#need checking in on and santos he does check in on when it becomes clear there is a problem and collins and him had a thing so he can’t

[drmelking]

My favorite part of The Pitt is every single doctor desperately vying for Robby’s attention and approval and then there’s Whitaker who looks like he wants to scurry off into the walls or crumple into a puddle and disintegrate every time Robby so much as glances his way and so of course that’s who Robby decides to be like “that’s him. that’s my new favorite white boy” with

[anactualcaseofthetruth]

Friends Can Break Your Heart Too - Chapter 5 < ao3 link

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Chapter 2 / ao3

Chapter 3 / ao3

Chapter 4 / ao3

Story summary: Mia Flores flees to Santo Padre for one reason and one reason only: her godfather and the man who raised her, Bishop Losa. The last thing she expects is for Angel Reyes to come into her chaotic life and just maybe be the one thing that starts to make sense.

Chapter summary: Bishop gives Mia a talk then Mia and Angel have some fun.

Rated: SMUT. Sex, oral, cream pie, all that good stuff.

A/N: Esai Alvarez in this story is played by Manny Montana with Rio from Good Girls tats! Just a reminder!

Chapter 5:

“Mija?” Mia hears Bishop’s voice travel up the stairs to the bathroom where she’s finishing getting ready for a party at the clubhouse. The boys just got a big payday and that usually means a fun night.

“Bathroom!” she calls back while touching up her mascara, not at all surprised Bishop is the one to pick her up today. Angel was very clear in his text this morning the reason he wasn’t climbing into bed with her was because her godfather mentioned he planned on stopping by. Angel also mentioned that he was tired as fuck and couldn’t wait to see her later.

It doesn’t surprise her that Bishop wants to see her, he always wants to touch base after being gone on a run, and him and the boys did two back-to-back over the last week and a half, with only being home one day in between.

What does surprise her was that Angel texts her when they are on runs. It isn’t frequent, of course, but it is at least once a day, sometimes more if possible. He doesn’t say much, just that everything is going good and everyone is whole, but just the fact that he even tries means the world to her.

Most the time with Esai, Mia didn’t know he was home until she woke up and found him in bed with her, or passed out on the couch, or heard from Bishop that they were home and wanted to get lunch or dinner or something. It was rare for Esai to text her daily on runs—maybe when they first got together or if something particularly shitty was going on with her mom. She got maybe one or two texts over a five-day period, if that.

She hears Bishop making his way through the shopping bags that litter her bedroom floor. “Nice to see you’re spending your money wisely,” he comments.

“You’re the one who said you wouldn’t take anything from me for the first three months,” Mia counters while twisting the mascara closed and giving her face a last once over. “I tried to give you more than half my paycheck because I know I owe you, but you—”

“I know, I know, I’m just fucking with you,” Bishop stops her with a chuckle as he leans on the doorjamb leading to the bathroom. “You’re only doing what I want you to do—rebuild your life. I’m glad you’re making yourself at home, or at least,” his eyes flick back to the mess on her floor, “making a few businesses happy. Took a trip to El Centro?”

“That’s where Letty said the good mall is, and some pretty awesome boutiques. She wasn’t wrong,” Mia answers with a shrug. “I got her a few things too, and I’m not letting Coco pay me back, just letting you know.”

“That’s his fight, not mine,” he responds with hands up in surrender and they both smile at one another. “You look… good,” he settles on after looking her up and down a moment later.

She’s wearing a new pair of Army green cargo pants that hug her ass and thighs but are baggy at her feet. It’s matched with a dusty rose top laced up through her breasts, showing skin the whole way, but has long flowy sleeves. She isn’t wearing a bra, of course, that would throw off the whole look, but is covered up enough that Bishop won’t say anything, even if his eyes do. It should elicit a different reaction out of Angel though.

“I know,” she replies, and he chuckles again, having learned long ago that fighting about her clothes was a losing battle. “Everything went good this week? No problems?” she asks while passing him on her way out of the bathroom and starts digging through the bags for her brand new white Nikes.

Of course, she knows all went well—Angel had told her so, but Bishop doesn’t know that.

“All the drops went good, prisons up the coast and in AZ are flush with enough H to keep our brothers inside on top, and the other charters are making their deliveries,” he informs her.

“And the Chinese? I know their order was a surprise, but it seemed like you all had it handled,” she says while slipping the Air Force 1s on and smiling down at her splurge. Her godfather’s right, it’s nice to have more than a handful of things to call her own again.

“We’re a well-oiled machine,” Bishop assures her and at this Mia chortles.

“You’re definitely a well-intoxicated one,” she jokes, and they laugh once more. “I’m glad everything went well, Bop. You guys deserve this party tonight, you’ve been working your asses off lately.”

“Like we need a reason to party,” he comments, and she grins. “But a big payday does always make the boys more agreeable, and that I’m a fan of.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m ready to go if you are,” she says and slips her phone in her pocket, the only thing she’ll need for the night.

“You, uh, don’t seem surprised I’m here,” Bishop mentions.

“We usually get together when you get home,” she reminds him. “I figured we’d be doing something. It’s past lunch, so dinner,” she adds on with a shrug. “And I’m paying by the way, no buts.”

“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’,” her godfather states easily. “But, uh, wanted to check in, see how you’re doing now that you’re settling in at the job and the house, you know,” he goes on while taking a seat on her bed.

Realization washes over her. He’s not here for their normal post-run hang out, and this whole ‘check in’ shit is just that—shit. He knows how she’s doing with the job and the house, they talk every day, and before she started at the clinic he saw her everyday because she was making money at the clubhouse or scrap yard.

This isn’t just ‘checking in’. He wants to have a conversation about something particular but doesn’t know how to start it.

“I’m having flashbacks to my quinceanera, when you spent an hour talking about how I was about to become a woman,” she mumbles while taking a seat next to him, “but what you really wanted to know was if I was still a virgin because you knew Esai was about to ask me to be his girlfriend and you worried that he was going to deflower me that very night.”

“Did he?” he asks, and Mia looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That is none of your business, but no, he did not,” she appeases him, which isn’t a lie.

Technically, because she wasn’t a virgin that night, so when she had sex with Esai after her party she wasn’t deflowered. Not that he needs to know about that, there are some things her father doesn’t need to know. Esai was her first, but she isn’t fan of the word ‘deflower’ nor is she interested in talking to Bishop about the concept of virginity. No man’s dick is important enough to change any part of her identity.

“Good, good,” Bishop murmurs and nods. “My warnings didn’t stop you from slow dancing with him at every chance that night, though.”

“Bop,” Mia sighs and crosses her legs, “why don’t we do what we didn’t manage then? Just ask me what you want to know or tell me whatever it is you want to say, because it took me a good year to realize what you wanted from me during that long, excruciating talk before my party started.”

“I thought I was pretty clear about how decisions you made that night could affect you for the rest of your life, and how you needed to protect yourself, and do what you thought was right,” he replies.

“I was fifteen, Bop,” she reminds him. “Besides that, I knew Esai was going to officially ask me out, so I had a little more on my mind than figuring out what you were actually trying to tell me,” she goes on. “Plus, I was dreading what you all would say during your speeches, which I was right to because it was another hour of men talking about my virginity without actually talking about it and I was mortified,” she says then remembers that this isn’t the conversation her godfather wants to have. “What is on your mind, Bop?”

“Look,” he starts and leans forward onto his knees, his hands clasped together between them. “I know this shit ain’t my business, that we try to stay out of each other’s personal lives, but if it involves my club and one of my guys, I should at least know what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?” Mia asks as dread trickles down her spine, not sure exactly how dumb to play. She doesn’t want to give away information he doesn’t know while he’s fishing for whatever it is he wants to know, you know?

Bishop continues, “I know these guys, Mia. I know them, I know their habits, their routines, and I know when something is off with one of them. They are my family just as much as you are, I’d die for them, and they’d do the same for me.”

“That’s morbid, but sweet,” she comments innocently.

“I’m being serious, Mia,” Bishop says, his voice booming. “I need you to be honest with me.”

“Then ask me what you want to know instead of trying to trick me into saying something,” she responds, her tone now just as serious.

“When we’re on runs and we’ve reached our drop point and we’re bone tired, we spend the night,” he starts. “But, boys being boys, they don’t always spend their time sleeping, if you know what I mean, and Angel is no exception.”

Mia’s stomach sinks. Does Bishop think she’s dating Angel and trying to tell her he slept with someone else on their run?

Sure, she and Angel aren’t together, but they agreed while they are hooking up to only hook up with each other. Then again, with the clinic opening she’s done little more than eat, sleep, work and repeat in the last two weeks. Maybe since she’s been too busy and tired for sex lately, he started to look elsewhere. After all, that’s what Esai used to do—get his needs met when on a run. It meant she was less likely to run into whoever he cheated with, and it also meant it was with a girl who knew better than to expect anything more from him.

“Okay,” Mia manages after a minute, not sure what else to say, and not sure why her chest feels like an open wound. It’s not the first time the guy she’s sleeping with stepped out on her when on a run.

So, Angel broke their deal, she doesn’t know what Bishop has to do with it, especially since he wasn’t supposed to know they were sleeping together in the first place. If he thinks they are dating does he think Angel just cheated on her? He always stayed out of her and Esai’s relationship—that is, until she brought him into it because she was a stupid, heartbroken kid who wanted her dad on her side, not caring what position it put him in with the club.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Bop,” she murmurs. “You know the rules, what happens on a run stays on a run, and I don’t know what this has to do with me.”

“I want you to tell me the truth about what’s going on with you and Angel, Mia,” he insists as he turns his face to look her in the eye. “I wanna know if you’re the reason why the guy who never makes the smart move and chooses to sleep on a run actually has done just that ever since you moved here.”

Oh. “Oh,” she mumbles and thinks of what to say as warmth blooms in her chest and she fights the urge to smile. He didn’t cheat on her!

Well, of course he didn’t, because they aren’t dating. He’s just the best friend she’s sleeping with.

“I know you two are close, and at the first I thought it was just him actually being tired, but it’s been months and—”

“Angel and I aren’t together,” she cuts him off quickly. “If we were, I would have told you,” she assures him. “That’s not something I would keep from you. I know what being with a guy in the club means, the power it holds, and the weakness it can be. I wouldn’t keep it a secret from you. Angel and I, we aren’t doing anything like that.”

“You sure about that?” he asks with a look of disbelief on his face.

“Yes. We’re sleeping together, that’s it,” Mia admits because there is no point in hiding it now.

They haven’t exactly been discreet. The boys know, Letty almost walked in on them, it’s only been two weeks and a few of the girls at the clinic are already whispering about him. Besides, Bishop’s too smart to think they are just friends; he knows the both of them too well.

“And we’re friends. Good friends, more like best friends, even though that makes us sound twelve,” she mumbles as an afterthought. “We can talk to each other, no bullshit, and he makes me laugh, but we’re just friends, I promise.”

“Friends,” Bishop repeats and then barks out a laugh.

“We are!” Mia insists. “I’m not fucking with you.”

He stands from the bed, a hand attempting to stifle his laughter. “No, no, I know you’re not. I know you believe you’re friends, that’s what makes this funny.”

“Bop!”

“You know, I was friends with your mother once,” he says.

“Ew! No, we’re not—this is not the same thing,” she tells him, standing so she can look him in the eye.

“Your dad was friends with her too,” he goes on.

“Enough, can we go now, please? You got the information you wanted, I’ve been adequately traumatized, I think we’re done here.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can go. Just, be safe, will ya?” he pleads, his eyes much softer now.

Mia groans. “We went over this before my quinceanera too, Bop. I know how to use a condom and have my end taken care of—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” her godfather cuts her off. “I mean, I’m glad you’re using protection, but I’m talking about this,” he said and jabs a finger at her chest. “Your heart doesn’t give a fuck what’s going on up here,” he says and now points at her temple. “You have control over a lot in life, what you wanna do, where you wanna live, the stuff you wear and how you show yourself to the world, but your heart? That fucker you don’t have much control of, and it’ll get you every time, trust me. So, you protect it any way you can, you hear me?”

Mia nods and bites her lip. “I hear you, Bop,” she assures him. “But you see what you just said, that’s what you should have told me before my quinceanera,” she says. “That is the straightforward kind of shit a fifteen-year-old needs to hear.”

Bishop grins and leans forward to kiss her forehead. “Shut up and get on my bike, will ya?”

“Sure thing, Papa,” she answers and leads the way down the steps and out the door, completely missing the look on Bishop’s face at her calling him dad, even if only in passing. If she had, she probably wouldn’t be calling him just ‘Bop’ much longer. “But I’m still paying for dinner!” she calls over her shoulder, not caring to listen to his response because she isn’t going to fold on this one.

Hours later Mia tilts her neck to the side, giving Angel room to continue his hot kisses, her eyes trying to focus on the fire in front of them, but everything is getting hazy. “I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have told you,” she murmurs, hoping he thinks her low tone is because she’s trying to be quiet, not because she’s breathless.

“What you mean?” he wonders, his lips now at her ear, his teeth teasing at her lobe.

“You wouldn’t be torturing me like this if I hadn’t told you Bishop knows,” she moans and pulls away when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “We need to stop. I told you we have to be respectful when he’s around.”

“Baby, this isn’t disrespectful,” he insists, his hands now playing with the lace strings at the front of her top. “If you want to see what that looks like though…” he says and tugs on the knot.

“Angel!” she gasps and slaps his hand away. “Be good.”

He grins and pulls away, leaving an arm around her shoulders and leans back in their bench seat. It’s the backseat of what probably was some kind of station wagon that the boys pulled out of the scrapyard. It fits three, and since they are so low to the ground Angel’s legs are spread out in front of them, otherwise they’d be touching his chest.

“Fuck, it feels good to be home for more than 12 fucking hours,” he sighs while scooting down the seat even more so his head can rest on her shoulders. “Feels even better to know I get to spend tomorrow doin’ nothing but you.”

At this, Mia laughs, and it’s full and hearty. “As long as you make it worth my time,” she comments. “I do only get one full weekend off a month, you know?”

“Mi dulce, have I ever not left you shaking uncontrollably on my cock?” Angel questions while lighting a cigarette, his actions very nonchalant after the sentence he just dropped.

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything,” she teases him.

He shakes his head at her. “Keep talkin’ shit, we’ll see how tough you are later,” he warns as he decides he isn’t comfortable enough and moves so his head is in her lap, his legs taking up the rest of their seat.

“Ooh, I’m scared,” she sing-songs.

“Better be,” he insists as smoke escapes his lips. “I just spent the last week on the road with dudes, busy as fuck, and without tasting my girl for sixteen days because of her job. I have needs, querida.”

Mia rolls her lips together to keep from laughing. “My poor little drug smuggler,” she coos. “Did you have a tough time partying in Oregon?”

“Yeah, fucking right. It always turns into a pissing match up there,” Angel grumbles. “They are the biggest charter next to Oakland, so they think they got bigger balls than the rest of us. The rest of ‘em forget they wouldn’t have any H if it wasn’t for Santo Padre risking our asses in the tunnels, over the border, and riding it up the fucking coast.”

“I’m sure you guys didn’t have a problem reminding them,” she comments with a hand carding through his hair.

“Didn’t have to,” he replies, “E did it for us. He’s still new to the prez patch, so he’s making sure everyone knows their places, that even though his pop isn’t the president of Oakland anymore doesn’t mean they aren’t in control.”

Mia’s movements stumble. “E? E—Esai was there?”

“Yeah. He likes to make himself known on big hauls, says he’s getting his hands dirty too, not just getting rich off our work,” Angel tells her. “Earns a lot of respect that way, and he gets to know everyone, even prospects.”

She nods, her eyes studying the orange glow. “He does have a way of making everyone feel special,” she mumbles. “Did he… did he, um, ask about me?”

Angel inhales deeply. “Asked Bish,” he says with smoke leaking from his mouth.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, they were walking away, wasn’t my business to listen,” he reminds her.

“Not your business?” Mia demands. “I’m—we’re best friends, it’s your business if I say it is and it is.”

“Oookay?” Angel says with his voice on the verge of laughter. “What did you want me to say?” he asks while flicking his butt into the fire. “’Wassup bro, you know the only girl you said you’d ever love? Well, I’m fucking her regularly. She says hi’?”

Mia shrugs. “You coulda gone without ‘the only girl you’d ever love’ part, I feel like that’s a little blow the belt,” she offers, and he chuckles.

“You’re alright with the ‘fucking her regularly’ part then?”

“I mean,” she starts with another shrug, “I’ve heard enough about his exploits, he can hear some of mine.”

Angel takes her free hand and links it through his. “You miss him. Just call him, querida.”

“He didn’t talk to you at all?” she asks, ignoring him, and his suggestion, as she does every time she thinks of it herself.

“We spoke, I guess? Said hi, asked how shit was, I said good, asked how his shit was, he said good, we laughed at something dumb Pac said—”

“Pac was there?” Mia questions, her voice sad as it tapers off. “Of course, Pac was there, he’s Esai's El Pacificador,” she mumbles to herself. “What’d you laugh at him for?” she demands with a punch to the chest with their connected hands.

“Ow! Nothin’! It was a joke. We weren’t laughing at him, geez,” Angel defends.

“Pac’s the fuckin’ best, he was always being made fun of by assholes when we were kids, but… he did it on purpose. That way they weren’t teasing anyone else,” she tells him. “Then Esai came around and a fight would break out. I was the look out,” she says with both nostalgia and pride splashed across her face. “We were the three musketeers.”

“Did that extend to when you and E started dating—stop fuckin’ hitting me!” he exclaims in a laugh.

“No, it did not,” she answers anyways. “But Pac felt left out so I’d make sure to plan stuff with the three of us,” she goes on. “He used to get upset because girls were afraid to date him knowing if they hurt him I’d fuck them up.”

Angel stares up at her and licks his lips. “Call them, baby, I know you miss them.”

“It’s not that easy—”

“It is. Especially with Paco, you think he’s gonna bring up what happened? He’s just gonna be happy to talk to you. He’s like a fuckin’ puppy with a gun.”

At this, Mia laughs. “You’re not wrong, but if I talk to Paco, he’s gonna tell Esai and—”

“So fucking call them both,” he cuts her off again. “Esai’s fucked you over enough times that he definitely owes you one. Call, you don’t have to say you’re sorry or explain shit if you don’t want to. If he’s fuckin’ smart he’ll just pick up wherever you left off.”

“Owes me more like a hundred and one,” she mumbles. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Alright,” he replies easily.

“That’s… that’s it? You’re not gonna keep pushing me or tell me I should do it or anything?” she wonders.

Angel sits up and gives her a shrug, “Ain’t my place. I said my part. I think you should reach out. You’ve never given Esai your new number, so he can’t do it. If you want me or Bish to pass your number along, just say so. Otherwise, it’s on you.”

Mia leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. “You’re cute, osito,” she whispers.

“Don’t spread it around,” he murmurs, then kisses her again.

“Imma spread something later,” she says and Angel chuckles against her lips. “That sounded better in my head,” she admits and drops her head to his chest.

“To be fair, I didn’t think we were spreading mulch around,” he replies while wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “Fuck, that reminds me, I told Bish I’d cut your grass tomorrow.”

“You just volunteered for this?” she asks as she lifts her head enough to look him in the eye.

“He was about to make EZ do it, and I didn’t want him at the house—I’m tryna keep you naked most the day tomorrow—so I said I’d do it, that I was dropping by anyways,” Angel explains. “Now that he knows we’re fucking he knows that was a lie, but,” he stops with a shrug. “Imma still do it.”

“You’re trying to keep me naked tomorrow, huh?” she says with a smile. “Then how am I gonna give you a beer dressed in a tiny bikini top and my shortest shorts while you mow the lawn?”

Angel pulls her by the back of her neck until they are kissing. “That ain’t happenin’ unless you want me to take you right there in the grass.”

“Only if you’re on the bottom,” Mia counters, “I feel like grass would rub in a bad way, you know?”

He laughs as he drops his head to her shoulder. “So, you want my ass on fire?”

“Better than mine!” she replies. “And you get to stare at my boobs, so no complaining.”

“Never,” he murmurs, about to go into another kiss when they are interrupted.

“Either of you need a beer?” they hear over their heads and look up to find EZ.

“If we fucking did you look real empty handed,” Angel tells his brother, then grimaces when Mia smacks him once again. “Fucking stop that,” he mutters and rubs his chest. “It’s the same spot every fucking time.”

“No, we’re good Ezekiel, thank you,” Mia answers for them after a pointed look at his older brother.

“We are?” Angel asks with crinkled eyebrows.

“If you plan on driving me home, yeah,” she tells him and he pouts, but doesn’t speak up because he knows its code leaving soon.

He does, however, stand up. “Alright, if we’re heading out I gotta take a piss,” he says, taking her hint. “You should too, you know, for what I got planned for you,” he says while sending a wink Mia’s way before sauntering off.

“You know,” EZ starts while plopping down next to her. “He’s heading into the clubhouse like he hasn’t whipped it out in front of us all week on the road.”

“Yeah, most the girls have probably seen it too,” Mia agrees, and EZ laughs in agreement. “Woulda saved him a trip.”

EZ looks to see his brother disappear into the clubhouse. “Look, I, uh, wanted to talk to you real quick before Angel comes back.”

“Should I be nervous about this?” she asks, racking her brain for something EZ would need to talk to her about, but comes up with nothing.

“No, I just—” he stops and lifts his butt up as he reaches for his wallet. “When we were teenagers, Angel was real into art. He was really good at it too, it was something he and our mom did together.”

Mia nods, not wanting to tell him she already knew this, but is intrigued all the same. What could he have to tell her?

“But, uh, back then he doodled on everything. It drove our parents nuts. It would be all over the mail, the newspaper, his homework, everything,” he goes on. “He, uh, he stopped when Mom died, and as far as I knew he hadn’t gotten back into it,” he stops and looks to make sure Angel isn’t on his way back yet. “But, uh, before we left the motel at one of our stops, the guys made me go in to check the rooms, to make sure we didn’t leave anything. I saw this and took it without thinking,” he says and pulls a folded piece of paper from the wallet to hand to her.

She opens it with eyes crinkled to find a sketch of her done in pen.

“When I looked at it closer later I thought you should have it,” he finishes.

“I… um,” she stutters, her eyes glued to the paper. It’s only from her shoulders up, and it is rough, but undoubtedly her.

“You’ve brought out a part of my brother Pop and I haven’t seen in over eight years,” EZ tells her as she studies the sketch. “He’s not as angry or closed off. He actually even mentioned our mom the other day and we never talk about her.”

“EZ, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything, Mia. I know you guys are just friends, but I know that my brother feeling lighter, and it’s all because of you. I just wanted to thank you and give you this. It’s of you, so you should have it,” he insists.

“Thanks,” she murmurs while refolding it and putting it in her pocket. “He’s my best friend, the best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re the best he’s ever had too,” EZ tells her and stands, then offers her a hand. “Just don’t tell Coco, a fight might break out.”

Mia shrugs as he helps her up. “I don’t know, I think I could take him, he’s small, you know, and I have training.”

“I’d pay to see that,” he replies and they are laughing when Angel comes back.

“Aye, get your own girl best friend,” Angel jokes while slipping both arms around her shoulders from behind, making his little brother shake his head and walk away. “You ready to go?”

“I don’t know, but I am ready to cum,” she says then laughs at her own stupidity.

Angel turns her around and looks at her as if embarrassed for her before shrugging and lifting her over his shoulder.

“Ah! Angel!” she laughs with hands on his hips to steady herself as he heads for his bike.

“I’m just giving you what you want, mi dulce,” he insists. “Better yell bye to Bish, you’re gonna be busy for the rest of the weekend.”

Mia tries to take in her surroundings between the strips of hair blocking her vision, looking for her godfather in the upside-down masses. When she can’t find him, she just takes Angel’s advice. “Bye, Bop! I’ll call you tomorrow!” she shouts and the people around her laugh, Angel included.

“Alright, be safe!” she hears and raises a hand in acknowledgement at his double-edged meaning, but he has nothing to worry about. She’s on the pill and while Angel is in her heart, it’s not in a bad way, a way that would end in heartbreak like all her relationships do. He’s just her friend because anything more would fuck everything up and she isn’t going to let that happen.

Angel is too important.

*

It had just been a joke the day before, a flippant comment.

Mia had no real intention of putting on a bikini and teasing Angel as he mowed the grass, but—well, she did just buy one and it is hot outside and Angel isn’t one to turn down a beer, ever.

Him outside in a light pair of gray sweatpants and t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up didn’t help, his skin glistening in the California sun, hair free of its usual gel and so blowing gently in the breeze, and those dark shades on his face—it’s enough to make any girl weak in the knees.

Seconds later she’s running up the steps and digging through her shopping bags searching for the bikini Letty insisted she buy the day before. It’s a warm yellow with long strings that wrap and crisscross underneath her breasts before tying at her back. Instead of matching it with the bottoms, she jumps into her shortest black shorts that barely cover the slope of her ass. She throws her hair up into a messy bun before putting on some lotion, so her skin is extra soft and glowy, and envelopes her in a flowery smell, which she knows Angel is a sucker for.

Mia takes a beer from the fridge, cursing him for not buying twist offs as she searches for a bottle opener just as the lawnmower cuts off.

“Fuck!” she curses and decides to forget about opening it. If Angel actually decides to drink the beer while she’s wearing this they are going to share loud words.

She opens the door to the backyard to find Angel on his knees, his hands on the lawnmower, looking at something. He doesn’t look at her as pushes his sunglasses up into his hair before reaching for his phone and, she guesses, sends a text.

“I ran out of gas,” he calls over, his eyes trained on the cell phone screen. “Do you know if Bish keeps a gas can around?”

“No idea,” she answers while patiently waiting for him to look up.

“He doesn’t,” Angel confirms as he stands, his thumbs flying over the screen with a look of annoyance on his face. “He’s gonna send Creep with a gas can in a little bit, what’re you—” he stops as he finally lays eyes on her.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” she says innocently and holds the beer out, but makes no move to get closer.

His eyes look her up and down. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks with no heat.

“What’re you talking about?” she questions and shakes the beer a little. “Do you want the beer or not?”

“Fuck no,” Angel answers. “But if you don’t get in the house right now we’re gonna find out if grass really does burn.”

Mia drops the bottle when Angel starts after her, and she shrieks with laughter. He catches up with her in the living room, grabbing her around the middle and lifting her off her feet.

“You think it’s funny to tease me, hm?” he asks in her ear, his hands splayed across her abdomen now.

“You were teasing me first,” she counters and bites her lip as his hands attempt to feel every inch of her. “Wearing those sweatpants low and showing off your arms. I’m only being fair.”

“You think this is me teasing?” Angel demands of her as he makes his way to the couch, pushing her down onto it. “Nah, I’ll show you how I tease, baby,” he warns before getting on his knees.

In retrospect, she should have known Angel would take this as some sort of challenge. He always does, even if they are just playing around.

Later, she might think he does it as a way to prove himself, even if subconsciously, to show he can do anything she puts him up to because his parents never expected anything out of him the way they did EZ.

But now, as his buries his face between her legs, the psychology of it is far from her mind. Except maybe her own, how she’s a glutton for punishment, but instead of falling into old habits of shitty boyfriends she does this. It’s a healthier outlet, that’s for sure.

“Angel, baby, please,” she pleads when he pulls away after edging her for the third time.

“You think you deserve to cum, mi dulce?” he asks as he wipes her wetness from his beard and starts to leave wet kisses up her stomach and chest.

“Yes,” she breathes and gasps when he nips at her nipple after having pushed aside the cup of her bikini.

“But you haven’t been good,” he tells her before switching to her other breast, teeth scraping and tongue swirling, making her moan and mewl. A moment later he slips two fingers inside her and she sighs at the feeling of something filling her up, even if it’s not as big and thick as what she’s craving.

“I—I have,” she stutters out as she cradles his face in her hands.

“You think?” he asks and his fingers crook inside her just right making her tremble.

Mia nods. “Please, I want to cum for you,” she whispers and pushes her forehead against his. “Angel, let me show you I can be good.”

He smiles at her, it’s easy and carefree makes her heart skip a beat. “Do as I say and I’ll let you cum as much as you want, okay?” he starts and she nods up and down over and over until he starts rubbing slow circle on her clit as his long fingers slip in and out of her. “Say it.”

“I’ll do as you say,” she moans, her eyes struggling to stay trained on his.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs with a quick kiss. “You’re not going to cum on my fingers or my mouth, you’re not allowed to,” he tells her, and she wants to whine, but knows it won’t help her case. “Soon, I’m gonna get on the couch and you’re gonna ride my dick,” he says, and she nods once more, this time appreciatively. “And you’re gonna cum as much as you can when I’m inside you. I wanna feel you cum on my cock, you hear me? I want to feel every single one of ‘em. I want you to cover my cock in your cream.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” Mia agrees with her hands threaded into Angel’s hair.

“Then, when I think you’re done, you’re gonna get on your knees just like I am now and lick it all off me until I cum down the back of your throat,” he finishes.

“Yes, please. Angel, yes,” she pleads and pulls on his shirt in an attempt to get him on the couch, but all it does is make Angel remove his shirt entirely.

“Oh, baby girl,” he says with a lick of his lips. “I said ‘soon’ we’re gonna do all that, remember? I’m not done tasting you,” he tells her. “Until last night I went sixteen days without this, and I hated it,” he mumbles as his fingers start to play with her slit again.

Mia just closes her eyes and enjoys the feel of his fingers inside her, playing with her, torturing her.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby,” he mumbles against her skin. “Look at me,” he orders, and she forces her eyes open, but her eyelids remain heavy. “Feel with me,” he says, his voice much softer now, and takes her hand in his and brings it down to her opening. “Put your fingers in.”

She does as she’s told and her much smaller fingers slide in with no resistance, coating her skin in her slick juices. She moans at the feeling, but it’s nothing compared to Angel’s long fingers, and not even close to his thick dick.

“I want you,” Mia whimpers as Angel guides her fingers in and out of her. “Not me, I want—”

“I know,” Angel cuts her off. “Here, see why yours is my favorite,” he insists and brings her wet fingers to her mouth to taste. She opens for him and he smiles. “Good girl,” he murmurs as her lips close around her own fingers.

“Mm,” she moans at her taste and Angel smiles at her.

He leans down and takes a swipe up her slit and mimics her ‘mm’ before getting up on the couch and shucking his sweatpants off. “C’mere, baby,” he offers, and she jumps at the chance to swing a leg over his hips and settles down on his dick. “Fuck, I missed you,” he sighs as she sinks down on him. “I know I said it last night, but it’s fucking true,” he insists with his hands on her hips.

“I missed you too,” she replies as she starts to move frantically on top of him, chasing the release he’s been keeping from her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders for leverage, and she leans her head to rest against his. “Please, please, please,” she chants as she practically impales herself on his cock.

“C’mon, you can do it. I wanna feel the way you shake around me,” he says and it’s like a switch goes off inside her and she does exactly as he says.

She cums and her body shakes as her pussy trembles around him, but rather than let her come down Angel starts bucking his hips up inside her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she swears and buries her face in his neck as she comes again, not as strongly, but it still makes Angel cuss as she clamps down around him.

Mia’s still trembling when Angel shifts to lie down on the couch, his hands undoing the knot at her back so her bikini becomes slack. He slips it over her head and tosses it to the side before lifting her chin to look at him. “You done already, mi dulce?” he asks while pulling at the back of her knees so he’s even deeper inside her.

She moans, but shakes her head.

“You sure?” he wonders with a thumb circling her clit. “All you gotta do is tap out and get on your knees to finish this, baby.”

“I’m not done,” Mia says once she composes herself, then with a twinkle in her eye stands, hating how empty she feels, even if for only a moment, before turning around and settling back down on him in reverse cowgirl, knowing it’s one of his favorite positions.

“Yes,” Angel groans in pleasure, his hips bucking to get deeper inside her.

She leans forward with hands on her knees and gets her hips going, throwing her head back as she grinds down on top of him. Suddenly, she feels a tug at her scalp, and she’s pulled back against Angel’s chest, her back arched perfectly in the air.

With one hand in her hair, Angel uses his other to reach around and rubs his fingers into her swollen clit. “Where am I, baby?” he asks in her ear, his voice low and full of gravel.

“My stomach, holy shit,” she cries and cums, this time feeling a gush and she knows she’s creaming his dick like he wanted, and it only makes her hips move faster. “One more, one more, please,” she pleads with both Angel and herself.

Angel lets her hair go and both arms move to pull at the back of her knees so she’s folded in half, lifting her in the air as his hips buck up into her pussy. “You’re so fucking tight, baby girl,” he says with each plunge inside her.

Mia completely let’s go, letting Angel take the lead and relaxes the best she can in his arms, her pussy clenching on his cock as she readies to cum.

“Go, go, go,” he chants, and she does with a spasm, her whole body shaking as it does when Angel is deep inside her, pleasuring her over and over again.

She hears him grunt behind her and knows he’s painfully close, he has to be.

When he puts her down, she doesn’t hesitate. It takes all the energy she has left to get off him and turn on her knees, doing as she’s told and takes all of him in her mouth in one go.

“Fuck,” he swears with fingers threaded into her hair so she doesn’t move. “You taste yourself on my dick, querida?” he asks, and she nods as her head bobs. “Suck it all off, baby.”

It’s not even a minute later that Angel is emptying himself down the back of her throat as promised. She opens her throat and takes everything he gives her, swallowing his white heat.

When she lets him go with a pop, she finds his face looking completely blissed out as she wipes her lips.

“Wanna know a secret?” she asks while lowering herself on top of him, his arms automatically wrapping around her, holding their sweat slicked bodies close.

“Mhm,” he murmurs with fingers carding through her hair.

“Your dick is my favorite too,” she admits and hears him chuckle against her hairline.

Before her can respond they hear the loud roar of a motorcycle pulling up. “Fuck, that’s Creep with the gas,” Angel groans and flips so she slides down the side of him onto the couch.

“Have fun finishing the grass,” Mia sighs and feels a blanket being placed over her, making her smile.

“You think you’re real funny, huh?” he asks while hopping into his shorts.

Mia shrugs, then squeals when he tickles her side.

“Aye, Angel, you in there?” they hear as the door starts to open.

“Yeah!” her best friend exclaims and runs for the door before Creeper can come in. “Lemme take you ‘round back,” he says and stops the other Mayan from coming in.

Mia just smiles against her blanket thinking she’s a lucky girl. She’s got a best friend who can fuck her then get up and cut her grass. He’s definitely a keeper.

Taglist:

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[writes-eat-sleep-repeat]

TRICKS FOR TREATS

Paring: spooky x black!reader

Requested: No

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings : 18+, smut, sex, oral sex (girl receiving)

Summary: How Oscar spent his Halloween before it was interrupted by Cesar.

“Oh come on it’s Halloween” you said.

“No” your boyfriend protested

“Pleaseeeeee” you begged

“It’s not safe, you know that” Oscar answered.

“We aren’t trick or treating pendejo, were going to a party” you continued

“Please, please, please, please” you badgered

“Fine (Y/N), you can be so annoying” he said with a sigh Drawing a deep puff from his joint finishing it and getting up. You knew sooner or later whatever he was smoking would mellow his out enough to appease you.

You had been trying to convince your boyfriend for a week to come to the Halloween party your best friend was throwing at her place. It was your first Halloween since Oscar was home and you wanted to spend it with him. Sitting on the porch of the santos hangout spot, otherwise known as oscars place you stared out onto the lawn where Oscar had moved to sit on a crate and started doing bicep curls. You started thinking about what it was like before he had gotten locked up. How he and your friends would all pile up into your mothers house on Halloween to eat candy, pizza and watch scary movies knowing freeridge would be far to dangerous to tread the streets on foot seeking the booty of candy. A sadness came over you knowing all these years had passed and Cesar and his friends had to take up the same tradition as a way of avoiding their own deaths on what should be a fun holiday.

“BEEEEPPP” you were snapped out of your thoughts by a car horn. Your grey eyes meeting oscars intense brown ones you had not realizing at some point Oscar had stopped working out and had began staring at you quizzically. “BEEP, BEEP, BEEP” the person in the car honked three more times causing you to look in the direction the noise had come from. It was Mia. Your best friend. You and oscars oldest friend as well, dating all the way back to kindergarten. “Hey” she yelled out the passenger side window. “You, coming or not” she continued. Thats the plan you thought in your head. You held up one finger towards her signaling for her to give you a minute. As you ran inside to grab your purse and began to walk towards the car you stopped when you heard Oscar behind you clearing his throat. You turned to give him a peck on the lips to let him know you weren’t upset about his ‘annoying’ comment he made earlier. You were so used to not having him around it had become weird for you to remember to say goodbye or even greet him at times.

While you were pulling back up to head to the car his long fingers wove their way to the back of your neck gripping your the tight coils at the base of your neck that had become loose from bun piled on top of your head, as he pulled you back down into a more passionate kiss. First with just your lips slightly open then coming deeper as your tongues began weaving around each other, in an intricate pattern, slowing and intoxicating it wasn’t long before your knees felt slightly weakened and Mia began blowing her horn again and you heard the other santos cheering the leader on making ooh and aww sounds. Finding enough strength you pulled back. With one final peck on his lips “see you later?” You asked. Oscar answering with a slight nod, picking the weight back up to return to his workout. “Did you guys need a room? Are you good on oxygen?” Mia teased as you settled into the passenger side of the car. “Shut up” was all you could manage to let out while lightly shoving her shoulder closes to you.

To be honest your brain couldn’t process anything other than the kiss you had just been blessed with. After four years of Oscar being locked up you had all but turned your sex drive off as a coping mechanism, you two were best friends who had started dating and you know he didn't ask you to wait for him for eight years, he would never ask you to put your life on hold like that. And you suspected when he stopped responding to the letters you would send three years in he was hoping you would forget about him and move on. It’s not like you didn’t try. But, it proved to be more difficult than you anticipated. No one wanted to mess with spooky’s girl, whether he was around or locked up. No one wanted those problems. Becoming content with everyone treating you like a pariah until you graduated and finally left freeridge and started life anew. You definitely did not expect Oscar to get out early or to still even want to be with you, but being around Oscar as best friends had been second nature for so long, it was the one thing you felt secure in, you both just fell back into your old routines. Some new routines had been implemented as well. In the bedroom, the shower, the kitchen- “(Y/N), hello” Mia bought you out of your thoughts. “Red or Black” she was asking holding up a pair of bunny ears. “I’m wearing red, you know that’s oscars favorite color” you responded. “And Oscar is okay with you being a playboy bunny?” She asked, one curious eyebrow raised. “Well.. umm, we didn’t necessarily discuss costume selections” your own eyebrows furrowing. He wouldn’t have an issue with your costume you thought to yourself. Why would he, besides you were going to the party together. Why would he. “okay, black it is”she finalized. You felt your phone vibrate and looked down to see a message from Oscar reading:

“Bunny ears?”

Confused you lifted you had and began looking around only to see him walking towards you with his right hand man sad eyes following closely behind. He wore a grey t-shirt and black shorts, the bottom reaching just the top of his long socks. Black was your favorite color on him. But you couldn’t deny grey did just as much justice on his six foot, one inch built frame. “Why?” You asked. “Sad eyes, wanted a mask for the party” he said in a matter of fact tone. “How?” You continued. “He texted Mia, I wasn’t following you...Yet” he mocked. You responded with an eye roll. Knowing he disliked them and found them somewhat disrespectful. To your eye roll you notice him squint his eyes deviously. “We are gonna go look at masks” Mia said while simultaneously grabbing sad eyes hand pulling him with her. You had all but forgot Mia and him had a little fling a while ago along the lines of friends-with- benefits. To bad they never took it seriously they were so cute together.

You felt a sting on your right butt check causing you to yelp drawing you out of your thoughts to see the perpetrator. It was none other than your boyfriend looking of into space hands clasped behind his back as if he did nothing. “Why? You questioned. Rubbing the sore spot. Collapsing the space between you he bent down to look directly in you eye before whispering in your ear “ I don’t like when you roll your eyes at me, you do something I don’t like, i do something you don’t like” he vowed. Moving back to look in your eyes “Who says I didn’t like it?” You challenged. Cause it his own eyes to open just slightly before he regained control. He then looked past your shoulder and with a Smirk grabbed you hand dragging you to a small dark room within the store. Above the doorway there was a neon green flashing light that read ADULT. Once in the room he began browsing, there was everything Adult related here porn, Toys, Whips, Cuffs, etc.

Oscar looked at a few movie covers, while you looked at him as you were still standing in the doorway, walking in a circle scanning the room he stopped in front of the toys section and motioned with a nod for you to join him. You walked over, looking from the toys to him and asked “why are we here”. “ I want to buy you something” he said, his smirk returning full force. “Well,... I don’t need a vibrator, I have like five at home” you confirmed. You couldn’t see clearly in the dark room, so it was hard to gauge his reaction. “Five??” He questioned, sounding more shocked than anything else. “Oh, please. You were locked up for four years, you wanna lie and say you didn’t masturbate not even once?” You asked defending yourself. With a small shrug of his shoulders, he continued to browse the toy selection. “What do you masturbate to?” He asked after about five minutes of silence. “Huh” you said. “You heard my question” he said. “What?” You answered with raised eyebrows. “I wanna know who you think about” he stated. “Would you look at that, there is no way that can fit inside anyone” you tried changing the subject while eyeing a 13 inch toy. “Your deflecting” he continued. “I’m sorry what was the question.” You asked. “WHO. DO. YOU.THINK. ABOUT. WHEN. YOU. USE. YOUR. TOYS.” he repeated taking a step closer to you with each word, his voice becoming more boisterous with each one. At this point he had you pinned between an bookshelf erotic fiction next to the shelves of toys and his body. “Oh, that was the question” you said.

Him sighing in response. “Ummm, why does it matter?” You asked.”that wasn’t an answer” he said his gaze becoming more intense with every minute that passed. “Well, fine then, you go first” you challenged. “You” he said.”What?”you asked quizzically. “I think about you” he continued. “Every time?” You still questioned. “Yes”he answered “Oscar we sleep together, why would you masturbate to me” you answered baffled by his answer. His current eye roll, coupled with a long sigh indicated he wasn’t going to answer your question and he was becoming agitated with your delayed answer. “Mines is you too”you answered half confident. With dead eyes he responded “your lying”.“Fine, its weird though and you have to promise not to laugh”you gave in. “Most of the time IT IS you, but when it not it’s.... Eric Northman” you whispered the last part. “Who?” He asked. “He’s a vampire from a show” you responded exhausted with the conversation. He began laughing which caused a heat to rise to the cheeks of your dark skin. “Great, now can i be done embarrassing myself” you tried to move away but he only came in closer.

This time the intensity of his stare stirred up a heat in you that only he can. The room being so small and dark making everything seem so much more intimate. You were sure he would kiss your lips but he turned your head slightly pressing tiny pecks from right below your ear to your neck. “How are we gonna rectify this problem” he said with his kisses now being dragged across your collar bone. He knew that was your spot and you two hadn’t been together for a couple days due to him being on runs for the past few nights. You were both and edge and in need of immediate release. “Don’t leave me by myself so much” you answered breathlessly. “No, No I don’t mind you touching yourself, i just cant have you thinking of anyone else, because this- he dragged his hand up your thigh resting rubbing his thumb back and forth- is mines” he finished. You were basically becoming undone before him and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. “Right?” He continued. “Yes” you dozily responded.

He was still trailing light kisses along the base of your neck you so you barely noticed him reaching for something behind you on the shelf. “This is how you're gonna make it up to me” he smirked. Your eyes flutter open to see him holding a small rectangle box reading; vibrating Panties. Remote controlled. “What’s that for? You asked. “Your redemption” he answered giving you his fifty kilowatt smile, dimple included. “Okay for...after the party?”. It still wasn’t making much sense to you. “Nope, for the party” he responded triumphant. “Ummm, yeah no. I’m not and I repeat NOT wearing that to the party tonight” you said. “You’d think someone who fantasizes about the undead would be more adventurous”he taunted you along. “Adventurous equals risk which equals potential reward, what do i get out of this exactly?” You challenged him. you could see him weighing your words in his mind. “Hmmm, your right.... one week.” He said “one week?”you raised a curious eyebrow. “One week with me, uninterrupted. No Gang anything, no cuchillious, just you me and whenever you want to go ” he wagered. Since Oscar has been home you have never had him to yourself for an extended period of time, he’s always either doing something for cuchilloos or meeting with her. Damn if you think about it she sees him more than you do. “What’s the catch? You wearily ask. “Nothing, you just wear this tonight. -ummm, OK ( you began to answer )- but, you cant cum, no matter what” he finished. His stance as always, cool under pressure; but in his eyes he had a look that could rival the devil. And there they are, the strings magically attaching themselves, you thought. “So, the only challenge on my part is not to orgasm?” You nervously laughed.

Both you and Oscar knew how sensitive you were in that particular area. “Your probably right, it maybe to much for you, we both know how sensitive you are down there” his words confirming your earlier thoughts. He also knew you were competitive and he had you right where he wanted you. “What’s the cut off time”you asked. “Let’s call it midnight” he said. Finalizing the deal with a handshake you two made your way out of the room and to the cashier to make his purchase. “Where have you guys been, we’ve been looking for you; oh did Oscar Find a mask” Mia exclaimed right as Oscar took the bag from the boy behind the counter. “We were looking around and yeah he found something” you answered. You four hurried out the store to say your goodbyes Oscar handing you the bag with your gift as the two santos headed on their own way as you and Mia went on your way, with her first dropping you at your apartment to get ready for the party.

Sanding in front of the wall length mirror in your room. You stood staring at yourself wide, eyed and excited for what the night had to offer. You had been curious about the testing the bullet that came with the package to see how strong it maybe. To potentially try to prepare yourself for what lies ahead. When you went to look in the box you realized the remote was missing. Slightly to your disappointment, however the overall feeling you had was relief. You instantly text Oscar to let him know his plan wasn’t going to work for tonight.

‘Hey’

‘Sup, mama’

‘The remote was missing from the box. So no playtime tonight :(‘

‘Oh no’ he responded

‘Yeah maybe next time, too bad i as really looking forward to that week. Which I should still get because the remote missing isn’t my fault’ you smiled triumphantly at your phone

‘It’s cool, i just found it in my back pocket. Couldn’t have you testing it out without me ;). You want that week bad huh? Earn it’

His last text wiping the smile clean off your face.

‘See you in a bit mama’s” he finished.

Looking at your phone he was right it was already almost 7 and the party started at 8. But since you were helping Mia host she told you to get there around 7:40 meaning Oscar would be here in a half and hour. Putting on your ‘gift’ first you couldn’t help but notice the precise nature of the bullet that nestle right into your intimate folds the head which is usually the most powerful siting right on your bundle of nerves. You finished putting on your costume, fishnets, bustier, and tiny shorts covering just enough of your plump backside to not make Oscar too angry but still short enough to make him sweat a little. As your were putting on your three inch heels trying to stay as close to playboy tradition as possible you heard oscars impala beeping for you outside. You grabbed your wristlet, the bag of candy you had bought and headed out to his car. At the halfway point between your house and the car you an instant powerful vibration, more than any of the toys you owned overtake you causing you to crumple forward. Your neighbor who was walking her dog noticed and began calling your name in response. Oscar turned off the remote just as quickly as he turned it on. Allowing you to catch your breath enough to answer her.

“Misses Harper, hi I’m fine, just.... cramps” you lied. she nodded an okay and turned back to her task at hand while you climbed into the passenger side of the red car. “You okay mamas, Oscar asked with a smile. “ You asshole. You couldn’t wait for me to at least get in the car” you scolded. “This car?” He asked. “No the other car-” your snarky response being cut off buy him turning on the remote again. Causing you to lean back trying to control the lower half of your body. Oscar knew what game he was playing only allowing the lowest vibration as to not end the competition too early. He coupled the vibration with rubbing his long skilled fingers up and down your fishnet covered thigh making sure to hit the inside portion of your thigh with every sweep. By the time you got to the party you were dry heaving and Oscar was just getting warmed up. He turned off the remote giving time to fully compose yourself before heading into the house. Himself finding his few friends from the gang to hang with.

Once the party was in full swing you had been dancing, socializing ,drinking along with everyone else and all but forgotten you even had the vibrating panties on until you were in the middle of a taking a shot with Mia and felt that powerful vibration come right out nowhere causing you to almost choke on the liquor and drop the plastic shot cup. Looking around you spotted Oscar of the other side of the room with sad eyes and two other santos members. He wasn’t even looking in your direction, but must have felt you staring at him because he turned to you and offered a simple wink before Turing back to his conversation. You didn't want to walk over there to him and you didn't trust yourself to go into any room alone because you were sure you would initiate your own release.

You decided to head to the middle of the dance floor and deflect some of your energy to that. Mia and a couple other friends going you. With every song you danced to Oscar would increase the level of the vibration and by the fifth song you were about to let go right there in the middle if everyone. You knew he was smirking but you would not give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction, not even once. You make your way to the back deck where there was less people hoping the cool air from the night would offer your head some clarity. You closed you eyes leaning against the rail for support releasing silent whimpers. You heard people shuffling off of the deck. Then you felt level six.

This might be it. At this point you were seeing white dots behind you eyelids. Then you felt someone press up against you, well something. Already knowing who it was before you even opened your eyes. He started planting soft kisses along the side of your neck along with smoothing one hand across the length of of your stomach and breast while the other up and down the inside o your thigh. In a world of bliss you let your head fall back allowing Oscar further access to your neck, chest heaving heavily, while you soaked in the feeling ready to give in when the vibrations stopped. You turned around glaring at Oscar who had that smile on. “Why?” You asked glaring at him. “Nights not over babe” he laughed. As you rolled your eyes in frustration. His smile was replaced with a hard line, him squinting his eyes at you and the vibration picked up where it left of causing you to collapse forward holding onto him for support. Bringing you right back to where you left, he bean to kiss you. Passionately raw and chaotic on your end. Controlled on his end as he gripped your neck with one hand from behind guiding you, he raised the level one more time, and you were sure this would be it. And just as you were there he turned it off. Leaving an absent of bliss and in its wake trailing disappointment and need.

How is this not affecting him,“Stop”you demanded. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”he questioned. “No” you said under your breath. “You lying to me again” he raised his eyebrows. “Oscar” you began defending yourself, but was once again cut off by him Turning the bullet on again. He continued this vicious cycle for what felt like eternity but was only ten minutes, stopping only when Mia came walking over towards you guys. “Hey, you guys could use the bedroom you know” she teased. You being to spent from Oscar edging you could only offer a small smile to your friend, no verbal response. “Or are yo Already finished” she asked. No, you thought to yourself, your dick of a boyfriend wont let you finished. Hmmm Dick. You giggled. Oscar looked Down at you confused before Turning to your oldest friend “actually we were about to go” he confirmed. “Cool, cool, thanks for coming” she finalized eyeing you as you offered her a wave in return. You walked off the deck and through the party Oscar holding you around the waist carrying you to the door. Who knew just almost getting an orgasim could be so exhausting.

You two walked like this all the way to the end of the block where his car was parked. As You went to get in the passages side “Backseat” was all he said. Moving the seat to the front an sliding into the back you barely sat down before Oscar grabbed you up to straddle him. So i was affecting him you wore a smirk of your own. Even with the bullet in your folds you could feel he was packing wood. Probably just as much on the brink of exploding as you were. He turned the remote back onto level one, just enough to keep you excited. You were over this and he had to pay for what he did to you back there whether you win this thing or not. So you took the lead. This time kissing his neck staring from the base of he Santos cross he had on his neck. Tracing kisses all the way to him teardrop tattoo purposely avoiding his lips. You could feel him growing with every kiss you planted.

He turned the remote up; level two. You turned over, so your plum backside sat on his lap, your back to his chest, taking his hands you carefully guided them over your perky double D breast. Him, anxiously peeling away the fabric that restricted them, until they were free and he began kneading them with his hand paying particular attention you your nipples. While he did this you took your time grinding down onto him vocalizing your pleasure, just how he likes it, a mixture of moans and whimpers. Feeling him now fully hard stretching the front of the khaki shorts he wore. When he couldn’t take it anymore he flipped you back over to straddle him again, increasing the level of vibration “I know what your doing” he said. “Good” you responded and continued grinding down on him. He grabbed you with both hands on either side of your face into a fiery kiss, both of you trying to nibble each other’s lips, your tongues doing their own dance. You pulled back and saw it i his eyes. Lust, it must have been in yours as well because he switched gears forgetting the remote entirely he took your nipples into his mouth one by one causing you to through your head back against the front seat letting out a loud moan, the sound causing his dick to twitch in his pants.

You leaned back forward going in to kiss his neck some more. Him looking for his wallet undoubtedly to get a condom. When you heard his phone vibrate once, then again him slowing down his kisses to look at it. You figured it was something santos related and pushed the phone down to the seat out of his line of sight “not now” you mumbled into his neck. “It’s Cesar” he responded. “Why? Cesar is at the shut in” you replied. “No he’s at Brentwood.” He clarified. Leaning back with a loud sigh to express your frustration you asked “Why is he in Brentwood?”. “I don’t know, but something happened. We gotta go mama”he replied. “Is he shot?” You asked

“No” he said

“Is he in danger of dying?” You continued

“I don’t know” he responded

“So can it wait, because I don’t think i can”

He looked at you exhaustedly before lifting you off his lap to get into the drivers seat. “It will be fifteen minutes tops, don’t worry mama you’ll get your vitamin D” he laughed. You meanwhile scurrying to fix your top back and move up to the passenger side. “I might die from a deficiency”you pouted in his direction. “You cant die from a vitamin D deficiency” he said winking while smiling in your direction showing that damn dimple. You crossing your arm across your chest and your legs in response. “What exactly is you plan here” you asked, attitude on full blast as he approached Brentwood. “Handle the situation” was the response you got. You rolling your eyes towards the window. “ i know you rolled your eyes” he said pulling up to what you guess was the kids house.

Before jumping out the car. He turned the bullet back on and up to level four. Leaving you whimpering, squeezing your knee’s together trying to combat the feeling that was overcoming you. You felt the knot in your stomach as you began grinding down on the bullet, eyes closed and just as you were there the vibrations stoped. Opening your eyes you saw the shadow of Oscar leaning against the car waiting for what you guess was Cesar and his friends as they walked out of a house bags full of candy. You got out of the passenger seat glaring at Oscar as you let Cesar, Ruby and Olivia into the back seat, the other two friends opting to take a Lyft. Oscar said nothing as he got in the drivers seat and blasted his music, no doubt to hide the sound of the vibrating bullet which he had turned on again. The ride home was quick but torturous . As you let off two of the three teenagers at ruby’s house. Bringing Cesar to the his own home. As you begin to walk towards the house behind Cesar, it for once being free of roaming santos. “Nights not over mamas” Oscar said watching you while he leaned against the top of the car. “Oscar I am physically done” you answered. “Get in” was all he said.

You dragged one Heavy foot after another until you climbed back into the red impala. He drove to a lookout point over the Brentwood . A somewhat woodsy area at the edge where you could see the whole city, the lights twinkling like a reflection of the night sky. I was a breathtaking sight and not many people knew about it you hadn’t even known about it until Oscar took you there a couple days after he had gotten out. Oscar put the car in park and went to lean on the hood. You following his actions. As you came around he turned towards you lifting you up and placing you gently on the hood. Kissing you again, picking up right where you left off. Tongues thrashing against each other, you grabbing oscars biceps, him expertly kneading your breast in his hands. Pushing you back as he hooks his hands into you shorts and the panties waiting for you to lift your body so he can pull them down. Once they are off he has full view of you and what you guess was a glistening mess.

He pushed you further up onto the hood of the car, bringing feet up until your calf and thigh touched. Holding you still with his strong arms he wasted no time kissing your thighs moving lower and lower alternating slowly and agonizingly, moving from one thigh to the other he would slightly blow on your sensitive bud causing you to squirm under his expert touch. Then he finally, began paying some attention to your most sensitive part he went into over drive, quickly flicking it to get momentum, then weaving his toughest between your wet folds you were in bliss. At some point between his long licks from the bottom to the top while he circled your bud with his tongue and him sucking while gliding his mouth up and down, that knot retuned causing your thighs to vibrate viciously. “I’m...I’m gonna... cu...cumming” was all you could say as all that pent up sexual tension erupted deep inside of you sending spikes of pleasure radiating through you entire body leaving a withering whimpering mess on the hood of the red impala as Oscar mercilessly continued sucking and flicking. You trying to push his head away to end the onslaught.

He moved up grabbing you by the neck with one hand to bring you towards into a kiss, you being further turned on by your own taste. He dragged you down the hood until your ass rested right on the edge wasting no time he drove the full length himself into you full force leaving you gasping for air as he filled you slamming his lower body to yours again and again. Nibbling on you neck, you relished in this, you waited so long all day. Hell all week you thought . His pace began to quicken and you knew he was almost about to cum. He expertly adjusted the angle you were leaning at so the head of his mandhood brushed right against your G-Spot with every stoke. Within the next couple of minutes your legs began to shake again and you felt that knot again. “Cum for me baby” he whispered into your ear and that was your undoing, his own not following far behind. You leaned back on the hood of the car completely drained as he leaned forward resting his head on your chest, both of you trying to catch your breath. After about ten minutes you got up putting your shorts back on minus the panties, heading into the car to go home.

Oscar following your actions looked at the dashboard “its 12:30” he say in a matter of fact way. “I guess that means I won” you smiled at him. Knowing he let you win. “Don’t worry I know a couple of things we could do for one uninterrupted week” you said resting you hand on his upper thigh. Shaking his head in amusement he just smiled at you dimple and all.

[starrynite7114]

things you never knew: three

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I kept writing and writing, and here we are with 5000 something words. The story is definitely starting a little slow, so many secrets and questions popping up, but I promise, things are going to pick up soon.

If you guys ever want to discuss the story, please feel free! I love questions! <3 

I also added new characters on the characters post, please check it out!

Also, requests are still open if you would like to make a request! 

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“Please Theo, I just want to go home.” Ailee sobbed, as she held her stomach, on her knees, head against the concrete. 

“You have no home.” Theo spat out venomously. “How can you be the best at Maquina if you’re going to long for home? Personal relationships exhibit weakness, they give your enemies a target.” He looked at the four men that surrounded Ailee. “Again.” 

The four men approached Ailee one at a time, Ailee was able to defend herself, and take a few down. That was until there were multiple people who attacked her, then Ailee was back on her knees, holding her stomach once again. She coughed, blood coming out of her mouth, her whole body was aching.

“This is your home till I see fit, till you’re prepared to be the best in Maquina.” Theo stated. “Who do you want to go back to? Angel Reyes?” Theo chuckled, shaking his head. “He is a waste of space my darling sister, you have no future in Santo Padre with him. You have romanticized this life with the Reyes’, but let’s be honest, you don’t fit in that life. You belong to this world, to keep the balance of power as your uncle fondly tells you.” Theo scoffed. “We can take over the world Ailee, we can have the governments of this world pleading to have us on their side, to have us manufacturing weapons of mass destruction for them. Do you not want that for me? For me to be able to bring back honor to my family’s name?”

Ailee did want to help her older brother out, but this was insane. She wasn’t cut out of this, she didn’t want to be a monster. 

“What did I tell you?” 

Ailee remained mum, not saying anything to Theo. She didn’t want to be here. This was the last place she wanted to be. She was only supposed to be here for a few weeks, but when she arrived, Theo took her passport and her cell phone. She couldn’t even contact John and Vince and it frightened her, but she didn’t let it show. Theo pounced on fear, and she tried her best to not be afraid.

“What did I tell you?!” He yelled out, hitting her with the stick he held in his hand. She fell to the ground, her forearm holding her up as best as she could.

“Fear is a concept for the weak. You have to face your fears in order to become the best.” She repeated his mantra in a monotone voice, three months of pain and suffering sinking in. She terribly missed Angel. Her saving grace, her fucking Angel. Whenever she thought about killing herself, ending this miserable life, she thought of Angel. His stupid jokes. His stupid smile. His warmth. The way he would hold her whenever she had a hard day at the academy. The way he would tell her that everything was going to be okay when a thunderstorm frightened her. The way he would make silly faces at her while she was eating dinner with his family, her family.

She fucking missed him.

He was the light at the end of her tunnel. 

If she focused on that, she could survive this fucking hell. 

“I’ve done everything I can for you since we were children, Grace. I’ve always taken care of you, made sure you were okay, read you bedtime stories, it was all me. When you were here, you were free from the scrutiny and hardships your parents put you through. All I’m asking is for you to give this training your all, to beat John and Vince.” Theo squatted down in front of her, lifting her chin up. He slapped her, blood spurting out of her mouth. She couldn’t even cry, the tears only further aggravated him. “I’m doing this because I love you.” He took his phone out, a live-stream of Angel at the scrapyard was on his screen. “You don’t play by my rules and I’ll kill him. See, as I’ve said, personal relationships are a cause of weakness.”

Ailee felt her tears welling up again. She looked down, taking a deep breath. She stood up, and looked up at the four men before her. Theo saw the way her face hardened, smirking at the victory he achieved.

“Again.”

=============

Creeper watched Ailee as she unloaded her SUV. He heard the grand opening was in three days and he wanted to check on his younger cousin. He’s given her space since her release from jail, but like Angel said, she was an adult, she had to handle adult conversations. But somehow he knew that wasn’t the issue. 

“Are you just going to stand there or are you at least going to help me?” Ailee’s question broke him out of his trance, giving her a sheepish smile. 

“I got you.” He took off his gloves, picking up a box from her trunk. Walking inside, he was surprised to see a few people inside working, they looked at him, greeting him so uniformly it was creepy. 

Ailee walked in behind him, raising an eyebrow as to why Creeper stopped.

“Creep, why the hell are you blocking the way?” Ailee questioned.

“Didn’t know where to bring it.” He turned to her. 

“Counter.” She nodded her head forward.

They both placed the boxes on the counter and went back outside. Ailee sat at the trunk of her car, watching her cousin slightly pace in front of her. Creeper was her cousin from her father’s side. His mother was Jin and William’s half sister. She was the middle child in between them. They got on well and Creeper has been a part of her life since she was younger. Truth be told, he was one of the few members of her dad’s side she was fond of. He was a good dude and was loyal to a tee. He was always so kind to her. Whenever she would get in trouble with her parents, she would sneak over to his house which was just a house over and let him distract her with stupid shit he would do.

He also taught her how to box to release pent up aggression she had. Ailee was taught to keep her feelings to herself, to not show your emotions as it was a sign of weakness. Due to this, when she would become angry, frustrated, sad, whatever negative emotion, she was never truly able to show it. Instead of letting her brood, he would take her out, taking Angel along and letting her box. Sure, maybe him and Angel were punching bags along with other people at the gym, but Ailee needed it. 

“How are you?” Creeper questioned. 

“Good, just busy with setting up the shop. How are you?” Ailee began to slouch, and she immediately corrected her posture, feeling the smack of the stick one of her trainers used to carry around whenever she would slouch. 

“Slouching is a sign of laziness, improper posture is not allowed for an agent of your caliber. Fix it, it will help you in life later on considering all the injuries you have sustained.” 

Prim and proper, that’s how they were supposed to be. Always clean shaven, hair tied in a ponytail, no messiness. It was a dress code, which was comical to Ailee, but she figured there had to be a code somewhere.  

“We have a run tomorrow. I just wanted to check on you. I know we’re far from forgiven, but you have to know that we tried to see you multiple times.”

Ailee’s eyebrows furrowed. She kept hearing that, they tried to see her yet it never happened. “I doubt that. Felipe saw me, so did Jin and Theo.”

“Theo? Your psycho half brother?” 

Ailee nodded her head tensely, recalling how her brother visited her a few times and remembering how uncomfortable and irritating it was. He wasn’t allowed on American soil, yet, he risked it to see her. It was idiotic and there were so many times she wished he was caught. For some reason, he was always evading the authorities. He was only on their radar if he stepped foot on US soil, he technically didn’t have a warrant on him since he hasn’t done anything to catch people’s attention. Selling weapons to lowly Eastern European countries didn’t really alarm government officials. Who didn’t sell weapons to militant groups? When he starts having bigger clients then that’s when the problem arises. But with him seemingly using a rebel group too close to the border, that’s when things changed. Rebel groups against the cartel were unpredictable, their loyalty was fluid, much like the governing governments of the world. If you fit their purpose, then they were loyal to you. 

“Yes, and before you ask, I don’t know how he got to American soil, he just did.” Ailee shrugged. “Look, I think we can all just move on, whether or not you attempted to visit me or not, it’s no longer my concern. I’ll stand clear from you all and you stand clear from me.”

“You know we can’t do that, Angel wouldn’t agree to that.” Creeper knew how much Angel was itching to confront Ailee. From what he heard, he already did and he met her boyfriend, Alexander. He was almost sure that information was incorrect and Angel was just being dramatic. Any man around Ailee was not accepted by Angel. 

“Well tough shit, Angel doesn’t really have a choice does he?” Ailee scoffed. “It’s my only request primo, please respect it.” She knew this was an awful request, but she could keep tabs on the Mayans without actually being involved with them. There was too much history and hurt to actually work with them. Ailee wasn’t willing to face that demon, facing that would cause things to resurface she long buried.

“Angel isn’t going to give up on you. It’s been five years, that’s enough time to get past grievances.” Creeper knew it wasn’t but Ailee blocked them off, how could she be angry at that?

“Let me ask you something, if you took the fall for the MC and they never visited you, would you welcome them with open arms?”

“Of course, there must have been a reason why they didn’t and we did try to visit you, you shut us down.”

“I didn’t have a ‘no-visit’ list. If those other people were able to visit me, then how were you not able to do so?”

“I don’t know Lee! You fucking tell me!” Creeper was frustrated. It was like going around in circles with Ailee. “We tried, we really did, but you made it very apparent that you didn’t want to speak to us.”

“Look, there’s no point in arguing about things. Like I’ve said, let's all move on.”

“Lee, you were never this heartless. I get it, you’re upset because you feel like we’ve abandoned you, but I can guarantee you we didn’t. We’re family.” Creeper knew Ailee could hold a grudge, but this was different. She couldn’t hold this against them all. 

“Family is such a strange concept. One abandoned me and the other uses me as a weapon to serve a purpose that is a joke to be honest.” Ailee scoffed. “Look, again, my stance is quite firm. Let’s all be cordial, but otherwise, I want nothing to do with any of you.” 

Before Creeper could reply, a voice interrupted them.

“Heads up.” 

He looked to where the voice came from and it was Alex, Ailee’s childhood friend. What surprised him was the little girl, five years old at most running towards Ailee. He watched as Ailee jumped out of the car and opened her arms for the young girl.

“Baby!” Ailee kissed her cheek, lifting her up. “This is Tio Creeper, this is my daughter, Melody.”

Creeper tried his best for his mouth not to drop open, the shock of being introduced to Ailee’s daughter shook him. The little girl looked just like Ailee, but she didn’t have Ailee’s hazel eyes, she had brown eyes, much like Angel. He couldn’t believe this, Ailee couldn’t have had a child while she was in jail. Money talked, he knew that, but he doubted that Ailee would have a kid with Alexander while she was in jail. 

Nothing was making sense. 

He noticed the hearing aid then, eyeing Melody curiously. “She can hear?”

“Yes, of course she can. She’s just more comfortable with signing still because she thinks her voice is weird.” Ailee kissed the implant on her baby’s forehead. “She’s fine. Baby, come on, say hello, Tio Creeper would love to hear your voice.”

“Hello,” Creeper did note that her voice didn’t sound normal, but she was adorable. She hid her face at the crook of Ailee’s neck. 

Creeper noticed Alexander appear behind Ailee, the little girl reaching for him. 

“I got you babe,” he picked her up, kissing Ailee at the top of her head. “Creep, nice to see you.”

“You too man, didn’t know you were allowed outside of Europe.” He knew the business the Leon’s had. Regardless of their real estate venture, cocaine still made their world go around. 

“Helps to be attached to this one.” He nodded his head towards Ailee. “I’ll leave you two.”

“It’s fine, Creeper was just leaving.” 

“Does Angel know you have a daughter?” Creeper knew those brown eyes anywhere, he’s been brothers with the man for years and known him before that due to Ailee. 

“Why would he need to know?” Ailee gave him a look, but he could tell that she wasn’t comfortable, that being back in Santo Padre was biting her on the ass.

No one could hide anything in Santo Padre, especially not from the Mayans.

“Well for one, that kid looks like Angel.” 

“She isn’t Angel’s kid, she’s my kid.” Ailee countered. “Why does she have to be Angel’s kid if she’s my kid?”

“So she isn’t your actual kid?” Creeper was beyond confused. He had a hunch that Ailee was never inside, it was all but confirmed for him. Jin would never have let Ailee remain in jail. Hell, her brothers would have never let her remain in jail. How could he be so naive to think they would do so? He knew Ailee was upset, but there was no way she would have them in a ‘no-visit’ list.

“That’s none of your business. She’s my child. There are plenty of people with brown eyes primo, stay away, this is your only warning.” Ailee took her child inside, Alexander following after her. 

He had to do some digging, but he was going to need some help. Taking his phone out from inside his kute, he dialed the number that he knew could help him.

“You busy?” 

Melody looked nothing like Alex. She was Angel’s kid and he was going to get to the bottom of this.

=============

Olivia walked out of her apartment, frowning when she saw Kevin across the street. She unlocked her car and watched as Kevin walked over to her. 

“EZ hasn’t been answering my calls.” Kevin informed her.

“And this concerns me why?”

“Don’t be difficult Liv, he needs to check in with me, you know this.” Kevin sighed. “I’m still trying to figure out how you managed to get this deal for him.”

“I know people.” Olivia shrugged. Kevin was such a lowly agent, he could never know of the existence of Maquina. Hell, only high ranking officers knew of their existence and even then, it was a hand selected few who knew of their existence. A shadow organization that helped the balance of power in various regions of the world.

“You must know high ranking people.” Kevin always tried to pry on what Olivia did for a living. He knew she headed an IT department for some company, but Olivia always kept him within arms length. Much like EZ, he’s known Olivia too yet, she was very hesitant to be alone with him. “Who do you know?”

“Doesn’t matter Kevin, if you nail Galindo, it’s beneficial for your career and keeps EZ away from jail.” She placed her things inside her car, turning to face Kevin. “I don’t see why there is a need for you to know who my connections are.”

“What happens to EZ when he serves his purpose?”

“Whatever he wants.” Olivia didn’t understand his question. EZ could do whatever he wants. “He could just tell the MC that this wasn’t the life for him and go from there.”

“You’re not worried he’s going to go back to Emily?” Kevin knew that Olivia had feelings for EZ. Only EZ didn’t seem to know she had feelings for him. 

“That’s none of my concern. EZ is a big boy, he can do whatever he pleases.” Olivia slammed the door to the back passenger. 

“After everything you’ve done for him, don’t you want him to at least return the favor?”

“Kevin, I didn’t do this so EZ could pay me back. He’s my best friend, I’m glad I was able to,” she sighed. “I want to help him. He can get his second chance in life, he’s far too brilliant to rot in prison.”

“Just tell him to call me.”

“Sure will.”

She watched as Kevin made his way back to his vehicle. She slid in her car, locking it immediately out of habit. She’s had a few close calls and would rather be safe. 

Olivia wasn’t going to lie. She wondered if EZ would go back to Emily once Miguel was in jail. He most likely would.

His first love.

Love of his life.

Olivia chuckled, shaking her head. She gave those hopes long ago. She deserved better than waiting for someone who would never see her. 

“Once this is done, you should come back to Spain.” She recalled Jin telling her. “Your talent is wasting away in Santo Padre. Ezekiel will be safe and can start over, you’ve given up so much for Ezekiel. It’s time to move on.”

Jin was right. It was time for Olivia to move on. She deserved a happy ending as well.

And maybe it was with Nathan, Alexander’s younger brother.

Olivia parked behind Carniceria Reyes, turning her car off and sliding out. She wanted to stop by before she spent the rest of her day at the coffee shop.

She knew EZ would be there.

And like she predicted, he was there with his father. 

“Mija, you’re here.” Felipe fondly greeted her.

“Hey pops.” Felipe refused to acknowledge her whenever she called him Mr. Reyes. He said they were family and she agreed. Her real family was basically non-existent. The family that she recognized 

“Hey Liv,” EZ greeted Olivia, giving her a quick hug. 

“Kevin came to see me.” 

EZ frowned. “Why?”

“You’ve been ignoring him, he wanted you to call him.”

Before EZ could reply, he heard a motorcycle making its way down. He watched as Angel stopped in front of the Carniceria.

“I’m going to tell Kevin to stop approaching you.” EZ didn’t feel comfortable involving Olivia in this whole ordeal. He told Kevin time and time again that his point of contact with him would be his father, not Oliva. He knew of the crush that Kevin harbored for Olivia ever since they were children, but Olivia was off-limits, Kevin knew that, he made sure of it. 

“EZ, it’s fine, he just wanted to make sure things were okay.”

“Let me rephrase that, I don’t want him talking to you. He’s putting you in danger.”

“Be reasonable, he’s hardly doing that.” Olivia wanted to tell him that her life was always on the line. That whenever she went to Europe, it might have been the last time she would see EZ when she visited him. Sure, she wasn’t a field agent, but the work she did for Maquina was immensely valuable. Taking her out of the picture would greatly blind Maquina.

Felipe had to hold back a chuckle as he saw how bent over Ezekiel was about Kevin approaching Olivia. Whenever they would have family parties and Olivia attended, Kevin was always far away since Ezekiel did not like how much Kevin tried to impress her. Olivia never seemed to mind Kevin’s presence, which further irritated Ezekiel.

“He’s staying away from you, that’s that.” EZ walked out to meet with Angel. 

Olivia looked at Felipe and sighed. “I’ll just go and say hi to Angel.” She walked out, Angel whistling as she did. 

“Knew there was a reason God wanted me to come to the carniceria.” Their flirty banter was always fun, but Olivia knew it was nothing, hell it was nothing to her and everyone knew who Angel belonged to.  

“Shut up Angel.” EZ put on his helmet. 

Olivia laughed. “Keep your brother safe.”

“Yes mom,” Angel winked at her. “You know I got him.” 

“You coming to give me a hug?” EZ opened his arms. 

Olivia shook her head and hugged him. She loved hugging EZ. It always brought her comfort when she was young and there was no difference now. When she first picked him up from prison, it was such a satisfying feeling. She hugged him tightly and he ended up sleeping over her place that night, catching him up on all the pop culture things that she could do in one night. Ever since then, EZ slept over often and they would just watch endless television shows. 

Currently they were watching Stranger Things, almost caught up with the series. 

“Be safe.” She kissed his cheek.

“Of course, we have to finish Stranger Things.” He smirked. 

She watched as the two brothers drove away. Looking across the street, she saw Alexander outside, shaking his head. The smirk on his face made her chuckle. Alexander was the older brother she never wanted, but she was truly glad to have him in her life. Crossing the street, she made her way towards Alexander, shaking her head. 

“Knew you couldn’t stay away.” 

“You know me, wherever she goes, I go.” Alexander shrugged. “Nathaniel will be disappointed to know you’re around Ezekiel again.”

“Nathaniel isn’t my boyfriend and even if he always understood my relationship with EZ.” Olivia walked in the cafe, a smile immediately spreading across her face. “Melly!” She fondly called out to Melody,

Melody turned around, smiling as her eyes landed on Auntie Olivia. She ran up to her and Olivia caught her, lifting her up in her arms. “Look at you, you’re so big now.” She kissed her cheek. “Mommy is going to be so much nicer now cause you’re here.”

“Haha,” Ailee shook her head. “Liv, did you get the tickets for the Safari Park?”

“Yes, I emailed them to Sierra last night.” Olivia was pretty sure she did, especially since Ailee wouldn’t stop bothering her about it.

“Sierra did get it and I emailed it to both of these difficult people.” Sierra Ayala, Alexander’s assistant and right hand woman replied as she walked towards them. “If you two actually checked your emails, this wouldn’t be an issue.” 

“You’re the best Sierra.” Ailee bowed to her. “We’re all going right?”

“Yes, I figured it would be nice to give everyone a break.” Olivia placed Melody back on the ground. “We can get an AirBNB there and enjoy a few days off after the opening?” 

“Sure, that sounds like a plan.” Alexander agreed. “Sierra, mind booking it for us?”

“It’s what you pay me for.” Sierra teased. “Would you mind if I skip out? I have friends and family in Los Angeles I would like to visit.”

“Sierra, why didn’t you say so? Alexander can handle his vices for the next week. Take the time off, spend time with family.” Ailee suggested. “I can have one of the trainees tend to Alex’s needs.”

Sierra looked apprehensive with Ailee’s suggestion. She’s been on vacation before, but the longest she had been away from Alex was about a week and half before she came back. She was antsy. Alexander was an adult and could handle himself, but she also knew how disorganized Alex was, how terrible he was at checking his calendar. Even though she got a temp while she was gone, she knew how unbearable Alex could be. 

“I see that look, I’ll be fine.” Alex promised her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I know I seem helpless, but I promise I’m not. How much trouble can I get with going to the zoo?” 

Ailee, Olivia and Sierra gave Alexander a look. Alexander rolled his eyes and took Melody. “Come on Melly, we’re not appreciated here.” He walked away, leaving the three women laughing. 

“Is everything in place for Alexander to take over or is Nathaniel and Victor making noise?” Ailee questioned Sierra as they all took a seat around the table.

Sierra placed a tablet in front of Ailee. “Nathaniel doesn’t care much for the illegal side of the business, he however wants to manage the real estate side. Victor, well, you know he has his own business.”

“Matchmaking is hardly a business.” Olivia chuckled. 

“It’s working for him.” Sierra shrugged. “Alexander is poised to take over, but Nathaniel switches his mind every once in a while. Though, it doesn’t seem that their father would hand the business to Nate anyway.” 

“Why, Nate is competent enough.” Olivia had a soft spot for Nate. He was her first boyfriend, the man who made her see a life away from EZ, but they broke up a year ago since Olivia didn’t want to make the move to Spain as he had been requesting.

“Nate also acts on impulse and is not very business minded. He doesn’t think of the long run and thinks of the short run.” Ailee knew that handing Nate the business wouldn’t benefit the Leon’s especially since he wanted to break ties with Maquina, believing they were limiting their potential. “And he wouldn’t keep the relationship with Maquina, which, you know, to each their own.”

“He thinks that they would be fine without Maquina’s protection.” Sierra confirmed Ailee’s words.

“Without our protection, they would be indicted.” Olivia frowned. She knew Nate always just thought that everything was so simple and Olivia couldn’t blame him. Everything was handed to him, whatever he wanted, his parents gave to him. He thought that they were untouchable, that this deal was for Maquina’s benefit, but that was hardly ever the case. 

Maquina swept in before a government agency could indict a certain crime organization, offer them immunity and the ability to continue their operations with no government interference, as long as they remained the most powerful organization in their area, keeping the balance of power and unabling any other organization to take over. It seemed simple, but it was complex. 

It didn’t always work out.

There were eastern european countries that had too many players in the game to truly fully control it, but Maquina had some strongholds in Poland and Romania. Otherwise, every other country was still free for all.

Maquina’s purpose was so fluid. On one hand they were used to assassinate government officials to install a new power. Then other times, they were implanted to empower rebel groups to overthrow out of control regimes. There truly was no black and white in this world, it was whoever benefited who. 

But the Leon’s had a stronghold in West Germany, Spain, and Italy for the last thirty years. With Alexander taking over, they expected for it to continue, even if they were trying to become legit, which was a hoax. 

No one ever went “legit”. Illegal work was always so much more beneficial. 

=============

Creeper parked his motorcycle under the shaded area of the yard, right beside his Hank’s motorcycle. His eyes landed on Vince, as he ate chips atop the picnic table. He knew that Vince was in town as well, which was never a good thing. Two Maquina agents in one place was far too many. It meant that they were implementing a program here, which meant that something or someone has piqued their interest. 

“Creep, this is a sudden phone call.” Vince finished off his chips, crumpling it and making it in the trashcan a few feet away from the picnic table. 

“Something isn’t adding up.” Creeper didn’t want to beat around the bush. Ailee was his younger cousin that he always protected. It killed him to not be able to see her while she faced this jail sentence. He didn’t know how to help her and all he wanted to do was just that. 

“Numbers wise? I don’t do book keeping, you know this.” Vince knew why Creeper called him over. Maybe he was laying devil’s advocate, but he didn’t give a fuck. It was time the Mayans found out what was going on. He was never onboard about keeping them in the dark about Ailee, especially not Angel. 

“Your sister seems haunted.”

“She was in jail for five years.” 

“You know what I mean, that’s not jail.” Creeper sat beside Vince. “Come on, we were all close once. It killed me knowing she was in there. She was the little sister I never had. Be truthful with me, you know you could trust me.”

Vince sighed. He retrieved the folder he was sitting on, handing it over to Creeper. “All the information you want, you need, is in that folder. John and I figured that it would be best for us to be as honest as possible.” John thought it was best to set up life for Ailee after Maquina. Once they took care of Theo, both brothers wanted her away from Maquina. What better place to stay than her safe haven?

“She has a kid?” Creeper questioned.

“Melody is here?” Vince was surprised that his niece was in town, but he figured Alex brought her along. Melody only could be apart from her mother for so long. 

“Is she Angel’s?”

“No, Ailee adopted her from an orphanage in Europe.” Vince explained. He understood Creeper’s confusion, the kid did look like a mixture of Ailee and Angel. But as far as he knew, the kid was adopted. Ailee brought Melody home one day, explaining she was from an orphanage in Spain. “Not Reyes’ kid.”

Creeper eyed him, but ultimately chose to move on. 

“Your sister wasn’t in jail was she?”

“I’ll be back with John later tonight, might want to share that with your brethren.” Vince got off the table, making his way over to his car.

“We have a run later.”

“Tomorrow then.” 

“Vince, why is Maquina setting shop in Santo Padre?”

Vince chuckled. “Why else would we set up shop? There’s a threat that has to be controlled.”

“Galindo?”

“We have bigger cartel’s to worry about before we worry about the Galindo cartel.”

“Who is it?”

“We don’t know yet, but we’ll keep you all updated.” Vince unlocked his car.

Creeper watched as Vince’s car disappeared, sighing. He opened the folder and his hunched was confirmed. Ailee’s release date stated December 14, 2014. Closing the folder, he made his way inside the clubhouse.

“She was never in jail.” Creeper threw the folder down at the table where Angel, Bishop and Taza were sitting. 

“The fuck you mean?” Angel questioned. 

“Vince dropped off all those records right now. You guys saw him.” Creeper sat beside Angel. “She was in jail for that initial two weeks, but otherwise, no other fucking records.”

“That’s fucking impossible.” Bishop had to play charade. He knew Ailee wasn’t in jail, he didn’t make a deal with her uncle for no reason. “Your father saw her.”

“That was during her first two weeks.” Angel looked at the records and she was booked in the jail, her release date was what fucked him up. “It says her release date was December 14, 2014.” 

“Exactly. Ailee was arrested around Thanksgiving when we had that run to Vegas. She was released two weeks later.” Creeper knew something was off. Ailee didn’t even look like she had a hair touched on her head. She looked hardened as if she was in jail, but it wasn’t for survival. 

“Jin most likely bailed her out, using his connections.” Creeper, Taza, Hank and Bishop knew what Maquina was, the rest of the members didn’t, not even Angel. They knew that Jin was a powerful man, but they just had their guesses as to why he was so powerful. Creeper knew of Maquina, the details, not as much, but he knew not to fuck with them. They could make anyone disappear. One call, and it was done.  

“She made a deal.” Angel looked through the paperwork in front of him. It was her release forms. “Jin bailed her out, this is his signature.”

“Well if she made a deal, what could it possibly be?”

It dawned on Angel that whatever business Ailee’s family was involved in, it wasn’t exactly safe. He remembered when they were younger, how Ailee was always in physical activities that involved fighting. Her parents were very adamant that she learned how to defend herself, get good grades and not interact with many people. She was always in her books, books that kids her age at that time shouldn’t be reading. Angel always thought that her parents were strict and rarely let their kids have any fun. Ailee was a very affectionate child, but she was always rejected by her parents. The only time she could enjoy any affection or praise were from his own parents. It was weird how his parents seemed to understand Ailee’s hardship along with her brothers. 

Ailee always said that she didn’t want to get in the family business, it cost your soul, she had told him. But it seemed like that’s what happened.

“It’s her soul. She exchanged her soul for freedom.”

[sig-nifier]

the men in this town (live and die)

for my guy @redvsvblue in the rt writing community! enjoy the heist shenanigans

When people think of a heist they think of flashy suits and even flashier get away cars. They think of tension, of a harsh voice yelling commands over the whip of a bullet. It’s Los Santos - they shouldn’t expect any less.

However, this is not how the Fakes came to power.

The Fakes came to Los Santos in a blaze of laughter and daring. They had heists with no escape plans and no weapons - they even completely free-styled once, but all decided that one was a bit too dangerous.

It was the confusion they liked, the delayed reactions of officers due to shock, the absolute chaos that came with every news article. If it brightened the city and entertained themselves, you can bet they’ve done it.

Which leads us to the present day.

Six men stood round a table, blueprints laid out and weighed down at the corners with three mugs of coffee and one cup of tea. It was an easy enough heist - steal a priceless necklace from a jewellery store and get out before the LSPD started breathing down their necks. It was a particularly high class area of Los Santos, so a simple to follow, nothing-could-go-wrong plan was in need.

“Let’s all swap gimmicks.”

Surprisingly, it was Michael’s voice that jumped from ear to ear and broke the serious atmosphere that had been created.

He shrugged when five faces continued to stare at him. “This place has been serious for far too long.”

Gavin’s squark of a laugh rang out in a single note accompanied by the clap of his hands. “Top! Whose who?”

“I’m the Vagabond.” 4 voices spoke in unison.

“You’re too lanky to be the Vagabond, Gav.” Geoff spoke up, arms crossed as he watched the inevitable chaos that was soon to be their plan start to form.

Gavin rounded on him, arms flailing as he gestured wildly to the rest of the crew. “Me?! Jeremy’s half the size of Ryan! Michael doesn’t have the right build either and Jack’s too f-“

He cut himself off, but Jack hadn’t missed the beginning of the word. The older man stepped forward, blunt amusement clear on his face. “Too what, Gavin?”

“Uhh, just-“

“Yeah, Gav, why couldn’t Jack be the Vagabond?” Jeremy cut in, clearly picking up on the joke.

“I think you’d be great, Jack. Truly terrifying.” Michael clapped Jack on the shoulder, a shit eating grin on his face as he watched Gavin gawk at them all.

Ryan, who’d been silently watching this exchange and wondering how his shtick had ended up the centre of the conversation, ran a hand down his face and sighed.

Geoff clapped a hand down on the Vagabonds shoulder. “What do you think, wanna give us some makeup tips?”

“It’s not makeup.” Ryan began, but was quickly drowned out by the four other voices that picked up on the easy bait.

“Does it have to be a skull or can I have, like, a butterfly?”

“I’m thinking just a full face of blue.”

“I reckon the Rimmy Tim colours would look great.”

“Maybe I’ll do glow in the dark and have it come out of the eyeholes.”

Geoff grinned at the chaos he’d created, knowing Ryan would like nothing more to dispose of them all and find a new crew elsewhere.

“This is going to ruin my reputation.” Ryan mumbled, lifting his mug and allowing the blueprints to curl up at the corner.

-

Surprisingly, this heist was one of their most successful.

It was the confusion that did it. Having six Vagabonds meant the LSPD saw one of them at every turn.

Ryan dove undercover, the familiar pump of adrenaline drowning out the fear that came with the rush of a bullet past his head. This was his favourite part. He liked the start of a heist, when the feds first show up and think they have a chance. He liked the cocky remarks and the generous pull of the trigger before both sides started to value their ammo. He lived for the disappointment on the cops faces when he danced just out of their reach.

A body crashed down next to him and though he couldn’t see their face under the leather mask, Ryan had no doubt they were grinning. You’d think it would be easy, telling apart the crew despite their identical outfits, and sure, up close he could pick them apart from their breathing patterns but it wasn’t quite as easy with bullets raining down from every angle. Despite this, there was no mistaking those tattooed hands.

“You seeing this shit? They haven’t got a clue what’s happening!” The glee in Geoff’s tone pulled a low chuckle from Ryan, both of them checking their clips and ducking lower as another round was sent their way.

“This’ll be one for the books.”

“And to think you were against this whole idea.”

Ryan shrugged. “I’ll admit it has a certain..dramatic flare that I can appreciate,” he nodded his head to the left, “which one of us is that?”

Hiding behind one of the LSPD’s cars was another Vagabond, rising up on occasion to shoot back at the cops that had him pinned down. From this distance it could have been any number of the crew.

Geoff leaned forward, glancing around Ryan to get a better look. “Gavin, maybe? Or Michael.”

They took some time to sit back and watch their friend, pistols heavy in their hands as they ignored the chaos that surrounded them. The figure eventually pulled out an object, throwing it over the car and running in the opposite direction as an explosion rang out seconds later.

“Michael.” They confirmed in unison.

A shower of metal rocked the car they were up against, smashing a window and sending glass down on their heads. Geoff shifted his position, getting ready to move.

“I’ll go right, you take the left.” Ryan nodded in response, dropping back into his serious heist mode as he too turned to find another cover. He felt a clap on his shoulder, heard the running of feet and then he was moving, the wind drowning out all other sounds as it whipped past his ears.

The heist ended pretty quickly after that.

Jack took a bullet to the shoulder, Jeremy almost took a knife through his throat but there was always a Vagabond there to get them out of trouble. Gavin had lost his mask at some point and whilst the face-paint did well to cover who he was, the wild blonde hair was a bit of a give away.

They escaped in a range of vehicles, Michael and Jeremy piling into the front of a truck whilst Jack gave the LSPD hell from the back. Gavin and Geoff ended up together on a fast looking bike and Ryan stuck to the alleyways, running in circles until he was sure he wasn’t being followed. Being on foot, Ryan was the last one back to the penthouse.

It was odd, walking in and seeing five Vagabonds scattered around the room. There was once a time where he wouldn’t have shared this with anyone, would’ve tracked down whoever dare imitate him and make sure there wasn’t even fingerprints to identify them by, but somehow these five idiots had wormed their way into his life and made even the Vagabond a part of him that he didn’t mind sharing. Everyone had shedded the masks, face-paint smudged from sweat and struggles with the feds.

“Solid success, that.” Gavin grinned, hands on his hips as he looked around the room.

“Says the one who wasn’t shot.”

“It’s just a scratch, you’re fine.”

“Just a-“ Jack began, half rising out of his seat before wincing and lowering himself back down, voice dropping so only Jeremy beside him could hear. “I’ll give you a scratch.”

Michael turned as Ryan entered, a grin on his face that leaked adrenaline. “There he is - the OG. You have fun?”

“If you call destroying my image fun, then yeah, I had fun.”

Geoff clapped a hand down on his shoulder, an action that Ryan realised was starting to become a trend, and squeezed it reassuringly. “Relax. Everyone’s terrified of you, this won’t change a thing.”

Despite the warm hand weighing down on him and the familiar grins that came from around the room, Ryan wasn’t so sure.

-

Two Weeks Later

The rest of the crew were in the middle of an intense game of Ultimate Chicken Horse when Ryan walked in, pulling off his mask with a huff.

Geoff was quick to pause the game, frowning as he stood and approached his friend. “What happened? They didn’t take the deal?”

There was a mumble of a reply that Geoff couldn’t quite make out, the rest of the group crowding round to hear too.

“Don’t flub, Ryan.” Michael teased.

The older man closed his eyes and sighed, a pained expression crossing his features before he spoke up once more.

“They didn’t think I was the real Vagabond.”

The silence that followed held a cautious humour in it’s noise, nobody wanting to be the one to break it.

“Apparently I’m ‘too tall’.”

It was Jack that laughed first, spit flying as he spluttered and doubled over, a hand coming up to wipe away tears from under his glasses. Gavin followed fast, leaning heavily on Michael who was stuck in a silent laugh with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Geoff was the loudest of all of them, a contagious cackle that had even Ryan fondly rolling his eyes at the situation. Jeremy had so far been able to keep his composure, though the twinkle in his eye showed he was close to cracking too. He moved round, reaching up and clapping a hand down onto Ryan’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we’ll send me next time.”

The sound of Ryan’s groan was drowned out by the laughter that engulfed the room.

[detectiveguapo]

Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes [ISFJ] - The Defender

EZ Reyes has a beautiful mind and a beautiful heart, so why is he here? People are always telling him his future is brighter than anything Santo Padre could ever provide, and EZ has been conditioned to believe this. He spends most of the season vindicating this claim about himself so he can have a purpose after he finishes his ‘temporary’ run with the M.C. It’s not until late in the season that he starts to come to terms with where his mistakes have led him. When he ultimately chooses to stay and prospect for the Mayans M.C., it’s not submission to his underlying fear of worthlessness; rather, it’s about acceptance and control of his new, chosen path.

Strengths: sincere, generous, observant, patient, loyal, hard-working

Weaknesses: naïve, overloads himself, represses his feelings, reluctant to change, too self-sacrificing

For most of the first season, EZ lies to the club about his deal with the DEA out of self-preservation. But it’s important to remember that EZ signed the deal on the condition that it wouldn’t cause harm to his brother and the M.C. In one episode, we see that EZ is willing to go back to prison if it means Emily isn’t used as a pawn to get to her husband. So, while EZ takes the deal to get out of prison early for himself, he ultimately struggles to maintain his obligations to the DEA because he’s too selfless and too protective of so many relationships at one time. There are several points throughout the season when EZ neglects his personal needs in favour of serving or protecting others — whether or not he’s been directed to do so by his superiors. 

EZ’s primary desire is to be of service to others — not necessarily to take on a provider role but to be a guardian to those who matter most in his life. When EZ cares for others, he listens, doesn’t make it about himself, and never seeks for anything in return. It doesn’t matter if one has a history with him (Emily) or if it’s someone he just met five minutes ago (Leticia), EZ’s empathetic and well-meaning nature drives him to help others. He’s so genuinely helpful and so invested in maintaining that reputation of reliability that he sometimes doesn’t realize how his well-intentioned actions can hurt him. 

Angel said, “EZ’s special.” He doesn’t belong in Santo Padre and he uses that family dream projected onto EZ to push his brother out of the club and out of the “dead fucking town.” Naturally warm and caring, EZ has an uncanny ability to notice small details — facial expressions, looks exchanged between two people — that allows him to, not only figure people out but also, show people he cares about them in a meaningful way. When Emily comes to him because she’s a mess from losing her son and she’s feeling isolated by Miguel, EZ lets her in and he listens to her. When Leticia shows up and Coco can’t immediately be there for his daughter, EZ steps up and asks for nothing in return. Coco recognizes EZ’s gesture of goodwill and rewards him for it by opening up to the Prospect when he’s normally so guarded. This innate ability to seem trustworthy is ironic given EZ’s situation as an informant. 

While it’s easy to notice EZ’s physical strength, there’s a quiet strength to him that shouldn’t go unnoticed. He doesn’t take crap from people even if they are authority figures; he has shown to answer back to law enforcement officers (Kevin and that off-duty cop at the casino) and Miguel. Often, when he bites back, it’s not even to defend himself but to defend groups that can’t speak for themselves in the moment (the M.C., the families victimized by the cartel). That being said, EZ also has a conventional approach to relationships — he understands his position in the club and respects the patch. While all prospects in the history of the Sutterverse have shown a degree of subservience to full-patch members, EZ displays a strong work ethic and never complains even when instructed to complete menial tasks (like recycling). He also shows a great deal of respect and reverence to his father, which can be attributed to him being the ‘good son’, but more interestingly it stems from his deference to traditional familial bonds. Yes, Felipe does take a liking to his second son, but EZ is also the son who frequently checks on his father and helps him out with chores that need to be done in the butcher shop. EZ doesn’t take his Pop’s favourable treatment for granted.

Functional Order: Si-Fe-Ti-Ne

His eidetic memory allows him to store data and information like no other character in the series. He’s able to take present conversations and images and contrast them with prior experiences, and we see that through the use of flashbacks. It’s important to note that these flashbacks are only from EZ’s point of view — it distinguishes him as the “gifted one”. These flashbacks are not only useful in terms of finding solutions to whatever problem he or the club might have, but it also emphasizes nostalgia as a driving force in his life.

Since introverted sensing is his strongest function, EZ is often seen expressing a great attention to detail in both past and present. His problem is that he has had a very clear picture of what his future would look like because of the way he senses his world around him; unfortunately, he cannot simply create his future the way he can recreate in his mind what has already happened. This makes his arrest and subsequent stint in Stockton even more heartbreaking because he’s the golden child of his town — a kid with so much promise — and he loses everything by making an uncharacteristically impulsive decision.

In the first couple episodes, EZ is seen using his gift to satisfy the needs of others. He remembers the BTT tattoo of the rival Samoan gang and gives away that information because he thinks it will help. He does the same when he tells Angel about the license plate in episode two — this time, finding a way to help Los Olvidados’ cause while still ensuring the safety of Emily’s child. Having an auxiliary Fe means he applies his understanding of a situation in a way that shows loyalty and dedication to the people that matter to him.

Tertiary Ti manifests when EZ steps away from his emotions and makes sense of things rationally. EZ has several moments when he lets nostalgic emotions get in the way of more immediate goals. He goes to the hospital to visit Emily even though he knows it would be a huge risk. He’s so hellbent on finding his mother’s killer, even going so far as to ask Angel for a gun, that he can’t foresee the consequences of vigilante justice.

A reluctance to try new ways of doing things and giving way to anxiety over the unknown can be attributed to an inferior Ne. At the start of the series, EZ’s mind is made up — he’ll fulfill his end of the deal (supply information on the cartel and only the cartel) and high-tail it out of Santo Padre. Prior to that, he was set on Stanford. He was set on the idea of becoming a self-made man with a legitimate career and a family with his high school sweetheart. When all of that goes to shit and he’s sidetracked to being an outlaw, EZ still sees it as a transitory move until he can focus all his energy back on clinching what he lost.

An immature inferior Ne manifests as a loss of control over facts and details, which then leads to impulsiveness and catastrophizing. As mentioned earlier, when EZ’s mom was killed, he was so rattled that he took all the ‘evidence’ he collected and directed it toward his pursuit of vengeance, resulting in him shooting a cop and ‘destroying’ his future. Eight years later, we see a maturity in this function when EZ makes the decision to remain a prospect for the M.C. and when he asks Bishop to replace Angel as his sponsor. While EZ reveals to Felipe his reservations to follow through with his brother’s request, he doesn’t consult anyone on this particular matter. He makes the choice to stay with the M.C. and switch his sponsor because it’s what he wants. He puts his wants and needs at the forefront. And although it deviates from his original plan, EZ has shown that he has finally gotten past the uncertainty and the fear of not living up to expectations and allowed himself to entertain the possibility of this new life.

[2whatcom-blog]

Keto Breads, Bagels, and Bars Can They Assist Your Well being

The ketogenic (keto) weight loss program is a well-liked ultra-low-carb weight loss program. In its most straightforward kind, following this weight loss program means you will need to all however eradicate each type of carbohydrate and eat fats as a replacement. The physique makes use of that fats for power, and when the provides run low, it then attracts out of your physique's fats shops for needed power. That results in weight reduction. The best ratio of macronutrients on the keto weight loss program is 75 % fats, 20 % protein, and 5 % (or simply 20 grams) of carbs. The emphasis for the carbs you do eat? Excessive-fiber plant choices like Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, and broccoli. Bread? Bye-bye. Bagels? No probability. Muffins? You may must miss them. That was, till the recognition of the weight loss program -- and the abundance of keto-friendly elements like almond flour and no-sugar-added chocolate -- led to inventive keto eaters and cooks discovering methods to substitute their beloved carb-rich meals for variations that had fewer carbs and nonetheless match their keto targets. Certainly, right this moment, for those who seek for keto snacks, you will be hit with a barrage of listings for keto-friendly bars, breads, cookies, and extra. The market is flooded with them, and so they present few indicators of stopping. However in a weight loss program that is designed to eradicate most carbs and most types of sugar, is there room for synthetic substitutes that mimic the meals you maybe miss? Sure and no, say the consultants. Here is why.

Are keto "cheat" meals wholesome?

One of many largest hurdles of any weight loss program, and particularly the keto weight loss program, is a deprivation mentality. For those who imagine you possibly can't have one thing, you might end up craving it much more. Keto "cheat" meals, proponents argue, might enable you fulfill these longings whereas not blowing your carb finances. "Keto-friendly versions of our favorite foods can most certainly be a part of a balanced diet," mentioned Amanda Maucere, a registered dietitian and nutritionist (RDN) for the Lung Well being Institute. "These foods can also help people benefit from nutritional ketosis for a longer period of time without feeling deprived of the foods they are used to eating," she added. That looks like a win. However not so quick, says Maucere. It's a must to be attentive to what you are consuming, past simply the web carbs you are consuming. "That said, the quality of the ingredients used to make these foods does matter. Just like with non-keto food products, you'll want to look at the ingredients list to make sure the food you want to eat is made with real food ingredients," she mentioned. "If what you find in the ingredients list is a long list of chemicals and additives, steer clear." Anthony Gustin, DC, MS, the CEO and co-founder of Excellent Keto, additionally suggests these meals aren't inherently dangerous as a part of the keto weight loss program, however you might need to keep away from those which might be extremely processed. "Studies have shown that eating highly-processed foods increases your rates of obesity, cancer, food addiction, depression, chronic inflammation, poor digestion, asthma, and allergy symptoms," he mentioned. "Since a ketogenic diet -- when done properly -- can actually help alleviate many of these ailments, it's counterintuitive to eat products with ingredients that can have harmful effects on your health." Specifically, Gustin factors out, keto "cheat" meals rely closely on synthetic sweeteners. Most types of sugar are wealthy sources of carbs. Synthetic sweetener choices have just about no carbs, which makes them technically keto-friendly, however they do not at all times get the thumbs up from medical doctors and nutritionists. "One of the biggest offenders is artificial sweeteners, which, in addition to contributing to the problems I mentioned, may also raise your blood sugar levels and blood pressure, increasing anxiety and causing GI upset," Gustin mentioned. Gustin explains that even for those who keep in ketosis, you are not ingesting wholesome elements. "All you're doing is giving your body chemicals instead of nutrient-dense food, causing you to miss out on some of the bigger picture benefits the ketogenic diet can provide," he concludes.

Low-carbohydrate junk remains to be junk

When a keto curious eater first makes the choice to drop the carbs, the affect to their meals selections is fast: Reduce out sugar, starches, pasta, and grains. Restrict greens. Give attention to fats. What these limitations typically do, with the steering of keto consultants, is put individuals ready to examine the standard of the meals they're consuming to make sure they're getting probably the most bang for his or her chunk. "In my mind, one of the biggest advantages to a ketogenic diet is that it forces a person to become more intentional about their food choices and often leads to a greater understanding of food and their relationship to food," mentioned Robert Santos-Prowse, a scientific dietitian and writer of "The Ketogenic Mediterranean Diet" and "The Cyclical Ketogenic Diet." "I'm concerned that the availability of low-quality convenience foods that fit in a ketogenic diet will eliminate some of that benefit and leave people no better off than before they adopted a ketogenic diet. Low-carbohydrate junk is still junk," he mentioned. Maucere mentioned there are easy recipes for keto-friendly consolation meals with out chemical compounds that may fulfill an individual's carb craving. "A good example of a real food, keto-friendly swap would be 'keto biscuits' made with almond flour, butter, cheese, eggs, cream, salt, and pepper," she mentioned. For those who make the meals your self, you see the elements and you'll really feel sure they are not mysterious. Then, on the finish, you possibly can really feel even higher sneaking in what actually looks like a "cheat" meals.

Backside line

If the occasional keto bagel helps you keep away from noshing on an actual flour-filled bagel, which will definitely pull you out of ketosis, the profit could also be optimistic. If that is what you've got each day for breakfast -- as an alternative of, for instance, a sausage-and-egg hash or egg-stuffed bell pepper rings -- then you might not see the advantages. "Just because something is keto-friendly does not make it healthy in the long run," mentioned Shana Minei Spence, MS, RDN, CDN, founding father of The Vitamin Tea. "Always check the labels first before falling into the trap of buying a product because of marketing." Read the full article

[brooklynislandgirl]

Ship meme: Beth and G.

All Hands || Accepting

who wakes up first in the morningShe wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing. The faintest whiff of cologne competes with the sound of freshly pressed linen. A fraction of a moment carved out of the heart of time that lingers between the still warm hands of sleep clinging to her skin and the taste of wine still lingering on her lips from the night before. This moment is weightless and without thought. It’s the one and only quiet moment of peace before reality comes crashing through. And part of her feels sad because she’s absolutely sure Garrett doesn’t have them.She senses his presence before she even opens her eyes, and he trails his fingers through her hair. The grin that comes in the wake of the gesture assures him that he hadn’t awakened her. “I took the liberty of ordering breakfast for you. Sasha or Mike will bring it up when it gets here. I’ve got meetings straight through til noon, an appointment with my PT, and I’m going to check on one of the guys that’s been missing meetings. Should be back before five, if your still here. We can grab dinner.  If not, just lock up, okay?”She makes an unintelligible sound.“Yeah, right back at you, Beth.”

who’s the first to fall asleep at nightDinner was casual, and uncharacteristic. Pizza for him and a large Greek salad for her because he doesn’t think one slice with nothing but cheese is good or healthy for her. She can stand to put a little meat on her bones, and he half wonders if maybe her husband doesn’t worry the way he does that he’ll blink and she’ll wither away. Of course she only laughs and pushes at his shoulder and he grins around the slice he’s biting at. Eventually he starts stealing things from her bowl; a tomato here. A chunk of feta there. A sliver of red onion to go with the sausage and pepperoni. Doesn’t say a word when she snags a piece of the next slice, examining the thin red circle of meat like it belonged in one of her petri dishes.It isn’t til hours later, well after they’ve finished and watch an old black and white movie on television that he’s laying on his side, head in her lap, small fingers carding through his hair that he asks.“When did you start hating meat?”She’s quiet for a long time. And he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.“One time, the Admiral was having a dinner party. Very formal kind of affair and I was sitting there at the table in a little white dress, blue ribbon around the waist, tights, white patent leather shoes, the whole works. We were served something that was breaded and covered in sauce and cheese and I didn’t know what it was. My brother told me it was veal. I still didn’t know what it was. I was three bits in and feeling a little queasy and then he leaned over and explained what veal was. I asked the Admiral if I could be excused and he refused. Ended up getting sick at the table. Kinda was put off meat from that moment on.”Garrett manages to fall asleep with the image of a very much smaller Beth in that dress stuck in his head and misses the rest of her story. And maybe that’s for the best really.

what they playfully tease each other over“Oh, big scary Marine! Getting his backside kicked by a boy only half his size. C’mon. You can do better!”She’s talking trash but she’s keeping a careful eye on him. The wrong move and...and she doesn’t want to think about it. There’s sweat darkening the grey muscle shirt as he bounces the ball, grips it between his fingertips and goes to fake the kid out. Santos falls for it and watches the ball sail upward in an arc, and through the hoop, net swishing. “Cheater!” the kid smirks and trots back.“Not cheating, you just weren’t paying attention. Just because your opponent is bigger than you doesn’t mean you can’t outpace him if you watch carefully. Isn’t that right, Beth?”She glances up from her knitting needles in time to catch a dark and sultry look. Suddenly he’s not talking about basketball any more. The blush and speechlessness give him his answer.Thankfully, the teenager misses the subtext.

what they do when the other’s having a bad dayShe can see it in his face before he even fully makes it in through her clinic doors and both jaw and stomach tighten. She doesn’t smell infection from the drainage hole she’s left open but she still doesn’t like it. Without a word she takes him by the hand and leads him back into one of the exam wounds.“You came...all the way down here, just to have me look at this?”“I trust you.”“Garrett-”“What? I needed to get out of the city for a while. My back’s been killing me, this-”“Looks infected.”“That too. And I just...Look, if you don’t want to treat it, I’m sure I can find another doc in town, but I thought it might be nice to see you, check in on my nephew. Maybe stay for Mardi Gras.”They stand maybe too close, one looking down and the other looking up. It’s more than wounds old and newer, that much she can see on his face. It the lines around his mouth, the bags under his eyes. She puts a hand on his hip, walks him toward the exam table. As she pulls on her gloves and he takes his shirt off. “So, what exactly happened?” she asks, tenderly probing the front of his shoulder.“Charlotte came by the office....”

how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments“I waited!”“Don’t you think you’re taking this a little...hard? I mean it’s not like I’m not calling now.”“I don’t care! YOU promised, G. YOU PROMISED.”He doesn’t know how such a small person can be so loud but he holds the cell away from his ear but she’s on a tear. He can only assume that her husband is out of the house or has gone deaf by now, and all it’s really doing is giving Garrett a headache. He waits until he can’t hear her any more and sighs. “I said I was sorry, it just slipped my mind. And I figured you’d understand.”Yep, understood enough to have hung up on his call. A thumb and forefinger come up to the bridge of his nose and pinch it tightly. Four breaths later, he’s calling his new PA. He’ll scour the City for lei flower...which he learned was also called plumeria. Maybe wax flower, maybe hibiscus. Orchids too, hot house grown if need be. Pay to have them shipped out overnight. G doesn’t often express himself in words, but he knows how to apologise through flowers.It’ll be weeks before she has the courtesy to apologise for herself. He doesn’t hold his breath, waiting.

which one’s more ticklish“...I can explain.”One hand is down on the ground beside Beth’s head. The other is slowing having assaulted the no-man’s-land between the bottom of her ribs and the flare of her hip. Her legs are scissored around the tops of his thighs. Their hair is a mess. There’s sweat gathered along his spine and in the hollow of her chest. Both his dark eyes and Beth’s stare up out of red faces as Riley slowly begins to fold his arms across his chest, his mouth twisted into a murderous grimace.“I’m waiting.”There’s a moment where Beth throws him under the bus and says nothing.“She’s....ticklish.”Riley shakes his head and starts to saunter toward the hot mess on Garrett’s floor.

their favourite rainy day activitiesGarrett’s watching a documentary that she is only half aware of, slouched on his end of the couch. A cup of coffee within reach, a little too Irish for her taste but it’s warm and chases feelings away. Her feet are in his lap because the cradle of his thighs are warm, and it’s touching without having to be any closer and she’s drowsily knitting something who’s pattern isn’t quite clear yet.It’s only a moment later that her hands still and her eyes widen and she becomes transfixed on the screen; not anything that was said because most of what they are saying is too fast and drownt out. No, it’s the image of the blue-painted plane, with beautiful wings.“Wha’...is...dat?” The whisper is full of wonder and she forgets English to a point.Garrett half smiles and glances over at her even if she can’t see him at all. “The F4U Corsair. One of the best Marine fighter planes in its day. Mostly used in the Pacific Theatre in and around the Solomons during World War Two. Beautiful isn’t she? This is about the VMF-214 unit. A.k.a the Black Sheep Squadron. Their commander, Greg Boyington used to choose the worst repaired Corsair so that his men wouldn’t have to chance it.”Garrett misses entirely the look she gives him.

how they surprise each otherThe ambushes become less tactical. Ever since the day she had introduced him to Tabby, she doesn’t jump him any more. Doesn’t really even intrude on his day to day affairs the way she used to. Instead, she has a new bottle of wine couriered over. Or a book she thinks he’ll find interesting. Emails him mp3s of some new Jazz band she found in the Quarter, or Indie sensation out of the Bronx.Month by month, she gets statements about how the group Garrett and Chester head up contributes to the clinic’s taxes and up-keep. Between them and Zarek, she’s finally operating in the black. Able to branch out a little, offer different services to the growing community.But the biggest surprise was when she was shutting down her second clinic, the one here at home, having assured Z she could make it back to the cabin without worrying about the rain. She might be cut off from one of her Spheres, but she still had complete command of the others.She went room by room in the old house, turning off lights and checking windows. She was in the foyer gathering up her scarf when the glass of the door took on a human shaped shadow as the lightning struck. She started to open it, a sweet smile on her face. “I told you, Kealoha, I could-oh. G. What...what are you doing here?”“I wanted coffee.”“In...N’orleans?”“Yeah. I hear they make it with chicory.”

their most sickening shows of public affectionHe slants a look over her shoulder that says this is not a good idea. It says he’s not sure he’s willing or ready for it.She grins. It’s just a tango. And just because her husband is watching, doesn’t really mean Garrett’s actually going to loose a limb.It’s for a good cause, after all.And while the midnight gaze behind her might put the willies in his water, it makes her feel like the most feminine and delicately priceless thing in the room.

[acsversace-news]

The first thing you need to know about FX’s American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace is that it’s not really about Gianni Versace. While O.J. Simpson—and his fame, his race and his abusive history—were central to Ryan Murphy’s true-crime anthology in its first season, this story focuses on the man who killed Versace and the society that aided in that murder.

The new season is based on Vulgar Favors: Andrew Cunanan, Gianni Versace, and the Largest Failed Manhunt in U.S. History, a 450-page tome the journalist Maureen Orth published in 1999. Much of the book is devoted to the life story of Cunanan, the 27-year-old spree killer who shot Versace in 1997. Her reporting is thorough and revealing, but much of her analysis is dated. When Orth explores Cunanan’s demimonde of meth, escorts, sugar daddies and BDSM, it feels as though she’s unaware that this milieu isn’t representative of gay male culture as a whole.

Especially considering that Murphy—who is gay and has created some groundbreaking queer characters—has also been known to perpetuate the occasional homophobic stereotypes, the interplay between the book and the series is bound to give us plenty to discuss. At the very least, Vulgar Favors is handy for determining which parts of the show are confirmed fact and which are purely conjecture. (I’ll also be using Deborah Ball’s House of Versace, a breezy history of Gianni, his family, and the brand from 2010, along with a few other sources.)

I don’t want to call these recaps “fact-checks,” though, because fiction doesn’t have any responsibility to stick to the official record. Instead, I’ll look at how the discrepancies between what Orth dug up and what Murphy depicts reveal the show’s real agenda. These pieces may take a different form from week to week, but since the premiere was mostly a reenactment of the crime and its immediate aftermath, we’ll start with some pretty basic background stuff.

July 15, 1997

Orth’s book ends with the death of Versace and the intensified hunt for Cunanan, who had already killed four men by the time he came to Miami Beach. American Crime Story begins with the murder and goes backward from there. It’s a promising approach, because the real suspense here is in the question of how the smart, charismatic, cultured young man we meet in flashbacks ended up on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.

The show sticks fairly close to the facts in recounting what happened on the day Gianni Versace (Édgar Ramírez) died. He really was returning home from an early-morning excursion to buy magazines when Andrew, played by Darren Criss in a performance that’s already riveting, gunned him down on the steps of his palatial home (more on that later). One bullet also killed a turtle dove—a symbol that initially led authorities to suspect a Mafia hit. While Versace’s longtime partner, Antonio D’Amico (Ricky Martin), stayed at the designer’s side, the couple’s neighbor Lazaro Quintana chased Andrew until Andrew pulled a gun on him. Versace was rushed to Jackson Memorial Hospital, where he was declared dead at 9:21 AM.

Cops really did spot someone who matched Andrew’s description on the roof of a parking garage around the same time, but he escaped. (Orth doesn’t mention them tackling the wrong man.) It’s not clear what he was doing later that day, when police found the stolen red truck Andrew had abandoned and he became the suspect. The scenes that show him changing into fresh clothes and watching gleefully as the media descends on Versace’s house aren’t just plausible; they underscore how easily Andrew blended in among the town’s gay beachgoers.

One character to keep an eye on is FBI agent Keith Evans (Jay R. Ferguson). The Bureau was searching for Cunanan long before he killed Versace, and Evans was its man in Miami. Sadly, he was also inexperienced and unfamiliar with the city’s gay community. Sgt. Lori Wieder, the lesbian cop played by Dascha Polanco, wasn’t on the scene that day, but the officers who were there did find boxes of undistributed Wanted flyers in Evans’ trunk. The scene where the pawnshop owner complains to police about the legally mandated transaction form she’d filed a week earlier, which included Cunanan’s full name, is another embarrassing real-life detail. But the emphasis Murphy, who directed the episode, places on Evans’ neglect of his assignment is crucial, because it’s the first suggestion that law enforcement’s homophobia—its literal fear of engaging with gay men—contributed to its failure.

October 1990

Did Versace really know his killer? Well, sort of.

It’s true that Versace designed the costumes for a production of Capriccio at the San Francisco Opera, and stayed in the city during its run in 1990. At the time, Cunanan was living rent-free in Berkeley with his friend Liz Coté (Annaleigh Ashford), who Orth describes as a “rich and spacey debutante,” and her husband, Phil Merrill (Nico Evers-Swindell)—the couple we see in the flashback. A fixture in SF’s gay scene, Andrew met Versace at a club called Colossus. But, Orth reports, it was the designer who approached him: “I know you,” said Versace. “Lago di Como, no?” he asked, referring to his Italian lake house. It was, most likely, a flimsy pickup line. Andrew, who’d never been to Italy but had also never heard a flattering lie he couldn’t get behind, went along with it. On another night, Versace, Andrew, and a local playboy named Harry de Wildt were spotted together in a limo.

That dreamy encounter after the opera, though? It’s pure fantasy, although Andrew was known to lie about his Filipino father knowing Imelda Marcos, owning pineapple plantations and having a boyfriend. What’s important here is the conversation about Andrew’s future. “You are creative?” Versace asks, and his date answers in the affirmative. In fact, the only things Andrew ever created were fictions about himself, passed off as fact. (I won’t get too deep into that, because his lying is sure to come up later in the show.) “I’m sure you’re going to be someone really special one day,” says Versace. The distance between Andrew’s ambitions and the life he ended up with—as well as the reasons why he was such a failure—is going to be important.

The Family Business

The episode’s strangest divergence from the facts comes during the same scene. Versace explains the history of his company’s Medusa logo, recounting that he first spotted the image while playing in ruins as a child in Calabria. In fact, as Ball notes in House of Versace, he borrowed his logo from a door knocker at the Milan palazzo he bought in 1981. Perhaps we’re supposed to suspect Versace is a liar, too, but I’m inclined to believe the line is pure exposition, a hint of the designer’s humble beginnings that will soon become relevant to Andrew’s story.

Meanwhile, Versace’s mourning siblings/business partners, Donatella (Penélope Cruz) and Santo (Giovanni Cirfiera) provide some insight into the company’s status in 1997. Poor Cruz, normally a fantastic actress, has a thankless role (and a distracting accent) in this episode. All she does is sob, scream and provide dry background info that writer Tom Rob Smith doesn’t bother surrounding with believable human dialogue. For the record, it’s true that Santo, the oldest Versace sibling and the company’s most pragmatic voice, wanted to take the business public. And Gianni, after accepting a large dividend to subsidize his lavish lifestyle, agreed to do so. The plan was to make an initial public offering in the summer of 1998. It never happened. Two decades later, Gianni Versace S.p.A. remains a billion-dollar private company. None of this is particularly interesting, so here’s hoping it becomes relevant to the Cunanan story eventually!

Gianni Versace’s Fucking Insane House

There isn’t much art in this workmanlike premiere, but it does begin with a shot of the clouds painted over Versace’s bed that leads to a lovely, nearly wordless sequence contrasting Gianni’s civilized morning with Andrew’s primal scream. If you paid attention to the Renaissance-style art and the stained-glass windows and the gold accents and the massive tiled courtyard, it probably occurred to you that Versace’s home was totally off the wall. (“If Donald Trump had taste,” I said to myself, “this is what Mar-a-Lago would look like.”) Surely it was exaggerated for TV?

Actually, it was not. Built in 1930, Casa Casuarina, as the home was known, was inspired by Christopher Columbus’s son Diego’s residence in the Dominican Republic. In the courtyard of the 20,000-square-foot villa were busts of Columbus, Pocahontas, Mussolini and Confucius (all of which Versace kept). After Versace bought the property in 1992, he spent a million dollars restoring it. An army of artists and artisans filled the place with murals, mosaics and baroque furniture. Versace published a typically bizarre coffee-table book about his many bonkers properties in 1996, and in it you can find photos of the family frolicking poolside at Casa Casuarina alongside busy interiors and shots of naked men ironing. My favorite page shows a close-up of a burger, fries and a milkshake served on gilded Versace china, atop an ornate gold table. America! If you can’t track down a copy, this Google Image search should give you an idea. Look, here’s a bare-assed dude with a lampshade over his head! See you next week!

[thats-on-point]

Focus Lost

 Authored by Ken Santos on Thursday, January 28th, 2020 at 7:00 PM EST         

     While we progress into the never ending struggle to be one country, there is one question that sits at the top of everyone’s mind in regards to the never ending cycle of impeachments. We can't but ask if the waste of American dollars on this circus is justified or are they just pushing the never ending hate the Democratic Party seems to keep delivering. The feeling of Americans seems to be frustration as we keep funding such a waste of a constitutional process, despite Biden himself saying it was not going to go anywhere. 

Knowing the current President's opinion, one cannot help but look on in confusion as he implies that it needs to happen seems despite his personal opinion that it is a useless and futile effort. With no real consideration of the lack of focus on the continuing pandemic, Americans have spoken and as a result Biden’s approval rating has already dipped below fifty percent. The lack of focus on funding a much needed relief package that must be put into the American pockets does not help matters.

This trend of blunders continues with the lack of vaccines being available for people who desire to take them. A blunder due to an inability to maintain storage standards which causes an overwhelming amount of vaccines to go bad. Instead of focusing on Biden and his Administration’s plan and process to rectify this,  all the focus is being pushed to the impeachment that has no bearing on reality or the future seeing as Trump is already out of office. The only reason to continue this negligent waste of resources is to ensure Donald Trump can never run for office again. This is nothing more than the establishment politicians wielding government power to silence their opposition and instead of getting solutions to our issues we are given a display of fascism.

Now looking back to reflect on their current focus of time and funding we the dropping of their originally granted additional stimulus check of $2000 down to $1400 with no real time frame for distribution. Biden also has yet to dismiss the National Guard from the capital despite their presence violating the Posse Comitatus and Act. Though his biggest walk back was on his campaign to do better in regards to the COVID virus that has now become no different than Trump’s due to the fact there isn’t anything more we can do to change the pandemic’s trajectory over the coming months. After the election, it is beginning to be clear to all Americans the promises they made when entering office have all been thrown out the window and their true agenda is starting to emerge delivering the clarity on what their intentions truly are.

As we all watch reality unfold like an episode of the Twilight Zone we see these people acting and becoming that which they claimed Trump to be all this time.  This means we really need to  look closely at the scene unfolding before us as it begins to fade away and reveal the fascism it was masking. Evidence by a strong number of the Democratic ran areas now pushing to open up knowing the only way to recover from the never ending deficit created due to the negligent handling of the situation. Only time will tell how these areas will now develop and grow moving forward. One thing is for certain, the worst is yet to come. 

[angstymarshmallow]

Covert Action Part 3 - A Most Wanted Fanfic

[A little note: The more I thought about it, the more I decided it was time to shove all my terrible romantic subplots aside and focus on this. At first I wanted to submit this for choicescreates except it ended up not fitting really well with the prompt. In any case, I’ve really enjoyed writing these so far and I hope you will enjoy reading!]

[Part 1, Part 2]

[Summary: After hours spent searching the team has finally found a lead. Will it bring them one step closer to finding Sam Massey before it’s too late?]

Seventeen hours.

If Dave had been counting (which he was secretly); it had been nearly seventeen hours since Sam’s disappearance. Seventeen hours of wracking his brain for any shred of remaining evidence that could pinpoint her whereabouts.

Up until this moment, Dave Reyes had always considered himself a patient man. His formative years in college taught him its importance. It was as invaluable as a virtue if not a necessity for all the years he spent in the LAPD. 

Patience was too familiar to him except as he paced back and forth by his desk, he struggled to remember why it was important. Each step increased his indecision, his anxiety. Simply put his nerves were frayed; they bordered on frustration and fear more than patience. 

They had gone over every possible lead they could think of; poured over documentations and checked video feeds from last night. There was nothing to provide them with absolute certainty they were searching in the right direction. No solutions had magically appeared the way Dave secretly hoped for. 

He was losing confidence in himself, and as his gaze rested on the rest of his team - he knew they were losing faith too. Simply put; they were running out of time.  Patience had finally become his downfall.

He buried himself deeply into everything, only stopping to grab a coffee whenever possible. He skipped lunch, and as noon became evening he withdrew from his chair for bathroom breaks and to stretch muscles stiff from sitting.

When he returned to his desk, he caught sight of Mirasol. Arms folded, she was perched by his desk with a sandwich tucked under her arm. He lifted a brow as a single form of protest. Once he tried to move past her, she stepped in his way and blocked his view from the blinking screen that beckoned him. 

He took another step quickly in the opposing direction, noting with mild annoyance that she did the same. “Eat.” She shoved the sandwich towards his chest.

His hands reflexively caught it before it could fall. “Thanks,” He muttered stiffly. He tore through the wrapper once she finally stepped aside. Inhaling the sandwich, he dragged his feet towards his desk and sat with a resigned sigh.

She inclined her head at him. “I figured you needed it.”

His stomach seemed to echo that sentiment, suddenly grumbling at the prospect of a meal. Almost involuntarily, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the texture of the savory food, letting it wet his tongue before he begun chewing. He shot Mirasol a grateful small smile. “Seriously, thanks.” He said between bites. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed it.

“Don’t mention it.” She patted his shoulder awkwardly before stepping back to clear her throat. “Besides, we can’t have our best detective slacking off on this, can we? If we’re going to find Sam -”

“When we find Sam.” He interrupted.

Mirasol paused, “when we find Sam,” she added a tentative smile, “you’re going to want to be there - with your I told you so speech ready.” 

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, “yeah you’re right, I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

She hesitated, lips forming a slight frown before outright scowling at him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You couldn’t have known.”

Couldn’t he? If he had been paying more attention; if he hadn’t been so consumed with this high-profile case and the chance of beating Santos at his own game - Sam would have been here right now. She would have been sitting across from him, grumbling about something he said before they put their heads together for whatever case the Captain threw at them.

He would be hard on himself - he had to be because no one else would. 

He forced a smile. “I’m fine, really.” He insisted and her eyes narrowed as she met his cool stare. “Besides seeing this -” he gestured with his free hand at her until he took another bite of his sandwich, “sweet side of you is beginning to freak me out.”

Cheeks flushing, she punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t get used to it Reyes, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“We wouldn’t want to risk that getting sullied, would we?” He stated dryly. He watched her lips curve into an unusual smile even though she rolled her eyes at his timid teasing. “Seriously thank you Mirasol, I appreciate it.” 

She inclined her head at him, “no matter what we’re still a team. Even if we’re down a member right now. We always look out for each other.” She stepped away just as Reza came forward, stumbling across the floor to reach them.

“Guys! I think found something!” He said triumphantly. He waved a piece of paper frantically in front of them until Mirasol snatched it from his hands. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Dave asked, placing his half eaten sandwich by his desk. “What’s this?” He eyed the paper curiously.

Nikhil strolled in behind him, seconds later and Dave stood at his approach. His dark eyes weren’t bridled with excitement the way Reza’s had been, but he did offer them a tiny smile. “It’s a list of all the guests that were at the gala last night.”

Mirasol frowned thinly as her eyes swept through the paper, “How did you get this without any attention?”

Reza smiled sheepishly. “Captain helped us out with that.”

“But I don’t follow,” Mirasol raised her eyes to glare at them, “why is this so important?”

He tried to grab it from her, but she held up a single manicured finger to stop him. “We know it’s an invitation-only gala -” he glanced at Dave who confirmed with a slight nod, “- which means that everyone on this list had to have some connections to be here.” He was close enough for his hand to stretch until they could tap the list of names on the sheet. 

“We ran the names through our database; most of them are clean - small infringements here and there; people suing each other, mentions of fraud before the charges got dropped. You know - what you kind of expect from a bunch of people with too much money.” Nikhil rolled his eyes, “but what we couldn’t find was anything on this guy.” 

Reza’s fingers paused by the name. Derrick Fortney.

Dave’s brow furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be on the list.” Reza mumbled, tracing the name absently. “He couldn’t be.”

“When we ran the name through our system, multiple times to be sure. He wasn’t on the original list.” Nikhil took the piece of paper from both of them and his fingers tapped his name insistently. “We couldn’t find anything - and I mean anything on this guy.” 

“It’s almost like he’s a blank slate.” Reza added, “It doesn’t make sense. We tried to request a subpoena from a judge, just so we could have a look at their records; something to point to why he wasn’t on it to begin with.”

Usually took at least a couple days before the judge would get back to them, but with the Captain’s okay certainly spent of the process.

“Captain shipped the request off herself.” Nikhil added as if he could read Dave’s thoughts. “She wants to get to the bottom of this just as quickly as we do.”

Dave nodded as they listed off what they found. “It didn’t make any sense. His bank records showed money fluctuating from his account to several small businesses.”

“Money laundering?” Dave’s eyebrows shot up, though he didn’t know why he was surprised. A lot of gritty things happened in L.A., dirt and grime could pour from city streets and people if one looked hard enough.

Reza and Nikhil exchanged a careful stare. “We think so, but we can’t prove it. Not yet.”

“Where does Derrick Fortney live? Is he here in L.A.?” 

Reza provided another sheet of paper, smaller this time and tapped his fingers across the large print of an address. “There is a physical address not too far away from the precinct. But I have a sinking suspicion that no one lives here.” He shrugged, “call it a hunch I guess, but I’m not sure that this person actually exists. At least - not in the way most people think he would.” He rubbed his hands together, “you see on paper he does but in the real world. Well,” he exchanged another glance with Nikhil, “we think he’s just a cover up with a different name.”

“Or he might not want to be found.” Dave added, frowning lightly as his eyes skimmed the address. Reza was right, wasn’t located far from here. “This Derrick Fortney could be running interference for some rich and powerful people.”

“Maybe even Santos.” Mirasol spoke up, echoing what they all had been thinking.

Dave stiffened and shifted on his feet. He ran his eyes through the sheet as well; not quite convinced that this was the lead they needed. “But why not keep him a secret? Why risk putting his name out to the public, even for the sake of a gala?” He frowned. 

“It would make more sense to keep this a secret.” Reza agreed, glancing off to the side thoughtfully.

“Unless something went wrong.” Mirasol folded her arms, chin jutting out stubbornly while everyone else had glanced in her direction with alarm. “What if his visit was unexpected because something went wrong?” A pause. “Something with one of the accounts he manages and he had to show up unannounced?” She prompted.

Reza nodded eagerly, “and the security would have to let him through - once they had gotten wind that it was okay for them to let the guest inside.” He lowered his voice once he realized his tone had went up an octave. “Which means that whoever let them in knew, who they were and might have known why Santos was there that night. ”

“Kind of a giant leap there Reza,” Dave snapped his attention to his friend, but his tone had been laced with criticism instead of confidence in Reza’s abilities and his friend stumbled with a half-apology as his shoulders sank. 

“Sorry I just thought…” Reza lowered his gaze. His hands slippsed inside his jeans, “…it was worth mentioning.”

Mirasol elbowed Dave until he winced in response, “But it’s more than what we’ve had in the past couple hours. Right Dave?”

Dave rubbed his arm. Startled by Reza’s reaction, he quickly tried to displace his earlier comment. “Not that it’s not a good hunch; it’s just a hunch that’s all.” There was no real link between Santos and Derrick Fortney, and as much as Dave wanted to believe it was more than a coincidence from people who’ve been staring at screens too long, he couldn’t sure. However, Mirasol was right - it was better than anything else his half-starved brain had concocted. “You did good Reza, this is good.”

Reza’s cheeks mottled red and he beamed at him. His head bobbed up and down quickly, and he mumbled something nonsensical under his breath while Dave cleared his throat before addressing the rest of his team. 

“We’ve got a lead guys. That’s more than what we’ve had for the past couple hours.” He took a deep breath, and felt the familiar wave of confidence flooding through his system. Shooting his first real smile since stepping inside the office, he was starting to feel like himself again. “We’re going to need a search warrant, let’s get started shall we?” 

They spoke among themselves, each vying off with their own ideas on how to proceed. Dave deposited the rest of his sandwich by his desk before grabbing his coat.

For the first time in seventeen hours, the detective finally felt something akin to hope. It wasn’t hope exactly, but was close enough for him to recognize the feeling. They had only seven hours; marking the last and the most crucial parts of the first twenty-fours since Sam Massey went missing.

-

Reza was right, the drive hadn’t taken him long. The detective left the precinct alone, soon after their discussions had ended. They offered to come along with him, but he quickly refused. It was better to have more heads together than apart; and he decided they were better off out of his way and searching for anything else they missed in their haste to scramble for their next move. 

The apartment was located a half an hour way in some obscure part of the city. The more he drove through quiet neighborhoods with faded colours of white and grey, the more he wondered what type of a man Derrick Fortney was to live here. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but it hadn’t recovered since the recession a decade earlier. The quiet street corners were littered with garbage and waste, and every gaze Dave met belonged to toothless grins from people that lived on the street. He couldn’t understand why anyone with connections would live here. 

The more he thought about it as he followed his gps, the more it didn’t make sense. Unless they had completely mistaken him, Derrick Fortney didn’t want to be found. 

With his destination finally in sight, the detective parked on a nearly empty side street. 

The man with the poorly kept guitar sitting a few feet away from his car had given him a grin when Dave dropped a few bills inside his cup. 

Readjusting his tie, Dave stopped in front of the building and craned his neck upwards to see its impassive frame. He could discern even in its current condition that the building had been beautiful once. But ill-kept; windows were half-cracked and paint decades old had peeled back most of its lower half. 

Out of habit, he touched the brim of his gun nervously as he approached.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood. Narrowing his eyes, he carefully checked this remote area for anything suspicious. he swore he saw out of the corner of his eyes a shadow that had quickly moved past. Squinting, he did another once over of the building then shrugged off the sudden uneasiness that fell in the pit of his stomach.

There was no one else here.

His mind was probably just suffering from sleep-deprivation. Forcibly relaxing his shoulders, he stepped inside.

It smelled awful. 

The pungent smell of cigarettes and needles weeks old tickled his nose. He averted his eyes from the mess and coughed until he had to cover his nose with the crook of his arm. His eyes flew to the list of names quickly, and he scanned for any sign of Derrick Fortney. 

He double checked the list, triple checked it before stepping back.  What he hell?

Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, the name wasn’t there. Uttering a soft sigh of frustration, he retrieved his phone to call the precinct.  Reza picked up on the second ring, “Are you sure the address was right?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I can’t find his name in the building directory.”

A pause. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean if I’m sure?” A sigh of annoyance. “I’m looking at the list right now, of course I’m sure.” Impatiently he checked a fourth time and scrunched his nose at the list. “It’s not here.”

“Just one second,” Dave heard pieces of paper being skimmed through by his ear before Reza cleared his throat. “Okay, so the address says he’s on the 15th floor. Apartment 1522 is supposed to be just down the hall.” 

“Thanks, I’ll go check it out anyway.” He slipped the phone back inside his pocket, and carefully strode to the elevator. The ride up was quiet, and once again Dave was struck with uneasiness at the lack of people here.

He tried to rationalize his uncertainty, he wasn’t used to feeling this way. He told himself since it was beginning to turn into night, perhaps most of the residents had simply fell asleep. Somehow he found it hard to believe, but he couldn’t fathom another reason why everything had been so eerily quiet. 

His anxiety increased, nearly doubled the moment he stepped outside the elevator shaft. 

Silence.

He could hear the sound of his own heart, beating erratically inside his chest as he tried to quell his nerves.

Swallowing hard, he quickly crossed the hall and checked the room numbers on top of doors. It didn’t take him long to find 1522 beaming brightly at the end of the hall. 

Touching the top of his gun again, he slowed on approach until he was inches away from the door. This is it. 

Hopefully Derrick Fortney would give him the answers he was looking for. Otherwise he was going to end with an even much worse of a day than Dave had been through.

Straightening his shoulders, he knocked on the door loudly and waited.

No answer.

He rapped the door a second time, except waited a few hesitant beats longer before speaking. “This is Detective David Reyes,” He spoke crisply, letting them know that he meant serious business. “I have a search warrant and I just wanted you to answer some question Derrick Fortney.”

Still, no answer came from the other side of the door.

Frowning, he finally brought his hand towards the knob, hands pausing before touching the handle.

The moment he did, the world changed.

It had only taken split seconds for everything to shift. The moment his fingers grazed the familiar metal surface, an explosion went off. It rattled the building, shook his entire core and it was so volatile that the sheer force threw him across the hall. A sharp cry escaped his throat as his back connected with the wall.  The sudden impact drew another strangled gasp from him and as pain quickly spread, he begun coughing. His arms protested when he tried to move and he felt something wet - a gash perhaps across his forehead, but he couldn’t be sure. Everything hurt. Everything felt as if it were on fire. When he tried to move again, his legs gave out from under him. He stumbled to keep himself upright, but staggered until he met the floor.

His head hit the cool surface hard. It felt as if his skull was about to explode, and another cry left his lips as he tried to force himself to ignore the pain. He couldn’t - it was everywhere. Every part of his body was screaming at him. 

The last thing he remembered, was the smell of smoke filling inside his lungs before he saw it as his eyes fluttered closed.

[heartsoftruth]

have fun at the match babe! don't pass out lol! i know i would.

Anonymous said:How is Ney in real life? is he indeed so beautiful in real life too? Or he has better look on the screens? And what didn’t you like?Anonymous said:does he looks as dreamy as in the pics?

Anonymous said:Wawwww YOURE SO LUCKYYYY ! Just what did you not like ? Hope you enjoy this wobderful chance to see him in front of you ! I hope one day i will have the chance to watch a match of PSG !

Anonymous said:girl… I am soooo happy for you! 😍😍😍😘😘😘 and when you come down and collect.. you SO need to write a 5 page essay of every little detail lol!!!Anonymous said:Did you go alone?Anonymous said:How was the ambience in the stadium during the match?

Hahaha. I didn’t pass out of cry. I just yelled REALLY loudly and looked like a real life smiley xD 

I was seated behind the goal; so I didn’t see him as close as I wanted that I could see his eye color or something (boohoo), but at the same time I did see him clearly you know? Just how when you go to a match and sit behind the goal, but in Parc des Princes the space between the field and the fans is not that huge so I had a clear view. 

I had the luck they all warmed up at my side of the field (I dont know if they always do), but I was happy AF with it. And just in awe you know? To see him warm up the way he does: juggling the ball, almost free styling some tricks. I was just staring at him. See what he does, how he interacts with his teammates etc. 

When the match started they had to score at the other side of the field and when you sit behind the goal it’s more difficult to see clearly what happens right in front of the other one goal haha. (So I only found out later Ney gave the penal first to Cavani). 

When they attack you can clearly see what’s happening tho. How they prepare the goal, assist and even score. Just a penalty call is difficult to judge if it’s on the other side of the field xD 

Ney’s skill show: how he takes on a pass from miles away, sombrero or just a dribble: you can clearly see that no matter where you’re seated. Besides that everyone arounds you has the same reaction to it: oeeehs and aaaahs followed by an applause. 

The first half there were harsh tackles on Neymar and the ref kept doing nothing and I could see Ney becoming more and more irritated. Besides getting to yell towards the ref (irl) with the rest of the fans it was also typical Ney to see him get a little angry and at one moment talk with an opponent (just talk btw). But I could see him becoming more and more pissed; which ended up in me also getting more pissed off in the stands. 

It’s one thing to see these fouls on the TV but too much for real life. Especially when the ref let’s it all go through: nice moment for me to curse him out in a language no one around me understood xD 

The second half he finally had to run towards me - or the goal of the opponent but lets just roll with towards me 😂😂 - and I was only looking at him. 

I was pissed of when his second goal - behind where I was seated - was disallowed, but his face afterwards was so precious! Pleading with his hands and all, aawhh. And another good way to boo and be angry 😂😂 Note to self: I really need to learn how to whistle with my fingers *thinks* maybe there a YouTube tutorial of it!

I think then - or afterwards - he had a chance with Cavani and they both ended up on the ground near/in the goal. Ney on his knees and Cavani also I think (I forgot bc I was looking at Ney haha). And then - or before that moment - HE SCORED HIMSELF!!!! Not a pretty goal, BUT A GOAL AND AT MY SIDE. 

I was yelling and waving my Neymar scarf - I bought at the stadium - around hahah. Everyone was clapping and yelling his name. I like how at PSG they yell a part of the players name and then the fans have to finish it for 3 times. So it was: “DA SILVA SANTOS JUNIOR” We; NEYMAAAR!!!. I dont know it just made me hyped hahah. 

The fans were amazing btw. When the moment of the penalty came for example everyone was singing Ney’s song and his name and I was yelling at the tops of my lungs haha! Then he had to shoot everyone went quiet and when he scored everyone was yelling and chanting his name. Afterwards the stadium speaker did his : ‘DA SILVA SANTOS JUNIOR?’ We: NEYMAAAAAR!! thing, three times and then we chanted his name afterwards again on the beat of his song. I think the fans realized they needed to chant Ney’s name even before he took the penalty, because of what happened with the booing. Also the image they put on the outside of the PSG shop on the Champs Elysees: “Paris loves you, Ney!”. Say a lot. But the fans were amazing! Really good atmosphere. 

The real ultras of PSG were seated at the other goal, but in our section also many season ticket holders and above us also some type of PSG ultras. Not the real ones, but they were also singing a lot, but I really like that! The fans make the atmosphere!. 

It’s just insane - to me - that i’ve finally seen him live in front me of me and do all those magical, temperamental things right in front of me. The last time I was able to see him up close he was sick and I was so scared I would miss him again this time due to his injury. THIS GUY ALWAYS GIVES ME STRESS EVEN WHEN HE DOESNT KNOW IT 😭😭 Even when he had to go off the field in the first half for an injury check I almost died; thinking he would have to go off already… Always. Giving. Me. Stress haha. 

I don’t know I just saw him!! I SAW HIM PLAY!! fucking finally. It’s an insane realization, but also makes me want to go back to see him again and then be even closer. I don’t know after one time I now want moreeeee haha. I’m so jealous of the Parisian people who have the ability to see him every (other) week. Damn… 

Also great that I saw such a historical match. Cavani becoming the all time topscorer and Ney scoring the 2000th goal! 

I also bought a cup of beer and we got it in a plastic PSG cup. I was looking at the players and saw no Ney. So I asked the lady if she had one Ney cup and if I could have that one haha.

I was btw with a friend of mine and I hope that everyone - who wants to - will be able to see Ney play at least one time. 

The only thing I didn’t like and disappointed me tbh was the fact that after all the fans were rooting for Neymar, chanting his name, applauding him after a good action and booing the ref if he didn’t whistle or gave a card: he AGAIN walked straight towards the locker room. 

I can understand that he did that when they booed him, but the fans were nothing but nice to him Saturday. Cavani and the rest all did that! First towards the ultras and then they came towards us. Those are little gestures, but important ones for fans of the club and for me as a fan of just him as well. I thought it was disappointing.

But ok: when I remember Saturday that isn’t what sticks with me but at the time it did piss me off. But now all I think is how I FINALLY saw him. 

[kittyrossa]

this is a sequel to my post about fanon versus canon keith, but with a tighter focus on keith and shiro’s relationship, especially in S2, and how fandom misinterprets it, especially in S2. the misinterpretations can be boiled down to two points:

keith doesn’t care about anyone on team voltron except for shiro

shiro has favoritism for keith that puts keith above everyone else on team voltron

both of these are just — so simplistic and so superficial, and ultimately simplistic and superficial readings of keith and shiro as characters. so let’s try to do a deeper summation of their S2 character arcs:

keith is dealing with the discovery that he is galra, and the fear that this may endanger team voltron/alienate him from team voltron (again: huge expansion of that here)

shiro is dealing with the discovery that zarkon used to pilot the black lion, and the fear that he is too weak/unworthy to be the new black paladin

if you ignore or downplay either arc, you’re automatically going to ignore or downplay why S2 focuses so much on what they give each other! they give each other humanity, stability, and protection.

humanity

have you ever noticed that keith and shiro are the only paladins who don’t talk about wanting to reunite with family?

for keith, we now know that this is partially because his family is a big question mark — when and why did he get separated from his dad, and does he even have memories of his mom?

for shiro, his backstory is more about his time as a galra prisoner. we also have glimpses of his garrison era: a “senior officer” and the chosen pilot of the kerberos mission.

lance calls shiro a “hero” and a “legend”, and then calls keith his “rival” — even after keith becomes a “dropout”, iverson still reminds lance that keith had been “the best pilot” in his class. if keith and shiro didn’t have a pre-series relationship, “garrison golden boys” is what our main pre-series impression of them would be. they would exist more as pedestals for lance instead of people with their own backstories.

and true, their shared backstory is still mysterious! i’m writing this at a time when only S1 and S2 are released, so we don’t yet know how keith and shiro met, or what their exact relationship was, though we can guess: a combination of mentor/student, friends, and found family.

keith: patience yields focus.

shiro: that really stayed with you, didn’t it?

keith: you’ve given me some good advice. if it wasn’t for you, my life would have been a lot different.

“patience yields focus” is established in the first episode of S1 (keith repeats it to himself to find the red lion, as shiro advises); and the first episode of S2 confirms that this is something shiro has instilled in him. keith is aware that he can be impatient — a hothead — and so he turns to shiro’s “patience yields focus” to slow down and look for a new angle. this is further confirmed by cast and crew, who have more access to backstory than we currently do:

lauren montgomery (showrunner): obviously in the original [keith] was the leader guy, and we just wanted to start him in a different place. he looks up to shiro, but he’s definitely not the leader that shiro is at all. and so he’s got a lot to learn, he’s still very impulsive, very rash, and he’s got a hot temper.

joaquim dos santos (showrunner): it gives him a good place to grow, too. he latches onto shiro at times because shiro’s sort of the only thing that can really calm him down and keep him in check.

(source)

steven yeun (keith’s voice actor): i actually think that [keith] was in more or less ways called upon to be a leader from the beginning. that’s not to say the leader of voltron, but to say that shiro always took him under his wing. keith always hoped that he could reach a place where shiro was and hopefully more. i think shiro saw that in him and tried to stoke those flames and cultivate that within him. there’s a nice history that he and shiro have where if shiro were to ask him to do that, he would understand where it was coming from.

(source)

the idea of keith becoming leader — of shiro passing the torch to him — is where canon gets extremely misinterpreted!

when does shiro first suggest that keith take over as leader? after seeing that keith is able to revive and fly the black lion (on top of the crushing blow that zarkon not only used to fly black, but still has the ability to take control of black and sever shiro from the cockpit)

the second time shiro suggests that keith take over as leader? after confirming that zarkon is tracking voltron through his connection with the black lion (shiro may have weakened that connection by fighting zarkon in the astral plane, but he hasn’t removed the big target on his back: zarkon still wants the black lion, is still capable of finding it, and therefore still capable of hurting, and killing, shiro)

shiro is a human being! he is not a robot, created solely to lead voltron with mechanical neutrality. he is a human being who, not long ago, was a prisoner and gladiator champion, and is still plagued by nightmares that he is a monster and a broken soldier. being a leader does not strip him of this humanity — of insecurities, of vulnerabilities, of awareness of his own mortality.

look at what he says to zarkon:

shiro: you can’t pilot the black lion after everything you’ve done! you can never lead voltron again — you’re no paladin!

doesn’t that sound an awful lot like sendak’s mind games? real or hallucinated, shiro is completely shaken by them:

sendak: we’re connected, you and me. both part of the galra empire.

shiro: no! i’m not like you!

sendak: you’ve been broken and reformed. just look at your hand.

shiro: that’s not me!

sendak: it’s the strongest part of you. embrace it. the others don’t know what you know. the others haven’t seen what you’ve seen. face it: you’ll never beat zarkon. he’s already defeated you.

shiro: i’m not listening to you!

sendak: do you really think a monster like you could be a voltron paladin?

shiro: STOP IT!

amongst other prisoners, shiro has the reputation of “a legendary gladiator, undefeated in the ring”, and haggar says that he could have been “their greatest weapon” — but “champion” is not a title that shiro is honored to embody, not like “defenders of the universe”. when ulaz frees him, he says that shiro, as both “a fighter and a leader”, gives hope. this is the legacy that shiro wants: someone who helps people, who saves people. not a monster — not someone who spreads blood and violence and destruction.

it’s unfortunate that pidge is another character that shiro is accused of “favoring”, since that is quite the warp and twist of “bonded by their ties to sam and matt holt and the desire for them to be safe.” shiro’s first “good” memory of his time as prisoner is that he acted to save matt, and pidge is tearfully grateful to him — shiro gives her hope for the survival of her family.

and now, shifting back to keith — shiro, at some point in keith’s life, became a presence that still gives keith his own sense of hope. keith’s very first scene is saving shiro, his eyes widening and shimmering: a humanizing balance against the hand-to-hand combat and knife-wielding and lance seeing him as someone who “one-ups” him. shiro makes it impossible to reduce keith to a hothead with no personal connections or emotions, and in return, keith reveals that shiro brings hope not just on a grand “saving the universe” level, but on a personal “you changed my life” level. neither of them descended to earth as gods, fully formed as mythically skilled pilots; before they even knew what voltron was and before shiro even left for kerberos, they were just everyday human beings that connected to each other. and once they do join team voltron, you can see telltale signs of that connection: playful nudges, shoulder touches, private smiles, full-body hugging, and yeah, this is just physical stuff. the emotional stuff is a whole other thing!

stability

allura says that the lions “choose their pilots — it is a mystical bond that cannot be forced. the quintessence of the pilot is mirrored in his lion.”

the black lion is:

the decisive head of voltron

the lion that needs a pilot who is “a born leader” and “in control at all times — someone whose men will follow without hesitation”

the red lion is:

temperamental and the most difficult to master — you’ll have to earn its respect

faster and more agile than the others — but also more unstable

the lion that needs a pilot who “relies more on instincts than skill alone”

in just this breakdown, it’s clear how black could be mentor-like to red: “in control” where red is “temperamental”, “decisive” where red is “unstable”. we may not know every last detail of keith’s backstory, but in his own words, shiro is someone who helped him find a different direction. shiro didn’t put out keith’s fire, but (as steven yeun says), shiro taught keith how to tame his flames into a source that lights a path rather than burns it. keith, before shiro, probably lost any solid presence that could provide that.

steven yeun (keith’s voice actor): [keith] operates a little differently than the other paladins. he’s not the only one with a difficult family history, but his centers around the way that he is. he’s hotheaded for a reason, and he’s very talented without a lot of ways or things that he can use to express that. his naïveté mixed with his sheer will to make things happen for himself means his hotheadedness may be viewed as a defense mechanism. he comes from an obviously difficult and mysterious past that pushes him to be great … keith thinks with his heart often, and sometimes his heart is very fiery, and i think that leads him to brash decisions. sometimes they’re right, and sometimes they’re wrong.

(source)

it’s fair if you’re thinking, well, this is all too vague to be concrete: we need to see keith’s past to fully understand shiro’s impact on keith.

but i’d argue that we do see shiro’s impact! there’s a strange fanon myth that shiro “coddles” keith — that shiro never calls keith out, that shiro lets keith get away with anything and everything.

off the top of my head, shiro:

tells lance and keith to focus on the mission whenever they butt heads, sometimes literally (“save your energy for fighting zarkon!”); he doesn’t hold back when keith initiates, nor does he single out lance when lance initiates

tells keith that people have to want to be part of a team, they can’t be forced (when keith scolds pidge for wanting to leave and find her family)

tells allura and keith that no matter their intent (saving the team), it’s even more dangerous for them to separate themselves from the team, as the team is always stronger together, and he repeats this to keith when they’re alone: “when you and allura ran off, it put us all in jeopardy”

tells keith that he needs to learn self-discipline and control his emotions, especially if he’s going to be a leader someday (when keith blows up at the others for not being as devoted to the marmora mission)

it isn’t “coddling” or “favoritism” that shiro doesn’t see keith through a black-and-white lens (completely “cold” or completely “hotheaded”). and it isn’t “coddling” or “favoritism” that shiro knows keith is willing to work on himself. “patience yields focus” is direct proof that shiro feels he can give keith advice that keith will take into consideration. it isn’t an “in one ear, out the other” situation.

in response to all of the above, keith amends his behavior:

in the keith versus lance example where keith had initiated the fight (“gotta be quick!” and darting in to take lance’s drone shot), keith initiates teaming up with lance in the later drone battle, alerting lance to targets and replying “good eye!” when lance alerts him right back

he listens attentively as pidge explains why she now wants to stay with team voltron, and says “good to have you back on the team” with a smile that pidge warmly returns — a complete tonal flip of their earlier argument

he and allura apologize for running off, acknowledging that shiro was right — “we thought we were doing the right thing,” admits keith — and even before that, keith does everything he can to quickly get himself and allura back to the team, with results both disastrous (blowing up their pod) and miraculous (unlocking a long distance mental link with red)! the next time keith goes off on a mission alone, it’s only after informing the entire team of his plan and asking for pidge’s help with cloaking the pod (as opposed to escaping with a stolen pod and without telling a soul); shiro is still worried, but takes the heads-up for what it is and tells keith to stay in contact — he’ll give keith cover and clear a path for him (teamwork!)

in his first mission with another teammate after the marmora mission, keith tries to control his emotions as he leads hunk through the weblum, providing clear instructions and encouragement; some impatience still shines through, but the mission is a success and hunk acknowledges that keith is actively trying to reach out and encourage him

i mean — can anyone blame keith for shiro being the person he “desperately wants to see”? as explored in my post about keith’s S2 arc, the marmora trials reveal that these are keith’s hopes and fears:

THE HOPES: having family; connecting to family; feeling that he belongs with a family and knowing exactly how he belongs, whether it’s found family (shiro; team voltron) or biological family (his dad; his mom)

THE FEARS: losing family; but that wanting family — that hoping for it, that pursuing it, that expressing that he wants it — makes him selfish and will distract him from being a paladin of voltron + the greater good of saving the universe

keith sees shiro in the mindscape because he’s the person he’s closest to, yes, but that just scratches the surface: he sees shiro because he knows shiro will help him zone in on the right focus.

now, there’s a small catch: hologram!shiro is not the real shiro.

josh keaton (shiro’s voice actor): it’s not really shiro, it’s keith’s perception of the worst [case scenario]. you get an insight into what his biggest fears are … being alone. and it seems like he’s constantly scared that he’s gonna do or say something wrong, and [then] he’s gonna lose shiro.

(source)

here’s a visual breakdown of expectation versus reality: hologram!shiro is calm and collected. he doesn’t react to keith being in both physical and emotional pain — he just congratulates him for lasting so long, like a detached instructor; he doesn’t ask how keith is feeling. sure, he gives keith a hand to help him stand, but he doesn’t linger: he instantly puts distance between them. “we’re all the family you need” sounds mechanical instead of heartfelt, a professional plea for keith to keep his focus on the mission instead of genuinely making keith understand how much he cares about him. he walks out as soon as he feels that keith isn’t going to listen, not even turning around as keith yells “shiro! wait!” and tries to stop him.

the real shiro, of course, wears his heart on his sleeve: his face is wrecked with fear and concern, and he doesn’t stop holding keith after helping him up. “keith, are you okay?” he only lets go because the blade makes it clear they’re not going to let keith leave with his knife, and shiro immediately charges to fight them singlehandedly. he doesn’t, not even for a second, consider siding with anyone but keith.

that being said, shiro doesn’t always wear his heart on his sleeve.

shiro: if you’re going to be a leader, you’ve got to get your head on straight.

keith: i’m sorry. i’ve just had a lot on my mind.

shiro: i know. we all have.

keith isn’t the only one that can be guarded. as black paladin, shiro strives to be “a born leader who is in control at all times” — he does his best to cope with his trauma internally. unless it involves information that can help their mission, he doesn’t open up about his time in prison, let alone how much he fears that what he’s done as “champion” makes him an unworthy paladin. when fear slips through the cracks, it’s from a triggered memory (and keith is almost always the first person to notice that something is wrong). this is a big part of why shiro clashes with slav, who does not attempt to hide how he copes with being a tortured prisoner.

shiro isn’t on zarkon’s level, though. zarkon thinks that weakness is an infection that should be cut off before it can spread. he refers to voltron and the black lion as weapons to wield, and claims that both shiro and keith are too weak to know how to use them. zarkon relies on singular power and intimidation to rule, and with the exception of haggar, does not appear to have personal advisors to assist him, or even, really, any personal relationships. we don’t even find out that his son exists until the end of S2.

zarkon: you have no idea how to command a weapon like this!

shiro: no one commands the black lion!

zarkon: you dare lecture me? do you think the black lion would allow such a feeble creature to pilot it? only the powerful can command it!

shiro: you’ve forgotten what’s most important between a lion and its paladin. it’s not about power. it’s about earning each other’s trust!

this causes shiro’s bond with black to strengthen while zarkon’s weakens, and in the following episode, red shows keith the same devotion after keith wakes up from the mindscape, choosing saving the universe over reuniting with his family. keith and shiro are both extremely passionate about their roles as “defenders of the universe”, and though they can be guarded about their own past and their own trauma, they each hope that the other will trust them as sources of stability.

shiro, being leader, does not only do this with keith — he has close relationships with pidge and allura and is sensitive to the burdens that they try to keep private: “owning who you are is going to make you a better paladin” (pidge) and “you should be resting; i know how you feel, but you have to step away for a while” (allura). but he’s a human being, not a robot, which means he can be self-contradictory — he doesn’t always follow his own advice.

he also isn’t a mind-reader, so as well as he knows keith, he still needs keith to talk to him. before the marmora mission, shiro has no idea what’s going on in keith’s head, even if he’s the only person to notice that something is going on. where others may see keith standing apart from the group as keith just being aloof or antisocial, shiro picks up that keith has anxiety about something, and isn’t convinced when keith acts like nothing is wrong:

shiro: is everything okay?

keith: yeah. why?

shiro: you just seem a bit anxious.

keith: i’m fine. just tired. like you said, i should — get some sleep.

this is a war, but shiro shouldn’t have to approach being leader the way that zarkon does. caring about people is not a weakness. shiro should not be forbidden from being close to someone or forced into emotional distance: into depriving keith of the emotional support that has canonically turned keith’s life around for the better.

which doesn’t mean that he deprives the others of emotional support! it just means that shiro has been aware of keith’s need for guidance even before voltron, even before kerberos, and that doesn’t translate into “isn’t aware of keith’s flaws” — it translates into “better awareness of where keith’s flaws come from, and how to approach them”, something the others aren’t as tuned into yet.

and you know what the best part is? keith gives shiro that same emotional support!

of course, the same goes in reverse: keith can’t know what shiro doesn’t tell him. when shiro looks troubled in the healing pod, keith doesn’t understand: “he just got blasted by a space witch and mauled by giant lizards. what dream could be worse than that?”

even though keith can tell when shiro is vulnerable, he doesn’t know every memory that flashes through shiro’s mind, nor how unstable the memories can make shiro feel. keith tries to open a conversation when they first reunite (gentle and tentative, but still curious). shiro, however, is as lost as keith is:

keith: so, what happened out there? where — were you?

shiro: i wish i could tell you. my head’s still pretty scrambled. i was on an alien ship, but somehow i escaped. it’s all a blur.

shiro changes the topic to “how did you know to come save me when i crashed?”, bewildered but in awe, and this is actually a good point to segue from. because shiro gets profoundly moved by saving people and being saved, and this can sometimes lead to shiro losing focus on the bigger picture and bigger risks.

the first example doesn’t cause any harm, though it has the potential to: they’re on sendak’s ship, and pidge wants to rescue the prisoners, saying they can’t just leave them there. it’s hurting shiro too, but he says they don’t have time — in war, you have to make tough choices, and right now, that choice is to find the red lion and leave. it isn’t until pidge reveals that sam holt is her dad that shiro changes his tune, telling pidge he’ll come with her and that keith will find red on his own. keith doesn’t like the idea of going by himself, but off he goes (“patience yields focus” on his mind), and everyone gets out alive.

the next two examples are more complicated:

shiro says that they aren’t going to destroy zarkon’s empire overnight and that hitting him where he lives would be a huge mistake — and then allura gets captured, sacrificing herself to save shiro. shiro immediately changes gears: they’re going in fast and without warning, and they’re not leaving without her. hunk points out that shiro had said this would be a suicide mission, but it’s keith who flat-out suggests that they shouldn’t go on the mission at all: “we’ll be delivering the universe’s only hope to the universe’s biggest enemy.”

when shiro recalls that ulaz had helped him escape prison, he’s determined to find him again. everyone objects to this, especially allura, but it’s keith’s objections that are obviously colored by a personal history with shiro: “shiro, are you sure you can trust this? i mean, after all the galra have done to you, they — they took your arm. you know i trust you, shiro. but this doesn’t feel right.”

keith almost does a boomerang of “patience yields focus”: he gets why shiro is emotionally moved in both of these examples, but fears his judgment is clouded by those emotions. and like keith learns from shiro’s call-outs, shiro goes through a trial and error period: in future missions, he constantly points out the dangers of bringing voltron to places where zarkon can track them and take control of the black lion.

also, this is a more comedic example, but still relevant: keith is right there with the other paladins in pulling faces at shiro when allura says she doesn’t need shiro’s permission to go on a mission. it’s small, but it’s further proof that keith doesn’t object to shiro being challenged, whether he or someone else is doing the challenging.

i think all of this can be misconstrued as “keith and shiro advise each other to keep their emotions in check, which means they don’t care about each other’s emotions.” they absolutely care! but they’re painfully aware of how not having control can lead to chaos, and in a way, they overestimate each other’s hold on having control. this is partially why they’re so adamant about each other’s leadership strengths: they each see the other as someone who can attain stability and inspire it in the rest of the team.

but once the marmora mission happens and keith’s fears are laid bare, shiro doesn’t ask keith to be leader again. and while keith does work on applying shiro’s advice, he still unwaveringly thinks of shiro as leader and black paladin, as he has from the beginning: “shiro’s the head.”

shiro: your father must have trusted [the galra] once. zarkon was the original black paladin, wasn’t he?

allura: that was a long time ago.

lance: wait, what?

keith: didn’t you see how he stole the black lion right out from shiro? or that he could do all that cool stuff with his bayard? shiro’s bayard? you know, the black one?

lance: whoa, what did you do?

shiro: i’ve got zarkon’s bayard.

keith: you mean you’ve got your bayard.

the mutuality of keith and shiro’s stability is perhaps best summed up in this parallel:

SEASON ONE

keith: it’s good to have you back.

shiro: it’s good to be back.

SEASON TWO

shiro: good to have you back, keith.

keith: good to be back.

whatever happens to them, whatever they win and whatever they lose, they have each other to come back to. and there’s an in-universe example of someone noticing this: allura, who has her own relationship of stability with shiro as co-leaders, witnesses shiro hugging keith goodbye, just as she hugs coran, her own found family. she knows that shiro has been traumatized by the galra, and it’s his word that she trusts in reaching out to the galra as allies. and here she sees shiro trusting keith, enough to hold him close and to want him to be safe. again: this is a relationship that helps to humanize keith and shiro, not only to the audience, but to the characters that notice it.

protection

keith: after getting booted from the garrison, i was kind of — lost, and — found myself drawn out to this place. it’s like something — some energy was telling me to search.

shiro: for what?

keith: well, i didn’t really know at the time, until i stumbled across this area. it’s an outcropping of giant boulders with caves covered in these ancient markings. each tells a slightly different story about a blue lion, but they all share clues leading to some event — some arrival happening last night. then, you showed up.

it’s a common headcanon that keith got booted from the garrison after the kerberos mission was announced a failure due to pilot error, killing shiro and the holts. the timeline adds up: pidge doesn’t become a garrison cadet until after she starts investigating, and by that time, lance has just been made fighter pilot (“hasta la later, keith!”); lance himself says he was upgraded to fighter class “thanks to [keith] washing out”, and iverson describes the situation as “had a discipline issue and flunked out.”

however that “discipline issue” manifested, it’s rather touching that keith — no matter how “lost” he felt — still managed to remember “patience yields focus”, throwing his entire concentration into following the lion’s energy and all of the cave clues about an arrival. and that was without even knowing that shiro would be the arrival.

so, imagine how devoted keith is to protecting shiro when he knows it’s shiro! actually, we don’t have to imagine it, because it’s such an ongoing thread. it happens a lot, y’all.

MONTAGE!

as soon as he realizes that this is shiro, that this is shiro alive and back on earth, keith doesn’t linger: he’s emotional, yes, but he snaps to it and cuts shiro free and lifts him up; and though he’s bemused by the involvement of lance/hunk/pidge, he adjusts to having them on his bike, coming up with an on-the-fly steering strategy and flying off a cliff just to outrun the garrison and get shiro somewhere safe

even though shiro can’t answer keith’s questions about where he was and what happened to him, keith notices shiro’s memory trigger on sendak’s ship (and thus begins a pattern)

shiro has another memory trigger while fighting the altean gladiator, and despite having just himself been knocked out by the gladiator, keith resurfaces to put himself between the gladiator and shiro, sword drawn and pushing against the gladiator’s staff — all of this as he looks back at shiro and asks if he’s okay

keith notices a robeast coming to arus while he/lance/hunk are separated from pidge and shiro, and instantly goes from relaxed to panicked: “oh no! we gotta get to our lions!” you see the first sign of keith taking leadership, too: “lay down some covering fire so they can get out of there!”

he then realizes that shiro has zoned out while facing the robeast, remembering him from the gladiator ring: “shiro, we gotta move! shiro, are you there? shiro!”

after the castle has clearly been corrupted by the galra crystal, keith’s first thought is that they’d left shiro with sendak, hinting that he knows this could put shiro in some form of danger (even if he doesn’t know exactly what’s said in sendak’s mind games): “sendak … wait — has anyone seen shiro?”

he doesn’t object to shiro and allura going on a mission alone, but his face is scrunched up with some sort of worry that eventually reveals itself as “how are you going to get shiro on board?”

when they go to central command to save allura (a mission that keith is already aware of being Peak Risky), he tells the others to save her without him because “shiro’s in trouble! i’m going in!”; he again asks “shiro, are you okay?!” as he hears shiro’s grunts of pain while zarkon overpowers the black lion, and simply tells lance that he’s going to do “whatever he can”, not even stopping when he knows it’s zarkon and that zarkon is the original black paladin (and remember, this does not remotely shake his view of shiro being the true black paladin and that being shiro’s bayard, thanks very much): literally the only thing that stops the fight is shiro regaining black and scooping up red — “i got you, buddy!”

you can basically put the entire first episode of S2 in this bullet point, but i’ll try to summarize: once he gets used to his post-wormhole surroundings, keith starts worrying about shiro; tries to get in contact with shiro and smiles and laughs when he does; worries about shiro’s wound; recalls “patience yields focus” to come up with a plan to get to shiro; tells shiro to stay with him and lets out more relieved laughter when he sees the black lion; and, as a final desperate measure, approaches the black lion and asks to be let in: “i know i’m not shiro, but he’s in trouble — we need to help him”

once shiro is safe and sound, keith still asks after his wound and doesn’t find shiro’s jokes about it funny — and really becomes 100% serious when shiro starts talking like he’s not going to make it (“stop talking like that”), which happens again when shiro brings up leader!keith a second time: “why are we even talking about this? nothing is going to happen to you”

he stays by shiro’s healing pod as his wounds heal, and looks openly soft and relieved when he wakes up; seeing shiro wounded so recently probably adds even more ammo to keith’s fears that ulaz is untrustworthy (“they took your arm”), but once he knows that shiro had been right, he’s the one to track down shiro and comfort him about ulaz’s sacrifice, apologizing for not trusting ulaz

when they get back from the space mall, keith looks around and, not finding shiro, asks where he is; and as soon as shiro gets back, he asks him if he was able to form a stronger bond with the black lion

several factors lead to keith’s decision to give up his knife, but what makes him regain his strength and tell everyone to stop fighting is seeing shiro activate his galra hand against the blade of marmora

remembering last time, keith is attuned to shiro during the big battle with zarkon, yelling “fight it, shiro!” as zarkon yet again tries to control black and invade shiro’s mind; and when it looks like shiro has passed out and zarkon has succeeded, keith gets himself together and directs the team: “something’s wrong with shiro — guys, we can’t let zarkon get the black lion!”

he notices shiro isn’t moving after the battle and he and pidge carry the black lion back to the castle, where — well, you don’t need me to remind you of keith’s desperate run to the empty black lion as he calls out for shiro, but: yeah, that sure does happen! :(

keith is a mirror of the red lion. on the surface, they are both hotheaded; fast; impulsive; instinctive; and difficult to open up. but at their core? they channel all of that not into destruction, but into protecting who they love!

and keith protects people beyond shiro (click for detailed examples)! keith 100% cares about people other than shiro, and shiro being his closest relationship doesn’t negate that, just as allura and coran’s relationship doesn’t negate them caring about the paladins.

but don’t forget the framework of the virtual mindscape. shiro walks out, and the mindscape becomes keith’s dad, whose dialogue implies that he and keith have been separated for a long time: “so many years have passed. don’t you want to catch up?” keith says of course he does. the setting is the desert shack — the last place keith could call home or his own. add the loaded baggage of keith not knowing where his knife comes from, or, apparently, much about his mom, and you get the image of someone without a lot of stability in his past. this hasn’t made him resentful of people: slow to open up to anyone and everyone, yes, but still yearning for connection and for people to call family. shiro, in the absence of traditional family, has become the closest presence. of course keith is protective of him, of course he fears losing him! he’s lost family before and he’s lost shiro before!

think of how much it means to keith that his fears aren’t reality: that shiro isn’t going to abandon him because he makes mistakes, or because he doesn’t always do or say the right thing. it cannot be overstated that this isn’t “coddling” or “favoritism”: it’s being a friend; it’s being family; it’s not giving up on someone. shiro doesn’t look at the fact that keith has been omitting things from him — the knife, and his fears about it — and decide to leave keith to fight that fight on his own. he may not completely understand keith’s past, but he’s willing to protect keith’s right to explore it; he doesn’t think it makes keith selfish, or someone to walk out on. this doesn’t change with the galra reveal, no matter how surprised he is: it only makes him hold keith closer.

when shiro talks about something happening to him, it’s because of his own fears. he isn’t saying “i’m going to willingly leave you”, he’s saying “i may fail” — and it’s a complete sign of trust that he thinks keith is someone who can pick up those pieces and put them back together. this isn’t the garrison. this isn’t about keith being “the best pilot” in his class. sure, he relies on keith’s flying to get them out of tight spots (asteroid fields, black holes), just as he relies on hunk’s strength or pidge’s hacking or lance’s sharpshooting. but it’s so much deeper than that.

i mentioned that without their relationship, keith and shiro “would exist more as pedestals for lance instead of people with their own backstories.” and i think some people still see them that way; and i get it, because lance’s fears are what some deem the most “human” — not all of us can relate to being alien orphans or alien prisoners, but can relate to not feeling as valued as other people (or one specific person). that’s completely valid, but, to me, becomes invalid when it turns into acting like keith and shiro aren’t human, or like their “alien” plotlines strip them of humanity and all that comes with it, including flaws and fears. a lot of us can also relate to PTSD; to struggling to maintain stability; to not just biological family but to found family; to fears of being alone and abandoned.

think of how much it means to shiro that after a year of captivity and having to fight for survival, he knows he can rely on keith to protect him. sometimes keith does it without being asked, like fighting zarkon, and sometimes shiro asks him to, like fighting the lizards. it’s true that shiro looks at the whole team as fighters that are stronger together — who can win together if they work together — but on a personal level, he has been shown that keith doesn’t want him to fight alone and that keith not only wants him to survive, but will fight for him to survive.

like i said: this post is only being written based on S1 and S2. i don’t know what’s going to happen in S3! shiro’s disappearance is a major curveball for keith; he’s going to want to find him and protect him, now more than ever. i’m sure mistakes will be made. i’m sure he’ll have to be reminded that patience yields focus. he’ll need help, and he’ll have to let in that help. the ideal is that he won’t internalize everything as his own burden: that he’ll work with the others, because unlike shiro’s first disappearance, keith isn’t alone — he has a team, and he has to be willing to open up to them. they’re never going to be what shiro is to him, but they can develop relationships of equal strength!

keith and shiro are flawed people and therefore their relationship is flawed: they both need to work on communicating and on not bottling up emotions. but even so, they have a mutual understanding that the other will be there for them throughout those emotions (bottled up or exploded), and that’s so important after everything they’ve been through.

shiro: thanks for saving me.

keith: you’d have done the same for me.

[xxcallexx]

The God Stealer

National Arts Month

The National Arts Month (also known as NAM) is a yearly event that honors Filipino artists and their unique talents. This event is being handled by the National Commision for Culture and the Arts (NCCA).This event started in 1991, after President Corazon Aquino signed the Presidential Proclamation 683. This year 2020, the event will be happening on February with a theme of “Ani ng Sining.” The NAM celebrations objective is to showcase and record artistic expressions with different cultures. Furthermore , it encourages the different identities and the values of communities in the Philippines; supporting the fine arts and culture programs. Across the Philippines, communities and organizations hold a creative activity to celebrate NAM. 

In addition, the activities are held in public spaces to  attract participants. NAM’s highest recognition given to a Filipino artists is the National Artist Award which gives tribute to the talents of national artists. 

The main goal for NAM is to publicize and promote our cultural arts. It aims to make the more obscure arts of our country to become more well-known and be celebrated. This is done so that our fellow countrymen, and maybe even foreigners, could come to appreciate these arts, and in turn, appreciate the country they originate from.

However, we will be mainly focusing on one aspect of our country's arts, and that is the literature. Literature is an important aspect to any country's culture and history. It displays the thoughts and feelings of the author, characterized in a story or an essay. These feelings, and in turn these stories, are usually fed from the present social problems that were happening at that time. For example, Dr. Jose Rizal wrote about the injustices being committed by the Spaniards to the Filipinos. He did this as a protest against their colonization and corruption; he might've even been affected by these things. It is clear though, that he wrote his thoughts and feelings, and in turn, made the national treasures El Filibusterismo and Noli Me Tangere, that we may appreciate the sacrifices of the Filipinos of the past and how much they loved the country, and how much they sacrificed for their patriotism.

In conclusion, the literature of a country is an important part of their culture and arts. It displays the artistry and creativity of the Filipino artists in the form of words and poetry.

Author's Biography

Francisco Sionil Jose, 95 years old, was born on December 3, 1924 at Barrio Cabugawan, Rosales, Pangasinan. His mother bought many books for him to read while trying to feed the family at the same time. Jose started writing in elementary, around the time he started reading. At fifth grade, he went to the school library and read books like Noli Me Tangere, a book that brought him to tears for it reminded him of his grandfather. He said that some mestizos took his family's land and left them in poverty. After World War II, he went to the University of Santo Tomas. After a while, he dropped out of his university and decided to pursue writing. Years later, he founded PEN, an international organization of writers. His best work is "The Pretenders", a novel about a man with poor standing and his struggles with his wife's wealthy clan. Jose Rizal was a big influence in Francisco's works. His works supported social justice and equality and also adopted themes from Rizal's work. He also owns a bookshop in Ermita, Manila called Solidaridad Bookshop. He won five Palanca awards: The God Stealer, 1959; Waywaya, 1979; Arbol de Fuego, 1980; Mass, 1981; A Scenario for Philippine Resistance, 1979.

Story Background and Plot Summary

Would you steal something sentimental to a person?Would you sacrifice anything for a luxurious life?Would you trust someone who follows different principles? The story starts with two best friends namely Philip Latak and Sam Christie. Philip Latak is a Filipino while Sam Christie is an American. Both individuals work in the same agency. On a certain day, Sam Christie wanted to check out Philip Latak's place in Ifugao. With this in mind, both Sam and Philip decided to take a bus going to Ifugao. Reaching their destination, the two went to the house of Sadek, the older brother of Philip, where Sadek tells Philip about their grandfather's illness and that he forgives Philip for stealing his gods. After that, Philip went to his grandfather's house inorder to ask his grandfather where the gods are while Sam meets Reverend Doone and talks about Christianity and gods. The grandfather was angry about Philip looking for a god because he hated foreigners like Sam. After this, night came and they had a party for Philip's return to Ifugao. After the party, Sam decided to take a rest. While Sam was asleep, a drunk Philip suddenly woke up Sam. Sam notices that Philip has a god, which was his grandfather's, in his hand. He then tells Philip to give back the god to his grandfather. The following day, Philip was having a conversation with his nephew while Sam was walking around town. During the conversation between Philip and his nephew, his nephew told Philip that their grandfather died. At the same time, Sadek told Sam the same thing. Due to this, Sam looks for Philip and plans to talk to him. In the end, the two decided to part ways. Philip decides to stay in Ifugao and do the things that he needs to do while Sam goes back to America. 

Analysis of the God Stealer

In the story, we can see that Philip Latak, the story's protagonist, together with his foreign co worker, Sam Christie, went on a journey to Philip's hometown which is an Ifugao Village somewhere in the province. Before they arrived at the village, they first rode a bus. Upon hopping on the bus, Philip Latak and Sam Christie were separated by the bus driver. Sam Christie was asked to sit on the front seat beside the bus driver due to his foreign appeal. Philip on the other hand was asked to be seated at the rear sides or at the back of the bus along with the other travelling Filipinos and some animals. This part of the story is one example of how Filipinos show humility to foreigners but sometimes forgets one of their own people. It also shows inequality among races. When they finally arrive at Philip's town, they are greeted with Philip's brother, Sadek. Sadek welcomes them in his house but Philip is embarrassed because his brother's house does not seem favourable for his foreign friend. This shows us hospitable Filipinos are. However, this goes to show that Filipinos are not proud when it comes to showing their culture. Another example that shows Philip not being proud of his culture is when he fell ill and went to the hospital and his grandfather, being the village doctor, used his methods of healing (which is dancing around Philip in a traditional Ifugao outfit with bongs) rather than trusting western medicinal techniques. Philip also stated that he hated the area where the town was and wanted to stay in Manila as it was more comfortable. These parts of the story also show how Filipinos start to reject their Filipino identity. The God Stealer also shows how Filipinos always have a sense of reciprocity or the need to pay back when it comes to foreigners helping them as it shows that the real reason why Philip wanted to steal his grandfather's idol was because he wanted to repay Sam Christie as he had helped him get a promotion and a raise in their company. Filipinos are known to reciprocate anything that has been done to them in a good way. They feel the need to pay the person back for what they have done. The story also shows the unconditional love of a grandparent. In the story, Philip's grandfather welcomes him back with open arms even though he has not returned to the village in a long time. This shows how his grandfather loves him unconditionally because his grandfather never complained about how he never comes home. In the end, Philip regrets stealing the idol because the act led to his grandfather's death. It shows how Filipinos regret their denial to their own culture. The God Stealer tackles numerous issues from colonialism , fragmentation of Filipino identity, unconditional love, reciprocity, and social conformity. It shows how all of us live in a society and how easily we Filipinos are influenced by other foreign cultures.

[lorenzoandmaria-blog]

from lorenzo // 042619

Apologies for the rather late reply. I don’t want to use tight schedules, tiring commutes, late-night meetings as alibis because for a correspondence like this, one has to make time when there is always no time to be found. I will also admit that I am so eager to hear from you as well and this is one of the good things amidst the bleakness of it all. And while, all the more I can’t do real-time responses, I hope you find in me a better listener and talker than the void :))

To be completely honest, I haven’t also been able to respond because the work here has soured my thoughts and I felt as though I would end up ranting here on messenger. I have been resorting to something I do when I’m sad, that is, humoring myself with irony and dark comedy. What I mean to say, is that if I wrote earlier, it would have been from abandon rather than necessity (this being the only reason why one should write, I believe) which wouldn’t reciprocate the justice you gave to my questions. Glad to hear about your stay in Isla Gigantes! Hearing how great the place and people were, I do hope that that will be the first of many trips for you to that island (I’m sure that with your talk, the locals won’t hesitate to drive you around to see the sunrises and sunsets again!). Thank you for believing in me and please know that it means a lot :’) I guess it takes one to know one, so allow me to also say that I believe that you are a catalyst of change as well —and that is at a 110% certainty :)) However, I have to ask (and this is the real cliché), what keeps you going? True, we don’t have to accommodate all the bad news, but sometimes, that which we do accommodate is heavy enough, where do take the heart to bear it? And when the breather is taken, where do you get the will to let it go and dive into the thick of things again? what does one do when advocacy and organizing has become a daily grind— so much so that even life-or-death decisions are sterilized with repetition? As to your questions, I won’t evade any! (unlike some people I know hehe) I get by the unstable internet by doing as much as I can offline then use the 5 mins of stable connection to send emails, messages, etc. Yes, I do need it for the work but my boss seems to think that I can get by just fine. I have no clue as to why I was suddenly placed here in Iligan and all the more stupefied as to why I agreed. I have yet to angrily confront my boss on this—what my colleagues used to call as—“mushroom management”. It’s part of my day job--- with all that political shit on the side. Very little, as I don’t know anyone here. To find possible peers, I need to first find out where is the inuman place where young minds plot revolutions and contemplate if they should call their exes  di ko pa ito nahahanap though. The office has good enough cellphone signal but it’s the long commutes really that cut me off. When I’m sad (as in really sad, not ironically happy) Mostly, I drink and scroll through Facebook or I might listen to a piece classical music packed with feels. Sometimes I read and reread poems that are also full of feels. That or drink with/talk to a friend. How about you, what do you do when you’re sad? Yes, I will be able to fly out or ride out but only when the need arises or merong conferences, meetings, etc. outside Iligan. Haha actually, last time I checked with my boss it wasn’t six months-1 year; it was “indefinitely,” which means that it depends on outcomes and external developments--- where and whenever shit needs to get done. The books I brought? I have a ton of e-books but those aren’t real books because they don’t have that smell when you flip the pages :)) The real ones I brought are two by Bienvenido N. Santos--- “Brother, My Brother” and “You Lovely People” (collections of short stories, all of them sad haha) and “The Eternal Lightness of Being” by Kundera (for a lighter, self-indulgent read). The recent events have somewhat compelled me to bring a Bible, “Biblia ng Sambayanang Pilipino” version— the choice version of every leftist who still believes in God (idk if I’m religious or what, that is a topic for a loooooong discussion) How are the days looking so far? Long and exhausting. Few hours of sleep, only a few bites of food, meetings meetings meetings papers papers papers— it’s like college all over again! So I guess I’ll be fine. The stakes are so much higher though, so mind-bogglingly high that I don’t really think about it much (if only to keep what’s left of my sanity intact) Aside from our exchange, there are a few other good things here. One in particular that I want to share with you, is about my only partner-in-crime here. He is a simple man, a good man but I just can’t describe him curtly here, it wouldn’t do justice—both to you and to this 67-year old veteran of at least two wars and a million other endeavors and episodes! I tell you, it’s a miracle this guy is still alive and still so jolly. I want to give you a portrait or a sketch of him, I just need a week or two please! (And as you might have guessed, I paint with words not brushstrokes, although how I wish!) Lastly, I wanted to ask about you, how you haven’t felt like yourself in a long while and how you haven’t felt so peaceful in such a long while. How do these two fit together? And why do you actively not think about things somewhat left behind after the deluge of advocacy work? And what about the jumble of things set aside? Although I must say, I can relate but I must also ask, just how much of ourselves must we set aside for a “greater purpose”? What does it mean for life to be good yet fleeting? Forgive me, but I don’t believe you have nothing more to say. :)) I hold as a maxim for life, the saying, “wherefore one cannot speak clearly, one must remain silent,” but if anything, you have been as clear as the sun and star light you have so poignantly described. Take your time as well (if only so that I may read your response when my schedule and internet connection becomes better! huhu) You will be happy to know, that yes, I am doing alright and if it’s alright, the heaviness of my sleepless days here would be lightened if I were to know that the same is true for you. I hope your day starts and ends as sweet and as wonderful as it can ever be. The warmest greetings and solidarity to you from the fields of Maigo, the uplands of Ozamiz and again, the bustling and beautiful city of Iligan and all the places I’ve been to the past days which in one way or another, have made their presence felt through the words of this message.

042619 //  1:57 AM

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Tactical Guide to Stipe Miocic vs. Francis Ngannou

Penniless and with no prospects, Francis Ngannou left Cameroon for France. Ngannou worked as a laborer and harbored dreams of becoming a boxer to break out of poverty. After wandering into the MMA Factory in Paris in hopes of joining a boxing class, Ngannou was convinced by Fernand Lopez to try his hand at mixed martial arts. This weekend, he fights for the UFC’s heavyweight title—the world’s absolute prize in fighting—and reports that he is being paid $500,000 just to take part. However you look at it, Francis Ngannou is already a massive success.

The UFC seems to be wholeheartedly in the Ngannou business. With a story like his, and a body like his, who wouldn’t be? He’s six-foot-four, 250 pounds with abs, and he knocks people out. Consider his path to the title—through the two most knocked out fighters in UFC history—and the way that the UFC has played up his punch as almost magical. Ngannou’s punch is allegedly the hardest that the UFC performance center had ever tested. But that isn’t a world record any way you look at it—it’s a record on a machine that a handful of people at the UFC’s performance center have used—yet you will still see it advertised as though it is. Dana White stretched even the most gullible of fans’ credulity when he announced that Ngannou was proven to hit as hard as a truck. Then look at the UFC’s social media accounts and hype footage which focuses on Alistair Overeem on the ground after he has been knocked out by Ngannou. There is nothing unusual about a fighter being on the ground for a long while after being knocked out, but broadcasts cut away from that image almost immediately to focus on the celebrating winner because it’s extremely uncomfortable. The UFC really are pulling out all the stops to make Ngannou their Tyson.

That is the job of a promoter though, and it is good to see the UFC actually investing in someone who isn’t Conor McGregor. For the educated fight fan there are still a great many questions clouding the image of the unbeatable Ngannou though, and hopefully his bout against Stipe Miocic will be able to give us some answers.

Hypothetical Gameplan: Miocic

For Stipe Miocic the path is clear. Francis Ngannou is a man who does well in exchanges or in combinations when his opponent is covering up and static. In this regard, the Miocic opponent to whom he is most similar seems to be Mark Hunt. (Check out yesterday’s Stipe Miocic: King of the Heavyweights for a look through the gameplans that Miocic has shown against each of his opponents in the UFC.) Hunt was looking to counter Miocic whenever he stepped in, Miocic used the jab and feints to make Hunt reconsider. This isn’t a “will it work on Ngannou?” notion, this is just an absolute must against good counter strikers. Every counter striker has had a hard time against convincing feints and good, non-committal jabs. The reason is simple: he can keep swinging at every look he’s shown—exhausting himself and throwing himself out of position—or he can wait a little longer, try to ascertain whether the strikes are real or not before he throws, and start eating strikes he otherwise wouldn’t have. From Anderson Silva to Joanna Jedrzejczyk, it has worked.

Of course in the above instance we were talking about “convincing” feints. If a fighter starts to second guess himself, or throws three or four feints without stepping in to show the legitimate strike, any doubt they implanted into the counter-striker’s mind is quickly going to fade. This is the human element of scientific striking and to see that in action you need only watch Alistair Overeem’s bouts in the UFC heavyweight division. You can witness Overeem perform in-and-out fighting clinics against Junior dos Santos and Mark Hunt, surge to an almost victory over Miocic, and then clumsily swing for Francis Ngannou, Sergei Kharitanov, and Ben Rothwell—obviously too worried to commit himself to anything but the most off-balance charges.

The only fighter that Ngannou has met who put a passable jab in his face was Curtis Blaydes and on that occasion, Ngannou took each jab flush and returned a right hand over the top. Blaydes beat him to the mark regularly with his quicker punch, but ate the harder, slower punch just the same in the aftermath.

This is a constant theme in mixed martial arts: a fighter tightens up the form and increases the speed of his blows, gets to the mark first, and gets hammered immediately afterwards. Kazushi Sakuraba surprised Wanderlei Silva in their third meeting by shooting straight punches down the center, but was clattered around by the windmill of blows which followed. John Moraga beat Sergio Pettis to the punch surprisingly often, but Pettis realized that Moraga was doing nothing to make himself scarce afterwards and quickly began landing counter combinations.

Blaydes’s problem was that his jab was predictable, poorly hidden, and that he made no defensive considerations afterwards. This is the entire purpose of the double end bag: it makes the fighter move immediately after his straight punches—the fighter hits the bag, it bounces back and that is supposed to represent the opponent’s return. It is easy to get distracted by top boxers tapping the bag hundreds of times without losing track of it and miss the entire point of the exercise—watch Ronda Rousey use the double end bag for that. But Stipe Miocic has shown himself capable of very solid jab work—or “jabbery” for the seasoned fight fan. Against Mark Hunt, Roy Nelson, and Fabricio Werdum, Miocic was able to get in and out unharmed by feinting before his jabs and moving to a position from which he could defend himself afterwards. Whether that be dipping at the knees, slipping, getting down behind his lead shoulder, or obstructing the path of his opponent’s right with his lead hand.

One of the beautiful things about the double jab—and you can see this from Ray Robinson vs. Randy Turpin right up to Vasyl Lomachenko vs. Guillermo Rigondeaux—is that it covers ground, forces the opponent to move, and doesn’t require the jabbing fighter to open up too much. When an opponent usually gets out of the way by bending at the waist or leaning backwards, the double jab forces him into his most crouched or craned position before the right hand has even left its holster. Since he arrived in the UFC, Ngannou has shown a lot of leaning back and throwing when the opponent steps in—getting cracked with a good straight right in this position can be disastrous.

Of course, Stipe Miocic’s good jab and outfighting are a means to an end. His jab sets the table for God’s own right hand and this is where things get dangerous, not just for the recipient but for Miocic as well. His right hand has a mind all of its own. Sometimes he is capable of beautiful scientific hitting wherein he will land his right hand, anticipate a return and move to a new angle to keep hitting. Other times he will fumble—looking to hold onto his opponent with his left while he swings frantically with his right. These are the ones which could easily get him into trouble on the inside with Ngannou. The longer Miocic is in the mid-range the more he opens himself up.

Sneaking the “two” in after the “one” should be Miocic’s main goal in this bout. Faking the level changes to make Ngannou work and move, using feints to get his finger off the trigger on the counters, scoring the jab and eventually sneaking through the right hands—always cutting the combination off, exiting by “closing the door” with the left hook, or moving to a clinch proper to limit the chances of Ngannou smashing him on the return.

Another way in which Miocic can likely score the right hand is by drawing kicks from Ngannou. Ngannou is not a skilled kicker and this really showed in a couple of his early UFC fights, wherein he would plod around—stop—and then throw a labored, full power right low kick, absolutely naked. Drawing the kicks out can be done by outfighting, not just with the jab, but with the inside low kick which Miocic used so excellently against Fabricio Werdum. Miocic had a lot of trouble with outside low kicks from Junior dos Santos but in drawing round kicks from Ngannou he should look to step up the center with the right hand while Ngannou is one on foot. This intercepting counter as the opponent is on one leg, when timed correctly, is one of the most severe in all of striking and when it doesn’t result in a knockout it offers a great chance of a knockdown or takedown.

Hypothetical Gameplan: Ngannou

Francis Ngannou’s close range weapons are well advertised. The left uppercut on a lunging, badly out of position Alistair Overeem has been replayed ad infinitum, and the counter right uppercut against Andrei Arlovski is well remembered.

While the old lean-back-and-counter might work a treat if Miocic offers up exchanges as readily as Arlovski and Overeem did, it’s always best to plan for a competent, savvy opponent and be pleasantly surprised if they make a mistake. Therefore Ngannou’s focus should be on forcing these exchanges and finding the weapons he does possess which can compete with Miocic’s work at range.

Firstly, Ngannou might do well to constantly work to cut the ring. While Miocic has been very good at circling off the cage and avoiding men who want to trap him there, consciously and consistently working towards it should yield results eventually. In the course of ring-cutting, Ngannou could look to make use of the double jab to straight right hand that he threw repeatedly against Blaydes. Miocic has a tendency to give ground with his head way up in the air and has been caught on the end of swings by Nelson, Werdum, and dos Santos. Ngannou’s reach, combined with a double jab, could make for a worse connection than when those gentlemen caught Miocic backtracking.

The alternative, and one which every ring cutter should have in the back pocket for a prolonged bout, is to take a step back and have Miocic come to him. If Ngannou refuses to engage for a minute or so the chances are he can get Miocic over-stepping the mark and running onto blows. Miocic came within a hair’s breadth of losing the title when he got a little too keen while walking Alistair Overeem down, running onto a gorgeous left straight and being dropped to his rump.

But Ngannou’s footwork—as with so much of Ngannou—is a bit of a mystery. When he came into the UFC he didn’t even have the fundamentals of footwork down, shortening his stance and advancing with his rear foot first—a method which is only really useful if you have an excellent lead-leg kicking game you want to show off, which Ngannou Taekwondon’t. More recently he has held his stance well and shown neater, phasic movement, but the fights have been so short it’s hard to know how well it will hold up—especially if he is dragged three rounds deep into a title fight.

Miocic’s trigger happy right hand seems the most likely thing to get him caught and there are a couple of ways that Ngannou could draw that out. The first is to trap him against the fence and jump on him before he can circle out—that’s the trickier way. The second is to show him something he thinks he should be capitalizing on. Most often this is a failed shot. Every time Roy Nelson ducked in on Miocic’s hips, Miocic found himself pushing Nelson off—left hand on Nelson and right hand trying to swing, with no defense in sight. It was an area of absolutely woeful defensive striking in an otherwise masterful performance, and it kept happening. The same happened with Miocic off-balanced Werdum with an inside low kick—Miocic’s hands shot out in front of him like a mummy and he began swinging the hammer again.

Ngannou has shown himself a strong man in the clinch, if he can duck in on Miocic he can either start a trade by breaking on his own terms or know that whenever Miocic makes some space he’s going to start swinging that right hand from down by his chest. That would be a great opportunity to open up with the counter combinations. Also, while Miocic is an upright boxer who offers little target for the uppercut, as soon as he sees a shot coming he throws his hips back and his head remains firmly in the path of the uppercut.

Both these lads hang their power hand down by their nips until they have thrown it, and then reel it in like the cord on an old vaccum cleaner—both are begging for the counter left hook and eating one post swing could be disastrous for each.

One massive question mark is Ngannou’s takedown defense over the rounds. In fact Ngannou’s anything over the rounds. Many were impressed when Ngannou reversed position on Overeem in the clinch and smushed him into the fence, but that was a minute-long fight. Good wrestling is like good boxing, you don’t expect to score on 100 percent of your attempts. Miocic has always been good at reaching for snatch singles and simply making his man work, then picking up takedowns later on. In Ngannou’s most recent two-round fight, against Curtis Blaydes, he slowed badly and was taken down straight into side control in round two. Blaydes let him get the underhook and come up, but it was intriguing nonetheless and the bout was stopped due to the swelling around Blaydes’s eye before the third round could commence.

Perhaps Francis Ngannou comes out and starches Stipe Miocic in another quick fight which tells us nothing more about him, but Miocic at least seems the kind of fighter—with the kind of team around him—to actually attempt to test Ngannou in his least proven areas. Either way, it is hard to imagine the two not meeting a second time. Both competitors are positively youthful by the standard of the heavyweight top ten and along with Blaydes and Tybura finally offer some hope for the future of heavyweight MMA outside of the stars from ten years ago.

Jack wrote the hit biography Notorious: The Life and Fights of Conor McGregor and scouts prospects at The Fight Primer.

Tactical Guide to Stipe Miocic vs. Francis Ngannou syndicated from https://australiahoverboards.wordpress.com