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exhaslo · 5 months

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Puzzle Pieces Ch.4

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3

Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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It was quiet. Aside from the wind hitting your window, there was not a single sound echoing the halls. It seemed as if all of your neighbors had decided to go out shopping for the upcoming holiday. You on the other hand, were enjoying your day off. You were enjoying this rare, peaceful day.

You were snuggled in a large blanket on your couch as you worked on a puzzle. They were one of your favorite pass times and a good way to calm you down. Why did you need to calm down? Well, Miguel had asked you out for a lunch date today.

"I need to get dressed." You whispered for the tenth time.

Glancing at the clock, you tried to take deep breathes again. Putting another puzzle piece in place, you stopped to finally get dressed. You glanced down at the puzzle once more, feeling as if you were staring in a mirror.

You wondered, far too many times, what your life would have been like if you never dated Eddie. You felt like you lost a lot of yourself during that time. Picking up those pieces was hard and you weren't sure where to start. Especially now.

Gripping your sleeves, you hung your shoulders as you tried to hide the state of yourself. It was hard for you to acknowledge your beauty. Every time Miguel complimented you, you didn't have words for him. A thank you felt too obscure for you.

"Okay, you can do this," You whispered to yourself.

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Miguel was standing in front of your shammy building. He scrunched his nose up at the smell, the noise and worst of all, the filth of this place. How could someone as pure and innocent as you live in such a dirty, tainted place.

Not like he has any right.

Checking his phone, Miguel wanted to make sure that you were not skipping out on him. Not like you could. Hearing the loud creek of your main apartment building door, Miguel glanced up. There you were, all covered up as usual.

"S-Sorry, I-I hope...you weren't waiting too...too long." You stuttered, approaching the stern man.

"No," Miguel said simply, glancing at your clothing.

He kept a dull gaze as you entered his car. Your clothes were not up to par with his standards. They were old, raggy and seemed like they would tear easily. Sitting beside you, Miguel paid attention to your behavior. You kept tugging and nitpicking your sleeves.

"You don't need to be nervous," Miguel told you, watching you flinch, "I won't bite."

"S-Sorry, this...this is my first, um, date since..." You paused, recalling your horrible ex. Miguel swore he saw your eyes water,

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want too."

"I-It's fine!" You gasped, hiding your face with your sleeve again, "I was, um...in a bad relationship before...S-So...S-Sorry for being nervous..." You whispered.

Miguel had an idea. He had Lyla dig up as much research on you as she could. He wanted to know who you were and what you did for a living. To his surprise, there wasn't much on you after you dropped out of college. It made him curious about what happened to you during your past relationship.

After all, Miguel didn't like it when his belongings were broken. If you were going to be his, then he wanted to make sure you were okay with him. Miguel wanted to make sure nothing harms you.

"Why don't we lighten the mood. Tell me about yourself."

You glanced at Miguel, caught off guard by the suggestion. With a smile, you gladly started to talk to him. Hoping that you weren't rabbling too much. You wanted this to be a good relationship. You wanted Miguel to know what you liked and didn't like.

Miguel kept eye contact with you as you spoke. He let you rabble on and on, enjoying the sound of your sweet voice. He almost cracked a smile as you started to get excited, talking about little things. Shit that Miguel would never even think about had you gushing in a frenzy.

This was new.

Miguel liked this.

It felt like he could listen to you for hours. Watching you get out of breathe, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he offered you a water from a hidden mini fridge. Your face lit up as you looked at the hidden fridge. You were adorable. Miguel almost felt bad for thinking about last night as he pumped his dick in his hand.

"T-Thank you," You cooed, refreshing yourself, "Um...Sorry if I...talked too much...W-What about you?" You asked.

Miguel decided to play a game, "Hm, tell me, what do you think you know about me?" He asked.

Let's see if you answered like all of the other sluts who tried to bed him. Miguel wanted to see if you were secretly a gold digger, just to have a reason to stop having these feelings for you. It felt wrong, but Miguel wanted to stop this before it got out of hand. All he wanted was to fuck you, but instantly he knew that this was not going to be the case.

"Um, w-well, y-you're uh, handsome," You stuttered, cheeks growing redder as you spoke, "Y-You're voice is low...yet...kind. B-But, you go into the scary freezer at w-work...s-so you do something bad, I think. I-I don't want to think that...um, y-you have a nice car...and um, nice suits."

"Dios Mio. Este conejito va a ser mi muerte. (My god. This little bunny is going to be the death of me.)" Miguel whispered.

"Y-You speak Spanish." You said with a shy smile.

Miguel let out a rare laugh. It spooked even his driver. Unable to stop his little fit, Miguel turned towards you and stroked your cheek. Your eyes widen as if you were memorized by him. Miguel inhaled to the sight of your sparkling orbs.

"That was not what I was expecting." He hummed, his thumb rubbing circles around your cheek, "Do you know how innocent you are? Makes me want to gobble you up."

"Eep," You squeaked, growing even more flustered.

Miguel's smirk widen, enjoying your reaction. Noticing that they have arrived, Miguel helped you out of the car. You were covering your face from embarrassment and noticed that you were in front of a clothing store. You turned to Miguel, looking around,

"U-Um...Is...Is this one of those...fancy places where the r-restaurant is hidden behind a clothing rack...or something?"

"Señor, dame fuerzas para no follarla en el auto aquí y ahora. (Lord, give me strength to not fuck her in the car right here and now.)" He groaned. You titled your head,

"Um," Immediately recalling when Eddie would snap at you for stupid remarks, you winced and lowered your head, "S-Sorry...It was...It was a dumb thing t-to s-say." You stuttered.

Miguel's ears perked up as your stuttering got worse. He glanced at you, seeing you tremble as you avoided eye contact. This made him grind his teeth. He lifted your chin, watching tears threaten to spill. Whoever this ex of yours was, Miguel was going to kill him.

"Nothing you say is stupid. I wanted to treat you to some new clothes before we go to lunch."

"Y-You d-don't have too!"

"But I want too."

Miguel grabbed your hand and led you inside the building. The workers all immediately bowed and started to get to work. Miguel had to raise his hand and direct their attention to you. The male workers immediately moved away, while the women took you under their care.

"Give her something nice, long sleeved." Miguel said simply before taking a seat in their VIP section.

"M-Miguel?"

"It's okay. Pick whatever you want, they won't say anything."

You rolled your lips inward and shyly nodded. It would be rude to deny his offer, you were just worried about what the cost will be later. Such things never came for free.

Feeling dizzy as the workers showed you a bunch of outfits, you took a few of them and went into the fitting rooms. A worker tried to offer to help, but you grew scared. She saw this and left you alone. Once inside the fitting room, you slowly started to undress.

There, in the mirror, you saw the sight you didn't want anyone else to see. You had bruises that never healed, cuts across your arms and some cigarette burn marks. Every time you looked in the mirror, you cried. It felt like these were missing pieces that could never be found like a puzzle.

"Miss (Y/N), are you alright?" A worker asked.

"O-Oh, y-yes, s-sorry." You whimpered.

Finishing up, you hurried out to show the workers. They all clapped and agreed that the new attire suited you. Deciding on it, you went to change, but Miguel appeared and told you to keep it on. The workers placed your old clothes in a bag and Miguel swiftly paid.

"M-Miguel-" Oh, how his name rolled off your tongue so nicely, "A-Are you sure this...this is okay?"

"Of course," Miguel returned you to the car, "Now for that lunch I promised."

You sat beside Miguel, playing with your sleeves. You glanced up at him, seeing a smile on his face. You glanced away for a second, before continuing your prior conversation,

"S-So...Do you think...You can tell me...about yourself?" You asked.

Miguel arched a brow, before giving in. What harm would it be for his little bunny to know some things about him. Miguel started off simple, his likes, his dislikes and his home. He watched you, surprised by how intent you were on listening to him. Normally, the other girls would be bored by now.

"I'm the CEO of Alchemax," He continued, knowing that this was what the girls wanted.

"Alchemax?" You questioned, thinking, "Hm, w-wait, t-the Alchemax?! Like, CEO...B-Big Boss?"

"Haha, yes." Miguel adored your reaction.

"That explains the hidden fridge in the car,"

Unable to contain his laughter again, Miguel burst out. You were truly something else. Miguel was going to enjoy having you for himself. Oh, he could see it now. His precious little girlfriend, all nuzzled up to his side. His innocent little bunny who knew so little of who he truly was.

Explaining a bit more to you, Miguel felt his desire grow larger. This hunting game was turning into something more. Miguel hummed as he helped you out of the car once more and into the restaurant. His grip around your waist was firm, wanting to make sure that everyone knew who his next trophy was.

"Don't be nervous," He whispered in your ear as you entered the restaurant.

You followed Miguel to a fairly size table on the top floor in the balcony. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you tried to think of the cost of everything. Miguel must have sensed your worry since he reminded you to take deep breathes.

Once seated, you glanced at the menu and nearly froze at the prices. Yes, Miguel just confessed that he was a CEO, but this was too much for a first date. You were almost scared to order anything.

"Hm? Don't go looking for the cheapest item," Miguel said with a casual smile, "Order whatever you want."

"B-But...It's so...pricey. I-I can just have a water." You whimpered. Miguel went to grab you hand, placing his lips against it,

"I took you out of your comfort zone, so I'm treating you. I can just pick something if you don't know what to get?" He offered.

Miguel had to bite the inside of his cheek as he saw the pleading look in your eyes. So submissive. Miguel wondered if you would look at him like that in bed too.

Clearing his throat, he waved towards the waiter and ordered for the both of you. Miguel tried to ease you up, but asking how you liked the city and your job. He didn't want his little bunny to get too frighten and run away.

"I-I'm sure you've seen...h-how nervous I can get...S-So work is a little...stressful, b-but I manage!"

"You've gotten thinner though,"

"Ah-" You tensed, lowering your head, "S-Sometimes...I don't have the um, energy to eat. O-Or I don't eat much."

Miguel furrowed his brows. This was sounding a little familiar. Almost like what one of his close men, Peter, went through after his girlfriend broke up with him. Already knowing how this goes, Miguel started to text Lyla.

He let you rabble, wanting to get your mind off your nerves. That, and Miguel felt at ease listening to you. Once the food arrived, Miguel kept watching you. It was a bad habit of his. He was so used to the fake women who tried to get with him, that he just wanted to find a flaw. But how could he?

You were enjoying every bite. Your smile growing wider as you held your cheeks in awe. You were so thankful for whatever you ate. Miguel slowly drank his whiskey, just enjoying this. For the first time in a long time, he was actually enjoying himself.

"Mhm~ Thank you, Miguel~" You cooed happily as you finished your meal. Miguel finished his as well,

"Of course,"

The two of you ended up chatting for a while longer at the restaurant. Hearing his phone go off, Miguel grunted as he saw a meeting notification. This wasn't an Alchemax meeting either. Miguel had some more business with Vulture and even Ock's gangs.

Apologizing to you, Miguel took your hand and brought you to the car. He wanted to drive you home first before dealing with whatever blood bath he was going to have later.

"M-Miguel, I-I know you said not to worry...B-But...W-What, no, um, h-how would you-"

"Another date," Miguel knew where you were going with that sentence.

"S-Sure!" You chirped happily and thought, "I-Is it okay...If maybe, I pick the place...next time?"

Miguel was surprised by your suggestion. He did have to be careful due to his underworld status, but hell. Agreeing to your terms, Miguel smiled as you started to cheer excitedly in your seat. Your smile was addicting.

Once you arrived back home, you were escorted to your apartment by Miguel again. You stood at your door frame, playing with your fingers. Miguel went to kiss your hand once more, thanking you for the evening. You squeaked lowly,

"N-No, t-thank you!" You chirped and started to rub your arms, hesitantly, "C-Can...C-Can I...I-I text you later?"

Miguel questioned your stuttering and movements. Why were you so nervous now?

"I'll be waiting-" Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed his cheek.

"T-T-Thank you!!!" You squeaked before hurrying inside.

Miguel just exhaled as he stared at your door. His fingers trailed his cheek where you kissed, smirking. You were going to be such a beautiful trophy wife for him.

"Until next time, my little bunny."

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Next chapter

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bruh-anator3000 · 9 months

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Special shout out to bae @thehistoriangirl for getting the kettle ready, we got a long story ahead of us. I actually wrote out an entire story but then realized most people dont want that, so let me break it down to the best of my ability. I hope you enjoy, and thank you to the 5 people who showed interest, I love you, like for real.

Warnings: severely unedited, Drug/substance abuse, inhumane product testing, death, probably bad writing at diseases (im working on it), child abuse/neglectance, daddy issues, crime, that should be all

Anisa Hardy was born with albinism and an autoimmune disease

Her premature birth gave both her and her mother serious issues, one that her father, a renowned surgeon and geneticist tried to undo

He tested his genetic reversal on Anisa when she was 7, trying to find the perfect formula to save his wife

He had a prophetic dream that he should splice their dna with the creature told to have 9 lives, so that if his wife did die, she could be reincarnated again

The splicing worked on Anisa but her mother died during the genetic sewing

Walter Hardy blames Anisa for lying to him that it worked

Her older sister ran away from home when Anisa was 16, leaving her the advice 'trust no one but yourself.'

Anisa stayed in school for the one reason of being better than her father

As her father went insane from losing his true love, he created a drug ring, and sold his company as he grew to become Nueva York's largest crime lord, under the alias of 'The Black Mask.'

Given her increased stealth, agility and strength thanks to the spliced cat dna, Anisa was forced to work as his number 1 robber, stealing things for him under the name of 'the Child of the Mask' (father's idea, not hers)

Got noticed by Alchemax as she entered college - the company Walter *used* to own

Met Miguel O'Hara when she interned with the lab cooperation

The typical trope of they couldn't express their care in any other way besides picking on each other

Anisa would bring Miguel his exact coffee order every morning though

He caught onto the fact she never had any real food to eat, and when he asked, she just snarked 'unless you bring me somethin else, I'll stick to my chips."

So he brought her homemade empanadas the next day

He was rewarded with one of the less noticeable stolen jewels her father made her take. Leaving it on O'Hara's desk without a word. This back and forth continued for a while

While in the labs, Anisa created a drug called 'Nine Lives.' A purple substance so strong, it could bring her back to life. It could only be used 9 times since it would slowly take over the blood stream 10% each dose.

However, Anisa made 10. Knowing full well her body would rupture if she ever took this drug ten times. She planned on it, in case one her last leg, she wouldn't be able to survive again

Miguel never really noticed, too caught up in his own research to care

The two never got to address their growing romantic feelings even after 2 years

And when Anisa thought she was ready to commit to the asshole of a coworker and finally ask him on a proper date, her father had the crazy idea that a spider's dna could bring his love back to life.

She was instructed to get Miguel alone and locked in the labs so that his men could take him out for testing. Because clearly, a healthy and strong young man's reaction to this would definitely be the same as a dead woman's

Anisa was inches away from the door when she broke down, running over to Miguel and begging him to leave. To trust her, and to walk out the lab doors and never come back

Obviously, he thought it was some stupid prank, an attempt to get him out so she could copy his work

That was until the glass behind them broke and a posion dart shot Anisa in the back of the neck, having her fall near dead asleep in Miguel's hold

Smoke filled the room, and as he tried to haul himself and Anisa out, three more darts landed on his back, knocking them both out clean

Anisa gained her vision, unable to move anything else as she helplessly watched her father's men drag Miguel away

She never returned to the labs

The next few nights, she paced, trying to figure out a way to get Miguel out of this mess

Thats when she adapted the 'Black Cat.'

She made her own suit, far different from the crappy skin tight shit her father threw at her, a mask that was inspired by Miguel's nanotechnology he tampered with, and broke into her father's labs

She found Miguel motionless, still dead asleep as a computer read how close his dna was to completing it's splicing

She ripped all her father's work apart, finally getting the revenge she's wanted for years and dragged Miguel's limp body out of the building

It was tough but she managed to get them back into the labs, where she set to work on making a neutralizer, similar to the one she had to take to contain the more... feral parts of her split blood

She created it, basing it off of her own but with spider calming elements instead and wrote it down for him. She injected him with it, watched as he sat up screaming, and disappeared, unable to face him

Guilt heavy as she wondered day and night; maybe if she tried harder, Miguel wouldn't have to live like her. Maybe if she was better, she could've saved him... and her mother

News of the black cat caught on, especially since she would steal for her father under his given alias, then take it all back a week or so later under her more fitting identity

She never talked to Miguel again, ignoring his calls, too ashamed with herself to even think of him

It wasn't until she was robbing one of the more secure banks of the city (technically un-robbing it by putting jewels *back*) that she met another vigilante, Spider-Man 2099

A ridiculous name, she taunted, her mask giving her words more confidence.

As they fought, and he told a smidge of his story, she caught on quick

She knew he was Miguel from the very beginning

I mean, who else has spider dna?

Suddenly, she didn't know what to do and nearly got herself kicked off a building and into the road

As time went on, Black cat was the only mask Anisa wore, stealing the artifacts or secret chemicals from their establishments before her father could get to them

All Walter knew was that his horrible daughter finally went missing - unaware his own creation beat him at his game nearly every heist

Spider-Man was the real issue. Choosing to fight Anisa instead of listening to her side

It was the labs all over again. Arguing without even caring who was actually right, just caring that it meant the spent more time together

Miguel would catch Black Cat just 'strolling' along rooftops where he was patrolling

He found himself sitting with his nemesis, splitting street food as they watched the city bustle beneath them

He didn't find out about her identity until he almost got her killed

Use one of nine for her concoction of 'Nine Lives.'

Miguel had found Black Mask's house of operation, and ignored the pleading of Black Cat

He refused to give up on this mission, needing to ensure Black Mask couldn't harm the world again

A failed fight later, the only way to stop Miguel from being shot dead was Anisa ripping off her mask to calm her father

But being seperated from him for so long, she forgot the rage that would boil over him everytime he saw his daughter's face - too similar to her mother, too similar to the wife she killed

He shot her 5 times in the chest without blinking, walking away as Miguel crawled over

He truly thought he lost another one to Black Mask. First, his uncle, the only one in his family who cared about him - and now the girl he ever considered close. Dare he say, a friend - maybe more.

On the brink of death, Anisa brought his hand down to her belt, revealing a purple vial with two needles at the end. Like fangs, with a shot mechanism

Rolling her head to the side, a silent invitation to inject her with this vial, right into her major pulse point

Miguel almost didn't do it. Terrified it would make things worse, but he had to take a chance

And after watching her bullet wounds heal over with fake purple skin, Anisa shot up, gasping

They grew closer then, after Miguel snappes at her for her criminal activities, and almost dying

The Black Cat and Spider-Man, working together?! Was on every headline for a few months

Then, Miguel disappeared

Completely gone, like he had fallen off the face of the earth, and Anisa couldn't do anything

She tried every resource, every gang, every possible thing, unwilling to loose someone like that again

But she couldn't find anything. Miguel was gone

It wasn't until three months later when one of her sources notified her of his pressence back in Nueva York

She immediately ran to a museum, stealing the largest Tomb there and waited anxiously for Miguel to come after her

He did, and she nearly tackled him with excitement

She quipped on and on, teasing him for leaving, but Miguel didn't respond to a single taunt, not even a grunt

When she lowered her guard, and her mask to sincerely ask what happened, a red web caught on her midsection

Slamming her face first into the concrete of the roof, breaking her nose immediately

He grabbed her chin, unfazed by the blood streaming down her face and yelled

But he didn't exactly yell, his voice just so angry, it was cold against her ear as he told her that hes seen things she could never comprehend

That there were worlds, far greater and far less than theirs, that they meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, that Anisa meant nothing. She never did.

And that if she kept trying to steal and be a criminal, he would no longer be the one to save her from her doom. That he wasn't going to spend his life chasing a lowlife like her. That shes already wasted so much of his time, that nothing she did mattered. It never did

And then, he left

Miguel left Anisa on the roof with a broken nose, the words of her sister ringing like a bell in her head

'Trust no one but yourself.'

For a while, Anisa let it be. Angrier than ever, upset that she let herself get hurt again, she went to work with her father again

Receiving tasks under a fake identity - Walter Hardy still believed he finally killed his daughter

But she grew bored, her anger needing closure or else she was going to bash everyone's head in Nueva York against the very asphalt they walked on

Like any normal not really ex - she stalked Miguel

It was hard finding a lead at first, but what she found was astonishing. Miguel had created an entire society

A society of spider people, from apl different dimensions

Naturally, she mapped out the entire building and filled all the air systems with a sleeping gas that knocked all the spiders out, expect for Miguel

His vents filled with paralyzing smoke, leaving him unable to move, but to witness the woman he never thought to see again walk through his complex building like she owned the place

Barging into his lair, she pressed on his wrist until a red web shot out

Grabbing it, she wrapped Miguel in his own webbing, and threw him into his chair before pressing a knife to his neck

"Anisa," he gulped out, "good to see you,"

"Ohhhhh," Anisa's head whipped around. Finding other spider with a five o'clock shadow slumped over. "You know her? Veryyyy cool." Peter B chuckled, slobbering running down his face as the paralysis kept his muscles still

They eventually work it out after he has Lyla do her explainy fhingy while hes limp and tied to a chair (lyla took photos) and Anisa would eventually get over it and understand

She would later go on to finally stop her father with the help of Miguel

Later, she would take over as Nueva York's largest crime lord - pissing Miguel off until he realized that crime actually went down since her rein began

She only took over because she knew if she didn't, someone worse would, and she uses her status as a way to demand criminals to get therapy and better jobs

She would also be granted max security for the spider society, and be allowed in whenever she wanted - always to meet up with Miguel, sometimes to help him, other times to just lay around and be a silent menace

Okay! Now with her story out of the way, i get to share the smaller details!

Anisa was born a second generation immigrant on her mother's side, from what was once known as Iran

Due to her albinism, she has silver hair and purple eyes, and she's smaller than a lot of people from being born prematurely

After the dna spilce, she gained some melanin back, and was given the opportunity to be a more average height/weight from it

She had to curate her own stabilizing serum since her father gave up on it, working closely with one of his scientists who helped her understand what was going on

The cat dna improved flexibility, agility, endurance, stealth, speed, heightened senses, and oddly, her chances of luck

Has claws and fangs very similar to Miguel, on both her fingers and toes. Her pupils also gained the ability to shrink and expand like a cat's, giving her an odd slit pupil look regularly

Bc of that, and her albinism, she's very very sensitive to light, often wearing some sort of eye wear to keep her safe

Her hair grew thicker too, excessive hair growth that was darker than her normal silver. It's odd trying to explain why near her temples/roots, its darker than the rest of her hair - explaining your mad scientist father spliced your genetic code with a black cat isn't easy

Makes biscuits whens shes deep in thought, and her claws get stuck on fabric and she cant pull away unless she grabs her wrist to manually detach her claws

Her tongue is textured too, and she came to that realization after licking ice cream and it left a really concerning pattern

She has to be very careful with what she wears, anything could tick her off with her hypersensitivity

I actually can't decide if I want her to grow ears and a tail yet so its in my mind as concept design still lmao

Really close to her sister, Emelia, and Anisa listens to her voicemail of her whenever she gets sad

Grew up used to people bullying her for her different appearance, so even if she wanted friends, no one dared be near her

Ironically enough, she's actually deadly allergic to seafood, so though her feline insticts go off when she smells fish, she cannot risk eating it

Her father signed her up for any extra curricular she wanted, Martial arts, sword fighting, gymnastics, anything to keep her away from him

Got in a lot of trouble with the law as a juvenile, an act of rebellion towards her father

Ordinarily, Alchemax wouldn't have hired the daughter of the insane scientist, but Anisa forged documents and changed her last name to her mother's

People tell her that she does have a very similar appearance to her father, and it makes her go crazy, wanting to rip out every part of her

Her skin is very sensitive, even more so bc of the heightened senses, so it scars really easily - it doesn't help she's picked up picking at scabs as a habit

Was lowkey in love at first sight with Miguel until he finally opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong with her formulas

They were apart of a group of roughly 10 other interns, but the rest requested a transfer not long after Anisa and Miguel started fighting over everything

The one thing that kept Anisa's interest piqued was that whenever someone made a diss about her appearance, calling her unnatural or a genetic mistake, Miguel would get on them in an instant

He backed another intern named Mark into the cart of petri dishes, breaking them all - Anisa would've started a fight on it if Miguel hadn't used it to his advantage to get the guy fired

Miguel was also quick to notice the bruises she'd come in with (being your father's main robber, only to then rob him to unrob the banks wasn't easy)

He only knew how to argue with her but he didn't want to make her feel bad about the scars or bruises, so that's when he brought up nutrition

And he didn't hesitate to make her lunch from then on. He didn't even explain why or let Anisa question him. He would simply silently hand her a paper bag as she handed him his morning coffee

After the whole testing incident and stuff, he planned on coming back to work and to ask Anisa what she knew about it, but was devastated to find her gone

As Spider-Man, after their maybe 6th run in, Anisa stopped what she was doing to teach him how to control his claws and fangs, tired of being smacked with a handful of talons

It was awkward as she would dig her fingers into his hands and above his lip, helping him feel the motion of retracting them, but it worked

She also tried to teach him about the sixth sense, the spidery sense bc she had a cat sense

Only to find out that she could lob foam blades at him all day and he wouldn't be able to sense it

Literally could not stop laughing as she made him stand there, eyes closed, and threw fake weapons at him, and he couldn't sense where they were, grumbling

Anisa progressively got more flirty as time went on, her hidden identity making her way bolder than normal - even though she's never actually done the deed

(She didn't trust anyone enough to, especially not with how incredibly sensitive she was. Claws come out when unchecked, just saying)

While on patrol, he found Black Cat just sitting and joined her, unknowingly starting a habit of them both grabbing street junk food and watching the city together

During these times, she would joke how she knew his identity, but never had the courage to actually say it, so she would compare him to old movie stars just to see him get offended

He found out Anisa was Black Cat - or at least really started to suspect it when she responded the same to his question of eating better - "unless you make me," in the same almost forgotten tone

Their relationship did progress into a grey area of romance, both of them knowing they couldn't reveal their identities so being together outside of their little game of cat and mouse

She never did more than aggressively makeout with Miguel on the rooftops, refusing to. Miguel understood but he was always perplexed how someone could flirt so heavily then not be hot and bothered like him

Anisa is obviously very smart, and was able to copy Miguel's digital watch, the hologram aspect of it at least

Also copied his nanotech designs, obviously, and would often try messing with his to understand how it all worked

Was shocked to find out it wasn't nanotech, but a bunch of unstable atoms to create a hologram

1000% stops mid battle to follow stray cats, often making Miguel come with

Does the cat kicking litter move on him when hes late to their chase, often mocking him by asking how he was gonna let pigs beat a spider

After her whole shot in the chest and died thingy, Miguel asked about her 'Nine Lives' substance and she walked him through the process of making it and how it reacts to her blood only while laying in a web hammock he made

She explained that because she was the only one in charge of keeping her genetics human - besides the one other scientist - she was constantly trying to improve her serum, which led to the creation of Nine Lives

Teased her once with a fish cake, and nearly had a heart attack when she gurgled out how deadly allergic she was to it before trying ti claw it out of his grasp

He threw it in a randomw alley and had to web her to a wall to get her to stop trying to eat it

Once he caught on to the way Anisa's eyes slitted in focus whenever his webbing would first shoot out, he would use the string to mess with her until she gave into the feline urge to chase it

Same with lasers, its very embarrassing for her but Miguel loves it

His 3 month disappearance was when he switched places with his alter self, going to take care of Gabriela before her world collapsed

Which is why he was super angry when he came back, furious Anisa could be making jokes at a time like this (she didn't know what time it was, just that her super hot not really boyfriend came back)

Given her abilities to copycat most structures or devices, Anisa spent an entire month mapping out the spider society, just so she could send them all to sleep

And it worked, spider senses or not, no one could escape the sleeping smoke when it came from every vent

Peter B was very thrilled to find out Anisa was Miguel's Black Cat, unbothered by the fact he was in the lime of fire, falling to the same paralysis Miguel did

Lyla absolutely ate that shit up, barely keeping herself together as Anisa wheeled Miguel around in his chair so he could explain things better

When she finally forgave him, he took her on a tour of the society

Something awoke in Anisa everytime Miguel would get slightly harsh in tone, telling any spider that approached them that she was *his* Black Cat

Made her feel very special

When she became crime lord, Miguel didn't talk to her for weeks, feeling betrayed without even listening to why

Then he noticed he wasn't called on his Earth for missions anymore, able to focus on the multiverse a lot better

Thanks to Anisa

Who spent all her time handling actual villains for him, and helped the ones who felt they had no other option get stable jobs

I.E kicked the shit out of Green Goblin (Miguel's brother, whoops) and helped his minions find secure jobs that would financially keep them stable

The spider people love her for her ability to calm Miguel down (they have a separate training room that they use to tear into each other after 24 hours of no stabilizing serum)

She gets really heartbroken when she hears the other canon Black Cat events, and takes her time to notice them so she can discreetly derail them from happening, a silent attempt of keeping Miguel in her life

And that's all, so far! I'm sure theres plenty I forgot, I really tried to cut as much as I could so it wouldn't be a long read but... I'm a writer at heart, I couldn't help it. Please, please, please ask questions! I would love to tell more about her! Thank you to those who read it all, I hope your leftovers are heated evenly and your pillow is cold on both sides <3

#Anisa Hardy #black cat oc #black cat #Miguel o'hara #miguel x oc #spidersona #bruh oc #bruh writes #spiderverse oc #spiderverse

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Surprise

Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader

Summary: Miguel gives his wife a day of surprise. Based on this video and tweet.

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Sorry if the smut sucks, I rushed through it lol.

Miguel leaned against the entryway of the bathroom, watching you carefully apply your mascara. His eyes roamed down to the swell of your breasts. You hadn’t put on your blouse yet because of you not wanting to get makeup on it.

“You’re staring,” you called out your husband when you finally became aware of his heated gaze. “What? Is it a crime to look at my wife?”

“Noooo, but it is a bad idea when both you and I have work to go to.” You took a break from doing your makeup and that’s when you realized that Miguel wasn’t dressed in his usual garb. He had on a simple black tee and jeans, an understated look but he still oozed power. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

Miguel ignored your question and leaned his hip against the counter. “Let’s go shopping, mi amor.”

“Shopping? We can’t go shopping. We both have to work.” What the hell was Miguel thinking? You two did not have the time for that. “What if I told you I cancelled all my meetings today and told your boss you couldn’t come in today?”

That sounded too good to be true. “You’re lying,” you accused in disbelief. “Nope, we’re gonna go to Home Goods. Then we’re gonna go to Target. Sounds good so far?” The mention of Target made you stop what you’re doing and turn to your husband.

“Then we’re gonna get pedicures after.”

“What?” You gasped in shock. It’s been forever since you and Miguel got pedicures together. “Yeah, let’s go get pedicures. Yeah?” After that you closed your mascara, Miguel had your full attention now. “Oh! Mascara shut.” Miguel joked. “And then we’ll go to brunch. You want brunch?”

“Mimosas?” You whispered, already dreaming of the citrusy bubbles on your tongue. “Mmhmm. Order from the whole menu. Chocolate chip pancakes with a river of syrup. Bacon, hash browns.”

“Chicken tendies?” Miguel laughed at your name for chicken strips, you refused to call them by their proper name. “Yes, and chicken tendies.” As Miguel continued to name various foods, your breath got heavier in anticipation.

“And then?” You asked. “Whatever you want to do. Wanna go to Chick-Fil-A? Cookies and cream milkshake?”

“COOKIES AND CREAM MILKSHAKE!?”

“Yeah!” Miguel couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He loved how excited you were and that he was the one making it happen. “So, you wanna go?” It really wasn’t a question, but he just knew your answer would radiate with enthusiasm. “For real? Miguel, you’re not playing?”

Miguel grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. “No, I’m not.” You squealed and jumped in his arms before running to change. “But there is one condition.” He stopped you in your tracks. “What?”

“You have to wear this.” Miguel pulled out a maxi sundress of your favorite color. This man certainly had style. Running you snatched the dress out his hands and began changing. You were too enamored with the dress that you barely heard Miguel tell you to meet him in the driveway when you were done.

As soon as he saw you, Miguel thought a day in the house didn’t sound bad at all, but he had to shove those thoughts away. He had plans for his queen.

“Where’s Nestor?” You looked around for him, Marcus, and some of the others, but none were to be found. “Gave them the day off. It’ll just be you and me.”

It wasn’t Christmas. Both of yours and Miguel’s birthdays had already passed. Your anniversary wasn’t until a couple of more months. “What are you up to?” You eyed Miguel suspiciously. “Nothing. Now get in the car.”

Multiple times during the car ride Miguel thought of pulling over. In the corner of his eye, he would catch you rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some pressure. He listened to how you thought it was so sexy to see a man maneuver a car, but he didn’t think you would get this turned on. Now he would have to make more of an effort to drive around.

His day with you was a blast. At Home Goods he watched your head switch from Pinterest to the different aisles, trying to find the perfect items to complete your diy projects. Target was a bit more dangerous. You went down every aisle and almost bought out the whole store. “We don’t even need this!” Miguel would say whenever you would add whatever unnecessary item to the cart. It didn’t matter though, he still let you get it.

The nail salon was a ball. The nail technicians thought it was so cute that you and Miguel were getting pedicures together. Along with the pedicure you got a manicure. Miguel even picked the shape and color. “I can’t wait to see those wrapped around my dick,” he whispered, enjoying you squirm as the nail tech painted your nails.

Brunch a whole new you came out. This specific restaurant was your favorite because they played the music you loved and had bottomless mimosas. Those two were a bad combination for Miguel’s hard dick, because those lustful glances from you were no accident. And the moans you made when you ate those damn chicken tendies mixed with a little bit of syrup had him sitting uncomfortably for the longest. But then every so often, in between bites you would look to Miguel, smile brightly, and tell him thank you. And just like that he was gushing all over you, ready to give you the moon and the stars.

Miguel opted to get the milkshakes at the drive-thru, but you didn’t mind, you had other plans in mind. However, Miguel surprised you when he went in the other direction of home. “Babe, where are we going?” Miguel grabbed your hand and rested his lips on it. “To your last surprise.” He said, not offering any more information.

About 45 minutes outside of town, an oddly familiar lake house came into view. “Miguel, what is this?” Your husband parked the car and ran to let you out. “This is your house by the lake, not too far from the city because you’ be damned if some Jason Vorhees comes out to kill you and you couldn’t get immediate help. There’s the front porch where you can sit and drink your morning coffee while you watch the sunrise. In the back, you have the deck complete with picnic tables and a master grill, where you can use and abuse your brother’s grilling skills while everyone else is talking, playing games, and dancing. Back here you can have your glass of wine and watch the sunset.” He wrapped his arms around you and jutted his chin to the second story of the home. “In the master bedroom is a window seat where you can get scared from the new horror book you’re reading while drinking your second cup of coffee. And most importantly there’s the dock by the lake, so you can go fishing because you refuse to get on a boat and become a Lake Placid victim.”

Verbatim. Word for word, Miguel described the perfect dream lake house you told him about years ago. It was dream that your dad had at first. He wanted to give his family a getaway spot that was yours to call your own. As your father daughter bonding time, you would search for the perfect candidate but could never find one. Then unfortunately, he passed before he could make that dream come true. In the little spare time you had, you resumed your search in honor of your father, but it was nothing but dead ends.

Tears were running down your face. You couldn’t stop them if you wanted to. “Mi amor, you don’t like it?” Miguel’s concern was growing. He couldn’t decipher if those were happy tears or sad tears. “No, Miguel I love it! I just don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Miguel pulled you into a tighter hug. “Oh honey, I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to get and keep you.” He grabbed ahold of your chin, tilting it up so you couldn’t avoid his eyes. “I haven’t been the best husband.”

“Miguel no.” How in the world could he think that? He pressed a finger against your lips. “Shh, let me finish. You barely see me anymore. We literally only say good morning and good night to each other. I’ve been too busy with the rebels and Potter. Plus, there’s the original work I already have. You taken over the development project when you have your own work to do. And you take time out of your day to take my mother to and from her appointments.” You tried to interrupt him, to tell him that it was no big deal, but he stopped you. “Ahh, I’m not finished. You do all this, go through all this trouble and not once have I heard you complain. This isn’t even half of what you deserve. So, no more talk about how you don’t deserve any of this. Entiendes?”

It was a troubling time. Half of the time you didn’t know where you found the energy to get out of bed, but you did. You had to. This was how you keep your family together. “Si.” You brought Miguel’s face closer to yours. There was the faint taste of mimosas still on his tongue. Reluctantly, Miguel pulled away, holding onto your bottom lip til the last possible second. “There are other husbandly duties that I have been neglecting.”

“Is there now?” A crooked smile graced your face. “Mmhmm,” Miguel scooped you up bridal style. “Yeah. I think we should christen the house.” He whispered conspiratorially like you weren’t alone. “I say hell yeah!”

Miguel ran into the house, running up the stairs, leaving a trail of your giggles. Tomorrow you would get the chance to explore more.

Once in the room, Miguel dropped you on the bed, causing you to bounce a little. He shed yours and his clothes in a hurry. To his surprise you weren’t any underwear. “Someone was eager, huh?”

“I had plans to screw you in the back of the car after mimosas.” Miguel took off your bra and tugged a nipple into his mouth. “Good girl.”

While Miguel’s attention was on your nipples yours were on getting his boxers off. His dick sprang free and you wrapped your hand around it. Miguel relished in the feeling of your soft hand around him while he left kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “What are you doing?” He groaned into your ear, slipping in between the two of you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movement. “I thought you wanted to see my nails around your dick?” You whimpered, squirming against him.

“I do, but right now is about you. Do me a favor and suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” He tapped your fingers against your lips, and you slipped them in, mimicking the motions you wanted to desperately do to his dick. Satisfied with how wet they were, Miguel stuck his fingers in your welcoming hole. “Its so wet and warm, preciosa. I think I can fit another finger in there, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm, daddy.” Miguel added a third finger, bringing a delicious sting. “God, you’re so tight. I bet you taste even better.” Taking his fingers out despite your reluctance, he sucked on them, making you jealous that it wasn’t your mouth on them.

“Tell me what you want, baby. You want me eat that fat ass pussy or you want this cock?”

“Gimme your cock please.” It was no competition. You needed to feel complete and only Miguel’s dick could do that.

He scooted back some to line himself up. You caught a glimpse of his dick and badly wanted to suck it. It should be a crime that all that dick belongs to you.

Miguel slid his cock along your slit, gathering up some wetness. “Baby stop teasing please!” You whined, scratching against his forearms.

He lifted up your left leg to his hip and slid in, giving you those deep lovemaking strokes. “You take me so well, mi amor. Can you handle more?”

“Yes Miguel. Please give me more!” His slow strokes would leave you right on the verge of coming, but never actually getting you there and at this moment you needed to cum more than anything. “More, daddy! Please!” Tears were prickling your eyes.

With his free hand, Miguel swiped away your tears and began to pound into you. “Pretty girl,” he smoothed back some of your hair, his soft words contrasting his rough fucking. “You look like an angel taking my cock so well. You’re gonna be a good girl and cum over daddy’s cock, hmm?”

You nodded your head when you failed to form any words. “Nah, baby girl I need words. Tell me what you want.”

“I WANT TO CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK!” Miguel was hitting your spot repeatedly. “Okay, pretty baby, then do it,” he whispered, rubbing your clit.

Your body exploded with your orgasm. You were a quivering mess, but Miguel wasn’t through with you, he kept fucking you.

“Where do you want it?” Miguel asked through clenched teeth. “In my mouth, daddy. I wanna taste you.”

Miguel jumped off of you. “On your knees, baby.” Eagerly you got on the ground with your tongue out, enjoying Miguel stroke his glistening cock. “Oh fuck!” He cried out, throwing his head back in ecstasy as his cum filled your mouth.

When he finished, you jumped at the opportunity to clean his cock. “Shitttt! Just like that baby.”

He pulled your head back and laughed at your amused smile. “With skills like that, I’ll give you anything. What else do you want?” He carried you to the bathroom, filling the tub for a nice bath.

“Just you.” You sighed, leaning back on his chest.

“I can definitely do that and more.” Miguel promised to you and himself.

If you like what you read here’s my taglist and masterlist.

Tags: @starrynite7114 @lilsmilez @blessedboo @marvelmaree @sambucky8 @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @richonne4life @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @thesandbeneathmytoes @woahitslucyylu @sadeyesgf @strawberrywritings @angelreyesgirl @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @spookys-girl @imanerdychubbyqueen @brownsugarcoffy @ifoundmyhappythought @thickemadame

#black!reader #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x black!reader #miguel galindo fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfic #mayans #mayans fanfic #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #danny pino

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emletish-fish · 3 years

Note

7. what is you favorite sentence/paragraph? read it to us! (asker can choose what fic) (x)

I chose three! One from each of my 'big fics'. No Zombies, Worst Prisoners and Good Boys under the cut:

NO ZOMBIES:

No Zombies was a delight to write. I had pretty much the whole idea from the get-go, (of a returned style AU with Hector coming to spend time with the family in the modern world). I finished it quick - and it's not too long (side-eyeing Good Boy and Worst Prisoner). It was the first fic where I felt like I really "stuck" the landing. I was quite flexible with my original outline, but I still knew where the journey ended. It ended exactly how I wanted it too - happily but with a bitter-sweet note.

The emotional core of this story is how Elena, family matriach, who is so gruff and no-nonsense, who despises Hector in the films, and who has such a warm heart under such a grumpy exterior would slowly soften and come to love Hector, (and how she grows as a person because of this and becomes more comfortable showing love/emotions to her family). It was like a platonic slow-burn as she learns to understand Hector better - which is why this bit is my favourite because it's where she starts to really feel fond of him for the first time:

“Well, I'm just glad I'm a better teacher for him than watching old Ernesto De La Cruz movies.” Héctor had replied with a wry smile. “It's probably because I'm so much more handsome than that butt-chinned, over-the-top ham.”

“Because you're a pointy-chinned, over-the-top ham?” Elena replied, feeling surprising witty. She never made teasing jokes like this normally, but it was so easy with Héctor.

He looked mock-offended. “I'll have you know, my chin is wonderful and I've given it to several of your grandchildren, so there.”

If Elena was a different person, she probably would have pulled Héctor into a warm, laughing hug then. She might have told him seriously that Miguel had always been difficult for her. He felt things so strongly and got so upset and emotional – she'd always struggled with how to help him, how to calm him. Miguel was so happy now. She knew that was because of Héctor.

She might have told Héctor that he was at least six thousand times the musician, eight thousand times the teacher, and ten thousand times the man that Ernesto De La Cruz was.

But Elena was who she was.

Instead she said “Idiot,” and ruffled his stupidly messy hair rather fondly.

She told herself she wasn't warming to the fool musician, but she knew it was a lie.

GOOD BOY:

My current work. It's another platonic slow-burn, but this time set in the Cobra Kai universe with son and father pair - Robby Keene and Johnny Lawrence. In the show, these two characters have such a dysfunctional relationship that is so full of miscommunications and missed chances, and they genuinely want a better relationship (and it would be so healing for both of them! Do not get me started!) I lean much more into the magical realism in this story, as I turned Robby into a dog (Animal transformation - PIXAR's Brave style), so that he could immediately get the cuddles and easy affection he so clearly needs.... because I have never seen a more touch/affection-starved character aside from Zuko in ATLA.

This also gave Robby a chance to really understand, not only his father, but the other people in his cicrcle. He discovered he had a support network. He got to know he was loved by many. he got to witness the actions people would take as they searched for human-him (not knowing that he'd been turned into a dog). And it gave Johnny a chance to learn how to take care of something, feel needed, and express his love for his son without the weight of their complicated history/his own trauma hanging over him. It was hard to pick a favourite, but I will say the Johnny-stream-of-conciousness chapters are definitely the easiest/most fun to write. One of my favourite bits is in the first one, The queen of ice-cream runaway when Johnny tells Robby about when Laura (his grandmother) found out Shannon was pregnant and she was going to be a grandmother.

It's the first inkling Robby gets that while his father wasn't there for him and he was neglected a lot, Johnny did his best to keep the bad shit from his own childhood away from Robby as his own way of showing care. It hints at the deep and damaging abuse Johnny endured. When he finally had a say with his own kid, he would have done anything to protect Robby from feeling the same. I'd say here is where Robby really begins to warm to his Dad;

Then I told her our chosen name and she said I was a dumbass and Swayze was a terrible middle name, and we had to change it to some shit like Alastair or something. She thought he should have a rich sounding middle name. And I say Mom, Alastair sounds like some lame-ass insurance broker who upskirts his secretary and then cries as he jerks off to the pictures, what else you got? She thought Sebastian, and that was worse! What a pussy name. Sebastian is going to be sitting in the little french patisserie cafe drinking the tiny-ass coffee for dolls and eating the éclair with his prissy finger tips. I already want to kick Sebastian's ass. Who wouldn’t? I’m not going to give my kid a name that is going to get his ass kicked.

And she couldn't talk, cause she named me after Johnny Cash, just cause she liked his music. And she couldn't think of a middle name at the time, so I didn't get one. Thank goodness. I could have ended up Johnny Alastair and had to kick my own ass.

So Swayze stayed.

Then she mentions how she and Sid can help out, so I didn't need to do the two jobs, stupidly long hours thing. And we need the money. I know we need the money. But my whole body froze and I just went No. None of that for little Robby Swayze. ...

... She’s going on about spending Sid’s money on Robby and I just...I can’t. I can't allow it. Cause I knew how he would be, and the way he would treat that kid. So I tell her, no thank you. Not a fucking cent mom. Sid’s not getting to feel like he owns a hair on Robby’s head. That motherfucker can go jump. You thought we needed Sid’s money when I was a kid. You decided it was better for me, and that was your choice. I did not get a vote in that. But this is my kid, and this time it is my call, and I am choosing no. I’m not going to have Sid make my kid feel like he has to apologise for existing every day. I'm not going to have Sid treat my kid the way he treated me. I will never need money that badly. I will never put my kid through that. I'll work myself to the bone doing 20 hour days before that. I'll work on the 40th floor without a harness before that. I will sell my fucking organs before it comes to that. Not a cent mom.

WORST PRISONER:

My 'what if Zuko made friends with the Gaang early on?" AU that then turned into a three-book long saga (and I will return to it, Worst Prisoner readers - Thank you for you patience). It does have evenutal Zutara, but the focus is really on the Gaang + Zuko as a whole, and all the interpersonal relationships. I'd say there is more gen-shipping around Zuko as a central character, as Iroh & Zuko, and Sokka & Zuko are both given equal prominence. in fact, all the friendships and familial relationships were equally important to me. (the book 3 Zuko & Azula stuff is so interesting, but it is ...less funny I guess.)

This fic is such a joy to write, and I really try and balance the humour with the bittersweet/sad parts, and one of the main sources of humor was the Sokka-Aang-Zuko -Katara qudrangle of dumbassery. I love the four of them together in book 1, and so many of their interactions were a hoot to write. But if I'd have to pick a favourite moment, it would be the moment in the deserter chapter in book 1, where they all decide to 'officially' be friends:

“Well, you can figure that out and find someone while I'm up in the Northern Water Tribe. Then when we finish up there, we'll come find you,” Aang offered.

“Really?” Zuko’s eyes were shining optimistically. It was a strange expression for him. Aang was so used to seeing him with a grumpy face.

“Really, I promise,” Aang said, feeling so glad that he could help Zuko go home.

“Yeah, I second that. If this means we won’t have to put up with you chasing us, I am in!” Sokka said. “Sheesh, you could have just asked ages ago!”

“You know, this means I was right,” Aang started to say, feeling very vindicated. The others looked at him curiously. “If we had just talked about friendship in the forest, we could have sorted this out weeks ago!”

“Boo, forest friendship!” Sokka said.

“Don't boo him,” Katara admonished, elbowing her brother.

“I agree with Sokka. There's no way I would have appreciated that speech weeks ago, Aang,” Zuko said.

Sokka smiled at Zuko for saying he agreed with him. It actually wasn't that rare of an occurrence, but it still seemed to surprise Sokka every time.

“See, Aang, forest friendship is bullshit,” Sokka said.

“I didn't say that!” Zuko cut in. “I just meant, maybe … I had to be dragged all over the Earth Kingdom by you guys ... and shot ... and taken to nonsense fortune tellers ... and I had to be forced to eat Sokka's truly terrible and disgusting cooking—”

“Oi!”

“—and I had listen to Aang lecture me about friendship and vegetarianism in the forest just so I could come here.” He looked around at the deserters’ camp site. “I dunno, maybe it was meant to be this way.”

“What are you saying? You want to be forest friends with Aang now?” Sokka asked accusingly.

“I mean, sure. If Aang will have me, we can be friends,” Zuko said, and looked uncertain.

“Yay! I knew you'd want to be my friend,” Aang said, feeling delighted.

He was so happy he had a Fire Nation friend again. Kuzon had been an amazing friend, even though he'd gotten Aang into so many sticky situations. He had already thought Zuko was his friend, but it was nice to make it official. Aang always knew the Fire Nation had good people in it too, and now he had been proven right. He jumped up and gave Zuko a huge hug.

#Emletish answers #Emletish writes #Fic: No Zombies #Fic: Good Boy #Fic: Worst Prisoner

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ihavelovednone · 3 years

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Emily & Miguel: Power & control

This post is long - REALLY LONG. I’ve tried to reduce it and separate it - but it’s not really working. So here goes. It’s centered around Emily and Miguel and the power imbalance between them and the abusiveness that he displays. I hope it’s somewhat interesting and not to hard to follow - if you read it in full that is.

The initial power imbalance There are several aspects in Miguel’s and Emily’s relationship that creates a power imbalance between them. First, and probably the one that relates to every other imbalance in their relationship, is the fact that she’s a woman. That doesn’t really need any further explaining. Women are generally seen as the weaker sex and there’s a long since decided role for women that still has deep roots in our society and in Emily’s life it’s very prominent. Dita displays dislike about Emily involving herself in the search for her child for instance. Devante uses a tone that reeks of aw, little girl and Miguel is somewhere in between wanting to be the sole provider and wanting her help.

One more obvious thing is the clear age difference between Miguel and Emily. It’s kinda like a spinn on the stereotypical old husband, young wife trope - except that Miguel, even though he’s no spring chicken, is still relatively young and very attractive. Kurt Sutter and Elgin James are so subtle in the way they decide use a stereotype without stereotyping that if you don’t look closely, you miss it.

I think they met when Emily was in her final years of college or in law school and Miguel was in the start of his business career - the legal business that is. I have this idea in my head that Miguel tried really hard to impress her and she just rolled her eyes at him. Emily’s smart and strong, opinionated and a fighter, we’ve seen that in season 1 when Emily’s delivered info to Miguel about LO, called Devante out on his misogynistic shit and when she didn’t let herself get intimidated by Potter. She also found the info about the murder of EZ’s mother and called out Miguel’s hypocrisy in season 2.

At the same time there’s an insecurity within Emily. She’s probably been told several times by her parents that she’s not good enough. When Emily meets Miguel the break-up from EZ is probably still lingering, even if it was awhile ago they ended in a way that never really gave them closure - she didn’t just loose her first love, she lost someone that was a security to her. On top of that she’d lost her baby (yes I say lost because I don’t think she’d have aborted it had the circumstances been different). This probably made Emily more susceptible to Miguel’s charm.

That insecurity is very apparent in season 2 when Miguel starts spending more time with Adelita. He used to worship the ground she walked on, she was his “touchstone” and all of a sudden his work is all about taking Potter down with the help of Adelita and Emily ends up being in the background. There’s a desperation in her actions in that season. She enters territories she’d never actually enter otherwise. She’s so desperate for the Agra Park thing to work because she never chose the cartel, she chose Miguel.

There’s also a duality with Emily in season 2 - The cartel is, up until the kidnapping of Cristobal, in the background of Emily’s life. She didn’t see, she didn’t hear. I think she stayed with Miguel in the hopes that he’d liquidate the cartel and go one hundred percent legit but now, he’s rising - he’s making more money and Emily’s spurring him on. Maybe because she wants to be more involved with him, close to him, move Adelita out of the way. She wants to feel needed. It’s a weird dynamic between them, like the abused wife that wants to please her man or something.

Never in control Miguel might’ve initially been a person she found to be what EZ once was - a safe harbor, a home, a lifeline. Not necessarily financial, more emotional. Emily sees Miguels way of treating her with loving words and gifts as affection, maybe she knows that there’s something else under the beautiful exterior, maybe she doesn’t. As Erin said, they choose men that are darkness personified, hinting that they seek it out, it comes naturally - almost as a way to punish themselves for not being good enough. Miguel’s affectionate behavior bleeds into darkness, or maybe his affectionate behavior is actually something sinister altogether - like he feeds on women wanting him, needing him, he uses it to get to them.

In the midst of her vulnerability Miguel displays behaviors of wanting for her to belong to him and no one else, and that’s dangerous and toxic. She doesn’t realize that behavior as problematic until season 2 - even though it starts in season 1 when he propagates to EZ that he need to leave Emily alone - because it complicates things.

Emily’s very isolated. She has no friends, she’s got no one that’s just hers. Except for EZ when he gets out of prison, and even so, they’re not really friends either. They’re more in limbo than anything. And even though they’ve got a past - she’s got the right to spend time with whoever she wants. Or should have the right. Loyalty to a man does not derive from how few men you’re in contact with as a woman. Emily doesn’t need to go back to her man, or only stay by his side. She’s not Miguel’s property. She’s allowed to have relationships with other men - as long as she’s not actually cheating - and even if she wanted to - she’s could, it doesn’t warrant abuse of any kind.

His want for her to be a housewife - or work close by, offering her a job in his company - is toxic. Why? Well, she’s constantly under his watch, she’s doesn’t have the opportunity to make new acquaintances and friendships without those people having relations to Miguel. If Miguel were to demand information about what a person has spoken to his wife about - they’d tell him - in fear of loosing their job, or their life. Now, had Miguel not displayed other types of weird and controlling behaviors it probably wouldn’t have crossed my mind that she worked for him. It would’ve been fine.

Him having her ride with a platoon and not be left alone is, yeah, you guessed it: TOXIC. Freedom is not something that she has. You might think that Emily, just because she lives in an ocean of money and opportunity that she’s somehow free. She’s not. She has no privacy. And yeah, you could argue that Miguel’s cartel work is dangerous and therefore she needs to be protected - but at what cost? She’s constantly under the watchful eye of Miguel’s lackeys - which becomes more apparent in season 2 when Nestor’s following her every move without her knowing. They work for him - they abide to him. She doesn’t have the ability to do what ever she wants - and when she does, he abuses her, as seen in S01E05. As I said in a post that’s been deleted now: Miguel is, most of the time, abusive without actually doing it himself. He uses his staff to control her.

We’ve never actually seen Miguel give Emily any presents, probably because it’d be very stereotypical of him and Sutter and James want to avoid stereotypes. But I think he’d do something like that, considering his expensive taste in suits, cars and other things - I think he likes showing of how rich he is.

Miguel comes of as one of those people who’d use presents to stifle someone. The wife’s mad? Get her a meaningless expensive present to shut her up and simultaneously tell her you care for her without actually asking how she’s feeling. She thinks you don’t love her? Diamonds, get her some diamonds. Diamond equals love. Him throwing all kinds of materialistic shit at her is toxic and it doesn’t matter how much he loves her because his behavior ends up being manipulative and controlling every single time.

The comment you should be grateful feels like something that’d come out of his mouth to (and probably from people on the outside looking in). Not that many women get to live a life in luxury, he’d probably say. Like she should be grateful for something she never really asked for.

Conclusion This became a long post - probably longer than all my posts so far - combined. There are so many red flags with Miguel and Emily - some of them so subtle you hardly notice them. In the first episode I thought they’d go the whole sugar daddy route which might seem cool and fun in theory. But it’s in fact a very common way for young women to enter prostitution so I’m glad they didn’t go that way with it and display it like it’s no big deal - it’s all fun, look at all the pretty things I get for being a companion.

Miguel’s abusive behavior is subtle at times and yeah, he loves her and she love him, but it doesn’t matter when the relationship is so unhealthy. Writing this piece has given me a new perspective of the two as well. Emily’s desperate to not loose Miguel - why? Most likely because she’d be on her own otherwise and she’s not really ready for that and Miguel’s behavior is probably something he’s picked up from his childhood and I’m not sure he’s always aware of it. Miguel very insecure. Let’s be honest, no man comfortable within himself would ever restrain a woman’s social circle, career or freedom to roam.

#ihavelovednone writes #mayans mc #sarah bolger #emily galindo #emily thomas #danny pino #miguel galindo #jd pardo #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes

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narisjournal-blog · 3 years

Text

A Way With Words

Fandom: Cobra Kai

Pairings: Samantha Larusso x Robby Keene, Robby Keene x Miguel Diaz (platonic)

Word Count: 3490

Warnings: sexting

Notes: So in this fic Sam and Robby are together, and there are some strong Kiaz vibes. I’ve made it platonic, but it could get dirtier. I’m not comfortable posting that, though as they are underage. Please let me know what you think, I’m needy.

This would take place in season 2 after the Lawrusso double date, imagining that Sam and Robby didn’t go to the party and the shit didnt hit the fan. Thanks for reading x

A Way with Words

Robby stood at the door to Jonny’s place taking in what lay before him. His father had clearly attempted to clean but there wasn’t much you could do when so much was ingrained. The couch was old and stained, the walls an off-white that made it feel darker, and there was a constant musty smell that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. At least he had got rid of all the empty beer bottles, Robby thought.

‘I know it’s not much, not compared to the Larussos,’ Johnny said, a hint of shame in his voice. ‘But it’s home. It’s safe. You know you’re welcome any time.’

Robby sighed as the door closed behind him.

‘How long do I have to stay here?’ He asked.

He looked round and he knew from the look in Johnny’s eyes that he had hurt him.

Johnny shook his head, resigning himself to the abuse he probably deserved.

‘Just a couple days. While The Larussos are away.’

Robby gave a wry smile. ‘They don’t trust me with their daughter.’

‘Definitely not,’ Johnny laughed.

Robby rolled his eyes.

‘Oh come on, like you weren’t gonna make a move the second her parents left?’

After a beat, Robby shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

Johnny gave him a slap on the back.

‘Come on, you can suffer a few days with your old man. I think you’ll find a lot more freedom here.

‘Where shall I put my things?’

‘Right through here,’ Johnny said, leading him to the small spare room.

‘I’ll be through there. Make yourself at home.’

He left and Robby slumped down on the bed.

This is a good thing, he told himself with his head in his hands. He’s trying. That’s more than he ever has before.

He had been really resistant to the idea when His father and Mr Larusso had finally sat down to talk and come to an agreement that Robby could stay with his Dad while the family were away. Even Johnny agreed it was better for Robby to live with the Larussos for the time being because he really didn’t have that much to offer in terms of comfort or luxury.

Robby had felt disappointed that he wouldn’t get to spend the time with Sam. It was so rare they got any time alone and he had thought maybe things might heat up a little while her parents were away.

Apparently Mr Larusso was well versed in teenage boy thinking.

He started to unpack his bag when there was a knock at the front door.

‘Carmen?’ Johnny’s voice said.

‘Johnny, I’m so sorry to do this, I know it’s a lot but it’s an emergency.’ She sounded upset. Carmen? Robby thought, trying to think if he knew her.

‘Hey hey, slow down,’ Johnny said. Robby continued unpacking clothes, thinking nothing of it.

‘Are you ok? What happened?’

‘It’s my mother. She collapsed and they don’t know what’s going on, they think she may have had a heart attack. She’s in hospital out of town and’ Johnny cut her off.

‘Yaya? Oh my God I’m so sorry.’

‘Can Miggy stay here for tonight so I can be with her? Please?’

Miggy? Who the hell was... and then it dawned on him.

Miguel.

Instantly Robby’s fists clenched and he rose to his feet.

Why did he think it would be any different? He started throwing his clothes back into his bag haphazardly.

‘I uh...’ Johnny’s voice continued, sounding uncomfortable. ‘I kinda have Robby...’

‘Please, Johnny. We’ve got no-one else.’

‘Mom, come on. I’ll be fine on my own.’ Miguel’s voice.

Carmen snipped at him in rapid Spanish, then quickly switched back to English.

‘He’ll be no trouble, and I’ll pay you for food,’ she added.

‘You don’t have to do that, I...’

Robby knew what was coming. ‘Yeah, sure he can stay. I’ll just have to talk to Robby, since you guys aren’t exactly best of friends.’

‘I don’t want any trouble,’ Miguel mumbled.

Robby slammed his fist into the wall and instantly regretted it as pain shot through his whole wrist.

He sat back on the bed nursing his hand.Swirling around with the anger, he could feel the hurt and the disappointment tightening his throat. His eyes burned and he shook his head to try and control it.

Why did he ever believe it could be any different?

There was a knock at the bedroom door. He stood, throwing his bag back over his shoulder.

The door opened. Johnny looked so awkward, it was pathetic. Like he was trying to pretend the decision was hard.

‘Robby, you probably heard. Miguel’s-‘

Robby cut him off.

‘Yeah I heard. I should’ve known.’

He flexed his hand to see if the pain was easing but it throbbed once again and he winced.

‘Are you ok?’ Johnny nodded to Robby’s hand.

‘Yeah I’m just peachy,’ he retorted.

‘Did you punch a wall?’

Robby didn’t answer.

‘Oh for God’s sake.’

‘Yeah well I should have known it was stupid to think I was your priority for once when you just jump at the chance to help your favourite son,’ Robby said.

Johnny scoffed. ‘Oh will you quit being such a baby. The guy’s going through a hard time, would you just put your hate to the side for one night and be a civilised human being?’

‘Whatever, I’m going back to the Larussos,’ Robby said and made to barge past Johnny.

He forgot just how strong and stubborn his father could be. Johnny grabbed his arm and shoved him back into the room. He stumbled backwards and then found his balance to pull his fist back.

‘The hell you are. What, you just give up? This is your problem Robby, you make it so hard. I know I haven’t been perfect but I’m trying, ok? Any time I try to do right by you, to be there for you or whatever, it’s like you’re just waiting for me to fuck it up and then you shut me out again.’

‘What am I supposed to do? I can’t rely on you,’ he said.

‘Come on just take a second to calm down. Find your centre or whatever that bullshit is that Larusso is teaching you.’

Robby had been caught off guard with a blow he never expected from his father. And he was right, he did need to calm down. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.

He could feel his body calming and he hated that his father was right.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Johnny’s pleading face. Robby felt his defences ease.

‘I guess I’m just disappointed, Dad.’

Johnny’s eyes fell to the floor.

‘I get that, you have every right to be. But I can’t turn him away at a time like this, Robby. It’s the right thing to do. Deep down you know it.’

Robby sat back on the bed, resigned.

‘No fighting, alright?’ Johnny added, pointing at Robby.

‘But I-‘ Robby began to protest but he got cut off.

‘No fighting. My house, my rules.’ Robby exhaled.

‘I’m gonna go see if he’s alright,’

Johnny added then left.

Robby flopped back on the bed and ran his hands through his hair. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see a text from Sam.

‘How’s it going?’

He wrote back. ‘Not great. Your ex is staying too.’

Almost right away she was ringing him.

‘Miguel is staying with you?’ She asked sounding perplexed.

‘Yeah. Weird right?’

‘How come? Like was it planned, did your dad know?’

‘No, it’s an emergency. His grandma is in hospital.’

‘yaya? Shit...This is going to be really hard for him.’

Of course she would sympathise with Migue, he thought rolling his eyes.

‘Do you think you can be nice to him?’

‘I’m not an asshole Sam.‘

‘No but your defences are up when you’re around your dad and Miguel. You know I’m right.’

Robby sighed. She was right. After what seemed like a long silence, he spoke again.

‘Ok. Tell me how.’

‘Just try and empathise, Robby. I know it’s hard because it’s him, but just try and think about what he’s going through. ‘

Robby sighed.

‘For me?’ She added in that way she knew would make him melt.

‘Sure.’

‘I miss you’ she added, changing the subject swiftly. ‘I was kinda hoping we might get some alone time this weekend.’

‘Me too.’

‘It’s no fun all alone in this big empty house. I miss kissing you.’ Sam’s voice was soft, playful but almost shy.

‘Maybe I can come over tomorrow?’ Robby posed.

‘I can’t stop thinking about all the things we could do if you were here.’

Robby, heart pounding, drew breath to ask for more detail, but he was interrupted .

‘Robby?’ He heard Johnny shout. Then a knock at the door before it pushed open.

‘I’m getting pizza, do you want some?’

Robby sighed. ‘Sam, I gotta go. Text me. I wanna know.’

He hung up.

‘Uh yeah, I’ll go for pizza.

‘Pepperoni?’

‘Sounds good.’

‘Ok, well can you come out here and keep Miguel company while I’m gone? He’s pretty down.’

Robby couldn’t stop himself rolling his eyes. He stood and headed out the door nonetheless.

‘Is he crying?’ He asked with disdain.

Johnny slapped the back of his head on his way past.

‘Don’t be a dick,’ was all he said.

‘Ow!’ Robby rubbed his head, shocked at his father’s response.

‘Back soon,’ Johnny added as he left and closed the front door behind him.

Robby stood at the far side of the room trying to compose himself.

He looked across at Miguel, who was sat on the couch staring in the vague direction of the TV, although it wasn’t on. The boy looked so vulnerable, brown eyes wide with sadness.

Robby approached him.

‘Hey you know you’re supposed to turn it on first, right?’ He said.

Miguel seemed to snap out of some daydream and gave a faintly sarcastic smile.

‘You’re funny,’ he muttered. There was a long pause before Robby spoke again. He was surprised to realise he actually felt nervous.

‘Hey, you want a beer?’ Robby asked.

Miguel furrowed his brow in confusion. ‘We’re not...’ Robby raised an eyebrow.

‘Sure,’ Miguel shrugged, not wishing to argue.

Robby went to the refrigerator and grabbed two of Johnny’s Coors Banquets, looking around for a bottle opener. He opened them both and handed one to Miguel, who took it cautiously. ‘Are you sure? Won’t Sensei be pissed?’

‘Not at you,’ Robby said pointing the bottle to Miguel and sitting on the couch next to him. ‘You can get away with anything right now. I’m using you as a human shield. To your Grandma,’ He added, taking a big swig.

Miguel sighed, raised his bottle and said ‘to Yaya,’ then drank. He pulled a face at the taste and Robby laughed.

‘Yeah it’s shit.’

‘Why are you drinking it then?’

‘Because I can,’ Robby shrugged, taking another big swig.

They drank in silence for a while until Robby knocked back the last of his beer and stood to put the bottle on the table.

He didn’t realise his phone had slid out of his pocket - the shorts he was wearing were tight and had terrible pockets. He always managed to lose his phone when he wore them.

Robby was looking through the cupboards to see if there was anything decent to eat when he heard Miguel exclaim.

‘Woah, dude. You should really lock your screen.’

Robby whipped round to find Miguel holding his phone and reading something.

‘Hey!’ He yelled. ‘Give that back.’ He volted over the back of the couch to try and catch Miguel in a headlock so he could grab his phone back but Miguel was too fast and on his feet before Robby landed.

‘I miss your lips against mine,’ Miguel read, mocking in his tone. ‘I’ve been thinking about the way-’ Robby had grabbed him and pushed him to the wall but Miguel still managed to hold his phone out of reach and finish reading.

‘About the way you pressed me against the wall when you kissed me. I wish we hadn’t got interrupted.’ He laughed but relented and let Robby snatch his phone back. Robby considered punching him in the stomach for good measure, but thought better of it.

He opened the message from Sam and read through it again.

‘That’s private,’ he said, cheeks flushing against his will.

‘Well you certainly made an impression on Sam,’ Miguel added.

Robby was trying to think of some retort, but his mind was still half on what Sam had said.

‘You shouldn’t have read that,’ he said, glaring at Miguel.

‘Ok, I’m sorry. Come on I’m not trying to start anything... it was just there. I need something to take my mind off things anyway.’

‘And my private conversations are what you chose?’

Robby read the message again. He didn’t know where to go with that. He tried to think of what to say back to her but kept drawing a blank. He’d never been that good with words.

‘Are you ok?’ Miguel asked, actually sounding like he meant it.

‘Yeah. I just...’

Robby looked up and saw Miguel was staring at him, so he looked away quickly. He wished it wasn’t Miguel that was here right now. He really didn’t want to mess this up with Sam.

‘Look I’m sorry, but you don’t need to be embarrassed.’ Miguel continued to watch Robby. ‘Are you gonna reply?’

‘What? No that’s none of your business! I’m not talking about this. Just keep out of it ok?’

Robby stormed back to his room and slammed the door.

Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed, taking another drink of the awful beer. He had thought they were getting somewhere, but Robby was just so highly strung it was impossible.

He was trying to work out if he should feel jealous when Robby’s door opened again slowly. Miguel looked round and Robby stood half in half out staring at his phone still.

He looked up.

‘Should I reply?’ He asked.

‘Dude, yes. You have to reply. You can’t leave her hanging like that.’

Robby bit his lip, thinking.

‘What... what though?’

He walked back over to sit beside Miguel again.

‘Just tell her what you want.’

Robby looked up at Miguel, doubt in his eyes.

‘Look, if you were with her right now, what would you do?’

Robby shifted uncomfortably.

‘You do know what to do, right?’

‘Oh fuck off,’ Robby retorted. ‘It’s just not the same. Like, if I was with her, it would just happen. I get a read off her energy, you know?’

Miguel laughed. ‘You are so Miyagi-do.’

‘Just help me ok? What do I say?’ Robby pleaded.

‘Pick up where she left off.’

Robby’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard but nothing came.

Miguel sighed and held his hand out for the phone.

‘What are you crazy? I’m not giving you my phone again.’

‘Look I’m not gonna send anything, I’ll just start you off, ok? Come on. I have a way with words.’

‘Oh like you have a tonne of experience or something?’ Robby scoffed.

‘No, I just...’ he sighed. ‘I read a lot of fanfiction. Don’t,’ he added when Robby laughed. ‘You can learn a lot from fanfiction. Come on.’

Reluctantly, Robby handed over his phone.

He watched over Miguel’s shoulder as he typed and laughed in disbelief at the explicit picture Miguel was painting with his words.

‘Oh my god,’ he said. ‘I can’t send that.’

Miguel didn’t answer while he concentrated.

‘Ok I’ve changed my mind. Give me my phone back. That’s straight up porn, there’s no way I’m sending that.’ Robby tried to grab his phone but Miguel instinctively dodged and held it out of reach again while he finished typing.

‘No come on I said I changed my mind,’ Robby tried again, grabbing Miguel this time and shoving him to the floor, straddling him with his arm across his chest to hold him down.

Miguel gasped and looked at Robby with guilty eyes.

‘What?’ Robby asked, not catching on. Miguel looked down at Robby’s phone, the message bar now empty. It had sent.

‘Fuck,’ Robby said, grabbing his phone back but not letting Miguel up. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘I’m sorry, you knocked me. I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry,’ Miguel garbled, flinching away but also trying not to laugh.

Robby pressed his arm into Miguel’s chest harder, which made him cough. The cough turned to laughter and Robby wasn’t sure why but he ended up laughing too. It was so absurd and he didn’t know what else to do.

That was when the front door opened and Johnny came in.

Robby realised he still had Miguel pinned and quickly let him go.

‘Were you guys... fighting?’ Johnny asked, not sure what he had walked in on.

‘We we’re just messing around,’ Robby said quickly, glancing at Miguel who was brushing himself off and standing up.

Johnny narrowed his eyes looking from one boy to the other. ‘Whatever. Come give me a hand with this Robby,’ He added and handed him the pile of pizzas.

Robby looked again at his phone, still in shock at what had just happened, gave another glance back to Miguel who was trying not to laugh again. He shoved it in his pocket, and put the pizzas on the table.

Johnny was at the fridge.

‘Did you drink my beer?’ He asked.

‘Sorry sensei,’ Miguel said quickly. ‘It was my idea. I needed something to take my mind off Yaya.’

Johnny looked at them both again, suspecting there was some kind of conspiring happening.

‘Alright...’ he said, looking from one boy to the other. ‘Just nobody tell Carmen alright, I don’t wanna be on her bad side.’

He grabbed a beer, opened it and threw himself onto the couch.

‘You guys wanna watch a movie?’

Robby handed a pizza box to Miguel, grabbed the other two then leaned in as he walked past.

‘He’s totally trying to bang your Mom,’ he muttered, grinning.

***

The three of them had settled into the film and the pizza, all crammed onto that couch. Robby and Miguel had spent half the time pushing each other and complaining that the other was taking up too much space.

Robby felt his phone buzz in his pocket and instantly remembered what had happened. He shared a worried glance with Miguel, who also felt it buzz.

He pulled his phone out to look. It was from Sam, of course.

‘Robby that was hot,’ was all she said. Then the three dots appeared to show she was writing back.

Robby tapped Miguel’s leg, although he was already reading it. They grinned at each other. Miguel shrugged as if to say ‘I told you.’

After a few minutes her message came through. Robby didn’t even try to hide it from Miguel now. His heart raced as he read through her words, telling him what she wanted. Miguel exclaimed and tried to pretend he was coughing so Johnny wouldn’t catch on.

Robby shifted awkwardly. Part of him wanted to go to his room and be alone, but then he also still needed help. The cursor blinked at him.

Miguel, who was now leaning quite heavily into him to see what he was writing, held his hand out. Robby gave him his phone with no hesitation this time.

‘If I was there with you now I would...’ he typed then handed it back.

Robby sighed. He started typing something out as Miguel reached over and grabbed a couple of slices of pizza. He held one out to Robby.

Robby took it absently. He was staring at the screen again.

He looked up helplessly at Miguel. Miguel nodded encouragement and Robby added more to his text.

‘What are you boys doing ?’ Johnny asked, noticing their focus had shifted.

‘Homework,’ Robby said quickly.

‘Group chat,’ Miguel said at the same time.

After a beat, Miguel clarified. ‘It’s a study group chat.’

Johnny shrugged it off. He didn’t believe them but they weren’t fighting so he honestly didn’t care.

Robby sent his message after a nod from Miguel. He left his phone unlocked on his knee and they both stared at the TV while they waited.

After several minutes, a picture flashed up on Robby’s phone. Sam had sent a selfie in her underwear.

Robby gasped and grabbed his phone quickly and locked it, but not before Miguel had seen.

Miguel just gave him an approving slap on the back.

Robby cleared his throat.

‘Yeah I’m gonna get a shower,’ he said, standing up a swiftly and leaving the room.

‘Is he alright?’ Johnny sighed.

Miguel grinned in that knowing way of his.

‘He’s fine, trust me. He’s just really excited about this homework.’

***

If anyone wants to be tagged in future writes then let me know.

#kiaz #robby keene #miguel diaz #sam larusso x robby keene #samantha larusso #robby keene x miguel diaz #robby x miguel #cobra kai #cobra kai fanfic #ck fanfic #johnny lawrence

50 notes · View notes

breanime · 4 years

Note

Hey love! Would loveee to see “Who did this?” With our favorite cartel boss/papi, Miguel Galindo!

TW: abuse, physical abuse, violence

The last thing you wanted to do was go to Miguel with your problems. You’d been his rock, and he was yours, but then his pinche gringa came back into his life after her last boyfriend got locked up, and he got all caught up in the idea of having her on his arm and well…

Your man dropped you like a bad habit.

So you moved on.

You married a man who you liked, but didn’t love, and moved to live with him. It was hard—impossible—not to compare him to Miguel, but you tried to look past the fact that he wasn’t Miguel Galindo. That was the point, actually. He wasn’t Miguel, he was supposed to be good to you.

But he wasn’t.

And so now it was 2 in the morning, and you were pulling up to Miguel’s mansion—home. You couldn’t see them, but you knew there were security all over the place. Even though it was the middle of the night, you were confident that someone knew you were there. You parked, sighing, and put your head on the wheel.

“This was a mistake,” you said outloud to yourself, “This was so dumb. I’m an idiot, I…”

You were interrupted by someone knocking on your window. You jumped, looking up to see a frowning Nestor. You rolled your window down.

“Y/N… What are you doing here?” He asked. He squinted. “And why are you wearing shades? The sun isn’t even out yet.”

“I, uh… Was wondering if I could talk to Miguel? Ask a favor?” You paused. “I mean… if he’s even here?”

“He’s here,” Nestor opened your door for you, “It might actually do Mikey some good, seeing you…”

You stepped out, staring up at the house through your sunglasses. This could have been your life, instead of…

You let Nestor lead you through the house, trying—and failing—not to ogle. You could easily tell which items had been picked out by Miguel, by Dita, and by the wife—there wasn’t much that seemed to belong to Emily. You could tell Nestor had questions, but he was trying to play the role of bodyguard and not old friend, so he just stayed quiet.

“Hold on,” he said, stopping in front of a closed door, “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself, and waited.

Three minutes later, Miguel walked out, followed by Nestor. Nestor gave you a smile as he walked off, and then you were left face to face with the only man you’d ever love—

—the man who broke your heart.

“Y/N,” he said, sounding breathless even though you were sure he’d just been sitting at his desk a minute ago, “This is a surprise.” He held an arm out, angling his body so that you could move past him. “Come in.”

Miguel smelled like Miguel: expensive cologne and the same aftershave he’d been using since you met him. You walked into his office and noted the sparse decorations and feel of power in it. That was all Miguel.

“I, uh, saw that you moved a few years back,” he said, going over to his desk, “Are you moving back here?” He gestured to the seat across from him.

“Um… No, I mean… I don’t think so,” you answered, taking a seat. “I…” You sighed. “Fuck. I’m really sorry about this, Miguel.” You stood up, heart pounding. “I shouldn’t have come here, I shouldn’t—”

“—Hey,” he stood up, too, coming around and putting his hand on your arm, “What’s going on?”

You took a breath. How did he still look so good at 2 in the morning through the darkened lens of your sunglasses? “I need a favor.”

Miguel took a step back, frowning, his hands on his hips. “A favor?” He repeated. “I haven’t heard from you in how long, and you want a favor?”

“I know,” you shook your head, “It’s… I don’t deserve one, I know—”

“—I didn’t say that,” he interrupted, “I’m just… confused. What kind of favor?” His eyes narrowed. “And what’s with the glasses?”

You wanted to lie. You wanted to run away and disappear in a hole. You wanted him to hold you. You wanted so many things, but in the end, even though Miguel broke your heart and made you feel smaller than a cockroach, when you were in trouble, he was the only one you wanted to run to.

You just wanted Miguel.

So, to answer his question, you took off your sunglasses.

You watched Miguel’s eyes go wide, and then go dark with rage. He was in front of you now, his chest heaving as he stared at your black eye. “Who did this?” He asked, his voice low and just barely above a growl.

You took a breath. “Greg. My husband.” You answered.

Miguel made a noise, his hand going to the side of your face. “Pendejo,” he said under his breath, “I’m gonna…” He stopped himself. “When did this happen? He do this tonight?”

You nodded. “I, uh… He…” You blinked, suddenly your eyes were filling with tears, and suddenly you were crying. You couldn’t stop, you were shaking, you were short of breath.

Miguel grabbed you and held you to his chest, his hands wrapping around you—and suddenly, you were safe. “Shh,” he whispered into your hair, “don’t cry, mi corazon, don’t cry… I promise you, I’ll take care of this…” You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head. “He will never hurt you again.”

“I know,” you said into his chest, “I killed him.”

Miguel pulled back. “You killed him?”

“I—I—I think so,” you answered, “He was… He was hitting me, and throwing me around, and…” You gripped Miguel’s sleeves. “…I hit him over the head with a bottle, and he fell, and I don’t know if…”

“I’m on it,” he said, “Wait here.” He kissed your forehead before walking out of the room, closing the door behind him.

You sunk into the chair, wiping your eyes. Shit shit shit. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what Miguel was going to do, shit—you weren’t even sure what you’d done. Did you murder a man? And if you did… Shouldn’t you feel bad?

Miguel came back in with two glasses of bourbon. He handed one to you and took the other. “I’m sending a few guys to your place,” he told you, sitting across from you, “They’re gonna assess the situation, and get back to me.” He eyed you, and you knew—because you knew Miguel—that he was wondering what damage you had that he couldn’t see. “You’re staying here tonight.”

You blinked. “Oh, no, I… I couldn’t. I was just gonna get a room at a motel.”

“Please,” he said, and you knew that word didn’t cross his lips often, “Just stay here. I just… I need to know you’re safe.”

“Your wife won’t mind?”

He gave a humorless chuckle. “My wife isn’t here,” he shrugged, “marital problems,” he explained.

“Yeah,” you smiled, “I know what that’s like…”

Miguel’s face darkened. “Was this the first time?” He asked.

You shrugged one shoulder. “It used to be just yelling and screaming,” you said casually, “then it was getting in my face, but tonight, he just…” You shuddered just thinking about it. “I thought he was going to kill me…” You put your head in your hands. “Oh God, Miguel, what am I going to do?”

“Hey,” he reached over the desk and took your hand, lowering it so he could see your face, “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it… I promise you, mi amor, I’ll take care of it.”

You pulled your hand back. He was helping you out, doing you a favor, but you couldn’t let yourself fall back into the Miguel pool. Last time you were in it, you nearly drowned. “Don’t… You can’t call me that, Miguel,” you said, “not anymore…”

“Why not?” He asked.

“Because that’s what you used to call me back when…” You swallowed. “You shouldn’t call me that.”

“But it’s as true now as it was back then,” Miguel said back, “Can you just…” He sighed. “Imagine if things would have turned out the way they should have… you and me…” He shook his head. “…That son of a bitch would have never put his hands on you.”

“You fell in love with the pinche—with Emily,” you amended, “and you have this life now… It’s… You’re doing well—great, actually.”

“I’m successful, yes,” he nodded, “but I’m not happy. I’m not in love—I mean, I am… I’m in love with you.”

“Miguel…”

“I never stopped loving you,” he went on, “And I know it’s my fault that we… I messed us up, I know that, and I will never forgive myself for that, but I want… I want to start over.”

“You’re married,” you reminded him, “I’m married.”

“Only if you didn’t kill him,” he answered, “and even if you didn’t; I will.”

You blinked, your heart pounding. “You—you would kill him?”

“If you haven’t already? Yeah,” he nodded, “of course I would kill for you. No question. Now,” he stood up and walked over to you, his hand going to your cup your face, “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

You let Miguel take your hand and lead you to the bathroom. He washed your face, his eyes lingering on your various bruises. He brought you some clothes—which he promised weren’t his wife’s—and you took a nice, hot shower. When you got out, Miguel was waiting for you in the kitchen.

“Have you eaten?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not since lunch time…”

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, “Here, sit. Let me make you something…”

You sat, hands in your lap as you watched Miguel move around the kitchen.

“You know, a few years ago,” he said, his back to you, “you would have been making fun of me for this…” He turned, sliding a glass of orange juice over to you. “You used to hate my cooking.”

“Yeah, well,” you took a sip of your juice, “A few years ago, I wasn’t married to a man who thought slamming me into a wall was communication. This,” you toasted him with the OJ, “is luxury to me.” You shrugged, pausing when you saw the look on Miguel’s face—he looked murderous. “I just mean…”

“I know what you mean,” he said, turning back to the stove, “Things have changed, for both of us. And that’s on me.”

The two of you didn’t speak for a while after that. You ate in silence, and Miguel had to take a call after, so you took yourself to bed. You sleep like a baby, comfortable in Miguel’s guest room and enjoyed a dreamless sleep. When you woke up, after you got dressed, you spent a good ten minutes staring in the mirror. Your eye was black and purple, so you threw on your shades before stepping out and finding Miguel. He was in his office, at his desk, going through papers.

“Hi…” You said, arms wrapped around yourself.

“Good morning, mi… Good morning,” he said, standing up. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really well,” you answered, “thank you… Did you find out…?”

“He lived,” Miguel shrugged, “Nestor’s got him on my church pew right now.”

“Your what?” You asked, letting Miguel take your sunglasses off. He pocketed them and put his hand on your face, angling it.

“My church pew,” he answered, “It’s where I do my… messier business.”

“So he’s still alive?”

“For now.” Miguel’s hand went to the back of your neck, warm and gentle. “There are some things we need to discuss, hermosa,” he said.

“Like what?” You asked.

“Like what’s next.” He moved a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m going to kill him,” he said, not at all shy about his murderous intentions, “and I’m going to enjoy it. It’s going to be slow,” he went on, “and I’m going to make sure he knows that this is because of what he did to you. And then,” his hand dropped away from your face, “I’m going to come back here, shower, and start seeing what exactly it is I have to do to get you back.” He smiled. “What’s next for you?”

“You… You’re still married. And so am I—”

“—only for the next few hours,” he said back, “and I’m separated. Emily’s been dragging her feet on signing the papers, but everything’s in the works. You know I’m still in love with you, mi corazon, and I know you came back because you needed this favor, and that’s fine. But I’m in love with you. And I fucked things up, I know, by settling for Emily, but I want to spend the rest of my days making it up to you.”

Your heart was pounding. You hadn’t felt like this—weightless and warm and safe and wanted—for so long…since you’d last been with Miguel. “I can’t stay here, Miguel.”

“Yes you can.”

“I can’t.” You smiled. “I need my own space, and I need to rebuild. I need to find myself again…” You took a breath. “But if you want to start making things up to me… Maybe you can let me stay here for a few days until I find a place?”

He nodded. “I can do that.”

“And maybe we can… go out to dinner sometime…” You said. Miguel’s eyes brightened, and you smiled. “Reminisce on the old days, talk about that time you killed my husband…”

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t. I’ll hurt him, and for the record, I think he needs to be put down, but if you don’t want me to…” He licked his lips. “I’m serious, Y/N, I’ll do anything to get you back. And I realize it won’t happen overnight, but… I’d like to try.”

“Did you mean it?” You asked. “When you said you love me still?”

“Yes,” he said back, no hesitation, “I love you.”

You reached out and took his hand in yours. “I can’t… I can’t say it back… not yet…”

“Not yet?” He repeated, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

“But,” you went on, “I can say this…” You stepped up and pressed your lips against his, and you felt Miguel’s hands on your waist, keeping you close. When you stepped back, his eyes were still closed. “Thank you.”

“Anything,” he said, opening his eyes. He reached out and brushed his thumb against your bottom lip. “For you, I’d do anything.”

Anything, according to Miguel, ended up meaning a lot. He went with you to your husband’s funeral, sent his lawyer with you to the meeting with the life insurance people, took you out for dinners and invited you over for homemade brunches, helped you find a nice condo, bought you and Dita gorgeous flowers for Valentine’s Day, and took you on some wonderful dates.

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in his arms to his soft kisses and caresses, laughing with him as you watched TV, and rubbing his forehead after he’d had a long day. You stood by his side when Emily came to collect the last of her things, and Miguel whisked you away to the Bahamas the day after…

…and when you moved into his place, there was nothing around but smiles—from Dita, to Nestor, all the way up to your man: Miguel himself. And that night, as he kissed you and held you and told you how much he adored you, you knew that you were where you belonged. And if you did come across a problem…

…you could always go to Miguel to solve it.

*******************************************************************************************

Ya’ll see what I did there? I tried to make this a “getting back together” with Miguel fic. Also, this got long as hell and I don’t know how. Thanks for reading!

Everything Taglist: @encounterthepast @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @charlylama @realduckvader @teacuplotus @whovianayesha @lexxierave @loveintheroyalfamily @fanfictionrecommendations-com @maxslime-blog @songforhema @lucielandss @themadhatter92 @christinawxxx @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @luminex3 @ashkuuuu @luckysstrikes @carlaangel86 @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @iaintnofurry @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19 @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @bitch-imma-head-out @witchygagirl @geeksareunique @sparrows-books

Nick Amaro/Miguel Galindo Taglist: @glimmerglittergirl @cococruz-mayansmc

Mayans MC Taglist: @vicmackeybullshxt

#miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo imagine #miguel galindo #mayans mc #breanime's mini drabbles

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shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years

Text

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

CHAPTER 7

A/N: Okay. So this one is a long one. It’s like 10k. Many things happen. A lot of family drama but fluff to even it out. So we see the return of Javier and Horacio, briefly along with some Steve. Escobar and Valeria appear and are not viewed in great light. (Valeria is not my favorite character tbh).

Warnings: Okay. So. There is some childhood abuse talked about, nothing in extreme detail but I marked when it begins and when its safe again. There’s a brief mention of an attempted assault, not detailed just implied. Um.

As always: “Speak” “Spanish” ‘Thoughts’

She had cleaned up the house for the most part and was satisfied with the work she had done. She had just started to sit down when there was a knock on her. She made her way to the door, answering it.

“Salcedo? What brings you here?” She asked surprised.

“Pacho wants you close by. Escobar is not happy and Pacho is worried that you may be a target,” He quickly explained.

She sighed, somewhat annoyed, “And I’m guessing I don’t have much of a choice in this matter?”

Salcedo gave her an apologetic look.

“Let me go get some things. I have 2 boxes of mail to go through so that shall be coming with us,” She tells him quickly.

She handed him the box of cards, letters and small gifts. He took it with a nod and another guard came up and took the heavier box from her family in New York. She grabbed some of her own clothes, and necessities packing them into a suitcase quickly. Once she was ready, they drove her to Pacho’s home.

She walked in, noticing the brothers were there with Pacho. She sees Alvaro sitting next to him reading a book, a notepad near him for when he stopped to write every so often.

She made her way over to the couch, taking the open seat by Pacho quietly. He continued to speak to Miguel about something, the only sign that he gave that he noticed she was there, was his hand coming to rest on her knee.

Salcedo and Córdova set her boxes near her, before taking her suitcase upstairs to her room.

While they talked, she began opening cards. Most of them were from other fighters, who wished her a happy birthday and told her they missed her.

Some had cash stuffed in their cards. Others they sent a gift, that was in the form of a fox. She lined up several trinkets, shakers, towels, and such, all fox themed.

Gilberto asked with a laugh, “Why do you have so many foxes, little one?”

“It’s a long story…” She said with a shake of her head.

She had eventually gotten through all of the birthday wishes, and all that was left was regular mail, so she set the box aside for now.

She walked over to the heavier box, laying it down flat. She pulled out a knife to cut the tape that sealed it. As she pulled open the flats, the first thing she saw was a note resting near a some brand new boxing gloves.

She quickly pulled them with an excited squeak.

“Yesss. Been needing a new pair,” She mumbled throwing a glove on to see how it fit.

She clenched her fist a few times, checking it out. Once she was satisfied, she set them gently onto the coffee table. She turned back to the box and noticed there was plain white box sitting in there as well, so she set it and the note aside for a moment. She cleared away the tissue to find bubble wrap and it was tightly wound across the large item that was inside.

She gently cut down the sides of the cardboard box, so it was completely flat. She then gently lifted the item up and began to unwrap it one-handed.

She slowly revealed a shadow box, that had her old fight outfit, a few news articles, and her first pair of gloves pinned inside.

“The Silver Vixen?” Came Pacho’s voice as he walked up to get a closer look at it.

“That was my fight name,” She said softly staring at the items inside fondly.

She looked up, and gently waved over a couple guards, asking them to put it some place safe for her. They did, carrying it off to the side. She turned to the white box and note.

She opened the note reading it quickly.

‘Hey sis, on the off chance that you ever come back home, we figured you should have the proper gear and attire beforehand. Love you, Happy Birthday! – Jack & Andy’

“Oh lord,” She whispered as she realized what exactly was in the white box.

Pacho raised an eyebrow, looking at her expectantly.

“Well. Go on. Show us,” His voice was teasing.

She pulled the lid off, shoved the tissue paper away and pulled out a sports bra, a pair of shorts, and a silk robe, all in a dark silver. All embellished with the words “Silver Fox” in white stitching.

“You never told me you were a fighter,” Pacho noted staring at the items.

“I mean… I only did like 10 tournaments/matches,” She waved it off.

“Uh huh. And how many did you lose?” Gilberto asked with a teasing smile.

She looked every which direction, not making eye contact as she not so casually scratched her face, before holding up one finger.

“One? You lost one match?” Miguel asked with a shake of his head.

“Yeah. I did it for a year… during my last match, there was an FBI recruiter in the crowd, and he told me I should apply. So… I did,” She explained briefly, retaking her seat. “And now here I am.”

Pacho leaned over and quietly whispered, “I find that strangely sexy. I might have to see some of these moves of yours.”

She shook her head, smiling at him somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m really not that good. Just… quick,” She replied modestly.

As they resumed talking about business, she grabbed the rest of her mail at the bottom of the box.

She quickly flicked through them, determining them to be junk mail. She checked the box and saw a manilla envelope at the bottom, she grabbed it setting it to the side as she dumped her cards and gifts back into the box, tossing the fighting outfit in there as well.

She was following along with their conversation, as she set the somewhat thick envelope onto her lap.

She looked down at it, her breath catching in her throat as she noticed the address. She swallowed thickly as her hands pulled the plain envelope off, turning it around to open it.

She opens it with somewhat shaky hands, and sees a newspaper sticking out of it. She pulls it out, unfolding it. After flipping it over, she noted it was the local newspaper from her hometown. More specifically, the obituary section. Her eyes drifted down to the column smacked dab in the middle of the page.

‘Aurelia Lage, 59, passed away…’

That was all she was able to read before she dropped the paper. She stood up suddenly and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of tequila before walking outside.

Pacho, grabbed the newspaper that she had dropped, searching it for answers. He quickly found it, recognizing the last name. He sets the paper down and grabs the manila envelope and slowly follows her outside.

She was sitting on the grass, the bottle of tequila resting between her legs. Her face was pale, and she was trembling.

He slowly made his way over to her, sitting by her side. He watched her take a long drink, with a small grimace.

“Your mother?” He prompted quietly.

Blix nodded her head.

“I. I don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Happy? Numb? How does one feel, knowing that the person who hated your entire existence is dead?” She asked rhetorically.

She sighed heavily, knowing she had to finally tell him everything.

“My mother… She uh… had my sisters with her first husband. He died… and she went on the hunt for husband number 2,” She began with a scoff.

“She found him in the mayor of our fair town. A married man, mind you. He and his wife… were having trouble conceiving a child. That was the kind of woman my mother was. She saw a woman, who tried and tried to have kids, and saw it as a weakness to take advantage of,” Blix said bitterly. “They had their affair. She got pregnant, but uhh… so did his wife. His wife had a healthy baby boy… a month after I was born. Do you know what it’s like to have sibling who has no idea you exist?”

Pacho didn’t respond, he just wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close.

TRIGGER WARNING

“Suffice it to say, the mayor left my mother. And me. The… abuse… started slowly. I would get in trouble far more often than my sisters, even if I wasn’t involved. Time outs were longer. Which slowly led to her locking me in my room… and starving me for days. My sisters… they tried to help, but I didn’t want them to get in trouble…” She took a deep breath, having to steal her nerves to explain the next part.

“When that longer worked, it became physical. I’m not going to explain all of it… but it came to a head when I was 15. She threw a vase at me. It broke against my face. I uhh. I needed 100 stitches to close the wounds,” She stuttered, sniffling as tears began to fall.

TW END

“I grabbed what money I had hidden, from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. Ran away, once the stitches were out. I made my way to New York. Got busted with some other kids with stolen goods. Judge sent me to a group home and made me go to therapy. That lasted a month,” She snorted at the memory.

“Was about 19. Trying to find shelter from the rain. A couple of guys… cornered me. It was pretty obvious… what they had planned. Tried to fight them off. The owner of the building we were next to, heard the commotion. Scared them off. Took me in. Gave me a job at his gym. Made me get my GED. Was his best fighter for a year, before I became an FBI agent. Traveled the world. Landed here...” She trailed off.

“Met a man who, while a commitment-phobe, taught me to love myself as is. Then I ran into you… and the past 2 months? Have been the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” She stated, looking at him.

Pacho smiled softly, beckoning her to him. She slowly crawls into his lap; she goes to bury her face into his shoulder but stops.

“I’m going to ruin your shirt,” She mumbled.

“Honey. I can literally buy 20 of these. I don’t care if you ruin it,” He informed her quietly, running his hand through her hair.

She stared at him for a moment, before slowly burying her face into him, as smalls sobs began to rake through her body. He quietly shushed her, running his hands up and down her back.

She’s not sure how long she sat like, but by the time her tears became small sniffles, she was exhausted. She slowly pulled away, rubbing her face to dry it off.

Pacho slowly pulls the envelope forward, asking, “Do you want me to open it?”

She nodded her head, “It’s her will for sure, but I don’t know what else is in it.”

“How do you know that?” Pacho inquired as he gently opened it.

“The name. Whit Jacobson? He does all of the will and testaments. He also runs the funeral home and crematorium. ‘Your one stop shop, for when a family member drops.’” She mocked, her eyes rolling.

Pacho paused in his movements, “Please do not tell me… that was his slogan?”

She nodded her head, smiling tightly.

Pacho shook his head, pulling out the documents inside. She took it with shaky hands, looking it over. She noticed almost immediately… that it was off. There were large gaps between each paragraph and some sentences even cut off halfway through a word.

“Great. Now I need lawyer to help me deal with this bullshit,” She muttered annoyed.

She looked back toward Pacho’s hand as he pulled out a few stacks of photos. She froze as she looked at them. The first photo in each stack, was of one of her sisters. A small smile appeared as she examined them.

“Your sisters?” Pacho realized, noticing how they all resembled one another.

“This is Lily, Hope and Darla,” She pointed them out with a sigh. “Lily is the sweetest, Hope the craziest, and Darla, the oldest, is the serious one.”

“They sound lovely… but none of them could hold a candle to you,” He said sweetly.

She smiled shyly at that, and gently placed the photos back into the envelope, swearing to look at them more closely later, and put the will back in as well. Pacho made her stand up and led her over to one of the outside tables and told her to wait there.

A few minutes later, he walked back outside with a plate of food and two forks. He sat down in one of the seats and pulled her into his lap.

“Eat. Need to soak up some of that tequila you’ve been drinking,” He teased her handing her a fork.

She shook her head and took a few bites. The two of them quietly ate, occasionally playfully fighting over a piece with their forks.

Halfway through, he slowly stopped, pulling away slightly. She looked at him confused, setting her fork down, turning her attention to him.

“The last thing… my father ever said to me, was that I will never be a man. He told me this after he caught me with a neighbor boy. I was 16 and he threw me out on the streets,” He slowly began, a bitterness in his tone.

“I began working with the Cali soon after. Worked my way up the ranks. At one point… another guy, was pissed that I was doing so well. Ratted me out to the Gilberto & Miguel. Told them I wasn’t man enough, that I didn’t belong. Do you know what they did?” Pacho asked her.

She shook her head.

“They made me partner. All I am, all I have is because of them,” Pacho ended with a sigh.

She started to say something but stopped herself, voting to instead take another bite of food.

“What?” Pacho lightly asked.

She paused before mentioning, “That day… in the hotel? When we talked about the surrender? You made a face or.. maybe it was your tone… but I had feeling that you weren’t thrilled by the idea. It makes more sense now. The cartel. It’s allowed you to live how you want, without restraint or fear. Without it, what are you left with?”

He gave a short laugh, nodding his head. “You noticed that, but fail to notice several men eyeing you like your hottest thing they’ve ever seen?”

“I notice what’s important, silly. Those guys? In the long run, mean nothing to me. You, on the other hand, mean a great deal to me,” She whispered pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Also. Who was this asshole that tried to out you? Need to know in case I need to stab a hoe,” She half-joked.

“A Salvador, no one of importance to be honest. But I appreciate you wishing to defend my honor,” He laughed.

“I’m going to go to bed. Do you mind if I crash in yours? Don’t… want to be alone,” She said soberly.

He nodded his head, giving her a kiss. “I’ll join you in a little bit, alright?”

She smiled and stood up, making her way inside. She was on autopilot making her way upstairs, she didn’t even bother stopping by her room. She stepped into Pacho’s bedroom, making her way over to his closet. She grabbed one of his plain long sleeve button-ups. She stripped down to just her underwear and threw the shirt on.

She went into the bathroom to clean her face and do her business. A few minutes later, she had crawled under the covers, holding one of the pillows closely to her as she quickly fell asleep.

Downstairs, Pacho walked into the living room, sighing heavily.

“What happened?” Gilberto asked curious.

“She was informed in not so many words, that her psychotic mother passed away. She needs a lawyer to look at this will, it’s terribly edited and I’m sure someone was trying to pull a fast one,” He briefly informed him, dropping the will onto the coffee table.

“We will get ours right on it. Go to her. Gilberto and I will crash here tonight, and make phone calls in the morning, okay?” Miguel stated firmly standing up with Gilberto.

“Careful Miguel. It almost sounds like you care about her?” Gilberto teased.

“She’s a good girl and she’s good for you. She’s the Lady of Cali after all,” Miguel pointed out looking at Pacho, referencing her newly acquired nickname.

Pacho nodded and bid them goodnight. Alvaro looked at his brother and noticed he was fidgeting.

“You told her about our father,” He stated more than asked.

Pacho looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re fidgeting. You only ever do after talking about him,” Alvaro explained nodding towards Pacho’s hands.

Pacho had no response to that, and just smiled tightly.

“Go get some rest little brother,” Pacho recommended after a moment, making his way to the stairs.

When he got to his bedroom, he paused, staring at Blix who was in the middle of the bed, passed out. He noted with a soft smile that she was in one of his shirts. He quietly got ready for bed, and as he slid in next to her, she turned over, reaching for him.

He settled in, pulling her close, listening to her sigh happily as she snuggled into his arms. He noticed after a moment, Diego standing at the doorway.

Diego had come up after one of the guards who had been patrolling outside, overheard their conversation and relayed it to several others.

He strips down to just his boxer, and gently, hesitantly, lays behind her, wrapping an arm around her. She blearily looked at his arm, noticing the extra warmth, and just slowly held it to her.

Once she was back to sleep, Diego quietly asked, “How is she so nice? Survived all of that, and… is not bitter at the world?”

Pacho hummed, “I think she’s more bitter than she lets on. She just doesn’t want the world to see it. We can talk later. I don’t want to wake her up.”

Diego nodded his head, and the two of them slowly fell asleep.

When Blix woke up the next morning, she was slightly disoriented. Her eyes blinked open slowly, confused as to why she was so warm. She glanced down and noticed two different arms were wrapped around her waist. Looking to her left and right, she spotted Pacho and Diego, sleeping contently on either side of her.

She smiled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of her eyes. When her vision was cleared, she spotted Alvaro waiting by the door, smirking at the sight before him.

“Hey,” She softly greeted.

“Good morning. Your phone’s been ringing, I figured you should probably answer it,” Alvaro greeted, showing her phone in his hand.

She nodded, gently sitting up, trying not to wake either men. She eventually stood up, and gingerly walked toward the end of the bed, stepping off once she got there.

She whispered a thank you as she took her phone. She noticed that Steve, Javier, and Theo had tried calling her.

She calls Theo, and once he answered asked, “What the hell happen?”

“It’s a shitshow boss. Escobar surrendered but his terms are laughable. He built his own prison and DEA can do fuck all about it. But now, the embassy is under a microscope. All staff must report in to discuss the new changes. You are wanted by 1pm boss,” Theo said rushed.

“Shit. Umm. Okay. Its 9:30? Okay, I can be there by 1. I’ll see ya then,” She answered hanging up and rushing into her bedroom.

She grabbed some black slacks, and a silk blouse from the closet, tossing them and some heels onto the bed, while she raced to get herself ready. She didn’t have time to get a shower in, so she cleaned her face, threw on a dash of makeup and healthy amount of deodorant/perfume.

She threw her hair into a slightly messy bun and tossed the shirt she was wearing to the floor. She grabbed a bra and got dressed in minutes. She tossed her FBI badge around her neck, made sure her IDs were in her messenger bag, and after securing her gun into its holster, slipped it onto her hip.

She jumped into her shoes, grabbing her bag and phone, moving quickly downstairs.

“Alvaro? Please tell your brother I will be in Bogota for the day!” She called out as she passed him.

She saw Salcedo and a few others getting into a car.

“Hey, Salcedo! Mind if I bum a ride to the airport with you guys?” She asked as she caught up to them.

Salcedo replied, “Of course. Get in.”

She hopped in, taking a seat next to Navegante. They took her to the airport, making small talk.

Two hours later, and she was standing in front of the American Embassy. She made her way inside, stopping briefly to check on her team, since they were all assembled in their water closet sized office.

Her team gave her a stack of files to go through, and a few reports she needed to sign off.

She took them with her as she walked into the conference room that was crowded with members from every department.

When she stepped in, the attention turned to her.

Her director commented, “Nice to see you finally join us Agent Lage.”

She went to apologize but a random agent, one from CIA felt the need to mutter loudly, “Too busy whoring around I’d bet.”

Her eyes narrowed, and a tight smile formed on her face, ignoring the chuckles.

“I’m sorry if I am a bit late director. I was informed of a death in my family last night,” She spoke plainly.

The director looked at her with sympathy, and said, “My condolences. Please be sure to stay the full meeting. Many things are to be discussed.”

She nodded her head and turned her gaze to the man who spoke before, “I’m sorry. Were you trying to say something earlier? Couldn’t quite hear you over your mumbling? If you have something to say, say it to my face like a man. That way at least when I knock you on your ass, you can have some dignity.”

She smiled somewhat viciously when he turned red and backed away into the crowd.

She moved toward Javier and Steve who were leaning against the wall, waiting.

A few minutes passed, before the room began to clear out. Soon it was just 2 members of each department. When they all took their seats, they were informed that Ambassador Noonan has retired.

“I am to be your new ambassador and things are going to change around here,” Arthur Crosby spoke firmly.

He laid out the new guidelines, especially for the DEA. He told them that everyone will be setting up in Medellin in a new office.

He eventually turned his attention to her and Theo.

“I want the both of you to bring me up to speed about these museum robberies,” He demanded looking at them expectantly.

“Our suspect is Augustus König. He’s wanted around the world for numerous robberies. We have narrowed down a list of potential warehouses that he may be using to hideout, and store everything he’s stolen. As far as we are aware, he hasn’t sold any of the items,” Blix began speaking.

“… and… He knows who I am. We ran into each other the other day. I don’t think he’s aware of the other members of my team, but he made me well aware that he doesn’t fear law enforcement,” She concluded hesitantly.

Theo looked at her surprised.

Stechner snorted, “Hm. Was that… before or after your little trip to Medellin the other day?”

She looked at him and asked, “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“Hmm. No, just find it interesting that both you and the Cali Cartel were seen in Medellin around the same time,” He said with feigned innocence.

“Are you having me followed?” She accused her face hardening. “Ambassador, I apologize but this is something I would like addressed. Seeing as how, my lovely… coworkers here… had no qualms about leaking my dossier to said cartel, and your predecessor knew about it.”

Crosby raised his hand to stop Stechner from speaking, “Listen, all of you. The priority is the Medellin cartel and the Communists. No more spying on other agencies, if there is not a valid concern. No more arguments. No more fights.”

He stared pointedly at Blix when he said the last line.

“Now, if this König is indeed aware of you Agent Lage, then I would hope you are taking the necessary precautions to make sure this doesn’t blow up in our face. The Colombians would have a field day if they learned we were the reason for millions of dollars of priceless art was lost forever because of a minor mistake,” Crosby returned to the subject at hand, subtly warning her to not mess up.

She nodded her head in affirmation. They spoke more next steps, and toward the end her phone began to go off.

She winced and quietly answered it, “Hello?”

“Miss Lage? This is Alan Starkman, Pacho called me to look over your will?” Came a male voice.

“Oh. Um. Do you mind if I call you back in about 10 minutes, I am in the middle of a meeting?” She requested trying to end the phone call quickly.

“Sure,” He replied before hanging up.

She rolls her eyes and puts her phone back into her pocket. “Sorry. Lawyer.”

They finished up the meeting without further interruptions and as she stepped out, she turned to the ambassador.

“Uh. Sir. Just a quick note, I am having to deal with some nonsense regarding my mother’s will, and I may have to make a trip to Georgia to fix things,” She spoke quietly.

“Do what you need to do. You have my condolences as well,” He remarked making his way to his office.

She nodded her in appreciation but was internally grimacing.

She quickly called the lawyer back, who was quick to inform her that many things were off. He has it set for them to meet with Whit Jacobson at 1pm tomorrow in Georgia, with her sisters.

She thanked him for his help and said she’d meet him tomorrow at the airport.

Once that was done, she sighed heavily. This was not how she expected her day to go.

She worked on the files she had at hand, finishing them up in an hour, when Javier appeared at her desk.

“You finish?” He quietly asked.

She nodded her head, he told her to come with him.

She does so, following him to his truck. They drove for a while before pulling up to a familiar home, where the car out front was packed full of suitcases.

“Horacio has been reassigned. Figured you’d want to say goodbye before he’s shipped to Spain,” Javier tells her.

She kissed his cheek in thanks and stepped out. She walked up to the door, knocking on the frame, and calling out “Anyone home?”

She hears two sets of feet running toward her and was almost knocked off her feet when two small bodies ran into her.

“Ah! My favorites! How are you my loves?” She exclaimed picking them both up in her arms and waddling with them into the living room.

They tell her they were sad that they had to leave. “Oh, I’m very sad too. I may have to steal you and take you to Cali with me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Julianna remarked as she walked over. “I might let you.”

Blix laughed as she put them down, giving Julianna a hug in greeting.

“He’s out back,” Julianna tells her nodding her head toward the backyard.

Blix slowly made her way to him outside. He was staring off into the distance, hands in his pockets.

“Hey old man,” She greeted, lightly teasing him.

He turned around to face, a small smile on his face. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. He returns it muttering, “Hey, brat.”

She hugged him for a solid minute, not really wanting to let go, but she didn’t want to make it weird.

She pulled away with a sigh, asking in disbelief, “They’re really reassigning you to Spain?”

He nodded his head, and opened his mouth to respond when he stopped, moving his hand to tilt her chin up. He examined her face with a frown.

“Have you been crying, little fox?” He asked concerned.

“I found out my mother died… and I have to go back home to Georgia to fix some bullshit concerning her will,” She muttered quietly, breaking her gaze with his.

He sighed softly, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. He was one of the few people she had confided in about what had happened to her when she was young. In that moment, she looked so small and though she did her best to hide it, he could tell she was scared.

“What do you need me to do? Need me to go with you tomorrow? I’ve been told I can be quite intimidating,” He offered her.

“You’ve been told huh?” She repeated with a teasing smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but… this is something I need to face alone. You always said that my past will try to catch up to me. Well. It has,” She denied his offer with a shake of her head.

“Doesn’t mean you should go through it alone. I know we butted heads a lot in the beginning, but you’ve become a kid sister to me. If you need me, you can always call me. Day or night,” Horacio informed her sweetly.

She felt her nose twinge and lip tremble, as she tried to not cry in front of him. She couldn’t quite speak, so she just simply threw her arms around him in another hug. He chuckled quietly and hugged her back.

She stepped back after a moment, sniffling softly, trying to calm herself.

“I’ll miss you,” She whispered.

He threw an arm around her shoulder, mumbling into her hair that he would miss her as well, as they walked back inside.

She said her goodbyes to everyone and made her way back to Javier in his truck. Javier drove her to his apartment after that, and she sat somewhat numbly on his couch as he made lunch.

A sandwich and some chips were presented to her, and she took it with a soft ‘thank you.’

He sat next to her, throwing on some tv, a movie of some sorts. The two of them quietly ate, setting their plates on the coffee table once they were both done. She was vaguely aware that he had on Star Wars.

She slowly rested her head against his shoulder, he held her hand in response. She quietly told him what was going on with her family. He was quiet the entire time, listening to her. When she was finished, he didn’t react at first. He surprised her when he suddenly pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He held her close, and that’s how they sat for most of the day.

When evening rolled around, she made a few phone calls that she needed to do before tomorrow. When it came around time to go to bed, she collapsed on top of him once he was laying down on the bed.

“At some point… I do want to talk about you... about… that phone call I made… a while back. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night. I do…think about us… Probably more often than I should, given I was the asshole who called it off,” Javier voice spoke out into the darkness.

“…I think about it too… but maybe for now… it’s a good thing we are not together. We both have very different priorities when it comes to our jobs. Maybe… in the future we could talk about this more in detail,” She requested politely, even though in her head, she didn’t know if a future with Javier would happen. Not with the feelings she had for Pacho.

He nodded his head, “Yeah. This whole thing with Escobar… is… draining. I’d rather you didn’t witness any of the fallout. As ridiculous as it sounds, you’re safer in Cali.”

She thought in her head, ‘Yeah. Especially when I’m dating a Gentleman.’

They fell asleep and the next morning, she slipped out. Getting dressed in what she wore yesterday, before heading out to the airport. She met with the lawyer, an older man who was a bit on thicker side. He gave her a bag of clothes to change into, before they hopped into one of the cartels personal planes.

She made her way toward the bathroom, relieved to see there was a small shower. She cleaned herself off before looking into the bag that she was handed. As she changed, she noted that Pacho was probably the one who picked out the outfit. It was a black button-down silk shirt, with black pencil skirt that went past her knees, with a matching pair of black pumps.

She walked out feeling fresh as their flight made its course. The trip took 5hrs and soon they had landed. She grimaced with disdain at the humidity and the heat. They got into a car and made their way to Willow’s Creek, Georgia.

She made some calls on her way there and as they parked outside the courthouse, after driving into town, she let her lawyer walk in first to finish up her calls.

Minutes later, she was walking, and stopped just next to the conference room where she could Jacobson complaining that he was being scammed and what an outrage this was.

“Indeed, Whit… what an outrage?” She mocked stepping inside.

She momentarily froze when she saw her sisters, whose faces all lit up as they took her in.

“This,” She set her copy of the will down before them. “Was what he sent me. And just glancing at the original, you see that I was given forged document.”

Darla, was the first to move, taking the will into her hands and looking at with growing outrage.

“What the hell is this Whit?” Came her voice, deeper than she remembered, but with a hint of sultry.

“Whit… here. You what? Thought I was an idiot? That I would sign this blindly? Hmm?” She questioned, turning her attention to him, as he nervously stuttered.

“It’s a shame… especially when,” She pulled out her badge presenting it to him. “I’m a federal agent. It’s a bigger shame that… I had to cash in a couple of favors with the White-Collar division. Because if you were willing to screw me over…. How many other families did you do this to?”

Behind her, in the office, several agents had begun to enter and were seizing everything.

“I would nev-” Whit began to deny.

“Uh huh. It’s interesting that a man who barely makes 30k a year is able to afford a Porsche and the house you own… Are you really going to keep denying this?” Blix smiled victoriously.

An agent came in serving a warrant, arresting him. She waved goodbye as he passed her.

“Is this the original?” She asked turning around to face her sisters who looked at her in shock.

Lily nodded her head. Blix grabbed her pen from her bag and quickly signed the will with a sigh.

When it was done, she looked at Starkman and requested, “You’ll get me a copy of this, yeah?”

He nodded his with a smug smile, “There are some assets that do need to be discussed. Ladies?”

Blix reluctantly sat down across from them, and said, “Shoot.”

Lily spoke first, “Well. Um. We all discussed that the ranch and everything should go to you. You loved it the most, it’s only right it goes to you.”

Lily slid a small envelope that had a set of keys inside.

Blix smiled smally, taking them.

“The house. Um. None of us want it and I doubt that you do either,” Darla took over pausing to see Blix shake her head ‘no.’ “So, we are dividing everything among us, and selling off/throwing away furniture we don’t want. The grand piano is yours.”

“Along with all the books in the library,” Chimed in Hope, her voice bright and cheery.

“The last sort of major items are the cars. The Morgan, the Convertible, and the Mustang,” Lily ended.

Blix thought for a moment before stating, “Well. Darla should get the Morgan. It was always your favorite. Plus, you were the only who learned how to drive stick.”

They all chuckled a little at that.

“Then… the ‘stang and convertible should go to either of you. I don’t need a car, have plenty,” She said looking at Lily and Hope.

They both nodded, Darla then stated, “That’s all of the major items, like we said, we’re just going to divide everything evenly. We did, however, find one thing, that you should have now.”

Lily giggled as she pulled out a small pink bomber jacket, that had the words “Pink Lady” on it.

“Good lord where did you find that?” Blix asked mildly horrified as she took it.

“One of the boxes in the attic, we all found ours, so we hoped that you would come and get yours. Maybe give it to any little ones you wind up having?” Hope explained somewhat shyly.

Blix smiled at it and whispered a soft ‘thank you,’ before folding it gently and putting it in her bag.

“If that’s everything, I need to be going soon. Work waits for no one,” Blix noted standing up.

“Uhh. Just… one last thing… you… you wouldn’t happen to know what happened to mom’s little black book, do you? People… keep trying to claim that she owed them stuff from years ago,” Lily asked worriedly.

Blix paused at the door, sighing. She turned to them and said, “I have it. I’ll fax over a copy I made for you guys.”

She then grabbed a scrap piece of paper from her bag and put down her numbers on it.

“You can uh… call me on either of the first 2 numbers. The third is my fax. I’ll be sure to get that info to you guys, asap,” She said, pushing the paper to them, and walking out.

Her hands shook as she threw on her sunglasses, just before she made it to the door. She wasn’t sure how to react with everything. She stepped outside and made it halfway down the stairs when she saw a peculiar sight.

“Pacho,” She said, drinking in his form as he leaned against a motorcycle, looking every bit the bad boy persona.

She strolled over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, under his leather jacket.

“What are you doing here honey?” She asked with a smile.

“Checking up on my girl. How are you?” He wondered looking her over.

“Better now that you’re here,” She replied sweetly, giving him a kiss.

He kissed back and told her, “I came to steal you away for a few days. I have some business down in Florida I need to take care of. I figured you and I could have some much needed alone time.”

She smiled at that and started to answer when she heard someone clear their throat. She turned around and spotted her sisters standing, looking at the two of them curiously.

“Pacho. These are my sisters. Lily, Hope, and Darla. Guys, this is Pacho, my boyfriend,” She introduced quickly.

Pacho smiled charmingly and said hello to them with a small wave.

Lily was the first to react, throwing her hands around Blix, pulling her into a tight hug.

Blix was not expecting, giving a small “Oof!”

Hope and Darla joined in and were hugging her as well.

Pacho smiled as he noted that Blix was trying and failing to not cry. Staring at her sisters, he noted their caramel blonde hairs, and blue-green eyes. Seeing them together, he realized, if Blix had been blonde, it would’ve been difficult to distinguish who was who.

They said their goodbyes and promised to call each other.

Blix wiped her eyes, returning to Pacho’s embrace.

“So. How exactly do you expect me to ride comfortably on this thing in this skirt?” She asked with a laugh.

“The skirt shortens,” He tells her with a smirk.

She looked down at it and spotted that just above the knee was flap that perfectly covered the zipper. She unzips it without care, stepping out of it, and tossing the fabric into her bag.

It was still a bit tight but gave her legs more mobility. She moved to straddle the bike but stopped.

“Can we… make one quick pitstop before we go to the airport?” She pleaded.

He nodded his head, and she directed them to a place that was about half a mile away from town.

As he pulled up, she took in the crumbling barn in the distance, and the house that had seen better days.

“This is your grandparents place, yes?” He confirmed as they stopped.

She nodded her head, “My sisters gave it to me.”

Blix walked toward the house, hesitantly. She looked all around, remembering how beautiful it once was. It saddened her to see it in the state it was in.

She pulled out the key, and gently opened the door, brushing away cobwebs that had formed near the entrance.

The inside of it still looked the way it did when she was child, just dusty. There was only one thing she wanted from inside. A photo. It sat on the mantle, just above the fireplace. She brushed off the layer of dust that had built onto it, revealing her as a child, with a large black stallion.

She picked it up, brushing it off as best as she could, as she made her way back outside. She locked the door behind her, and then gazed fondly at the frame in her hands.

She moved back to Pacho, and shyly showed him the photo. He smiled as he stared at it.

“Aww. Look at you. So cute. Was this your horse?” He asked teasing lightly.

“Yeah. His name was Zeus. I was the only he would let ride him. He was very... peculiar. I found out later on, that they rescued him when he was a foal, and he had been starved. I’m pretty sure he uh. He knew. Kindred spirits and all,” She explained softly.

“What happened to him?” Pacho inquired curiously.

“He was sold. He uhh. Went to a farm where he became a racehorse and had many babies. He died about 5 years ago? I think? He was 20,” She stated as she gently placed the frame into her bag.

Pacho stared at her and mentioned, “You looked very happy in that photo. Now I see why my ranch made brought you such joy.”

She simply gave him a kiss and got back onto the bike with him. They rode away, Blix feeling lighter and more relaxed than she’s felt in a long time.

They drove to the airport, hopped onto a plane, greeting Navegante. It wasn’t long before they landed in Florida and made their way to a small, nondescript motel.

The plans discussed were about getting rid of the Lion and taking over Escobar’s market here in Florida. It took about 3 days to get the assets under Cali’s control, and watching Pacho work his charm was a sight to behold. In their free time, he wooed her, taking her to museums and parks. At night they spent tangled up each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another.

When the work was done, and they packed up their stuff, they had but one last thing to do. They invited Lion to their motel, where Navegante make quick work of him. Blix didn’t bother asking what he did with the body; some things are better left unknown.

That day they returned to Cali, and it was as she walked inside Pacho’s home, she realized, that this was becoming more of a home to her than her own place. Especially when she walked in to see Gilberto and Miguel standing there, waiting to welcome the both of them home.

Gilberto gave her a huge hug that she wasn’t expecting but accepted it. Her attention was directed to the side where a large pile of boxes laid and behind all of it, sat a grand piano. It was mahogany wood, in a Victorian style.

She wandered over it, gently lifting the cover over the keys. She looked at it and played a few notes. She noticed quickly that the keys needed to be tuned, as the tones were offkey as they played.

She ran her hand softly over the wood, noting the smalls scuffs that she knew needed to be worked out.

“Wouldn’t happen to know anyone who can tune a piano do you?” She asked them over her shoulder.

“No, but we could find one pretty easy,” Miguel offered with a chuckle.

“These got here fast? Is Starkman trying to impress me or something?” Blix questioned staring at all of the boxes.

“Possibly. You are the Lady of Cali after all,” Gilberto said grandly, with a laugh.

She turned to look at him in surprise, “The Lady of Cali? When did I earn that title?”

“It’s what the other cartels referred to you as, after the party. Kind of stuck with everyone here,” Miguel explained, with half a shrug.

“You made quite the impression on everyone. You are well liked,” Gilberto said proudly.

She smiled looking at the boxes. Most were notated as books and then one was marked “Blix’s Room.” She reached over into Pacho’s pocket, grabbing the pocketknife she knew he carried, to open it.

She held the knife, trying to control the shakiness she felt as she cut open the tape. A moment later, she set the knife down, and pulled the flaps open. Inside she could see several trophies, and a couple of small knickknacks. But the thing that caught her eye the most was the large, dark brown teddy bear.

She bit her lip as she reached in and pulled him out. She stared at him for a minute, memories flickering through her mind. When she first got him, the comfort he brought, leaving him behind when she ran away.

She slowly set him back inside, shaking her head.

“Umm. I’m not quite sure what to do with all of this?” She wondered turning her gaze to Pacho.

“We’ll figure it out. C’mon. Let’s go eat,” He suggested, holding his hand out to her.

She takes it, holding onto it tightly as they made their way to the table to eat.

Elsewhere, in La Catedral, Escobar was concocting a plan. Blackie had come to him with some interesting developments.

He wanted to get back at the Cali Cartel, but he had to get rid of their little federal agent. Not permanently but distracted. Away from them for a time.

He made a call to Valeria and slid the information to her.

“Sorry, Miss Lage, but this is too good to pass up,” He murmured to himself looking down at the file.

Back with Blix, she was listening to Gilberto tell a story about Pacho from when he first began, trying not to laugh at it.

Halfway through the story, Diego came in, and he looked distraught.

“Diego? What’s up?” She asked him concerned.

Diego didn’t speak, just turned on the TV that was setting in the dining room. He switched it to the channel where Valeria Vasquez was reporting.

“And in other news, I have just received info from an anonymous source. Scandalous information about a US Senator,” Valeria teased, her eyes bright.

Blix froze, sitting up straight.

“US Senator Alexander Danvers had quite the illustrious affair about 30 years ago. Now, you are probably wondering… Valeria? What does that have to do with us? Well. That affair led to a bastard child. Federal Agent Blix Lage of the FBI…. Whose stationed here in Colombia,” Valeria reported.

Blix stood up suddenly, pacing back and forth.

“I’m going to kill him. That bastard. That fucking bastard. To hell with the DEA, to hell with extradition. I’m going to murder him. Him and that bitch,” She muttered angrily, as she paced.

“Honey? Kill who?” Pacho asked, stepping into her path, trying to get her to focus and calm down.

“Escobar! OBVIOUSLY! ‘An ANONYMOUS source?’ When EVERYONE knows she’s whore herself out to that man for any information to BOOST her career!” She exclaimed, furious.

“Can this week get ANY worse?” She murmured defeated, resting her head against his chest.

She heard her phone ring and she groaned loudly as she looked at the ID.

“Yes, Ambassador?” She greeted her voice strained.

“Get to Bogota. We apparently have a guest on their way here. This story has been running for the past hour and has made its way to US media. This is a scandal we did not need Miss Lage,” Crosby informed her.

“Yes sir. Right away,” She answered robotically hanging up.

“I have to go to Bogota. Again. Apparently… guests are making their way to the Embassy. Joy,” She relayed grimacing.

“Wait. Rewind a bit… Your father is a senator?” Miguel questioned confused.

“Unfortunately. Moved his way from small town mayor, to governor of Georgia, to US Senator. My half-brother is currently running for governor himself,” She explained dully.

Gilberto and Miguel looked at her surprised.

“Don’t get excited. That man hasn’t acknowledged my existence once. Doubt my dear lil brother even knows I exist,” She stated, cutting off any ideas that may be forming.

“When I come back from this train wreck encounter, we are going to sleep… for 5 weeks,” She said to Pacho, exhausted.

He pulls her to him, pressing kisses to her face, whispering, “Sounds like a plan.”

She went upstairs, packing a bag for a few nights, planning to stay at a hotel. She angrily threw in some clothes, slowly stopping. She closed her eyes, wishing that this was just some terrible nightmare. She collapsed to her knees, the stress of the past week hitting her hard.

She found herself crying into her hands, as silently as she could. She knew one day her past would catch up to her. She just didn’t think it would happen all at once. She was tired. She was tired of pretending she was okay. So, in the silence of her room, she cried.

Pacho made his way upstairs to check on her and stopped when he heard her sobs. He let her cry for a moment before he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. He gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed to lay her upon it. Once she was on the bed, he curled up next to her, softly wiping away the tears that had formed.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked in a whisper.

She shook her head, “No. The media will probably be all over me for a day or so. Don’t want the world to find out I’m also dating a cartel member.”

He nodded once, before assuring her, “I’m here if you need me. I’ll hop on a plane to you. Just say the word. If not, I’ll be here waiting for you to return to me.”

She smiled, sniffling as she tried wiping her face off to clear more tears.

“Regretting being with someone who has so much baggage yet?” She asked in a self-deprecating tone.

“No. Quite the opposite really. I’m quite in love with my Lady of Cali,” He confessed looking her in the eyes.

She felt her breath catch at that admission, and she could feel her heart swell with emotion.

“Pacho… I only just stopped crying and now you’re going to make me cry some more?” She inquired feeling tears in her eyes again.

“Are they happy tears?” He lightly questioned.

“Yes. They are. Especially when… I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you too,” She admitted kissing him.

“Good to know. Now, get to Bogota. Deal with your shit father. Come home to me and I’ll make sure you won’t be leaving my bed for hours if not days,” He promised her.

She nodded her head agreeing, before sitting up and walking into the bathroom to clean herself up real quick. Once she was done with that, she finished packing and was off to Bogota. The brothers had paid for a hotel room for her, telling her to get whatever she wants.

So, when she checked she ordered a small sandwich and fries. It was late by the time she got in, and the ambassador called her again to tell her to be at the embassy at 8am sharp and that even the president of Colombia would be joining them.

She ate quietly, before falling into a fitful sleep. When she woke up the next day, she was not prepared to face whatever hell that was waiting for her.

She showered, got dressed, and 15 mins before 8am she was at the steps of the embassy. There were reporters and photographers everywhere. She sighed and stepped out, pushing past the crowd that was shouting questions at her.

“What’s it like to be the bastard child of a US Senator?” She hears Valeria ask her just as she was about to reach the top.

She stopped, annoyance racing through her entire being.

She turned sharply around to her, and threw back, “Valeria. What’s it like being such a mediocre reporter that you lie about your ‘anonymous sources’ when we all know who you get your info from?”

Her face fell and was filled with rage as several other reporters laughed then coughed.

“Tell Mr. Escobar I say hello,” She spat out, turning away from her and walking inside.

She made her way up to conference room, ignoring the stares and whispers that erupted all around her. She stepped inside, ignoring the 3 people who were sitting down. She greeted the president and the ambassador first. She slowly turned to look at the older gentleman that sat in the middle.

His hair was once a dark brunette that now has streaks of grey, his eyes were bright green. The woman besides him, was blonde and demure looking. The last man, as she turned her gaze to take him, was her age… and honestly, they looked like they could be twins.

“Hello senator,” She greeted somewhat dully.

She took her seat and waited for the ambassador to speak.

The ambassador informed her that they are unaware of what exactly the evidence was that tied her to the senator. As he spoke, senator Danvers cut in claiming this was all a lie, a scam. That he had no idea who I was.

His denials infuriated her.

She stood up suddenly and stared him in the eyes.

“Listen. I didn’t want this. I don’t care about you. But don’t you dare lie. You had an affair. You had me, then your son. You abandoned me without a second thought. Don’t you dare say that you have no idea who I am, when we,” she pointed to the younger man, “look like twins.”

He stopped and stared at her stunned.

“I lived with this knowledge since I was 10. Just ask your wife. She knew. She knew the whole time,” She informed glancing over at her. “In fact, she was the one who told me all about it.”

“Martha, what is she talking about?” He quietly asked her.

“Yes Martha. Tell him. Tell him how you hired me to help you work on your garden and how you told a 10-year-old that she was not only a bastard, but unwanted by both of her parents,” Blix stated bitterly.

Martha looked away, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Listen. I don’t want to start a fight or interrupt your life. I was quite content in you not being in my life. I get it. My mother… she was a leech. I understand why you left her… but you left me too. And my mother made sure… to let me know that I was not wanted,” She admitted, motioning to the scars on her face.

“I have spent the past 30 years without you. I can live the next 30 or so without you. Go back home. I don’t want you in my life,” She concluded firmly.

She stepped out of the conference room and made her way downstairs to the DEA department. She spotted Steve but no Javier, so she stole his seat.

She collapsed and sat rather lazily in the chair, slumped.

“Rough day?” Steve asked taking in her posture.

“Rough week. My psychotic mother passed, had to reconnect with my sisters, dealt with some bullshit over the will which led to an arrest for white collar, someone figured out who my father is, and he and his family are upstairs trying to deny everything,” She summarized.

“Can I hide here for a time?” She asked glancing over at him.

“Sure, if you help go through these transcripts,” Steve bargained holding a stack of papers.

“Deal,” She replied taking the stack.

She sat with him for an hour, going through transcripts and helping him find any leads.

Javier eventually appeared, raising an eyebrow at her in his chair. He pulled up another chair next to her, taking half of her remaining stack. She smiled at him, as he teasingly nudged her with his elbow. They quietly worked until Theo appeared.

“Hey boss, sorry to interrupt. Um. There’s someone asking for you upstairs?” Theo tells her.

She nodded her head, finishing the sentence she was on before standing up. She ruffled Javier’s hair with her hand and reached over to do the same to Steve.

“Bye guys. Good luck,” She said, following Theo.

Theo glanced at her a few times, when they stepped into the elevator.

“Please don’t ask,” She quietly pleaded.

“Ask what?” Theo asked acting confused.

She smiled appreciatively at him. When they got up to their floor, she paused when she sees her half-brother standing by their offices.

She made her way to him cautiously.

When she was finally before him, she greeted, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Came his voice, slightly raspy. “Can… can we talk?”

She nodded and led him to her office. “I’m sorry it’s kind of small.”

Her office barely had room for the 2 chairs and desk. He waved it off.

“So. I… I gotta say… I don’t know how to start this. Um. But I guess. The beginning is best? I’m Ajax. 30. Sagittarius. Hoping to be Governor when I grow up. And would love to get to know my older sister, if she’d let me?” He introduced, rubbing the back of his neck.

Blix smiled awkwardly, and followed suit, “Blix. 30. Scorpio. FBI agent, lead investigator of the art crimes division here in Colombia. And…I would love to know about my little brother too.”

She laughed when she realized after a moment, she was doing the same neck rub he did.

“We… have the same fidget behaviors,” She muttered.

“I hear you’re a fighter and a damn good one,” Ajax complimented.

“I hear you have a really good shot at being Governor. If I was in Georgia, I may have to vote for you,” She said to him.

“Listen. My mom…I’m sorry she made you feel that way when you were younger. My… Our dad will come around eventually. He just… was shocked to say the least,” Ajax apologized.

“Mh.” She was doubtful but didn’t say much to disagree.

They talked a few more minutes and exchanged numbers to keep in contact.

She had to have few more talks with the ambassador and president for the next three days to assure that this was not going to affect her job. Once she was finally free, she made her way back to Cali on a late flight.

When she landed, she was greeted by Diego who was waiting for her.

“Honestly, I’ve never been happier to see you. Would it be weird if I hugged you?” Blix politely asked as she stood in front of him.

Diego smirked and held his arms open to her. She hugged him, feeling relieved. They get into the car and started to drive. About halfway there she noticed something was off.

“Why are you being so quiet? What happened?” Blix questioned looking at him concerned.

“He didn’t want me to tell you… but you should know. There was an attempt against Pacho… Yesterday. Escobar’s men tried to kill him while he was playing soccer,” Diego explained not looking at her.

“But he’s okay, right?” She was worried.

“Yes. Shaken up. But fine,” He assured her.

She let that information sink in. She knew it was only a matter of time before an incident like this happened. She wasn’t quite sure what her reaction was going to be when she sees Pacho. She did know that Escobar had no idea who he was dealing with.

#pacho herrera x oc #narcos #pacho herrera

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eddieismypimp · 4 years

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Shouldn’t have done that.

Oscar x plus size black reader (gotta show love to my QUEENS)

Summary: Oscar and "Y/N" have been fighting all day, it gets a little out of hand and he buys you a puppy to make up for it.

Warnings: I NEVER KNOW HOW TO END THESE SHITS SO THE ENDINGS ARE ALWAYS STUPID. Cussing, little bit of violence, yelling, arm grabbing, if that freaks you out please please don't read this. Also, I hate writing shit about fighting because I come from trauma and I always take it to far because thats what I'm used to so I'm sorry lol <3

A/N PLEASE PLEASE READ: I DO NOT support any type of abuse IN THE SLIGHTEST BIT even arm grabbing but I put it in this story and I'm so sorry if any of you who reads this is going through abuse or anything like that. With everyone being quarantined and kids being at home with their parents, there's a possibility that they are in actual danger and it terrifies me and hurts my heart to even think about that. Please dont be afraid to ask someone for help if you're in that situation. You can text me anytime if you need a friend and we can just talk. I pray for the babies who are in bad situations right now. I love you all.

Y/N POV

"Just drop it y/n." Oscar said sitting at the kitchen table sipping his coffee. "What I decide for Cesar isn't your concern." Wow.... that shit HURTED. ''I know I haven't been around since the very beginning but that doesn't mean that I don't care about you and Cesar." I said. "That doesn't change the fact that you weren't the one that raised him since he was a little child." He said standing up and walking to the kithcen. I followed him, not ready to finish this conversation yet. He wasn't gonna win this time. He needed to see my point. "I had to give up EVERYTHING to make sure there was food on the table and he was taken care of." He said getting a little loud. "Baby, theres no need to get loud." I said. "I know you have given up a lot for Cesar and I think you're amazing for it.... but do you really think Cesar wants this life?" I asked. He didn't say anything. "I know you just want him to be protected but is this really the best way to go about it? Is there really no other way you can protect him without getting him involved in this shit?" I asked again. "It's not to late.. for either of you. I know you think it's to late for you but you can still get out baby you ca-." I was cut off by Oscar slamming his cup on the counter. I flinched and gasped. He turned around getting in your face. "Don't speak on shit you know nothing about." He said it calmly but I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. With that he walked away and I stood there dumbfounded.

-time skip-

It's been about an hour since Oscar and I had that argument and I've been sitting in the living room watching Coco. That movie always makes me feel so much better. Miguel is the cutest! I was singing along to Un Poco Loco when I seen Oscar walking towards the door. "Where you goin?" I asked him worried. He looked at me. "Cesar needs me." "I'm coming with you." I said getting up and turning off the t.v. I slid my Nike slides on and walked out behind him getting into the car.

-another time skip-

"Why is Cesar in Brentwood?" I asked looking at Oscar. "Him and his friends were trick or treating." He said not taking his eyes off the road. "Oh." Was all I said as I looked out the window. We finally pulled up to this house party and I seen Cesar standing in front of this white boy. We got out the car. "Oh so you think you're hard?" I heard the kid say. The fuck is goin on? He better not be comin at my little baby crazy! I thought to myself. "No... but he is." Cesar said pointing at Oscar. Oscar walked up on the boy with me right behind him. Ope- this kids in for it now. The kid looked at me. Oh Christ. I internally rolled my eyes. "Well.. look at you. Aren't you beautiful." He said which disgusted me to my SOUL. I had an idea though. I faked a smile and pushed past Oscar. "Thank you." I said caressing his face. "You're not to bad yourself." Which was an absolute lie. The kid looked ROUGH. He also had a fake tear drop tattoo and it was very obvious he was trying to look like a cholo. I was gonna end it there knowing Oscar was already jealous as shit and we would have some bomb ass makeup sex later but when I turned around, I felt a hard slap on my ass. "Yo what the fuck!?" I said turning around and slapping the kid in the face. Before anyone could say or do anything else, Oscar gently pushed me outta the way and grabbed the kid by his shirt. "Aye, don't touch my girl homie!" Oscar got all up in his face. "I'm sorry man, she came onto me." The kid said clearly terrified. Oscar saw the fake tear drop and got noticeably more angry. If that was even possible. He licked his thumb and wiped it off the kids face. Then wiped his own tattoo, which didn't come off. "This shits real." He said. "Please, what do you want?" The kid asked with tears in his eyes. I laughed a little to myself. Who's tough now, pussy? Oscar let go of his shirt and tilted his head at Cesar telling him to come over. As Cesar was telling the kid what he wanted, Oscar turned towards me grabbing my arm and leading me to the car. I got in and he did too shortly after. We waited in silence for Cesar. Him and Monse walked up to the car and I got out to let them in. Once they were in you sat back down. "How is everyone else getting home?" I asked looking at Cesar. I can't help it, I worry about everything. "Ruby's abuelita is taking them." He said. "Oh okay." I said facing the front less worried. Oscar started driving as we all sat in silence. It got a little to quiet so I grabbed the aux cord and started playing my favorite song. I knew Cesar and Monse liked the song to because they were in the back straight vibin. I was playing the song get back by pop smoke. (r.i.p papi) That song was a straight bop. Oscar showed no emotion though. He just sat there in silence. focusing on the road. I gave a slight frown thinking my plan didn't work but put my focus back on the song.

-time skip-

It was like that the rest of the car ride. Me playing bomb ass music while me, cesar and monse jammed out and oscar just sitting there with literally no emotion. We finally got to Monse's house and I let her and Cesar out. Cesar was gonna stay at her place tonight since her dad was out of town. Which actually worked out perfectly, now me and Oscar will have the whole house to ourselves. I internally smirked thinking about what could go down tonight. I was excited. We finally pulled into the driveway of our house. Oscar got out without saying anything and went straight to the door to unlock it. What the fuck? I thought. I got out and walked in the house. "Oscar, what's the matter?" I asked wrapping my arms around him from behind. "You haven't said anything since we left Brentwood." "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asked coldly. That threw me off and I backed up a little as he turned around to look at me. "What?" I asked genuinely confused. "You think you can just pull that shit and I won't get pissed?" He asked. I started giggling realizing that my plan did work. "So you think the shit is funny now?" He raised his voice stepping all up on me. My smile left my face quick as shit. "Wh- no.. I-" I was cut off by Oscar grabbing my arms pretty harshly. I gasped. "Why you out here actin like a whore?" He asked, his voice still raised like I wasn't right in front of him. "Oscar, you're hurting me." I said. I was kinda shook right now because I didn't think he would get mad enough to actually hurt me. "I don't give a fuck." He said tightening his grip. I had tears in my eyes now, this is starting to scare me a little. "You're supposed to be my girl... not touchin up on some fools right in front of me." He said, still not letting go. "Oscar, I only did that to get your attention. I didn't think you'd for real get mad." I said struggling to get my arms out of his grip. His eyes softened a little and he finally let go. I rubbed my wrists backing up. "Mama... I'm so sorry..." He said trying to pull me into a hug but I backed away. I looked at him for a moment before turning around and walking to our shared bedroom locking the door and falling on the bed crying. A few moments later I heard the front door close and the car start.

Oscars POV

Why did I let it get to me like that..? I love y/n with my whole heart. Why would I ever hurt her? "What the fuck do I do?" I asked myself. I parked my car in a park so I can think of ways to make it up to my little baby. "Okay Oscar.. think... Something that will make her happy..." I finally got it. A fucking puppy. She's been asking me for one for like two months now. I only knew one pet shop that was open this late so I started my car and drove there.

-time skip-

I got there and I looked for about 20 mintues before I found the perfect one.I picked him up and brought him to the worker. "This is the one I want." I said. "Okay," She said taking him from me. "I'm gonna have you pick out a collar, a leash, dog food, and food bowls for him." The lady said. I nodded my head going to pick the shit out. I got all the stuff and went to the counter. She rang up all my shit and then gave me some papers to sign. "What do you want to name him?" She asked me. I had to think for a minute. What's a name y/n would pick...? Oh wait.. I can name him Miguel. Her little ass loves Coco and thats her favorite character. I told the lady what I wanted to name him and she wrote it down somewhere on the paper I just filled out. She bagged up my stuff and handed me Miguel. "Have a nice night!" She said smiling. "Thank you, you too." I took all my stuff and walked out to my car.

She's gonna love him. I thought. I put all the stuff in the backseat and got him settled in the front seat. I took a picture of him for memories. Then I started driving home.

-time skip-

Still Oscar's POV

I finally got home. I stayed in the car for a minute trying to figure out the right words to say. I hope I can fix this. I love her so much. I took a deep breath and got out of the car. I grabbed the bags from the back seat and then grabbed the puppy. I opened the front door as quietly as I possibly could. The lights in the living room and kitchen were on and so was the t.v. Of course she's watching Coco. I didn't see her on the couch tho. Shes probably in the kitchen. I sneakily walked over to the couch and sat everything down including the puppy. I walked toward the kitchen to see if she was in there but she wasn't there either. Right when I was about to walk to our bedroom, she walked out of the bathom and we almost bumped into each other. She didn't say anything, and she tried to walk past me. "Wait, baby.." I said.

Y/n POV

I tried to walk past Oscar but he wouldn't let me. "Wait, baby.." He pleaded. "Please just listen." I sighed but decided to listen to what he had to say. "Okay Oscar." I said quietly. He let out a sigh of relief. "Baby, I am sorry." He said taking a step closer to me. I took a step back. Not because I was scared but because it was my natural instinct. He had a pained expression but he continued. "I love you and I don't know why I acted like that." I just sood there. "I would never hurt, and I'm sorry.. I took it way to far. It'll never happen again." I was staring at my feet but I could feel his eyes on me. "Please mami. Please forgive me." He pleaded. I couldn't stay mad at him for long. "Okay, Oscar. I forgive you." I said. "Oh thank God." He said pulling me into a hug. "I love you so much." He said kissing me all over my face. I giggled. "I love you too papi." I said smiling at him. "Come here boo, I got something for you." He said grabbing my hands and leading me into the living room. I was mad confused until I saw the most beautiful puppy I have ever seen. I gasped SO loud. "Oh my goooooood.... Oscar, is he mine?" I asked looking at Oscar. "Yes ma'am, all for you." He said smiling at me. I smiled back at him as I went to go pick up the puppy. "Awwwww,babe. I love him." I said cuddling the puppy. "Whats his name?" "I named him Miguel." He said proudly. I melted. "I love it boo. He's perfect." I started to tear up. "Aw baby, don't cry." Oscar said hugging me. Everything was quiet for a while until I heard Oscar sniffling. I looked up at him and he had tears in his eyes. "Babe.. what's wrong?" I asked worried. "I'm so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you like that ever. I know buying presents isn't gonna make up for it, but I just want you to know i'll never hurt you again." He said kissing my forehead. "You don't have to cry baby. We both did stuff we regret tonight. But it's okay, we can talk it out and work this out and become better than ever." I said, planting kisses all over his sweet little face. "This is why I love you." He said. The rest of the night, me, oscar and our new puppy cuddled and watched Coco.

#oscar diaz #on my block #on my block imagine #oscar diaz x reader #spooky x reader #spooky #on my block fanfiction #fanfiction #oscar spooky diaz #imagine #x reader

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brihana25 · 5 years

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In “Defense” of John Kreese

NOTE: Okay, here goes. I wrote this weeks ago, when I was still processing Season 2 (which, honestly, I’m still doing), and I wrote it in reaction to some of what I was seeing about Kreese in the wake of it. It’s long, so there’s a jump.

To say I was surprised to see the posts about Kreese would be an understatement. I meant and still mean no offense to anyone who expected more than we got, but it truly baffled me, because we got exactly what we were promised. I saw the betrayal coming from the last seconds of Mercy Part II, and I didn’t understand how other people didn’t.

So, this is me trying to explain why I felt and feel the way I do about Kreese. And for better or for worse, since I’m posting it, it’s open for discussion.

Wow. Talk about five words I never in a million years imagined I'd type.

I watched Season 2 of Cobra Kai within fifteen seconds of it dropping. Once I started, I didn't stop. I didn't pause. I was far from the only one. A little over five hours later, I'd seen the entire thing. I was devastated, of course. We all were. I intended to do an immediate rewatch, but I couldn't make myself do it. I was left reeling, numb, and completely emotionally drained for the rest of the day. Again, that's not unique to me. We all were. And even though I have rewatched it since then, more than once, that feeling hasn't really faded. I'm still having a hard time putting my thoughts and feelings into words. I know it's only a television show, but the impact it has had on me – on all of us – cannot really be explained. We're all shocked. We're all stunned. We're all feeling and dealing and still processing it.

If there is one word to sum up Season 2, it is this: brutal.

And no one was half as brutal as the man himself, the creator of Cobra Kai, the puppet master who holds everyone’s strings and pulls them to make them dance, knows every character's buttons and how to push them: John Kreese.

I know a lot of people are upset about Kreese still being bad. And not only is he bad, but he's possibly even more despicable and irredeemable than he was in the movies. I know a lot of people feel that they were lied to, or somehow misled, into believing he'd be a good guy by the end of the season.

I'm going to defend not only the pre-season interviews that may have led fans to believing that, but also the character of John Kreese himself. And those of you who know me and what I have said about this character in the past will understand what an odd thing this is for me to do. But one of the things I love most about this show, and about the movies that spawned it, are the characters and their development. That does include John Kreese, and it always has.

If you think back over what we were told about Kreese pre-season, no one ever said they were going to redeem him. The Big 3TM said they were going to make him human. They did. Martin Kove said he was "a little bit good, and a little bit bad." He is both.

First, to The Big 3TM's statements that either said or implied they were going to make him more human: they did. They made him much more human than he was in the movies; they just didn't make him a good one. Instead, he is devious, manipulative, abusive and cruel. And those are things that only humans can be.

He's always been a kind of caricature, a stock character "baddie" with memorable lines and no discernible motivations for being the way he was. The most human we saw him in the movies was at the beginning of The Karate Kid Part III. We see him walking down the street, alone, dejected. He is a broken man. He has lost everything and everyone, and he knows it. He has hit absolute rock bottom, and he does not know how to climb back up.

That doesn't last very long, of course. He walks into the dojo, glances at his bills, half-listens to his answering machine, picks up a newspaper article about Daniel's victory, and immediately, his dejection turns to anger. His desolation morphs into a singular obsession with destroying the old man who humiliated him and the child who dared to defeat him.

Terry's words to Daniel and Mr. Miyagi in the garden, about karate being Kreese's entire life, about losing his students (mostly Johnny, we now know) breaking his heart - I believe this was entirely true. It's probably one of the few honest things Terry said in the whole movie. It is also probably one of the purest descriptions of John Kreese’s motivation we have ever been given. There was a glimmer of hope at the beginning, in Kreese's conversation in the car with Terry, when it looked like maybe he wasn't wholly evil. But as we realized later, his protest to Terry that he didn't "need to do this" - didn't "need" to torture Daniel and Mr. Miyagi - was token only. He wanted it to happen. I'd go so far as to say that he played on Terry's love for and protectiveness of him to make it happen. That became obvious later in the movie, when he came up with the "brilliant" idea of making Daniel's knuckles bleed. And now that we have seen just how manipulative and calculating he can be, it fits with who and what he is.

Does he have PTSD? Certainly. He told Johnny as much when he said the psychiatrists wouldn't let him re-enlist. Does it stem from the Vietnam War? Again, there is very little doubt. Is he still fighting a war in his mind that never ended for him because he wasn't allowed to finish it? I don't question that for a second, either. Do any of those things excuse what he did - to children and adults both - after he returned? Absolutely not. Understanding his mind and seeing the world through his eyes gives us insight into why he is the way he is, but it doesn't excuse what he's done. And it doesn’t justify what he may do in the future.

Humans aren't always nice and decent. All people aren't basically good. Daniel learned that when he was sixteen years old. Johnny learned it at fifty-one. John Kreese is 100% human, and that's undeniable. They gave us exactly what they promised us.

As for Martin Kove's assertion that Kreese is "a little bit good, and a little bit bad": he is. This is where understanding his mind becomes vital. Kreese's "bad" qualities are on clear and open display for us to see. His "good" qualities aren't as obvious, and some would say they don't exist at all. That is because his definition of "good" is warped, and it doesn't fit with how we understand that word.

Also, I believe very strongly that John Kreese loves Johnny Lawrence.

No, it doesn't look anything like love to most of us. It looks like control, and domination, and manipulation. It looks like abuse. And that's because it is. It is dysfunctional, and destructive, and based on a power imbalance that Kreese cannot let shift in Johnny's favor for even a second. But in John Kreese's mind, it is love.

Make no mistake about it, Kreese abused both of these men when they were children. He abused Johnny - mentally and emotionally - for five years. Whether the karate training ever rose to the level of physical abuse is debatable, but after what we saw in Season 2, in Johnny's memory of receiving his blue belt, the rest of it is inarguable. The hardest concept to grasp, after watching just that one small memory and the impact it still has on Johnny almost 40 years later, is that Kreese honestly believed, and still does, that he was doing a good thing.

Listen to the things he says. Really listen to him. Even after everything that happens, even after Miguel and Robby, and Tory and Sam, and even after the destruction of everything and everyone Johnny loves, Kreese is still convinced that what he's doing is what's best for Johnny. He truly, honestly believes that he's helping him.

In his mind, he is making Johnny stronger. He is making him better. He is turning him into a good little soldier who will follow orders to the letter, because if he does what Kreese tells him, he will not and cannot lose. He is doing this because he doesn't want Johnny to feel the things he felt. He doesn't want Johnny to ever feel the sting of a defeat he had no choice but to accept. He sees in Johnny his chance to redeem himself for all the losses he himself has suffered, and he will use any means at his disposal to get him there.

His abuse of Daniel is strictly about punishment. He doesn't love him. He didn’t want to make him stronger. He didn’t want to turn him into a winner. His abuse of Daniel was purely for revenge. He smiled about it. He laughed about it. He wanted to see “a lot more” of it. He tortured a child, and he enjoyed it.

As much as John Kreese loves Johnny Lawrence, he hates Daniel LaRusso.

He hates him for forcing defeat on Johnny. He hates him for being a better student, or a better fighter, or a better anything than Johnny. He hates Mr. Miyagi for being a better teacher, or a better fighter, or just a better everything than him. Mr. Miyagi succeeded in turning Daniel into what Kreese failed in getting Johnny to be, and so Daniel - at the ripe old age of sixteen - gets the dubious distinction of being the living embodiment of both Johnny's and Kreese's failures. Kreese will never forgive him for any of that.

And so, Kreese (in conjunction with Terry Silver, of course) brainwashes him. They convince him to torture himself, and they torture Mr. Miyagi through him. They turn him into something he isn't and never has been. They turn him into the opposite of what Mr. Miyagi taught him to be. They send him home every night, bloody and bruised and completely oblivious to the fact that he's a nothing more than a pawn to them. He's a toy. If Johnny is Kreese's good little soldier, Daniel is his cannon fodder.

Kreese loves Johnny, and he hates Daniel, and he destroyed them both. But what has to be understood is that in his mind, everything he’s done have been "good" things.

To redeem Kreese now, to turn him into a "good guy," to have both of his victims forget and forgive him for everything he did, would not only be wholly unbelievable, it would invalidate everything they've been through. It would erase everything that turned the children they were into the men they are. It would cheapen and dismiss everything Kreese did to them.

It wouldn't just "flip the script" on their story. It would rewrite it wholesale.

At its heart, Cobra Kai is Johnny's and Daniel's story. Kreese plays a large part in that story, absolutely. But it’s not his. What they suffered at his hands shaped who and what they are, what they feel about each other, and what they believe about themselves. For better or worse, he is Cobra Kai.

He is their boogeyman.

And if the show is about Johnny and Daniel, then it has to be about them dealing with the impact Cobra Kai - and John Kreese - has had and continues to have on them and the people they love. For that to be possible, Kreese has to remain what he is and has always been.

A little bit good, and a whole lot bad.

#cobra kai #cobra kai season 2 #john kreese #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #i essayed a thing #fangirling again #meta ahoy!

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jaydcstories · 4 years

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Read this and other stories on my blog: JOHN DEE COOPER'S ALL-MALE SLAVERY STORIES

Chapter 4

Mamma mia! I’d led such a sheltered life!

I’d been fed so much propaganda at the orphanage, and seen so little of the outside world, that I had no idea how things really were under the Reich Marshalls’ rule. Of course we’d heard about forced labour — it was one of the building blocks of the new Reich and one of the reasons why I was so scared about being sent to a labour camp — but out-and-out slavery was something that belonged to comic books and adventure stories. It never crossed my mind that for almost two generations now it had become an ordinary fact of life across most of Europe and America.

So it’s no wonder I puzzled over the sight of those naked men in chains and made no immediate connection between them and us kids in our soiled clothes and manacles. If anything I was intrigued and a little aroused. They were all such superb specimens of male physique, with smooth bodies and big muscles, and I couldn’t help admiring the machine-like precision as they jogged past in perfect unison.

I quickly forgot about them though, once we were inside the warehouse, which was damp and cold and smelt of rotting wood.

We were still roped together as we were led along a dingy corridor with grubby walls and floorboards that creaked when we stepped on them. It was like walking into a nightmare.

At the far end of the corridor, two men were waiting for us by an open door.

“Some fine looking merchandise coming your way, Boronda,” said one of them, a tall lazy fellow chewing on a matchstick and eyeing us up as we shuffled along.

“Well I hope so,” said his friend, a fat bald-headed man with short arms and big sweaty hands.“Especially after the trouble I had with the last shipment.”

The tall fellow laughed and opened the door for us. We crept through nervously while he grinned at us and then said goodbye to his friend and left.

The fat man led us into another dusty corridor where what looked like a guard in uniform was sitting with his feet up on a window ledge, reading a newspaper.

“Working late, Seňor Boronda?” he said, folding his newspaper.

“Afraid so. I need to get these shipped out tonight,”— He was pointing at us! — “I’ll try not to detain you.”

The man in uniform, who had stony features and muscles that were clearly made of iron, was dressed in what I would soon come to recognise as the standard outfit of a Slave Keeper — black combat trousers and boots, a tight black tee-shirt and a black leather holster loaded with a taser gun, an electric prod, a set of handcuffs and a thick leather strap for beating slaves with. It is an image engraved on my mind for all eternity and fills me with a kind of terror even now when I think of it. Some Keepers wear black jackets over their tee-shirts, and some wear black berets, but they are all as tough as stone, with a special kind of swagger and an overwhelming air of menace that intimidates and in a weird kind of way excites — something to do, I suppose, with the mystical connection that exists between slaves and their Keepers.

In addition, this Keeper had a bull whip tucked into his belt.

Señor Boronda was hunting through a huge bunch of keys with his stubby fingers while the Slave Keeper glared at us as though he didn’t trust us one little bit and was itching to use the bull whip on us if he got half the chance.

At last Boronda found his key, unlocked a heavy metal door and led us into his own private processing chamber.

It was small and clammy. There weren’t any windows, the walls, ceiling and floor were covered in grubby white tiles and the overhead lighting buzzed and flickered. It looked and smelt like a public toilet. There was even a narrow raised area running along one side where the urinals would have gone. On the opposite wall was a large mirror and at the far end was what looked like a shower unit without any screens or curtains.

Señor Boronda told us to stand on the narrow raised area. It was only a couple of inches high but our feet were still roped together and our hands manacled behind our backs so it wasn’t that easy. We kept getting tied up in knots. “Miguel!” shouted the Señor. “Untie their legs.”

A door in the opposite wall swung open and a boy scampered out. He bowed to his Master and whispered “Sí, Amo.” He was about eighteen, slender but tough looking. All he had on was a coarse woven tunic tied at the waist with rope. His arms, legs and feet were bare.

I’d never seen anyone dressed like this before. He looked like he’d stepped out of a history book. There was something medieval, almost religious, about the way he stooped down and unravelled the rope from our legs.

“Now remove their gags.”

Again the bow of the head and the “Sí, Amo.”

Removing the gags was always going to be a difficult moment because none of us had been able to speak a word since we’d been captured. The floodgates were about to be opened.

He began with the boy at the end nearest the door, the tough one with the torn tee-shirt. As soon as the gag was off he spat and swore and launched into a tirade of abuse aimed directly at the Señor — who immediately went over and slapped him in the face. The boy snarled, and bit his lip but quietened down.

Next along, standing beside me, was the smart kid with the expensive clothes. When his gag came off, he launched into a speech he must have been rehearsing over and over in his head for hours.

“You’ve made a big mistake... my father is in the Policía... you have no right to keep me here... you’ll regret it if you don’t let me go...”

He got a slap as well. It shut him up for a second or two then, the idiot, he started up again.

“Put his gag back on,” growled Señor Boronda who had grabbed hold of a cane now and was swishing it about menacingly.

“Now listen to me, muchachos. You don’t speak. Not unless I tell you to. You have nothing of the remotest interest to say to me or to anyone. You have no fathers, you have no mothers. You have nothing. You belong to me now. I own you. I’ve paid good money for you and I’ve already got a customer lined up who’ll take you off my hands. But for now you’re my property so you don’t move or do anything unless I say so.”

The bit about no mothers and fathers didn’t bother me too much. I was an orphan. What’s more I was used to being bossed around and bullied. But the rest of what he was saying was hard to get my head around.

“You don’t exist anymore in the outside world. You don’t have names. You don’t have anything. You’re slaves. A commodity to be bought and sold. There’s nothing you can do to change it. It’s all been taken care of. So the sooner you buckle down and obey your new owners the easier it will be for all of us.”

“Slave” — I kept rolling the word around in my head trying to make it mean “me”. Somehow I wasn’t the same boy I was yesterday? What had changed? Was it something I’d done wrong? And what did he mean I didn’t exist anymore? I just didn’t get it.

The Señor could see he wasn’t getting through to our thick skulls so, lowering his voice, he tried a different tack.

“Out of all the boys in the world , you have been chosen to be servants of the Reich. It’s a great honour. Your young bodies will bring happiness and prosperity to the free men who will have the good fortune, and the money, to own you. Embrace your new life and you will survive. Resist and you will be punished. Look at Miguel, he’s a slave like you and he looks happy enough, doesn’t he? Are you happy, esclavo?”

“Sí, mi Amo.”

“There you are, you see. Do as you’re told and learn to obey orders, you’ll get along fine. Otherwise,” he gestured towards the Slave Keeper who was standing in the doorway stroking the handle of his whip and glaring at us, “you’ll have him to deal with.”

To drive this point home, the Slave Keeper cracked his whip so loud it echoed round the whole warehouse and scared the living daylight out of us.

“This boy,” the Señor said, pointing a finger at the smart kid, “stays bound and gagged. But the others can be released now.”

No-one dared make a sound as Miguel pulled the tape off our mouths and unlocked the manacles from our wrists. Oh, but what a glorious release that was. How long had it been? Twenty-four hours? More. The smart kid must have been envious, watching us stretch our limbs and rub our sore wrists.

The relief was fleeting. Next thing, we were told to take our clothes off. The smart kid couldn’t of course because his hands were still manacled behind his back, so it was his turn to smirk as he watched us stripping down to our socks and underwear — only to be told we had to get rid of those as well and stand there stark naked.

We laid our things in a neat pile in front of us and then stood to attention with our hands by our sides (our knuckles got rapped if we tried to cover our private parts) while Señor Boronda checked us for rings, pendants, crucifixes and any other items of body jewellery all of which he slipped into his pocket. Miguel followed him, picking up our discarded clothes and stuffing them in a plastic bag. We never saw them again.

By now the smart kid was worried. It was all very well watching us being stripped of everything we possessed but he must have been feeling a little left out. Well, don’t worry about that. The Señor handed Miguel a pair of scissors about the size of garden shears, and had him snip away at the boy’s designer clothes, reducing them to shreds in a matter of seconds and ripping them away until the poor boy was left as naked as the rest of us. His whole body was shaking with anger and he was making all kinds of noises from behind his gag. He really wasn’t taking any of this well!

The rest of us I suppose were taking it a step at a time. I didn’t mind all that much being naked. There had never been much privacy at the orphanage and I just thought maybe we were going to be given a shower and a tunic to wear like Miguel. And the fact that Miguel looked quite healthy and reasonably content with his lot, made me think that being a servant of the Reich was probably not all that bad and certainly better than being on the run or dying of hunger in the forest.

Which reminded me that I hadn’t eaten for so long I couldn’t remember when. So my spirits lifted a little more when Señor Boronda mentioned food.

“One ladle of slave fodder each, Miguel.”

The boy obediently produced a bucket full of what looked like congealed porridge. And that’s what it tasted like too. He scooped out great wodges of it with a wooden ladle which he shoved into our mouths. I nearly choked on it. I’m sure it was scientifically nutritious, but it had the consistency of wet cardboard and was very hard to swallow. Once I’d managed to get it down, though, I did feel a mite better for it.

The smart boy, of course, got nothing. (I should perhaps stop calling him that. In fact I learnt later that his name was Adolpho. His father, who was indeed quite high up in the policía, had been accused of some misdemeanour, as a result of which his son had been snatched from school and turned over to the slavers. The rough boy on the end was Rico, and, as I suspected, he had been living on the streets and had been snatched, like me. The youngster, who even now was edging closer to me, was Tomas, and the good looking, curly haired boy on the end was Luis. You will hear more of them and their stories later.)

All I needed now was something to wash the “fodder” down. I didn’t dare speak out, but the rough boy, Rico, mumbled something about “water”. I thought the Señor was going to punch him in the face again. Instead he said that we would be able to drink as much water as we liked when we were under the shower.

“Now let’s get started,” he said rubbing his hands and looking intently at each of us in turn as he settled into a small folding chair that Miguel had set down for him.

“We’ll begin with you.”

He beckoned to the curly haired boy, Luis.

“Tú, muchacho,” he said tapping his thigh as though he were summoning a pet dog, “Ven aquí.”

Luis took a deep breath, stepped off the platform and walked cautiously towards the waiting Señor — and the “process” began.

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costaxserena · 5 years

Photo

Introducing Jackson Skellington. He is an Artist that is staying at the Wild District. He’s 24 years old and strongly resembles Ross Lynch. He’s taken.

Trigger Warnings: Neglect, Abuse

Get to know him…

Jack Skellington thinks the universe expresses itself in every single human being and we’re all different and the same at once. He’s a very sociable person, even more so now that he’s overcome his forced introversion. Jack likes to talk to new people and make friends everywhere he goes, although he does have a wall that protect him from getting too close for comfort to someone, since he knows even those you love the most can betray your trust. He doesn’t like to share his past or the sadness it can cause him with others. The you man can seem a bit whimsical or over-eccentric sometimes, and not all of his scares, pranks and adventures turn out for the best, but he always means well and was an innate love for people.

Welcome to the coast…

Jack was always a rather loquacious boy that wanted to do different things all the time and never got tired. Since he was very little he loved to draw and even played the piano a little. His parents both encouraged this at the time, since they thought art-related hobbies were a good option. He was also very extroverted, talking to everyone. He’d invent creepy stories and tell them to his friends at school parties or social events where his parents would take him, even if Leonard and Angelique did ask him to refrain. Young Jack didn’t see why this should be a bad thing, he just wanted to share his creative mind with others and didn’t really understand his parents’ worry for his reputation and their own. When he was about 11 years old his parents started disliking his way of being, it was way too extravagant for their taste. This is when he became more introverted. He tried to keep his ideas and impulses to himself, but his personality and love for life wouldn’t let him subdue his peculiar nature. This angered his old money, high class family. His parents were never the type to hang around their son too much, leaving that to his tutors, but they started outright avoiding him. Jack always loved the stars and when he was about eight years old he started sneaking up to the roof of his house at night, to stare at them. That is how, when he was fourteen years old, his parents caught him painting spine-chilling scenes and creatures on the roof at 3am and decided enough was enough. Even if his mother hesitated and tried to take a smaller measure, in the end she and his father decided to send him off to Briarcliff, an extremely closed off and enigmatic psychiatric institution that promised to make him “normal”.

He spent two years at Briarcliff Asylum, where not only was he tried to be forced to change his way of being and give up his unique will trough therapy and privations, but he was also experimented on. Turns out Briarcliff was one of the few undercover institutions left in the world that dedicated to investigating unique individuals and any traces of magic to find a way to use it for dark purposes and investigations. He endured things such as electroshock and operations that he couldn’t quite remember or understand, interviews and activities he was forced to participate in and then try to forget. After about two years of being trapped there, with only minimal and very controlled communication with his parents, his mother finally caved in and told her younger sister about where he was. His aunt Lilibeth fought her way through Briarcliff’s shackles and obstacles and got her nephew out, hiding out with the boy for another couple of years in a small town in the middle of nowhere, making sure he could recover properly and teaching him all she could about life. She would also help him deal with the weird “spells” that came over him sometimes, where he could either to do scary things no live human should be able to, or black out for hours on end. When he was 18 he resurfaced and they contacted his parents, they needed money and the only way to get it was to pretend they fit their standers. At this point, Angelique was mostly just glad to have her son back and safe, and Leonard seemed to be okay with his homecoming as long as he behaved accordingly. Jack, who’d already heard about Costa Serena, sold the idea of the private coast and exclusive university and they agreed to pay his tuition there. So he majored in Liberal Arts, with a Graphic Design minor and saved up as much money as he could so he could stay there after graduation.

Stay a while…

As time went by Jack learned to forget about Briarcliff and love himself as he was, embracing his weirdness. Whenever his darkness threatened to take over he’d either hide out for a couple of days or pretend he didn’t notice it, acting extra bubbly instead. His art has thrived at Costa Serena’s supportive environment and he’s now had several art shows and sold a good amount of paintings and mixed pieces. It’s been almost a year since he graduated and he’s kept working on his art and at the gallery; he’s also begun to spend some of his free time teaching art lessons to children, both at Atlantica School and at a big children’s home in Florida every other weekend. Lately, though, he hasn’t been able to evade his memories as he used to do. The weird feeling and the ethereal quality that his experiences left him with are getting stronger as time goes by and Jack knows he can’t just pretend it’s not there anymore. He wants to go back to Briarcliff, to destroy it and make sure no one else suffers there and to see if there he can find any clue as to what happened to give him this capabilities and how to control them.

Connections:

Miguel Dorante (Boyfriend): Jack never thought he’d be one to fall in love. When he met Miguel he was drawn to the boy and after a friendship where they got to know each other, one night they finally kissed. It’s all been awesome after that and he can’t picture a life without Miguel in it.

Bella Sullivan, Sally Finklestein & Matt Hawthorne (Best Friends): Bella, or Hells Bells, is his best friend in the world and Jack loves spending time with her, no matter what they do. Sally was the first true friend he ever had and he’ll always be thankful for her. He’s very protective of her. Matt is the one person who Jack believes can truly understand and match his love for life and the peculiar side of things.

Jack Frost & Raphi Lights (Close Friends): He and Jack share more than their first name and as he got to know him Jack grew to both admire and care for him. Raphi has always been his biggest supporter when it comes art and similarly, Jack’s always been thankful and proud of her.

#disney rp #town rpg #ross lynch #jack skellington #the nightmare before christmas #tnbc #c #local #wild district #takenm

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wee-chlo · 6 years

Text

I forgot to post this yesterday. Better late than never.

The previous ‘beginning’ to this AU AU had always been intended as a one-shot. So I rerote the opening to better suit the tone and the backstory I wanted for this AU AU. Enjoy!

As always, Villain AU and all it’s holdings belong to @im-fairly-whitty and @slusheeduck , who have been very helpful in the creation of this AU AU as well.

Part 1: Sometimes It’s Hugs First, Moral Dilemmas Later

They’d gotten a call a little after lunch. Papá had answered it expecting some kind of business call. Instead, the Monterey police had notified them that Miguel Rivera had been found dead in his apartment.

The coroner had declared the death a combination of accidental overdose and a heart defect, something no one had caught or known about until he was in the morgue. Alcohol had been found in his system, and the coroner stated that it appeared as if Miguel had gotten drunk and accidentally taken too many of his sleeping pills.

“It doesn’t appear to have been intentional,” Detective Lopez told the family gently, as if it made anything any better, as if that kept Mamá and Abuelita from crying and made Papá stop gripping the steering wheel so tight that Socorro thought his fingers would break. “There wasn’t any foul play either. Just… just bad luck. I’m so sorry.”

The funeral had been hard. Socorro hadn’t seen Miguel in years, so the man in the coffin hadn’t been familiar to her. He looked their father but somehow smaller and more gaunt, dressed in a white button down and dark pants, clean-shaven where Papá had a mustache and shaggy where Papá’s hair was neatly cut. Socorro didn’t know enough about him to know if he was recognizable. Everything felt strange. Distant. Everyone had been crying except for Socorro and she didn’t know why she hadn’t cried. She felt like she should have been. He was her brother, after all.

It just didn’t feel real.

There were reporters inside and paparazzi waiting outside. Not all of the reporters were official. Some of them came up to Mamá and Papá, to Abuelita or Tío Burto, even to her once, and shaken a hand or offered a hug and mentioned how they knew Miguel from ‘work’. They didn’t wear nice suits or dresses. Their clothing was threadbare, their makeup was minimal at best, but they seemed genuine.

They had stories about Miguel, most of them either really funny or really nice. Socorro learned more about Miguel in those few conversations with these people she hadn’t met before than day than she had from any conversation with Abuelita.

Miguel had had a dog in the years before his death, a big mutt he’d named Adelita who’d eaten more of Miguel’s food than Miguel had and sat on Miguel’s feet to keep him from going anywhere when she wanted love.

Miguel liked Diet Dr. Pepper and made everyone in the bullpen breakfast every Monday.

“Made the best huevos rancheros this side of the river,” a guy named Erasmo said with something bordering on awe.

Miguel could do a terrifyingly good Texas accent. Multiple people had videos on their phones. They got Mamá to start laughing through her tears and Socorro would always love them for it.

They were the ones that came to the house later with Miguel’s things. A whole life packed up in a bunch of boxes, things from his apartment in Monterey or his desk at the newspaper he’d worked at. If Socorro hadn’t decided she’d like them already from the funeral, she’d have liked them then. The idea of going to Miguel’s apartment, where he’d died and where his body had been for nearly a day before someone had thought to look for him… Mamá had been a wreck when the call had come in. Socorro didn’t want to think about what it would be like for her to see that.

It was bad enough seeing it all in the papers. The death of Miguel Rivera, the prodigal son of the esteemed Rivera family, the great-great-grandson of Héctor and Imelda Rivera… That hadn’t gone unnoticed. Miguel had stayed out of the newsreels for the most part, aside from what he’d written himself, but the tabloids loved him. Not for the same reasons they’d loved Tío Rodrigo. Miguel wasn’t… hadn’t been a partier, hadn’t been drunk in public or made much fuss. He’d gone to school, lived quietly, become a reporter with some newspaper in Monterey focusing on crime, had even written a book or two on serial killers and unsolved crimes. But there had always been rumors, ever since that Día de los Muertos.

Whatever happened to Miguelito?

Miguel had never talked about it but everyone knew about it, or thought they knew about it. He’d disappeared for an entire night, running off at dusk and running back at dawn. Socorro hadn’t even been born yet but with Miguel’s passing, the news revisited it with a relish that made her queasy. The hysteria, the theories, the rumors, so many that outside of the family, no one knew what was real and what wasn’t. Experts on child abuse and sex trafficking spoke to eager pundits, even a few Rivera historians informed a well-versed public on what had happened to Tía Victoria so long ago, their voices dropping and becoming soft and somber.

Mamá and Papá never let her watch the news for long, but she’d seen enough. Videos and photos leaked of her brother’s apartment: a shoebox of a place with water stains and mold visible even through the grainy quality of the leaks. A wall covered in nonsense, bits of paper and post-it notes and pictures. An unmade bed, a bedside table covered with pill bottles and a folding table with a half-empty bottle of tequila on it.

Miguel had died in his sleep but Socorro still knew that he’d suffered. Maybe it hadn’t been a painful death, but he’d suffered.

A rush of smell had hit them both like a truck when they’d opened the boxes. Somehow, without knowing it, the smell clicked with Socorro as something undeniably Miguel. Socorro found the names for them buried under the clothing: lavender and lemon incense tucked up with a little burner. It permeated everything. It cracked something in Socorro and her papá that had remained solid and steady since the call had come.

They curled up with each other on the sofa and cried for what felt like forever before they were able to start going through the

The boxes mostly had personal effects. Some clothes, but mostly notebooks, letters, pictures, a couple dozen books and other random things that she and Papá went through. It would be awhile before Mamá could look through them. It would be longer before Abuelita could.

Miguel had kept everything. Every letter Socorro had sent him, every birthday card, every invite to every family event. Every email she’d sent had been printed off and tucked away carefully. She found letters from Mamá and Papá, newspaper articles about her and Rosa and Abel and their other primos.

And a laptop.

It was a bulky thing. Heavy and just a little too big to fit in any backpack Socorro had. She figured Miguel had gotten it second hand; she’d overheard Abuelita despair at how he was too proud to accept money from the family. It had stickers on it: This Machine Kills Fascists, a Princess Peach sticker, a sugar skull.

When she opened it, it was password protected. The lock screen was the family photo from Miguel’s high school graduation, the last time Socorro could remember their family whole and happy. Papá and Mamá’s arms around Miguel’s shoulders, Miguel’s own arm wrapped loosely around Socorro’s in a half-noogie. It was a good picture.

He’d left a few days afterwards. If Socorro strained a little, she could remember sitting in her room, the screaming from downstairs seeming muffled. Miguel, Papá, Mamá, Abuelita. She’d never actually heard Papá yell like that before. She’d never heard Miguel yell like that either, come to think of it.

Miguel had gone to university and hadn’t come back to the house after that. But sometimes he’d call. Abuelita had never taken the calls, even though he’d asked to speak with her a lot. Papá talked to him, and Mamá had talked to him. They didn’t always pass the phone over but sometimes they did. Miguel would ask about school, about music lessons, about the family. She’d have one more person to brag to about how she’d finally mastered that complicated drum rhythm or the A she’d gotten in math.

“Dang, you’re smarter than me, Coco. I never got A’s in nothing.”

“I’m not smarter than you; you’re in college.”

“I’m not in college because I’m smart, I’m in college because I’m stubborn.”

She didn’t get it. She hadn’t gotten it then and she didn’t get it now.

Socorro clicked Forgot Password. The hint popped up, clear as mud.

first victim

Miguel Rivera woke up dead.

For awhile he just drifted, his brain scattered and everything coming to him distantly, as if through water. He didn’t know how long things just sort of came to him, passing by his periphery without sinking in, but slowly things became to crystalize. It was like he’d ceased to be, and then he was again.

He was Miguel Rivera, and he’d clearly slept through his alarm.

His brain struggled to catch up. All his thoughts were so sluggish that the fact that people were talking didn’t even sink in at first. Miguel struggled to focus.

“Should it take this long? It shouldn’t take this long, surely….”

So familiar…

“The doctor said this is normal for someone who dies the way he did. Calm down, mi amor.”

“Si, si…”

Miguel groaned in frustration, struggling to pin down the voice. He’d heard it before, he knew he had, where though, where-

“Migue? Miguel, mi’jo, are you awake?”

Pepita? Take care of him, will you?

Miguel jerked upright with a scream. Immediately, hands grabbed his arm, his shoulder, “Mi’jo, calm down!” The sound of teeth and claws crunching down on bone seemed to echo in, something ingrained in his brain like a crime scene photo, like song, like the look on Ernesto’s face and the look on Héctor’s and and and

Héctor.

Miguel’s insides turned to ice. There was a hand smoothing back his hair, another rubbing soothing circles into the back of his own. He heard weird little clicking noises, clattering.

“There we go, there we go, just breathe.” Miguel obliged, breathing deep and hearing… rattling.

He looked down at the hands in his lap.

Oh.

His brain seemed to work in sections, processing things like an old computer, one thing at a time, bit by bit because that’s all it could handle.

Bones. He was bones. The hand on his own was bone. And there was no soft aura of skin around his hand, no gentle promise of the possibility of going home, of making up with Abuelita or hugging Coco or talking to Mamá and Papá. Nothing. Just bone. Pearly white and dry and dead dead dead.

Miguel forced himself to look away. The room wasn’t his, the bed wasn’t his. Everything was soft pastels, all greens and yellows and off-whites, sterile and minimal. A hospital room.

He’d been in a hospital room before. He’d been in one many, many times. This one was different. The last time he’d been in a hospital, he’d been seventeen and done something stupid and he’d woken up to his parents sitting beside him, wide-eyed and worried.

Now he’d done something stupid and woken up to Héctor and Imelda.

Héctor looked more or less the same since the last time Miguel had seen him: a tall skeleton with salt and pepper hair in an immaculate charro suit. He hadn’t met Imelda, though he knew who she was without any introductions. Even as a skeleton, the casual, effortless elegance continued on. They both stared at him with concern, Héctor’s hand at Miguel’s forehead and Imelda’s at his wrist.

“Miguel?” Héctor said softly. “Are you… are you with us?”

God, he didn’t want to do this. Miguel had been hoping for… maybe four or five more decades before having to deal with this? Minimum? Even then he’d probably have felt cheated, what with Mamá Coco being over a hundred when she died.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know why he was here.

“It’s good to see you, Miguel,” Héctor said, his voice still low and careful. “I wish… I wish it wasn’t like this, though. I wish you’d taken a bit longer.”

You and me both.

“I’m your Papá Héctor,” Héctor said, as if Miguel needed a reminder. “This is your Mamá Imelda. Do you… Do you remember-”

“You died in your sleep,” Imelda cut in gently. “It was an accident. You’ve been here for about a day now, recovering. You’ll be groggy for a while, that’s normal. You’ll be tired. You’ll need a lot more sleep. We have a room for you back at the house so you don’t need to stay here for much longer.”

Miguel looked back down to his hands, the bones clicking together as he fumbled with them, fighting to urge to bring them to his mouth to gnaw. He didn’t have fingernails to gnaw on anymore. He tried to remember what had happened… An accident? He died in his sleep accidentally? He didn’t have the foggiest idea what that was supposed to mean…

“They said that you… got drunk,” Héctor said. “And took too much of your sleeping medication. They think you might have just forgotten that you’d already taken some or, or taken too many by mistake.”

Gotten drunk? Miguel didn’t drink much. He especially didn’t get so drunk that he forgot things, that was dangerous. But if he’d said something, if he’d been brought back by the blessing, they’d have said something by now…

Why had he gotten drunk? Why would he risk that? He struggled to ignore them and their worried looks and think.

It had been his day off. He’d been working on… what he always worked on. And he’d been digging into…

“The reporters,” he muttered, everything rushing back. Héctor and Imelda both went still.

“Reporters?” Imelda asked slowly. “Was someone bothering you, Miguel?” He wondered if she genuinely didn’t know or if she was just playing stupid.

“The ones you killed,” Miguel said before he could think. Thinking was too hard anyway; remembering was exhausting enough at it was.

Imelda and Héctor were quiet for a very long time.

“Miguel,” Héctor said, and Miguel tried to ignore how much Héctor sounded like his own father when he said it: tired and worried and strained all at the same time. “We’ve all been worried about you for awhile now. In the Land of the Living and in the Land of the Dead. You… you don’t come home for Dia de los Muertos, you never had an ofrenda. We’d hear all kinds of things, that you were hurting yourself, hurting other people… we didn’t know what you’d do… or say…”

Miguel burst out laughing.

Héctor and Imelda both jerked away, leaving him floating in a rising tide of hysteria. Distantly, he thought he heard someone knock on the door but Imelda snapped, “We have it under control!” and no one came.

Somewhere along the way, the laughs turned into sobs. Somehow they always did, especially lately. Especially now.

“I… couldn’t,” Miguel managed to choke out, his chest inexplicably tightening with panic. “I, I couldn’t!” How many therapists had they taken him too? How many medications had they prescribed him? How many times had he had to break down screaming before they backed off on the suggestion of hypnotists, and the questions, constant questions from everyone, his mamá, his papá, his abuelita, police, reporters, doctors, lawyers, and he couldn’t say anything.

But he could now. Maybe. Just a little.

“You-you killed the reporters,” he said, feeling the words bubble out on the sobs like driftwood on a wave. “You burned the house down and no one noticed, no one connected it but you were, you were nowhere near where you were supposed to be and you wouldn’t get lost, you drove yourselves around everywhere, so, so, so that was it, wasn’t it?”

“Mi’jo, you need to calm down,” Héctor said sternly, but Miguel couldn’t stop, the words just kept bubbling out, his fingers clattering together as they clenched and unclenched spasmodically.

“That was it, you’d covered everything else up but you couldn’t cover that up because, because you died so that was it. You know, you know everyone talks a bunch of shit about circumstantial evidence, all the TV shows, they act like it’s not good enough but it is good enough, you can use it to let people use their own judgment and then, and then they figure things out themselves. So all, all these people die or go missing or whatever and then you’re on the wrong side of town for no reason at the same time as these reporters that died and they were digging into your background too hard and isn’t it weird how all these people just kept dying around these beloved figures, isn’t it odd-”

“Miguel,” Imelda said sharply, giving him a shake and making the rush of words stutter. “Miguel, enough.”

Miguel closed his eyes tight and tried to bite back the wild flood. Imelda’s grip on his wrist was almost like a lifeline, something holding him in place so that he didn’t scatter to the wind. Héctor spoke up next to him, his voice softer but still stern, paternal.

“Miguel, we didn’t do any of those things lightly. We didn’t do them because they were easy or without looking for other options. We did those things to keep this family safe from people who would take advantage or hurt us, hurt our children and our grandchildren. People who would hurt our great-grandchildren. People who would hurt you and Socorro, your primos.” Héctor let out a sharp sigh through his teeth. “You said you understood that.”

“I was twelve,” Miguel whispered. “I lied.”

The silence that followed was heavy and dark. Miguel tried to use it to calm down, but it felt so thick that all it did was make his chest feel tighter.

What did he do wrong? What else could he have done?

“Miguel,” Imelda said. “Look at me.” Miguel looked up before he could stop himself.

Imelda’s expression was stern, but the hand that came up to cup his cheek was gentle as she said, “We need to know you can be trusted, Miguel. You’ve spent a lot of time on this; it’s meant a lot to you. I’m sorry things happened the way that they did. But we need to make sure that the family is safe here now that we know they’re safe in the Land of the Living. Do you understand?”

Miguel thought of the reporters, burning alive in their own office building. He thought of the lawyer, dead on the floor of his apartment with a bottle of booze by his side.

He thought of the stalker, the one who’d attacked Imelda, unrecognizable in death as anything like human.

Miguel wasn’t stupid. He knew they couldn’t kill him. But that part of his brain that remembered everything, that kept all the little details of every crime scene photo and audio recording and autopsy report he’d ever absorbed ready for dark nights and nightmares knew that dying wasn’t necessarily the worst thing that could happen to you.

Especially not when you were already dead.

“We need to know you’re not going to say anything,” she continued, her voice a low, soothing thread in the growing rush of confusion. “We need to know we can trust you. If not, you’ll need to stay with us for a while, where you’ll be safe and everyone else can be safe too. You’re our family, mi’jo, and we love you. But we can’t-”

“I can’t,” Miguel said, cutting her off. Imelda stuttered to a stop. “I can’t. I wanted to but I… I can’t…”

He thought about doing it. About saying something. Telling the next doctor or whoever what he knew. The idea made him want to scream, made him want to hide under the blankets like a little kid and never come out.

They’d yelled at him for years for not talking, he didn’t even want to know what they’d do to him if he actually talked.

a man with a face beaten in so badly that police couldn’t verify his identity with dental work

What could you do to a dead man? Lock him up and throw away the key? Put him in a box and throw him in the muck and you’d never see him again, he’d never hear anyone’s voice again, never touch anyone, never see anything ever again until he went crazy but hey, I already am so what’s the big deal there?

“Migue, we would never!” Miguel didn’t know how much of it had slipped out but Imelda looked horrified and Héctor’s arms wrapped around him, pulled him into a warm and steady hug, a hand holding his head against his chest the way Papá used to after a nightmare. “We’d never hurt you, mi’jo, never. You’re safe now, you’re alright. You… you just need time. That’s alright. We’ll take you home and you can be with family again, sí? Everyone will be so happy to see you and you can meet everyone and we, we can talk about it all when you’re ready.”

It’d been a very, very long time since anyone had held Miguel. Since anyone had carded their fingers through his hair, since a hand had rubbed his back. Imelda whispered, “Go to sleep, Miguel. We can all talk once you’ve gotten some rest.”

“You’re safe,” Héctor repeated as the energy that had fueled so much panic in Miguel flagged, fell away in the face of overwhelming care, leaving him drowsy and weak. “I’ve got you, Miguel. You’re safe.”

He was so tired. So, so tired.

He’d think about it later.

Héctor tucked Miguel under his chin, humming something aimless and soothing as Miguel slipped into sleep.

[Part 2]

#pixar coco #villain!au #Villain AU AU #The Give Ruy Hugs Initiative

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