#but it happened to me that i listen to music and realize two songs changed and i’m still in plank and i’m like oh shit

[ashmp3]

she is just like me 🏋🏼‍♀️🩷🏋🏼‍♀️

[mayanneaa]

hits different - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x ex!reader

SUMMARY : jj broke up with you two months ago, but this one party makes him truly realize what he’s done.

WARNING(S) : swearing, jealous and super drunk jj, a little angst, fluff, minimal use of y/n (like once), might have some grammar errors, english is not my first language

A/N : first fic on here heheh obv inspired by 'hits different' by taylor swift. i recommend listening to it while reading :) dividers by @roseraris !! not proofread dont kill me

WC : 1.7k

masterlist.

After a fourth beer, the party got too loud and the lights too bright. Normally, in a moment like this, he would run to you, wrap his arms around you, and inhale your sweet, calming scent. Just as he’s about to do it, the realization hits him like one of the waves nearby.

You aren’t together anymore.

He sharply inhales and looks around. His vision is softly spinning, but it’s no problem for him. JJ spots you in a second. With another boy.

You two are just talking. You don’t even know this guy, he came up to you to ask about something so random it got lost in your chat long ago. You give him one of those kind smiles, and JJ feels his fists clench. “Fuck.”

The music changes. As if he wasn’t already miserable, the speakers let out the first notes of your song. The one he first kissed you to. The one you two always played, alone at the chateau dancing on the back porch.

The memories flood his mind, and he can’t take it anymore. Jj feels his heartbeat loud in his ears, and he wants to leave. To go to any of the pogues, or, even better, drive away in the Twinkie. But his eyes cannot move from your face, and his legs just don’t work.

It baffles him. Not once in his life, he couldn’t move on. But this time, with you, it's different. It hits different.

You finally catch him. The guy is still talking to you, but your attention is on the other side of the beach. Before you can interrupt, you see John B. coming up to JJ. He tells him something, grabs his arm, and leads his best friend somewhere. You feel your heart sink. “Are you okay?” you hear the guy ask, making you turn your head.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you quickly say, leaving him alone. You have to find JJ.

“Dude, stop this shit right now,” John B.’s holding the steering wheel, making his way to the Chateau. JJ's taken the passenger seat, shoulders slumped, and he runs his hand through the blonde strands.

"Yeah, easy for you to talk." he snarls, "You and Sarah are all happy together, you don't know how it's like-"

"I don't know because I don't just randomly break up with my girl over a bad day I had." John B. cuts him off and lets out a deep sigh. "JJ, you should talk to her. Everyone's done. You are constantly miserable."

JJ doesn't say anything. The words hit him like a slap, unnecessarily hurtful. Outside the window he sees the familiar place - they are at the Chateau.

"Get some rest, okay?" John B opens the door and helps JJ get in the house. "Call me in case something happens."

The blonde nods his head and plops on the couch, legs stretched out. Minutes pass, and he finds himself whispering your name, over and over again, as if he's scared he'll forget it.

His mind still replays that cold May night.

You two agreed to meet at the dock. The wind softly overflowed your face as you were waiting for him. When he finally came, you felt something was wrong. His usual smile was gone, and he didn't even look at you. You hugged yourself in your hoodie, "JJ? Is everything alright?"

He let out a shaky breath, leaning over the railings. "I think we should break up."

You blinked in surprise, your heart feeling heavy. "What?"

Your voice sounded smaller than you intended. You reached out for his hand, your own shaking.

"It will be better for both of us." JJ dismissively said, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down his body, and his throat tightened, but he brushed it off.

You felt so much hitting you. Tears burned under your eyelids, and anger started to bubble up. Did you do something? Or maybe he just decided you weren't good enough for him anymore?

"No," you whispered at first, but your voice was growing louder, "You don't get to just... just decide on my behalf!"

The moonlight fell on his face, and you tried to find any answers in his eyes. He stiffened, shaking his head before he repeated, "It will be better if we end it now."

You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. The tears threatening to fall finally flooded your face, a quiet scoff escaping your lips. "I can't believe this. This is how much it meant for you?"

You were met with silence. The atmosphere on the dock could be cut with a knife, and you couldn't just stand here. Before you registered it, your legs led you down, far from your boy- well... ex-boyfriend. JJ's eyes followed your every step. He wanted to run after you, to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But he didn't.

It wasn't just a one-day whim he had. It stuck with him ever since you two decided to make it official. It grew with every late night you spent not on something you like, but on cleaning him up after another fight. You didn’t say anything—but he knew. He knew that sooner or later, it will be too much. He will be too much to handle.

The sweetest girl walking on the earth, a literal angel and him. A failure, a Pogue whose fate it was to end up just like his father—always drunk, always angry.

His heart ached at this thought. You had so many opportunities, and if you decided to let it go because of him, he would never forgive himself.

Breaking up before he got even more attached was for the better. It had to be. Right?

JJ doesn’t know how long he’s been lying like this. His breathing is now steady and slow, and he has to remind himself to breath in again.

He closes his eyes, but can’t escape you. The memories come fast—not giving him much time for defense.

Your face. Always in the sun, glowing as if you were a goddess. The lips glossed from the cherries you’ve been eating. Your eyes, the creases forming in the corners almost constantly from smiling.

Your touch. All these quick brushes, the way you traced your soft fingertips over his forearm every time you sat nearby. The long, tight hugs during which JJ’s hands wrapped your waist, him hungrily inhaling your perfume.

His breath hitches. Is it truly the best this way?

Before he can answer, the quiet crack of a key opens the door. He darts up and immediately regrets it, as the whole room starts spinning.

“JJ?” he hears a soft whisper, and his heart skips a beat.

The warm lights of the Chateau reveal your face. He feels the heat rising to his cheeks, “What are you doing here?”

His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. You step closer, with a cautiousness that kills something inside him. He avoids your gaze, staring at the suddenly interesting floor.

“You’re not doing great, huh?” you say, but there’s no mockery or anger in your voice. There’s just… worry.

JJ turns around on his heels and sits down on couch, fearing that if he stands for a minute longer, he might just fall. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit that intensified over the two months.

“Stop it, Y/N.” he finally replies looking at you for the first time. The light reflects of his watery eyes, and his voice breaks when he continues, “Go back to the party and your new stupid little boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you fussing over me talking to a guy after you broke up with me?”

JJ shakes his head, looking at the floor again, “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore, I guess. You really should go—”

“Why did you end this?”

The question feels like an arrow through his heart. You’re standing with your hands crossed, not planning on going anywhere. “Why, J? We were happy. Did I do something…?”

“It wasn’t you.” In the response, he hears a snort.

Your gaze is heavy, with your eyebrows arched up. “Classic. Then what was it, JJ?” The tone of your voice is pushing, and you don’t even try to control it, “What happened that you decided to just leave me?”

“I was scared!” he snaps before he can think of anything better to say. “How do you imagine it? You… you can’t suffer with me forever. It’ll break you one day and—”

“JJ.”

The way you say his name pulls him out of the spiral. It slips off your tongue smoothly, just like it used to. You grip his arm, and JJ forgets what he was even talking about.

“You don’t get to make this decision without talking to me. Did you ever asked me how I feel about this?”

A blush creeps up on his cheeks, and whether you want it or not, the corners of your lips rise.

He tries to make any sense, the tears dangerously close to falling. “I mean— You deserve someone better. Someone who will keep you safe and… I’m not that person. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

You sigh. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone better, baby. I want you. That’s my decision.”

With these words, with what you called him, his walls crash. You pull him closer, your bodies touching and he can’t take it anymore. JJ lets out a muffled sob into the crook of your neck, gripping you like he’s never letting you go.

Your fingers find their way up to his hair, running through the golden strands as he’s shaking.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. So sorry—”

“Shhh,” You draw small circles on his back, and his breath slows down after some time. “We will talk about it tomorrow, ’kay? You’re super drunk right now.”

“Promise you won’t leave.” JJ sniffles, the tip of his nose pink. You giggle, but he pulls away to look at you, a serious expression on his face. “I’m not joking! Promise me you’ll still be here in the morning. Please.”

You gently squeeze his shaking hand and can’t help but smile. “I promise.”

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

We need a part two of the harley quinn mother headcanons!

SUGAR & SPICE!

pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Teen! Reader.

(PLATONIC FIC)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ Every mother reaches the moment when she sees her chick starting to become independent from the nest. Harley loved you from the moment she found you in that abandoned alley, and now she finds it hard to accept that you are drifting away.

If she knew why you were leaving her behind, she would probably be thinking about putting Robin in the oven.

warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Trauma.

A/N ── Honestly, I didn't plan on making a continuation of that headcanon, but since you asked (and your requests are sacred to me), here it is! Shoutout to @animequeen4 for the inspiration too!

When you grow up as the child of one of the most notorious supervillains in Gotham, things get a bit complicated. Harley knew this since you entered school, and especially since she separated from the Joker. She had prepared for everything: to protect you from clowns, snakes, and even snakes disguised as clowns. But what she didn't see coming, what truly drove her crazy, was the biggest challenge of all: your adolescence.

Harley noticed it almost immediately. At first, it was small things. Like how you no longer wanted to listen to the music she played at full volume in the lair. Instead, you started listening to your own songs, the ones she described as "unbearable noise." Then came the decoration of your room, which went from posters of heroes and villains to something "weird," according to Harley. “Since when do you like bats so much?” she would say with an eyebrow raised. But what broke her heart the most was when you stopped letting her dress you. She got frustrated every time she tried to put something on you that she thought looked great, and you would just say, "No, mom, I don't like that anymore."

But the worst, the worst of all, was when you entered high school. You made friends. Friends whose names Harley didn't even know. Horrible! For someone like her, who was used to knowing all the details of your life, that was the worst that could happen. And on top of that, you no longer asked for permission to do things! The worst part was that she had raised you "well" (according to her criteria), so she didn't understand how you ended up at the police station several times for vandalism and disturbances.

"I raised you better than this!" she would shout, completely indignant, while signing the papers to get you out of another detention. Inside, she knew you were going through that rebellious phase, but that didn't make it any easier to cope.

One day, Harley stood at the door of your room, frustrated because you didn't even ask her for help with your math problems anymore. She stared at you, her hands on her hips, and exclaimed, “Look, little birdie, I get you! I know you're growing up and all that, but can you please stop doing it so fast? You're slipping through my fingers!”

It was a mix of desperation and tenderness. Harley wasn't ready to see you grow up. She knew you were becoming more independent, but in her heart, you would always be her little one. And even though she got frustrated with all these changes, with every new friend or every time you snuck out to go to a party, deep down she just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Puberty was a roller coaster, and Harley was starting to realize that nothing in her villain life had prepared her to deal with it. The first thing she noticed was that you no longer wanted to go out with her for taco Fridays with the girls. Those days when they went shopping, wore neon clothes, and had laughs while window shopping stopped being your thing. Harley watched you from the doorframe, taco in hand, saying, “What happened to my buddy? Where's the kid who loved to eat until stuffed full of carnitas?”

Sometimes, Harley tried not to take it to heart, but it was hard. She crumbled a little every time you locked yourself in your room instead of watching her roll around on the sofas with the Birds of Prey or with the Sirens, planning their next crazy scheme. It was then that she realized she needed help. So, as a good mother (or as close as she could get), she turned to the only person who could understand her frustration... Catwoman.

But the chat with Selina wasn’t exactly helpful. “Harley, sweetheart, I don’t mix with kids. I don’t know what you want me to tell you, mine has four legs and purrs,” Selina said, taking a sip of her martini while checking out a new leather whip. It was a "thanks, but no thanks," and Harley left with more questions than answers.

Next stop: Ivy. Harley had high hopes that Ivy, with her serenity and green wisdom, would give her the key to understanding you better. But Ivy just shrugged and said, “Plants grow, Harley. Just like kids. You can't stop the natural process.” Harley frowned. “And what do I do when they doesn’t want to tell me who he's with all day?” Ivy, very zen, replied, “You could always... spy ” It wasn't exactly the help she was looking for.

After exhausting her resources with the girls, Harley did the unthinkable: she turned to Batman. Yes, Batman! In a conversation that turned out to be as awkward as it was effective, the Dark Knight explained to her what he had learned from raising his multiple Robins: “It's part of growing up. You just have to be there, but give them space. You can't control everything.”

Harley, of course, took it with her usual dramatism: “Give them space!? But they doesn’t even want to go for tacos anymore!?” It was as if the world had turned upside down.

Meanwhile, at school, things weren’t going smoothly either. Your new “friends” were... questionable. People that Harley, if she had known, would have kicked out. But, for your luck (or misfortune), those friends didn’t last long. In the end, the problems they brought with them distanced you from them, and unexpectedly, you found yourself spending more time with Damian again. Harley, of course, had no idea about this. To her, Damian was just the rude boy you sometimes talked to.

There was always something about him that intrigued you, and despite his constant grumbling and "I don't care" attitude, you managed to see beyond that. Between talks about anything (and often about nothing), Damian became someone important to you. Harley had no idea about this mini romance, because if she did, she would probably already be plotting a plan to scare the Wayne boy. “If you think he’s cute, go for it,” she had once said with a mischievous wink. And although she didn't think you would take it seriously, here you were, emotionally entangled with Batman’s son, even though at that time you didn't know he was Batman's son.

It all started with an idea that, in retrospect, wasn’t the best: throwing paint cans at Robin. In your defense, it sounded like a funny prank at the moment. What you didn't calculate was that Robin, being Damian Wayne, wasn’t exactly easy to evade. You ran as if your life depended on it, covering almost twenty kilometers, and the most frustrating part was that he wasn’t even sweating. Every time you turned to see if you had lost him, there he was, impeccable, with that unfriendly look and his expression of "When I catch you, say goodbye to your legs."

When he finally threw you to the ground, ready to give you the lesson of your life, you looked at him more closely. That perfectly styled hair, that look of a thousand deaths, and the sarcasm in every phrase... "Damian?!" you shouted, more out of disbelief than fear. Because, of course, it turns out your boyfriend wasn’t just a rude jerk, but also the damn Robin. The pieces finally fell into place, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or feel betrayed. In the end, you did both.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he reprimanded you with that authoritative voice he usually reserved for criminals and his family. "Throwing paint? Seriously?"

The funny thing is that, even though you were completely exhausted from the chase, your brain didn’t stop working. So instead of apologizing like a normal person, you shrugged and said, "At least it wasn't green paint. That would have been offensive." He didn’t find it so funny.

From that moment on, the romantic dates became something much more... practical. Damian decided that if you were going to get into trouble, at least you should know how to defend yourself, so starry night strolls turned into intense self-defense training sessions. "Nothing says 'I love you' like a well-placed punch," you thought every time Damian corrected your stance. And although at first you considered it the least romantic of gestures, there was something sweet about how he insisted on keeping you safe.

Of course, these "dates" weren’t just training. Eventually, you met Jon Kent, the super-sweet boy who contrasted so much with Damian's serious personality. The trio you formed was a disaster waiting to happen, yet somehow it worked. Between secret missions, night escapades, and 'lots of fun,' the three of you became inseparable. But it was all super secret, because if Batman found out, well, the reprimand wouldn’t be exactly gentle. And Harley... well, don’t even think about what Harley would say if she found out.

But Harley, being Harley, didn’t take long to notice the changes. For her, it was alarming to see how her kid, her little birdie, was starting to come home late through the window, with two colors in his hair that reminded her a bit of her own lifestyle, and some bruises that you, of course, tried to hide. "Did you fall down the stairs again? Seriously?" she would ask skeptically while helping you tend to your wounds.

Her biggest fear wasn’t that you would get into minor trouble, but that he would have come back. Harley began to suspect that the Joker had found you, and that kept her in a constant state of alert. She watched you more closely, trying not to show it, but it was obvious. Nights with Damian always seemed to fly by. Between training, talks, and that connection you both shared, the hours slipped away without either of you noticing. That was how it happened that one particular night, after a long and exhausting session, he decided to walk you home. Not that you needed it, you were perfectly capable of getting home on your own (or so you said), but Damian liked to make sure you got home safely. Plus, it was an excuse to spend more time together.

It was already four in the morning, and you were ready to say goodbye with a kiss when suddenly, three giant hyenas sprang out from under your bed, and Harley, in full ninja mode, dropped from the ceiling with a baseball bat in hand. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

You had to close the window, leaving Damian outside, to prevent your mom and the hyenas from getting to the "mom, chill," you tried to calm her, putting yourself between them. "It's not what it looks like."

"Oh no! It looks like you're turning into a mini-Harley with a boyfriend and everything, and I'm not going to sit back and watch how they break your heart like that stupid clown broke mine!"

But you managed to slow her down, and with Harley calmed down (more or less), the tension of the moment seemed to dissolve, but she didn’t stop there. The next morning, she showed up at the Batcave (Only God knows how she found the Batcave), furious, and ready to confront Batman for allowing his son to "seduce" her little birdie. "What kind of father lets his son stay out late with my kid?! This is unacceptable!"

Bruce, who was busy with his screens, barely looked up. He listened to Harley’s furious monologue while maintaining his typical calm posture, nodding from time to time. When Harley finished, he just raised his thumb calmly, as if giving his approval. "Damian has good taste," was all he said.

"That doesn’t help me, Bats!" Harley exclaimed, frustrated. But Bruce, in his minimalist style, simply added, "You... should spend more time with your kid, Harley. Don’t worry so much. And if you need help, just let me know."

Harley was left speechless. It wasn’t the response she expected, but deep down, she knew Batman was right. She sighed and, resigned, left without more than a warning for Bruce: "Just because you told me that doesn’t mean I won’t hit you with my bat if things go wrong."

But the truth is that as Harley made her way home, she reflected a little. You were growing up, and although she didn’t like it, it was part of life. You couldn’t be her little one forever, and while the fear of losing you was always present, she knew she had to trust you. After all, she had raised you well (in her own way), and now she could only let you fly a little, like that little bird she often mentioned.

Back at home, she found you lying on the couch, still with some paint in your hair from the prank on Damian. Harley watched you for a while, noticing how much you had grown. Not just in height, but in attitude. The way you had started to move through the world, making your own decisions, forming relationships outside the little universe she had built for you. And that, even though she sometimes denied it, hurt her a little. She sat on the edge of the couch, sighing as she stroked your messy hair.

Harley noticed it before anyone. First, you stopped getting excited about taco Fridays with the girls or going out to dye your hair neon. Then, it was the uncomfortable silence when you no longer sought her advice for anything. You had become more independent, but Harley only saw you drifting away.

Harley sighed and looked at you with a mix of nostalgia and worry. “You’re growing up... and even though I hate it, I know I can’t stop it. I just want you to know that you will always be my little birdie. No matter how big you get, you will always have a place with me.”

You stayed silent, noticing how difficult it was for her to say it. Harley had been many things, but she had never stopped being your mother. You smiled at her and nodded, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. "I love you too, mom. I promise I’m not drifting away, I’m just... growing."

Harley gave you a tight hug, and in that moment, you knew that even though everything might change, you would always find that common ground, whether it was stealing marshmallows or just sharing a night under the stars. "Puberty sucks," Harley joked, and for the first time in a long time, you both laughed together.

As the hug lingered, you felt how the outside world faded away, leaving only Harley and you in a bubble of safety and love. "I’ll be here, always ready for you, even if sometimes I’m a little... crazy,” she replied with a soft laugh. “But you know that’s what makes everything more fun, right?”

You nodded, and inside, the worry you had felt about drifting away from her faded. There was comfort in knowing that even though the road ahead might be complicated and full of challenges, you had a beacon lighting your way. A mother who, with her craziness and unconditional love, would always guide you home.

"Let’s promise to do more things together, then," you said with determination. "No matter if it’s stealing candy or painting our nails bright colors. There will always be time for that."

"Deal," said Harley, raising her pinky as if sealing a pact. You smiled and linked it with yours. The connection you shared was stronger than any challenge you could face.

"And when it’s time to face the world, I’ll be your ally," she added, a spark of determination shining in her eyes. "Because we will be a team, always."

After that, everything changed, but for the better. Learning to divide your time between everything you loved wasn’t easy, but you knew you would succeed. After all, you had the strongest support: that of your strange yet endearing family, that of your partner, and above all, that of the best mother you could have ever dreamed of.

A/N ─── Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to request anything, don't hesitate to ask. I read all of your comments and questions!

Take a Bath!

[pbueckerslover]

‘CAUSE I THINK YOU’RE LOVELY - PAIGE BUECKERS

a/n: this is my favvv brent song it’s sooo good i suggest listening while reading :)

pairing(s): paige bueckers x female!reader

warnings: clubbing, language, smut, fingering (r!receiving), strap on use, ex!gf paige, sorta rough paige

summary: you and paige are exes and see each other at a club two months after your break up. what happens when you both confess how much you’ve missed each other?

i almost fell in love with you

after the club last night

from afar paige could see her. her ex girlfriend. you two broke up only a couple months ago but you’ve been on her mind every day since then. you were the girl of her dreams but things just weren’t working out for you two and you decided you were better off as friends.

how could she let that happen? how could she let the most perfect girl she’s ever met just slip through her fingers like that? to say she regretted her actions was an understatement.

she watched you from across the room, head pounding from the loud voices and even louder music. her eyes were on you for every move you made. they followed every inch of your body taking in every part of you.

it don’t know what you do

moneys gonna treat you right

caught in her daze, she didn’t realize how much closer you had gotten until you were practically inches away from her face.

“paige! oh my god.” you said snapping her back to reality. her eyes finally met yours and she felt like the world was spinning. “hey y/n.. it’s been so long.” she replied watching as you started moving closer.

“too long.” you replied looking up at her with a slight smile. “how have you been? what’s up?” you ask.

paige stays silent for a second before finally replying, “are we really gonna do this? act like everything is fine between us?” she looked sad but angry at the same time.

her words caught you off guard, not the type of reaction you were expecting. “what are you talking about?” you ask, locking your eyes back on hers.

paige scoffs, trying to hide the fact that she still cares about you. you don’t know that you’ve been on her mind everyday even though you’ve been broken up. that all she ever wants to do is just call you up and fuck you till she feels better.

“you know exactly what i mean y/n.” she says looking down at you. “i can’t just pretend like nothing happened between us.”

“hey! i’m not asking you to do that. i came over here to talk to you, because i’ve missed you paige. i really have.” you blurt out and you swore you could see her eyes move down to your lips for a quick second.

“i also want you to know that i’ve changed. i really have, i’m not the same as i used to be and i’m not scared anymore.” you add before paige could get a word in.

girl don’t act like you’ve changed

when we both know you can’t

those words were exactly what she wanted to hear but she just couldn’t let herself give in so easily. if you really missed her so much why did you never think to text? or call? paige would’ve died to know this information sooner.

“don’t… don’t say that. we both know it’s not true.” she replied looking down at you, this time with more fire in her eyes.

you felt hurt a little at her comment, but deep down you knew it was true. you have missed paige ever since you broke up but you’ve been too scared to do anything. scared of her rejection.

“look i’m sorry. i truly am. for everything. can we just hang out and see where the night goes?” you ask with a small smile on your face.

she was quiet for a second but then she nodded. she grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the dance floor. her hands rested on your waist as you moved yours to her neck.

god you had missed this. the feeling of her hands on your body. knowing that her eyes are on you no matter where you’re looking. you had missed everything about her.

and i know you love me

‘cause i think you’re lovely

so of course it wasn’t a surprise when you two ended up taking an uber back to her place later that night. you were now laying on her bed as she continued pumping her large fingers inside of you.

your moans filled the room as you watched paige’s every move. the way her toned arms moved as she fucked you harder. you couldn’t believe this was actually happening right now. the girl you loved was finally doing all the things you had been dreaming about for the past two months.

“oh paige.... missed this so bad.” you breathed out as paige was hitting all the right spots.

“yeah baby? you missed me fucking you like the little slut you are?” she said causing you to let out another string of loud moans. the sound was like music to her ears. “gonna give it to you just how you want it.”

girl check my coat

drop that ass on the floor

she stopped her movements before looking at you once again. “turn around.” she said blankly. you did as she said turning around so your back was now facing her.

she ran to her closet to grab a box. she opened it to reveal the strap she had used on you multiple times before. she smirked as she noticed you watching her.

once she had it on she was pulling you over to her. without a warning she was pushing up into you as your ass slapped down against her thighs.

“oh my god! fuck p! feels so good.” you yelled out as her pace started to become quicker. she placed a smack to your ass before grabbing it hard. she gripped onto your hips pushing you down further on her cock. you knew there was going to be marks left from that.

see you move on that pole

baby look at you go

“doing so good for me baby.” she let out moving her hands to cup your tits. she ran her fingers across your nipples as she started to leave kisses on the back of your neck.

your moans became louder as she continued pleasuring you. you knew you were close and you knew she could feel it too.

“paige.. ‘m gonna cum!” you said as another moan slipped from your mouth.

“want you to cum all over my cock.” she replied making you look back at her before she pushed herself into you once more.

you released all over her cock, just like she had suggested. you tried to catch your breath as you came down from your high.

she cleaned the two of you up before laying back down in the bed next you. she let out a small sigh before saying, “that was… fuck i don’t even know what to say. i’ve definitely missed that.”

you chuckled at her words, feeling yourself blush at the fact that she could barely form a sentence. “me too paige. i’ve missed you a lot.” you replied as you laid your head down on her chest.

she placed a soft kiss to your forehead and wrapped her arms around your waist. her hands stroked your hair while you both drifted off to sleep.

⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed! any type of interaction is appreciated :,)

⇾ thank u sm for reading!! i hope you guys enjoyed.. look out for more fics this week <3

[trustmypoison]

SVT when you discover a mixtape/playlist for you

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘The reader (bestie; if you're comfortable) stumbles upon a mixtape (or playlist) created by them, only to realize every song was chosen to express feelings they never had the courage to say aloud…✨'

Seungcheol

You two are driving somewhere and he hands you his phone to change the music. You happen upon a playlist with your name as the title and click into it out of curiosity. You’re perplexed by the tone of some of the things on this list and you don’t realize how long you scroll through the playlist. “Not finding anything?” Seungcheol asks, breaking you out of your little investigation. You exit out of it, picking another playlist. “You just have a lot of playlists, that’s all,” you excuse. You aren’t sure how to broach the topic of how or why that playlist came to be. You eventually decide to just let him come to you in his own time. 

Jeonghan

He’s sleeping over the moment he has a day off. Yet, he forgot to turn off his alarms the night before, so he groans and nudges you to turn it off when it starts blaring. You groan and blindly slap for the phone, shutting off the alarm. “Turn off the others,” he grumbles from underneath the covers. You sigh, unlocking the phone, which is left open to his music app on a particular playlist. You hum to yourself at the name, turn off the alarms, and lay back down. “We’ll talk later about it,” you say. “About what?” He mumbles. “About how you’re so in love with me that you make a playlist for me.” He sits up fast to glare at you and you push him back down. “Shhh! Go back to sleep,” you demand. He listens only because it buys him some time to come up with an explanation. 

Joshua

You both are baking together and he’s playing the music to the speaker. He’s too busy whisking something when he asks you to change the song. You unlock it and scroll through the playlists and smile sneakily as you pick the one that’s named after you. His head perks up when he hears the first song, but you can tell he’s realized what you’ve seen by the third song. “What are we listening to?” “My playlist, apparently,” you smile with your back to him. “Yeah, about that,” he starts. You let him take his time and talk over it as you eat your dessert later. 

Jun

You don’t know mandarin but have been trying to learn a little as a surprise for Jun. He’s busy driving when he hands you his phone to change the music. One of the playlist titles sticks out to you because it has your name in it, amongst a lot of mandarin that you aren’t familiar with. But curiosity gets the better of you and you sneak to share the playlist with yourself. You pick another playlist and he’s none the wiser. But later, you go through the playlist and look up translations. You start adding your own selection of love songs to the playlist until he notices. 

Hoshi

You’re at the dance studio with him, goofing off on one of his days off. He’s told you to pick a song, and you do. He’s jokingly swinging you around in a very messy ballroom dance when it goes to the next song and his face turns pale. “Why did you choose this playlist?” You’ll give him a questioning look as he rushes to the phone to turn it off. “I didn’t, I picked a song and I guess it started a playlist? Are… you okay? Something you want to talk about?” He works up the courage to say ‘yes’ and let you listen to the playlist, hoping it does a lot of the explaining for him. 

Wonwoo

Mingyu’s on FaceTime while Wonwoo has his hands full, so he asks you to handle the phone. When you both hang up with Mingyu, his phone is unlocked to a certain artist, one that surprises you. “I didn’t know you were into this artist,” you muse. Wonwoo’s eyes widen but he’s helpless to stop you from seeing that a lot of these songs are saved to a playlist, complete with the playlist name. He simply says, “I know you like them, so I started listening,” he excuses. You let him get away with this for now, but you saw the hearts in the playlist name that accompanied your name. You’ll let him come to you, but it’s nice to know that he has a bit of a soft spot for you. 

Woozi

Now I feel this can only be a studio mishap. You know enough about his programs and equipment that you sometimes help him when he records demos. You man the computer while he’s in the booth to ensure the recording is working properly. “Okay, pull up the next track. The folder should be open already,” he says through the mic in the booth. The folder is open, with a bunch of others as well, including one with your name in it. Curiosity gets the better of you. The files are all untitled, but there are dozens. “Did you find it?” He asks from the booth. You snap back to attention, pulling up the proper folder and opening the right file to let him continue working. You’ll let him keep his secret for now until he’s ready to share. 

DK

Say you both are traveling together - car, plane, subway, doesn’t matter. You guys are sharing headphones during the long trip and handing the phone back and forth to pick a playlist. His eyes widen as he watches you stop scrolling on a playlist hat he wishes he would just delete and then he’s grimacing as you press play on it. You give him a curious look as you realize the nature of all of the songs. “I can explain,” he mumbles. He’s only sort of relieved when you smile and say, “okay” encouragingly, because now he has to formulate a confession that makes any sort of sense. 

Mingyu

He’s cooking dinner for you both when you start to complain about the song that’s playing. He rolls his eyes, handing you his phone for you to change it. You uncover a playlist named after you, slyly starting the first song. His shoulders tense from where he’s has his back to you. You watch him shrink nervously at the beginning of every song and you eventually take pity on him. “I have one named after you too, you know?” Watch him light up like a Christmas tree. You guys share your lovesick playlists with each other over dinner. 

Minghao

Now I get the vibe that he’s effortlessly romantic, even to the point that he doesn’t like to acknowledge how romantic he can be. So, when you find multiple playlists full of love songs on his phone, you begin to tease him. He would like to deny, deny, deny, but he has to watch you come to the realization that those aren’t just any love song playlists. He knows when you spot that the names of all of them have your initials in them. You lose your teasing edge and simply ask with wide eyes if they’re for you. He’ll shrug, not really a confirmation or a denial. Confessing like this isn’t ideal, if only because it’s not romantic enough to him, so he bites his tongue to avoid saying anymore. 

Seungkwan

Now, not all of them can be so obvious. You come across some playlists that are labeled with a ton of hearts without anything else and you turn sly. “Awe, Kwannie, do you have a crush? You made a cute little playlist for them.” You even go as far as to play the playlist and try to embarrass him. And it works a little. He flushes, shoving you by the shoulder lightly. “And you don’t have a cute playlist like that on your phone?” You bristle, because you most certainly do and you have naively named it after him. But he recognizes you have something to hide and wrestles for your phone to see for himself, leaving you confused about how he turned this on you so quickly as you do your best to dodge him. 

Vernon

I get the vibe that he might enjoy physical media more (I will write an au about this one day, I swear!!!). So picture him having a CD collection that you regularly go through to discover music. Some of them are in cases, but many of them are just stored in stacks to flip through. Somewhere in one pile, you find one with your name on it. After only a split second of hesitation, you drop it into your pile. If he notices its absence, he never says so. It’s your favorite playlist since you saved a copy of it to your phone. I highly recommend sharing this playlist with him one day just to see if it elicits a confession. 

Chan

Oh, the playlist wasn’t a secret. You’re the one that made it. You even put a ton of hearts in the name yourself as a joke. Now he’s on tour and you wake up to see that he’s still awake and listening to your playlist. Will just send you a thumbs up when you ask if he’s good. He is not good when he listens to the playlist you made and it’s actually a comfort to have it when he has to be away. His list of what he listened to most at the end of the year will tell on him, because the whole playlist is there. He might let you misinterpret this for a while, letting you believe he only feels friendship for you and just misses you for that reason when he’s away. 

[bad268]

heyy could you write a kimi x reader story where the reader is american? sorta inspired by olivia rodrigo’s so american possibly? tyyy love your writing

So American (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X American! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (thank you lovey! I'm sorry this is short, olivia rodrigo is not my main type of music, so this was the first time I heard it lol)

Warnings: Aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 840

Summary: So American by Olivia Rodrigo

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

God, you were gonna marry him if he kept this shit up. He was just perfect, and you were sure you were in love. 

Kimi was written by a female, you could tell. The way he was just all around perfect, you couldn’t get over it. He was the perfect person to be with, the perfect gentleman, and the best companion. You would happily follow him anywhere he went.

Late-night drives were the best. Where you two would fly down the nearly empty roads, your feet up on the dashboard, you two felt free. Granted, late-night drives did not happen as much as you wanted them to since his schedule was so hectic, and they were only really used to help you two go to sleep. You would happily sit in the passenger seat, wearing one of Kimi’s shirts and sweatpants as you picked the best music to pick the vibes.

“You’re so American,” Kimi chuckled one night when you played Party in the U.S.A.

“This is what makes you think I’m American?” You chuckled back, moving to change the song.

“No, leave it,” Kimi stopped you, moving his hand from the shifter to push your phone down and hold your hand. “I like that you’re so American. It’s cute.”

“Ah, you think I’m cute?” You joked, making your voice an octave higher.

“Of course I do,” He chuckled again, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “You’re the cutest.”

God, it wasn’t fair! How could this vroom vroom guy make you feel this much? If he kept this shit up, you might be in lo-

That drive made you realize you didn’t just love Kimi, but you were in love with him. He was everything to you and that interaction helped put that into perspective for you. You were infatuated with him. You would talk about him any chance you could to anyone who would listen. You could not stop thinking or talking about him. His style and his interests became yours. You used to be such a homebody, fully content with sleeping the day away, but man,  it’s hard to sleep when he’s with you.

It was one of those off weekends during the summer break. Mercedes gave their drivers the first week completely off. No media, no training, no nothing. Just a free break to rest, recuperate, relax and recharge. Kimi decided to spend it in America with you. He had only been to America for the Miami Grand Prix, but he wanted to visit your hometown and stay for a while. His family was fine with it since it’s easier to stop by Italy when most of the races are in Europe. America is a little farther away.

And you two did exactly what he wanted. You took him around your neighborhood, showed him around all of your favorite spots, and had fun not abiding by the harsh racing schedule for a week. It was nice to just stop and be teens for a week. It wasn’t until the night before he had to head back to Brackley for media and training that you realized you didn't want to let him go again.

You both laid in bed, a movie long forgotten in the background. Kimi was asleep, but you were wide awake. You were busy memorizing every feature of his face, counting his freckles, twirling his curls. You watched his breaths steady as he fell Anything, everything, and nothing all at the same time. You didn’t want him to go back yet.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or will you eventually go to sleep?” Kimi’s groggy voice broke you out of your trance. You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize he woke up. You stared at him in shock, and when his word registered, your eyes became watery. Of course, being the ever-attentive boyfriend he is, Kimi noticed immediately, making a move to sit up and turn on the lamp. He pulled you into his arms and held you against his chest, “Hey, amore (love), what’s going on? You can talk to me.”

“I don’t want you to go back yet,” You whimpered as you hid your face in his chest. “I’m sorry if it’s a little too much or a little too soon, and I don't wanna assume this stuff, but do you love me? I think I’m in love with you, and I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.”

“Hey, slow down,” Kimi comforted, pulling you back a little to rest his forehead against yours to look you in the eyes. He whispered, “Ti amo mille (I love you so much).”

“God, I wanna marry you,” You sighed with a light laugh. “Is it too soon to say that?”

“No,” He laughed with you, pulling you into a brief kiss. “I can always take you with me. I wouldn’t mind having il mio Americano (my American) with me for a while. I’d love it actually.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[mywritersmind]

DOOMED FOR ONE ANOTHER - LN4

summary : Forced to never forget. He loved her, she loved him. It seemed easy but the moment those words met the cool air, everything changed. They had the type of love that wasn’t in story books about romance, it was the type that was in horror stories.

listen up : crazy moody today ig. hope u like bc it’s actually interesting and deep for once. dual pov!!

word count : 2040

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The first time they met, he saw her sitting at the bar.

She was alone, in a cocktail dress with her legs crossed, sipping on a martini. There was a faux fur coat hanging over her chair. She wasn’t on her phone, or listening to music, she was just sitting with the world around her.

Lando Norris was well acquainted with the female species. He’s met pretty woman, he’s dated pretty women, he’s fucked pretty women.

She wasn’t just a pretty woman.

“I’m Lando.” She didn’t shake his hand, didn’t smile or giggle… she just nodded.

“I know who you are.” She brought the martini to her lips again and Lando felt his mouth open a bit, “Do you know who I am?”

He slipped into the seat next to her, “No. Should I?”

Then it happened, the corners of her perfectly lush lips tugged upward. “Nope.”

And thus started a beautiful friendship. Yes, I say friendship because neither of them expected to fall in love with each other. Even if everyone seemed to hope they would.

⋆༺

Her apartment was a mess like usual. I pushed open the door with two coffees in my hand, house keys, and the purse she made me bring all the way from Monaco to New York.

I managed to get to her room without stepping on any of her loose clothes, books, or instruments. She was lying on her bed, her head hanging off the side and her hands lazily strumming her guitar.

She was wearing a pink nightgown that scrunched up on her thighs, a faux fur coat, and headphones. Her head finally tilted back far enough to see me standing there, staring at her.

I used to worry about her a lot because of her reaction time and how she never realized I was staring. Yet I stopped thinking about it after it allowed me to watch her before we would hang out.

That sounds creepy, I know. But just like the first time I met her, I could get a read on her body language or emotions, I would look at her outfit and how much jewelry she would be wearing, I would just look at her for one quiet moment.

“Lan!” She screamed far too loud and stood up at lightning speed, hugging me. “My angel, you’re back!” She grabbed the coffee she knew was hers from my hands and spun around, hopping back onto her bed and sitting on her feet.

I pushed the clothes off her chair and sat on it, “Someone came up to me and asked if I was your friend today.”

I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee, “One day, we’re going to be walking around and people will swarm around you and ask who the idiot next to you is.”

She sighed, sipping her coffee, “And I’d tell them that if they’re true fans, they’d know who my best friend is.” She leaned back on her pillows and stuffed animals.

“Right!” I let out a laugh, “You would definitely say I'm some freak following you.”

Her eyes got serious for a second, “I’d never pretend to not know you, Lando.”

I shook my head, “How’s the writing coming along?”

“If you’ve come here just to bug me about my music, then I will kick you back onto the streets.” She’s a musician.

I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know her… but she had just put out her debut album and I had just officially become an F1 driver.

She claimed she wasn’t a fan of the sport, yet would text me non stop about ‘gossip’ she heard from her ‘credible’ sources. Her sources were F1 twitter.

She let me listen to her music, humming along to the songs without lyrics and singing without any instrument to the songs without background music.

I don’t remember when I fell in love with her. It wasn’t a specific time or place, I just sort of knew one day.

⋆༺

I always loved him in a suit.

I liked his hair and the way the curls just fit with something so neat and tailored to him. Lando looked bored, an expression I didn’t see on his face a lot when he was with me.

But that day and that banquet… it was so slow and I was so off my usual game. I had secrets and Lando could tell. I thought he was going to confront me about them when he brought me outside.

“Lan, there’s a speaker!” I whispered to him as he took my hand.

“When have you ever cared about shit like that? Come on.” His hand was cold, I remember that. I actually remember everything from that night.

We slipped out the back door and he started laughing. I didn’t know why, but I also didn’t ask a lot of questions.

The banquet was in a stuffy hall, but the back garden was beautiful and miles long. I laughed with him, hurrying down the steps as fast as I could in my heels.

He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. “I couldn’t breathe in there.” He runs a hand through his curls, tilting his head back so his Adam's apple is more pronounced and his eyes are looking to the sky.

“Wanna get out of here?” I asked because I was getting cold and could tell he needed a change of scenery.

That’s when I noticed a difference. The way he looked at me just then, it was like everything I had dreaded came true in one singular moment. “No.” He had said it quietly but I felt like he had a megaphone. “I need to talk to you.”

“Lando…” I said his full name that time because I wanted him to know that for once in my life, I was being serious. I was warning him.

“I love you.” He was breathless and I'll never forget the look on his face. It was almost as heartbreaking as the look he gave me five seconds later, when I didn’t respond.

I loved him, of course I had.

But I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for a relationship or for him. I wasn’t ready for everything to change or for him to suddenly start kissing me instead of hugging.

I wasn’t ready to be loved.

“Please…” He was holding my hands now, “I can’t not love you. I know you love me too.” That made me feel nauseous.

How could he know?

I kept everything close to me and had never tried to kiss him, I never even joked about it!

“I can’t…” Is all I said before pulling my hands away.

His face turned sullen, his arms limp at his sides, “You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not!” I didn’t mean to say it as defensively as I did.

“Bullshit.” Lando never raised his voice at me, but he did then.

“You don’t get to tell me my feelings!” I stepped farther away, ignoring every instinct to get closer.

His eyes were piercing me, “Tell me you don’t then.”

I was shaking my head as he begged, “Tell me you don’t love me! Say it to my face.” I couldn’t say anything, and he knew me too well because of it. “Break my heart, then. Do it.”

“Lan…”

“Don’t ‘Lan’ me!” He stepped closer, his hands going to my arms again, “Fucking break me or never talk to me again! I can’t pretend I don’t love you and I know you can’t stay friends with me when you know that I do.”

His voice broke and my tears started. Lando Norris knew every part of me. He watched my facial expressions, my body language. He watched me get dressed and he watched me break a million guys' hearts.

He watched me loudly do what I love but that was always music, and never him.

That’s why I had to walk away. It’s why I couldn’t admit loving him. It’s why I cut all contact, It’s why I hated myself. It’s why I pretended I didn’t know him, even though he haunted everything in my life.

⋆༺

I love my friends. But I think I'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

Carlos forced me to come to his girlfriend's party. Rebecca is nice and all but as I watch Franco get surrounded by models and Charles whispering in Alexandra’s ear, I’m seriously regretting saying yes.

I’m in a suit and zoning out with champagne in my hand, leaning against the bar as the noise around me gets louder.

“Lando!” I already know it’s Carlos, glancing back to see him hurrying over to me, “Lando!”

“What?” I ask, tired and wishing I was more drunk.

“Rebecca has a girl for you!” my immediate instinct is to run but he slaps his hand onto my shoulder and grips it tightly, “Hey! You’ll love her! She’s a musician and very pretty!”

I groan, “Carlos, no.”

“Mate, come on! You never date and I think you’ll actually love her!” He’s right. I don’t date. I have sex, I hook up, I have benefits but no friends. “It’ll be good for you.” And for a second, I believe him.

Maybe it would be good for me. It’s been over a year since my heart was ripped apart and stomped on by a type b, adhd, singer.

“Just meet her.” He says and I hesitate before shrugging, “Yes! Oh, here they come!”

I stand up straight and sip my champagne, hoping the alcohol will hit me fast. The moment I turn, The moment Rebecca smiles and starts to speak, I can’t breathe.

“Lando this is-” I don’t need to keep listening to know. She’s right there. In front of me.

The girl who ripped my heart out is right there, wearing the same shoes she stomped on it with. I’m not prepared for this, for her. Her face tells me she feels the same way but is far more calm than I am.

When she holds out her hand for me to shake, I feel sick. I shake it, not saying anything. She looks the same… but different.

Her hair is longer and her makeup is done differently. She’s wearing barely any jewelry but I can smell her perfume and I just know it’s the same one I got for her at some corner stone in brooklyn.

“It’s really nice to meet you.” She sounds strong. She sounds like she’s lying, but maybe that’s because she is.

“I wish I could say the same about you.” No one else would be able to tell, but after years of examining her, I don’t miss the way her mouth quirks. I say it because I would never pretend to not know her, no matter how hard it was to make eye contact with her today.

I know Carlos is horrified, “Norris!”

But I don’t care.

For once, I didn’t see her coming. I didn’t get to have that moment of peace where I could revel in her.

I avoided her, mostly. We never ran in the same circle… except for now, I guess… but I saw friends of friends posting about her concerts or new music. I saw her on Dominic Fikes album and I saw her kissing his cheek two days after that.

I heard the rumors and the second that one of the guys called her pretty, I clocked out.

I never saw her in person though. I would be paranoid every time I was at a music festival or even saw someone wearing close to the same faux fur jackets she adored. But I haven’t seen her for over a year, until now.

Rebecca looks uncomfortable and Carlos looks straight up scared. I’m lucky that they get pulled away but I'm unlucky that she gets closer to me. She used to tease me the same way she’s looking at me now.

I expect her to say something profound, maybe even an apology. But then I remember who she is. That Cheshire-like smile greets her lips again as her thick lashes blink, “I’ve always loved you in a suit.”

[you-are-constance]

one of my favorite things about a lot of different musicals is when they have their opening number reprised in their finale, the same melody and lyrics having an entirely new meaning to them thanks to the context of the rest of the show.

and obviously there are a Ton of examples (Wicked, Come From Away, The Outsiders, SpongeBob... i know there are others i can't think of them), but there are two specific shows that I genuinely think are examples of the absolute best use of this.

to me, those two examples are Cabaret and The Great Gatsby.

like the other examples listed, each time this sort of thing happens, there is new meaning given to the same song thanks to the rest of the show happening in between, but both Cabaret and Great Gatsby have it in like... a very chilling way.

In Willkommen and Roaring On, these are both somewhat upbeat songs, introducing the club, the parties, the energy that the audience is Supposed to feel at this point. nothing else matters in the world, only the thrill of endless entertainment.

but this isn't what these shows are about. there are much darker stories going on underneath, and by the time we get to the finale, the audience is changed along with the characters - but the song is the same. Nothing else Matters. only the thrill of Endless Entertainment. We have No Troubles Here.

but another thing that i find so musically fascinating is that it's not just the audience's perception of the song that changes, no the music itself helps to drive the audience to those realizations. at the orchestra's break in Willlkommen (finale), it begins very similar to the opener, but gradually adds more and more dissonance, making it harder and harder to even bear listening to. In Roaring On (finale), the ensemble lines are just slightly more staccato, slightly more dissonance, slightly more unnerving to listen to.

it's just so fascinating to watch a musical, and have the same song mean something so incredibly different, just because of the context it exists within, and very slight musical changes.

[505oclock]

Just Friends (18+ mdni)

rafe cameron x barry x f!reader

where rafe and barry are your best friends, but won’t stop at the first chance to put you to work.

first obx fic so pls be nice !! and lmk if u want a part two!! <3

warnings: might lead to smut?? drugs, a little bit of objectification

you’re honestly not sure how you stumbled into the friendship of barry and rafe. you had grown up around kooks and pouges, but never really fit in with either of them.

you guessed that’s how you ended up here, hanging out with the neighborhood drug dealer and kook prince, the two people you really felt yourself around.

they loved their weed and coke, but you really only stuck to alcohol. you loved getting fucked out of your mind, and coke and weed didn’t really do that for you. barry and rafe we’re the opposite, but all substances had you all in a different head space.

it was a saturday night and the three of you had no plans; this resulted in you on barry’s couch, drinking beer and watching the boys take turns on the blunts barry rolled earlier.

“just one hit princess” rafe begged you to take a hit of the blunt. They had yet to witness you high, and were dying to see it happen.

“you gotta give it another go eventually, listen to country club over here” barry clapped rafes shoulder, the both of them pleading with you. You had smoked before, but it honestly wasn’t your thing. You thought it was cute hwo much they wanted to see you smoke.

“I know i knkw i will eventually, just not tonight”

they both groaned and you smiled wide, since it was your routinely response everytime the three of you hung out.

You were running low on your beer, “Gonna go grab another, you guys need anything?” You asked as you stood up, fixing your shorts that kept riding up.

“Nope” they said in unison, focused on the video rafe was showing barry on his phone. However, their attention drifted from the phone as you walked to the kitchen, your ass looked fantastic in the shorts you were wearing.

While the three of you were strictly friends, there was no denying the underlying sexual tension that surrounded the three of you everytime you guys hung out alone. You thought both of the guys were hot, and when rafe and barry were alone, they couldn’t help thinking about how it would be to spend a night with you. The attractive was naturally undeniable.

And while you three could keep it together normally, something different was in the air tonight.

A few beers later, whilst you were still aware and in control, you were the perfect drunk. This meant you were extra talkative and a little too horny for your own good.

Rafe and Barry were high out of their minds, between the shared blunts and lines they were snorting, and they couldn’t keep their eyes of off you. You were a giggling mess, eyes bright and glossy, and you’re smile so bright it made them feel a way they shouldn’t feel

“Oooh i loveee this song!” you jump up when the speaker starts playing, and start silly dancing. the boys just watch you and roll their eyes, used to this.

With the extra alcohol in you, you start really dancing to the music, swaying your hips, doing a hw most. While it’s completely innocent on your end, the guys change their composure as they watch you.

“Cmon- Cm-dance with me!” you’re a giggling mess, oblivious to your effect over the two men in front of you. You bite your lip in a smile as you grab rafes hands and pull him off the couch.

He smirks at you, then at Barry, as he hovers behind you as you continue to dance to your song. You sway to the music, and before you realize it, Rafe is swaying too, with his hands firm on your hips.

His hands slowly move up and down your waist, completely innocent. you play into it, continuing to dance, feeling his hot fingers trace up and down you.

It hits you what you’ve done, when his hands start tracing up, closer to your tits. Through the fog of alcohol, you can sense him, and decide to make a subtle move. You grab his sliding hands, guiding them to your tits, squeezing on them with his hands. This sobered you up to how close he was to you, feeling the heat of his breath on your neck.

You smiled at Barry through hazy eyes, watching as he used one hand to smoke his blunt and the other resting on his crotch.

Rafe whispered in your ear, “This okay princess?”

Your “mmmhm” was all he needed as he started planting kisses on your neck, his hands moving down to grip harshly on your hips. He found the soft spot on your neck and sucked, evoking a small moan from you.

“Country clubs got ya fucked up, huh, princess?” Barry says, locking eyes with you as Rafe continues to attack your neck.

You vite your lip to suppress a moan, feeling rafe get hard on your ass “mmmf” is all your foggy head can get out, before you realize barry has gotten up and is walking towards the two of you.

“Can’t expect me to sit here and not join,” he smiles as he comes close and kisses you, placing his hands on your waist. Barry doesn’t waist time, sticking his tongue down your throat as he slips a hand down your waistband.

It was all too much. Rafes hard dick on your ass, placing kisses down your neck, while barry kisses you deep and plants his fingers on your pussy

“We’ll take good care of you baby” Rafe slurrs as his hands make it back up to your tits, more aggressively this time.

“Gotta get princess out of her clothes so we can see her pretty tits, hm, country club?” Barry smirks as he rips your shirt over your head, Rafe undoing the claps of your bra to let your breast spill out.

“Fuck” the guys say in uníson, making themselves laugh. It hits you how tucked up you all are right now.

“You’re a pretty girl, princess” Rafe whispers in your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

“So pretty” Barry agrees “Gonna be our girl for the night princess? Can you do that for us?” Barry asks

“Yes, i can be your girl” You tell them, excited to see where this night will take you.

[cherryswisherz]

triggered

jana x oc

warnings: oc is going through a breakup

get it the fuck together jaz. lock. in. 

staring into the mirror, i study every aspect of my face. my curls flow down my back. my face is beat to perfection. the jewelry i have on costs more than my rent. 

i should be ecstatic.

i'm living every girls dream. 

there are 5000 people outside this bathroom door, chanting my name, waiting for me to give them memories they'll die with. 

and yet i'm in here, staring at myself, fighting the urge to say fuck this shit and go home. 

my phone dings, and i ignore it, thinking it's my manager, telling me i need to haul ass and get on stage. 

but then it dings again. 

holly never texts twice. 

i pull out my phone and it's paige. 

i forgot she's here. 

paigey be you. be great.

oh fuck her for that. 

now i have  to go on. 

with a sigh, and a quick tune up in the mirror, i open the door, march to the stage entrance and wait for my que. 

the music starts and i walk with all the confidence i can muster and smile at the deafening screams of my name. 

jazmin! jazmin! jazmin!

paige is front and center, with all her teammates and azzi. 

i used to be the number one pazzi shipper. i fought for this relationship to happen. i practically shoved paige out of the closet myself so that she and azzi could be together. 

and now here they are with my face on their shirts and holding each other in their arms and i want to throw up. 

not because i don't want them together, but because seeing that makes the loneliness in my chest seem bigger. 

i don't even really miss her.  i just miss having someone to call at 3 am when i can't sleep. i miss having someone to call first when i get news. i miss having someone to hold. 

i guess you could say i miss being in a relationship, rather than the person i was in a relationship with. 

"hey guys !" i yell into the mic, and everyone screams. "thank you all for coming out today, i love you all so much!" the crowd is deafening. "i wanna give special shout out to my sister, paige and the other members of the UCONN womens basketball team for being hear today!" the camera pans to paige and the girls, and i do a double take when i see a girl around my age, towering over everyone else. "i love you paigey!" the crowd goes wild. 

the concert began and i used my show to work through all the mixed emotions i was feeling, bringing my audience with me through them. 

we danced during my verse on my type. laughed during b.s. . cried during none of your concern.

and after an hour and 30 minutes of singing, dancing, crying, and yapping between songs, the concert was over. 

and i could a breathe again. 

until i was bombarded by my 6'1 sister and her ginormous friends. 

everyone told me how amazing i look and sound and how they listen to my music everyday. these are things i hear everyday so i say the same response i say everyday. 

"thank you so much." 

"aye we're boutta go to a club, you trynna roll with us?" paige asked, rubbing her hands together and looking at her girlfriend, who i'm just now realizing is wearing a semi-skimpy outfit. 

so is everyone else, actually. 

and now they're looking at me like i can't say no. 

so i don't. 

"uh yeah!" i chuckle uncomfortably. "just let me change real quick."

*luh time skip*

i'm actually glad i came out. 

we got a section. bottles galore. music is booming. 

the vibes are actually immaculate. i'm two shots in and kk is twerking in my lap as big boogie talks about taking caramel colored baddie to poundtown. we vibing for real. 

i've learned the beautiful girl from earlier is named jana. she doesn't really talk, and i guess she'd too young to drink because she's been babysitting ginger ale all night. 

"i'm gonna go get a bottle of casamingo!" i annouce, bouncing up from the counch and stomping down the stair of our section. 

when i reach the bar, i pay the bartender and wait for my bottle. but while i'm waiting i hear my name being called and i assume it's a fan, so i turn around with a huge smile, only to be slapped in the face with the sight of my ex-girlfriend, kristen.

she looks exactly the same as she did three weeks ago when we broke up. and for some reason that pisses me off. it makes my blood boil and my breath quicken. 

i'm ripped out of my trance when i hear the dj yell, "WE GOT JAZMIN INNA HOUSE!!!" 

fuck. he's gonna make me sing. 

"COME UP AND GIVE SOMETHING GIRL!" he shouts and everyone screams in agreement. 

in a daze, i walk to the stage and grab the mic. 

everyone chants, 

freestyle freestyle freestyle

and then the dj, who i'm beginning to really fucking hate, plays a beat i've never heard before, leaving me not knowing what the fuck to do. 

i look to our section, and see my sister with her phone up, recording. i see azzi giving me thumbs up like the sweetheart she is. i see kk clapping and cheering with everyone else. 

i see jana, with a look of fear in her eyes. 

like she can tell that i'm freaking fuck out, so she is too. 

but i can't go out like this. 

so i catch the beat, and sing whatever comes to mind. 

saying everything that's been on my mind for weeks now. 

"go figure you were the trigger you brought me to an obstructed view when you knew the picture was bigger who am i kiddin? knew from the beginnin you'd ruin everything you do it everytime you are my enemy, you are no friend of mine, muhfucka"

the crowd is loving it, swaying their flashlights to the music. paige looks so proud of me. she knows how i've been struggling since everything happened so i think she knows what a release this is. 

i look over to kristen who looks delectable, like always and it's pissing me off because the sex was great, but everything else sucked. but it's been so fucking long and i know that if i had 5 minutes to talk to her earlier i would have been back at square one in that toxic cycle of fucking and making up. 

"wanna fuck you right now i just turned the light out know and you know when the sun go down that's when it would all go down been a minute been a while ain't let nobody hit since you hit it i know you always know what to do with it but ain't no me and you without you in it damn i'm boutta burn this bitch down think i need to lie down cause i'm not trynna wild out now. but right now..."

i think of the screaming matches. the broken phone. the hole in my wall.

"don't know what i'm capable of might fuck around and go crazy on cuz might fuck around have to pay me in blood this ain't the way that you want it might catch a case in this bitch don't let m catch you face t face in this bitch trying my hardest not to disrespect you but after what you did, man what you expect? you muhfucka"

i find jana in the crowd because her face is so calming to me, and i don't know why. her eyes are closed and she's just vibing with a small smile on her face. 

she's not recording or anything, she's just enjoying the moment, and that warms my heart. 

"trynna let the time fly trynna let the time go by trynna let the time heal all trynna let the time kill all of our memories all you meant to me all that's history i'll calm down eventually fall back into me maybe i'm overeacting baby i don't know what happened you know all of my bad habits you know it's hard for me to control that shit man cuz when i get mad i get big mad shoulda never did that, get back in my bag in my feelings i'm a bad lil bitch and uh-"

i look back to kristen, who's wearing a pained expression on her face. 

good.

she know it's about her. 

"i'm triggered, when i see your face triggered when i hear your name triggered, i am not okay you need to stay out my what triggered when i hear your name triggered i am not okay you need to stay out my way." 

and then it's over, and the crowd cheers, and i hurry off the stage, back to my section where my friends all hug me and tell me that it was beautiful. 

and when the crowd settles, and i've taken another shot, because i felt entirely too sober, someone taps me on my shoulder. 

it's jana.

"can i get your number?"

"huh?" i ask confused as to why she'd want my number. 

"uh..." she looks around for a second. "i just wanna pay you back for the bottle."

jana hasn't been drinking.. why would she need to pa-

a light bulb goes off in my head and it all come together. 

"here." i hold my phone to hers and our contacts share to each other. 

am i ready for this?

probably not.

but.... we gotta start somewhere right?

niyah speaks lawd they got me writing a seriessss

taglist: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pboogerswbb @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @mrsarnold @wbbgetsmewetter @paigesbabygirl @ch12334

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad

[matildaanymore]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : billie eilish x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : Claire is best friends with billie eilish but what happens when she finds out she has a song written about their complicated relationship

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : alcohol

Billie was Claire’s best friend. She’s been by her side through thick and thin since birth. Finneas has watched the two grow up together and become closer each year. The girl has been there ever since Billie first released music in her bedroom. From her first song ‘Six Feet Under’ to her third album ‘Hit Me Hard And Soft’ coming out May 17th. Claire couldn’t be prouder.

She was currently getting ready to go to the release party for the album hosted by Interscope Records. She’s heard a few snippets of songs but Billie wanted her to hear the album in full along with everyone else. It wasn't like Billie to do that but Claire pushed it aside and it’s understandable since she’s not releasing any singles. The brunette was currently blow drying her hair while blasting Mac Miller from her speaker wondering about what the new music is going to sound like. After about 30 minutes and doing makeup she walked into her closet. The girl grabbed a basic tee along with some denim washed baggy skater jeans and finished off with a leather jacket and yellow lensed glasses. She grabbed her bag checking to see if she had everything with her (keys, makeup and other essentials) before heading to the friends and family listening party in LA.

Liked by billieeilish, dominicfike, sza and 256,000 others

claire: Bae’s listening party is tonite.

billieeilish : ahhh so excited!

➥ claire: ily

User : so jealous! What’s ur fav?

➥ claire : i haven’t heard any yet!

User : tell billie i said hi

dominicfike: see you there

➥ claire : see ya

tarayummyy : midnight!!

It was a pain to find a place to park, she didn’t realize how many people were invited. Anxiety rushed through the girls body. So many thoughts were buzzing around ‘Who’s going to be there’ ‘How many people are there’ ‘What if I'm late’.

Her thoughts were broken as soon as she walked into the room. Billie stood there waiting to greet the girl, screaming with excitement.

“Oh my god you made it” she screeched making peoples heads turn towards them as she pulled Claire into a hug.

“I did! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” it was the truth. Anything Billie did the girl had her full support. “Are you excited to hear the album” pulling away from the hug she stared at the girls face for 10 seconds before replying. “Of course I am! It better be good because I didn’t get an input this time" "It’s amazing! I’m going to go speak to more people. I was waiting for you to get here before I spoke to everyone else” with that Billie walked off but not before winking at the girl and flashing her a smile.

Claire looked around and spotted a bar automatically wandering over to it to grab herself a drink before going around to say hi to everyone else. She spotted Finneas talking with Claudia and one other girl who she didn’t recognise. 

“Hey Claire!” The strawberry blonde boy shouted out towards her. Walking over with a drink in hand she side hugged the boy as well as Claudia. She awkwardly stood there while the other conversed in conversation before her eyes landed on Billie again watching her every move and the way she interacted with people. She was so caring and so accepting towards everyone. Claire always knew that the girl would go far with music everything about her screamed rockstar. That's what she loved about her. Everything.

The girls would both say that over time their relationship has become complicated. The two grew up spending so much time together that their friendship became more. No one knew apart from the both of them of what happened behind closed doors. However tonight that changed...

Her thoughts got cut short after hearing the feedback from the mic indicating that Billie was about to start playing her album. Finneas no longer stood next to her but instead up on the stage with his younger sister. There were blue velvet couches to match the theme of the album cover color on the floor and one on the stage which was for the two O’Connells.

“Thank you all so much for being here, this album means a lot to me. It’s different to most of the stuff I've released but this is to my third album and a new era” the girl held up her drink which was echoed by everyone else in the crowd.

The first song ‘Skinny’ played and to say Claire was in tears is an understatement. She was bawling her eyes out listening carefully to each lyric that blasted through the speaks. She related to this song more than she wanted to. Her and Billie talk about everything and she knew this one hinted to the chats you've had together late at night.

It wasn’t long until LUNCH blasted through the speakers. This was one she’s not heard before nor even been mentioned.

 “I can eat that girl for lunch, yeah, she dances on my tongue, tastes like she might be the one’

Claire’s mouth was hung open. She was not expecting that opening but all she could think about was who “She” was. The girl felt jealous and she didn’t know why. Afterall her and Billie never had a label on anything.

 ‘Call me when you’re there, Said I bought you something rare and I left it under… Claire’

If her jaw wasn’t already touching the floor it sure is now. Some random girl sat next to her shaking her shoulders in shock. She had no idea who it was but all she could focus on was those blue eyes which were staring right back at her smirks forming on both of their lips. 

‘Taste like she might be the one’ The rest of the album they didn't take their eyes off of eachother. Something felt different after hearing that song. Something clicked. Billie watched her carefully analyzing her for each song she heard. This didn’t go unnoticed by her brother who was sitting back and watching everything fall into place.

Blue was the last song on the album. Claire obviously knew this one as she was in the room when Billie first wrote it years ago. It made her feel so proud that she put this on the album knowing everyone was waiting for her. And with that the album ended. People started getting up to get more drinks from the bar and to also congratulate the 22 year old on her new release. 

The curly haired girl finally found the girl after an hour giving her the biggest hug ever. Everything she did Claire admired her. In her eyes she was perfect. She always looked up to her. 

“Billie… What was that?” The girl cupped the singer's face. “What was what!” Billie grabbed the other girl's hands resting on her face and dropped them down between them still holding hands. “It sounded amazing! I loved it so much, it's definitely my favorite album you’ve ever made.” The girl giggled. “AND LUNCH! C’MON NOW” Claire almost shouted which caused Billie to shush her to quiet down. “We can talk about that later at the afterparty” and with that the girl disappeared again.

Liked by billieeilish, oliviarodrigo and 506,503 others

Claire: if anyone asks. The album is a work of art.

User: IM SO EXCITED! 2 HOURS NOW!

➥User: WHAT? IT’S OUT FOR ME NOW

➥User: timezones…

Oliviarodirgo : If anyone asks. I’m not okay.

➥Claire: me neither bae

User: I CANT WAIT ANY LONGER

billieeilish : whos that hottie

➥Claire: idk you tell me xoxo

➥Billeeilish : its you xoxo

Claire was stumbling around Billie’s house after a few drinks talking to random people with the new confidence buzz. As always Billie threw a party after every release to celebrate properly. 

People are going round saying how good her album was, even though they weren’t at the listening party but listened at midnight. 

That’s when Claire felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around a bit too quickly, stumbling around everywhere before grabbing ahold of the person's arms in front of her. She soon realized who it was. Billie stood there asking to pull her for a chat.

“Hey” this time Billie seemed nervous to talk. Claire turned her full body towards Billie before saying “Hey.” They both just stared into eachothers eyes trying to figure out what to say until Claire broke the silence. “Is the song ‘Lunch’ about me”. All the brunette did was look at the floor. Speechless. “Obviously it is…” she then rambled on about everything until she got shut up with a kiss…

A/N : Let me know if you want part 2. I think my writing is improving. lol, let me know! Also feel free to give me plot ideas! This one is over the place. AND THIS IS BILLIES BEST ALBUM. IF ANYONE WANTS TO GET ME TICKETS TO EVERY SHOW FEEL FREE TOO. I've listened to Billie since 2017 and not seen her once but its ok. NEXT YEAR IS MY YEAR TO SEE HER.

[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

Tag list:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes

[avatar-anna]

Classic Fall Fun

my mind is empty. i bought a halloween squishmallow and decorative pillows for fall. so i wrote a blurb about it. enjoy!

"Baby...What...?"

"I can explain!" you blurted, rushing over to your fiance.

"I hope you can," Harry murmured as he picked up a throw pillow from the couch. "I can hardly see the sofa under all these."

"There was a sale," you began. "I was only going to the craft store for puzzle glue because I finished my puzzle this morning and I wanted to hang it up, but then I saw the Fall and Halloween section and..."

"And you turned our living room into Halloweentown," Harry said.

"You remembered!" you said, trying to shift the subject off all the Fall decor that now lived in your home.

You really didn't mean to buy all the decorations—the throw pillows, the blanket with pumpkins and candy corns and warm toned leaves on it, the welcome mat that said, Hocus Pocus!, and all the little decorations that were perfectly arranged on the kitchen counter. You'd been proud of how perfect your home looked, how everything tied together so nicely. Now that Harry was here, though, you worried you'd overdone it. Or worse, he'd make you take it all back.

"Course I remember," Harry said. "You've only made me watch it every year since we've been together."

"I—I know it's a lot," you said, trying to hide a stuffed vampire holding a little pumpkin spiced latte behind you and out of his eyesight. "But you know I love decorating, I mean I did the whole house when we moved in—very tastefully, I might add—and I love the holidays an—and themes, and—You're laughing at me."

Harry shook his head, chuckling softly. He took your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. That was definitely not the reaction you were expecting. Some light teasing? Sure. Insisting you take at least some of it back? Probably. But you mentally crossed your fingers that you could keep it all. Right down to the mummy mugs and ghost candle holders.

"I've been waiting for this day, if I'm honest. I'm surprised it didn't come sooner. Starbucks changed their menu two weeks ago."

Blushing, you held Harry's hand as it rested on your cheek. "Do you hate it? If you hate it, I can scale it back."

"I love it," he said. "And I love you."

He led you to the couch where he took the same stuffed vampire you tried to hide and held it against his stomach. You took the blanket that rested on top of the couch and draped it over yourself and Harry, snuggling up close to his side. You kissed his cheek a couple times, stomach flipping when you felt his grin beneath your lips.

"No Halloween movies yet, because it's not October, but..."

"Way ahead of you," Harry said, reaching for the remote and firing up Netflix on the TV.

"I knew you liked the show as much as I do," you said with a grin.

"You realize it's actually quite hot out, right?" he said, but pulled you closer anyway as he made himself more comfortable.

You shushed him as the theme song played. You'd thought of that already, and the air conditioning was already pumping through the vents to make it the perfect temperature for hiding under the fluffy blanket. And drink warm drinks. And cuddle in bed with the twinkly lights you put up earlier while listening to music.

"I know it's silly. I know it's...a little over the top, but—"

"Hey, I think it's cute how excited you get over the holidays," he said. "And, just because I know how much you love Autumn, so I got you something."

"Autumn," you repeated, imitating his accent. "What did you get?"

"An appropriately themed seasonal puzzle that we can complete together."

Your eyes lit up immediately. "You bought us a puzzle?"

Harry kissed you repeatedly, his fingers holding your chin lovingly. "I happen to like this season too, you know. Not as much as you, but I do. And puzzles. And you. Easy math."

You sighed and rested against his chest, kissing him over the soft material of his shirt a few times. Harry said it was fine, but you could admit that your love for this particular season was a little intense. But you loved putting a room together, making it feel warm and inviting and festive. And each item you put in your cart was part of a vision you had, and once you had said vision, you had to make it come to life. It was how you ended up putting all the rooms together in the house when you and Harry moved in. He had input of course, but he knew you had a knack for decorating and trusted your judgement.

And you couldn't help but think of the future too. Yours and Harry's. You wanted to do this for your kids, to raise them in a home that was cheery and fun. It was something neither you nor Harry had yourselves growing up, so you wanted something new. New traditions that you could start together.

You couldn't wait to share a lifetime of feeling cozy and cuddling festive pillows with Harry. You couldn't wait to watch movies and do puzzles and make pumpkin flavored baked goods with him for the rest of your life, or sew costumes for your kids because what they wanted couldn't be found at the party store. You wanted all of it, and you wanted it with him.

"I really do love this show, you know. I'd never heard of it, and now I can quote it," Harry mumbled. His eyes were trained on the show playing in front of him while his fingers traced patterns on your arm idly. Then, he looked down at you and smiled. "Our first real tradition, don't you think?"

Your heart squeezed with delight. You knew Harry loved you, that was never a doubt in your mind. But hearing him say that, knowing that he had lofty visions of the future too, made you hold him just a little bit tighter.

[hunnysnoops]

Main Three + Craig with morbid/odd reader

“I want love to change my friends to enemies and tell me how it’s all my fault.”

Stan:

He lets you draw on him but instead of doodling you take a black marker and start to meticulously draw dotted lines and arrows like you’re a surgeon prepping him for cosmetic surgery.

While helping him with farm chores you go into detail about how you can compost and break down a corpse in soil, he just kinda nods along.

You give him tarot readings every week. He thought they were fake and just did it to entertain you until his week played out exactly like you said it would. When he realized he just froze up and went non verbal.

Stan- “Hey, do you have any spells to curse my dad?”

Met him when he was in his goth era.

The two of you were having a moment in the rain when you told him that he should’ve worn shoes with rubber soles in case he gets struck by lightning.

You started writing his eulogy when you were laying in bed together, bro was trying not to freak out. Just spam texted Kyle.

You’re date idea is taking him to an abandoned house.

You guys bonded over music. Now you help him write songs since you’re so used to writing poetry.

Reader- “You’re into music?”

Stan- “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reader- “Have you heard Carnival of the Animals, R. 125: Aquarium composed by Camille Saint-Saëns and performed by Philippe Entremont, Gaby Casadesus, and Yo-Yo Ma?”

Stan- “Can’t say I have.”

Kyle:

Has veiny arms so when the two of you are just chilling you’ll put your finger on one of the veins and start talking about what would happen if you severed it. He’s lowkey interested from a scientific standpoint.

You’ll straddle his hips and pull his lips back to look at his teeth, poking around in his mouth like a dentist. You’re inches apart.

Reader- “Wow, you have beautiful teeth.”

Kyle- “Thank you?”

He’s kinda fascinated by you but also repulsed by some of the things you do/say.

He came to your house and you were butchering your own meat, left right away.

You listen to The Cure together.

When you climb trees to look for birds and squirrels he’ll climb too to help you.

Will get mad annoyed after listening to you say incredibly out of pocket things while he’s trying to focus on something.

He’ll buy you little knickknacks that remind him of you.

Before he got to know you, he talked mad shit.

Sometimes gets super freaked out by your behaviour, you straight up give him the heebie-jeebies.

Reader- “So this is my collection of human teeth.”

Kyle- “All of those are yours, right?”

Reader- “Actually, none of them are mine.” 😁

Kyle- 😨

Kenny:

Sits through horror movies and weird foreign films with you. He didn’t like it at first but he came around and started sourcing out movies he’d think you like.

You took him to a Wicca ceremony and he had the time of his life.

You taught him how to make flower crowns and now he makes them all the time. He likes to give them to Karen.

When he sees something off-putting or creepy he will immediately take a picture and send it to you.

Reader- “Hey, it’s raining. Do you want to go look for earth worms and build a worm colosseum?”

Kenny- “Hell yeah.”

He likes to go for walks in the forest with you, you guys will look for bugs and pick them up or make them houses of leaves and twigs.

He’ll help you wash the skulls/bones you find.

Never really minded that you were weird, he approached you first because he thought you were hot.

He loves when you play with his hair and tie little braids into it.

You guys tried to recreate The Blair Witch Project but failed miserably when you actually got lost in the woods.

You’ll meet up at the graveyard and just sit in the grass while you talk about ghosts and ghouls. Sometimes you’ll walk around and stop at a specific grave and guess how they died.

Reader- “Would you rather be in Cannibal Holocaust or The Poughkeepsie Tapes?”

Kenny- “Erm, I gotta pick The Poughkeepsie Tapes.”

Craig:

Generally goes along with whatever you want to do.

Reader- “Can we go down to the riverbank to pickup fish heads and then eat out their eyes?”

Craig- “Yeah, sure.”

He’ll just watch you roll around in the mud or set little twig piles on fire, he won’t join in but he also won’t interfere.

You’ll talk to Stripe, not in the baby voice that people usually use to talk to animals but your tone will be dead serious like you’re talking to a grown adult.

The two of you will watch true crime documentaries together.

He’ll fuck up anyone who calls you weird or a freak.

When you’re out in public, you’ll point someone out and predict how they’re going to die.

There’s nothing you can do that’ll shock him, he’s unfazed by everything that you say.

Sometimes gets concerned with you around Stripe.

You’ll disappear for hours at a time and he’ll get worried, sending you a million texts then you’ll randomly show up at his door soaking wet or covered in dirt with no warning.

Craig- “Where have you been? You weren’t answering my texts.”

Reader- “I was meeting with a friend of mine who is alive.”

Craig- “Oh, that’s cool.”

Requests are open! I’m working through a couple right now. Thanks to the anon who requested this.

[anaargent]

FIVE WITH AN EMO⁉️⁉️Sorry if this is bad but I just can’t stop wondering what he would think about it

I got you, I loved it. comments are welcome

FIVE HARGREEVES X READER

Five season 1/2

Five was a grumpy brat, his first reaction upon seeing you was disbelief.

- What's with all that black clothing? Are you in mourning? - he starts to question you as he circles around you, watching like an old eagle - this is children's teeth hanging around your neck? - he says in shock.

-We're literally at a funeral, Five - you snap back grumpily - and this is my new style, accept it as soon as possible you annoying brat.

-What's up with that rude attitude, you punk? - Five snaps back irritably as he gets closer to you - Sorry, Grandpa, we're already in the future - you smile, ruffling his hair and running to take refuge behind Diego.

...

Still reluctant, Five tried to get used to his new lifestyle. Always ready with a joke or a witty comment about something, until the day he snuck into the house looking for you - "I'm just bored and you're this different from everything else" - finding you entertained with headphones as you danced absentmindedly around the room, immersed in a little world all your own.

-Are you struggling in pain or something? - Five enters the room after watching you dance for longer than he would admit - Do you need a doctor? - He sprawls on your bed, looking too comfortable in your space.

-get out of here, grandpa - You take off your headphones and stare at Five - Weren't you stopping the apocalypse or something dramatic like that? - You kick his legs off your bed and sit next to him - Unfortunately, I'm on an unwanted day off, much to your joy, what are you doing? - he asks with a disdainful air as he snatches the headphones from your hand and puts them on.

-nothing you like, little psychopath - you laugh, watching Five listen intently to the music, it was a random song by BVB, his grimace slowly turned into contemplation, and you could have sworn you saw the shadow of a smile before he jumped into space with your headphones - hey you bastard - you screamed when you realized the theft.

Five season 3

You couldn't tell at what point exactly the old-fashioned, talkative Five became your music companion, he still made faces at your clothing choices and hairstyles, and made comments about your "rebellious age". But you could easily notice his occasional appearance whenever you listened to music, always criticizing you when you skipped his favorites, claiming they were the least bad ones, he was a terrible liar. He also accompanied you to a concert - "I'm just making sure you don't get mixed up with other punks and disappear"

-wasn't the apocalypse supposed to happen in three days? You should be trying to stop it, but here you are - you grumble at him - but here you are like a punk.

-I'm not here for this nonsense - Five stops talking as soon as he sees the band enter, his attention now focused on the band with an idiotic smile. - Nonsense, you're more excited than me, you fangirl.

FIve just lets out a guilty laugh and shrugs, no sarcastic responses, just accepting the fact that maybe, just a little bit of him enjoyed all of this.

Five season 4

- Im hooome, you won't believe it, I got two tickets to...- Five stops in the middle of the living room,frozen with an envelope in his hand.- What is this? What happened to your clothes? - he asks terrified. looking for any trace of black clothes, worn-out Converse, ripped jeans, even the damn slicked-back hairstyle you chose to wear sometimes.

It had been a few weeks since Five had left on a mission for the CIA, which means you hadn't had any contact with him during that time. You had a bit of a change. Maybe a bit radical. You can just smile and take a little walk, showing off your pink cowboy outfit with sparkles and sequins.

-now I'm a fan of Chappel Roan.

[kanhotep]

Spoiler Warning for the new Helluvaboss Episode

The more I think about the episode and listen to this absolute epic song, the more awed I am.

Like, first of all, we were all so worried about Vassago and he is such a sublime diva, I love him.

But what really broke me (besides the obvious) was Satan calling Lucifer "The Golden Angel". Yes, he was bullshitting about his place in Hell's hierarchy but that makes it even more special: Lucifer has many names, the fallen angel, the snake of the garden, the devil and such are surely ones he despises for they remind him of what he believes to be his biggest mistake and consequently of his greatest pain but they are what most off hell would know him as.

He has been called these things for 10 000 years.

The Morningstar or Samael (if Lucifer in the Hellaverse is the prince of heaven Samael and I would think so) might seem better choices at first as these are the names he had been called in heaven but that would simply make them more painful.

But Satan doesn't call him any of these.

He calls him the golden angel.

Because even after all these years, that's what Satan sees in him. The angel. The light. It's not a name, to him it is a fact.

There is so much to unpack there alone and that was just one verse in this masterpiece of a song!

Speaking of the song, can we please all appreciate that Vivzipop gave us the opportunity to have a fucking villain song sung by a protagonist?! Aka, everyone's absolute dream!

And oh boy, did Bryce Pinkham deliver.

He did such an amazing job that at first I didn't even realize how bad the lyrics was.

"Does he deserve the flame?" - What flame, he was just about to be beheaded dude, you just used that because you needed a rhyme with blame.

"Scheming more mastermindery" - Bro, what ?

"Could master the disaster" - You can barely master the disaster xD

All in all, it seems very rough.

But the moment Stolas opens this, what pocket dimension ?, and he and Blitz sing about their true thoughts and feelings, all of that changes and we come back to the heartfelt beautiful lyrics we are used to.

Meaning, that this entire performance wasn't one of hell's spontaneous musical numbers that just happen, like Ozzie's and Fizz's parts in House of Asmodeus or "When I see him", where the music and words just come to the characters. It turned into one, but didn't start out like that.

No. This was Stolas, showing up, stopping an execution with probably only half an idea of what exactly Blitz has been accused of and deciding that the best way to save this idiot's life is to bullshit his way through a song he's coming up with on the spot.

Probably in order to ensure that that arrogant peacock wouldn't interrupt him because a) dude probably can't sing and b) of the sheer absurdity of the situation.

(Bonus points if Stolas also thought about how that was probably not even the most dramatic soap opera acting they'd seen that day considering who was obviously leading the show on the Goetias side. But I don't want to give the bird to much credit, we know him to well for that. I love him, but he's a himbo.)

Anyway, I just really needed to say all of this because my brain is in overdrive.

I'm also itching to start drawing a short tragic comic about what would've happened if Stolas had come to late but I try to stop myself because, one, at this point I don't know how much more my soul can take and two, I am in the middle of another Hellaverse Project I should really finish first 😅