#have mercy on me I don't speak spanish.

[cyn-onym]

Miguel O'Hara Smut Headcannons

warning! - nsfw (marking/biting + condescension + c0ckwarming + size k!nk + manhandling + s3x positions mentions + overstim + breeding + impreg mentions + dumbification + smono). gender-neutral pronouns, but minor fem qualities mentioned (nicknames + undergarments).

RAHHHH. I told y'all I had something inappropriate to say.

▷ Miguel O'Hara is a man of many talents and accomplishments...and one of them is being a fiend in bed. But let's start out light. We all saw the trailers. This man has fangs and best believe he uses 'em. If he goes down on you be prepared to wear pants for the rest of the week because your hips and thighs will be littered with bite marks and scratches. All because he can't get enough of you and your taste.

▷ But as mean as Miguel may come off he can't help but treat you with kindness and respect, no matter what you do. So be scared. It makes punishing you all the worse. He'll either have you cumming back to back to back. All while lecturing you through each orgasm, "You know how upset that makes me." or he'll force you to cockwarm him until he finishes his work so he can do the latter. Sometimes he'll get a little too heated and lecture you in Spanish. "Mírate. Volverse tonto en mi polla? Contéstame nena? Hey, are you listening?!". He's so nice...but so mean :(

▷ Be even more scared when he's rewarding you. He'll give you some of the most eye-rolling, sheet-ripping, body-failing orgasms you've ever experienced. You'll be damn near ready to pass out and he'll just continue because your his baby and he can't help but spoil you for being/doing so good for him. "It's ok, I know. I know you can keep going, I got you." or "You're doing so well, mi amor, just like that." RAHHHH.

▷ Now let's move on to positions, but first, let's address the elephant in the room. This man is huge, and I mean that everywhere. His shoulders, his back, his.... The only thing small about this man is his waist let's be so fucking fr. And he uses his size to his advantage always looming over you and it honestly....turns him on. Being able to handle you and put you in any position, he pleases because you can't fight back or deny it, does a number on him. He's so sick for thinking like that :(

▷ With that being said his favorite positions are full nelson (because he just loves seeing you helpless and unable to fight back). Along with prone bone, and mating press (because he also loves pinning you down, being in control and giving you what you deserve).

▷ Which brings us to our next segment. This man has a breeding kink. Especially after losing his first child, but after a little convincing and therapy, he'd probably be willing to try for another...or more... Don't worry he'll unload load after load to make sure your thoroughly bred, and I imagine he loves the idea of a having a big family so....expect no rest "Just 1 more. One more. Linda, I promise." Knowing damn well he said 1 more, 3 more ago :(

▷ After his long days of saving civilians or working in his lab, he comes back late only to find you deep in sleep. He admires and coos over you (of course) but can't help but notice how your only wearing one of his t-shirts, and your panties...and you just so happen to be in the perfect position for him to pull your panties aside and slide in....and you can guessed what happened. But like any normal person you woke up, only for him to coo and tell you to go back to sleep which you obey. Only for you to wake up again to the sound of his choked/muffled moans above you with his claws tearing the pillow by your head.

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Fourteen - His Pretty, Little Wife

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

The next chapter is going to be the midway point, basically. We've still got so much more plot to come and I really don't know how long this story is going to be, it's already 25.5K long all together

1.8K words

Series Masterlist

Marie. The cook that Carlos fucked was called Marie.

It was easy for Y/N to find her; she didn’t think she would ever forget that face. When she walked down into the kitchens, Marie’s face went pale. She let out an alarmed squeak and went to hide behind another one of the cooks.

From the way Y/N was dressed, she didn’t blame Marie for hiding away. She was meant to be powerful and imposing, mirroring the aura her husband gave off. The long, black dress with the slit up the side of the skirt, and heeled boots. It was gorgeous, making Y/N look ever the part of the powerful mafia wife her mother once was.

“Relax, Marie,” Y/N said as she leaned against the worktop, staring at her.

The employee she was hiding behind cleared his throat and stepped out of the way, leaving Marie at Y/N’s mercy.

She gulped as she looked at the lady of the house. “Please, mi señora, no quise hacer daño,” she cried. She fell to her knees, clasping her hands together, tears springing to her eyes.

Y/N sucked in a breath. Her Spanish lessons had been going well enough that she could pick up a couple of words and peace together the sentence. Please, my lady, Marie had said, I meant no harm. She took a moment to formulate a response.

It may have made her appear weak, but Y/N didn’t care. “Marie, esta bien,” She said, unfolding her arms. (Marie, it is okay). “Tengo una propuesta para ti.” But this was where she stopped being able to speak to Marie in her native tongue.

She sucked in a deep breath. “Your sleeping with my husband is not something I blame you for, okay? If it had been me sleeping with another man, my husband would have had him killed.” Marie let out a cry. “But I don’t want to have you killed. I will not have you killed. What I want to do is to set you up, with enough money that you won’t need to work,” she said.

“Mi señora,” said Marie as she fell to her knees, gasping sobs leaving her lips.

“I’ll give you the money, enough to set you up for life, as long as you leave wordlessly and tell nobody where you’re going.”

Gulping, Marie nodded her head. She’d do as her lady asked, from fear she’d lose her life.

Carlos’s money was now Y/N’s money, too. She could do what she wanted with it, and what she wanted to do was set Marie up somewhere nice.

She took the money and found Marie somewhere to live. It was on the very edge of the Sainz territory, somewhere they’d never think to look. She gave Marie the money and helped her to escape in the dead of night.

Marie would never admit it, but she was grateful to señora Sainz, for helping her get away from this life of crime. It was no little girls dream to serve the biggest crime family in Spain, but, once you got in, there was no way out. Y/N was offering her a helping hand, and Marie jumped to take it.

Y/N made her way to Carlos’s office. She pushed past the men guarding the door, who no longer bothered to stop her, and took her seat at Carlos’s desk. In his chair, with his feet up on the top of the desk.

It was a risk, sitting in his seat, but it was a risk Y/N was willing to take. There was no telling how he would react when he came back in from the garden, to see her sitting in his seat.

But Y/N didn’t have to wait for very long. Carlos came back in from the garden, not paying much attention as he strode across his office.

But then he spied her, sitting at his desk. A smirk crossed his face. “Hello, my pretty, little wife,” he said, sitting in one of the seats on the other side of the desk. He leaned back as he stared at her. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Have you seen Marie recently?” Asked Y/N as she looked at him over the top of her boots.

Carlos let the smile drop from his face. “No, Y/N, I haven’t,” he answered.

“I wonder why that could be.”

It took Carlos a moment to realise what she meant. They’d played that game of chess nearly a week ago, the dots were hard to connect. But, once he got it, Carlos let that same smirk cross his face once ago. “Oh Dios mío,” he said with a shake of his head. “My pretty little wife had somebody killed. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Carlos liked it. For some unexplainable reason, Carlos liked it. He liked the fact that she had somebody killed. This wasn’t what Y/N expected. She didn’t really know what to do now. But she didn’t shift, didn’t move. She kept her gaze on Carlos, feet on the table. “You said you’d kill any man I slept with, so I thought I’d return the favour.”

“Did you know Marie had a family?” Carlos asked as he leaned back. “Her husband died, bless her, but she had two little boys. Mateo and Diego. I wonder what they will do without their mother. Well, I wonder how long they’ll last without her.”

As he said it, Carlos watched for Y/N’s reaction, and Y/N knew that. But it was hard to know how to react. Marie had already told her about Diego and Mateo, and Y/N had given her enough for the whole family to get away. But Carlos didn’t know that. He was expecting her to be distraught.

But that was what the old Y/N would have done, what the weak Y/N would have done.

She found the balance, picking at her nails as she said, “I didn’t know that,” she mumbled, no longer meeting his gaze.

Carlos smirked as he stood from his seat and straightened out his suit jacket. “No matter, mi amor, it is no concern of ours.” He pulled Y/N’s chair back, making her legs fall from the desk. Carlos kissed the top of her head and stood her up from the chair, taking her place. “You can stay with me, querida, sit on my lap while I have meetings,” he said, wearing a devilish grin.

Y/N quickly shook her head and rushed out of the office. What Carlos had just offered, all because he thought she had somebody killed, was that a step in the right direction? Was that evidence that Carlos was going to start respecting her? Only time would tell.

***

This was one of those rare instances where Carlos’s family didn’t join them for dinner. Family dinners was something Sainz was very passionate about, and he’d insisted they’d all meet at Carlos’s house while Y/N was settling in. But this was the last week where Carlos would host the dinner and soon they’d be returning to dinners at Sainz’s.

But tonight, there was no family dinner. Carlos still insisted he and Y/N ate together, though.

After her Spanish lesson, one of Carlos’s men came to get her. They’d begun to speak to her in Spanish, and Y/N had to try her best to understand them. If she couldn’t understand them, they’d try again in English, something she was grateful for.

Y/N stood from the table. “Gracias señora,” she said to her Spanish tutor and walked out of the library.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked out to the patio. She stood in front of the pool for just a second, looking at the reflection of the clouds in the sky. Every morning Carlos went for his daily swim, and Y/N would have been lying if she said she didn’t watch him.

She looked towards the table, where the kitchen staff were laying the food out on the table. It was a lot for two people, far too much. There was no sign of Maria as they laid the table.

No sign of her husband either.

But then Y/N looked towards the other side of the garden, towards the fire pit. It wasn’t lit, but Carlos was sat there, cigarette between his lips.

She strode towards him, walking across the patio, towards her husband. He looked up at his, dark eyes following her as she approached. “I didn’t know you smoked,” she said as she came to stand in front of him.

Carlos released the smoke from his lungs and looked up at his wife. He wrapped his arm around her place, pulling her close. “Does my pretty little wife not like it when I smoke?” He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. His face was level with her stomach, so close to…

Y/N shook her thoughts away. She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, ever step calculating. “Oh no, Carlos,” she said, slowly getting closer to him. “I couldn’t care less,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Standing up straight she walked away from him, hips swaying from side to side as she walked around the pool, making her way to the table.

She looked towards the golf course. Since she’d married Carlos, she hadn’t seen the golf course be used once. It was a favourite pastime of her brothers, back when he was allowed to have pastimes. If they were a normal couple, if they had married for love, Y/N was sure she would have gotten him to teach her some golf while she taught him how to play the perfect game of chess. But, instead, Y/N was left longing for that life, for the husband who would teach her golf and swim with her in the pool, who would stop smoking because she asked and hold her close as they sat around the fire pit.

Her eyes moved towards Carlos, watching as he finished the cigarette. She didn’t know when he had started calling her his pretty, little wife. But she wasn’t complaining. It made her knees weak, hearing those words leave his pretty lips.

Y/N watched as he stubbed out his cigarette and walked around the pool, sitting himself at the table opposite her. He wore that same amused smile as he began putting things on Y/N’s plate. Fuck, she wanted him. She wanted him so bad.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa23 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal

[cartierre]

YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL | cs55

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU carlos sainz x fem!reader

♡ liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 293,382 others

tagged: carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari

yourusername you're lucky red suits me

view all 2,348 comments

carlossainz55 red's your colour ⤷ yourusername we like it spicy in this household

charles_leclerc when is carlos inviting you to the paddock madame ⤷ yourusername already miss me? ⤷ user1 is she blatantly flirting with charles ⤷ user2 and people say carlos is the one exploiting her because of her young age? nah, that girl knows what she's doing

♡ liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 283,402 others

tagged: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari

yourusername alexa play 'the other woman' by lana del rey

view all 3,492 comments

carlossainz55 don't be overdramatic mi amor ⤷ yourusername i know you're calling charles babygirl behind my back ⤷ landonorris she got you there mate

user3 imagine having been a ferrari fan since you were young and manifasting that shit so bad you started dating a ferrari driver ⤷ yourusername that's exactly how it went

user4 i just realised carlos and y/n ain't even born in the same generation ⤷ user5 watch carlos entering his leonardo dicaprio era

♡ liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 298,294 others

yourusername did i run through an alley for 30min straight while charles and lando lit up the place with their iphone flashes for carlos to take good pictures of me? yes, yes i did.

view all 4,328 comments

charles_leclerc it was a whole workout ⤷ carlossainz55 i think i sweat more during that photoshoot than in a race ⤷ yourusername keep it up grandpas, lando didn't complain at all ⤷ landonorris the age difference

user6 them playing into their whole age gap thing gives me the actual ick ⤷ yourusername yk you can just unfollow?

♡ liked by yourusername, pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 532,845 others

tagged: yourusername

carlossainz55 mi luna, mi estrella, mi amor [my moon, my star, my love]

view all 5,473 comments

yourusername no hablo español [i don't speak spanish] ⤷ carlossainz55 te amo [i love you] ⤷ yourusername yo también te amo [i love you too] ⤷ yourusername yes i used google translate

user7 age differences aside, they're adorable ⤷ user8 heavy emphasis on age differences aside

♡ liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, f1 and 372,532 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yourusername dios mío, hace calor [oh my god, it's hot]

view all 2,304 comments

carlossainz55 i regret teaching you spanish ⤷ yourusername tú no [you do not]

user9 am i the only one imagining y/n asking carlos to teach her slang in spanish ⤷ user10 i bet he doesn't even speak much slang considering his age ⤷ user11 y'all make it sound like he's 55 and not 28

charles_leclerc now you only need to learn italian and french ⤷ yourusername no, grazie! non, merci! [no, thank you! in italian/french] ⤷ user12 multilingual queen

♡ liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 273,973 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yourusername young and beautiful (and sexy)

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[ktwritesstuff]

The Professor (Pedro Pascal smut inspired by SNL)

Title: The Professor Fandom: RPF: Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Pedro Pascal (professor of Latin American Studies) x Reader (bedraggled PhD candidate) Word Count: ~2000 Summary: As if that SNL skit wasn't going to launch a thousand smut fics... As always, lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes below the cut.

Notes: This is my first "real person fic," may God have mercy on my soul. Additionally, my Spanish is virtually non-existent; I've relied heavily on Google Translate and asking my coworkers questions on the sly, my apologies for any errors! As we all know, this is not a story about actual human Pedro Pascal, but the fictionalized version which lives rent free in our heads. And as proper fan girl culture dictates, we keep this shit locked down. But just in case:

This note is for actual human Pedro Pascal and Pedro Pascal only. I don't know why you would click "Read More" on a post clearly labeled "Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU" but if you have, I beg of you LOOK AWAY, SIR. LOOK AWAY. If you choose to proceed, I will not be responsible for any trauma you may suffer as a result. Thank you.

For everyone else, I give you:

The Professor

Professor Pedro Pascal was the head of the Latin American Studies department at your small college.  You had never been in his classes as an undergrad–Latin American Fiction and Poetry, and a special seminar on the Magical Realism of Isabel Allende–but it was well known around campus that his family had fled Pinochet when he was a child, which granted him unsurprising street cred among your communist-leaning circle of friends.  He had been appointed the interim director of the campus’s Literary Center–after his predecessor was ousted for exposing himself in a virtual meeting. 

As the Center’s Graduate Assistant Director, it meant although he wasn’t technically your boss, you were suddenly spending an annoying amount of time working around the throngs of freshman girls who flocked to his office hours.  You couldn’t really blame them.  He was, if not an outright heartthrob, a reasonably good-looking college professor.  A strong face, with a short, rugged beard, a striking Roman nose, and deep brown eyes with the most charming crow's feet.  He had a lean physique, with a hint of softness at the belly, just this side of a “dad bod.”

His modest good looks combined with a cheerful disposition and a penchant for quoting the love poetry of Pablo Neruda were like catnip for liberal arts majors.  And although you were a card-carrying bra-burning feminist, you weren’t entirely immune.

“Professor,” his office door was open, but you knocked on the frame.  

Pedro looked up from the stack of resumes you had been sent to review before the selection panel for a new director.

“Coffee?”

“Mi angelita,” he sighed, rising from his desk to graciously accept the warm cup from your hands.  “What time is the first candidate arriving?”

“Noon,” you said.  “You, me, Dr. Monroe, the Provost, and Assistant Dean are sitting on the interview panel.”

Pedro looked at his watch.  

“Shit,” he sighed.  “I have Intro to Creative Writing at 9:30.”

“I’ll set up the conference room,” you said as he shoved his papers into his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder, still carrying the open mug as he raced down the stairs.  

“Thank you, Angel.  Thank you!”

It was a six month process to find a new director.  Six months of staring across the conference table, chewing on the end of your pen, pretending not to be affected by the way he leaned in when you spoke and stroked his thumb across his lower lip in concentration.  Or the obscene way he spread his legs in a comfortable chair while speaking with candidates in front of a panel of students.  

And having to do it all over again when your first choice–a student favorite–declined the position, to stay in New Jersey of all things.  You knew Pedro was relieved to have reached a conclusion; he didn’t care for the administrative duties or politics.  He wanted to teach, to be with his students.  You admired that about him, he appreciated your organizational skills (and the fact that when you made coffee it counted as a meal.)  You worked well together, but now that was coming to an end. 

It was past 9pm and you had already closed up the Literary Center for the night, but Pedro was still in his office, reviewing students’ papers.

“I’m done for the night, Professor,” you said.  “Is there anything I can do to help you get out of here?”

“That depends,” he said, with a wry smile that had you convinced he was only half-kidding.  “How’s your Spanish?”

“Hmm,” you said, stepping into the light of the desk lamp.  “¿Dónde está la biblioteca? ¿Como estas?  Bien, gracias.  ¡Qué lluvia!  And that’s all I’ve got.”

Pedro chuckled.  “I’ve heard worse.”

“That and un tequila, por favor.”

“Tequila,” Pedro repeated, intrigued. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of Patron.  “That I can help you with.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Professor,” you deadpanned.  “I don’t know if you knew this, but alcohol is not permitted in academic buildings.”

"Lucky for me," he said, picking up the bottle. "I have tenure."

You laughed and Pedro laughed; you offered to run downstairs to retrieve a pair of glasses and a salt shaker from the kitchen while he finished grading papers in record speed.

“I worry about these kids,” Pedro said, three shots deep.  “I do!  The moment they hear something the least bit troubling, they refuse to engage with the material.  Our world exists in shades of gray.  They want things to be ideologically pure, when what they need is to learn to discern.  To question.  To decide!”

“I understand what you’re saying, Professor,” you said. 

“Pedro, please,” he interrupted you.  “Pedro.”  

“Pedro,” you repeated.  “I agree, but there’s no reason we need to elevate and spotlight the same tired canon of bigots, abusers, and dead white men year after year when there is so much more out there.”

Pedro downed another shot and pointed an accusing finger at you.  

“Look who’s talking,” he said.  “Your PhD is in Shakespeare Studies!”

“I know,” you laughed, pouring yourself another glass.   “I know, I’m a terrible person.”

“You are not,” he said, suddenly serious.  “You have an incredible mind and the most beautiful way of looking at the world.”

You felt languid and relaxed and warm.  You liked the way Pedro looked at you.  There was something undeniably romantic about getting drunk in the richly furnished office, with its leather armchairs and oak bookshelves, debating the merits of Nietzsche and bell hooks.   

“Okay,” you broke the silence.  “Okay, here’s a fun fact you can pass along to your successor.  There are 3 prints signed by Allen Ginsberg in this building, and you can see them all from this desk.”  

“There’s the one on the wall,” Pedro said, pointing to the framed portrait hanging above the bookshelf.  

“Yes,” you said, rising from your chair and moving to the other side of the desk.  “And there in the hallway, on the right, that's an excerpt from "Howl" they set in the printshop downstairs.”

You perched on the arm of his chair to get closer to his eye-level, pointing through the open door.  You slipped, nearly falling into his lap and he placed a hand on your back to steady you.  He smelled amazing, like old leather and warm spices.  

“And there, in the stairwell, you can just make out the top of his head on that linotype,” you explained.  “Do you see it?”

“I do.”

When you turned your head, Pedro was looking at you.  Perhaps it was the tequila, but you were almost certain he was staring at your lips, his eyes heavily lidded, smiling lazily.

“You look tired,” you warned.  You should have gotten up to leave, but you didn’t want to.  You didn’t want this warm, lovely feeling to ever end.  

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?” 

“Kissing you,” he said.  

You were almost surprised; you had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that your semester-long flirtation was a one-sided puppy crush.  You had been so busy with your research and recruiting and planning, you had forgotten somewhere along the way that you were a stone cold fox with tits and ass for days and enough sex appeal to blow the top off Mount St. Helens.

“You can,” you said, turning your body toward him.  “I don’t mind.” 

“I shouldn’t.”

“Fine then,” you turned to stand.

Pedro seized you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and into a long, slow kiss.  His lips were surprisingly soft and his mouth tasted like salt and lime as his tongue brushed into yours with careful, confident strokes.  

“That was nice,” your eyes fluttered open as Pedro finally pulled away.  “You’re a good kisser.”

“You, too,” Pedro said.  “Again?”

You tilted your chin, touching the point on your neck, just below your ear.  As Pedro leaned in, working the beginnings of a hickey into your neck, you guided his hands from your waist to your breasts.  You pressed against him, moving to straddle his thigh.

“More?” Pedro asked.

“Yes,” you panted. You braced yourself on the back of the chair, one hand on either side of his head, grinding against his leg, feeling hot and wet as he kneaded your breasts with reverent appreciation.

“Mi amor,” he breathed.

“Pedro,” you held his face, nipping at his bottom lip.  

“Dime, lo qué quieres.”

“Fuck.”  His accent went straight to your cunt.  You ran one hand up his thigh, groping at the crotch of his chinos. 

Pedro let out an obscene moan and hoisted you up onto his desk.  He slid his hands up your thighs, fingers slipping into your panties.  He ran his fingertips through your folds, tracing circles around the swollen nub of your clit with an absolute shit-eating grin.

“Qué lluvia.”

You howled with laughter.  “I know that one!  I know that one!” 

“A huevo.”   

Pedro rose from his chair, bunching your dress up around your waist.  You pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his pants, running your hands up the warm skin of his back.  

“Want you,” you sighed.  “Want you inside me.”         

“Whatever you want, Angelita.”  

Pedro pulled your underwear down to your ankles, pausing to retrieve a condom from the wallet in his back pocket, like an over-eager undergrad, pulling down his pants to roll it on.  He pressed the head of his cock against your clit.  You grabbed him by the ass, wrapping your legs around him to guide him into you.  

Pedro flicked his hips into you with short, quick strokes, sending jolts of energy through your core.

“More,” you pleaded breathlessly.  “Deeper.”

Pedro lifted your ankles onto his shoulders, pressing into you long and slow until you could feel him bumping against your cervix.  You gasped, reaching behind you, scrambling for leverage, knocking the computer monitor off the desk.

“Oh no!” You turned, trying to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

“It’s okay!” Pedro said, taking your face in his hands to guide your gaze back to his eyes.  “It’s a shitty computer.  It’s fine.”

You moaned, letting your head fall back, grabbing for his chest with one hand as he fucked you.

“So soft,” he moaned against your ear.  “So fucking good for me, Angel.”  

“Give me your hand,” you said, guiding his fingers back to your clit.  “Up and down, right there.  Oh God.”  

You grabbed Pedro’s shoulder to brace yourself.  

“I’m close,” he warned.

“Not yet,” you pleaded.  “Just a little more.”  

You could feel your own climax building inside you.  You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.  

“Oh God!”

Pedro came inside you with a gasp as your inner walls clenched around him.  He slowly withdrew, supporting your legs, and easing you onto your back, scattering papers and pens onto the floor.  He kissed your neck and your breasts as his hands explored the curves of your body. 

You woke the next morning on the couch in Pedro’s office.  You were lying on top of him; your head on his chest.  He had his arms around you, your head was pounding as you squinted into the daylight.

“We got fucked up last night?” you said.

“Yup.”  

“It was nice."

"It was," Pedro agreed, kissing the top of your head as you blinked sleep from your eyes. 

"What time is it?”

You grabbed his forearm, turning it so you could look at the face of his watch.  

“Oh shit,” you gasped.  “I have Freshman Seminar in half an hour.”

“I already missed my morning classes,” Pedro moaned, letting his head fall back against the armrest. 

“Do you want to explain to Dr. Monroe why I can’t teach her class?” you said, rising from the couch and searching the office floor for your underpants.

“No,” Pedro said.  “She scares me.”  

You pulled your underwear back on, finding your bag, you used the satin scarf tied around the handle to cover the love-bites blooming on your throat and chest.  You dabbed concealer under your eyes and added a fresh coat of red lipstick.  

“Would you like to have lunch together? Not at the Caf. Somewhere nice, like a date.” Pedro asked, sitting up.  He looked endearingly child-like with his bedhead and giant brown eyes.  

You paused, checking your reflection in your compact mirror.  

“Can we do that?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not,” he said.  “You were never my student and after this week we won’t even work together any more.”

“Oh,” you nodded.  “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I’ll pack things up here and meet you after class.”  

You smiled.  “I’ll see you then.”   

[rachlaw7]

Welcome to my blog!

Is this the first time you've seen my blog? Well, then let's get acquainted with my ocs, headcanons and a couple of rules that are simply impossible to do without.

OCS:

Rose smak (also it's me but I have a different name hehe)

Bday: 4 September 2006

height: 5'1" (155cm)

pronouns: she/her

My orientation: natural

Rose's orientation: bi

Can speak: Russian (native), English and Spanish?!?! (Mucho gracias lechuza verde)

Personality: anxious, sociophobic (but very active on the Internet), maybe kind?? (I don't know) very naive, I take everything to heart (so don't joke with me rudely)

History: Rose doesn't have any interesting story. She just exists in the world, that's all.

Interesting fact: Rose has her own OS, which she is shy of — Rachel Lawrence. (Actually, this is my first os, the very first Rachel, before Rachel the marshmallow appeared and how she became a full-fledged character)

Rachel the marshmallow

history: The story begins with Pizzahead playing with genetics, and accidentally spilled sugar on a DNA creation machine. The equipment created the marshmallow biomass, and at that moment Pizzahead decided to bring the experiment to an end, and created Rachel (however, he was able to do it only on the fifth attempt). Pizzahead was disappointed in her, thinking that she was too innocent to harm Peppino's Pizzeria in any way, but changed his mind when he saw her rabid and restless personalities (now he regrets that he created a child, which is why he avoids contact with her, flunking all sorts of projects to destroy the pizzeria).

HEADCANONS:

Ray: It's still the same Rachel, but now she's grown up, and now she has her own circus (of freak clones).

History: One day Pizzahead created clones, but he could not achieve a perfect copy of the original Peppino: someone immediately died after the clone came out of the wet environment, then the clone had extra limbs, holes, skin peeled off and so on. at that moment, Rachel noticed one interesting clone — FK2. Eventually they became friends, and Rachel wanted to give the "faulty" clones a home — the circus of clone freaks.

Interesting fact: Ray doesn't like being called "Rachel" because she thinks that name is too cute and childish

FK2: Ray's best friend.

Pizza crust (by @pizza-crust7

Raya (Rachel): The character of the mad marshmallow is changing to the opposite side. Raya is a calm and obedient girl.

Races tower (by @creat0rstudi0 )

Rachel: The little rabid werewolf

Mystical tower (by @golubichkalive )

Rachel: a lamb who doesn't know what "danger" is.

Rose: Bunny, just a perfect prey for some predator

Hell tower (by @alice-the-demon )

Rachel: A small and very aggressive demon created by Lucifer

Rose: Archangel of mercy, a very emotional angel (can cry with joy and sadness, but cannot anger)

I ALSO HAVE MY OWN RULES

1. Criticism of my headcannons, stories, and concepts is strictly prohibited. Even a joke. My blog is my comfort zone in which I torture what I want and I will be glad if you treat it with respect.

2. Also, do not use aggressive jokes against me, I am too naive and emotional, so I can take your jokes to heart and you will get banned

3. Of course, you can throw my art on any social network (even in pinterest, somewhere else), but always specify the author, or better yet, a link to various social media.

I also want to add finally that you can get banned even if you as a person are just uncomfortable or are you disgusting to me, and I have my right not to explain why and how. Choose simpler words and I will be friends with you ^^

Also, I'm not only in tumbrl!

Telegram: t.me/rachlaw7

Telegram channel: https://t.me/rachgram

Discord: Rachel Lawrence#5249

Discord server: https://discord.com/invite/PKDAYZ38Eq

YouTube channel!? (please don't go in there, it's my dark past. If you go in there, you'll get a dose of cringe): https://youtube.com/@rachlaw_7?si=rOW0jXsPcgpd_PdR

Art trades — OPEN

Art collab — OPEN

Requests — OPEN

Commission — NEVERMIND!

[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

Hey! big fan of your blog and knowledge :)

I was hesitant to ask this question on twitter cuz ppl there are easily offended and I am of different culture and genuinely curious to know a non-biased opinion without offending anyone.

why catalan is considered a language not a dialect since it is very similar to spanish?

I have a friend who lived in girona since childhood and she told me that, based on her knowledge of the country I was born in, that the difference between catalan and spanish is much less than the difference between some of the so many dialects we have in my country and we never considered any of them a language per say, just different dialects based on where you live. Some of them are even grammatically different and it is practically impossible to understand unless you were exposed to it in movies, tv shows, etc..

I asked this question to a spanish coworker once and his answer seemed a bit biased tbh, there is also badosa’s answer from that interview who claimed catalan not being a language as itself but I have noticed the controversy it created and did not understand why.

TIA and apologize in advance as well if I unintentionally said something rude or inappropriate up there.

haha, thanks anon! but don't ask this question of aitana or her parents! 😂 catalan is its own language and catalunya could be its own country! (as for paula badosa, quina vergonya!)

so i am not a linguist but you have asked a question that people who have been studying languages have debated forever. there's a common phrase that “a language is a dialect with an army and a navy,” which shows how politicized it can be.

but catalan is considered to be an independent language, not a dialect of spanish. it's similar to spanish because catalan is also a romance language, meaning they all share the same roots, just like portuguese and italian too!

let me ask you: spanish is very similar to italian and portuguese, so to you would italian and portuguese be dialects of spanish?! if i go to italy, i can basically get around even though i don't speak italian because there are lots of similarities between italian and spanish. however, i would not consider italian to be a dialect; rather it comes from the same ancestor language.

i view dialects in this way. if you are saying something, and i can understand you speaking the language without any problems, then it's a dialect (like mallorquin is a dialect of catalan). but if not, then it's a separate language. for example, if i go to sevilla and start speaking in catalan, then i don't automatically expect locals to understand what i am saying, even though they speak spanish there.

and beyond spanish, there are some similarities between catalan and france (another romance language!), but i definitely wouldn't consider catalan a dialect of french.

example: how to say the word "please"

catalan: si us plau

french: si vous plait

spanish: por favor

example: verb "to eat"

catalan: menjar

french: manger

spanish: comer

we can say the word gràcies for thank you in catalan, but we often say mercès/merci too.

so yeah, based on the various influences on catalan, i would not consider it a dialect of spanish. rather, it's a cousin of spanish, just like italian and portuguese because we all share the same roots.

hope this helps!

[project-icarus]

are all of your classes in the same classroom? cuz for me its like you get 5 minutes to scamper across the school and get to your next class. it's not like a break to talk with friends or anything its just now you gotta get to the next place. scamper bugs bunny style

most of them were.

sometimes Foreign Language Class was split into two, either English & Spanish, or like. it wasn't always called level 1 & level 2 bc at one point there was only level 2 & level 3 (don't question their logic) but im pretty sure it was always incidentally people who only ever studied English in school (can't speak English to save their lives) & people who studied English outside of school as well (already know what's being taught and have to sit through it anyway)

technically if you count the non official breaks (as in the time there was no teacher in the classroom due to one having left to a different classroom and the next one not having arrived yet) it was anywhere between -10 minutes (sometimes classes would end late bc teachers aren't fans of schedules) and 20 minutes (sometimes classes would start late bc teachers aren't fans of schedules)

we did have the one true official break though bc classes usually started at some variation of 7 AM. usually 7:15 but the latest was 7:30. at one school the one true official break was from 10 to 10:30 and then classes would end at 1 PM unless god hated you in which case lunch was at 1 PM and you had to speedrun your way to the nearest restaurant (the closest thing we had to a school cafeteria had a total of 6 tables with 4 chairs each best case scenario) and then you had to be back in the classroom by 2 PM aND THEN classes would go on until I think 3:40 PM and we'd have the one true break (afternoon version) until 4 PM bc apparently 20 minutes is good enough for these people. if god had mercy on your silly little soul classes would end at 4:50 PM. if he didn't they'd end at 5:40 PM. lastly, if god really hated your guts and wanted you to suffer classes ended at 6:30 PM. so that's about 11 hours of school. 10 if you don't count lunch, which I did.

tl;dr: yeah it was all in the same classroom lmao

[mueritos]

What’s been your experience as an exchange student in Barca like? Did you have to learn Catalan I’m curious about going but worried that only having limited Spanish and no Catalonian would be an issue

haiiii omg i love any chance i get to talk about my experience in bcn. So i wasnt an exchange student (I took classes at an international school for US students), but our program did have intro catalan sessions during our orientation.

While catalan would be helpful, it is not necessary to navigate Barcelona. The awesome thing about bcn is that it has a higher immigrant pop than other parts of spain, so there are a lot of people who don't even speak Spanish, much less Catalan, well. English is also spoken quite often, but I encourage you to practice your spanish. The best way to make a barcelonan like you is to try, and to especially try using some Catalan. Learning Hola, si us plau (please), bon dia (good morning), merci (thank you), de res (you're welcome), and adeu (bye) are most helpful. Try it out little by little at first, like ordering your food or coffee in spanish but say thank you or please in Catalan.

I rarely used Catalan but enjoyed hearing it. Nearly all of bcn also speaks Spanish (and some English), so you will have no problem communicating. Some tips; change your clock to 24 hr time if it's not in that yet before going to Spain, have key phrases in your head, and try not to ask any Barcelonan about Catalan independency (it might not go well for you but if you befriend locals and are curious, ask if its okay). Oh, and pickpocketing is huge, so be aware, always keep valuables in your front pants pockets (or inner coat pockets), and always have ur hands near or in your pockets when youre moving about the city or by a lot of people.

anyway, it makes me excited that you might be going to bcn :) you're going to love it! and i encourage you to practice your language as much as possible. so many people in my program refused to even speak Spanish while out. give it your best shot, eat lots of yummy food, and take advantage of the metro/train system to travel :)

[lilias42]

Salut, désolée que j’ai pas fait votre post chains (je sais pas comme ça dire en français)

Je suis curieuse, avez-vous joué à Fire Emblem en anglais ou français? Vous utilisez les noms anglaises des routes, mais vous préférez parler français.

J’ai supposé que vous avez joué en français avec voix anglaise, mais je veux être sûre.

Bonjour ! Merci pour la question ! Et ne t'inquiète pas, c'est pas grave ! Je suis la première à ne pas répondre aux post chain soit parce que j'oublie, soit parce j'y répond 10 ans en retard ! (c'est les jeux de tag où quand on se fait tagguer par quelqu'un, on doit répondre à une question / poster quelque chose, c'est ça ? J'avoue que je ne connais pas non plus le nom français, j'appelle ça des "jeux de questions" pour faire un nom qui me parle et englobe autant les post chains que les billets avec une liste de question) Ces post chain / jeu de question sont fait pour s'amuser, ça n'a pas de sens d'obliger les gens à les faire s'ils n'en ont pas envie ! Donc, ne t'en fais pas pour ça :)

Et j'ai joué à FE3H en français avec les voix anglaises. Même si je ne parle pas anglais et que j'ai beaucoup de difficulté avec, il y a parfois des mots que j'arrive à comprendre alors, je garde en anglais par défaut. Le seul jeu que j'ai fait avec les voix japonaises, ça doit être ma partie actuelle de "Monster Hunter Stories 2" mais, je l'avais déjà fait avec les voix anglaises.

Pour les noms de route, c'est simplement une question de fluidité et de clarté. Tout le monde utilise les noms anglais alors, même si j'écris en français, je garde les noms de route pour ne pas embrouiller les potentiels personnes anglophones qui passerait sur mon blog. Quand j'ai commencé à lire les billets sur 3H, je m'étais un peu perdue toute seule avec les noms des routes que je ne reconnaissais pas (surtout qu'avec le traducteur automatique, AM était parfois traduit "matin", et CF par "Mucoviscidose") jusqu'à ce que je tilte que c'était les abréviations anglais des noms des routes. En plus, à force de les voir, c'est les abréviations anglaises qui me viennent en premier. C'est donc plus simple pour tout le monde.

EN with Deepl (si c'est ce que tu préfères. Tu dis dans ton billet épinglé que tu parles autant anglais qu'espagnol alors, si tu préfères l'espagnol, je passerais mes réponses au Deepl espagnol pour t'éviter de devoir traduire aussi / if that's what you prefer. You say in your pinned post that you speak English as well as Spanish, so if you prefer Spanish, I'll pass on my answers to the Spanish Deepl so you don't have to translate too.) :

Hello ! Thanks for your question! And don't worry, it's no big deal! I'm the first not to reply to post chains either because I forget or because I'm 10 years late! (It's those tag games where when you get tagged by someone, you have to answer a question / post something, isn't it? I confess I don't know the French name either, I call them ‘jeux de questions’ to make a name that speaks to me and encompasses both post chains and posts with a list of questions) These post chains / jeux de question are for fun, there's no point in forcing people to do them if they don't want to! So don't worry about it :)

And I've played FE3H in French with English voices. Even though I don't speak English and I have a lot of trouble with it, there are sometimes words I can understand, so I keep it in English by default. The only game I've ever played with Japanese voices was my current game of Monster Hunter Stories 2, but I'd already played it with English voices.

As for the route names, it's simply a question of fluidity and clarity. Everyone uses English names, so even though I write in French, I keep the road names so as not to confuse potential English speakers who come across my blog. When I first started reading the posts on 3H, I got a bit lost on my own with the road names that I didn't recognise (especially as with the automatic translator, AM was sometimes translated as ‘matin’, and CF as ‘Mucoviscidose’) until I realised that they were the English abbreviations of the road names. What's more, as I keep seeing them, it's the English abbreviations that come to me first. So it's easier for everyone.

[siyurikspakvariisis]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Thank you for the tag, @optiwashere!

Tagging @seventhscorpio, @night-dark-woods, @linka-from-captain-planet and whoever wants to consider themselves tagged.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

15 works at time of recording.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

14,232 at time of recording. I'm a short story girlie.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, only BG3. Before this, I used to write for Destiny (and I can be tempted again if The Final Shape is any good/has some good Awoken food) and Overwatch (lol. lmao.) IDK why I gravitate to writing about videogames. I guess that video game writing is more "open-ended" and thus creates more nooks and crannies for me to get my fanfiction claws in?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Unsurprisingly, they're Overwatch ones, given that it's the largest fandom I've written for. 1. Thaw (Mercy/Pharah, 159 words, Explicit) 2. Theobroma (Mercy/Pharah, 390 words, General Audiences) 3. Liebesträume (Mercy/Pharah, 1824 words, General Audiences) 4. Our Lady of Mercy (Mercy/Moira, 972 words, Explicit) 5. to pretend (Nocturne/DJ!Shadowheart, 225 words, Explicit) Kind of feels like exposing an old shame, to link this here, lol. But hey, stats are very silly -- they say more about the popularity of the pairing than about the quality of the work, in this case.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! I am in the very awkward situation of someone posting comments on my destiny fics a long time after I published and I haven't responded but I think about responding a lot but the more time it passes the more awkward it is...

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Deliverance, arguably? Petra Venj gets Taken. So yeah. (The Savathûn tag is there because the fic was written back when we thought Savathûn had acquired the power to Take)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Liebesträume is, as per the notes, 100% high fructose fluff syrup.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

At time of recording, I haven't.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! The kind that doubles as character exploration. (although I have written pure self indulgent shit that I had to get out of my head somehow, like i rejoice in my sufferings for your sake)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't, at time of recording. There's a BG3/Destiny crossover that lives in my mind but haven't written anything for it (yet?) It's very self-indulgent.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, unless you count brainstorming with friends and me translating that to fic (pretty much how burn our effigies was born, actually!)

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

I... don't think I have an all time OTP or anything? I have, like, a fave for each fandom, that's it. And I'm also a multishipper, so... For BG3, my current obsession is Shadowheart/Nocturne.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I've been kicking around a thing about Petra Venj's exile in the City, but I struggle to make it a coherent, cohesive thing, instead of a bunch of Situations. Same for loss.pdf, tbh

16. What are your writing strengths?

I want to believe it's characterization. But I'm obviously biased.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting. Plotting. Plotting.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It's actually a huge pet peeve of mine lol at least when it comes to real-world languages. It's something that is often used to add some flavor to foreign characters ("No, mon cher, I expect you to die", said the Spy) in a way that doesn't match how multilingual people I know speak other languages! For example, when I'm talking in English I'm talking in English, when I'm talking in Spanish I'm talking in Spanish. I often forget how a word is said in one language but remember it in the other, or some grammar quirks from Spanish make their way into my English. I may be on a call with a friend and speaking in English while we play videogames, and I cuss in English in those cases -- unless we have been silent for a while, I have returned to thinking in Spanish, I'm startled when getting killed suddenly and I cuss in Spanish. Not to say it's 100% unheard of to hear examples like the Spy one above, it kind of makes me think of my Galician friends very intentionally dropping a carallo in a convo in Spanish to play the stereotype, lol

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I'm pretty sure I have some Final Fantasy X-2 and Doctor Who fics in some long-abandoned hard drive at my parents' house...

20. Favorite fic you've written?

have you read deliverance did you like deliverance will you read deliverance when will you read deliverance

[creative-kny-fics]

Heyy, a question, do you speak Spanish? Also, another request TwT Do you have tickle headcanons about Akaza? I don't see him too much as a lee in fics. My headcanons for him are that his stripes are ticklish and his worst spots are his armpits and ribs, idk, I think those are weak points for him idk why HAHAHA

Well yes! I speak Spanish! But hey, since Tumblr is an app where most of the blogs are in English, I had to adapt

Well if I have Akaza hc! It is that it is one of the most beautiful and tender UpperMoons! Especially when you tickle him!

Akaza has always been sensitive, especially since Koyuki couldn't help but tickle him because he had the cutest reactions!

His father and his teacher were no exception, every time Hakuji had a bad moment, bam! Tickle!

Although he forgot what was tickling after he turned into a devil, he immediately remembered when Douma decided to be a little shit and tickled him so much until Akaza's face turned as red as his hair.

Akaza may be very ticklish, but it doesn't mean that whoever tickles him (Douma) will get away unscathed, Akaza also has an ace up his sleeve.

His 'destructive death' is Akaza's best weapon against Douma, it is so fast and so precise that Douma can't help but beg for mercy just a few seconds later.

You didn't hear it from me, but the 'itsy bitsy spider' and 'this little piggy' are enough taunts to make Akaza nervous.

[arin-villa]

OC-tober day 10: Mercy. Prompts by @oc-tober2023 TW: previous choking, implied abuse. Drawing under the cut :P

It was three years ago that I moved here to Peru. I just came out of a two-and-a-half-year relationship. I am twenty-one years old and barely alive.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had ignored my message." I said to Jonan, my best friend. My only friend now that I think about it. "I should have listened to you when you told me to break up with him a year ago."

He sits in the bed beside me, and I look up at him from the floor. His shaggy haircut is both longer and shorter than the last time I saw him a year ago. It looks like he shaved the sides to leave a weird mullet thing. It fits him well.

"This is not on you, Mati." I laugh when he says that. "I mean it."

"That's not it!" I say between fits of laughter. "It's the nickname." He looks at me puzzlingly. We met in the first week of college here. Since I arrived, people have called me that for some reason.

"No one else calls me that," I explain. "The only place where people call me that is here." It's not funny, but I can't stop laughing. "Because I always hated that nickname." Once I stop laughing, I look at my hands for a second, then I turn to look at him.

"Did you shave your own hair?" I ask him, an idea forming.

"Yeah, like 3 weeks ago, I also bleached and dyed it purple all on my own," he answers casually. "Why do you ask?" I stare back at the wall, furrowing my brows.

"I need you to shave my hair." I tell him simply. After a few seconds of silence, I turn to look at him. "That's a good expression." He looks... confused? Maybe scared? Like I'm an alien speaking gibberish or maybe a threat.

"You love your hair." He states. I do love it, always wanted long hair. My parents forced me to keep it short to maintain an image. Fuck their image, frankly. "You've been growing it for years." I nod, and that makes my neck hurt, the doctor said it might be sore for some days.

"I will continue to let it grow," I continue looking at him. He stares back as if I was a puzzle. "I want to shave it to regrow it."

"Aren't you and your dad moving to Lima in 4 days?" He asks incredulously. I don't see how that has to do with anything.

"I am making a new self of myself." There is no other way of explaining it.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Matias Fowler will be dead, and in his wake will rise Ada Garcia." That does not clarify anything, it seems.

"Where does that come from?" He questions.

"The name or the rebirth thing?"

"Both," after a second he decides. "The name."

"My middle name is Adael. When I told my ex-boyfriend, James, he sometimes called me Ada. I think it's cute," I tell him. "I never liked my middle name before him, I was even ashamed of it."

Jonan stares at me before shrugging and getting up. He walks to his bathroom and gets out a razor machine kit.

"I don't want it buzzed to my skull." He nods and takes out the machine and a comb-looking thing you attach to it. He points to the wall so I turn around while he sits in the bed.

"So Matias Fowler is dead, then?" He asks as the buzzing of the machine starts.

In Spanish, there are two words for hair; "Pelo" and "cabello". Cabello refers to the hair in your skull, and pelo refers to any type of hair. The only thing that changes is where it is, and what it is attached to, but its name changes. It's nearly irrelevant, but it still matters.

"Yup," I say. "I don't want Don to find me." Don, who I should have broken up with a year ago, tried to kill me when he found me taking my things from his basement to leave. I'm afraid he will find me to finish the job.

"That's not the only reason, being a Fowler has led me to unhappiness, I want to change that. That’s why I will change it so Garcia. I have only known of Alejandro,” my biological father, “for like five years, but he has been a better dad than Patrick.” My adoptive father, husband of my mother. “It feels right to give him back that.” I am not exactly sure what that is, a sense of connection with me, maybe.

"Why change your first name too?" Strands of hair fall to the floor, they are quite long since my hair was reaching my shoulders.

"I might still use it. I just have been Matias for too long maybe." That makes no sense, but I don't care. "Legally, my name will be Ada."

"Why does your past self have to die?" He sure is asking a lot of questions.

"It was a mercy killing. He led a sad, sad life." I grab some of my hair.

"It wasn't that bad." He tries to comfort me.

"He was kicked out of his house at 17, bullied most of elementary school, and nearly choked to death at 21, among other things." A lot of other things

"Mercy kill." He agrees.

"Mercy kill." I repeat.

"We should have a funeral." He suggests.

"We should bury my hair." I add. "That will be his body."

"Or burn it."

"Or bury it." He boos behind me. "Burnt hair smells bad."

“How bad?”

“Extremely bad, clings to your clothes for weeks bad.” I say. Don’t ask how I know.

"We should bury it."

We don’t say much else. I sit quietly as he finishes buzzing my hair. This might be the last time we see each other, I don’t plan on coming back. He is planing on moving somewhere to finish his masters. I should feel sad, but it just feels like a great ending. Even though I am not one for optimism, I think I will be okay.

———

I did say he HAD to change his name.

Anyways we hate Don here. He was 29 when he met Matias who was 18!! Gross. He will never know Ada, though.

Also for context, Matias met Jonan who introduced him to a band he was a part of, Don was a bassist and Matias joined as a singer. Jonan left the band because he could not stand to watch his friend in an abusive relationship. They do meet again and even live together for some years

If I’m missing any tags please tell me.

Some doodle/explanation for your troubles :D

[resident-mercie]

hello! how are you? :D

I don't mean to bother you or be rude or anything, it's just that I noticed something in your most recent series "Halcyon Days".

so I suppose (I may be wrong, sorry me if it's incorrect) you used the translator to say "meu querido" in portuguese (which is my native language), aaand it's a little off hehe portuguese has this stupid thing where most words have genders, so if you mean to refer to a fem!reader, the correct words would be "minha querida". oh oh, if you meant to use spanish, it goes pretty much the same way 😅

yeah, that's it :) sorry if I sound rude, it wasn't my intention at all! btw love the series!! seriously one of the best pieces I've seen with Carlos, so thank you so much for sharing! it's so well thought and written! you're doing great, keep going 💖

hi there, and don't worry about it!! the only gendered language i speak is french, and for some reason it completely slipped my mind to look for the female recipient version, oops! gonna go and amend it once i've done my daily walk ;)

thank you so much for your support, and thank you for telling me, we grow as a community by offering tips and helping one another out like this!!

i'm so glad you're enjoying this series, and just letting you know that part 4 won't be long ;)

mercie <3

[kareenvorbarra]

if my heart was mine (Kamet/Marin)

I almost wished I hadn’t spoken of her, but it was both bitter and sweet to say her name again.

another Kamet/Marin mix, much longer and less stylistically coherent than the first! like before, the songs are in vaguely chronological order based on the arc of their relationship as i imagine it, and several of the songs near the end are about the aftermath.

Lyrics:

Law Kan Qalby Maay (Fairuz)

Arabic lyrics + translation

Trees (The Oh Hellos)

Climbing trees Haven't much since we were children Shaking limbs Tend to end up bent and broken But heartache pales in comparison to love

Push Pull (Purity Ring)

You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired There was an echo far and faint Beneath the air remained You were young and you'd stare Where my limbs hung far and fair Make a ladder of what folds And climb up in me

Love They Say (Tegan and Sara)

You don't need to wonder if love will make us stronger There's nothing love can't do Love, they say this You don't need to worry, this love will make us worthy There's nothing love can't do

Entanglement (Imogen Heap)

It's home where you hold me So show me no mercy On islands of cotton Taboos get forgotten Our body entanglement wants You all over me Me all over you

Yo hanino (The Renaissance Players)

Lyrics (Ladino): Yo hanino tu hanina Mos tomaremos los dos Los ijikos ke mos nascen Aman, komo la luna y el sol

Ay ke hermozas palavrikas Ke me dizes tu a mi El dió grande ke te oyga Aman, tu soy sola para mi Translation (by @elwing, since I couldn't find the second verse of this version online anywhere): I'm beautiful, you're beautiful Let's take each other The children born to us Will be like the moon and the sun What beautiful little words That you say to me May the great god hear you You are the only one for me

La Tassaalouny (Fairuz)

Arabic lyrics + translation

Faint of Heart (Tegan and Sara)

Anyone could say that We're dangerous to take this chance Anyone could make us sound like We don't really have a plan Anyone could say that It's chemical and it won't last Anyone could make us seem Reckless, tell us we will crash

Magnets (Disclosure feat. Lorde)

Uh-oh, dancing past the point of no return Let go, we can free ourselves of all we've learned I love this secret language that we're speaking Say it to me, let's embrace the point of no return

Stay Soft (Mitski)

Just tell me what you want to do Tell me what you want To burn away Cause I could be your stoker

Open up your heart Like the gates of hell

Pienso En Tu Mirá (Rosalía)

Spanish lyrics + translation

The Beast (Imogen Heap)

One by one skin hardens, we’re becoming the beast Sheer power in the heat of hate brings our army of two to its knees Steel lungs are screaming the house down Going for the kill from the kiss Battle stations are now navigation Have we driven love to this?

After (MUNA)

It feels like a dream, what happened last night In the morning I am waiting in a long, long line I felt so connected, I felt so high I'm going to be lonely for a long, long time

Life on Land (Dessa)

Out in the water You can't touch bottom It pulls you farther Life on land forgotten

The world turns over I'm pulled under Stone cold sober But I feel nothing

Esta montanya d'enfrente (Kon Sira)

Ladino lyrics + translation

Only The Strong (Laura Marling)

Love is a sickness cured by time Love is a sickness cured by time Bruises all end up benign Love is a sickness cured by time

I hope that you can change my mind Had to leave this crying all behind I hope that you don't think that I'm unkind So somebody told me, only and only Only the strong will survive

Ponos Krifos (Marina Satti)

Greek lyrics + translation

[might-be-tiny-gt]

The Celebration: A Dion One Shot

"Cheers!"

With another case officially closed, the Wright Anything Agency took it upon themselves to celebrate. Of course, they were still on a budget so the celebration was take out from Eldoon's. The office, which was already a mess of law documents and magic props, was littered with take out boxes, dirty napkins, and soda cans. Phoenix, Trucy, and Athena had resigned themselves to the simple party (If you can even call it that.) But Dion insisted they do something special, hence the fancy bottle of grape juice (Not wine.) amongst the red solo cups.Phoenix even pulled out the fancy glasses just for the toast.

"To another job well done!" The four of them touched their glasses together and took a sip.

"Wow," Trucy exclaimed, "This is way better than the juice boxes from the supermarket!"

Dion smiled as she took another sip, "Only the best for the Wright Anything Agency."

"C'est excellent, merci!"

"Vous êtes les bienvenus"

"This party isn't that fancy. Mind keeping the conversation to a language a majority of us can understand please?"

Athena and Dion gave each other a knowing look which they then threw to Trucy. A mischievous smirk made itself clear on each of their faces which both confused and concerned Phoenix.

"Podemos hablar español entonces. Athena, Trucy, ¿Te parece bien?"

"Eso está bien para mi. ¿Qué hay de ti Trucy?"

Great, they switched to Spanish. Phoenix couldn't follow much of what they were saying but could at least infer that they were asking Trucy a question.He knew Trucy must have been just as lost a he-

"¡Soy bueno con hablando español!"

What?

"Perfecto." Athena clapped her hands together in excitement."

Trucy pointed to her fathers astonished face, "Dios mío, mira la cara de Daddy."

HUH?!?

Dion laughed, "Esta tan confundido."

Athena and Trucy joined in the laughter, Phoenix was stunned.

"Trucy, when did you start speaking Spanish?"

"Justo ahora, cuando preguntaste."

"Trucy, tu padre es un anfitrión tan amable." Dion refilled Trucy and Athena's glasses while clearly referring to Phoenix.

Athena raised her glass, "Saludos a eso."

They three touched their glasses together as they shouted, "¡Salud!"

"You know, I don't appreciated people talking about me behind my back like this."

"It wasn't behind your back," Dion finally brought the conversation to English to Phoenix's relief, "It was to your face, you just couldn't understand it."

"That doesn't make it any better."

"Aww Daddy, it was all in good fun."

"You didn't answer my question earlier. Where did you learn to speak Spanish?"

Trucy pointed to Athena and Dion, of course.

"Surprise, Boss!"

"For the record Chief, it was Athena's idea."

"Well I was also trying to teach Apollo when he was here, but he just wasn't getting the hang of it. But Trucy,"

"I was a Spanish speaking prodigy!" She said it with such pride too.

Phoenix only started at them, not entirely sure what else to say for a moment. He took a sip of his grape juice and simply said, "You guys are something else."

Dion raised her glass, "I'll take that as a compliment."

The night went on as the agency found was to entertain themselves. Trucy put on an impromptu magic show, showing off and testing her new tricks. Dion got roped to being her assistant, which she didn't mind until Trucy pulled out the swords. Phoenix and Athena knew better than to get roped into helping with that trick, Dion on the other hand..

"Trucy, this is safe right?'

"Of course! Athena and Polly already proved it!"

"Proved it? What, like in court?"

"Yeah actually, it was one the last cases Apollo and I worked on together."

"Wait, why did this need to be proven safe in court!?!"

Trucy ignored Dion's pleas, "Lady and Gentleman!"

"Trucy!!!!"

Luckily for all parties involved, the trick went off without a hitch. Phoenix and Athena clapped while Trucy basked in the praise. Dion dramatically flung herself on the couch as she was prone to do. The next activity was the piano. Trucy and Phoenix cleared the junk off so they could actually use it. Poor thing was covered in a layer dust, it had seen better days.

"She's all yours," Phoenix gestured for Dion to take a seat at the piano, "Play what you want."

"Actually I'd like to hear you play."

"Me?" Phoenix Blinked.

"Daddy!?" Trucy exclaimed.

"You told me you played during your disbarment right? I'd love to hear your playing."

"Boss you never told me you knew how to play the piano!"

Phoenix chuckled nervously, "Yeah well, it was a while ago and I'm umm... rusty."

"Nonsense," Dion grabbed Phoenix by the shoulders and sat him down at the Piano, "I won't play til you do."

Phoenix started at the keys, anxiety steadily rising. He looked back and saw Athena and Dion watching him expectantly. Trucy was pulling earplugs from her magic panties. Wow, thanks for the confidence boost Trucy.

"Well," Phoenix reassured himself under his breath, "Here goes nothing."

He began touching the keys and it was just a bad as he remembered. Everyone in that office cringed as Phoenix kept on going.

"Ok, That's enough!"

Phoenix quietly thanked what ever cosmic power finally stopped his emberassing display, " I told you I was rusty."

Dion stepped forward, a determined expression, "Move over, Chief."

"Gladly," Phoenix stood up his seat but felt someone grab his hand before he could step away.

"I didn't say you could leave."

"Huh?"

Dion sat Phoenix back down and took a seat next to him, "We're playing this four hands."

"Four Hands?"

"Just follow my lead, I'll show you what to do."

Dion began playing and surprise surprise, it was actual music. Phoenix watched what keys she played very carefully before she nudged him to join. It sounded very rough at first but as they continued he started following the melody a bit better, it helped that the song Dion chose to play was very repetitive. By the time they finished their duet, he had only butchered a little bit of the song. Athena and Trucy gave a small round of applause.

"That was lovely," Athena gave her compliment with a tiny bit hesitance, "Moonlight Sonata, right?"

"Yup, first song I learned to play in full," Dion turned to her boss, "You up for another round?"

"I think I'll pass. I think the music sounds more like music when you play."

"If you insist, but Chief?"

"Yeah?"

"I had fun, we should play together more often."

Phoenix smiled, "Yeah, we should." He moved from his seat at the piano to join Athena and Trucy on the sofa. Dion began playing show-tunes for the rest of the evening which the others enjoyed. It soon became a big song along as Dion would play popular songs she knew the others knew the lyrics. It was all fun and games until they got a noise complaint during the middle of Bohemian Rhapsody. Everyone took that as a sign to start wrapping things up. Trucy started putting her props back while Athena and Dion picked up the trash. Phoenix had to wash the glasses they used for grape juice but seeing as he didn't have a dishwasher in the office he had to settle for cleaning them in the bathroom sink.

"Hey Trucy, is there any other glasses that need to be cleaned?'"

Trucy immediately spotted one on the coffee table, 'Found one!"

Trucy went to take it to her father in the bathroom when she had a thought, "Hey daddy, remember when we first bought these?"

"Yeah, I remember, I remember almost needing to go to the hospital room."

That particular comment caught Athena and Dion's attention, "Hospital Room?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be a trick."

"A magic trick?"

"No," Phoenix stated, "A party trick, a dangerous one."

Athena, ever curious, asked, "What kind of trick?"

"Have you seen those cartoons where someone screams really loud or sings really high and then the glass breaks?'

Dion froze in her tracks, a chill ran up her spine.

Athena and Trucy, None the wiser, continued, "Yeah, it breaks cause of its resonant frequency."

"Well, Daddy used to do musical theater-"

"Only in college!"

"You still knew how to sing!"

"But not that high."

"Point is, I wanted to help Daddy find a job after he lost his badge so i thought he could join my act!"

"It didn't work.The glass never came close to breaking."

"Well if it didn't work why did you need to go to the hospital room?"

"Because Trucy thought it would be funny if she smashed it with a hammer."

"Trucy!"

"I was nine!!!"

"Needless to say, that trick was very quickly retired."

"Yeah," Trucy looked through the glass she was holding, reminiscing. Then she noticed her purple companion, "Oh DION!"

Dion nearly jumped at the sudden call of her name, "Ah- Y-yes? Yes Trucy?"

Trucy hurried to Dion's side and pressed the glass in her hand, "Can you do it?'

"What?"

"The frequency trick, can you break the glass with your voice?'

"I-I can, I've done it before..."

Athena went wide eyed. Her voice just then, it sounded terrified.

Dion took a deep breath and held the glad up to her eye level. When she started singing she began very softly and gradually went higher and higher, visibly putting more and more effort into reaching a high enough pitch. It was working as the glass started shaking violently as Dion reached the higher notes. Trucy cheered Dion on while Phoenix watched in awe. Athena was less in awe and more concerned. To everyone else, Dions voice was strong and steady, but her heart... Her heart was scared, her heart really didn't want to do this. Athena didn't exactly know why, but she didn't need to to understand this was a bad idea. She waited with baited breath for the glass to finally shatter but it never did.

Dion stopped.

"Aww, you were almost there!"

"I know, but I never intended on breaking it."

"What? Why?"

"Several reasons, not the least of which being no one has any safety gear." Dion handed the glass to Phoenix to clean.

"Still, that was quite a sight to see. It looked like it was about to explode!"

"Thanks, I'm gonna head downstairs, throw out the trash."

"Oh, ok. Be careful!"

As Dion walked out the door Athena dashed after her, "I'm going with Dion," It came out louder than she wanted, "Just so that she isn't alone in the dark."

Athena ran out and followed Dion downstairs and to the alleyway where the dumpster were.She held the lid open while Dion tossed the bag in. Before they went back upstairs Athena stopped Dion.

"Hey, are you ok?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

There it was again. Dion's face showed no sign of anything being wrong, but Athena could still hear her true feelings.

"The glass thing, there's another reason why you didn't want to go through with it, right?"

"I," Dion paused trying to find her voice, "I didn't want to break Chief's good glass like that."

"Did something happen? The last time you tried it?"

.

..

...

"I should have known I couldn't get anything past you."

"It's ok if you don't want to talk about it. I don't mean to be pushy or anything."

"No, it's ok. I don't mind."

The two took their conversation to the building's lobby where Dion began her story, "The last time I tried the glass trick was sophomore year, I was turning my life around. I switched to the defense course and joined the Themis Thespians-"

"The drama club?" Dion nodded, "Juni's mentioned them."

"We were doing a charity banquet and while prepping the glassware we got it in our heads to try breaking it,Dion's hands were trembling.

Athena placed her hand on Dion's, "Take your time."

Dion took Athena’s advice and gave herself a moment to regain some of her composure. She gave Athena a half smile before continuing, "When it was my turn, I gave it my all and finally did it. I didn't realize at the time... that I wasn’t exactly fond of the sound of glass shattering. It was like I lost all control, I couldn't breathe and all I could do was call for my mom, like I was back in the theater. Back to the accident…”

"You had a panic attack," It wasn't a question.

"Y-yeah, It was the worst feeling in the world. I was surrounded by classmates trying to reach out but I couldn't reach back. I hated it."

"If you knew that glass breaking triggered a panic attack, why didn't you tell Trucy you didn't want to do the trick?"

“I didn’t want to bring the mood down. We’re here to have a victory party, not a pity party.”

Athena gave Dion a look, she could tell that wasn’t the reason. Dion realized she was busted and continued her thought, “I-I didn't do it for Trucy. I-It's stupid... I"

"You’re feelings aren’t stupid.”

“I did for myself,” Dion admitted begrudgingly, “I need to get my act together, I need to get over this nonsense!”

“This isn’t nonsense. It’s-“

Dion cut her off, “Yes, it is. You saw me in court this week, I was a mess! I worked my ass off to get through law school, pass the bar, become a lawyer, and the minute I step foot in court I fall apart because I have daddy issues? I can’t be this scarred little girl crying for mommy every time things get tough, I NEED TO GET OVER THIS! I NEED TO-“

Athena threw arms around Dion and pulled her into a hug, "It's ok. It's ok to not be ok."

"But I-" Dion tried to keep her voice from shaking but she failed miserably, "I hate this. I hate being scared. I hate letting Prosecutor Kotinos get to me. I hate feeling useless! I hate myse-“

"Stop it!," Athena raised her voice so suddenly it startled Dion, “I know you don't want to hear this but you need to...You can't force yourself to feel better. You’re undermining the trauma you’ve gone through, brushing it off as an inconvenience. It’s not healthy. "

Dion was quiet, she leaned into Athena's embrace, finally letting her tears flow. Dion sobbed in her shoulder as Athena comforted her. With a soft, almost defeated tone she let out, "I know."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, only a stray sniffle broke the peaceful silence.

"God, I miss her so much.”

“Yeah, I miss mine too.”

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

“No, it always hurts. But now I have Mr.Wright, and Trucy, and Blackquill,” Athena nudged Dion, “And you. It helps knowing they’re here for me and I know I’ll be there for them whenever they need a shoulder to cry on.”

“Gee, wonder if that’ll ever happen.”

The two let out a chuckle. Dion wiped away her tears and pulled the fan from her sleeve in an attempt to calm herself a bit.

“Thanks Athena.”

“Anytime. And I mean anytime.”

“Should we head upstairs now? We’ve been gone awhile.”

“Are you ready to go upstairs?”

“C-Can we wait a little longer.”

“Sure,” Athena put her arm around her friend’s shoulder, “Take all the time you need.”

End

[masterofdespair]

Introduction

Hi hello! I’m Tina/Gus, 23 years old, nonbinary.

I mostly got encouraged to make this blog because a bunch of my mutuals were doing it and I was like “oh! Looks fun, and I like roleplay, I should give this a shot!” And some way or another I mustered the guts to do it! PLAYLIST

PSA: I follow from my main cause this is a side blog.

Important stuff and Rules

I’m new to having a character centred blog so bare with me and if you have any advice or criticism I’m more than happy to receive it

Although I’m a huge scarecrow fan, I’m not an expert, so again if you have like any tips or recommendations or even headcanons I’m happy to read them just don’t be an asshole

Minors I’m sorry but you are not allowed here

That being said, I’m not against nsfw asks but don't get too explicit, and if it is for an rp scenario please talk to me first, I might or might not do it depending on how comfortable I feel about it

Ocs, self inserts and the like are welcome! But won’t do any shippy stuff unless you’re a friend/mutual, and we talked about it before

I’m into ships, so I’m willing to rp ships like Scriddler, Hattercrow, Banecrow, Ivycrow, Scaryquinn, etc., but only if I'm comfortable, like we'd have to talk about it first, but if someone asks something like “do you have any feelings for so and so 👀???” that I don’t mind

I hope this isn’t too restricting HDJSHSHSGS

I LOVE CROSSOVERS

I’m down to roleplaying mostly anything, but if I’m not comfortable I’ll make it known and I’ll put a stop to it (if someone else is not comfortable with something please say so too)

I might be slow as all hell sometimes to respond so I apologise in advance

AND English is not my first language (Spanish is, and thus I gave my Jon the ability to speak Spanish) so have mercy if I fuck up, I do appreciate corrections but don't be rude you know?

Scarecrows I rp as:

Salecrow

Arkhamverse (both Asylum and Knight)

Year One

Masters Of Fear

My version of him (the one I'll mostly use, my main muse, unless the universe is specified in the ask/thread. Tbh I'm only leaving the other scarecrows as muses because I love them way too much)

Tags, Tags and More Tags:

#Dr.Crane isn't here right now: for ooc posts

#Joncore: for things that remind me of the spook master

#poems: for poems that I feel Jon would like

#corvids: to share the beauty that are corvids

#films: for horror movie stuff

#Guscrow: for my version of Jon

#Rhymes Galore: for Salecrow (my beloved)

#Gremlin Jon: for Arkham Asylum Jon

#Extra Grumpy Jon: for Arkham Knight Jon

#Country Boy: for Year One Jon

#Violent Dancer: for Masters of Fear Jon (my other beloved)