I'm so excited to show off for this beautiful piece because This was inspired by a certain artist that I look up to & my Love for Encanto, my oc & Bruno, of course.
**Sonia watches the lights & fireworks go out as She walked up the street, happily holding hand in hand with Bruno.
<She wanted to go to the festival that night. However, her mother thought it was a bad & dangerous idea. Luckily, her Papa was able to convince his wife to have the idea for his daughter to have an escort. Sonia was ecstatic to have her papa on her side. So, She got to her room to get ready especially for tonight. She wasn't very feminine like the other girls in the village but tonight was going to be special & fun. After hours of getting dolled up, Sonia came down to her escort, surprisingly to see Bruno wearing his rare occasional ruana, tho He hated crowds, he wanted be with her for a night. Bruno viewed her in awe as She though he was quite hansome as well. Soon after going over the rules with her parents & getting a quick but slow picture for memories, Sonia & Bruno headed off to the festival.>
**Sonia softly grasped Bruno's hand to get his attention, giving him a contented smile as he smiled shyly back as Bruno interlaced his fingers with hers. **
Sonia: "I know you dislike crowds, Brunito,but I am grateful that you volunteered to be my escort. Papa would only choose you to keep an eye on me. I know the both of us will have a unforgettable night to remember."
Bruno: "It will be for sure. You make it tolerable to be around people, Soli. It's better than staying in Casita by myself....thank you for being my best frend."
Sonia: *playfully pulls him in closer* thank you for being mine-I mean my best friend too, Nothing will ever come between us."
*Both of them quickly glanced each other with light signs of blush, reverting back to watching the lanterns & the fireworks*
I really want to take a second and give a shout-out to @papermachette @my-gunpowder and @silvercdeer
I was very shy when approaching Papers to ask if I could write a one shot with Chepe and Briana. I don’t normally do that with users I’ve never interacted with, but what they created in their own little AU was so fascinating I wanted to explore it with my writing too. She was so sweet and open to talk about stories and characters and made me feel so welcome when being brought in to collaborate with everyone else as well 🥺
We started talking more altogether, and it’s been an absolute joy being part of the Lethal Amigos AU. They’ve really boosted my confidence to advertise The Precipice more outside of my little circle too and their support gained me new readers who bring me joy when they comment on my work 🥺❤️
Chepe and Estevan - Original Characters by @papermachette ( @lethalamigos )
“Here.” Estevan handed Chepe the heavy brown bag. “That’s $300 mil pesos worth of cocaine. You sell it for double that or don’t even think about working for anyone in this town.”
Chepe raised an eyebrow at the man and placed the bag on the table beside him. Estevan was a cocky hijueputa who acted as if he were more important than he was, as if he were a leader in the Santos del Norte gang; but Chepe was running out of money fast and his lifelong skills as a farmer were not in high demand in the city. Estevan had found Chepe, half drunk, in his new local bar, and after some aggressive back and forth, they soon both realised that it could be a beneficial relationship for both of them.
“And hey, since you’re the new guy, and I got a good feeling about you, this is on the house,” Estevan reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small clear baggie stuffed with white powder. “It’s my own special blend - this sells for top price on the streets, but I’m feeling generous. Enjoy.”
He tossed the drugs at Chepe, who raised his fist and caught the bag in midair, not even pausing a beat before tossing it straight back.
“I don’t need your drugs. I’m here to make money and stay out of fucking trouble. I’ll make you triple back on these,” he gestured at the bag on the table, “so I don’t need your charity.”
Estevan frowned and caught the bag, and began passing it from hand to hand as a slow smile crept onto his face. He sat the small baggie down beside the cocaine Chepe was to sell to whoever was willing to buy - the lowlifes living on the streets dying for a fix, the businessman needing a hit to get through his lunchtime meeting, the society woman who did lines in the bathroom as she powdered her nose. “Heh. You really are a little chihuahua, aren’t you? You better not bite the hand that feeds you, perro.”
Chepe growled at the man before him. “Don’t fucking call me that. Only one person ever called me that, and he’s… not in my fucking life anymore.” He took a step toward Estevan, who held his hands up in front of him in mock surrender.
“Ay, ay, Chihuahua. How about Chi? You might want to take something to help you relax, parcero. You don’t want to mess with the wrong people out here. You’re not in your little village any more… what was it again, Enchinto?”
Chepe gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists to stop himself punching the smug look off of the man in front of him. He breathed deeply in and out through his teeth, clenching his jaw to stop himself retaliating or saying a word.
“Fine. No doubt I’ll find out all about you soon enough, Chi Chi.” Chepe’s eyes blazed with the ridiculous nickname. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other if you want to make it in this town. You might want to stay on my good side, amigo.” He cocked his head to the side with a short, sarcastic snigger; enjoying the rage he was causing in Chepe, but careful not to push the man too far. He’d heard the rumours - Chepe was from the town people had spoken of for years, but no one was quite sure they believed in. The town where magic could get you anything you wanted. And Estevan wanted everything.
“Remember - I want at least double those prices back. You have until the end of the week.” The Santos del Norte gangster reached out and snagged an almost-full bottle of whisky sitting on the counter beside Chepe. “Perfect, I could do with a drink. And hey, I gave you a little something-” he nodded toward the packet of white powder, “and you give me a little something. Looks like we both win, Chi Chi.”
“What the fuck-” Chepe began, but Estevan was already out the door. Chepe let himself drop down to sit on the tatty couch - the only piece of comfortable furniture in the shack he now called home. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He could kill for a whisky now, that fucking pendajo. He opened his eyes and looked at the small bag on the table. No. He’d never done drugs before and he didn’t need to now. But fuck, his head was pounding and he was all too aware of the silence filling the room. Chepe never did well on his own. His own head was a dangerous place without the distraction of alcohol swimming in his veins, or a soft, eager girl under his body or strong hands holding his hips from behind, bending him over and-
Fuck.
He gave it five more minutes, and then he snorted his first line.
Lethal Amigos created by @lethalamigos Estevan & Chepe are @papermachette’s OC
Part 3/? - also on AO3 HERE
Late Thursday night, Chepe was laying spread out of his tatty couch, eyes half closed, an almost empty bottle of tequila on the table. He wasn’t sleeping, but the banging on the door still made his heart jolt out of his chest as he jumped up, immediately grabbing his gun from the table and blinking rapidly to try clear his head from the drug come-down and the fog of tequila swirling around his mind.
“Open up, Chi Chi!” the song-song voice carried through the door to Chepe’s pounding head. Chepe rolled his eyes. Not that fucking hijueputa. He wasn’t in the mood for Estevan’s games tonight.
“What do you want, Estevan?” he growled through the door. “It’s nearly fucking midnight!”
“Just open the door, amigo,” Estevan continued, his cheery voice doing very little to hide the venom beneath it. Chepe hadn’t known the minor-league gang member long, but he already know three important facts: one, Estevan thought he was much more important and powerful than he really was. Two, despite this, he was not someone to get on the wrong side of, and was currently Chepe’s only ticket to surviving in this town. And three, he was a fucking prick.
Chepe gritted his teeth, rubbed his tired and gritty eyes with the heel of his gun-holding hand, and opened the door, positioning himself to block the entrance, not allowing the Santos del Norte member in.
“What. Do. You. Want?” Chepe repeated. He wasn’t posturing with his gun, but he wasn’t exactly hiding it either.
“Ay, ay Chi Chi,” Estevan held up his hands in mock surrender, a familiar gesture of his that Chepe already found infuriating. “Can’t a man visit his friend? Why so defensive?”
Estevan shouldered past Chepe into the room and looked around the dirty room, shaking his head. “Loving what you’re doing to the place, Chi. I hope you’ve not been bringing any girls back here. You’re giving Santos del Norte a bad name.”
Chepe watched the man. Estevan didn’t do ‘social visits’. There’d be a reason for his arrival, and Chepe fucking hated the way the other man made a song and dance out of every interaction. His patience was wearing thin, his head was pounding and he really wanted to just punch the man outcold so he could get back to his semi-slumber on the couch.
Estevan watched Chepe’s face and almost pouted with the lack of reaction he was getting. “I suppose that’s a ‘no’ to bringing girls back here? I’m surprised, amigo, I took you for a lady’s man. Or…” he smirked, stepped close to Chepe, and began to gently reach out a hand toward his face, “is it the boys that you like?”
Chepe grabbed the man’s wrist before he could touch his face. “Fuck off, hijueputa. I’ve asked you nicely and I’m not going to ask again - what the fuck do you want?”
Estevan held Chepe’s gaze and slowly licked his lips, letting his hand go limp in Chepe’s grasp. He bit his bottom lip and gently tugged his wrist out of Chepe’s grasp. Push, push, push. Estevan was still learning exactly what buttons to push for Chepe, but the farmer wasn’t particularly adept at hiding his anger and Estevan was making a mental note of every single temper flare. Chepe had information Estevan wanted; however he wasn’t a fragile, soft man. Chepe was hard, and violent, and even Estevan could admit that he would most likely be the loser in a fair physical fight. But Estevan didn’t play ‘fair’. Estevan was clever, and calculating, and manipulative, and he could break people in other ways.
“It’s Friday. Where is my money?”
That threw Chepe for a second. It must have only been a few minutes past midnight. The deal had been to give Estevan his money on Friday, yes, but a few minutes into the day?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snarled, “you said fucking Friday. I’ll sell your fucking drugs, you’ll get your money tonight.”
Estevan bit his bottom lip again in an exaggerated pouting gesture. “Now, now Chi Chi. That’s no way to speak to your boss” - Chepe simmered with anger - “but fine. You have 24 hours. In the meantime, I thought we should have a chat. Get to know each other a bit better, y’know?”
Estevan turned his back on Chepe and sauntered over to the frayed couch, settling himself down on it as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He reached for the open bottle of tequila on the table and downed the remainder of the contents.
“So… tell me more about you. Who is Chepe? Where does he come from?”
Chepe’s eyes narrowed and he ground his teeth together. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Estevan laughed. It was not a nice sound. “Oh Chi Chi. Why so shy? Let me tell you something about me, then. I know a lot of people in this city. I have a lot of friends in dangerous places. You might want to remember that when I ask you something.”
Chepe stepped closer to the couch Estevan was sitting on. He grabbed the now-empty bottle and threw it toward the gangster, deliberately just missing his head and smashing against the wall behind him.
“Get out.”
“Ay Chi, you don’t make this easy. Fine. We’ll drop it… for now. You better be at my place within 24 hours with the money, though, or you’ll be in very big trouble. Do you understand?”
Chepe was already rapidly regretting his partnership with this man. But he needed money, and selling drugs was the easy way to make it. And… he couldn’t admit it to himself, but he was starting to feel itchy, and fidgety, and his eyes darted to one of the bags of cocaine lying on a side table. Maybe it wasn’t just the cash he needed anymore.
“You’ll get your money. Now piss off.”
Estevan smiled widely and stood up, purposefully walking past the baggies sitting out on the side table and sliding his hand over them as he headed toward the door.
“And Chi Chi? Remember - don’t touch the merch. It’s weighed and counted and trust me, I’ll know.” Chepe’s eyes flared slightly at Estevan’s insinuation, but also at the fact that Chepe couldn’t deny he’d been thinking about it. What the fuck was wrong with him..?
“Do your job right amigo, and you’ll get the good stuff, don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”
Estevan didn’t miss the relief in Chepe’s eyes. The man had such a self destructive streak, such an addictive personality, that Estevan couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he left the room - maybe this would be easier than he’d even hoped.
I just Love The hardship life of @papermachette & @lethalamigos 's Chepe & José AUs!!!
I've been stayin' tune Since January and I totally got hooked!!!! I thought I can finally get to draw fanart of Chepe since I already drawn @my-gunpowder 's José couple of times. I'm glad that both of them get to have breaks to draw so we can get more comics & continue the story of these complicated & Fine men including @rinnysega 's Gus.
Yes, Roto is a very old, very chunky & fluffy gray long hair like this. Emphasis on old, fluffy and chonky
He is missing his front right paw ever since kittenhood, so Chepe named him Roto when he found him in his barn and then gifted him to Gus after his fall
Art by @lethalamigos
And yes! You absolutely may draw the Chonky Gray Boi
