#am i only mexican enough when i'm the only mexican you know?

[fulane-de-tal]

white people are literally so batshit insane bonkers how are you saying these things genuinely where is the though you've lived here your WHOLE life how have you never heard of one of the most important locations in the city...

[sanzaibian]

I'm loving the stories! I'm heading to Mexico in a few weeks with work, but hoping to immerse myself in the culture a bit. Can you help me out?

You find yourself in front of your local Spanish-language association. You thought that taking a few classes in Spanish would help you recover some of the long forgotten classes you took in high school… though in all honesty, it won’t likely do much. You’re quite old, now, so it means that your brain cannot learn new languages as easily as it used to...

As you enter, you see the Mexican flag front and center, along with flags of many other Latin American countries, as well as that of Spain. You walk up to the receptionist, and she tells you, directly in Spanish :

“¡Bienvenidos! ¿Cuál es el motivo de usted venida? (Welcome ! What is the reason you came here ?) - Er…” You try to conjure some of the very old memories, and only manage a “Hola !” Before going back to English. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know Spanish… I’m here to take classes, in fact.”

The receptionist nods, and thinks a bit before taking out a timetable.

“Okay, well, you see, I have a... beginner’s course of Spanish in a few hours… It’s not perfect because they already started in January, but I think you can still catch up if you work hard enough.” She says, with a perfect American accent. She is visibly bilingual. - Oh, in a few hours ?”

You are quite interested, considering that you did want some beginner-level courses, but in a few hours… That’s too short to just go back home and come back later, but that’s also too long to just stay here and wait without getting bored !

The receptionist notices your embarrassment.

“You know, we are also a place where Spanish learners and native speakers can hang out. If you want, you can go to the hangout room while waiting ?” She offers sympathetically. - Well yeah, I could do that.” You nod. It may be geared towards more hard-core learners, but you can always try to immerse yourself…

You go to the room she waves you to. It isn’t loud, but there’s quite a lot of people in it, all speaking Spanish. You go and find somewhere to sit, when, on your way, someone hails you.

“¡Hola! ¿Cómo te llamas? (Hello ! (...) ?)”

Your long-buried memories start churning, as you recognize the second sentence as meaning something like “What’s your name ?”. You think a while, and then, flash of brilliance.

“Me llamo Charlie.” You answer, giving out your name in the most American of accents.

Your conversation partner smiles, and speaks quite slowly to let you understand what he means.

“¿Cuántos años tiene?” You understand the sentence to mean ‘How old are you ?’ - Er… Soy… cuarenta y dos… años ?” You try, but he shakes his head. - No, ¡es ‘Tengo ventidós’ o ‘Tengo ventidós años’!”

You blush of embarrassment as he corrects you. Yes, you now remember that to mean “I am x years old” you say “Tengo x (años)”… you even remember the worksheets from way back when… Huh, it seems like it was less far of a memory than you thought.

“Lo siento…” You excuse yourself with sentence that came back strangely fast. - ¡Jajaja!” He laughs. “¡No te preocupes! ¡Hablar español es difícil! (Don’t worry ! Speaking Spanish is difficult !)”

You are surprised how easy it is to understand him. Visibly, you had more memories than you expected ! Then, that guy continues.

“¿De dónde es? (Where are you from ?) - Soy de… Mexico… Nuevo Mexico. (I’m from… Mexico… New Mexico.)”

You almost stumbled on yourself. There seems to be something wrong with that statement. You know you’re American, but something seems wrong…

“Ah, de... ¿Nuevo México? Pero tu acento no suena asi… (Ah, from… New Mexico ? But your accent doesn’t seem like it comes from there...) - Si, es verdad… (Yes, it’s true...)” You’re about to tell him that it’s because you’re American, but then you say : “La gente dice que tengo un acento de la Ciudad de Mexico. Sabes, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl. (People say that I have an accent from Mexico City. You know, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl (?).)”

Wait, why do people say that ? You never went to Mexico City ! Okay, yes, you did go there for the holidays, after all, your father lives there… Wait, your parents aren’t separated !

You get more and more confused as multiple versions of your history start competing with each other.

“¡Ah, tenía razón! Puedo verlo en tu cara que eres… eh… ¿mexiqueño? (Ah, I was right ! I can see by your face that you are… er… from Mexico City ?) - ¡Jajaja!” You laugh. “¡No se dice ‘mexiqueño’! ¡Se dice capitalino, o chilango si estás familiarizado! (You don’t say “Mexiqueño” ! You say “Capitalino”, or “Chilango” if you’re familiar !)” You don’t quite know where this knowledge comes from. It seems like something only locals would know… - Perdón, soy chileno, no lo sabía… (Sorry, I’m Chilean, I didn’t know...)”

You smile at him. Of course, he couldn’t know that, you’re familiar with these terms because you’re a Chilango through and through ! Born in the city, lived in the city ! Yet you furrow your brows, as something still feels off.

Somehow, you’re convinced that you’re American, even though it seems to be a more and more distant fact. Well, when you look down and see those tan arms, you know that you aren’t, like, a total gringo, you’re at least part Latino…

“¿Cómo es la vida allá? (How is life there ?)” The Chilean guy asks you, a torrent of memories coming back (?) to you. - ¡Es complicado de describir! Pero México es muy dinámico, ¡entonces siempre es interesante! (It’s difficult to describe ! But Mexico is very dynamic, so it’s always interesting !)” You think back to how frantic life is over there… and how much you love that. “Especialmente comparado con aquí, parece que esta citudad está muerta… ¡En México siempre hay un xochitzin con el que te puedes topar! (Especially when compared to here, this city seems dead… In Mexico, there’s always an xochitzin (?) you can run into !)”

As the Chilean nods, you keep getting quite confused. You know you’re from Mexico City, you know you’re American, yet somehow there is like… a piece of the puzzle missing. You keep on thinking strange words like “Mexihco Hueyaltepetl” or “ihni”, and you know it’s not Spanish, nor English – not that you would know too much of that language.

You continue thinking as your body starts feeling strange, as you feel it shifting. You put your hand on your forehead and sense your wrinkles relaxing. You feel quite queasy…

“¿Estás bien? (Are you alright ?) - Me siento un poco mareada… (I feel a bit dizzy…) - Sólo tienes que ir al baño. ¿Quieres que te ayude? (Just go to the toilets. You want me to help ?) - No, estará bien. Tlazohcamati. (No, it’s gonna be alright. (???)) - Okay… eh... ¿Eres indígenas? (Okay… er… Are you a Native American ?)”

You don’t answer the Chilean, only giving him a small wave to thank him. You find your way to the toilets, still queasy, and look at yourself.

You’ve got your usual short black hair, your nascent beard that doesn’t want to come along, your brownish tint, as well as your light muscles. Nothing looks out of place, yet something seems wrong.

Is it the fact that you are so youthful ? You know you’re quite twinky. Is it the fact that your skin looks weird ? You know that it’s clearer than the other’s because your mother is gringo.

You feel even more queasy, as you feel your entire body tensing. Memories come back of your time in the gym, but also of the time with all your xochitzmeh (bros)… Yes, you now remember how you’re the son of an American linguist and a Nahua man. How you grew up speaking Nahuatl along with the other kids from around Mexico City. How you started going to the gym to prove that gays aren’t cuiltemeh (sissies/fags). How you now cringe to that line of thought, yet continue doing it to attract guys.

As the pieces of your life go back together, your queasiness dissipates, and you feel better. You drink a bit of water, and then you go back to the hangout room. As you go in there, the Chilean hails you once again.

“¡Charlie! ¿Esta mejor? (Charlie ! Doing better ?)”

Laughable, “Charlie” is only the nickname your grandparents use when you’re at their house… Why does that guy even know it ?

“¡Mi nombre no es Charlie, es Carlos! ¡Carlos Zopiyactle! (My name isn’t Charlie, it’s Carlos ! Carlos Zopiyactle !)” You say in a very matter-of-fact fashion. - Lo siento, pensé que te llamabas Charlie… (Sorry, I thought that you were named Charlie...) - No es nada. (It’s nothing.)” You answer with a very Mexican accent, aspirating your ‘s’. “Pero, tengo que irme ahora. ¡Adiós! (However, I need to go now. Goodbye !) - ¡Adiós, Carlos! (Goodbye, Carlos !)”

You leave the room, go past the receptionist who smiles at you a bit weirdly, and make your way back to your grandparent’s home. You don’t really like going there, because you’re not very good in English, but eh. Pleasing your mom is a good enough reason.

Suddenly, you hear a very familiar-sounding sound from your phone. You open it, seeing a notification, smile, and answer it before calling your mother.

“¡Cualli teotlaltzintli! ¡Amo niyaz tlacualpan! (Good evening ! I’m not going to be there for dinner !) - Pff… ¡Aic timotlamahzehua nanmonahuac! (Pff… You never come eat with us !) - Nomati, pero tengo cosas que hacer. (I know, but I have things to do.)” You say, switching back a bit to Spanish. - ¿Zannima tihual mocuepaz? (You will come back soon ?) - Quema. Nantli, nimitz nequi. (Yes. Mom, I love you.) - Ohuihqui nimitz nequi. (I love you too.)”

You finish the call and smile. She doesn’t have to know that you’re missing the family dinners to be pounded. Those jocks on Grindr don’t know what your pseudonym “Moiztactlaca” means, but it sounds foreign, and they love it.

Soon, you’re going back home to Mexico City, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t take advantage of all the hot guys here in the meantime !

[doberbutts]

(Some other guy entirely here) I do think there's not much of a reason to be so against the terms tma/tme though, and I don't really understand why some people are? Like, in the same way we want a word to describe our experiences so do transfems, and while I do believe that all trans people are affected by transphobia and misogyny, it's obviously also true that we're affected by it differently depending on how we present, cause otherwise we'd all be satisfied with just the term transphobia (not saying anything new here so far)

So, since it just so happened that the term transmisogyny was coined to mean specifically the oppression transfems face (regardless of what anyone might feel on the matter, that is what it means in practice), what's really so wrong with having terminology to specify whether you're affected by it or not in online discussions of specifically transmisogyny? I'd think that would be relevant enough information, and you're not obligated to share it unless you want to.

I think what's really bothering a lot of people is that these terms exist for half of our community but there's no acceptable equivalent for the other half, and there's constant backlash against attempts to fill that void in the language. But that's not the fault of anyone who advocates for the use of tme/tma, or rather, they are separate issues that I don't believe should be conflated even if the proponents of tme/tma are the same people who are against specific terms for transmasc oppression.

When we do this, from the pov of trans women we are the ones rejecting their terminology and trying to silence them when they talk about their discrimination, and since we know exactly how that feels, I think we as a community should take a step back on the matter and just let it be.

Just because we feel dismissed when it comes to a similar matter doesn't mean we should dismiss in turn.

Not that anyone needs my permission or anything for this but:

I don't really have any problem with the words transmisogyny or trans-misogyny, as I think they are valuable labels to discuss a specific intersection of transphobia and misogyny.

I am not sure I necessarily have a problem with the terms TMA or TME themselves, outside of that I think it is not possible to be exempt from oppression because it will apply to you even if the label itself is wrong. This is also how hate crime and discrimination law works in this country- it is both your label and what the offender thinks of you, not just one or the other.

In other words, the guy who screamed at me about how I'm a Mexican is incorrect because I'm not Mexican, but it is still considered to be discrimination against Mexicans because it was his hatred of Mexicans that fueled the attack. It doesn't mean that actual Mexicans aren't the actual targets or this, but it does mean that it's not possible for me to be exempt from anti-Mexican sentiment. It doesn't mean that hatred of Mexicans doesn't exist, it does mean that if I want to stop getting screamed at for saying non-English words while visibly brown (I said pate, which is FRENCH and not Spanish, in reference to a can of dog food he was buying), then I need to ally myself with Mexicans and see what I can do to help decrease this hatred of Mexicans within my country.

What I do have a problem with is how these words are used and applied.

Caster Semenya is a "TME" intersex woman who was caught by transmisogynist Olympic rulings intended to hurt trans women, and to this day is still not recognized as a woman. How is this exempt from transmisogyny? She is literally being affected by transmisogyny- and interphobia, and misogynoir, and lesbophobia. And there are more examples than that, but this will already be a long enough post.

Moreover, I'm finding a lot of hypocrisy in the theory itself, labeling certain instances of oppression as things only TMA people experience and then refusing to listen when TME people say that they experience it too. I don't really care what or how people talk about their own experiences, but I do think it's a little ridiculous to be told that someone else who is not me can tell me what I experience better than I can. And then refuse to listen when I say that I have felt the hurts they're saying don't apply to me.

If TMA/TME had stayed within the limits you've set, being about descriptors of your own personal experience rather than trying to apply theory to entire demographics in a way that very little other theorycrafting does, I wouldn't have cared. Unfortunately that's not how it's being used and I don't like that.

[leclerc-s]

reluctant parents

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penelopetrevino posted new stories

he said, 'amor, i have a surprise for you.' i'm patiently waiting to see what it is. update: the surprise is just lando... again 🙄

penelope trevino quick, when someone says, 'i have surprise for you' what does one normally think?

rowan todd well, last time pierre told me that we got a dog, so a dog.

natalia ruiz a dog, charlie did the same thing.

zoya torres well he said 'we have a problem' and it was his parents, whom i was meeting for the first time ever.

mick schumacher considering i told freya 'i did a thing' and i had gotten angie, i'd think a dog.

daniel jones-ricciardo i got a cat the last time she said that.

daphne jones-ricciardo i got a heart attack because it was followed by the words 'i got in an accident'

penelope trevino I TOLD YOU TWO!!

lando norris but aren't i a nice surprise? penelope trevino you have a girlfriend, spend time with her for the love of god. bailey winters he just tells me to spend time with max and p so he can spend time with his boyfriend.

carlos sainz but amor, you love lando!

mae jones-verstappen praying carlos sainz lives to see another day.

isabella perez he may have survived appendicitis but he will not survive pissing off penny.

pato o'ward he's about to learn that you never piss off a mexican woman. dulce perez rip carlos sainz, you would've hated to see max win another gp

gael perez rip carlos sainz, oscar can finally let out a sigh of relief

oscar piastri why am i always getting involved in shit?

lewis hamilton does carlos hate oscar because lando loves oscar and carlos wishes that was him?

fernando alonso he wants that mclaren seat back sebastian vettel you two are the biggest instigators in this group chat. fernando alonso it's a talent

rhys jones it's like watching a tennis match but only one cares and the other doesn't

penelope trevino BACK TO MY PROBLEM PEOPLE!

lance stroll carlos has attachment issues and lando imprinted on him like a baby duck.

pierre gasly alternative: carlos and lando have been cheating on their girlfriends with each other.

bailey winters i hate that i can actually believe that. penelope trevino why is that actually believable?

carlos sainz we are not that bad.

zoya torres if trevor noah can make a joke about lando looking like more of a couple with his former teammate (carlos) than his own girlfriend (bailey) it's bad.

lando norris we may have a problem.

penelope trevino you think?

penelopetrevino and landonorris have posted new stories

he's crashing another date. i could probably hurt him. i may be smiling but i need a bottle of patron to get me through the day. she's going to kill me. mclaren you know who to blame when i mysteriously die

penelope trevino quick, say something so i won't kill lando.

rowan todd you'll go to jail?

penelope trevino not good enough

isabella perez jesus will never let you forget this.

penelope trevino we're getting there.

zoya torres you'll never be able to see little jewel again?

penelope trevino thank you for that reminder zoya.

bailey winters i can call his mom for you? that's what i tend to do when he pisses me off or i call ria and she reminds him that i wrote a heartbreaking album about him.

bailey winters and if none of that works i call max, who laughs in his face for hours on end.

daphne jones-ricciardo or you could talk to them, like normal people

penelope trevino you think i haven't tried that yet? it's impossible to get through to them daph!

dulce perez they're like his work parents, he needs them around 24/7

isabella perez personally, i wouldn't let this slide.

mae jones-verstappen throw him into the slammer!!

natalia ruiz all of you guys have third wheels that suck. i love my third wheel.

penelope trevino not all of us can have a joris natalia!

natalia ruiz at least it's lando and not like pierre, who would be an annoying third wheel.

rowan todd okay, that's my boyfriend nat.

natalia ruiz you cannot be publicly defending a man who makes 🐶 jokes or calls himself tripod

bailey winters EMBARRASSING!!

rowan todd your boyfriend would rather spend time third wheeling his best friend than spend time with you.

bailey winters

rowan todd never make fun of me again bailey.

mae jones-verstappen she was obviously starving

isabella perez somewhere on the coast.

rowan todd you two are comedians.

daphne jones-ricciardo i see now why this group chats is named what it is.

daphne jones-ricciardo you're all fucked in the head.

natalia ruiz daphne's never one to reply but she always roasts the shit out of us.

penelope trevino i'm just resigned to the fact that lando is never going anywhere.

penelope trevino he is my sea urchin.

daphne jones-ricciardo this is why lando always crashes your dates.

dulce perez it's an irrational fear daph!!

daphne jones-ricciardo NO THE FUCK IT ISN'T!!

zoya torres so many problems so little time to digest it all.

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lando.jpg and others

penelopetrevino photo dump but half of it is me with a beer (my only company because carlos always ditches me for lando) and the other half is carlos with his true love (lando)

tagged: carlossainz55, landonorris

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landonorris i am his true love, glad to see you finally admitting it

↳ penelopetrevino go spend time with your own girlfriend. rowan's roasting her in the groupchat.

↳ pierregasly WHAT GROUP CHAT?

↳ isabellaperez ABORT MISSION!! THEY CAN'T KNOW!!

↳ alex_albon FAKE PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!!

user26 i would rather die than let this happen to me.

↳ user60 what makes you think penelope has a choice in the matter?

↳ user26 that's very true

user89 those texts from lando are foul!!

baileywinters i say we dump them and date each other instead.

↳ penelopetrevino now that's a good idea.

↳ landonorris hold up what?

↳ carlossainz55 no.

user02 and when these two get married is lando going to interrupt the wedding for shits and giggles?

↳ landonorris that's actually not a bad idea.

↳ penelopetrevino you pull that shit on my wedding day and i'll hurt you.

patriciooward personally i would run him over with my car but that's just me.

↳ landonorris STOP GIVING HER IDEAS!

baileywinters contrary to popular belief, we do actually spend time together.

↳ user57 i would've thrown hands if norizz was neglecting his relationship to crash carlos' dates

↳ landonorris why am i always getting threatened with violence?

↳ isabellaperez because you pull shit like this.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! and it's another late night update!!! woooo!!!

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[flwersgarden]

cuando caiga la luna. ノ⠀ ू ໋ ׅ ১

pairings : yandere!namor x mexican female reader.

summary : queen ramonda takes you hostage when she finds out you're namor's beloved. and let's just say, she found to regret that decision.

includes : soft yandere, kinda ooc namor ?? (i mean he kinda dark in the comics so idk), some aggression towards reader (not from namor's part), BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER SPOILERS!!

author's note : Y'ALL KNEW I HAD TO DO THIS Y'ALL KNEWWWW anyways yes, i am alive and yes, im gonna still write the reqs you sent. im just in a tenoch huerta mood k? and yes, this is (mainly) for my mexican girlies that may be lurking if so hi, let's be friends- anyways a lot of spanglish in the sense of going from spanish dialogue to english narrative but hey, no one can stop me so.

buy me a kofi !

“ please, let me go! you don't understand! ”

your cries are nonexistent for the queen of wakanda as she strolls to the center of her palace, where her throne sits, accompanied by her guards and riri williams, the scientist, who watches you from behind; feeling quite bad for you, even if your rumored god boyfriend is trying to kill her.

“ please, queen ramonda, let me go! please! ”

“ no. ” is the only answer she gives you but it encourages you into trying to make her understand, arriving in the room.

“ you don't get it-. ”

“ what could i possibly not get?! ” she abruptly turns around to face you, her guards stop walking and by the sudden stop, you fall to the ground, in your knees.

you sob as you raise your head. “ i don't want to go with him. ”

queen ramonda raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

“ and no. i don't find you dumb. ” you denied, knowing what she was thinking. “ but i need to explain before he... ”

you sob again.

riri walks to be next to queen ramonda, watching you with a confused gaze while the queen remains the same.

“ i don't love him. he keeps me hostage in his... kingdom. ” you try your best to explain in english, your words stumbling with one to another, the desperation is palpable. “ he has kept an eye on me since i was of age, watching me from afar until one day, he asked me to be his queen. ”

silence.

“ and when i refused, he burned the village i loved to the ground-. ” a sob interrupted you before the ugly cries took control of your body, your hands were the only thing stopping you from hitting the ground.

you missed queen ramonda's surprised gaze.

“ woah. the fuck? ” riri asks, pointing at you.

“ she's lying-. ” queen ramonda starts saying with a calm tone.

“ I'M NOT! ” you scream in frustration. you were tired of being ignored. you were tired of being his.

queen ramonda and riri watch you again.

“ i want to go home. ” you mumble. “ i miss my family. ” you shake your head, trying not to cry again, your eyes hurt. the whole thing, the moment, made you vulnerable. he warned you about that.

queen ramonda looks at you before she suddenly knelt to be in the same position as you were.

“ child. look at me. ”

you obey, your red eyes making her almost gasp.

“ what did he do to you? and be honest. ” the last part was whispered.

you sniff before answering. “ he took me. lost made me like one of them... he changed the poison. his people helped. ” venom laced your tone.

the memory of multiple strong people holding you still while namor forced your mouth open to drink that blue drink invaded your mind making you close your eyes for a few seconds.

“ why are you not one of them then? ” riri asks.

“ he changed it. ” you repeat. “ he changed it because it would've killed me. ” you scoff before chuckling with no humor behind it. “ it's surprising how worried he was of me dying... while he smiled at the screams of my family being killed. ”

you turn a hand into a fist.

the rollercoaster of emotions was enough to make you sick.

silence takes over the moment again.

“ then why are you stubborn about us letting you go? ”

“ because if you don't. ” you whisper before clearing your throat. “ i'm afraid he will kill you. ”

she scoffs. and just as she's about to answer, a loud sound could be heard.

you sob. “ he's here... ” you mutter, covering your face. “ i told you, i told you-. ”

“ stand back. ” queen ramonda orders to riri.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

namor walks out of the water, one of his best warrior stands in front of him. the amount of sounds block his ears from hearing your breathing, making him frustrated.

“ Kux in reina. ” namor speaks, looking around in hopes to catch you.

“ Yéetel Ramonda. ”

namor growls, slightly turning his head to the side when he suddenly raises his arm; wood destroyed at the impact of it. he turns, seeing a buff man's surprised gaze.

he hates to be distracted.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

meanwhile, riri helps you stand up, you grab her arm with your hand while the other covers your mouth. you are still trembling.

queen ramonda seems to be taking it all in. the destruction. the chaos. her people running far away from namor and his people.

you stopped sobbing from fear of him finding out where you were.

everything is silent between you two, the glass seemed to cover the faint sounds of screaming.

until you start to notice how close namor is.

you start to shake your head, taking steps backwards, riri stumbles with you.

“ h-hey, stop. ” she whispers, trying to calm you down but your gaze is trapped.

and when riri sees your mouth opening and your eyes wet, she turns.

and namor is standing in front of queen ramonda. his gaze is animalistic, almost like if fangs would grow at any moment, his heavy breathing scares you the most. because he is not tired. he is angry.

suddenly, something attacks him from behind making him loose his focus on you and your captors.

you turn to face riri. “ i have to give myself in. ”

she immediately shakes her head. “ no-. ”

“ more people will die- let me! ” you force yourself from her, making her keep a tight grip on you.

️️ ️️️️️️️️️

after destroying that annoying ship shuri was in control of, namor turns towards you again.

he sees you battling with the scientist, trying to escape, while queen ramonda looks at him with mocking gaze.

he screams as he charges towards the three of you, his strong body bumping with the tough glass.

but, the glass starts to break with every hit so the queen walks back towards you and riri.

everything seemed to move in slow motion after that.

you trying to stop riri from holding you, queen ramonda trying to protect both of you and riri keeping you still with a hug.

a hug born from fear.

and just as you could push riri away, the glass breaks.

the impact of water hitting you made you dizzy and everything went black.

you feel like you're floating. small sounds of kids laughing and running around could be heard. chatting among adults while a fireplace is cracked.

a little smile appears in your lips as you see your parents, wearing their usual day to day clothes. you seem to now be able to walk.

your mother extends her arm towards you, as she usually did whenever she wanted a hug.

“ mi niña. ” she says with so much endearment you feel yourself growing close from crying.

“ mamá. ” you whisper with a sad melancholic tone, extending your hand as well.

when you touched her hand it felt nice. warm.

your mother smiles. “ te extrañamos tanto. ”

“ y yo a ustedes. ” you sob as you say that. and just as you were about to hug her. to touch her more. you see light coming from one side of the black room you're in. the water that was touching your feet moves aggressively.

“ tienes que regresar. ” she says making you turn to her.

“ no. no quiero. ”

your mother lets you go. you gasp.

“ no quiero ir, mamá, no me hagas esto. ” you whisper just as the water starts to drag you away.

“ ¡NO! ” you try to free yourself from the wet substance, trying to run towards your parents.

“ PELEA POR MÍ. ¡PELEA POR MÍ! ”

you breathe through your mouth, sitting up immediately as water leaves your lungs, and you start to cough.

cheering is heard from around you.

“ Le reina táan viva! ”

you look around, the people from talokan are surrounding you. you scoff before looking in front of you. there is a wide sea. and you feel quite uncomfortable.

your hands grab the ground and plays with it. seems to be sand.

“ mi amor. ”

you turn abruptly to your right side.

namor is sitting there, watching you with a smile.

“ estamos felices de que estés viva. ”

you keep your gaze in his. “ yo no. ”

he chuckles. “ pues yo sí. ” he stands up offering you his hand to which you ignore, standing up for yourself.

you stumble so he catches you, his grip tight; giving you the hint that he wasn't going to let you go.

“ la reina de wakanda es valiente. pero no inteligente. ” he suddenly says, making you remember what happened in the first place.

you give a small 'hmm' as a way to let him know you're listening.

“ raptarte es una cosa. ”

he grabs your arm and gracefully touches the small bruises riri's hand left you.

“ lastimarte... ” he whispers, jaw clenched before turning his back to you. you keep yourself in the same stance while he walks towards one of his warriors. “ eso es otra cosa que no puedo perdonar. ”

he grabs a box from the warrior's hands and walks to you again, his smile seemed brighter.

“ un regalo. como muestra de perdón por no haberte rescatado antes. ”

you rip the box open, tired of his dramatics.

but the sight made you gasp and throw it into the ground.

your back is towards everyone, as the sea waves barely touches the box material, hiding your traumatized gaze.

you tremble, your hand covering your mouth as you feel like vomiting the liquid in your stomach.

namor walks slowly towards you, hugging you from behind, his cold jewelry hitting your warm skin.

his head slightly hitting yours in a lovers embrace.

“ ahora ellos sabrán que a ti, nunca se te toca. ”

two hearts lay in the sand, the sea touching them before swallowing them whole.

he smiles, kissing your head with his eyes closed as he breathes your scent.

you are safe now, he thinks. you are safe.

the trembling it's because of the cold. the tears are of happiness.

now the both of you, along his people, have to return to talokan to prepare.

after all.

there's a war to win.

[hikaru-sama]

Vent / Ramble

PEOPLE WHO USE GOOGLE TRANSLATE PLEASE READ THIS.

Disclaimer: I AM NOT ATTACKING ANYONE. I am simply venting about Miguel O'Hara writers on Ao3 and Tumblr (mostly Ao3)

Honestly Ao3 writers make me hate reading sometimes.

Like, I love Miguel O'Hara because he's half Mexican half Irish (canonically) and as a Spanish girl (from Spain) it was a pleasant experience when I first came across him since I can understand perfectly both Spanish and English without the use of a translator (if there are complicated words ofc I'll need help but you get the point).

I went to Ao3 to look for fanfics and series (since there's practically nothing on Wattpad 💀) and just- ugh. Trust me when I say it made me want to choke the life out of the writers or brutally murder them.

I read a Miguel x FEM! Reader and the Spanish bits that were there refered the reader as a MALE.

AND IT WASN'T ONLY ONE.

I know Spanish doesn't have gender-neutral words but come on. It just makes me hate reading at all, I've seen some of it here on Tumblr too and UGH.

Honestly. I know I'm not Mexican but I think I am qualified enough to help Miguel writers because most of the time they do mistakes on BASIC GRAMMAR and it just infuriates me.

NEVER USE GOOGLE TRANSLATE, THAT SHIT IS UNRELIABLE. ASK ME OR ANYONE WHO KNOWS SPANISH, LIKE IT ISN'T HARD.

[spicywhenspeaking]

If I'm There Chapter: Twenty-Five

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Taglist: @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @to-be-written @concretenoah @thebadchic @madomens @samanthasgone @myownthoughts12 @missduffsblog @jilliemiw86 @malerieee @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @badomenslrh @robabankfuckmickeymouse @darknightstarryeyes @xxkittenkissesxx @mitchhbitch @sorrowsofsilence @blackveilomens

note: I'm sorry I've been gone for so long! I took a much needed writing break but am excited to get back into a schedule. I can't guarantee when I'll upload but I'm sure it won't be another 3 months between updates...lol sorry again.

“Oh shit!” Noah squeals as his roller-blades skitter back and forth trying to catch his balance as Erin circles the two of us as we stake alongside her. I’ve taken her skating several times and have figured out how to remain upright, although I’m no expert I can keep up with the other roller moms. Noah on the other hand is like an unsteady infant taking his first steps. Before he falls on his ass again he reaches out and grabs onto me in an attempt to remain standing. 

“Ah! No, don't! Noah!” I cry out as I lose my balance and my stakes fly out from under me and we both fall onto a heap on the floor. I end up on my back with Noah looming over me having caught himself with his hands before crushing me completely. He’s close enough that the short hair that falls in front of his face tickles my forehead. 

“Oh, sorry” he says and his breath caresses my cheek. My voice is caught in my throat. I know there is a blush creeping up my neck but I ignore it as we shuffle to get back onto our feet. Sliding and clinging onto the side of the rink to remain upright. 

Laughing loudly he looks at me with a smile that takes up half of his face, “guess I’m in need of practice.” I return a small laugh and nod in agreement. 

Erin continues to circle us with a quizzical look on her face, “y’all are funny. Let's go! A few more turns and then can we go get ice cream?!” Giggling she rushes off as we slowly follow with Noah refusing to let go of my hand.

“Sorry, I really don’t want to bust my ass again.” Squeezing his hand in encouragement we continue forward after our daughter. “No worries Noah, I’ll catch you if you fall again.” 

Noah’s POV

I almost stumble again at her words. She's using the same words I wrote for her all those years ago back at me. Does she even realize what she said? Probably not. Maybe? I shake it off for now as she pulls me forward. 

We go around the skating rink hand in hand and I selfishly hold as tight as I can, only letting go once we’ve exited the rink and sat down to take off our stakes. 

“So what's good for ice cream around here?” I ask while we turn in our stakes before we head out the door into the hot summer air. “I like Amy's! They have lots of yummy flavors!” Erin cheers. She’s walking between us, holding both of our hands. I was shocked at first when she grabbed my hand but it filled my heart with so much joy—more than I ever thought possible. 

“What do you like to get at Amy’s Erin?” I asked while seated in the passenger seat of the car. “Hmmm I like getting sweet cream with Oreos and rainbow sprinkles! It’s sooo good!”

Her excitement is contagious as Natalie’s smile is also spread wide across her face as she listens to Erin. “What about you Nat? What’s your favorite?” I turn my gaze to her and the summer heat has given her a glowy sheen of sweat on her cheeks causing her blush to shine.

She looks so beautiful. I want to kiss her. I wish I could.

“I like to get the Mexican vanilla with strawberries and chocolate chips, I think you’ll like their stuff. Lots of choices.” 

I turn up the radio and Erin squeals with joy! “This was in the movie Aunt Hales and I watched!” 

“Reaching for something in the distance..” 

Natalie sings along with her, “so close you can almost taste it release your inhibitions.”

The song is too good not to sing along, so as we drive to get ice cream, I find myself singing along as well.

“Feel the rain on your skin, no one else can feel it for you! Only you can let it in..”

Did I think six months ago I would be singing Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield in the car with my daughter and the girl I've always loved? Not at all, but this is something I wouldn’t trade for anything.  I won’t let her get away this time, I’m just going to have to play the long game and hopefully, she will trust me with her heart again. 

Hours later, after some amazing ice cream Natalie and Erin are dropping me off at my Airbnb. I chose something that wasn’t too far from their house and there’s a pool. Erin was excited about that. She was running from room to room looking at all of the spaces.

“I got this place because it has lots of room, so if Erin ever wanted to spend the night she would have her own space,” I say to Natalie. She smiles softly, “she’d love that Noah. Maybe when she gets back from art camp?” she responds.

“And of course you two can come over and use the pool whenever, even next week Erins at camp? You could come over and hang out? The other guys will be here Thursday” I ask nervously. God, why am I so nervous, I’ve known Nat for years. It’s not weird to ask her to hang out…right?

“I would love that, I’m free on Wednesday?” She says looking out at the yard as Erin runs in the grass next to the water. 

So she knows the guys won’t be here until Thursday but wants to come over on Wednesday.. that’s good? right? Stop reading into it man, just live.

“Wednesday is amazing, I’ll grab snacks.” god I sound pathetic. 

She giggles while we watch Erin take off doing cartwheels now, “she is an endless stream of energy.” she comments quietly. “She really is, I’d like some of that. I’m exhausted.” 

Natalie’s energy shifts slightly, “oh you’re right. You’ve been on the move all day. We should get out of your hair so you can relax.” 

“Oh- no that’s-” I try to catch her but she’s already at the backdoor quietly calling for Erin to head home.  Why did I say that?…idiot. 

“Noah! This house is awesome!! I can’t wait to come over this summer! After my camp next week I’m totally coming over to swim!” she says as she runs up to give her a goodbye hug. 

I return the hug, wrapping her tight in my arms. “Can’t wait for it kiddo, I’ll grab some floats this weekend. It’ll be a fun summer for sure.” I say looking up to see Natalie snapping what I’m sure she was hoping was an incognito photo. “Send that to me please?”

She nods and they move to exit, “Nat, wait.” I reach and softly grab her arm, pulling her quickly into a hug. “I’ll see you later, I had fun today.” 

“I had fun too Noah.” her hands squeeze my sides briefly before she releases and they head to their car. They pull out of the driveway and a thought hits me.

I rush to my guitar and sit down to get the idea out while it’s fresh in my head. 

I can wait for you at the bottom I can stay away if you want me to I can wait for years if I gotta Heaven knows I ain’t getting over you Can we try again? When we’re not so different Can we make amends? Why can’t we just pretend?

I jot down the slightly altered lyrics on a random scrap of paper I see in my guitar case and shut it. 

I finish unpacking and jump into the shower to rinse off. I hop out at the exact time I see my phone ringing, Erin is calling. 

“Hey, kiddo! What’s up?”

“Hey, Noah! I was wondering if you would come with us on Sunday to drop me off at camp. It’s a couple of hours away though so if you have plans I understand.” 

“I don’t have anything going on, I’d love to tag along.” 

“MOM! HE SAID YES! - sweetheart I thought we agreed we’d call tomorrow? Noah’s had a long day - I was too excited…I’m sorry Noah.” 

“Hey, it’s no worries kiddo! You can call me whenever you need too.”

“Mom?! Did you hear that? Noah said it’s okay!”

I hear Natty’s laugh on the other end of the phone and it kills me that we’re not just all together laughing. Lately that’s all I can think about. All I want. 

“Well I am supposed to look at what clothes I’m packing for camp right now but I’ll see you on Sunday!” 

“I’ll see you Sunday kiddo.” 

Natalie POV

“So is it like a date?” Haylie asks. Were sitting on her bed later that night after having packed Erin’s camp bag and her going to bed. 

“It’s not a date! It’s swimming. We’re just two old friends hanging out.” the moment the words are out of my mouth I know it’s bullshit. I don’t know if it will ever feel like just two old friends with Noah. 

“I’d argue with you but I know you don’t even believe what you just said so it’s pretty pointless.” I throw my head back onto the pillows and sigh in defeat.

“I wish I believed it. I wish I could just be normal around him. It’s like I’m a teenager all over again…do I remember everything bad that happened? Of course..but I also remember all of the good things..ugh! Why are feelings so complicated?! Like am I a horrible person with no backbone if I forgive him for everything and just let him back into my life like no time has passed? Or am I a bitch if I keep him at arm’s length for the rest of our lives despite my feelings for him because of mistakes we made as kids?” 

I feel the bed dip down as Haylie sits down next to me. “Unfortunately I don’t have the answer for you, but I know you are not a horrible person or a bitch. Life is complicated and confusing and all you can do is consider what is best for you and Erin. I’ll support you no matter what you choose to do…but what I will say is that since you two started talking again…you’ve been different. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.” 

She’s right. I’ve felt happier than I have in years since I reconnected with Noah. That has to mean something. 

Maybe it’s time to just let myself be open to what could happen.

Could we even have anything like that again? 

Under the same Texas moon, two lonely hearts thought in tandem if the other may be open to loving them again.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑; Part 1

Summary: Having to work with Mexican Special Forces to take down a terrorist group so that they wouldn't bomb a place and make them chicken nuggets, you had to return to where once you lost the two dearest friends you had.... People that could have been more, if your life worked out differently.

A/N: Reader's codename "Night" is entirely made up by me.... And excuse my bad attempt at accents.

A/N: Though I'm mew to this... REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR COD: MW2

¹: Do I sound like I'm a newcomer to you, Colonel?

²: All those informations couldn't have been uploaded to my brain in my mother's womb, no?

Pairings: Alejandro Vargas x Fem!Reader x Rodolfo Parra( romantic), Task Force 141( platonic) , hints on GhostSoap

"Ouch, Soap! Come on, be a bit gentle man!"

"If ya stopped fo' a second, I wouldn' have to be harsh." You groaned under Soap's teasing eyes and Ghost's irritated yet still soft staring while the plane you three had to take was bringing you to Mexico, somewhere you never thought you would have missed at all. The mission you three took before this was kind of a disaster. The raid in Al-Mazrah and trying to get a hold of Hassan was a hardwork, between the many snipers protecting the building even though there was no one and learning that Hassan already fled out, made all three of you, to put it simply, mad.

Like mad,mad.

Sure, Soap tried to mask it with his god-awful jokes while Ghost just stared at the ground with his usual and deadly, unreadable Ghost-stare, as you called it... You were only able to sit straight thanks to Soap for his help with bandaging your wound on your side and give him a bright smile- one that the team would make fun of since the brightness of it was the polar opposite of your nickname.

All bright and shining smile, on the Night's face...

Hissing through the slight pain that went through your spine in little electroshocks, you got up and sat down next to Simon, slightly leaning back with your legs kicking the air aimlessly. You didn't have to talk, and neither of you liked it when one spoke only to crush a comforting silence, you just laid your hand on his thigh with a reassuring smile. You knew the tendency he had, blaming himself for one single failure when he won against many people.  

But the battles he was apparently fighting inside was far harsher and tougher to him.

Ghost really lived up to his name, he was like a ghost. No face, no backstory... And if you weren't the one of the few that was lucky to gain his trust, you wouldn't know his real name or that slight show of half of his face whenever he would smoke around you.

Why do you never let us call you Simon, you once asked him while you were eating your sandwich while he was smoking next to you outside. A peaceful night it had been, apart from Price nagging you to eat healthy when the lungs of that man was like a coal. The man you think I am, Simon, is long dead. Here, I'm only Ghost, he gruffly replied to your question after finishing and pulled his hood up while his feet kicked the pebbles, not looking up at your innocent-eating visage that stopped mid-action and a sad pout settled in. You didn't say much after that, sensing that it was something very sensitive for him...

And though, he still didn't fully trust you with his story... It was okay as long as he was comfortable around you.

"Get your shit together, bestie! We're landing soon enough!"

"I'm not your bestie, Night- what the hell does that even-"

"Oh, shit! Look at this, Soap! We're in Mexico already!" Soap grinned at your enthusiasm while Ghost groaned, a smile staying hidden beneath his balaclava. The Scottish man let out an amused how you seemed happy and excited even after a tough mission and a rough wound, looking down at the green scenery like a kid having her first vacation, but looked out the window anyways, kinda getting where it was coming from.

But the next words that left your mouth made even Ghost look up at you curiously.

"Damn, It's been a long time since I've been back here! Feels like nostalgy..."

"Wait, you... you're from here?"

"Uhh, kinda? After my parents died, my uncle who used to live close to here, Las Almas, took me in and raised me until I was 14 or something..." your voice got relatively silent in the end and a sad frown rested on your face, a sight that neither of the men had ever seen.

It was obvious that the rest of that story, your story, was gonna get darker from here. It was always like that for everyone in the military, no one really had a good, white-fenced family life...

One way or another, all of the troubled ones got sweeped in the military work.

"What happened then? How did you end up in the USA?" Soap asked the only question that was ringing in both of their heads, thinking-and hoping- that what they thought wasn't the case.

And knowing this, and seeing it on their hopefull gazes, you turned to look out the window one last time before the plane landed, and a harder look settled in. "He died in front of my eyes, Laswell was there for an operation and tried to stop the one who killed him... Apparently she failed, and as a repentance I believe, she took me in."

"So you haven't been here ever since than?" Soap asked curiously when you sat down to buckle up while the plane started to lower down. Your brows knitted, mind racing to find a memory if you had been there but when nothing came, you shook your head as no. "Nope, that's the first time... Oh, the amount of irritating Spanish jokes I'm going to make to irritate those guys, hehehe..."

Ghost only sighed at your evil cackle, rolling his eyes when Soap's eye beamed at the idea. And you smiled even wider when his eyes met yours with the same amount of mischief but soon dropped when he eyed you sadly. "I woulda wanted to join, but I don' know Spanish, lass..."

You grunted angrily, shuffling on your seat that was more like a cat kneading a soft blanket which made him chuckle and ruffle your hair. "Don't worry, Soap! Spanish isn't that hard that I'm sure you will learn a few words when we leave here-AND STOP MESSING MY HAIR! JUST BECAUSE I'M IN MILITARY DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T CARE MY LUXUR....."

Ghost would never admit, rather die, but he only tolerated yours because you were the only one who was brave enough to bitch out the General while being completely unfazed and playing a game on your phone.

Alejandro, to say it simply, didn't expect to see a woman in the team that was coming to Mexico. Laswell didn't say anything and just said cheekily I'm sending you someone just like you, Colonel...

But seeing an angry woman, who was dwarfed in the middle of two huge men and represented more of a chihuahua, was definetly a good change.

And up until the plane landed, and even when the doors opened, you didn't stop complaining and yelling at Soap-who was busy not to cackle at every angry face gesture you did- while Ghost was walking ahead, fed up by you two's stupidity.

And it was amusing to watch you hit bulky man who was able to throw you over his shoulder.

"Sergeant Mactavish, Colonel Night!" A booming voice made you both stop playing with each other and look ahead to see the serious-looking man greeting you with a handshake, both of you nodding in gratitude at his respect to you not using your real name. It was no use, after all, with giving your name away so carelessly.

One of the rate things you and Ghost agreed on.

Alejandro shook Ghost's hand as well, the colossal Titan-like man nudging you to move with the tip of his gun harshly after Soap being a little bitch, as he called it.

While the said-man was busy with fucking up with Ghost.

"Actually, I believe he prefers to be-"  you bit down your lip hard at what Soap was about to say, a snort still leaving you when Ghost yelled at him to stop since he knew you both were about to ridicule him for letting you two tease him.

What was the bad that would come with telling every single person you met that the killer-machine of a colossal Ghost liked to be called babygirl, after one of your babygirlfying sessions?

The three men already started to speak to themselves about Hassan and Shepherd, and though you knew it was selfish... You just wished you came here for a vacation and not a mission, the sound of the General's name being enough to make you even more mad then before.

And remembering the last convo you had with your adoptive mother, Laswell, only fueled that anger.

"Mom, I'm telling you that there is something wrong with the way the General acts!"

"What could possibly be wrong with him, Y/N! He is the General-"

"That's the point! He only asks about where the missiles are, and I bet my 1000 dollars that it's because he wants to have a power in his hands and not to save humans!"

That man is bad news, and if I can get more info maybe before he kills me, I can-

You knew that Laswell was heavily loyal to him, and she never questioned him or his morals but though she never saw it, you saw how an evil smile would come to him at the mere mention of killing or sacrificing men, soldiers who had families, hopes, dreams...

And you knew, that he knew what you had been doing from his back by collecting evidence and that he was already planning to kill you.

"Hey, lass... You good?" Soap called to you when he realized that you no longer walked with them and you shook your head immediately, jogging up to them before getting in the car after Soap.

"Yeah, no worries. I'm sorry for dozing, just thinking of how I'll get my hands on someone after we're done and have a fun night out- Oh, hey!" You grunted noncholantly, while Alejandro raised a brow at you curiously and Ghost pushed you into the car forcefully but you still had a beaming smile to the man sitting in the driver seat, offering a hand while the said-man was watching you three curiously, accepting the kindness nonetheless.

"Hey, not a good first impression on our teammates, Ghost!"

"Do I look like I give a damn? Get in!"

"Okay, Jesus fine. Stop being an ass..." you grunted in pain while plopping down on the seat, being squished by the two bulky men who opened their legs a bit wider than usual to fit in and though you normally wouldn't give a damn...

Right now you couldn't breathe.

And it definetly wasn't because of the most gorgeous two men you ever saw-

"Look, guys, as much as I love you, move your legs away from my tiny self 'kay? I know I don't have balls between my legs but be a gentleman and shoo your legs away!"

Rodolfo widened his eyes at what you said, watching the two men grunt and apologize while doing so and looked over to his boyfriend to see if he was the only one being shocked when he caught Alejandro's sigh, him muttering she's like that before cleaning his throat to introduce him.

"This is my second in command Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra." Alejandro introduced his boyfriend with a proud smile, the man at the recieving end smiling bashfully at him before giving a nod over to your trio, which you also did the same and squeezed your eyes questioningly at him.

After hearing his name, you turned your questioning eyes to the man, suddenly feeling like you knew them. The shape of his nose, the way he smiled and touched his face when he first met you...

"Is something wrong, Colonel?" Rodolfo questioned hesitantly, the doubting face you did setting his nerves up to the roof while Alejandro looked back and stared at you back, protective eyes raking through your face until you gave a huge smile and shook your head, hands waving dismissively.

He couldn't be your best friend from years ago... that would be shit kinda insane, right?

"No, no... You just remind me of someone, I don't know who though. Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable." You leaned back on the seat with an unreadable gaze, lips thight and a kind of approving face yet smiled at him.

"That's not a problem, thank you." he nodded at you kindly, and turned back to the road ahead.

While both him and Alejandro thought why their hearts beated erratically at the sight of you smiling.

"They're not angry, Soap..."

"But they are yelling! They must be angry-" you sighed at his persistence as if he was the one who once lived here, and if the look on Alejandro's face said anything, it would be the same as yours.

"Look, It's a Mexican thing! Their blood runs hotter and wilder than the rest of the human population which makes their vocal cords stronger. Trust me, no one is actually angry here." You explained bored, your head on Soap's shoulder while you played with his hands idly, him turning his palm up for you to have better access. Alejandro slightly turned to look back at you, somehow with jealous and irritated eyes- thinking that it was because you two were being intimate while on mission, when you two weren't together at all, unknown to them-while Rodolfo's eyes found your face in the rear mirror with a confused look.

At both your knowledge, and the closeness you had with the Scottish man.

"For a newcomer, you know our people a lot-" Soap's eyes shone when you lifted your head with a teasing smile and side eyed him, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here and it was your time to shine...

Damn, I wish my phone was on my hand...

" ¿Le parezco un recién llegado, coronel?"¹ you smirked cheekily at their astonished face, almost laughing out loud when Rodolfo lost the control of the vehicle which resulted with Ghost yelling loudly while the poor man apologized before his eyes found yours. "You speak Spanish?!"

" Toda esta información no pudo cargarse en mi cerebro en el vientre de mi madre, ¿no?" ² Rodolfo chuckled, trully seeing what Laswell meant when she said that one of the members would be much like Alejandro, a genuine smile creeping on his lips while Alejandro let out a loud laugh and smile.

Smiles that died down quickly when they realized that their eyes lingered on you longer and longer.

He and Rodolfo, ever since he lost the third piece of themselves, never smiled that much. Life was never easy to them ever since, between protecting Las Almas and its people, taking care of each other and healing their wounds that would never trully heal, they never had the chance to be themselves and have fun.

Not when they lost the girl they both fell hard for, their third piece Y/N Y/L/N...

The only person they saw them fighting shoulder to shoulder with...

Even swore on their blood...

Only for it to be broken with you, someone they tought that would never abondon them, disappearing without a trace.

Both Alejandro and Rodolfo's hand touched their chest, where they had their rings was hidden beneath, to have some comfort and feel you even if you weren't here anymore. Alejandro and Rodolfo, when they bought the promise rings, also brought one for the person who took their hearts with herself and probably died, thinking that you would have loved the idea. And occasionally, they would exchange it between each other when the other needed to feel it.

To feel you.

This time it was around Rodolfo's neck and he momentarily squeezed it, battling the tears to go away. This, the want to cry and the feeling of something clawing inside his chest, never happened in the almost 20 years that he had been dealing with his loss...

And he didn't like the reminder of what should have been.

Meanwhile, you and Soap was busy with gossiping between each other while giggling at the chaos that happened a few minutes ago so intensely that you didn't realize the looks Ghost was giving you. "You wanna bet if they're engaged?"

"Nah, lass, I'm one hundred per cent sure that they're married."

"Can you two not shut up and talk about the mission once?" Ghost butted in on your gossip harshly when you both looked at him offended.

"No?" You both whisper yelled at Ghost and he grunted, turning to look out the window while you patted Soap's arm with a bright idea. "How about I ask?"

"Are ya crazy? We just met these people, where do ya get the courage-"

"Live, laugh, don't give a fuck, Soap! That easy, and I'm betting my 100 bucks." You all-knowingly said, already seeing the wide smile and beam on Soap's face.

"100? Damn I'm in!" You gave a childish smile and scooted closer to the two men sitting in front, at this point you could have just squeezed yourself in between the empty space in the middle because of the intense pull you had. Alejandro stressed you a bit though, even when you are the mostly unfazed one. So, you turned to Rodolfo while the man gave you a curious yet amused side look.

"Do you have a question?" You smiled at his soft voice, already feeling a little bit more eased, and looked at him with the softest eyes Soap and Ghost had ever seen on you.

"Yes, actually... I was wondering, when you said you both grew here... How long has it been?"

"Close to 35, I guess..." he gave a thoughtful hum, voice lost in nostalgia when his hand slithered up his vest again which caught your attention but soon was broken when he met your eyes from the rear mirror. "Why do you ask?"

"Ah, I just grew up somewhere close to here. I was curious whether we met or not since here is a small place. Especially after your face reminding me of... someone from my past."

You frowned sadly, a blank stare setting on your features. One that Rodolfo decided that didn't suit your bubbly self. "I'm sorry, for causing pain to you. But if I met you, we would have remembered... Right Alejandro?"

The man only gave a grunt, and watched you talk sweetly with his boyfriend with a heavy heart. He wasn't jealous, and that was what shocked him. Normally, as someone who had trust issues who was in a relationship, he expected to be jealous of you and how close you were getting with both him and Rudy. When many women and men tried their chances with either of them, or both of them, they both declined them harshly. They would never taint the memory of you, your touch on their faces and bodies...

Only Alejandro was the one to break that by getting with Valeria, a name they despised after years. A name that Alejandro would never forgive himself for giving himself over when he wanted it to be with Y/N and Rudy.

And it was because of his stupidity that he almost lost the last person he had.

And though he felt like he tainted your memory again, with how he was being with the woman in the car... He felt like curling up and crying like he did many times when he remembered.

But he also couldn't deny the way you fitted... so well with them.

You smiled to him, unaware of his inner turmoil, mindful of putting some distance between yourself and Rudy- taking the frown on Alejandro's face as jealousy, before dropping the bomb. "Then, I'm just gonna ask it away: Are you two engaged?"

Both of their faces fell in shock, both of them yelling over the other to prove that they weren't indeed together. They had been so careful until now, with never showing anyone their biggest weakness and especially the trio that just came-

Really, how did you know this before anyone?

"Where did you get the idea from, colonel?"

"Ah there we go with her deductions..." sighed Ghost irritatedly while Soap was busy crying internally at the amount he lost to you.

Even when Price clearly warned him to never challenge you.

You smiled giddily and cracked your knuckles and neck with excpectation before diving in to your Sherlock Holmes obsession, which was learning the ways of the Art of Deduction. "There is a whiter place on both of your left hands, meaning that you used to wear a ring and by the size of it, I'm assuming it to be either wedding rings or engagement rings. But you two are still looking at each other as if you want to eat the other so it's definetly not wedding and... The bedroom eyes here is intense, man."

"We-We don't do that, Colonel-" Rudy stuttered in embarrassment, the sight would have made you coo teasingly but since they were in a relationship- which was a disappointment on your end, kinda- you smiled and shook your head.

"Yes, you do. That's okay, really. I deal with the two men behind me doing it x10 worse..." your voice died down before Ghost would have hit your back when the car stopped near two corpses, bloody and covered with some insults and threats on the cover. Alejandro turned to look, since he didn't see what it was with his whole body turned to you to look at your face more closely and a sad look found his eyes at the young people laying in those covers. The sight disturbed you, and even if you couldn't admit it...

The frown of Alejandro hurted you more.

"You might want to sit back, Night. This sight-"

"I've seen worse, Colonel, trust me... But what's written on them? What are those?" Your voice hardened, the cold tone Soap and Ghost had seen you use when torturing someone came, and they watched just as sadly.

Not as obviously as you, since they mostly knew how to conceal their emotions.

And since they didn't have a personal grudge like you.

"Narcomantas..."

"Cartel clothes..." translated Rodolfo for the two behind you, his eyes trained on you and how you scrunched your nose at the scene before you sadly, the empathy you had for them even after being gone from here for such a long time, his heart softened at the sight and his hand twitched to touch your forehead to erase that frown when the thoughts shook him to his core and he cleared his throat, letting Alejandro continue with a hard, determined look while turning to look at the road.

"Messages from El Sin Nombre. Warnings marking territory. Our streets are laced with death... El Sin Nombre, The Nameless, is the leader of the Las Almas Cartel. No one can find him, but he is everywhere... But Los Vaqueros like challenges." He explained throughly what had been plaguing this town while you plopped down next to Ghost, completely loosing your mood at what had been going on in the place you grew up.

How much these people suffered.

"With your mask, you will fit in well here Ghost..." you knew Rodolfo meant it in a good way, no vicious comments, especially after that scene you left behind, but you also knew how this mask was a sensitive topic for Ghost. So, both you and Soap snapped your heads up and made gestures for him to stop since neither of you wanted Simon to explode and Alejandro, catching on its sensitive side, shushed Rodolfo who gave a sheepish smile to both of you.

And seeing the tension rise again, you gave a kind smile to him before nudging Soap who looked at you curiously. You smirked teasingly, head pointing to Alejandro and Rodolfo with a shit-eating grin. "Take notes on that, will ya?"

"Oh God, woman... You're the worst."

"Damn right, I am. You gotta ask how they did it before we leave and I want my 100."

He groaned and looked out the window when they took a turn to reach where Hassan was hiding while both Mexicans looked at you with smiles.

Both sides unaware of the chaos that would happen in the next hours...

Who would have known that mission would reveal secrets you had been keeping to yourself?

But at what cost?

And who would have known that Rudy and Alejandro would have what they once lost?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for going to a mexican market while not knowing any spanish?

So I (20ftm) live right near a Mexican and Salvadoran market and restaurant, which I go to frequently. The nearest chain grocery store is a mile away and since I hate driving I'd much rather walk across the street to the market for my stables like milk, juice and spices. Plus the food is fucking amazing (if you've never had a pupusa you are depriving yourself of one of life's many joys)

I go there all the time and have kind of established myself as a regular, enough to recognize everyone and be recognized by most everyone, and while I don't make a lot of small talk (I'm very socially awkward) I have build a bit of rapport with a woman around my age who goes to night school and a middle aged man who is always asking me about what I'm making and sometimes gives me candy for free.

I really like going there, the only problem is that I am very white and I feel terrible going there and being the only person ordering food and buying things in English. It hasn't caused any problems, everyone I've spoken to is fluent in English (and obviously having an accent doesn't mean someone doesn't understand English) but I do worry if I am inconveniencing everyone involved by not ordering in Spanish.

Just today the middle aged man I talk to asked me if I wanted to talk in English or Spanish and I fumbled (again, socially awkward. Deer in the headlights moment) and said that either was fine, it didn't matter. So he said everything in Spanish first then looked at me and when I didn't know what to say he repeated it in English. We had a friendly back and forth and he tried to teach me how to say "Have a good weekend" which I kind of fumbled back to him before bidding goodbye and high tailing it out of there.

I don't know if I'm an asshole for going knowing I don't know a lick of Spanish, or if I'm an asshole for not learning any Spanish up to this point (I've been going here over a year at this point) but I feel guilty about being an annoyance. I'm going to make some flashcards and learn some basic phrases and numbers so I'm not fumbling again like I did today but I don't know, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[buckybarnesss]

Lurker now follower here, hi hi, I love your blog and all your insights and thoughts on Teen Wolf and Sterek!! I just finished a rewatch and then immediately started over from the beginning because I am Unwell 😂😂😂

I’m on episode one and I gotta say it’s pretty hilarious how Stiles immediately recognizes Derek. Like, I can only imagine how obsessed he was with the fire and the Hale family, and now Derek is back!!

I don’t really have more coherent thoughts on this, just my brain going BRRRRR so yea lol 😂😂

hi! welcome!

i know we all joke about how stiles immediately knows it's derek hale that he and scott run into because it is funny. like stiles baby. honey. the signs were there.

i've always gotten the impression the fire is something stiles remembers very, very well.

the hale fire changed beacon hills. the hales had been there since the town's foundation. they were a well off, prominent family. there was reason to suspect arson. multiple children died and the only known survivors were two barely adult children and a severely burned, comatose man.

laura and derek were high schoolers. cora was eleven years old and presumed dead.

we're told the only thing left recognizable of talia hale were her claws.

it's the definition of a tragedy.

not to think of the supernatural repercussions to the vacuum left behind.

stiles would've been about 10 when the fire occurred which is young but old enough to understand the severity of such an event. especially as the child of the sheriff.

he probably saw how it weighed on his father and had a healthy dose of morbid curiosity. he may have even have knew cora hale in that passive way you know other kids in your school even if you don't know them personally. one day there and the next dead. for someone like stiles who gets hyper-focused on things and has a lot of anxiety stemming from the death of his mother i can easily imagine how his mind didn't let it go.

meeting derek in person created a hyperfixation so intense and so unhinged it led to him recognizing teen derek hale at 50 paces or less in a mexican desert several years later.

as he got to know derek he unlocked the layered tragic backstory stiles really became derek's secret keeper.

and it is only stiles that gets these pieces of the puzzle that is derek hale. he's the one who goes through the hale fire files, he's the one who pieced together that kate argent preyed on a young derek and he knows about paige.

i find it interesting choice to have only stiles know these things about derek. scott never learns of these things that could possibly make him more empathetic towards derek. the writers don't use it that way.

especially because stiles learning these things never goes anywhere overt. it's all in the subtext of the relationship between derek and stiles.

like, stiles learns about paige and he does nothing with this information but we do see him with tears in his eyes over it. he doesn't ever learn that paige's death gave power to the nemeton either. jennifer only tells derek that.

he knows all of this about derek and never tells anyone. he only ever alludes to knowing about kate one time and it's in the overlooked when he gets in derek's face. i'm unsure derek's even aware stiles knows about paige. stiles carries all these secrets about derek and he never uses it against him. instead he continues to keep coming back again and again and again for derek.

more importantly he understands derek and what is love but the mortifying ordeal of being known.

that all said stiles is absolutely unhinged about derek and derek does nothing to curb this by the way. if it bothered him he'd stop it but they are freak4freak so derek probably finds it charming even if he puts up a few token protests just to bait stiles.

[prolix-yuy]

I have never, ever asked anyone for an ask before so I don't know any of the rules for these things. For the pairing, can we ask for a pairing like Marcus Pike x Jack Daniels x Reader (cause Double Agents is a Mood™️ and a Vibe™️) or like either of those Singular x Reader.

And it's ME, so obviously I have to choose "CHAOS and order" as the topic. Chaos is my middle name after all.

Also please feel free to make this as explicit as possible. I mean, as you'd like.

If I did this wrong and I should change something let me know because like I said I've never done this before, so it is to YOU - Tumblr Crush Bestie - that I am losing my ask virginity. Seems fitting! 😉

Aynsley. Oh Aynsley. You come into my house and ask for filth? For chaos? To be as EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE?

I am happy to provide, my dear Tumblr Crush Bestie!

Sorry it's taken so gosh-darn long, these three were taking their sweet time figuring out the threesome twister game. I hope you enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

Summary: If you said you didn't want what these two men have in store, you'd be a liar.

Word Count: 6.3k (YOU'RE WELCOME)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, m/m dynamics, mmf dynamics, breast play, biting, oral sex (m and f receiving), handjobs, brief rimming, use of anal plug, anal sex (m receiving), face sitting, PiV sex, everyone's bisexual, aftercare, dirty talking because I'm a slut for it.

Notes: I've been teasing this for so long and it's finally arrived! And I'm embodying the 'chaos' in the request by barely editing this. Should I have? Maybe. Will I deny us any of the filth these three get into? Absolutely not. Enjoy my lovelies!

The first time you lied you didn’t even know what you were doing. Barely speaking full sentences and you pushed a boy over in the playground. He was loud, mean, and you were so full of emotions your little body had to retaliate. But when the teacher came over and asked what happened, you lied.

“He fell.”

The boy was too embarrassed to admit it was you, ushered away by the teacher. And you basked in a new feeling that would grow to be your constant companion: the elation of getting away with it.

Now, much later in life, you’d perfected lying. You lied like you breathed. Tells well hidden, truths spread like jam on burnt bread, just enough to hide the taste. You didn’t want to be punished, or caught. It wasn’t about waiting for someone to call you out. Lying was a language you spoke fluently and without equal, and was a competition with only yourself as audience.

Take tonight, for example. You’d lied to your friends that you didn’t feel well enough to go out. You’d lied to the bartender about why you were here. You’d even lied to the Uber driver, who could care less why you were coming to a swank hotel bar this late at night. But that’s three unsuspecting participants and three more tallies on the invisible scoreboard. 

The truth, not that you’d ever say it, was that you were bored. Endlessly, achingly bored. If you had to listen to one more pregnancy story, or upcoming wedding plans, or theorize on whatever show everyone was watching this time, you might actually scream. So tonight you forewent the Mexican restaurant your friends love and came here.

The bar is lush in a way that makes you salivate. Burgundy velvet chairs flank dark leather Chesterfield couches, artfully arranged to create the illusion of privacy underneath the cathedral ceilings. Royal blue and black brocade wallpaper flanks you as you approach the bar, black walnut wrapped around a towering wall of liquor. The stools glint gold as you slide onto one, balancing delicately. It’s not until you put in your drink order and settle back that you see them.

Once you do, you’re not sure how they escaped your observation. Two men seated at a high top overlooking city lights, casually sipping from rocks glasses. One is clean shaven, short haired and neatly dressed. Corporate attire - a tidy suit, tie, crisp white shirt. His face is soft in the table’s candlelight, eyes crinkled in the corners enough to know he enjoys himself without reservation. 

The other man holds some of the same features - large hands swirling alcohol in his tumbler, dark hair and eyes, a broad build - but the similarities end with the confidence he’s exuding. His outfit is more cowboy chic, dark jeans and a gray suit jacket over a light pink shirt with a peek of suspenders under the lapel. His boots hook over a stool rung, tilted back as his companion leans forward. The smirk painting his face paired with his teasing eyes quirks a smile of your own. Definitely cocksure, and possibly for good reason if those tight jeans were anything to go by.

Then the cowboy reaches across the table and pinches the other man’s chin between his thick fingers, a softer look gracing his face. The other man flushes a light pink, eyes casting down as his smile turns bashful.

Suddenly you’re too hot, snapping your gaze back to your drink.

Not for you.

Not that you’d assumed either of them would turn their attention your way. They were both your type in a room with surprisingly few options, but the night is young, and your drink has barely been touched. You lift it to your lips for a small sip, letting the liquor burn in the way good sex can light you aflame (an experience you’d been low on lately) when a voice murmurs at your shoulder.

“Drinking alone?” 

The blushing companion is now at your elbow, respectful but close enough that it makes your skin tingle. He leans on the bar, nodding once to the bartender with a smile before redirecting his attention back to your purposefully neutral expression.

“For now,” you reply cryptically, taking a sip of your drink as you peek at him over the rim. His smile widens, a glint of teeth between soft, kissable lips. Shouldn’t have been fantasizing about a conquest tonight, now you’re too keyed in to a man who’s out of your league in several ways. 

“Would you like some company while you wait? My partner and I have a table,” he says as two glasses slide into his grasp. You shrug.

“My friends will be here soon.”

Liar.

“Of course. One drink.”

“Only one.”

Liar.

“As the lady wishes.”

One drink turns into two, your wits still about you but your attention pleasingly bewitched by the couple. Marcus, the one who approached, is an FBI agent specializing in art crimes, which you unabashedly question him about while the cowboy smirks in your periphery. 

“You can tell the difference between a fake and an original on sight?” 

Marcus chuckles into the rim of his glass, tongue peeking out to stop an errant drop. 

“Only the very bad ones. The good ones need analysis, imaging, carbon dating. But it’s amazing to see how far someone will go.”

His knee knocks into yours and remains there.

The cowboy’s name is Jack Daniels, which makes you scoff until he raises an eyebrow at you. He even works at a distillery, though he was a field agent in a past life. That’s how he and Marcus met, the mention exchanging fondness that makes you gaze into your own drink for distraction. He orders a round of Statesman as proof of his fine taste, and you have to agree it’s much better than the whiskey most men offer you as though you know nothing of liquor. 

He lifts his boot to catch on the low rung of your stool, opening the span of his thighs to you. If you didn’t know better you would think these two were…

“We have a question for you, darlin,” Jack says when the drinks run dry, pinning you with a smirk. You straighten your spine, chin lifted to pre-empt your refusal.

You didn’t want to see what these men might offer.

Liar.

“Marcus saw you come in and thought you were about the prettiest thing he’d laid eyes on. But I’m a little more discerning. I like women to be smarter than me.” You roll your eyes but he keeps on running that smooth Southern drawl. “Which you are. Clearly. So I’m gonna ask you this for the both of us, and it only goes for the both of us. Package deal.”

Your eyes dart between Jack and Marcus, observing their drastically different postures. Marcus is nervous, hands folded tightly in front of him, eyes locked on them as he worries at his lower lip. Jack, on the other hand, is a man negotiating a deal and has all the confidence in the world, though he’s tuned in to Marcus’ discomfort. You wonder briefly if this is how they work best, Jack taking the lead. The thought blares heat across your chest.

“What would you like to ask?” you reply cooly, even though your heart hammers so loud you’re sure they can hear it. It’s under control until Jack’s eyes flick down to your hand worrying at your glass. His gaze flits up - caught.

“We’d like to invite you up to our room,” Jack says simply, leaning back in his seat. Marcus finally tears his eyes from his hands and watches for your reaction. You smirk at them both.

“For a nightcap?” you ask innocently, but the dark humor that spreads over Jack’s face shakes your resolve.

“No, darlin, we’d like to invite you into our bed. If that’s favorable to you, of course,” Jack says, the game ping-ponging between you as Marcus watches. 

“I assumed I wasn’t your type,” you stall, interrogating yourself about the offer. Did you want to let them lead you away from here? 

You’re definitely not bored anymore. If anything you’re aching at the thought.

“You are,” Marcus interjects, pulling your attention from Jack’s intense stare. His face is open, eager, kind. He seems like the kind of man who wears soft sweaters and asks you how your day was and actually listens. What a pair they make. 

“I’d like to have an idea of what I’m getting myself into before agreeing to anything,” you say, but your voice is getting shakier by the minute. Marcus slides his hand across the table, fingertips lightly grazing the back of your hand. It’s grounding, comforting.

Electric.

“Safety for everyone, of course. Protection all around,” Jack says, speaking in a low voice that urges you to lean forward. It gives him the opportunity to graze his fingers along your thigh in a featherlight touch that burns you with arousal. “Marcus likes it when I take charge, but you’re our guest so whatever your comfort level is, we’ll respect. If you’d like to take a break or end it at any time, we stop.”

Then Jack leans in and destroys the final barriers between you and your decision.

“We both like to eat pussy, and will make you cum several times before fucking you. Marcus likes to be inside while I fuck him, but I’d like to feel you squeeze around me too. I won’t leave marks if you ask, but I like to use my mouth, and my teeth. Marcus wants to kiss you, often, and very thoroughly. He might be quiet now, but he’s vocal as hell when you get him riled up. I’m likely to never shut up unless my mouth’s busy.” 

Your breath is coming in quick pants now, Marcus’ fingers sliding along the back of your hand to open your fist and slip inside. Jack’s heavy hand on your thigh feels like all that’s keeping you held to the earth. Sensing your hesitation, Marcus leans in and breathes into your ear.

“Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You don’t hear your agreement over the rushing in your ears, but their twin smiles of satisfaction confirm it.

Staring into the mirror and psyching yourself up to leave the bathroom, you adjust your lingerie for the eighth time. Mauve lace clings to your breasts, your hips, just opaque enough to be pretty instead of lewd. In this moment you wish it was more exciting, more daring for these men who offered you a spot in their bed. How tame you must seem after all the bravado you showed in the bar.

You’re not ready for this.

Liar.

Gathering up your last bit of courage, you saunter into the hotel bedroom. You’d left Jack and Marcus there fully clothed, knowing smiles and the beginnings of flirty touches the last thing you’d seen. Now, you’re treated to a much more mouthwatering sight.

Jack is seated on the edge of the bed, jacket discarded and suspenders loose by his thighs. His shirt is messy and untucked, one final button around his stomach holding on for dear life after all the others abandoned their posts. His pants are open, and as you come to a stop you’re treated to Marcus’ deep groan as he swallows Jack’s cock to the base. His throat works as Jack tips his head back and sighs, hips gyrating a fraction against Marcus’ eager mouth. 

Fuck, it’s hot and drives a spike of arousal straight to your cunt. Marcus’ strong back, bare and rippling across Jack’s lap, begs for your fingers to dig into his meaty shoulders. You catch him palming at his crotch, big brown eyes opening to look up at Jack. He’s rewarded with thick fingers carding through his short brown hair, pulling back to breathe heavily on the tip of Jack’s cock before descending again.

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Jack rasps when you realize you’ve been staring too long. His hand extends to you, and for a moment you think it’s better to leave them to it. They clearly have history, and chemistry. You don’t belong here.

Liar.

You slide your hand into Jack’s, letting him lead you to sit beside him. Sinking into his side, he gives you the perfect view to look down at Marcus’ thorough deep-throating. His eyes drag up, and the hand gripping Jack’s thigh now comes to rest on yours. He’s firm but gentle, kneading the flesh there.

“I’d like to kiss you, sweetheart,” Jack whispers into the shell of your ear, dragging his lips just to your neck to press a featherlight kiss. You’re hesitant, but he lets you breathe against his mouth before leaning forward just enough to press your lips together. The wet mouth noises Marcus is choking out below you are a strange soundtrack to the sweetness of Jack’s kiss. He plies you with a few more, fuller, more forceful, before dragging his tongue over the seam of your lips. You part eagerly for him, meeting his full stroke with your quicker tongue. Jack groans into your mouth, the beginning of a smile curling against the corner of your lips. 

“Now him,” he says, leaning back and guiding your head down to Marcus. He slips off Jack’s wet cock, jutting thick and proud, and rises on his knees to take your head in his hands. There’s less hesitation here; you melt fully into Marcus’ kiss. Jack was right, Marcus kisses thoroughly, patiently, diving deep before pulling back to let you breathe. It builds a fire under your skin, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

Distantly you feel Jack’s thick fingers unclasp your bra, then his hands - callused in places that made you wonder if he was a real cowboy once - guide you to lay back on the bed. You part from Marcus with a small sigh, but Jack follows you down, the scrape of his mustache on your throat as he slips his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips. Settling on your back, Marcus’ hands slide under your knees and soon the smooth expanse of his back surges under your calves. 

“Look at this,” Marcus hums, stroking down your thighs. Jack hums in agreement as he slips your bra off, the cool air tightening your nipples. “Anything you don’t like, sweetheart?” Jack’s mouth distracts you as he blows across the swell of your breast, making your back arch at the sensation.

“No teeth,” you say, finally hazarding a look down your body at the men driving you to madness. Jack looks visibly disappointed, which makes you tug at his well-coiffed locks. “For him, not you.” Marcus breaks into a smile and honest-to-goodness chuckles between your legs, and Jack winks up at you before a slip of pink tongue wraps around your nipple. Any further instruction is wiped from your mind as you arch into the clever heat of his mouth, paired with the squeeze of his other hand around your neglected breast. His teeth graze your nipple, hips rolling involuntarily before getting pressed firmly into the bed.

“Can’t wait to taste this,” Marcus murmurs, and two fingers slide underneath the gusset of your panties, knuckles dragging through your folds. He leaves open-mouthed kisses below your bellybutton, dragging his nose down to smell you through the thin lace. You want so desperately to focus but so many hands pulling you apart so effortlessly has your eyes rolling up into your head and your body writhing. 

Finally, Marcus licks a wide path along your lacy slit as Jack rolls your nipple between his fingers and you keen out a desperate moan.

“Oh, baby, sounds like someone needs you to make her cum,” Jack teases into your neck, sliding his hand down and into your panties to tease your aching clit. Marcus is still licking along the lace, pressing his tongue at your entrance just enough that their touches light up every nerve carrying pleasure to your lust-soaked brain.

“Let me take these off you and get you all over my face,” Marcus purrs, lifting your hips to drag the last scrap of clothing off your body. They’re both still half-clothed and looking at you like a goddess draped across the bed, and it almost makes you balk.

Liar. It makes you even more excited.

Jack removes his fingers, sucking them into his mouth with a low hum while Marcus noses your inner thigh. You can’t stop your legs from trembling, but Marcus’ firm grip steadies you as he finally licks a slow path through your folds.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, arching into the pillows as Jack presses your hips back on the bed. 

“He’s good, ain’t he? Wicked tongue on him, and I swear he’s half fish, never needs to come up for air,” Jack teases, pressing his body against your side and stroking through Marcus’ short hair. He nips at your earlobe as Marcus begins lapping rhythmically at your entrance, his nose firm on your clit and his jaw bobbing against you. The waves of his tongue, the jolt of that hawkish nose, the dark pride simmering in his eyes as he watches you, all burn under your skin. Your orgasm is fast approaching, nipples tight and aching. Sliding your thumb over one, you coax the honey-sweet ache of arousal out against Marcus’ tongue. Jack notices and joins you, stroking his rougher ones over the sensitive buds. His cock ruts lazily against your hip, and you slide your hand around him to pump him in time with your rolling hips.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so good,” he praises, sinking his teeth into the top of your breast just hard enough that prickles of pain pull you away from your heady arousal. It slams back into you the moment he releases the sensitive flesh, laving his tongue over the indents his teeth left behind.

“C’mon baby, that’s it, you’re so close,” Marcus encourages between your legs, lips barely leaving before doubling down. His whole head rocks against your cunt, long licks and drags of his lips and nose and chin through your messy sex. He must be coated in you, thick and tangy across his clean-shaven face. If Jack did the same, he’d carry you in that perfectly groomed mustache.

That image, Jack with his mustache dripping with your release, tightens your core as Marcus urges your hips to roll against him, chasing your orgasm frantically as he growls into your cunt. 

“Give it to me, baby, cum on my face, I know you have it right there for me, fucking give it to me. Cum on me. Cum on me now,” he orders, and with Jack’s whispered “He’s been so good, cum for him sweetheart,” you’re tightening around Marcus’ head and shaking through a fucking full-body orgasm. Faintly you hear Marcus chanting, “Yes, yes, that’s it baby, that’s it,” and Jack purring a diatribe of, “Good girl, you’re cumming so good for us, look at that, fucking gorgeous.” The room fades around the edges, the boys all you can focus on. Marcus’ eyes are shining with triumph, wiping his face as he beams up between your legs. Jack hovers over you, pride and sinful promise in his smile.

“That was a very good one, Marcus. Gonna give me a run for my money,” he says, stroking your cheek as you try to come back to the real world from your sky-high journey. The comforting warmth at your side fades as Jack sits up on the bed, tugging Marcus by his hair. Blearily you watch them kiss, tongues peeking out from their pressed lips as Jack tastes you on Marcus. He reaches down and deftly unbuttons Marcus’ pants, shoving everything down to reveal his weeping cock. Jack’s palms it, nodding to Marcus who leans over just enough to spit on his own cock before Jack gives him a few slow, firm strokes. You can tell how much Marcus is affected, mouth dropping into an O as his eyes drifting shut. Jack indulges him a few passes more before pulling a condom out of his pocket.

“Fill her up, pretty boy, she’s been so patient.”

You prop yourself up on shaky elbows as Marcus rolls the condom on, hazy gaze kindling the remains of your orgasm into a new possibility. He slots his hips between your thighs, crawling up your body to kiss you with the remains of your taste on his tongue. Jack stole most of it, but you can still relish in your tang.

“I want to fuck you, baby, can I? I’ll stretch you out good first,” he asks against your lips, the head of his cock resting just on your mound. He fists it and draws circles on your clit with the tip, your spine pulling tight up under him.

“Yes, Marcus, want you inside me,” you gasp, but before he fits his perfect cock inside he pumps two gloriously thick fingers into your cunt, stroking at your velvet soaked walls before curling them wickedly.

“So tight. Fuck, Jack, you’re gonna love this,” Marcus husks, scissoring his fingers and swirling his thumb over your sensitive clit. 

“Want to show her what you’ve been hiding, handsome?” Jack asks innocently, but you see goosebumps raise along Marcus’ arms and shoulders when the cowboy nips at his ear, winking at you. “Reach back here, darlin’, and feel,” Jack instructs as you follow the path of his hand around Marcus’ hip. He guides you to the smooth base of the plug in Marcus’ ass, making him shudder when you press your fingers against it.

“He’s been waiting all night for this, would you let me fuck him while he fucks you?” Jack asks. You trace a finger around Marcus’ stretched hole and he drops his head to your shoulder with a choked groan.

“You want that, Marcus? Want to fill me while Jack fills you?” His stuttering breath warms your neck as he nods. Reaching back, you prop yourself up with a couple pillows so you can better watch, your hands cupping Marcus’ face as Jack slowly works the plug out of him. When his mouth drops open you stroke your thumb along his bottom lip, pulling his attention from any discomfort back to you. Marcus empties out a sigh when Jack pulls the sensible black plug from him and places it on the bedside table. He returns with a slim bottle of lube that he dribbles onto his fingers.

“Now Marcus, I want you to put the tip in her and get yourself good and hard while I slide into your pert little ass. Once I’m in and you’re settled I’ll set the pace. Don’t want you hurting yourself.” The gentle instruction warms your skin as Jack smooths his hands over Marcus’ back and sides. He nods and you stroke your fingers through his hair reassuringly.

“You’re gonna feel so good inside me,” you say, circling your hips against his cock as he fists himself again. 

“You’re beautiful,” Marcus whispers, and as he wedges just the tip of his thick cock inside you he presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder. The shallow stretch makes your toes curl, one of Jack’s hands massaging your calf as his mouth smacks against Marcus’ spine.

“Ready?” he asks one last time.

“Yes, Jack, please…”

The litany of moans and gasps Marcus litters onto your skin lights your arousal further aflame as Jack curses and pushes in. You’re enraptured by the concentration on his face, the tick of his jaw and swipes of his tongue over his lower lip as he thrusts shallowly into Marcus’ tight channel. You can feel every jolt in your cunt when he presses Marcus just a little further forward, burying himself just a little deeper inside you. It’s slow as cold molasses and driving Marcus to bliss. When he begins backing up against Jack you stroke his back, and Jack’s larger hand covers yours.

“Fuck, feel so full,” Marcus manages to say, and Jack leans over to kiss along his shoulders. Your mouth is already at the juncture of his neck, and Jack meets your lips with his own. Marcus turns his head enough to kiss you behind your ear, and to catch the hinge of Jack’s sharp jaw with a scrape of teeth.

“Okay sweethearts, I’m gonna fuck you now. Slow to start. Get our rhythm.” Jack then pulls back and thrusts forward hard enough to bury the rest of Marcus’ length inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, Marcus already being guided back out before Jack fucks him back into you. “Oh holy shit, ohhhh fuck, yes, please, oh fuck it’s so good,” you moan brokenly, Marcus cupping your cheek and pressing his mouth to yours. You open for him, his tongue plunging into you as he pounds your cunt over and over again. The wet slaps are offset by the slick squelches of Jack’s cock fucking into Marcus, timing his thrusts just right to let you both feel every ridge and vein inside and around you. 

“Fuck, you both are so fucking hot,” Jack grits out, one hand gripping your hip, the other Marcus’, as he set a faster pace. Marcus drops to his elbows and rolls his hips harder, snapping into you and back onto Jack. The quiet moans he was hiding before erupt into full-throated shouts, which Jack muffles by shoving his fingers into Marcus’ mouth. He drools around them, and when his glazed eyes meet yours you lick the back of Jack’s knuckles and over Marcus’ lips.

“Filthy girl, knew you were,” Jack pants. “You close, handsome?” 

Marcus nods frantically, eyebrows pinching and fisting the sheets as he speeds up from Jack’s rhythm to chase his orgasm. Jack chuckles before folding over you both, crushing Marcus to your chest.

“I’ve got you, baby boy.” With that Jack pounds into you both, Marcus buried so deep you can feel Jack’s thrusts nudge him against your g-spot. You grip their hair, Jack’s eyes locking with yours as he growls through each thrust. 

“Call him a good boy, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Marcus, you’re so good for me, feel so good inside. Cum for me like a good boy, Marcus.”

That’s all it takes, and Marcus is howling into your neck as Jack grinds deep. His cock pulses heavily inside you, the force of his orgasm shivering through his limbs as they lock and release. Finally he lets go, slumping his full weight onto your chest. Jack kisses the back of his neck, fingers stroking down his arms and soothing him through the aftershocks.

“You’ve got a way with him, darlin’, he rarely cums that hard,” Jack coos, sliding his arms around Marcus to guide him off. Rolling him to his back, Jack peppers Marcus’ face with soft kisses as he weakly throws an arm around Jack’s back. His other hand searches for yours, twining your fingers together as he blinks sleepily between you both.

“Shit, that was amazing,” he croaks, sending Jack to the bathroom for a glass of water and to dispose of the condoms. “C’mere, wanna hold you,” he adds, tugging you to curl up against his side. His hands roam your back, nose pressed against your forehead as his rapid heartbeat begins to slow. It’s oddly romantic, happy to give and receive this moment of comfort. But you’re sure it’s the end of the night, and you’ll be fine going back home soon.

Liar.

“Now darlin’, as good of a time as it looks like you were having, I don’t think you came,” Jack says once Marcus has had a good long drink and settled back into the pillows. 

“I had plenty of fun,” you say lazily, stroking Marcus’ chest as it rises and falls. Jack tuts and shakes his head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Told you I wanted to eat your pussy too. Come sit on my face and let me give you another. Then, if you’re not too tired out, I’ll have you sit on my cock too.” 

Heat races over your body, and Marcus unwinds you from his arms. 

“Go on, gorgeous, Jack’s tongue is a treat you should never turn down,” he teases. “I’ll be along as soon as I catch my breath.”

Sitting up, you scoot closer to Jack as a strange nervousness settles in. Marcus is so open and easy to read, while Jack’s expressions always seem veiled behind a layer of showmanship and bravado. You find yourself worrying that you won’t be enough for him, for what he wants.

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Jack interrupts your racing thoughts as he strokes his palm up your thigh. You shake your head, forcing a smile on.

“Nothing,” you say, your voice catching in your throat. Jack chews on his lower lip for a moment, then wraps his arms around your waist and guides you onto his lap. Straddling him, you hover as he pets your hips, smooths your back, and noses your neck with a gentle kiss along your collarbone.

“If it’s nerves, honey, then know that I have been looking forward to tasting, and fucking you all night. I want your tits in my mouth, your pussy, your tongue. I want to devour you, you’re so delicious.” He guides your hips down to press against his cock, hard and hot as he slips the soft skin against your wet folds. “You cannot possibly disappoint me, I could cum from your voice alone.” 

“Jack…” you breathe, and he leans back, pulling you along with him. Once flat on his back he guides your nipple into his mouth, humming indulgently as he teases the bud with his fast tongue and harsh sucks. You arch into his mouth, the length of his cock grinding against your clit. Switching to the other one, he nips lightly and chuckles when you jolt against him. His large hands paw at your ass, spreading your cheeks and kneading at the supple flesh. He cracks his hand against one with a sharp slap, soothing it with a stroke after. You’re dripping on him now, grinding along his length.

“Perfect, sweetheart, now climb up and put that hot little pussy on my face,” he orders, and all self-consciousness drips away as you climb up his body. Before you settle around his shoulders he taps your hip and guides you to swing around so you’re facing his neglected cock, hovering over his greedy mouth.

“Want your hand around my cock while I eat you out,” he says before pulling you down on his face. 

No matter the thorough fucking you just endured, Jack’s thick tongue sends a shudder up your spine, needing to grab his wrists. He hums into your folds, faster flicks than Marcus against your clit.

“I’m gonna drink you down, darlin’,” he purrs into your cunt, canting your hips so he can better seal his pouty lips around your clit. Falling forward, you loosely stroke Jack’s aching cock, throbbing with need after being denied his orgasm. Letting a dribble of spit drip onto his length, you slick him up to take a tighter grip. When your fingers glance over the ridge of his head his stomach tightens, hips rocking up to meet your strokes. 

“Your cock is gorgeous, Jack,” you praise, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip. The groan he lets out vibrates against your sex, eliciting your own pleasured sigh as he slips his tongue inside you.

“He’s very good at using it,” Marcus says just next to your shoulder, sliding off the bed to kneel between Jack’s knees. He replaces your hand on Jack’s cock, urging you to sit back up on Jack’s face. He worships your breasts with soft sucks and nibbles, working you both up higher and higher. You can feel Jack’s movements getting sloppier, distracted gasps bursting between your legs when he takes a moment to bask in his own pleasure. You weave your hands into Marcus’ hair, scratching along his scalp as he kisses his way up your neck and back to your waiting mouth. 

“Mmm, sweetheart he’s not gonna last much longer, and I know he wants to cum in you too. Let me wrap him up and then you can fuck his cock.” Marcus takes a moment to tear open a condom as you shuffle down Jack’s body. His mouth leaves you with a parting lick to your back entrance, the ticklish sensation making you giggle and scratch your nails down his flexing stomach. When you’re hovering over his cock, Marcus’ hand on the base guiding Jack in, he sits up behind you. 

“Most beautiful thing I’ll ever get to experience,” Jack murmurs, plastering his chest to your back and wrapping his arms around you. He guides you down as Marcus steadies him in, filling you so differently but so completely. 

“Fuck, Jack, you feel amazing,” you croon, head thrown back against his shoulder. Marcus lifts up on his knees to kiss Jack, clever fingers petting at your clit as you lift up just enough to let Jack feel the drag of your tight cunt, then back down to his base to elicit a wanton groan.

“Darlin’, you feel like heaven. Don’t know how Marcus didn’t bust immediately.” Marcus nips his Adam’s apple and switches to mouthing at your throat, both of their lips dancing along the expanse of your sweat-slicked skin. Sandwiched between them, the slide of their bodies against yours is addictive, intoxicating, endless in the pleasure it brings. Your cunt clenches around Jack, and he chuckles darkly in your ear before snapping his hips up into you.

“There’s my good girl, so tight around me. I’m gonna fuck you as hard and long as I can, but fuck me if you don’t feel like the best thing I’ve ever put my cock in.” Jack grabs the back of Marcus’ head and pulls him back to meet eyes. “Lick her clit, pretty boy.”

You didn’t think your arousal could climb any higher, but looking down to see Jack’s length sliding in and out of you paired with Marcus sinking down to lick a stripe from the base of Jack’s cock to your clit almost kills you. Marcus’ boyish smile would be your gravestone if you didn’t remember to breathe.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out as he lays out his thick pink tongue to stroke over and over along your joined bodies.

“Damn right, you’re doing so good for us Marcus,” Jack grits out, pulling you down on his fat cock so you don’t bounce away from Marcus’ talented tongue.

“Could do better,” Marcus says thoughtfully, reaching for the bottle of lube. Slicking up his fingers, he slides his hand down to tease Jack’s rim.

“Fuck, baby, you know how I like that,” Jack groans, bringing a wicked smile to Marcus’ face. Kissing your mound, Jack tenses hard under you with a broken gasp. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, yes baby, that’s fucking perfect, you keep your fingers right there while I cum in her. Just like that, sweet boy.”

Leaning down you grab Marcus by the jaw and devour him, teeth clacking briefly as you fill his mouth with your tongue. He whimpers below you before you part, lips spit-slicked and slacked.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart, Marcus you better…” Jack threatens but Marcus is already latching his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard and fast while his fingers flex inside Jack. The relentless grind against your g-spot, the ruthless pressure on your clit, the overwhelming ache that can’t build anymore before it needs to go somewhere washes over you, and you cum with a wail on these two gorgeous men. Jack follows as your walls flutter around him, with a litany of, “That’s it baby, your pussy’s so fucking good, I’m…oh shit, I’m cumming, M-Marcus baby don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop, oh shiiiiii…” You faintly wonder if Marcus came again before a spurt of hot cum against your calf answers your question.

The silence that follows, filled with gasps and panting and weak hands on skin, is the moment you dread. It’s the last moment before the peace and quiet in your mind fades, urging you to gather up your clothes and go before you say something or do something that will ruin this. But with Marcus wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder, and Jack pressed against your back, you have no place to go. 

“Thank you, darlin’, that was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, wouldn’t you agree?” Jack says, pressing a line of kisses from behind your ear to the curve of your shoulder. Marcus leans back and thumbs your chin, tired eyes and a loose smile.

“Definitely. Can we take care of you now, sweetheart?” 

Your eyebrows must have pulled up into a frown, because Marcus chuckles just a little and cradles your head.

“What, you thought we’d fuck you and make you leave?” he teases, and you have to school your face carefully. You didn’t expect them to be this caring, or kind.

Liar.

Then you didn’t expect them to want more than your body once they were through.

Liar.

Then what did you expect?

Marcus thankfully speaks, similar to that that soothing way Jack enticed you here.

“Well then, I’m going to take you into the shower to clean you up, and Jack’s gonna make the bed and join us after. Once we’re clean and hydrated, I’m going to put on The Thin Man and we’re going to get into bed together. If you’re not comfortable spending the night, I understand. But I - we - want you to. Not just because tomorrow morning I want to wake you up with both of our heads between your legs.” Jack slides out of you and holds you in his arms, nuzzling into the back of your neck. 

“I don’t…” you try to say, both men waiting patiently. “I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to do now.”

Liar.

You know exactly what to do. 

Stay.

Marcus’ lopsided smile and Jack’s pressed into your skin are promises you never asked for, but would gladly accept.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

END

[afictionaladventure16]

cat dad pedro and the cat he “didnt want”

El Gatito (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Word Count: 2,094

A/N: I'm not Chilean I am Mexican... soooo I tried my best to do what I thought he would say... But I hope this is what you were hoping for!

Your heart pounded in your chest as your anxiety rose the closer you got home. You giggled as the small kitten you rescued moved inside your sweatshirt, with every move it tickled more and more. Finding the kitten was not on your agenda for today, nor was it on the agenda for any day and you knew it definitely was something that your dad wasn’t going to take lightly. 

He loves animals, but with how hectic his schedule is, he felt like owning one wasn’t the right choice. Especially how bad he felt having you jump from place to place when he was off filming, but you had begged your dad many times to let you get some sort of pet. The first was a goldfish, that lasted a good few months until your cousins accidentally dropped it on the floor and well, anyone could imagine how well that went. 

The second was a hamster and well, your dad tried to play it off that the hamster ran off, but it did not take you long to figure out what really happened. After that, your father started to get bigger roles and it meant being away for longer periods of time. Which led to his decision on no more pets. 

But now, you were thought you were responsible and old enough to get a pet and it was as if the universe was agreeing with you. On your way home from school you heard a small meow coming from a trash bin from one of the neighborhoods near your apartment complex. You couldn’t believe it when you found the little kitten in a tapped box, with only a few holes in the box for air, how cruel humanity could be. You didn’t hesitate to pry open the box, inspecting the small kitten before tucking it under your sweatshirt to shelter it from the harsh winter air. 

You don’t know how your father is going to react, but you knew the kitten was better off now here with you than it was just a few minutes ago. “It’s just temporary,” you said to yourself, “we’ll foster it until we find a new home for him.” You were confident in your plan, pretend to foster and just slowly fade until a foster fail. 

You sighed to yourself as you walked into your apartment building, making your way to the elevator. You looked into your sweatshirt as you waited for the elevator, “I really need you to be on your best behavior, kitty,” you whispered, hoping that the kitty remained silent long enough for you to make it into your room. The elevator door dinged as the doors opened, you stepped in, pressing the correct button for the floor. 

Once you were in front of your door, you took in a deep breath before opening the door. “Papi?” you called out as you stepped inside the apartment. You felt the kitten move slightly at the sound of your voice, you walked down the hall, “papi?” 

“In here, cariño!” He called from his office. You walked over to the office, standing at the doorway. “I only got a few minutes before I have a meeting, so How was school?” Your dad asked as he looked at you with a big smile. 

“It was great!” You smiled, “I won’t keep you, I have a lot of homework to do,” You said as a small meow came from your sweatshirt. 

“What was that?” 

“N-Nothing,” You smiled, “I should ge-” another meow, followed by the kitten beginning to rustle within your sweatshirt. 

“Cariño, what’s that moving inside your sweatshirt?”

“What’s what moving inside my sweatshirt.” 

Your dad sighed, taking off his glass before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Take whatever is inside your sweatshirt out right now.” You stared at your dad for a second, hoping that maybe his meeting would start and he could forget everything that is happening right now. “Saca lo! Horita mismo, Y/n!” (take it out, right now) 

You rolled your eyes, taking out the small kitten from underneath your sweatshirt, “Ay, Y/n. Ya sabes lo que siento por tener animales.” (you already know how I feel about keeping animsl)

“I know, papi, but I found in a trash can,” you looked up at your dad with your best puppy dog eyes. “He was inside a box that was all taped up, it was so cruel.” Your dad sighed, you were right it was cruel and well, he felt like arguing with you on this would probably turn into a big argument. Maybe it was time for him to give it a try. Plus he couldn’t say no to those eyes of yours. 

“Okay, fine, pero no quiero mirar caca en el piso, okay?” (but I don’t want to see poop on the floor) 

“Well, it’s a cat, he’ll poop in a litter box.” 

“I guess that’s better than nothing, I don’t want scratching up my furniture either,” he sighed, as he glanced at his watch, “My meetings gonna start in a little bit. We’ll talk about getting him to a vet later, for now I want you to do your homework.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Because your a cat mom now, mija. We have to go buy things for your kid, right?” You couldn’t help but smile, “now go do your homework.” 

~~ Time Skip ~~

It had been a few months since you’ve gotten the kitten. Your dad had taken a while to get used to the idea, but today was going to be officially the first time your dad had to take care of the cat without you there. You had planned on going to a friends house for the weekend, meaning your father had to do everything for the kitten. 

“He eats at 6 am every morning,” 

“6 Am?!” 

You gave your dad a small glare, “I feed him before I go to school, so yes, six A.M.” He sighed before motioning for you to continue. “And then he eats again at Three Thirty P.M. otherwise he has small snacks in between and before bed. You have to clean his litter box every day or he will not go and it’ll start to stink.” 

“This cat is more high maintenance than I am,” your dad commented. “Anything else?” 

“Make sure he has water at all times and he likes to cuddle at night. He might get three A.M. zoomies, but if that happens just leave him in my room to let it all out.” 

“Zoomies?” Your dad gave you a puzzled look. 

You smiled, “you’ll see tonight.” 

“What do you mean, I’ll see tonight?” 

“Nothing! See you tomorrow!” You grabbed your things and walked out of the apartment, leaving your dad with your cat. 

Pedro looked over at the cat, who had been staring at him from the couch, “No me mires asi,” (Don’t look at me like that) he then rolled his eyes, “I’m talking to a cat.” 

The rest of the night was peaceful enough for Pedro and for a moment he thought you had overexaggerated how crazy your cat can be. He glanced over at the cat who had spent most of the night laying down on his designated pillow on the couch, that’s all he’s been doing all night. It felt easy enough for Pedro. 

“Maybe I was wrong about you,” Pedro began to say, “Should’ve gotten a kitten sooner if this all you did.” But Pedro would soon regret saying that. He went to bed not long after midnight, leaving the door open to his bedroom and your room to give your cat options to sleep in. He wasn’t sure if your cat would want to sleep in a room he has yet to step foot in, but Pedro had given him the option. “Goodnight, Gatito,” (kitty) Pedro said as he layed in his bed. Gatito wasn’t your cats name, but your dad couldn’t help but always call him that. 

Pedro wasn’t sure what time it was when he heard the loud crash, but his first thought was that it was finally happening. His place was finally getting broken into. 

He ran out towards the living room, “What the!?” He exclaimed as he saw his T.V. was on the ground along with a few couch pillows. “Que cagada paso!?” Pedro heard a meow coming from behind him, he turned to find your cat walking in from the kitchen, “Gatito, what did you do?” And in an instant it was as if your cat was on drugs, he began climbing the couch and then ran along the cushions. 

Pedro groaned to himself, you had warned him about this. He ran behind the cat, catching him after a few minutes. Placing the cat inside your room, he closes the door behind him, “No wonder her stuff is always broken,” He said to himself as he placed the cat on the floor. The cat continued with his chaos, as if nothing had ever happened. Pedro laid himself on your bed, hoping the chaos would soon be over. He watched as your cat ran from one side of the room to the other and couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness. Of course, he could’ve been angry about the broken television and the other small things that are completely replaceable, but he wasn’t. Because that’s what they were, replaceable. 

It was all replaceable, to him, everything except for you and the joy this cat had brought you over the past few months. For a long time Pedro was worried about how hard it would be for you, travelling to and from different places, staying at his sister’s house for long periods of time, and not having your mother. He noticed the sadness in your eyes, even if you tried to hide it from him and he always tried his best to be everything you needed. All he hoped was that you knew that and maybe he was quick to say okay to the cat because he saw something in your eyes he had missed. He saw something light up and he saw the little girl he missed and deeply cared for. 

Pedro’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard a loud purr come from his side, he glanced over and spotted your cat cuddling beside him. He took in a deep breath, placing his hand on the cat, “you’re not so bad after all, gatito.” Pedro closed his eyes, the purring was soothing to him. 

You came home earlier than expected the next day. You weren’t having that much fun at your friends house, “Papi?” you called out, but no response. It was still before nine, so there was a good chance your dad was still asleep. You made your way over to his room, but was quick to notice the open door and the empty bed. “Weird,” you said to yourself. You shrugged to yourself, he could’ve gone to run errands; you made your way over to your room. As soon as you opened the door, you were met with a surprise. Your dad laying on your bed, dead asleep, with your cat curled on top of him. You smiled as you took your phone out and captured the moment before posting it on your instagram, captioning it, “The dad and the cat he never wanted. #CatDad” 

You climbed on the bed, lifting your cat off of your dad, “What are you doing with my gatito?” You heard your dad say. 

You chuckled, “Your gatito?” 

“We bonded last night,” your dad mumbled, “now put him back.” You rolled your eyes before placing your cat back on top of your dad. Your dad opened his eyes before sitting up on the bed, placing the cat on his lap. He placed a small kiss on your forehead, “What are you doing home so soon?” 

You shrugged, “was anxious to see the damage.” 

“No damage here.” 

“Really? Because it seems to me we have no T.V.” 

“Some damage here,” your dad smiled. 

“Plus, I would have never gotten to see this gem if I didn’t come home early,” you said as you pulled your phone out and showed him your instagram post. 

“Ay, mija,” Pedro exclaimed. “You couldn’t have made me look, I don’t know, nicer? Look you can see the drool on my cheek!” 

You laughed as you zoomed into the picture, “even better!” 

Pedro couldn’t help but laugh too, it was contagious. The drool on his face didn’t matter to him, all that mattered was that you were happy.

[oatmealmika]

FEM! TRAFALGAR LAW HEADCANONS BECAUSE I LOVE WOMEN

a/n : sometimes i just wish law was actually written as a girl cuz DAMN

first off, CLOTHES SHE'D WEAR!!

i'm getting major streetwear/chola style vibes from fem! law

like i mean ripped up baggy jeans, croptops, hoodies, oversized t-shirts, sports bras, long clickity clackity nails (if she really wanted to but very occasionally), and of course (his? her?) their hat

she got her earrings done when she was too little to remember so it's just annoying to have to redo them every so often

i have no clue who'd do her tattoos since she most definitely wouldn't trust some sketchy guy to do them

maybe herself but i don't think that's it either

and whenever you ask her, she makes up a different story (like that one blond guy in "ratatouille" who has a criminal record)

"woke up with it" "they're stick n pokes" "this guy i knew who would only wear bucket hats" and of course "nunya"

she is half german and half mexican (may or may not be self projection with the mexican part)

i get HUGE ymir from aot vibes with fem! law

she appears rude, hardheaded, and pessimistic, but she really does care about others and does have some hope in her (wishing her crew likes her horrendous hawaiian shirts)

her music taste is rock, rap, indie dream pop (tv girl), and then sad spanish songs that slap way too hard (i'm thinking "no me queda mas" by selena, a bunch of vicente fernandez songs my mom loves to play at full volume, and "amor eterno" by rocio durcal)

def not straight i mean just look at fem! law fanart on tumblr bro like honey... and man, am i glad she isn't straight cuz GODDAMN

if you go out with her, you need to order for her pls she can't do it on her own

but she will take the bill, no excuses

i think the type of person she needs as a partner would have to be okay with silence, they have to be outgoing and fun but mature with intense situations, and yeah

plays the bass guitar and has been for years

also plays the drums but her main instrument is bass

really wants to be in a band but not really since she hates the idea of having to be nice all the time for the public

at a mall, she either hangs out at hot topic, barnes and nobles, or justice the whole time

got a bunch of piercings all over her but that's a secret lol nobody knows...

UNTIL I TELL YOU: bellybutton, industrial, conch, ear lobe, tragus, bridge, middle tongue, hip, nipple, and then a bunch of genital piercings i will not be discussing any further XD

her most used apps are photos, notes, tumblr, pinterest, depop, and....... ao3

OKAY OKAY as hard as it might be to believe this, this is NOT self projection it is TRUTH

she doesn't religiously read fics or anything, just occasional oneshots about her nerdy crap when she's bored or something

my girl out here reading her "sora, warrior of the sea" 10k+ fics 💀

if you take her home to meet the family, at first they'll be thrown off by her intimidating looks, but soon enough they'll realize what a little loser she is! the cutie patootie she is <3

LOVE LOVE LOVES cringy 70s/80s/90s movies (think "grease", "the princess bride", "pretty in pink", "10 things i hate about you", etc.)

she doesn't know why. she hates the dumb stereotypes and all that stuff, but she just can't help it! she's so real for it too

idk why but i feel like she'd LOVE spiderman???? like as an obsession?

she is pretty normal about the live action movies, it's just SPIDERVERSE THAT MAKES HER GO CRAZY

she also wants to be good at art but never has motivation to do it

she def has an upside down smile (that what it's called? i think of it more as a "oh that's cringy look and stare y'all" smile)

is she scrawny? muscular? i can't decide honestly. like yeah guy law has some brawn, but he is still a pretty lanky guy, so that's why i see fem! law as a lanky chick. but i love muscular women... goddamn she is just lanky. she obviously has some meat on her bones, but not much.

that being said, i don't think she's very curvaceous either (let's pretend oda didn't draw her the way he did). she is no doubt an a cup, and while her butt is fairly larger, she's still pretty flat.

she also only ever wears sports bras since she thinks regular bras are uncomfy and a hassle.

for a va to replace masc! law's, i would say for japanese romi park. for english, i'd say either trina nushimura or elizabeth maxwell.

for one piece live action, i would want like zendaya as fem! law 😭 aye anything for queen zendaya

only bepo knows this, but she wears socks and sandals on sundays no fail.

has a tattoo somewhere of bepo's name inside a heart with an arrow through it (think those tattoos that tough guys get, with instead of bepo, "mom" is what's written)

fem! law still wears ugly ass hawaiian shirts, don't get it mixed up ✊

that's all for now :)

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

have a good day!!

[rwrbficrecs]

June Faves

It’s that time of the month again!! Here’s a few fics I read in June ✨ It’s a bit of a short list for June because I got sucked into a new ship *cough tarlos cough* – but we’re only halfway through this month and I already know July’s post is probably going to be pretty long! Hope you enjoy these as much as I did ❤️

Fall Into You by lucy_in_the_sky I’m a sucker for fics where Henry’s a nurse – combine that with hurt/comfort and I’m there. Alex is a tad clumsy and of course it’s Henry that’s having to deal with patching him up. Also a big fan of Nora’s characterization in this fic! I truly loved this fic so much – definitely one I’ll be coming back to a lot in the future. 

i'd lie by greenandmoss Wow this fic was amazing – I can’t describe how much I loved it. I really felt for Henry in this fic – at times I wanted to shake him so bad, but also I understood where he was coming from. This fic was so beautifully written and was one of those fics that had me thinking about it long after I'd finished 😌

pride is not the word i’m looking for by @livinginrhythm This fic made me realize we’re severely lacking in Leo content. I loved reading something from Leo’s POV and getting more of insight into his character! This is a lovely must read

group therapy by @stutteringpeach This one is hilarious – but it also made me want to sink deep into the ground from second-hand embarrassment. That didn’t stop me from rereading it at least 5 times though 😅

Tell Me All Your Secrets by @everwitch-magiks I have to admit I was apprehensive about reading a fic where Henry dates Liam 😂 but I love everything Evie writes so I knew I was going to love this story regardless of my initial feelings on Henry/Liam. Knowing that it’s Henry/Alex end game was reassuring though, and the progression to that point was very satisfying! (The pining!!) I loved how New York Prite was featured in this fic and seeing Henry & Alex attend was so lovely. 

The Spirit of Giving by @cha-melodius They're neighbours in this fic (which I'm always down for 😂) and I loved how Alex's competitive side really comes out in this! Also fair warning this fic will make you crave some good Mexican food 🥲

and then i was a careless fool (and i fell in love with you) by newmoonrising A canon divergence fic where Henry is still a Prince and Alex is still the First son but make it a Soulmate AU (with a touch of bed sharing)! As someone who loves soulmate fics I don't know how I hadn't discovered this gem sooner ❤️

you took the time to memorize me (my fears, my hopes, my dreams) by @coffeecatsme Alex is a tour guide and I love how their relationship develops even though there’s so much physical distance between them. I didn’t know it was possible but this fic made me hate Mary even more 😩

That's What You Get For Waking Up in Vegas by bleedingballroomfloor Exes to Lovers !! Getting back together!! (at this point I’m just shouting the tags but really this fic was great and you need to read it – also it’s set in Las Vegas c’mon as if that’s not reason enough)

let me take you in by @livinginrhythm This was such a funny story and I love when Henry gets himself into situations that are completely avoidable, but they lead him to Alex so can he really complain? Another story I loved so much I reread it many many times!

Are You Screwing With Me? by @rmd-writes Didn’t know I needed a Grindr meet-cute AU until I read this and it was perfect. While you’re at it, there’s two other stories in this series for two other fandoms !!

(all of me changed like) midnight rain by @coffeecatsme This fic really makes you feel for Alex – it deals with his parents divorce and just wow 🥺

The Sky is Open by @cha-melodius I am often in awe at some of the AU’s authors come up with to dump Henry & Alex in and this was one of them. Unexpected and a very delightful read!

midnight train going anywhere by greenandmoss Loved this fic – Henry & Alex meet on a midnight train and I don’t know what else to say about this fic without spoiling it, so just go read it!  

✨WIP✨

Every Star That's Ever Fallen Knows the Way to Where We're Going by @dracowillhearaboutthis I love Henry & Alex as childhood friends, so following this WIP was a no brainer. Having Arthur alive is also a lovely bonus ❤️

Little Matters by @pridepages I’m loving reading along as this fic gets updated! Henry is the guardian of his niece and it’s such a beautiful story so far 🥺

[callsign-bunnie]

dunno if u still wanna take requests for angst night but: Rudy getting beat half to death in front of like basically the whole team all bc he won’t give up info that could put the rest in danger? go wild w it

So, fair warning, I couldn't think up a piece of information, so he doesn't actually have the information they want and they don't believe him. (Also, it's not angst night anymore but I loved this prompt so I decided to do it, anyway.)

--

There was something oddly humiliating about being untied when all of you friends are tied up. Especially when you knew there was only one reason why you were left untied.

Waking up in the middle of a circle of chairs, his gear having been stripped from him, and realizing that everyone he'd gone on this mission with was tied up in chairs, staring at him with a mixture of confusion and concern was... violating in a uniquely awful way.

Maybe it was because he knew what was coming. The Narcos were smart. They knew he'd immediately be up to undo his friends' binds, so this had to be a conscious choice.

He shielded his eyes to the light, sitting up. Breathe evenly, don't panic yet. He counted his friends. Soap, Alejandro, Price, Gaz... Every single member he'd went on mission with. Ghost had went off, alone, for a separate mission.

Fuck. All of them looked disoriented, though Alejandro and Soap both looked pissed as hell. Rodolfo took in the room. It was huge and there were several Narcos, standing almost casually. "You're awake." One of them commented, stepping through a gap between chairs. There was a decent amount of space, which only made Rodolfo more afraid.

Rodolfo shielded his eyes again, trying to get a good look at him. He didn't say anything, having been kidnapped enough times to know that begging for his life would not spare it.

"Silent man, eh? We will fix that." The man, Rodolfo's eyes had adjusted enough that he started to recognize him. His name was Luiz, he was one of Valeria's Narcos. "Where is El Sin Nombre?"

Rodolfo frowned. "I do not know. El Sin Nombre and I have had no contact."

"Will one of your friends know?" He gestured to them and Rodolfo shook his head. He was telling the truth. He hadn't spoken to Valeria since she was released from their arrest. He had no plans to, either.

Luiz narrowed his eyes at Rodolfo. "You're lying. I want El Sin Nombre's location, now."

"I do not have El Sin Nombre's location." Rodolfo glared at him, irritated. "Trust me, I'm sick of him. If I had it, it would be yours." Even though he hated Valeria, he wouldn't blow her cover.

Luiz sighed. "You should cooperate with me." He crouched down, putting his face in Rodolfo's. "You're not going to like this if you don't."

Rodolfo had the feeling he wasn't going to like this, either way. "I am cooperating and I am telling you the truth." He kept his tone even, his voice smooth. He didn't want to provoke him.

Luiz stood, watching him for a moment. Then, he gestured one of the others forward. He cracked his knuckles. "What do you want broken first, boss?"

"His hand. Start small."

Rodolfo really had to fight the panic, now. "I don't know where he is!" Rodolfo tried not to look at any of the others, but his eyes met Gaz's. He looked terrified. Rodolfo knew he was a soldier, but he was so young... He shouldn't have to witness this.

Rodolfo didn't fight it as his hand was grabbed and laid on the floor. He bit back a scream when it was stomped on, feeling the break, immediately.

"Will you speak now?" Luiz asked. "Or should I break your arm?"

"I. Don't. Know. Where. He. Is." Rodolfo repeated, panting from pain. His hand burned and throbbed, though he was used to this pain. He'd broken it himself many times.

Luiz shook his head and went to Alejandro, ripping the tape off his mouth. "Where is El Sin Nombre?"

"Go fuck yourself. None of us know." Alejandro glared at him. "If I did, he'd be in my prison, immediately, awaiting trial."

"You are Mexican special forces, no? Tell me where he is."

"We don't know!" Alejandro cursed at him.

Luiz snapped his fingers. "Break his arm." He gestured to Rodolfo. Rodolfo let out a soft frustrated noise, but didn't say anything.

Alejandro, however, immediately let out a strain of several curses and threats.

The other Narco did as commanded, yanking Rodolfo up and twisting his arm. Rodolfo couldn't suppress his cry of pain, that time. Thankfully, it was the same arm, and he was let go again. "Why can't you listen to us??" Rodolfo asked, holding his arm. "We don't know!"

"Because you're lying." Luiz seemed to consider. "I think he likes pain." He commented to Alejandro, who was glaring deeply at him. "Beat him until his lips are loosened. If he dies, pull one of the others out of the chair and start on them."

Rodolfo shook his head. "We are telling the truth, I swear it, we are telling the truth. I'm not lying, we don't-" He paused as he was lifted again, struggling as much as he could. "Please... we are not lying."

It was no use. Luiz didn't even look at him, just grabbed Alejandro's face and forced him to stay looking at Rodolfo. Rodolfo gasped in pain as his gut was punched and he hunched over, immediately, unable to breathe.

It was punched again and again until he was vomiting blood. He slumped over as he was dropped, cringing to find he was at Price's feet. He didn't like the apology that was in his eyes as he looked up and met them.

He was kicked away from him, landing on his back. He stared at the ceiling, needing to catch his breath, but he wasn't given that chance, lifted again.

It felt like it lasted for hours until Rodolfo almost couldn't keep himself conscious, the only thing keeping him away being the occasional pain that ripped through his body from some new impact.

When Luiz crouched down, Rodolfo realized that he knew they didn't really know. He could see it in his smirk. The smugness that was there. "Do you want to tell me now?"

"You know we don't know..." Rodolfo was exhausted. He wanted to just collapse. He hung his head, shaking it. "Why? Why are you doing this?"

Rodolfo suppressed a whimper of pain as his hair was grabbed and his head was lifted. "She thinks she's so clever. But I know the truth. She's not invulnerable." He pat Rodolfo's face before standing and getting out his gun. "One last chance-" Luiz stopped as the doors open.

"Luiz? Torturing people without me?" Valeria stepped in. Several men followed her and she gestured. Rodolfo tensed. This did not soothe his nerves one bit. Her being there was not a good thing.

Rodolfo, however, couldn't keep himself up to really fight it. He collapsed, rolling on his back and trying to breathe, staring at the ceiling. He drowned out the sound of cussing and gun fire, closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, he almost jumped back at blue eyes staring into his own. "Why is it always you that they pick to torture?" Ghost asked, shaking his head.

"Why are you always a pain in my ass, cabron?" Rodolfo retorted, crying in pain when he was lifted. "You're too tall-" He was passed to Soap and so he shut up, leaning heavily on him. "Where's Alejandro- nevermind, I hear him."

Loud Spanish yelling could be heard from the hallway right outside the door. It was a mix of Alejandro's very distinguishable voice and Valeria's very distinguishable voice and Rodolfo shook his head. They were arguing about her timing.

"Apparently, Ghost went and got her when he realized what was going on." Soap explained, helping guide Rodolfo around the dead bodies. "She was pissed."

"I hear." Rodolfo chuckled, closing his eyes for a moment. Cold flooded his chest. "I can't... I need to sleep..." He struggled to keep himself awake and was soon falling off of Soap, out before he even hit the floor.

[bluest-planet]

Miguel O'Hara Analysis from a First Gen Latine Perspective; Crab in a Bucket.

Alright, I'm gonna start this by saying this: I am definitely not the most articulated person when it comes to explaining my thoughts. Most of this is just putting my heart on the page by relating what I saw in Miguel's behavior and just one outlook out of many layered analyses.

Anyways, here's my analysis of Miguel O'Hara and how his internalized racism and generational trauma/jealousy stands out to me, especially as a first gen mixed Latine.

Let's lay some groundwork for my perspective first! Hey, you can call me Moonie or Blue. I use it/they pronouns, proud to be queer! I'm a highschool dropout, and both of my parents were immigrants from rural and abusive families. Mexican and Salvadoran/Salvi to be clear. Have lived in poverty my entire life, and been whitewashed and forced to assimilate to keep up appearances for a good chunk of life.

I've heard bits and pieces about Miguel's comic origin, but haven't read them myself so apologies if I get some things wrong. I have seen Spiderverse 5 times so I feel like that's good enough. Anyways here's a story anecdote;

I went to Mexico not that long ago, to learn a trade from some family. Real blue collar, labor intensive, factory work. I was there for a while, and really got to marinate in what it's like to live in a country where you're not the minority anymore. I'm not targeted, I wasn't (entirely) racialized anymore. I was able to explore my family's culture more. Not that I've ever been entirely separated from it. But growing up in a white school where knowing Spanish forces you to go to English classes even though I had proved myself multiple times does something to you.

You assimilate, you're taken away from your culture. Anyone like you. It's lonely. And when you do find someone else like you, even if it's not the same country, but just latine, it's usually a fun experience to share our lives. Like a little secret between us no one else has. But as you grow and see more people, you realize how separate you are from the rest. I can't exactly relate to the latine-american experience (tm) like others do. I don't call myself Mexican or Salvi American, I don't like to. I didn't grow up that way. Ive always preferred to use the first generation. Or child of immigrants.

Miguel O'Hara is a mixed Mexican/Irish man. And from what I've seen; not all that attached to his Mexican identity either. It's made more prevalent in the movie however. He doesn't have a strong accent, he has the high cheekbones and eyes I'd recognize on a cousin. But the strong jawline and sunken face of a mixed man who's certainly not taking care of himself.

He reminds me of my cousins. Or my uncles.

He displayed a familiar rage to my own; lashing out and stressed. But it's got some sinister machismo underlaid in it. When he yells at Miles, all I see is my dad yelling at me, or myself yelling at my dad. Bc anger is the only way we knew how to communicate and express ourselves living under so much scrutiny all the damn time.

Bc yes; the spiderverse is amazingly diverse, and anyone can be the mask. But Miguel obviously doesn't really see it that way. There are exceptions. It's always come off to me how most of the maskless spiders we see have black and brown faces. And while I'm sure it's not all white. The amount of Peter Parkers. I'm sure they are the large majority. Or at least it feels like that.

Maybe he sees the spiders that aren't peters as straddling a thin line. A tenuous canonicity in a sea of Parkers. They don't break canon, but they're outliers. It just reminds me of the few black kids or brown kids I'd see in my white school. Maybe one or two in my own classes. And none of us reached out to each other often. We were left alone.

And left to be scrutinized by our white peers and teachers and school staff.

They might not say anything; but you feel that weight. That gaze on you at all times. I was lucky for being light skinned and ambiguous in my appearance. Some confused me for the few East Asian kids even. A more 'model' minority and free from more gazes able to 'pass'. Miguel is darker, but he's conventionally attractive, tall with straight hair and a sharp jawline instead of short, chubby cheeks, round face and curly hair.

I get praised for being light skinned and largely unblemished, for being skinnier than my siblings and having a more traditionally feminine fashion and hobbies. But my anger, temper, and lack of 'respect' downgrades me. My lack of education? More so.

My uncles would say;

"Well! Since you won't finish school, you might as well get a job wherever you can and support your family!"

"Yes, I'm trying my best, but I don't want to work for pennies and bad hours. A lot of places don't want to compensate me."

"How ungrateful! When we were your age, back in our day none of us were blessed to be in your position! You live in America, where you ungratefully gave up such great education and life! We were lucky to even go to elementary school! Your grandfather had us working in the fields, or fishing instead. And when we could work? We took what we could! It didn't matter if the company treated us right, paid us good, or gave us good hours, we did what we had to for the family! Your generation knows nothing of hard work!"

"But how can you have pride in that? How can you not understand how exploitative that was? Letting them work you like mules and destroy your bodies? Why did you not fight? Why would you want to suffer like that?"

"We know we were not treated right. But we have the guts to do work no one else wants to do! We're men! It's our duty to take pride in providing for the family. We break our bodies for our children and love– your parents did not do the same for you to copy our hardships. But if you won't take that opportunity given to you– then you'll face the consequences and learn your place. The companies will never treat us better; you should've been better sso you wouldn't have to face the same as us."

"So you agree? They won't change and they'll keep exploiting you or anyone else who doesn't exceed great expectations? That these companies are taking advantage of people as desperate as you to get away with it and shrugging off any attempts to unionize and make things better? They're enslaving our people. And you're just going to go along with it? Because that suffering makes you feel prideful, meaningful? Do you really just accept this shitty undeserving position in your life? All because you feel like you deserve it for the outcome of your life you had no control over?"

That is to say. My relatives could not understand why I do not fit their perception of America. Even in Mexico, where although they are poor and the majority; they idolize the US. They boast about working illegally in the US under exploitive companies to bring the mighty American dollar home. They scoff at the notion of unions, government aid and compensation bc they think those that live in the US and work in blue collar jobs are undeserving of the scraps we get for being undereducated or face institutional racism at every corner. Even in their position it reeks of classism. For them the US is a temporary shitty job to work in order to make themselves richer bc the dollar is worth more than the peso. They can't empathize with their struggling relatives across the border bc hey! The US, is amazing. Nevermind it's the exact reason why their own country and many others face the hardships that they do.

They don't realize the internalized racism in their pride. Feeling as if their lack of education and standing makes them only deserving of the worst jobs. That it's the only thing they can do right and are worth for. That anyone who doesn't succeed even after getting a better chance only deserves the same pain in order to uplift someone else's worth and has a chance. You become a lost cause; your only worth is a cog in the system and uphold the status quo. Never to question it, never to try to reach above your station after you missed your chance.

Like crabs in a bucket, they want to drag you down with them. Out of jealousy and misdirected anger. And for not meeting expectations. And for your own good, to learn your place.

Older relatives, and even immigrant parents often become extremely jealous of their children. For getting better lives they tried so hard to secure for them and for having the things they never had; or for not going through their own hardships. So they try to live vicariously through their children. Giving them great expectations to live up to bc they don't know how to compartmentalize all the racist trauma it took for them to get there and the real faceless enemy that put them through it. But their children have faces, their children are theirs– not people but property says America, and Catholic/Christian culture.

Immigrant parents love to pull the card of how indebted their children are to them, guilt trip them with their own pasts and current struggles. God forbid if you try to fight back and question the one authority and control they have over you.

Not all parents of course; But Miguel reflects this too me.

He may be more coded as being whitewashed and excluded from his culture. But he tries to fit in a curated collection he doesn't fit with. He puts up appearances as a strict, competent leader, but since he has an unremovable aspect to him that separates him from the rest- he wasn't bitten, he was mutated with a spider- which everyone makes clear to you.

Everyone makes it clear that you're not white, even when white culture is all you know having been so sanitized, defanged and removed from your own. That you wont ever fit in and must grovel for the rest of your life to make up for it. Even if it's all you've ever known.

Miguel is a spider, but he wasn't bitten so he's not a 'true' spider he tells himself. He's othered as well with what I interpret as unintentional microaggressions.

"He's like a ninja vampire but a good guy."

"you're just gonna have to shut up and trust me, I'm a good guy!" "You don't look like a good guy."

"You're like the only spiderman who isn't funny!"

"Dude are you sure you're even spiderman?"

-

"You're like a feisty Latina!"

"Wait, you were born here?"

"You don't look Latina!"

"Are you sure you're even Mexican if you can't speak it?"

He uses English more often, and Spanish as a quick add in. English is obviously preferred due to the fact his accent isn't all that strong and uses short repeated words or phrases.

He's violent when he first meets Miles. Throwing a trash can at him, rejecting his food, and admonishing him for something that wasn't necessarily his fault. But he does 'cool down'.

Him throwing the can reminds me of machismo, and how violent Latino men can get. It's a bad stereotype but for the movie- this struck me more as a critique of it. Enforcing some weird dominance and need to be aggressive to follow that weird expectation and allowances but also– it feels in line with who he is.

I have had more than a few rough patches being physically violent to express my anger when I couldn't win something or felt too small and had to lash out to make myself feel heard. Hitting someone, slamming doors, breaking things, yelling, and destroying things. I moved past that stage as I grew older and wasn't a child anymore. But hell. I've don't things I'm not proud of yet can't help because all my life you're told to be the model brown person. To never express rage and seem like the monster everyone is waiting for you to show. To it lies festering until you can use it behind closed doors. Latina girls aren't allowed to be visibly angry like that- and while it's expected from Latino boys, and feared when Latino men express it. Most of the time, we're not allowed to spread anger at all. Otherwise it does make us unreasonable, angry monsters.

You're not allowed to be angry or frustrated. Which only makes it worse.

I'm not excusing his actions. But his rage reminds me of my father or a relative, or even my own lashing out on a younger family member because it's so normalized to do it only to family and the young- the only excusable people to express it at without repercussions.

But then he cools down, he gets quieter, when Peter B walks in. And reminds himself of his audience and a fellow adult.

He then tried to be more rational and explains to Miles what he believes he did wrong. Tries to even relate his own trauma to convince and prep him to not put up a fight when he inevitably tells him the truth of what's to come.

"you can't ask me to just let my dad die!"

"I'm not asking."

It's a familiar emotion. When an adult, a father, a mother, an aunt, an uncle, or even a sibling tells you that something is going to happen whether you like it or not. Enforcing that will onto you for 'your own good.' Or because it's what 'has to happen."

Miguel is jealous of Miles. He got bit, he's more traditional in origin than Miguel, but he won't follow the expectations and 'bright future' he's been set up for. For 'wasting' his chance. A chance Miguel would die for. One similar to his own. As an anomaly that replaced/continued the mantle of spiderman after their original perished.

Because why would Miguel only mess with Miles now, instead of when he had a chance? If he had all this time and knew about him, why wouldn't he just cut the problem from the root earlier? Why would he let Miles live and work so hard just to restrain him for the canon even of his dad dying to pass? Why would he let Miles be this 'Original' Anomaly and run free?

Bc he knows on some level, he's spiderman too. More than he is. Miles still fulfills his position as spiderman in his verse. There's no need for Miguel to kill him or do anything other than make sure the canon still happens in that verse and then never let him escape his own world again. Nor does he likely really want to hurt/kill Miles. Honestly, it seems if Miguel had it his way from the start; Miles would have been left completely alone and isolated from ever knowing about the Spider Society at large and let him be Spiderman of his world. If he didn't know about the society he wouldn't know about the canon even and try to circumvent it and everything would have been smooth.

Bc what happens if Miguel won and kept Miles at HQ? His dad died and he's sent back to being Spiderman forever excluded from HQ? He never tries to get rid of him. And it's obvious; he never did anything to help the 42! Miles' universe beforehand either. Content to just let it be before Miles gets there. It doesn't seem like he has any plans to actually do anything about a verse missing a spiderman so long as it's not destabilizing.

He's mad that now there has to be a spiderman that took the place of one that didn't need to die; but that world still needed a spiderman Miles fulfilled. Now there's one without a spiderman too, but he can't take the spiderman from one world to the other– not when, although it's in shambles, it is still intact. He doesn't need to intervene. He just need to uphold the status quo and never question it.

He's jealous that Miles got to be a more traditional spiderman, but none of the hardship because he feels like Miles didn't do anything to deserve becoming spiderman in the first place. But if he's going to be one, then he better fit his exact mold to make it up to him. To prove he has worth in the cog. Accept the shitty hand he's been dealt and take pride in the awful like he has bc that's the only way to make him feel like he has any worth too anymore.

Miguel tried to rise above his station, he aimed for that better life. And what did it get him? Nothing. Everything was taken away from him. It was just proof by the universe telling him he did not deserve a better life than the shitty one he was dealt. He's just like my uncles, traumatized from working hard for pennies, and thinks he's deserving of it, because he wasn't educated/a traditional spiderman. And that anyone else who doesn't take the better opportunities needs to be taken down with him in shared suffering.

He sees Miles: another mixed kid, optimistic and worthy, confusingly rejecting every opportunity in the face of a little short term pain. Giving it all up bc of one small hiccup. He thinks Miles is ungrateful and greedy, wanting it all; after all he's seen what happens when you try to have it all.

In a twisted way. He thinks having his father die is the lesser evil, the smaller pain. A singular familial death is a small piece to pay for an entire stable universe and the glory spiderman brings. That by showing this reasoning to Miles, not giving him a choice and just enforcing it like he knows better than an ignorant child will save him the pain and effort. He's teaching Miles his internalized racism and trauma. Passing it down to him like it's a survival lesson. Telling him to swallow it like a bitter pill that will make him feel better. He treats Miles like getting bit was a moral failure and that he has to make up for it.

But like me to my Uncles. And Miles to Miguel, he tells him it isn't right. That thinking is wrong. This system isn't my fault. It's a bad system that needs to change so this never happens again. You don't have to suffer to succeed and survive. You don't have to accept scraps when you can reach for the full meal. You have to try for something better, no matter how hard, and fight to make things better.

Don't let sleeping dogs lie. Miguel can wallow for all Miles cares, but he isn't going to let himself lose that same fire for doing what's right and aiming for a life that he wants for himself and his friends that they actually deserve.

Elders let the status quo remain, they often feel like nothing will change, but we can't accept that otherwise nothing will actually get better, never going out of that system that beat them down. Constantly expecting the younger generation to bend to their will and experiences. Miles and Hobie make it a point to show that no, they can put up a fight and they should and shame everyone else for just accepting that false narrative blindly.

There's so much more I could get into but this is long. Like how he contradicts himself to better suit his argument and what not. I have so much to say but this was all what I've been rotating since watching the movie a ton of times. None of this even low-key touched on my issues on how he's viewed and portrayed by fans but- I hope this outlook kinda helps to humanize him? Like. Of course I know he's being unreasonable and violent/aggressive towards a kid. But at the same time, I feel like most people just see him as this angry violent person who is just on some self righteous power trip asshole instead of a complex character and TO ME- a reflection on latine elders and yet also what it's like to grow up whitewashed/undervalued and trying to bestow that trauma to a younger Latino boy as a bad way of teaching a life lesson, to assimilate him. It comes from a bad place of… not love, but just. Wanting to prepare someone for hardship and yet not questioning why he have to deal with that hardship in the first place.

Anyways good night! It's 3:30 am dear God excuse any mistakes I needed this out of my system.