a narcos tv fandom sideblog, reblogs from ashlingiswriting
you can call me Ashling, she/her
askbox is open ;)
join the narcos fandom forever chat! (discord invite, our tumblr)
READERFIC
no witness // Walt Breslin/Reader, 2.4k, on tumblr
he keeps his rules. you keep him. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, 1.1k, on tumblr, on AO3
blood on vacation // David Barrón/Reader, 1.8k, on tumblr
blood, horses, postponed // Andrea Nuñez/Reader, ficlet on AO3
play the refrain // Hector “Güero” Palma x Reader, 5k, on tumblr, on AO3
take it // Javier Peña/Reader, 2.1k, on tumblr, on AO3
Bride’s Choice // Benjamín Arellano Félix/Reader, ficlet on tumblr
sequel: Bride’s Delight // Benjamín/Reader, 2k on tumblr
open gate // Javier Peña/Reader, 5.1k, on tumblr, on AO3
cauterize. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, 3.6k, chapter one on AO3, on tumblr
I’ll come back for you // Benjamín Arellano Félix/Reader, ramble turned to fic, on tumblr
last rites. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, 4.8k, on AO3, on tumblr
he is not dead. // Horacio Carrillo/Reader, ficlet, on AO3, on tumblr
The Dancer // Narcojuniors/F!Reader, Benjamín & Reader, 1.8k, on AO3, on tumblr
Dinamita // Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada/F!reader, 2.2k, on tumblr
North Star // Enedina Arellano Félix/Reader, 1.3k, on AO3, on tumblr
FANFIC
two tests // Carrillo & Trujillo & Calderoni crossover ficlet
what we do now // Feistl x Van Ness post-canon ficlet
self-elegy of the latehomecomer // David Barrón character study, 1k, on AO3
survivor’s forgiveness // César Gaviria/Eduardo Sandoval angst, 1.3k, on AO3, on tumblr
portrait of hunter in exile. // Horacio Carrillo character study, 2.1k, on AO3, on tumblr
Unfinished Business // Enedina Arellano Félix/Isabella Bautista infidelity and under-negotiated kink, 3.7k, on AO3
not right/not enough // Horacio Carrillo/Javier Peña, ficlet, on AO3, on tumblr
one shell casing // Güero & Chapo angst, 1.4k, on AO3, on tumblr
you’re sharp all right // Walt character study, 1k, on AO3
RANDOM
Meta
Incorrect Narcos: Mexico Quotes
a softer Narcos
Who’s Your Narcos Mexico Match (short version) // on uQuiz
THE DRUG WAR
I used to only have a link to NORML here in favor of weed decriminalization, but tbh the real life drug war is beyond complicated and I feel ridiculous talking policy on a fandom blog. Let’s not do that. This is not real life, this is me watching footage of Alberto Guerra smirking at Mayra Hermosillo.
Saalud a mi gente! We in the Narcos Fandom Forever discord server are excited to bring another 30-day challenge: a multifandom event that we’re nevertheless calling Narcovember. Despite its name, this is open to ALL FANDOMS, NOT JUST NARCOS. Creators are encouraged to submit fanworks (fic, art, gifs, vids, op-eds) for any fandom your heart desires!
This event's format is a bit unconventional. Instead of a prompt for each day of the month, there's a Prompt Roulette Wheel and a Prompt Index (☟ below) featuring numbered items with three prompts each. Every day you'll spin the wheel. The number that comes up on the spin corresponds to a number on the index where you can then pick one of the three prompts.
So for example, say on day one, I spin the wheel and get number 8. I’d go to 8 on the index (titled These Damn Restraints). Of those three prompts, I like Yikes best so that's my day one prompt. Next day, I spin and get 14. I find 14 on the index (Decisions, Decisions, Decisions) and pick one of those for day two's prompt. And so on. Note: If, on Day 2, instead of 14 I got 8 again, I’d spin the wheel again to get a new number. If, for whatever reason, you don’t want to spin twice, you can choose another prompt from that "Book of" that you haven't used (e.g. Day 1, I chose Yikes. So Day 2, I’d go for, "Now you know why I never say anything.") Ideally, we think it’s more fun to not repeat index items, but ultimately it’s dealer’s choice. Aka we're not about to get real fascist policing, aint nobody got time for that.
Here's -> the roulette wheel. Or you can make your own! (Just make sure it has 30 slices.)
Use the hashtag #narcovember or tag us to submit your entries so we can reblog them! A note on the masterlist - bc of the Tumblr-imposed link limit, for now we'll only link the fic. BUT at the end of the month, there will be a comprehensive list with all the contributors’ blogs so ppl can find your other work easily.
Happy spinning, everybody!
❖ Prompt Index ❖
1 — Book of Genesis
Fanwork inspired by someone else’s fanwork (be sure to tag the creator of the OG work!)
“The fun begins here.”
Ghosts
2 — Book of Fuck-ups
Righteous indignation glo-up aka fanwork that corrects a plot misstep or writing blunder that bugs the shit outta you
“It’s not the what-ifs that fuck you up, so much as the what-might-have-beens.”
Bite
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> more prompts below the cut <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
3 - Book of Stuff That Goes in the Junk Drawer
Fanwork inspired by a song and include why the song sparked the idea (was it the lyrics, genre? something you thought a character would like? etc)
“It’s never too late to make history.”
Juice
4 — Book of the Uno-Card-Reverse
Fanwork based on your fav reverse/inverse trope**
“Evil isn’t always forever.”
Mirrors
5 — Book of Negative Spaces
Fanwork using a line from a diff show/movie as a prompt (e.g. line from Mad Men, “I don’t think of you at all” in a Narcos fic, line from Band of Brothers, “The only hope you have is to accept the fact that you’re already dead,” in a Hannibal fic, etc etc)
“We gain more from our mistakes than our success, you know that?”
Pitch
6 — Book of (un)Consciousness
Fanwork inspired by a dream you’ve had (include 1-2 sentence summary of the dream at the beginning of the post)
“Just dream with me.”
Technicolor
7 — Book of Time-travel
Fanwork inspired by ancient mythology (Greek, Norse, aztec, celtic, etc. Bible counts as mythology, fuck it)
“It’s only a matter of time.”
Constellation
8 — Book of These Damn Restraints
Fanwork that ends with 2(+) characters trapped in a phone booth with no way out
“Now you know why I never say anything.”
Yikes
9 — Book of Fateful Conversations
Fanwork where the plot takes place entirely in the back of a cab OR where one character is the cab driver and the other is the passenger
“You'd be surprised what you can live with.”
Cursed
10 — Book of Nepo-baby Levels of Incompetence
Fanwork where character is in a profession they have no business being in with no prior training, so they fake knowing what they’re doing – like imposter syndrome except they’re just actually a fraud (e.g. Rust Cohle is a grief counselor, Richie Jerimovich is a hedge fund manager, Roman Roy is a beat cop)
“And who hasn’t believed a flattering lie?”
Evergreen
11 — Book of Pit Stops
Fanwork that starts with a character hitchhiking and getting picked up by another character(s)
“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”
Rush
12 — Book of Balancing In Between
Fanwork whose setting is a liminal space (e.g. empty swimming pool, bar or arcade after hours, airport terminal, church confessional, empty elevator, Twin Peaks black lodge, John Wick continental bar, etc)
“Good things come in threes.”
Wire
13 — Book of in Urgent Need of Assistance
Fanwork where a character wakes up on an empty submarine, 300ft underwater, thinking they’re the only person aboard until they run into another character(s)
“One day I’ll wake up and it won’t hurt so much.”
Desperate
14 - Book of Decisions, Decisions, Decisions
Crossover for 2(+) fandoms you have used before but 2(+) characters you’ve never used or vice versa
“All we have are our choices.”
Crossroads
15 — Book of How tf Did We Get Here
Fanwork that starts off with 2(+) characters waiting in line at the DMV and ends in a completely different, totally unpredictable, why-and-how-tf-did-we-get-here place
“There’s a moon a mile from here and nobody home.”
Ambition
16 — Book of Locally Sourced
Fanwork that mimics a bottle episode, so the entirety of it takes place in a relatively mundane setting (e.g. the stockroom of a store, interrogation room, a hotel lobby, waiting room of a doctor’s office, etc etc)
“Make yourself comfortable while you can."
Notebook
17 — Book of Inception
Fanwork that provides an origin story for a character that doesn’t have one in canon
“It (he/she/they) made me who I am.”
Improvement
18 — Book of Mysteries
Fanwork where 2(+) characters have to escape a panic room. Depending on fandom, this can be like the innocent party version that you take your friends to for someone’s bday, or can be an actual doomsday shelter
“I thought they were with you!?"
Endurance
19 — Book of Near Misses
Fanwork with 2(+) characters from the same movie/show/book who’ve never met
“Looks like we missed our window.”
Rattled
20 — Book of Sleight of Hand
Fanwork of partners (romantic, profesh, or both) running into each other unexpectedly while both are doing something criminal/something they know they aren’t supposed to do (e.g. burying a body, carrying out a heist, meeting someone they shouldn’t)
“You can't ask the truth from someone who trades in lies.”
Brace
21— Book of Nerves of Steel
Fanwork where 2(+) characters do a B&E, but get stuck when the owner unexpectedly comes home, and they whisper-yell argue over how to get out
“You won't believe the day I just had.”
Cortisol
22 — Book of Identity Theft
Fanwork where 2(+) characters meet accidentally bc one has accidentally dialed the wrong number (e.g. Syd [The Bear] tries to call Carm to yell at him for Something Dumb He Did but ends up calling Cousin Greg [Succession] instead)
“I'm not the one.”
Brand
23 — Book of Just Chaos™️™️™️
Cracked crossover/ship with 2(+) characters from very diff genres (e.g. Dwight Schrute [The Office] & Tommy Shelby [Peaky Blinders], Frenchie [The Boys] x Penelope [Bridgerton], etc)
“You’re my idiot, forever.”
Untouchable
24 — Book of Revelation
Fanwork where 2(+) characters are stranded in the desert and in a sick twist, must decide which one of them to leave behind in order for the other(s) to be saved
“I like that I don't have to worry about you.”
Rapture
25 — Book of Reciprocity
Fanwork where 2(+) characters play poker (or any card game that has betting) but the chips are magic and the winner gets extra years of life instead of money (e.g. say, in poker, green chips = $500, blue chips = $1k, red chips = $2k, black chips = $5k. In this scenario, green chips = 6mos, blue chips = 1yr, red chips = 2yrs, black chips = 5yrs, etc)
“Fine, I'll do it myself.”
Quid-Pro-Quo
26 — Book of Abduction
Fanwork where 2(+) characters get kidnapped by a kooky cult, are thrown into the trunk of a car together and have to figure out how to escape
“Somebody has to be paying attention.”
Spiral
27 — Book of Caretaking
Fanwork where a character accidentally shoots/stabs/otherwise maims another character and has to perform first responder, triage levels of first aid to save them (dealer’s choice as to whether it's successful bc yolo)
“Don't make me take care of you.”
Ritual
28 — Book of Weaponized Passive Aggression
Fanwork where 2(+) characters attend a dinner party and witness that moment when a couple starts passive-aggressively arguing but not outright fighting in front of the whole table and it’s even more painfully awkward than if they just straight up fought OR the 2(+) characters are the ones arguing making everyone else uncomfortable asf
“I wish you the best and I hope you find it far from me.”
Attitude
29 — Book of the (un)Dead
Fanwork where a character dies and another character shepherds them to the afterlife like their own personal grim reaper
“We bury our dead alive.”
Siesta
30 — Book of There's No Place Like ...
Back from the dead: a character came back wrong or right, but either way, no one else knows how to handle it
“Even if you make it, you’ll never really go home.”
Homesick
**There will be a reverse trope list in another post for examples.
For @narcosfandomdiscord's Day of International Relations: utilize that country in your work in some way: a character is from that country, a food from that country shows up, there’s international politics, etc. (The country I chose is Japan!)
Warnings: 18+, language, some angst, deals with the topic of reader taking care of her grandmother
Word Count: 3k
A/N: This story had no business getting as long as it did but oh well. Shout-out to my obaachan for all the little nuggets of inspo. I miss her all the time. Represent all day every day. 😌🇯🇵 (as per usual this is unedited and unbeta'd sksksk)
Narcos Mexico Taglist: @ashlingnarcos @hausofmamadas @garbinge @narcolini @cositapreciosa @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
You told him not to come over, that it wasn’t a good time. Granted, with the way things were you didn’t know if there was ever going to be a good time. The point still stood, though. It was a good point, great one even—if only Walt would’ve fucking listened to it. That was his thing, though, and he was ever consistent about it. There was no talking him out of things once he’d decided to do them, and there was no talking him into things once he’d made up his mind that it wasn’t for him.
So, despite your best efforts to keep things to a phone call, or better yet convince him to not even bother booking a flight with a layover by you, he still told you the time when his plane was going to be landing, and when he was going to show up at your door. At the time you’d made some snide remark, one that you more than earned the right to make, about how all that time went by when you were together and he refused to come and meet your grandmother, but now that you two had been broken up for an amount of time you didn’t want to think about, he was refusing to not stop by. Of course. Fucking Walt.
The cats alerted you to his presence before the knock at the door did. Those two little creatures who seemed to be nearly as old as your grandmother, knew each person as they came and went. They knew the nurses that stopped in so that you could go and get groceries, the neighbors who still stopped over every couple of weeks to drop off some kind of homemade meal or baked good. They especially knew your assistant who stopped by a couple times a week to swap out paperwork—he was their favorite because he always brought some kind of treat for them. But they didn’t know Walt. He wasn’t one of the people on their roster, so they lingered by the door, but far enough away to make a run for it if they didn’t like whoever was coming inside. You wished that you could take off and hide, too.
You took a deep breath as you undid the lock on the door. Pulling it open, you came face-to-face with Walt on your doorstep, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. A smile pulled at your lips out of reflex in direct contrast to all of the conflicting feelings you had about him in that moment.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were way out here,” he said, skipping over stilted greetings.
It put one checkmark in the column of things about him that you were grateful. A tired laugh slipped out of you. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a hike for sure.” You opened the door a little wider and stepped off to the side. “Come on, before the cats try to sneak out.”
He chuckled as he walked in, watching where he was putting his feet because of the aforementioned pets now taking up residence in your house. “Forgot about that part.”
You smiled as you were locking the door. “They’re really not that bad. It’s nice, you know, since I’m actually home to enjoy them now.”
It was a little ironic, and Walt knew it, that your grandmother was how you ended up with two pets. Living on the go working crazy hours meant that you never actually committed to getting any kind of pet—you didn’t think it would be fair to you or whatever animal you ended up bringing home from the shelter. It was on your list of things to do once you settled down, though. Your grandmother, on the other hand, had always said she was adamant about not wanting pets. Claimed she wasn’t an animal person, which you knew was a lie based on the fact that she would leave whatever scraps of food she could outside her back door for the feral cats by her house. Which is how she ended up with the two that were now living in your house with you, and with her. There was no moving her in without also taking the cats. So here you were, all four of you. And now Walt at least for the evening.
He left his boots by the door, and you didn’t miss the amused look on his face as he watched the cats slink out of the shadows to come and inspect them. You watched him watching them for a moment before clearing your throat to regain his attention. You nodded in the direction in the kitchen like he already knew the layout of your house.
“We can talk while I cook.”
He nodded as he followed you through the living room, taking quick stock of it before it led you into the kitchen. “Need help?”
You chuckled and shook your head. “Most help you can give me is sitting right,” you pointed at the small table set up with a couple chairs just out of the work zone area of the kitchen, “there and not touching my stuff.”
He did what you said, even if he was chuckling while he did it. “Missed that.”
You rolled your eyes as you turned the stove on. “Not from what I remember. Besides, even if I wanted you to help,” you plucked your chopsticks up off the counter, clicking them at him a couple times, “you can’t use chopsticks so you can’t.”
“Think they sell a thing called tongs,” he said jokingly.
You scoffed, a grin tugging at your lips. “Why would I waste my money on those when I’ve got so many pairs of these?” You turned back to the stove. “You should’ve learned how to use them.”
“Missed opportunities.” He said it lightly enough, easier to say it about something seemingly inconsequential as chopstick use rather than saying it about anything else having to do with the two of you.
There were a few beats of silence as he watched you pour a splash of oil into the frying pan. You could feel his stare and you didn’t allow yourself to think too much about how it made you feel. What good would it do?
“If you had to pick a day to drop by,” you finally said to break the silence, “this was a pretty good one.”
“Why’s that?” the twinge of amusement in his voice was audible, probably more amused by your statement because he knew you hadn’t wanted him to show up on any day.
“Gyoza and miso soup,” you responded, like you were a waiter at a restaurant. “Twice a week.”
“You sayin’ I should come ba—”
“No,” you cut him off with a chuckle as you started plucking the uncooked dumplings from the counter and placing them into the pan, the sizzle accompanying your simple statement of, “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“What if she likes me and wants me to come back? What then?”
You rolled your eyes even though your back was to him. “I doubt that would happen.”
“That’s not what you used to say.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not who she used to be, either,” you replied, weariness creeping into your voice without your permission.
The pause that followed was longer than it should’ve been. Without turning you still knew exactly what the look on Walt’s face was. You were glad for the lack of eye contact. Clearing your throat, you tried to do damage control. “Besides, you think the boys down in Guadalajara were giving you a hard time? She’ll make them seem like choir boys.”
“That where you get it from?” he quipped back without hesitation. Balance restored.
You laughed, nodding. “Had to get it from somewhere.”
Walt drummed his fingertips against the tabletop, not accustomed to sitting still and attempting to just relax in someone else’s home. Least of all your home, although he did that one to himself. “Anything I can…you know…”
His voice had quieted as the sentence went on, and you couldn’t help but to find it the tiniest bit funny. “That what you stopped in for, Breslin? To ask if you can help around the house?” Another pause, another silence that spoke volumes. “What’s up? You look like shit, so something must’ve happened.”
The sound he let out was somewhere between a laugh and a cough, choked by surprise at the blunt shift in conversation. “Shit. Alright.”
“What? I’m being nice. I said you don’t normally look like shit. Only when something happens.”
“Not what you said.”
Back still turned, you gave a dismissive wave with your chopsticks. “Close enough.”
This time you let the pause linger until he was brave enough to break it. “Shit went bad real fast.”
You frowned, an ache in your chest before you even knew what was coming next. “Where?”
“Chiapas.”
You knew better than to expect him to elaborate without being prompted. “What happened?” you asked, giving him the gift of no eye contact as you flipped your dumplings over in the pan.
“Ambush.” He sniffed, not because he was crying but because he was trying to make sure he kept it that way. “Lost a,” he sighed, “a lot of my fuckin’ guys.”
Your head dropped, eyes closing. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” He let out a tired laugh, one that you both knew he didn’t mean but he just didn’t know what else to do. “Only time I was ever glad that you left.”
You knew the sentiment behind what he was saying, but it didn’t stop your knee-jerk reply of, “I didn’t leave.”
You heard the puff of an exhale he let out. He knew his next move was crucial. Red wire or blue wire. The only advantage he had this time around, whether he knew it or not, was that you weren’t going to get loud and risk waking up your grandmother a few rooms over.
“I didn’t—” he stopped himself, knowing that regardless of the explanation the damage was already done.
Finally looking over your shoulder at him, you said, “I’m sorry about your team.”
He gave a tight nod. “Thanks.”
“What now?” you asked as your attention returned to the stove, moving the cooked dumplings from the pan to their own plate.
He shook his head. “I don’t fucking know. Figure out some other way, I guess.”
“You will,” you said with a nod. “Or if you don’t, Sal will. One of the two.”
It got a weak chuckle out of him. “Yeah.”
You wanted to follow up and ask him again what exactly he was looking for from you, what he wanted out of this whole interaction, but in a way you already knew. He was a glutton for punishment—always had been. Losing his team wasn’t enough, he wanted to remind himself of all the other stuff he lost too. Ultimate Misery Tour, headliner Walt Breslin. Normally you’d try to snap him out of it, but you were tired too. Different kind of tired from a different kind of work, but still tired. You knew Walt could see that in you too.
The silence that followed felt heavy, but not unbearably so. It wasn’t a uncomfortable as it could’ve been, as it probably should’ve been. You moved onto the next part of the routine. Making the soup wasn’t going to take very long. If there was one thing about your grandmother, it was that every recipe she used on a regular basis could be completed, top to bottom, in twenty minutes or less. She never had the patience for anything else.
While you were waiting for it to finish, you grabbed one of the dumplings off the plate and placed it on a paper towel before stepping over and handing it to Walt. No words were exchanged as he took it, just offering a nod in thanks, which you returned before going back to the stove again. You heard the quiet chuckle he let out a few moments later, and you smiled. Good food couldn’t fix everything but in the moment it was about all you had to offer.
“Alright,” you finally spoke up again when the soup was done, “I’m gonna go get her.” You pointed at him. “Best behavior.”
He smiled, clasping his hands on top of the table. “Always.”
You rolled your eyes with a laugh as you walked by. “Fuck off.”
He listened as you walked out of the kitchen and into some distant part of the house that he’d never seen, probably never would. He strained his ear to see if he could catch any snippets of conversation, but came up with nothing. He glanced around the kitchen, looking at the art that was up on the far wall, away from the stove and the sink and any potential messes. The pieces weren’t framed, just tacked up to the wall. He knew you weren’t much into art, at least no into making it. He wondered if the paintings had been done by your grandmother. He was sure at some point or another you’d told him the name of the art style. Another on the long list of things that he should’ve paid more attention to while he had you.
It wasn’t long until the two of you came walking into the kitchen. Walt’s entire expression softened at the sight of the two of you. Your grandmother was still able to walk with relative ease as long as she had your arm to hold onto. She was small, hardly even coming up to your shoulder, and looked even smaller because of the large sweater that she was wearing.
Her expression didn’t match Walt’s as she looked at him skeptically. You chuckled and shook your head. You rested your hand on hers as you facilitated the introduction. “Obaachan, this is Walt. We used to work together.”
He gave a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”
She nodded slightly as she looked him over. You watched as she studied his face, knowing exactly what she was going to say before she said it. “You like this?” she asked him, touching the side of her own face.
Walt tilted his head as he processed what she was saying. You couldn’t help your laughter as you answered on his behalf. “I told you, some guys just like their facial hair.”
He laughed then, a real laugh for once. He shrugged as he nodded in agreement with your statement. “Just easier to let it grow.”
She shook her head slightly as she continued on towards the counter where the food was. “You could be so handsome if—”
“Obaachan,” you chastised with a laugh. Shaking your head, you asked her, “You wanna eat out here with us? Or in your room?”
She gestured to herself. “My room.”
You smiled, figuring that was going to be the answer. “You got it. C’mon.”
You helped her get her meal together, carrying it for her as you started the return trip to her room. As the two of you were walking past Walt, you thought that she might offer him some sort of a goodbye, perhaps more unsolicited commentary about his stubble. Instead, she took one of the dumplings on her plate and set it on the paper towel that was still in front of him.
“Eat—you need it.”
You tried to contain your laughter and failed, the sound coming out more like a sputter than anything. It got a smile out of Walt too as he nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
You nodded back towards everything. “Help yourself—I’ll be right back.”
You were still smiling and shaking your head over the entire thing when you walked back into the kitchen. Walt was just setting your plate and his on the table when you walked in, so you made yourself busy grabbing a drink for each of you. You never kept much alcohol in the house, so he was just going to have to make due with water for the time being. He probably needed that too.
“So,” he said as you both sat down, “she doesn’t like facial hair, huh?”
You burst out laughing. Shaking your head, you said, “What would give you that impression?” You reined in your laughter enough to say, “She never has. When my cousins started growing theirs out she would tell them all the time to shave it. Relentless.”
“Least it’s with everyone,” he said, almost like an offer.
You nodded. “That’s true.”
“It’s good that she has you.” He made it sound like he was admitting something, like up until now he was still on the fence about the legitimacy of you leaving. Maybe he really had to see it with his own two eyes.
“Took her awhile to admit that,” you said, remembering what a fight it was at first, with her, with Walt, with damn near everyone. “But she’s come around. All goes full-circle, you know? She used to be the one feeding me all the time.” You chuckled a you thought about it. “We’d be running around her house and she would reach out, stop us, cup our face and just put food in our mouths with her chopsticks. Didn’t matter what it was—rice, gyoza, tempura. If she could pick it up with chopsticks we were getting fed on the go.”
“At least you don’t have to chase her down and do that,” he said with a shake of his head.
“This is true. I’m much faster than her.” You were about to start eating when you realized that Walt hadn’t grabbed silverware. You hummed in amusement. “I’ll get you a fork for the rice and everything.”
“Not gonna make me struggle with your chopsticks?” he joked.
You grabbed a fork from the drawer and tossed it to him. “We’re both struggling enough. Eat your food before my grandmother comes out and force-feeds you the way she used to do with us.”
Neither of you said anything for a few minutes as you started to eat. Maybe Walt had more to say before all of that, things he wanted to ask, arguments he wanted to get into. Maybe you’d get into it all when you were done eating. Or, maybe, he’d let the rest of it lie—it wasn’t as though there was much you could do for each other at this point anyway, aside from sharing a meal together, the cats just beginning to creep their way into the kitchen.
It was a lot, what I asked. Nothing I haven't done before. What bothers me is that you had to do it. Hmm? That this is what it takes for them to see you.
SE LA ARRANCA A MORDIDAS | mystery of Amado's anonymous lady-hustlers, solved
⁂
Holy father who art in heaven, do I have some fucking cracked ass head-canon nonsense for us to👏🏽 day👏🏽 …………….. let’s get to it shall we??
so idk if anyone anyone being the largely nonexistent narcos fandom aka the void Im speaking into remembers that one scene from Narcos in S3 where sleazy!OG!Amado told that one story about those sex workers who robbed him blind, mid-mamadita?
anyone ..... no?
dwdwdw that's okay bc I brought some visual aids to assist in our collective remembrance of this glorious occasion
⁂
The scene starts like this: 👇
Okay, yeah, right? legendary? legendary. just truly legendary behavior skfjskj on all fronts. but the identities of these social justice warriors— no wait activists— no wait, crusad— er no, patriarchy demolishers? iconic crimies with a penchant for for mid-fellatic felonies like armed robbery have been completely anonymous thus far.
…………… until now.
Bc as always, Narcoverse papis Doug Miro, Andrés Baiz, and Carlo Bernard, never fail to fill in the blanks except when they do cause Griselda left a lot to be desired and this is arguably the best ep of the show which, yeah. it’s never ideal when the best ep of a 6ep limited series is the 2nd one si me entiendes😬😬😬 but we digress because im 99.99999999999999% sure if these two sex workers from Griselda aren’t also the two legends who hustled Amado’s dick money out his pants pockets without having to fire so much as a single shot, I’m fairly certain they’re at least inspired by and carrying the torch aka bottling and distilling that Big Dick Energy to perfection of those brave women.
What gave me this idea? So glad you asked dear reader you didn’t but we’ll just pretend you did cause this my haus KEKW…. No like even I rolled my eyes at my own self for that but i couldn’t refrain either.
It all happened when I was nursing my new obsession with a one, Mr. Darío Sepúlveda a name I would most certainly believe to be fucking fake were he not an irl human bean.
👇👇 THIS slice of sweet, cherry pie right tf here
And I stumbled upon this one specific part, where the look on this chick’s face is SO FUCKINGKDHDHDGWVE SIMILAR to Amado’s face, when he’s explaining 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇how the burgling commences when the gurgling is interrupted by with an uncomfortable silence, as this chick proceeds to, hog still in mouth, cease any and all throat activity and fuckingskdfjskl just stare. up. at. him.
all 🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️
Like tell me homegirl’s face here👇👇 👇👇 doesn’t look just like it????????????
YOU CANTSJSHSJSHWUS YOU cANT. EVIDENCE IS IRREFUTABLE.
Anyway. Movingright along.
So, if aforementioned homegirl is the 🙇🏻♀️ from la historia del grande señor de los cielos, then that makes this ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️ ... homegirl’s accomplice
with the👇👇sidearm
and like the general only slightly subtle "I eat dicks like urs for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack" vibes that this duo is serving throughout but esp below bc never will I ever not refer to a fuckboy as mancito from now until I'm in my grave alsdkjfa like MANCITO. THE WAY SHE SAYS IT WITH SUCH ALSKDJFKS CONTEMPT, CAN YOU STAND IT????? makes it so clear in my mind's eye how they could 100000000000%% be the unnamed heroes thieves from Amado's little story
also full 180 just on the low but can we all moment of silence for this 👇👇 FUCKINGSDLDFJ LOOK ON DARIO'S FACE WHEN SHE CORRECTS HIM, "quien te dijo eso? ... un mancito?" LIKE HE FUCKIGNSLDFKJSLKJ KNOWS, HE KNOWS HE HAS ERRED ON THIS PATH, HE KNOWS HE CANNOT PASS GO, CANNOT COLLECT 200 DOLLARS AND HE HAS THE GOOD SENSE TO BE GRACIOUS ABOUT IT AND IMAS;DFLIJA;LWEJF;KAJWE;FAKJ; SFUCKINGS DFKLJSLDF JA;K CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP, INCONSOLABLE. LIKE LOOK. AT THIS. OKAY, THAT A MAN, NO MANCITO
*smacks own face, jiggles head back and forth, takes deep breath* anyway.... back to the story
and this is where this prob super unhinged really solidifies bc let's join hands class and pledge alliegance to the most impressive and noteworthy alpha but in the most non-cringe way assertion of dominance I have ever fucking witnessed in all my days. Like, legit the next time i'm into a dude the way i say this like it's not an 'if' bc RIP to my love life lbr fuck all that playing coy, fuck all that flirting. We just gonna get right to the point bc imma climb all over his lap, purr in his face, and ask about his hobbies like it's the 1978 equivalent of a Hinge profile SKSKKSK
and the next time I am spurned I will absolutely grab his junk in a naked hahahaksdjfk grab for a proper leash power to gain the upper hand in the situation and shame any and all menfolk who claim to not like me bc I'm not their 'type.' which like sksjsjsjs admittedly poor Dario just said that as a pretense to get the chisme from the chick who hates Grislenda bc the look of unconcealed regret on his face when Mistress Mamma Crotch Snatcher Morton gets up seems like a good indicator he would've paid to play with his balls
BUT LIKE SIDE BY SIDE WITH AMADO GETTING TO THE metaphorical CLIMAX bc I sincerely doubt they let him bust, mid-robbery OF HIS STORY, CAN WE NOT SEE HOW CLEARLY THESE TWO WOMEN WERE THE ONES WHO JACKED AMADO OFF– NO WAIT THEY DECIDEDLY DID NOT DO THAT ALL OF AMADO’S SHIT, LIKE CAUGHT PAPI WITH HIS ACTUAL PANTS DOWN SKSJSB
and lest any of us were convinced that Lady "Hijueputa Mandona Esa" who hates Griselda wasn't the one holding the gun on Toque, telling Amado she's gonna have her friend chew clear through his disco stick like some froot by the foot, please refer to exhibit B here ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️where she's manspreading for jesus in these fucking hot pants. I mean try to tell me that ain't power. c'mon
AND THEN THE WAY SHE FUCKINGSLDFKJSL HUSTLES DARIO FOR EXTRA CASH, ALL "you gotta pay me more than that pittance bc yeah, she were a mouthy bitch but I didn't hate her that bad" ensuring he had no choice but to leave a tip, just like our pobre mujeriego, himbo extraordinaire, Sleazy!OG!Amado
And if this isn't the most iconic reminder to tip your servers, folks which everyone should be doing already I truly don't know what is.
narcoctober prompt: Create a review, response, or analysis of a Narcos or Narcos Mexico fic, in the style of an Amazon review or a NYT book review or something like that. Please keep it constructive and positive, no roasts.
it's me! i'm the scientist
initially tried to write this in the style of npr book reviews but idk i don't think i succeeded. o well! anyway here's wonderwall
she's got the range: a fellow writer learns from the narcoctober works of @drabbles-mc
Trying to define the drabbles-mc style is like trying to grab falling water. Looking at the #narcoctober fics she’s produced so far, there are some elements that occur in a majority of the works, but none that occur in all of them. For instance, nine out of the fics are focused on cop characters, but the other three don’t include cops at all. Her well-honed dialogue skills often comprise the backbone of her fic—her lived-in and charming banter between partners is a real draw for readers—but in her Carrillo AU Four People You Meet and Martinez AU Behind The Curve, dialogue is relatively brief and not the most important element. Not all the fics are romantic; nor do they all include reader or original characters; nor do they all hew to canon; nor do they all align with the same worldview or interpretation of canon.
This diversity of point of view is ultimately her superpower; in tumblr parlance, she has the range. From a fanwriter’s perspective, this offers some insight to her prolific output. She is able to remain curious and engaged in the same fandom over dozens of fics precisely because she doesn’t write the same thing over and over. For Steve alone, in this challenge, she’s written a dark canon-compliant morality and character study focused on his police work (Tainted), but also sweet relationship-focused fics in which police work is relegated to the background and the plot of canon barely appears at all (Moving Day, Down in the 305).
This approach is especially aspirational when one considers just how dedicated she is to following her omnivorous muse. Tons of her fics are huge crowd pleasers in the classic fanfic sense, of course—who could forget the romcom-esque fake dating fic Just One Week or the deliciously angsty conversations of her many exes fics? But many of of her fics are more niche in one way or another. Sometimes it’s because she focuses on less popular characters (shoutout to my fellow Trujillo readers, shoutout to Search Bloc OMC Diego, who was so hot that he spawned an entire universe of readerfics in which he stars). Sometimes it’s because she engages creatively with thorny and dark issues, provoking more questions than answers (shoutout Twenty-Four Hours, which uses the visceral closeness of second person to literally interrogate the reader and metaphorically interrogate Carrillo’s morality). The great thing about Tay is that she writes everything, regardless of genre or POV, with the same level of joyful dedication.
From a reader’s perspective, this makes her masterlist like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates: you never know what you’re gonna get, in the best possible way. Her body of work cuts through fanfic dichotomies (classic vs subversive, opinionated vs detached, reader insert vs impersonal) like a hot knife through butter. “Why not both?” it seems to be saying. “Both, and then some!”
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Tl;dr: I wanna be Tay when I grow up asdf;lkasdjfjkasdfj and also I think Twenty-Four Hours was my favorite of the batch because there’s something wrong with me. I will not be taking further questions at this time
