#but even on his own i fucking love malos man

[silent-partner-412]

malos xenoblade is an insane character tbh… he is a harbinger of death and destruction. he is as evil as it gets. he’s cocky, he’s brash, he’s theatrical to the point of camp, he feels nothing but joy at destroying the world. he doubts everything about his existence. he yearns for love and connection. he would dedicate his life to another person despite being effectively a god. he would ignore what he sees as his own purpose for the one that he loves. he can’t verbally express any of this quite literally until he dies, if even then. literally nobody does it like him, i’m so obsessed

[hspn]

Our favorite HSPN posts 13

Here's a list of our favorite Hair & Sports Programming Network posts from the past year:

Did you win this one?

A terrifying Goldilocks

César grew a beard

Runner-up in a tournament

Post-concussion reality

Murder must be a red

Lifetime scoring record

Bouncy castles

Do not fuck with Éve Perisset

Dancing guy

Galahad

Chilly

July 1st

Doctor Junior

Does not know how Zoom works

Leg room

He is Nicolas Jackson

VAR highlights

Tech genius

More Malo than Gusto

How his morning went

You do not want that

Great combo celebration

Big Poch season

Props to that camera man

BBQ

The Reece James of commentators

Should've been the Christmas Eve game

Trying to hide a smile

Some great photos:

Seen it twice

Eidur & Jimmy

The real monarch

Whether or not he is picked for anything

This is the best combination of outfits

Emma

Emma needs to wear this coat

Bicycle

Everyone who looks like Graham Potter:

Inspirational-looking manager

Same dejected look

Not the one who got fired

Small coffees:

That same small coffee cup

One regular coffee

Medium coffee

The ballad of Mudryk & Cucurella:

Sitting there posting hate memes

A floating Nicolas Jackson

Four toddlers in a shirt

Typical movie trope

Photogenic keepers:

Clutch

Zecira knew

Now that's a good-looking keeper

Ben Chilwell does Ben Chilwell things:

Also his hair looked good

Another manager that loves Chilly

Just tired

Chilly trips the ref

Thiago Silva does Thiago Silva things:

I even brought my own ball

That disapproving father expression

Not 39 yet

Impeccable tackle

He slid forever

Fresh legs

Previous favorites: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

[ben10ocfanfic]

Tale of 10

chapter 3

1. The RV layout was simple. In one room was a bed with several other beds hidden within the drawers. Along with a sleeping bag for a fourth person.

2 in the main section of the RV where several tables for eating and a TV right above that. Additionally there was also a small kitchen area at the end of that room.

3. Yet for some reason everyone had decided to cram into the front cabin of the RV. Most of the guys with the exception of Rick were cramming Jesse into the driver's seat.

4. Upon hearing that they were reaching their first campsite everyone had gotten far too excited. This was very clear when Jesse yelled."everyone sit the fuck down before I crashed the RV into the ditch!"

5. This was enough to get the three boys to settle down. Emptying into the main dinning room the boys began to relax.

6. Rick decided to put on some TV catching some old reruns of sumo slammers. Meanwhile Jose and DJ were talking to each other.

7."Hey DJ you doing all right man? You look kind of tired." Josè looked at his freind with a bit of concern.

8. DJ just shrugged."what can I say I had a bad dream that's all. But I'm not going to let that ruin today." Josè raised a brow at that. Before rolling his eyes

9."what was the dream about? Had to be pretty scary to raddle you." DJ quickly picked up on the sarcasm."oh fuck off. It wasn't that bad just a half burned squid. Like if someone took Cthulhu and took a flamethrower to his face."

10. Josè chuckled."Suena como si alguien comiera unos calamares malos otra vez."DJ sighed at this."I thought we agreed not to talk about that again."

11. Josè just gave him a smirk."nunca dijiste nada de hablar en español."this comment preceded just before Josè got flicked in the noise.

12. But Josè being himself just laughed it off. Not long after this interaction the RV came to a stop in a wooded area. Jessie then yelled for everyone to come out.

13. He called everyone to give jobs to set up camp. He started with Rick."Rick you're in charge of picking the movie and setting up the projector. Oh an for the love of God do not pick sumo slammers versus The walking Dead again we will watch it I promise. But please pick something different for once."

14. Rickrolled his eyes but walked off."Josè you're in charge of.... Are you really sure you want to set up the tents man."

15. Josè proceeded to chuckle."don't worry pendejo I got this you just handle on cooking the burgers."with that josè left to do his job. Jesse then look to DJ.

16."if I'm making the food you're getting the wood."DJ gave him a thumbs up and walked off into the woods. And continued walking looking for sticks.

17. After about 2 hours he noticed two very important things one there were almost no sticks in the ground near camp at least not dead ones. Second it was starting to get dark.

18. It was quite odd to DJ the lack of any sort of twig or branch on the ground. In fact he couldn't even see a leaf in the grass. As if nothing had touched this ground in years.

19. The only signs of damage to the forest we're very old burn marks along some of the trees. Remember the old tales of an angry fire Spirit afraid of his own life.

20. At least that was the tall tale a few of the older residents of Bellwood would tell. Many of the residents of Bellwood were superstitious. They all remarked on events that happened years ago with no explanation.

21. Yet in DJs entire life he has never once seen anything strange except for one time. The time a green muscle car hold up in front of the school and then drove away.

22. Well that may not sound that strange it still gave him a weird feeling that day. Eventually he did see something. Just as he was to walk away back to his camp he saw something shining in the grass.

23. Upon seeing the object he grabbed it. It was a thin piece of black metal. Then he saw another. It was longer in Brown. Then another white. Then another and another.

24. He hadn't even realized he was following a trail. Not until the trees began to part an all around he saw of piles metal. While most was indistinguishable from each other. He could make out a few objects.

25. Something that looks like the remains of an RV. Almost humanoid figures and giant claws laid amongst the wreckage.

26. Yet he didn't turn as if in a trance he continued into the scrap yard. Eventually finding what looked like a crater. He continued down it until he reached the center.

27. Once he reached the center he broke out of his trance like state. And he spotted what look like a watch. He picked it up to get a closer look.

28. The watch was heavily damaged with exposed wires and pieces of metal chipped off. The top plate had a symbol. A green hour Glass with two black sides mirroring it.

29."dam this thing look beat to hell."he stated as he brought it closer to his face. Then the watch began to glow. And a voice came from human in nature but unfamiliar to DJ.

30."Omnitrix activated. backup guardian located. Please stand by please stand by please stand by. Activating code 101010-0010x. Initiating repair sequence and bonding protocols."

31. Suddenly The watch jumped onto his left wrist and a bright green flash over took his vision. He felt like a surge of electricity went through his body and everything went black. While consciousness left him he could have sworn he felt bigger...an hot.

32. Meanwhile above Earth. A robotic alien walked through the corridors of the ship. It came to it a stop in front of a large throne. And a figure cloaked in shadow sat.

33. The robotic alien held its head and spoke in a raspy voice."my Lord the Omnitrix has been awakened. You were correct it had survived an someone has it."

34. The figure nodded to his servant and dismissed him looking out through a screen. The screen displayed all of earth. And the figures spoke to himself in a deep voice.

35."it's been almost 50 years since our battles Tennyson.... But you're no longer here to stand in my way. I hope you chose your guardian well because this time I will not be denied!"

[youare-mysonshine]

pobre diabla || oscar diaz

(gif is not mine. credit to owner♥️)

Summary: Reader gets scared of Oscar and reveals that she had a bad past relationship.

Requested: yes!

request for a fic on how spooky would react if reader got scared of him like maybe she had a bad past relationship and like he didn’t know about it but like he scared her, not on purpose and instantly regretted everything, apologizing and backing away like i never meant to scare you

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x Reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of an abusive relationship, angst, fluff at the end.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: hello all. this is a request I’ve had for a long ass time. To whoever requested, I’m sorry it took this long. Something short, angsty and then sweet. Enjoy. like with part 6 of que malo, please take caution when reading!

—————

“He’s your brother, Oscar! He’s your brother and you’re not even gonna let him come back? This gang means more to you than him? Your flesh and blood?”

What a great way to ring in the new year, huh? Having a fight with your boyfriend over the fact that he’d kicked his little brother out and refused to let him back in.

You and Oscar had been dating for a few months. You’d met shortly after he’d gotten out of prison and you had instantly hit it off with him. Initially, you had been skeptical about starting a relationship with Oscar because your previous relationship hadn’t been the.. best. It had been scarring. Physically, emotionally, mentally. So when you and Oscar started hanging out and talking, part of you was afraid of opening yourself up to someone like that again only to be hurt. Especially given the fact that he was in a gang.

But over the course of your relationship, he’d never given you a reason to be afraid of him. He always kept the gang stuff away from you, making sure you were never involved. Oscar knew the dangers of being with someone like him and he always made sure to keep you protected and safe. And besides that, you’d learned things about him that many people didn’t know. You saw a side of him that he didn’t let most people see. That goofy, funny side.

The Oscar that would make fun of you for burning the food. The Oscar that would sometimes sing in the shower (which you loved because he really did have a nice singing voice). The Oscar that would always make sure his little brother was good, putting his needs before his own.

Which is why you couldn’t understand why when Cesar had shown up at the house begging Oscar to take him back, he refused. He kicked him to the curb, turned him away.

You’d heard about what happened at Olivia’s quince - her death, Ruby being shot. Oscar and the other Santos beating Cesar bloody, Oscar kicking him out. That was really when your relationship had become strained. Maybe you were naive when it came to the gang, but you couldn’t wrap your head around it. You’d been inside the house when you heard Oscar’s loud, deep voice yell. And when you peeked out from behind the curtain, you saw Oscar pushing his little brother. The look on Cesar’s face absolutely broke your heart. Then hearing and seeing all the other Santos bark at the young Diaz as he walked away fueled your anger. As soon as Oscar had come in the house, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Which led to you heatedly staring each other down in the living room.

“You don’t understand, Y/N. I didn’t have a choice. Cuchillos didn’t give me a choice-“

“Fuck Cuchillos! He’s your little brother, Oscar. He has nowhere to go. Those Prophets are still after him. What happens if they find him? They’re gonna kill him. All this because he couldn’t kill someone?”

“And look what happened! Olivia died, Ruby got shot! All because of his mistake! He knew what he had to do and he didn’t do it. That’s on him!”

“Bullshit, Oscar! That’s bullshit. You put that on him. He is a fourteen year old boy! Did you really expect him to just go and kill Latrelle? He’s not you, Oscar!” You spat, your heart rate beating rapidly in your chest from sheer anger. Oscar felt similarly, lips pulled back in a snarl, brows furrowed. This was probably the worst fight that the two of you had ever gotten into. You’d gotten into little arguments here and there before, but it was never anything like this. Never full blown yelling or glaring at each other so hard that both of you would’ve been six feet under if looks could kill.

“You know what? I don’t need this shit.” Oscar had turned around, going to leave but you kept going.

“Does the gang mean that much more to you than your baby brother? The baby brother that you raised? What are you gonna if one day a cop shows up and tells you that he’s dead because a Prophet got to hi-“

“I said enough!” In the blink of an eye, Oscar had spun around. “I don’t have a choice, and if you can’t understand that, then you can pack your shit and get out-“ His lifted his arm and you flinched, cowering away. In that moment, you weren’t looking at Oscar. It wasn’t your boyfriend that was standing in front of you. No.. it was your past abuser. The man that had swore he loved you but then turned around and smacked you around, talked down to you like you were nothing but a piece of garbage.

In that moment, panic filled you and all you could see were flashbacks, images of your ex-boyfriend. The look in his eyes, the anger on his face, before he’d mistreat you. All you could think of and hear in your head were the sounds of his hand making contact with your skin, the sounds of his harsh words and insults being thrown your way.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry..” Was all you could say as you screwed your eyes shut, almost as if you were bracing, expecting, the impact of his palm against your cheek.

Oscar was stunned. Frozen in place. The anger he felt had dissipated in him. Vanished quicker than lightening and all that was left in it’s wake was hurt. His face faltered.. You’d flinched away from him. You thought he was going to hit you. When all he’d done was lift his hand to motion over to the hallway where your shared bedroom was.

“Y/N.. I.. I wasn’t gonna hit you..” Regret filled his entire body. The anger that was once taken hold of that room had gone right out the window, all that was was two horrified lovers. You opened your eyes, tears wetting your bottom lash line, and you were met with the sight of Oscar looking at you with hurt and regret all over his face. “Bebe.. I’m.. I’m sorry, I.. I wasn’t going to hit you. Tu sabes que nunca haria eso..” Oscar backed away from you, and the look on his face absolutely brushed your entire soul. You hadn’t meant to flinch. It was almost like an involuntary reaction. Oscar had never given you a reason to be scared of him, but in that moment, your mind had flashed back to your ex-boyfriend and you felt that same fear you always felt when you were with him.

“Oscar.. I’m sorry. I.. I know, I know that you’d never hit me.. I just..” You paused, taking in a deep breath, hoping to calm your erratic heart. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You walked over to the couch and took a seat, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just.. I don’t know why, when you raised your hand like that I.. it was like I was looking at my ex-boyfriend. I had like this flashback.”

“What?”

“I’ve never told you before because I kinda always wanted to put it past me. And I just don’t like talking about it because it’s not easy to talk about..” You lifted your head, wiping away the tear that had fallen down your cheek. “Before I met you, I was dating this guy. He was great, funny, charming. It was enough for me to overlook the red flags. He’d always make little rude comments to me, he’d tell me what to wear, who I could and couldn’t hang out with. He’d look through my phone. That was just the start. Then it got physical. It started with little things - he’d push me, grab me hard enough to leave bruises.. and then he actually hit me. It started with a slap and escalated to something more.. I finally left him when I had to go to the hospital for injuries he caused.”

Oscar was once more stunned in silence. You were undoubtedly once of the strongest women he’s ever met and know he knew why. But he couldn’t deny the anger and the horror bubbling beneath his skin. But beside that, the hurt he felt was also there. The fact that he’d reminded you of your abuser, the fact that you’d been scared of him for even a brief moment, that you were scared he’d hit you - it killed him. It crushed his heart into a thousand pieces. “Mamas..” The Santo walked over hesitantly, kneeling down in front of you. He lifted a hesitant hand to you, touching your face, cradling your cheek softly as if he were handling a fragile china doll. To his relief, you didn’t flinch away from him. No, you leaned into his touch because his touch was familiar and it was good and you craved it.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. Deep but soft. Calmness washed over you. “I’m fuckin’ sorry that happened to you.” The images of someone who you loved and trusted hurting you in such a horrific way flashed through his mind and you could make out that barely concealed anger in his eyes. “I’d kill the puto with my bare hands if I ever saw him.” He spoke. “But you need to know that I’d never hurt you like that. Nunca. Tu eres mi vida. Me moriría para ti.” His words caused a flurry of butterflies in your stomach to go wild. “I’d die before I hurt you like that, before I let anyone hurt you like that again. I’m sorry for scaring you, baby. I never meant to. We may fight and argue but I never want you to be afraid of me. Never me.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for not telling you about this before. And I’m sorry for what I said to you about Cesar-“ Oscar leaned forward and silenced you with a deep, kiss. You immediately melted into it, you hands coming to rest upon his shoulders, fiddling the fabric of the flannel that he wore. If his words hadn’t reassured that you had no reason to be afraid of him, than it was his kiss that sure had. The way he kissed you so softly, yet so deeply. So sweetly yet so passionately. It was everything.

“I know. I’m sorry for what I said too . For yelling.” He muttered as he pulled away, resting his forehead upon your own. “I’ll figure something out, okay? I know he’s my baby brother and I hate that he’s out there too.”

You leaned forward and pressed another, short, kiss to his lips.

“We’ll figure something out. Me and you.”

—————

tagging: @spookysmujer @ugh-jalynn @lovleyajoitee @curly-haired-holland @babienay @harringtoncastle @spookysnena @eggshaustedd @firebenderwolf @clemmingstylins0n @xiomarlyn @lana-loves-stuff @dolanackles @briskiiat420 @lossantosprincesa @princesstiffxoxo @xbrujababyx @juul4jesus @audreydiane96 @angelreyesgirl100 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @poppaxannie @deviilbby @mrs-spookyd1az @eriksjournal @socialistavocado @pananegra @demure-doll @skathan-omaha @kingbouji3 @animesstuffsposts @moanlightbaby @thenameishayley248 @cheshirecat107 @bellaguarneri @liaari @cedricheart @amethyst09 @flamingweasley @littlxmiss @mellisophilia @fairygardenss @sadeyesbabymama

[efeafdfw]

It is well said by one of the judges of North Carolina

“I have had enough of Illyrio’s plans. Robert Baratheon won the Iron Throne without the benefit of dragons. One of the tigers spied the dwarf

ropa golf junior

and said something that made the others laugh. As they reached the gate, he pulled off his clawed gauntlet and the sweaty glove beneath, locked one arm around the dwarf’s neck, and roughly rubbed his head. Ranaway from the subscriber, near Mount Sterling, Ky., on the night of the 20th of October, a negro man named PORTER. Said boy is black, about 22 years old, very stout and active, weighs about 165 or 170 pounds. Now, in all the theory of government as it is managed in our country, just in proportion to the extent of power is the strictness with which qualification for the proper exercise of it is demanded. The physician may not meddle with the body, to prescribe for air jordan aj4 its ailments, without a certificate that he is properly qualified. With whispered words and prayer, a man’s shadow can be drawn forth from such and draped about another like a cloak. The wearer’s essence does not change, only his seeming.”. If the reader wishes to know what kind of preaching it is that St. Clare alludes to, when he says he can learn what is quite as much to the purpose from the Picayune, and that such scriptural expositions of their peculiar relations don’t edify him much, he is referred to the following extract from a sermon preached in New Orleans, by the Rev. “‘It is well said by one of the judges of North Carolina, that the master has a right to exact the labor of his slave; that far, the rights of the slave are suspended; but this gives the master no right over the life of his slave. I add to the saying of the judge, that law which says thou shalt not kill, protects the slave; and he is within its very letter. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to puma red bull racing evo cat ii do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Falling snow and feasting wolves began to dim. Warmth beat against his face, comforting as a mother’s kisses. “Kem! Get over here, you fucking pisspot.” Kem came running. “Take Lord and Lady Imp to the wagons, have Hammer fix them up with some company steel.”. There will be no flaying here whilst I am Prince of Winterfell, Theon had responded, little dreaming how short his rule would prove. None of them would help me. “I loved forgiving him, Vanya,” she went on. Do you know when he left me alone I used to walk about the room, fretting and polo raflorene crying, and then I would cizme din denim think that the worse he treated me the better . You can’t drink the water. That’s why we cizme din denim got the ale.” The guard rubbed his face, his eyes red and inflamed. The parents enjoyed having him. He used to stay with them the whole evening, long after midnight. Yet if he were to abandon me I should run after him to lugosis carhartt the ends of the earth, even if he were to repulse me, even if he were to drive me away. You try to persuade me to go back-but what use is that? If I went back I should come away tomorrow. Lewis Clark is an acquaintance of the writer. Soon after his escape from slavery, he was received into the family of a sister-in-law of the author, and there educated. Benerro’s high voice carried well. Tall and thin, he had a drawn face and skin white as milk. Also—Committed at the same time a negro boy, who says his name is PATRICK, of a bright complexion, about 30 years of age, will weigh about one hundred and forty-five or fifty pounds; about six feet high; his face is very badly scarred, which he says was caused by being salivated. The disease caused him to lose the bone out of his nose, and his jaw-bone, also. “Just ninety-nine years and three months ago. Well, there he seduced the daughter of a certain father, and carried her off with kimono long femme grande taillehim to Paris. Now, I shall start with

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Nellie, Vanya. The poets of America, true to the holy soul of their divine art, have shed over some of the horrid realities of this trade the pathetic light of poetry. Longfellow and Whittier have told us, in verses beautiful as strung pearls, yet sorrowful as a mother’s tears, some of the incidents of this unnatural and ghastly traffic. Men of the Night’s Watch. “You killed them. “Please,” he squeaked, his voice thin and weak. He sounded a hundred years old. The sensitive old man had become so touchy and irritable that if I had answered him now that I wasn’t going to see them, he would certainly have been wounded, and have parted from me coldly. I hastened to say that I was on my way to look in on Anna Andreyevna, though I knew I was already late, and might not have time to see Natasha at all.. Later that day, garbed and gloved once more, Connington made an inspection of the castle and sent word to Homeless Harry Strickland and his captains to join him for a war council. Nine of them assembled in the solar: Connington and Strickland, Haldon Halfmaester, Black Balaq, Ser Franklyn Flowers, Malo Jayn, Ser Brendel Byrne, Dick Cole, and Lymond Pease. That made Daenerys laugh, coming from a girl so small. She relied so much on the little scribe that she oft forgot that Missandei had only turned eleven. Those were the first two ships he’d lost from his own third of the fleet. galeb spodnjice But not the last.. “Take me back to Winterfell, m’lord,” she begged, pale-faced and trembling. “I don’t know the way. RANAWAY from the subscriber, living near White’s Store, Anson County, on the 3d of May last, a bright mulatto boy, named BOB. Bob is about 5 feet high, will weigh 130 pounds, is about 22 years old, and has some beard on his upper lip.

[voidselfshipp]

La Mala Vida

Summary: medic finds out that living forever might be less of a hussle,and that maybe this century is worth saving.

Pt 2 here bcs Tumblr wont let me

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Life.

What do we do with it?people say it is what we want it to be, that the time we have to choose is limited because we dont live forever.

Josef would not agree with that statement.

Hes been living since the 18th Century, and after all these years everything seemed the same.

Its a rainy Day on teufort, why was someone like him still in there? After all the memories he had there.

He didnt quite now, maybe because its residents were quite literally Led poisoned idiots and nobody would suspect a thing from him.

--that would be five dollars Sir-- the Cashier said giving him the newspaper.

The german Man scowled and handed him the money taking it.

'Back in my zime zhe newspaper vas vay cheaper...' he thought.

He then goes to the nearby café, catching his reflection on the windowpane of said café.

He still looked quite handsome for a Man that is centuries old,he lived through Many things and yet there he was, alive and well.

He then sits against the Window minding his own bussines waiting to be attended.

He was so concentrated in the news that he didnt noticed the people that came in and out.

Nor the music playing.

But then, he looks up at the entrance, his face cant help but to contorn in a smile.

The newest generation has been quite of his interest as of lately.

The was something about zentenialls he couldnt quite put his finger on that caused him interest.

A generation that coped with problems with self depreciating humor, yet being able to form a revolution in the span of months in one single app,but also having the biggest of hearts for those in need.

'Siamo condannati alla brutta vida

Quería decirle, bambino

Que usted está trayéndose un flow bandido

Su secreto está guardao aquí conmigo

Sabe, yo respeto pero nunca olvido

Tarde, siempre tarde yo lo siento (wuh)

Les molesta todo lo que rondo

Devoluciones, no caigo en eso

Estoy buscándome yo los pesos, uh

Yo no quería que caiga preso (wow)

Regalito a la mamá, par de billes (par de billes)

Pa que se lo goce y de mí no se olvide (no se olvide)

Y la herida llevo aquí (llevo)

Dime tú si me vas a amar'

The lively music seemed to contrast with the calm ambience of the place.

Jerico pulls down the hood of her hoodie, she looks around for a place to sit, and goes to a far quiet corner of the place.

She sits down putting her bag close to her.

Her ears catch the melody playing and a homesick smile appears on her face tapping her feet to the rythm .

'La mala vida que me persigue

Los tiempos están cambiando y nosotros también

La calle está ardiendo, guiándome

Ni olvido ni perdón a lo que fuiste ayer

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala vida que no puedo salir

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala, mala

Fuck mala vida, mala, mala

Quería más de mí, pero no le di nada

Estamos nasty, curtiendo strada (strada)

Rompiendo tarima como si nada'

She was mouthing the lyrics of the song while softly rocking her body to it.

Medic catched a glimpse of this and smiled.

Finally they go and take his order, then the girls and the waiter dissapears behind the bar.

Jeris glance meets Josefs, she smiles and then goes down to her phone, a hand that was used as a rest for her cheek.

'Lo hacemos igual gore

Tenemos el peso en el pecho

Y aunque duela adentro, lo hacemos igual por los tiempos

Tiempos buenos, tiempo al fin

Tiempos malos que perdí (wuh)

Fuckin' mala vida, te escupo la face

Acuérdate de mí cuando me veas, no compro fake

Los fuckin' vis a vis me tienen maldecí

Estoy maldecía, no puedo salir

Regalito a la mamá, par de billes (par de billes)

Pa que se lo goce y de mí no se olvide (no se olvide)

Y la herida llevo aquí (llevo)'

He then looked back at his own stuff, the music, altough not his favourite was starting to get to him, and so his foot unintentionally started to tap following the beat of the song.

Now he wasnt the type of guy to dwell on his past, he only cared about defying modern science, well he did bring back a Man to life.

Good times.

He sighs, that smile that some found unnerving seemed to have warmed a little bit, the years were softening Him up.

Tough he feels someone watching him, his head turns to find the girl drawing on a piece of paper, what exactly? He couldnt tell.

Until her emerald green eyes met his, her cheeks flushed and looked away with a expression that screamed 'I hope the floor swallows me and never spits me again'.

He chuckled, and a side of him felt quite honored.

Maybe hed ask her for the drawing.

he drank his coffee and read the newspaper,the bitter taste of it wasnt as much of a kick in the mouth, they used to make them stronger too.

Meanwhile jerico couldnt help but dwell on her own problems while she waited.

The cold weather was rather relaxing to her, the cold and rain were always a comfort.

Though there wasnt much to do than wait right now, but shed find a way to entretain herself.

The café was too calm for her,way too calm.

But that is what happends when you used to live in a constant chaos, calm things seemed dangerous, a part of her really enjoyed this.

She sighs being absolutely bored out of her mind.

Her eyes look at the drawing that was just besides her.

Drawing that guy was fun, and the hairstyle did suit him well.

Her leg starts to bounce as she feels a familiar feel on her chest.

Maybe she should give it to him.

Or was it creepy? Did he even wanted it?

--miss heres your tea, and your pastries--the waiter said putting things down from the trail on the table--Anything else?

She shakes her head,the waiter asks her if she would want anything else, she says no.

She ends up paying her things and then enjoying them.

At least like that she doesnt have to go through the process of talking to anyone else than that waiter.

As she drinks though,Someone sits infront of her.

'Cant drink my tea in peace....' when she looks up however she jumps a bit on her Seat.

--Hallo-- the same Man she drew said-- I couldnt help but notice zhat jou vere drawing me,can I see?

The Man had his newspaper rolled under his arm, a huge smile and a coffee on his hand.

His accent, was rather cute, she thought.

--su sure!--Jerico smiles handing him the paper.

The Man looks at the drawing, and then smiles.

--Vould jou look at zhat! joure an true artist! Great job

Her chest warms and a huge grin appears on her face, her hands grip the tea cardboard Cup--thank you very much!

--Mind if I keep it?

--not at all!, I was hoping to give it to you actually,just didnt know if youd like it

--Are jou kidding? Of course id love zo! Oh wait im so stupid, I should pay jou for it ! Jour skills shouldnt be wasted.

As soon as he extends his hand with the Money jerico softly pushes it back.

Her hand had paint stains, yet the skin was soft and they were warm.

--No no please

--i insist!

--Take it as a gift Will you?

He then puts the money away, and nodds-- ah yes,jour generation is good at convincing people, plus good at arguing okay, I Vill keep my money,oh im josef by zhe vay...and zhanks

He extends his hand and she shakes it.

--Jerico

-- vhat a lovely name,vell I should get going , rain is going to get vorse and its a long valk home...lovely zalking vith jou jerico!

Jer smiles -- it was nice to talk to you too

Josef takes the drawing a leaves.

She just sits there, what just happened???

Thats enough interaction for today.

When she finished she grabbed her things and Walked home, the rain poured without mercy, she should have brought an umbrella.

She puts on her headphones and walks faster to the bus stop.

That of course had no FUCKING roof.

luckily the music drowned out the pesky conversation that a guy who obviously didnt know how to take a hint tried to start.

'Fuckin' mala vida, te escupo la face

Acuérdate de mí cuando me veas, no compro fake

Los fuckin' vis a vis me tienen maldecí

Estoy maldecía, no puedo salir

Regalito a la mamá, par de billes (par de billes)

Pa que se lo goce y de mí no se olvide (no se olvide)

Y la herida llevo aquí (llevo)

La mala vida que me persigue (yeah yeah yeah)

Los tiempos están cambiando y nosotros también

La calle está ardiendo, guiándome

Ni olvido ni perdón a lo que fuiste ayer

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala vida que no puedo salir

Mala vida que me persigue

Mala, mala

Está cayéndome lo que nunca te dije yo

Estoy creyendo que los buenos son los malos'

As soon as the music ended she no longer felt the water falling on her , she looks up.

Josef.

He held the umbrella close to her.

--Hi-- she sheepishly said taking off her headphones.

--Hallo frau,vaiting fot zhe bus I see?

--Yeah, thanks for the umbrella though...should have brought one with me...but didnt...

Both share a giggle.

[writer-jamie]

Just One Look (Jill x Carlos) Chapter 3: The Aftermath

story summary: jill meets carlos’ family after two months of dating. carlos promises it won’t be dramatic but that is very different to how the situation turned out.

chapter summary: jill has a heart to heart with marie and falls in love with carlos even more. 

word count: 2,044

a/n: hello! i'm back! i've been writing this chapter for a couple days now and i'm excited to finally post it! i have been pretty bad lately, with my mental and physical health. but i'll be fine 💞 so I hope you enjoy! (p.s. sorry for the cliffhanger! but there will be smut next chapter, i promise!)

Jill laid in the bed as Carlos walked around the room, cleaning up and busying himself. He was hyping himself up to ho talk to his sister again and to ensure everyone that nothing that the media said about the S.T.A.R.S team was fake. After their argument that morning, Jill hadn't moved from the bed. She pretended to sleep but Carlos knew she was just avoiding him and his family, and he didn't blamed her. If Jill’s family did what Carlos’ did then he would be hurt too. It wasn’t Camila’s fault, she was fed lies by the media. Jill didn't turn around to face Carlos but she could tell that he was worried. She didn't have to see his face to realise how upset he seemed, the sighs that were leaving his mouth every so often showed her. Jill felt bad for pretending but she couldn't just tell Carlos that she was still upset. After all it was his sister who upset him, and she wouldn't get between family. 

Carlos finished putting some clothes away before turning his full attention towards Jill. He leaned over Jill and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Te quiero.” He reminded her and left the room, closing the door slightly behind him. 

When Carlos went downstairs, Jill slowly moved from the bed and into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the large mirror and grimaced. It was obvious that she had been crying due to the puffiness off her cheeks and eyes and the redness of her skin. She looked down at her body and rubbed her skin, she felt ugly in her own skin. Jill never had an issue with her body before but ever since Raccoon City, she struggled to ever feel clean again. After the Mansion, she had scrubbed herself clean and showered until her skin was red raw but it was worse after the whole city had exploded. When her and Carlos were in the motel for a week, she showered for hours on end. Between having sex with Carlos and showering, the woman didn't do much else. She used to scrub herself so hard she would bleed, causing Carlos a lot of worry. Jill looked back up at the mirror and ran her hand down her arm, feeling where Nemesis infected her. 

Jill's arm never did heal. Properly that was. A circular scar to remind her of the virus that was still pumping through her veins. Although she had been cured, the T-virus still remained and poisoned her blood stream. Jill had to cancel her blood card, because after being pumped with virus and a vaccine nobody could use her blood again. Jill didn’t feel different. The nightmares didn't stop, they just got easier to deal with on a daily. With Carlos by her side it was a lot easier, he would cuddle her and wake her when the nightmares got too bad. He was a saint. And now he was heading downstairs to have an argument with his sister because she was just told the wrong thing. It wasn’t her fault, but it still fucking hurt to hear her say those things. Jill winced as she ran her hand down her arm and to her hands, feeling how rough they were. She ran her fingers over her stitches and the scars that remained as a constant reminder. Jill didn't even notice the woman walk into the room until she spoke to her. “Oh mi..” She gasped and walked towards Jill putting her hands on her face. Carlos’ mother, Marie, had found her way into the room and into the bathroom. She must had been shocked at the sight of Jill in her crop top and shorts, but she didn't care about that right now, all she cared about was that Jill was covered in scars, especially the large circular scar on her arm. Jill shook her head and looked down at the woman who was scanning her for any more, mainly newer, marks to no avail. “Marie..” She panicked, unknowing what to do or say. She had no idea what Carlos had told his parents in regards to his work and she didn't want to ruin any lies that they knew. “Raccoon City, yes?” She asked, well it was more of a statement than a question but the American just nodded her head, unable to speak anymore. “Carlos told us that he was there. You were there. He never told us what exactly happened. A erm.. terrorist attack the new said. Mierda.” Jill smiled as the woman swore, seeing her get more and more annoyed by the situation. “Carlos lies to protect us. Some company..ugh what is that name? Umbrella! That is the name! Yes that company. Carlos, oh mi dulce chico. He tries to keep us safe but his father always puts his nose where it doesn't belong.” Jill smiled. “Carlos does that. When we were in Raccoon City, he wouldn't let me go. Followed me around the whole city to make sure I was safe. He was a pain in my ass because I was so worried about him the whole time. He put himself on the line for me.” Jill took a seat on the top of the toilet, crossing her legs to cover her body slightly. “Oh amor, eso es porque él te ama.” Jill tilted her head slightly, she knew some Spanish, but not everything. “He loves you.” Marie smiled and kneeled down next to Jill and inspected her arm, making sure there wasn’t any left over stitches inside the skin or infections anywhere. She found nothing, so she decided to inspect her hands, her shoulders, everything on her body to make sure she was fine. After everything that Jill had been through, having someone fuss over her was nice. “Did you not want to spend your holiday with your parents?” Marie asked and Jill quickly shook her head. “My family isn't the loving type. My mother is from Japan and my father is from France. When I was younger I used to go to France every summer and then spend the winter in Japan but when I got to sixteen, everything just stopped. And they got divorced, and by the time I turned eighteen I joined the army and I was out of there. So I'm very happy to be here.” Jill looked down at Marie and saw tears start to appear in her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn't-” “No no it wasn’t you chica, it’s just after hearing Carlos and Camila talking and hearing what you have been through. You deserve to be here with a loving family.” Jill held Marie’s hand and smiled down at her. Jill jumped slightly hearing the door swing open. 

Carlos. 

“¡Esa perra no sabe lo que dice! ¿Por qué tiene que escuchar a esos cabrones? ¡Mierda!” Carlos looked around the room for Jill as she stayed in the bathroom with his mother, who looked very angry by the language he was speaking. “Jill? Babe?” He opened the bathroom door and saw Jill on the toilet seat, eyes puffy from crying and his mother next to her. Carlos didn't even have to ask what was wrong with his ma because the look on her face was enough. “Ma.” He walked into the room and watched as the woman stood up and walked towards him. She slapped him on the back and chest a couple times, that wasn’t where she was aiming but due to the man’s height she didn't have a choice. Jill chuckled as she remained seated on the toilet, watching the scene play out. 

“¡Carlos! ¡Tienes una hermosa y hermosa mujer sentada en su momento malo y estás demasiado ocupada peleando con tu hermana! Ordenaré a Camila, asegúrate de que esa chica se sienta amada y si descubro que ha sido lastimada o ha estado llorando de nuevo, ¡que Dios me ayude, hijo!” Carlos looked at the anger that had spread over his mother’s face and just nodded along, watching her walk back to Jill. Marie placed a kiss on her forehead and left the room, shutting the door behind her. 

The room became unbearably silent as Carlos stood at one end and Jill at the other. Carlos shifted from one foot to the other, unknowing what to say. He just got told off by his mother after an argument with his sister all because of Jill. It was very awkward. 

Jill stood up and walked towards the man. She refused to look in his eyes but put her hands on his chest and leaned forward, placing her head on his chest. Her cheeks rose and fell with Carlos’s chest. The man moved his hands and put the against the woman’s hair, rubbing his thumbs against her neck. Jill sighed and stayed in this position for a couple seconds more before moving away from his chest and looking up at him. “Lo siento.” He spoke and moved his hands to her neck and continued to rub circle in her nape. “It’s not your fault.” She put her hands on his arm and smiled up at him. Jill watched as the man’s face became more relaxed as the guilt started to leaving his body. “Your mom is great. She is so honest about everything.” Jill smiled and looked at him, rubbing his skin with her hands. “Yeah she's great. And honest. Which is good...but also not the best.” He chuckled and looked at Jill. The room suddenly became silent again as she moved her hands away from him and walked under his arms and into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed before putting her hands in her lap. Carlos turned around to face her, watching her move to the bed and just sit. This must have been really affecting her. And Carlos would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. He was so so worried about her. The nightmares were one thing, but her physically and mentally being upset and hurt was another thing. Carlos knew how to deal with the nightmares after months of helloing her, but this was something he didn't know how to help. And that scared him. 

Carlos kneeled down on the bed in front of Jill and took her hands into his, placing a kiss on her hands and knuckles, comforting her the best he could. “Tell me how to help you. Please Amor. I’ll do anything to help you.” She put her hand in his hair and kissed his forehead. “I’m just worried about your family. They only know what Umbrella has told them. How can I expect them to feel comfortable around me? Especially with the children?” She asked, putting her hands against his cheeks. “Because i trust you enough to bring you home. I wouldn't bring anyone dangerous home, and they know that. Camila’s husband is very two-faced and likes drama. She has only heard bad things from him. Sebastian isn't a good man, but he treats my sister well so that's why he's still around. I promise you, Sebastian is the only one who believes anything that Umbrella is saying. Mama and Papa love you. And I'm pretty sure Ma is already planning the wedding.” Carlos laughed and put his spare hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss to it. 

Jill leaned down and took his cheeks into her hands and kissed him deeply, running her fingers over his cheeks as he moved closer to her. She leaned back on the bed and he hovered above her, his lips exploring her skin on her neck and rubbing her hips. She moved slightly underneath him, before looking at the unlocked door. “You wanna lock that first?” She asked and raised her eyebrows remembering back to the last two times they tried and were interrupted. Carlos jumped up and locked the door, making sure they wouldn’t be interrupted again. “Not again.” He joked and looked at Jill from the door before taking his shirt off. He smiled and walked towards the woman, running his warm hands up and down her sides before taking her clothes off, leaving her exposed. 

“So Mr Oliveira, should we begin?”

Spanish to English Translations:

Te quiero - I love you

Oh mi - Oh my..

Mierda - Bullshit

Oh mi dulce chico. - Oh my sweet boy.

Oh amor, eso es porque él te ama. - Oh love, that's because he loves you.

¡Esa perra no sabe lo que dice! ¿Por qué tiene que escuchar a esos cabrones? ¡Mierda! - That bitch doesn't know what she's saying! Ugh why does she have to listen to those fuckers? Fuck!

¡Carlos! ¡Tienes una hermosa y hermosa mujer sentada en su momento malo y estás demasiado ocupada peleando con tu hermana! Ordenaré a Camila, asegúrate de que esa chica se sienta amada y si descubro que ha sido lastimada o ha estado llorando de nuevo, ¡que Dios me ayude, hijo! - Carlos! You have a beautiful, gorgeous woman sat their having a bad time at the moment and you are too busy fighting with your sister! I'll sort out Camila, you make sure that girl feels loved and if i find out shes been hurt or has been crying again, God help me son!

Lo siento. - I’m sorry.

Amor - Love (as in the nickname)

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

libera nos a malo chapter 9: At St Patrick’s Purgatory

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina Rated for Mature Audiences Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content Chapter 9/21

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chapter 10+ >>

libera nos a malo masterpost+

This was quickly becoming an adventure that Miranda had no intention of recounting to her pious mother. As she coaxed her boat, the patient Molly Brown, through the moonlit waters of Lough Derg, intent on excavation and theft, she was almost ashamed of herself. If her mother ever found out that she’d come to the holy site on Station Island as little better than a cat burglar, she wasn’t sure she would ever live down the shame of having disappointed Monica Rose so severely.

The bitter night wind whipped through her cloak, and she pulled the traveling blanket more closely around her shivering body, pushing all questions of morality aside for another day. She’d been hired to do a job. She’d see it through to the end—and let the priest sort it out in confession for her later.

“No perfume tonight, Topolina?” Dante Sanguini asked. The pale moonlight made his face shine with an unearthly glow, and his constant shifting in his seat bespoke his discomfort on the water.

“Not while I’m working.” Miranda’s attention was divided between her companion and keeping the little boat upright with all his squirming. “I don’t guess you could hold still until we get to the island, could you?”

“Over this lake? No. And if I liked you less I would not have agreed to pass over this cursed water in the first place. Let alone twice in one evening.”

“Sorry about that. But I think you’ll find that I kept that difficulty in mind when I set your fee for tonight.”

“Si, you were more than generous. But I will be happy to leave this place behind.”

“Agreed.”

The water was choppy, and by the time she landed the boat ashore, even her usually stalwart stomach was queasy. Dante stumbled as his feet hit dry land, and he shuddered visibly, apparently as uncomfortable on the island as he’d been on the water. Miranda flattened and folded the boat as quickly as her numb fingers would allow, and by the time she had it stowed in a tunic pocket, the vampire had recovered himself.

She braced her feet on the frozen ground to cast her disillusionment charm. An unpleasant, fuzzy feeling began in her toes and crept up her spine, where it settled at the base of her skull. It was disorienting to be unable to see her arms or legs as the charm caused her body to effectively disappear, but invisibility cloaks were as expensive as they were unreliable.

“May we proceed?” Dante asked impatiently, his voice emitting from a shapeless fog that hovered around her.

“Let’s get this over with,” Miranda replied.

In spite of the wind, there was a silence covering the island that felt accusatory to Miranda’s guilty conscience. As she trod over the dead grass, the soles of her feet pricked inside her boots. Over the tops of the barren trees, the cloister and the church gleamed in the moonlight; their modern renovations a sharp contrast to the feel of the ancient earth on which they stood. The arched sign emblazoned with St Patrick’s Purgatory reminded Miranda more of the entrance to a theme park than a hell-mouth. As they went under the sign, the stinging in her feet became impossible to ignore. Acting on some impulse she did not understand, she paused beneath the arch and pulled off her boots and socks. The earth froze to her skin, but at least the damned pricking stopped as she spread out her bare toes in the frosty dirt.

“What are you doing?” the vampiric fog demanded softly.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back.

She could sense Dante’s disapproval, but they did not waste time arguing. As they moved over the well-kept path, she stuffed her boots into her knapsack. The lake lashed at the shore behind them, and even though she knew they were invisible to any mortal inhabitants, she could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. Soon her feet were numb, but she could not bring herself to put her boots back on, as though her pain might make up for some of her sacrilegious intentions.

As they drew closer to the interior of the island, the lurking church and the surrounding trees blocked some of the wind. Miranda trotted silently over the path towards the curved labyrinth that was their destination. The vampiric fog kept pace with her easily, pricking her skin where it brushed her, even under the cover of the disillusionment charm. When they reached the edge of the maze, the fog solidified, Dante’s polished shoes crunching the brittle gravel into dust. Miranda released her charm, shaking off the magical invisibility and numbness as they darted through the twisting path towards its heart.

“Do you feel any better?” Miranda asked.

“No. Worse,” Dante replied.

They reached the center of the maze, and Miranda took the compass that Octavius Pepper had given her from her pocket. It was made of heavy brass, and etched with markings she’d been unable to decipher in the short amount of time it had been in her possession. Its arrow started to swing back and forth, moving languidly but showing no indication of settling anywhere. While they waited, Dante scuffed his shoe in the gravel, and his lip curled to reveal a single, pointed canine.

“Well?” he prompted.

Miranda opened her mouth to tell him to relax when the ground split open. Cursing, she reached blindly for Dante as she clung to the compass, even as the metal began to burn her hand. One of the vampire’s sinewy arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her roughly against his wiry frame. She put her arms around his neck, and though the rubble crashed over them, they glided slowly down into the darkness. The memory of the cave under the One Wood Church and its vengeful Spirit was at the fore of her mind, taunting her with its horrors. She buried her face in Dante’s shoulder and forced herself to breathe.

They landed lightly on a rocky floor. The moonlight filtered down through the gravel and dust that had been kicked up by the cave in, sickly and obscured by the depths. A tremor went through Miranda’s body as she realized how deep they must be, but she was determined to keep control of her mind tonight. Dante pressed his cool lips to her temple, and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before releasing her. She dusted herself off quickly, and pulled her wand from her sleeve.

“Lumos,” she cast.

Dante hissed and flinched back from the light. “Must you?”

“We can’t all see in the dark like you.”

“Figlio di puttana,” he muttered.

“What was that?” she asked archly as she watched the wildly spinning needle of the compass.

“I said, which way do we go now?”

“I’m working on it.” The needle stopped all at once, pointing into the darkness. Miranda lifted her wand to see a narrow cleft in the rock, barely wide enough for them to pass through. “Fuck. Why do I keep taking these underground gigs?”

He laughed and took her hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm as though they were going for a stroll in the park. “For the money. And the company.”

His good humor was contagious in spite of her discomfort with the enclosed space and the gravely dirt that cut into the soles of her feet. “Excellent points. Tell me one of your yarns so that I won’t think about being trapped in this pit for all eternity.”

“Nothing would please me more. Have I told you about the first time I was in France?”

“Not that I recall.”

“Excellent.” Dante let go of her arm to enter the passage before her, but his calm, melodious voice betrayed no concern about the danger inherent in their current situation. “It was in 1389. I remember, because it was the year I turned fourteen, and we were escorting La Contessa Valentina Visconti to finally be wed to Louis de Valois. She was as kind as she was beautiful, and whatever part of my heart that was not full of my path to knighthood was full of her.”

“You rogue. Did you steal her from Louis?”

“No. Everyone loved Louis, especially Valentina. It was enough to love them both from a distance, and to serve them. Life in Melun was good for a long time. I learned to ride, to fight, to write poetry, and to make love to the ladies of the court. I was quick at my studies and unimportant enough that I could slip away to explore on my own.”

“That sounds ideal.” The blue light from her wand cast dancing shadows on the wall, and there was a dread curling in the corner of her mind that one of those shadows would turn into a cat like the Spirit of the Mine. She pushed it down the best she could and listened to Dante’s voice. “Then what happened?”

“I saw battle and earned my knighthood five years later, in the year that Charles was born. I also met two men who were to change the course of my life, each in his own way.”

“Who were they?”

“One was a minstrel, a servant of Louis. His name was Herbelin, and I could have listened to him sing forever. We met in secret of course, but I was good at keeping secrets, even then. And it was amusing to watch the ladies swooning over his dark curls and merry laugh, knowing who it was he moaned for when there was none but the moon to see.”

“How delicious. And the other?”

“Was Nicolas Flamel, and of course his good wife Perenelle.”

“The man who made the Philosopher’s Stone?”

“The very one. A knight off the battlefield is little more than an errand boy, and there were many messages and manuscripts that flew back and forth between Nicolas and the royalty of France.”

“Did you ever get to see the stone?”

“I did. In fact…Cazzo!”

Dante disappeared, and Miranda had not taken a full step before she fell into the dank pit after him. She flailed once, but when she could not find the vampire in the darkness, she changed tactics, gathering her magic to cushion her fall and relaxing her body to be ready to roll when she hit bottom. The impact with the dirt floor knocked the wind out of her, and she coughed as she rolled into a crouch. Nothing leapt out of the darkness to pounce on her, except for a courtly vampire who graciously helped her to her feet.

“Are you in one piece, Topolina?” he asked with a dashing smile.

“I’m fine.” She wiped the dirt out of her eyes, and her hand came away bloody. “Mostly fine. Do you want to take care of that?”

His eyes turned completely black, glowing with an unearthly fire. “Ho un debole per te.”

He ran his tongue over the wound on her forehead, a feral growl rumbling from his throat as he lapped at her blood. The gash tingled, healing under his Undead magic. A familiar thrill went down her spine as he nuzzled the side of her neck, grazing her flesh with the cold pressure of his lips, followed by a single, teasing canine. Guilt and desire tangled together inside her, and she stepped back a few paces to give herself space to breathe. She and Dante had been skirting the line of what even her flexible morality would call decent since they’d arrived in Ireland the night before, and angry as she was with Severus, she still wasn’t certain she wanted to cross it.

“We should keep going. There’s no telling what all is down here,” she said.

He extended his canines to their full length, and lisped like an actor in a melodrama, “I think you know exactly what is down here. Children of the night. My friends.”

As if in answer, a swarm of bats swooped down from the ceiling, chittering as they buzzed their new companions. Miranda ducked as they passed close to her head, hoping they would not tangle themselves in her hair, while Dante lifted his arms, welcoming his familiars. The bats danced around the vampire until Miranda started to laugh, and then flew off into the darkness beyond.

“Va bene, there is the smile I like to see,” Dante said.

“It’s good to have something to smile about,” Miranda admitted, turning her attention back to the compass. The arrow was pointing firmly in the direction the bats had taken. “It looks like your friends know the way.”

“As they should. Andiamo.”

The path was rough with brittle rock that crunched and snapped under them as they followed its twisting progress. Miranda knew without looking that her feet would be bruised and bloodied when they made it back to the surface, but some instinctive part of her brain insisted that she continue as she was. The longer they walked, the rougher the terrain became, snaking upwards at a sharp incline. Pacing her breathing became more difficult, and her fears were ever at the edge of her consciousness, tempting her to panic.

“I think you were telling me about the Philosopher’s Stone?” she panted when the imaginings became too much to bear.

“Allora, the stone. I only saw it once, when I was assisting Nicolas and Perenelle with their travel preparations. There were many who would have liked to claim the stone for themselves, and it required both an Obscuro and to be tucked into Perenelle’s petticoats in order for them to slip away with it.”

“Where were they going in such a rush?”

“It was not the where that was the trouble, it was the who. Madama Bonne had a taste for the stone, and she was less than pleased when she was unable to put her hands on it.”

Miranda had met Bonne de Valois once. It had not been a pleasant experience. “I can imagine. How is madama these days?”

He laughed. “I would steer clear of Italy for another decade or so, were I in your shoes.”

“Thanks for the warning. What happened to Herbelin? Did he become a vampire too?”

“No. He did not.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Not as sorry as I was. But I should go back to Louis. He was the beginning of the end.”

All at once they found themselves in a tiny room of packed dirt, the ceiling of which was so low that both of them had to stoop. A flickering green flame coming from an unknown source lit the space, revealing a mattress of rotting straw, a decaying bowl and spoon on a sagging shelf, and little else. The walls were painted with faded pictures in the ancient Celtic style, and between the crosses and saints were letters spelling out texts too worn to read.

“This is the place,” Miranda said, sliding the compass into a pocket.

Dante’s canines were showing. “I was afraid of that.”

“We’d better work fast.”

She chanted the incantation that Mr Pepper had drilled into her a few days earlier, singing through its chromatic tones in a clear, silvery voice. A white light burst out of the tip of her wand, wrapped itself around the straw mattress, and lifted it off the floor. Another light joined the first, piercing the floor under the mattress until a thin crack appeared. Dante flexed his fingers as they stretched into evil looking claws, and crouched over the crack in the floor to dig into the dry dirt. Miranda’s body flashed hot and cold as she struggled to keep the bed aloft, sweat rolling down her face and neck. The green light began to spin, causing her stomach to lurch. A buzzing chatter droned in the room, and she felt fingers curling around her ankles. She looked down in horror, but saw nothing. Then she blinked, and saw the gnarled hands pulling on her legs; but when she blinked again—there was nothing.

She fought down the urge to scream as Dante jerked a heavy length of rusted chain from the hole he’d dug. He stumbled backwards, grunting as he landed on his backside. Miranda waved a shaking hand, sending a spell to push the dirt back into the hole, then she lowered the bed with a thunk. Still trembling, she opened her bag for Dante to shove the chain into. His teeth were bared with the effort, a red-tinted sweat covered his brow, and his hands look like they’d been burned.

“Are you alright?” Miranda asked as she closed the bag tightly around the chain.

“Never better,” he snarled.

“Are you going to need a drink before we go back over the water?”

He his eyes flashed with a black, hungry fire. “I appreciate the offer, but if I were to start drinking from you now I doubt I would be able to stop. The sooner we get off this island, the better.”

“No shit.”

Miranda took out the compass, stamping her feet in an attempt to shake off the feeling of ghostly fingers. The needle started spinning again, and showed no signs of stopping.

“You don’t think we have to go all the way back down, do we?” she asked.

“We are close to the surface now,” Dante replied. “I can dig us out if need be.”

She paced towards the far wall, unable to remain still any longer. A spiral drawn in a dull red caught her attention, undulating in the flickering light. She traced a careless finger over it, and the spectral flames engulfed her. A scream welled up in her throat, but when she opened her mouth she could only choke on the sulfurous smoke. Hands grabbed at her ankles and wrists; and there was a wailing and gnashing of teeth.

And then there was darkness.

*****

Miranda’s body was terribly sore when she opened her eyes again. She was lying on a narrow bed with clean, coarse sheets and a warm, quilted blanket; and she could feel that someone had taken the trouble to wrap her feet in bandages. The small room was plain, with a crucifix on the facing wall and a little window letting in bright, welcome sunlight. A desk with a lamp and chair completed the space, and her arsenal of pistol, knife, and wand was laid out neatly on top of the desk. Her knapsack sat safely beside the bed, apparently untouched. Wincing, she pushed herself up, meaning to check the bag for their night’s work, when the door to the room opened.

A man in a rough brown robe and worn sandals entered. His curly brown hair was tinged with gray, and his lined face wore a friendly smile. She guessed he was about her father’s age, and his green eyes were bright and kind. He carried a tray set with a teapot and cup, brown bread, and a steaming bowl of soup. Her mouth started to water and her stomach to growl at the homey aroma.

“Good morning, lass,” he said, placing the tray on her lap. “Welcome to Station Island. I think you’ve had quite a time of it.”

She gave him a bland smile. “Good morning, Father. It was about what I expected it to be.”

“I’m no priest, only a simple friar. Brother Ronan, at your service.”

“Thank you.”

Brother Ronan turned to pull the chair out from the desk and bring it to her bedside. While he was busy with his task, she quickly cast a silent revelio venenum, musing that she’d been spending so much time with Severus his habits were rubbing off on her. Her instincts told her that Brother Ronan was trustworthy enough, but his casual acceptance of her magical artifacts—along with her missing vampire—were enough to give her pause.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said between grateful bites of the hearty soup. “I’m Miranda Rose.”

“Rose you say? You aren’t from County Cork by chance, are you?” he asked as he sat down in the chair to keep her company while she ate.

“Originally, yes. But my line of the family has been in America for four generations now.”

“America? I was there once. It’s a fine country. I wouldn’t want to live there, but I’d not be sorry to visit again someday.”

His easy manner prompted her to be more direct.

“May I ask you how I came to be…wherever it is we are?” she asked.

“This is the pilgrim’s dormitory. I found you and your friend on my way in from Matins. There aren’t many of us here in the off months, but we like to say the hours together in the main church even so.”

“What happened to my friend?”

“I thought it best to give him a room in the basement.”

She raised her eyebrows, but kept her tone even, wondering if she was going to have to Obliviate the friendly friar. “Are you a wizard, Brother Ronan?”

He laughed as though she’d told a fine joke. “Me? No, not at all. But your friend is not the first vampire I’ve seen in my life, nor are you the first witch. He helped me bring you here, and I gave him a bottle of the sort of drink he needs, and a room in the cellar for the day. It was too close to dawn to risk taking you both off the island.”

“Why are you helping us?”

“It’s my duty to help those who need it. I suggest you eat and rest as much as you can for now.”

“Will we be allowed to leave tonight?”

“You’re not a prisoner, Miss Rose. You and your friend may leave at any time.”

His kindness prompted a new wave of guilt, but she carefully concealed her shame.

“Thank you Brother Ronan. We appreciate your help.”

“I’m glad I was here to give it. Is this your first time to Station Island?”

“It is. My first time to Ireland at all, actually.”

His voice took on a note of pride like a fond parent. “You should come back in the summer. Everything is green and you could do the actual pilgrimage then. I suspect you’re hearty enough.”

“The pilgrimage?”

“Three days of fasting and prayer, and the pilgrims visit all the old hermitages of the saints.”

“That sounds grueling.”

“It is. But people come by the thousands to do it. Have since the old days.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

She finished her tray, and Brother Ronan took it, wishing her a good day on his way out. She forced herself to wait to a count of fifty before opening her bag, where she found the rusted chains lying, unharmed. After she’d resealed the sack and warded the door for good measure, she slept again. Her dreams were strange and troublesome, but she could not remember them when she awoke later that afternoon.

Gathering her wand, she went down the hall in search of the loo, taking advantage of the communal showers when she found it. She managed to heal the scrapes on her feet with a few quick spells, and the hot water did wonders for the aches in her muscles. A quick Scourgify made her clothes once again fit for company, and she padded back to her room, refreshed.

Her fingers itched for a cigarette, but she decided she would rather find Dante before indulging in a smoke. After pulling on her boots, she gathered her things from the desk, made her bed, and left a generous tithe in Irish pounds on top of the pillow. The empty dormitory was as simple as her room had been, decorated with candles, crucifixes, and saints painted in the Celtic style. When she reached the cellar, she cast another revelio, which illuminated a door at the end of the hall in a faint blue light. She knew better than to startle Dante when he was sleeping, and she let her feet fall heavily on the floor as she approached. When she reached the door she rapped on it sharply.

“Come in,” came Dante’s voice from within.

The windowless cell was in total darkness, though she could feel Dante’s eyes on her. He flicked on the desk lamp in deference to her mortal vision as she closed the door. An empty bottle and a bloodstained cup sat on the desk near the lamp. Dante was lounging on the bed like a lazy cat, apparently none the worse for wear after their mishap. His clothes and person were clean, and the burn marks on his hands were gone. He rose as she came into the room, putting his hands on her shoulders when they met.

“You are well?” he asked earnestly. “When the hell-mouth overwhelmed you I feared you would be more permanently injured.

“I feel alright,” she replied, shivering at his touch. “A little sore, but alright. What happened?”

He was running the fingers of one hand up the side of her neck, and his eyes were turning black with vampiric lust. “You didn’t expect the chains to go without a struggle did you? Generally hell-mouths dislike being robbed.”

“That’s why they pay me the big money.”

“I’ve always admired your durability.”

His hand tightened on the back of her head, and he crashed his cold lips into hers. She returned his kiss with guilty fury, her body thrilling with the way that his lips turned from ice to fire as they absorbed her warmth. The tingling chill from his touch crept over her skin, causing her to tremble, and she clung to his shirt as he seared a trail of savage kisses down to her neck, where her pulse was beating wildly.

“Does your offer of a drink still stand, Bellissima?” he purred.

“Yes,” she gasped before she could think better of it.

There was a pair of sharp pricks, and then a heady rush of ecstasy as he drank from her. It was as intoxicating as she remembered it��but even as her body sang with pleasure, it was Severus’s name on the tip of her tongue, Severus’s arms she wanted to be holding her, Severus’s lips she craved on her skin.

Dante, ever the gentleman, brought her down carefully, ending the vampiric kiss and healing the wounds on her throat with his agile tongue. Her mental protections were useless against Legilimency of the blood, and she had no doubt that the vampire was well aware of the man whose name was lodged in her heart. He guided her to sit on the bed, and rummaged in her knapsack until he procured a bottle of Blood Replenisher, the contents of which he tipped into her mouth. She nearly choked at the taste of the elderflower and lemon—Severus had created this variant of the potion to suit her personally, and his care for her was yet another lash of guilt.

When she’d gotten it down, she sagged against the wall, wishing she could cry that she might gain some relief from the feelings balled up in her chest. Dante pulled out a pair of cigarettes for the two of them, lighting them with the touch of an elegant finger.

“Perhaps it is time for you to tell me about Severus,” he said wryly after they’d both taken a bracing drag.

She let out a dry laugh. “What can I say? He’s an ass. He’s good at chess, potions, and dark magic. He likes to read and has a voice like sin.”

“No wonder you like him. What’s the problem then?”

“The problem is he’s sunk so deep in the war that’s coming that it’d take a miracle for him to come through it alive. I don’t think I can stand to lose someone like that. Not after David and Isaac.”

“The war is already here. Why don’t you convince him to run?”

She shook her head. “No. I think leaving would kill him, or at least his spirit. He has to see this thing through to the end.”

“That’s a shame. You might have wished for a more sensible partner.”

“I might have wished for a lot of things. I’m sorry to disappoint  you.”

He took her hand and pressed his lips to it. “No, Topolina. No apologies are necessary between us. Allora, I was telling you about Louis.”

She was grateful for the change of subject. “Yes. Please finish the story.”

“Louis came to a bitter end,” he said, a sad smile spreading over his shapely lips. “His enemies in the Burgundian court sent assassins after him, attacking him in the middle of the street one November night. Valentina never recovered. She died of a broken heart not a year afterwards. Herbelin and I stayed with young Charles, intent on helping the boy regain some order and beauty in his court. And we were successful, for a time, until a fever took my Herbelin from me.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Life was bitter to me then, but I feared death too much to seek it from my own hands. And as Charles started to play at war, I believed that my time would come soon enough. I thought that it had after the battle at Agincourt. But there are scavengers on a battlefield, and one of them found me.”

“Was he the one who made you a vampire?”

“Yes, but not, I think, on purpose. As he drained me, I latched onto his wrist, biting him in my frenzy. He left me for dead, but enough of his blood had entered my veins for me to rise again.”

“Fuck. What did you do?”

He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Just what you’d expect. I wandered the countryside in a rage until I found my way to Nicolas’s door. I might have killed him, and Perenelle too. But he tucked a bunch of mistletoe behind my ear, and it brought me back to my senses long enough for him to take me to Madama Bonne.”

“I wish he’d led you to a better Mistress.”

He shrugged. “There are worse, believe me.”

There was a light knocking at the door, and Miranda and Dante vanished their cigarettes before opening it to admit Brother Ronan. If the friar was at all surprised to find them together, he did not show it, for which Miranda was grateful.

“The sun’s down,” Brother Ronan said briskly as he handed each of them a dark bottle. “Best if we get the both of you on your way before anyone starts asking questions.”

“Thank you for your help,” Miranda replied. “I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything, lass. But if you’ll remember me in your prayers now and then I’d be grateful to you.”

“That I can promise you.”

He led them through a winding hallway that opened at last near the shore. The wind was quiet tonight, and the lake was like a mirror of black glass. Miranda pulled the Molly Brown from her pocket and murmured the spell to make her seaworthy. Brother Ronan whistled appreciatively.

“That’s a nice bit of magic,” the friar said.

“I’m fond of it myself,” Miranda replied.

“And if I never saw a boat again, it would be too soon,” Dante laughed.

Brother Ronan held the boat steady while the witch and the vampire climbed into it. When they were ready, he gave it a firm push, and his sandaled feet splashed into the lake as the boat began to cut through dark waters.

“God bless you both!” he called, giving them a final wave before turning and hurrying back towards the church and his brothers.

“As if I didn’t feel guilty enough,” Miranda sighed.

“You must learn to overcome such frailty,” Dante chided, opening his bottle and drinking deeply of its contents.

“You’re probably right.”

Miranda tugged the cork from her bottle and gulped down the cold water inside, parched from the effects of the Blood Replenisher. They were quiet for a time as the Molly Brown made quick progress over the calm lake. Every inch away from Station Island was bringing her home to the problems she’d left behind, and she felt no closer to solving them.

“Did you ever love anyone after Herbelin?” she asked suddenly.

The vampire gazed up at the clear, star-filled sky. “Oh. Many times, Topolina. Some I have left. Some have left me. Some I have laid in the grave.”

“But how can you stand it? Or does it stop hurting after the tenth or the twentieth or the hundredth time?”

He took her hands and his, and the expression on his face made her wonder if he knew her heart better than she did herself.

“It always hurts,” he said. “Every time.”

“But is it worth it?” she persisted.

His dark eyes were wise in his youthful face, and they sparked with a mirth that all his centuries of loss could not dim

“Yes,” he replied. “Every time.”

*****

Station Island is the location of St Patrick’s Purgatory, which has been a pilgrimage site from the middle ages. It is also supposedly and entrance to Purgatory or Hell, depending on the legend. The pilgrimage is as grueling as Brother Ronan describes, and continues to this day. It is performed barefoot, which is why I have the magic of the place prompting Miranda to take of her boots and socks in this chapter.

The adventure of the One Wood Church and the Spirit of the Mine is told in chapter 24 of Moonlight: The Tale of the Three Miners.

Dante is telling Miranda the brief history of Louis, duc d’Orléans (1372-1407) , and his wife Valentine of Milan (1371-1408). Their son Charles, duc d’Orléans (1394-1465) is the author of the Valentine’s Day poem that Severus was musing over back in chapter seven.

Matins is one of the hours of prayer, traditionally said in the middle of the night. It’s the longest of the hours.

Figlio di puttana: Son of a bitch (Dante is cursing at the light, not Miranda) Cazzo: Fuck Ho un debole per te: I’m weak for you Va bene: Good, okay, alright Andiamo: Let’s go Bellissima: Gorgeous Allora: So, then, well

*****

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[skammovistarplus]

Culture and Translation - S01 E04

Slowly getting through these, although they’re out of order. I’ll post an index when I’m done with season 1. 🤦‍♂️

CLIP 1: A wild mom appears

22:30 is a perfectly cromulent time to have dinner in Spain, but ngl, I’d have it a bit earlier on a school night. Eva’s supposed to be at school at 8:30.

Eva is eating the Hacendado store-brand “natillas de vainilla” from Mercadona (vanilla custard). Lol can you imagine that Skam España gets enormous, and people from abroad make trips to Mercadona because of Skam España?

Pesada (“annoying”): Okay, I love “pesada” because it literally translates as “heavy,” but it actually means that someone is being annoying/nagging to the point where it feels tiring to put up with them. There’s an idiom in Spanish: “eres más pesado que una vaca en brazos” (you’re heavier than carrying a cow bridal-style) and I find the visual hilarious.

CLIP 2: Carrying their bags for some reason

This clip dropped at 11:39, but the characters are all carrying their bags and backpacks. You don’t take your backpack out for recess. You leave it in the classroom and take the valuable stuff with you. We don’t have lockers.

Ni de reojo (“Not even a glance”):  Looking at someone “de reojo” is looking at them from the corner of your eyes, but that’d have been too long.

Bien, normal (“Good, fine”): In Spain we often use “normal” to respond to small talk (how are you doing, what’s the weather like, how was dinner with your family, stuff like that). I went with fine, as I haven’t really heard “normal” being used that way in English.

CLIP 3: Are these our biology buddies?

I do like the juxtaposition of Eva telling Nora everything is fine, only for Eva to UNLOAD on Lucas the very next clip.

I can’t watch this clip without remembering that I did the Social Sciences track of Baccalaureate, and yet, I had to translate a fucking optical microscope exercise for Skam. This fucking show.

Es que es muy heavy, Eva (“You crossed a line, Eva”): I also really like the Spanish slang “heavy.” It comes from heavy metal, and it’s meant to bring to mind the intensity of the harder heavy metal bands. And hey! It shows up on Urban Dictionary with the same meaning: Serious and intense, but also too much. I think this might be outdated slang in the US?

Y yo estaba rayada (“And I was going crazy”): I’m pretty sure that to be “rayado” comes from “discos rayados,” i.e. skipping records. When you’re “rayado,” you are stuck on a specific thought or emotion to the point of obsession or being unable to move past it. It’s NOT “sounding like a broken record,” as in English, because being “rayado” is internal. You’re stuck on a continuous loop within your own mind. It comes up several times throughout the show, and I’m pretty sure I used a different expression each time because nothing felt quite right.  

Tú qué vas a decir (“Like you’d say anything different”): The literal translation would be, “what are you going to say.” However, that sounded like it could be a question, even a rhetorical one, when Eva is throwing Lucas’ words back in his face.

CLIP 4: Carrot cake

Carrot cake is a relatively new import in Spain. I think it’s trendy for coffee shops to have it on their menus now. Since it’s so recent, it was adopted with its English name, rather than the Spanish translation. This also applies to brownies, pancakes (which were actually called “tortitas” for a while, but now it’s become trendier to call them pancakes), muffins and cupcakes.

Aquí os quedáis (“I’m out”): Lucas actually says, “you stay here,” but the connotation is that Lucas is leaving because he’s Done with Eva and Jorge. Eva and Jorge can choose to stay or leave or do whatever, but Lucas is leaving and not taking Eva and/or Jorge with him.

Que aproveche, chicos (“Enjoy, you two”): Enjoy, as in enjoy your meal, of course! “Chicos” could be translated as “kids,” and when the teachers use it, I do translate it as kids. But the waitress is calling Eva and Jorge “chicos” just because they’re younger than her, not because she’s calling them children. You are either young enough to be “chicos” or old enough to be “señores.”

I mean, if Lucas is going to parent trap them, he could’ve at least paid for the cake. This entrapment with an unpaid bill is kinda rude!

CLIP 5: Nailing Viri

Eva has a palmera in her hand! See Wikipedia for info on this supposedly palm leaf-shaped pastry. The picture captioned “Pig’s ears” is closer to the one Eva has in this clip,

Un clavo saca otro clavo (“there are other fish in the sea”): The literal translation is, “a nail takes out other nail,” as in, the construction kind of nail. The connotations of both sayings are a little different. “There are other fish in the sea” has the connotation that you’ve been dumped, but there are plenty of people in the world for you to explore. “A nail takes out another nail” can mean you’ve been dumped or that your love is unrequited, and that the only way to get over it is to find someone new asap. I also found a debate in a translation forum over whether the nail in the idiom means a dick, as in, only by hopping on another dick you can get over the previous dick, and I can honestly say I have no idea if the idiom is about dicks or not.

Viri con la mierda (“Viri with the junk”): Viri actually says “Viri with the shit.” Haha. This girl squad is so gentle and well-spoken.

Quick note on grades: Grades can be 0 to 10, where 10 is the highest grade. You pass with a 5. Anything under 5 is a “failing” grade. 5 through 5.99 is a “passing” grade. 6 through 6.99 is a “good” grade. 7 through 8.99 is a “notable” grade. 9 through 10 is an “excellent” grade. Once you’re in university, you can also get an “honor roll” grade. Only one or two students can get that grade on a specific course. As far as I know, “honor roll” does not exist as a grade in Spanish primary schools, middle schools or high schools.

Encima se pica (“She goes and gets ticked off”): “Picar” literally translates to “to itch” or “to sting” (such as a bee or a wasp sting). If something “te pica” in the slang sense, it means something has offended you, and the speaker thinks it shouldn’t have. There’s a saying, “si te pica, te rascas,” which translates to, “if it itches, then scratch yourself.” It means that if the tea has been too hot, you don’t get to lash out, you need to deal with it. Cris is indignant that she’s trying to help Viri out by telling her the truth straight up, and Viri is offended, instead of grateful.

Una chica de cuarto (“A fourth grader”): Fourth grader as in being in her fourth year of Mandatory Secondary Education! A grade below the girl squad.

CLIP 6: Underage drinking  

I don’t know where that tunnel is, and I desperately want to know. On that note, I was so fucking chuffed when the clip came out. I really didn’t think they’d even attempt a street drinking scene. They obviously had to have it a secluded place in order to keep the shooting a secret, but it works.

Okay, so my personal take on the call to prayer scene is this. The clip dropped at 20:07 on the 6th of October, and Isha (the fifth prayer) happened at 19:08 at the very latest. (There are several methods of calculation.) So Amira probably did pray before meeting up with the girls. However, once she took in their initial reactions, Amira might’ve wanted to see exactly how badly the girls would take it, so she pushed a bit harder. Committing to praying five times a day might also be new for Amira, and so she might’ve wanted to test those waters. Ngl, asking her to do it somewhere where nobody sees Amira is with them is pretty fucking bad.

A buenos días (“Good morning”): Jorge is doing one of his voices here. I guess he sounds a little like a rural old man. And yes, he says “good morning” even though it’s visibly dark outside the tunnel, lol.

There’s a conversation happening below the camera line and a bit aways from the mics. It’s hard to catch all of it, But Lucas drops the bag with the ice cubes and tells people to help themselves. Dilan grabs ice cubes with his bare hands, and Hugo calls him out for being gross. Dilan asks Hugo why he minds. Tbf to Dilan, a botellón is usually a gross affair with drinks being spilled, vomit, and sometimes piss, so touching the ice with your hands is small potatoes in comparison, lol.

Verdad o atrevimiento (“Truth or Dare”): For the record, the version I played was called Beso, Verdad o Atrevimiento (Kiss, Truth or Dare). I guess there’s a larger English language influence that’s made it more authentic to drop the Kiss option from the name, if not from the dares themselves.

Va lanzada (“going for it”): Lucas says Cris is “lanzada,” which literally translates to being launched, or going as fast as something being launched. Such as a rocket, for instance.

Pa mala yo (“I’m the badass”): Cris is quoting the Aitana and Ana Guerra song Lo Malo, which comes up again later in the season. The gist of the quote is that Cris has no need for bad boys, when she can be a bad girl herself.

Le dio un amarillo (“she had a whitey”): In case you’ve never heard of “a whitey” before, you can find a detailed explanation on Urban Dictionary, which corresponds 1:1 with the Spanish expression.  I had to do a lot of research to find the best translation, so pls appreciate!

Fue muy borde contigo (“He was an ass to you”): “Borde” is yet another classic Spanish slang words. To be “borde” is to be rude for no reason. While it’s slang. It’s not a swear word, and it’s not rude to use. I went with “ass” as I figured it comes across as softer than “asshole.”

CLIP 7: Safety considerations are ignored

Both this clip and the clip before (which dropped at 20:07) generated a discussion in Spanish fandom spaces, specifically about when Spanish teens go out and what their curfews are. Lots of people felt Eva and her friends are going out too early and going back home early, as well. Part of the discussion has to do with something the remakes have shied away from: dropping clips at ungodly hours. As some might remember, during Isak’s season, clips would drop at 3 am because Isak was insomniac. So far, the remakes have held back on dropping clips during hours the target audience may not be awake to react to them, generate discussion on social media, etc.

Spanish people have a (not unearned) reputation of starting the party after dinner time (so 22:00-23:00) until dawn. That said, every teen has their own set of parents with their own set of rules. Personally, I didn’t have a curfew, but we were generally partied out by 4 am.

That said, if I’d been as wasted as Eva is in this clip, I’d have headed home at midnight, sure. Mostly ‘cause I’d have wanted to nap it out.

It makes me smile that Eva and Jorge are jay-walking. There’s no penalty for doing so in Spain, by the way. And especially in small towns or villages, where traffic is light and sidewalks not wide enough for more than one person, it is far more common for people to walk down the middle of the road, rather than using the sidewalks.

I don’t understand how Eva’s house works, by the way. That door makes it look like Eva lives in a detached house with a front yard, a fence and a gate. But we know from other clips that you can show up at Eva’s front door without needing to be let in through a gate. Also, there’s no window by the gate. You can definitely see a window by the door in the final clip.

My friends were shocked and appalled that Jorge would leave without ensuring Eva got inside her house safely, since she was so drunk and it’s past midnight. Grudges have been held.

The gagging noises at the 18:54 mark are poetic cinema.

[shadowatching]

Ohh! For the breaking post, I'm a short girl who likes to go out on dates. I enjoy cuddling and spending time with the person I love. I enjoy taking naps a bit too much and am somewhat of a lazy person. For a character, I'll choose Reaper! Interesting post by the way!! :3

                     HOW WOULD THEY BREAK YOU? ( CLOSED )  –   4 / 21

I had to re-work this several times, because Reaper likes to go from zero to coerced murder in three headcanons. Sorry it took so long.

Rating: Sa/fe for w/ork

Warnings: Standard fare, and a lot of effort to keep it that way. Reaper is way too extra. Not a little extra- w a y too extra. Anyways, we’ve got kidnapping, brainwashing, coercion, mentions torture, mentions of murder, starvation, denial of needs, death threats, and torture tactics. I think that’s the gist of it.

                                    —————————————

REAPER:

Why he’d match well with you:

- Naps are good, because dealing with Reaper’s particular brand of fucked-up is going to leave you exhausted.

- Lots of dates! If by “dates”, you mean “jumping around safe houses”, or “leaving town in the dead of night”.

- Or “watching Reaper torture a man”.

- There are endless possibilities!

- The cuddling thing ( it’ll take some time for you to get that desperate, though ) is going to take a lot of getting used to for him. It’s…..really weird for him. Maybe kind of nice. Who’s supposed to be conditioning who, again?

                                   —————————————

How he’d break you:

- Gags you. Not because you talk too much, but because it muffles the crying. He also enjoys the sick satisfaction of seeing your chin damp with saliva, and the corners of your mouth turn red and sore when he pulls the gag a little too tight.

- Keeps you handcuffed to something, usually at an angle that puts uncomfortable strain on your joints.

- You start out hanging from your wrists, the very tips of your sneakers scraping the floor for balance. Getting to sit with your arms twisted behind your back is an upgrade.

- When your wrists are bruised a deep, satisfying purple and your fingers seem to be permanently swollen from poor circulation, he uncuffs you.

- You’re allowed to roam freely. Anything off-limits will be on lockdown, anyways. He tells you this, and leaves you to your own decides. Not five minutes later, the front door’s biometric lock is screeching. Several rooms away, he laughs, and it sounds startlingly human.

- Reaper loves to taunt you with death. He’ll stroke your jaw with the tip of a shotgun, digging it into the space beneath the bone and watching you squirm from the ache. Threatens you on the daily, and sometimes makes as if he’s about to fulfill those threats when you need a good scare.

- Interrupting his sleep because you’re trying to escape again is one of those times. It’s like you just don’t fucking learn.

- Sometimes forgets that humans need to eat food to stay alive. Stumbling into a wall, or god help you, the wall that is him, is a good reminder.

- Starving you is only half-intentional, but it does help keep you passive and the least mount of obnoxious possible. Still, he loves when you’ve got the energy to put up a fight, and provokes you in completely unreasonable ways, like threatening to murder people, or actually murdering people.

- He’s not used to brainwashing people into liking him or depending on him for anything but death, so there’s a bit of a learning curve involved for both of you.

- Once he gets a handle on rewarding you, it starts to bring back memories of training Blackwatch recruits. Normally, anything that reminded him of a time Before Reaper would get blown to bits, the barrels of his rifles smoking as he emptied his clips into the offending thing.

-Instead, he considers the memories with a quiet fondness. Training recruits had left in a position that was a strange hybrid of parent, drill sergeant, and babysitter. Recruits also liked to bicker amongst themselves and run off to get killed, so they required around-the-clock management.

- You also seem to require that kind of supervision. The comparison softens him. Just a little. He still isn’t sure how to reward you for not being annoying all the time, because in Blackwatch rewards were usually bigger guns or running fewer laps- but still, it’s probably the only reason he doesn’t end you when you’re broken enough to come to him for comfort, of all things.

- Reaper likes to be the monster that crawls into bed with you at night, savoring the thrill of making every muscle in your body go rigid when you feel his breath on your neck. It really throws him for a loop when you decide to turn around and press your face into him, shuddering softly with tears. You don’t even try to articulate why, just burrow face-first into his coat.

- “I’m not your fucking teddy bear.”

- But he doesn’t push you away. You’re each other’s only constant, after all. In many of the same ways, he’s as broken as you are.

- Takes his mask off, and expects your tearful face to gasp and recoil. Snarls when you press a soft kiss to his jaw instead, and thank him. He uses the inhuman contortions and rows sharp, horrifying teeth to scare you. It works. You nearly wet yourself.

- But just as you have with everything else about him, you get used to it. He supposes that humans can adjust to anything, really, given enough time. He did, after all.

- Lets you curl into him at night, and although he hates the regularity with which it starts happening, he doesn’t discourage you, and he doesn’t admit that it’s changing him. No ver nada malo.

- There’s no real long-term plan for you. All he knows is that he’s keeping you, and he’ll be damned if that ever changes.

- More damned than he already is.

                                  —————————————

Notes: A few of these elements, mainly the biometric lock, were shamelessly based on this fanfiction by SLiverofJade on AO3. You should absolutely read it.

Translations:

No ver nada malo - “See no evil”, or so I hope. Google and all that.

[tohubohu]

(I'm fly)

Man made the web, you don't need a name (Yeah)

Man made of faults, I ain't too ashamed

Every thought I had, put it in a box (Box)

Everybody see it just before the cops

Trolling, trolling, trolling these niggas

Rick Rolling these niggas, they mad cause they don't know any better

"Hold up, it's the kid—quick, tell him he can't sit with us!"

Fuck it, got money, bought friends like I'm TBS

VVS, I can see it all with the clarity

Real deep, hope they dig a nigga 'fore they bury me

Even though we were told to go where they wouldn't go

Hella slow, that's that dial up, watch it pile up, fly

Andrew Auernheimer

Pulling on her weave, it's that Andrew Auernheimer

Andrew Auernheimer

Pulling on her weave, it's that Andrew Auernheimer

Andrew Auernheimer

Pulling on her weave, it's that Andrew Auernheimer

Andrew Auernheimer

Pulling on her weave, it's that Andrew Auernheimer

We are the dreams of our parents lost in the future

Who hide the deepest desires and wear a mask like a lucha—

Door open, we were smoking in the hotel

The vapors went through the hallway, the manager pissed as hell

I mean, where's the line between Donny-G and Gambino?

He hang with girls like he Lena, but needed some time to re-up

Tequila in the cantina, 30 dollars I swallowed

The Sauza so malo (I nuzzled my Nyla)

Then she said, "You need to grow up

You been doing this for too long

That Camp was a million years ago, sing me a different song."

Whether you're trolling or controlling, just a reminder

You think you get it, you don't, it's that Andrew Auernheimer

I'm gone—Now I'm back

Give a fuck or give 'em hell, just not a chance to react

Tyler Durden, this burden hurting, they said there was curtains

Certain demise, look in his eyes, the pain inadvertent

I could've stayed where I was and had a life you'd be proud of

But I'd rather chase things never thought of

It was all love, saying, "Go hard"

Making dope, it's a trap; Ackbar backfired

Panic dreams, so it seems we're meant to die

I had to figure it out; "It's the best," no, that's a lie

Had to get some stuff off my chest, I vaporized

High on my own, it took time to realize

Because the internet, mistakes are forever

But if we fuck up on this journey, at least we're together

Man, I wish I could go back and tell that kid it's make-believe

Make him believe in himself, people who needed my help

Feelings I felt, killing myself, no one's ever been this lost

I just get the information, retweet it or say it sucks

I just got the motivation, your talent's just bunch of luck

Hard work and dedication, but lately it's run amok

Waking up in these places I don't remember

Texts from people I never met, doors left open

(Who is this? Don't do it, where are you?

Who is this? Who is this) I don't know who I am anymore

Still on the beat though

Still in the game, but he move with a cheat code

Slowest connection ever, my life inside a computer

Them bands that'll make her dance, my wallet's Lollapalooza

The violence, first-person shooter

First person to move, first person to speak

My mils aren't meek, they scream in the streets

Losing my frame of reference, these pieces of shit for breakfast

Funny, the day you born, that's really your death sentence

I met this girl at a dinner, we conversatin'

She beautiful in the face, but her voice is truly amazing

Plus she write her own shit, becoming so close knit

Smoke up and talk in the evening, she helping me focus

No Anna Nicole Smith, she getting hers

Niggas take her props, like a musical, live and learn

She say she feel alone all the time, I'm similar

I meet her in my dreams, on the moon, I visit her

Every night I text her: "I wanna solve the world, I think I need your help"

She text me, "How you gon' trust somebody when you don't trust yourself?"

I mean she right though, .45 like a lightbulb

And I could've died like my iPhone but I kept going like a psycho

And I took chance like a dice roll, dropping jewels like it's puberty

Wrote a note on the glass: "You see what these labels do to me?"

Text said, "I'm wet"; I said, "Hold up, wait a minute"

H2O plus my D, that's my hood, I'm living in it

Never forget this feeling, never gon' reach a million

Eventually all my followers realize they don't need a leader

Stay on your own shit, fuck what these clones think

Just remember that you the shit, but act like it don't stink

We were childish, but had to grow up

When you spitting real shit, eventually you throw up

Realities like allergies, I'm afraid to go nuts

"Life: The Biggest Troll", but the joke is on us

Yeah, the joke's you showed up

You're here now

You have to help me

You have to help me

I need you—you have to help me

You have to help me

You have to help me

Please help me

Please help me

Please, please help me

Please—

Childish Gambino - Life: The Biggest Troll (Andrew Auernheimer)

I could have stayed where I was and have a life you’d be proud of, But I’d rather chase things never thought of.

[maryjanecumsinpeace]

We Trippin out here...

Took me 6 months to finally return to blog writing, and in all honesty I wasn't intending on coming back to write for the sake of ventilation or getting my anger out in any way or form. It was all in the hopes that my experience would someday help you, wether it was helping you move on to better things, leaving your trash ex or learning to love yourself to the fullest without the validation of any male or anyone in general. I have never loved something more than just writing to help others or fulfil there boredom. If you knew me, and who I was, you’d know that I'm straight cut edge, straight to the point, I only speak from my opinion and perspectives on things I see or come across in my short lived life. Your probably wondering “wow this bitch really annoying” or “damn this bitch fly asf” which ever side your coming from, I still fuck with both, cause here you a reading the intro of this blog, and I get views for this shit, so malo aupito. 

Fresh out of a fking “relationship” HAHAHAHAHAMLMAO and now your girls tripping. First of all I want to know why we fall into the tendency of falling in love with something or someone we know isn't good for us, and even if it did pain us to be with them him/her we knew what we were getting ourselves into anyways, was it the need to take care of something we saw as a challenge we could potentially see overcoming. I was always told that if you loved something let it go, and if it comes back to you someway, somehow, then it was meant to be after all. 

But BITCHHHH let me tell you something, let me tell you the real tea. I JUST LOVE TOO FKN HARD *tear drop* people could search far and wide and get fkd and heart broken a million times, but loving someone or something too hard is worse in my own opinion, to think you’ve found it, then fail, is the most ugliest feeling I’ve ever felt. what bothers me is that I love so fkn hard, to a point where I don’t see my own capacity of love and how much the other lacks. I always hated the idea of saying “I love you” like honestly please tell me someone who says this and genuinely means it, please show me a “Man” that says this and means it with every bit of their heart, the hardest part about this was the idea of saying it and it becoming just a common word or phrase said to each other day to day, but meaning completely nothing, as if it wasn't an emotion that was felt between the connection of two people. and hey I thought he was the one, I really did. 

I love so fkn hard that even though I was torn inside, seeing them being happy was all that mattered at the time, and my hurt and emotions were put aside as if it didn't mattered, like WTF, where was my self respect. It pains me even up till now to know I let myself go like that, looking crazy and stupid loving someone like that. and what do you know Here I was tossing and turning hoping one night I'd bring up the topic of how I felt and how he would feel, but how could you when they’re completely the opposite to you.

I felt his love, he didn't need to say it, he didn't need to show it cause I could feel it, being with someone who completely was different to me was tough, but it was rare, it was a feeing I had never come across, a feeling I wanted to be eternal but couldn't have, we could read each other without having to say anything, could laugh and have deep conversations without forcing it, and when we said we loved each other while we gazed into one another it felt like anything was possible, that we could live on another plant and still breath, because having each other was all that mattered at the time. And it was till I was in too deep that I realised we lost consistency, the consistency of obtaining the idea of giving each other attention, it was less talk and more “hey” and “k” became something from 6-7 hour calls to missed calls and nothing at all. I knew mentally that I couldn't break it off, that it wasn't in me to break up with them because of how I knew that I wouldn't talk or see them ever again after all this would all come to an end, I have this thing where I tend to erase that person as soon as I fall out with them, completely. The ability to feel is dangerous and I don’t think people realise that, so we end up caving in and letting ourselves build comfort in the walls of our own heart. 

Realising the capacity of my love is something I think no one could ever uphold or fulfil, and so when I say I care about you, or “I love you” I mean it. 

[writer-jamie]

Just One Look (Jill x Carlos) Chapter 2: Lies

story summary: jill meets carlos’ family after two months of dating. carlos promises it won’t be dramatic but that is very different to how the situation turned out.

chapter summary: umbrella’s lies about jill valentine and the rest of her team get spread to the ears of the oliveira’s and jill hears first hand how carlos’s sister really feels. 

word count: 2,168

a/n: i'm back! i couldn't stay away from this story for long so i'm back writing again. i’m exhausted at the moment because my sleep schedule is all over the place. it’s not as long as the last chapter but then again the chapters will fluctuate between lengths based on the story in each chapter! also i have started to get more involved in the fnaf story and my blood pressure is pretty high right now 😅 also due to someone asking I will be including the Spanish to English translations at the end so you can read along! ❤️

The sound shone bright through the blinds. Beads of sweat fell down Jill's forehead as she woke from her slumber. Her warmth wasn't helped by the large figure hold her close too his bare chest. Carlos could warm anyone up, he was like a hot water bottle. But Jill wasn't complaining, in winter it was winter back on the US but here, it was warm always. Jill wasn't planing on spending her Christmas with anyone other than Barry and his family. Christmas wasn't really a fun time for her, so Barry had told her she could spend the holiday with him and his family. Jill originally agreed to this plan until her and Carlos started to get serious and he invited her to his family home for Christmas. Barry didn't mind the change in plans, he was happy that Jill was with someone and happy. Anyway Jill promised to spend a few weeks with him and his family because she missed spending time with the man. 

Carlos moved around and opened his eyes, looking down at Jill who was awake but didn't want to move just yet. “Jill. You are awake, might as well get up.” Carlos laughed and nudged her shoulders as she clung his chest, shaking her head. “It’s too warm to move.” She groaned and sat up, pushing her hair out of her face and tucking her hair behind her ear. Carlos held onto the waist as she moved and pushed her cheek into her back. “How am I supposed to get up with you attached to me?” She asked and turned to face him, putting her hands against his face and kissing his forehead. “Let’s shower.” He mumbled and sat up, dragging himself into the bathroom. Jill watched him away from her and she smiled, even when sweaty and groggy, he looked hot. Jill stood up and rubbed her forearm, yawning as she followed the man into the bathroom. She watched as Carlos turned the shower on, letting the water run for a couple seconds before it started to run warm. He got Jill to lock the door before he leaned down and kissed her lips, running her fingers down her side. When he got to the bottom of her shirt, he lifted it quickly, exposing her breasts without any warning. Jill shivered and tilted her head slightly, looking into his dark eyes. He pulled his shorts down, leaving himself completely exposed and Jill soon joined him and pulled her underwear down too, exposing her bottom half. Carlos smiled like a child in the candy store and attacked her neck, lacing her with kisses and bites. Jill pushed his shoulders away gently and looked at him. “Don’t waste the water. Let’s jump in.” Jill walked into the shower and laid her head back when the hot water hit her body. She ran her fingers through her hair and grabbed the shampoo, quickly washing her brunette hair. After Raccoon City, Jill never took showers for granted. And she never took showers with Carlos for granted. He would always treat her so well and make sure that she was having a good time. When they had baths, he would praise her and rub her shoulders, ensuring that she was relaxing.

Carlos walked up behind her and put his hands on her waist, placing kisses on his shoulders and neck while the water runs into their faces. Jill puts her arms back into his hair and grabbed the shampoo, allowing the man to wash his curly hair while Jill washed her body. Once Carlos finished washing his hair, he turned his attention to the woman and turned her around, pushing her gently against the wall. “When did we last have sex, love?” He whispered in her ear. The woman chuckled and put her hands on his shoulders. “Two days ago. Unless you count last night?” She rolled her eyes and looked at him. Carlos was a sex machine. He would have sex all day if he could, but it was different for a woman. Jill can’t just get hard and fuck people, she had to recover and get over the way that Carlos would stretch her out. Carlos tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek, rubbing circles on her hips. He was about to start on her when a knock on the bathroom door made him jump. “Carlos! Breakfast is ready! Mama wants everyone downstairs in ten minutes!” Daniela called and walked out of their room, leaving Carlos shocked. “We get no privacy!” He laughed and put his neck in the crook of Jill’s neck before leaning over to turn the water off. “I think we need to start locking both doors if we want to have sex, Mr Oliveira.” Jill chuckled and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her body and walking back into the room, grabbing a change of clothes and some underwear. “Hey unless you wanna be fucked right here, right now, don't play the Mr card.” He warned and followed after her, picking out an outfit and changing. “Mhm, we will see.” She joked and continued changing. 

Jill laid on a towel in the garden with Carlos as the children were playing around them. She had her head on his chest and was playing with his fingers as one of his sisters started to approach the towel. “Hi! I’m Vivian. We didn't meet last night because of the baby but it’s nice to meet you.” She picked up the newborns arm and waved down at Jill. “I’m sorry to interrupt but would you guys mind watching Milo while I go to the shops with Mama?” Jill stood up and nodded, without having to think twice she took the baby out of her hands and held him. “Of course. We don't mind.” Jill smiled down at the baby and rocked him in her arms. She cooed at the baby and looked at Carlos, who shook his head and nodded at his sister. “What?” Jill asked as Vivian walked away and back into the house. “’I don't like babies. I hate that baby on that plane’.” He mocked the woman and she raised her eyebrows at him. “Oi. Don’t you start. He’s adorable.” She sat down and laid the baby down on the towel. One of the little girl’s ran outside with a small sunhat and some toys. “Ah thank you Maria!” Carlos thanked his niece and put the small hat on the baby and gave him a giraffe toy to play with. “Thank you.” Jill smiled at the girl and she sat with them. “My daddy says that you were in the army, and that you killed people. Is that true? Do you kill people?” The young girl questioned Jill, unknowing that he questions were hitting her in a hard place. “I was in the army yes, but I didn't kill people, sweetie.” Maria looked at her with wide eyes. “Why did you leave?” The innocent girl asked. “Some people hurt my friends, and I couldn't keep working with the people that hurt them.” Maria nodded and looked at Carlos who was smiling at Jill. “Tío Carlos?” The girl looked at the larger man and nodded. “Mama said she wanted to talk to you.” Carlos nodded. He placed a kiss on Jill’s cheek and walked into the house, leaving Jill alone at the mercy of the children. Anyone questions like that and she wasn't sure how much longer she could take it. 

After a few minutes, Milo started to cry so Jill picked him up and walked him around the garden. She checked the time on her watch and released that he must be hungry. She walked towards the kitchen door and heard yelling. She shushed the baby and listened into the argument. “Really Carlos! She was a part of that team! They kill people!” The woman yelled. “I killed people! I was in the UBCS! We killed people there too Camila! ¿Cuál es tu maldito problema? Ella es una buena persona.” The woman chuckled sarcastically before continuing the argument. “¿Hablas en serio ahora? ¡Carlos, te uniste a ese ejército para salvar gente! Ella estaba en esa mansión. La cantidad de personas que murieron allí...” Carlos groaned loudly and looked at the woman. “¡Te das cuenta de que Jill casi muere allí también! Ella también perdió gente! Ella no hizo nada malo! ¡La estás culpando por el trabajo de un terrorista! ¡Los mismos terroristas para los que trabajé!” The woman started to walk back and forth in the kitchen. “Carlos she is a killer!”

Jill stood up and walked through the open door, tears running down her cheeks. Carlos looked at her and started to walk towards her before she put her hand up. “You may think i'm a killer but they killed my family. Those people at the Mansion were my family. And i lost them. I loved them and they took them from me. So yes, I killed who I had to to ensure that I wouldn't loose anyone else.” Jill wiped her eyes and looked at the woman and then back to Carlos. “Sé suficiente español para saber de qué estabas hablando.” She turned around and walked out the kitchen and into the living room, Milo still in her arms. Carlos chased after her and started apologising, in English and Spanish. Jill turned around and shook her head. She passed the now sleeping baby to him before she walked off, needing space. 

“Barry..They all hate me. His sister called me a killer. A terrorist. I can’t do this..” Jill cried down the phone. She always called Barry when she needed advice or help. He always knew what to say. Probably because he had two daughters of his own and Jill’s parents weren't the best. She had nothing against her parents but they didn't raise her right. Their household wasn't full of love like the Burton household, she was raised to be a fighter, whether she liked it or not. “I'm sure that's not true honey. His family probably only knows what the news has shown and what the media has portrayed. Carlos hasn't explained stuff to them properly but you are nothing what they say you are. You are so full of love and you are so so caring.” He sighed from the other end of the phone, hearing Jill sniffle. “I love you, honey. The second you get back you are coming over for dinner. With or without that Carlos fella.” Barry smiled hearing her laugh for the first time in months. “I love you too, Burton.” She wiped her eyes and continued her chat with Barry. 

When Carlos finally found her, she was on the phone. He stood far away to give her her privacy. He waited for her to finish her call before walking towards her. “Alright love, the kids are calling me. But please, ring me if you need me.” Barry hung up and left Jill to deal with the situation at hand. “Jill.” She turned around and shook her head, looking at Carlos. “Look I get it. Your family has only seen what has been advertised and the media has said that the survivors of the Mansion were involved in the attack. It sucks that Umbrella has so much control but they do. And your family is worried. Worried that you might have brought a killer home, worried I might hurt their children and they have every right to be worried. Carlos I've killed before, I've killed children who turned. I can't get them out my mind but I did it. And I will go to hell for what I've done but there is no way I can let Umbrella get away with it. So I won't stop until I find those responsible and bring them to justice.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and remembered back to all those she lost. “I will leave, if that means your family feels safe. I will go.” Carlos walked towards her and grabbed her hand, putting it on his cheek. “No. You can’t go. I need you here, I need you all the time. You aren't who Umbrella says you are, you aren’t a killer. All those things in RC, they were already dead. You didn't kill them, all you did was put them out of their misery and stop them living an undead existence.” He used his other hand to wipe her cheeks. He started to plaster kisses on his face and hands to show her that he loved her. “I love you Jill. I love you so much. Te adoro por favor no me dejes.” He begged and moved away from her, kissing her knuckles. Jill breathed deeply and looked at Carlos. “I’m sorry. I love you.” She walked towards him and put her face in his neck. “I love you.” He whispered and hugged her close, kissing her neck and running his fingers down the back of her neck. 

Spanish - English Translation:

Tío -Uncle

¿Cuál es tu maldito problema? Ella es una buena persona. - What is your damn problem? She is a good person.

¿Hablas en serio ahora? ¡Carlos, te uniste a ese ejército para salvar gente! Ella estaba en esa mansión. La cantidad de personas que murieron allí... - Are you serious now Carlos, you joined that army to save people! She was in that mansion. The number of people who died there...

¡Te das cuenta de que Jill casi muere allí también! Ella también perdió gente! Ella no hizo nada malo! ¡La estás culpando por el trabajo de un terrorista! ¡Los mismos terroristas para los que trabajé! - You realize Jill almost died there too! She also lost people! She did nothing wrong! You're blaming her for the work of a terrorist! The same terrorists that I worked for!

Sé suficiente español para saber de qué estabas hablando. - I know enough Spanish to know what you were talking about.

Te adoro por favor no me dejes - I adore you please don't leave me.