#does it make sense? probably probably not
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°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°
When you wake up you're alone, it's just you and the fire. The disappointment you feel terrifies you. You should be relieved to be alone, you should feel safer now that the Orc isn't near you.
Orcs are brutal warlords, everyone knows this, they can't be trusted. You glower at the fire and manage to shuffle a little closer to the hearth. The idea of just leaving before the Orc can come back floats in your mind but it quickly dissipates when you try and sit up. Your limbs betray you, your arms shake and falter under your weight as if you're a pathetic waif and not a self-sufficient woman of the woods.
You slump back to the floor and bundle the thick wool blanket tighter around your still naked frame. Surely your clothes are dry by now. You take on the burdensome task of looking around the living room for your clothes but freeze when you see the big green figure standing in the connected kitchen. His back is facing you as he moves around, opening cabinets and draws with an unnerving quietness. How could you not have heard him? The realization paralyses you, have your senses dulled that much from the hypothermia?
As if he could sense your fear he turns around and locks eyes with you. His dark eyes make your heartbeat jolt and you turn over to avoid looking at them or him. You look around again for your clothes and finally spot them on a wooden drying rack next to the hearth. You try and scooch your body towards it but you can only really wriggle on the floor. You hear him stepping closer and the fear just rises with every step, you try and reach out for your clothes but he gets to them before you.
If you had energy you would yell something vulgar but your anger quickly settles into confusion when the massive man sits behind you and gently brings you into a seated position supporting your back against his chest. You go even more limp as he slowly brings your hands through the long sleeves of your shirt and pulls the garment over your head with some difficulty on your part because of the strenuous action on your sore muscles.
He buttons up the shirt and you want to slap his hands away but you can't, your fingers are far too numb to be doing any fine motor functions like that anyway. He then does the same with your pants, gently pulling them into each leg. The softness that he treats you with is upsetting, like he looks down on you. You can feel his breaths on your ear and you can feel how he tenses when you wince at a particularly painful movement. It's all so humiliating.
When he's done he lets your head slump onto the pillow again. He put a pillow on the floor for you? How have you only noticed that now? He walks off into his kitchen again and leaves you to stare shamefully into the fire. If you tried to leave, even if you could make it out the door, you'd probably just freeze to death or be saved again by this stranger and be even more humiliated than you are now.
The orc comes back with a steaming mug and plate. He helps you sit up and positions you up against his chest again. You absolutely hate how easily you relax into his warmth. He holds the mug up for you to take and you hesitantly reach out and curl your fingers around the warm ceramic, holding it to your chest and assessing the contents.
It smells earthy and sweet. You take a tiny sip and your taste buds sing. It tastes like honey and a woody spice you can't place. You down the whole cup in no time, almost spilling as your arms struggle with the exertion of holding it up. You gulp down the last of the thick hot liquid and sigh in relief. You hear a very irritating amused huff from the orc behind you as he takes the mug and lifts the plate up in front of you. It's filled with hot steaming buns, it smells divine and you pick one up only to drop it back on the plate when it burns your fingers.
The hot food nips at the sensitive skin on your fingertips painfully. The digits are still cold and numb, not cooperating with what you want them to do. You try again but quickly drop the hot bun onto the plate once more. The orc sets the plate into your lap and carefully maneuvers you so that you sit across his crossed legs, like sitting bridal style. He picks up a hot bun and holds it to your mouth, after a moment of hesitation you finally give up even more of your dignity and bite into the delicious smelling treat. You barely stop yourself from moaning at the taste.
You make the mistake of looking up at his face, you haven't actually gotten a good look at his face until now and you almost choke on your bun when you do. He looks nothing like the depictions of orcs you've seen and read, they're supposed to be ugly and scary beasts who pillage and kill for fun. Looking at this him you can't help the uncertainty that trickles into everything you know about orcs. Concern is written all over his orcish features just like his cautious movements.
His tusks have little carvings on them, shallow indents in the ivory so beautiful and intricate it's difficult to imagine orc hands carving them. You realize he's also staring at you and you wonder if he's thinking similar things about your human features. You have no idea how orcs perceive humans but if it's anything like how humans perceive orcs it can't be very good.
A sudden guilt comes over you and you have to look away from the orc. You stare at your lap, where you sit comfortably in his hold and accept another hot bun he holds out for you. You can feel his hand hesitate on your back, he wants to comfort you but he's...scared?
If you're honest you're scared too, you can't even remember how long it's been since you just talked to another person let alone touched someone. With a full belly and a warm face, you drift off once again against this stranger's chest wondering if it's been just as long for him.
°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°ââ.àłàż*:°â
Part 1
Part 3
#kind and gentle orc makes reader question her anti orc racism more at 6#monster x human#monster lover#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#orc x reader#orc x human#orc boyfriend#monster romance#monster writing#fem reader#fem!reader
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hi hi~ i have a silly request if you're interested (â .â  â ââ  â áŽâ  â ââ .â ) can i request the lads men's (pre-relationship) reaction to the reader introducing them to their boyfriend? but plot twist... its a fictional virtual boyfriend! just like the game love and deepspace LOL who would get jealous? who would have beef with a fictional man?? /JK
PS: im not sure how to say this properly but u like, write them so attractively đ” if that makes sense, like the little quirks u give them and the dialogue, whoo weeeee 100/10!
This made me laugh because I still remember introducing my bf to my Obey Me boyfriends and kept trying to figure out which one was the most like him so he could buy me merch of them and push his personal agenda. Sadly none of them are like him, but now that I play LDS, Rafayel sure is! Thank you for the request! I had fun with this one! (And oh my gosh, that's such a compliment!! Thank you so so much, it means a lot!!)
Pre-relationship LaDS men react to your fictional game partner
Rafayel -
Who would have beef with a fictional man?
Rafayel would have beef with a fictional man.
He did not wait centuries for you, searching high and low for his lost love in every dark alley and bad idea that came across him- to lose to a bunch of pixels on a tech screen.
Truthfully, he knows it's all in good fun, and he's not completely jealous. He's actually pretty glad you found a nice outlet that helps you with relieving stress from you day to day. He knows you need it.
He's just... going to be now competing secretly with a fictional figure.
He thinks its secret.
You know what he's doing.
Why else would he be asking you what the latest event is in your game with your fictional partner, and then miraculously a week later you're receiving the very same things or experiences in reality on your day off?
He's not slick at all, and honestly, you find it pretty endearing.
But also, something you won't ever consider- is maybe he's doing those things for you, not only to make you happy, but to show you just how much attention he pays to the things you tell him about.
That's okay.
You don't need to know that part.
Zayne -
Zayne is not at all threatened by whoever this 'Jumim Hen' guy is.
Yes he is mispronouncing it on purpose. No he will not correct himself until he's gotten enough humor out of it and frustrated you enough about it.
Once that happens, he'll start pronouncing it correctly and if confronted about his change in pronunciation, he will pretend you need a wellness check and request you make an appointment with his secretary.
Smooth way to spend more time with you while subtlety calling you crazy.
He mostly does just think it's cute, though.
He will buy you food from places that might be having game events that get you special merchandise or in-game prizes, even if you don't realize there's a surprise event happening because it wasn't advertised in your game.
No, he's not weird and expects you to stop playing once the two of you start dating. He realizes it's something you enjoy a lot, and he actually finds a lot of pleasure in listening to you ramble about situations that are happening in your game.
He finds most things you do endearing.
Sylus -
You're giggling over it, that's all the matters to him.
He is rubbing the bridge of his nose though, because you had been building up to this moment for over a week and he was convinced you were going to show him an actual psychopath or something and he was going to have to figure out a way to make the man disappear without you realizing it was Sylus's doing.
He probably won't make any vague comments about how your fictional boyfriend is strangely similar to himself and that maybe you have a type.
Probably.
(He will make one per day.)
(At least.)
Once you're dating him, he has some access to your device and the game, simply so that he can reload your currency whenever you go to sleep. He doesn't want you to run out, and he knows you love playing. What else is his money good for if not for making you smile?
Doesn't understand it, but he does make mental notes of your current progress in the storyline and which characters you like. But sometimes he'll pretend to forget an important detail.
He loves hearing you babble about anything, after all.
Xavier -
He was a bit confused at first, but figured out what was going on rather quickly.
He thinks it's adorable, like when he first found out how much you love claw machines and the plushies inside of them. He doesn't see it as much different- the love interests are your plushies in the game, and your fictional partner is your favorite "plushie".
Easy.
Xavier has lowkey cosplayed your game boyfriend at least once, acting innocent about it and as if it was completely unintentional.
If you're dating by then, he lets you 'borrow' the clothes, so now you have an article from your game, but it also smells like he does. He's only allowed them back once they lose their scent.
He only accepts gratitude and payment for the favor of wearing them again in the form of snuggling with him on the couch, his arms wrapped up around you as he nuzzles into your neck.
He needs your "help" for a little bit.
It's the least you can do.
#love and deepspace#.writey#x reader#lads#lds#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader
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When you try to bump into your spouse cuz you cant find any other good excuse to see them during the day but your spouses spouse is doing the same thing so you both feel threatened by one another thus arguing
#Sigh i do need to make a proper leshylamb thing kmakdlajdskdks#Theres enough lamb to go around stop arguing just split them at morning and night time sheesh !!!!!!!! Geez louise !!!#Leshy would have fun mocking goats accent he'd probably get killed by thxm one day by accident if he wasnt paying attention /silly#sydneys doodles#cotl#cult of the lamb#leshylamb#goatlamb#lamb#the lamb#goat#the goat#leshy#Whats funnier is that they walked separate ways . Made eye contact . Came up to eachother and started fighting .#Yknow maybe leshy and goat should kiss instead#Im starting to realize this post doesnt make any sense but i think the last panel is cute so just pretend it does đ ameen
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The fact that some people equate voting a certain way with having an affair is mind blowing and not in a good way. Like, how does that even begin to make sense. Anonymously coloring a box on a piece of paper beside the name of a person you probably have never actually met and probably never will is not at all the same as secretly meeting a person who isn't your significant other and having sex with them behind your significant other's back.
From the October 31, 2024 article:
âIn the one place in America where women still have a right to choose, you can vote any way you want. And no one will ever know,â Roberts says in the ad as a woman on screen meets up with her husband after casting her ballot for Harris.
The voter winks at a fellow female voter as her husband asks if she made the âright choice.â
Republicans have responded to the video with outrage, with some claiming that a wife lying about her vote is as bad as an affair.
âIf I found out Emma was going to the voting booth and pulling the lever for Harris, thatâs the same thing as having an affair,â Fox News host Jesse Watters said on air Wednesday in a clip highlighted by Mediaite.
Other GOP members including Charlie Kirk said the thought was ânauseating.â
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Under Your Cold Fingertips
[ m!monster x fem!reader ]
a/n: bodyguard x protégée, fluff and smut, forbidden romance content: nsfw, oral (male and female receiving), p in v, pulling out
"I must rest here a moment, mistress."
The hollow sound of his voice under the helmet is very quiet. He's been walking next to your horse for a while, limping, but insisting he is fine. The snow gathered on his armor and his gray horns were decorated with little crystals.
"Of course!" You hastily unmount, sensing he is unwell.
His armor loudly clanks as he almost falls on the steps beneath the abandoned gate. You hear him breathe heavily and hot. As you look back the way you came, you see droplets of blood branding his every footstep.
"You are badly hurt!" you shout. "You fool, why didn't you tell me?"
He remains silent, his hot breath creating a fog around his head. Maybe you're imagining, but he looks like he's... shaking? Gods...
"Quickly, let's undress you," you order him and kneel in front of him.
"M-mistress..." his metal gauntlets clink as he jerks his arms upwards in shock. "What are you doing? You'll get dirty."
"Shut up," you retort. "I can wash my clothes and shoes. But I can't revive my most loyal bodyguard, can I?"
He doesn't say anything and let's you untie his boots. Meanwhile, he carefully releases buckles below his chin. He removes his helmet slowly but the metal still scrapes against his horns. He is a bit pale and has dark rings surround his eyes. If his sclera wasn't black, you're sure you would see how very bloodshot they are.
You suck air between your teeth. "Your bandages are soaked!" Trying not to harm him further, you carefully start unwrapping the bloodied material.
"Mistress, please! This is highly inappropriate."
You just shoot him a furious glance to shut him up. You barely know anything about wounds or treating them, but the gash is long and bleeding heavily. "This looks bad...", you utter.
"It's fine, I heal fastâ" Without waiting him to finish, you quickly get all the necessary things and with his help clean his wound. He hisses as the disinfectant slides down his skin.
"I'm so sorry," you whisper while dabbing around his wound. "You don't deserve this."
A large calloused palm covers your fingers. He is surprisingly gentle. He... never touched you like this before. "Mistress, your hands are cold." Wrapped by his clawed fingers, he brings your hands closer to his mouth and blows onto them. Warm air as white as fog twirls around your heads.
"Iâ" You wanted to say something, something funny or friendly probably, maybe even witty, but your mind went blank. Or rather, every sensible thought got pushed back by that one idea.
You push yourself between his legs and kiss him. Too shocked to react, he keeps his mouth open like a fish until he grabs you by your shoulders and shakes you. "What are you doing? You can't... We..." He trails off looking at your lips. "We can't..."
"You're bleeding for me and I can't even kiss you?", you ask in an almost growling tone.
Still slightly shocked, he opens his mouth to speak, reconsiders and kisses you instead, tightly embracing you against his chest. And his hard and cold armor but you don't care. All you want are his warm lips and his tongue to shove itself down your throat. But not only that...
You slide down between his legs again, happy that doesn't have heavy plates on his lower body (even though that proved a wrong choice this morning). You quickly loosen his pants and push your hand inside. "This is wrong," he mutters over and over but does nothing to stop you taking his heavy and strange cock into your hands. You always wondered how it looks like. And tastes like.
You take it into your mouth, followed by his low and breathy fuck, and you hum around it as you use your tongue to explore every part of it. Listening to your guardian's moans makes you wet and your cunt clenches around nothing every time he jerks his hips up and thrusts into your mouth. You lick his phallus all over, sucking his tip and tracing his veins until he grabs your wrists and pulls you on him.
You stand above him, many layers of your dress stopping you to make the next step. You lift your skirts and chemise around your waist. "Forgive me," he says before he rips your undergarments and reaches your pussy. He leans forward and slides his tongue along your folds, his nose digging into your bush and soft tissue. He is growling like a hungry animal, devouring your nectar and you tremble above him, panting and gasping as his tongue finds all your secrets.
He pulls you down, onto his lap and you drop all your skirts onto you two. They hide everything that happens between you two and keep you warm at the same time.
There is a strange expression on his face. "Mistress..."
You kiss him before he says something stupid, and guide his cock inside you. Slight pang of pain causes you discomfort, but you can't help but roll your hips looking for pleasure. His arms are under your chemise and his claws dig into your hips. You moan into each others mouths, your breaths and bodies pushing the cold away. You ride his cock and with his help you feel the pulses of your peak building up.
"I'm close", you sob into his neck and he grabs your ass so that he could lift you and fuck you from below. You breath hitches from the force of his dick digging into your cunt and you quickly come undone. He kisses you, savoring your delight, and slides into your pussy slowly but deliberately, prolonging your orgasm as much as he can. He then pulls you onto his chest and positions himself so that he can push his whole cock into you easily. In and out, in and out, faster and faster.
Some outsider wouldn't see a thing happening hidden under those long and dirty skirts. But you could feel the tension of his muscles and his cock swelling inside you. He suddenly pulls out by lifting you like a child's toy and, with a long groan, he cums all over your thighs.
"I wish I saw your cock twitching and spilling," you say while you lay against his breastplate.
Still breathless, he chuckles, but also groans in discomfort. You finally remember. "Your leg!" You jump off his lap and see his leg bleeding again. "You fool! Why did you put me on your lap."
Completely ignoring your scolding, he pulls you down again and you sit like before, your naked cunt against his groin. "Because I don't care about that pain. I dreamed about this for a long time."
"You dreamed about fucking me outside in the cold?", you jab.
He chuckles. "Not exactly in the cold." He kisses your neck and jaw. "But outside, and inside, and in your bed, and in my bed, and against a wall, and on the table, and on the floor, and against a tree..."
As he names all the places he imagined, your pussy throbs against his muscles. "All that sounds lovely. But let's get your leg fixed first before you bleed to death."
He places his forehead against yours. "At least I would bleed for the most amazing woman in the world."
You hit him in the chest, blush overtaking your cheeks. "Shut up, you... fool."
#monster#monster lover#monster fucker#monster fuqqer#monster boyfriend#monster smut#monster imagine#monster love#monster romance#monster x fem!reader#monster x female#monster x reader#monster x you#teratophillia#terat0philliac#terato#exophelia#smut#slightlyknotinsane#ski.doc
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Disclaimer that this is a post mostly motivated by frustration at a cultural trend, not at any individual people/posters. Vagueing to avoid it seeming like a callout but I know how Tumblr is so we'll see I guess. Putting it after a read-more because I think it's going to spiral out of control.
Recent discourse around obnoxious Linux shills chiming in on posts about how difficult it can be to pick up computer literacy these days has made me feel old and tired. I get that people just want computers to Work and they don't want to have to put any extra effort into getting it to Do The Thing, that's not unreasonable, I want the same!
(I also want obnoxious Linux shills to not chip in on my posts (unless I am posting because my Linux has exploded and I need help) so I sympathise with that angle too, 'just use Linux' is not the catch-all solution you think it is my friend.)
But I keep seeing this broad sense of learned helplessness around having to learn about what the computer is actually doing without having your hand held by a massive faceless corporation, and I just feel like it isn't a healthy relationship to have with your tech.
The industry is getting worse and worse in their lack of respect to the consumer every quarter. Microsoft is comfortable pivoting their entire business to push AI on every part of their infrastructure and in every service, in part because their customers aren't going anywhere and won't push back in the numbers that might make a difference. Windows 11 has hidden even more functionality behind layers of streamlining and obfuscation and integrated even more spyware and telemetry that won't tell you shit about what it's doing and that you can't turn off without violating the EULA. They're going to keep pursuing this kind of shit in more and more obvious ways because that's all they can do in the quest for endless year on year growth.
Unfortunately, switching to Linux will force you to learn how to use it. That sucks when it's being pushed as an immediate solution to a specific problem you're having! Not going to deny that. FOSS folks need to realise that 'just pivot your entire day to day workflow to a new suite of tools designed by hobby engineers with really specific chips on their shoulders' does not work as a method of evangelism. But if you approach it more like learning to understand and control your tech, I think maybe it could be a bit more palatable? It's more like a set of techniques and strategies than learning a specific workflow. Once you pick up the basic patterns, you can apply them to the novel problems that inevitably crop up. It's still painful, particularly if you're messing around with audio or graphics drivers, but importantly, you are always the one in control. You might not know how to drive, and the engine might be on fire, but you're not locked in a burning Tesla.
Now that I write this it sounds more like a set of coping mechanisms, but to be honest I do not have a healthy relationship with xorg.conf and probably should seek therapy.
It's a bit of a stretch but I almost feel like a bit of friction with tech is necessary to develop a good relationship with it? Growing up on MS-DOS and earlier versions of Windows has given me a healthy suspicion of any time my computer does something without me telling it to, and if I can't then see what it did, something's very off. If I can't get at the setting and properties panel for something, my immediate inclination is to uninstall it and do without.
And like yeah as a final note, I too find it frustrating when Linux decides to shit itself and the latest relevant thread I can find on the matter is from 2006 and every participant has been Raptured since, but at least threads exist. At least they're not Microsoft Community hellscapes where every second response is a sales rep telling them to open a support ticket. At least there's some transparency and openness around how the operating system is made and how it works. At least you have alternatives if one doesn't do the job for you.
This is long and meandering and probably misses the point of the discourse I'm dragging but I felt obligated to make it. Ubuntu Noble Numbat is pretty good and I haven't had any issues with it out of the box (compared to EndeavourOS becoming a hellscape whenever I wanted my computer to make a sound or render a graphic) so I recommend it. Yay FOSS.
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Nonviolent Communication - Part 21
Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: DĂa de Los Muertos, year three. Word Count: 11.6k Warnings: possible second hand embarrassment at the beginning; a new character introduced; some Spanish, but translations are in-text; mention of deceased loved ones; fluff and more fluff; face painting due to the celebrations; I think that's all??? đ€ A/N: Hiii, just want to remind everyone that three new chapters were posted in early October. I know some readers missed one or two because the algo sucks, so check this post out to access all three chapters just in case you missed one! Music Inspo: "Cuando Vuelva a Tu Lado" - Eydie GormĂ©, Los Panchos "RecuĂ©rdame (Arrullo)" - Gael Garcia Bernal, Lucy HernĂĄndez "Remember Me (Lullaby)" - Gael Garcia Bernal, Gabriella Flores, Libertad GarcĂa Fonzi Masterlist
Part 21
You look around your apartment, making sure your place looks decent for the hundredth time. It smells good, you know that. Miguel told you so when he arrived earlier for breakfast with you. Unfortunately, he had to leave because you have a guest coming.
With a sigh, you return to your small kitchen to look at the coffee pot and freshly baked pastries you made for the occasion.
Despite spending the night in Nueva York at Miguelâs penthouse, you came back to your own place to bake because youâre expecting a person you never thought youâd be welcoming into your apartment ever again: Harry Osborn.
Itâs been some time since youâve seen him and ever since then, you decided to give him another chance. After debating for so long, you felt that it was right. At least, a part of you does. You have a feeling that neither Miguel nor the rest of the spider gang are happy with your decision because of Harry ditching you when you needed someone the most. You donât blame them. If you were in their shoes, youâd probably dislike Harry, but well, youâre not in their shoes and you know Harry personally. Thereâs history with him, all the way to elementary school years. How can someone ignore that? Yet again, Harry did once, you suppose. You ultimately decided to do this for Peter, for his sake.
You figured heâd be open to giving Harry another chance, to maybe find out what happened, though thatâs not a revelation youâre searching for right away. Youâre sure with time, Harry will share the reason for his abrupt exit from your life. Youâve wondered already what the reason or reasons were, but none of your own explanations make sense. There was never a reason for him to do such a thing; to walk out of your life like you were no one to him.
There were no signs and thatâs what made it hurtful, even if you were planning on cutting ties with him anyway when you thought you were doing everyone in your circle a favor by shutting them out. It came out of nowhere, just like your encounter with him that day at the flower stand, and now, youâre waiting for him to arrive to your home once more, so many years later.
You wipe the counter with a kitchen towel, feeling a bit anxious about this considering youâre practically strangers. Sighing heavily, you wish you were either going to be alone for the next hour or so, or back in Nueva York with Miguel at the penthouse.
You look at the spot where Miguel sat earlier during breakfast, the seat now empty. The two of you agreed that it was too soon for him and Harry to be introduced, at least in person and formally, so Miguel left about fifteen minutes ago.
Thatâs why youâre waiting for Harry alone, even though you wish you couldâve gone through the same multidimensional portal Miguel, who looked equally unenthusiastic about leaving you, opened. He didnât say anything, but you could see and sense the hesitation. He didnât want to leave you alone, but he had to.
Your cleaning ceases when you hear a knock at the door, realizing Harry is here. Breathing in and then out, you make your way to the door and look through the peephole to confirm. Seeing itâs Harry, you unlock and open the door with hesitation.
In front of you, Harry stares back at you, dressed in a business suit despite the fact that itâs Saturday, the second of November â DĂa de Los Muertos [Day of the Dead]. You notice heâs holding a bouquet of pretty flowers, but you donât pay any more attention to it beyond that. Meeting your gaze, Harry offers a small smile, which you return.
Then, at the same time you offer your hand for a handshake, Harry steps in for a hug. He ends up running into your hand, freezing at the formal gesture before backing away in embarrassment.
âSorry -â you start, lowering your hand.
âNo, Iâm sorry. I donât know why I did that,â Harry apologizes with an awkward smile. He steps back again and then, simply offers the flowers. âThese are for you. I was driving by the same little flower stand we ran into the other day, and I thought some flowers would be great since your building is back and running. Well⊠has been for a bit, but since I just arrived to the states, you knowâŠâ Harry trails off.
âThatâs thoughtful of you, thank you,â you answer, carefully taking the flowers. âCome in.â You gesture for him to enter, closing the door once heâs inside. You lead the way to the kitchen. âPlease take a seat. I have some coffee and freshly baked pastries.â
Behind you, Harry thanks you as he settles on the kitchen counter, taking one of the two chairs â Peterâs, or at least the chair that used to be his. âItâs so great to see you again,â Harry starts as you find a vase to place the flowers in. âI⊠Thank you for â for calling me back. I know you needed some time to think about it, and I⊠Iâm grateful to have heard back from you. To be here after all this time.â
âIâm glad to have you here,â you answer, giving Harry a smile before continuing to fix the flowers. âThank you for the flowers, by the way. Theyâre lovely.â
âOf course, Iâm glad you like them,â he answers.
âCoffee?â
âYes, please,â Harry replies, prompting you to withdraw two mugs from a cupboard, even though you already had one coffee with Miguel. You carefully pour the fresh coffee and fix some pastries on a plate before placing everything on the counter.
âIt smells great in here,â Harry comments, flashing you a grin when you place the mug in front of him. âIt always smelled amazing here though, with your great baking.â
You hum and offer a smile, staring at the man you never thought youâd see in this apartment again. Seeing him sitting in front of you, with the rest of the apartment behind him is a strange sight. You canât help but think that Harry looks out of place, even though there was a time in which he visited this place every weekend. He was once in photos that decorated your gallery wall, too. You swallow subtly. âThanks. Itâs the baking. Itâll make your home smell great for hours. And, the oven will warm up the place â so itâs perfect for the colder months, too.â
âYeah, I can see that. Itâs so cozy in here. It always was,â Harry says, looking around the kitchen for a few seconds, observing, or perhaps remembering the days he used to come over.
Youâre about to respond with another weak answer when thereâs a knock at the door. You both look equally surprise to hear it.
âAre you expecting someone else?â Harry asks, looking over his shoulder and at the door.
âNo,â you answer, putting your mug down and walking around the counter towards the door. âLet me see who it is. Might just be a neighbor,â you add, reaching the door. You peek through the peephole, feeling your spider senses act up probably out of the nervousness and awkwardness from this get together. You step back, unlocking the door while looking at Harry. âItâs your⊠Chauffeur? Butler?â
âFelix?â you hear Harry ask as you open the door to face the older man.
âHey,â you start softly. âCome in. Is something wrong?â you ask, wondering if thereâs an issue.
Brown eyes thoroughly scan your face, as if memorizing it. You remember this is the first time the man has seen you up close, so you disregard his focus on your face.
âFelix?â Harry says, standing next to you now. âWhatâs wrong?â
âForgive me, sir,â Felix says looking at Harry to address him before turning to you. âAnd maâam. Nothing is wrong. I noticed Mr. Osborn left his wallet at his apartment and decided to bring it to him since heâs driving.â
âOh, I couldâve sworn I did pick it up,â Harry says while Felix retrieves the wallet from his own suit. âI guess I was a little⊠Never mind. Thank you, Felix,â Harry continues, accepting the wallet and tucking it away. âShouldnât be driving around without a driverâs license, huh?â he asks, looking at you with a sheepish smile.
âCertainly not,â you answer, still standing there, feeling Mr. Felixâs eyes on you. âYou donât want a ticket.â
âDefinitely not,â Harry responds. âThank you, Felix. As always, youâre a lifesaver.â
âHappy to help, sir. Iâm sorry for my sudden appearance. I hope you and Ms. Y/N donât mind the interruption,â the man says, lowering his face slightly as a form of apology before straightening again. âI shall leave you two now and return to my duties.â
âWe donât mind,â you answer, giving him a nod of understanding. âItâs kind of you to have brought Harry his wallet.â
Felix turns to face you, eyes meeting yours. You silently decide heâs about fifty years old or so, based on his demeanor at least. He nods back. âJust doing my job, maâam, which I take very seriously.â
âToo seriously, sometimes, Felix,â Harry says with a bit of a chuckle, clasping his hand over the manâs shoulder. âHeâs a great man, Y/N. Heâs been working with me for years and I donât plan to let him go until he decides to retire, which he states he has no plans on doing, so, heâll be my right hand indefinitely.â
Offering a smile, you extend your arm to formally greet him, a sight that makes Harry wince internally when he remembers the awkward moment you both had earlier when he arrived. You introduce yourself and shake the manâs hand when he accepts yours.
âFelix. Felix Kerr,â he introduces himself, giving you a firm handshake while holding your gaze. âItâs a pleasure to make your acquaintance, maâam. I have heard nothing but wonderful things about you from Mr. Osborn and his father.â
âPleased to meet you, sir. And thatâs kind of you, and of Harry and Mr. Osborn,â you reply, withdrawing your hand and turning to Harry. âWeâve known each other since elementary.â
âA long time,â Harry says with a grin before he remembers that youâre not so acquainted with each other anymore. As if sensing his bossâs change, Mr. Kerr nods at him.
âIâll be at the apartment, sir. Please notify me if you need anything.â
âThank you, Felix. I doubt I will, but I appreciate it. Careful on your way back,â Harry softly says.
âWill do, sir. Maâam,â Mr. Kerr addresses you once more, nodding at you before turning on his heel and leaving.
âSorry about that,â Harry says as you gently close the door.
âItâs no problem, no need to apologize,â you answer. âYou needed your wallet. Please, take a seat. Again,â you say with a soft amused smile, trying to break down the awkwardness. âBefore the coffee and pastries gets cold.â
You both reach your previous spots again now that his personal assistant, or whatever title Mr. Kerr has, is gone.
Harry picks up his mug and takes a sip, smiling at you. âItâs great. Thank you for it.â
âYouâre welcome.â You smile slightly, twirling a spoon in your coffee. âSo⊠How was your trip? Did everything go smoothly?â you ask, hoping to make conversation, which you succeed because for the next thirty minutes, Harry tells you all about his trip from the elegant and luxurious hotel he stayed at, the food he ate, a brief summary of the business dealings, and what he did on his free time. You try to ask questions to keep the conversation going, showing interest. You figure this is a good way to begin to know the man in front of you again.
âBut enough about me. What have you been up to? How was your move-in?â Harry asks once heâs done telling you about the different historic locations he visited on his free time.
âIt went well. Smoothly,â you state. âI had to clean, a lot, but it didnât take me too long.â
âThatâs good to hear,â Harry says nodding, turning on his seat to look at the living room. âYou had⊠help, I hope?â
You look at the living room, not answering for a few a seconds. âYeah, I did. Thankfully,â you answer simply, not providing any more information beyond that, like how it was Miguel who helped you clean.
Harry hums and stands up, walking closer to the living room, still looking around. âIt looks so different,â he murmurs. âDespite the fact that itâs still the same place.â
âYeah⊠Itâs been some time since you were here,â you reply, opting to keep to yourself that only over a year ago you redecorated the place for the first time. You donât want Harry to know that you kept the apartment the same for years after Peterâs death, from the furniture to the placement of objects.
âI know,â Harry replies with a sigh, moving to touch the couch. âYouâve changed the couch.â
âI did,â you say, remembering that the old one is still at Miguelâs place in storage. Staring at the new one, you realize maybe itâs time to fully depart with the old one. You havenât even thought much about it. You suppose itâs true what some people say: out of sight, out of mind. Perhaps much like youâve been for Harry and him for you. âIt was time to replace it, unfortunately.â
Harry nods and turns around, his eyes landing on the gallery wall where photos that included him used to be displayed. Now, there are photos of your new friends. With interest, Harry gazes at them, walking closer.
You watch him carefully, knowing this will be the first time that Harry looks at the entire spider gang and Miguel.
âAre these â Are these your new friends?â Harry asks.
âYes,â you simply answer, moving so you can look at the photos, too. Your eyes spot the various photos that you left up since you made sure to remove every single photo in which you or any of your friends are wearing their super suits to avoid revealing your super hero identity and raising suspicions.
Harry nods again, his eyes stopping on a photo specifically â the one of Miguel and you with Mayday from New Yearâs Eve. âHm⊠That little kid again. What was her name again?â
âMayday.â
âMayday, thatâs rightâŠâ Harry trails off, still staring at the photo.
Based on his interest, thereâs no doubt in your mind that Harry is wondering about the man next to you in the photo, the one with the little kid on his shoulder.
âIs that her dad?â
âNo. That man isn't her dad. Her dad's name is â â you pause when you almost say Peter's name, realizing it might be weird for Harry to hear that you befriended a Peter after your own. âBenjamin. He's a good friend of mine along with his wife.â
âBenjaminâŠâ Harry hums at that. âIs this âMigâ?â Harry asks, reminding you of your first encounter with him at that flower stand after years of not seeing each other. You were grocery shopping with Mayday and after a bit of conversation, Harry invited you to a coffee shop for a drink. It was there that Harry asked about your living situation because he had learned about the fire to which Mayday eagerly replied with âMigâ â unfortunately revealing that you were staying at someoneâs place. Thankfully, Harry didnât prod for answers then. You recall his answer to Maydayâs simple response was that as long as you were safe, thatâs all that mattered.
Now, it seems that Harry wishes to know more, especially now that heâs seeing all these new faces on your gallery wall. It must be strange for him, you realize, to see that the people you both knew once â laughed, ate, shared jokes and memories with â are no longer part of this space, and instead, thereâs all these new people that are now your family, but strangers to him.
You stare at the photograph, at Miguel specifically. Thereâs no point in denying, or withholding information when youâve left all these photographs out. You didnât want to hide them. Hiding them would mean hiding the people whoâve brought you so much happiness, who have become your family. It didnât feel right to hide them, the small family who took you in when you were all alone and helped you be where youâre now, not even to protect the feelings of the stranger in your living room who you once knew so well.
âYes, his name is Miguel,â you finally say, not providing a last name. âAnd heâs my best friend,â you add, with a firmness and pride that leaves no doubt in Harryâs mind that you mean those words with every fiber of your being.
He turns to face you, tearing his gaze away from the man, Miguel, who seems to be in a lot of pictures with you. He hasnât failed to notice that, of course. He'd be blind to not notice that Miguel makes up a big portion of your gallery wall.
In fact, the number of photos this Miguel is in, is the same amount as Peter, your Peter.
âYour best friend,â Harry repeats, with that thought on his mind. This man is your best friend, and he along with Peter, make up the majority of your gallery wall. This man is part of the gallery wall just as much as Peter, your previous best friend and lover, is. That thought makes Harry grow still before his eyes flicker to your left hand for a second, as if searching for something. His gaze returns to your face when he finds nothing special, yet the idea doesnât abandon his head entirely. âIâm glad you have people to rely on,â he continues some seconds later, giving you a smile that doesnât quite reach his eyes, though you donât notice that. âThey seem like good people.â
âThey are. Theyâve been an amazing support system over the last few years,â you answer, turning to the gallery to scan your friendsâ faces. A smile, one so warm and gentle, so tender, forms on your face.
âYou truly seem happy,â Harry comments, taking notice of the smile. âIâm happy for you.â After a pause, Harry turns to the photos again. âSo⊠This is who you were staying with⊠This Miguel?â
âYes,â you simply reply. âWith Miguel.â
Nodding once more, Harry turns to face the photos again. His eyes scan every photo with the man. Thereâs the one with you and him and Mayday on New Yearâs Eve. Thereâs the two of you putting together some kind of furniture piece, which Harry quickly realizes is the new bookshelf in your living room.
The realization leads Harry to register the truth â this man is important to you and ingrained in your life, so much he's helped you build furniture for your apartmentâs new look, which seems like a too personal task. A task that only close friends, or a boyfriend, would do. At least, in his mind it seems that way.
Harry continues to look at the photos before his phone begins to ring, startling the two of you. He apologizes for the interruption before taking the call.
Remaining in the same spot, you listen silently. It seems to be about work.
âIâll be there soon,â you hear him say quietly. âSee you in a bit. Bye.â
Hearing him end the call, you turn to face him. âEverything okay?â
âYes⊠Yes, everything is okay. I just â I must go. Something came up at work,â Harry says, his tone apologetic. âIâm needed, so I must go now. Being the boss's son sometimes means work on Saturday. Iâm sorry for how abruptly Iâm departing.â
âThatâs alright. I understand. Work is work,â you answer, genuinely. âDo you want some of the pastries to go?â
âI â Do you mind?â he asks, slipping his phone into his jacketâs pocket.
âNot at all,â you say, quickly entering your small kitchen to pack some of the pastries for him. In seconds, you gather a few pieces and wrap them up for him to take. âHere you go.â You hand him the package. âI hope you enjoy them. Maybe you can give one to your dad. Tell him I said hi, by the way.â
Harry takes the package and nods. âThank you so much. I will. I told him I was coming here, so he knows. He was happy about it,â he says, giving you a smile before you both move to the door. Harryâs strides are long and quick, so much his handkerchief falls to the ground without his knowledge.
You stop and pick up the dark green piece of fabric. âHarry, you dropped your handkerchief.â
âOh, I didnât even realize,â Harry says, turning around to take it from your extended hand. He easily slips it back in place. âThank you. For that, and for the coffee and pastries. And for having me here, in your home.â He looks down at the package with pastries, trying to formulate the words before speaking. Once he gathers his thoughts, he looks up at you again. âThank you for the chance youâve given me â You have no idea how much it means to me, Y/N. Thank you,â he gently states, stepping closer and looking at you.
âIt was nice having you here,â you answer genuinely despite everything. âI hope you enjoyed the coffee and pastries, and of course⊠Youâre welcomed here.â
Harry smiles slowly at you before he steps closer. âMay I⊠May I hug you?â
You nod slowly, agreeing to it, and thatâs all Harry needs. He carefully wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder.
Not knowing what else to do, you hesitantly place your hands on his shoulders from beneath his arms, staring at the ceiling and feeling weird about hugging Harry after all this time.
You close your eyes slowly and think about all the times youâve hugged your friends, the spider gang, before you think of someone else. Unbeknownst to Harry, you think about hugging that someone else: the man in your photos Harry kept staring at, Miguel.
You frown slightly. You got a hug from Harry Osborn, someone who hasnât been in your life for years, before you got a hug from Miguel, your best friend.
At last, to your relief, Harry pulls back and so do you. You offer him a smile. âGo. Work calls.â
Reaching the door again and opening it, Harry gives you another smile. âYeah, I must get going. Thank you again for everything. Be careful alright?â he says, already halfway out, his gaze sweeping over the place once more, thinking about the new look of your apartment and the fact that Miguel helped you â that that man has been here in your home and helped you redecorate it.
âWill do,â you reply as he begins to close the door. âYou, too.â
âI will,â Harry says, waving goodbye and beginning to close the door, but stopping at the last second. You stare at each other for a few seconds. âIâll see you soon, Y/N?â
You nod your head, confirming. âYes, soon.â
âIâm relieved, thank you. Take care.â
âYou, too,â you answer, waving goodbye.
With that, Harry finally closes the door. After a few seconds, you lock it and sigh, leaning on it. That was a bit awkward.
You finally push yourself off the door and clean up the kitchen before you hang the other photographs back on the wall. Over half an hour later, you change into your suit and slip out of your apartment for a quick patrol of your city, trying to clear your mind after meeting with Harry.
You swing around the city for almost an hour, stopping a bank robbery and a petty criminal from stealing someoneâs purse in that time span. You eventually travel to Nueva York, where Miguel waits for you at the penthouse.
âHiiii,â you say, offering a smile to Miguel as soon as you step out into the living room. You find him carefully laying out some of the decorations for his ofrenda [Day of the Dead altar] on the coffee table, preparing.
Hearing your voice first before he sees you, Miguel smiles and turns to face you. âHey, how did it go?â
You sigh and sit down on the couch. âIt went.â
Chuckling, Miguel sits down across from you as well, deciding to take a break to give you his full attention. âWas it that bad?â
âWhen he first arrived, he was going for a hug and I offered him a handshake,â you confess, feeling a rush of embarrassment at that. You press your hands to your forehead and sigh. âSo embarrassing. And awkward.â
Miguel offers you a small smile of understanding, though his interest perks up when he hears Osborn went straight for a hug. He clears his throat. âThat sounds uncomfortable. How did you handle it?â he asks, curious to know if you eventually hugged Osborn.
âWe apologized to each other, and then, he gave me some flowers he brought,â you state, leaning back on the couch.
Flowers? Miguel watches you lean back, noticing the little get together got to you a bit. He hums, thinking about the interaction.
âWe talked for a bit about his business trip over coffee and pastries. He eventually looked around the living room and saw my gallery wall. He asked about you,â you continue to share.
âHe did?â Miguel asks, intrigued by that.
âYes. He remembered that Mayday mentioned a âMigâ that day we ran into him at the flower stand. He looked at one of the photos of you and I with Mayday, one from New Yearâs Eve. He asked if you were âMigâ and I confirmed it. I told him your name â just your first one â and that youâre my best friend.â
Hearing you say that, and the way you say it so proudly, brings a gentle blush to Miguelâs cheeks. He smiles fondly at you, elated with the fact that you told Osborn about him. Miguel silently wonders what Osborn thought about him and the rest of your friends, however.
âAfter that, he said he was glad that I have a support system,â you continue, telling him about the remainder of the get together, including the hug at the end.
The revelation that Osborn got a hug from you after all, leaves a slight pout on Miguelâs lips and a strange feeling he doesnât have enough time to identify. All Miguel knows is that Osborn seems to have received what he wanted from the start.
âIt was a bit awkward, but I suppose it will be like that for a bit, considering weâre basically strangers at this point. Itâll take some time before that feeling goes away. Anyway, Iâm glad we had that little get together, no matter how uneasy it felt, and even gladder that Iâm here again. Iâm so excited to cook and bake, and help you set up your ofrenda,â you eagerly say, standing up.
âIâm excited, too. I started on a few things already to ease the workload. Iâve set up the other pots and pans weâll be using, the dry ingredients, and the supplies for the ofrenda. I figured it would help since gathering the things takes a bit of time, too. I also finished the filling for the tamales [Latin dish].â
âGathering everything is a process of its own,â you agree. âCollecting everything, or as much as you can, beforehand, helps so much. You avoid the running back and forth when youâre actually doing the task, and prevents you from entirely skipping a step because youâre all over the place. Itâll make the process run much smoother being organized, especially since weâre doing a lot of cooking! Do you want to start now?â you ask with so much excitement itâs clear to Miguel youâve been looking forward to this.
âIf you want to, yes,â Miguel answers, standing up as well. âBut first, I think you might want to change into more comfortable clothing since weâre doing a lot.â
You look down at yourself, remembering youâre wearing your suit. âYouâre right. Iâll be right back!â you tell Miguel, already halfway to the stairs.
After changing into far more comfortable clothes â clothes youâve left in your bedroom, at Miguelâs penthouse â and turning on his record player, Miguel and you begin to work on the food for the ofrenda.
Hominy for the pozole [Latin dish] is placed in a pot to boil along with the necessary vegetables needed for the sauce and flavor.
With that done, Miguel makes the masa [dough] for tamales, so you can begin making them.
As always, you work together with ease. You move around the kitchen in sync, making steady progress while Latin romantic ballads play in the background.
You also open the packages of candy and set them on a tray to later offer to each of Miguel's family members.
Little by little, progress is being made. You reach a point in the cooking that allows you to take a break and have lunch before you both set up the ofrenda, using tables and shelves to give it two levels.
White tablecloths are used as the base before gorgeous and vibrant banners made out of papel picado [pecked paper] with intricate designs cut into it are hanged at the edge of each level. Colorful and handmade sugar skulls are placed throughout both levels along with white candles to be lit later on.
To finish, both Miguel and you add marigold flowers to the ofrenda. They're fresh and so lively, their scent filling Miguel's living room, where he decided to set his ofrenda this year.
While placing a flower down, you find it hard to believe that youâre here now. Three years ago, Miguel showed up to your apartment out of nowhere. Smiling, you recall that evening.
You were doing chores, specifically putting items away where they belonged and laundry. All of a sudden, you sensed a portal and when you stepped out into the living room, there he was, Miguel. He looked around your apartment, probably noticing the autumn decorations before you asked him if everything was okay. You were surprised by his random appearance and even more so because he looked calm, so your guess was that nothing was amiss. Still, you had to ask just in case you needed to change into your suit.
âAre you busy right now?â Miguel asked after he assured you everything was fine.
âI was just doing some chores, so, noâŠâ you replied, unsure of why Miguel was there so late. He was calm and said nothing was wrong, so that meant there was no threat to the multiverse. At least, that was your impression.
After nodding and sighing to himself, he told you his reasoning for being there. âI would like â to show you something,â he said, meeting your gaze.
In the span of minutes, if even that, you were in the lab and looking at Miguelâs ofrenda for his family.
That was what he wanted to show you, his offering and way of honoring and celebrating those who were once in his life, but now gone. By doing so, Miguel also wanted to assure you that your own way of honoring and celebrating Peter was okay â that you werenât alone. It was a way of reciprocating the vulnerability you had allowed Miguel to see on Peterâs birthday. And since you had made him part of your celebration, Miguel wanted to do the same for you, something that brought you so much tenderness at the time and continues to do so to this day.
Now, three years later, youâre at his penthouse helping Miguel set up his ofrenda again, just like last year. The difference now is that youâre here instead of at the lab because Miguel decided to set it up at home since he spends more time here than he did in the past. You hum softly and place the last flower before turning to look at Miguel just as he adjusts Gabriel's photo.
You smile at the sight. Gabriel, Gabriel OâHara. How you wish you couldâve met him and Gabby, the same way Miguel wishes you couldâve.
Heck, Miguel even wishes you couldâve met Conchata. Perhaps she wouldâve liked you. Perhaps she wouldâve done better as a mother and grandmother to Gabby if all three of them were still alive. Perhaps.
You look at each photo before meeting Miguelâs gaze, both your mouths curving upwards into a smile.
âI was thinking,â Miguel says, still smiling, but with a hint of shyness and hesitation. Perhaps itâs too much what heâs about to say, what heâs about to offer. He scratches his neck nervously, his cheeks red. âI hope you donât take this the wrong way, or offensive. Or⊠find it weird, or to be too much,â he continues, rambling without realizing it. âI was wondering if youâd like to â like to add your loved onesâ photos, too?â Miguel manages to ask at last, staring at you sheepishly. He has been thinking about it for days, about asking you, but he kept going back and forth on the idea, and now itâs DĂa de Los Muertos and youâre both here. Maybe itâs a stupid idea, or too much since itâs about your deceased loved ones. Miguel almost begins to apologize for the bad idea, but then he notices the look of surprise and then tenderness on your face.
You slowly smile at him, a sweet smile. âYouâre serious?â
âYes⊠Yes, I am,â Miguel gently replies.
âBut this is for family,â you state softly, wondering if Miguel has truly thought this through.
Miguel nods and thatâs how you realize that he knows, that youâre making his point. Itâs for family. Heâs offering your loved ones a place on his ofrenda because youâre⊠Family.
Youâre part of Miguelâs family.
âOhâŠâ you simply answer, a small knot forming in your throat before you push it down by swallowing. You smile. âAre you sure? I meanâŠâ you look at the ofrenda, thinking. âItâs your ofrenda and I donât have any food for them anyway, and I donât want to crowd ââ
âThereâs plenty of space,â Miguel says gently. âAs to the food, I can help you cook just like youâve helped me. Thereâs plenty of time for it.â Noticing your smile, Miguel smiles, too. âJust say the word,â Miguel continues. âAnd we'll start immediately.â
Thatâs how, a bit later, the ofrenda is no longer only Miguelâs. Itâs his and yours.
Instead of only four portraits, thereâs seven. Thereâs one of both your parents, one of Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Peter, Conchata, Gabby, Gabriel, and Miguelâs wife. Like Miguel, youâll be offering favorite foods and snacks later on when he does, too. Additionally, you went ahead and added belongings to your loved ones that were significant to them in life. For Peter, youâve obviously offered his record player and favorite albums.
When you place the last one, a Billie Holiday album, you step back to look at everything. Thereâs even more sugar skulls, candles, and banners than before. And, the scent of marigolds? It has grown tenfold because more were acquired by Miguel, who went out on a quick trip to buy more.
You smile, feeling thankful for the kind and sweet gesture and privilege to share and partake in such a beautiful tradition with Miguel.
âThere,â Miguel gently says with his own smile, staring at the ofrenda with everyone now. He hums and readjusts a flower in front of your parentsâ photo before stepping back, standing next to you. âWe can place the food in a bit,â Miguel offers before something catches his attention through the windows.
A few seconds later, you both walk to the windows to look closer. Vibrant holographic sugar skulls decorate the sky above Nueva Yorkâs downtown, announcing that the celebrations have started.
At the sight, Miguel smiles softly. Itâs been several years since heâs gone to any of those events. Too many years. He slowly turns to face you, noting the smile and intrigue in your eyes. He doesnât even think about it twice before he makes another offer. âDo you want to go?â he asks. âThereâs always live performances, amazing food, small businesses, and great music.â
âReally?â you ask softly, looking at him. âDo you want to go?â
With you? Anywhere. Miguel grins and nods, not sharing that thought. âIâm up for it, if you are.â
You chuckle with a spark in your eyes. âIâd love to!â
-âĄ-
When you reach Nueva Yorkâs beautiful downtown, the sight of sugar skulls and marigolds greet your and Miguelâs eyes. Lively music reaches your ears and the wonderful, mouthwatering scent of food sold from food trucks reaches your noses.
As you both walk side by side, you notice children eagerly pointing to the holographic sugar skulls in the sky, trying to get their adultsâ attention. Countless of people walk around with their faces painted in the traditional sugar skull makeup with intricate patterns. You also notice that many girls and women walk around with beautiful and bright hair accessories, many of which include big flowers.
Pulling your jacket closer to you due to the chilly weather, you smile in delight because of the spirit. Thereâs always an energy to Nueva York, but tonight, you can sense a different kind â one that seems to be almost pulsing. You silently wonder if that energy comes from those who have departed this physical world, but are visiting their loved ones still on Earth once more.
Your thoughts are interrupted when a lady from a small booth beckons Miguel and you with a bright smile. You glance at Miguel before looking back at the lady, quickly realizing the service sheâs providing: painting peopleâs faces for the celebrations.
âWould you guys like to have your faces painted? I have a special price for couples!â the woman offers, still smiling.
You look away with a small smile. There it is again.
Only three weeks ago on Miguelâs birthday, back in your universe, Mr. Stanley assumed Miguel is your boyfriend. Now, thereâs this lady also making the assumption. Thankfully, Miguel didnât seem to mind. He said it was an innocent assumption, which calmed your worries about him being offended that day.
Next to you, Miguel scratches his neck after hearing the womanâs words. Once again, someone has assumed youâre dating. Despite how many times heâs been told that personally, Miguel still finds it surprising. Do the two of you give that impression? He wonders, considering that this lady has to be the fifth or sixth person to make that innocent assumption. He then wonders how many more people make that silent presumption just from seeing the two of you walking around. Before he has a chance to think further, like what does it mean that youâre being mistaken as a couple, you smile and walk to the booth to look at the different design options. And, of course, Miguel follows you.
âYou can do matching, or different designs if you wish,â the lady offers. âI can do different eye colors, too. And, just letting you know, my friend in the next booth is selling hair pieces if youâd like to complete the look, señorita [miss].â
âThat sounds lovely! Thank you for letting me know,â you answer politely before looking at the ladyâs work again.
âDo you want to get it done?â Miguel asks after he thanks her, too.
âIâŠâ you trail off and look at him, wondering if itâs okay.
âIf you want to, you should. Itâs fun,â Miguel gently says with a small smile. âWe have time, too.â
âAlright!â you happily answer before the lady leads you to a chair and begins to ask you what design youâd like.
Meanwhile, Miguel watches from the side, intrigued by the process. He leans on a street lamp, slipping both his hands into his pockets as he quietly listens to you and the lady make small talk while she paints your face. Unbeknownst to him, Miguel looks like a devoted boyfriend and/or husband, waiting on his partner.
To Miguelâs surprise, it doesnât take long for the lady to finish the makeup, but then again, he realizes that the lady must have a lot of experience and your face is probably one of hundreds sheâs painted today alone.
You stand up and look at yourself through a handheld mirror that the lady offers you, admiring and thanking her for the wonderful service before you return the mirror. You then reach into your pocket for money â cash youâve converted to this dimensionâs â to pay the lady, but before you even get a chance to pull it out, Miguel has already handed the woman a bill.
âMiguel ââ you start, but Miguel politely shakes his head at you just as the lady, who silently finds the interaction cute, takes the money.
âItâs on me. Keep the change, doña [short for señora/madam],â Miguel says.
âYouâre paying for two people, mijo [term of endearment; my son],â the lady says. âLet me give you your change.â
âNo, thatâs alright, really,â Miguel insists.
âAt least, let me paint your face, mijo. Youâre not only paying for your girlfriendâs, but for one more person. You might as well.â
âI donâtâŠâ Miguel starts, but trails off. Heâs unsure of how to explain to the kind lady that heâs not open to someone touching his face plus feeling sheepish because sheâs called you his âgirlfriendâ.
âYour girlfriend can do it, if you want,â the lady offers, picking up on Miguelâs reluctance.
Standing there, your cheeks feel hot. Not once, but twice has this lady said youâre Miguelâs girlfriend. Pushing past that, you glance at Miguel. âI can if you want, Migs,â you offer.
Miguel looks around for a few seconds before nodding. âIf thatâs okay⊠Alright.â
Once Miguel agrees, the lady quickly sets things for you on the other side of the table, so she can continue to work if other customers arrive. In a minute or two, youâre sitting in front of Miguel with a makeup brush in your hand. You begin by painting his entire face with white paint, just like yours. While you do so, Miguel stares at the tentâs ceiling, not failing to notice how close the two of you are sitting. Youâre so close to each other that your knees are slightly pressed against each otherâs.
After a few seconds, Miguel finally looks at you. His gaze travels over your face, taking the opportunity to look at the painted details now that youâre closer. His eyes stop at your own, noting that you chose a light purple color for eye shadow.
âYou chose purple,â Miguel states as you paint one of his cheeks, almost done with the white paint.
âMhm,â you simply answer, eyebrows furrowed. You look away to gather more paint before resuming. âI chose it because of Gabby, since she loved the color lilac.â
Miguelâs lips part in surprise. He hadnât made that connection, but now that he knows, his chest flutters with ternura [tenderness]. You chose it for Gabby, his daughter. He smiles, even as you work the brush against his cheek again. âThatâs so sweet of you,â Miguel says very softly so the lady doesnât hear.
You smile back, your cheeks warm. âI just thought it would be⊠Nice. In her honor.â
âItâs more than nice. Itâs sweet, Dulzura,â Miguel answers. âItâs a sweet gesture and I like to think that wherever Gabby is⊠Perhaps here⊠Sheâs appreciating it.â
âIâm sure sheâs here,â you answer, reassuring Miguel. âWith you.â
Smiling, Miguel nods. âWith us.â
âWith usâŠâ you repeat softly, your chest filling with happiness at the fact that Miguel said âwith usâ.
Once done with the white paint, you switch to black paint and begin to draw the lines on Miguelâs face. You do the cheekbones and teeth first, finding it the easiest to do. Then, you do his nose by drawing an upside down heart at the tip, finding it cute. You draw circles around his eyes next, tracing Miguelâs orbital cavities, before filling them in and adding a decorative outline.
When you reach his forehead, you think about it. You had flowers drawn on yours, but you donât want to do that for Miguel. You wish to do something different, something more fitting for him, but what? You hum softly before you begin to draw.
You carefully draw a sun in the middle of Miguelâs forehead, with little rays coming from it to indicate that itâs shining. When youâre done with that, you add a few more details above Miguelâs eyebrows. With a smile, you pull back when youâre fully done and grab the handheld mirror so Miguel can see the final result.
âYou drew a sun,â Miguel murmurs with a smile when he sees it.
âYep,â you say proudly. âSolecito [little sun].â
Miguelâs eyes move from the mirror to you, finding a grin on your face.
âWhat?â you say. âSome time ago, you jokingly said you were everyoneâs solecito. âA ball of sunshineâ, if I recall correctly.â
âIt was sarcasm,â Miguel says, chuckling. âIâm not.â
You sigh and put away the makeup brushes. âFor them, maybe.â
âWh-what?â Miguel stutters, caught by surprise.
With a smile, you close the paints. âIâm saying youâre a ball of sunshine. To me.â You look up, closing the last paint. âSolecito.â
âSolecito,â Miguel repeats, his cheeks growing hot. âLittle sun.â
âMi solecito [my little sun],â you say this time, nodding with a warm smile, leaving Miguel speechless when you add the âmiâ. Your little sun. Youâre saying heâs your little sun. You stand up and grab the materials before walking to the lady to return them. âHereâs everything, maâam. Thank you so much!â
Meanwhile, Miguelâs brain is having a moment. Heâs never been given such a nickname by anyone. Ever. And now heâs your little sun â your ball of sunshine. Miguelâs cheeks grow hotter the longer he sits there, your sweet nickname echoing in his mind, leaving him flustered.
Your solecito.
âAre you ready for the live performances?â you ask, standing in front of him, so eager to go while Miguelâs brain is short circuiting.
âSi [yes],â Miguel replies, clearing his throat. âYes. Iâm ready.â
Miguel forces himself to stand up, trying to push past his pleasant surprise from your new nickname for him. You both thank the lady and wish her well with her business before walking away, happy with the service.
Walking again, Miguel continues to push past his feelings when he spots the small business the lady who painted your faces mentioned earlier. His gaze quickly sweeps over the beautiful hair accessories, which reminds him of the ladyâs words, about how you can complete your look with something like that. He stops walking, something you quickly notice.
âMiguel?â you ask, wondering whatâs up.
âThereâs hair accessories,â Miguel states, staring at one of the tables with organized accessories. He flashes you a grin and gestures for you to follow him before he walks to the booth, leaving you wondering.
You slowly reach his side, finding him already talking with the owner.
âWe have several options. Are you looking for a specific color?â the woman asks.
âHmm, Dulzura,â Miguel turns to face you. âDo you want it to match your makeup?â
You smile, realizing. âI suppose it would be appropriate,â you answer.
âSomething purple, please,â Miguel politely says before the lady shows the two of you all the options she has.
The lady shows you headbands, bows, and other cute dainty hair accessories â all with the color purple in different shades. You watch with careful attention as she shows you thing after thing, all so beautiful youâre undecided on which one to buy until you turn to Miguel, who lifts a headband from another table to inspect it. Gazing at it more closely, you realize the headband has handmade flowers out of lilac and white ribbons. It also has some hints of pink due to smaller decorations glued to the ribbons for a little dazzle.
âThat one, please,â you say with a smile.
âThis one?â Miguel asks with a smile, moving it forward so you can get a better look at it.
âThat one,â you confirm, finding it beautiful.
âWeâll take this one, then,â Miguel says, looking at the price tag. Before you even have a chance to pull out your money, Miguel, once again, pulls out his wallet and pays.
âMiguel,â you say softly.
âWhat is it?â Miguel asks, already knowing by the little pout on your lips.
âYou canât keep paying for everything, you know.â
Miguel grins. âItâs my treat, so please let me,â he answers with amusement before he steps closer to you. To your immense surprise, Miguel steps even closer while holding the headband in both hands. He moves them closer to your head carefully and slowly, as if to avoid startling you. And then, to add to your growing surprise, Miguel gently slips the headband on your head.
Youâre so caught off guard by Miguelâs brave gesture that youâre not sure if you misheard yourself gasping, but youâre aware of your widened eyes and parted lips.
Happy with the way the headband looks and how it adorns your hair, Miguel steps back with a soft smile. A gentle blush covers not only his cheeks, but also the top of his ears. For a few seconds, Miguel seems to avoid your wide gaze out of shyness. At last, he meets your eyes, still finding surprise on your face. âDoes it feel okay?â Miguel asks, slowly and almost reluctantly taking another step back to give you space.
âYe-yes,â you answer softly, speechless. You clear your throat and smile, trying to shake off the surprise, or at least not make it so obvious that you're shocked. âYes. It's fine. Perfect, actually,â you continue with a smile.
âGood,â Miguel says with a small grin. âNow your look is complete, Dulzura.â
âYour change, sir,â the business owner says, dropping the money on his hand.
While Miguel thanks the lady, your eyes land on a beautiful bow. It's lilac with little white pearls lining the two tails. You gently pick it up, imagining that little girl with the toothy smile who loved science and fĂștbol so much wearing it.
In seconds, you imagine what it'd be like if she was here. You can picture Miguel carrying her on his shoulders, both their faces painted for the celebrations. If she was walking, you can imagine her holding his hand as they walk, tugging him to the small businesses to see everything. You even imagine her pulling him to this booth and picking this very bow because it matches her dress.
Smiling, you check the tag before pulling money out. âI'd like to buy this one, please,â you tell the lady once Miguel finishes talking with her.
Miguel turns to look at you, surprised. âYou should've told me you liked that one, too. I can pay ââ Miguel starts but you hand the money to the lady before he can finish.
âItâs for Gabby and I wish to pay for it,â you gently reply to Miguel.
âWould you like to get this packaged?â the lady offers.
âPlease. That way it doesn't get damaged on the way home,â you answer.
âOf course. Are you guys going home to your child? A little girl, maybe?â the woman asks the two of you with a smile, making another innocent assumption that you both have a daughter.
âIâŠâ you trail off before you start to shake your head.
âMy daughter â she â she's no longer with us,â Miguel explains gently, though not explaining that Gabby is just his daughter.
The lady's face softens when she hears that. âOh, I'm so sorry for your loss,â she replies full of sincerity. She closes the small box and hands it to you, your money on top. âIt's on the house, for your little girl.â
Both Miguel and you decline politely at the same time, but the lady gently pushes the box into your hands.
âPlease. As a gift,â she insists, still pushing the box into your hands.
You accept it hesitantly, only to not come off as rude. You pick up the money bill and offer it again. âPlease-â
âNo, no. Please take it. For your daughter,â the lady continues, stepping back. âI want you to. Accept it as a DĂa de Los Muertos gift. I hope your little one enjoys it.â
You sigh softly and lower your hand. âThank you so much,â you reply, holding the box carefully.
âGracias, doña. You didnât have to, but thank you,â Miguel says after you, sincerely thanking the lady.
âOf course, jovenes [young people; youths]. Please take care and enjoy the celebrations. Have a great night,â the woman says, wishing you well before another customer approaches the booth.
Miguel and you walk away and continue on your way to watch some of the live performances, holding the box closer to you to make sure the bow doesnât get damaged somehow.
âThat was so nice of her,â you say softly as you both reach the center of the downtown, where thereâs already a lot of people waiting.
âIt was,â Miguel answers, agreeing. âIt was a kind gesture. Hers and yours,â Miguel continues. âI appreciate you trying to buy it for Gabby. Iâm certain she wouldâve loved it.â Miguel smiles at that, knowing itâs true.
You grin. âI was thinking about her wearing it with a matching dress.â
Miguelâs smile softens, imagining his daughter eager to wear her bow with a matching dress. It brings a warmth to his chest. âThank you, Dulzura. She wouldâve definitely worn it like that. I⊠I imagine she wouldâve wanted me to do her hair in a ponytail to wear it, too.â
You both grow quiet, thinking about that vision until the live performances begin. With interest and enthusiasm, Miguel and you watch lovely performances by amazing artists, including a mariachi band, who sing some of the most iconic songs to Mexico and talented ballet folk dancers donning beautiful and authentic attires among other great presentations that keep the spirit for the celebrations high.
Towards the end, Miguel and you eventually decide to go home, but not before you run into an elderly couple who you both overhear quietly talking about not having enough money to buy food from one of the food trucks.
âTenemos comida en la casa, mi amor [we have food at home, my love],â the elderly man said. âMaybe in a few weeks we can buy the ingredients and make this meal ourselves. We can save for it.â
âYouâre right, Balby. We should go home now,â his wife answered.
Hearing that, neither Miguel nor you could simply walk away. So, you bought the couple dinner and even gave them extra money for food. Youâre not sure how much it was in total, but Miguel gave them plenty and you gave them what you converted a few days ago. Knowing theyâll be enjoying a great dinner, Miguel and you wish them a good night before you walk away, wanting to go home to complete the ofrenda and have dinner.
While you both walk away, side by side as always, the elderly couple watch you from their seats.
âSo you were right, mi amor,â the man says with a grin.
âI always am, Balby,â the woman answers with satisfaction. âThose two have pure and courageous hearts. And theyâre meant to be together.â
âI cannot deny it,â the man says. âEven I can see that. However will we pay them for their kindness tonight?â
âIâll see what I can do,â the woman says, watching the two figures fade into the crowd.
âHow about a wager, mi amor?â
âNo wagers tonight!â the woman replies before they both disappear, invisible to everyone else, to pass on the kindness Miguel and you gave to them.
[Characters from The Book of Life film; La Muerte and Xibalba (Balby)]
It takes less than half an hour before you reach the penthouse, and upon arrival, Miguel and you change into lounging clothes before heading to the kitchen to reheat the food. In the meantime, Miguel also makes pancakes with chocolate chips for Gabby, wanting those to be freshly made.
Once everything is ready, the food is offered.
Plates with tamales and pink conchas are placed. Bowls with delicious pozole, too. A fresh batch of chocolate chip pancakes is set in front of Gabbyâs photograph. Apples and oranges are placed for Conchata and strawberries for Gabby. The various kinds of candy you placed on a tray earlier are distributed between Gabby and Gabriel, which include Paletas Payaso, Canelâs gum, and Pulparindos. And of course, Miguel didnât forget his loved onesâ favorite drinks like the Jarritos and Chocomilk for Gabby.
Your parents, uncle Ben and Aunt May, and Peter had their favorite foods and drinks served, too.
To complete the ofrenda, Miguel places other offerings for his loved ones. He begins by putting a few things for his mom and his wife. When heâs done with their portions of the ofrenda, he moves to Gabrielâs part. Miguel smiles at his brotherâs photo before he gently pulls out Gabrielâs green scarf from his pocket, placing it on the lower level in front of the photograph, offering it.
At last, thereâs the youngest OâHara, Gabby. Like previous years, Miguel places dolls for her, from a scientist to a soccer player and a few other toys. He offers a few new books because she loved to read, books he bought a few days ago with you at his side. From the bag in which he stored everything, he also pulls out a soccer ball. It was a must, of course. And finally, Miguel places her guitar, too, hoping that wherever Gabby is, she can enjoy her beloved guitar.
âI almost forgot,â you say softly, walking closer with the packaged bow. You offer it to Miguel, so he can place it, but Miguel shakes his head.
âYou place it,â he replies. âI know you were going to buy it for her, so you should do it. Itâs alright if you do so.â
âAre you sure?â you ask, not wanting to push boundaries.
âIâm sure, truly,â Miguel reassures you with a small smile, one you return.
With a nod, you open the box and pull the bow out, admiring it for a few seconds and thinking once more about a different timeline in which Gabriella was here, physically. You place it between the two dolls, silently hoping that Gabby likes it. You step back to look at the fully finished ofrenda. It took some time and love, but itâs completed at last and itâs so beautiful.
Both Miguel and you stand in silence, admiring it. The silence is a comfortable one, not out of grief despite the several photos in display of loved ones physically gone. Itâs a silence of comfort and hope that those who have left too soon and unexpectedly come home, even if just for a few hours to share a meal with their living loved ones once more.
Miguelâs eyes trace every single photo in silence. He feels at peace, something he didnât feel three years ago. There was too much pain, too much heartbreak. And, too much loneliness, even if he didnât fully admit it to himself back then. Yet, three years later, Miguel stands in his penthouse â same one that felt so incredibly void and cold before, but now feels like home.
Home.
Miguel turns to face you. Things are different now. Thereâs less pain, less heartbreak. Heâs learned better ways to manage his feelings, too, thatâs for sure. Even better, thereâs no more loneliness. With a soft sigh, Miguel finally breaks the silence. âDinner?â he simply says, watching the way you turn to look at him with your face still painted, much like his.
âThat sounds good. Iâm actually starving,â you confess with a grin.
âItâs all that walking,â Miguel answers before he gestures for the two of you to return to the kitchen for food.
Due to the celebrations, Miguel and you go back to the living room with plates containing food to have dinner with your loved ones. You enjoy the food over conversation regarding the wonderful performances.
Not surprisingly, Lyla shows up halfway through dinner to play music for the two of you. She also takes the opportunity to sneakily take pictures for her secret, or not so secret, folder of digital content before disappearing again.
Eventually, Miguel and you take off the makeup before returning to the kitchen for what feels like the hundredth time to prepare café de olla and arroz con leche specifically for Gabby. When all is done, more than two mugs are set on one of the kitchen counters to pour coffee into them. Together, the two of you carry the mugs to the ofrenda, placing one mug for everyone except Gabby.
âPara ti no, mija,â Miguel tenderly states with a smile on his lips. He places the mug you gifted him for Fatherâs Day earlier this year, the one with the two bees, filled with arroz con leche and topped with a generous amount of cinnamon powder with the rest of her food. âEstĂĄs muy chiquita para tomar cafĂ© todavĂa, but I made your favorite instead.â Taking a step back, Miguelâs eyes soften when he looks at his daughterâs photograph. If only she were here, Miguel thinks, before he settles down on the floor with you in front of the ofrenda. He picks up his mug with coffee and takes a drink, the music from earlier still playing thanks to Lyla who left it on. âThank you,â Miguel suddenly says, turning to look at you. âFor joining me tonight and participating in the tradition⊠For allowing your family to join mine.â
You hum and offer him a smile, holding your mug in both hands. âNo, thank you⊠Solecito,â you reply, using that nickname again. âFor allowing me to be part of it again and for inviting my family into your ofrenda. It means so much to me,â you continue. âSo, thank you.â
âSiempre,â Miguel whispers, his heart skipping a beat when he hears the new sweet nickname youâve given him. âAlways⊠But, seriously⊠Thank you for being here with me again. For accepting my offer.â Miguelâs eyes meet yours, his gaze tender. He knows that his invitation for your family to join the family ofrenda might have been too much â too personal â even for best friends, but still, Miguel couldnât help himself from making it. He turns to look at the ofrenda again, noting how big it turned out with your family being part of it. After a few seconds, Miguel turns to face you again. âThank you.â
You smile sweetly and nod, knowing what Miguel means. Having your family join the ofrenda was certainly a personal gesture, a much more intimate one than previous ones simply because itâs about family, and itâs a gesture you appreciate so much. âAlways,â you whisper back.
Much, much later, you lean back on the couch with heavy eyes. Itâs late at night, about three in the morning now. Miguel and you have spent the last few hours just talking and drinking cafĂ© de olla. You were feeling alert, but all of a sudden, youâre hit with a tranquility, one that seems to caress you into a sleep. You lean into it for a few seconds, closing your eyes and feeling a warmth surround â embrace â you.
Feeling the same, Miguelâs crimson eyes flutter, but he fights the sleep. Or, tries to, anyway. He glances at you, remembering your meeting with Osborn earlier today. He thinks about the hug you two shared, pondering for a bit before he finally speaks. âDulzura?â he whispers, not sure if youâre asleep already.
âHmm?â you sleepily respond, your eyes fluttering just to look at him.
Miguelâs lips quirk up at the sight. You look so cute when youâre sleepy. âI was just thinking about how you said your meeting with Harry was awkward at first because he went straight for the hug,â he says slowly.
âMhm, it was,â you confirm.
âDid the hug feel awkward, too?â Miguel asks, seeing youâre more asleep than awake now.
You yawn softly, covering your mouth, and nod. âIt was. It felt weird,â you respond too softly.
Miguel hums as a response, thinking. He feels something in his chest again, something he didnât register earlier. Envy, perhaps? Envy that Harry Osborn who has only been in your life for a few months now, if even that, has embraced you before he has, even if it was awkward.
He sighs and rubs his eyes. He doesnât know why heâs even feeling like that. Itâs silly.
Right?
On top of that, Miguel also feels a bit of shame and disappointment in himself. âIâm sorry,â Miguel sleepily murmurs to you.
âWhat â For what?â you ask, Miguelâs words waking you up a bit.
âFor⊠I still havenât â You know. I havenât embraced you yet,â Miguel replies quietly, disappointment and shame laced in his tone.
âMiguel,â you start gently. âYou donât have to apologize. Not for that, you know that. This isnât a race. Itâs a healing journey, and everyone needs their own pace to heal from their grief and trauma. Youâre going at your pace and therefore, honoring your boundaries and yourself, which is so important. Thatâs all that matters to me.â You offer him a reassuring smile before continuing. âThatâs not to say, I donât wish to⊠One day have the opportunity to experience that â a hug from you, but everything at its due time, okay?â you murmur softly, as if there were other people in the room.
Miguel nods, reassured by your words and gentle reminder. âThank you, Dulzura. I appreciate itâŠâ he answers, feeling better. Youâre always so understanding of him and his boundaries. After a few seconds, he continues. âOne of these days,â Miguel tells you softly, sounding like a promise he fully intends on fulfilling.
âOne of these days,â you repeat gently, looking forward to the day.
You both think about it â about the day in which Miguel will be open to that kind of physical touch. You think about what itâd feel like, to hold each other close. To learn what it's like to be in each other's arms.
When that day comes, Miguel knows he will hug you close and remember what it feels like to hug someone after so many years of going without a single embrace.
With that in mind, you both admire the ofrenda again. It somehow looks even more beautiful now in the dark living room with the candlesâ dancing flames. It almost feels like they're waving at the two of you.
Still looking at the ofrenda, Miguel wonders if thereâs a chance that both your relatives are here tonight. If they made it. He hopes they did and that they enjoyed the food and belongings that were offered to them.
As the minutes tick by, that wave of sleep rolls over you again and instead of fighting it, Miguel and you surrender to it this time. Thereâs a warmth that reaches and embraces you both. Itâs so familiar neither of you can help yourselves from leaning into it like a child leans into their parentsâ warmth for safety and comfort.
The last thing you both hear is static coming from the speakers from which music was just now playing. A soft, sad guitar begins to play, but youâre both asleep already â lulled by a warm, gentle, and familiar energy not visible to the human eye, but always around.
Remember me
Though I have to say goodbye
RecuĂ©rdameâŠ
Previous â
⥠â â
â
â
ââââ ⥠âââ â
â
â
ââ ⥠â
Next
A/N: Hiiiiiiii!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter đ„ș Ever since last year, I wanted to write a short chapter for DĂa de Muertos, but alas, I didn't get the chance to, so I couldn't miss it this year!
Guys... I was giggling and kicking my feet when MIGUEL PUT THE HEADBAND ON OUR HEADS RAHHHHHHHHHHH AND THEN THE FACT HE FELT A BIT JEALOUS OVER HARRY HUGGING US??? (forgive me for screaming but !!!) and then the fact he's thinking more about it -- about hugging us!! đ„č
Also, don't mind the direct reference to The Book of Life. I was working on this chapter Thursday and listening to the official soundtrack for it because it's genuinely one of my fav movies ever, which I plan on watching tonight, and then the idea popped in my head to include La Muerte and Xibalba somehow and well... I did it. đ
Also, what do we think about Harry? I was cringing while writing that part because they're so awkward!đđ But anyway, what do we think? đ€ Side note, I was fighting the urge to make Felix a hot old man, I'm ngl đ(I'm still imagining him to be hot, I'm sorry).
Ok, I think that's all and I must go now because my siblings are bothering me to help them with something. I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, show it some love! Take care everyone, and happy November! đ
Alondraâ€ïž
p.s. I haven't forgotten about chapter 20's comments and reblogs. I'm sorry for how long it's taken me to reply to them. I got behind because of the three chapters I dropped 3 weeks ago, but I promise I'll get to them this upcoming week!! Thank you so much for the amazing love and support as always!! I love you guys đđđ„č
Credits: Gif by @/halloween-pumpkin-queen. Purple dividers by @/thecutestgrotto and green divider by @/vysleix
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@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 @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj
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#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara imagine#atsv x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#nonviolent communication#soft!Miguel O'Hara
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A Dance in the Darkened Wood
Just two players. papers, tokens, and two d6.
An ancient ritual dictates that when two champions battle to the death, the victoriousâ village will gain a yearâs protection. Tonight this is you, but somethingâs wrong. Every death wakes you that same morning, transformed.
On character sheet, mark stats with three points each.
Mark appearance.
A space for wounds.
FORCE- strength, power. Exert will and brutality.
SURVIVAL- speed, biological self. Take blows and avoid danger.
CONCEPTUALIZATION- intellect, creativity, planning, higher thought.
WILLPOWER- bravery, persistence, patience. Get back up.
HEART- love, trust, understanding, for another and the world.
Play starts the moment you lock eyes. You are in a darkened wood.
When you contest an action they take upon you, contesting roll plus methodâs associated stat.
When you contest what they enact upon anything else, roll for that thing with your own stats. The winner narrates, choosing to inflict a wound if desired.
With three wounds from the same stat, you are BROKEN. You fail all rolls and can be killed.
When one dies, both reset.
Mark four stat increases and two decreases for their next form. Mark how their form has altered. Reveal simultaneously.
Five loops or until you choose peace.
Keep reading
Ok this could prolly be more readable if it had... more words.... but swagever! i made it and it's mine and it's cool so yeah. :3 uh i don't know if the title counts as part of the word count... i don't think it does?? also this thing in retrospect is probably very difficult to understand if you're not well versed in ttrpgs... i hope it makes, like, enough sense for whoever's reading this anyway. the stats are force, survival, etc... also when i say "contesting," i mean that you are both making rolls, sometimes in different stats, and whoever rolls higher wins and narrates. i have a lotta ideas for how this could be improved... which would require more words of course. i may have to release that thing later this month if i have time, writing for rpgs is really fun. perhaps i could even do some amateur formatting and sell it on itch for $2 a pop... the skies truly is the limit. uh i believe the Slay The Princess inspiration here is obvious, the general word choice and tone is inspired by the twine games by Porpentine Charity Heartscape, especially Howling Dogs. please lmk if you play it i think it would be really fun tbh
200 Word RPGs 2024
Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.
This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.
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Joost Klein SFW Alphabet
a/n: can we just admire how good joost looks in the pictures above
cw: light cussing, some sexual implications (nothing happens), mentions of death, mentions of drugs and alcohol
âĄâ.Ëââ.ËâĄ
A=Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Itâs fairly obvious that the man is very touchy and energetic with everyone, even more so with his partner (you) tbh.
He would always try to touch you in some sense wether that be holding your hand while walking, keeping his arm around your waist while hanging out with your mutual friends, or just resting his head on your shoulder whenever he feels tired.
When you guys are at home he would probably sneak up behind you whenever he saw you doing stuff around the house. Once he snuck up behind you while you were seasoning some vegetables with cayenne pepper, safe to say that the broccoli tasted like satanâs dandruff.
Joost seems like he would be a D1 clinger; always wanting to be around you and following you around everywhere. Luckily he isnât to light a sleeper and does not wake up immediately after you get out of bed so at least you can piss in peace at three am; the same cannot be said during the day time though. You could be taking the shortest shower ever and he would still come into the bathroom just to bother you.
âBaby, why is the sky blue.â
âI donât fucking knowâ
âOkâ
Even though he can be annoy just for the sake of bothering you he would love to see you happy; your smile was his favorite thing to see. He would give you endless compliments and praise, he would always do anything that you asked him to, and of course he would always love giving you the tightest hugs ever.
B=Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)
When you first met joost you never thought that youâd be dating him; you just assumed that he would be another acquaintance ïżŒyou had in the Netherlands. Joost on the other hand knew that he liked you as soon as he saw you.
After that first interaction you exchanged numbers and started talking more and more. He eventually became your best friend. You two were inseparable for the most part; he would always be in your apartment and vice versa. He would always try to make you laugh with his corny jokes and as much as you tried not to you always let out a chuckle or two.
he breathed in and out before he opened his mouth âokay, why is 6 scared of 7â he stared at you with those piercing baby blue eyes
âWhyâ you already knew the answer but wanted to see where he went with it
âBecause 7,8,9â he burst out laughing, you wouldâve thought that Jim Carey was doing a live performance in front of joost with the sound of his laughter.
You tried not to laugh but joostâs cackle was to infectious and you just couldnât help but laugh with him.
âSee I am very funny you just donât like to admit itâ he added once his little episode ended
âYour laugh is funnier than your jokes to be honestâ you retorted
âSure buddyâ
Overall he would be a great friend whoâs always there for you and always supports you. He would always take you to different places and maybe even invite you on tour, well if you had time that is.
And like all best friends do you guys had so many inside jokes that no one other than you two get. Once when you were out together you once saw a guy who stole something getting chased by a man who appeared to be a giant, he yelled âget back hereâ with a big deep growl. Now whenever youâre all alone one you says get back here and both of you start to giggle; recalling how funny the moment was
C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
This man is obsessed with cuddling and hugging you to be honest. The first thing he does after coming home from tour is taking of his shoes (duh) and then getting into bed with you; trying not to wake you up and pulling your body closer to his. You smell so good and he canât resist just taking a small sniff of you. If you were to wake up he would stroke your hair and shush back to sleep.
He canât help but hug you every time he sees you wether that be a small side hug or a tight ass bear hug that leaves you breathless. He just loves wrapping his arms around your waist when youâre cooking, cleaning, or brushing your teeth. He would sneak up behind you, wrap his strong arms around you, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear; hoping that in return for his kindness he would get a small peck on the lips and maybe somewhere else too
When cuddling in bed or on the couch he would always have his longs legs wrapped around you, another way that he would keep you from leaving his warm embrace. Even though heâs a mega yapper something about being in your presence calms him; he would be super silent whenever he had you like this. He would also love playing with you hair if you let him (all my curly girls/boys/theys know exactly what Iâm talking about) and if you didnât he would resort to slightly stroking your hands
D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Joost never though that he would settle down. He was used to the rockstar lifestyle full of parties, drugs, and alcohol; That was until he met you. He was smitten the second he started talking to you, his loud and cool personality seemed to have floated away to some distant galaxy when he opened his mouth. Overall he was very sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you from the moment he met you.
He would know basic kitchen skills like how to fry and scramble eggs but other than that he was completely clueless. Before he met you his diet was made up of takeout and potato chips. You tried to teach him how to cook but he was not receptive at all; he jumped whenever he heard oil pop and somehow burned the pasta you were trying to prepare so now youâre the one who cooks for the both of you.
Joost would be way better at cleaning than he is at cooking. He can be unorganized at times but he can really pull through whenever you need him to
E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He wouldnât try to beat around the bush, heâd just tell you directly not trying to play with emotions. Leaving you was probably the hardest decision he had ever made and the face you made after he broke the news didnât make him feel any better
F= Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
He knew that he wanted to be in a committed relationship the moment he met you but more dating than marriage. As time passed he fell more in love with you and thatâs when he knew he needed to marry you. It would take him a couple years to get comfortable with the idea of marriage and a couple months to actually plan out your engagement.
G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
The definition of gentle giant. For the most part he treats you like a little flowers whose petals might come off if roughed up enough but on the other hand he could also be rough; not enough to harm you but still rough. You guys will play fight a lot and that usually ends in one of you landing on their ass and the other hysterically
H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)
The man is obsessed with both giving and receiving hugs. He loves wrapping his arms around you after a long day and just breathing your scent in. It could be 90 degrees outside and he would still want to hug you (he would pout when you pulled him off of your sweaty body).
He just loves feeling close to you and hugging you is like the closest he can get for now.
I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
It would take him 3 months max to say I love you. He had invited you over for a movie night; he bought all the sweets, drinks, and chips he knew you liked (because as I said before he only knows how to make eggs) and spread them over his kitchen table; almost like a movie theater. A half hour into the movie and both you were on the verge of sleep; both of you trying to keep your eyes open for the other.
You started to ârestâ your eyes and lay your head down on joostâs lap. 5 minutes had passed and you surprisingly hadnât fallen asleep yet. But just as you were about to pass you felt joostâs warm hands stroking at your head, he silently whispered the words âI love youâ into your head. You slowly turned around and whispered âI love youâ back to him before finally falling asleep
J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)
He isnât jealous most times. He feels very secure in your relationship and knows that you would never try to hurt him. Even though he knows all of this he canât but be jealous over petty things sometimes
Like why are you always smiling at everyone?why do other people stare at you do much? how come your cat can see you naked and he canât?
These are all very important questions that he needs the answers to immediately.
If you guys go on a night out trust he will be keeping you as close as possible and stare in the soul of anyone who even tries to flirt with you.
K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
He kisses you nice and slow; trying to savor the moment for as long as possible. He would love kissing you everywhere but his personal favorite would be your plump lips, your neck, and all over your back. He lovesss when you kiss his lips and neck (heâs also obsessed with the idea of you giving him hickeys and is constantly asking you to give him at least one)
L= Little ones (How are they around children?)
His silly and goofy demeanor translates well into taking care of kids. He just loves hanging around kids; their wonder and hopefulness really makes him want to have a kid of his own.
M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He stays up late and wakes up extremely late. No matter how late you wake up he will always wake up at least an later. Once he woke up at four in the afternoon. Even if he does manage to wake up early he would stay in bed and cuddle with you. Donât even think of trying to escape he grasp because he will pull you closer and wrap his arms around you even tighter. You would have to be actively pissing your pants for him to let you go.
N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)
He would stay up longer than you most nights or simply just come home very late. On the off chance that he doesnât come him heâll call you and let you know so that you donât stay up all night waiting for him. He loves to watch you do your skincare routine; always asking what the product your using is and what it does.
Another thing he loves to do is watch you. Just watching the face you make when your scrolling on your phone is enough to make his heart melt. Not to mention the face you make while your asleep, whenever he gets home late heâll just stand at the door of your shared bedroom and just look at your calm face.
O= Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)
Joost is a very honest person so he would tell you a lot about himself the first few times you hang out.
In regards to deep secrets it would probably take him a bit longer to tell you about them but even then he told you a majority of them by month 3 of your relationship.
P= Patience (How easily are they angered?)
When it comes to you heâs never mad, heâs like a slightly laid back version of himself when heâs around you. Heâll only ever snap if heâs under a lot of stress and you keep pushing him with questions.
But if anyone were ever to disrespect you in front of him they would never hear the end of it, he would call them ever insult he could think them and force them to apologize to you.
Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)
That man is absolutely obsessed with you so trust that he will remember almost everything you tell him. He knows your favorite brand of detergent, your favorite artist, he just knows everything about you and what you like. There are some things that he might forget but for the most part he knows everything there is to know about you.
R= Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)
Everything. His favorite moment is quite literally everything you have done together.
S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)
Heâs like your own private bodyguard. He is very protective over you and hates whenever someone else tries to talk to you while yâall are in the middle of a conversation. He finds himself hovering behind you at different events just so that no one else has the opportunity to try and sway you away (he knows that youâd never leave him but still they should fuck off).
T= Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Baby boy is always trying his best whenever he does something for you. Heâll listen more intently once it gets closer to different events/holidays like Christmas, your birthday, and your guysâ anniversary.
He really does try to make life easier for you but when it comes to cooking and storing dishes heâs completely useless.
U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Whenever gets hyper obsessed (me reference) /focused on different projects heâll just shut everyone else out and do whatever he needs to do with no break. Heâll also lash out at people who try to talk to him about something other than the project at hands whenever something like this happens. A complete 180 but he would also be a compulsive nail bitter, itâs just something he does whenever heâs bored. Youâve tried to get him to stop but nothing works.
V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Joost Klein is a fashion icon, do you think that he wouldnât be obsessed with the way he looks. He loves shopping (specifically thrift stores) and he loves whenever you pick out something for him, even if he doesnât like the piece itâs still nice that you thought about him.
He loves whenever you do his hair and makeup. Even if your doing a lit comb of his hair or putting a bit of concealer under his eyes he just loves that you care about him enough to do all of that.
He calls you every day when heâs on tour always wanting your opinion on his outfit and hair and just your opinion about his in general (he really cares about what you think if you havenât noticed).
W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He hates being away from you in general. He misses you when your at work and heâs at home, he misses you when youâre picking up dinner and heâs in your shared apartment; counting down the minutes until your home, and he especially hates when youâre using the restroom and heâs just laying in bed.
So just imagine how he would feel if you ever broke up or if god forbid you ever died. He would never be the same again in either cases. Spending the rest of his life sulking over you.
X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them)
This man is a eater (in both of the ways your thinking hunny). Itâs like the acid in his stomach is extra strong and just dissolves everything he consumed immediately with the amount he eats. You could prepare a feast fit for a small village and he would eat the whole thing and ask for dessert. Speaking of dessert whenever you make like a pie you secretly make another one for yourself because you already know the first one is going to be done by tomorrow.
Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)
Canât stand people who speak down to others and people who are rude in general. He also hates certain vegetables when theyâre mushy like peas and mushrooms.
Z= Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)
Heâs a semi deep sleeper but he has a very strong grip when heâs asleep so good like trying to go use the restroom late at night. He snores softly while asleep, itâs not like those obnoxious snores you hear in the movies but almost like a soft snort. He moves around a lot in his sleep and takes you with him, sometimes you wake up on the other side of the bed opposite the headboard.
âĄâ.Ëââ.ËâĄ
I lowkey wanna do a nsfw version but I donât really know, lemme know what you think
Notes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated and ty for reading
#joost klein x reader#joost klein oneshot#joost x reader#joost klein fic#joost klein fanfic#joost klein x you#joost x you#joost fanfic#joost klein#i love joost
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A Touch of Sweetness 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson
Sister series to mob!Thor
Summary: you make a new friend, but thatâs not all. (short reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â€ïž
âThat was awesome. We have so many berries,â you dust the dirt off your capris as you stand. âWhat are you going to make with yours?âÂ
Loki squints up at the sky and doesnât answer. You frown. Heâs not paying attention.Â
âBrother,â Thor calls him back to earth, âthe little one asked a question.âÂ
âYou may keep them all,â he says as he puts his chin down. âI have no need of berries.âÂ
âBut... you helped pick them all. You should get some. Oo, have you ever tried berries and a cream? Or you could make a smoothie--âÂ
âI said keep them,â he slithers and pushes his jacket back to slide his hands into his pockets. âAre we done then?âÂ
âYouâve nowhere important to be,â Thor insists. âI would know.âÂ
You sway awkwardly. You donât want to be a nuisance. Not like you always are.Â
âYou know, I had lots of fun. With all of you, but I think I should just go home now,â you suggest. âThanks for coming.â You smile at Queenie, âit was nice to meet you.â You turn and look at Loki, âand you.âÂ
He peers down his nose at you as his lips thin. âIt wasnât entirely unpleasant.âÂ
You look back at the others, âwhat about the berries?â Queenie asks, âyou could come over and show me how to make something.â She pauses and looks at Thor. He grins.Â
âOf course she can,â he assures. âYou could come now, even.âÂ
âI appreciate that but I gotta get going.âÂ
âWe will message and arrange the details then,â Thor declares. âDrive safe.âÂ
âYeah, Iâll see you tomorrow,â Queenie murmurs grimly.Â
âI canât wait,â you say. âThank you for all your help, Loki.âÂ
His cheek ticks and he pushes his shoulders up, âit was nothing. Only got my suit dirty.âÂ
You giggle. Heâs funny. Well, now he knows not to wear something so nice to a berry farm.Â
âAlrighty, Iâll be going then. I wanna get some pictures of the bunnies before I go,â you chime. âBuh bye!âÂ
You turn and skip off. Youâre wired with excitement. It might not have been a shining success but you made one friends at least. Queenie is nice and it seems like she needs a friend too.Â
You stop by the bunny stall and snap some photos before you head off. Youâve spent enough money and time there. Besides, you donât like driving in the dark and itâs a lot later than you thought.Â
When you get home, your sister is there with Estelle. You head to kitchen to put your berries in the fridge. As you make space, Jada enters with her minion at her side.Â
âDid you have fun playing in the dirt like a child?â She taunts.Â
âSure did,â you say as you slide the basket onto the shelf.Â
âSure looks like you did,â Estelle scoffs.Â
You look down at your outfit. You have berry just on one knee and some soil on the other. Oh well, they arenât your favourite pants.Â
âYou couldâve come. It was really cool. They had bunnies and a horse cart.â You say.Â
âDid he stand you up?â Jada asks, ignoring your suggestion.Â
âStand me up? Who?âÂ
âOh, donât play dumb. Thor. You said thatâs what he asked you outside the cafe. So what happened? Did he realise youâre a loser?âÂ
âI told you, he said he wanted me to meet his girlfriend. Sheâs nice,â you shrug.Â
âNice? Sheâs probably too good for you. I mean, sheâs dating him.â She snickers. âDo you even know who Thor Odinson is? What he does?âÂ
âI would know. You gush about him all the time,â you stick your tongue out.Â
âThatâs not true,â she snaps.Â
Estelle laughs, âyou kinda of do... along with the rest of them.âÂ
âHeâs a criminal,â Jada says.Â
You just stare at her. âSo whyâd you let me go? I'm your sister?âÂ
âOh, donât do that,â she puffs. âYou always are so pathetic. And stupid. Youâre an adult, you can take care of yourself.âÂ
âCome on, Jada, donât be bitter. Youâre the one whoâs obsessed with the outfit.â Estelle nudges her.Â
âYouâre taking her side?â Jada turns on her.Â
âNo, hell no. But youâre being dramatic. I bet he thought it was funny. Sheâs so dumb, itâs like having a clown at the party. Something to laugh at,â Estelle jeers.Â
âExactly,â Jada agrees and laugh tritely, âshe is a clown.âÂ
You frown but donât argue. Sheâll just keep calling you names. You wait for her to go before you retreat to your room. The triumph of your day is quickly blotted out by the spiteful chittering you can hear in the front room.Â
You wash up and get changed for bed. Maybe Queenie wonât message. Maybe it was all just a game to Thor. After all, what are you compared to him and his pretty, sophisticated girlfriend? And his brother seemed entirely unimpressed by it all.Â
You fall asleep in a roil of doubt. You awake, little by little, and linger in bed as you search for the will to get up. You yawn and rub your eyes. You stand up and step into your slippers that look like cows.Â
You go out to the kitchen and groggily flip on the electric kettle. As you wait for the water to boil, you go to the fridge and open it mindlessly. Itâs more of a habit than an actual mission for anything. You skim the shelves and notice the empty space where your basket of berries should be.Â
You let the door shut and look around the kitchen. The basket is empty on the counter. It must have been Jada. Itâs like when you got that bottle of Coach perfume with your first pay check and she smash it against the school wall.Â
What a waste.Â
You hang your head and go back to your room. Youâre hurt but not surprised. Sheâs been doing stuff like this for so long, youâre almost numb to it. Â
You close your door slowly as you spot the dark stains across the front of your dresser. You flip the lights on and see the berry-coloured fingerprints all around the drawers. You cross the room and open the top drawer. You check every one and find the same thing in all. You must have slept through it all.Â
All your clothes are smeared in berries. Theyâre starting to stink too. You take out a couple shirts and sigh. You could cry but that would only make Jada laugh louder.Â
You shut the drawers and grab your phone from the charger. You go back to the kitchen as you weigh the day laundry to be done. A message pops up as you pour boiling water over a tea bag. You read the screen and swipe up the phone from the counter.Â
âIâll send a car at noon. Queenie is looking forward to it.âÂ
You read a re-read the invitation. It doesnât leave you any room for rejection. Recalling Jadaâs words, you donât think it is an option. Thor might be nice but he is who he is. You might be just as stupid as they say getting yourself tangled up in all this mess. Yet, your only family are much more sinister than these people your sister claims to be criminals. Youâll take your chances with them.Â
#loki#dark loki#dark!loki#loki x reader#series#drabble#au#mob au#a touch of sweetness#marvel#avengers#mcu
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More Between Us.
Youâve always been just friends, but they canât ignore how their heart races whenever youâre near.
FEAT. Isagi, Bachira
NOTES. probably my most tooth-rotting post yet! annnd I totally forgot I had this in my drafts Bring this duo back to me though pleasj
ISAGI is easygoing, and mild-mannered by nature (though perhaps his rivals disagree on that). Itâs literally harder to not be friends with him. Your relationship was equally good, nothing particularly special and not abysmal. The type of friends who might talk on the way to class if you spot each other, but never go out of their way to do so either.
If asked, you wouldnât even say best friends; heâs too busy with his teammates, and you have your own friend group.
See, Isagi enjoys thinking about stuff in a logical sense, using reason and evidence to support his âtheoryâ. Both in real life and in football.
So before he even comes to the conclusion of a crush, firstly, thereâs the small details he picks up about you.
Your eyes shift colour slightly if the sun hits them right. But, he reckons that happens with everyoneâs eyes. Your eyes crinkle upwards when you smile, and maybe even dimples form on your cheeks as you do so. He likes seeing people smile, and yours is⊠in a way, cuter than anyone elseâs? If he had to rank smiles, heâd put yours near the top. All hypothetical, obviously!
Heâs always been observant, even as a kid, so Isagi figured he was just feeling a little more insightful as of late but it doesnât stop there.
Suddenly, Isagi finds himself unconsciously lingering in places he knows you'll be. He tells himself it's just coincidence, but deep down, he has a feeling that heâs seeking you out more often.
Practicing with his team becomes a lot more strategic, with him making sure he's near your usual route home (not in a stalker way, at least, he hopes not), and just on time so that he can âbump into youâ and walk together.
And he lives in the complete opposite direction, so, while you donât mind his presence, you find it a little odd.
Isagi begins to remember every little thing you mention, even the small stuff, like your favorite snack or the song you've been listening to on repeat. Next thing you know, heâs casually surprising you with them, acting like itâs no big deal but loves it when you get visibly excited about it.
He fumbles with his words a little more around you now, overthinking simple things that never used to bother him. Itâs not like heâs shy (actually one of the best communicators out of everyone), he just doesnât want to mess up or make you think heâs weird!
If he says something that could be interpreted as mildly creepy, heâs actually the first one to call it out and apologise over and over again. Beats himself up about it at home, even if you thought it was mildly funny that he knew what you were doing last week Tuesday at around 5:06PMâŠ
When his teammates joke about him having a crush, he laughs it off, but thereâs always a little pink in his cheeks that he hopes you donât notice.
He'll start texting you first more often, just to share something funny or ask for your opinion on something trivial. Itâs an excuse, really, just to have another reason to talk to you.
Also catches himself smiling whenever he sees a notification from you pop up on his phone, and his heart does a little flip when he reads your replies, no matter how mundane they are. Literally a âhey, Iâm bored. Wanna hang outâ is enough for him to lose sleep over it.
When you two do eventually go to said hang out, he pays extra attention to you: whether it's making sure youâre comfortable, or that youâve got enough to eat, heâs always subtly looking out for you.
Despite all these signs, Isagi convinces himself itâs better this way â giving you small hints for you to understand rather than straight-up confessing. If you notice them and accept, great! If you notice and donât accept, thatâs fine too, he hopes you can remain friends though!
If youâre completely oblivious, well⊠heâll muster up the courage to say it outright.
You and BACHIRA are like two peas in a pod together! Where thereâs one, the otherâs probably lurking nearby somewhere. Every second of every day seems to be spent with each other (and to anybody with common sense, you two already look like youâre dating).
When the crush starts, he thinks about you more than he already did, if that were even possible. Every little thing you do seems to make his heart race, but he sorta brushes it off as just excitement from being with his best friend.
Kind of a trickier situation than Isagiâs one this way though, because now youâre so close, Bachira doesnât even feel that different about you. He might not even realise itâs romantic until his mother points it out in the midst of another one of his rambling sessions. About you, that is.
I wonât sugarcoat it; heâs nervous if anything. Youâre one of the few friends he has and genuinely seem to care and like about him and if he ruins your friendship over his feelings, heâd be devastated.
But heâs back to his usual self and gains a little confidence after some encouragement from others!
Bachiraâs clinginess ramps up a notch, but itâs so typical of him that you might not even notice. Heâs constantly draping an arm around you, leaning on you, or just being in your personal space as much as possible.
Willing to share anything and everything with you. For example, if itâs snacks heâs got, heâs always picking out the best pieces just for you and handing them over with a cute smile.
Bachira finds himself staring at you a lot more now. Sometimes youâll catch him and heâll just laugh it off with a playful comment, but on the inside, his mind is racing with thoughts he canât quite put into words.
When you talk, he listens with full attention, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more tender. He hangs onto your every word like itâs the most important thing heâs ever heard â and you could literally be talking about a bug you saw on the sidewalk this morning.
If you ever need anything, Bachiraâs the first one to jump in and help, no questions asked. Heâd go out of his way just to make you smile, even if it means a truckload of extra effort on his part.
Sometimes, he hints at deeper feelings in his usual roundabout way â in little jokes that might just have a hint of truth behind them. But he always plays it off as just that, a joke.
If youâre feeling down, heâs the first to notice, offering comfort in the form of goofy antics or just sitting with you in silence if thatâs what you want.
If you ever confront him directly and ask if he feels something more than just being friends, Bachira might just spill everything in a rush of words; unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer. But until then, heâs content simply being by your side, even if it means he isnât being entirely honest to himself.
#CHEQ. writing#CHEQ. from the heart#CHEQ. bllk#isagi x reader#bachira x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock imagines#bllk imagines#blue lock headcanons#blue lock x gender neutral reader#bllk x reader#isagi x you#bachira x you#bllk fluff
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These are all good tags.
There's something to be said for how this plays into Ford's vulnerability to Bill too. I'm reminded of this segment from the Book of Bill's missing journal pages:
I think the intent was just to point out how petty Ford is and maybe have a little chuckle at it-- being in his 30s and hanging onto an (apparently) unfair demerit from 3rd grade that didn't even cause him to have a bad grade in the end. But if you think about it from the perspective of somebody who has always repressed his anger and felt the need to maintain his status as the golden child, it makes perfect sense that he would hang onto this. For one, he probably never fully processed the hurt from it-- that has a way of making bad things seem more significant as the bad feelings linger around way longer than they would if you addressed them.
But also, every demerit for Ford is basically as good as a total failure. If he's not golden, he'll have nothing. He and especially his brother will be in even bigger trouble than usual. Getting a demerit for something he can't fix (in this case, because he disagrees with it so strongly that he can't see anything to fix) has got to be incredibly frustrating with everything he has riding on being perfect. He feels like even if he does reach perfection, it won't be enough, because other people's imperfections will ruin it and he can't control them. I mean, I can't imagine he ever managed to convince his teacher of his perfectly valid use of an Oxford comma.
And then Bill shows up and, barely knowing Ford at this point, is able to point at it and say, "Yeah, that was totally unfair because you were right." He's saying that Ford had a perfectly valid reason to be upset, while communicating that he has the same standards of perfection as Ford. Bill is establishing himself as somebody who is not only safe to be angry around but might even judge Ford more positively rather than negatively for holding resentments, and that means everything to Ford.
(This is quite toxic, in case that wasn't obvious. While it's certainly important to process anger, hanging onto grievances for years and years isn't how you do that. It'll just make you angrier in the long run by keeping the wounds open. It's also definitely not good for Ford to be told that his unhealthy degree of perfectionism is completely right and everybody else is wrong for not recognizing it.)
Only Gravity Falls fans with media literacy interact with this post pls ok ok ok so do you think some of Fordâs resentment towards Stanley was in part because he felt like he had to âprotectâ him from Filbrick as the golden child? Like can you imagine if everytime you got mad at your brother, no matter how justified, your dad would verbally abuse him at best and kick him out of the house at worst? How much that fear would weigh on a kid? He loves Stanley, of course he does, and OBVIOUSLY Stanley isnât the one at fault, heâs a victim, but what is a little boy supposed to do when heâs stuck being âthe good twinâ and any strike against his brother, no matter how small, could result in him getting hurt? How much anger did he bottle up? How many times did he force himself to turn the other cheek just to keep him safe? How horrible that night must have been, when everything heâd spent his entire life trying to prevent ended up happening anyway? How his dreams were crushed, a promising future was snatched from him, and the one time he actually lets himself get angry about it his brother is permanently disowned? Imagine how he must have felt looking down from that window. How angry at himself he must have been. How ashamed. Man Iâd close the curtains too. Torn in half between feeling responsible for the suffering of someone you care so much about and feeling rage at them for being the reason you had to stifle yourself for so long. He probably let himself believe Filbrickâs words just to bring himself comfort. Anyway I love nuance I love analysis I love when characters are flawed in ways that arenât excused but are still tragic and understandable I love critical thinking
#none of the pines are bad people really#only bad person(?) is bill#gravity falls#gravity falls ford#stanford pines#bill cipher#the book of bill#media analysis#character discussion#toxic relationship
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hello howl! do you have any favorite hcs of killer that you or someone else created? do yap if there's a lot, my brain is deprived of killerđ„ș
Alright, this are mostly about Stage 2 because heâs on my mind. Feel free to add on with yalls own killer hcs.
1. That Killer has ADHD. Probably a stereotype born from fanon killerâs personality, but I like it if itâs done well. (Which i rarely see, but that has been changing recently!)
2. That killer is some degree of blind or in general has a hard time seeing. Makes me think his other senses would be a lot better than his sightâespecially his vision worsens depending on what Stage heâs in.
3. That he and Chara did pinky wears and the pink swears were sacredânot capable of being broken or the other has the right to kill or torture the snitch however they want. (My HC.) (Alexa play secret)
4. That Chara gave Killer Asrielâs half of the heart locket/golden locket, the one that said âbffs forever.â Especially if Killer has come to associate it with control, and itâs the only way to gain control over a Killer who has been stuck in Stage 4.
5. That his SOUL is a record player of all his victims dying, fearful, hurt, painted, angry, hateful and frantic words. Or at least Killer thinks it isâas he constantly hears them in his head whenever he attempts to resist killing or hurting anyone in Stage 1, and the constant flood of internal degradation is overwhelming enough to trigger Stage 4. The last part seems be somewhat canon, but the record player isnât.
6. Cannibal Killer, started by me, holds a little place in my heart.
7. Cathearted and Angelkin Killer. Love it. Angelkin was @justanidiotartistâs idea.
8. Princess Killer. As in there is a timeline where he and Chara overthrew Asgoreâs rule and became the royals of the Underground for a time.
9. That a part of Killerâs conditioning and training was being taught royal etiquette by Chara. It was framed and hidden under the disguise of learning something new, and a gameâ a way to keep Killer entertained and avoid boredom, therefore keeping him stable while implementing further rules and structureâbut of course it had its typical violence and the use of Resets was often if Killer ever made a mistake or forgot a single thing.
He was taught to hold himself and carry himself as âsomething more,â above the others in the Underground, but never above Chara and not as real as anyone else.
His spine is always straight, trying to maintain a composed demeanor even when leaning into his silly behavior and extroverted mask. He eats his food in a very specific practiced manner without conscious thought, using his hands and utensils in a specific way.
He only eats when the âQueenâ (Chara, Nightmare) eats, and stops when they stopâregardless of if heâs finished or not. Sarcastic, overly exaggerated bowing and signs of deference towards NightmareââYour Majesty,â âYour Highness,â in a deadpan, sarcastic manner.
And this oneâs a bit more canon, but he copies and mimics Charaâs ways of speaking in a formal mannerâ such as how he says âgreetingsâ instead of âhelloâ or âhey.â Often more obvious when addressing those he views higher and above him, or when stressed.
Maintaining old habits of perfectionism and cleanliness despite appearing outwardly apathetic, as if he doesnât really know why he does it, he just does. His spaces are to be ordered and clean, all gear and weapons done in a certain way, and itâs probably more than once heâs corrected the others gang members postures and manners of eating or speaking.
One thing Chara never managed to make him stop doing was putting his hands on the table. He did that then and heâll keep doing it. (Somewhat canon. Bro always has his hands on the table.)
10. Killer has the same fascination with the number 9 that Chara does. My HC.
11. Killer with schizoid personality tendencies. My HC. (Bit more complicated than that.)
12. Killer is subconsciously drawn to heart imageryâespecially upside down hearts. He will often absentmindedly trace them on his bones/carve them, or draw on paper. It calms down his body. Especially after having failed some type of missionâboth when killing or refusing to kill.
13. He stims. Theyâre small and not noticeable if you arenât looking, easily dismissed as something else, but he stims. My HC. (I like to think his whole clasping hands over the soul/chest in prayer gesture is a happy stim and a nervous one. And also finger guns.)
14. He is a romantic. But only in his own head and fantasies.
15. Golden flower tea..yum.
16. He treats his weapons and animals better than he treats actual people or himself.
17. Stage 2 will blatantly ignore you if you try to call him Sans. (Somewhat canon.)
18. Stage 2 is mostly apathetic and indifferent but also distrustful of children. My Hc.
19. Chara and Killerâs relationship has been through just about any type of dynamic you can think of. Creator/creation, parent/child (both have played this role), teacher/mentee, enemies, friends, partners. Anything but equals.
20. He is actually very good at knife tricks. Will only fail when he wants to cut himself on purpose, or wants to make someone laugh.
21. Actually a pretty good caretaker, at least physically. Mentally and emotionally tending to a patient needs some work.
22. GNC fashionita.
23. Believes having no needs will make him invulnerable and free.
24. That a more humanized Killer would have long black hair he styles in many different ways. Also that he has a hooked nose and still doesnât look entirely human.
25. The idea that he gives himself something like tattoos that remind him of Color in his Good Ending. Gradient flaming heart rainbows like Jinxâs blue cloud tattoos. My HC.
26. Catlike behaviors. Yeah. Including being very petty and causing problems for no obvious reasons.
27. Various forms or presentations of pet or age regression depending on the Stage.
28. Hates feeling too exposed physically. âš body issues âš
29. Wouldâve thrown the comfort plushie Color gave to him for when heâs Stage 1 away if it the plushie didnât have an excellent texture. (Is the reasoning he gives.)
30. Acts of service. Just come to him instinctively. Very parentified eldest daughter coded I think.
#howlsasks#every-eve#utmv#sans au#sans aus#utmv headcanons#angelkin killer#killer sans#killer!sans#undertale au#killertale#undertale something new#buttercup duo#cw conditioning#killertale sans#kc chara#bad sans gang#bad sanses#nightmares gang#nightmareâs gang#undertalesomethingnew#something new sans#something new au#something new#nightmare sans#nightmare!sans#utmv hc#color sans#color!sans#color spectrum duo
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oh okay so now Iâm fully convinced that rhysâs mom was convinced/desperately hoping his future mate/partner would be Illyrian cause why else are all the clothes she made full of slits and backlessđ€šsounds to me like she was planning on the female needing a lot of freedom of movement with those big ass wings. and it was only after rhys could âsummon the Illyrian wings at willâ that she took him to Windhaven for thirty yearsđya know, the place high fae are notoriously unwelcomeđ€šđwho was it the bat boys were fucking around with if not the Illyrian femalesđ€š
#Iâm just yapping atp but it does kinda make sense if you squint and half ignore the ring in the weavers cottage#which /could/ generously be attributed to canonical Illyrian culture uplifting violence#so it would be in line for the Illyrian lady of night to expect her future Illyrian daughter in law to be just as apt at it#gold talks.tag#fixing something that probably really doesnât need to be fixed#sjm critical#acotar critical#anti rhysand#only because ik in my heart of hearts he doesnât view Illyrian females as real people#and so would never consider one a real possibility for partnership#rhysandâs mom
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Can anyone explain me what the ever-loving fuck is going on with the Qunari in Veilguard?
When I learned about Treviso occupation, I thought that was the result of Qunari officially being on the warpath. The Trespasser made it clear that the Qunari have been planning their invasion for quite a while - but chose to act covertly at first. Which makes perfect sense for Qunari, this is what they do. That would have also added some delicious moments for Taash and the Vashoth!Rook.
However, in the game we have not Qunari, but the Antaam (military). Which sounds stupid. The "it's not the nation, its it's soldiers doing it" excuse already sounds stupid if you ask me, but in the context of the Qunari lore it sounds even more stupid.
So, according to the accompanying media, Antaam...rebelled and acted without sanction. They have split into groups led by warlords who squabble between themselves and try to dig deep into the land they occupied. Which is bullshit.
The Antaam, meaning "body" in Qunlat, is the military of the Qunari led by the Arishok. Metaphorically, the Antaam are the eyes, ears, legs, arms and hands of the creature, everything that one needs to interact with the world, and so most Qunari encountered by Thedosians belong to the military
Antaam listen to the Arishok and Arishok alone. Qun is built on a system where everyone knows their place - and when they're out of place, they freak the fuck out, the massacre-the-family-because-my-tool-is-lost way. So, the probability of a large group of Qunari, an entire fucking army doing something without a command, and then digging a deeper hole for themselves by warlording is extremely low. Also, by all accounts, they're stop being seen by their kin as Qunari - they are Tal-Vashoth. Because they acted on their own volition, disobeyed the order, disobeyed the Arishok. This is not how the Qun works. No matter what they say, how they call themselves - they are Tal-Vashoth.
Like, there is a reason why Qunari are terrified of not fitting their mold - not only they have no idea of what to do when things don't go as planned, but also they are scared of losing their way and becoming permanently lost. The Iron Bull had that belief that he might lose his mind because he didn't know if he should trust himself without the guidance of Qun - him being a little more flexible due to his work as a spy as well as getting people he grew emotionally attached to helped with overcoming this barrier. But far from all Qunari are that lucky. Sten was so dejected after losing his sword that he let himself be caged - he didn't care about dying or anything anymore. He couldn't go home.
...Alright, where were we?
According to the wikipedia, Rasaan (the emissary of the Triumvirate)...took the control over Antaam? HOW? Qun is extremely rigid and allows no loopholes. For a change this massive there have to be some really, really good reasons - and I don't think the Antaam would have just accepted it. Without high enough approval, Sten only acknowledges Warden as the leader after they beat his ass in a duel.
Alright, let's say Rasaan gaslit the Antaam into believing she channels the way of the Qun and they ate it up. But why do we have warlords now?
Warlords with names, like Butcher? There are no names in the Qun. This is, once again, Tal-Vashoth behavior. But at the same time, they have access to qamek? What? How? Why? How does Par Vollen feel about their entire "body" fucking off? If they didn't sanction it, why aren't they stopping them???
It wouldn't be the first time for Bioware to twist their own lore and canon, but this one is legitimately migraine-inducing. Why not make a full-scale and sanctioned Qunari invasion, Qunari are like this! It's okay to make them the baddies, their ways are fucked up already and some positives don't make up for all the negatives! Don't just slap in a bunch of guys literally called "the army" and say "Nah, not all Qunari guys, these are just military acting on their own despite their lifestyle being all about following the system and doing your strictly established duties"
#dragon age: veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#datv spoilers#dav spoilers#dragon age#qunari#bioware critical
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Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Six
One | Two | Three | Four | Five
This fic was line-jumped! If you'd like to learn more about line jumping, please see this post
Anyway, thank you line-jumper for your patience, I know this was a little late orz but I hope you enjoy it!
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
---
âWhy do they look so weak?â
âDo you have more of these?â
âCan he really not breathe under water?â
âDoes he understand bubble patterns?â
âHeâs not the worst swimmer.â
âI could probably break his ribs with one tail swipe.â
âPlease donât break my mateâs ribs.â
Of all the words echoing in the water around him, those last few are the ones Eddie gets stuck on. He perks up as the curious hands of adolescent merfolk poking and prodding at him pause. From the determined expression on Steveâs face as he tugs Eddie closer, he definitely meant to say that.
âSeriously?â Robin asks, curling around Steveâs other side. Her hair floats across Eddieâs vision before settling, and bubbles rise from her fluttering gills. âYouâre already mated? How did that even work?â
She glances down as she asks, and Eddie follows her gaze to Steveâs tail. It looks normal to him. His wound has healed, leaving only a faint scar behind. If anything has changed, itâs that the inexplicable splashes of orange across his scales make sense in the water. They glimmer and shine like gold and silver coins in the wavering sunlight that manages to break through the surface. Eddie is hypnotized by them, and it takes a conscious effort for him to look away.
Steveâs flush tells Eddie something important has been alluded to, and heâs starting to get an idea of it. âRobin! Not in front of the guppies!â Steve tells her. She cackles in response, bubbles bursting from her gills as she curls around Steveâs right side and flicks his forehead.
âBut we already know about that stuff,â one of the guppies, Lucas, says. A few bubbles rise from his gills, too, and Eddie is starting to wonder if theyâre important when Robin and Steve pause to study them.Â
Another one, Dustin, nods and places his hands on Eddieâs shoulders. He pushes up to float above him, holding tight so he doesnât end up floating away. Somehow, this results in Dustinâs tail smacking against his back a few times, but at least it doesnât hurt. âYeah,â Dustin says, âYou taught us during the last cold tide trip. Remember? Joyce and Hopper got together and started talking about more guppies, so then Erica asked what they meant and you got all red like a lobster as you tried to explain it.â
âTeaching you about reproduction and discussingâŠrecreational enjoyment are very different things,â Steve says, his firm tone undermined by his flustered look.Â
Eddie taps Dustinâs hand, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in a curious expression when Dustin looks down.
âOh, do you wanna know?â he asks.
âNo, he doesnât,â Steve says at the same time Eddie nods. When Steve glares at him, Eddie grins, salty water rushing into his mouth. He doesnât mind too much, especially when he points at his throat and Steveâs glare immediately melts into fondness and concern. He leans in, kissing Eddie and pushing more air past his lips.Â
âWe are just teaching Eddie about reproduction,â El says when Steve pulls back. She pushes under Eddieâs arm, wrapping her tail around his leg to stay in place. With her there, Dustinâs tail is no longer hitting his back, and Eddie hesitates before patting her head.Â
Between her, Dustin on his shoulders, Steve holding him close, Robin practically wrapped around Steve, and the rest of the guppies surrounding them, heâs starting to realize how touchy merfolk are. Or maybe this is just Steve and Robin and their guppies. Heâll have to ask later.
âWhy are you making such a big deal when itâs boring?â Max asks, huffing as two lone bubbles rise from her gills. âTwo merfolk decide to have a kid. One fertilizes the other, they carry the egg for a while and birth it. After that, caretakers watch the egg until it hatches. Simple.â
Yeah. Eddie has so many questions. He canât ask any of them now, though. All he can do is nod along, forcing his expression to remain serious as he listens. Max seems to like the attention, her gills fluttering again and letting a stream of bubbles rise to the surface as she perks up.
âMan, it sounds boring when you say it like that,â Mike tells her, grinning as he turns to look at Eddie. âSo, anyway, dicks an--â
Robin laughs as she smacks her hand across Mikeâs mouth, using her other hand to ruffle his hair until itâs floating wildly in the water. âAll right, all right, letâs stop before dingus goes belly-up,â she says, pinching Mikeâs cheek when she pulls his hand away.
He huffs and sticks his tongue out at her. âEddie asked,â he says.
âEddie didnât ask anything. He canât talk, and he doesnât make bubbles,â El says.
âNo, like, he used his face.â
âOh.â
As they talk, Eddie tugs on Steveâs hand, pointing to his throat again. Instead of immediately kissing him, he glances up at the surface with a frown. Itâs not like Eddie was actually running out of air, so he doesnât tug on Steveâs hand again. âHow about we go up,â he says, looking at Robin. When she just looks confused, he adds, âYou could see Eddieâs ship.â
âReally?!â Dustin and Will ask, both of them looking at Eddie hopefully.
Eddie considers for a moment, figures the guppies can be entertained by his crew if they get too bored, and nods once.
âYes!â
----------
âThey have so much energy,â Eddie says, carefully setting Steve on the bed before collapsing into it next to him. He rubs his fingers together, feeling how wrinkly they are after spending most of the day in the ocean. They still havenât smoothed out despite being on the ship for an hour already.
Steve hums softly, reaching over and taking Eddieâs hand. He laces their fingers together, rests their hands on his stomach, and says, âThey liked you.â
âReally? I couldnât tell between Mike trying to drown me and Erica trying to bite me,â Eddie says, squeezing Steveâs hand.
The drowning attempt had happened when they surfaced. Mike had grabbed Eddieâs ankles and yanked him back under, grinning as Eddie yelped and swallowed half the ocean in the process. Somehow, Steve had managed to both kiss Eddie some air and smack Mike upside the head with his tail.
The biting had happened while trying to get all the guppies onto the ship. It involved nets and ropes and straining muscles, but theyâd managed. When Eddie was getting Erica untied from the ropes, sheâd leaned over and snapped at his shoulder. Robin saved him in time by yanking her back, refusing to hear her excuse about Eddie smelling like âreally fresh krillâ and her being hungry.
Things had been chaotic between getting the guppies and Robin settled, figuring out food, and keeping them entertained so they wouldnât destroy the ship out of boredom. Eddie had never been so relieved as when theyâd started nodding off in a giant tub they secured to the mast.
âThey were justâŠtesting you. A little. Itâs normal when caretakers introduce a mate,â Steve tells him.
âWhat, are they making sure Iâm sturdy?â
âMore that you can handle them if you join the pod,â Steve explains. âCaretakers donât leave their pods. If they mate with a merperson from another pod, that merperson just joins it. Guppies are overprotective and want to make sure mates deserve their caretakers.â
âThatâs kinda sweet,â Eddie says.
Steve nods in agreement, shifting around some until he can turn to face Eddie. The bottom of his tail curls around Eddieâs leg, a heavy weight that he finds reassuring. âHow do you feel?â he asks.
Eddie can hear the questions lying beneath. Did he like the guppies? Did they manage to scare him away? Is he going to end their courtship?
âTheyâre cool. I like them,â Eddie says, the words spilling out so he can reassure Steve. He feels something light and happy bubble in his chest at Steveâs smile. âI am wondering about something, though.â
âWhat?â
âHow, uh, how does all of thatâŠwork?â Eddie asks, his face burning as he gestures to Steveâs tail, focusing on the general area Robin had looked at before. Despite the embarrassment of asking, he canât help the heat that simmers through him at Steveâs knowing smile.
âAre you interested in theory or practice?â Steve asks.
âPractice. I am so, so, so interested in practice,â Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steveâs waist and tugging him closer. âBut I wouldnât mind a little theory so I know what Iâm doing.â
Steve laughs, pushing against Eddieâs chest lightly. When he lets go, Steve sits up, gesturing for Eddie to sit behind him. Once theyâre settled, Steve is nestled between Eddieâs legs and Eddie is resting his chin on Steveâs shoulders. âThereâs a slit,â Steve says, taking Eddieâs hand and placing his palm on a patch of scales just below his waist. âWhen a merperson is aroused, it opens to provide access.â
Eddie swallows, nodding as he feels the cool slide of Steveâs scales under his palm. He glances at Steve and moves his hand, brushing his fingers over the area until he can feel where the slit is. Itâs a slightly raised line, barely noticeable if he werenât looking for it.
âAnd, uh, how does it work? For two mermen, I mean,â Eddie says.
He feels more than hears Steve hum, the vibrations pulsing through him from where Steve is resting against his chest. âWell, it doesnât matter much,â Steve says, reaching up to tug on a loose strand of Eddieâs hair. âYou humans have a word for it, I think, but all merfolk have the ability to carry or fertilize. It really just depends.â
âOh,â Eddie says, biting the inside of his cheek as he presses his palm flat against Steveâs scales again. âSo, whichâŠI mean, what do youâŠyou know, prefer?â
Steve thinks for a moment, twirling Eddieâs hair around his finger. âAnything that feels good,â he finally says, tilting his head back to grin at Eddie. âHow about finding out what does?â
Not for the first time, Eddie thinks, perhaps, the merman in his arms will be the death of him. Itâs a good thing he doesnât mind one bit.
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Tag List! (tags are full, please follow #high seas steddie)
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@beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep,
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#steddie#steddie fic#high seas steddie#mermaid/pirate au#steve harrington#merman steve harrington#eddie munson#pirate eddie munson#robin buckley#the party stranger things#steddie fluff#my writing
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