#apparel business plan

[jessica-larson]

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[digitalmaarket]

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[aeth-eris]

★ how to maximize profits via 2nd house ★

aries in the 2nd house can maximize profits by capitalizing on their entrepreneurial drive and competitive spirit. aries benefits from fast-paced, high-energy ventures where they can lead and make quick decisions. they might excel by launching a fitness training program, offering personal coaching services, or starting a motivational brand that sells products like athletic apparel, energy drinks, or performance gear. aries could also find success with subscription boxes focused on high-adrenaline hobbies like hiking, martial arts, or adventure sports. by embracing ventures that allow them to innovate quickly and take the lead, aries can build profitable businesses that leverage their passion and high energy.

taurus in the 2nd house is well-suited for steady financial growth through high-quality, long-term investments and products. they thrive in businesses that emphasize luxury, beauty, and quality, such as a high-end skincare line, organic foods business, or eco-friendly clothing brand. taurus could also consider starting a boutique furniture store that sells artisan-crafted or vintage items, as they appreciate products with enduring value. with their talent for creating a comforting atmosphere, taurus might excel with a bed and breakfast, a spa, or a wellness center that offers relaxation services. taurus maximizes profits by focusing on products that prioritize quality and offer a luxurious experience, appealing to clients who value longevity and craftsmanship.

gemini in the 2nd house can boost profits by tapping into their adaptability and communication skills, especially in diverse, mentally stimulating fields. they could thrive by starting a digital marketing agency, offering copywriting or editing services, or launching an online course platform that covers a wide range of topics to cater to curious minds. with their natural social skills, gemini could also excel in creating a networking app or social media consulting service. offering services like translation, podcasting, or even freelance journalism can keep income flowing, as gemini is well-suited to manage multiple streams of revenue. their knack for curiosity-driven ventures and networking makes them ideal for businesses that involve idea-sharing, quick adaptability, and community engagement.

cancer in the 2nd house can increase earnings by focusing on nurturing and emotionally resonant businesses that bring comfort to others. they might start a home-cooked meal delivery service, a childcare center, or a family-focused event planning service that organizes intimate gatherings like birthdays and reunions. cancer could also do well in real estate, particularly with home staging or property management that emphasizes creating warm, inviting spaces. they could excel in interior decorating, especially with a focus on cozy, family-oriented spaces, or start a handcrafted candle or blanket line. by building businesses that revolve around care, comfort, and family, cancer can create loyal clients and establish long-term success through emotional connections.

leo in the 2nd house maximizes profits by showcasing their creativity and leadership, often excelling in businesses that allow them to stand out and build a brand. leo could find success with a personal brand consultancy, fashion line, or luxury event planning business. they might enjoy launching a social media channel focused on lifestyle or self-improvement, where they can attract sponsorships or sell branded merchandise. leo also thrives in roles where they can influence and inspire others, so they might consider starting a motivational speaking business, an acting or dance academy, or a high-end boutique. with their flair for self-expression, leo profits best when they create high-quality, visually captivating products and services that let their star power shine through.

virgo in the 2nd house finds financial success through practical, detail-oriented services that provide high value and efficiency. they excel in businesses that involve organization, health, and precision, such as financial consulting, tax preparation, or a personal organizing service. virgo might also thrive with a nutrition or wellness coaching business, offering tailored health plans or holistic products like herbal supplements or self-care kits. a digital bookkeeping service, copyediting business, or virtual assistant agency could also bring them steady profits, as virgo’s meticulous nature appeals to clients who seek reliability and structure. by focusing on services that emphasize quality and organization, virgo builds a reputation for excellence that attracts a steady client base.

libra in the 2nd house can increase earnings by leveraging their skills in diplomacy, aesthetics, and partnerships. they could start a wedding planning business, a floral design company, or a luxury lifestyle brand that sells carefully curated home décor items. libra would also excel in public relations consulting or brand management roles, where they can help clients present a refined, balanced image. creating a high-end art gallery, a boutique law firm, or a relationship coaching service could also align well with libra’s skills. libra thrives in partnership-focused ventures, so building collaborative business models or co-founding a business with others can also enhance their profitability and bring a sense of harmony to their financial life.

scorpio in the 2nd house maximizes profits by tapping into their ability to handle intensity and complexity, often succeeding in fields like finance, psychology, and research. scorpio could build wealth by creating a private investigation firm, a psychotherapy practice, or a financial planning service specializing in wealth management or estate planning. they might also thrive in real estate investment, particularly with properties that need transformation, such as flipping houses or managing rental properties. scorpio may also excel in businesses related to holistic healing, offering reiki or shadow work coaching. by focusing on industries that require trust, depth, and resilience, scorpio can attract clients who value privacy and are willing to invest in transformational services.

sagittarius in the 2nd house can increase profits by embracing their love for adventure, growth, and education. they could launch a travel agency specializing in unique cultural experiences, a language learning platform, or a motivational speaking business that offers courses and workshops. sagittarius could also thrive by creating a publishing company focused on philosophical or inspirational content or starting a tour guiding business for international destinations. their enthusiasm for knowledge makes them great at teaching, so they might consider offering online courses or starting a coaching business in a field they’re passionate about. by aligning with growth-oriented ventures, sagittarius can attract an audience that values inspiration and big-picture thinking.

capricorn in the 2nd house maximizes profits through disciplined, long-term planning and a practical approach to business. they’re well-suited for businesses like a corporate consulting firm, project management agency, or investment portfolio service. capricorn could also do well in real estate development, particularly with rental properties or commercial buildings. they might find success by starting a financial advisory firm or creating a luxury goods company focused on high-end, timeless products like leather goods or fine jewelry. by aligning with industries that reward patience and professionalism, capricorn can build a solid financial foundation and enjoy steady growth, often seeing long-term success through conservative but reliable investments.

aquarius in the 2nd house can increase profits by focusing on innovation, technology, and humanitarian ventures. they might launch a tech startup, a renewable energy company, or a social media platform that prioritizes community and ethical interaction. aquarius could also find success with a nonprofit organization focused on social justice, an eco-friendly product line, or a collaborative workspace for creatives and freelancers. their futuristic mindset makes them perfect for ventures in artificial intelligence, blockchain technology, or virtual reality. by aligning their finances with progressive and forward-thinking industries, aquarius can attract clients and customers who value innovation and social impact.

pisces in the 2nd house maximizes profits by leaning into their creativity, compassion, and spirituality. they may thrive in a music or art therapy practice, a spiritual coaching business, or a holistic wellness center that offers services like yoga, meditation, and crystal healing. pisces could also succeed by creating a boutique art studio, a dream journal line, or a subscription service for wellness products like essential oils, herbal teas, and calming rituals. they’re drawn to businesses that help others heal or connect with their inner selves, so they may also find success in fields like astrology, psychic readings, or intuitive counseling. by aligning with businesses that emphasize emotional well-being and creativity, pisces can build a profitable venture that resonates deeply with clients who seek personal and spiritual growth.

[verymaudlin]

hi everyone, my name is maudlin (previously doll hospital). anyone who knows me and my mom knows that i’m her servant way before i’m her daughter. growing up my peers would ask me if i wanted their moms to talk to mine and i would always freak because i knew that would make things worse. after living in nyc for two years and getting a taste of what it’s like to live out from under her thumb, i had to move back home because my psychiatrist in nyc was extremely negligent, letting me go for weeks at a time without meds. nothing could have prepared me for how triggering it would be to be living back home with my abuser. my osdd got/is getting worse, and i’m seeing my personality fracture into myself and an internal mother figure just to cope with having a shitty one. it’s helpful but ultimately really scary.

but luckily i have new plans for what comes next! i want to go to baltimore city community college to study apparel design and business administration to run my own fashion brand! i have so many ideas and such clarity on what i want to do next, i just need help getting there. all this to say that if you would even just rb this or donate even $1, that would mean the world to me and i would be one step closer from cutting her out of my life forever.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Six

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: A few weeks after your first mission with Miguel, he shows up at your apartment to show you something.

Word Count: 10,161 (Someone needs to take my laptop away from me. I promise this will be the longest part. I won't let it happen again.)

Warning: Soft Miguel; Sad Miguel; It made me wish for summer to end even more; Some readers may not recognize some food items mentioned but it's not too important for the plot, however, you can find a guide right here if you want to know what they look like; Slight mention of abuse

Music inspo while writing:

"Luna de Xelajú" - Gaby Moreno, Oscar Isaac (I love this song so much. The Gaby and Miguel edits with this song make me want to sob each time 🥹)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

Part Six

The trees in your city slowly change colors as the weeks go by. The greenery of summer fades only for nature to offer its orange, yellow, and red hues on your morning patrols. The sun retreats into hiding sooner, while the moon and stars emerge earlier, lighting the early, chilly evenings. It’s finally autumn. Coffee and book shops play autumnal music in the background as quiet and intimate conversations take place in small, cozy corners. The sweet scent of cinnamon and coffee fills the air. People walk the streets wearing cozy and warm apparel, coffee in hands to provide warmth. When you walk on the busy sidewalks of your city to buy groceries, you see the lively colors of autumn behind condensed window displays. You take notice of the faux autumn leaves and twinkling lights. The sight of mums and pumpkins meets you here and there.

You begin to go out to bookshops more often. You spend time with your friends, both outside and during work. Your friendship with them grows stronger. They visit you in your universe as you start inviting them for dinner at your humble apartment. You slowly begin to talk about Peter with them, feeling easier to bring him up each time you do so.

Many weeks have gone by since your first mission with Miguel. It’s not the last one. You find yourself going on missions with Jess, one other person, and him once a week now. You are no longer surprised by it. It’s normal. One week he assigns you to the same side of the city he works on, the next one he doesn’t. It’s a pattern. Each time you work on the same side, he suggests that the two of you swing through the city when you’re both done scanning for anomaly matter.

It's part of the surveillance and learning plan he has implemented, of course. So, this makes perfect sense. Every other week, you find yourselves on the tallest building’s rooftop, overseeing the city. Sometimes you talk briefly. Sometimes Miguel tells you about anomalies that have been caught from that universe in the past, before your recruitment into the Spider Society. Before you knew of each other’s existence. Other times, it’s you who tells him about anomalies you have caught with other colleagues. You listen intently to each other’s words as a form of respect and trust.

You continue to organize Miguel’s lab. With the weekly assigned missions, your time organizing his lab, and the minutes before scheduled meetings that add up, you begin to spend roughly four hours around the founder and commander of the Spider Society each week. You continue to take coffee for meetings, arriving early as always. Miguel sometimes talks to you about the anomalies from the previous week before anyone else arrives, your conversation ceasing when other ears enter the room. Sometimes you take food to him when you arrive to organize the lab. Miguel is no longer surprised like he used to be about the coffee cups, or like the first time you took him empanadas weeks ago. He accepts the food, and thanks you.

Without fully realizing it, there’s a shift between the two of you. So subtle, like the changing leaves of trees in autumn.

It’s the first of November. You walk around your apartment with your fall playlist playing in the background as you do random chores even though it’s ten at night. You do laundry you needed to catch up on. You put away the little amount of Halloween decorations you have. You wash dishes and clean the kitchen. You fix the throw blanket on your couch. You dust your furniture. It’s all a bunch of random chores that you’ve been meaning to do but have been too busy to get done over the week due to missions, patrolling your city, and Halloween. A lot of petty crimes occur on the holiday because people think they can get away with it if they wear costumes.

You’re also hit with a random spur of energy, so you take advantage of it. You move quietly around your apartment, your music filling the space that would otherwise be silent. As you clean, you think about how different this year has been compared to the last three years. You especially think about this as the holidays are right around the corner now. For once in three years, you have plans for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Peter and Mary Jane are hosting Friendsgiving at their universe. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited you and the rest of the group for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to their building’s party and then again for New Years.

It's been so long since you even celebrated. You found no point since it was just you and you cut off your friends from your universe. You smile as you clean thinking how it will be different this year. You can’t help but stop and stare at one of Peter’s photos on the wall. He would be happy, you think.

You’re in your bedroom now, putting away random objects that have made other areas of the apartment their home for days when a multidimensional portal opens in your living room. You sense it. You walk out of your bedroom just as the floating objects in your living room fall back into place. The portal is fading now.

Miguel stands in the middle of your apartment. His eyes take in your living room, lightly decorated for the autumn season. He spots a few pumpkins and faux leaves on your bookshelf. He can smell the scent of autumn candles as the music plays softly in the background. He finally turns around, looking for you, it seems. His gaze falls on you, meeting your eyes.

“Miguel. Is everything alright?” you ask, as you stand just outside your bedroom.

Miguel looks around for a second at the fallen objects. He gives you an apologetic look before he speaks. “Everything is fine.”

You nod, unsure of what to say. It’s past eleven at night and your boss just showed up. Randomly. Or at least it seems so. You see Miguel’s eyes scan you briefly, probably noticing that you’re still in normal clothes and not pajamas despite how late it is. His eyes meet yours again as he briefly thinks about how this is officially the third time he has been to your apartment. You are officially the only colleague he has visited these many times in such a short amount of time. He doesn’t let himself think too much of it now.

“Are you busy right now?” he asks at last, quietly.

“I was just doing some chores so, no…” you say, unsure of where this is going. He said everything is fine. He is calm. That means there’s no threat to the multiverse. No need to change into your suit right away.

Miguel nods and sighs so quietly, you barely register it. “I would like - to show you something,” he says, still meeting your eyes.

You stand there for a second or two, processing what he just said before you nod slowly.

“Should I change into my suit?” you ask, still unsure of what’s going on, but Miguel shakes his head.

“No need to change.”

You nod. “Oh, okay. Then – I’m ready,” you say quietly, still standing just outside your bedroom.

Miguel nods before he clicks on his gizmo, opening a portal again. The portal opens. Its lights shine brightly around your apartment and objects begin to float again. You quickly grab your own gizmo, sliding it on before you approach him. He motions for you to enter first and as you do so, you briefly wonder if you should’ve grabbed a jacket as your sweater is on the lighter side. Your worry melts, however, as you step into Miguel’s lab, where it’s warm. You sense Miguel right behind you, so you step to the side. Your eyes scan the lab, trying to figure out what Miguel wants to show you, but you see nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, you don’t know what you’re looking for.

Miguel is standing next to you now as the portal’s colors and lights begin to fade away. You look over at Miguel and find him looking down at the floor as if thinking. You wonder then. What is he trying to show you? Whatever it is, it seems that he might be reconsidering.

“If you’re not comfortable showing me, it’s okay,” you say quietly, not wanting him to feel pressured to show you now but he lifts his gaze to yours and shakes his head softly.

“No – I want to show you,” he says quietly, and you nod.

Miguel nods back before he turns and starts walking deeper into his lab. You follow him, giving him some distance just in case he changes his mind. He walks to a side of the lab that’s not usually trafficked by people, behind his platform. Your curiosity grows with each second as you walk around it, a few feet behind Miguel. Your nose is slowly overwhelmed by a rich and sharp scent, but you can’t pinpoint what it is. Miguel looks behind his shoulder as he finally stops walking. You see it then, or part of it as Miguel’s body covers some of your vision because he’s a few feet in front of you.

“You can come closer,” Miguel says, sensing that you’re still too far away.

As your eyes take in what you can see in that moment, you immediately know where the scent is coming from when your eyes fall on marigold flowers.

An ofrenda, as Miguel had said weeks ago when you were celebrating Peter’s birthday. You suddenly remember. It’s the first of November. Dia de los Muertos. Your mind flashes back to that moment. You were cutting Miguel a second slice of cake, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing when he spoke.

“I also…” Miguel said, pausing. “I celebrate Dia de los Muertos, I don’t know if you -” he paused, and you nodded then, indicating you knew what he was talking about as you put the slice on his plate. “I make a small ofrenda for them.” You placed his plate in front of him, meeting his eyes. “So – it’s not – Don’t feel as if…” Miguel said, trailing off and you nodded.

He had shared that with you then, to make you feel less embarrassed. To assure you, you weren’t alone in remembering, celebrating, and honoring Peter even after his death.

Your eyes flicker to Miguel for a few seconds, his attention is back to the ofrenda. You step closer, keeping your eyes on him, as you do so. You stop, standing a few feet behind him still, not wanting to invade his space. Not wanting to invade his ofrenda, his act of remembrance, celebration, and honor for his loved ones.

Sensing your reluctance to walk closer, Miguel speaks in a hushed tone.

“Y/N… you may come closer,” he whispers.

You stand still for a few seconds and then walk closer, stopping next to him. Your eyes take in the ofrenda as you’re able to appreciate it more now that you’re closer to it. Miguel’s ofrenda is absolutely beautiful and you can see the effort he put into it as your eyes take it in.

The ofrenda is made of two levels, both are covered in a bright blue fabric. Sheets of tissue paper in lively colors were cut into intricate patterns and hung from the edges of both levels. You notice the second level holds four photographs, which are in physical, wooden frames. Despite the advanced universe of your boss, Miguel O’Hara still used physical, wooden picture frames for his ofrenda. For some reason, that makes you feel tenderness towards the man next to you. Your eyes move from each picture slowly. The first photo your eyes fall on show an older woman. You take in her appearance, noticing some of her features are familiar. Miguel’s face flashes in your mind. His mother, you realize, knowing nothing about her. No one knows anything about Miguel’s family. It isn’t something that Miguel ever talks about.

Your eyes move to the other end of the level, falling on the photograph of a young man. He was handsome with one of those cheeky, boyish smiles. You notice he looks on the younger side and you can’t help but wonder if Miguel once had a brother.

The two photos in the center show people you have seen before. Two individuals you know a little about.

Gabriella and Miguel’s wife.  Your eyes fall on Gabriella, noticing that her photo was more centered on the ofrenda. You notice the decorations then. Small sugar skulls made of clay fill the gaps between each photograph. Marigold flowers serve as a pop of color behind the picture frames and clay sugar skulls. Lit candles light up the ofrenda on both levels. They flicker softly, creating a soft and intimate moment.

Your eyes fall to the lowest level. You still find marigold flowers, sugar skulls, and lit candles but there are other items in front of each photograph. You remember that on Dia de los Muertos, loved ones place food, drinks, and other objects that those who have passed away enjoyed in life. In front of his mother’s photograph, Miguel placed a plate with food, surrounded by fruit like apples and oranges. A glass bottle with an orange drink was placed next to it. When you move to the young man, who you are almost certain is Miguel’s brother, you spot tamales, a drink, and two pink pieces of bread in the shape of a seashell. Pan dulce. There are also these thin, bright yellow candy-sized packages next to his drink. Your eyes almost miss it but there’s a scarf looped around the plates with food. When you look back at the photograph, you notice the young man is wearing that very same scarf in his photo.

You move to Miguel’s wife. She, too, has a plate with food, different from the others. You cannot help but wonder… Did Miguel cook their favorite meals? Once again, tenderness washes over you as you imagine Miguel spending the day cooking and setting up his ofrenda. You finish looking at Miguel’s wife section, seeing some candy and a drink, too.

It's Gabriella’s section that really strikes you, making a bittersweet feeling rush through you as you scan her section. There are three plates of food. You don’t recognize the food in one of them but the other one you do. Pancakes with chocolate chips on top. Your mind flashes back to months ago, when you entered Miguel’s lab after he found out that Lyla had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of Gabriella and his wife. He had mentioned Gabriella loved his breakfasts, especially pancakes with chocolate chips, when he was telling you a little bit about her.

Your heart aches as you continue to stare at the pancakes. You swallow the knot that has begun to form in your throat. You tell yourself to calm down. You know Dia de los Muertos is not about grief. It’s about celebrating those who have passed away. Remembering and honoring them. A night for loved ones to visit and spend time with those who are still alive.

You sigh quietly as your eyes move. You spot more items in Gabriella’s section. There is quite a bit of candy, which makes you smile. You spot small, green and white, bottles with pointy red lids. There are small packs with bright pink tablets, which remind you of gum. Your eyes fall on two lollipops. They have a clown face printed on it, showing a chocolate covered marshmallow with gummies as a face. There’s more candy, like those thin bright yellow packs you saw on the young man’s side. Your eyes move to the last plate. Gabriella also has the same kind of pan dulce found on the young man’s plate: two pink seashell-like pieces of bread.

There are also drinks in Gabriella’s section. You find tiny see-through bottles, almost the height of your pointing finger with a beige liquid and red letters printed on the outside. There’s also a tall glass of what looks like chocolate milk, next to a short, blue container with an animated character printed on it. And finally, there’s a large mug of rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon. Arroz con leche.

It doesn’t stop there, however. The bright blue fabric covers some of the floor and right there you find toys and other random objects. Your eyes immediately fall on a soccer ball, reminding you that Gabriella loved to play soccer and was part of the soccer team at her school. You smile as you keep your eyes on it for a few seconds. You spot children’s books on the side, noticing that some of them fall under the science genre.

You remember that Miguel shared with you that Gabriella loved science and enjoyed reading. There are other toys of course, like dolls and small animal figures. Your eyes fall on one item specifically though. A small acoustic guitar. You briefly wonder if little Gabriella liked to play the acoustic guitar but of course, you don’t ask about it.

Your eyes take in the ofrenda again, all of it now. Miguel did a beautiful job. You smile softly at the sight and the fact that Miguel went to your apartment tonight to show you his ofrenda. He’s honoring his loved ones in his own way, and he invited you to be a part of it. The same way you invited him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Miguel move. He slowly gets on his knees in front of the ofrenda, with a soft sigh before he rests his body over his heels. You notice he’s looking straight ahead at Gabriella’s photo. You slowly drop to your knees, too, and as you stare at Gabriella’s photo you speak, breaking the silence.

“It’s beautiful, Miguel,” you whisper softly in Miguel’s quiet lab.

“Thank you,” he whispers back, softly.

The two of you stare silently at the ofrenda. The candles’ wicks flicker softly, still casting soft shadows on the photographs. You think about Miguel’s loved ones. He has lost so many people even before Gabriella and his wife. You can’t help but wonder now, how lonely was Miguel that he inserted himself in another world?

You have never judged him and never will for this. However, you cannot help but feel heartache for him. He has lost so many people. Why did life take so much from this man? This man, who you have begun to know better with each passing day, who was soft, loving, kind, and caring on the inside? He didn’t show these traits much these days, but you have received his kindness before.

He showed you kindness the day he showed up at your apartment to check on you. It wasn’t Jess who sent him. He had shown up on his own. You still wonder about that. How he had asked you not to bring it up to Jess so he wasn’t caught in a lie. He didn’t want you to know he had done it because he wanted to or because his true, hidden traits had led him to do it. Ever since he lost Gabriella and his wife, he was distant and cold, unwilling to attach himself to anyone again. Except, his true self was still there, hidden under the surface of his coldness and unattachment.

He made appearances sometimes. Like that day at your apartment. Or the day he talked about Gabriella to you when you walked into his lab, not knowing he was having a bad day because of Lyla’s secret. Or on Peter’s birthday. And there were other moments you hadn’t been around for like the time he allowed Gwen Stacy into the Spider Society. Even though he didn’t want her to be a part of it because of her connection with Miles, Miguel allowed her recruitment because of the issue with her father and her Spider-Woman identity.

That version of Miguel made his appearance today. Miguel O’Hara spent his entire day working on his ofrenda for his loved ones. He cooked. He cut the tissue paper. He printed out the photos and placed them in picture frames despite being able to simply display them with screens. He picked out the marigold flowers. He bought drinks, candy, and toys. He put together his ofrenda.

As the two of you kneel before it, there’s a shared understanding between the two of you. There’s comfort. Vulnerability. Trust. A bond between the two of you that has been forming over the last months strengthens.

You sigh softly as your eyes land on the soccer ball again. Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down to see your face. He sees you looking at the soccer ball.

“She loved playing soccer, so I bought her one,” Miguel mutters quietly, and you nod.

“I remember. She played in the soccer team,” you say softly.

Miguel nods, feeling a warm sensation wash over his chest as you mention that fact. It has been many weeks now since he shared that with you. And you remembered.

“I think – she must be very happy to see her favorite breakfast,” you add, looking up at Miguel.

He looks down at you. You remembered that, too. Miguel nods before turning away slowly. He has never shared much about his life with others. Not with Jess or Peter, who were already a part of his life back then. They knew some parts of his life of course but he had never gone into much detail. It had been too painful. It was easier to keep it all to himself, put away at the back of his mind while he exhausted himself with work to keep his emotions at bay.

You are the first one he has shared some of those days with. Miguel can’t help but think about the first day he met you. Jess introduced you and of course, he had thought you were the opposite of him. You seemed so happy and alive despite having lost someone. He had been so wrong about you. You carried your own grief and loss but hid it so well.

Either way, had someone told him that he was going to be opening to you in so many ways back then, he would’ve laughed. He wouldn’t have believed it, but it was true. He has opened up to you. And you remember. You listened to him. You didn’t ask questions. You understood.

Miguel sighs softly, looking at the photographs. You knew of his wife and sweet Gabriella of course but not of his mother or Gabriel. Little Gabrielito. Miguel shakes his head softly at his brother’s photograph, thinking how he left too soon.

Miguel clears his throat, turning slightly to you now. This catches your attention, so you turn to face him.

“The young man – that’s my brother. Gabriel, or as I called him, Gabrielito. He passed away a few years ago,” Miguel shares.

You offer Miguel a sad smile, not speaking. Not wanting to discourage Miguel from sharing.

“He was my little brother,” Miguel says. “He was such – a pain on the butt sometimes but he always meant well. He was always cheery. Kind.”

You nod, wanting to say that you could tell just by the cheeky smile on Gabriel’s face. Miguel notices that you seem reluctant to speak. He thinks about how respectful you always are. Again, you never ask questions. You never overstep his boundary lines. And hell, his respect for you grows in that moment even more. You are a good person. You are kind. Miguel fails to notice it, but his heart beats a bit faster. You are the closest he has to a friend these days even though he doesn’t fully realize it. You are the only person he was willing to share this moment with because you allowed him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration. He wanted to reciprocate the gesture.

And, as he stares down at your face, he realizes that he wants to hear your thoughts. He wants to know what you think. He wants you to ask questions because he feels comfortable with you. The firm boundary line he has established and maintained for so long, crumbles in that moment for you.

“You can talk, you know,” Miguel says softly, prompting you to offer him an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to intrude or overstep. I know how delicate and personal these moments are,” you respond truthfully. “Thank you for letting me in on your celebration,” you whisper, and Miguel detects the sincerity in your tone.

He nods. “You made me a part of Peter’s birthday celebration … I wanted you to be a part of mine,” he answers softly.

You nod once again, giving him a brighter smile. “Thank you,” you whisper, meaning it.

Not everyone understood of course but you understood each other. With his words coming back to you, about being able to talk, you sigh softly before you speak.

“Your brother – I can tell he was cheerful with that cheeky smile,” you say, turning to Gabriel’s photo.

Miguel’s eyes fall on his brother’s smile. It was indeed cheeky.

“Since a kid,” Miguel shares. “He always had that smile. It never changed throughout his life. There were always at least two girls who had crushes on him when we were kids because of it,” he says fondly, his mind going back to days that were long gone when Gabriel and he were still in school.

You chuckle lowly. “I can imagine it got him into some trouble with the girls,” you say, smiling, unable to stop yourself from also thinking of younger Miguel. You wonder what he was like when he was a teenager. You wonder if he also had girls crushing after him, and you are immediately confident he did. If Gabriel had the girls crushing, there was no doubt Miguel definitely did, too. You have never thought of Miguel in that way but even though you have never thought of him like that, it doesn’t mean you are blind. Miguel is an attractive man to say the least. People, mostly women but even some of the men in the Spider Society, talk about it sometimes. Even if you hadn’t noticed it yourself, you are sure you would’ve at one point with the questionable conversations you overheard sometimes in passing when colleagues thought they were being discreet, except they weren’t.

“Believe me, it did. I once had to come to his rescue because this girl’s boyfriend thought he was flirting with her,” Miguel says, shaking his head, missing his brother. “But he wasn’t like that. He was a good person. A good man.”

Miguel thought of Gabriel when he allowed himself to think about the past. He loved his brother even when there were tensions between them.

“He was the better brother,” Miguel mutters. “He was kind. Unselfish.”

You can’t help but get hung up on the word “unselfish.” Did Miguel think he was selfish?

When he thought about Gabriel, Miguel couldn’t help but wonder what his little brother would have said about what he did. He was so selfless and compassionate. If there is a Heaven, Miguel fears that Gabriel must have disagreed with his decision. With what he did in Gabriella’s universe.

You sense a slight shift in Miguel’s mood, even when your mind is still stuck on the indication that Miguel feels like he was the selfish brother of the two. You feel the urge to keep the mood light. You don’t want to see Miguel sad or upset, so you speak up.

“He sounds like a wonderful person. I think I would’ve liked him a lot,” you start, looking at Gabriel’s photo before looking down at the yellow candy packs. “I see he and Gabriella liked the same candy,” you add softly, hoping to lighten his mood again.

Miguel, staring at his brother’s photo, briefly thinks about what you said, and he agrees. In fact, Miguel can’t help but think that Gabriel would have befriended you was he still alive. You were both warm and happy people. Unselfish, he thought again.

“Gabriel would have liked you,” Miguel says, knowing this is true. “I think you two would have been great friends,” he says pausing for a few seconds. “And yes – they’re called Pulparindos. It’s made from the pulp of tamarind fruit. Gabriel loved them. I swear he ate like four a day. He always had some with him,” Miguel says with an amused tone but there’s no smile on his face. “Imagine my surprise when I found out Gabriella also loved them,” he adds fondly.

You nod, that’s why both Gabriel and Gabriella had the same kind of candy then. You also feel somewhat pleased with the fact that Miguel thinks his brother would’ve liked you.  

“We would go to the store, and she always made a beeline for the candy aisle. I could never say no to her,” Miguel says, his voice still laced with that fondness as he thinks of the times they went to get groceries. “We made an agreement. She could have one piece of candy each day but no more. She always respected the deal.”

You stare at Gabriella’s photograph. She’s in the frame alone, smiling at the camera. Again, there’s that toothy smile you remember from weeks ago. Your heart aches for her. For Gabriel. For Miguel’s wife.

For Miguel… who didn’t have the luxury of visiting all his loved ones at the cemetery, you suddenly realize as the two of you remain kneeling on the floor. Miguel couldn’t visit his wife or Gabriella. There were no bodies to be buried. No funerals.

Your sudden realization cuts deep into your soul. You cannot imagine what you would do if you were in his shoes. If you didn’t have at least that small comfort of knowing that Peter rested somewhere in peace. Or the comfort of being able to visit him whenever you wanted or needed to. Or the comfort of talking to him, even when you know your stories are heard by silence.

Miguel had none of that when it came to Gabriella and his wife. Your heart feels heavy with pain for Miguel. You have never thought of this and to be honest, no one else has either. Miguel was expected to move on eventually but how could someone move on when they didn’t even have the chance to mourn properly? How could anyone move on when they didn’t have a place to visit their loved ones?

It has been those small things that you have taken for granted that have helped you during your mourning period. Those comforts that mostly everyone who loses a loved one has but for Miguel… it’s not true. He doesn’t have any of those comforts.

You feel the sudden urge, for the second time in months, to reach out for Miguel. You want to comfort him. You want to hold him in your arms and tell him how sorry you are that this has happened to him. That you are sorry that he has lost so many loved ones. That he lost his wife and Gabriella, his loving family.

You want to tell him that he deserves so much more. That he deserves a family and happiness. And that he’s not selfish for wanting these things. You want to hold Miguel, and take away his grief, sadness, guilt, and any other negative emotion he still carries with him.

You just want to comfort Miguel.

Your hand, which has been resting on your lap, rises slowly, involuntarily, in Miguel’s direction. You freeze for about two seconds, realizing what you are about to do. You bring your hand back to your lap discreetly, or at least you hope it was discreetly.  

You cannot comfort Miguel in the way that you usually comfort people because he doesn’t do physical touch. No matter how badly you want to rest your hand over his and let the gesture speak for itself, you know you can’t. Or rather, shouldn’t. You don’t dare break his boundary line as you return your attention to Gabriella’s photo.

Beside you, Miguel also stares at his daughter’s photo. His mind has paused the memories and instead, is overtaken by the fact that you were reaching for him just seconds ago. He didn’t fail to see the way you stopped yourself. He senses it’s not because of impropriety or even changing your mind about it but for another reason.

As Miguel stares at Gabriella’s photo, he wonders how you know. Perhaps it was Jess, he realizes. Perhaps she mentioned that he cannot do physical touch these days. And you, as always, respected his space. He silently appreciates your respect and the fact that you wanted to comfort him. He sighs softly. It’s been so long since he has been comforted by someone physically.

The last time he felt another person’s skin was… with you, he realizes, remembering the day he checked up on you. That day, for once, he allowed his hand to be bare so he could feel your face, to check if you were running a fever. That was the first time he had felt another person’s skin in a really long time, and there hadn’t been any other instances since then. He remembers how natural it had felt to press his hand to your forehead regardless.

Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears your stomach grumble, making him turn to you. He narrows his eyes slightly as you slowly look at him.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

You shake your head, embarrassed, thinking about how you had an early dinner and that was hours ago.  “No. I ate something a few hours ago. It was just my stomach being – weird,” you say softly and Miguel stares down at you, knowing you’re lying.

Before you know it, he gets up with ease. “Hold on,” he says walking away and around his platform.

You wait there, not knowing where he’s going on, or what he’s doing. It’s a few minutes later that Miguel returns. You hear his footsteps and turn around to find Miguel carrying two cups and two plastic bags hanging from his right wrist. Noticing your furrowed brows at the sight, Miguel walks over to you and hands you one of the cups.

You immediately feel the warmth of the drink before the scent of coffee fills your nostrils when you take the cup from his hand. You look up at Miguel, with curious eyes but he doesn’t say anything as he kneels next to you again, this time much closer than before, you notice. Miguel places his own cup to the side before he pulls the plastic bags off his wrist.

“I only made enough of the food for them…” Miguel says, pausing and nodding at the plates with food. “But I did get extra of this,” he says, opening one of the bags and showing you.

You catch a glimpse of pan dulce, which you have tried before. You meet his eyes again as he moves the bag closer to you. He motions for you to get some.

“I know you’re hungry,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “Please.”

You feel reluctant but then again, the pan dulce looks too appetizing to say no to. You nod slowly and reach into the bag, grabbing a pink, round seashell like piece of pan dulce.

“Those are called conchas,” Miguel says as he sees what you chose. He turns to the ofrenda. “Gabriel and Gabriella loved those. Especially the pink ones.”

You turn to the ofrenda, returning your attention to the pink conchas you noticed earlier on Gabriel and Gabriella’s sections.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, holding the cup of coffee and pan dulce, feeling embarrassed. You wonder if this is how Miguel felt the first couple of times you took him coffee and then in the last couple of weeks food.  

Miguel’s head turns to the side to look at you. “You’re welcome,” he says softly before he, too, grabs a concha.

He looks away from you as he breaks a piece of the pan dulce to make you feel comfortable. He knows you were lying to hide the embarrassment of your hunger, so he turns away to give you space. He brings a small piece of the concha to his mouth, the pan dulce reminding him of his childhood when his mother made hot chocolate for Gabriel and him. Miguel remembers how Gabriel and him always looked forward to autumn and winter because the food was better. They got hot chocolate with pan dulce; tamales of all kinds, including his favorite ones, which were the sweet ones back then because he loved the sweetness of them and the fact that his mother added food coloring to make them colorful; they also got buñuelos, and pozole amongst other delicious foods.

Miguel brings the piece of pan dulce to his mouth as he thinks of the past, of his childhood. He didn’t think too often about it but when he did, he tried to only think of the memories that included Gabriel. He didn’t like to think of other memories that included the man he once thought was his father. The same man whose last name Miguel still holds to this day. Other memories included his mother as well. Some were from the early days of his life and then from her last years when they had grown closer once there were no more secrets and lies between them.

It was just his mother and Gabriel. Neither his stepfather nor biological father were thought of. Nor were they on his ofrenda. He couldn’t bring himself to add them to the ofrenda that was for those he loved and cherished dearly. Those he missed.

“That was my mother,” Miguel suddenly says once he finishes eating the small piece of concha, remembering he hasn’t talked about her. “Her name was… Conchata.”

You finish chewing the small piece of bread you, too, broke off. You nod. “She was beautiful,” you say as you turn your attention to her photograph. You can see Miguel got a lot of her features, as did Gabriel. You don’t say anything about the fact that there’s no sign of his father, not knowing Miguel had a stepfather as well.

“She was… We didn’t have the best relationship for some time, but things changed in her last years. It was often a problem between Gabriel and I in those years. He always tried to remain neutral. I, on the other hand…” Miguel trails off, thinking of the past. “I distanced myself from her for some time until we resolved our issues.”

You frown a little. Is this why he thought Gabriel was better? Because Gabriel remained neutral in whatever problems Miguel and Conchata had? Despite Miguel indicating that he isn’t as good as Gabriel, even saying he distanced himself from his mother in a negative tone, you can’t bring yourself to think of him any less. You have no right to begin with. You don’t know what happened between them. There’s so much that you still don’t know about Miguel. So much he might never reveal. Either way, you don’t care.

“We all have our reasons for what we do,” you finally say, thinking this was the best neutral thing to say. “You had your reasons for distancing yourself.”

Miguel nods, appreciating your response. “I did,” he says simply, thinking about those reasons. Thinking about the abuse from his stepfather that his mother allowed. About the manipulation. The lies.

He has never shared his past with anyone. The only person that knew of it has passed away, taking those memories with him to the grave. Gabriel. Miguel doesn’t know if he will ever share that. He put it in the past for the most part.

However, he couldn’t help but feel that if he ever shared his past… it would be with you but not tonight. At least not all of it.

Miguel clears his throat. “I had a stepfather and of course, a biological father but I wasn’t close to either of them. They have both passed away, too.”

You notice a slight change of tone. It’s laced with resentment. You put your cup of coffee down.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you say gently. “Tonight, is for them, right?” you ask softly, motioning to the ofrenda.

Miguel nods. “Yes, but I know the other members talk. About my past. About my family.”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. That’s how you found out about what happened in Gabriella’s universe and what happened with Miles. It turns out that despite being superheroes and being part of a professional superhero society, its members were not immune to gossip.

“I didn’t have a good relationship with either of them. That’s why they’re not on the ofrenda,” Miguel continues, feeling like he wanted to get it out of his chest for once.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you reply, and Miguel nods.

“It’s in the past now. I just wanted to say it – since my mother is on it. And again, I know people talk.”

You nod, feeling sad that Miguel feels the need to share his past life. “Please know that you never have to explain yourself. It’s your life, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation,” you say, surprising yourself with your words and tone but you hope you make your point clear. He shouldn’t feel pressured to share anything just to satisfy people’s curiosity. “But thank you – for trusting me enough to share that with me,” you add, softly again.

Miguel feels stunned by your words, especially your change of tone. It almost felt like you were scolding him. He can’t help but feel comforted while also amused by it. He feels his lips curl upward as he looks down at you. You notice it, of course. The slight curling of his lips. Did you almost make Miguel smile?

You can’t help but stare at his mouth. You have seen his smile in a photograph before and it was… beautiful. You remember the spark in his eyes as he smiled. His smile was such a sight it made you wonder what it would be like to see it in person. You can’t help but feel selfish at this moment. You want – need – to see Miguel O’Hara smile.  

You want to see him happy because he deserves it.

You meet his eyes and offer him a small smile, feeling happy that you almost made him smile but Miguel surprises you. Miguel, for once,returns a genuine, small smile.

Miguel O’Hara, founder and commander of the Spider Society, your boss, is smiling at you.

You feel like your breath has caught in your throat suddenly. Miguel is smiling at you. It’s a small one but it’s a smile. You stare at it and meet his eyes. The moment feels much longer than it lasts but in a good way. You abruptly look down at your piece of pan dulce, feeling like you are overwhelmed by the sight of Miguel’s smile. You can’t comprehend your emotions, so you take a piece of pan dulce and change the subject.

“This is really good. Thank you,” you tell him, looking up at him again.

The smile is gone but there’s still a hint of it on his face as he looks down at his own piece of pan dulce. His mood is lighter, indicating that the resentment you detected earlier about his fathers is gone. You realize he found your sudden change of tone, which you now realize may have come off as scolding, amusing and you don’t mind it.

“Glad you liked it,” he says with a tone you can’t pinpoint right now as his smile is still flashing in your mind. “And thank you. For your words,” Miguel adds, meaning it.

You nod at him and take another bite of your concha, thinking. You are never going to forget this night.

The two of you continue to kneel on the floor but it feels like your distance has decreased somehow. You can feel his body warmth much closer as you eat pan dulce and hot coffee. The lab is silent and mostly dark around the two of you, but you find yourselves in a peaceful and comforting silence as the scent of marigold flowers and coffee fills your nostrils. The soft flickering of the candles on the ofrenda creates a warm and soothing mood, spreading that warmness to the two of you on this cold November night.

It is a beautiful moment, shared by two people who understand each other on many levels. It is a moment that will pass, like every other moment you have shared so far but just like the rest, it will be a moment the two of you will look back on. It is a moment that only the two of you will know of as there is an unspoken agreement these moments were for yourselves only.

Miguel eats his piece of bread, quietly. He’s thinking about your reaction to him smiling. It makes him feel a mix of emotions. Was the sight of him smiling, even if it was a small smile, so surprising? Of course, he knows he doesn’t smile much these days, but your reaction makes him feel like the sight of it is a once in a lifetime moment. That was one emotion.

Another emotion is… what is the word? His emotions and thoughts are a bit out of place tonight, making it harder to think but he feels… satisfaction? Is that the right word he’s looking for? The point is that he found some joy in seeing your surprise, and your sudden – was it shyness? Was the sight too much for you that you had to look away and change the subject?

Miguel takes a sip of his coffee as he thinks about how he liked your reaction to him smiling, no matter how small it was. He sets the cup down and looks at the other plastic bag he brought with him. He picks it up, remembering.

“There’s candy here, too,” Miguel says opening it.

You finish eating your piece of bread, making a note to look for some pan dulce in your own universe because it was wonderful, as you turn your attention to the bag. You’re still thinking of Miguel smiling. You watch as Miguel pulls out different candy, holding so much in one hand because of its size.  

He shows you the candy, and you recognize it from the ofrenda. He extends his arm out to you, offering you candy. You look up at him.

“What do you recommend?” you ask, and he begins to tell you what each candy is, even when you recognize some of it from trying it before.

You eventually go for a clown lollipop, which makes Miguel raise his eyebrow slightly.

“What? It has three things. Marshmallow on the inside, chocolate on the outside, and gummies,” you say giving him a small smile.

“You got a point,” Miguel says, grabbing one himself.

The two of you open your clown lollipops. You look at your own, noticing the gummies’ placement on the lollipop, which are supposed to signify the eyes and mouth, are crooked, looking nothing like the picture on the wrapping. You frown a little but shrug.

Next to you, Miguel stifles a low chuckle, noticing your frown at the appearance of your lollipop. He shows you his.  

“The thing about these is that they never look like the picture on the wrapper,” he says quietly as you look at his crooked lollipop.

You chuckle, noticing his has the mouth upside down. “I was a little disappointed but I’m pretty sure the taste is going to make up for it,” you say, looking at it before you take a bite, making sure to go around the gummies.

Miguel watches, wanting to see your reaction. You chew the small piece you bit off, the chocolate and marshmallow melting in your mouth. Miguel sees the pleasant look on your face.

“Oh wow, this is – I think I’m in trouble,” you say, taking another small bite, still going around the gummies, deciding you’re going to leave them for last.

Miguel raises an eyebrow as he, too, takes a bite of his, also going around the gummies, as you mention being in trouble. You finish eating and look over at him.

“I used to have a sweet tooth. I think this is going to make me return to my bad ways,” you explain as you take another bite.

Miguel feels like smiling again as he sees you go for another bite. He also notices that you left the gummies for last, which reminds him of Gabriella because she used to do the same thing when he bought these lollipops for her.

The two of you spend another hour sharing candy and Miguel tells you about each one. Miguel eats the same candy you choose each time, as if he was trying it for the first time as well. He pays attention to your reactions, noticing which candy leaves the best impression on you. He also shares bits and pieces of Gabriella’s liking for a specific kind of candy. You listen intently when he speaks, appreciating his openness with you. You notice there’s no sadness as he speaks fondly of her. At least not tonight.

“I guess we’re not sleeping tonight,” he mutters as the two of you are now sitting, still on the floor, facing the ofrenda.

It’s past midnight now and the two of you have eaten quite a bit of candy, plus you had that cup of coffee. You both feel awake and alert.

“I don’t think I was planning on sleeping early, anyway,” you say quietly, staring at the flickering candles.

Miguel leans back on his hands, stretching his back slightly. The two bags he bought earlier are between you. The plastic wrappers from the candy you two ate are in a neat pile.

“You were doing chores,” he says, remembering you had mentioned that when he arrived.

You nod. “I had some random chores that I meant to do over the week but didn’t get to.”

“I’ve been keeping you busy with missions,” he says, looking at the photos of his loved ones.

You chuckle lightly. “It’s just the life of a superhero.”

Miguel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. When he lived in Gabriella’s world, he took every chore in the house. He cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, dishes, cut the lawn, and many other chores on top of being a father and a superhero. There were days when it all felt like too much, especially when he was unable to complete some of those chores when his superhero duty called. When he felt like that, when it was all too much, he just reminded himself that it didn’t matter. It was okay if the lawn grew a bit tall. It was okay if he got behind a day or two on laundry. It was okay as long as it meant he got to spend time with Gabriella. Her happiness and comfort were his top priority, and if he had to choose which he often did, between doing laundry or sitting on Gabriella’s bedroom floor playing with dolls because she asked him to join her, he always chose spending time with her.

The satisfaction of done laundry, or a clean sink, never compared to Gabriella’s smiles and laughs. If he could pay to hear her laugh live again, Miguel would give up everything he owned. Even if it was just one more time.

Miguel sighs softly, thinking of Gabriella. Memories of them playing on her bedroom floor flash through his mind. He can hear her voice and laugh. He remembers the way it felt to hold her in his arms. He remembers the nights he had to find a way to fit in her tiny bed to comfort her because she had nightmares. He’d lay there for hours, even if his muscles were tired. Even when his body desperately wanted to stretch to ease the tension, he laid there, guarding her sleep. He remembers the natural father instinct that surged through him. It was as if he had been meant to be a father his whole life.

As Miguel stares at the ofrenda, his eyes fall on the toys, and he silently prays that Gabriella visited him on this Dia de los Muertos. He prays that she forgave him for lying. For replacing her biological father. He prays that she found joy in the toys and food.

“Perdóname, mija.”

“Do you – do you mind telling me more about her?” you ask in a whisper, noticing Miguel’s lingering eyes on his deceased daughter’s photograph. You don’t know what gave you the confidence to ask that and you quickly add, “I’m sorry, I – you don’t have to. I don’t know what came over me.”

Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down at you. Your eyes meet. He’s quiet for a few seconds but his face is calm. He doesn’t look upset, and he’s not. He’s glad you asked. He’s just surprised and comforted by how you asked. It’s strange. Sometimes he feels like you grieve with him. He sees it in your eyes and detects it in your words and tone. He has never felt like anyone could share his grief. Until you. You didn’t even know Gabriella or his wife, or that version of himself.

Regardless of that fact, Miguel feels like you grieve with him. As if you grieve the opportunity of knowing them and a life he no longer has.

Miguel nods at last. “Gabriella…”

And so, the two of you spend another hour or so together in his lab. Miguel O’Hara begins to talk about his daughter and it’s like a door opens. His memories pour out of him, and you listen intently, nodding. He talks about the times she was sick, the time she fell from a swing and the scraped knee afterward, about her playing with dolls and him having to change his voice to be in character. He talks about the car rides back home after soccer matches and how Gabriella would be filled with energy the first fifteen minutes before she passed out asleep, exhausted from the game and her excitement from winning. He tells you so much than the last time. So much more, that you feel like you knew Gabriella yourself. You smile tenderly as Miguel talks about her in a way that just enforces how great of a father he was.

It's a while later when the two of you get up from the floor. You help him clean up, despite his protests. The two of you stand in front of the ofrenda for a few minutes, in silence afterward. You finally turn your head towards him, looking up at him. He notices and looks down at you, meeting your gaze.

“Thank you. I know this isn’t easy,” you say quietly, and he nods slowly.

You wish you could say more. Again, you feel that rush of emotions for this man. You wish you could tell him that he deserves happiness. That he deserves so much more…

“Thank you for coming,” he replies, and you nod with a small smile because you feel that that’s the only thing you can do.

You fall into silence again for a few seconds before you sigh softly.

“I should probably head back now,” you say, looking down at your gizmo to check the time.

Miguel also checks his gizmo, surprised. It’s very late. When he finished setting up the ofrenda and was ready to travel to your universe to invite you, he had no intention of keeping you up this late. He thought it would be an hour or so. Instead, the two of you have spent the last three hours on the floor eating pan dulce and candy, with him talking and sharing details of his life.

For a brief moment, Miguel tries to imagine doing this with someone else. He can’t. No one else pops into his head, for the two of you speak so differently when you are alone. You understand each other.

Miguel finally nods. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

You shake your head with a smile. “Don’t apologize. As I said, I was going to stay up to do some chores but…” you trail off and try to put your thoughts together without them coming off wrong. You want to say that you much prefer this. Spending time with him. Keeping each other company. How can you say that without it coming off wrong? You look away from his gaze for a few seconds, trying to think of how to word this and simply having no idea how to do so without giving the wrong impression. You shake your head softly at yourself, feeling silly for being unable to pull your thoughts together. You meet his eyes again, which have been on you this whole time. Miguel can see that you’re struggling to find a way to say what’s on your mind. It makes him want to know even more what you’re thinking.

“What I’m trying to say is that – I’m here,” you finally say and immediately feel like that was not the best way to say it, but it is also not the worst. “I’m here – for you.”

And I don’t mind stopping what I’m doing to be there for you, you silently think but can’t voice that part out loud.

Miguel stares down at you, your words echoing in his head. You’re here… for him. And he knows you mean it as your eyes meet. Miguel gives you a soft nod, his eyes show appreciation.

“Thank you…” he says, with a warm feeling in his chest.

You nod and give him another smile, seeing that appreciative look in his eyes. That will have to do. Maybe in the future you can say more but for tonight, that will have to do.

Miguel wants to say the same to you, but he can’t. The words get caught in his throat. He looks at the plastic bags from earlier. He pulls out two chocolate lollipops and some of the other candy he saw you liked the most, not fully realizing that he perfectly remembers this information. He looks at the bag with pan dulce. There are only two pieces of bread left. He extends his arms, offering you the bag with bread and the candy. It’s his own way of reciprocating your words to him. You look up at him, a little surprised.

“Oh, thank you but you don’t have to do that,” you say not making a move to take the items.

He looks down at you. “I insist… please,” he says quietly with a firm yet breathy tone.

Noticing his tone, you nod slowly and take the items from his hands gently. Your bare fingers brush his suited palm and fingers as you take the individual pieces of candy. The sensation is almost ticklish to Miguel’s palm, but he keeps his hand steady. Once you have everything in your hands, you look up at him again and smile.

“There was no need for this but thank you.”

Miguel nods, wishing he could’ve done this on top of reciprocating your words. Maybe another time.

“I hope you enjoy the other pieces of bread,” he says softly.

“I have no doubt I will,” you reply, still smiling. There’s a few seconds of silence between the two of you before you speak again. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again… for everything.”

Miguel nods. “Thank you. I’ll see you later today,” he replies remembering it’s already early morning.

You nod one more time at him before you turn your eyes to the ofrenda. Your eyes fall on each photograph, and you say a silent goodbye to them. You don’t celebrate but you hope that they came to see Miguel tonight.

“Good night,” you finally say.

“Good night,” Miguel replies before you walk around the platform. Miguel remains standing in front of his ofrenda. He hears the multidimensional portal open nearby and then it’s quiet again. His eyes fall on each photograph, the flickering candles casting dancing shadows on his loved ones’ faces. He stands there for a few minutes, quietly thinking before he breaks the silence in his empty lab.

“I’m here for you, too...”

_________________

Translation for italicized words: Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Ofrenda - Altar for Day of the Death Pan Dulce - Sweet Bread (Mexican pastries) "Perdóname, mija" - "Forgive me, my daughter." Mija(o) is a combination of "Mi" and "Hija(o)"

For the other italicized food items mentioned by Miguel from his childhood and items described on Gabriella's ofrenda, you can find a food guide right here that I quickly put together.

--

Ok, so I just want to say sorry for the freaking LONG update. My jaw dropped when I checked the word count once I was done editing (no wonder it took me so long). I don't think any other part will be this long. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and that if you love autumn (like me) this brought you comfort. I'm done with this summer heat 😭

I also want to ask how would you guys feel about a short Christmas part? It wouldn't be super long but I thought of Miguel in Christmas time and I just - Imagine Miguel in a chunky cable knit turtle neck sweater!! (Screaming, crying) If not, it's okay. I already have the "next" part mapped out and... I'm not well thinking about it.

As always, thank you for the support. For the lovely comments and asks. Reading them makes me so happy. Thank you 🥹

I love Miguel,

Alondra

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[in-daddy-price-we-trust]

All I Wanted - Part 1

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence

Part 2

A/N: this is like my first fanfic in a while, and first on tumblr (yay!) any tips and tricks would be so helpful!

this also plans to be a series but posting might and will be inconsistent, thank you in advance!

You always had a difficult life. Being abused by your parents up until you ran away at 13. After you ran away, you got in with the wrong type of people, promises of hope and money, food and validation was all they needed to say to get you hooked in their business of organised crime. Some good came out of it however, they gave you a home and how to defend yourself. They taught you how to shoot a gun and the best place to make someone bleed. They taught you nothing else mattered except them, they became your new family.

You were 15 when you were tasked with transporting a couple crates of weaponry and drugs. The organisation you joined knew you well enough and practically raised you to be the strongest you were. So one cargo ship to Amsterdam later, you find yourself in a rotting, metal warehouse, wearing pink apparel, pink puffy skirt and a white hello-kitty shirt. A baby pink cardigan is draped over your shoulders and over-the-knee white knitted socks. A chrome covered knife strapped to your thigh.

“Zus, how much for it all?” he stood across from you, a cigarette lit between his lips taking a long drag as you assessed his question. His black, slicked back hair elongated his face and the three piece suit almost made this deal professional.

“How much are you offering?” was all you said as a small smile graced your lips, ‘the higher the offer, the better’ you remember being told before you left. They weren’t the best weapons but they were definitely worth at least a couple K.

“25”

a grimace, “80”

a growl, “40”

a hum, “55”

“65. Final offer,” his teeth were bared, almost like he was sweating already.

A sinister, sweet smile stretched across your face, “Wonderful, and how are you wanting to transfer that?” out of seemingly nowhere you pulled out a notepad and pen, writing down the bank details before you gave him a pointed look, “You have one week to transfer the money, or I will have your head.”

His face paled, almost embarrassingly so. For how innocent you appeared to be, you knew how to handle yourself in these situations. You turned to walk away, the sound of baby pink mary janes clacking against the concrete as you bounced towards the rusted metal doors, sliding them open as you looked back at the man one final time, “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” and leaving.

You were good at your job. It was easy, for the most part. Gather intel, pass forward that intel. Transfer somewhat illegal items from one holder to another. So it comes to you as a bit of a surprise when you exit through the dusty doors when a bullet wizzes past your face, luckily just missing you. Swiftly pulling out the hand-gun out your waistband and shooting in their direction. You wish you had your sniper, but it was left in the hotel room you managed to stay at.

As you shot in the direction of the fire, you failed to notice someone sneaking out behind you, kicking your knees in. Dirt caked your socks as the grip on your gun became loose. Acting as quick as possible, you flipped onto your back, retching the knife from its holster. Before you could act, black invaded your vision as you felt pain shoot from your head. Shit.

-

White light invaded your vision, a grumbled swear leaving your dry lips at the pounding in your head. "Jesus Christ," your wrists hurt, rubbed raw by the shitty metal handcuffs they strapped you in, "Whose bedroom did you get these out of? Couldn't even afford good quality cuffs?" fell out of your mouth before you could think to stop it. No one reacted.

It was a van, you could tell that much. The interior white with small wooden benches lining it. Two men sat on either side of you whilst the other two sat across. From what you could make out, another pair sat at the front, driving to this unknown destination.

Maybe you should have been more scared. More begging for them not to hurt you. Four big, burly military men could definitely kill you much easier than you kill them.

They studied you like you studied them. The one on your left was most likely the oldest, a fisherman's hat upon his head and mutton chops-moustache combo was the dead give away. He had his eyes closed and arms crossed across his chest, legs spread wide.

You couldn't make out the one on your right quite as well. A black balaclava with painted white skeletal teeth paired well with the upper half of the skull mask he wore. He seemed to be in a similar position as grandpa, although he had an ankle resting on his knee instead, head tilted back against the cool metal of the van.

The two across from you seemed younger. One had a darker complexion, his eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression. He was smaller than the rest but no doubtfully as strong.

Lastly was the man with a mohawk. His eyes bore into you the most, not so angry and more trying to figure out who you were. Breaking you apart and putting you back together with his eyes. Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. His face morphed into one of slight surprise before rolling his eyes and looking towards the front.

It was quiet. The hum from the light ticking like a clock in your ear. Trying to gauge where you were and how much time had passed, your foot started tapping on the floor.

"Stop," A gruff voice said suddenly making you jump before mumbling a sorry at the skull-faced man. It was quiet again. It numbed your senses, sending shivers down your spine. Gravel sounded under the tires before voices outside sounded, signalling your arrival.

The doors pulled open, sunlight shining in. As mohawk and shorty left, skully pulled your arm to tug you along out with him, a short yelp escaping past your lips at the action.

You tripped over your feet, pins and needles shooting up your legs from sitting for so long. "Can you be gentle?" you spoke as you found your footing, "Please?" it was tacked on at the end for at least the tiniest bit of sympathy.

Skully looked down at you as he continued to drag you towards what you hoped was a five-star hotel with bed and breakfast. At least your death would be a quick one.

The halls blurred together until you were sitting in a leather chair in someone's office, back to the door, although you felt the looming presence of the men behind you. Mutters were heard outside before the door clicked opened, footsteps and a click again.

Gramps stood in front of you, leaning over the dark stained oak table. He had a file in his hand, putting it on the desk before sliding it over to you. "What do you know of El Sin Nombre?" it wasn't as much of a question than you'd like but an order for information.

Your mouth was so dry it felt like you swallowed cotton. As much as you wished to answer him, you look at him with furrowed brows and a confused expression. It took you a couple minutes before words formed in your throat, "Who?".

He didn't enjoy that answer. One of his hands slapping on the desk as he seethed, repeating the question again as if that would change your answer.

"I don't know who that is! I can't help you," you felt that burning sensation under your eyes as you desperately tried to convey your emotions. Tears meant weakness, and that's the one thing you didn't want to show to your captors right now.

Pairs of eyes hammered into your head. You felt like a child again, staring down at your toes being told off for not doing the dishes or not being quick enough to grab a beer. You braced for the hits, the punches to your ribs as you made promises that fell on the deaf ears of your mother and father.

"Price," A voice sounded behind you, soft and comforting. An accent coated the words that flowed through the air you didn't pick up on. The more time passed the more your eyes stung, tears slipping past your defences. Shoulders shaking as you try to curl into yourself, strings of "I don't know" and "I'm sorry" being nothing more than mumbles.

The room grew cold and quiet as you sobbed. Footsteps couldn't be heard over your own cries, so when an arm wrapped around your shoulders, you jolted. Expecting this is where you get hit. Bracing for the impact and sting they usually brought with them.

Instead, the arm pulled you into their chest, hugging you close and stroking your hair, along with shushing you softly. It only made you sob harder. When was the last time someone hugged you like this? Sure, you got the occasional pat on the back for a job well done, but never an embrace like this.

Time passed through your fingers like sand, not knowing how long you sat there for before you calmed down. The arms didn't pull away until you did, cringing at the wet patch you left on the man's shirt. Speaking of, you looked up to see mohawk looking down at you, eyes soft and an equally soft smile. "Y're alright now lass?" his accent leaked into the words, a curt nod allowing him to pull away and stand up again.

A heavy sigh sounded above you as you dragged your eyes up to meet who you presumed was this 'Price' figure. "What’s your name?"

Gears turned over the question in your head, thinking of an answer. Technically, you lost your name when you left home, gaining a couple new names at the gang.

Your silence was taken for an answer. "What are you doing in Amsterdam?" this you could answer.

"A business exchange. I'm just the messenger, I don't know any of the customers - I promise! - I just get the money and dip. I promise I can't help you-" you were hyperventilating at this point.

"It's alright sweetheart, deep breaths, calm down for me, yeah?" Price's voice was gentle now, seemingly not wanting the same thing to happen.

"Can you tell us where you're from? Who you work for?" He asked once he saw you calm down.

"Uhm- I'm from England. And I don't really work for them but I'm a doberman. They're some organisation that took me in," you weren't really interested in going into full depths of your life with these complete strangers.

Although, you felt the gazes lift off you and onto Price, his own eyes looking back at his men, a million silent conversations happening right above your head. Price inhaled sharply before he asked his last question, "How old are?"

"15." The air knocked out of his lungs.

[theambitiouswoman]

How To Spot Opportunities

Opportunities are all around us, waiting to be recognized and seized. In conversation, in something you see, even in your own thoughts. Learning how to spot opportunities can lead you to growth and success. People often tend to overlook them, believing that they only come to certain people. The truth is that opportunities are available to everyone. We just need to change our perspective and learn how to identify them.

The Mindset:

Openness to Possibilities: Adopt a mindset that looks for possibilities in any situation. Instead of focusing solely on obstacles, view every challenge as an opportunity to innovate and grow. This shift in perspective opens the door to potential breakthroughs.

Adaptability: Being flexible and adaptable is key to spotting opportunities. Embrace change and be willing to venture outside your comfort zone. Adaptability helps you see potential where others might only see disruptions.

Positive Attitude: A positive attitude can work wonders in identifying opportunities. When you maintain optimism, you're more likely to recognize the silver lining in challenging circumstances, leading to the discovery of new pathways.

Always Learning: Embrace a curious mindset. Continuing to learn exposes you to new ideas and helps you stay ahead in a rapidly changing world, enabling you to recognize emerging opportunities before others do.

Examples of Spotting Opportunities:

The Airbnb Story: In 2008, two struggling entrepreneurs, Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia, saw a unique opportunity in the midst of a sold-out conference in their city. With hotels fully booked, they decided to rent out air mattresses in their living room, turning their apartment into an "air bed and breakfast." This marked the inception of Airbnb, which has since become a multi-billion dollar global enterprise, disrupting the hospitality industry.

From Hobby to Empire: Many successful businesses have started as hobbies. For example, Dov Charney, the founder of American Apparel, began making simple t-shirts for himself. When people showed interest in his designs, he realized the opportunity to create a clothing brand that offered stylish basics, catapulting his hobby into a thriving fashion empire.

Turning Failure into Success: Walt Disney's first animation studio went bankrupt. While many would have given up, Disney saw an opportunity to learn from his mistakes and create a new, revolutionary entertainment venture. The result? The birth of Mickey Mouse and the eventual establishment of the global Disney empire.

Networking: Opportunities often lie within our social circles. A chance encounter at a networking event led to the founding of YouTube when Steve Chen, Chad Hurley, and Jawed Karim connected with early PayPal employees who provided funding for their video-sharing platform.

You can train yourself to spot opportunities in the most unexpected places. The examples shared above show that success often comes from recognizing potential in everyday situations.

How to train your mind to spot opportunities:

1. Actively Listen: Listen to what the other person is saying. Avoid interrupting or preoccupying your mind with what you will say next. Paying full attention allows you to pick up on cues, insights, and potential areas of mutual interest.

2. Identify Pain Points: While you are listening, look for challenges or frustrations the other person may mention.These pain points could represent opportunities for you to provide a solution or offer assistance.

3. Explore people's Interests: Discover the other person's passions and interests. You might find common ground, or their interests might spark ideas for potential collaborations or projects.

4. Ask Questions: Ask open-ended questions that encourage the other person to share more about themselves and their goals. Ask them about their aspirations and how they plan to achieve them. Seeing how people arrive from one point to another will better help you exercise your minds and use problem solving strategies as a way of looking at things moving forward.

5. Be Curious: Approach conversations with a curious and open mindset. Be receptive to new ideas and different perspectives.

6. Networking: Use conversations as an opportunity to network and build relationships. Meaningful connections often lead to new opportunities down the road, whether it's a job opportunity, collabs, or a chance to participate in new projects.

7. Body Language: Pay attention to non-verbal cues and body language. Sometimes, opportunities can be inferred from the other person's gestures, expressions, or tone of voice.

8. Problem-Solving and Offering Help: If the conversation veers towards a problem the other person is facing, think about how you might be able to help.

9. Be Proactive: Don't be afraid to share your own aspirations and ideas during the conversation. Sometimes, expressing your interests and goals can lead you to opportunities when the other person sees potential in working with you in some capacity.

10. Following-Up and Staying Connected: After a productive conversation, make an effort to follow up and stay connected. This can potentially lead to more opportunities as you continue to build a better relationship with the other person.

[lovewardeath]

My Pagan Veiling Tips!

This is my personal tips, if you find that something else works with you, then stick with it, this is just what works for me, and if you find it works, great! Also anyone can veil, remember that.

1. Good quality veils usually are from Muslim shops, here are some I personally use: sunnahstyle.com, hautehijab.com, bazaralhaya.com.

2. Invest in a good undercap (hair net or underscarf) especially if you plan on not showing any hair, I recommend haute hijab or sunnah style for the best undercaps.

3. Scarf magnets are a Godsend! The websites I recommended have good magnetic strength & are inexpensive! Sunnah Style are the cheapest!

4. Rectangle veils are more versatile than square scarves. If you plan on doing many styles, rectangle are the way to go. If you want simple, stick with square.

5. Woven, Chiffon, Mehdina Silk, or other light fabrics are best during Hot weather seasons. Jersey fabric is best for cold weather seasons.

6. Reminder, soft and light fabrics are more likely to slip, so wearing an undercap or magnets will help make the veil stay in place. Heavier fabrics like jersey will usually stay in place, but use magnets if you are in cold season, if you want your scarf to stay snug.

7. Light fabrics are usually less opaque, so folding it will make it least see through. Or simply wear an undercap will help with the opaqueness.

8. Etsy is best for printed veils, otherwise Haute Hijab has a great selection of printed fabrics. But remember, they only have Woven, Pleated, & Chiffon printed fabrics on their website.

9. I recommend SunnahStyle for face veils, mainly since I only bought them from that website, they have many types and colors: half veil, one layer, two layer, three layer, no-pinch (for people who wear glasses or just don’t like the pinching regular veils give), buttoned veils, etc.

10. You will probably get mistaken as a Muslim when wearing these styles, even though there’s historical evidence of the veil belonging in many practices. If you are uncomfortable with the association, I would recommend buying religious symbols or pins to put on your scarves to help differentiate you.

11. Remember, do not overdo yourself. Even wearing the lightest of fabrics, if you are in hot weather, you will still heat up. Please don’t overheat yourself, it’s okay to take off your scarves. Or invest in a portable fan, and drink lots of water to prevent heat exhaustion. Especially if you take meds that make you susceptible to heat.

12. The Gods will not be angry with you if you have to take off your veil, they understand that you are human and that you need to take care of yourself first.

These are some of my tips, if you have any questions, don’t feel afraid to ask or reach out to me. I hope this helps you on your journey!

Here’s the @ I promised when I posted this: @mikeyanderson97

[mythaura-blog]

Development Update - October 2024

Hi folks, Miyazaki here bringing you an update for Mythaura's development for the month of October! We've got some species change mechanics, super cute expressions for Hippogriffs, a rich new color for your beast creations, the Ko-fi results for the Fall Quarter Ko-fi Rewards, and some astrology.

Additionally: Koa, Sark, and I have been very busy the past month scoping out the remainder of the work that needs to be done in order to support Mythaura's initial launch. We're building in plenty of buffer to account for any unforeseen work that will need doing as well as any issues that may crop up.

We're really buckling down to get Mythaura to a point where we can bring in our Beta testers and get this game into a playable state. We've come a long way in our development journey and are so thankful to have had you all along for the ride.

Changing Species: Soulshift Coins

One of our biggest goals with Mythaura is to grant users the ability to customize their Beasts to be exactly what you want them to be. To that end, we've created our species-changing items: Soulshift Coins.

Functionality

There will be one coin for each species; Tier 1 Beasts (Griffins, Unicorns, Dragons) will have bronze coins, Tier 2 Beasts (Quetzals, Kirins, and Hippogriffs) will have silver coins, and Tier 3 Beasts (Ryus, Perytons, and Basilisks) will have gold coins. We are also planning to have a Jade Soulshift Coin, which would randomize the species of the Beast that it is used on.

These single-use items will change a Beast's species, so long as they are not in a Wild Area or in battle. They can be used on both young and adult Beasts. They can also be used on expecting Beasts, but will not impact the species of the unborn offspring.

Immediately upon use, the Beast will have their secondary Element changed to match the new species (if applicable). All Skill Tree points are reset and all equipped glamours and apparel not supported by the new species will automatically be uneqipped and sent back to the player's inventory.

Acquisition

All Soulshift Coins will be obtainable with in-game currency. Access to the different tiers will be tied to the New Game cycle that the player is in:

Players in the base New Game will be able to purchase Soulshift Coins for the Tier 1 species

Players in New Game+ will be able to purchase Soulshift Coins for Tier 1 and Tier 2 species

Players in New Game+2 and beyond will be able to purchase Soulshift Coins for Tier 1, Tier 2, and Tier 3 species

Tier 2 and Tier 3 Soulshift Coins will also be available through other gameplay means, like Seasonal rewards and the Weekend Traveler's inventory. Soulshift Coins that show up in the Weekend Traveler's inventory may end up being purchased with premium currency. We're still figuring out the details there, but rest assured that there will be multiple ways for players to acquire these species-changing items!

New Expressions: Hippogriffs

Koa and our talented art team have wrapped up drawing each of our available Specials, Supers, and Mutations on the expressions for both the young and adult Hippogriffs. These headshots will appear whenever a Hippogriff shows up in dialogue.

New Color: Porphyry

Named for the igneous rocks that they resemble, our color wheel's newest addition, Porphyry, is a rich red-brown with purple highlights. We encourage you to play around in the Beast Creator to come up with some fun new Beast designs!

Ko-fi Fall Quarter 2024 Winners

Thank you to all the Ko-fi sponsors who voted for the Fall Quarter 2024 rewards. Next month we will show the finalized artwork for the Inhabited Skull Companion and the Diaphonized Ryu Glamour. Stay tuned!

Mythauran Astrology: November

The month of November is referred to as Deepfrost's Current, representing the powerful and dangerous currents coursing beneath the ice floes that form to bridge the mainland to the stony islands off the coast. This month is also associated with the constellation of the Reaver and the chrysocolla stone.

Mythaura V0.33

Created functionality for species change items

Added functionality for 8 out of 12 ailments

Ongoing work implementing skill functionality

Refactored passive effects, splitting them into "battle effects" and "passive effects"

Added ailment display to battle front end

Added passive effect display to battle front end

Added checks that prevent certain game actions from occurring while in a wild area or in battle

Added temporary health, armor, and shield to beast stat bars

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord.

[thesoftboiledegg]

I went to the smaller mall a couple of weeks ago. The head shop didn't have new Rick and Morty merchandise, but the employee gave me a free snack: crunchy biscuits in chocolate and cream!

Nothing in Rue 21, Hot Topic or the nerdy store, either. I was starting to lose hope until I spotted a new holographic sign in Spencer's. Seasons 1-3 still dominate merchandise, but we're slowly catching up to season six.

Marshall's also had a pair of psychedelic boxers.

That same day, I planned to visit another head shop in the area. Unfortunately, I didn't know that a car cruise was happening on the same street, so I ended up getting stuck in nightmare traffic until I turned around and went home.

The new Tesla location was also open and showing off their vehicles. Cybertrucks are uglier in person.

A week later, I decided to give the head shop another shot. This time, the road was clear. They had a couple of items:

Initially, I passed over the coloring book, thinking it was the same book that I photographed a while back. But I opened the book and found new illustrations from seasons 4-6, including some of my favorite scenes and episodes!

Yes, I like the stupid slut dragon episode.

Anyway, this weekend brought a shock: RUE 21 IS CLOSING! 😭 OK, I wasn't that shocked because this mall is notorious for driving stores out of business, but now the closest Rue 21 is an hour away. And that's not very close!

It's probably just a matter of time before the entire mall shuts down. But in the meantime, Hot Topic had a new shirt, which surprised me because they don't get new Rick and Morty merchandise very often:

I'm glad we're getting more season five apparel, but come on, where's the Crow Witch Rick shirt? Bruce Chutback gets a shirt, but not him? Mr. Nimbus spooking Phoenix Person is pretty funny, though.

And another sign in Spencer's!

One of the nerdy stores had a stack of comics. I love this Summer (variant?) cover.

And, finally, a visit to the bigger mall today resulted in this sign.

So far, it's been a slow year for Rick and Morty apparel. Merchandising usually explodes around Christmas, but before then, we might be limited to the occasional mug, shirt or metal sign.

Or maybe they're getting ready to unleash a barrage of Crow Witch Rick T-shirts and hoodies...right?

[secretsandwriting]

Part Four: Flirting Attempts: Part 1

The Edutzal. 

A species known for their ruthlessness and destruction. With an unimaginable amount of strength and power they were a species you didn't want the attention of, so why were there three of them spotted on Earth.

Previous -- Masterlist -- Next

Translation List

“As for the new thing we teased last week,” Bruce paused, giving the reporters watching a dramatic moment to play later. “Wayne Apparel and Beauty!” The screen behind him lit up with the logo and soon started showing the first products to be sold. Applause rose up from the crowd. While they were busy clapping, you, Ry, and Alistair stepped up near Bruce. “Wayne Apparel and Beauty will have new designs for any and all occasions. All high quality and affordable clothes and all vegan and cruelty free beauty.”

“The head designer and Director of the fashion department is Y/n L/n!” You stepped forwards and smiled and nodded to the crowd. Ready to be done with the press part.

“The head designer and Director of the Shoe and Accessories Department is Alistair Lockman.” Alistair stepped up next to you and copied your smile and nod move.

“The head creator and director of the beauty department, Ry Vondervan.” She stepped up to Alistair, what a group you were, just smiling and nodding. As long as it worked you didn’t really care. 

After the General announcement, Bruce introduced all three lines of clothes, three lines of accessories and shoes, and three lines of beauty. Thankfully instead of having to answer a million and ten questions, Bruce had you three make a qna sheet for each department that were handed out. The last thing for the press conference was revealing that the site would go live at midnight and sales would be open then.

Of course you were still bombarded with questions after the press conference but it was better than answering everything up front. 

“Y/n, Alistair, Ry!” Damian called out, playing up the thirteen year old act. He gave all of you a hug. “Thanks again for last week!” Dick came up behind him. 

“Yes! Thank you for helping him last week! I hope he didn’t cause any problems for the three of you. His eyes never left Alistair despite addressing all of you. 

“Damian, lets go get a drink.” You winked at Ry and brought Damian with you to leave Alistair with Dick.

“Well that was easy.” Damian Muttered. “He hasn’t let me out of his sight since last week. If I had known it was this easy to lose him I would have stopped by your building ages ago.” YOu shared a smile with Ry over his head. He really was just a thirteen year old boy under all that training. It was quite endearing to see. 

“So what would you like to drink? Sparkling water, grape juice, sparkling grape juice?” Ry read off the options Damian could have. The entire time you and Ry took to chose and order your drinks, Damian whined about being able to handle alcohol but there was no way either of you would let him drink in your presence. 

“Well, Shame. I guess you’ll just have to go thirsty.” Damian sputtered at your tone before ordering himself one of the non alcoholic drinks. With your drinks in hand, you followed Damian to what he claimed was the best place to watch.

While you were enjoying the decorations to the ballroom, Tim came hunting for Damian, saying it was his bedtime. Damian did his plan of action which was moving behind Ry so Tim got distracted. It worked. With tha, Damian was pulling you along to a different location in hopes Tim would be too distracted to come looking for him again.

10 minutes into your new spot, Jason came and you were thrown under the bus and into a conversation while Damian made his escape.

“You look amazing tonight.” Jason’s eyes flickered over you, a smooth smirk resting on his lips. So Damian wasn’t exaggerating. 

“Thank you, you look quite nice yourself.” This was going to be interesting. 

“So how did you get into fashion?”

“I got into it from my grandmother. She always loved other culture’s styles and would bring new things home every trip. When she stopped taking trips, she would ask my parents to bring her things back from their trips.” More like she ripped the clothes off every ruler before destroying their planet to hang on her walls as trophies and you would study them in an attempt to figure out how they were made, but close enough you supposed. 

“Ah, so it runs in the family.” Not really but sure. 

“I guess you could say that.” He nodded and sipped his drink. You were really stretching the truth here.

“How long have you been in Gotham?” A change of subject thankfully. 

“About three years ago, I came here for university and haven’t left since. Now I’m at Wayne Enterprises for a while and don’t see that changing. 

“Where are you from?” SO many questions. 

“A small town in the middle of nowhere.” Jason nodded and leaned against the wall. His next question was interrupted by Alistair. 

“Y/n! Madison just called me, theres a problem. She says we need to come now, Bruce knows and Ry is on her way there already.” Alistair your savior. 

“Of course!” You turned back to Jason. “I’ll see you around.” Joining Alistair you followed him out the building.

“Do you know what it is?”

“She said there was a problem with manufacturing, but that's all she would say over the phone.”

Taglist:

@cipheress-to-k-pop

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

What do you think Asahi (and the other Karasuno members if you want) would do for y/n’s birthday?

(Totally not because it’s my birthday tomorrow and I love Asahi so much 🥺❤️❤️)

Omg happy birthday!! 🩷🩷 Hope you have a great one!! Here, hope you like these 🩷

Asahi would do his absolute best to make every birthday of yours special.

He loves you so much and he wants to see the biggest smile on your face.

He's very thoughtful and attentive so if you've ever mentioned you want something, however much in passing, he will remember that and make sure to get it for you.

There's also always a sentimental gift along with a material one. Could be a letter, could be a handwritten note along with a framed picture of the two of you. Something that's very sweet and cheesy but it's very him.

He'll be planning it for weeks in advance and fussing over the tiniest of details because he wants the day to be nothing short of perfect.

Because you're perfect and deserve nothing less.

As soon as the clock strikes 12, he'll be there with a handmade cake of your favourite flavour singing you happy birthday.

He also does a whooooole thing where he makes special outfits for you from scratch. A cute daytime outfit for the day and the most breathtakingly sexy outfit for the night. Perks of being with an apparel designer, you get custom-made originals exclusively for you.

He also does your hair for each outfit 🥹

Plans out the whole day. Everything is planned according to activities and foods he knows you'll enjoy.

"I just want you to know how much you mean to me, how glad I am that you were born and I want to try and make you as happy as you make me."

Aaa this was very broken and I wrote this in like 10 minutes because it's a busy day at work today but I also wanted you to have something for your birthday. Hope you like it!!

[verymaudlin]

Hi everyone, my name is Maudlin. I'm 29 years old and I dream of becoming a apparel designer and makeup artist. I have big dreams, passion, resilience, tenacity and the heart of an artist. What I don't have is familial support, financial stability or the stable foundation of a good home life to realize these dreams. My two sources of income were depop and a part time job (less than 15 hours a week) and my depop just got suspended and it'll take some doing to get it back again. I'm currently looking for steadier income, but while I navigate the job market for something viable, I'd like to start saving what I do have to start my business(es). I have long term plans of starting a makeup artistry business, for which I have proper training, as well as plans to attend an online fashion merchandising program. I need about $1000 worth of materials to start my makeup business and have it be self-sustaining, and the fashion program tuition is $999. Until I can put the puzzle pieces of my future into place, I need the emotional and material support of friends, family (besides my mom lol) and a wonderful online community to whom I am forever indebted. Reblogs of this post are just as special to me as donations, and I can't begin to express my gratitude for any help you may have to offer. Thank you.

[euphoricjustice]

I’m not sure if this will reach the right crowd but I’ll try anyway. I work for The Gay Agenda Collective in Hawaii, we’re a sustainability focused Native Hawaiian queer women owned event planning business. We’re trying to branch out into apparel/merch and I’ve had the chance to design our newest t-shirts! Inspired by Pa`u riders/Paniolos and Cowboy Carter.

If you want to support a locally owned business in Hawaii you can purchase a shirt for pre-order at their website https://www.thegayagenda.co/shop OR you can follow their ig @ thegayagenda.co and use the link in their bio

They ship out mid May so you’ll get them just in time for pride month in June!

[vibratingskull]

Can I request some smut with reader and samakro? Like he’s just come back from duty and all he’s been thinking about is how he wants to fuck them senseless, there can be any sort of kink you’d like to throw in there. Just really want some more Samakro smut to read 🤭

Please pretend I posted it in time for Valentine's day !

Samakro x F!reader

Tags : Rut, praises, bites, fingering, P in V, creampie, breeding kink

Samakro passes the door and leans his back against it when it closes, passing his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

What a campaign!

And Thrawn had another crazy plan again… The crushing headache he felt hearing it…

He inhales deeply, focusing on his sense to ground himself in the present, the sturdy floor under his feet, the cold metal of the door against his back, the sounds of metal scraping metal coming from the kitchen and the delicious spicy scent floating in the apartment…

Home sweet home.

He rolls his luggage to the living room, he can see the lights of the city through the bay window, how he would prefer to see the sky instead of the walls of a cavern, he just left the never ending night of space to join the constant darkness of underground life.

One day he will buy a house on the surface of a planet where the sun shines. He palpates his pants’ pocket to check if it is still here.

He relaxes at the rectangular form he can feel through the fabric. He didn’t lose it, what a relief.

He takes out his coat observing the city with a sigh of satisfaction of being home before midnight, then turns towards the kitchen, the only lighted room of the apartment.

Here you are, back turned to him, busy cooking his favorite dish for his return. 

He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and looking at you up and down. He admires your human skin, so thinner and softer than Chiss skin, your hair fashioned to not disturb you when you cook, your delicious feminine figure drawing itself under your clothes.

You’re wearing a little apparel today. It’s true that with today’s technology cities have no problem maintaining houses at an acceptables temperatures despite the frozen climate at the surface, and it lets him enjoy all the skin you’re showing off.

He remembers this outfit from a day you spent at the beach, under a real sun, it was hot and windy, consistently lifting your little skirt to the view of everyone. You were so embarrassed, it was absolutely adorable. You were wearing your bikini under it so your honor wasn’t in any danger but you kept pulling on the skimpy skirt, trying to keep it in place, to no avail. He tied his jacket to your hips and the problem was solved.

As thanks you kissed his cheek.

It was the first time.

He played it cool and detached but his heart was speeding at 100 miles per hour. He felt it pound in his ribcage he thought he would burst through and escape. He was so disconcerted, usually Chiss wait to have any kind of romantic physical contact but you leaned in and kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

He remained mute for half an hour, too shocked to speak, he answered to you by groans and hums. He was so thirsty for absolutely no reason.

He can’t help but grin lightly at the thought of your first date, you were both so clumsy it was pretty pathetic, but also endearing and a testament of the solidity of your couple.

Because you knew hardship.

Being human in the Chiss society is like signing a warrant to get discriminated against. After being found by Thrawn and Samakro barely alive in a crushed ship drifting into space, you had to fight to heal your deep wounds, the prognosis was anything but engaging and you had to suffer several surgeries to survive. After, it was the UAG for several months, and under the pretext that Samakro found you during the exploration of your ship, it now fell to him to supervise you. Orders of Senior Captain Thrawn.

How he hated that.

He hated that with a passion!

Why did he have to take care of a helpless human lost in space? Just because he discovered your unconscious body in a room doesn’t mean he should take you as his responsibility! But Thrawn gave his orders and Samakro was nothing but a good soldier, obeying his superior even if his orders were pure bull…

So he came to you everyday when you were in the med bay of the Springhawk and each time he entered the UAG facility he visited you, interrogating you, questioning you, demanding explanations as to why you were in this part of the Chaos.

You proved yourself capable of an extraordinarily resilient mind despite not being a warrior, never losing hope, fighting continuously to earn more and more rights in this little cell of yours.

He came to respect you, bowing his head to your determination and will.

He then started to wait for those visits, the time between each interview seemed long and boring, he caught himself thinking about your next encounter, wondering if you would wear that little top that suited you so well… He almost slapped himself at that thought.

He started to feel strangely protective towards you. One day he came for your schedule questioning but another officer was here, his mind suddenly screamed DANGER. Another military than him could only mean problems for you! He was your appointed official after all! So he jumped before the junior officer, demanding explanation for their presence here, pretty much terrorizing them until they runned off of the room.

“Are you alright?” He then turned to you, separated by the glass wall.

“I’m perfectly fine, they were helping me write my resume in Cheuhn.” You responded calmly, if not amused by this extravagant display of authority.

“Write your… What?”

“I am to be released in less than two months.”

“Oh… Well, congratulations.” He praised coldly, but deep down he felt his heart clench at that news, with you being released it meant… Not seeing each other anymore.

And strangely this thought displeased him immensely. Sending him in a sort of cold panic.

“Thank you. I owe it to you, Senior Captain Samakro.” You smiled at him, “Without your fair reports I could not have been released so soon.”

Fair reports? His reports were nothing but stern and impartial! Even if he maybe started to smooth the rough edges towards the end, even though he refuses to admit it to himself.

But your smile was so genuine and beautiful, your weird not shining red eyes were sparkling with pure joy even if you remained with a dignified expression. He gulped before your beauty that he seemed to notice for the first time

But he noticed it too late…

You were about to disappear from his life, his duty to you ending and you will be set free in one of the numerous worlds of the Chiss. 

Somehow he refused that eventuality with all his heart! All those hours spent together flashing in his mind, he appreciated you, enjoyed your presence and wittiness, he wants to keep hearing your voice and your laugh, he wants to hear his name on your lips again!

“I know a good pub.” He dropped.

You tilted your head in response.

“You will need to know some people if you want to start anew, I can show you the right places.”

“... Is it a date, Senior Captain Samakro?” You asked with a hint of suspicion, grinning.

He lost his word for a second. 

Is it a date?

His honor commanded him to shut you down, how dare an alien have the pretention to date a Chiss like him? But his heart told him that yes, it was a date.

And for the first time in decades, Senior Captain Ufsa’mak’ro listened to his heart instead of his honor.

And it was a good decision.

5 years later you were living together in an apartment you both paid for, you met the Ufsa family and you started dancing around the idea of getting engaged. Integrating the Chiss society as a human was everything but smooth and simple, hatred and racism was rampant but you hold on, earning your place in this ungrateful world and earning Samakro unending admiration and devotion. You woke up everyday to fight and he helped you, supported you in every combat, never hesitating to rub his rank in the face of the person annoying you as a threat.

Quite an effective threat.

All of this culminates to today, him observing you, devouring you with his eyes while you are cooking for your boyfriend, unaware of his presence but awaiting his return eagerly. How fragile you appear to him, how much he wants to protect you, right now he just wants to spawn in your back to pull you in the biggest bear hug you received in your life and bury his nose in your hair, squeezing you like an infant would a fluffy plushy.

He would break you in half if he did that.

His intrusive thoughts immediately start to act up, about all the things he could do to you, you are so feeble and petite in contrast to his huge stature, so flexible and…

He shakes his head, repressing his urges as he usually does.

He opts for a more dignified option, coming to circle your shoulders with his arms gently. You yelp in surprise.

“Hello, little bird.” He whispers in your ear.

“Oh my Warrior, Samakro!” You laugh, “You scared me!”

“I am sorry, beautiful. I saw you and couldn’t resist.”

You press yourself against him with a hum of pleasure. He is so warm despite his thick uniform.

“Do you need help, sweet thing?” He bites your ear with a chuckle, earning a gasp from you.

“Yes, could you take care of the carrots?” 

He kisses your cheek, inhaling your scent sending him immediately in another spiral of desire that he strangles immediately.

He isn’t even here for 10 minutes and already has to fight off his most basest instincts.

He takes the knife to cut the vegetables and it doesn't even take a minute for him to start showing off his skills as a cook, he makes the blades spin in his hands and cuts the vegetables in the latest fashion of the chic restaurants.

“Show off.” You nudge him.

“I have to find new ways to amaze you after 5 years.”

You scoff, laughing.

“What nonsense is that? Of course you still amaze me after 5 years, no need to flaunt me with your cooking skills.”

“I want to keep that sparkle in your eyes alive and not let boredom stifle it.”

You shake your head with a lopsided grin.

“Ridicule.”

You raise on your toes to kiss his cheek and hear a faint purr in response.

“What matters is the love you put in the dish, not making it like a gastronomic restaurant.”

“And I am sure you poured so much love in tonight's dish it will taste absolutely amazing.”

“Well I hope so. What will I do if I cannot cook tasty dinners for my boyfriend?”

He winces at the mention of “boyfriend”. You’re too focused on your sauce to realize it, but it is unbearable to him. The little box flashes in his mind and he relaxes his shoulders.

“I thought cooking was my domain in this house, do you intend on supplanting me?”

“Maybe.” You glance at him with a cheeky grin.

“Then I will simply work even harder on my cooking skills and you will have no choice but to admit your defeat.” He simply argues, cutting the piece of meat in dice expertly.

“Will you let me pamper you for once, First officer Ufsa’mak’ro?” You ask.

“Not a chance, this is my role, little bird.” He flashes you his incisors.

He finishes greasing the meat and throws the pieces in a frying pan and starts flambing them with large flames like a first class chef, sauté the meat easily.

You add spices to the creamy sauce and he takes a spoon to taste it.

“You should add a touch of rhum.”

“Wouldn’t it be too much?” You wonder

“Am I the chef here, yes or no?”

“Alright, alright, mister.” You concede.

You check your ratatouille cooking on the other fire while he finishes the meat and combines the dish.

“You cooked a lot.” He realizes.

“Well, it’s your favorite dish. I wanted for you to eat it for several days.” You explain, wiping your hands on your apron.

“You are so attentionate, beautiful.”

“Pray that I am as good as a cook, soldier.” You wink at him.

He rolls up his sleeves, flexing his muscles to you and lifts the heavy pot with his muscular arms and carries it to the living room. He discovers a table already setted with candles and smooth jazz.

“I see you planned everything, little bird.” 

“For your return, of course! I see you so rarely, I had to make it count.”

He puts the pot down and you serve your lover then yourself with a generous serving. Samakro mentally reads the recipe in his mind, calculating the calories and the adjustment to his training routine he will have to make for one or two days.

“Are you thinking about your calorie intake?” You ask, sitting down.

“How did you know?” He asks, getting rid of his black uniform jacket.

“I know you mister.” You chant. “How is it?”

He stabs a dice of meat with his fork, adds some ratatouille and creamy sauce and puts it in his mouth.

“Absolutely delectable, little bird.” He praises you.

You spend your evening dining in a romantic tête-à-tête. Samakro freshly left his post on the Springhawk so he kept the automatics of commanding, giving you sharp, stern and cold responses but clear his throat and present his excuses. You simply chuckle, savoring your wine, amused by your boyfriend's attitude. It is hard for him to completely relax for the first few hours back at home, but it lets you see your boyfriend's attitude when he leads troops and that is nothing short of interesting.

He also has to get used to your presence once again, get used to the unending temptation you represent and how his instincts resume clawing at his reason once again.

While you laugh at one of his sarcastic comments about Thrawn’s way to command he discreetly palpates his pocket again and feels his heart accelerating at the touch of the box. He has so much anticipation that he masks it to not awaken your suspicion. He feels like on a electric plaque, about to get electrified at any moment. The tension keeps rising higher and higher in his veins.

But you see none of that, you only see your serious, no-nonsense boyfriend eating your dinner. You listen to him recounting his latest adventures in space, what desperate battles he won, what rich encounters he lived, what batshit crazy plan his superior cooked up this time. You listen, your head laying in your hands, dreamily observing your Chiss at the other side of the table with heart eyes.

How much you love this man… 

You extend your leg and start playing footsie with him and he responds immediately while keeping his hard expression.

You sigh, heart palpitating with love. He notices you fixing him and stops mid-movement.

“Is there a problem, little bird?”

“Nothing. I am just contemplating how much I love you.” You simply respond like it was natural.

He maintains a cool expression but his heart accelerates at your confession. Chiss use decorum and a sheen of implicit even to speak of their sentiment, but not you.

You just tell the truth how it is, frankly and directly, without any shame.

Which goes straight to his heart. He always despised all of this glittery and roundabout ways to say even the most simple things and your honesty is a breath of fresh air. You were never afraid to speak up your mind to the face of others and all Chiss categorized you as impolite and improper but he admires you for it. It was one of your most shining qualities in his eyes and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Thrawn appreciated this quirk of you too back when you were in the med bay of the Springhawk, which prompted Samakro to look into you more closely for the first time. Someone catching the eye of the Senior Captain Thrawn surely was worthy of closer inspection by Samakro. 

“Thank you little bird.” He responds, trying to calm his beating heart. “I love you too.”

You smile, satisfied and keep eating, listening to his tales.

He is in the middle of a sentence when his bite almost takes the wrong way as he feels your foot come to play with his groin. He clears his throat as you apply pressure on his clothed cock with your naked foot and an insolent innocent expression on your face. 

“And what happened next?” You ask to force him to speak while you are torturing him.

Goddamnit woman! You will be his death!He tries his darn best to keep his best behavior, to be gentle, romantic and respectful for your comfort and you…!

He bites his cheek in silence, gathering his willpower.

He had to fight his libido all his life, keep it in check at any moment and battle it daily. He always suffered in the Chiss society that promptly judged his condition as obscene and highly improper and he remembers painfully how his former relationships ditched him, calling him a baseless animal, too afraid of him and the piece of work he was. He internalized the shame and the pain, building anger and resentment which tremendously worsened his already hotheaded temperament.

Then he met you.

You didn’t judge him, when you initiated the first sexual contact with him he held his breath, containing and refraining his deeper urges and desires to not scare you away. You picked up on that immediately and simply declared that if he wasn’t honest with you would simply leave him for the evening, alone, hot and highly, atrociously bothered. He dug his nails in the fabric of the covers, clenching his jaw hardly before confessing the truth against his will, ready to get ditched once again. 

You patiently listened, looking at his red shiny eyes.

You then simply leaned forward as you straddled his hips and kissed him languorously, tenderly, circling his muscular neck with your arms, robbing him of his breath.

“Fuck me as hard as you can, big boy.” You murmured, licking the shell of his ear. “I can take it.”

That night was amazing for him. Experiencing sex as his instincts dictated to for the very first time, he fucked you, hard and for long hours. You screamed his name so loud and so much he had to respond to an infuriated neighbor while you hid naked behind the door, trying so hard not to burst out laughing.

He thought he was excessively horny, but clearly he had no idea what you were capable of. Always teasing him, tempting him, poking at his most animalistic urges until he pounded into you savagely.

To your utmost pleasure.

You tilt your head with a thin satisfied smile as he searches for his words, trying to maintain his composure under your touch. 

Hell! Only you ever managed to do that to him, reducing him to a puddle of nerves on complete fire. He would never talk bad of his former relationships but they all lacked the fire to match his burning soul. He always felt he had to smooth the edges and compromise a part of himself to make it work, leaving him unsatisfied and feeling unseen.

But not with you.

He warned you at the beginning of your relationship that he could be passionate and hard to manage sometimes. You simply smiled and answered “Try me.” with soft eyes. And you were true to your words, since he knew you he felt his outbursts of emotions greatly diminishing as your nature easily tamed him, bringing out the good in him. The tension he always felt in his shoulders evaporated gradually, alleviating the weight off his body. He felt heard and listened to for the first time in his life.

Truly connected to someone else for the first time.

But you just jump to it immediately, cornering him and torturing him without any mercy with that innocent face that makes him melt so easily.

He clears his throat one last time and answers with an equal voice to your questions, so you brush your feet harder against his loins.

This time he shudders, making the whole table tremble suddenly.

You cover your snort with your hand while he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He expertly keeps his stern mask in place but he knows if you continue it won’t last.

“I suggest you rethink your strategy, little bird.” He manages to announce with all the menace and authority he has on the bridge, “This little game can only last so long…”

This is your ticket to get out of here if you want to before he abandons the “proper mask” and lash out everything he has onto you. 

“Oh, but I know very well what I am doing and what I am searching for…” You modulate your voice like a succubus, licking your lips and pressing your feet harder against his constrained cock.

Copy that.

“If you're not in bed in less than five seconds, I will take you on the table.” He points out almost nonchalantly.

You jump on your feet with a giggle and trots to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes all along your way. He takes another bite of your delicious meal you cooked with a lot of love for him and stands up to follow you. 

He feels a low growl rising from the depths of his chest and throat as he discards his black tank top, inside the bedroom unlit his red eyes shines and gleams predatorily making you shiver with anticipation.

He discovers you kneeling on the mattress in your undergarments, very fine lingerie of lace and silk, almost jumping on the bed with how much you bounce, trembling with excitement, biting your lips.

“I awaited your return for months.” You admit, “I had to take care of myself alone, do you realize how lonely it gets?”

“Did you think of me when you did it?” He asks casually, leaning against the doorframe.

He used to masturbate a lot before entering your relationship, it being his only outlet for all the tension he constantly felt. But since you were dating he actually welcomed all of this tension, letting it go rampant to make it explode wonderfully once you get back together.

Several months of uncomfort are worth the earth shattering blissful weeks of sex you share together.

He does indulge from time to time, letting you plaguing his mind and senses

“Only you, First Officer Ufsa’ma’kro.” You breath out.

How he loves hearing his complete title with your needy voice, so alluring, so tempting, so… Lecherous.

He can hear the tremors in your short breath, you are as eager as he is. 

He feels his cocks swelling in his pants, the urges starting to get control of him.

He growls deeper, crawling on the bed to join you. He immediately captures your lips, entering your mouth with his tongue, dancing with yours. He pushes your body against the mattress with his weight, sliding between your legs and starts waving his whole body against yours, brushing your groins together. You moan and gasp to encourage him, gripping his shoulders from under his arms to dig your nails in his blues flesh. He hisses in return, appreciating the pain, he gropes your ass and kneads it with his large, warm hands. You chuckle, snuggling in his embrace.

As usual he planned this leave right at the moment of his rut, when the desires get utterly unmanageable for him. This is standard procedure for any Chiss in the Navy, he isn’t an exception, he just has it harder than any others.

But you are always here to welcome him deep inside of you and relieve him.

He fights the urge to just seize and tear the undergarments apart, you choose them carefully for him, it would be a shame…

But damn the urge is strong!

“Open those legs nice and wide for me, beautiful.” He growls.

You oblige eagerly and you feel his large hand trailing his way from your tummy to your panties, he passes past the hem and scoop your pussy. He can already feel you dripping with anticipation.

He could just jump into it. Enter you right now and fuck you into oblivion.

But renouncing foreplay is renouncing half of the fun!

And he likes his fun. He indulges in excess with you.

His little birdie.

His sweet… girlfriend.

But not for long anymore.

He trails your slit with his finger, collecting your wetness, lubricating his finger before pushing past your folds and entering you, knuckles deep. You mewl instantaneously, rolling your hips on the mattress under his large body.

“Relax, beautiful.” He whispers darkly, “Invite me in…”

He searches for shorts seconds and finds the oh so sweet spot that makes you see hyperspace and make you dripping wet, he immediately starts aggressively brushing it with the pad of his finger. 

Without being a mean character himself, “nice” and “tender” aren’t his style.

He likes the mess, he likes fucking nasty style, he likes you screaming out your pleasure. He likes pushing the limits of your bodies.

This extend to his fingering style

He rubs the gummy spot harshly and relentlessy, crossing it, circling it, scratching it. He doesn’t neglect your clit either, pressing it down with his thumb, he knows how important it is for feminine pleasure, he glides across it, teasing and titillating it feeling the nervous bud puffing up under his touch, gorging itself with blood.

His lips attack your neck, biting down the soft flesh with his long fangs, sucking on the smooth skin. He takes the opportunity to inhale your natural musk, teasing his own rutting instincts with your pheromones as you fuck yourself on his finger. Feeling your eagerness he inserts a second finger to stretch you out.

You are already dripping wet and plenty ready, but he wants to play, wants to toy with your reactive body, shuddering under him. He humps your thighs as he scissors you thoroughly, knowing exactly what makes you react and scream in pleasure. He parts from you with immense difficulty to reposition himself between your legs, he resumes his rough fingering while applying pressure on your womb with his other hand, hooking your pussy and flicking your clit. 

“Does it feel good, little bird?” He growls.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You cannot help yourself but shout with how much pleasure he is giving you.

“Oh my Warrior, keep going! Right here! Right…”

“Good. I want you to come hard, okay? I will count to ten and you will come at my command.” He orders. “10…”

You mewl and moan, squirming in his expert hands. 

“9…”

You arch your back as you deeply inhale as waves of pleasure are spreading across your entire body.

“8… Keep going, sweet thing.”

You feel your pussy clenching around his fingers to suck them inside of you.

“7, roll you hips, fuck yourself good.”

He accelerates his ministrations.

“6…”

Your body trembles terribly as he fingers you deep.

“5, hold it for me, beautiful.”

As a trial he adds a third finger. Your mouth rounds up in a perfect “o”, it is almost too much for you.

“4…”

You feel your abdominals and pussy clench around his large fingers. Each seconds gets purposefully longer and longer, torturing you for his amusement.

“3, you are almost here.”

You feel yourself dripping in his large hand and the sheets.

“2…”

The tension rises to another height.

“1…” He groans with a short breath.

The tension snaps and a warm shockwaves spreads through your entire body, your pussy clench furiously, trying to retain him inside and you squirt thanks to the pressure on your womb. You cannot help a scream of pleasure as your orgasm explodes in your cunt.

Your body tenses up and relax suddenly, leaving you with limp limbs and no strength left.

“Amazing, beautiful!” He praises you with his warm voice, a hungry growl resonating in his chest, “And so obedient…”

You remain still with your eyes closed, awaiting for the bright lights behind your eyelids to subside as the warmth of your orgasm slowly disappears. You take your breath, your chest rising up and down rapidly.

“Open your eyes (Y/n).” He orders softy.

You open them only to meet a velvety rectangular box, open with a ring reflecting the red light of Samakro’s eyes in the obscurity of the bedroom. 

Your breath escapes you in shock. You press your hand against your mouth, at loss for words.

“Oh my Warrior…” You can only mutter.

“(Y/n),” He inhales deeply, “Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

His voice is equal and assured but there is an undeniable longing and hope in his tone.

“But… Samakro, what will the Ufsa say?” You worry.

 He sighs in his mind, engagements and marriages are a family affair, you have to deposit a demand at the local Patriel for them to investigate the prospect couple, judge if the union will be profitable to the family as a whole, ensuring that nobody marries down their standing and ranks… Marrying was a real obstacle course and the couple were rarely in love with each other, the families openly preferring arranged unions.

And Samakros knows that if he doesn’t act now the Ufsa will find him a wife without his opinion.

“To hell what they would say! I want you and no one else, I will not let them dictate this aspect of my life!” He assure you.

You lose your voice. Samakro going against the Ufsa wishes? Samakro rebelling? Samakro ready to stand against anyone else…

For you?

You burst into tears, immediately hiding your face behind your hands.

He remains still, not knowing what to do or how to interpret your reaction.

“(Y/n), beautiful, are you alright…?” He worries.

You nod, trying to control your shudders and calming down between your sobs. 

“But… But if they refuse…?” You hiccups. “I am a mere human, they would never allow such union…”

“I will raise to Commodore and cut all ties with them. I will take them as enemies if they refuse, I will raise hell to keep you!” He continues with fire in his voice, “Please, my love, cheo cha’cah… Will you give me your hand?” He presses himself against you, taking your hands off your face to squeeze them, pleading with his eyes.

“Yes… Yes!” You can only chant between your tears, “A hundred times YES!”

He gently takes your hand and passes the ring on your finger. You hiccup and gasp and sob but you also giggle, wiping your tears away, eyes fixed on the diamond shining red with Samakro’s eyes.

He nuzzles your face, pecking your cheek and the corner of your mouth, purring loudly, circling your shoulder with his arm to pull you into a hug. You press yourself against him, kissing him deeply, pulling him closer desperately.

He is taking an immense risk, the Ufsa will never forgive such an infringement to tradition and proper etiquette. A union with a lowly human will be such a stain for their honor…

But he is ready to take on the risk for you and nobody else.

They can deprive him of his rank if that amuse them, he doesn’t care. He knows Superior Captain Thrawn would never accept a demission for such a reason. He would never understand such a decision, much to Samakro’s relief.

As long as he can provide for you and support your future family, Samakro is satisfied. He can face any hardship life can throw at him! He is ready. 

For you… Only for you.

He bites down your lips hungrily, his rut reminding him cruelly of its presence. Your cheeks are wet with tears but those are tears of joy, the only ones he authorizes himself to trigger. He purrs loudly, grasping your body, groping it everywhere, caressing it, kneading it.

“Fuck me.” You let out between kisses, “Like our first time, fuck me hard.”

“Anything for you, beautiful.”

He seizes the delicate fabric of your bra and tears it apart, revealing your lovely tits to his eyes. He pushes you down the mattress and takes one in his mouth immediately, licking and sucking it avidly, kneading the other in his large hand, squeezing it gently.

You gasp and arch your back again, waving your body under his muscular one. Oh the unholy sounds he makes when he sucks on your breast, laving at the nipples, gliding the tip of his tongue across the nervous bud.

“I love your tits, little bird.” He obscenely groans with one in his mouth, “So round, so soft, so perfect for me.” He worships your body.

He suddenly bites down your nipple, earning a choked gasp frome you. He kisses your pebbled flesh and gives the same treatment to the other. He lays down on you to brush your clothed sexes, humping them together.

Once he is done worshiping your breast he rises on his knees to open his constrictive pants, you growl instinctively at the sight of his bulge. You rise in a sitting position and kiss it over his boxer, pecking his clothed cock reverently before taking a big wet lap at it. He growls in response, getting rid of his boxer.

“I need to be inside of you as soon as possible, princess. Lay down.” He hisses appreciatively.

You gladly open your thighs for your fiance, letting him see the mess he made of your panties. He lowers himself down to tear them apart like your bra.

He just can’t help himself…

He maintains your thighs open to observe your dripping cunt bare before his rubies, emitting a deep growl like a predator getting territorial. You smirk and spread your folds apart with two fingers to taunt him. He dives forward to give it a big and long lick with the flat of his tongue.

“Hell…” He can’t help but curse at your taste.

You taste so good, so sweet and so, so wet…

Just for him…

He raises back and aligns his painfully hard cock with your dripping entrance. Pre cum is dripping off his tip, his instincts scream at him to bury himself deep immediately but he holds on, using all his willpower to restrain himself just a bit longer and brushing his girth between your folds, coating it nice and good with your essence. You sigh of pleasure but he feels your impatience bubbling under your skin.

And he feels his own too. You both waited long enough.

He positions himself and buries himself to the hilt in one go. All your air gets knocked off your lungs abruptly and you gasp. Without wasting any second he installs a break necking pace, invading your pussy with his girthy length without any pity for your poor body

He fucks you without any restraint anymore, bullying himself into you, forcing the most obscenes noises out of you. He fucks out all of his stress, all of his tension, all of his anger out, instilling all his strength in each and every thrust.

You seize the headboard to prevent your head hitting it, to no avail.

“Ch'etecerci! Your little pussy is so tight, little bird!” He gasps almost painfully, “You are strangling me so good!” He praises.

You cry in response, gasping desperately but each of his hips movements are fierce, rapid and deep, making the bed crack dangerously.

He fucks you brutally, pluging his dick deep in your wetness, leaving you no time to adjust yourself or breath. That’s how he likes to fuck, nastily and mercilessly. He loves your gasps and your screams, he loves how tight you are, how powerless you are in his arms, how he owns you body and soul.

He raises on his knees, forcing your hips up, robbing you of any little control you might add over the situation. He digs his fingers in your flesh, slamming your hips violently with his, feeling his large cock assaulting your poor pussy.

Your human skin is naturally colder than a Chiss one, but you are oh so warm inside, making him absolutely insane, your warm, wet pussy welcoming him deep inside…

He rolls his hips languorously, waving his body sensually, flexing all of his muscles to impress you like you were in any state to formulate a single coherent thought.

Your brain is fried beyond reason, only good enough to register the pleasure you’re feeling and numbing any other info it receives. 

But that’s how you like it.

Fucked so well you lose all control over yourself.

How many times did you end up in tears after a high so powerful the descent was utterly devastating? But Samakro was always here to catch you, to comfort and soothe you, hugging you tenderly after fucking you like a beast.

One of his hands releases your hip to take care of your pulsating clit, he starts flicking it in rhythm with his thrusts, teasing your nervous bud until he starts feeling your pussy tightening around his shaft.

“That’s it, beautiful, take it! Take all of me!” He taunts. “You are so good for me, so perfect!”

You cry, he stretches your little pussy so much! You’re not meant to fit such a cock, but he always makes it work somehow…

Each time he becomes absolutely rabid seeing the bulge your bodies make, he is so much larger and taller than you! This simple sight overrides anything left of his reason and dignity and renders him simply… 

Animalistic. 

Bestial. 

Savage…

So far away from the pride of the regal Chiss, he becomes a vicious beast hunting you down for pleasure and release, riding you into their cold sun and back, tearing the pillows apart and destroying almost every bed you ever owned.

And you love it.

How he discards his pride, how you can reduce him into a mess of groans and growls. How nothing else matters in those moments but the two of you.

He keeps scrubbing your poor clit, making you cream around his girthy cock so much. He can feel your wetness rolling down his powerful thighs to the sheets, but what can he say?

He simply loves a mess in his bed.

And he is going to make such a mess…

He lays back down your hips on the bed, laying on you with his full weight, attacking your neck again.

“Little bird, beautiful, Cha’cah…” He punctuates each word with a deep thrust, “Will you let me breed you? Will you let me fuck a baby into you? Please? I need it…” He grunts animasticaly. “A little baby, our baby, you and I! Our baby!Our little one!”

Only choked whines escape you now, but you manage to gather enough willpower to circle his hips with your legs, imprisoning him between your thighs.

“Do it…” You let out in a gasp, “Give me a baby, Samakro…”

He roars and bites down your neck, his long fangs breaking the skin and he hurries his thrust even more ravishing your poor cunny that can’t do anything else but take it. You’re more of a sex doll than an active partner with such assaults!

A loud crack suddenly resonates in the bedroom and you yelp as you feel something break under the mattress. That doesn’t stop Samakro, only fixated on his new objective.

Breeding you.

Making you his for all eternity.

Tying your legacies in blood and flesh.

“My little bird! My beauty! Cheo Cha’cah!” He rasps, “Mine only! To fuck and breed as I please! Letting me fuck a baby into you like a good princess!” He is beyond any reason at this point.

He keeps his pace up, licking the fresh bruise on your neck and you hug him tight, circling his large shoulders and you bury your nose in the crook of his neck. 

In his blind rage he still has the senses to take care of your clit, far from neglecting it he increases his caress and harsh brushes making you see hyperspace behind your eyelids.

He maintains his bestial rhythm until his movement becomes erratic and he freezes still, spurting his potent seed inside your pussy. You cannot refrain from the scream of his name, too lost in your bliss. Your pussy clenches hard, milking him for all his worth, retaining him deep inside.

Everything comes to a halt, and silence takes place.

You take your breath, Samakro laying on you, kissing your bruise tenderly, purring loudly. Your bodies are covered in sweat and juices, you both pants heavily, trying to calm down your beating hearts.

“We broke the bed.” You sigh, “Again.”

“Really? I did not notice.” He chuckles.

Which one is it? the 30th? He doesn’t care because he hopes he will have to buy a lot more in the future.

He raises his head to look at you, you are exhausted beyond measure but he can still see the bliss in your eyes. He nuzzles your nose with a smug smirk.

“Oh you’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” You snark 

“I might…” He only answer.

He takes your hand to observe the ring at your finger and kisses it reverently.

“Thank you…” He whispers. “I love you, (Y/n).”

“I love you too, Samakro.” You smile fondly at him.

He feels himself melt again, utterly defenseless before your charms and he kisses your lips.

Softly.

Tenderly.

Lovingly…

You part with a shudder of surprise when you hear someone pounding the door.

“Ah!” You chuckle, “We woke up the neighbors again!”

Beautiful artwork by the Magnificent @jun-c !

[saltminerising]

I don't know if it's just me but for some reason I only like a small number of modern tertiaries. I don't know why, most of them are perfectly fine on their own. But whenever I scry a dragon without a specific plan (especially if I don't plan on adding apparel) most just look imbalanced or too busy or too subtle. I almost always go for an ancient because the line breaking terts are so much more interesting. Anyway we REALLY need more modern terts.