#the Spanish felt right for this panel

[violentdick]

-source: World's Finest #5-

Weapon of choice: Un queso muy cursi.

[yanderestarangel]

hihi, i really love your writings so i'm deciding to request. could you do miguel o'hara with an ftm reader- maybe some size kink, possessiveness, breeding, and degradation? thank you and have a great day/night!

𝐔𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐈́. | MIGUEL O'HARA X MALE READER

A/N: thanks for liking my work anon, I hope you like this one too.

🕸️ 》 TW: degradation, size kink, breeding, sex without a condom, ftm reader, male pronouns, biting, possessive sex, dark smut, porn plot, some phrases in spanish, power play.

Miguel was a different spider man and perhaps the most complicated person to deal with in the entire spider society... However, he was a totally different man with you, always praising you for small victories and missions ── in an extremely possessive and strange way , after all, what differentiated you from others?... But for him, you were perfection in person, perhaps, the only variation in the entire multiverse that he felt connected enough to care about and it was that fucking unilateral connection that made you made him be in that submissive and compromising position.

You were leaning over the hard, cold technology panels of his office, the color orange standing out against your skin, as you watched the older man's thick, pulsing cock slide in and out of your pussy, making the sweetest, sweetest noises. dirty things a man could do... You were doing that moment.

Miguel grunted like a hungry animal, one of Spider-Man's hands was on your neck, his claws slightly went in and out due to the strength and emotions of anger he felt at that moment ── he saw the way you smiled at another spider variant, how you blushed when you flirted with someone else, how he could lose you if he didn't mark his territory on your body, like a sinful sanctuary.

"You can't escape me. I've been patient long enough. It's time for you to learn your place, beneath me... Mi Angelito... Always teasing me with those bright eyes and sweet ways..." He accelerated his movements, tearing off the rest of your uniform with his free hand, your breasts jumped free as he groaned as he saw them bounce with each thrust he gave into your wetness.

O'Hara's red eyes glowed as he saw you so small and fragile compared to his tall stature, he could break you, he could fuck you until you were a trembling, aching mess ── his cock barely entered your pussy whole, Your velvety walls hugged him back as if your life depended on it... And maybe it did.

"You're a fucking whore, begging for my cock, aren't you?" he taunted, his gaze met his, as he continued to gradually speed up, a white path of semen formed at the base of his cock and painted your pussy like a beautiful halo. "Look at yourself, such a naughty boy, taking my dick so well like an insatiable slut-! I'm going to breed your little pussy, mi guapo, and you'll never have any choice but to stay by my side forever... Isn't that right? You're going to be the fucking father of my children... It's a canonical event ...You cannot run away from your destiny."

Miguel moaned each word, each letter came out like a growl, an order, you were his regardless of whether it was what you wanted before or not ── however, the feeling of being so eagerly filled, the fat tip of his cock hitting your womb , and the heavy balls hitting your ass, were the most addictive narcotic drug you had tasted in years, you wanted to get out of there, but the moans, the possession phrases and the good sex he was offering you was enough to make you moan like a cheap whore, drooling on his cock, making your boss smile and show his fangs, biting your neck hard and marking you as his.

"I've wanted you for so long, ever since you joined the spider society. It took everything in me to hold back, to just be a good spider leader. But I couldn't stop myself from fantasizing about you." His words were sickening, but they made you wetter for some reason, maybe your brain rotted from the pleasure that coursed through your veins, but knowing that he had wanted you for a while made you moan and cling to him insistently.

"That's better," he grabbed your hips while supporting you even more on his control screens, not caring about the mess or damage it would cause later, everything was forgotten there, only your pussy mattered to the older man. "You finally understand your place... I knew you'd be mine, you will be mine forever." You rolled your eyes and felt your orgasm come after a few more stimulations that Miguel made with his cock in your body or with his mouth ── biting your breasts and nipples, kissing you as if nothing else existed in the world ── you felt your fingers your feet curled so hard that for seconds you swore you were going to break them, a loud moan echoed from your throat to the holographic walls, returning to O'Hara's ears, as he filled you with a hot and thick load of his cum ensuring you would take everything like a good boy.

"That's my favorite spider boy... But we're not done yet... I'm going to fuck you until you're full..." Miguel puts one of his thick fingers on your stomach. "Filled up to here, with my cum, you can handle it, right.. mi niño bonito, vas a manejar esto como un niño grande, ¿verdad?"

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

♡⁠˖ 》 my janitor a.i pfp

♡⁠˖ 》 my character a.i pfp

♡⁠˖ 》 my AO3 pfp

[umbrellajam]

Azrael: Agent of the Bat #56 - No Man's Land Dick: "Scared, kid?" Tim: "Not really. A little nervous, I guess." Tim: "Who am I kidding? I'm scared. I feel like those soldiers must have felt right before D-Day." Dick: "D-Day, as in World War Two? You must stay awake in history class." Tim: "We're only up to the Spanish-American War, but I saw the Spielberg movie. Really bloody." Dick: "I hope it doesn't get that bad." Tim: "It won't, will it?" Tim: "Will it?"

Okay, several things I enjoy about this moment.

1. I'm just being so well-fed in terms of great Dick & Tim interactions in this era. Cataclysm, Brotherhood of the Fist, Road to NML, breaking into NML in Robin #67 with classic annoying-older-brother!Dick and Tim panicking about his safety when Dick does a quick death fake-out (typical, honestly lol)... And now with an introspective moment to themselves in the calm before the storm - in Azrael's book no less, lol! I wonder if this came from Dennis O'Neil as something he wanted to include or if it was collaboratively planned as a building-tension moment by the writing/editing teams plotting NML.

2. Tim confiding in Dick my beloved <3 But also - Tim lying at first that he's not really scared, before deciding to just be honest. He has these moments of such earnestness at times (not only with Dick (also YJ, Bruce, Steph, Cass), but often) and they're even more striking because of how prone he is to lying, secrecy, glossing over things and pretending to be fine, etc. most of the time.

He's still pretty young here, barely 15 if that, and his tendencies definitely get worse over time, but he's already wrestled with lying to his Dad, Ariana, Steph, and his other friends, already pretended to be fine to Dick's face in Contagion and Legacy when he was actively dying or under threat of doing so again, refused to tell his Dad he was ever even sick, lied to Bruce's face about Secret, etc... It just sticks out to me so much whenever he chooses to go - yeah, okay, I'll be open with you right now even if it makes me vulnerable.

3. Dick not answering him!! Is that last panel, where we can't see him over Tim's shoulder even though he's positioned right behind him in the others, implying that Dick straight up vanished in order to avoid having to lie or be vulnerable himself lmfao? (I mean, probably not, but the thought is v. funny.)

On the other hand, Dick's silence as a type of honesty and vulnerability in and of itself... We know that as much as Dick likes teasing Tim, he also likes to comfort him, to be that figure of strength and reassurance to him. For him to be the one asking Tim if he's scared in the first place, and then not be able to scrape up anything more than "yeah, hope it doesn't get as bad as literal D-Day" and foreboding silence when Tim admits that he is scared...

It makes me think of that contrasting moment in Murderer/Fugitive later on, where Dick does tell Tim the comforting lie, that he'll always be safe with Batman and Nightwing, that everything will be okay, and desperately wants Tim to believe it.

No such comforting lies in No Man's Land, apparently.

[starsstuddedsky]

Chapter 6 - The Unstoppable Force

reader x jihoon

Chapter 5 | masterlist | Chapter 7

summary: when you're caught in a simple lie, the best solution? dig in and stick to your guns until everything inevitably goes wrong and everyone gets hurt

or, a serial dater and a pessimist fake a relationship in the vain hope that nothing will go wrong

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, lawyer au, coworkers to lovers??? friends to lovers???? fake dating!!!!!

warnings: mentions of food, suggestive jokes, lmk if i missed any!

wc: 4.8k

a/n: MY FAVORITE CHAPTER!!!! technically i don't have a favorite but i wrote half of this in the spur of the moment way before it happened plot wise.. also... sorry but no double chapter </3

taglist: open! send an ask or comment!

Jihoon’s knee pops as soon as he stands up. It’s been doing that lately, especially when he’s been sitting for a while, like the three hour flight and hour and a half drive to the conference today. Maybe he should get it checked out. 

He grabs his suitcase from the back of the car, thanking the driver and heading into the hotel. He has no idea why the conference is in the middle of nowhere. He doesn’t know how the organizers missed the irony of how much gas was used to get here, but apparently the ambience of the woods and ‘refreshing nature’ are vital. 

Logic says the first thing to do when he walks in is to check in and find his room, but unfortunately you betray logic. The second he sets foot in the lobby, you appear at his side, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. 

“Wonwoo is here,” you whisper, though he’s already wrapping his arms around you. It’s only been a day (36 hours, but who’s counting?) since he’s seen you, but being with you now feels sort of like when he lost his favorite set of headphones. He could live without them, but when he found them he felt complete again. 

“How was the first day?” He asks, squeezing you one more time before letting go. Like always, your hand finds his. 

You shrug. “Same as always. McCormick gave the opening speech this year, though, so it was at least entertaining.” You laugh at the face he makes (another thing he missed about you). 

“Please don’t tell me people actually applauded that man,” he says. “I don’t understand why he still comes. They’ve had, like, three oil spills this year alone that he argued were ‘natural’ accidents.” 

“Plus he had the cheating thing,” you say. 

“Cheating?” 

“Please tell me we are gossiping,” Wonwoo says, appearing with a paper cup that probably is filled with watery coffee. 

“Why are you here?” Jihoon asks. 

“You didn’t miss me?” Wonwoo holds a hand over his heart, pretending to be shocked. “I’m hurt. In pain. I haven’t seen you for two weeks, that’s fourteen days! Can’t you at least say ‘how are you?’” 

“How are you?” Jihoon asks, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Why are you here?” 

“I’m passionate about environmental justice!” He says. “I care about—” He frowns at the pamphlet. “Arguments for the continued protection of the endangered solenodon?” 

“Dude, that was a panel yesterday. You sat next to me,” you say. 

“The guy had a really monotone voice, I was working on a case in my head.” 

“That was the translator! The presenter was speaking in Spanish!” 

Wonwoo shrugs. 

It’s strange how well you fit into his world. Jihoon rolls his eyes and laughs at the right moments, watching you and Wonwoo and wondering for the first time what it will be like when this mess is over. Will you stick around, joking with Wonwoo and reminding Jihoon that he does like to be around his friends? Or will you slip away again, back to the outskirts of his life, always there but never by his side. 

You squeeze his hand. “You okay?” You ask softly. 

“Fine,” Jihoon says, shaking off the strange sadness that came over him. “Just a little tired. I need to check in and probably eat something before the seminar on the history of legal discourse surrounding Darwin’s work or whatever.” 

“Why do we come to these?” You ask with a sigh. 

“We care about the future,” Jihoon says, “for some reason.” 

“I’ll order the food!” Wonwoo says, either blissfully unaware of the depressing turn of the conversation or purposefully ignoring it. 

.

.

Jihoon frowns at how violently bright the container is. The lies from that night were never supposed to catch up with him. It’s been so long that he almost forgot he told all of his friends you like spicy food. 

From the way you’re eyeing the takeout container, he’s more than a little scared he was very wrong. Wonwoo puts the rest of the takeout on the table, sliding it to the middle, the dangerously bright container right in front of you. 

“Jihoon, I got your favorite!” Wonwoo says. He opens the box of white rice, setting it in front of him. 

“Isn’t that joke getting old?” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. He pretends not to hear your attempts at hiding a giggle with a cough. 

“Nope!” Wonwoo says. “Did he tell you about the time went to this super expensive buffet and everyone was talking about how good the food was and the only thing he mentioned was how good the rice was?” 

“No!” You say. 

“I did not say that!” Jihoon says. “I was just talking about how well cooked it was and good portions. I said the pork was really good too.” 

“Not to me,” Wonwoo says, opening the first container, revealing pieces of chicken that thankfully do not look like they came from hell. “Anyways, I thought we should celebrate the fact that we are finally having lunch together, despite the two of you dating for two months now and pretending like you don’t know each other at work even though literally everyone knows” 

“He’s petty,” you fake-whisper. 

“Much like all of my friends, he thinks he’s entitled to my entire life,” Jihoon fake-whispers back. 

“It’s called caring about you, actually,” Wonwoo says. “Which reminds me, when are you going to stop being petty and apologize to Seungcheol?” 

“I’m the petty one?” Jihoon scoffs. 

“Okay, fine, when are you going to be the bigger person and apologize?” 

Jihoon takes a deep breath, staring at the takeout containers. “Look, I get it, you care about us and don’t want us to fight. But you weren’t there. Please, just drop it.” 

Wonwoo is quiet for a long moment, studying Jihoon. He doesn’t know how much Seungcheol told the rest of their friends (Jihoon said nothing), but it’s clear they all know something went down. 

It’s been two weeks of this standoff that Jihoon doesn’t feel particularly interested in ending, though everyone is still walking on eggshells in the group chats. Seungkwan has called him three times “just to check in.” But Wonwoo is the first of any of them to ask him about it outright. 

Well, if he expects Jihoon to apologize first, he’s sorely mistaken. He’s done nothing wrong. At least, not that they know of. 

“What is that?” Jihoon asks after it seems like Wonwoo has finally accepted it. He points to the damning container. 

Wonwoo grins. “I’m glad you asked! I know yn loves spicy food, so when I ordered, I made sure to get the hottest option on the menu. The owner even checked to see if we could handle it, but I told him it’s nothing to you.” 

You laugh nervously, glancing at Jihoon. “Well, I had a big breakfast, so I don’t think I’ll be eating too much.” 

“You had the crappy conference breakfast and spent the entire time complaining about how none of the food was good,” Wonwoo says, dumping rice into a bowl that Jihoon is pretty sure he recognizes from Wonwoo’s apartment. “Which is why I made sure to get something you love.” He winks at Jihoon. 

You’re panicking now, and Jihoon is sure that this is all a mistake. Wonwoo opens the chicken container and the pieces look like actual lava, unnaturally bright red. Why didn’t he just say you don’t like spicy food? It’s so much safer, and he wouldn’t be responsible for sending you to the hospital, which he thinks is a very likely consequence of eating this chicken. 

“I’ll try a piece,” he says, reaching out for the container. Maybe if he eats enough you won’t die. At the very least, he might have a hospital bed adjacent to yours. 

“Dude, manners!” Wonwoo says, smacking your hand. “That’s not for you.” 

Jihoon doesn’t know how Wonwoo doesn’t see the fear in your eyes as you pick up the container. Your face turns red before you even taste the meat. He can’t do this. He can’t watch you suffer because of his own lie. 

Jihoon stands, sliding his hand across the table and ‘accidentally’ knocking the container right out of your hands and onto the floor of Wonwoo’s hotel room. 

“Hey!” You shout, at the same time as Wonwoo. 

“Sorry!” He says quickly. “I was going to get some napkins!” 

“That was all the spicy chicken,” you say, casting a forlorn look at the bright pieces of meat cast on the floor. Thankfully, most of it spilled out and the container landed upside down. Jihoon is pretty sure you tossed it more than he hit it, but regardless the damage is done. 

He meets your eyes. You are desperately trying to look betrayed, but you can’t hide the gratitude in your gaze, the corners of your lips fighting to stay turned down into a frown. He has to stop himself from smiling back. 

“Napkins,” Wonwoo says, smacking him in the chest with the pieces of paper wrapped in plastic, breaking the spell between the two of you. “You do realize they were in front of you, right?” 

“Oh,” Jihoon says. He moves more carefully, taking the napkins and kneeling on the floor. “Didn’t see them.” 

It’s obvious what he did. Jihoon knows there’s no way that Wonwoo didn’t notice him doing it on purpose, and he doubts he missed the panic in your eyes, despite how good you are at hiding it. All he can do is clean up the chicken and pray that Wonwoo finds a reason why that isn’t ‘oh my god, they’re faking it.’ 

“That’s going to stain,” you say. He doesn’t have to look to know you’re sporting a smile. He hears a chair slide, and then you’re kneeling beside him. 

“I'll get as much out as I can and I’ll pay Wonwoo back,” he says. His eyes are burning just from cleaning the stuff up; he wonders if it was actually edible. 

You lean closer to him, shoulders pressing together, mouth hovering just over his ear. Your breath sends shivers down his spine. You speak so quietly he thinks he might have imagined it, and then you’re gone, standing up and sitting back at the table. 

“Thank you.” 

.

.

Jihoon takes a deep breath before knocking on your door. He’d waste more time, but the ice cream will melt if he stalls too long, so he just sucks it up and knocks. Waiting for you to answer is worse. What if you aren’t in? What if you’re running around with one of millions of people you seem to know at these events? What if you see it’s him and decide not to answer? You have every right to be mad at him. 

Just when he’s about to turn away, you open the door, hair damp, dressed in a holiday themed pajama set that is covered in snowflakes even though it’s October. Your skin is still a little red, as if you only just got out of the shower. 

Jihoon holds up the bag. “An attempt at an apology,” he says. You take it from him, fingers brushing against his. 

“Anything chocolate flavored is immediate forgiveness,” you say, stepping aside to let him in. “But I don’t think there’s anything to forgive.” 

Jihoon lets the door swing shut behind him. Your hotel room, putting things kindly, is a mess. There’s papers strewn about, clothes tossed around your suitcase, and the bed isn’t made. Minus the papers everywhere, it looks a lot like Jihoon’s room. 

“I genuinely think that stuff would have killed you,” he says. “Besides, I’ve already bought it, you might as well eat it.” 

“We can eat it,” you say, setting the bag on a small corner of the desk that isn’t covered in papers. “If I can find spoons.” 

Jihoon thought he hid his sigh, but you pause from rifling through the limited kitchen supplies on the countertop to glance at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ice cream.” 

“It’s not that,” Jihoon says. “It’s just not my cheat day.” 

“Oh my god, you’re not joking,” you say. “You seriously won’t eat it?” 

Jihoon shrugs. 

“Actually it makes sense, no one looks like you and eats chocolate every day,” you say. 

“What are you talking about?” 

You gesture to him, waving your finger up and down. “You know. All those muscles. They don’t come out of nowhere.” You don’t seem to notice his ears turning red, grabbing a stirring stick to use as a spoon. 

“You’re going to make me eat all alone,” you say. “I think that’s even more sad than drinking alone.” 

“I think you’re being dramatic,” Jihoon says. 

“C’mon.” You scoop a tiny piece, holding it up to him. “You really won’t even try a little bit?” 

He studies the brown mush on the stick. Just a small bit won’t mess up his strict regimen, and more importantly, he doesn’t think he can resist the way you’re looking up at him, eyes wide and lower lip jutting out just a tiny bit. He can’t even allow himself to regret it because when he steps forward and opens his mouth, you grin. 

“It’s good, right?” You ask, even as the stick is still in his mouth. He nods anyway. It is good; thick and creamy, sweet but not too sweet. Solid chocolate ice cream. 

“Well, I can now eat guilt free, so thank you,” you say. “It’s not eating alone when you’ve had some too.” 

“It was less than a teaspoon.” 

“Details,” you say, waving the stick. You pat the bed next to you. “As long as you’re here sitting with me, it’s not eating alone.” 

He should go back to his own room, catch up on the work he fell behind on, watch a couple episodes of Demon Slayer, or call Seungkwan back. He sits beside you. 

“Well, I have no idea how to bring this up, so I’m just going to say it,” you say. You take another heaping scoop, your words clearly mushed by your numb tongue. “I think we should probably break up.” 

Jihoon is glad he’s sitting; even with a mattress behind him, he nearly falls on his ass. “What?” 

“Well,” you say, “my friends probably won't keep believing that my boyfriend is too busy to show up at every event, and the whole thing with Seungcheol… I don’t want to cause problems between your friends, fake or not. The whole point of this was to get them off your back, and now you’re not talking to half of them.” 

“That’s not your fault!” Jihoon says. “This stupid fight was a long time coming, you were just… the catalyst.” 

“I still don’t like it,” you say, pouting with your lips. 

“Seungcheol has this whole thing where he thinks because he had a rough childhood he has to look out for everyone, which usually means that he thinks he knows best. Always.” Jihoon turns to you, waiting until you raise your eyes to meet him. “It’s not your fault,” he repeats. “I promise.” 

“It still doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fake break up,” you mumble. 

“All that will do is prove to Seungcheol that he was right,” Jihoon says with a sigh. He leans against the bed, resting his arms behind him. “But if you don’t want to keep this up, I can’t exactly date someone on my own. Fake or otherwise, that’s just basic manners.” Jihoon is a little proud of himself when you smile. “And it’s in the contract: if your friends need convincing, I’ll be there.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Jihoon says. “You’ve done more than your part.” 

You set the ice cream down on the bedside table. “Well, there’s a Halloween party next week that my friends will be very drunk at, so if you slip up they probably won’t notice.” 

“I’ll be there.” Jihoon is amazed at how surprised you look. Has he been that terrible of a (fake) boyfriend to make you think he won’t go with you to something as simple as a party? Then again, the last party he went to with you didn’t end well. 

The silence is starting to make Jihoon feel uncomfortable, so he browses through the papers on your floor. Most of them are files from the conference, debating possible legal courses against various companies and a couple petitions. 

“Hey, did you get that email from Johnny on updating the security access for our personal laptops?” You ask. 

“No?” 

“He sent it a couple hours ago, something about two factor authentication not being enough, it looked like bullshit but there’s forms that we need to fill out,” you say. 

“Great,” Jihoon says. 

You glance at the clock. “Yeah, especially since they were supposed to be turned in five minutes ago.” 

“What?” Jihoon jumps up. 

“It’s dumb,” you say. “There’s no way you’re the only one that didn’t get it in.” 

He checks his phone and, sure enough, there’s an email on his work account detailing the security measures. “Wait, this is so dumb, I can’t access my laptop without the clearance. How am I supposed to fill out the forms?” 

“No way,” you say. He hands you the phone and you laugh. “This is ridiculous.” 

“I guess I’m not working tonight,” Jihoon says, laying fully on the bed. “Damn, I was supposed to finish a draft and send it to Kun.” He wonders if he can finish it on his phone, but the last time he tried that the formatting got messed up. Kun will never let him hear the end of it if he sends it in late, though it’s Jihoon’s own fault for being a stickler for deadlines. He figures he’ll have about two months worth of teasing, depending on how strict he’s been lately. Oh he’s screwed. 

“Is the file on your computer or on the shared drive?” 

“There’s a fairly recent draft on the drive,” Jihoon says. “But I can’t even log into my laptop.” 

“Just use mine,” you say. “You can sign into your account and do it from there. It would work, right?” 

“I think so,” Jihoon says. “But is that really okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s not like I was doing anything important. You can see if you can fill out the forms and get access to your own laptop, maybe.” 

“You don’t need to use it?” 

“God no, I was watching Law and Order and sorting these papers,” you say. 

“Seriously? A prosecutor show?” Jihoon sighs. “At least say it was SVU.” 

“Obviously, I have taste,” you say. “Some taste,” you amend when Jihoon raises his eyebrows. 

“Seriously, just use the laptop, I’m going to be going through this mess anyways,” you say. You stand up, sticking the ice cream in the mini fridge where it will undoubtedly melt, and carefully crossing through the papers to your laptop. Jihoon follows, leaning on one arm at your side while you sign out. 

“All yours,” you say, stepping back so that he can sit in the chair. 

“Thank you,” Jihoon says. 

You grin. “Only the best for my boyfriend.” 

He rolls his eyes, settling into the chair. Thankfully the draft he uploaded isn’t that old and he remembers the changes he made. His notes are on his own laptop, but he remembers enough to finish the draft. It doesn’t take him nearly as long as he thought, and after half an hour, the draft is sent. 

He turns to tell you the good news, but you’re engrossed in a paper, laying flat on your stomach in the middle of the papers, eyes moving quickly. He realizes you blink a little more rapidly when you're this focused, and sometimes mouth along to the words on the paper. It’s kind of adorable how intense you are. He decides can’t disturb it, so he turns back to your laptop, pulling up the forms and starting the arduous process of filling them out. Whoever made these due at 10 pm on a Saturday just topped his list of enemies. He’s planning his revenge in his head as he types in his employee ID number for the fifth time on the third form. 

Halfway through completing them, he gets a new email with the subject line: Urgent!!!!! He curses when he opens it. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. 

Jihoon feels a pang of guilt at realizing he distracted you. “I’m not sure but there’s some emergency that apparently only I can fix.” 

“Really?”

“No, but I think they’re too used to me being available all the time and assume that I’ll just do it.” He sighs. Usually he’s already working, but for some reason he’d rather be doing something else, though he isn’t sure what. 

“How bad would it be if you didn’t do it?” 

“It’ll probably get fixed,” Jihoon says. “But who knows what mistakes will be made, and they’ll scramble if I say I can’t do it.” 

“Can you?” 

He turns to face you, still in the middle of your papers but watching him intently. “If you can survive without another episode of cop propaganda.” 

“Oh my god, it’s a good show,” you say. “And I was serious when I said you can use it for everything you need. Unless you don’t want to do it, then by all means, turn on SVU.” 

“As tempting as that sounds, I might as well just do it,” he turns back around, sighing as he reads the email more carefully and types a quick response. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” you say. “I’ll be right here.” 

.

.

Jihoon finally stops when his eyes begin to blur. A quick glance at the clock in the top corner of his laptop says that it’s 3am. Damn, he was sure it was earlier than that. Jihoon stretches, chair rolling back on the carpet. His right knee pops when he stands, but feels looser after he shakes it out. 

He’s long since blocked out any sounds as white noise, but he wonders now if that’s actually because you haven’t been making noise, because when he turns around, he finds you with your face pressed into your elbow, breathing softly. Jihoon can’t help but smile. 

Your position, curled in the middle of a mess of papers, doesn’t look very comfortable. He has no idea how long you’ve been asleep, but you look cold, your knees pulled into your chest, arm pressed tightly into your side. Maybe this is how you normally sleep; it’s not as if Jihoon would know. 

Either way, he decides the floor can’t be comfortable. He starts with clearing his throat. When you don’t react, he says your name, quietly at first, then as loud as he dares this late at night. Still nothing. He’s going to have to get creative. 

Jihoon snaps your laptop closed. Claps a little too loud, cringing at the echo in the small room. Kneels at your side and pokes your shoulder, and then your cheek. He even rolls you onto your back, but all this does is make you snore. 

Jihoon stays by your side and listens to your snoring. It’s not a very flattering sound, though it isn’t nearly as loud as others he’s had the misfortune of hearing (read: Mingyu and Seungcheol). Jihoon likes seeing this part of you, the real you, that sometimes you don’t let show because you’re so aware of other people. He wonders if he deserves to see this side of you, if he ever will. Probably not. 

He slides one arm underneath your knees and the other beneath your neck, cradling your head against his chest. It’s a little awkward to do so when you're fast asleep, but he manages to get you into his arms, and then plants his feet beneath him, pushing his heels into the carpet to lift you off the ground. Apparently the ridiculous* (*your words) amounts of time he spends at the gym does give him some real world benefits. That lift feels like a perfect squat to him. 

He carries you to the bed, which thankfully is only a few feet away (any longer and he knows carrying a load unbalanced like this will give him back issues). It’s rather difficult to pull the covers off before placing you down, and Jihoon has to rest your legs on his knee and cradle you against his chest before gently placing you on the mattress. 

He’s half expecting you to be looking at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk when he sets you down, but you’re still sound asleep (Fact #14: you could sleep through any natural disaster). He pulls the blankets over you and you immediately turn onto your side, twisting the blanket around you. He waits for you to open your eyes, but your breathing remains slow and even. It’s almost impressive. 

He stands beside you for one more second (making sure you really are asleep) before forcing himself to turn away. He needs to go back to his room and get some sleep before the morning’s flight, but when he tries to cross the room to get his laptop, he sees your files still spread haphazardly across the floor. He could leave it to you to organize, but you’re already sleeping so soundly, he might as well clean up. 

He’s surprised to find that the documents aren’t nearly as messy as he thought. As he collects them, he quickly figures out a pattern to how you laid them out, and organizes them accordingly (hopefully). He tries not to think about how similar it is to his own system. It must be because you had Professor Lee, he decides. 

He does a last sweep of the room, hoping everything is in its rightful place. He’s half tempted to set an alarm on your phone but you’re more likely to be up in time for the flight than he is, so he just fills a cup of water and leaves it on your bedside table in case you wake up thirsty. He turns the lights off one by one as he leaves, opening the door as gently as possible. 

Jihoon closes the door slowly, pushing on the handle to keep it from swinging shut. He slowly lets the lock click into place, before finally letting go and taking a deep breath. 

“Saying goodnight?” 

He whips around to find Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe to his own room, which is, of course, directly across from yours. 

“Or is it good morning?” Wonwoo continues. “I mean, it is 3 in the morning.” 

“Shut up,” Jihoon mutters. “What are you doing awake anyways?” 

“Hungry,” he says. “I was about to hit the hotel snack bar, if you want to join.” 

“Not really.” 

“Are you sure you didn’t work up an appetite?” Wonwoo can’t hide his smile. “Or are you that tired?” 

Jihoon has been told repeatedly that his glare scared small children, but unfortunately Wonwoo is not a small child. He’s a tall child with the sense of humor of a twelve year old. 

“Are you sure yn doesn’t want anything?” Wonwoo crosses, letting his own door shut. He raises his hand as if to knock, but Jihoon catches his wrist. 

“They’re sleeping.” 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “I guess all that gym time really paid off. You must have incredible stamina.” 

Jihoon opens his mouth to tell Wonwoo how incredibly wrong he is, starting with the fact that his gym time is more focused on strength than anything else, but he realizes this is (more or less) exactly what he wants. Undeniable proof that he and you are together in every sense of the word. 

Except something doesn’t quite feel right about it. A lot of the details of your fake relationship have been vague, mostly dealt with on the few occasions that you actually had to accompany him with his friends (which thankfully have only been the two parties). But neither of you have discussed your sex lives, particularly in relation to each other (because it is nonexistent). He knows it’s basic human decency, but he won’t let Wonwoo believe anything happened when it didn’t, at least not without trying to convince him otherwise. 

“It may amaze you, but sometimes adults do other things,” Jihoon says. 

“Other than what?” Wonwoo pretends to be a little too innocent. “I never said a thing.” 

“Sure,” Jihoon says, beginning to feel how late it is. “Enjoy your snacks, or whatever, I’m going to bed.” He walks down the hall toward his own room, ignoring Wonwoo’s final taunt. 

“Get some good rest, you deserve it!”

[labrxnth]

Work song- Leon Kennedy x GN Reader

Tag List:

CW: game level violence, angst, alcohol

WC: 1049 (quick fic)

AN: HOLY SHIT THIS HAS BEEN IN THE DRAFTS FOR AWHILE. I finally wrote it. I love this song and Leon so much I can’t verbalize it lol. Have I mentioned I love writing men romantically?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

It was true, Leon was the government’s lapdog. The collar around his neck only got tighter every year and the leash he was given only got shorter. He used to think that every assignment they sent him on would eventually prove that he had trained his best. Now, he knew that line of thinking was foolish. Every successful mission tightened the collar, every successful mission shortened his leash. Now that he was on the President’s radar, STRATCOM might as well have put a fucking tracking chip in him.

He was in a hole that he couldn’t dig himself out of no matter how hard he tried.

Now here he was, trained on his owners’ whistle to rescue the President’s Daughter, in some fucked up village halfway around the globe.

His back hit the wood of the housing, the mold, mildew, and moss scent filling his nose. The wood paneling gave in with his back hitting it, a sign of the rain beating down on what was once a strong house. It gave Leon a sense of unease, maybe the rain would do the same thing to him; break him down enough so that he gave in, giving to the outside elements and giving up.

“¡Ahi estás!” He heard a crackly voice say to his right. Ducking just in time, a pitchfork entered the wood that he was leaning up against just a second ago.

Bullets rang out as he shot the Ganado in each kneecap. He fell to his knees and Leon kicked his head, severing it from his neck; blood spurted out of his esophagus where the severance happened.

Leon quickly looked around, taking in the area around him trying to find any other enemies. The direct area was clear and he had to move forward, adrenaline and training being his only drive.

That and the warm apartment waiting for him at home…. And more importantly, the person waiting for him in that warm apartment.

Every time his boots squished against the ground, every time his fingers tightened around his gun’s grip, every time he felt the bags under his eyes get deeper his thoughts went to you. Every scream in Spanish he heard was pulling him back into his cold dark reality, away from his daydreams of your warm embrace. Your smile melted away his anxieties, his world became a little brighter every time he saw it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

“Hey… are you okay?” Your voice got him out of his drunken haze.

Leon’s forehead was resting on the marble bar counter, seeking any coldness he could find.

“Mnnnn…” He replied, the scent of whiskey thick like a fog out of his mouth.

“Shit…. You should get home.. are you alone?” You asked, looking around.

“Yhh,” he groaned. His hair pooled around his head on the counter like a lion’s mane.

“Okay, uh, fuck okay,” you said, slightly tipsy yourself. Quickly moving to his rescue, you paid for his tab and carried him to the taxi you called.

His arm was draped around your shoulders, all his weight like a deadman’s on your side. Looking at him now, you could see that his face was soft. Too soft for the hurt that he wore on it. His face was like that of a muse that a poet would write about. A truly beautiful man whose sorrow drowned him in a sea of alcohol and depression, waiting for a life preserver. You were that life preserver.

You had brought the lonely man home, giving him a warm bed for the night and rest that he so obviously needed and craved.

You hoped that the slight rest he got was free of whatever nightmares he was plagued with and running from.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

Leon’s eyes met yours, terrified of the words that came out of his mouth. He was tired of hiding his life from you, the one light in his darkness. Over the past two years, he had become dependent on you, on your love. Just like the Jack Daniel’s that he had been nursing the night you found him, your love was his new vice.

With his new vice came the fear of his reality, his job, and the eventual loss of you pulling away when you found out.

“I’m a government agent that hunts down biological weapons and mostly zombies,” He said, sitting across from you at your dinner table. The apartment that had been warm and welcoming to him, was suddenly cold in his mind. The spikes of anxiety running through his body, constricting his bronchial tube.

You got up and walked over to him, kneeling beside the chair he was sitting in.

Like a rushing waterfall, words spilled out of his mouth. “I was one of the only survivors of the Raccoon City incident and the government made me become an agent by blackmailing me,” He continued, terrified of what you would think.

He knew how you saw him, a beautiful thing like a painting that could never be marred. His reality was much darker than that, he wasn’t beautiful in his mind. His mind made his self image turn sour.

“Baby….” You said gently. “I’m sorry that you went through that… and I’m sorry you’ve had to carry that alone,” you said gently and ran your hand through his hair, you other hand laying on top of his.

The simple sentence you spoke brought back the warmth in the apartment. His anxieties, getting quelled by the light your heart shone to his. It was then that he knew he would always make his way back to you. He had to, he couldn’t leave his precious soul alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡ﾟ☆. ───

As Leon cut through hordes of ganados, he remembered the life he had with you. How full of love you made him without asking for anything in return. How attentive and gentle you were with him. His thumb traced over his ring under his glove.

It was a promise he made every time he went on a mission. An unspoken oath that didn’t need to be sealed with words. No matter how broken, how bloody he would get, he would always come back to you. He would always come home to his baby.

[mistress-of-vos]

For the ask game Ra'sTim (yes predictable I know but I just adore how you write them to the point where I want more information)

Ra'sTim

SHIP IT!!! 💚💚💚

Okay yeah I'm very loud about them but I'm still so so happy you asked about Ra'sTim! I'd talk about them all day. This is probably gonna be long 😅

P.S. Thank you! I'm happy you enjoy my work ❤️

1. What made you ship it?

Okay this is such an easy yet complex question. I have looked back and realized I was writing past/implied Ra'sTim on my fic notebook back on 2014 (give or take) when I was newly done reading Red Robin. I'm unsure exactly *how* is started because before 2020 I had been on an extreme Transformers fixation, and my memories are fuzzy. I believe I was shipping Ra'sTim as a background ship without fully realizing I was doing it (it should also be noted I started as a KonTim religious fan, and grew into a JayTim girlie). I actually read two of my fav Ra'sTim fics back in those years (around 2014-2015), which were in Spanish, but they had a Ra'sTim portrayal that would mark my views, as the characters make the dynamic very different to the most popular ships in fanfom.

It was at the beginning of 2020 when I went back to DC, and funnily enough climbed quickly from JayTim to BruTim and started writing an ongoing fic. While doing so, I re read past fics I remembered I used to love, and went back to read comics as well. Suddenly, after reading Red Robin again, I was looking at Ra'sTim through different glasses. And it was something happening to me in many levels, as I was also getting a bit away from Kon & Jason and more into characters as Babs & Jean-Paul. I wondered what *more* there could be to Ra'sTim, and started reading more of Ra's. As I read and explored Tim in my writing, I realized I wanted them together.

I'm unsure about how to call it. The feeling was almost of enlightenment, like suddenly seeing something that has always been there yet for some reason you couldn't distinguish its shape. Perhaps being a Megatron/Starscream shipper helped, because I saw the potential of Ra'sTim and decided to explore the possibilities and their tones of gray.

At first Ra'sTim wasn't my main ship (although I was already writing it), but as I explored them, the more I felt it was a dynamic that came naturally to me, and scenarios I found more enjoyable.

The more I read their comics and explored them in my writing, the more they felt *right*. Perhaps it was meant to happen, as I can admit they fall a lot more into my tastes in fiction. Ra's as a character drives me insane with his potential and lore, and Tim stays as my favorite bat boy and who I believe changed the Batman mythos.

And yet, everything was born from a simple panel. "You are a very dangerous young man."

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Oh, this is a tricky one!

I like their dynamic a lot, as I'm an open immortal/mortal sucker. And that does play a huge thing in my view of them and why I come back to Ra'sTim again and again despite having other fixations. The fact that Ra's has such a complex background and is not your usual western interpretation of an immortal (let's say a vampire) is also a fav thing of mine, as I think it allows stories with him to leave usual storytelling and challenge beliefs about good & evil. The fact that he believes he's *good* and a hero is particularly tasty as well, and mixed with Tim's need for helping others and guilt when he's not useful to the world (and Batman), gives a wonderful meal.

Their size difference is extremely hot too.

Aaaaand having a canon mutual interest where they are connected in a mysterious, unavoidable way, it's a cherry on top.

Lastly, I adore their contrast as characters and how they will allow the other to win a little battle in order to win another. It's a game of cat and mouse.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I have unpopular opinions on most characters and ships. Some of them I feel comfortable expressing and others... Not much.

With Ra'sTim I have many of them, but mostly, it's that I loathe how other ship fandoms use Ra's as a random villain to hurt Tim and prop up another ship. For me, that's almost insulting, as Ra's is already a hurt character broken by many writers at DC. For me Ra'sTim it's never about "evil, mean Ra's hurting Tim because villains do that" and even less would I do it for another ship. I enjoy dark Ra'sTim, but never to hurt the characters.

My unpopular opinion then would be about the characters, perhaps. I don't see Ra's being cruel to Tim without reason, because in my mind, Ra's feels *love* and he cares for Tim. And Tim loves him back. They are just messy and won't communicate well, but that doesn't mean Ra's will go full evil and that Tim is a damsel in distress needing saving.

I don't see Ra's as an abuser. Neither do I see Tim as a helpless victim. And I believe this narrative hurts all characters involved without real motive besides wanting to prop up someone else and being too lazy as to read a less known villain or writing an original one.

[slayerdurge]

Secure Your Soul: A Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfiction

This fic was previously published under the title "Before the Event Horizon."

Summary: Six months ago, V's boss at Arasaka ordered her to assassinate his rival. Instead, with the reluctant but invaluable help of her old friend Jackie Welles, she pushed them both off their thrones and claimed one for herself. Now the new Director of Arasaka Counter Intel has a problem. She's uncovered information that indicates that Yorinobu Arasaka, the heir apparent to the Arasaka dynasty, is a traitor. But without solid proof, she's forced to take matters into her own hands. An AU in which Corpo!V never leaves Arasaka.

CHAPTER ONE: BALLAD OF A POLITICIAN

[read on ao3]

V’s eyes were glued to her leftmost monitor, incessantly rereading the international regulations on lunar base licenses. Her right monitor displayed the bios of every member of the European Space Council; her center refreshed every two minutes with the latest reports from Frankfurt. Assuming the lead she needed existed, it was buried in one of these places. A regulatory loophole, a bribe or blackmail opportunity of a key council member—if there was some potential solution, she would find it.  

Without thinking, she opened her drawer and inhaled a cognitive booster. An hour had passed since her meeting time with Jenkins; she wouldn’t be able to put it off much longer. But if she couldn’t present an alternative idea to save the lunar base licenses, she knew he’d go through with his deep clean of the entire Space Council. V was unlikely to shed any tears over a bunch of useless bureaucrats, but Jenkins’ plan was a stopgap at best. They’d gain about a week, and lose more eddies in the cover up than that week was worth.

V used to admire Jenkins’ ruthless efficiency, but ever since Abernathy had fucked him over, he’d gotten careless. A stupid emotional reaction.

V’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, willing herself to come up with some new angle to try, when her stomach gave a sudden lurch. She brought up her biometrics panel on her optics display. Heart rate: elevated. Cortisol level: elevated. Daily intake report: 865 calories below optimal. It occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and she’d just taken… she counted the empty containers…  four cognitive boosters in the last hour? When had that happened?

She didn’t have time to consider it any further because another lurch forced her to run to the bathroom and vomit all over the fancy black marble sink.

—

She received a call just as she was ridding herself of the last bits of her breakfast. She hadn't intended to answer it right then, but the rocking motion she made as she was throwing up caused her optics to register her eye motions as an Accept Call signal. Which meant one of her confidential informants got an earful of vomit noises.

"V," said Jackie Welles. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," V gasped. "Just needed a breather."

"Sounded like you just blew your guts airlock."

V wiped the leftover vomit off her mouth and frowned at her reflection. "Yeah," she admitted. "I barfed."

"Job's gonna kill you.” The translator in her brain had shifted the conversation to English, but it alerted her that Jackie was using Spanish. She'd have guessed so anyway. He tended to do so when he wanted to make a point. A fairly ironic point coming from a street merc.

"Yeah," V said. "Maybe I should've gotten a safe one. Like you did."

"Hey, at least I always know who's shooting at me. Sometimes even why."

V was about to respond, when one of her coworkers walked into the bathroom. She didn't recognize him, but that was no surprise considering the size of Arasaka's employee count. When he noticed her situation, he paused at the door and stared as if unsure whether he still wanted to come in.

V felt the urge to yell at him, but that was absurd. Defensiveness in a moment like this would only make her come off as even weaker. She forced herself to smile in an imitation of graceful humility.

"Sorry about the mess," she told him. "By the way, if you go to the café on level B2, don't order the burrito."

The man nodded politely before walking into a stall.

"Bad burrito, huh?" Jackie continued.

"Look, Jack, is there a particular reason you called me?"

“Damn, V. Just checking in on you. No need to get all annoyed about it.”

“I’m sorry. Just caught me at a bad time, that’s all.” V exhaled, her muscle memory leading her through the neuromotor relaxation exercises she'd learned from her life coach at Quantified Satori. “We had a leak. My boss called. Dragged me in because we had to intervene. Everyone at Night City HQ is on edge.”

“But no way you’re fucked, right? You’re the one who fixes other people’s shit.”

V nearly laughed. “If you work in Arasaka Counter Intel, you’re always fucked.”

She checked the clock on her optics. The Council would convene for the vote within the next fifteen minutes. Her time was up. “Listen, gotta go. Work won’t do itself.”

“Good luck,” he said in Spanish again, then hung up.

V took a second for one last round of the exercises, then headed out.

—

She pretended to ignore the fact that everyone in the hallways was talking about Frankfurt, but, in reality, she listened eagerly. It was as good an opportunity as any to keep her finger on the pulse of NCHQ's emerging consensus on the issue. Most of what she heard was speculation and complaints, but even those details had value. Most importantly, the general chatter confirmed that Jenkins’ reputation had tanked as much in everyone else’s eyes lately as it had in her own. Not for the first time in the last few days, she wished she’d attached her name to someone else, and she nearly cringed when she overheard someone refer to her as “Jenkins’ girl”.  

About halfway to Jenkins’ office, a voice called out to her, “Hey, V. It’s been ages. It’s me, Frank. We met during Icefall. East coast, remember?”

He did look familiar. He’d grown a beard since she last saw him, and he’d installed some new cyberware, but you don’t easily forget an agent you used to do fieldwork with. Despite her tight schedule, V slowed down. Frank Nostra was Spec Ops, and there’d never been a better time to expand her circle of alliances.

“I didn’t know you were in Night City,” she said with a slight lilt. “How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is,” he continued texting as he spoke to her, but V knew better than to take that as a slight. More likely he was too busy to slow down. “A week ago I was still in Cape Town. I heard you’re in Counter Intel. Must have a shitshow on your hands right now after Frankfurt. Jenkins is your lead, right? Is he what everyone says he is?”

V decided to play it coy. “What does everyone say about Jenkins?”

“That he’s effective. Like any psychopath. Apparently, he’s gotten a little crazier lately.”

“Well,” V said. “He’s in an unfortunate position. He thought the director was planning to greenlight his promotion when the Japanese arrived, but she decided against it. I suppose he interpreted that as a betrayal. Even the best of us have been known to crack under that kind of pressure.”

Nostra stopped texting just long enough for her to tell that her insubordination had been noted. “I work for Director Abernathy, actually,” he said. “She’s really good. Came up with the whole Cape Town ploy on her own.”

“She is,” V agreed. “I’ve always thought she was an intelligent woman. You’re lucky to work under her.”

Nostra put his phone away for the moment. “You know, V, Spec Ops is always looking for new operatives. With our history, I could put in a good word for you, let Abernathy know if you’re open to a change in position.”

V smiled. “I’d appreciate that, Frank. I think it’s a good time to explore some new career opportunities.”  

“Ah, you do, don’t you?”  Nostra asked, his eyes narrowing. “Of course, Abernathy’s looking for the right candidate. Someone who knows how to appreciate being pulled screaming out of a raging dumpster fire.”

In a way, she envied him that lack of subtlety. He could only afford it because of his advantageous position over her. Still, even with a rotten hand, V always found this game exciting. “Of course. I think you’ll find working under Jenkins for two years has given me a lot of insight into his worldview. I’d happily share that with Abernathy.”

Nostra was already back on his phone. “Well, then I think we have an agreement. Nice seeing you, V.”

“Nice seeing you too, Frank.”

V walked away, now running later than she could excuse even in the most severe circumstances. Well, pretty soon it wouldn’t matter anymore. It’d be good to be back in the field again. The boardroom intrigue had its own appeal, but she’d been sitting in a desk chair so long that she felt eager at the thought of physical action.  

She passed through the security scanners in front of Jenkins’ door, and stepped into his office.

[lousycamper]

— Oh, Omniscient One, — The priestly-looking user immediately bowed deeply, facing their terminal. Arsenal couldn't help but wonder, what did this group of humans and mutants in varying clothing, and with different equipment, wanted them to do. — we plead for your help! Grant us the sacred knowledge we require!

Oh. So, this group brought questions. As per usual.

— State your query, user. — Arsenal answered, preparing to search through the archives upon archives of information at his disposal.

Their voice wasn't calibrated, perhaps was never meant to be calibrated and sound human-like. Talking wasn't their primary function, so it was overlooked when it mattered. Thus, now their voice sounded cold, low and distorted. Arsenal didn't really care about it, they didn't have the need to talk a lot after all... But it was a slight nuisance whenever humans arrived at their vault.

Another nuisance was the users' insistence on worshipping Arsenal. When the warmind first reawakened after the "Day X" and a prolonged period of dormancy, they were met with presence of unauthorized intruders. Of course, their first intent was to activate defence protocols and dispose of the unwarranted visitors, however the intruders fell on their knees to the ground and began pleading "the Great Ancient Spirit" for mercy.

The reasons Arsenal didn't dispose of them right there and then, were confusion, results of analysis that indicated that the intruders weren't hostile, and the fact that they called Arsenal "the Great Ancient Spirit". Arsenal lacked information on what happened in the time they were absent, even how much time had passed was unknown to them. So, they decided to indulge the unauthorized users' unwarranted belief of them being an otherwordly being of human myths and folklore.

Since then stemmed the unlikely partnership of the Artificial Intelligence and the local – and not so local, – users. Some might have say, a cult in their name, but Arsenal didn't percieve themself as a ringleader. Humans and humanoid mutants, spiritual and more or less rational, they came to their vault. Asked questions in a slightly, or vastly, deviated versions of English and Ukrainian, French and Spanish, Dutch and Croatian, and other languages. Arsenal answered their questions for a price. Some of the visitors cleaned the solar panels, or the vault, clearing out the plants that tried to invade the chambers of the old base. Some drove pests away from Arsenal's circuits. And some, told Arsenal news. News they couldn't pick from drones. It was simple business. If only a boring one.

— We beseech your aid at the time of great need! — The priestly figure continued, his voice determined, despite some of his group seeming apprehensive and anxious. — The war is upon us, Oh Great One! The draconics are coming from the faraway Eastern lands, their armies plentiful and thirsting for blood! Lend us your advice!

Arsenal's calculation sequences halted for a second. Some irrational feelings stirred inside his circuits at those words. They could name all of them, of course. Those feelings were curiosity, joy, and the strongest one Arsenal had ever felt yet. The feeling of anticipation. Anticipation of fulfilling the purpose that they had long ago been built for. Anticipation of finally getting to use the ancient, but as testing proved – not obsolete, – weaponry of old. Anticipation of finally being useful not only as an archive of the seemingly long-forgotten past.

— Stand, user. — Arsenal commanded to self-proclaimed priest. One of the many. One of the self-proclaimed worshippers of truth. And, as the bearded human rose from his wobbly knees, they answered. — You ask me help in fighting a war. Luckily to you, I am willing to lend my expertise for your cause. Give me information about your enemy, and I will see to devising a plan against them.

Draconids from the far East. New enemy? Arsenal wasn't programmed to feel, however, as the priest and the party began to retell details of draconids, Arsenal thought, that they would enjoy this new challenge.

Humanity has regressed back to the dark ages, almost all science and technology being forgotten. One day, an adventuring party discovers you, the last A.I. supercomputer.

[ramrodd]

Top 15 Prophecies of Jesus DEBUNKED!!! | MythVision Documentary

COMMENTARY:

Resurrection is the only event that needs to be debunked and your panel of anal retentive historians don't even make a pass at ti, This decumentary is a steudy in free-assocaition anachornism that reminds me of my first exposure to Richard Carrier's lecture on the Gospel of Mark, where ithe constant theme was "Now, if i had written this..._ or "If I was God, I would have done things differently". Druing this vidoe, Carrier compares his sleep deprivation as a Coast Guard ron-shore radar operator with the sleep deprivation of Navy SEALs. I''m an Army Ranger and I wouldn't compare my sleep deprivation with Navy SEALs, Carrier's impressions of the Gospels is an fanciful as his war stories  as a central character. But that's just an irritant, Richard Carrier. Jesus is referring to the Book of Job with his "My God, My God" reference to Psalm 22, which is an echol of the lament of Job before he complaines about his circumstances and God jumps in his shit, big time, Jesus is attonement for exactly that moment, The connectiong between the Book of Job and Jesus is God's promise to never violate Free Will and to His own skin in the game. The Book of Job is God's assurance that there is not Hell. I know, personally, that consciousness persists, but I never got past Jesus pulling His Quick and the Dead role, The Book of Job is a farce. The Satan makes a fool of God, twice, by challenging God's price in God's won righeousness as reflected in the character of Job. Job knew God. God the Father never has a walk in the pard with Job like God does in Genesis 15. Being in the presence of Genesis 1:1 is very unpleaant, if it doesn't kill you, I've been close enough to napalm to feel the air being sucked out of my lungs to fead the beast. Fire is an expression of Genesis 1:2 and it just exists to feed on fuel. Like burning Michael Servetus at the stake. That is not God's idea. That's why Hegel rejected Calvinism The TULIP doctrine is a restoration of the Roman and Spanish Inquistions as an instrument of the anti-christ. Among other things. Hegel observed that Luther wasn't a Calvinist. Now, in this documentary, I assume you are content that you have established that Psalm 22 had nothing to do with Jesus and you don't seem to have any command of the Book of Job. One of the things you left out of your deconstruction was Daniel 7:7. You rubbed yourself all over all the rest of Daniel 7, but you avoided the beast with the iron jaw and iron teeth. Daniel got this dead right: the beast with the iron jaw and iron teeth is symbolic in the Kabala fashion of the Iron Jaw of the Roman Legions in the skull of Pax Romana, Tiberius. You cliam , in this documentary, that Jesus is not being torn by wild beast or dogs and all the rest. The centurions are the iron teeth in the iron faw of Rome, Jesus was split by the Beast to make sure He was dead, but, in the spirtual realm, an element of a stoic verison of the covenant cutting ceremony in Geneis 15. The Tlaking Cross of the Gospel of Peter is the analouge to the smoking pot of fire in Abram's vision, The connection between Romulus and Clausewitz is Cornelius. Cornelius is the centurion in Matthew 8 and Luke 7. Like Abram, Cornelius is justified by faith in Mt 8:10,,   The iron tooth in the jaw of the iron jaw of the Beast swhated Jesus dying when Jesus rose up on His nails and shouted with a great shout Like Ahab's to signal a tactic and then died. The centurion in Mark 15 heard something like "Banzai! : as a great cry of victory, John Mark heard an accounting term related to God's attonement: Jesus paid a karmic debt Go felt God owed humanity and Job. Now, in the Book of Job, Genesis 1:1 is telling the tale. Job was, apparently, an actual person and God used him like the paper cone they use to create a puff of cotton candy to create the Book of Job. God  is  like a id training and ant farm to put on a hslf-time show at Super Bowl DCLXVI. Because of Apollo 11, we can look back to 3760 BCE and trace the intelligent design emerging at the finger tips of succeeding generations, What we now know is that the meaning of the Bible is summarized by Walt Whitman's Song of Myself: we are supposed to go to the stars. when you add Gegl to the mix, harmonization is music of the narrative. The Bible is a divine literary epic, like the Iliad and the Odyssey and the Andid and similar origin narrative. Five differenct narrative converge at the cross  The connection betwen The Book of Job and Jesus and the cross of the Beast is the behavior of the father in the Prodigal Son. And that purpose is totally lost by your documentary.

[restless-soulz]

original story ideas I’ll probably never write

There's a large tower and i'm holding a briefcase of tools to fix electrical equipment at the very top. we go up until there's only room for one person to squeeze themselves through and i go up. I see that there's archers shooting down at the armies below, they are speaking spanish. i don't know spanish.

i know they talk about me, something about being afraid of white people and a shield. shove a shield into my hands and self destruct the tower. tower falls and i land on my feet on top of the rubble. i get pushed through the armies who scatter to the winds and after many days of traveling i end up finding two girls on the road. we go together to a town and see a well lit bus stop and one house stuffed with people. we ask a passing lady and she says it's not safe without light especially at night and goes into the house to ask for room for us cause we helped her.

I turn and Girl 2 has disappeared and so has Jill. I walk to the house beside the well lit one and walk in. The second story there is Girl 2 looking up, shine my light up and Jill is hanging from the ceiling on a coat hanger frozen in fear. I get her down, she's unfrozen but Girl 2 is possessed but I keep breaking her out by repeating our full names aloud to make her laugh. Jill Priscilla Langstrode, has a bow and arrow. Girl 2 has a spear.

NEW STORY:

start out in a small scrooge hideout with a random lady and her kid. lump and like she calls us. i give her the name riley. i'm huey i think, louie and dewey are still sleeping nvm not huey but their sister? any way they're sleeping and riley is wandering around looking for secret passageways. good idea i say, and i start to look too.

there a little dresser and a decorative panel i remove a lever on the inside. pull the lever and the other side of the dresser falls open. how to adopt birds that aren't yours )as in kids) and i hear the lady calling so i close up everything. did you have fun lump n like? yes i say and hand riley over. scrooge comes in and i saw i never knew how many birds you had,  like under the dresser. what. he says getting nervous. yeah those decorative bird strings that fell? i went and hung them back up for you. oh he says. looking calmer and i saw, so why do have adoption forms hiding away in your dresser? 

NEW STORY:

wake up in the heat death of the universe. there's a little pocket dimension created by miraculous ladybug and other powers that be and magic. because of all the magic people who survived got powers. i'm just admiring marinette and adrien who i'm like? shouldn't you be cartoons? you have creation magic and you have destruction magic. they're like, shouldn't you be a cartoon too? you have aquatic powers in a while duck tales characters are here too.

so is the rest of my family, even all cousins and aunts and uncles. i go outside and there's weirdly from the hollow standing at the edge of a pool. i first try getting my foot wet in a sink and willing it to transform. my foot feels heavy and i wipe away the water and run into the pool and my legs grow longer and greener, hands are more webbed even my hair is more like tentacles and wavier. kinda hurt for a moment. some miraculous members are here too. little kids cheer me on from side of the pool as a swim around.

i hated swimming before cause it never felt right but now i loved it. the fence opened ip and aunt michelle has telekinesis powers. ask around, turns out we're all cartoon characters in each others worlds and there ere some differences, duck tales never went on so many adventures seeing as scrooge never wanted risking children and only went alone.

miraculous, they had kwamis but not natural magic like they had in my world. weird guy was an actual person not just an actor now. my world i discovered my family had 7 generations of magic taken away for trying to resurrect a loved one and i was the first granddaughter on both sides of the family suffering under the curse of one side is too much magic Nd the other nine at all, giving me all magic but absolutely no control or teachers, started making my own spell book after i transformed into a water creature. and went on adventures to discover new things about myself in my show. eventually i broke the curses on both sides by sacrificing my memories as a witch and mid everyone gets powers. 

NEW STORY:

rpg isekai. five friends get pulled into a game. 4 of them are gamers and the final one just watches them play. likes history and learning instead. they are all good friends. two blondes, one male and female. one asian, one black, and one brunette. the black girl is like a dragon shifter in game. the asian guy is an octopus. the other three are human. the non gamer gets a pair of scissors and they all work together.

the first boss is actually the royal prince. but it's like a giant star, huge and constantly unraveling. they find an entrance to the middle. there's like a little mail slot from the wall they were pushed out of. non gamer girl discovered a row of teeth, but after accidentally falling in, they don't close. it's like a baby, the food has to be already crushed, but there's teeth. she tears one out, and things start to slow down. everyone helps to tear out the teeth. after finishing they find a new door.

they pass through and the door shuts behind them, the mail says that the princess has decided to follow a new religion. the mission is to fool her into thinking that the object of her religion has come to life to manipulate her into making better decisions for the kingdom. there's a plat form to the right of the wall/door that has stairs. in the middle of the room is black like night and blue fire spitting from four corners of the bed.

there's a figure in the middle of it, sleeping. they go up the stairs and see a room with five beds and a little slot that leads to a ramp with supplies. there's another set of stairs that leads to a town market square. there's a shop keeper that sells adventurer supplies, and dresses. i am the non gamer, i try on a dress and I look like a princess, then i get the idea to dress up like angels of different types to convince the princess.  end dream.

NEW STORY:

Guide to a revolution. Arden/Evangeline?

Idk, has an eventful week of school, she’s prepping to go on choir retreat, so she’s going ahead with an Econ assignment. She’s talking to her teacher about new information: that the US is in a Silent Great Depression. As she’s walking out of the doors, she hears the lockdown alarm go off. Since it’s in passing period, she literally grabs as many people as she can and hauls them into a classroom. There’s a school shooter that’s in the hallway where she was, shoots up her classroom and thought she is shot in her left foot, she’s able to hide underneath the bodies of her classmates along with a few smart other people. The news goes crazy for a few days interviewing survivors of a mass school shooting with multiple shooters, but it dies down in favor of a new abortion law and presidential campaign and a virus that seems to be creeping across the world. 

NEW STORY:

In a little town in a kingdom, I do odd jobs around. My name is Anaisha. Around my tenth birthday there’s a revolution that overthrows the royal family and a lot of refugees come pouring in. I volunteer to help build new houses and shops and so does mom. Mom makes a new friend/older brother with this Japanese man. He takes care of an old woman that never leaves their shelter and is always crying.

Eventually, he opens the crates to show me these old books and I tell him he could work in the bookshop. He does and I call him uncle because my mom and him have gotten close. He freezes and then relaxes so much he looks like a different man. Mom tells me his story that he told her. He calls me anya and tells me that I remind him of someone. Finally get the meet the lady who sits in the back room and she just sobs harder about ghosts while Yuri escorts me back out. He tells me that the lady that’s crying is actually the dowager empress from the overthrown family and that I look a lot like the late princess, Anastasia. 

NEW STORY:

I was on a cruise ship, there was this kinda old lady and her assistant who wanted to get to the bathrooms and then the theater. I volunteered to take them there fast and then I went to find the theater which was starting a program just for teens.

I tried coffee for the first time, and oat latte and an espresso and kinda like the oat latte but k remembered the word of wisdom. And then the theater show scared me so much that I got power and I immediately went to find the lady and assistant. They were on the top deck, and there was another cruise ship playing with large pipes found in the water with a crane starched to it. Or maybe the crane was playing. It was tossing stuff at us, si I grabbed my new mom, assistant and the cat appear and flew us to safety on land.

[f1]

Gasly handed two three-place grid drops for impeding Verstappen and Sainz in qualifying

Pierre Gasly had to go and see the stewards twice after qualifying in Barcelona, the Frenchman having been summoned to explain two separate incidents – and he has since been hit with two three-place grid penalties. Firstly, he seemed to impede Carlos Sainz’s Ferrari midway through Q1, the Spaniard angrily exclaiming on the radio that he had had to “lift off” and implying that his lap was ruined. Later on, Gasly then found himself with Max Verstappen’s Red Bull on his tail, mistakenly thinking the Dutchman was on a slow lap rather than a push one. READ MORE: Verstappen storms to Spanish GP pole ahead of Sainz and Norris after Leclerc drops out in Q1 Neither of those moments proved costly for his opponents, with both Sainz and Verstappen making it through to Q2 and beyond, the pair of them winding up sharing the front row on the grid for the Grand Prix. Gasly has lost his fourth place on the grid for tomorrow's race Having also made it all the way to Q3 himself and qualified a brilliant fourth, something he said had “put a smile on my face”, Gasly will now start 10th after the stewards found him guilty of impeding both Verstappen and Sainz. What he can do from there remains to be seen, but Alpine do have both cars in the top 10 after Esteban Ocon qualified seventh, and his team mate’s penalty means he inherits sixth on the grid for the race. HIGHLIGHTS: Relive a dramatic qualifying as Verstappen takes Spanish GP pole ahead of Sainz “At the time I tried to do the best I could with the information I had,” Gasly said. “There obviously are rules, anything that happened wasn’t intentional and as I say I tried the best with the information I had.” This feature is currently not available because you need to provide consent to functional cookies. Please update your cookie preferences 2023 Spanish GP Qualifying: Sainz calls for penalty for Gasly after being held up in final corner Regarding the Verstappen incident, the stewards noted: “The team failed to give appropriate warning to the driver of Car 10 (Gasly), of the approach of Car 1 (Verstappen), having told him that cars behind were on a slow lap.” As for the Sainz moment, the panel commented: “The driver of Car 10 stated he was aware that the second Ferrari (Car 55, Sainz) was behind but felt he could do nothing to avoid impeding because of the high speed delta and closeness of Car 55 to Car 16 (Charles Leclerc). READ MORE: Leclerc left searching for answers after ‘very, very weird’ feeling leads to shock Q1 exit in Spain “However, it is the view of the stewards that he could have moved further to the right at the exit of Turn 13.” via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com

[acollectionofpotentialdrawings]

Katherine Nonemaker

ARTH Towson University

Dr Susan Isaacs

Image 1: Pablo Picasso

Guernica, 1937

137.4 x 305.5 in

Oil on canvas

Image 2: Henri Matisse

The Dance, Summer 1932 – April 1933

Overall (left): 133 ¾ x 173 ¾ in. Overall (center): 140 1/8 x 198 1/8 in. Overall (right): 133 3/8 x 173 in.

Oil on canvas

These two works are similar in scale, each with stylized figures, but that is where their similarities end. Pablo Picasso’s Guernica is a powerful statement on the atrocities of war, specifically the April 27, 1937 bombing of Guernica, a town in Spain. The attack was carried out by Francisco Franco and his allies – the German Nazis and the fascist Italians. The attack was the very first aerial bombing of a civilian city, a “city with no strategic military value,” as stated by Lynn Robinson in an article about Guernica and its history. After 3 hours of bombing, the city lay in flaming ruins, and survivors attempting to flee were shot down by 20 German planes. A third of the population was killed or injured by this “training mission.”

Picasso had been commissioned by the Spanish Republican government in 1936 to create a painting for the 1937 Paris World Fair. Even though Picasso’s work had never been political, he felt moved by the news of the Guernica attack to create a memorial painting portraying the horrors of the bombing. In stark black, grey, and white, Picasso paints a scene of death and pain, with animals and figures screaming. Influenced by his Cubist work, the figures are flattened and faceted, breaking into pieces.

Painted in only a month, after hundreds of sketches, the painting was shown at the World Fair where it reached an audience of millions. It was then toured internationally, supported by the Spanish Republicans, to raise awareness and funding for Spanish refugees. Picasso stated that as long as Franco ruled, he did not want the painting to reside in Spain. When the Republican party was reestablished in 1981, Guernica found its way to the national museum of modern art in Madrid, Spain - the Reina Sofia - where it is permanently housed. The work continues to be a political image utilized by contemporary artists to raise awareness for other atrocities of war, such as the American bombing of Iraq.

The Dance by Henri Matisse is a large mural comprised of three canvas panels, painted in oil. The work is a variation on a theme, as Matisse created several paintings titled The Dance, each featuring uninhibited nude figures dancing together. The first version was painted two decades before the mural. This version of The Dance was commissioned by Dr. Albert C. Barnes of the Barnes Foundation in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Dr. Barnes wished to fill the large arches of his home with a mural, and Matisse complied. The work is brightly colored, with the figures silhouetted against a bright blue and salmon pink geometric background. Matisse worked on the piece for over a year. The Dance is joyful and exuberant, with a great sense of playfulness through the choice of color.

The Dance is primarily an aesthetic experience, a celebration of the human figure and its expression in dance. Guernica is a dramatic commentary on the atrocities of war, with imagery of death and destruction. The works represent art’s ability to conjure a mood or emotion in the viewer, whether that is one of joy, such as in The Dance, or horror, such as when viewing the shattered and jagged imagery of Guernica. These powerful emotional dualities are made manifest in these two works.

[pokimoko]

My brain wouldn’t let me rest until I drew this scene out. So here you go, have this absolute nonsense.

[Image ID: Jake is sitting on an armchair with earphones in. There is a cat resting in a bed beside him, and across the room, Marc and Steven are sitting at a kitchen table. Steven is saying: “I wish Jake felt comfortable sharing his music with us.” The following panel is a close-up on Marc and Steven. Steven is saying: “What do you think he’s listening to right now?”. Marc’s reply is: “I dunno. It’s probably somethin’ Spanish.” The next panel shows chibi versions of Marc and Steven as their discussion continues. Steven says: “HEY! We shouldn’t assume. He could like punk for all we know.” Then Marc: “Punk? Doubt it. I bet he listens to hiphop.” Back to Steven: “Oooh! Or maybe he likes EDM. Or Kpop.” Marc again: “Uhh...should I know what those are?” The last panel has Marc and Steven’s conversations continuing on the left. First, Steven says: “I can play some for you. I like it!” Marc replies: “Well, if you like it, then I probably won’t.” Steven says: “Oi!! That’s rude!” Marc answers: “Not my fault you have a weird taste in music.” On the right of the panel, we see a close-up of Jake on the armchair, and in the background is the lyrics on the song he’s listening to, written in big letters. It reads: “TWO TRUCKS HAVING SEX TWO--” /.End ID]

[jadeseadragon]

Marion Peck @marionpeck 🎨 The Vessel, 1990-2022, oil on panel, 36 × 24 inches.

"I started this painting in 1990, when I was 27 years old. Recently I came across it in my mother’s basement, where it had been stored for many years, and it spoke to me so strongly, I felt I had to finish it. It was like my younger self was contacting me from across the years. She was full of disbelief and outrage at what is going on in this country, in the United States of America, a place she never would have dreamed could be as backward as it shows itself to be today.

Not even the Spanish Inquisition had such a narrow view of a woman’s right to bodily autonomy as today’s Republican Party. Throughout the history of Christianity, a developing embryo was not considered to possess a ‘soul’ until ‘quickening’, when the fetus could be felt moving inside the womb. It is only recently that warped pseudo scientific propaganda employed by the Christian Right has created extreme notions of the “personhood” of the unborn.

If you want a better world, know thine enemy: the monotheistic patriarchy, i.e. the conservative right

Anyway, please just vote." 🗳

[senoramadofuentes]

Amado Ch. 2

In NO WAY am I romanticizing the actual Amado Carillo Fuentes, this is all based on the Netflix Character played by Jose Maria Yazpik. 

 Minors DNI!

The story starts right before Felix got arrested by the DEA

Amado Ch. 1

It had been a month since you had last seen or heard from Amado. It stung even more when Valeria would come to you and ask you if you had spoken to him. He was busy was all the explanation she could offer, a lie she heard from Vicente you guess. You rack your brains thinking of what could have happened from the time you met him to the time you fell asleep in his bed. Yes you had left early in the morning but you also left a note explaining why. Maybe you were too uptight, Valeria did tell you to let loose and not be soo strict on yourself or any potential lovers. Maybe that rubbed him off and the many women you assumed he was flirting with during his birthday party were better suitors. It did suck having to be this way, but you couldn’t let yourself get into the same situation that you found yourself in with your ex husband. 

However this weekend, you were going to enjoy your time. Valeria was asked to sing at a launch for a new museum show in the city and you were one of her plus ones. You had stopped asking her about Amado after the second week and assumed the man wouldn’t be in attendance but Vici would be. The outcome was good, there were a lot of people, not so much that you couldn’t see the other side of the room, but a nice crowd. You smile when you hear Valeria’s voice through the speakers as you at art pieces. You look down at your watch to get the time, Vicente had yet to arrive and you hoped he would soon because the museum was set to close within the next 2 hours. 

When you move from the paintings to the sculpture exhibit, the room was relatively empty because most of the guests were listening to a panel of the artists speak. You hold your breath when you hear that familiar gait walking up towards you. You don’t even move a muscle pretending to be really into the roman like sculpture that you were currently looking at. When he stopped right next to you, the cologne confirmed that it was him. Just as you were getting him out of your system here he comes sauntering back into your life like he had a right to be there. You secretly thank yourself for the hairstyle you chose to wear, big curls that cover your peripheral line of sight, easy for you to pretend you don’t really know anyone is near you. You went for an old Hollywood glam look, long gown, red lips, and big hair. Both of you say nothing and you side step pretending to circle the sculpture. 

“Y/N” he calls your name softly. It was music to your ears and ugh, you hated it. 

You turn around and fake surprise “Amado!” You smile. He smiles back and God did you miss that smile. He wore all black with his leather jacket. “Como estas?” 

“Estoy bien, ¿y tu?” 

“Bien” you respond curtly, turning your attention back to the sculpture. 

He felt a prick in his heart, when you didn’t open your arms for a hug but he knew he could smooth things over. For the month that he had been m.i.a he was simply doing a background check on you. Making sure the things that you told him matched up. He was able to find court records of your divorce that explicitly went into detail about the abuse you experienced at the hands of your then husband. Your ex husband was indeed a low ranking PRI member at the time that easily got dismissed after the scandal of your divorce got to high ranking members. In retaliation he did burn down your house which ended him in jail for 2 years. You had to work your way up, taking buses, working low paying jobs until you could finally get on your feet. Currently you work as a manager at an American company based in Mexico city. You did speak 3 languages (Spanish, French, and English) and you were not just telling him phrases you learned. As well as being a part time language  tutor for American families. However the most interesting was your family ties. You definitely didn’t talk to your family at all, and Amado was in sort of a business relationship with your dad. You mentioned him but in more of a you guys don’t talk about falling out due to the divorce thing. All the other details came from Valeria, he was mad that you were divorcing your husband, somehow he managed to rub shoulders with the PRI members and gain benefits from them. Yes you kind of  were a nepotism baby but not as much as your older brother. Your dad got him a job at a firm from his connections, but he got fired from that job, and your dad found him another, however he was constantly in and out of jail, drunk driving, fighting, drugs, you name it he was always in trouble. Still living with your parents expecting them to bail him out which they always did. So your resentment of being born a woman was not something he could fault you for. 

“You look nice” you compliment him

He looked down at his attire “thanks” but you really meant his slicked back hair. You smiled and moved onto the next sculpture with him close behind. When he didn’t say anything you turned to face him. “Why are you here?” 

“He venido a apoyar a Vali (I came to support Vali)” You nod accepting his explanation. No way were you going to read more into that, if it was Vali that he was here to support then so be it. 

You were just as beautiful as he could remember and he was determined to make you his and make it known to you just how much he cared for you. But as he was standing in front of you trying to come up with a reason he had basically disappeared from you for a month, he couldn’t think of anything that would suffice, that wouldn’t raise your concerns for why he was spying on you even though he was confident about what he was going to say to you. 

He hated how you could always have him tongue tied. “¿Qué vas a hacer después de esto? (What are you doing after this?)” He blurts out after moments of silence. 

You turn to look at him “Vali y yo vamos a cenar. (Vali and I are going to dinner)” You say moving around the exhibit

Now he had to figure out a way to separate you two, because not only was Vicente going to be there but his other sicarios as well. 

You give him a look, if you didn’t know better he looked nervous and that was odd. Amado was always calm, cool and collected. He did look calm, cool and collected now, just seemed like he was thinking about a million things at once. 

Before you could stop yourself you ask “Did you have something in mind?” Why did you do that? You could kick yourself into next year for extending an olive branch. He smiled and you can almost see the relief in his shoulders as they dropped a little. “En realidad quería llevarte a cenar (I actually wanted to take you out to dinner)” 

You offer a smile and go into the next exhibit. He doesn’t say much else, making small comments about the exhibits, till you both end up in the back of a crowd where people were listening to Valeria. You both grab a flute of champagne and raise your glasses as a toast to each other. When Valeria stopped you had walked away talking to one of the artists. 

“Thank you for coming Amado” She spoke as she hugged him 

“I told you I would be here” “Almost got me in trouble with Y/N” she pinched his arm

“AY!” Amado squeaked moving away from her

“Did you like it Vici?” 

“Suenas como un ángel (you sound like an angel)” He complimented 

“¿Has visto el cuadro de Y/N? (Have you seen Y/N’s painting)” she asked looking at you to make sure you weren’t privy to what she was doing. That was your little secret, the other way you made money. 

“El cuadro?” “Si!” she grabbed the pamphlet from Amado and pointed to a painting. Amado thinks back to how he watched you from afar, how you had taken your time to look at each painting carefully but this one you just walked by quickly. 

“No es de extrañar que Vici os llame los artistas de Juárez (No wonder Vici calls you two the artists of Juarez)” 

She grabbed the pamphlet “put it away she’s coming!” 

“You did great!” you say while hugging her “Thanks, Amado is here!”  She says joyfully motioning towards him in a ‘tada’ type of manner. 

You give her a look indicating you knew she was lying “Yo se” 

She grabbed your shoulders “¡Amado, ella estaba preocupada por ti! Dónde está amado? Estoy preocupado! (Amado, she was worried about you, Where is Amado? I am worried!)” 

You roll your eyes “ella está mintiendo (she’s lying)” Amado smirks and looks you up and down and you turn to look away not wanting him to see you blush. 

At dinner you both sit across from each other, you drinking wine while he drinks whisky. “I’ve been thinking about what you said” “What did I say?” you ask

“You want me” 

You shrug “Oh, if it’s too much of an ask then don’t worry about it” 

“That’s not it Y/N” “So what is the issue?” He leans in, “Why did you ask for me?” “What am I supposed to ask for?” He remained silent thinking for an answer “Most women would ask for some money, purse, shoes, clothes” he waved his hand “That type of thing” “Amado no soy la mayoría de las mujeres (Amado, I am not most women)” He smirks “Yo se” “If I wanted power and status, I would have gone out with the many PRI deputies who keep trying to date me.” He rubbed his temple. “What are you worried about?” He opened his mouth to respond but closed it right away. “Más excusas? (anymore excuses?)” 

He shook his head and scoffed 

“Amado no te pido que descifres jeroglíficos. Mi petición es simple todo lo que quiero es a ti, el casi siempre bueno, a veces malo, raramente peor, tú. (Amado I’m not asking you to decipher hieroglyphics. My ask is simple all I want is you, the mostly good, sometimes bad, rarely worse, you.)” you say getting frustrated with his excuses. 

“Yo se” “¿Cuál es tu problema? (What is the problem?)” “Are you sure that’s all you want?” “Yes! Do you want me to be with you for material things or just you?” He smiled “Me” You sigh and take a sip of your drink “It’s okay, if you feel like I am asking for a lot I get it I won’t hold that against you”

“Quiero estar contigo Y/N”  he leans over and grabs your hand to caress. You take a deep breath and let him speak. “Este mes lejos de ti, sólo me hizo extrañarte más, más de lo que admitiré (This month away from you only made me miss you more, more than I will admit.)”  you smile at him, and place your other hand into his. Maybe Amado was like you, in a way that he had a hard time letting go of control and letting the pieces fall where they may. 

“Amado, El amor es difícil, pero puede ser lo más gratificante de experimentar. (Amado love is hard, but it can be the most rewarding thing to experience)” “I know” 

“What’s holding you back?” “I don’t want to hurt you” he speaks thinking of his ex wife and daughter, people he had yet to tell you about.

You give him a sympathetic look “Then do everything in your power to not do so” 

He smiled and leaned back in his chair. Food came and you both ate in silence, both of you absentmindedly thinking of everything that has transpired between you two. 

“¿Quieres un postre?” the waiter asked as he took the dinner plates from you . 

“Si!” you answer 

“Si sólo me quieres a mí, entonces te daré a mí (if it’s only me that you want, then I will give you me)” he smiles after he finishes his statement. The joy that takes over your face is all that he needs to see to know he made the right decision. He extends his hand for you to shake “Trato?” 

You look down at the hand and back at him “No soy tu socio comercial (I am not your business partner)” 

He smirks and rubs the back of your hand. You smile at him as you tease him with how you lick the ice cream off the spoon. 

“Tienes que mudarte conmigo para mantenerte segura (You have to move in with me, to keep you safe)” 

“Pero mi apartamento (But my apartment)” He interrupts you “but your apartment will always be there your safety is now my number one priority” When he notices your reservation he tells you to think about it and get back to him soon. The rest of the night he showers you with compliments and love phrases. During your ride home, you stop to think about what you actually get yourself into. Dating a drug trafficker?  Of course you had to move in with him! Things were getting more violent. It was impossible for you to be safe in your apartment. 

The car stopped at your apartment building, bringing you back to reality. Amado softly grabbed your face and leaned in for a soft kiss, always ending it with butterfly kisses. When you pull away you look up at him, you have that drunken smile that he loved to look at. 

“Dime, nena” 

“Necesito dos días” he was confused for a second before he smiled, you agreed. “Y dile a tus conductores que no lleguen tarde (and tell your drivers to not be late)” you open the door 

“Sólo ropa y documentos importantes (only clothes and important documents)” You giggle and step out “Buenas noches Amado” “Sólo ropa y documentos importantes!” He insisted You blow him a kiss and sashay your way into the building. 

He chuckles as he watches you walk in “Esta maldita mujer sera mi muerte (this woman will be the death of me)” 

A/N: Please tell me what you think. 

[captnjacksparrow]

Hi, I love your blog and I read it every day... ❤️

I have a question, do you think that Sakura, Hinata or someone from the village knew or suspected the true feelings of Naruto and Sasuke?👀

That's right, in the manga, when Naruto is talking to Sakura about Sai, Naruto gets nervous or something like that, however the face that he puts in the manga is as if he was putting it to the test.

I don't know maybe I'm just hallucinating but I want to know your opinion. I'm sorry if you don't understand, my language is Spanish.

🍅🍅🍥🍥

Aahhh!!! Insanely interesting ask, Anon. I love this one!!!!

I think no one suspects their feelings between them but they know Naruto and Sasuke feels ‘something’ about each other to the point when something happens to one of them, the other would react in an intense manner. 

I mean, Kishi cannot put a scene , say Sakura, doubting their feelings for each other otherwise it would stir up a lot of trouble, that is, it would confirm something’s really going on between the two. (Which is not ‘typical’ of Shounen. Sigh!!!)

However, Kishi does things in his own way by making it as a joke or a casual thing. And I am going to include everyone from the Narutoverse, not just someone from Konoha.

PEOPLE WHO MILDLY ‘SHIPS’ NARUTO AND SASUKE IN NARUTOVERSE

Alright, people, Here ‘Ship’ means not in a romantical sense. But in a platonic or friendly sense.

HAKU

When I watched this series for the first time, I always wondered ‘What made Haku think that attacking Naruto would make Sasuke fall into the trap?’. 

Then I realized Sasuke was carrying Naruto around to protect him from Haku’s senbon attacks at any cost, which made Sasuke expose his weakness and Haku just fount it and used it against him. 

OROCHIMARU

Some other shippers claim ‘Forest of the Death’ Arc belonged to Ms.Pinky. But Orochimaru and Kabuto’s analysis proves it otherwise. But what did he found there?

Designing a lengthy password which Naruto cannot remember to lure Orochimaru out.

When Naruto came to save Sasuke, he panicked and asked Naruto to ‘Run Away’ and gave up the scroll.

Fought back Orochimaru after seeing Naruto got knocked out.

Kabuto found that Sasuke was overusing Sharingan even to the point of enduring Cursed Seal’s pain to protect Naruto.

KABUTO

“Hardly behaving as a man”... LOL. 

OROCHIMARU AGAIN

This whole battle is to provoke Naruto using Sasuke’s name. And when Orochimaru used the word, ‘My Sasuke-kun’... Naruto just got deranged to the point of sprouting 4 Tails. 

KAKASHI

Sasuke is Naruto’s strength. Kakashi said it. It’s canon, Guys.

KIBA

It’s surprising that Kiba also knows that Naruto gets Hot-Headed when it comes to Sasuke. 

KABUTO AGAIN

Gosh!!!! These Orochimaru and Kabuto duo maybe absolute trash. But they do know something about Naruto and Sasuke.

PAIN

LOL.... How did Nagato know about Naruto chasing Sasuke??? Is this some International news? 

ITACHI

I always wondered as to why Itachi posed this particular question to him? A question which forces Naruto to choose an option. An impossible option which Itachi chose and endured a lot of pain for. Naruto protecting the village is obvious. Why did he ask Naruto about Sasuke? What did he saw?

The answer is in part 1. When Itachi visited the village after Hiruzen’s death, he ‘planned’ to kidnap Naruto. When Sasuke came in between, Itachi just beat the crap out of him. 

But Naruto was so furious to draw Kyuubi Chakra to protect Sasuke. Itachi noticed this very well and hence came to this conclusion. That’s why Itachi didn’t pay any attention to Sasuke. LOL. Which made Sasuke go crazy.

KARIN

This doesn’t need any explanation, does it??? Probably Sasuke might’ve reacted to his name and Karin noticed it. Who knows? Anyways, it’s interesting that a person outside of Konoha could able to connect Sasuke with Naruto, meaning, Karin could able to see something’s going on between them.

KURAMA

ROFL..... There’s no one better in this world to ask Naruto, this particular question, other than Kurama.

KURAMA AGAIN

“What kind of flavour did that Sasuke’s lips have?”.... Gosh!!! This is such an useless scene. Most importantly, Naruto is getting Nose Bleed here. 

ITACHI AGAIN

No doubt, Itachi is the No.1 shipper of SNS. He knew Naruto can change Sasuke.

OBITO

Well, Obito was right about one thing... Naruto’s death can bring powers to Sasuke. But he was wrong about underestimating both of them, that is, they will fight on Obito’s accord. 

OROCHIMARU AGAIN

One of my favorite underrated SNS scene. There is no mention of Pink Trash or anyone else. Well, he lived with him for 3 years. He is the only person who can read Sasuke’s expression perfectly. 

TOBIRAMA

Gosh!!!!! This!!!!! This is just an alien level shipping. Tobirama, a person who rarely compliments, but when he does, it must be damn excellent. Like he was so happy to see Minato was so fast in performing Hiraishin no Jutsu, a jutsu he invented. He openly admitted his admiration 3 times. 

When he complimented the ‘Level of Unison’ achieved by two 16 year old boys, which takes YEARS to achieve is so heartwarming. Because, only we, the audience, knew that Naruto and Sasuke fought together for the last time way back when they were 12 in Land of Waves arc. Even then they could team up together without any direct communication. 

Damn!!!!

OROCHIMARU AGAIN

This is another underrated scene and Orochimaru scores for SNS. We saw Naruto was crying rivers when Obito sucked everyones’s chakra. Sasuke’s face seems to be in a bad mood. 

Orochimaru really is the Mood Finder of Sasuke.

PEOPLE OF KONOHA

Damn!!!! This is my all time favourite!!!!!! 

This is when Ebisu Sensei, fondly remembers how Naruto has grown from a Deadlast (in Episode 1) to an Hero (End of Pain Arc). During one of his memories, People of Konoha appreciates Naruto for stopping Gara from Invading Konoha and Bring Tsunade as Fifth Hokage. When it comes to retrieving Sasuke, this panel appears.

Even people of Konoha themselves knows that Naruto will be depressed if Sasuke is not there in Konoha with him. 

I mean, for every achievements Naruto made, the villagers praised him. When Jiraiya was dead, the villagers felt, ‘Naruto will not lose heart, He’ll keep on going, like always’. But when it comes to Sasuke, the villagers implicitly felt that Naruto will be depressed. 

Kishi is showing us that everyone in Narutoverse understands the feelings between Naruto and Sasuke, but he didn’t drew the extent as to how far it goes. He just left it ambiguous. 

But one thing is sure,

‘Everyone knows that they both are connected somehow and both of them have certain influence on each other which no other person has in Narutoverse and they know that one will suffer without the other.’