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#(he's doing the english translation himself)
kittyfrisk9 · 19 hours
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
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Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.
The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.
Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.
On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!
It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.
So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.
Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.
He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.
...
Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.
He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.
His head hurts.
"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.
Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.
The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.
A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.
Then, he appears.
It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.
“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”
His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.
The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.
"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"
That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
It's not-
"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.
The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.
And new.
Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.
The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.
Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.
"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”
Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”
“You could say yes.”
“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”
He seems to have taken the being by surprise.
It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”
“Did you just make up that name?”
The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."
That last sentence had given away more than it should have.
"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.
Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."
He needed a break.
...
And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.
After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.
But that's another story.
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Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
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inzuinzudesu · 2 days
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Post-war AU! (Yes, I'm trying to do more steamy drawings, more is coming) I imagine Obito to have mellowed out quite a bit after the war, with him atoning for his sins and everything?? He would be easier to bully at the very least haha Personally, I think Kakashi'd be the more proactive one of the two, since Obito'd be feeling guilty and wouldn't want happiness for himself? Then Kakashi has to try to get him to care more about his own live?? Obito'd be living on a cliff all alone, with Kakashi coming to visit every so often in between Hokage duties?? He's trying to migrate into society slowly but surely, helping out all the grandpas and grandmas out there. I wanted to draw him in white - just a blank slate, ready to be made anew, despite all the pain and suffering. Well actually he just looks really good in white, with that white hair?? Very elegant. I can't find much of this AU on ao3? There are quite a lot on pixiv though! https://www.pixiv.net/novel/show.php?id=9410739 This the first part of a whole series! It's finished too! I can only read a bit of japanese, so I mainly just used google translate haha! Really recommend it, if you can read japanese, or if you can bear the pain of reading some very broken english 😅 This author explored the AU in a very cute way that I love??? Overall it's just silly shenanigans with potent sexual tension disguised as friendship. Biggest plot point is that there's a rumor going around that Kakashi is gay, but he tries to deny it, thinking Obito would be weirded out?? There was a point where in his anbu days, Kakashi had a one-night stand that looks like Obito??? Not gonna spoil anymore, in case you plan to read it!
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imustbenuts · 2 days
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nuts reading trigun in japanese 5 - vash is. super good with kids
disclaimer: more triangulation purposes etc etc
so i mentioned before in my part 3 that the japanese language has an inbuilt hierarchy quirk to it. and i kind of noticed this nuance getting somewhat lost in the english translation, either because again i have skill issues with english, or that EN inherently doesnt come with the same quirk.
elaborating a bit more: this hierarchy of position/standing can be determined by age, profession, occupation, and experience. in terms of hard priority, age and profession tends to take precedence over everything else.
this means effectively, vash being over 150 should be top dog and given respect in JP/Asian context (respect your elders! or else!!), but because he 1) looks 24, 2) uses very immature speech with strangers, 3) uses boku, hes effectively keeping his head down and posing as a dumbass schmuck.
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ヴァッシュの兄貴 行っちまうのか!? Big bro Vash, you're leaving?! (兄貴 = aniki = big bro but informal and can be used for no blood relations)
so schmucky that he has no problems handling children. in fact, in the JP version during his departure on the sand steamer, the kids call him Big Bro Vash. twice! so he's earned their adoration in no time flat.
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ヴァッシュの兄貴—ッ Big Bro Vash!!
leaving the translation like that ^ wouldnt flow well in english, so rip. also. cute scene.
and yet his meeting with Kaite is chaotically bad to say the least. i mean, he even gets drugged and knocked out. Kaite does not respect the guy who gave him food at all and plans to seemingly feed him 3 meals a day for the entire trip. so how? well.
once Brilliant Dynamites Neon comes in and turns things serious, Vash's starts doing a few interesting things.
skipping forward this and that. after getting almost blown off the sand steamer, vash holds onto kaite and they both cling on for dear life:
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もうちょっと登れば通風口があるよ mou chotto noboreba tsuufucou ga aru yo If we can climb a little higher there's a ventilation duct そーか そーか 今行こうすぐ行こう souka souka ima ikou sugu ikou Okay, okay, let's get going right now!
added romanji and color to highlight how vash is repeating phrases in his line. the そーか そーか souka souka and 行こう 行こう ikou ikou repeats are there as if to 1) make himself sound immature, and 2) to reassure kaite that things are under control.
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only touching on the bottom right panel. another possible reading of that line:
助けて頂いてありがとうございましただろう Situations like these are where you should say "thank you very much for saving my life" instead!
はいそーでした!!!
Now say it!!!
he's chiding kaite and doing the very asian adult thing of teaching the youngin manners in terms of tone. but in a stern funny way no offense taken way bc, as you might have noticed...
vash is deliberately putting himself on the same level as a kid. in tone in standing in speech. hes not being condescending. hes not lording his status as an adult over a child. (something something christ like but in the context of jp... hehe.)
this is ultimately what gets tough nut kaite to trust vash to get down to business to defeat The Neon. even without the words hes visually getting himself to be on the same (eye) level with kaite. i think its so good alsdjfdsa
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kaite starts crying after thinking of his dad and regretting what he's done, gets caught in a regret reflection loop, but vash brings him back to reality. like this:
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な に を 感 傷に ひ た って る か な こい つ は
another reading of this "What the hell are getting all sentimental for now ya brat?!" line might be "What. Good. Is. It. To. Lose. Your. Grip. On. Yourself. Now. You. Dummy?!"
with this he puts kaite's head back into reality and readjusts both their priority.
so again. vash just. is good with kids. his emotional intelligence is through the fucking roof as proven by all the other moments throughout tristamp and trimax*
idk its warms me bc. the asian confucius hierarchy is so... yuck. im technically of chinese descent so i know how fucked it is. so. vash is really cool with this slightly extra japanese asian hierarchy context.
i think this aspect of vash is something i dont see in english fanworks a lot, and not in the same tone. on the other hand, i do see this a lot in the jp fanworks. so idk exactly what factors or if im looking in the wrong places, but yeah. vash is good with kids. just like wolfwood.
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again, studio orange understood the assignment and gave some of that dynamic here to Tonnis.
are they called studio orange bc im meant to squeeze stampede for all its worth or what. stampede is actually incredible to me im in awe.
bonus:
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the jp version of the left text says roughly:
"I'm cursed!! I must be! By either the reaper or a god of misfortune and or more!!"
yeah he specifically says Shinigami and Binbougami. i dont think that would translate well in en bc this kinda throws the catholicsm theme into a bit of a tailspin LMAO. (also. the Ore here. note the context.)
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demensrage · 23 hours
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Immortal whispers ⚊ prologue
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── Summary: When the god Morax sees a mortal that capture his interest, he comes to realize that there is still so much of human nature that he has no experience of. For his lust for life through her he starts doubting himself and everything that makes an entity eternal. This is the story about a man, who finds out, what the essence of life is, as he will learn that love and death are two greatest gifts of life.
Note: English is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit ꩜.ᐟ
Warning: Zhongli!morax x reader, angust, fluff, eventual smut nothing explicit?
Wordcount: 363
chapter one
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In the mountains where the heavens stabbed and the river sang with millennia of history, a god watched over the provincial world from his high realm. Morax, the great god of contract, referred to the city as his guardian, representing strength and wisdom. Even though humanity continued with their daily lives without interference from the gods, cults and myths along with the songs and poetry about them were still an integral part of mortal life. There was harmony and soldiers did what was required of them. However, there was one of them who was never completely abandoned: Morax, he was still alive among them, well present in every rite they performed in the country that had benefited from all he had offered for its growth.
Even though he thought he had seen it all and knew it all, the tight feeling in his chest that nothing would make him happy as before overcame him. Emotional death was returning from the other side of the sky. In that moment of awkwardness, a faint light of curiosity took hold of his mind and propelled itself through his blood vessels, flickering in his heart and blooming like the best grassland in Liyue. “Interesting,” he said to himself as he continued to observe her through those bright amber eyes.
He was not only captivated by the physical beauty of the figure that had caught his attention; what truly amazed him was what he had so long failed to see in the soul of mortals: purity, the purity of a soul as bright as the woman present there. In her he found a connection of this light and joy, where Morax was sure he had lost this feeling forever.
Determined to understand that fascination, he made a bold decision: he would discard his celestial image and become a man, and try to understand that he has time for joy and happiness and relax like humans who, even knowing that they are trapped with death, continue to live. This marked the beginning of his path; an eternal murmur within the fabric of the universe where divinity merged with humanity and proclaimed that there was something wonderful waiting for it.
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© 2024 demensrage. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.
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zante-selachi · 1 month
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Orion who misses his country, not for the people he left behind but for the people
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[Translation:
I give it my all, I give it my all
It's my (our) country, it's my (our) blood
Live your life to the fullest, the long life we deserved
This is for you who received my vote
Tryna change the world, give the world a new voice
This isn't my country, it's our country
So just do it our way, our way
It's my (our) country]
Orion sang the lyrics quietly to himself as he sat leaning on a tree, surrounded by the silence of time and the dark of night. He clenched onto the grass beneath him with his teeth clenched, feeling his throat clogging up just from a single song.
His mind went back to when he was a child and how loving the people around him was, how they cared about him but not enough. No, it was not enough.
It was not enough when they let him be treated like nothing the moment he stepped into his home.
It was not enough when they showed concern over his blank, tired eyes but took his family's empty words at face value.
It was never enough.
But,
He remembered those people who treated everyone equally, who gave him extra meals after seeing how starved he was, who cheered him on when he told them that he was joining the military as soon as he was 18.
He remembered those who cried in his hands after he rescued them, who kept repeating their thanks to him, who sent him personalised letters and words of encouragement about his bravery and kindness.
Yes, he was in the military to protect the country and to him; the country was the people in them, not the disgusting pigs that did nothing but bring ruin to the country's hard-earned peace.
"Negaraku, ni semua untuk kebaikan aku. Maafkan kekurangan aku." [My country, this is all for my own good. Please forgive me for my weaknesses.] He choked out as he gripped at his old dog tag, from when he was still serving them.
He left them, both the people and the country because he was a selfISH, USELESS BASTARD- No, no, no, that's not it. They abandoned him first. Left him to DIE. There was no way he was staying no matter how heavy his heart was.
He had nothing to go back to anyway.
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thistledropkick · 2 months
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Posting this for my own reference and motivation, but here's my translation priority list right now.
First, I want to post translations of some older Chris Brookes and Desperado twitter conversations, along with a few more recent tweets relating to their match.
After that, I want to translate some old Douki tweets that I keep forgetting to post.
Longer-term, I want to post a lot of translations of lots of stuff relating to Desperado and Kasai's series of matches, including some free-to-read articles and some tweets and twitter conversations, including some that were removed from the internet when Despe deleted his old twitter account and Kasai's old account got banned.
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fideidefenswhore · 6 months
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Yeah I like to see some quotes please. I can't really get my head round people believing in Mary's bona fides when the law didn't even exist in England. It's like Americans obsessing over a law only Canadians have. But I guess loyalty/sentiment/status quo was a big part of it.
Well, I don't think most noblewo/men were deeply well-versed in succession/inheritance laws of England and all their precedents, unless they'd happened to also study law...the assumption was probably that what was the law in most of Christendom was for England as well, understandably. But, then, that's not even a subject that seems to be well-understood in 21c historiography:
“[Henry VIII] now argued she would would be barred by illegitimacy. This contention puzzled continental contemporaries because elsewhere in western Europe those children born to couples who in good faith believed themselves validly married were treated as legitimate. Nevertheless, Henry was right. After a period of some uncertainty, by the late fourteenth century England had opted out of the bona fides principle. As Sir John Baker notes, 'succession problems were usually debated in legal terms and in accordance with the common law canons of inheritance.’ A successful challenge to his marriage would thus automatically bastardise Mary and leave Henry no direct heir… [although] Mary could have been legitimated by statute.” - JF Hadwin, Katherine of Aragon and the Veil, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History
... so that's, for the 16c, like I said, an understandable assumption. (Also, their source was probably Chapuys, who was familiar with both secular and church law, but espoused many misunderstandings of their precedents, too...so did Fisher, they're enumerated in another article by the same historian, titled Leviticus, Deuteronomy and Henry VIII, I will post those relevant quotes too, if they're of interest to you, asw).
Yeah, the bona fides element was... an interesting one, nevertheless...like, all the interrogations I mentioned, everyone says they've heard Mary was bona fides but won't really explain what it meant, they admit their ignorance on the subject, and won't name the source of where they've heard it (although, like I mentioned, they are willing to point fingers to deflect suspicion off themselves of their former friends in other regards), just assert that they all sort of mindlessly (lol) repeated what they'd heard, all, understandably, to maintain plausible deniability and get themselves out of the hot water they've landed themselves in.
For the Exeter conspiracy, I've posted one relevant in the past, I'll see what else I can scrounge up from my notes of excerpts.
It was, but I don't think courtier opportunism should be underestimated. Just one example, but I always remember that the Marquis of Exeter was one of the delegation of nobles HVIII sent to pressure CoA to relinquish her rights as Queen, tell Charles V to stop interfering in the matter, and one of the conspirators named by Chapuys in the Boleyn downfall. Granted, his wife had been one of Mary's supporters from very early on, so I think that element is there.
Elitism is probably an overestimated element, like while it's true the Boleyns were not born of royalty (neither were the Seymours, tho, so like...); I think what was going on beneath the surface was more intricate. Take Nicholas Carew, for example: originally, he'd been of the Boleyn faction, understandably, since they were cousins (he also, initially at least, seemed to favour a French alliance, so there's that). But I think what began as , well, the King needs a son, and if he's going to marry another wife, it might as well be a woman of my family as anyone else, to my benefit as much as anyone else...well, I think the shine came off this as matters unfolded. The thrust of their expectations were probably that AB was going to have as much, or less, influence as her predecessor with Henry, and her influence and power quickly outstripped those expectations. As the Boleyns gained power, wealth, and influence, and as men like Carew felt their own influence ebb in favour of say, George Boleyn (and I use him as an example, because by early 1536, it's evident many noblemen hated George, Lancelot de Carles' report of those events really crystallizes this)...well, resentment only grew, and their desire for the return of the status quo was thus kindled.
#anon#i can do some quotes about george from joanna della neva's translation too if you'd like. again; just about finding time.#anyway don't mistake this for anglocentric superiority...hviii was wrong too lol#it seems like his assertion that margaret douglas would be illegitimated by the annulment of her parents' marriage#was a misapplication / presumption of english law applying to scottish laws of inheritance#and that this was the argument for his justification of anger over his sister's divorce...erroneously#or maybe he meant the 'risk' that the pope wouldn't annul it and then what. idk#granted he also asserted she was illegitimate himself at a later date. altho that might've just been bcus the pope said she wasn't#and he was obviously contrary and big on believing his own understanding of canon law as superior to popes' by that point . saurr...#and also; the argument many make: had AB ever had a son#there would likely be a huge return of those like carew to her faction/party#altho. since anne tended to hold a grudge. more like a tide of attempts to do so ...#and i say that's not a subject that seems well understood bcus. well.can't tell you how many tudor biographies#essentially repeat the same narrative: mary was bona fides and henry was stupid for not just ~accepting~ this and treating her as such#and/or he did it out of spite and the counterfactual he would've let mary remain a princess had anne had a son instead in 1533 or if she'd#accepted her stepmother as queen....#so. the above article was quite illuminating. as it was by a historian who specializes in the subject#and most don't.
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diaospuppy · 1 year
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Two Worlds - โลกสองใบ ใจดวงเดียว
Official Poster - Series coming 2023
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grandadtwelve · 2 years
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the tragedy of english-speaking monolingual people writing scripts for characters who are bilingual and then the poor actor has to try to get through these lines in their non-native language that just don’t make sense grammatically to how someone with english as their second language would speak
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readingloveswounds · 5 months
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i hope this title is fine. i am so excited to be able to in text cite french without people complaining (bc the whole thing is in french)
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pinolitas · 6 months
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i hate being my parents' parent
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slytherinslut0 · 10 months
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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.
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info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.
word count: 3k
tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.
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Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.
As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.
His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.
Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.
You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.
It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.
"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."
"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."
"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."
Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..."  your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."
A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.
"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"
Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.
No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.
Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.
"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."
You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.
As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.
"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)
"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"
"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)
In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.
Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.
"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)
His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.
The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.
"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"
"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"
"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.
Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.
He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.
"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"
You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.
"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."
Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."
"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."
"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)
He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."
It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.
Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.
"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."
"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."
Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.
Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.
You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.
"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."
"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."
"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."
Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"
"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"
You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"
"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."
With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.
Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.
"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."
His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.
"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"
You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"
"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."
With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.
Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.
"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."
"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."
He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."
You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"
"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."
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ASL brothers HAIKYUU!! AU!!!!!
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Day one of Self Indulgent month for me! I love these three, i love haikyuu, i love killer whales!
(The Naval Academy is this au’s version of marines)
For those who dont know, in Haikyuu (and prob in real life too but in my experience its not as important as they make it in the anime) The "Ace" of the team is the person who primarily scores points via spiking. Theyre the Hard Hitter, basically.
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Design talk👇
Originally, i was gonna make their school mascot just "The Pirates" but i couldnt figure out a clever pun with the school name so i scrapped it in favor of an animal mascot. I figured I would have a wider range of puns that way.
I landed on Orcas as the mascot because I think they really embody a pirate way of life. Theyre strong, hang out in groups of a mix of found family and their actual family, hate the rich, and theyre fun loving! And also im a bit biased because theyre my favorite animal, but hey, i said its self indulgent month, didnt I?
Their school name is a play on the word for Killer Whale (Shachi シャチ) and the word for 'knowledge' (Chishiki 知識), i just smashed the two words together. I'm very proud of myself for coming up with that given i dont speak japanese at all.
Anyway, with their designs, I was taking inspiration from orcas to match the design themes of haikyuu. Ace's hair is bleached on the underside to look like the underside of an orca's body, I made ace and sabo's eyes look more whale-like, the clip in sabo's hair is meant to resemble to spots behind orca's eyes, and I tried to make luffy's hair look more like it's round and spiking down more than i usually do.
Ace is wearing a ''way of the ace" shirt in the first picture, Luffy is wearing a shirt that just says "VOLLEY BALL" because i think it would be funny if he wore a bunch of those Zero-context-poorly-translated-random-english-words shirts that theres a bunch of in Asia. Sabo dyes his hair like delinquents do, but it doesnt much look delinquent~y because of how soft it looks. He means to do it to make him look like a delinquent though. Sabo still has his scars in this au, but he uses his hair, arm braces, and leg braces to cover them up. LUFFY AND ACE HAVE FUNKY SOCKS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN TELL THEM (or me) THEY CANT. Sabo wears athletic socks though because he's a debbie downer. He defends himself saying “It’s practical” and Ace and luffy call him “practically a Debbie Downer.”
Luffy is very good at receiving from growing up with Sabo and Ace practicing setting and spiking with eachother and assigning Luffy as Ball Boy. So he got the libero position from that cuz sabo and ace put in a good word for him. Nepotism.
I didn't feel like coming up with designs for them, but Zoro and Bepo are also on their team (theyre in the fifth image sitting on the right of the line of students). Koala and nami are student managers, Robin is the teacher manager, and Franky is the coach. all other straw hats/luffy friends, rev army comrades, and whitebeard brethren are in the stands. Im trying to keep the ages consistent with how they are in canon.
I didnt do a very in depth research, but i couldnt find what Japanese schools have as mascot costumes. and given no one wears any costumes in haikyuu for their team, i can kind of assume they dont use them over there. But unfortunately for them, I'm American. And part of the backbone of our schooling system, is Vaguely Unsettling Mascot Costumes. My sister says my design for it looks like its from Club Penguin, and i find that delightful. [moment of silence for my billions of fallen Puffles, taken from me in The Shutdown] Anyway.
I thought I was clever coming up with the equivalent of the Marines in this au being a Naval Academy. And their mascot being Seals, famously the animal that gets the absolute Worst Of It from orcas. Get shit onnnnn
I believe thats about it, thanks for coming to my ted talk :)
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aces-and-angels · 1 month
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there is no denying the power the english language holds over the western world-- or rather the world itself. time has shown me how limiting it really is. how many words are lost in translation? how many people are shunned because their tongue has been deemed inferior?
i'd like to shine a spotlight on hossam's campaign (verified/vetted; no. 251 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet) his ability to campaign for himself is hampered by the imperfection of google translate and the volatility and precariousness of the ongoing genocide he suffers through. hossam writes:
"i have not lost anything material. i have only lost my entire family, except for the wives of my young brothers and their children. therefore, i am responsible for taking care of them."
my heart aches for hossam. he is waylaid by a lack of internet, but begs you to please consider his campaign/donate to his family so that they can have safety and survival. they deserve that and more. again in hossam's words:
"i created this campaign, hoping for all of you to succeed and obtain the money for their travel and private life insurance for a short period of time, so that we can at least feel safe from traveling and sitting. in a relatively quiet place, away from the machine of death, then thank you to those who stood by me, and thank you to all the donors, and thank you to all who will donate after this post. thank you all, from my broken heart, thank you."
as of posting, hossam has raised $4,510 CAD / $20,000 CAD. do not be a bystander- share where you can, donate if you have the means to.
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feralgirlfeelings · 9 months
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miguel o'hara breeding kink smut cause i'm ovulating rn
pairing: miguel o'hara x female reader
tags: established relationship, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, little bit of dumbification, little bit of orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, female reader, afab anatomy, dom!miguel, oneshot
SO NSFW. minors dni!
spanish to english translations are at the bottom :)
word count: 992
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he has you lying down with your ass up, pillow under your hips, and a firm grip on your hips. he whispers sweet nothings into your ear and about how much he wants to fuck you.
miguel slides his thick, hard cock in between your folds, soaking in your wetness, before lining himself up at your entrance. he slowly pushes into your tight cunt.
"fuuuck, i missed this," miguel groans, holding back the urge to plunge deep inside you. you bury your face into the sheets as you feel the mild ache of being stretched out. he continues to slide in until he reaches the hilt, his tip pushing against your cervix.
he pauses to give you a moment to adjust to his girth. you feel so full, you can barely breathe. "go slow miguel, you're too big," you whine.
he chuckles, "lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño." he starts to pump into you, straining to keep a slow pace. your heavy breaths and soft moans fill the room.
as he slowly thrusts his dick into your tight cunt, the previous sting of being stretched transforms into a throbbing pleasure.
you feel a coil start to form in your lower abdomen and your moans start to get louder, his gentle pace no longer being enough for you. "mm, fuck me harder, miguel," you plead.
"anything for you, my princesa." he tightens his grip on your hips as he drags his dick out until his tip is just slightly kissing your entrance. he then slams his hips against you, driving his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your stomach.
you weren't prepared for the sheer power that this man is fucking you with. he thrusts into you at a dizzying pace and you can barely choke out his name.
"te sientes tan bien." he slaps your ass, delivering a sharp sting that makes you inhale sharply, "fuck you're so tight." he grabs your asscheek, groaning at the site of himself sliding in and out of you.
you moan in response, barely comprehending what he was saying. you were so fucked out of your mind and could only focus on the orgasm that you were so close to having.
just as you feel yourself almost reach your peak, miguel pulls out, leaving you empty. your poor walls clench around nothing. "miguel!" you whine in protest, "put it back in!"
he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. "i want to see your pretty face when you cum." he separates your folds with his cock, rubbing against your sensitive clit. you wrap your arms and legs around him and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, before plugging you back up again.
all you can do is mumble his name over and over again as he continuously rams into you. every pump delivering mind-numbing pleasure. the orgasm you were robbed of had crept back, and once again you felt a tightness in your stomach.
"i'm gonna fill you up, fuck a baby into you," he groaned in between the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your soft flesh.
his words drive you crazy. the thought of being stuffed full of miguel's hot, thick cum brought you closer to the edge. he knows you're close, so he pounds into you faster and harder, chasing your release.
pressure builds until you feel the tension wound in your stomach burst. you cry out his name as your walls contract and you cream around his cock. he groans at the feeling of the added slick and your pussy squeezing around his dick.
he doesn't stop after you come down from your high. "you did so good, mami," he whispers in your ear, "ahora es mi turno." he holds you in place by your hips and fucks his dick into you, driven by a primal desire to fill you with his seed.
you're overstimulated and fucked out, your body limp and your eyes rolled back. all you could think about was how badly you wanted to be bred by miguel. "m-miguel," you stutter, "breed me. p-please."
"te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada. you're gonna make such a pretty mommy. f-fuck—" his thrusts get more erratic as he inches closer to his peak. he groans out your name before slamming your hips down onto his dick. he shutters as he releases thick ropes of cum into your desperate cunt, flooding your velvety walls. all you manage to do is let out some strained moans. nothing mattered more in that moment than you taking his seed. he makes sure to stuff his cum deep inside you, his tip jamming the entrance to your fertile womb. he pauses for second to catch his breath, before slowly rolling his hips, just to make sure he gave you every last drop.
he stops thrusting and collapses on top of you, but keeps you plugged up with his dick. his excess seed starts to dribble out of you. you're both panting, sweaty, and exhausted. he moves the hair out of your face and meets your lips with his for a gentle kiss. "look what you do to me. me vuelves loco, cariño,"
you let out a weak giggle, "you want my babies?" you ask playfully. you tangle your fingers in his hair, lazily combing through his messy locks.
"yeah," he returns a chuckle, "you're too pretty to not breed." he starts peppering your face and neck with pecks. "eres mi bonita esposa."
"i think you'd make a great father," you smile warmly and interlock your fingers with his. "you know...usually it takes a few tries before it takes."
"oh?" he asks amusingly, "well, i guess i'll have to fill you up again."
you feel his dick start to harden again inside of you. you brace yourself for another round.
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translations: ("lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño" -> "you're doing so good, sweetheart") ("te sientes tan bien" -> "you feel so good") ("ahora es mi turno" -> "it's my turn now") ("te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada" -> "i'm gonna fill you up with my cum, fuck you till you're pregnant") ("me vuelves loco, cariño" -> "you drive me crazy, sweetheart") ("eres mi bonita esposa" -> you're my pretty wife")
hope you enjoy!!! >:0 btw this is my first time writing a fic that included dialogue in spanish, so idk if things are all well-written or gramatically correct. i tried to take some tips from spanish-speaking miguel o'hara enjoyers, but if anyone wants to correct anything or give me tips, i'm super super open to it!
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vociferans · 1 year
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HES SO DETAILED AND ARTICULATE ABOUT IT I AM SO IMPRESSED you cant just. oh my g
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