#I needed a break from writing something else

[totalswag]

hey i love your work so much and if it’s not to much go ask i was wondering if you could do a fic where fem!reader is part of the cast on obx and she is really close friends with drew where they are flirting and what not and everyone ships them and they are at an interview with the rest of the cast and that gets brought up? sorry if that doesn’t make sense! if you don’t have time it’s completely

behind the scenes ⎯ RAFE CAMERON

authors note thank you so much lovie!! i'm open to take requests and write them. i've thought of this concept before and all i gotta say is thank you for requesting this because I NEED THIS!! super sorry for not posting for a small while, there were stuff i needed to take care of first.

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summary having a close relationship with drew that send hints to fans they like each other based on the way they flirt with each other.

warning(s) flirting, shipping, co-stars secretly like each other?

Being apart of the Outer Banks cast has been such a blessing. You've created relationships with people you consider family now and who you can count on no matter what the circumstances are. Being on set for weeks on end filming scenes and making memories is what you look forward to most.

You grew closer with Drew Starkey because your characters are dating in the show and always next together on set too. Drew has become someone that you consider very important in your life.

You joined the Outer Banks cast during the second season. Drew appeared in a couple appearances near the end of the season, implying that he is interested in someone— love interest. You recall fans going nuts trying to figure out if this will continue. Fast forward two seasons, and your characters are together.

After a long day of filming, the cast decided to gather for dinner at a local beachside restaurant. The atmosphere was vibrant, with laughter and the sound of waves breaking on the shore. You and Drew were seated next to each other, much to the joy of your cast members, who were closely watching your interaction with Drew.

"Drew, look at the camera," you softly sang, your phone in your hand on the table, Drew in the frame of the video— he was speaking to Rudy across the table. He gives you a look that shows he knows you are heard before looking down at your phone and waving.

"Oh! "Hello there," he smiles even more when he sees himself on the screen—you giggle at the end of the video before sharing it to your Instagram story. 

"You posted it on your story?" he inquires, his body language focused solely on you. "I obviously had to; it was cute," you said as you placed your phone on the table next to your wallet. You suddenly felt nervous in front of Drew.

He raises his eyebrows in satisfaction. "Cute, huh?" He smirks and smiles, patting your thigh.

Fans began to ship you and Drew together as your relationship grew. The chemistry between you two is clearly obvious on and off screen, which is why you perform scenarios so well. Fans go berserk every time you post something on social media about Drew.

You two flirt without even realizing it at times. You will compliment each other as if you were a relationship, but this is nothing out of the norm for you two. Even your cast members have boarded the train and made a few comments about when you'll finish up together. 

You can't lie, he's an attractive young man. There's no doubt about that.

Few hours after you posted on your story, fans have been discussing the video you shared in which Drew looks at you as if you are the most beautiful person on the planet and no one else is present.

Today, you and the cast will be doing interviews all day to promote Season four. For the first portion, everyone will sit in the same room as the interviewer, but thereafter everyone will be separated.

"Alright, everyone," said the interviewer, "we've got some fun questions from fans today, and they're dying to know more about the dynamic between some of our favorite cast members."

Everyone said "Oooo," anxious to see what else the interviewer would say.

"Let's start with a fan favorite," the interviewer added, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "There's been a lot of talk about the chemistry between you two." She pointed to Drew and you. "Care to share any insights on that?"

Your stomach dropped.

The question hung in the air, drawing a chorus of “Oohs” and playful nudges from the cast. You felt your cheeks heat up as you exchanged a glance with Drew. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips

"Well," Drew said, leaning in slightly. "Y/N and I have always been close. We simply clicked, you know?"

"Really?" the interviewer asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Because the way you two flirt on and off set is pretty convincing."

You laughed and shook your head. "We simply have fun with it. Drew is a terrific person, and we like joking around. "It keeps things moving on set."

"From our first reading together, I knew she was going to be a great co star of mine and we've formed an amazing bond throughout the years" Drew says with his hands. In gratitude, you give him a pat on the back.

Your cast mates' eyes are constantly drawn to you and Drew since they can tell you have mutual feelings for each other. Granted, you two have scenes together all the time and have developed a strong bond. However, you consider being more than friends with him.

The interview continued on with more questions popping up that were exciting to answer. In the back of your mind you were thinking about the question about Drew and you— do you want more?

Later that evening, you and Drew returned to your apartment and relaxed in your living room. The city lights outside your window gave a soft glow across the room, and the steady hum of the air conditioner broke the silence. You'd both changed into more comfortable clothes, eager to relax after a long day.

"Today was something, huh?" Drew murmured, breaking the silence as he sprawled down on your couch, seemingly at peace.

"Yeah, it was," you said, sitting next to him. "They really went all in on the whole shipping thing."

Drew chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your heart race. "Yes, they did. "Makes you think, doesn't it?"

He sat up, his face instantly serious. "About Us. I mean, everybody sees it. Hell, we see it, don't we?

Your breath became locked in your throat. The playful flirtation, the lingering touches, the way your heart raced whenever he was close—it all hinted at something more than friendship. However, hearing him say it aloud was another. It made it real.

"I suppose we do," you confessed gently.

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[bohemianblasphemy]

Okay well now I need to know what’s written on the “paperwork” Spencer drops off at work. 😳 Tell me bestie, I need to know. I NEEEEEDDD!

Secrets in Ink

Based on a headcanon from this post ✨

(Also thank you cas for your help 🥺🖤)

There were perks of working at the BAU with your partner- being around each other for the working hours, spending breaks talking about your day; a downside however is having to keep your hands to yourself.

And man, was it difficult with Spencer Reid is your partner.

The day was dragging, and it seemed that the pile of loose papers and files to be sorted wasn’t getting any smaller.

A small frustrated groan left your mouth, rubbing your dry tired eyes as you tried to keep yourself awake.

Spencer observed you from his desk, seeing your weary demeanour and he frowned a little bit- trying to think of a way to make you feel better.

And of course, with that IQ of 187 and knowing you like the back of his hand, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper and acquired his pen.

He took his time to write you a note- carefully obscuring what he was composing to any wandering eyes that may be present, wanting to create something that was going to make you shiver and look forward to your… after work activities.

With a small, satisfied smile he signed off of the sweetly sensual letter- folding it neatly in half as he stood up to make his way over to you.

You were so deep in your paperwork, not noticing the tall figure walking toward you- not until he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey sweetie…” he whispered, observing you as you had broken out of your trance. You looked up at him, seeing his small smile and tousled curls, god he looked good- he always did.

“Hey Spencer… more paperwork for me?” You chuckled half heartedly, gesturing to the folder piece in his hand.

“Not work related… just a little something for you.” He smiled, placing the paper on the desk in front of you. Spencer’s hand gently reached your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb.

“Just to make you feel better…”

That gentle gesture… fuck it did things to you.

“Thank you Spencer…” you leaned into his touch, gazing up at him with a small twinkle in your eye.

He gazed back at you, as though you the centre of the universe - the centre of his.

Spencer bent over slightly to whisper in your ear.

“Read it, but make sure no one else sees it. For your eyes only.” His gentle yet firm words were followed up with a sweet kiss on the cheek, seeing the blood rush to them as he pulled away and began to walk back to his desk.

Your curiosity overwhelmed you, unfolding the piece of paper to see what he had been written…

My sweet girl,

I don’t think you realise how hard it is to keep my hands to myself as I see you across the room, wanting to take you into one of the vacant offices and absolutely enrapture you.

The mere thought of bending you over on that empty desk, hearing those sweet sounds that you make as I take you from behind- makes it hard for me to control myself.

It should be a crime that I can’t touch you while we’re on cases; the temptation to let my fingers wander under your skirt and play with you whilst we fly in the jet - the added risk of getting caught whilst doing so making it all the more thrilling.

All I crave everyday is your lips, your touch, the taste of you between your thighs.

Once we are home tonight you are mine; to take care of, to love, to make you cum…

Yours,

Spencer

The fire that burned within you created a deeper red flush to surface on your skin as you finished reading it.

His words stirred desire through you, biting your lip as you thought of them and glanced back at him- cocking your eyebrow suggestively at him.

Spencer smirked as he saw your flustered expression , knowing that his words affected you greatly - but that changed when he noticed Garcia sneaking behind her, her eyes trying to focus on what’s there.

“Whatcha got there, sunshine?” Garcia grins, pulling you from your focus on Spencer. Your eyes widened, rapidly folding the sheet in half and shoving it into your bag on your desk.

“N-nothing- nothing at all Pen.” You replied, clearing your throat to try to seem inconspicuous.

“Mhm sure honey, I know that look, and Spencer’s not exactly making your case any better.” She teased- waving at Spencer across the way in which he returned with a sheepish expression.

After giving you a wink, she turned to walk back to her office- her heels clicking on the floor as you look down at your desk in a flustered manner.

You looked back up at him, not being able to keep a straight face as you started to giggle, which in return made Spencer smile in adoration for you.

Tonight couldn’t come any faster…

[felassan]

David Gaider on Alistair, under a cut for length:

"Ah, Alistair. Depending on who you ask, he's the adorable woobie with the biggest heart or the irritating, over-used man-child. Yes, he is indeed all of those things. Good characters have flaws to go with their virtues. Ugly spots. That is literally their humanity. He was a bit of a bear to write, at the outset. James (Ohlen, the first creative director on DAO) had this idea he needed to be a grizzled Warden veteran - older, distrusting. Everyone hated him instantly. I call this the Carth Onasi Problem, and suggested to James that maybe I try something else. My observation says that the characters who are generally liked the most are the supportive ones. Enthusiastic. Funny? Sometimes, sure, but that's *not* required. I need to digress. See, at the time James had this (regrettable) period where he believed everything could be derived from a formula. He even sold this idea to the founders, Ray and Greg. Google 'BioWare formula'. Anyway, how this relates is because James thought the DAO cast needed a Minsc: a comedy character who would become super popular and, ideally, the icon of DA. "Isn't that Alistair?" you ask. "Arguable," I say, "but no." James had me to up a huge list of 'comedic archetypes' and I wrote some possible dialogue for each one. Then he had the team vote. The winning archetype? The Buffoon - like Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin. James was pleased. I was not. "The problem," I said, "is I don't find the Buffoon funny." 😅"

""But you're a professional." "Sure, I *can* write him... but comedy isn't science. I need to find him funny. If I write him, the only comedy I'll mine is where he makes fun of himself." James took that on board and then passed the character onto someone else. The result? Oghren. I rest my case. So back to the supportive character: that was my thought for a new Alistair. It was a special case, after all - the DAO PC was thrust into a terrible situation. They needed someone who had their back. A bud. A *likeable* bud. I was watching Buffy at the time, and my thoughts drifted towards Xander. Now, I know Joss Whedon is persona non grata these days, but this was 2006, OK? I was watching Buffy and thought, "man, Xander is such a wasted character" and considered how to fix him. Then I realized this might work for Alistair. Plus, I wanted to see if I could replicate the Whedon vocal patter. That was the new Alistair: a more useful and likeable yet equally dorky version of Xander. We had very strict rules in DA about language: no modern speech styles, colloquialisms, any words that came into use in our world after 1900 got severe side eye... but Alistair? Alistair got a blanket pass. Was it great that the lead writer's leading man got to break the rules? I guess not, but it's my opinion that you can break those kinds of rules - selectively, in small doses. Too much and you break the illusion. And it worked. Alistair was an instant hit. Not just with the team, but with the fans."

"Confession time? Yes, I knew Goldanna wasn't meant to be Alistair's mother. But neither was Fiona, originally. I think fans caught wind of some revisionism at work, and OK it's true. I had a more Arthurian idea for his birth but I stopped liking it... yet not soon enough to go back and make edits. Should I have just left it be, left Goldanna as his mother? Maybe. It was one of those writer things I just couldn't let go of and I probably could have used someone to sit me down and go "Gaider, please. Just stop." I still like Fiona, and where I took it. But I probably shouldn't have gone there. Casting Alistair was SUCH a chore. He required a weird mix of devilish charm, but with enough sincerity and adorkableness it didn't come off as smarmy. Every audition went full smarm... until Steve Valentine up and appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of a batch of audition files, there he was. We brought Steve in "just to try out", and he pulled it off. Even the "frog time" line, which (seriously) nobody else could. And when he got to the romantic lines, Steve's voice turned into pure butter without, again, sliding into "oh, he's slightly creepy". Both Caroline and I were sold. And he was so gloriously easy to write. It's a well I'd probably return to... a bit too often, maybe? Maric, then Anders in Awakening, and then Alistair kept popping up in future games and the comics because, yes, he was pretty much the breakout comedy character of DA. Which still makes me happy. 😁 CORRECTION: Goldanna was someone Alistair thought was his *sister*, and her mother his mother. Look, it was almost twenty years ago, OK? 😅 --- I actually had a whole scene written in DAI where Fiona tells him, but the requirements were so specific for them both to be in Skyhold and it seemed like it'd be relevant only to a small small sub-section of fans (and confusing to everyone else) so it was dropped. Rightfully so, I guess."

[source thread]

User: "The Buffy vibes were strong in DAO and I was very happy with that at the time. What I loved about DAO was the mix of dark themes entwined with bits of levity. That's how I like my angst. Dark, broody with a side of ha-has and y'all delivered in DAO for sure." David Gaider: "That's a me thing. I like going dark - really dark - and then pairing it with light, comedic moments. It provides peaks and valleys in the tone, and prevents either from becoming overwhelming. Hey if it worked for Shakespeare (alas, poor Yorrick), it can work for DA, right? 😉" [source]

[wonderl3ss]

Fantasize

Pairing: pro hero!Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

Warnings: (not proofread) SMUT! Praise, degradation, pet names, (baby, slut) unprotected p in v, use of y/n, not exactly cheating but he breaks up w his gf for reader; homewrecker reader.

A/n: I absolutely in no way condone cheating or going after someone in a relationship; everything I write is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only — It does not reflect any of my personal preferences. That being said, this is, once again, inspired by an Ariana Grande song.

Katsuki Bakugo was not a stranger to you, nor were you to him. Infact, you’d been decently close friends since UA. You’d never harboured any sort of romantic feelings for him back then as he was too immature for your liking. Now, however, he’s different, he’s grown.

Not just mentally, but physically too. He’s huge; 6’2 and pure muscle. He’s matured into the number 3 pro-hero. Everyone wants a piece of him, but, unfortunately only one person is lucky enough — his girlfriend.

You’re jealous of her. It should be you getting manhandled and fucked dumb by him, not her.

These feelings didn’t happen until a few weeks ago when he was on some talkshow being interviewed. He looked incredible. He was wearing this tight, black shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You could see every single dip and bump of muscle. It had your pussy throbbing.

Until the interviewer asked him about his love life and he’d confirmed he was taken. There was something about the fact he was unavailable that made you want him twice as much. No, you needed him. And you’d do whatever it took to make him yours. Whether his girlfriend knew or not, you didn’t care.

Currently, you, Mina, Eijirou, Denki, Hanta and of course, Katsuki and his girlfriend, are at some bar in the middle of town getting drinks and catching up.

You’re all a little tipsy and [un]lucky for you, the alcohol has gone straight to your pussy. It also doesn’t help that Katsuki looks insanely good. He’s not wearing anything fancy or inherently sexy, just a regular black t-shirt and some slightly baggy jeans. But, to you (and your pussy) he looks incredible.

He’s at the bar talking to Eijirou, with his girlfriend stood at his side and a beer in his hand. You’re sat at a booth with Mina, she’s chatting about something but you’re not listening. All your attention is on said blond.

Mina has no idea about your infatuation with Katsuki, but she’s bound to know after tonight. The way you’re looking at him isn’t hiding anything. She knows that look. She knows you.

“He’s taken, ya’know,” she says. This catches your attention; you know who she’s talking about.

“I know,” you simply reply. What else is there to say? She doesn’t need to know your plan, atleast, not yet.

“So why’re you looking at him like you’re a predator and he’s the prey? You’re not seriously gonna go after a taken man, are you?” She knows you can and will.

You just look at her, the expression on your face saying ‘he won’t be taken when I get him.’ Mina just shakes her head.

“Where’d this come from, anyway? This sudden want for Katsuki?” She takes a sip from her cocktail, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “But I’m gonna get what I want… I always do.” You look away, closing your eyes as you finish up the rest of your own drink.

Mina just laughs. You both know what you’re doing is wrong but neither of you care. Mina won’t say it but she never really liked Katsukis girlfriend anyway, so she couldn’t care less if you break them up.

You look back over and Katsuki and he’s on his own. You guess his girlfriend’s in the bathroom and Eijirou is talking to Denki or Hanta. You stand and nod your head toward the bar where Katsuki stands as if to say to Mina ‘I’m gonna get another drink (and my man.)’

Mina smiles and stands too, but makes her way toward whenever Eijirou is.

You get to the bar and order yourself another drink.

“Want one?” You ask Katsuki, “my treat,” you smile.

His answer is short and sweet, a simple, “sure.”

So you order him another beer; you know which one is his favourite.

“You know, I could be a lot better than her,” you’re not subtle with what you’re doing. You know what you want and you’re going to get what you want, there’s no point in beating around the bush.

At first, he’s taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting this from you, however, he can’t say he’s disappointed. You’re attractive, and he’s not going to deny that he’s thought about you in a sexual aspect before. He just wasn’t expecting you to have thought the same about him. Despite the fact his girlfriend is all but a few steps away, he decides to flirt back.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?

“Oh, really?” Your drinks arrive and he takes a swig. “I don’t know… I think she’s already good enough,”

You take a swig of your own drink, it burning slightly as it goes down your throat, but it only makes the fire in you hotter.

“Guess I’ll just have to show you sometime. I can offer a lot more than she can, in more ways than one,” you smirk at him, finally making eye contact.

He just lets out an ‘mhm’ while returning the smirk. You can sense a fire in his eyes. He’s actually thinking about it.

You peer over his shoulder and see his girlfriend is making her way back over. You take this as your cue to leave and go find Mina, you give him a wink, making sure his girlfriend doesn’t see — not that you care if she does.

You spend the rest of the night talking to Denki and Hanta, occasionally looking at Katsuki only to find he’s already staring at you from over his drink.

A few weeks later, a tonne more days of flirting and you know you’re so close to getting what you want. Just one more day and it’ll be yours, you can feel it.

A little birdie told you (Denki, ever the gossip) that Katsuki and his girlfriend have been going through what can only be described as a ‘rough patch’. Supposedly, he’s not been paying her as much attention as before. He’s distracted.

Now, all you need is the confirmation that they’ve officially broken up.

And it doesn’t take long.

It’s time for one of your weekly meet-ups, and lucky for you it’s at your place this week. You’ve got Katsuki right where you want him.

Everyone has turned up already, except for him.

You’re sat around your coffee table, laughing and sharing anecdotes about your week when he finally arrives. Alone.

Eijirou, his best friend, is the first to speak up about this. It’s not any secret within your group that somethings going on between Katsuki and his significant other, but nothings actually been said out loud about it, until now.

“Hey, man! Nice’a ya’ to join us, your girl not coming?”

“Nah, we broke up,” BINGO. The one thing you’ve wanted so insanely bad has finally fallen right into your hands. He’s yours.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Eijirou rubs the back on his neck, afraid he’s now made it awkward.

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it.” Katsuki shrugs and makes his way toward where you’re all sat, and he sits down right next to Eijirou, which also just so happens to be opposite you. You stare at eachother; you both know what’s going to happen after everyone leaves.

The night continues on and you and Katsuki have been giving eachother ‘fuck me’ eyes. You’re sure everybody’s noticed, but neither of you care.

Finally, the night comes to a close and everyone is beginning to leave. You’ve waved Denki and Hanta goodbye already and are chatting to Mina as Eijirou announces that he’s heading home. You all give him your goodbyes and now it’s just you, Katsuki and Mina left.

“Go get your man.” Mina leans in to whisper toward you. She turns away and gathers up her stuff, giving you one last wink and a smile before also leaving.

The second Katsuki hears the door shut he walks over to you, you look up at him and he speaks, “gonna show me now?” He’s referring to what you said back at the bar a month ago.

His hands find your hips and yours reach up to wrap around his neck; you’re so close you can feel his breath on your face. You smile, then waste no time in clashing your lips together.

The kiss is heated and rushed and Katsuki ends up backing you into a wall, this eliciting a small noise from the back of your throat akin to that of a moan.

His hands slide lower, down to your ass as he lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his hips and the friction between you becomes unbearable. He’s pressed so close to you that you can feel his boner growing right on your clit.

He breaks away from the kiss only for his mouth to latch onto your neck, sucking a bruise there. You moan and attempt to grind yourself down onto him. You need him inside you, now.

“Kats… bedroom,” you mutter breathlessly. You don’t have to tell him twice before he’s carrying you into your room and throwing you onto the bed, and hovering over you.

“Been thinking about this for so long,” he whispers before kissing you once again. You don’t think you’ve ever had anyone kiss you this good before.

He begins to unbuckle his belt and you sit up on your elbows to watch. The second his jeans fall onto the floor your eyes are on his boner. The thin fabric of his boxers doing nothing to hide it. He’s huge.

Then, he’s prying your legs apart and standing between them. His hands find the bottom of your shirt and usher you to take it off. You do exactly that. His own shirt follows yours right after.

“Need you so bad,” you all but moan as you look up at him, and he swears there’s lust in your eyes.

“Yeah? Need this dick so bad, huh? ‘S all yours, baby,” and with that your own jeans are joining his on the floor, leaving you both in just your underwear.

There’s no hiding the little wet spot that’s pooled in your underwear, and Katsuki notices.

“This wet for me already? I’ve not even touched you yet. Fuck,” he bites his lip and reaches round to undo your bra. His lips attach back to yours as your bra is then slid down your arms and thrown god knows where onto the floor.

His hand slides down to your clit and presses a finger to your clit, rubbing little circles onto it over your underwear, your head is thrown back and a moan leaves your throat.

Your pleasure is short-lived, though, as he removes it to grab ahold of your hips and pull you forward toward where he’s stood at the edge of the bed.

He leaves a trail of kisses down the middle of your breasts as he pulls your underwear down your thighs. The gusset sticks just a little, showcasing just how wet you are for him.

He’s honestly never been so turned on in his life; cannot believe this is what he’s been missing out on.

He steps back just an inch to begin taking off his own boxers, and you’re already missing the heat from his body.

You’re both completely naked now. Your pussy feels like it has its own heartbeat and if he doesn’t get inside you without the best few seconds, you feel you’re going to explode.

“Need you inside, Katsuki,” you plead, looking into his eyes. You’ve been waiting over a month for this, there is no way you’re waiting any longer, even if just a few seconds.

“Want me to fuck you like the slut you are, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s tapping the head of his cock on your clit. He drags it down to your entrance and gathers up your slick before beginning to push the tip in.

Your arms give way and you fall onto your back. He’s only put the tip in but you can already feel the stretch. He’s bigger than any man you’ve had before, and fuck, you cannot believe he’d been giving this to her.

You don’t have to worry about that now, because he’s right here. Right where you wanted him. And he’s going to fuck you dumb just like you’ve wished for.

You shut your eyes as you feel him push himself all the way in, you both simultaneously let out a moan. You, because he’s so big, and him, because you’re so tight.

His head finds the crook of your neck and rests there as he pulls back out, not all the way, before slamming back in.

You can feel — hear — his breaths getting deeper as he begins to thrust into you. It’s a slow pace; he’s allowing you to adjust to his size.

“Already so much better,” he mumbles into your neck, leaving a soft kiss there before lifting his head and looking at your blissed out face, “couldn’t think of anything but you for the past month. Every time I fucked her, I couldn’t help but wish it was you,”

And that’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Another moan leaves your throat while your nails are digging and scratching up and down his back.

“Katsuki, please just shut up and fuck me.” Your legs wrap around his waist, your heels pressing into his back along with your fingernails.

“Don’t worry, baby, gonna fuck this slutty lil’ pussy till you can’t walk.” He takes a finger and starts circling it on your clit, pounding into you at a pace you’re unable to keep up with.

He can feel your pussy clenching around him, can tell you’re close. His eyes leave yours as he glances down to where you’re joined together and there’s a ring around the base of his cock where his pre-cum has mixed with your juices. Fuck, he’s getting close too.

“Shit… gonna cum,” you’re just able to stutter out.

“Doing so good for me, baby. C’mon, cum on my cock,” and the praise is all you need, the switch in you flipping and you’re gushing around his cock.

His mouth meets yours for one last sloppy kiss while he fucks you though your orgasm, overstimulation already settling in.

“Where?” He asks, but you’re unsure of what exactly he’s asking. He truly has fucked you dumb and he’s not even done that much.

He can tell by the look on your face your overstimulated and confused, so he elaborates, “gonna cum… where?” And you finally understand.

“Inside! Fuck… inside, Katsuki!” One last thrust and he’s letting out a breathless groan before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

He stays inside for just a moment while you both catch your breaths. A slight squelch and a moan is heard from you as he finally pulls out. He stands back and admires his handiwork, smiling at your face — your eyes are closed, mouth is hanging open and your hair is clinging to your forehead from the sweat. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous.

Your eyes open and slowly meet his. You smile back at him, a blush rising to your cheeks. How is it that you’re getting flustered now?

He hovers back over you, leans down and presses a small kiss to your lips. “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. Ain’t no way I’m letting you leave after that,” the quiet chuckle he gives after saying this is one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard. You’ve never been happier getting what you want.

You nod. “Yeah… yours,” too tired and fucked-out to form a proper sentence. You feel him begin to lift you from the bed and help you walk to the bathroom, probably to clean you up, but what happens after that is all a blurred memory.

You wanted him to fuck you dumb, and fuck you dumb is what he did.

Another month passes and you’ve both made it official to the others. Katsuki is now officially, yours, and you his. Mina was the first to know, of course, you had messaged her the morning after.

You’re with Katsuki in the back of a limousine. You’re wearing a fancy, low-cut, tight, red dress with a slit down one of the legs, while Katsuki is in a marching red and black suit. He looks incredible — even better than he did in that interview when you first fell for him.

The limousine comes to a stop and the door is then opening. Katsuki exists first, holding a hand out for you to grab onto as you exit right behind him. There are cameras flashing from every angle.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been out in public with Katsuki, there have been other paparazzi pictures of you, but it’s the first time you’ve been in public with the intention of letting everyone know you’re a couple.

As he walks down the carpet with you, there are questions being shouting at you both, left right and centre, but only one specific question catches your attention, “y/n! What do you have to say about the rumours of you being a homewrecker?”

“I could never do anything like that. I mean, I would, but, I’m just too nice, and too hot.” is the only thing you reply before turning your attention back to Katsuki, a smirk on your face.

You’ve got what you want now, who cares how you got it?

[4ngelsstar]

Imagine:

A Yandere!Jinx breaking into your house immediately after finding out you’d stolen something from her during a time when you were being.. intimate, to say the least. She’d been smitten with you, but upon figuring this out? She was completely enraged. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do, but she was going to do SOMETHING!

Maybe she would kill you, but perhaps she was too infatuated?..

She still has to think about it.

After all, she’d killed people for you just because they flirted with you or looked at you in a way she particularly didn’t like. She’d spent so many of her moments with you, practically groveling at your feet. She’d begged for you to stay with her, to love her. And you said you did!

Maybe that was a lie.

And upon arriving in your room, pistol in hand, she finds you sound asleep. But, looks like you left a small hatch beneath the rug open.

She scoffs, thinking this is way too easy. After stashing her gun away, she begins to descend down the ladder, Jinx glances back up at your sleeping form as you stir. She.. honestly doesn’t know how to feel, she doesn’t even wanna look at you right now until she figures what to do next about all of this, given the fact Sevika’s on her BACK about this being an important plan they need to execute. Something he would’ve done as well.

A huff escapes her and finally goes all the way down, being sure to close the hatch quietly before fully getting down. She was now a rather dark and dusty room. She waved her hand in front of her mouth and nose, wanting to cough.

But who’d know if that’d wake you.

So, Jinx restrains it and decides to start searching around for a light source, given she didn’t bring one of her own.

It doesn’t take her long until her hand feels up a string connected to, what she suspects, to be a light source. Quickly, she pulls on it, and light illuminates the room. To her amusement, she grinned in delight.

Though upon inspecting the room?

She’s met by practically an entire SHRINE dedicated to her, and her alone.

Various photographs with the banal hearts surrounding her, scribbling out anyone else if there even was.. you seemed to have just cut that part off. Most of those photos are connected with more papers, reading out dates in red ink with little notes talking about what she was doing, how pretty she looked, and so on. But, there were some that were pinned to the walls around. There were dozens upon dozens of crumpled papers littered around, a bunch of her possessions now prized in this room like they were crafted by a god themself.

Not only that, but there’s a small journal on a nearby desk, along with writing which has been obsessively scribbled upon the walls of the hidden room.

And she began to read them..:

‘I love her so much.’

‘She’s mine.’

‘So pretty.’

‘♡’

…

She stands there, completely dumbfounded upon what she’s found.

Her mouth remains agape.

..So that’s why you took those plans from her: because you thought she wouldn’t notice, thinking that they weren’t going to cause that much of a deal, and henceforth - allow you to continue indulging in your obsession with..

Her.

And that’s when she hears the creaking of the hatch opening once more.

.

.

.

Dividers: @cafekitsune & @strangergraphics-archive

[muchosbesitos]

RUNNIN’ OUT OF TIME!— miguel o’hara x fem reader

after countless missed dates and hundreds of text messages gone unanswered, you’d grown okay with the negligence from miguel towards your marriage. only coming to your breaking point after he missed your daughter’s birthday.

contents: angst (lol), mentions of divorce, smut, oral (f receiving), ‘just the tip’, unprotected p in v (wrap it 🫵🏼), doggy, ass spanking (like once), orgasm denial, use of toy (m receiving), switch reader + miguel

author’s note: so i know i said i wasn’t gonna write for him (and the atsv fandom’s pretty dead) but the fic’s my baby so i wanted to repost it 🥹

word count: 11k

There wasn't a big A-Ha! moment when you came to the realization that you loved Miguel O'Hara. The words just slipped out naturally the moment he'd said them to you, like they belonged to him alone. Because in all actuality, they only did belong to him. There was no one else you could see yourself waking up to next in the morning. No one else you wanted to spend time with for the foreseeable future. Maybe it was the memories between the two of you that helped you come to the conclusion that you loved him.

From the time that he carried you back to your shared apartment

Your legs wobbled with every step you took on the concrete, the heels you had on digging into the back of your ankle and the sides of your toes. You didn't have to take the heels off to know that you were mostly likely bleeding. "Wait, Miguel. Just wait up a bit," you were trying to catch up to his long strides, failing miserably with each new sting of pain that shot up your foot. You made a mental note not to wear heels whenever Miguel suggested a 'brisk walk' as a date idea.

He looked back to see you leaning against a pole, taking off your heels for some kind of temporary relief before you continued the rest of the walk. Not that you looked too enthusiastic about that either. Though he couldn't have his pretty girlfriend standing on a dirty sidewalk, could he? With what seemed to be no effort, he took you in his arms and resumed the walk. "How bad's the pain?" He looked down at you once he was sure he wouldn't bump into anyone in a three block radius.

You opened up your mouth to speak, about to tell him that it was bearable enough to the point you could still walk, but he interrupted you by saying, "Don't lie to me because you think you're inconveniencing me. Just tell me the truth." The truth was that you were debating on staying on that sidewalk and calling an Uber at this time of night. Not that he needed to know that, though. "It's not so bad now that you're carrying me," you reluctantly admitted, looking away from him.

If at any point during the night he struggled with the task, he didn't seem to show it. He hadn't even cracked a sweat. Somehow he'd managed to maneuver the front door open, setting you down on the couch with the utmost care necessary. "I'm gonna go get you the first aid kit. Is there something else you need?" You shook your head, laying back onto the couch cushion while you waited for him to come back.

He came back, raising your feet before taking a seat down next to you. He put your feet down on his lap, getting an ointment from the box. You wondered just how many things he had in there for these types of occasions. Throughout the couple months of dating, you'd seen him pull out an ointment for ant bites, scratches, and now blisters. "Try to stay still for me, will you?" He murmured, starting to rub the ointment over the exposed skin. His touch was the gentlest you'd ever felt, barely feeling the subtle brush of his fingers.

"Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana," he hummed as he finished applying the bandages, making sure that they were well wrapped before standing up. You made no attempt to stand up from your spot on the couch just yet, letting your feet recover from wearing those heels for five hours straight. "You need some help getting into the bedroom?" He questioned, scooping you into his arms with that same ease as before when you nodded.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, my lady."

To the time that he begrudgingly agreed to dance with you in the rain

"Come on, just indulge me a bit," you stood in the middle of the empty road, extending your hand out to him while the rain poured down relentlessly. "I'll indulge you inside where we don't have any chance of catching a cold," he grumbled from his spot on the sidewalk, trying to appear menacing. He really did just look like a sopping wet cat, especially with the way that his brows furrowed slightly. "Mami, let's go. I'll let you dance with me inside, please. Any song you want, too."

You kept your arm extended to him, waiting. You knew that he was bound to fall for your whims any second. He let out a small groan, pushing himself off the sidewalk before walking over to where you were standing. "If you get sick, I won't hesitate to tell you that I told you so," he intertwined his hand with yours, the warmth from his body a nice contrast to the chill air surrounding the two of you. "Do you know how rare it is for Nueva York streets to be this empty?"

Usually, there was at least a mad man that would be running around the streets. Even in these conditions. But the two of you were alone, streetlights illuminating your 'dance floor.' His reluctance seemed to fade away as the two of you swayed on the street, with seemingly no rhythm whatsoever. "If you wanted to sway with me, we could've done that inside," he pointed out, letting out a small snort. "Just because I said I wanted to dance didn't mean that I promised to be good at it."

He guided you through a slow rhythm, his coordination slightly better than what you would've given him credit for. His feet moving to a silent melody in his head. "I was a chambelán at this quince, they had us practice the routine until we ended up crying or collapsing from exhaustion," he spoke up before you had the chance to ask, "But at least it's given me some pretty gnarly dance moves."

"Hey, Miguel?"

"¿Qué paso?"

"Never say 'gnarly' again. You sound older than what you are," you burst out into little giggles at the scoff that left his lips. "I'll let you know that all the scientific studies I've participated on have shown that gnarly's making a comeback."

"Hey, Miguel?" You were debating on if this was the right time to admit what had been threatening to escape your lips for a while now. All you could do was hope that he didn't think that this admission was too soon.

"If you're gonna ask me about the resources that I have for those studies, I don't have them on me now. I'll get them later, though," you could only roll your eyes at his persistence, a laugh bubbling from your chest. Even as the laugh echoed through the empty street, you weren't exactly too concerned with how loud you were being. It wasn't like it compared to the way your heart was beating against your rib cage, your hands starting to clam up in his grasp.

"No, it's not about that. Not that gnarly's making a comeback either way."

"Mark my words. Gnarly. Will. Be. Making. A. Comeback," he accentuated his words carefully, giving you a mock glare before he continued to speak, "But if it's not about that, then what's up?"

The moment of truth. Maybe this was a mistake. You could feel your throat close up, your movements starting to get a little sloppy. Just tell him. His reaction can't be that bad, right? You knew he had no reason to react negatively but every single worst-case scenario started to run through your head relentlessly. "I love you."

"I love you too," while it was the response that you were expecting, it still caught you off-guard. He held your gaze, showing no signs of regret or hesitation as he whispered those words to you. "I don't think that I've loved someone the same way that I love you," and even now, he had to top off your admission. You weren't sure how much time had passed by while the two of you danced away, all that you knew was that the cold tomorrow was probably worth it. If only to say that you got the chance at this experience.

He didn't say anything the next morning when you woke up with a cough, your skin on your nose starting to get raw from how many times you'd gotten up to wipe it. Even though you could tell that he was itching to tell you, the words practically on the top of his tongue if you had to guess. "I got you some chicken soup," he spoke up after you woke up from what seemed to be your 50th nap on the day, the faint aroma from the soup wafting up your stuffy nose.

Definitely worth it.

And even the time that he'd gone up to receive his award with your lipstick all over his face

"I need my good luck kiss, c'mon," he gently pinched your side, a small laugh escaping from your lips as you attempted to push his hand away. "You'll get my lipstick all over you," you pointed out, remembering that the Chanel lipstick you had on was in fact, not transfer-proof. Miguel didn't seem to care too much though, a grin on his face as he leaned in to kiss you. "At least they'll know that my lady loves me."

You'd imprinted the mark of your lips on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, satisfied by the work you'd done when you looked at it. Perhaps you'd gotten a little carried away. Not that he looked bad covered in your red lipstick, by any means. He was no longer Miguel O'Hara, the world-renowned geneticist with more awards under his belt than he could count. He was simply just a love struck idiot with a grin on his face. A love struck idiot for you.

"What time do the awards start again?" You wiped away the lipstick on the side of your mouth and under your lips, grabbing the tube from your purse to fix it. The last thing that the two of you needed was to hear Aaron's snide remarks about how Miguel was incompetent. You went to hand him a clean makeup wipe, but he rejected the advance. "I believe they started about five minutes ago," he responded, pulling his jacket sleeve to look at the watch adorning his wrist.

"Why are you not freaking out about this more?" You questioned him, panic evident on your voice as you pushed everything inside your purse and moved to get out the car. He put his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing it through the material of the silk dress you'd worn for tonight. "Why are you freaking so much about it?" For someone who valued punctuality, he seemed to be oddly calm in this situation. Well, you supposed there was nothing you could do now that you both were late. You took a couple deep breaths, grabbing the stuff you'd missed when you were in a rush.

While you were busy gathering your bearings, he went around the car and opened the door for you. Extending a hand out to you. He grasped your fingers in between his own, helping you with getting out of the car before he even thought of stepping into the building. "They're about to announce your name, O'Hara. Get in there," Delgato hissed as the two of you walked past him, his head craning up to look up at Miguel. "Maybe if you stopped standing in my way, I might be able to."

You could practically see the sheer anger in Delgato's face as he muttered to himself, moving out of the way nonetheless. "Now I know why you end up so stressed," you muttered, making your way down the stairs to take a seat. The room was a bit packed but the two of you managed to find some good seats in the middle. A couple people turned to look at the two of you but their attention was captured once more by the person speaking up on stage. Something about a drug slowing the speed in which some disease grew.

"And now for our next award of the night, please give a hand to Dr. Miguel O'Hara from Alchemax."

The cameras started clicking immediately as soon as he stepped onto the stage, a couple whispers of how unprofessional he was being being shared around in the audience. A couple thank you's were shared, to his lab colleagues and assistants who all simply just nodded upon being acknowledged, before he delved into what the topic of his research had been about. Well, just enough to keep the audience and you entertained. Even though only a couple of the words coming out his mouth actually managed to stick, you couldn't help but listen intently.

To the way that he described his work, with such passion and dedication. The way that he visibly lightened up whenever he got to speak about something that was fascinating to him. Even with all the talk circulating through the audience, you just couldn't help but be so proud of him. His eyes met yours through the sea of people, a smile on his face as he finished with the summary he'd gone over time and time again in front of the bathroom mirror. "Are there any questions?"

He was starting to get agitated, even you could tell from a distance. Well, it's not like you could exactly blame either parties here. The audience wanted to know why he'd shown up with lipstick adorning almost every corner of his face and he wanted to get asked questions about his research. "Any questions that aren't related to my current appearance?" He decided to ask, and it was almost comical how many hands went down. He answered the questions of those who remained, about five. But all he seemed to care about was having your attention in the audience as he spoke.

And while you'd expected him to win tonight, you hadn't expected this. Having him on one knee while you two were supposed to be celebrating his achievement. "So I didn't really prepare a speech before this or anything. But I was just wondering if you'd give me the second win of the night and agree to marry me," As corny as it was, you found yourself nodding to his proposal. "You mean to tell me that worked?" He asked, hesitatingly reaching over to grab your hand to slide the ring on.

"Yes, you idiot. You're acting like I expected anything more from you," you answered, watching as he slid the band on. It was fairly simple, a small stone perched on the middle of it. Your birth stone. "I promise to make you the happiest woman alive," he murmured against your lips, gently tilting your chin so you'd be looking at him. "You already are," it was your turn to be smooth. He let out a small chuckle, his lips gently pressing against yours.

So how did it get to this point?

To the point of having dozens of your calls and messages ignored, and if there was a response, it'd be a simple one-worded response. Enough for you to want to drop the subject all together. Dates between the two of you were a common occurrence, or at least often enough to the point where you didn't have to spend five minutes wondering when the last one had been. Promises left unfulfilled, accumulating only to be left discarded in the dust.

As much as you tried to resist it at first, you started to grow.. okay with it. It felt almost selfish to ask more of him, knowing how much effort he put into making sure that the three of you had a roof over your head. You were able to get a part-time job, giving you more time to spend with Gabriella. A nagging thought kept bugging you though. You married him for the purpose of having him as a husband, not solely a provider. Maybe you weren't as okay with it as you thought.

Your eye twitched when the last balloon was being filled up. How was it that almost every member of his family was capable of showing up and he wasn't? Even some of them came from Mexico for the week. For all the events that he'd missed, you at least would've thought that he would make some attempt to show up for Gabriella's party. You could see her looking around, with the hope of catching a glimpse of her father. It wouldn't hurt to call his work to see what was so important that he couldn't get off, right?

"Alchemax Industries. What can I help you with today?" The receptionist's bored tone came through the other end of the line after spending a couple minutes on hold, your foot irritably tapping against the hardwood floor. All you could do was hope that they wouldn't send you to another line like the previous five times.

"Hi, I'm calling about one of your employees. Miguel O'Hara. I was wondering until what time he was scheduled to work today," you answered quietly, in attempts that no one would overhear. The last thing you needed were any additional comments from his family about how you couldn't keep him around. You listened as the receptionist on the other side started typing out on their computer, silently thanking them.

"¡Te voy agarrar!" You heard yelling behind you, moving to the side before you ended up getting trampled by a bunch of five year olds. "Okay, sorry about taking a while. So about the employee that you're calling, there's a mistake. Miguel hasn't-" The rest of it fell onto deaf ears, your grip on the phone tightening as you struggled to keep up your composure. "Ma'am?" You heard the receptionist ask after a couple moments of silence. The fact that the call had ended hadn't even registered until a while later.

The words kept sounding through your head as the party continued, despite how much you'd tried to drown them out. With water balloon fights in the backyard with some of the kids, karaoke with Gabriella, and the breaking of the piñata. But you couldn't. Your eyes kept darting over to the door, almost expecting to find Miguel walking in at any given moment now. Though you weren't exactly surprised when it remained shut after the first five times that you'd checked. Everyone was having a good time and all you could do was miss him.

Chatter and laughter filled the atmosphere as you made your way through the penthouse, trying to find Gabriella. She'd disappeared right after the cake was cut with the pretense that she needed to use the bathroom about half an hour ago. And while she did spend up to that in the bathroom, it was only really whenever you gave her your cellphone to play around with. And you knew that none of the kids were playing hide and seek. "Gabi!" You called out, searching for her in the guest room.

The last time you'd seen her, she was busy talking with her tías. Nice women, really. Just too involved in finding out whatever chisme they could get out of Gabriella without any regards towards her feelings or the setting they were currently in. You wouldn't be surprised if they brought up the topic of separation to the poor girl. "Hey, have you seen Gabi around?" You didn't even question why Gabriel was exiting one of the rooms with one of your friends, too concerned about Gabi.

Gabriel wiped some spit from the corner of his mouth, shaking his head. "I'll let you know if we find her," he assured you, trying to hide your friend with his body. Like that'd erase the suspicion. Though you guessed it wasn't the right time to go over the whole 'don't hurt them' spiel. You'd do that when you knew your daughter was safe. "Okay, thank you," you told him, going to look for her in the secret spots you knew she liked to hide. In the laundry room. The library. Out in the balcony.

You stepped inside your shared closet with Miguel, not expecting to find her inside. You only really bothered to check as a last resort. But there she was. Her knees pulled up to her chest with her head buried deep in them, sniffling that was almost enough to bring you down to your knees. You walked over to her, sitting down in front of her before gently pulling her hands away from her face.

Only then could you see the extent of her pain. Her cheeks were tear-streaked and her nose was starting to turn pink at the tip from how much she'd been rubbing at it. "What's wrong, mija?" You wiped away the tears that brimmed at the edge of her waterline with your thumb, drying it on your jeans. All you'd been trying to do was make sure she was having a good time at the party and your efforts had all but flopped.

"Why didn't he show up?" With every little crack of her voice, you could feel a piece of your heart shatter. You knew perfectly well who she was referring to her. Just like you'd been waiting for him to arrive, you caught small glimpses of Gabriella searching hopelessly around for her father. "I don't know. I wish I knew what could've been so important but I don't," you whispered, holding her close to your chest. There wasn't any use lying to her, not when you knew she'd look through it.

"Mami, me duele la cabeza," Gabriella spoke up after a couple seconds, looking up at you. You could only guess. From what you could gather, you figured that she must've been crying at least for the previous half hour. "I can't give you any pills.. but I'll read you a story once you lay down for bed," you told her, helping her stand up from her spot on the floor. Gabriella left the closet to go brush her teeth and get ready for bed, leaving you in the deafening silence of the closet.

"Party's over," you announced on your way downstairs, already imagining the flurry of complaints that would come your way. You knew that if it was up to everyone else, they would find a way to keep the party going until two in the morning. After thanking everyone for coming and sending them home with leftovers that would last them through the weekend, you cleaned up the house a bit. Picking up a couple candy wrappers from the floor and sweeping off the multitude of streamers on the floor.

You'd spent the next hour tidying up the house, cleaning up juice stains from your once pristine white floors. Well, at least Gabriella managed to have a good time. Mostly. You'd almost expected her to fall asleep by the time you went back upstairs, but you saw her peering over at you when you opened up the door. "Alright, what story did you want me to read?" You questioned, stepping over to the library she had in the corner of her room. Naming off the first suggestions that appeared in your field of vision. "Can we do The Little Prince?"

Gabriella scooted over on the bed to let you sit down next to her, listening intently as you begin to read the story. Almost like she hadn't been listening to this story for the previous two weeks. At some point, she'd learned some of the passages from memory and began to recite them from the top of her head. You finished the book, half expecting her to still be awake and wanting another book. But no. Her eyes were shut, her arms tightly wrapped around one of her plushies while her breathing slowed down.

"Que sueñes con los angelitos," you whispered, pushing a couple loose strands of her hair back before kissing her forehead. She stirred in her sleep, her grip on the blankets tightening slightly. You moved when she finally managed to still, putting the book back on the shelf where it belonged. Prepping it for tomorrow. You made your way out the room, making sure to leave her night lamp on before shutting the door behind you. At least her headache hadn't bothered her too badly.

You poured yourself a glass of wine from a trip you'd taken with Miguel to Italy, swirling the burgundy liquid around. Much how your own thoughts were currently swirling around without any clear direction. Not your usual drink of choice, you had to admit. But it was a nice distraction. The subtle glow from the moonlight illuminated the otherwise empty room, the quietness almost too much to bear. There was nothing to distract you from the thoughts running rampant inside your head, each one of them leading to what seemed to be the same conclusion.

A divorce.

Even thinking about it felt wrong, though. You and Miguel made a pact upon getting married—stating that no matter how mad the two of you got at one another, that word would never be mentioned. Not even as a joke. But you supposed that was made during a different time. A time where Miguel wouldn't put his family on the back burner simply because of work affairs. A time where you didn't have to come up with excuses for his behavior.

It wasn't just for yourself that you were considering this solution. But also for Gabriella. His absence was starting to affect her in more ways than you could possibly fathom. Not just today for her birthday, but also throughout the last couple months. You could see the different attempts that Gabriella had made to talk to her dad, most of them ending up unsuccessful. Only leaving her more and more confused. Leaving her wondering what she'd done wrong.

"¡Mami!" Gabriella called out from the other room while you were busy finishing up dinner in the kitchen, setting a separate plate for Miguel to put in the microwave. A nudging feeling that you would find the plate the same way you'd left it running through your head. You walked over to Gabi, spotting her in the kitchen table with a coloring book set in front of her. You were almost impressed by how precise she was at such a young age.

She'd managed to color in the photos without going through the lines once. She was always a bit of a perfectionist though, much like her father. It felt like staring at a reflection of a mini Miguel at times. If only he would try to maintain that relationship you knew Gabriella needed in her life.

"Yeah, what's up?" You wiped your hands on a napkin before taking a seat next to her. Looking over at the design on her book, you decided to commit the sight to memory. It wouldn't hurt to search it up later and use it as a form of gift inspiration for her birthday party coming up. "There's this parent career day tomorrow and I was hoping that you could come."

You wouldn't have expected her to ask you for help first. Given that your job mostly consisted of logistics and paperwork most of the day. The last interesting thing that had happened in the office was an affair between one of the CEO's and an intern. "You sure you don't want your dad to go instead?" Even if it wasn't by much, you figured that genetics would be more interesting than how graph analysis works. Gabriella played with her pens, avoiding looking at you.

"What's the point of asking if he's not gonna show up?" She spoke up after a couple moments, a small sigh escaping from your lips. You couldn't lie to her any better than you could lie to yourself, you knew that much. But you at least had to try. If only to stop that frown from forming on her face. "How about I present what your dad does for work? So it's almost like he's there," Except he wouldn't be. You figured it was a good enough compromise for her though. "But why can't he show up? Do we not matter to him anymore?"

The same question that clouded your thoughts while you laid in bed, arms wrapped around one of his pillows so it wouldn't feel so empty. So you wouldn't be reminded that the stupid California King was too big just for you to lay on it. "We do matter, he's just busy with work. It's how we're able to live the way we do," you answered, trying to keep your answer simple without dumbing it down. She was smart enough to understand. Smarter than you sometimes gave her credit for. "Okay. Your option sounds good."

You'd stayed up well past midnight that night, reading through a couple of Miguel's research papers in some attempt to figure out what you needed to describe. So far, all you had was talking about flasks and the basics of chemistry that you'd learned. Adorning a poster board with glitter also proved to be more work than you would've imagined, the clean-up taking longer than you would've expected. At least it didn't look too bad. Well, just enough to impress a classroom full of ten year olds.

Just the fact that Gabriella wasn't even making the effort anymore was enough to reassure the decision that maybe a divorce was necessary. Even if the thought was still painful to think about. At some level, you still loved Miguel just as much as the first day that you'd uttered those words to him. Just as much as the day you showed up on the aisle to officially intertwine your life with his. But you knew that neither you or Gabriella could be content just expecting the minimum from him.

The front door swung open, a loud groan escaping from Miguel's lips as he stepped into the threshold. His work shoes squeaked against the floors you'd just cleaned as he trudged over to the living room. "Hey, where's Gabi?" His lips barely grazed your cheek when he bent down to greet you, his voice riddled with exhaustion. He took a seat on the couch, his back slouched against the cushions. "She's asleep. Given that it's currently midnight."

You heard shuffling from his side, the bright phone screen illuminating his face. From this angle, you could see the dark circles underneath his eyes. It almost made you regret wanting to even bring this topic up. He squinted, tapping at the screen with his pointer finger to turn down the brightness. "Ah shock, you're right. I missed her birthday," Normally you would've been okay with the fact that he'd even bothered to remember the event he'd missed.

"Where were you?" You questioned, reaching over to turn on the lamp. You felt like one of those detectives in the old movies you'd watched with Miguel, the light dim enough to create an ominous shadow over yourself. "What do you mean? I was at work all day," he responded, rubbing a hand through his face. He was committed to making the lie work, you had to give him that. He even had the Alchemax lab coat and badge on. And under normal circumstances, you might've just let that slide. Like all the other previous instances.

You calmly took a sip from your drink, letting the suspense marinate for just a little while longer. "I called Alchemax. It's funny that you say that, given that their system shows that you quit months ago. So, I'll give you one more chance to tell me the truth," you told him, his eyes widening almost comedically. The silence was enough of a tell for you to realize that you had him cornered now. He managed to meet your gaze after a couple seconds, speaking almost begrudgingly, "You called my job?"

You gave him a dirty look, almost surprised that it was what he was choosing to focus on. "Right, right. Not the point," he muttered, rubbing his temples. The silence was almost deafening, the two of you trying to keep things quiet for the sake of keeping some normalcy in front of Gabriella. "She kept asking about you, you know?" You started off, setting the wine glass with a thump before speaking again, "I kept lying to her. Telling her that something at work was more important than you being able to show up to her party."

"I want a divorce." It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and you could almost see the different wheels in his head work. The wedding ring around your finger suddenly felt too heavy, the life that the two of you built together threatening to crash down in a mere matter of seconds just by that single sentence. "The least that you could do now is tell me the truth. Because what I'm imagining right now is that you have some kind of secret family on the down low."

In your defense, what more were you supposed to think? Especially when he's made no effort to tell you anything up to this point? You picked up the wine glass, glancing over at him to see what he'd do now. You'd be lying if you said that you fully expected him to start telling you the truth. But you hoped he did. If only to make you reconsider the idea of getting a divorce. If only to let you sleep better at night.

"Okay. Fine, I'll tell you. Just please.. consider the divorce one more time. Please. And believe me when I say there is no other family," he stood up from his spot, his hands clasped together as he stood in front of you. This was starting to sound dangerously similar to the number of excuses that he'd given you before but you decided on giving him the benefit of the doubt. You stayed silent and he took that as a cue to continue, "I haven't been around because... I'm Spider-Man."

The wine in your mouth poured down your nose, the liquid have gone down the wrong pipe. You coughed, attempting to clear your throat as the words settled in. There was no way that he was being serious. But the way that he was looking at you made it seem like he was. "And I know that it doesn't justify putting the two of you on the back burner but there's a lot of crime in Nueva York and throughout the universes in case you haven't realized." Universes?

Now you were certain he'd either lost it or he was just pulling excuses out of his ass. Probably a combination of both if you had to guess. "You're kidding," you deadpanned, waiting for some kind of indication that this was all just a joke. He flicked his wrist, a string of what seemed to be a web sticking onto the lamp next to you. You reached over, tentatively scooping the substance onto your pointer finger to examine what it was. It was indeed.. a web. You were starting to wonder if you'd drunk too much wine.

Nope. Still half a glass left. You punched the side of your arm, waiting for some kind of indication that you were dreaming. All you received was a sharp shot of pain though. Now all you had left to do was actually acknowledge the situation. Accept the fact that your husband was the self-proclaimed vigilante of Nueva York.

"Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" You managed to ask after the initial shock had died down, clearing your throat. He shifted his feet awkwardly, sitting down next to you once more. "Because I've seen too many instances of this play out. I didn't want any danger to come to you after you found out," he responded, his hands reaching out to hold your own. "But please, trust me. I only have eyes for you. Every single of my absences has been for the better of Nueva York."

It all started to make sense, though. The amount of files scattered on his desk, information on previous villains. A couple comic books from the previous Spider-Man on his bedside table. The awkward disappearances when the two of you were out on the street.

"Please say something," he urged after a couple seconds of your silence, his calloused thumb rubbing small circles on your hand. What could you really say, though? It felt wrong to still be pissed off at him while he went off to save the city, and yet.. you still couldn't find it in yourself to forgive him just yet. "I know that the city of Nueva York needs you. But so does Gabriella. She doesn't deserve to be questioning what she's doing wrong as a child."

He was about to speak up but you quickly interrupted him, "She thinks she's not doing enough. That all those trophies in her room aren't enough for you to be proud of her. I beg of you to find some kind of balance before you end up losing the both of us for good." With that, you downed the rest of your wine before retreating to the kitchen to clean up the glass. You expected him to come back to bed, though you hadn't heard him come in after half an hour of tossing and turning. All you heard was the guest room door being opened.

You were awoken to the sweet scent of buttermilk, all kinds of different alarms going off in your head. The thought of Gabriella burning herself in the kitchen was starting to imprint itself in your brain. It certainly wasn't Miguel. Despite how groggy you were, you quickly rubbed your eyes and made your way over to the kitchen. Niña Bonita welcomed you as soon as you stepped inside, noticing Miguel stirring some batter with Gabriella by his side. At least she wasn't too close to the stove.

"Mi niña bonita, my dulce princesa," he hummed along to the song, gently ruffling Gabriella's hair. You stood at the doorway in silence, a small smile making itself known on your face despite how mad you were at Miguel. Gabriella attempted to push off his hands, but even she couldn't hide how much she was enjoying this time with him. "Mami, you finally got up!" Gabriella called you over once she noticed you.

"When'd you take the time to learn how to make these?" Usually it was you that took care of the cooking. "I'm not completely useless in the kitchen, I'll have you know," Miguel retorted, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. Though you knew better. You could see a couple pancake pieces sticking up to the ceiling. Just how long had he been up to try to perfect this skill for Gabriella? "Take a seat, they'll almost be done. The sous chef's been doing an excellent job helping."

"Papi promised we'd go to the aquarium today, to make up for missing my birthday," Gabriella announced as you were in the middle of pouring syrup onto your pancakes. You had to forcibly stop yourself from reacting, trying to ensure that you wouldn't be having syrup with a side of pancakes. "You sure you can handle it?" You gritted under your teeth when Gabriella went to retrieve her tablet in the living room. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I couldn't. Haven't given you any reason to but have some faith in me."

You raised your brows, waiting for him to realize just how contradictory that statement was. Not that it ever came, though. "Can I stay the night over at my friend's house?" Gabriella piped once she finished her pancakes, all too eager to grab your plate along with Miguel's. You glanced over at Miguel, seeing the resistance on his expression. "Which friend is it?" You questioned, trying to rack your brain if it was something that she mentioned before. "The one from soccer practice, Candice."

After making some calls to Candice's mom to make sure that sleepover was actually something that she was aware of, you gave Gabriella the go-ahead. She practically rushed into her bedroom after the three of you had finished with breakfast, picking out a pair of pajamas and clothes before stuffing them into her backpack. Triple checking it so there would be no reason for room to doubt her preparation. While she was in the shower, you snuck in her stuffed animal. Just as a safety precaution.

The trip to the aquarium was honestly more trouble than it was worth, in your opinion. Parking was nearly impossible, the vein on Miguel's forehead threatening to pop with each turn that he made around the lot. Waiting patiently for whatever spot would open up for half an hour before realizing that no one was leaving. Even Gabriella had started to get fidgety in the back seat, asking Miguel if you all were there yet over and over again. "Just get the valet, I'm sure it won't be that expensive," you suggested, hoping that it wouldn't add on to the frustration Miguel was feeling.

"Wait, hold on," like a beacon of hope, one of the spots opened up just as soon as you said that. Before he had the chance to park the car though, one of the newly arriving guests immediately seized the opportunity and took it before he had the chance. With one slam to the steering wheel, he relented and went over to get in line for the valet parking. "Here, you can watch a documentary on turtles," you pulled it up on your phone before leaving, not that you thought you would have to use it. And just like that, Gabriella immersed herself on what was on the screen.

Seeing the price of valet parking almost made you want to regret ever suggesting at all. Seriously, who charged $50 just for a parking spot? Gabriella let her grip on your phone slip when she was handing it to you, your brows furrowing as you already started to imagine the crack on screen just from the sound it made hitting the concrete. You quickly picked up, pocketing it up before Gabriella started to feel guilty. "Don't worry about it. I was due for a new one anyways," you assured her, holding to her hand while Miguel held her other one.

The three of you were visibly annoyed as soon as you stepped foot into the aquarium, the excitement towards this trip dying down with every single thing that kept going wrong. Not only had it taken half an hour and $50 to even enter, but now, none of the shows were even available? Even the dolphins had gone down with some kind of fish flu. Why it was even so full was beyond you. "Come on, we'll still have a good time," Miguel sounded like he was trying to collectively convince all three of you, offering Gabriella a piggy back ride as compensation.

Gabriella didn't seem to mind it too much, her head raised like she was royalty while perched on Miguel's shoulders. His grip on her legs was tight, assuring she wouldn't fall down. Given that she had a tendency to test herself and lean as forward as she could when one of the fish approached. You'd never seen her this excited about a trip before. You quickly realized the reason for her excitement. Miguel kept giving her subtle facts about each of the different species that you approached, whether from his own brain or the information board put up.

And she held on to every single word that escaped from his mouth, listening to him like he was the most interesting man in the world.

After seeing how full the gift shop was at the end of the tour, you decided to wait outside with a couple other guests. All you could hope was that Miguel would talk to her while the two of them were inside, give her some of that connection that she longed for. She came back bouncing back with a shark plushie— one identical to the one Miguel had gotten you on a prior date. Just the sight make your resolve melt a bit. You glanced over at Miguel, seeing him give you a shrug. "It's what the princess wanted."

Exiting the aquarium was almost as troublesome as entering, a line of cars parked at the exit. Gabriella didn't seem to mind it as much, plotting a story line with her as a mermaid with the shark. It'd been a while since you got the chance to see her be so animated. Throughout the car ride, she couldn't stop talking about how the trip at the aquarium and explaining the exhibits to you in explicit detail. Well, that was until you got to Candice's house. She was quick to leave as soon as she saw her friend waiting outside, her two feet almost too slow to match her energy.

The tension in the air was thick from the moment Gabriella had departed the car but it was much more obvious now that the two of you were stuck in a room together. After making a beeline to go change into a pair of shorts and a shirt—calling it a night, you were surprised to find Miguel still laying on the bed. Idly tapping at his phone with one finger, the faint sound of a Candy Crush! reaching your ears. You figured that he would've left to go monitor the city after spending the day with Gabriella. Maybe he was determined to make it work this time around.

No.

You couldn't start thinking that way just because he bothered to stick around for one evening.

He settled in between your legs, continuing to tap away at the screen. As much as you wanted to protest, you decided not to. From this angle, you could see him struggling with solving level 3976. How much time had he seriously dedicated to this game? Time that he hadn't spent dedicating towards you. Great. Just the thought was enough to piss you off once more. You grabbed your own phone from the bed stand, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes every time one of those stupid family channels showed up. If you had to bet, you'd guess their marriage wasn't that good either.

Miguel looked up at you from his spot in between your legs, with furrowed brows and brown irises practically boring into you. He looked so needy.. so desperate. "Please mamita, I need you. I need to touch you again," he pleaded, his lips leaving a searing sensation as he kissed up your leg. It'd been too long since you'd received any form of intimacy from anything other than your fingers and your vibrator. And while they did get the job done, they didn't exactly offer this kind of foreplay.

He moved the flimsy material of your pajama shorts to the side, kissing the innermost part of your thighs. Your fingers tugged at the strands, trying to pull him to your cunt. With every single teasing breath against the thin material, you could feel yourself clenching around nothing and dripping onto your panties. "Not yet," and the bastard had the nerve to laugh. It was the last sound you heard before you felt a small sting on your thigh, your eyes almost popping out of your skull. When he said he was Spider-Man, you'd been expecting the whole swinging around.

What you hadn't been expecting, however, was a pair of fangs that were almost the same length as your head. Just how far did the extent of these spider powers go? You were thinking of every possibility, unaware that you'd even spaced out. He regained your attention by pulling the waistband of your shorts, the elastic snapping against your skin. "Only thing you have to be focused is on me," he spoke up before you had the chance to say anything, moving to take off your shorts off. You raised your hips, your panties and shorts falling off in one swift motion.

He'd been nothing but desperate earlier, but his touch almost seemed reverent this time around. Kissing up your legs as if you were something to worship, drinking up your gasps as if they were the finest tunes he'd ever listened to. His hands pried your thighs open, leaving you completely exposed to him. Only before he got the chance to lean in was that you got the chance to see just how desperate for this he truly was. His pointer finger ran through your folds, collecting whatever slick had started to accumulate.

"You say you want a divorce but this pretty cunt's telling me a different thing," almost like he was timing it—which he was, he pulled his fingers out of your cunt. A loud squelch echoed through the otherwise silent room, a small groan escaping from your lips. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him hear your moans. "Let me hear you mamita. Let me hear good I'm making you feel," he prodded, his fingers moving in a scissoring motions. You bit on your bottom lip, a muffled moan escaping your lips.

"Eso, no me nieges. Te lo ruego."

Miguel pulled his fingers out of your cunt, his eyes boring into yours as he licked the glistening slick off them. Practically feining to get every single drop. He leaned in to be face-level with your cunt, licking a stripe up your folds before parting them apart with his tongue. "Oh fuck," the moan slipped out of your lips before you had a chance to think better of it, the small chuckle he let out against your cunt vibrating throughout your body. His head moved from side to side, practically engulfing himself in between your legs with his nose pressing against your clit.

Your legs trembled in his grasp, struggling to keep them open when all you wanted to do was close them around his head. You wanted him to stop. You wanted him to keep going. The constant whiplash was enough to make you into a whining mess underneath him, despite your better judgement. "Please," you didn't even make sense to yourself. You weren't exactly sure what it is that you were even begging for. "Shh, it's okay. I'll give you what you need," and yet, he seemed to understand your pleas perfectly.

His mouth closed around your clit, his eyes boring into yours as he sucked on the neglected nub. Your nails dug into his scalp, a groan escaping from his lips. Like a domino effect, that small groan vibrated against your clit which caused you to only tighten your grip on his hair. You bucked your hips to meet his lips, his grip on your legs tightening. "I got you mamita, just let me take my time pleasing you," he murmured, kissing a trail from your inner thigh to your folds once more. His tongue fell flat, licking a stripe up your glistening folds.

The tip of his tongue prodded at your entrance before the wet muscle pushed inside, your juices leaking down to his mouth almost instantaneously. If anything, he didn't seem to mind it. He almost looked like he was in complete bliss. Miguel made no attempt to continue the ploy he'd started with the eye contact earlier, his eyes shut as he got lost in the taste of your essence. "Oh, Mig, Mig, Mig-" Broken fragments of his name escaped from your lips as his pointer finger rubbed small circles on your clit, the dual stimulation enough to have your toes curling.

You reached down to play with your erect nipples, rolling them in between your fingers. The orgasm you were chasing was so close, so attainable. "Gonna cum, gonna cum," every single word from your vocabulary seemed limited. All you could do was repeat yourself and hope that he would get the picture. "That's it, you got it," he coaxed you into an orgasm, your toes curling and your grip on his hair tightening. If anything, he seemed to revel in how you were gripping him.

Every word at the tip of your tongue failed you as you came with a shudder, your release coating his mouth and chin in the process. Miguel eagerly took every drop that you had to give, even going back into your cunt to get anything that he might've missed. You practically had to push him off before he started to eat you out again. While you knew that he could handle it, you weren't too sure that you could. You let your back hit the mattress, basking in the afterglow from your orgasm.

Before Miguel had the chance to finish with unbuttoning his pants, you took the chance to clear your throat. His hands halted their movements, his eyes shooting up to you like a deer caught in headlights. "With the way you've been acting, do you seriously think you've earned the right to fuck me?" You questioned, seeing his expression visibly deflate as he removed his hands from the buttons. "Please. I'll do anything, mi vida. Es tortura tenerte tan cerca y no poder tocarte," it was a rare sight to see.

Miguel prided himself in being above begging. And yet, here he was.

"Go on and lay on the bed for me," your tone offered no room for protests, his steps quick as he went to lay down on the bed. You trailed your hand from his knee to his crotch, cupping his heavy balls in your palm. "Look at me and tell me you have the right to fuck me, if that's the case," you spoke up, looking over at him as your hand switched from one ball to the other. Giving each the same amount of attention. You watched as he opened his mouth, closed it back up again, and repeated the process until he eventually gave up.

"I can't," he huffed out, almost in a whisper. You reached over in your bedside table, pulling out your trusty vibrator. "And why's that?" You asked him, your touch featherlight when you rubbed the vibrator against the outline of his cock. Just enough to give him a taste of what he could have. "Because I don't deserve to fuck you. I know. But I'm still selfish," he admitted after a while, his words barely above a whisper. Good enough of an answer for now.

A shaky groan escaped from his lips when you turned the vibrator on, the lowest intensity almost too painful to bear. Shudders ran across his body as you rubbed the vibrator on the tip of his cock, sliding it down to his frenulum. "Ngh, don't stop," his voice was practically a whimper by this point, his hips bucking to meet your touch. Not that you allowed for that continue for long though. You pushed your thighs down with one hand, his muscles flexing underneath your grasp.

You moved the vibrator to rest against the tip of his cock, precum leaking onto the tip of it. You tentatively brought it up to your lips, swirling your tongue around it as the familiar salty taste overwhelmed your senses. His eyes were locked on yours, his hips bucking up in some miserable attempt to gain some friction. You set the vibrator back on the tip of his cock, a hiss escaping from his lips. "Turn it up."

"What's the magic word?" You shifted to grab the remote, lowering the intensity despite the groans that escaped from his lips. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, if you had to be honest. Well, the closest he could get to that point anyways. "Pl.." he couldn't finish his sentence, a choked groan escaping from his lips. He looked over at you, like he was expecting you to understand. And while you did, you also wanted him to use his words. Hear how pretty he sounded begging.

"P-Ple-nghh."

“Plea-shockk."

"P-Ay mierda."

It was a cruel game you were playing, you were aware. You kept the vibrator at the same speed, raising a brow as you looked at him. "Sounds like you don't really want it," you taunted, deciding to put the vibrator to the highest level possible. Only for a fraction of a second, though. Just as quickly as relief had come for him, it was gone. He let out a groan, trying to will the word to slip out of his mouth. Just one word.

"Please," it seemed like your little show of motivation had finally paid off. You turned the intensity of the vibrator gradually this time around, allowing him to get used to the sensation. "See what you get when you ask nicely," you decided to taunt him even further despite knowing better. You knew your cunt would be paying the consequences for your relentless teasing later in the night. Not like the thought mattered now, though. Not when you had Miguel begging and at the verge of tears just for your touch.

His balls felt heavy to the touch, almost like he was at the point of cumming. You gave both of them equal attention, rolling them in your hand. Miguel's eyes could only clamp shut, his mouth parted. "Please let me cum, so close," he begged so nicely, a couple drops of precum leaking down to your thigh. You could always be generous and let him cum. Then again, the idea of prolonging his orgasm was just too enticing to resist. Each buck of his hips became more erratic, more needy. Before he got to that point of climax, you pulled the vibrator away from his cock.

"I asked nicely," he pointed out, his voice cracking slightly. He scrambled to sit up, almost searching your expression to see if he'd done something wrong. "I'm aware," you simply responded, wiping your vibrator before placing it on the nightstand to clean it throughly later. "I just didn't feel like letting you," you added, waiting to see if he'd offer more resistance. You could see he wanted to say something, but he was holding himself from saying anything. Smart man.

Miguel set a pillow underneath your stomach, your back set in a mean arch as you laid on it. He stepped behind you, his thumb rubbing against your folds before he dipped it inside. Your wetness immediately engulfed his finger, your walls stretching out as he pushed it deeper inside. "What happened to the attitude you had earlier, hm?" He used the same taunting tone that you had, mocking you. A protest died in your throat as the tip of his cock went inside your folds, your head craning back to look at him.

"Just the t-"

"Yes, yes, just the tip. I promise," he cut you off before you had the chance to finish speaking, rolling his eyes. You were already testing his patience by allowing just the tip. He retracted, the tip of his cock an angry shade of red as precum dripped down his shaft. Your walls clenched and unclenched rhythmically, your own body betraying your resolve. He pushed the tip inside once more, keeping it inside your wet cunt. "Please, let me fuck you properly. You're punishing both of us, not just me."

And here you would've figured that his negotiations were reserved just for the state of Nueva York. You shook your head, determined to see this through. "If it's not enough for you, we can just stop here," And how you wished your voice would've come out with more bite. Now you sounded just as needy as he did. Maybe even more. "No, no, it's fine," he was quick to respond, retracting. It was almost painful how slow he was going, almost making you want to give up on this whole argument. Getting stubborn wasn't getting you anywhere.

"Please let me fuck you properly," he pleaded after a couple thrusts, his hands on your hips. Well. At least you didn't have to give in first. "Fine," you tried to sound annoyed, though you weren't convincing him any better than you were yourself. A strangled gasp left your mouth as he bottomed out, your cunt stretched out to the brim. Your walls clenched against his shaft rhythmically, trying to get used to the intrusion. Your hands reached over for the pillow above you, your grip on it tightening as he pulled out.

His skin slapped against your own with each thrust that he made, his grip on your hips tightening. "Don't stop, Mig! So, so good," he'd turned you into a babbling mess within a matter of seconds. "Wasn't planning on it," he responded quickly, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust. You craned your head to look at him, the sight having a new wave of arousal coat his cock. His head was lolled back, his face contorted into one of pure pleasure. You rocked your hips to match his rhythm to the best of his ability, your ass smacking against his hips with every movement.

"Oh shock, slow down," he was mesmerized by the sight of your ass rippling with each move that you made, one of his hands reaching down to cup the flesh. "Not gonna last long if you keep at it," he added, raising his hand before giving your ass a slap. The mixture of pain and pleasure mixed together, your own release starting to approach. "Fill me up, Mig!" You could only whine that out, a groan escaping from his lips at your words. The hand on your ass moved down to your clit, his thumb rubbing on the nub in circles. Fervent circles to match the pace of his sloppy thrusts.

You clamped tightly around his cock, your arousal coming out of you in waves. Your stomach hit the pillow underneath you, your body giving out on you. As soon as you clamped around him, Miguel knew his own orgasm wasn't too far off. With one final thrust, he shot his cum up your cunt. Filling you up like you'd asked. He pulled his flaccid cock out of you a couple moments later, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His fingers pushed back the cum threatening to drip down before he went over to get a wet towel to clean you up.

"It shouldn't take me threatening to divorce you for you to get your act together," you spoke up once you managed to catch your breath, wiping the sweat off your forehead. Not exactly the topic that you would've imagined talking about after sex. But you figured it was important for him to know that just a good lay wouldn't be enough to resolve this issue. He swiped his arm over his forehead, wiping away at nonexistent sweat beads. Something to do while he tried to figure out what to say.

"I know. And I'm sorry that it ever got to this point, I promise that I'll spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you how worthy I am to be next to you," he spoke up after a few moments, turning to face you. His hands itched to be wrapped around you, for some semblance of that intimacy that he'd neglected for so long. But he didn't make any effort to touch you. He knew it'd take a while for you to get to that point. The conflicted expression on your face was enough to tell him that you didn't believe him.

And it's not like you were looking forward to starting any issues between the two of you. But with the amount of empty promises and "I'm sorry's", you figured that you'd earned the right to doubt him. You got up, putting up your pajamas in an attempt to divert the conversation. You didn't want to voice that you were worried about him failing to fulfill his promise. "I know you don't believe me, but I promise I'll do my best to prove it to you," he whispered, pulling the blanket over the two of you before exhaustion overtook your body.

Instead of the usual emptiness that you'd grown used to waking up to, you found Miguel laying by your side with his arms tightly wrapped around your body. Like he didn't want to let you go. "I can feel you staring," he mumbled, half asleep as he begun to stir. He kept one arm wrapped around you, bringing the other hand up to his face to rub his eyes. "Just surprised you're not at work yet," you responded, pushing a couple stray hairs away from his forehead. "Well, I'm trying to prioritize my family a bit more."

His promises didn't feel as empty as the ones he'd spoken about before. He seemed determined to bring them into fruition this time around. Or at least you hoped that he would. For you and Gabriella. "I know it doesn't amount to much with how many times I've said it, but I really am sorry for neglecting you for so long. I got so carried away into maintaining the safety of Nueva York that I forgot to maintain my own marriage."

"I know you can't be everywhere at once. Me and Gabriella are aware you have responsibilities but still.. I don't want to have to feel like I'm being selfish for asking for some time with my husband," you spoke up after a couple seconds, looking over at him. Neither of you made any attempt to leave your bed just yet, too engulfed in the temporary state of bliss. "And you won't have to feel that way anymore, I promise."

Maybe things would work out for the better this time around.

[dissapointu]

jinx x reader where she tries to distract them from studying?

ur writing is so good btw <3

Jinx x Reader scenario where she distracts you with her crazy antics:

____________________________________________

You were sitting at your desk, papers everywhere as you tried to focus on the mountain of homework in front of you. The clock ticked louder than usual, the seconds crawling by like you were stuck in some weird time loop. You could feel your brain slowly turn to mush from reading the same thing over and over.

And then, as if on cue, a loud bang came from your window. You jumped in your seat, heart racing. You turned, ready to yell at whoever was being loud outside, but there she was—Jinx, standing in the open window, holding a rubber chicken and looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“Boo!” she yelled, making you jump again. “What’s up, bookworm? You’re not actually studying, are you? You’re gonna burn your brain out if you keep staring at that thing for too long!” She tossed the chicken up in the air, catching it with one hand while dramatically winking at you.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “Jinx, I have to finish this. I have a test tomorrow!”

She hopped into your room like she owned the place, twirling the chicken around like it was some kind of weapon. “Pssh, tests are dumb. Why study when you could be, I dunno, throwing things off the roof?” She giggled and pointed to your window, eyes shining with mischief. “Bet I can throw this chicken farther than you can throw… a book or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore her. “I’m not throwing a book out the window, Jinx.”

“Pft, boring!” She skipped over to your desk and started knocking papers off with exaggerated gestures. “Okay, okay, new idea! I’ve got a million of ‘em. What if you could trade any piece of knowledge you have for something totally useless, like… a lifetime supply of rubber bands or a pet giraffe?”

You stared at her like she’d lost her mind, but she didn’t even notice. She was already spinning in circles, bouncing off your chair. “Would you pick the giraffe or the rubber bands? You gotta decide!”

“Jinx—”

“And what if the giraffe was secretly a genius?” she continued, completely ignoring you. “It could teach you all kinds of super smart stuff, like how to juggle five balls at once or how to ride a unicycle while solving a Rubik’s Cube!” She laughed hysterically at her own joke. “Imagine that! A genius giraffe, teaching you!”

You leaned back in your chair, trying to focus despite the absolute chaos she was creating. “You’re seriously not gonna let me study, are you?”

She dropped onto your bed, still grinning. “Nope! Nope! Not gonna happen! C’mon, who needs boring old textbooks when you’ve got me around? I’m way more fun, right? I bet you haven’t had a single cool moment all day!” She pulled a rubber band from her pocket, snapped it at your ear, and then quickly hid behind your chair, waiting for your reaction.

You sighed, fighting a smile. “You’re crazy. I need to finish this.”

“Okay, okay!” She sat up straight, crossing her arms with a dramatic huff. “How about this? I’ll really leave you alone. But only if you answer my super-duper important question!”

You gave her an exhausted look. “What question?”

“Would you rather fight one giant chicken or a hundred regular-sized chickens? And you can’t say both, ‘cause that’s cheating!” She pointed a finger at you like it was a life-or-death decision.

You stared at her in disbelief. “Jinx, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Pick!” she demanded, her face lighting up like she was asking about the meaning of life. “Time’s ticking! You gotta choose, or else I’ll make you listen to me sing the Chicken Dance for the next hour.”

You groaned. “Fine! One giant chicken. Happy?”

She squealed, jumping up and down. “YES! You’re a genius! I knew you had it in you!” She took a deep breath and did an over-the-top victory dance, kicking papers off your desk in the process. “You’ve earned a break now! No more studying for you! Come on, we’re gonna have fun!”

You stared at the mess she made and the chaotic whirlwind that was Jinx. Maybe studying could wait just a little longer.

[roboticprince100]

30 Day Robotic Affirming Challenge Before 2025

A simple challenge to test the Law. I would like even the non-believers to try this at least once in their life. Also, people who don't believe in robotic affirming or their primary technique is something else, I would like you to participate in this challenge. All I need from you is 30 minutes daily.

I AM INSANELY WEALTHY.

You have to repeat just one affirmation for 30 minutes every single day till 30 days. Do it in two different time slots of 15 minutes each. One in the morning and one before sleep. Put a timer of 15 minutes and just repeat it in your mind. Don't do it without a timer. I always say you can only improve what you measure. If you have the time to close your eyes while repeating the affirmation, it would be great otherwise no problem. Make sure to do it twice during the day, once in the morning and once before bed. Some rules to follow during the challenge:-

Rule No. 1:- If you miss even one day before completing 30 days, you will add one day to the final date. For example, if your challenge was to be completed on 31st December, now it will be completed on 1st January if you break the consistency. Similarly, if more days are missed, more days will be added.

Rule No. 2:- You can do full 30 minutes at once if you want. This is just more challenging and difficult. I suggest repeating in two slots to make it easy. No less than 30 minutes in one day. No limit on doing more. If you are free and want to keep saturating your subconscious mind, you can do one or two hours also. Remember I want consistency, not pressure. If you are doing in two slots and one slot is missed during the challenge, follow Rule No. 1.

Rule No. 3:- You have to say the affirmation slowly and mindfully. No rushing, no trying to speed up, no hurry. You are trying to reprogram your subconscious mind, not beat Eminem's record. It should be robotic, slow and mindful. You can repeat the affirmation slowly in your mind or speak it out in a normal voice depending on what you prefer. Being slow, mindful and living in the present are golden practices for manifestation.

Only these 3 rules should be strictly followed to successfully complete the challenge. No need to believe in the affirmation, no need to imagine/visualize, no need to create a scene or live in the end, nothing is required. You can do all of this if you want, you can write the affirmation 100 times, you can script with it, everything additional is allowed but not required. The more you impress your subconscious mind, the more direct and natural it is, the faster you make the affirmation your reality. Monotonous, boring and mundane repetition is all I want from you. Because this is the Key.

Test for yourself what happens after 30 days. Write your bank account balance on a page on the first day and write it again on the 30th day. There is a chance you would get insanely wealthy or you would end up with $0 in the bank. But you know what? It doesn't matter. Your subconscious will already be programmed for wealth and that is what I want. Once the subconscious accepts the idea of insane wealth in your mind, you can splurge all you want and still you won't get poor.

The only thing that can ever stop you from completing this challenge successfully is YOU. Good luck!

[inquisimer]

Hi, happy Friday and thank you for the welcome! Arlow de Riva/Lucanis with “I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired.” - Anonymous-Inquisitor

ty for the prompt!! Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort (?) and subtle pining for flavor :3 for @dadrunkwriting - mild da4 spoilers, just Arlow and Lucanis being somft workaholics.

-

“Rook?”

Arlow started, blotting the parchment with the bead of ink that had been waiting too long for her to keep writing. Cursing under her breath, she set the unfinished letter aside and laid down her quill.

“Yes?” she asked, without looking up, or even really registering who had called her name. “What’s happening?”

“Arlow.” The same voice, but quieter, firmer. Finally, her brain caught up to her ears and she sighed, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Lucanis. What do you need? Must be serious, to get you out of the pantry.”

“If it were truly serious, I wouldn’t have waited as long as I did for you to respond to your name.” Lucanis perched on the edge of her desk and folded his arms. His brow knit together, concerned. “You need to rest.”

“Hypocrite.”

“My reasons are a little more tangible than yours.”

“Are they?” Arlow challenged. “Tell that to D’Meta’s crossing. Or—“

She broke off, glancing over to where Varric was sleeping. The steady rise and fall of his chest did nothing to ease the guilty ache in her heart.

“You cannot help anyone if you are exhausted beyond reason,” Lucanis said gently. “And what would Viago say, if he saw you so unaware of your surroundings?”

“Viago would clock me upside the head and knock me out to teach me a lesson.”

“Is that a request?”

“You can certainly try.” Her words were snippy, but they lacked their usual bite. She didn’t remember the last time she’d properly slept. Before the Crows kicked her out of Antiva, probably. With a sigh, she picked up her quill and took a fresh sheet of parchment.

“Arlow—“

“Someone has to answer Strife and Irelin,” she snapped. “Unless you have someone else that’s interested in the job, let me handle it.”

Her quill was halfway into the inkpot when Lucanis laid his hand over hers, trapping it there. She clenched her fist, irritated.

“Take a break,” he said firmly, in the voice of the First Talon’s grandson, the one that was used to deference. It made Arlow want to buck on instinct. But there was a weariness in her bones, an exhaustion in her soul that wanted to agree.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I blink, and the world falls apart, Lucanis. I look away, and every crisis redoubles.”

She closed her eyes and steadied herself with a breath. He was close enough that she smelled coffee and cinnamon, and the odd tangle of herbs that were always drying over his cot. “This is my contract,” she said. “Could you rest until it was completed?”

He pulled the quill up between her fingers and set it aside, cupping her now empty hand in his and gently massaging the cramps she hadn’t even felt forming. “Of course not. But I would at least break for coffee.”

“Is that an offer?”

“It always was,” he said softly. His fingers stilled against hers and it took all of Arlow’s willpower to keep her hand from twitching, lacing their fingers together. She wanted that comfort. But it wasn’t something she could take so easily anymore.

“Are you brewing from your supply, or ours?” she asked, teasing. Lucanis raised a brow.

“Would you even know the difference?”

“I would,” Arlow said, affronted. “Or do you think Viago didn’t drill us in palate sensitivity?”

“There is a difference in tasting for poisons and knowing a quality brew.”

“The two have a surprising amount of overlap. Just because I’m not a snob—“

“The word you’re looking for is connoisseur.”

“Sure it is.” Arlow rolled her eyes. She capped the inkpot and stood, regretting the chill that took her hand when it slipped from Lucanis’ grasp. “Well, if you’re taking me from work, it better be from your stash.”

“It will be,” Lucanis assured her, holding the infirmary door open. “Someone has to save you and Neve from yourselves.”

“I might be at the point of saving. Neve, on the other hand—“

Lucanis laughed, a low, quiet chuckle that warmed Arlow better than any cup of coffee he promised. He slipped past her to lead the way to the kitchen, the silky samite of his vest brushing against her knuckles. She clenched her fist to keep from chasing after it.

“Let’s get something in you before you’re beyond hope, then,” he murmured, eyes twinkling. The corner of Arlow’s mouth quirked. As long as he looked at her like that, she thought, she wouldn’t be beyond anything. But she didn’t say that.

She gestured across the courtyard with her chin. “Lead the way.”

[lairofsentinel]

Info compilation of Lucanis Dellamorte (part 2)

Warning: I’m using the incorrect lore that this game has since it is the one that they built the game upon. Inconsistent things such as “The Lighthouse is in the Fade” or “Mind imprisonment” nonsense are not dismissed during this compilation even though they are strongly questionable.

Unfortunately, Lucanis character has a lot of issues in his writing; sometimes conversations feel like they were written by three different persons and the game ends up with a frankenstein dialogue which can be barely followed, and one needs to fill in the gaps to keep it somehow cohesive and coherent. Besides, there are several times where he suffers narrative inconsistency: he says something that gets contradicted mid-game without being part of his “development”, if he has any.

Also, I apologise in advance for my bitterness that sometimes spills into the text like the Blight when it comes to the murder of the Lore that Veilguard has done to the DA world.

The current post has the following sections [bold ones]:

Approvals and disapprovals

Body Language

Eyes

Why the pantry?

High focus, cool head, and professionalism

Food and cooking

Mage-killer specialisation and previous jobs

Death and Life

Crows and Family

Spite and Possession

Sleep and Coffee

Flirt and Romance

Lucanis’ Logbook

Others

Info compilation: Part 1 || Part 2

[this post will be likely updated briefly after I do a playthrough without saving Treviso in case additional information is shown, but probably won’t be much]

Spite and Possession

The possession process suffered by Lucanis meant to force him to eat something that had Spite in it as if it were a parasite. This process was inspired by the cult we saw in Cassandra’s personal quest [DAI] in which Seekers were forced to consume red lyrium despite their resistance to its effects [Banter Lucanis-Bellara].

The original intention of the experiment was to cultivate twisted spirits inside the body of mortals and let them erupt from the body as full demons like a “moth emerges from a cocoon” [what’s lore?]. We can see this in some codices along the Ossuary, where prisoners were used as incubators, from which demons emerged and were sent to Vyrantium or Marnas Pell, calling them “successes” [Recruiting mission]. Lucanis prevented this fate by doing a deal with Spite [Banter Lucanis-Bellara], so he was perceived by Zara as a failure [Recruiting mission and Inner Demon quest]. This deal is the one related in the scene where Rook can finally talk with Spite: “Break our chains, kill, escape, and live”. Since his self-acceptance as an abomination is a process that Lucanis has encapsulated in his mind, he is not aware that the prison still exists in his mind and forces Spite to remain there, somehow [what’s lore?]. This situation makes a constant violation of the deal that saved Lucanis’ life.

“Whatever else I am, I’m a professional” is one of the lines after failing the first attempt in killing Ghilan'nain that shows how much of a conflict his possessed condition interferes with his professional, cold side. He tries to process the trauma through work, doing exactly what he had been doing before, to a point in which he does not realise he has compartmentalised the Ossuary in his mind.

Lucanis’ vial of blood in the Ossuary is quite big, implying that he has been bleeding a lot during that year. The torture he experimented for a year was enough to make him forget how Caterina was like [Recruitment quest]

He survived the Ossuary by “shutting down completely, thinking nothing, feeling nothing, except what was needed to escape.” [Davrin-Lucanis banter]

He describes his possession state as something similar to “touching something vast and eternal. A well, deep inside”. He also confesses that the possession terrified him in the beginning, and shares with Harding the impression that their condition is just “the beginning” of something deep down, waiting. [Harding-Lucanis banter]

Even after Inner Demon is complete, he claims to be “a real monster” as an abomination, showing two potential things: 1) that his shame and fear for his possessed condition is not resolved despite all the hints that tell us so [Spite less noisy, Lucanis’ magic around him is more harmonic]. This is a reflection he does when he compares his return to life as a “real monster” with Bellara’s brother [Bellara-Lucanis banter]. 2) Narrative inconsistency [which plagues his character].

Spite can be heard by Emmrich when he is close to Lucanis. [Lucanis-Emmrich banter]

Lucanis claims that Spite is obviously present in his body when the wings are shown: “the wings are a giveaway” [Davrin-Lucanis banter]. The spread of wings is not a voluntary action either [Harding-Lucanis banter]. We assume this situation is like this up to Inner Demon, where he manages to harmonise with Spite to the point where both work together and become more blended. But we cannot know, since all this may be a consequence of narrative inconsistencies too.

Spite focuses a lot on smells, and understands people based on that [Inner demons quest]. This may be a parallel to Lucanis’ year of imprisonment where he claimed that smells and tastes were the aspects that brought him more memories [Coffee with the Crows scene]. Lore-wise makes no sense for a spirit, in its spirit form, to smell anything [what’s lore?].

The Ossuary had a bad smell to the point that Lucanis claims that Kal-Sharok smells better. [The Waiting Stone quest]

It’s harder for Spite to take control of Lucanis’ body when he is awake. When Lucanis falls asleep, Spite takes control, and among other activities [such as sleepwalks] he likes to write cryptic sad poetry [Lucanis’ Logbook].

He spoke to Neve and Bellara about ways to control Spite, but avoids Emmrich since he is uncomfortable in the way he sees him, more like a thesis to study.

His sleepwalk stops once Lucanis and Spite are released from their mental prison, and this also allows Spite to start “understanding space”. This made them reach an equilibrium in which Spite is less noisy. Emmrich claims that thanks to this balance, “the magic around Lucanis has much finer etheric transfusion” [Emmrich-Lucanis banter]. Apparently, the deal made with Spite in Inner Demons implies “fighting enemies together and then having coffee afterwards” [Bellara-Lucanis banter]. This brings balance to both of them, allows Lucanis to have more control of Spite in his body, and implies that he recovers (a bit) his normal sleep patterns. We tend to see him drinking coffee after missions from this moment on [only in scenes after missions]. But then, he is drinking coffee right before the last mission, so… consistency problems again [we are not seeing the changes of his arc development truly sink in].

Spite is a source of shame. Every time he fails in his target, in his composure, in his professionalism, and in keeping control of Spite, he speaks looking down or aside, as shame washes him over. He feels he has let down Rook and Caterina for not being able to control this level of chaos he is holding inside him. For a character so focused on self-control, this situation puts him in a very shameful and vulnerable position.

Every time he is called an abomination there is a small remark on his part that shows he is not comfortable with it [who would?]. He avoids to call himself as such, and opts to use the word “possessed” and its variation.

He claims he never had magical abilities, so his possession is a rarity [not so much for the player if we remember DA2 where mages could force demons into Templars, read Tarohne, the Fell Grimoire, and Xebenkeck for details] but certainly his natural ability to perceive magic is more than strange: itch or pain in the back of his eyes [Bloodbath]. This symptom is triggered sometimes just by casting magic, other times by Fade presence, and it’s worse when blood magic is involved. In Tevinter Nights we learn he can even have deep headaches because of it. Lore-wise, this is a very, very, very questionable ability for a non-mage character and belongs to the big bag of messed up lore we started to see in the DA media after Gaider left Bioware.

Lucanis claims that Spite is impossible to reason with, he “listens to no one”. However, along the game, we discover that Spite truly listens to Rook mainly and Emmrich [Emrrich-Lucanis banter]. So… inconsistency? Or on purpose? Who knows.

In the Codex Questions On Demonic Possession we learn that Lucanis has been studying possession topics in the Lighthouse, finding that all the information that exists is focused on mages. “Every text says I should be dead or impossible”

Spite shows a high level of possessiveness: He claims Lucanis is his so no other spirit or demon would dare to claim him. He also is possessive of the revenges that Lucanis wants to collect: he breaks Lucanis’ awakened control when Illario kills Zara. And by the end of his personal quest, there is a degree of possessiveness with Treviso, claiming he will remove the Antaam from it.

By the end of Lucanis’ personal quest “Murder of Crows” there are two potential Veilguard skills that can be unlocked: Demon of Defiance or Demon of Rebellion, each of them associated with a particular legendary armour. Due to the description of each of them, we can assume that Spite enhances and accentuates his relentless,“spiteful” nature in Lucanis when Illario is imprisoned, while the description of the Demon of Rebellion, that implies that he learns the importance of saving a life over ending it, enhances the resistance aspect of Spite: an attitude of continuing and enduring “out of spite”.

Sleep and Coffee

He liked the beverage before his possession, but now he abuses it to remain awake as much as possible. He claims that Spite can’t easily take control of him when he is awake, but he has no defences when sleeping [sleepwalk scene]. His sleepwalks frightened him [romanced scene], most likely because he fears to kill people he loves. He is a character too focused on keeping control of himself and his life, but Spite breaks this security.

He tries not to sleep much, even less in Treviso. During his wakefulness, he cleans his gear, does exercise, works on his Orlesian vocabulary, and knits strangling cords [Harding-Lucanis banter].

He seems to have a lot of dreams related to work and work failures or situations where the work gets more complicated because the situations are against him [Harding-Lucanis banter]

As part of the jokes around the theme of coffee, we find that Lucanis is offended by Neve’s coffee: prepared with boiled water and somehow ending up in something that is not liquid anymore.

After Inner Demons, he uses coffee as a reward to relax after a job, and it is part of the deal with Spite. However, this is not always shown properly in the rest of the game [narrative inconsistencies].

Flirt and Romance

He is good at noticing flirtation. It makes sense since he was raised among seductive Crows such as Illario and Teia who use flirting techniques among their strategies of attack. He is even more aware than the player when Teia is flirting with Rook, so we can assume that he chooses not to engage to Rook’s flirting due to professionalism or/and the shame he is carrying for being an abomination. It can also be interpreted as a consequence of his inexperience, so he doesn’t know how to answer a direct flirt aimed at him despite noticing it [Personal quest scenes]. Another option is narrative inconsistency and poor writing, as always.

When one of the first flirts [“you are a courageous man”] is detected [is that even a flirt?], he breaks eye contact, and diminishes the compliment [“a stubborn one, perhaps”], while at the same time, thanking it. This proves, more or less, that he recognizes the flirts, but does not engage them. But it’s not a pattern we can follow in each scene, so we can assume narrative inconsistencies.

He is confused by what people expect from him in terms of flirt or “charm”. So he asks for advice and executes the advice between a given context [Taash telling him to spread his wings in private with Rook, or Rook encouraging him to keep feeding Neve things she likes]

When other characters point out his soft or romantic side [Neve, Teia, Bellara, or Rook in scenes or banter] he does not shy away from recognising it. Teia would tease him claiming that he is showing a soft heart, to which he would not care to respond. Neve and Bellara make remarks about his romance [with Rook or Neve] that he takes without a hint of fluster, nervousness, or anything else but a “fact”. With a romanced Rook, Neve would easily make him confess that Rook is good for him without any coyness [Neve-Lucanis Banter, Taash-Lucanis banter, and Bellara-Lucanis banter]. He reinforces his confusion about what Rook sees in him, but he accepts it anyway and doesn’t shy away from openly claiming that Rook makes him happy. We can interpret that despite not being sure what to offer as flirting or charm to his Love Interest, he is not shy about it, and embraces his relationship openly.

Whenever he tries to imply any sense of seduction or flirting, he always adds a line “I hope”, or “I suppose”, reinforcing the concept that he has no idea what’s he is doing when it comes to seduction or flirt; hence why he picks any suggestion given by Rook or Taash. For example: he tried to compare the technique of killing mages to a dance or a seduction, but ended up not being sure about the latter.

Apparently, he has a romantic, sentimental side. He describes coffee blends like a goodbye kiss, bitter and sweet, while a first kiss is sweet like honey and intriguing like lavender cream. He also seems to understand that “on the matter of the heart one must be discerning”. When Rook questions what matters most for him, his answer is more sentimental than what we could expect: the people he cares about. [“You never thought about changing the course of your life? Change for the things that matter to you?” “Perhaps what matters is who I am with”]

He prefers to read romance [Harding-Lucanis banter] which fits with what was explained above.

Lucanis admits that Rook’s/Neve’s relationship is his first one, and he had an attempt to get romantic attention from Viago, but it was ignored [Emmerich-Lucanis banter]. He had given him a dagger as a present.

Lucanis’ Logbook

From this series of codices, we can infer he really likes making and following schedules. He exercises, maintains his weapons, and prepares meals as a way to avoid falling asleep [all this is confirmed later via banter too]. He has regular meetings with other party members to talk about the mission they are working on [Bellara, Neve, Harding, and Emmrich] or about Crows [Taash]. He also spends part of his time “studying”. Even if the logbooks don’t say what he is particularly studying, we can infer in the codex Questions On Demonic Possession that he is searching for answers about his possessed condition.

He is a bit uncomfortable with the lack of cycle day-night in the Lighthouse, comparing it to the timeless sense of the Ossuary [Lucanis's Logbook, 1 ].

At times, the logbooks break the schedule, and we can read exactly where Lucanis fell asleep and Spite continued writing. Spite seems to cryptically refer to something which is “a piece cut from the whole” [using playful wording], a protection cage with golden stranded weaves. Spite also draws decagonal diagrams [Lucanis's Logbook, 2 ]. My personal interpretation is Spite’ call for help since he is still in the mental Ossuary, trapped in a cage that means some protection. The “piece cut from the whole” may have some reference about the fragmented state in which Spite and Lucanis are at this point, but also may have some potential interpretation of Spite being part of a “whole” previous to his torture at Zara’s hand. This second interpretation is linked with the second poetry that Spite writes in the Logbook 3.

As Lucanis said in the quest “Coffee with the Crows”, the smells and tastes are the things that bring the strongest memories, and we also find this aspect in Spite, who seems to smell something from the “beyond” and remembers with burning pain [grieves?] his time before being twisted and tortured [Lucanis's Logbook, 3 ]. He claims he was “infinity”, not a shade, not a claw in a gut [which may be how he sees himself in Lucanis’ body: a painful sharp claw hooked in his guts]. Basically, we read in a cryptic way how Spite mourns his own change due to torture, his twisted present, and even maybe his effect on his host. Spite is as hurt in this situation as Lucanis is with his possession.

In Lucanis's Logbook, 4 we can see that Lucanis finds more clarity in the presence of Rook [“It is an hour found. An hour more clear than any other”].

If Miranthous was saved, Lucanis focuses on studying ways to recover his city while reading about possession in a very intense way. Thanks to the unique scene we obtain in this path, we know that Lucanis is determined to find a way to separate Spite from his body [Lucanis's Logbook, 5 ] and by contrast with a Lucanis whose city was saved, we can infer that the mental Ossuary was never solved, and his body is a constant battlefield for control between himself and Spite.

If Treviso was saved [Lucanis's Logbook, 5 ], Lucanis does not read about possession, and instead, we find another poem by Spite who seems to appreciate Lucanis and the sensations of his body [the wiggling toes while drinking coffee], while at the same time, he uses 2 interesting words: a small shade, repeated from the previous poem, and a “wounded spirit”, which seems to imply Spite is seeing himself as such, and not entirely as a demon. However, the small shade was a description already used in his previous poem that seemed to imply Spite, so the wounded spirit is Lucanis? If we assume these writers are using the word “spirit” as synonymous of “soul” [it would not surprise me, considering how careless and messy they are with the lore in general] this wounded spirit could also be understood as Lucanis, since a possessed person always gets “wounded/scarred” and easy to possess later if they managed a solution [but all this is real DA lore that I doubt these writers truly considered]. In this poem Spite repeats the concept of Infinite, as this original source he mourns to not to belong to anymore, but instead of a Cage, he describes a Shelter now [Lucanis’ mind is now a shelter?], and then a Storm, which may have a cheap “foreshadowing” implication with the last chapter of the game. In any case, we can read here a calmer Spite, and this last logbook even leaves a bit open the interpretation that a path for Spite to become Determination again, or being a bit closer to it, is possible.

Others

He claims he only knows how to solve problems with knives. [Bellara-Lucanis banter] which explains how difficult it is for him to work around non-death related situations or romantic ones [after all, his interest in Viago was also “solved” with a knife].

Lucanis may divide people as three different kinds: Enemies, contracts, and family [Inner Demon]. It’s clear over time that family is a broad concept for him, since it would eventually include his love interest and the team.

He doesn’t seem to be fond of promises or do not trust them [Coffee with the Crows]. This may be related to his vision of life and death, since everything is destined to die and fade, same as promises.

He has never been in Ferelden despite the Crows taking contracts from all over Thedas. He explains that since the Fifth Blight they don’t work there anymore because of Loghain. He adds that House Arainai embarrassed themselves so much that the Crows buried six different Eight Talons—probably a soft reference to Zevran and his assassinations of the guildmasters that followed years later after the end of DAO—[Harding-Lucanis banter].

He has a snake pet [Tassh-Lucanis banter]. It’s not clear if this comment is a real fact, and he has a snake as a pet or he is referring to Illario, to whom he describes as a snake a couple of times after the discovery of his treason.

He liked wyverns as a boy. He was not aware that they could be kept as pets until Harding narrates a bit about what we played in DA2: Mark of the Assassin . He considers that keeping a wyvern cannot be worse than keeping Illario. He took contracts in Orlais but never in the countryside, so he laments not having taken a target and disposing of the body as bait to watch wyverns closer [Harding-Lucanis banter].

If the resolution of the quest that describes an affair between a Venatori and a Crow ends up killing the lovers, he will say “tragic end, but a Crow’s heart is pledged to Antiva”, which may justify why he is locked out of romance if Treviso is not saved [ironically, only for Rook, he has no problems with Neve; narrative inconsistency, I suppose].

During the extended version of Lucanis’ quest [shopping with Lucanis] we learn that he has expensive tastes. He acknowledges that he lived a very comfortable life before the Ossuary, which is quite clear once we see the Villa Dellamorte.

[lovelyshu]

HOW CAN I WRITE LOVE INTO REALITY? — with jeongin

description. who knew that a study session could lead to love confessions.

tags. gn!reader, best friends!reader and jeongin, not proofread, short(?)

comments. hii, had this idea from these pictures so uhhh, enjoy??

You and Jeongin have been friend for years now. Ever since middle school, you two never separated from each other.

And some people even went to the point of shipping you two. I mean, he's always looking for you and vice versa. It's not hard to think that you're dating him.

Well, maybe you even enjoyed it.

Not that anyone else needs to know that. Especially Jeongin.

The more you spent time with him, more those feelings would get harder and harder to ignore.

And lucky for you, today was going to be one of your studies sessions with him.

You were waiting for him to arrive, already reading some of the content so you have an idea on what to do.

Not even a few moments later, you heard knocking, and you felt a bit embarrassed from how quick you got up to open the door, even daring to stop in front of it so it didn't sound like you were desperate for him to come.

I mean, you obviously weren't.

“Hey, come in.”

There wasn't a need for extended or formal greetings anymore, so you usually just say the same thing and he nods with a smile.

You two walked to your room, which was a bit messier than usual from all the intense studying from the last days.

“Please excuse the mess, I have been focusing too much on these tests and a clean room isn't my top priority right now.”

The only reason you stopped talking was because you heard him laugh, already making himself comfortable on your bed.

“It's fine. You don't need to die from nervousness. We're friends, in case you've forgotten.”

You know he meant that in a way that you're not strangers.

But his words still made you sad for a moment, that you sure as hell hoped he didn't noticed.

“Yeah yeah, let's just start this please. I feel like I'm going to fail even my name on this subject.”

That only made him laugh even more, which eventually, made you laugh as well.

After an hour or two studying non stop, you started to get tired. Which Jeongin noticed right away.

“Let's have a break. You look like you're going to sleep on top of those books.” — he was trying to make a joke, but what he said was true. You were looking very tired.

“No, let's continue. I think I'm starting to understand this.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and before your brain could process it, Jeongin was standing right in front of you.

“There's no 'no'. We're taking a break now.”

There was no reason to try to protest, your body might be okay, but your mind was basically shutting itself down and refusing to read anything.

Jeongin sat down next to you, hesitantly moving your head to his shoulder.

Which surprised you, and honestly, even himself.

It's not like you haven't been in this position before, but this time it felt different. It felt more..

Intimate.

And you're pretty sure he thinks the same, since he's been pretty quiet and that's a rare occurrence between you two.

The half awkward silence stayed for a little longer, until he poked your side, getting your attention.

Jeongin didn't say a word, only putting something on your lap and looking away.

You saw what he had handed you - a letter. Listen, you were by no means someone too delusional or anything, but you were almost sure this was a love letter.

Your eyes were focused solely on the paper, carefully opening it and slowly reading what was written.

With each word you felt your heart beating faster, a soft, but noticeable tint of red creeping on your cheeks.

You were about to say something, but Jeongin was faster.

“I know this isn't the best moment and all, but I'm not sure when will I have the courage to give this to you again.”

Looking at him, you couldn't help but smile. This was one of the rare moments where he was truly embarrassed and even flustered. Because of you, nonetheless.

“Before we do anything about this, just know that.. I love you too.”

Now, it was a shock he didn't broke his neck from how fast he turned around to face you.

You two stared at each other, not sure on what to do or what to say. Well, until you pulled him for a kiss.

It wasn't by any means a long kiss or anything, but it was enough to pass the message.

He smiled at you and you mirrored his smile, feeling zero interest in going back to study.

Wanting to only enjoy this moment.

[sleepingdayaway]

For The Dancing And The Dreaming

Guys idk how I’m doing this on mobile I usually post it on my laptop so idk if this will look good. Anyways it’s 4:30 in the morning and this is not edited. I wrote this spur of the moment bc I’m an idiot that doesn’t know how to write.

This is no specific Link! I wrote this bc I’m TRYING to write my own LOZ fic but got distracted. Either way I’m tired

You watch the roaring fire as it flickers in the night. The light from it shines around the area as you exhale softly. There is no point in camping outside anymore, but it's something that the both of you keep doing even after the adventure is over. 

It's the familiar feeling of having to take a quick rest before continuing to the next destination. The same feeling of having to rest with each other, having the world shut off, and being able to take a moment.

Footsteps approach your position before coming to a stop beside you, looking up and seeing the person who you; you’ve known your entire life. You're both older than when you first started the journey, for it caused you many physical challenges but still there are moments where you feel as though you’re back to before it all. 

Tonight is another night of thinking of the past; the bad and good, your accomplishments and your failures. They all still haunt you to this day even if your deeds were good. 

The weight of being back to nothing more than those kids again; the kids who had their own small bubble without knowing more than the whole world. Their only concern is if they'll be caught messing around again, or what new activity you'll try this time before getting bored and going back to the old ways.

A hand gently grasping onto yours pulls you out of your thoughts. Which makes you look up at him and witness the adoring smile he gives you. From the moment everything started he kept looking at you with the same emotion, but if you were to be honest, he held that look far before everything. Link, although not a very talkative person, is able to convey everything that he wants to say in different ways and still be able to express everything.

Watching him change from the boy you used to know to a hero who saved Hyrule; it made you happy to know that you were there the entire time. That he was able to rely on you and your own skills; and how you were able to also rely on him as well.

Never would either you believe that this was your destiny, but you're glad that you both had each other.

And now here you are in each other's presence with the fire in front of you. 

"I’m glad that we were in this together, Link." You said softly and curled your fingers around his hand. He hums in agreement and leaned into you; never taking his eyes off you. 

No one calls for either of you. There is nobody that needs to be saved anymore.

It's just the both of you once more. 

If you were to tell Link before this whole thing started that you'd be with him the entire time. He'd laugh but wouldn't deny it; he'd merely give a look with a shake of his head. Anything that he did, you would be right there and jump in with him. 

The both of you were practically inseparable; if he was there doing something then you would probably be somewhere nearby. For as long as Link knew you he could confidently say that he wouldn't trust anyone else than you.

Your unwavering presence motivated him to keep going. Your snarky remarks about the monsters. The way you freely expressed your fear, but still continued to fight. It made him feel a bit better about his own fears. You were his breath of fresh air whenever the journey took a huge toll on him. How you held him during the moments when he was able to take a break; and reassured him that he was only human that couldn’t shoulder everything. You shared his burden without a word and just held him in your arms.

Link liked you.

He always has if he's being honest, but it was during that moment where it fully clicked that he was fully unashamedly in love with you. Link wanted nothing more than to kiss you; to show his love and affection just for you.

Link decided at that moment that he will be there for you from that moment on. He may be Hyrule's Hero, The Golden Goddesses Chosen Hero, forever destined to pick up the Blade of Evil's Bane.

But for you he'll be anything for you.

He will be your hero until the next lifetime. Neither time nor death will separate him from you for he'll always find you no matter what. 

Suddenly he stood up and pulled you with him and held you close. Staring into your eyes with many emotions running through them. 

“[Name], I want you to know that I love you.” Link spoke softly as he kept holding you. You blink at him since it’s been awhile you’ve heard him call your name; relaxing in his hold you smile.

 “You’ve been through this whole thing with me even though I didn’t ask you to,” he continues, “So now, I want to be there for you with anything you need. I love you and I can’t see myself without you being near me.” He confesses.

He would do anything just to have you by his side, “I would bring you gems, jewelry; I will defend you from any creature that tries to hurt you, if you’ll have me-” Link chokes up a bit as he feels his emotions take a hold of him.

You reached out and held his face in your hands, and brought him closer to you. “I don’t have any use for gems nor jewelry. I don’t care if you can protect me or not, I will gladly stay by you.”

Laughing gently at your words, Link places his head onto yours as you run your fingers through his hair. “My dear, I could never be cruel to deny you nor my love. As long as I’m beside you; I am satisfied.” You continued before closing your eyes and leaning onto him.

The world may never call for Link anymore, but that’s fine with him. As long as he has you he’ll forever be hopelessly in love.

[recurring-polynya]

In one of my other fanfics, I made an allusion to a story from Rukia and Renji's youth where she got nervous about the size of her chest and made Renji give an opinion on the matter. I was always very charmed by the idea of it, and earlier this week, I felt like writing it, so I did. Originally, I didn't intend to post it, because it skirts a little close to underage sex stuff, but a) they're immortal ghosts and they live on their own and become child soldiers like two years later, and b) it's really nothing. Teens, even human teens, can see a boob. It's fine. Don't read it if it bothers you. Also, if this bears resemblance to multiple stories I have written in the past, it's because I think Rukia is just like that. This will probably not be the last one, either.

Rated a hearty PG-13 for cussing, partial nudity, and some adolescent sexual awakening

| read on ao3 |

"Renji," said Rukia. "I need your opinion on something."

Renji had been breaking up sticks to dry out for firewood around the backside of the broken-down squat he and the gang had been trying to get into shape for their winter digs. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "My opinion?" he grumbled. "Is everyone else off somewhere?" It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't heard anyone else's voice in a while.

"Well, yes," Rukia mumbled. "They went into the woods to try and set some traps and maybe do some foraging. But I'm not asking because you're the only one around. I was waiting to ask you until everyone was busy."

That got Renji's attention. This was not the first time Rukia had cornered him like this. He assumed she did this to the other guys, too, but he didn't actually know for certain. Renji tossed the stick in his hand back onto the pile and turned to give Rukia his full attention. She was standing in a funny way, her arms crossed awkwardly over her chest. She looked almost like she was cold, except that it was early September and still sweltering.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You're going to wonder why I am asking you this," she said, her eyes fixed somewhere off to one side, "and it's because I'm trusting you not to be weird about it. Everyone else would try, but then they would be weird about it, and I know you won't be."

Renji continued to regard her silently. She wasn't asking anything particular of him, just stating what she expected. Renji decided he liked the idea of being a guy who wasn't weird about stuff, and decided he would do his best to uphold that trust. He was also prepared for whatever she was going to say next to be spectacularly weird. This was Rukia, after all.

"Also," she said, "you go around with your shirt off all the time. You're the least self-conscious person I know about. You know. Body stuff."

An alarm signal went zinging through Renji's nervous system. It was true that he wasn't all that concerned about bodies, his own or other people's. A long time ago, he'd had to make a decision about Rukia's body, which he sometimes had to touch and slept next to at night and had seen naked more than a few times. She'd become a little secretive about that recently, and he'd taken care to respect that decision and avert his eyes when he needed to and made sure all the other guys did too. The decision he had made was that Rukia's body was exactly like Fujimaru's and Mameji's and Kosaburou's, which was to say, it was a thing that existed but was none of his business, unless say, she needed an injury patched up or something like that.

"Something wrong?" he asked gruffly.

"Not-- well, I don't know. That's what--that's what the opinion is for."

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really not sure I'm the right person to ask. I know the old herb lady is pretty deep in her own brain most the time, but if you catch her on a good day, she knows a lot of stuff about--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Renji, I just want to know if my boobs are good or not!"

Renji stared at her. Rukia's face was beet red now.

"Uh…what?"

Rukia made a little huffing noise. "Look. I know you know I've been binding my chest for a while now."

Renji shrugged noncommittally. Rukia hadn't been particularly shy about letting them see her in her chest wrap. A lot of girls in Inuzuri did. Usually, it was a safety measure.

"I think they might be done growing. I'm worried they're…well, they're kinda small."

Renji ran his fingers through his hair and tried not to look at her. "Seems like that would make them easier to bind, no?"

"Well…yes, that's true."

"It's not like it's something you can control. You shouldn't worry about it."

"I just don't know! Maybe they're fine actually! I'm the only one who gets to see them and I think I may have gotten too wrapped around my own axle about it and I just wanted a second opinion, okay?"

Renji sighed. "Okay. Sure. If it'll make you feel better."

Rukia took a deep breath and then lowered her arms. Nervously, she tugged at her yukata below the sash to get it adjusted properly.

There was now the slightest curve in the fabric between her shoulders and her waist. Renji wasn't sure he even would have noticed it if she were just some girl he saw on the street. But that curve was there, and it was doing something weird to the pit of his stomach.

Cleavage was no rare sight in Inuzuri. Both in the streets and the gambling halls, plenty of women kept theirs on display for, uh, business reasons. Renji could tell the difference between the more and less attractive sets, but he'd never been quite as excited by the prospect of a hearty set of tits as some of his peers. He didn't think this constituted any kind of moral high ground. The fact was, he was just mostly into dudes. A pair of well-muscled forearms or a particularly sharp jawline was usually more likely to do him in. But there was something about that mysterious curve, the suggestion of tits, of Rukia's tits…

"They look fine to me," he announced.

Rukia looked down at them and frowned thoughtfully.

A strange, slightly foreign thought, possibly a stray memory from his human life, popped into Renji's brain. "Isn't there even--like with fancy kimono--aren't you supposed to make a smooth profile? Maybe you've just got a fancy-lady figure."

Some of the color had receded from Rukia's cheeks. "Why do you always know these things? Also--fat lot of good that's going to do me."

Renji shrugged. "What kinda good were you hoping they were gonna do you, anyway? I mean, you wouldn't wanna-- that is--" He grimaced, thinking about business reasons again.

"I might like to kiss someone, someday!" Rukia declared, cheeks going hot once more. "I'd like…to be worth looking at. You're going to be ten feet tall and have shoulders for days and you've already got that hair, so I realize that's something you've probably never once thought about."

Renji stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You think I'm good-looking?"

Rukia seemed to be staring at something over her shoulder. "You're certainly striking."

Renji had honestly never thought about himself in that way before. Mostly, he thought he'd stuck out in a way that was mostly pretty inconvenient, given their skulking and pickpocketing lifestyle.

"You have an interesting voice," he pointed out, drawing the words out as he tried to think of more things a theoretical person who was not him might find attractive about Rukia. "And you're good at a lot of things." She also had a pretty face, maybe the prettiest face he'd ever seen in Inuzuri, with big blue eyes that you could just fall into. He couldn't say all that shit, though. It would just embarrass both of them, plus she would think he was lying to make her feel better. He wasn't. It wasn't even, like, his opinion, it was just the objective truth.

Rukia huffed again, clearly unsatisfied.

Renji threw up his arms. "They're under your clothes! Wouldn't you rather kiss someone who likes you because you're cool, rather than because you've got a nice pair of knockers? Which isn't even to say they aren't nice! You just can't tell! They could be great under there. That's it's own kind of allure. The-- the, uh, mystery." He regretted saying it the moment it was out of his mouth. This always happened with Rukia, though. He was always telling on himself.

Rukia stared at him for a long moment. Then she hooked her finger over the closure of her yukata and pulled it away, staring down into the depths.

"Are we done?" Renji asked, trying to sound bored and failing when his voice wavered on the last word.

Rukia looked back up at him. "You've never even see a naked girl-tit, have you, Abarai?"

Renji wrinkled his nose. "Not…not really, no. Not…head-on."

Rukia set her jaw. "Okay. We're doing this."

"What--" stammered Renji. "What are we doing? We don't need to--"

Rukia pulled her yukata wide and shimmied her shoulders loose.

Renji swallowed thickly.

He had changed his mind. He did, in fact, like girls. Fuck, did he like girls.

Rukia's breasts were small, that was just a fact. They were also gorgeous. Smooth and straight on top, ending in a sharp, rosy nipple. They curved gently on the underside back to where they rejoined her body, like two ripe, blushing pears. Renji could imagine cupping one in his hand, the way it would fit in his palm perfectly. He squeezed his hands into fists, reminding himself that they were dirty and covered in small bits of bark from breaking the sticks. He absolutely could not reach out and touch them, even beyond the possibility that Rukia would murder him if he did (would she, though? He wondered). It turned out this was a mistake, because now he was thinking about kissing Rukia's breasts, about the way they would taste, how he could take nearly the whole of one in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck, Rukia, put your shirt back on!"

"They can't be that bad," Rukia grumbled.

"They're not, they're really good! Surprisingly good! You should save them for whoever it is you want to kiss! Please put your shirt back on!"

"You're so weird," Rukia laughed, and he was glad to hear the ring of relief in her voice.

There was a long pause with a few rustles of fabric being adjusted. Renji chanced to unsqueeze one eye to see if she was dressed again. He was just in time to see her cross the second side of her yukata over the first, catching a last glimpse of a pretty little tit before the fabric settled over it. A secret once again, but no longer a mystery. Fuck.

"You can open your eyes now, you big baby," Rukia announced, reknotting her sash. Evidently she hadn't noticed him peeking. She wasn't even blushing anymore. "Thank you."

"I don't know why you asked me," Renji mumbled. "You know I'm no good at being reassuring and shit like that."

"I didn't want you to be reassuring," she replied, looking up and favoring him with a brilliant smile. "I wanted you to be honest. Which…clearly you were. I don't know what else that could possibly have been."

"Shut up," said Renji.

Rukia snorted softly. "Do you wanna go find the others and fix their snares for them? I'm sure they've set them up wrong."

"I wanna finish dealing with these sticks first," Renji replied. It took his entire strength of will to unclench his hands and pick up a stick, a long, heavy one. He winced when it broke much more easily than he had expected it to. The sound of it was deafening.

"I can help," Rukia said cheerfully, picking up another stick and snapping the side branches off it expertly, humming while she worked.

Renji picked up another stick, and suddenly wished the pile was bigger than it actually was.

"Hey, Renji?"

"What now?"

"They really are--?"

"Yes. Don't ask me again."

Rukia gave a little chuckle, and so softly that he almost didn't hear it, added, "Huh. Who knew?"

[kittnpaws]

I wanted to go through the Act 3 trailer so I can totally not write some theoretical fanfiction.. as I do.. and I needed to take notes so I thought I could share since its kinda fast paced

This is not a comprehensive list:

-With Ambessa's army we notice: The sky, meaning they're topside, solidiers injected with shimmer and buff af

-Caitlyn, Vi, Mel? (her backs to us) and Jayce in a war room staring at a city replica while Caitlyn asks if Viktor is at the center of it all

-Someone injecting another beast (or is it vander? I cant tell from this angle), someone floating in the fetal position in a fluid tank, someone turning a gas valve

-Ambessa and Singed staring in shock of something

-One of Viktor's fallen awakening via the fingerprints left on his face

-Exploding topside buildings

-Ambessa coming for Caitlyn's LIFE with a dagger (that she took from Cait) and she's maybe going for an eyeball

-Vi yelling at Cait in that library studyish room about siding with Ambessa

-Ambessa going buckwild on the battlefield, covered in gold armor

-Caitlyn shouting back to Vi "I know!"

-Cait taking a shot with a big ass rifle

-Ambessa calling for soldiers to fire, breaking glass with Jinx's face on it, leading to a shot of Jinx in a burning building

-What i'll note about that last one is that the glass shatters in one direction, then seems pulled back in the other- maybe alluding to Ekko's powers to reverse time

-Jinx pulling a grenade pin

-Jinx holding a power ball while Vi talks about her using her explosive potential for good

-Cait(i think?) in Them Goggles firing through The Gas^tm and I cant tell if that is Jinx who fires back at her?? Pls advise

-Vi Wreck it Ralphing the shit out of some guy in that electrical collider thing

-Jinx's heavy gun is back

-VI WITH RED HAIRS (I'm wondering if the black was spray on lol or if she dyes it BACK. Both are loaded options. Also she has a little bandaid on her nose

Let me know if you want to add anything else, please keep comments or replies kind and respectful!

[hanaybuns]

OK so lets keep it rolling!

Ichimatsu:

mr.my pace? yeah he's an experimental freestyle waving popper

in high school he took hip-hop dance classes because he thought it was fun and his friends were like "woaah ichi thats so cool"

but even though he enjoyed dancing, he stopped going after high school because he just felt suffocated learning in front of others

but the fundamentals were still ingrained in his body and he really enjoyed the pop and lock week they had

he started to watch videos and discovered waving and really loved how fluid and dynamic it was

now he takes from all genres and does what he wants, he lets the music take control and its truly a sight to behold

his dancing style focuses on a lot on flexibility and fluidity but stays grounded in fundamental hip-hop techniques

he still absolutely hates dancing in groups and has stopped going to competitions

he still does the occasional dance battle with his brothers and they beg him to get back into the game

especially jyushimatsu, he sees how much ichi enjoys dancing, but limits himself because of his anxiety

also, despite being an incredibly talented dancer, ofc ichimatsu thinks he sucks

(somehow even though i don't think about ichi as much as the rest i always end up writing the most for him, maybe its bc i feel like i have to do him justice lol)

i've given up on gifs, he dances like this and when he's really feeling himself and having fun he dances like this (specifically rubix, the guy in the black shirt)

jyushimatsu:

jyushi and ichi are the hip-hop free style duo, but jyushi leans more towards break dancing and lite feet

jyushimatsu is ofc, very high energy and a very charismatic dancer, he competes in freestyle dance competitions

he's also incredibly good at riling up the crowd and getting them on their feet, he'll even cozy up to them during a dance and get them to join him

nothing is off the table for him, he'll pull from ballet and jazz if he sees fit

he almost always wins these competitions because his body follows jyushimatsu physics and bends in whatever angle at his will

but he has a very precise vision, like it looks like he's just doing whatever but he knows exactly what he's doing

he usually dances alone, even though he does enjoy dancing with others, they can't quite keep up with him at times

he especially loves dancing with ichi though, he's the only one that can match his energy (not physical energy, but like vibes)

jyushi is actually the one that sparked this idea for me, it's bc i saw the first round of this on tiktok (the angles were better) and thought "dude this is exactly how jyushimatsu would dance". He dances like both of them, the camera sucks but the first guy, nonoy, is grinning the whole time and teasing the other guy.

Todomatsu:

now totty is hard for me because i wanted totty to do ballet, but osomatsu was already ballet (i need to conform to canon or else i will die)

and i still lowkey have no idea which one i want him to do

but i think i settled on something fun

ok so totty wasnt really into dance in high school, but he didn't want to feel left out so he decided to take his local jazz/musical theatre dance class

he enjoyed it, but stopped after high school and stopped dancing all together because he wanted to break free from his bros

then later he rejoined one of the local adult classes because he remembered that most of the students are girls and ofc totty is never one to pass up an opportunity to get some numbers (well except sometimes he is in season 3, but thats besides the point)

he likes it, but one time some of the girls go to watch this freestyle dance competition and invite him

totty watched in awe

he wanted to be different from jyushi and ichi, so he always tried to avoid anything freestyle or hiphop related, but man it was so awesome

so now totty combines hiphop and jazz choreo and makes his own choreography

all the girls in his studio really like him and think his vision is really cool...but not cool enough to date him

he makes his own tiktok dances to viral songs and like, one of them went semi-viral and he was so proud of himself

that being said, he'll mainly post cutesy dance trends and trending tiktok dances and try to get the girls to do them with him

sometimes he gets jyushi and ichi (wearing a mask for anonymity ofc) to be in his tiktoks and he gets really mad because those are the ones that go viral

he never lets choro, oso, and kara in his vids because they get so annoying about it

He's a fusion between the leopard hat guy in this video and the choreo in this vid

NOW those are my hcs, I will cover the official dancematsus in another post

so a while back i learned that there was an episode of osomatsu kun where chibita and osomatsu compete to be prima donnas in iyami's ballet and it got me thinking: what if osomatsu continued and all the brothers became dancers?

so i came up with different types of dance i thought they would get into, but then i found out that theres already an official art with them as dancers!

so I'm gonna compare my hcs with what the staff came up with

(I'll add gifs for how i think they would dance)

Osomatsu:

ok so ballerino oso is extremely disciplined when it comes to ballet, but nothing else in his life.

he's a very charismatic and energetic dancer, he takes up roles like basilio from don quixote and romeo

he used to make perverted comments about the girls costumes in high school and he got reprimanded so badly that his instructor threatened to drop him. he never made a comment like that again.

he still gets in trouble for sneaking drinks and fatty food after performing though

he loves taking up upbeat roles, but his instructor challenges him to channel his emotions into darker roles, he understands that osomatsu has always been a troubled person.

when he gets angry with his brothers, instead of shutting down like he does in the anime, he goes to the studio and practices for days.

the ballerinas in his company warn new students about him "yeah he's a pervert and lazy, but he's a decent guy on stage so don't worry about dancing with him"

Karamatsu:

ballroom, the drama, the emotion, the chemistry, the ROMANCE THE SPARKLEEESSSSS karamatsu loves ballroom dancing.

He specializes in latin ballroom dancing, but can do standard as well

his instructors get mad at him because he loooves to improvise and give his partner an extra twirl and an extra lift when he can

he always ends up falling in love with his partner, he can't help it! "heh, dance and love are the same" he says.

his parters always end up almost crushing on him back, but recoil when they interact with him outside the studio

they're put off by him and his painfulness, but ultimately love dancing with karamatsu. his energy is infectious and always makes for a great show

they get annoyed with him sometimes though, he tends to like to steal the show

he will always find a way to incorporate blue sequins or glitter into his dance wear, his choreographer will literally monitor him until the day of the competition and somehow an hour before it starts he's covered his suit sequined stars (i couldn't find good gifs for him but the couples in this video are exactly how i imagine it)

Choromatsu:

ohhh choro is a tap dancer, and a pretentious one at that

he wanted to be the one to do ballet because it demands a lot of discipline, but ultimately he wasn't athletic enough

he loves tap though and he'll physically fight anyone who makes fun of tap

he mostly does solo choreo because he gets nervous dancing with girls

oh, but if it's group choreo he'll be that guy that'll correct people if they're making a mistake

when people started getting mad at him, he started doing that thing that theater kids do "choreographer, it's supposed to be your left foot on that beat right? ok thanks, just making sure" and looks at you

the people in his studio think he's annoying, but ultimately respect him as a dancer

he works extremely hard, he'll practice every single day and make sure every beat is perfect

he makes his own tap choreo to nyaa chan songs and does them at her concerts

wow it's so much harder to find good tap dancing gifs that you would think, just watch this

k so this post is getting right long, i'll cut it off here and continue later. but keep in mind that these are MY head canons and I will cover the official stuff too

[easy-there-leftovers]

hey! I was wondering if maybe you can do a Spencer Reid imagine where he is your best friend and you came home with a bloody nose or something due to a fight? You try to avoid him but maybe you pass out from pain or something? Super cute and fluffy

Didn't end up quite doing the ignoring part-- but we shall prevail!!

"What happened to you?" He was immediately by your side, but you elected to make a beeline to your kitchen sink and wash the blood off of your face.

Spencer loved Friday nights.

Studies have shown that people tend to be happier on the weekends, with its effect especially pronounced on Friday nights. Due to the day signifying the end of an average 9-5 work routine, people instinctively look forward to the rest and relaxation they can obtain once they enter their homes.

But Spencer loved it because that's when he got to spend time with you.

The both of you had agreed to set Friday as your weekly allotted "de-stress night" where the two of you would decide, based on a list of shared interests, what stimulating activity you would indulge in. (Though when his co-workers heard about this, they said it was boring and that there was no way it wasn't a euphemism for something else.)

This Friday was supposed to be an Italian Neorealism movie night where you would watch the classics.

He never anticipated you would come back looking like you were from one of the classics.

Much less laughing at him with a weird voice.

"I'm fine, doctor! Terribly sorry you had to see that."

That was definitely doing nothing to comfort him.

"Well-- I'm not fine!"

He went to grab some ice from your fridge and folded it into his handkerchief. Moving around your apartment like he owned the place, before bringing you to look at him and placing the makeshift ice pack on to your nose.

You were completely out of it. Barely even comprehending it was Spencer in front of you if it weren't for his telltale messy curls and soothing scent.

You giggled and nuzzled into his hand that was trying to keep your head upright. Looking up at him as you did.

"Oh my beautiful companion, you should've seen the other guy."

He feels his face flushes under your affection but shakes it away as he continues to fuss over you.

"How about we go sit down?"

He leads you to your couch carefully. Sitting down first and allowing you to use his body as support while you try to hold the cold pouch onto your face.

When it's your turn to sit however, you opt to instead lay your head on his awaiting lap. Deeming it more comfortable in your current state.

There's a lot of loaded emotions in his sigh, but he makes no move to push you off of him. Used to having this much contact with you.

Though usually not under these pretenses.

When he tries to ask about what happened again, you turn to look at him with a sincere expression.

"You know that I love you, right?" He nods, but not without feeling that pinch in his heart.

"You're my best friend and I would do anything for you. Which is why I didn't like it when my friends were saying mean things about you."

Now that, is unsurprising.

He had met a few of your friends before as he practically lived in your space, but he knew they were just trying to be polite. It was obvious they didn't like him.

In a way, it shouldn't have mattered. He wasn't the one who hung out with them, so who cared about what they said?

But you did. And if they didn't like him, it was only a matter of time before you had to choose if it was them and him. And he didn't want you to have to do that.

Then again, part of the reason was because he was dreading your answer.

He stares at your reflection in the TV and urges you to continue.

"To be fair, I think I was just looking for an excuse to pummel them. They were always my least favorite." You laugh out.

They never liked Spencer. Always going on and on about how he was boring, or how he was annoyingly awkward, or how he only ever got in the way when they wanted to hand out with you.

You feel your best friend card his fingers through your hair as you rant. Your thought and words becoming increasingly more coherent as he does.

"So I punched them."

Spencer sighs out your name, but you interrupt him.

"I know what you're going to say. That it's a stupid reason, or that there is no reason to ever resort to violence, but that's how I reacted, okay? I was just really mad and disappointed."

You move the ice pack a little higher on your face when you feel your hold slipping.

"We're probably never going to be friends again, but I don't care." He shakes his head at that.

"You can't just break off those kinds of relationships, you know?" He didn't want you to lose friends just because you felt bad about him.

He knew more than anyone what it was like to be alone. To not have anyone he could rely on.

He didn't want you to feel that way just because of him.

"Oh, but I can. In fact, I don't care what nasty things they have to say about me, but I will not allow them to rag on you."

The hand in your hair stills.

"Rationally speaking, they're right. It can't be all that fun being stuck with me."

You give him a comforting squeeze on his leg because that was all you could reach and look up at his profile.

"You're important to me, Spencer."

He finally looks down at you and sees you already looking at him. Eyes so full of care and wonder that it makes his heart hurt.

You then reached for his hand to rest in yours.

"And if losing a few friends means that I can keep you being yours? Then it can just be us two. Against the world."

He gives you a heartfelt smile as he nods. Squeezing the weakening hand in his as he does.

At the sight of your eyes starting to droop, he carefully takes the ice pack out of your other hand and puts it on your coffee table.

Moving down your sofa a little bit to make the two of you more comfortable.

While this wasn't how you agreed to spend your night, it didn't matter because he got to spend it with you.

Maybe there was another reason he loved Fridays.