mexican gangsters

“ The “Hunters” appear as a ugly mash of different culture’s and time period’s bad guys including, but not limited to: Dark knights, Mexican banditos, Gangsters of the 40s, thieves, Wild west outlaws, Pirates, etc. And with all the different species, it only makes them even more dangerous.”

-Submitted by Anonymous

Mexican Gangster

Originally posted by justbandtrash182

Prompt: Imagine accidentally meeting Vic Fuentes, a low-scale, San Diego gangster, when things go wrong with your ex-boyfriend

FLUFF AND A FUCK TON OF SWEARING


“Chad, for the last time, I hate you so stop calling me or I’ll ruin your goddamn life,” I snapped into the phone while walking down the empty street.

“Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?” My ex-boyfriend sneered.

I scoffed, “Remember all those pics of your needle dick you sent me? I will print out copies and tape them all over school if you ever talk to me again, are we clear?”

He stuttered, clearly baffled, “Wha… how will-”

“Figure it out, Chad. Because starting now, I never want to see your fucking face ever again.” I promptly hung up on him, closed my eyes, and rubbed my temples. Why can’t I ever find any nice guys? Ones that don’t cheat on your with your best friend. Speaking of that, I also need better friends.

All of a sudden I realized just where I was. I don’t remember how long I had been shouting into my phone at Chad, but I had somehow ended up in the bad side of town, and I was completely alone.

“Oh, shit…” Just what I needed, really.

Whatever, I’ll just keep my head down and walk fast back to my apartment on the other side of San Diego, hopefully I won’t run into trouble. Plus, getting mugged on the day I found out that the boy I loved for two years was cheating on me would really just be the cherry on the sundae of my life.

Turns out I didn’t even make it two blocks before the universe decided to shit on me once again.

Turning the corner of a closed up drug store, I saw a crowd of obvious asshats. There were five of them and they were surrounding a little boy who didn’t look older than twelve, at least.

“C’mon, Preciado, just give us your shit and Tommy won’t have to bust open your scull,” one of them said, menacing nodding to a burly looking man behind the kid.

The boy was obviously terrified, but he held the first gangster at eye level and didn’t shrink away. “I already told you shitheads, I gave the money to my brother, I don’t have it. If you want it so badly why don’t you take it up with him?”

“Yeah, right. Nobody messes with your brother, brat, but your ass is free game,” the leader ended with a snicker and the others around him laughed.

I peaked out from the corner, weighing my options. Don’t help him, don’t help him, just look down and get back home, and go change your fucking status or something, just don’t be a hero, Y/N…

Yeah, I was marching over to the crowd before I knew it.

“Hey, assholes! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size!” And in that moment, I knew I was fucked.

The leader spun around, nasty yellow teeth bared, “What the fuck did you just say to me, you preppy bitch?” He growled, looking away from the kid to size me up.

“Is your head so far up your own ass that you can’t hear me? I said leave the kid alone, shithead.” I could almost hear the sound of my own grave being dug, yet for some reason the insults kept on coming.

His eyes narrowed, “Shut your fucking mouth, slut.”

“Shut my fucking mouth? Why? Don’t like hearing just how goddamn ugly you are?” There it is again. Shovel, shovel, shovel.

“Say that again and I’ll kill you.” He threatened, his hand curling into a fist.

I flaunted a shit-eating grin, “Buddy, your face looks like it was on fire and someone put it out with a brick.” One of his goons snickered behind him, and the leader shot him a dangerous look and he shut up real fast.

“You cunts, can’t mind your own fucking business, can you?” the leader said, and for some odd reason I could feel that his voice, his face and yellow teeth were somehow familiar.

“Oh, no, It actually is my business. You see, I’m a commercial saleswoman and you’re a walking advertisement for the benefits of birth control, so I may be on to something here.” His face flushed red with anger and shoved me back, spitting in my face and back to his other gangsters.

“You bitch… Luke, get the brat’s shit, and I’ll take this slut.”

One of his cronies grabbed the kid’s backpack and ripped it off his shoulders. The kid shouted protests and tried to get it back, but the gangster pulled back his fist and punched him square in the cheek, knocking him to the ground. I shifted worriedly over to look at the kid before turning back to the leader.

“Little skank, what’s your fucking deal, I’ve never even seen you near this kid, why the fuck do you care?”

“You see, I’m not a horrible person like you. Maybe being as inbred as a sandwich tweaked your sense of morality but I’m not one to judge.”

The other gangsters hollered with laughter while the one called Luke untied the straps on the kid’s backpack and started shaking all it’s contents onto the ground. Binders and notebooks fell out, but nothing that would be of interest to a gang.

The leader pushed me back roughly, marching over and grabbing the kid’s t-shirt, pulling him up. “What the fuck, kid? Where’s the fucking money? You don’t mess with me, I’ll pull out your goddamn teeth if I have to!” 

Abruptly, all the pieces fell into place.

“Antonio Wilder.” I grinned, and the leader’s menacing smile dissipated. He let go of the kid’s shirt, and he fell to the ground. All heads were facing me, and the leader approached.

“How the fuck do you know my name?” Antonio snarled, his face so close to me that I could smell his putrid breath.

I rested my hand on my hip, “My name is Y/N L/N. My dad is chief of police. I remember him taking you into holding for possession of illegal drugs smuggled into America,” his tough exterior was beginning to crumble, “I remember my dad ranting about how your buddies paid bail. I wonder if they’d be able to do that again if I told my dad about what you’ve been doing in your spare time.”

Antonio’s face turned white, and his cronies tossed around unsettled murmurs. Soon, he reluctantly broke eye contact with me. “Alright, you whore. We’re goin’ now but you’re gonna pay for this later, you hear me?”

“Crystal clear, you failed fucking abortion. Now run along. I’ve got my dad on speed dial.” Antonio, thank god, didn’t say anything else. And slunk away back down the street with his tail between his legs.

I looked down at the kid, who was peering up at me with wide, awe-struck eyes. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. But how the hell did you do that? Talk to Antonio that way, that was amazing!” He asked me like he was speaking to some kind of goddess.

“I’ve got a bad habit of not insulting people. Thank god it actually worked out this time,” I said coyly, before stooping down to help the kid collect his school stuff. “What’s your name, kid? And why were those dildos after you?”

The kid was about to speak, when a voice from up the street interrupted him. 

“Hey, Chris!” A dark haired guy shouted, running up to the boy who I now knew as Chris, and leaning down to inspect the bruise forming on his cheek. Looking back towards the sidewalk, three other guys were with the first one, and they all looked suspiciously like another gang. At this rate these gangs keep showing up, I’ll never get home.

“What the hell happened, man? I thought you were at home?” He must’ve been the brother Antonio was referring to.

Chris sighed, “Just Antonio’s group. It’s fine, though. They didn’t take anything.”

His brother groaned, “Buddy, I don’t care about that. Where are you hurt?”

“Just here,” Chris tapped his cheek before turning and pointing to me, “she came before they could do any worse.”

His brother glanced up, and I finally got a good look at him. He had tanned skin, with dark brown hair and eyes, and wore a too-big Sex Pistols shirt and dark jeans. “You saved my brother?” He asked with raised eyebrows. His three other companions caught up to him, and all shared the same look of disbelief.

“I was walking home and saw that dick hurting a kid. It’s not that hard to believe.” I said modestly. But Chris had none of that.

“You should’ve seen it! She looked him right in the eyes and called him a failed fucking abortion and he jack ran with his tail between his legs! It was awesome.”

His brother’s friend, a guy with chocolate brown eyes and long dark hair sniggered, “I mean she’s not wrong…”

“How the fuck did you manage that?” Chris’ brother asked, surprise layering his voice.

I scratched the back of my head, “My dad is Officer L/N. All I had to do was threaten to call him up and he took off. It’s not that big a’ deal.”

His brother gave me a huge, lopsided grin, “Not that big a’ deal? Dude, that’s amazing!” I wasn’t expecting the friendly response but went along with it. “My name’s Jaime. And… Wow, thanks for helping out my brother.”

Smiling, I realized that these people probably weren’t as bad as Antonio and his crew. “I’m Y/N. And… you are?” I gestured to the three people who hadn’t introduced themselves yet.

“I’m Tony. That’s Vic and Mike. But seriously, that’s for saving’s Chris’ ass.” Tony, the one with the stretched ears, said with an appreciative nod.

Vic grinned, “So aside from ‘a failed fucking abortion’, what else did you call him?”

I looked at the ground, smiling a bit, “I think I called him an inbred sandwich.” They all whooped with laughter and I think Tony even applauded for a bit. Jaime threw an arm around my shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. Anybody ever messes with you, just hit us up. Nobody’s gonna mess with you now.”

Wait, did I just accidentally join a Mexican gang?

“Thanks, Jaime,” I looked down at my phone’s clock. 6:40, “oh shit, I gotta get back home. I’ll see you guys around, alright?”

Mike’s eyes widened, “Wait, you’re not with anybody?”

I shook my head, “No, I just ended up at this side by accident. I think I’ve got a long walk before I get to my house.”

Vic piped up, “Hey, I can walk you home if you like. Nighttime around here isn’t exactly the safest place in the world.”

“No, no, no, it’s fine,” I tried, but eventually got overruled.

“Really, Y/N, think of it as a thank you for helping out our little bro, okay?” He insisted, and I felt my resolve crumbling. I mean, I had never spent a night out in the bad part of the city, and had no idea what I was walking into. Plus, getting mugged in the dark didn’t sound too preferable.

Even though I felt like this was another trick by the universe to ruin my day, I still accepted his offer. After waving goodbye to Chris and the guys, I started walking to my house, with Vic at my side.


“So how the hell did you end up here in the first place?” Vic asked, looking at me curiously.

I contemplated telling Vic and figured there wasn’t anything against it. “My boyfriend, Chad… I found out that he’d been cheating on me with my best friend.”

Vic let out a low whistle, “Damn, what an asshole.”

“Yeah. I called him when I was walking home to sort things out and I guess I just forgot where I was walking.” I mumbled that last bit, my anger and sadness over Chad creeping back into my subconscious.

He gave me a sympathetic smile, “Don’t think about this guy, he’s clearly an asshole and you deserve better.”

“Thanks, Vic…” I looked back at him, at his smile, and I felt my heart flutter just a bit. Sadly, before I could think about what I was feeling, we finally walked in front of my house.

“So, I’ll see you later then?” I was a bit saddened by Vic leaving, but I was exhausted and ready for the night to end.

His smile fell and his eyes moved from me to the pavement behind me. “I’ll see you…who the hell is that?”

Confused, I turned around, only for my stomach to drop sharply. There, angrily marching towards me, was Chad, his face bright red and his muscles tensed to the point of snapping.

“You… You bitch!” He shouted, jabbing a finger into my chest.

“Chad, what the hell are you doing!? I told you to leave me alone!” But he was having none of it.

He pointed at Vic, who’s facial expressions would indicate that he was beginning to understand the situation, “So, who’s this fucker? Huh, been sleeping with him now, you little whore?”

Vic grit his teeth, “Says the guy that screwed her best friend!”

Chad whirled around at him, looking like a spitting husk of anger. “What did you say to me?”

“You heard me. You sleep with her friend behind her back and she walks with a guy after leaving you for being a shithead, and that makes her a whore?” Vic shoved him back and a dangerous glint sharpened in his eyes. While they were shouting, I noticed something very prominent. Chad was on the football team, and I’ve seen him beat on thinner and smaller people. But Vic? Vic is in a fucking gang, and I would place my bets on Vic snapping Chad like a twig.

“Stop! Stop it!” Vic paused, looking down at me confused.

Chad smirked, walking away from Vic and over to me. “So, Y/N, you finally realized that I’m-“

“-Let’s get one thing straight, Chad,” I spit out his name angrily, and my ex’s face fell, “I hope that you and Vivian are happy, because we are no longer a thing. Now, you can either get lost and never talk to me again, or I will ruin your goddamn life, and I think you know exactly how I can do that.” I threatened. And, from the phone call we shared earlier, he knew that I meant business.

Chad’s face hardened, and he ran, spitting curses and insults at Vic and I until he got into his dad’s car and drove away.

“Jesus, what did you ever see in that guy?” Vic asked.

I scoffed, “I have no idea. That guy was always a huge dick, despite having quite the opposite.”

Vic bent over laughing, “Wha.. Wow… His dick was really that small?” He said in between bouts of laughter. And for some reason, seeing his bright smile and laughter brought a small grin to my face.

“Oh yeah. You know that kind of Pez candy? Think that, but smaller.” Soon we were both whooping with laughter like we were a drunk pair.

“Ah… Ahha… Y/N, this was amazing…” Vic said before having to stop and catching his breath from laughing so hard.

I smiled, “We have got to do this again.”

He nudged me as we walked up to the steps of the door, “Dick jokes over coffee? Sounds like the best date I could ever ask for.”

I felt my face heat up, “Wait a minute, is this you asking me out?”

“Uh,” He paused, nervously scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Well… I mean, you’re a better catch than Chad ever was,” He giggled at that comment.

Shrugging I nodded, “Sure! Why not, right? It would be the perfect middle finger for my ex.”


Well, I got absolutely no sleep for this. I hope y’all enjoy it!

I might write either a Gerard imagine or a Frank imagine, depending on what I feel like. Although, I woul really like to write a punk!highschool!Andy Biersack fic

2

I give you…Cholo Lance

A cholo, for a lack of a better explanation is kind of like a, well in my case, Mexican gangster, to dress and act like a cholo was a cool thing, the people who did it thought they were so cool.

So I made a crack au about it,

And where you have cholo Lance you have studious nerd Keith 😃 so I guess this is also kind of another ah thing

I might clean this up and color it but that dependS on whether it gets any attention or not idk

Translation: hey pretty boy, how about I show you what a man is like

^he says this cus Keith has an anatomy book lol

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Worst Films, 2016 (commentary)

01. The Neon Demon - A profoundly stupid commentary on female friendship as “demonic” and “ruthless,” perpetuating the tired narrative that women are “othered” and “unknowable.” Comes to the offensive, simplistic conclusion that women cannot excel in their careers without “losing themselves” in the process. Confuses vague symbolism with depth. A better recommendation: compare the wholesome depiction of female companionship in the effortless, uplifting ending of Paul Verhoeven’s Elle.

02. Captain Fantastic - A film intensely uncritical of its protagonist’s inherent privilege and manipulation of his children. Smug and condescending, where the family “cut off” from everyday civilization to go live in the woods without modern comforts looks down upon everyone else as a joke, as though they (and they alone) have found the “true meaning” of life. No acknowledgement that their ability to up and leave to go live in the woods is a privileged ability because they have the safety nets of family/friends to return to, which is a far reality from the many underprivileged poor who view this kind of backwoods lifestyle as a burden rather than an escape. The father is also an authoritative figure rather than a hippie, free-thinking one, where his kids are completely cut off from the diversity of perspectives and opinions outside their sheltered bubble, despite their claims otherwise. This is a film paranoid about popular culture and condescending towards “everyday” people. Tries to make cute and quaint what is essentially a “Jesus Camp”-esque group. A better recommendation: Wendy and Lucy, Hunt for the Wilderpeople.

03. Suicide Squad - A ridiculous, grimly serious storyline. Jared Leto commits way too hard on an unimportant character who’s nothing more than the kind of greasy, unlikeable gangster types that David Ayer has depicted throughout his career (with little variation or nuance). Viola Davis in comparison never smugly made claims to “serious” method acting yet elevated whatever scene she was in with effortless acting chops. Still, nothing saves the movie. Not the assault of popular music in every single scene as a futile attempt to emulate Guardians of the Galaxy (they used cliched, recognizable music too. See: “Fortunate Son” with a shot of helicopters. Compare to the richer song selection in Guardians with tracks by Raspberries, 10cc, Redbone, and Marvin Gaye). Not the “wacky” comedy that often defers to weird, racist stereotyping (Killer Croc requesting “BET,” Diablo as a tattooed Mexican gangster like an extra from End of Watch). Bizarre plotting with a boring villain. A better recommendation: The action is better in the Captain America movies, and it’s good humored too.

04. Hell or High Water - Taylor Sheridan is a shit writer who has been riding on the pretense of antiheroes with “moral ambiguity” even though his conflicts of good and evil are pretty cut and dry (are they really antiheroes, then?). Lazily uses people of color as merely suffering/dying props to motivate his heroic white narratives (see also: his terrible screenplay for Sicario, which gives a safe and reductive and misleading picture of narco trafficking as a “thriller” where dead bodies are a source of spectacle rather than a real human tragedy). A better recommendation: the more honestly exploitative/campy Nocturnal Animals, Killer Joe, and Cold in July. The towering Blood Simple.

05. Hacksaw Ridge - The hack Mel Gibson continues pushing religious conservatism disguised as thrilling action, where complex themes such as Catholic redemptive suffering and guilt are rendered onscreen as pointlessly bloody violence bordering on “torture porn” like Hostel or Saw or (lmao) The Passion of the Christ. Compare to Martin Scorsese’s Silence, which uses violence sparingly but far more effectively: where Catholic suffering is a theme that raises more questions than answers and leaves the faith shook by the end of it. A better recommendation: You want a war movie that better (and poetically) reflects Christian theology and suffering? The Thin Red Line. Also, the aforementioned Silence (both the Scorsese and Shinoda adaptations).

06. Deadpool - “This Ain’t Your Mom’s Monologue.” A better recommendation: the funnier, fourth-wall breaking Funny Games.

07. Green Room - Confuses violence and gore for tension. Flimsy villain with no nuanced backstory/motivations other than “neo-Nazi.” Compare to 10 Cloverfield Lane’s antagonist, and how it draws tension through playful dialogue and maximal use of space (every single room utilized, even the spaces in the walls) instead of graphic violence. A step down from the superior Blue Ruin. A better recommendation: 10 Cloverfield Lane, Blue Ruin, (hell, even Don’t Breathe made better use of space and camerawork).

08. Assassin’s Creed - Only reveals to us that most videogame stories are incomprehensible trash with convoluted mythologies and poorly written characters. The problem isn’t that the interactivity of videogames can’t be translated to a passive medium, but that videogame stories are just bad to begin with. A better recommendation: Go play a good videogame story like Silent Hill 2, or Kentucky Route Zero, or The Last Guardian.

09. Swiss Army Man - So-called “serious” storytelling (read: we used a metaphor) undercut by juvenile humor and sappy sentimentalism. Didn’t find the right balance in tone. A better recommendation: the more absurdist and funnier humor of The Lobster or Force Majeure.

10. Krisha - Wants to provoke as a searing melodrama, but is really just a compilation of shouting matches that purports to be D R A M A. It’s pointlessly exploitative and the characters aren’t given enough personality or story to support their freakouts. A better recommendation: the still exploitative but more enjoyable films of Xavier Dolan, like Mommy.