#cannot say the same about mexican

[unityrain24]

ghhh... got lost under mexican cooking tutorials...

[starszinhis3y3s]

I'm so dead 🤦🏽 this older white lady im associates with (im friends wit her daughter, theyre a packaged deal unfortunately) told me last night the most racist conspiracy theory ever!!!!

okay, so basically this woman thinks that housecats were artificially created by Ancient Egyptians (cuz they were all aliens dont u know? they brought this technology from their homeworld!). she legitimately thinks that Egyptians created housecats by combining SNAKES and LIONS. she acted like i was stupid for not knowing this, when shes basing all these lies on that cats are the "only mammals" that have slitted pupils 😐 like....wtf. please hop off the fucken youtube conspiracy theory train girl.

ik she'll never see this but like heres some actually correct knowledge for ya hannah!!!!

the following mammals ALL have slitted pupils:

goats, sheep, deers, most snakes, all cats smaller than a bobcat, etc. pretty much a shittonne of herbivores, reptiles, insects, and predators that hunt close to the ground! literally hundreds of animals, the only distinction between herbivore and carnivore/omnivore slit pupils is horizontal (helps prey animals live) versus vertical (helps predators move in darkness)

WE HAVE CATS CUZ HUMANS DOMESTICATE EVERYTHING WE GET OUR HANDS ON 😭🫡

Egyptians were COLORED FOLK NOT ALIENS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. they were all just people, like we are!! they just happened to live a long time ago. now i will say, the Egyptian Empire was so long lived, and not documented super duper well (time is a bastard lol she'll have us all) that we will never 100% know what happened and/or what all technologies they had. that being said, it was period appropriate technology 😭 please get off the fucken misinformation trail.

hey bitch guess what?! being a transbian dont excuse/erase your rampant bumpkin ass midwestern ass racism. "theres no racism in Kansas! racism is like soooo different in kansas, it barely exists! oh i black family and friends who all tell/encourage me to say the n word so its okay!" BITCH IM FROM TEJAS ILL FUCK U UP IF KEEP ON WIT THAT SHIT IN MY FACE THEN ACT LIKE *IM* THE FUCKED UP FOR BEIN UPSET😒

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: List of Aphrodisiacs

Here is a brief list of some of the foods that have been considered, at some time or other, to have aphrodisiac qualities.

Almond - As well as being the same shape as the vesica piscis, the sacred doorway through which matter emerges into spirit, the almond is a nut and therefore carries the potential for new life.

Aniseed - Falls into the category of seeds. Also aids digestion and sweetens the breath which could explain why the Romans considered it a useful ingredient for seduction.

Apple - Infamous as the fruit that Eve gave to Adam, a symbol of sexual awakening.

Asafetida - (or Asafoetida) This is the ground root of a fennel-like plant. It has a powerful odor, and despite its folk name, Devil’s Dung, it is used as a sexual stimulant in Ayurvedic medicine.

Avocado - The Mexicans called the avocado tree the “testicle tree,” since the fruit dangles down in pairs. The sensual texture of avocado adds to its reputation.

Banana - The banana flower resembles the phallus. Islamic tales say that Adam and Eve covered their sexual parts with banana leaves rather than the more common fig leaves.

Cherry - Sensuously red and juicy, and containing a potent symbol of new life inside the stone. “Popping the cherry” is a slang term for losing one’s virginity.

Chocolate - The melting point of chocolate is the same as that of blood temperature, and so its mouthfeel alone is a sensual experience. Added to this, chocolate contains mood-lifting substances, including phenylethylamine which, when released into the bloodstream, induce feelings of euphoria. Still arguably the most popular food given as a gesture of love. When the 16th century Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés heard about its reputation as an aphrodisiac, he planted two thousand trees.

Cinnamon - The glorious scent of cinnamon was reputedly used as oil by the Queen of Sheba to help her capture the attention of King Solomon.

Cloves - Because they resemble little phalluses, cloves were considered to enhance male potency. The clove tree was planted to signify the birth of a baby boy in certain parts of Indonesia, the health of the tree reflecting the health of the child as it grew up.

Coriander - Also comes under the category of seeds. Reputed to stimulate appetites of all kinds.

Fennel - The Egyptians who used this as a sexual stimulant cannot have known that it contains plant estrogens that can help balance female hormones. These estrogens also enhance the breasts.

Fig - The plethora of tiny seeds inside the fig is symbolic of fertility, and the moist plumpness of the fruit has a very sensual, feminine element to it.

Ginger and ginseng - Considered to have aphrodisiac powers because of their sharp sensual taste, and because their roots resemble the human form.

Honey - The sweetness of honey made it a rarity for ancient man. It is likely to have given humankind its first instance of alcohol in the form of mead, and its intoxicating effect has distinct aphrodisiac qualities. Bees are themselves symbols of fertility, and honey gives its name to the honeymoon period spent by newlyweds immediately after their marriage.

Mint - A Greek legend says that Menthe, a beautiful nymph, was transformed into the herb because Persephone was jealous of the beautiful scent that captivated her husband, Pluto.

Oyster - The oyster’s resemblance in form, scent, and texture to the female genitalia is renowned. Oysters have had a long history as an aphrodisiac and their reputation is well known. The pearl that is sometimes found inside the oyster was said to increase the powers of arousal, because it resembles the clitoris. Other shellfish, such as mussels, fall into this same category.

Raspberries and strawberries - Libido enhancing because of their color, their many tiny seeds, and their resemblance to nipples.

Star anise - Because of its shape, the star anise was sacred to the Goddess and therefore a potent fertility symbol.

Tomato - Also called the “Love Apple” and is regarded as an aphrodisiac, because of the prolific number of seeds contained within it. However, the name itself is the result of an accidental misinterpretation. Because they were originally a yellow color they were called “Pomo D’or” in Italy, the Apple of Gold. It was also called the “Pomo d’Moro”—the apple of the Moors, referring to its Spanish origins. From here, it was just a slip of the tongue to the French, “Pomme d’Amour,” or Love Apple.

Source Writing Notes: Aphrodisiacs

[caputvulpinum]

Have you talked at all about your feelings about Barbie? Cause what little I've seen seems to like up with my feelings on it and it feels weird to be surrounded by unbridled praise or MRAs hating on it because it's Girly™️

At the end of the day Barbie was only ever going to be able to be just a Barbie movie. At the end of the day Mattel paid Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling more than $10,000,000 to be Stereotypical Barbie and Ken. At the end of the day Mattel's stock price has risen to more than 20 dollars per share, more than double in the past two years. At the end of the day Mattel wanted Greta Gerwig to make them a movie that would make the most people possible want to buy more Barbie-branded things. At the end of the day Mattel would only have released a "new breakup movie" if that press was considered more profitable. At the end of the day, Barbie is a story that wants to sell you Barbie, and therefore it cannot have a message which would distract from selling you Barbie. At the end of the day the Mattel CEO and board go back to the real world having learned no valuable life lessons beyond "Listening to a Mexican woman can make you major profit margins". At the end of the day the mother and her daughter have learned the valuable life lesson that the only way the world will pay any attention to the banality of your suffering is if you can sell it to a lot of young girls. At the end of the day Ken's friend Allen is never allowed to be a Ken (man) and therefore is constantly associated with, but never as, the Barbies (women), and no one seems to question this nor care. At the end of the day, all of the Barbies learn that in order to defeat the patriarchy you must be emotionally manipulative and flirty-but-in-an-evil-way. At the end of the day Barbie tells a story about biological essentialism and battle-of-the-sexes in a bright pink #Empowering way and Margot Robbie cries several times. Kens are told that they are "not 'just' Kens" but also that the reason that they sought out the comfort of patriarchy--the idea that their masculinity and manhood was something to be cherished and respected just as much as a Barbie's femininity is, and that they were not lesser or greater than each other--will not be addressed as anything more than a hilarious Gotcha meta-laugh about how at the end of the day women still don't have rights in any meaningful way no matter how empowered they are under the current system. The conflict built around having no vocabulary to describe the complex and difficult emotions that these dolls have been going through has been resolved by ending the movie before resolving or questioning this. At the end of the day the Kens are villains and jokes, and as the credits roll, we can be safe in knowing that absolutely nothing has changed and all of this will happen again in the exact same ways.

In the movie Barbie, at the end of the day, Ken asks to sleep over at Barbie's Dream House for the night, and she tells him no, because it is Girl's Night, every night, forever. We see the Barbies go to sleep with Stereotypical Barbie saying, "Good night, Barbies! I'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!" This is very funny, and she goes to sleep and then wakes up feeling probably about how I do every morning, which is supposed to be relatable.

At the end of the day, in the movie Barbie, we see Ken walking away from Stereotypical Barbie's deathless and eternal slumber party dejected and alone. He is walking to the exit of the Barbie Dreamhouse Neighborhood. We do not see if he gets to go to sleep in his own house. We, in fact, see quite a lot which implies he is homeless and goes to sleep on the beach, which I was forced to do when I was 18 in Santa Cruz in one of my first attempts to escape a toxic and abusive household. I still remember the way that the sea can rot when trapped by wooden pier foundations, covered in mildew-wet seafoam, old kelp from the high tide, and the way that when I got up the next morning you could see exactly how I'd fallen asleep like an old-school chalk outline of where a corpse was.

At the end of the day, in the movie Barbie, what the Kens wanted revolved around having their own homes that they could go to sleep in and fill with things that made them happy just like how the Barbies did. This is supposed to be a symbol of patriarchy, because they corrupted the femininity of the Dream Houses, and that is bad. When the Barbies win, at the end of the day, the Dream Houses go back to being Dream Houses, and we still have never once seen any sign that the Kens had houses, and the movie assures us that if they don't, then "maybe someday" they might have enough societal power to be able to try and fight for a house that they're allowed to own and have be theirs, something that women in Western society have only quite relatively recently gained the permission and possibility to do, and Barbieland is basically the same as the real world but with the "two" genders switched.

At the end of the day, if I try to actually analyze the Barbie movie as a bioessentialist antifeminist and anti-intersectional regressive film which glorifies the thinnest possible shred of pro-capitalism feminism possible, I'll sound like a fucking lunatic, because it's just a stupid movie about dolls made to sell you Barbies, and of course it would never be anything but bioessentialist pro-capitalist toothless brand bullshit which wants you to think that Margot Robbie and wearing pink are the peaks of antipatriarchal activism. At the end of the day, Celluloid Barbie can only exist because Mattel thinks Celluloid Barbie would make its brand a lot of money, and not because it actually cares about the anti-ageing fatphobic standards of Western womanhood, because Mattel is a brand which can care about nothing except being a machine which you put money into and in exchange pink plastic bullshit comes out.

[molsno]

I've already written about why male socialization is a myth that needs to be discarded, but in the responses to those posts, I sometimes find tme trans people who concede that yes, the concept of male socialization should be rejected, but refuse to let go of their own supposed female socialization. this always makes me quite reasonably angry, for two reasons:

I dislike it when people hijack my posts about transmisogyny to talk about things that aren't transmisogyny.

rejecting male socialization but embracing female socialization is still innately transmisogynistic.

you might find yourself wondering how that second point could possibly be true. it's true for a lot of reasons, and I'll explain to the best of my ability.

"female socialization" is the idea that people who were assigned female at birth undergo a universal experience of girlhood that stays with them the rest of their lives.

right off the bat, this concept raises alarm bells. first, it is a bold (and horribly incorrect) assertion to claim that there is any universal experience of girlhood that is shared by all people who were afab. what exactly constitutes girlhood varies greatly based on culture, time period, race, class, sexual orientation, and many, many other factors. disregarding transness for a moment, can you really say that, for example, white women and black women in modern day america, even with all else being equal, are socialized in the same way? the differences in "socialization" only become more stark the fewer commonalities two given people have. to give another example, a white gay trans man born in 2001 to an upper middle class family in a progressive city in the north is going to have a very different life than a cis straight mexican woman born in 1952 to an impoverished family and risked her life immigrating to the us in the deep south. can you really say anything meaningful about the "female socialization" that these two supposedly have in common? I think that b. binaohan said it best in "decolonizing trans/gender 101":

Then in a singular sense we most certainly cannot talk about 'male socialization' or 'female socialization' as things that exist. We can only talk about 'male socialization**s**' and 'female socialization**s**'. For if we take the multiplicity of identity seriously, as we must, then we are socialized as a whole person based on the nexus of the parts of our identity and our axes of oppression. ... Indeed, it gets complex enough that we could assert, easily, that each individual is socialized in unique ways that cannot be assumed true of any other person, since no one else shares our **exact** context. Not even my sister was socialized in the same way that I was.

and while I could just leave it at that and tell you to read the rest of their book (which you should), it wouldn't sit right with me if I just debunked the concept without explaining exactly why it's transmisogynistic at its core.

now, I should preface this by saying that I believe trans people have a right to identify however they want, and I think that trans people deserve the space to talk about their lives before transition without facing judgment. there are tme trans people who consider themselves women and there are trans men who don't consider themselves women at all but nonetheless have a lot of negative experiences with being expected to conform to womanhood. I don't want to deprive these people of the ability to talk about their life experiences. however, I do want them to keep in mind a few things.

first of all, "female socialization" is terf rhetoric. terfs talk all the time about how womanhood is inherently traumatic, which they regularly use as a talking point to convince trans men to detransition and join their side. when your whole ideology hinges on the belief that having been afab predestines you to a life of suffering, who is a better target to indoctrinate than trans people for whom being expected to conform to womanhood was a major source of trauma and dysphoria? the myth of female socialization is precisely why there are detransitioners in the terf movement who vehemently oppose trans rights.

that's why when tme trans people talk about having undergone female socialization, it's almost always steeped in the underlying implication that womanhood is an innately negative experience. even if they don't buy into the biological determinism central to radical feminism, that implication is still present. because, you see, womanhood can still be innately negative because the result of being viewed as and expected to be a woman is that you are inundated with misogyny.

that right there is why clinging to the notion of female socialization is transmisogynistic. it allows tme trans people, many of whom don't even consider themselves women, to position themselves as experts who understand womanhood and misogyny better than any trans woman ever could. that's why I find it disingenuous when a tme trans person claims to reject male socialization but still considers themself as having undergone female socialization; how could they possibly benefit from doing so, other than by claiming to be more oppressed than trans women, by virtue of supposedly experiencing more misogyny?

by being viewed as more oppressed than trans women on the basis of female socialization, they gain access to "women's only" spaces that trans women are denied access to. their voices are given priority in discussions about gendered oppression. people more readily view them as the victims when they come into interpersonal conflict with trans women. they become incapable of perpetrating transmisogyny on the basis of being the "more oppressed" category of trans people.

how exactly could such a person not be transmisogynistic, though? if they believe that gendered socialization is a valid and universal truth that one can never escape from, then what does it even mean for them to reject the concept of male socialization? if they were to actually, vehemently reject it, then they would no longer be able to leverage their own "female socialization" to imply that trans women aren't real, genuine women on account of not having experienced it. and make no mistake - there are very few tme trans people who subscribe to the myth of gendered socialization that even claim to reject male socialization. most of the time, they're very clear about their beliefs that trans women have some "masculine energy" that we can never truly get rid of after having undergone a lifetime of being expected to conform to manhood. and as a result, they continue to treat trans women as dangerous oppressors.

that's why gendered socialization as a concept needs to be abandoned wholesale. there's nothing wrong with talking about your experiences as a trans person, but giving any validity to this vile terf rhetoric always harms trans women, just like it was intended to do from its very inception.

[leclerc-s]

reluctant parents

series masterlist

penelopetrevino posted new stories

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

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

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

natalia ruiz a dog, charlie did the same thing.

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

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

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

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

penelope trevino I TOLD YOU TWO!!

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

carlos sainz but amor, you love lando!

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

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

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

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

oscar piastri why am i always getting involved in shit?

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

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

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

penelope trevino BACK TO MY PROBLEM PEOPLE!

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

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

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

carlos sainz we are not that bad.

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

lando norris we may have a problem.

penelope trevino you think?

penelopetrevino and landonorris have posted new stories

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

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

rowan todd you'll go to jail?

penelope trevino not good enough

isabella perez jesus will never let you forget this.

penelope trevino we're getting there.

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

penelope trevino thank you for that reminder zoya.

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

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

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

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

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

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

mae jones-verstappen throw him into the slammer!!

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

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

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

rowan todd okay, that's my boyfriend nat.

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

bailey winters EMBARRASSING!!

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

bailey winters

rowan todd never make fun of me again bailey.

mae jones-verstappen she was obviously starving

isabella perez somewhere on the coast.

rowan todd you two are comedians.

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

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

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

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

penelope trevino he is my sea urchin.

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

dulce perez it's an irrational fear daph!!

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

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

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lando.jpg and others

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

tagged: carlossainz55, landonorris

view all comments

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

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

↳ pierregasly WHAT GROUP CHAT?

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

↳ alex_albon FAKE PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!!

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

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

↳ user26 that's very true

user89 those texts from lando are foul!!

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

↳ penelopetrevino now that's a good idea.

↳ landonorris hold up what?

↳ carlossainz55 no.

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

↳ landonorris that's actually not a bad idea.

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

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

↳ landonorris STOP GIVING HER IDEAS!

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

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

↳ landonorris why am i always getting threatened with violence?

↳ isabellaperez because you pull shit like this.

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

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

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

[trtlebuns]

Who would’ve thought?

Random things about T141 + Alejandro & Köing

Tags: Fluff and cursing (maybe?)

Alejandro Vargas

my man my man my man!!!!

Alejandro HATES!!! Spicy foods, even though he is Mexican and grew up in a Mexican household he CANNOT handle anything spicy

Wakes up at 6:45 everyday

His comfort clothing includes: a tank top or T-shirt with grey joggers and black/socks

He would often cook the meals (very house husband of him)

Hates alcoholic beverages, like he’ll drink them but won’t enjoy them

Favorite color is: Rosewood Pink

Favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry

He doesn’t wear cologne

He takes his skin care VERY serious

When he’s angry or excited he would talk in his native tongue

Will call out of work if his hair isn’t “hairing”

Likes to kiss you on the forehead near your edges

Likes to watch you get dressed

Wants to have a big family

If he could be any cartoon character he would be Milo from fish hooks

Has a tattoo of your initial behind his ear

Köing

Listens to lofi and jazz

A light sleeper

Hates pickles

Wears his mask in public but at home he wears a big sweater with a large hood to hide most of his face (specifically a deep purple sweater)

Likes all of the avengers movies and if one is coming out he would buy tickets in advance (like 3-6 months in advance)

Likes strawberry milk but is severely lactose intolerant

Hates raisins but likes grapes

His comfort outfit would be: at home, a onesie to match yours or if in public ( like he goes out there willingly) would be a hoodie and joggers with crocs

Enjoys putting on his eye makeup while you do your makeup

Still doesn’t know what “beat this face to the gods” mean, even though you only say it when you do your makeup

Is happy with being with you and having a cat or two (or any small animal of your choice)

Prefers to eat ketchup with anything

Likes sardines

Likes to hug you from the back

Favorite color is: Mulberry Purple

He wears your initial as a chain

Has a dad sneeze

GHOST (Simon Riley)

Hates anything super sweet or sweeting in general

Prefers coffee (black) over tea, but would drink it if it’s the only thing around

He likes pumpkin spice lattes (yes he’s a basic bi- brit 🫣)

Secretly adds weapons to you car every time he gets in it

Like why do you have a knife in your cup holder?? How did that get there, you wonder

Orders steak every time you guys eat out anywhere “fancy”

Wears a face mask when he’s out

Your nickname for him is “beady eyed brit”

Only kisses you on the cheek and the temple

He rolls his eyes at everything

“Omg mon, you didn’t have to get me this??” You said happily as you hugged Simon. “I wouldn’t have gotten it, if you didn’t stop pestering me about it” He sighed and rolled his eyes knowing that he would buy you the world if you only mentioned it once

He loves peppermints

He likes to watch you…just do you

You’re in the kitchen? Boom, he’s leaning on the fridge watching you. You’re in the bathroom fixing your hair, Boom, he’s sitting on the toilet seat just staring. You’re walking around talking on the phone? Boom, he’s right there in arms distance listening and watching you. Just watching

He listens to classical music

Comfort fit: anything that’s lying on the floor closest to him or anything that seems comfy to him, could be shorts and a shirt or joggers and topless as long as he’s comfy he don’t care

Prefers to be just with you but wouldn’t mind stretching the family

He likes to skip rocks

He knows how to skateboard

Weirdly obsessed with peanut butter because of the “protein”

Favorite color is: Juniper Green

He goes makeup shopping with you because you need to know what type of eye makeup he wears that lasts through literal war

SOAP (Johnny Mactavish)

Hates coconut flavored anything! It could artificial or down to the real deal he HATES IT

Likes to yell at the tv

Must take a bite of your food, it doesn’t matter if you both have the same thing or not. He needs a bite and his reasoning is “I’m testing for poison”

Get you a man who CARES!

Would rate your burps out of 10

Let’s you paint his nails

He spills the tea and so do you

Johnny bursts through the door, and started you “BIIIIIIITCH!!!” Johnny says as he shakes his head walks towards you, you already know the tea is piping HOT! “Let me tell you what price done said over the phone just now” he says as he props down on the bed and you get into a sitting position “I’m all ears babe” you get ready for the most juiciest information of you life

Likes to pee/shit while you’re in the bathroom (it’s his favorite activity)

He rock climbs for a hobby

Favorite color is: Coin Silver

Always calls and never text in advance that he needs to talk

Comfort outfit: pajama bottoms, bunny slippers, and topless or a tanktop

Likes to sleep in cold temperatures

Tackles you with hugs and kisses whenever he sees you

You’re on the phone trying to pay a bill? Boom, he’s right next to you kissing your head and hugging you from the back. You’re trying to get ready for work? Boom, you’re making out and now you gotta call off work…AGAIN!

Listens to a lot of Megan thee stallion because he heard you playing thot shit

Hates the texture of cottage cheese

He’s a horrible cook and so are you, but you both try your best and end up ordering out

Likes to throw things at you and act as if he had no idea what you’re talking about when you ask if he threw something at you

“Ow, what the fu-“ you say as you scratch your head and look at the ground and see an orange crayon on the floor. You look up and see Johnny at the table with a coloring book and crayons “J did you just throw this at me” you question as you raise the crayon. He looks and you and you look at him… “I have no idea what you’re talking about” he says calmly as he goes back to coloring. You sigh, “then how did this get over here?” You roll your eyes and put your hand on your hip. “It must’ve been already over there” he shrugs while continuing his activity with a small smirk pulling at his lips

Likes to eat haggis ( Scottish bastard )

Knows how to play the flute

He would like to have 3 kids and 2 dogs (specifically a Rottweiler and Doberman)

[activelybrainwashed]

Pinned Post

I claim this one to be my most honest blog, so here we go:

First of all, what this is about: Basically a hypnosis, brainwashing and mindcontrol fetish blog where I share my thoughts, experiences, ideas and anything I feel the need to express or let be known.

About me: I am a very chill Mexican dude living currently his 31st year of existence in Mexico City, with the goal of living in Europe someday, and professionally, becoming a digital artist.

Now the interesting part:

Why this blog exists: Well, as many people here, I found out I loved hypno even before knowing how it was called thanks to the good old 90's cartoons (and prior's) mesmerizing scenes.

I've gone through several blog names, I can't even remember many of them now, but they were all completely about the same thing: Hypnosis & beautiful girls.

And now after years of denying the part of me that didn't only want to own a hot and docile hypno slave, but also wanted to become one, I finally decided to create this little blog, as I accept more and more every day how much I enjoy listening to files and letting them reshape my thoughts, interests, will and self along with all the content and beautiful people I find here in Tumblr.

Right now what made me create this blog is that the files are making me feel really good and changing me in ways I didn't expect, and although I can openly say that I'm a little scared and sometimes put up some resistance, each day I enjoy it more and find more time to experience it and just let go.

Triggers:

Good girl / boy: Intense pleasure and increased suggestibility

Good doll: Intense pleasure and I behave and feel like a childish doll

Snaps: Intense arousal while commanding me to sleep and sink

Ragdoll: I go limp like a ragdoll

Spirals: Arousal and mindlessness

Pendulums: Confusion, sleepiness and dropping deep

Blank: Mindlessness

There might be more I'm not aware of from files and long time exposure to hypno media.

Feel free to use them and give me new ones.

Note: If I don't like them or they go against my pointers, they will not work. Don't try to go around it if I say no.

Some pointers:

Just to make it clear, I'm not a "sissy" and I will seriously block you and probably publicly roast you if you insinuate and bother me about it.

What I'm into:

Hypnosis

Mind control

Reprogramming

Dollification

Obedience (within reason)

Current fantasy/goal is to be able to transform and see myself as a woman using a very specific trigger, becoming able to switch between my normal self and an ideal female version of myself anytime. 🩷

What I'm not into:

IQ reduction

Non-consensual enslavement

Forceful douchebags

Anything involving body fluids other than drool and cum

Gore & hardcore violent stuff

Rule #1: Do not ask for pictures, videos or audios of me.

With that said, feel free to write me and sen asks. I prefer asks because I take really long answering DMs and people can become somewhat demanding about it, which I cannot really indulge.

If you want to know anything about me, try to hypnotize me, say a friendly greeting to me or the community or who knows, even feeling generous and help out a bit, feel free to send an Ask and I'll reply to you as soon as I can ✨

-------------------------------------------------------------`, I've changed so much since I posted this first omg I feel so so amazing! ,‘-

------------------------------------------------------------

Files I can't go a day without:

• Listen

• Good girls rub hypnosis

• Obey & Do your Chores

Good girls suck

Drip Drop Snap Pop

Become stoopid for men

------------------------------------------------------------

I'm a bit unsure about this but i made a ko-fi account in case any of you would like helping me a bit to buy toys hehe! 💖 • https://ko-fi.com/emmadoll_abwshd

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor. (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic rivals AU])

Babe wake up, new series just dropped! This is not proofread btw

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, Miguel being jealous? (If you squint), i am mexican but my Spanish sucks so apologies I’m advance, Phantom of the Opera spoilers (???? Through I’d throw it out there)

Word count: 3k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 1:The world was on fire

—

“Love me or hate me, Both are in my favor. If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart. If you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind.”

The quote was etched into the front of your red hardcover notebook, with gold details covering the edges of the front. The black ink was oddly neat despite how deep you had to indent the words over and over on the cover. Miguel has noticed that you would always write a beautifully tragic quote on the front of all your English notebooks every year.

Last year, the quote was, “Love is blind, and lovers cannot see.”

For sophomore year, “She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool.”

And for freshman year it was, “‘I miss her.’ ‘You’re dead.’ ‘Even in death, I mourn her.’”

The first time Miguel saw it was when you both were in the 7th grade, being paired up to write a report about some random novel that Miguel couldn’t remember the name of. You had pulled out your notebook, that year it was a dark forest green, with the quote being, “But just because I’m not going to wish for it doesn't mean the moth can ignore the flame. It’s in the moth's blood.”

Miguel’s dark maroon eyes rolled to the back of his head, it was almost pretentious he thought, a way to show off how “artsy” you are. He allowed a scoff to escape his plump lips, you simply ignored him as you began to flip through your notes.

You were much more into history, the arts and most of all, Literature, while Miguel was more into science and math. Miguel didn’t understand why you loved it so much, he didn’t think your favorite subjects were nearly as important as his. Who cares what some dead poet wrote a thousand years ago, when he could be the next to make a big scientific discovery? Like time travel or curing cancer. Sure, Miguel still did the work in english and history, and for someone who didn't care for it, he would always do so well, and that drove you up the wall, but Miguel could say the same about you with math and science. Miguel would always tune you out when you would ramble on about some new book you were reading to your friends, or would ignore the way your eyebrow would furrow together and your teeth would bite down on your lips when you’d get to a particularly good spot in your novel, stopping every once and a while to annotate, would scoff at the the way your eyes would stare at piece of art with such fascination and wonder when the class would go to a field trip to an art museum, groan at how’d you always talk about the beauty of old gothic architecture, talking about how the beauty of the buildings was almost tragic.

The key word, would.

As you two grew older, and your competitiveness in your grades became more intense, Miguel couldn’t help but start to wonder what goes through that pretty little head of yours. He wanted to see how the deep corners of your mind worked. What made your brain tick, maybe if he saw the world through your perspective, he would understand you more.

Your manicured hand grabbed your notebook by the bloody red spine, gently gripping it before placing it into your bag, and zipping it up. Slinging it over your shoulder as you turn to talk to your friend who sat next to you, before you both made your way out of the AP English classroom.

You and Miguel had been attending the same classes since you transferred in the 6th grade, both of you attend one of Nueva York’s most prestigious and high-end boarding schools. At first, Miguel didn’t pay you any mind, figured you were just another spoiled brat with daddy’s money, and a trust fund big enough to last you until you find some poor unsuspecting fool to ask for your hand and make you into a trophy wife, like most of the girls who attend the school. But it wasn’t until you had beat his score later that year on the mid-year school wide testing did you get his attention. He could remember it like it was yesterday, he was sitting in class with a near perfect score of 97% written on top of his test answer sheet, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he slid the paper over to his left where Peter Parker had sat.

“I swear man, you’re like, a genius.” Peter grumbled to Miguel as he glanced at his friend’s paper, before at his own which had 78% written at the top. Peter’s hand went up to pat Miguel on the back, but before Miguel could reply, just bearly in earshot, he had heard an unfamiliar voice speak.

“Yeah I got a 99, I wasn’t expecting…” Miguel didn’t catch the rest, but the first part was enough for his whole body to feel hot all over, and make his stomach twist in discomfort. He felt like he was about to go into a state of shock, or rather he was already entering one. He’s never had someone top before, if felt like he was dreaming, well, maybe having a nightmare was a better way to describe it. He couldn’t remember how long he had sat at his desk afterwards, in a weird state of disassociation until Peter had pulled him back to reality. He swore to himself, after that moment he’d never let you top him again.

But that was a hard promise to keep. Because whether he'd like to admit it or not, you were good, always keeping him on his toes. You were almost like a breath of fresh air for him, albeit a painful one, like the first shallow breath after almost drowning. Before you , Miguel was growing content, growing bored, no other student was anywhere close to his GPA, even the second best at the time, he felt simply untouchable, but then you came along, and you changed everything for him.

At first, he saw you more as a pest, an annoying little fly that kept buzzing around no matter how many times he had tried to swat you away. Upon your first time formally meeting with Miguel, you were polite and civil, the kindest smile on your face as you stuck your hand out for him to shake as you introduced yourself to him. Miguel just glanced at your hand with a sour, unamused expression on his face, before his eyes wandered back up to your face and he just let out a noise that was a mix between a grunt and a scoff before turning and walking away, leaving you confused and a little bit hurt from his unfriendly and quite frankly rude actions, you decided to just brush it off, maybe he was having a bad day and wasn’t in a good mood. So a few days later you tried to approached him again in hopes for a better interaction, only for those hopes to get squashed when he basically told you to fuck off, rolling his eyes and ignoring your presence once again as he walked past you, “accidentally” shouldering you in the process. You decided to stop trying to be nice to him after that.

For about the first year since you transferred, you and Miguel simply pretended the other didn’t exist, neither would approach or interact with the other unless absolutely necessary, the only constant reminders of each other's presence was when one would beat the other during tests, report cards, etc. Eventually the plain out ignoring shifted to fleeting glares and glances, eye rolls and snarky remarks muttered under both of your breaths, both of yours already rocky relationship with each other becoming more and more intense and open as you both got older, neither finding the energy to even attempt to tolerate the others presence anymore. So now you and him were stuck in this repetitive circle with each other, but neither of you were doing anything to stop it.

—

“I’ve already told you Gabe, I’m not going to give you my notes from last year. Read the book like everyone else.” Miguel sighed, stuffing his free hand in his pocket, his other hand holding onto his backpack strap, walking to the housing building across the campus of Nueva York’s Preparatory Academy, where he and his younger brother shared a room.

“But Miggy!” Gabriel whined, his lips coming out in a pout, and Miguel’s nose scrunched in annoyance at both the nickname and the high-pitch tone of his brother's whine. “What’s the point of me being brothers with one of the top students at this school if I can’t steal your notes! Besides, I've tried and I just can’t get into it. Who would have thought that Frankenstein would be such a boring book, and don’t get me started on how the paragraphs are set up!”

“And that’s my problem because?” Miguel’s eyebrow quirked up, sending Gabriel an unamused look.

“Look Miguel, you might not get it from my point of view, but it’s very difficult for me, being your brother. From an academic standpoint I mean. The teachers expect me to have the same intelligence as you. I'm not stupid, don’t get me wrong, I’m just not on the same playing field as you. Also, I don’t like reading.” Gabriel shrugged.

“And what makes you think that I do?” Miguel retorted with an eyeroll, opening the glass doors to the housing building for his brother before stepping in himself and shutting the door behind him.

“Well didn't you get an A+ on your report about the book last year?”

“No. I got an A-.” Miguel grumbled, and after a moment, Gabriel’s expression perked up a bit, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head.

“Oh riiight, that one girl got an A+, what was her name again?” Gabriel said in an almost teasing tone, before throwing out various names at Miguel that were similar to yours, obvious bait to see if his brother would bite, and he did.

“It’s (Y/N).” Miguel corrected with a hash glare.

“Oh, right, right.” Gabriel’s lips went up in a slight smirk, his hands going into his pockets to fish out the keys to their shared dorm room. “Maybe I can ask her to help me, I mean she’s a bookworm, right?”

Miguel didn’t answer the question, not completely sure if it was rhetorical or not, choosing to stay silent as they finally stopped in front of their room.

“I could ask for her notes, maybe take her out for some coffee as a thank you.” Miguel’s face scrunched with annoyance at the implication, his brother knew how much you two disliked each other, and a more sound part of his mind was telling himself that his little brother was just pulling at his leg, but that didn’t stop him from the draggers he glared at Gabriel.

“Don’t even think about it. Hasta la mira mal a esa niña, y estás muerto. ¿Entiendes?” Miguel hissed, his voice dropping an octave with the threat. (If you even look at that girl wrong, you’re dead. Got it?”)

Despite his older brother’s threats, Gabriel’s smirk only turned into a wide grin, before he put his hands up as I sigh of surrender, his keys dangling with the motion before he unlocked the door, and walked into the room, Miguel following closing the door behind him.

—

“I don't understand anything about this, (Y/N).” Your friend, Mary Jane, or MJ for short, groaned as you both sat down in one of the school's many libraries, school supplies sprawled on top of the mahogany desk. It was fairly empty, today, but you both took space in one of the empty study rooms to keep from making too much of a disruption from anyone else who might go in, the repeated sound of rapid tapping of MJ’s mechanical pencil hitting the desk as you catch her biting her bottom lip in frustration.

“I know.” You giggled with a small smile, putting your hand on her forearm in an attempt to comfort her. You both have been at it for about 3 hours now, your English teacher had assigned everyone to write a 2,000 word essay about the book being read in class Romeo and Juliet. You’ve already read and watched the play a million times so you knew the back of your hand.

“Like I understand that, they fall and love and die and stuff, but all the jokes and the symbolism and stuff-“

“That’s why I’m here, MJ.” You grinned at your friend, and she just scoffed at you with a friendly smile, a smile you returned, before getting up from your seat with a small stretch. “I’ll be right back, I'm going to go stretch my legs.” You told her, which only got you a hum in response, before you slipped out of the small room. No matter how much time you’ve spent in this specific library, (it’s your favorite one) you’ll never get tired of the earth and wood-like tones that filled your senses whenever you would enter in the building, the four old walls always filled you with such warmth, they were like a second home for you. You let out a deep content exhale as your black Mary Jane heels tapping quietly against the old wooden tiles of the library floor. Mindlessly wandering with no real destination in mind, but making sure you don’t stray too far from the study room, it wasn’t difficult to lose your sense of direction in the make-shift corridors made from old bookshelves. You turn a corner without thinking, a hand goes up , gently brushing the spines of the books as you continue walking. What genre section were you in?

Your steps came to a halt, taking a step closer to the shelf as you grabbed the book your hand was resting on. Your lips came up in a soft small smile as you read the title of the book in your hands.

The phantom of the opera.

Oh how you loved the story, you’ve watched both the movie renditions and the stage version countless times, but you’ve read the novel more than you’ve watched all three combined, but your copy sadly got ruined when you dropped it in a puddle of water while on a walk, and haven’t had the time to get a new copy. Was it bad that if you were in Christine’s shoes, you would have picked Erik over Raoul?

Your fingertips opened the door, flipping the pages until you landed on the page you were looking for.

Hardly breathing, he went up to the dressing-room and, with his ear to the door to catch her reply, prepared to knock. But his hand dropped. He had heard a man's voice in the dressing-room, saying, in a curiously masterful tone:

"Christine, you must love me!"

And Christine's voice, infinitely sad and trembling, as though accompanied by tears, replied:

"How can you talk like that? When I sing only for you!"

Raoul leaned against the panel to ease his pain.

His heart, which had seemed gone-

“Why am I not surprised I’d find you here?” The sudden words interrupted your reading. You didn’t need to lift your eyes to know the source of the voice, the slight accent and the deadpan tone gave it away.

“Hello to you too, O’Hara.” You replied, your eyes not lifting, your hand flipping to the next page despite no longer reading the words on the pages anymore, you weren’t going to give Miguel the satisfaction of knowing he had your attention. The act didn’t last very long though when his finger went up to lift the book up to read the cover, your gaze going up to finally look up at him, a bored expression on your face, a tsk leaving his mouth when he realized what you were reading.

“What?” You question him, wanting to know what that reaction meant, you closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

His lips come up to a smug smirk.

“That you find that shit romantic.” He stated like he knew it was a fact, and you’d rather die than admit to him that you did, in fact, find it romantic. “Don’t act like you don’t, I can read you like a book. No pun intended.”

Your face came to a scowl, instead of entertaining him with a response, you crossed your arms and slightly leaned against the bookshelf behind you.

“What are you even doing here Miguel? You don’t even like reading.” He didn’t entertain your question with a response either, rather he just shrugged, and took a step closer, his hand going up to rest against the self, his hand was right next to your head.

“Do me a favor?” He asked, but his tone came out more like it was a suggestion rather than a request.

“Why would I do that?” You scoffed.

“Don’t make me beg, muñeca.” His tone dropped an octave. Despite the pet name, his voice was filled with nothing but coldness. (Doll)

“Don’t give me ideas.” You teased. Your lips twitched up slightly.

“If my brother comes to you and asks to take you out, go ahead and say no.” That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, but you slowly nodded your head regardless, deciding to not ask what his brother said to him that would make him come up to you about that. His hand came back down to his side as he took a step back “Good. How’s the essay coming?”

The sudden topic change you off guard a bit, but you quickly recovered, since it was something you’d both been more used to talking about, your studies.

“I’m almost done, I’ve mostly been just helping MJ with hers.” You explained, as you stood up straight again. “You?”

“Same, if it weren’t for Peter I probably would already be finished with it.”

“Don’t stress about it too much, O’Hara.”

“Oh, why not?”

You smiled.

“Because I'm gonna get a better grade on my paper anyways.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini12

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 21

Description: After your almost disastrous encounter in the O'Hara household, you spend some time debriefing with Janey, and Miguel asks for a second date.

Pt 22

So, you what, jumped out a window?” Janey drawls, her expression both intrigued and unamused, her image freezing for a second as she moves to a part of her apartment with better Wi-Fi.

“No, I hid in his bathroom until he’d convinced Gabi to go play in her room, then sprinted into my own. Janey, it was so embarrassing, I looked like a fucking toaster strudel.”

Janey chokes on her drink. “Not a toaster strudel…”

You bury your face in your hands. “I seriously have a problem, like I need to stay away from him. That cannot happen again, it just can’t.”

A text pops up on your phone, making it vibrate.

Mr. O’Hara: Hey, I’ve been thinking about yesterday and I acted inappropriately, could I take you to dinner tonight, to make up for it? I know a place, it’s a bit out of the way, but there’s no chance anyone from Gabi’s school will see us.

You changed his name back from Miguel to Mr. O’Hara, wanting to remind yourself of the professional boundaries.

“Y/N?” Janey asks, waving her hand, trying to catch your attention.

“Yeah, sorry, anyways, I need to get a handle on myself, I swear I haven’t been this…ya know…in ages.”

Mr. O’Hara: My treat, obviously. I think I make three times what you make.

Mr. O’Hara: Shit, sorry that was rude.

Mr. O’Hara: Anyways let me know.

“I mean, technically there’s nothing in the rules that say you can’t date a parent, it’s just frowned upon.”

Y/N: I’d love to pick me up at six?

Mr. O’Hara: Absolutely, I’ll see you then.

“Yeah, but still.” You glance at the clock, it’s five ten, you definitely need to start getting ready. You pick up your phone and move into your bathroom, continuing to chat with Janey as you get ready.

Six o’clock on the dot, Miguel is at your door. He’s dressed casually, which is a relief because so are you.

He hands you a bouquet of flowers, roses, a bit basic, but beautiful. “Again, my apologies, and I’m glad you’re letting me take you out, I really do like you, y/n, as cheesy as that sounds.”

You take the flowers and quickly put them in a vase before following Miguel down to the parking garage.

It’s a long drive, maybe an hour from your place, but once you arrive you understand.

It’s a small restaurant out of the city, a bit run down, but the neon sign is bright, and you can already smell food.

“This is the best Mexican food in Neuva York and the surrounding area, my mother used to take my brother and I here on our birthdays.” He explains as he opens the door for you.

The restaurant is beautiful, hand painted murals, wood carved booths, warm lighting, and soft music streaming through the speakers hidden amongst the beams that hold up the ceiling.

Once you’re seated and the waitress takes your order, you sip on your water awkwardly. It’s been a while since you’ve been on an actual date.

“Do you like Mexican food?” Miguel asks, looking at the drink menu, his eyes darting to your face every other second.

“Yeah, yeah, my mom is actually from Texas, so we’d get Tex-Mex every time we went to visit her family. I know it’s not the same thing, but…”

“Gabi said your mom has lived in Nueva York her whole life?” Miguel’s eyebrows furrow and you bite your lip.

“Oh umm, so my mother, was born and raised in Nueva York, but my stepmom is from Texas. She married my dad when I was a baby, she’s basically the only mom I’ve actually had. My bio mother sued for joint custody when I was a kid, but I…I didn’t want to live with her. Scheduled visits were enough for me.” You explain, cursing yourself for even mentioning your biological mother to Gabi.

It was a rough day for her, after you learned about her mom from Melissa. You only told her to make her feel better, to let her know she wasn’t alone, but now you were kind of regretting it…

“I don’t talk about her much, she’s—she’s just a lot.” You wave your hand in the air dismissively and plaster on a smile.

“I thought my stepfather was my dad until I went to high school.” Miguel admits, setting down the drink menu.

“Oh?” You’re a little shocked, but hey, you’ve almost fucked multiple times, you’re close enough to share childhood traumas.

“My boss is my father, my mother had an affair with him, I have a half-sister, Monica who is a notorious gossip, but might be my best friend, maybe my only friend? I’ve got coworkers I occasionally get drinks with but…”

You giggle, half at the way he says it, half out of nerves. “Sorry, sorry, please go on.”

He gives you a sheepish smile. “It’s pathetic, I know, a grown man whose best friend is his sister.”

“No, no, I think it’s sweet.” You reassure him.

“And what about you? Siblings? Friends?” Miguel scoops some salsa onto a chip.

“I’ve got a younger brother, he’s a pilot, never around, always sending photos from exotic places, and then Janey, she teaches with me, and she’s my best friend.” You stir the queso in front of you with the spoon provided, watching as the jalapeños sink into the cheese.

Miguel nods. “The tiny black woman with the brightly colored outfits?”

“Everyone is tiny compared to you. But yes, she is short.” You defend Janey playfully, knowing Miguel doesn’t mean anything by it.

“It’s not my fault I was blessed with the stature of a Greek god.” Miguel shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You roll your eyes. “It must be so difficult for you.”

“It is, actually, do you know how many old ladies hit on me?”

You laugh at that, picturing giant, buff Miguel running from grandmothers chasing him down with their canes and walkers. “I am so sorry for your struggle.”

He laughs as well. “I appreciate it.”

“Is your mom still in Neuva York?” You ask, taking a bite of a queso covered chip.

“Yeah, I have her set up in this nice apartment, it’s quiet, she can get her groceries delivered to her if she wants, there’s a pool she and Gabi go swimming in, and she’s on the building’s HOA which is always entertaining.”

“I can’t imagine the stories apartment HOAs have to tell.”

Miguel pitches up his voice, laying on a thick Mexican accent. “Mijo you will never guess, the man upstairs, with the little dogs, a killer, the police came today, took him away. Dios nos salve a todos.”

“That means like God save us, right?” You ask, trying to remember what that Catholic dude from Law and Order: SVU used to say.

“Close, God save us all.” Miguel smiles at you, then the waitress when she sets your food down.

Your waitress’ face tints red, and you feel a wave of jealousy wash over you. You wait until she’s gone, then continue the conversation. “Wait, was he actually a murderer?”

Miguel chuckles. “No, his dogs have been killing birds, squirrels, and other small animals outside the building. He’s been cleaning them up, but apparently disposing of them in the wrong dumpster. Maintenance in the building just wanted to show him the right one to use.”

“Ah, I see.”

“My mother has a wild imagination; I think she gets bored sometimes.” Miguel says. “I should take Gabi to visit her more often but…”

“Being a secret superhero takes up a lot of time?” You joke in a hushed voice, looking around to make sure no one is paying attention.

“Exactly.” He takes a bite of his food, carnitas.

“Sure, keeps you out late, on the street, rooftops, balconies…” You trail off, taking a bite of your quesadilla.

Miguel swallows hard. “I like keeping people safe.”

You nod. “And you’re good at it, I’m glad to have a superhero living in my building.”

“Thank you.” He says softly.

For a moment, you wonder if anyone ever thanks Miguel for what he does. You’re sure people thank him when he saves them, but outside of that? When he’s just patrolling, watching over the city?

“Last time I talked to my mom, she was complaining about my dad keeps the house too cold, and that there’s nothing good on TV anymore.”

“She’s right, there’s nothing good on TV anymore.”

“There’s some good movie though, like that one that came out a bit ago, based on a comic book?” You wrack your brain, but can’t remember what it’s called.

“I only see the movies Gabi wants to see.” Miguel admits sheepishly.

“Well, good thing she’s got good taste.”

You both walk back to Miguel’s car, hands brushing against each other, pinkies almost linking then shying away at the last second.

“Thank you for this, it was nice.” You say, looking up at him, the moon a halo behind his head, dousing him in an ethereal glow.

“No, thank you, I know we’ve kind of gone about things backwards, and that you’re Gabi’s teacher, but I…I really do like you, y/n. I enjoy spending time with you, I like hearing your stories, and telling you mine…”

You take the plunge and link your hand with his. “I like spending time with you too Miguel.”

His fingers interlace with yours. “My work is having a gala in a few weeks, would you come with me? As my date?”

Janey is never going to let you live this down.

“Yeah, sure, sounds like fun.” You tell him, heart skipping a beat when he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it.

“I’ll give you more details as I get them, but I promise it will be a night to remember, even if all you remember is my coworkers getting drunk off their asses.”

You thank him when he opens the car door for you, then he slides into the driver’s seat.

Miguel walks you to your door, lingering in its frame as you hold each other’s gaze, silly lovesick smiles on your faces.

“I should go to bed.” You say, making no attempt to break away from his gaze.

“Me too.” Miguel echoes, also not moving an inch.

“Thank you, again, for dinner.”

“It’s no problem, I’d like to do it again if you’d let me?” He tilts his head to the side, a soft smile on his face.

“I’d like that.” You tell him before you finally take a step back and into your apartment. “Goodnight Miguel.”

He grabs your wrist, gently, reverently, and presses his lips to your palm, the warmth of his face feels nice of your cold hand, the slight stubble tickles your skin, and his lips are soft. “Goodnight y/n.” Then he releases you and turns to go into his own apartment.

You shut your door, face burning. How was it, that out of everything Miguel’s done, that’s what makes your head spin a thousand miles in every direction imaginable?

He really is something else, huh?

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @needsleep3000, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @blakeaha, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue , @marcelineormars

[r3starttt]

Hi Ren I absolutely luv luv your work!!!

I wanted to make a request on Ellie with a Mexican girlfriend yk ? Like a little blurb or head cannons or even a small one shot if possible 🥹🥹🥹 it would really make my day !!! It could be sfw or nsfw

Thank you very much!

Mwah besos !!! 🩷🧸

Bonita

ellie x mexican r!

a/n: lysm!!! besos 🩷 I’ve been wanting to write something about this for soooo long so I really appreciated this request

Warnings: none

Since she met you there was no day were she didn’t try to learn a new word in Spanish or ask you to teach her.

Her favorite words are the ones to curse of course.Those are also the ones she pronounces better.

She also shows a lot of interest in your culture. The food, the traditions, the clothes. She loves asking you about it because she knows you’re gonna tell her every detail.

And god, she absolutely adores the way your face lightens whenever you talk about Mexico. She looks at you with the must pretty puppy eyes ever.

“How do you say pretty in spanish?” “bonito” “You’re fucking boni-“ “Wait! Then it’s bonita, Im bonita” she nodded “extremely fucking Bonita” her pronunciation sucked so much but god, how bonita she was too.

She likes to celebrate all special dates in your way and learn about how is life like in Mexico. She’d always ask you to tell her about your experiences there when Ellie she can’t sleep.

“There’s no prom in Mexico?” she stopped the movie you two were watching, in complete shock. You shook your head “There’s something like that but it’s not really like prom”

She’s absolutely convinced Mexican food is the best food ever and gets confused at how the flavor changes even though it’s basically the same ingredients just in a different presentation.

“Aren’t tacos the same as these?” she pointed to the plate you’d just served her, they were enchiladas and it was the first time trying them “good point, I’ve never thought about it” you two stated at the plate, in silence “tacos have more verity though, and these have lots of sauce so, I guess they’re kinda similar but not really the same”

She just shrugged, already with food in her mouth. Once you took a bite too you could hear a hum, she had definitely liked them.

She can’t really choose what her favorite food is. However she really likes pozole and enchiladas of course, tacos too but she says it’s a basic answer. And even though most of the times food isn’t necessarily spicy she struggles sometimes because it’s too much for her.

She also finds it funny how your family calls her “güera” and insist that you teach her how to pronounce it properly.

At first she thought it was an insult and felt very awkward whenever she’d had to visit them but once she understood the meaning she found it cute.

———

“Babe, I’ve got a surprise for you” you murmur softly on her ear

You’ve been planning a trip to Mexico with your family since some months ago but didn’t want to tell her until if was official.

She groaned, still too sleepy to even understand what you were saying.

“Come on el, it’s also too late for you to keep sleeping” you rubbed her back, gently. Giving it some pats too.

She rubbed her eyes and sat on the bed. Half leaded eyes, plump lips, rosy cheeks and messy hair tied in a small ponytail. How pretty.

“We’re going to Mexico” her eyes sudden opened wide. She stared at you in pure confusion “Are you for real? When?” you nodded “Next month so… in two weeks or so. You excited?”

She didn’t respond. Instead she grabbed your face with her warm hands, pulling you closer to her and kissing every inch of your face. You giggled.

“I’m gonna eat like crazy” kiss “and I’m gonna spend all my money” kiss “and we’re going everywhere” kiss “and I’m gonna insult everybody” kiss

You slapped her shoulder softly, she let out a loud ‘owww’ and the kisses stopped

“Actually no, you cannot do that. Don’t even think about it” she rolled her eyes “I’m serious”

[its-pluto2]

A lot of people like to say radical feminists are white women and therefore white supremac*sts and whatnot. Have you not noticed that a lot of radical feminists aren't even white?

We're Mexican. We're Latin American. We're from India, from the Middle East, from Asia. We're from places where it is life and death to be a woman. Where we're targeted as criminals for protesting the injustice we live every day, where one late night might mean we won't return home, where our sex means a difference in how we're treated all our life in every aspect of it. Jobs, socializing, studies. Everything.

Take a look at Iran. At Mexico. At Korea. Do some research before you throw around words like white supremac*st and n*zi around like they mean nothing when you're talking about radical feminists, the women fighting and putting their lives on the line to stop all of this horrible, terrifying violence against us. Literally, google any of these countries next to the word "femicide" and open your eyes a little to the harsh truth (and I must warn you, if you do this, the results will be upsetting).

You guys like to tag radical feminism as this horrible trend that oppresses other movements when in reality, it's a handful of new, "progressive", "liberal" movements that are trying to demerit and oppress feminism and feminists, whether they're aware of it or not.

If your movement has to take away women's rights, you need to revise what it is you're fighting for and how you're doing it.

I am a radical feminist because I am tired of living in fear. I am tired of hearing in the news of another woman whose life was brutally ended simply because she was a woman.

We're not dying out here, we're being murdered. We're being discriminated, we're being denied safety and body autonomy and the right to choose over what happens to our bodies, we're unable to earn the same as a man for doing the same job, we're unable to express a strong character without being called manipulative or hysterical. We have so. much. bullshit to deal with simply because we are women.

And you still think our sole purpose is to target some random movement and some set of pronouns? No, honey, feminists, real feminists, have our priorities very clear.

What we don't like is that now, we have to be reduced to our organs and that we can't even freely call ourselves women because some people will be offended even by that. I cannot fathom how some people still don't realize the slap in the face that is calling women "uterus-havers" just to coddle other people. Use what pronouns you want, but don't take away women's right to call ourselves women - how absurd is that?! I can't call myself a women to not offend certain people!

Are you really telling me that, on top of having to deal with all of the risks that being a woman implies in my life, I have to not call myself a woman and instead use some odd, progressive term just so I don't offend you?

No. Enough is enough.

Women do not deserve to be silenced, on the verge of the year 2023, because other people with very specific needs and wants, want to be coddled by us. Fight for your rights, by all means, but don't try to take away ours just so you can feel better.

Get a grip on what feminism is, what it stands for, and understand that radical feminism only exists because movement after movement tries to crush everything we've fought for and everything we've achieved.

And, if you're a woman and claim to be libfem, or claim to hate feminism, or claim that feminism doesn't represent you, think again. You're only able to have access to a computer or a mobile platform to express your opinion, wear pants, and have access to basic education, among countless other privileges you take for granted, because of feminism.

I mean, come on. A woman wishing for another woman (e.g. "terfs") to be hurt and die? How awful do you have to be to wish that upon another woman? Who's the bad feminist in this scenario?

Women should support and help women before all else, because we're all each other has. You can coddle and favor men all you want, but heaven forbid, if you ever have to deal with sexual harassment, gender violence, anything related, those men you defend won't help you. They will blame you. The men who love women who hate feminism are the men who are most prone to causing harm to a woman for any reason, and you're coddling them by saying "Oh, feminism isn't about me! I believe in not all men! Death to radfems!!"

Think about that if you consider yourself "libfem" - it's a lie. It's a goddamn lie fabricated to coddle and submit to people who feel entitled to our social struggle, people who are so privileged already that they have to find problems and social causes and make up endless terms and pronouns and bullshit to justify it.

Nothing justifies you trying to silence feminism when, all over the world, no matter what country you look into, women are hunted and hurt simply because we are women.

Get that in your heads.

[mochinomnoms]

huh interesting! i don’t actually know that much about autism- what is it that makes u think that jade has it? i wanna know more about this headcannon of yours :DD also maybe high-functioning autism? idk, i was looking online and that seems kinda like it fits him?

also ur one of my favorite ppls online cause u always make me feel so welcomed hehe >.<

- >w<

aw youre so sweet! Im happy you feel so welcomed!

For Jade it's more cause I have it so I say he has it cause I want him to lol. Same vibe as me calling random anime characters latino just cause i can and that's the vibe I get (Yuuji Itadori is just the red hoodie mexican character in a different font and i cannot be told otherwise)

If we want to be specific about it, there's no real “high-functioning” autism as much as there are autistic people that are able to preform neurotypical behaviors with more ease. It's about the way you process information, and it shows up different for everyone. It's more like a color wheel with each color section filled out more or less depending on the person. But yeah, I just call him autistic cause i am and I like assigning things to my favorite characters lol

If we wanted to actually really assign a character as autistic, Kalim and Rook both fit the general criteria in different ways!

[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ part 9

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: don John still being himself an asshole, nsfw chapter map

You are so relieved, when at last you reach the end of the meal. 

But Juan calls Paul back, inviting him for a brandy and some manly conversation. You are wary to leave Paul alone with Juan, but you see that some unspoken challenge has been issued between them, some ridiculous testosterone-fueled thing you cannot fully understand the merit of.

Paul kisses your cheek, and says he’ll join you shortly. With a warning look at Juan, you acquiesce. Out of politeness doña Maria invites you to join a game of cards in the parlor, but you claim exhaustion, begging off. You see they are secretly relieved. At least you know your place, even if Juan seems strangely possessed by this uncharacteristic wave of generosity towards you.

If only they knew.

Paul follows Juan to his study, accepting the proffered libation in its crystal snifter. Only after the first sip does it occur to him he should hope it's not poisoned. He looks around the room, unsettled by the various dead animals stuffed into poses that are but a sad facsimile of what they once were. A huge brown bear looms in the corner, its dagger-like claws extended, its maw gaping wide in a snarl.

“My father shot him not far from here. He was the last we ever saw at Las Nubes, though once these mountains crawled with the beasts.”

“What a shame,” mused Paul.

“Is it? You wouldn’t think so, if you met one in the forest.”

“Maybe not,” Paul agrees begrudgingly.

“That is the difference, between those of us who live in the wilderness, relying upon ourselves. We do not hesitate to defend what is ours, when we have to. We look after our own.”

“I suppose I get that.”

“My family came here a long time ago, señor Sutton. With de Anza, in 1776. The same year your founding fathers signed your little declaración, far away from here.”

“Maybe. Like I said, I don’t know my people, or how long ago they came here,” Paul admits honestly.

Juan waves it off as inconsequential. 

“After the Mexican war and the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848, the gringos came, thinking they would take our land because they could, 160 acres at a time. Many Californios lost their land, but we were lucky we were able to prove our title through Mexico city and lawyers in Washington. But laws and lawyers cannot settle everything. We also did what we had to, to protect what is ours from the squatters. We always will protect what is ours.”

Paul nods, understanding that don Juan was not just talking about land. They were talking about you again, and especially after reading your diary earlier that day, he didn’t like the entitlement in this man’s tone one bit. 

“I feel the same way,” Paul answered. “That’s why I was fighting in Europe and Asia for the past four years…while you were growing your grapes and riding your ponies.” 

Don Juan just snorts at this attempt to call him a coward. “Your little war had nothing to do with us here.” 

“You might have felt differently, if Hitler and his Blitzkrieg came tearing over the hill with his sights on you.” 

Juan makes a sound through his teeth, as though it was an idiotic suggestion. “They were never going to make it this far.” 

Paul looks at him over his snifter with a raised eyebrow, thinking Because men like me risked our lives to stop them from doing it, but his innate sense of politeness prevents him, even now. 

“You may be right, señor.” He downs the last of his brandy. Potent stuff, and almost a shame to drink it so quickly. “Please excuse me. I suddenly have the urge to make love to my wife. Good night.”

The shot hits home, though Paul does not bother to watch the aftermath, setting down his snifter and quitting the room. Had he bothered to look back, he would have found don Juan’s fine features pulled in an expression of pure murder. 

***

You are beginning to get worried. 

You are wearing nothing but your silk night shift, and you started out on the bed in some misguided attempt to appear alluring. But the minutes ticked by, and by the time Paul shuffles in you are pacing the floor like an anxious animal. You can tell by the careful way he’s moving he’s a little drunk–the brandy don Pedro makes here is some potent stuff. You remember from when Juan used to sneak it for the two of you.

“Are you alright?” you ask, rising to greet him at the door and look him over, somehow unbelieving that he and don Juan didn’t get into a fight.

“Fine,” he answers with a half smile, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you snugly against him. “So much better now.” There’s a possessiveness in the way he grasps you–it titilates you more than you would like to admit.

“Paul…” you admonish, without a lick of gravity behind it.

He looks down at you with that half smile, a lock of hair in his eyes. “That man really does think he owns you…” Paul marvels, ducking to catch your lips in a sweet kiss. “But you don’t belong to him. You–” He kisses you again, those full lips sending sparks straight to your empty, aching, cunt. “Belong to me.” 

For now. 

Despite what you’d discussed earlier…you don’t have it in you to split hairs, when he looks at you like that in the low light, after a glass of very good wine at dinner, and…and the simple fact that deep down, he might absolutely be right. 

He kisses you then, really kisses you, and you feel yourself melting beneath his soft lips and strong hands.When his fingers bunch up the skirts of your nightie you hold up your arms in invitation, so that he may strip you bare. A low sound escapes him, as he runs his hands down your back, over your curves and the swell of your buttocks. There is something incredibly arousing, about pressing your naked body to his, while he is fully clothed. Slowly he walks you backwards, touching you and squeezing you and by the time the backs of your knees hit the bed you are already soaking wet for him. 

You try to reach for his clothing, his jacket, his tie, his trousers, anything to render him a little more bare, but with a knowing smile he just manhandles you back onto the bed, sinking to his knees to kiss you between your thighs before you can get in a single word edgewise.

You think he’s discovered your weakness now, and is completely using it to his advantage. What better way to make your mind go still, than his tongue on your clit with your legs slung over his broad shoulders? You are putty in his hands, so close to cumming in his mouth when he draws back, wiping his face on your thigh and smiling gently up at you, taking in the disheveled mess he’s made before him. 

He doesn’t say a word, tugging off his tie and tossing his jacket, shrugging out of his suspenders and unbuttoning his shirt, all while looking down at you with a warmth that makes you feel like you just might combust. You watch the show with a loving hunger, wanting him so much it hurts. 

You open like a flower beneath him as he crawls over you, sighing as he settles down, your curves and hard angles meeting in a way as though the universe designed you to fit together. He kisses your lips, melting you to the bone, and you know you would give this man anything he asked for in that moment. 

“Can I make love to you, y/n?” he asks as his hips find their rightful place between your thighs, the thick tip of his manhood hovering maddeningly at your weeping entrance.

“Please?”

You never realized how empty you were without him, until he glides inside you with a moan that raises gooseflesh all across your skin, reveling in wondrous stretch and burn of his length buried in your needy flesh. You cannot stop yourself from thinking, this is the way you are meant to be. 

You find a rhythm together that is older than time, his claiming mouth upon you and his body inside yours, taking you higher with every thrust, filling you with an impossible pleasure and more love in your heart than you think you can stand. You don’t have the presence of mind to remind him or negotiate over the finish. All you can think is how perfectly you fit together, and that you need him. 

This is the magic mother nature weaves, the cycle of life that keeps the species ever marching forward. Desire. That grinding need, driven by lust and love and that straining, desperate yearning for fulfillment. But it feels like more than that, in Paul’s arms. This pleasure feels cosmically ordained–if he is your high priest, then you are the vessel to carry it to God. With your leg wrapped around his hip and his thumb upon your swollen bud, you become nothing but gasping breath and shining nerve endings.

You could have wept, when after ruining you with another handful of deep thrusts, Paul withdraws to finish on your belly, writing his love upon your skin in thick creamy ropes of his spend. Gasping for breath, he collapses to the side, pressing his forehead to yours with a satisfied smile. “You feel…like heaven, y/n.”

You kiss him sweetly, boneless after your torrid lovemaking. “So do you.” 

You don’t know how you’ll ever feel complete without him again…and maybe you’re drunk on good wine and lovemaking, but that doesn’t scare you half as much as it did when this day started.  

Only after resting for a minute does he look down at your belly with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Thank you.”

As grateful as you are– you can't help  but think about how it almost felt incomplete, without him finishing inside you. What a cosmic torture. Somewhere...the gods are laughing at your hubris, that you thought you might escape the way they designed you, and this man it feels they made just for you. 

“Did I mention I’m kicking myself for not bringing any condoms?”

You chuckle with him. “Maybe…you could get me the towel?”

He lifts an eyebrow, looking at you marked with his seed for a moment longer with a primal heat in his eyes that curls your toes all over again. “Yeah.” He kisses you, before going to the washstand to clean himself, and brings you the damp rag. 

You fall asleep tangled together, your head on his shoulder and your legs entwined. You can’t help but feel that life can’t get any sweeter, than ending the day in Paul Sutton’s arms.

[callmedylan]

some more security waiter + slight ness and Susie sibling AU headcanons while I work on more fazgang AU art

Ness is the type to play music when he wakes up to help energize himself, doesn’t help that he wakes up at around 5:30 AM and Mike has to deal with the loud ass musical theater music until ness leaves for work

ness has always loved theorizing but started intensely theorizing after susie went missing. Mike just has to sit there and be like “idk ness…that seems a little far fetched” (everything ness is saying has happened and mike knows it:

Ness loves baking, he can’t cook for shit but he can cook. Mike is the opposite and can’t bake for crap. So mike is in charge of cooking meals and ness is in charge of making the birthday cakes for Abby’s bdays (and mikes cause ness is just like that)

Mike loves ness to death but he cannot stand musicals, he finds them quite annoying but Abby and ness love them so he puts his hatred for them aside.

Ness and Susie’s parents use to take them to the same camp grounds as mikes family. They were there the day Garret went missing and ness often says how he had to leave because “some kid got taken”. Ness insists that him and Mike met a few times at the camp grounds but Mike can’t remember it so he constantly denies it.

Mikes is the big spoon, when he holds on to something it helps ground him while he sleeps so he doesn’t have a nightmare. Ness doesn’t mind at all but considering he’s taller being the little spoon is definitely an awkward position sometimes. (Tall guy issues)

The first Christmas the trio spent together after ness moved in, Abby ran in at around 4 am and jumped on top of them while they were asleep and in bed to tell them that “Santa came” (Mike wasn’t happy.)

Ness loves to dance, Mike has two left feet, they make it work.

When hanging out with the fazgang, ness and Mike will text each other (even if they are in the same room)

One time ness was talking about susie and Abby said “oh I know Susie! She’s my friend!” (Mike cut her off before she could finish tho and internally panicked)

Ness is a muppets enthusiast, has all the movies and song tracks, and even owns some memorabilia.

Ness has a replica of the Kermit puppet that he sometimes uses and he once accidentally left it sitting upright on the kitchen counter and when Mike went to get a glass of water in the middle of the night he turned on the light and screamed not knowing what it was (ness won’t let him live it down).

Mike is half Mexican and knows Spanish and ness asks him to “speak Spanish to him” sometimes because he thinks it’s romantic. He’d do this for a month or two before he recognized Mike say the word “chicken” and when he asked Mike what he’s been saying to him for the last month Mike goes “oh whenever you tell me to speak Spanish to you I just repeat a recipe I know”

Ness uses a concerning amount of hair spray (almost to a toxic level) so Mike makes him open a window whenever he’s getting his hair ready.

Ness and Mike once went on a date and left Cory with Abby and Cory ended up falling asleep on the couch so Abby, not wanting to wake him but still wanting to talk to someone, took their phone line and called 911 (it’s the only number she knows) and Mike and ness had to cut their night short to come home to reprimand Abby on who she calls.

[strwhnn]

Have you heard that there are people who live in something called "survival mode"?

As Mitski said "I fell in love with a war, nobody told me it ended".

That's the current Roier, despite being a charismatic and playful person, he literally just came back from a war.

He killed his friends on several occasions, he killed the people he loved the most just to amuse an entity that wanted to see them fight each other, he got so used to blood that he ended up enjoying it.

And now, overnight, he returns "home."

He comes back with the fear that his husband has not shown up, with the fear that he is dead, and as always, he makes jokes about it. But we all know it already, it is obvious that he doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't want to talk about it, he doesn't want to remember that he stayed on that stupid island.

Roier has always been like that, even with his children.

And this is where Pepito comes in.

The first thing he does when he sees him, when he learns that he will be a father again, is to say that he can't get attached to him, not again, he can't allow another child to be taken away from him.

🌷;; Now, from here on will only come MY opinion, my perspective and how I see things. If you have anything to comment or would like to leave input, feel free to do so. Now, let's get started.

Roier has only raised strong children. Just like that, he has only fathered children who are not afraid of the world, who do not live in fear and who are brave little warriors.

That's the "Mexican way" in his own words, and it has always worked for him.

Bobby and Richarlyson, specifically Bobby (his first son), have always been brave, and have never let anyone on the island scare them, they have known how to keep their heads up even in dangerous situations.

Bobby, during his last ten minutes, never showed sadness, never showed regret, he was an adventurer and knew that bad things could happen, but that was not going to stop him.

Roier loved those children because they were a small reflection of himself.

Roier is brave, he is strong, he is funny, he is friendly and he can always bring a smile to everyone's face.

That Roier who months ago was going on adventures with his children, is now broken and shut down, having to take care of one more little one.

But this time it's not like always, this time it's not so easy. Pepito has shown himself to be slow, clumsy, small, fearful.

And he has to live, unfortunately, under the shadow of the people most loved by his now father.

Pepito arrived at the lowest point of his life, and he arrived when Roier already had a family made, a complete family.

Pepito arrived after Purgatory, after the most intense two weeks of his entire life, and he is a weak little egg, a little one who must be cared for, who cannot afford to be a hero.

For Roier this is something new, a new experience and something that can serve to calm his wild soul. He's even wiped the blood off his suit, he's not quite ready to wear red again but he's ready to at least make an attempt to get close to it.

Pepito, despite knowing that Roier is only waiting for the arrival of his other son, has already accepted him and loves him as his father, after all he never had one, and if he did he no longer remembers him. He lived alone for so long that now having someone else is wonderful.

Both, Pepito and Roier need each other, they have everything they need to help each other heal even for a moment. They both came from the same island and they both know how horrific it was, they can both support each other until one day they can have a normal life again.

So, Pepito will currently continue to live around memories that don't belong to him (Bobby's castle and town) but that doesn't mean he will be their replacement, he can't even come close to that, he will just be a new bond, a new dawn.

A breath after the storm.

This is my first post on Tumblr, English is not my first language so I probably have several mistakes :D anyway, I wanted to post something to test the application and nothing better than talking about one of my favorite QSMP characters ₊˚⊹