#especially when that someone is luna

[desire-for-madness]

Sacrificial break-up plots can go f*cked, I am so sick of them.

What the plot wants you to see is this selfless sacrifice of forfeiting your happiness for the sake of your beloveds happiness, but all I can see is misery, ESPECIALLY towards your beloved. You'll be in some so self-satisfying heroism world of "I gave up my loved one for his own happiness", but your beloved? They'll be thinking they weren't enough. Often ex-lovers are involved, so they'll believe they are easily replaceable. They weren't worth fighting for. They weren't worth communicating to, to find a middle ground. They will be constantly living in the worst thoughts of themselves, because you decided to give up. All their self-esteem issues will be confirmed. There is nothing more hurtful than that.

*I ran out of tags but the drama list is endless*

[chilei-the-hotsauce]

a lil 饮月 for the hoyo gods so i can get him n his lightcone 🙏

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Bitches be fighting (it’s the head children 😘☺️)

[yvvxs]

Quality Time...

↪ ft. argenti. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.

Cleaning Argenti's ship with him, getting the dust out of the finer details alongside him. It would be a hassle usually, but it was much better when he was with you. You who were like an Emanator of Beauty to him, he could never get sick of you, or your presence.

Sitting beside Aventurine in the casino as he wins his 54th game of Blackjack that night. His arm wrapped around your waist, smiling and having fun together as you watch the endless riches flow into his bank account.

Going on a late night stroll with Blade. The city was busy and bustling, but that wasn't going to bother either of you. Just the two of you, no script to follow. No guards to seize him, he's in disguise anyways. No one will notice him through his... Sunglasses and mask. It'll work.. Neither are his companions or mara there to annoy him. Not now, as you enjoy each others' presence.

Running through the ships of the IPC with Boothill. The men shooting at the both of you. He has your back, so he won't let you get injured by some bullets. He even has time to taunt them with some famous dance moves as the two of you evade their attacks.

Digging through trash cans together with Caelus. He could care less about the crowds of people watching this. He was enjoying it, giving you little small trinkets he thinks you'd like. A toy that someone threw away, a bouquet from a rejected man.. A golden trash bag? Well, it's the thought that counts, right? It was cute just watching him dig through the bins to find something for you.

Staying up and updating the data bank with Dan Heng. The faint sound of machinery and typing the only sounds in the room. Other than the sound of pen on paper from when he writes something down. Alternatively, laying beside Imbibitor Lunae in his supposed bed. But it was so much comfier, especially when you were wrapped in the arms, and tail, of your boyfriend.

Reading a book with Dr. Ratio at the local library. A small treat for the both of you as he had just finished his lecture. Refreshing his own mind with both the intelligent writings, and your presence. At least he didn't have to deal with any idiots at the moment.

Learning to brew up some nice drinks with Gallagher. He shares his favorite brew with you, and you share your own concoction with him. Clinking your glasses together in a toast, drinking one anothers' mix of flavors.

Adopting some new plants with Gepard. Trying to get a nice flower to take care of together. Placing it in a nice flowerbed with some ferilizer, and watering them thoroughly. You'll have to teach him some tips and tricks to gardening. Or maybe you're learning alongside him too. Either way, it'll be fun taking care of a little plant baby together, don't you think?

Napping with General Jing Yuan at work. Sneakily giving him an excuse to slack off for a bit. They wouldn't dare disturb your slumber, would they? How cruel of them if they tried. Inhaling your scent as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. Drifting further into sleep in the comfort of your arms.

Watching Luka as he trains for his next match at the Fight Club. A moment just for the two of you to spend together. You motivating him to keep going and get stronger. To win even more battles. He couldn't do it without you.

Walking around the different stalls the Luofu offered with Luocha. Buying a few things from some merchants just for you. Away from any prying eyes, in a world made for just the two of you.

Carrying a few supplies for Natasha's clinic with Sampo. Being able to help the Underworld with him being an enjoyable task. Especially with him, who wouldn't be entertained by his presence? You knew you definitely were.

Having afternoon tea with Sunday. Away from the responsibilities of being the head of the Oak Family. Just a small quiet moment between the you and the halovian. Some sugar cookies going along with the drinks. He can't help but feel much better with you.

Sitting in the Astral Express carriage with Welt. Watching the stars fly by, the meteors go past the windows. Maybe looking up at the light shaped like a whale, reaching out for it while you lay your head on his lap. It was nice spending mundane moments with him, alongside the more fun and action-filed ones.

↪ I think having some quality time with them is nice :)

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝒜𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑀 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸ ﹙ 이희승 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ established relationship ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which your boyfriend gets into a fight .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1589 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ violence ៸ mentions of blood & injuries ៸ badboy trope!! ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 —happy heeseung dayyyy!! no amount of words can explain how much i love him!! the loml <33 (ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

LEE HEESEUNG WASN’T THE KIND OF BOYFRIEND ANYONE HAD EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE.

everyone in school knew his reputation—he was the typical bad boy, sharp edges and icy stares, with a cigarette often hanging loosely from his lips and tattoos decorating his forearms.

people moved out of his way when he walked down the hall, not wanting to catch his eye.

he was feared, whispered about, and avoided.

but you? you on the other hand were the complete opposite—shy, quiet, and sweet.

it was no secret that you were heeseung’s girlfriend, and because of that, no one dared to mess with you.

until today, unfortunately.

it was just an average day, a regular lunch break, or at least it had started that way.

you were sitting at your usual table with a couple of friends, eating and listening to the chatter around you.

heeseung wasn’t with you—he rarely was during lunch.

he liked to spend that time outside, usually skipping or hanging with his own friends, giving you space but always watching from a distance. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

you knew he was never far—you always felt safe, knowing he was around.

but today, something felt very off.

a new student had recently transferred to your school—minho, a cocky, obnoxious guy who had quickly earned a reputation for being a jerk.

he had a habit of making everyone around him uncomfortable, especially girls—and today, he had his eyes set on you.

you were sitting quietly, your head down as you picked at your food, when you noticed him walking toward your table.

your stomach twisted, a sinking feeling settling in as he slid into the seat beside you without asking.

you immediately tensed, your fingers tightening around your fork.

“hey, you’re that quiet girl, right?” minho’s voice was bold, dripping with arrogance as he leaned in too close, invading your personal space.

“lee heeseung’s girl, right? i don’t see what he sees in you.”

your heart sped up, panic rising in your chest as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“uh, i’m—” you stammered, trying to inch away from him, but he only moved closer, his knee bumping against yours.

“i don’t get it,” minho continued, completely ignoring the way you were clearly uncomfortable.

“you’re way too shy, too… delicate for someone like him. maybe you need someone who knows how to treat you better.”

your friend, sitting across from you, shot minho a warning glare. “she’s not interested asshole. back off.”

but minho didn’t seem to care—he laughed, the sound grating on your nerves.

“why don’t you let her speak for herself, huh?” he turned his gaze back to you, his eyes dark with something that made your skin crawl.

“what do you say, sweetheart? how about you ditch that psycho boyfriend of yours and hang out with a real man?”

your hands started to shake, your throat tightening as you tried to find your voice. “please just leave… i’m not—”

before you could finish, minho leaned in even closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered something vile, something so inappropriate that your entire body went rigid with shock.

and that’s when you heard it—footsteps—heavy, deliberate footsteps approaching fast.

you didn’t even have time to turn before you saw heeseung, his expression dark and dangerous as he grabbed minho by the collar and pulled him out of his seat.

the entire cafeteria seemed to go silent.

everyone knew heeseung had a temper, but they’d rarely seen him like this.

“say that again,” heeseung growled, his voice low and menacing as he lifted minho off the ground, his fist clenched tightly around the front of minho’s shirt. “i dare you.”

minho’s painted on act faded instantly.

his cocky smirk disappeared as he realized just how serious heeseung was, but instead of backing down, he chucked.

“what’s the matter, heeseung? can’t handle someone else talking to your girl? she doesn’t seem to mind—”

that was all it took.

before you could even process what was happening, heeseung’s fist connected with minho’s face.

the sound of the punch echoed through the cafeteria, and you gasped, your heart leaping into your throat.

heeseung hit him again, and again, and again, his knuckles splitting open from the force of the impact.

minho didn’t even have time to fight back—he was already dazed, blood trickling from his nose and mouth as heeseung knocked him to the ground.

“heeseung, stop!” you cried out, panic rising in your chest as you watched the scene unfold in desperation.

but he didn’t hear you—he was lost in his anger, his eyes dark and wild as he prepared to throw another punch.

you scrambled to your feet, rushing toward him, your hands shaking as you reached out and grabbed his arm.

“please, heeseung, stop! he’s done— see!” your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.

for a moment, heeseung didn’t move, his fist still clenched, ready to strike again.

but then you did the only thing you could think of—you wrapped your arms around him from behind, pulling him into a desperate back hug.

“heeseung, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears streamed down your cheeks. “stop. it’s over. please.”

something shifted in him then—you could feel it.

the tension in his muscles slowly began to release, his clenched fist relaxing as your words broke through the haze of his anger.

he took a deep, shuddering breath, his body still shaking as he dropped his arm to his side.

you didn’t let go, your face buried against his back as you tried to calm your own racing heart.

heeseung turned slightly, his breath ragged as he finally looked down at minho—almost unconscious and a bloodied broken nose on the ground.

a flicker of regret crossed his face, but it was quickly masked by his usual hardened expression.

he turned toward you then, his eyes softening as he saw your tear-streaked face.

without saying a word, he took your hand and led you out of the cafeteria filled with whispers and cameras pointed at you, his grip firm but gentle as he guided you to his car in the parking lot.

the moment you were both inside, he reached over and pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you cried against his chest.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you.”

you shook your head, still trembling as you clung to him. “i was just so scared… i thought you wouldn’t stop.”

heeseung sighed, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as he held you close.

“i know, baby. i get like that sometimes… when i’m angry, i just… i lose control.”

his voice was thick with emotion, his usual care free aura gone as he spoke to you softly, like he was afraid of breaking you.

“but i’ll get help, okay? i don’t want to be like that around you. i promise i’ll do better.”

you pulled back slightly, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand as you looked up at him.

“i just don’t want you to hurt yourself… or anyone else. i’m grateful you stood up for me, but… you can’t let yourself get lost in your anger like that.”

heeseung nodded, his eyes full of guilt as he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “i know, and i’ll try. for you.”

you finally let out a small, shaky laugh, and heeseung smiled softly, relief washing over him as he heard the sound.

“there’s my pretty girl,” he said, his voice warm as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

his hands were still shaking slightly as he cupped your face, but the worst of the storm had passed.

you glanced down at his knuckles then, your heart sinking as you saw the cuts and bruises painting his skin. “heeseung… your hands.”

without thinking, you gently took one of his hands in yours, lifting it to your lips and pressing soft kisses to the torn skin.

he watched you with a mix of awe and affection, his chest tightening at the sight of you caring for him so sweetly.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes as you kissed the back of his hand again. “but thank you.”

heeseung smiled, his expression softening as he leaned down to kiss you—slow and softly, his lips moving gently against yours.

when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “i’d do anything for you.”

you smiled back at him, the tension in your chest finally easing as you realized that despite everything, he wasn’t the monster everyone thought he was.

he was just… heeseung—rough around the edges, for sure not perfect, but always protective, always caring when it came to you.

“just… try not to knock anyone out next time, okay?” you teased lightly, the corners of your mouth lifting into a small smile.

heeseung chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“i’ll do my best, but no promises,” he said, his tone playful now. “especially if some asshole tries to mess with my girl.”

you rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself “you’re impossible, lee heeseung.”

“and you love me for it.”

you couldn’t argue with that.

© won4kiss 2024

៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

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[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you cuddling into his side randomly one day and then falling asleep…

Dan Heng/Imbibitor Lunae: stiff as a fucking bored and holding his breath as if that was going to wake you up.

He acts as though every little sound has been amplified to the max and will constantly shift his eyes towards you, almost as though he were expecting any sort of signs of disturbance within your once peaceful slumber.

It was so bad he has to look away from you to hide his burning face because he figured out that he might actually begin to enjoy this, enjoy the idea of you actively choosing him to sleep against. God his heart was going apeshit at the dies that you’d might like his company enough to be in a state of vulnerability with him.

His dragon noddle self (Imbibitor Lunae) is fucking delirious with the idea of his ‘mate’ sleeping against him. So much so that if his tail were visible now, it’d be wagging at a hundred miles an hour to the point it’s just a blur.

He secretly hates how it betrays his innermost thoughts to anyone nearby.

Blade: thinks there’s something genuinely wrong with you if you were willing to fall asleep next to him of all people.

Yet in the same breath he acts as your personal guard dog as you slept, keeping people from coming too close for comfort and or making loud, obnoxious noise with just a smile glare thrown their way.

He gets called soft but he honestly doesn’t give a flying fuck.

He acts like he wants to shove you away from him but the moment someone suggests moving you upon seeing how much he apparently ‘hates’ it, and all of a sudden Blade is holding you further again him and telling the person to fuck off under his breath.

He’s so hypocritical but no one dares say that to his face, especially not when he’s holding you against him protectively and glaring at anyone or anything that breathed or moved wrong. Yet when you’re awake, he’ll act like he did no such thing and go about his day like normal.

Argenti: takes this as an opportunity to gaze upon your beauty up close.

In his opinion you didn’t need beauty sleep because you were already as radiant as a freshly blossomed flower, but if you say you need it then who was he -your chivalrous knight- to argue against it.

Some people may think it’s weird that he’s looking at you so intently as you slept but Argenti always had a response at the ready, for he’d tell them that they’ve just never witnessed a beauty in it’s most natural form, to the point that it makes you utterly breathless and unable to look away.

He traces your every feature with his eyes and finds himself adding more onto the list of reasons of why he finds you so appealing, and in more ways than one.

Eye bags? Beautiful.

Stretch marks? Stunning.

Acne/acne scaring? Heavens have blessed you with your own set of unique constellations within your skin.

Argenti is addicted to looking at you while you are awake and it’s no different when you’re asleep either. He just loves that you trusted him enough to witness you like this and he’ll never take advantage of that. Ever.

Welt Yang: he takes care of you as you sleep soundly against his side.

He makes sure you are comfortable and undisturbed as you slept against his side, for seeing you look so at peace and free from all of your daily stresses only proved to warm his already soft heart.

He makes sure march 7th isn’t nearby, as much as he cares for that bubble gum pink haired girl like she was his own child, she was notoriously well known for her easily excitable nature; which wasn’t something you’d need when catching up on much needed sleep.

He’s already draping a blanket over you as we speak and shifting your position to a more comfortable one so that you wouldn’t wake up with a crick in your neck and irritability.

He’ll probably either carry you to bed or join you in your nap by lying himself down on the couch and pulling you up to his chest and holding you there.

It’s such a cute moment and march has photo proof that it happened. Multiple of them.

However papa Welt has a few questions in regard to your sleeping schedule if you were easily able to sleep against his side without issue. He loves you dearly but please for the love of god take better care of yourself or he fucking will.

This is a threat but then again you’d probably wouldn’t mind it if Welt took care of you….honestly same.

[phoenix-fell]

As someone who is both an older sister and raised their younger sibling, let me tell you why this scene was so good

It would be so easy to misinterpret Yang’s protectiveness over Blake here, but that’s not what’s happening. We’ve always seen Ruby as happy-go-lucky, follow-your-heart and do-the-right-thing, and it’s easy to forget that Yang raised Ruby, and the implied subtext there is that it *wasn’t* always sunshine and rainbows.

Yes, Yang is protective over her newfound relationship. Yes, she’ll maybe feel a little wounded that her sister is lashing out. But what we see here is Yang shifting ever so subtly into mother-mode. Yang knows this isn’t about Blake, or her and Blake’s relationship, she’s stepping in front of Blake to protect her before Ruby can say or do something she regrets. In essence, protecting both of them and trying to control the situation from escalating. Yang is stepping in front because she can take it, she’s GIVING her someone to yell at, because god knows she’s probably had to, at some point, take some lip in the past while the others have only ever known her as a strong, positive leader. She doesn’t shout at Ruby, she’s calm, lets her get it out and just looks sternly with a simple “Hey!” as in, ‘hey, that’s enough now’. 

Yang has expressed concern, and is concerned, but this is 100% Yang shifting into parent mode. This is brilliant because earlier in the episode and even last episode we’ve seen examples of Yang’s ‘concerned big sister’ side which is soft and supportive. There’s no malice in Yang’s expression, and it’s difficult to catch it because we haven’t had the best representations of ‘good mothers’ in the show, especially not ones that have had to chastise their kids at some point, but you can bet your ass that this is Yang’s parental mode stepping in to bring calm and stability to a chaotic situation. And that doesn’t always present as ‘let’s hug this out’, sometimes it’s stern, tough love and recognising that the younger one isn’t in the space to receive comfort, so the best you can do for them is diffuse the situation and be an authoritative voice of reason because she recognises her sister’s fragile mental state.

This is without going into how amazing Ruby’s portrayal was. Going after your sister’s new relationship is RAW, and personal, but it’s also what siblings do - they lash out sometimes when they’re under stress. The way Ruby says ‘we’re sOoOo happy for you by the way good for you’ - just SMACKS of younger sibling cutting loose and saying something they don’t mean, which makes Yang’s response all the more realistic for me. She recognises the tone, the almost-petulance and steps in before it can go any further.

It’s so subtle, but it SPOKE to me so massive kudos to Miles Luna and the animators for this. And god bless the clowns that use it as some sort of Anti-Bees discourse - the nuance is entirely lost on you.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:09 pm]

(cw: parents!au)

Every parent knew what silence meant. Silence meant some huge mess was being made, someone was hiding, being mischievous, general mayhem being had. This was especially true in your home with your daughter and 3 cats. It was never this quiet in your house with the four—five troublemakers in your house. It couldn’t be the main troublemaker because he was sitting right next to you, fully invested in a a reality tv show.

“Jaemin, listen,” You said quietly while you muted the tv.

He looked at you quizzically, “I don’t hear anything… what could she be doing now?”

“It’s not her nap time yet, I have a very bad feeling about this,” you replied nervously.

Your daughter had a sweet face, she was nice and friendly in public. She always waved at strangers with a huge smile on her face. She knew to stay by your side when she wasn’t sitting in a shopping cart. She very rarely threw tantrums, a perfect little angel. People had even told you so.

In the comfort of your home on the other hand, she was hyperactive and loud. She wreaked havoc on the daily. And the cats were either right her side or far, far away from her. There was no in between. When the cats decided she was being too much your daughter would try to climb their scratching posts to reach them or pull on their tails. The poor animals. When they decided to help her the house was loud, something got destroyed, scratched, or simply broken.

The last time the 4 of them had joined forces you needed to buy a new bookshelf for the living room with all new frames for the pictures that filled up some empty spaces on the shelves.

“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes,” Jaemin offered. You rolled your eyes but complied. Softly hitting your fist against the palm of your hand. One paper and one rock, you lost.

“Wish me luck please, and have your credit card ready to shop. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna be sick,” you muttered, standing from the couch and walking toward your daughter’s room, but not without pouting and sending pleasing looks to your husband.

You tiptoed quietly to her open door and took a peek inside. Oh good, she was playing with her baby dolls. Wait, since when were they covered in fur?

You ran back to the living room whisper yelling, “Honey, you have to come see what your daughter is doing!”

Jaemin tilted his head back and shut his eyes, “why is she only my daughter when she’s being naughty?”

“It’s not even that bad, no new furniture. Just come see!” You tugged on his arm until he was up and quietly sneaking behind you.

You both peeked into the open door and watched as your daughter swaddled up one of the cats, Luke. And he liked it! He was purring and nuzzling into your daughters small and unusually gentle hands. “Ok baby! It’s time for a nap!” She told the cat before placing him in her toy bassinet. The poor doll who it belonged to could be seen face down under her bed.

“And for the other baby, it’s lunch! Time for your bottle,” she told Luna, picking up the cat and holding her like a newborn while holding a toy bottle to the cat’s mouth. And poor Lucy was sitting on a doll bed with a bonnet tied below her chin, but she looked unbothered.

“I think the cats… like it?” Jaemin whispered in confusion.

You looked at him, “weirdly enough, I think they do too.”

You and Jaemin continued to watch the four of them play and interact. They were all calm and playing happily, until, she turned and caught sight of you.

She bounded over to you and jumped into your arms, knocking the wind out of you.

“I’m practicing!” She smiled brightly.

“What are you practicing for, baby?” You asked her, moving some hair out of her face.

“Daddy said he’s going to get me a baby brother! So I have to practice being a good big sister!” She smiled, stating it like it was obvious.

Your fave dropped, looking at Jaemin with a raised eyebrow, “did your dad say that? That’s news to me. What else did he tell you, baby?”

Jaemin’s face dropped and your daughter began spilling all their secrets. How he always bought her candy before ballet, they sometimes snuck some ice cream together after you were asleep, Jaemin put sugar in her cereal, and how he promised her new toys if she didn’t mention anything about a new sibling. “Do I still get my toys daddy?”

“Uh! No! She would not be getting any new toys!”Jaemin yelled in his mind.

“You can ask daddy later, he’s about to be in very big trouble.”

[klausysworld]

A prompt I had for a while: reader is a single widowed mother. Klaus and her become close but she’s reluctant as she’s scared to start anything with Klaus as she’s worried her daughter may get attached. Klaus is adamant he loves reader and her daughter.

Just fluff and stuff!

Bonus: smut? And even a lil addition to the family that’s a mix of Klaus and reader 👶

Life goes on

I had only dated a couple of guys since losing my husband.

It had taken a while to allow myself to feel okay with being someone else, especially because of Luna; my daughter. She's only young, barely 6 and I didn't want her to think I was replacing her father, not that she really remembers him much now. Years had passed now and sometimes she would ask where her daddy was and why he couldn't visit.

I had only let her meet one other guy before and she was more heartbroken than I was when it didn't work out so I knew I needed to keep her away from that aspect of my life, especially while she was so young.

But that didn't mean that I didn't date.

It wasn't a frequent thing, just when I found someone I really liked and well, I really liked Nik.

We met at Luna's school actually. He also has a daughter who's a few years older and we had just dropped them off. I accidentally caught his eye when I took a glance round the playground and we smiled at each other politely.

He was a sight for sore eyes: good hair, nice eyes, charming smile, lean body and a nice sense of fashion. An annoying sense of guilt always filled me when I found another man attractive so I looked away and headed to work.

Still though, I couldn't help look for him and his smile every morning when I dropped Luna off and every afternoon when I picked her back up. He would always be looking back at me as his own daughter would run on over to him and he would take her backpack from her and give me a look as if to say "Kids, am I right?" and I would always smile a little wider and gesture to my own who would always be pulling on my sleeve telling me she wanted to go home or to a friends house.

It made me jump a little the first time he actually spoke to me, he had appeared behind me as though out of thin air and quickly apologised when I flinched away at the sound of his voice and placed my hand over my chest.

He chuckled as he spoke, "Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you"

His voice had a beautiful accent that made my cheeks blush pink and my attention to focus on him completely.

"That's okay, I just wasn't paying attention" I dismissed and he smiled

"I'm Nik" he introduced and I felt my heart flutter a little bit in a way that I knew I would feel bad about later.

"Y/n" I whispered and he hummed as he took my hand and kissed that back of it, I couldn't help but laugh at the outdated gesture and he rolled his eyes playfully.

I glanced over to the doors where I was waiting for Luna to come out briefly before turning back to him. He had a curious sort of look in his eye that made me ask if something was wrong but he shook his head.

"I just don't understand why you're single" he murmured and I felt my eyes go to the floor as I hesitated because there was no right way to every tell somebody that my husband had died and since then my life was a mess. So I turned away from him and tried to swallow the memory of my husbands death away but then I felt his Nik's on my arm and the gentle act reminded me of him. "I don't mean to offend you" he told me, his tone soft and it made me feel worse.

"You didn't, I'm sorry my daughters here now so I have to go" I whispered, walking forward to meet Luna as she already had her hand outstretched to hold onto mine.

I tried not to look at him the next day.

Dating was complicated enough, dating a man who's child went to the same school as mine was too much.

However, for better or worse, no matter how much I tried to ignore him, our eyes always seemed to meet and as the days passed we ended up stood closer and closer together. Once we were so close, it felt rude to ignore him so we would talk. Not really about anything important or deep, mostly parent things and what sorts of things the girls were up to. It was a conversation topic that was easy and didn't open up too many personal questions.

I started to like him, more than I wanted to. But so did other moms and teachers for that matter even though most of them were married. Woman were cruel sometimes, often I wondered if they just never evolved from highschool.

For whatever reason, they didn't like that I was a single mother, despite it not being my fault or choice. Luna and I had moved here after my husband died but I only had to tell one person for the whole town to know that I was widowed and struggling.

Klaus wasn't aware for a while, not until one of the other moms filled him in.

I had gotten to school a little late because work and ran over, I was never late but unfortunately I had been that day but I rang the school to let them know even though it was only a few minutes so that Luna wasn't stood waiting.

When I got there Luna was running toward me crying and I quickly lifted her up asking what was wrong.

"They're talking about Daddy" she whimpered and I quickly looked over. Two woman were talking to eachother, loudly. Nik was looking right at me and I felt my face heating up as the moms spoke about how felt for someone like me and they wondered how I managed to even get out of bed each morning let alone flirt with other men after losing my husband.

I kissed Luna's head gently and whispered for her to ignore it before walking briskly to my car and strapping her in. I wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and went round to my side of the car.

Fast paced footsteps approached me before I heard his voice. "Y/n, love, are you alright?" he asked, his hand going to my upper back in an act of comfort and it made my eyes water again.

"I'm fine" I whispered but it came out as weak and unconvincing as I felt.

I didn't have it in me to push myself away from him when he pulled me into a hug, his hand stroked the back of my hair and I cried into his shoulder. I knew Luna could see me hugging a man from her carseat and it made me cry harder at the thought.

"It's alright" he mumbled while his arms seemed to circle me tighter. I tried to apologise but he shushed my sorrys away and helped wipe my tears away. I glanced over to where his daughter, Hope, was stood. She gave me a sympathetic smile and waved a little, Klaus handed Hope the keys to his car and asked he to wait for a moment before turning back to me. "Hope lost her mother due to childbirth" he told me and I softened all that more.

"I'd say I'm sorry but... I know that's not really something you want to hear again" I whispered and he smiled a little.

"You'd be correct" he muttered and I glanced back at Luna who held a worried but curious expression. I looked back at him and nodded before letting go of me and opening my car door for me. I sniffed and thanked him before getting into my seat and watching him walk over to his own car before driving home.

Luna asked who he was and I told her he was just another dad from school, but I knew she wasn't as clueless as she acted.

Thankfully it was a Friday so I didn't have to see Nik for a couple of days, or any of the moms. Just Luna and I.

Once Monday came back around I didn't feel like facing the stuck up bitches of the community so watched Luna go in from my car and waved to her teacher at the door so they knew how Luna got there. I went to get back into my car when Nik's voice called out for me and captured my attention once more.

"I do hope you aren't avoiding me, love" he called as he grew nearer and I quickly shook my head.

"No, not you" I replied and his brows pulled together briefly before a look of realisation and sympathy washed over his face.

"They don't know what they're saying. Nobody knows how it feels until they've gone through it, not that I want any of them to but it would help a little if they understood at least a fraction of the pain" he expressed and I couldn't have worded it better myself.

"I just don't know how people can be so unempathetic" I mumbled and he nodded solemnly.

"The world" he muttered "is a cruel place. It always has been." somehow he sounded as if he truly knew that and I found myself questioning it.

"Will it always be?" I whispered and he shook his head.

"Not for everyone. Not for you, I won't allow it." he told me, honesty shining in his eyes that made a blush spread to my ears and a smile to creep across my face.

"I won't hold you to it" I breathed but he shook his head and took my hand, kissing the back of it making my eyes roll.

"I don't tend to break promises" he uttered before squeezing my hand and letting me go to work for the day.

Later we both got to school early to see the other though neither of us outwardly confirmed it, we both knew. That was when he asked if I was ever free to go out for lunch or dinner or anything. I was reluctant and he could see that,

"It doesn't have to be a date" he offered, "just friends getting something to eat or drink or going on a walk..."

After a moment I agreed and told him that one of my neighbours would be happy to babysit Luna for a couple hours after work or on the weekend. The elderly lady next door was lovely and welcoming, she gave sympathy immediately and loved Luna from day one and had watched over her a couple times throughout the last couple years.

We just went and got some coffee and went for a walk to begin with. It was nice to ease into it. The last guy I went out with expected way too much on the first date while Nik kissed my cheek and knew that was enough for that day. Somehow he seemed to know everything, when to make a move and when to slow down. He could read me like a book and under different circumstanced that would scare me but I didn't feel afraid with him.

So I started to see him more frequently, more romantically.

He would take me to fancy restaurants and refuse to let me even see the check which to begin with was cute but started to make me feel guilty which he picked up on and explained that he didn't want me to ever think about money when I was with him. He said that he had more than he knew what to do with and spoiling me made him happy. I wasn't completely settled with this answer but I accepted it a bit.

We ended up making it into a little game. We would see which one of us could grab the check the fastest, he almost always won but every now and then I would manage to snatch it up, he would be trying to get it off of me but I would threaten to scream so he had to stop tickling. On occasion, if he had to go to the bathroom, I would manage to pay the bill before he was able to intervene and he would strop over it and end up buying me something worth much more that the date.

Everything about it was heavenly, accept for the comments and opinions of others. However it seemed that people only seemed to step out of line once before they never spoke ill of me again, it was strange but somehow I knew that Klaus had something to do with it.

This was confirmed when he dropped be home and my neighbour: Dorothy, or Dot was stood outside with a hard expression on her face as she held a sleeping Luna. I approached with a confused frown.

"What's wrong?" I asked worried and her eyes snapped to mine.

"That's the man you're seeing?" she asked, her tone judgemental and I didn't understand the switch up. I nodded, confused and she tightened her hold on Luna making my eyes narrow in concern. "You stop talking to that man right now. He is no good and never will be. A monster is that man and I will not allow him to be in Luna's life nor yours." she argued and I frowned.

"Dot- what on earth are you on about?" I asked, alarmed.

"He is the devil reincarnated. You stay away." she warned as she handed me Luna. "You don't understand now but you will if you stay near him. He'll ruin whatever good you have."

I didn't know what she was on about, or why or how she knew Nik but Dorothy was not a liar and she was not a hateful person so to see her voice such a harsh opinion spoke volumes.

I was a little more skeptical around Nik, but I also didn't really know what I was looking for. He just seemed upset and stressed when I turned down the third date in a row.

It made me feel awful so I went to Dot and started to demand answers.

Now, I'll be honest, I thought she was losing it when she started talking about vampires and werewolves and witches. But when I tried to leave the door slammed shut without her touching it and the fireplace flames roared.

"You have to listen to me dear, and you have to really hear me to be able to understand" she whispered, leading me back to the sitting room where she went into depth regarding her own witch heritage and then the originals and Nik or rather Niklaus.

Luna knew something was wrong when I let her have a couple days off school and she asked if it was because of Nik. She wasn't naive and she knew that I liked him more than others.

Eventually she asked to go back to school, being at home for so many days was boring so I took her in.

There was no way of avoiding Niklaus when he was waiting beside my car with a look of hurt throughout him. I tried to ignore him and just open the door but his hand touched my arm and I pulled away quickly. He caged me against the car and I could feel fear consuming me.

"Y/n" he murmured, his tone so soft that it confused me again. "Love, if I've done something to upset to upset you or scare you..." He trailed, his hands cupping both sides of my face and I couldn't help but enjoy the warmth he always had. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't know how to get out of the situation I was in and it was making me panic further.

"I need to go to work" I whispered quietly, weakly.

"I know..." he mumbled, "but...I need you and... you won't even look at me"

"You don't need me Nik" I told him, "It was only a few dates-"

"It's not" he argued

"We haven't slept together so it's not a big deal-"

"That's a lie and you know it" he whispered, exasperated.

I glanced up at him, and then I wasn't able to look away. He was right, it was a much bigger deal than I wanted to admit. We had connected on a much more emotional level than anyone I had before, other than my husband those years ago.

"We can't be together" I whispered and his frown deepened

"Did I kiss you too soon? I never meant to rush you" he muttered, concern displayed across his face

"It's not that-"

"Then what-"

"You're a vampire!" I whisper-yelled and his mouth snapped shut. "Or a hybrid or something...I don't...I can't..."

He stayed silent and stepped back, allowing me to open my car door and get in. I didn't hesitate in driving away.

I didn't see him when I picked up Luna however I did receive a message later that evening.

Hello, my love I do hope you'll one day forgive me for keeping my true identity a secret. I never meant to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable, however I suppose that's why I didn't tell you. I like you very much, more than I have liked someone in many years and I love that you're such a lovely mother. I've thoroughly enjoyed our dates and I had hoped that we would progress our relationship however I understand that you are afraid for yourself and for Luna. Know that I would never, ever harm your daughter. I have one of my own and I know what it's like to love and worry for a child. I would never hurt either of you. Still, I know you will probably feel alarmed by my presence so I'll leave you be is that's would you want, all I ask is that you please don't tell others of my species as it puts Hope's life endanger and all I want is for her and you to be safe. I don't expect a reply but know that I will always have a space for you in my heart.

I could feel my heart aching as I read down to the bottom line.

I didn't see him anywhere for the next too weeks and I found myself missing him terribly.

Eventually I couldn't take it. I found that I didn't see him as anything other than a man. Not a monster or a threat. Just someone I cared for deeply and knowing that I had hurt him made me feel terribly guilty.

So I ended up messaging for him to meet me outside a little cafe. I had already ordered and paid for our drinks and was sat at a table waiting for him to arrive anxiously.

He got there exactly on time like always and sat opposite me with a singular flower for in his hand which he held out for me and I accepted with a small smile.

"Thank you" I whispered and his lips curled up as his hand moved to hold my hand and I let him, holding his back.

We spoke for a while, discussed who he was and how he got here, his intentions and any of my other questions before talking about our relationship again. I told him about my neighbour and he said he knew her last name and that decades ago her family had been involved with his brother, Kol, which resulted in a rather brutal and tragic even.

He admitted to being apart of the massacre and didn't attempt to justify his actions but just apologised for them and offered to formally apologise to Dorothy.

So, I brought him to her home and she instantly attacked him. It was only when I got in the way and she accidentally hurt me instead that she stopped. I was holding onto my head and crying while Klaus held me to his chest and tried to have me drink his blood which I now knew would heal me but the idea of it made me gag. Eventually I let the metallic taste fill my mouth and swallowed it down, the pain went away in a matter of seconds and Dot was hysterically sorry.

Klaus wouldn't let her near me and instead lifted me up and took me home. Dot begged me not to invite him in but I did so anyway.

He sat me down on the couch and kept asking if I was still hurt no matter how many times I told him that I was okay. He seemed more sorry than Dorothy and wouldn't stop checking me over.

It made me see just how much he cared and how honest he was being when he said he didn't want any harm to come to me. I could also see him resisting the urge to go back over to Dot after her causing me pain.

Eventually we had to go get Hope and Luna. No other parents so much as glanced our way when we both arrived in my car and I glanced to Klaus with the sneaking suspicion that he had compelled some of the women there but I didn't ask.

I let him officially meet Luna and although she was shy, she told me that she liked him once we got home.

Hope and Luna had a couple of play dates and everyone was getting along.

Luna started to ask for Nik sometimes, and once or twice she had accidentally called him 'dad' or 'daddy' though she would deny it afterwards and cry because she didn't want her father to think she was replacing him which would break my heart without fail.

Hope was a little older than Luna so more mature, Klaus didn't have the same issues I was having.

It had been months, over a year since our first date and Klaus told me that he loved me. It was a reality check of sorts. It scared me a little.

I had to start really thinking. Klaus was immortal and hope had powers. Luna and I would never be anything more than human. We would never be powerful and one day I would get old and Klaus wouldn't love me the way he does now, for all I know another woman could catch his eye and he would leave Luna and I right back where we were. Alone.

It worried me more when Luna asked if Nik and Hope could live with us. It was something I know Nik had considered, he had spoken about it a couple times but we never really came to a final decision. However I had to think about that now.

Klaus was already adamant that I shouldn't have to work so much but the fear of him leaving, or worse...dying, made me cling onto my job for stability. I couldn't ever risk not having a roof over Luna's head and that meant never relying on anybody. I know Nik doesn't really understand that fear. He promises that, even though it won't ever happen, if we did break up then he would never let myself or Luna to be struggling.

"I could never do that to you" he promised after I told him of the thoughts that haunted my head.

"Not now maybe...but I don't know...what if something really bad happened?" I asked quietly and he frowned, cupping my jaw and kissing my forehead as we lay in my bed for the third night in a row while Luna and Hope had another sleepover a couple doors over.

"Nothing could ever be bad enough for me to do that" he whispered and I looked down as i traced meaningless shapes onto his bare chest.

"What if...what if you were killed or something?" I mumbled, wincing at the thought and memories.

"Then I would leave everything to you and you and Luna and Hope would be living like royalty" he murmured and I game him an unconvincing half-smile.

"Well...what if something happened to me?" I questioned and he went quiet, just looking at me for a moment before replying.

"Then I would raise Luna as well as I could, and we would think of you and love you always" he finally answered and I lay my head down against his shoulder, staring at nothing in particular.

“You have to promise…that even if you hate me, you can’t ever hate Luna” I whisper. His hold tightened on me and I was pulled as close as physically possible.

“I promise” he agreed as I closed my eyes as I tried to relax as much as I could.

I won’t lie, I had to be reassured more than I thought. I just couldn’t stop the worries.

But Klaus always had the perfect thing to say, he always made me feel safe and comfortable. He made Luna happy and he was a new beginning for both of us. Him and Hope were our family now, Always and Forever.

(I’m so sorry I didn’t add any smut or another addition…maybe I could make a part two and involve their family growing?? I think I got too invested in the emotional side when writing)

[kelstey]

i waited

theodore nott x reader

warnings : none

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

theo kissed your forehead, both you bodies sticky and sweaty from the moments prior. you smiled to yourself as his muscular arms made their way around you.

"i don't think i'll ever get over how beautiful you are," theo ran his fingers through yourhair.

"thank you, theo," you turned your head and kissed his lips.

your happiness was quickly replaced by a sudden wave of what felt like guilt and shame.

the two of you had always been close, sharing kisses, looks, even touching when no oneelse would be looking. that part killed you.

no one knew. not even pansy and luna. given, luna may not be accepted by a large majority of slytherins but you couldn't help but love her, she was amazing and understood you in a way no one else did.

that's how private the two of you had decided- well improvised on. you wanted to show him off. you wanted to kiss him before class, hold hands when sat next to each other, dance in front of everyone, everything.

but he didn't want that. he liked the privacy. but you were never sure if that was really a cover for simply using you.

but you let him.

"i should get going, i'm going out with luna to the three broomsticks," you moved out of theo's arms and started picking up the clothes that were discarded all over the room after theo ripped them off of you.

"tell her i said hi," theo said, another thing that you liked about him. he liked luna. but he was partially stupid as you couldn't tell luna that he said hi, she would ask questions as to why he would even do that.

"i think you forgot we are a secret," you put your tights on.

"fuck, yeah. well- have fun then," theo waved and you hurried out, still attempting to tie your tie.

you felt the tears coming. you couldn't help it. you felt idiotic to allow theo to walk all over you. you promised yourself you would never let a man take you for a fool, but no. here you are, years later, being taken as a fool by a man you were in love with.

obviously he didn't know, he couldn't. it would ruin everything.

the two of you agreed to strictly have just sex. just sex. just stupid fucking amazing sex. he was a natural at it, he knew how to make you cum in minutes. he had you wrapped around his finger.

you typically wouldn't let anyone see or touch you, but theo? he could do anything and you would let him. it also felt like a weird bonding experience.

sex is intimate, of course. it's the closest two souls can get to each other. and you were convinced that the countless amount of times you did it in a day with him made some sort of connection.

you wiped your tears away as you entered the three broomsticks and saw luna sat alone in your usual corner. "luna!"

"you're here!" she exclaimed and got up out of her seat to hug you.

"of course, you know i love our chats here," you smiled and the two of you sat down.

"are you okay?" she asked as she observed the mascara which was evidently smudged under your eyes.

you had to tell her. you had to tell someone. there's no one you would rather tell than her. "luna, please, pinky promise me you won't ever tell a soul."

she nodded, "your secret is safe with me. you know that."

you looked around the place, only noticing two other tables of people who seemed to be in their own little worlds. "okay, me and theo have been hooking up. like friends with benefits style, but i'm in love with him. i cant keep doing this. it hurts, luna. i want to love him and kiss him around our friends but i can't."

luna sat and listened to you ramble on, a few tears shedding in the process. "that's horrible. but you must know, no man, especially one who you aren't even dating, should ever make you feel this way. the right one will make you cry only tears of happiness and pleasure, if you know what i mean."

her comment made you laugh, this was why you loved her. "thanks lu. sorry about that rant, i haven't told anyone and so feel special you're first to hear about this fucked up situation."

"i'm glad you can trust me, but i think i may have an idea," luna sat upright. "how about you stop meeting him so often? maybe start seeing him once a day; then once every few days. if you want to take it a step further you could even start hanging out with another boy more."

"luna you're a fucking genius," you reached over and hugged her.

"you know i always have the best ideas," she giggled.

just then the door opened and luna's eyes focused behind you, as your back was turned to the door.

"who is it?" you asked as you noticed her smile had dropped.

"don't turn around if you don't want to cry," she said and you immediately turned your head 180°.

"no fucking way," your jaw dropped as you saw theo walk in with cho. "is he fucking shitting me right now? luna tell me i'm dreaming. tell me."

"i'm sorry, babe. do you want to go somewhere else?" she asked.

"yes it is best we go. i don't think i'll be able to hold back a fucking fist in both their stupid faces," you both got up.

and as for your amazing luck, they both spotted you and luna. theo called out your name and walked over to you. "hey, what's up?" he asked with a stupid smile on his face as if he didn't know what he was doing.

"hey theo," luna gave a small wave and he smiled at her.

"we were just leaving," you said and took luna's hand and the two of you walked out. you heard theo say something but you were too distracted by the ringing in your ears.

"it's okay, it's okay," luna engulfed you into a very big, very needed hug.

"why would he do that? i literally told him i was going to be here with you?" you cried into her arms.

"he's a boy, they don't think with their brains, only their dicks."

-

it had been a few days since the incident and you still had not spoke to theo. you were going out of your way to ignore him, not caring if it hurt you more than him.

you would spot theo in the halls, once he noticed you, you had already turned around and walked the complete opposite way before he even got a chance to call out your name.

it hurt too much. it didn't help that after those first couple of days, he eventually stopped trying to get your attention. instead he was being all handsy with cho.

it killed you, hardly being able to speak or react. it also hurt that you had to distance yourself from the other slytherins who noticed the lack of your presence.

but it wasn't all too bad, instead of hanging with them you and luna started hanging out more. she would check up on you constantly, making sure to cheer you up to avoid you thinking about him.

she knew you were deeply upset about it. she allowed you to grieve, cry and let all of it out. she herself had never experienced this type of hurt, but she was almost grateful as she saw how badly it impacted you.

aside from not speaking to theo, you kept your head up high. you still went to class, still did your work, still sat at the slytherin table for meals. everyone noticed the tension between the two of you.

no one asked, or at least in front of your face. they decided it was better to keep quiet and try keep things as normal as could be.

amongst those few days of hurting, you started growing closer with mattheo. he was also there for you, he wasn't sure exactly what happened with theo but he knew it was hurting you and so he decided to be there for you.

he also had to admit that it was also due to the fact that he fancied you. you began sitting next to him at meals, class, even sometimes being spotted after classes walking together.

this didn't go unnoticed by theo, of course. he wanted to punch mattheo in his face. mattheo was one of theo's closest friends and to see him get close with you, it also hurt him.

it was a stupid, stupid situation. the two of you pretending to move on while both your feelings grew stronger- though a large majority of it was anger due to the fact you were not communicating.

or at least verbally communicating. whenever you looked up, no matter where you were, his eyes were the first ones to meet yours.

it was ridiculous, really. you couldn't seem to get away from him, he seemed to stalk you as if you were prey. he couldn't get you out of his mind.

-

you looked over at the clock, 2:56am. great. you couldn't seem to sleep for some reason and it was starting to annoy you. you quietly got out of bed, slipping on a random hoodie on the floor and your slippers before leaving your dorm. you knew that after 12am, no teachers or prefects would be on lookout so you didn't have to worry too much about getting caught.

you made your way up to the astronomy tower, your favourite spot to go when you were unable to sleep. you reached into your pj short pockets and retrieved the joint that you rolled earlier.

you got the lighter out and attempted to light it. of course it had to be out of fluid. you were just away to get up when you noticed theo standing behind you.

"you spooky bitch! why the fuck would you stand there like that, holy fuck bro. you better be glad i'm a teenager and not an old woman cause you would've gave me a heart attack," you scolded him as you raised a hand over your heart to relieve yourself of the pure distress he just put you through.

"calm down, darling. here's a lighter," he passed you his stainless steel lighter. the same one you carved both of your initials into. you were surprised he used it.

"you don't get to do that," you looked up at him, feeling anger flowing through your veins. theo looked at you, he seemed confused but also like he knew what was happening.

"you don't get to have cuddle me, kiss me, make love to me, everything a couple would do, and then fucking show up to a place where you knew i was at with another stupid fucking girl! do you know how long i've waited for you? years theo, fucking years! i thought it was best to keep waiting, hoping for the day that you would admit you loved me back, but you didn't. but i still waited, theo, i fucking waited. i would never do this if it was anyone else," you felt tears threatening to spill and a lump in your throat.

theo remained quiet, he looked down at his hands and played with the silver rings which decorated his stupidly pretty hands. you waited for him to say something, anything. but he didn't. once again, but were you surprised.

"have your stupid lighter back. i never should've carved our initials in it thinking we could've been something," you shoved the silver lighter into his hands before walking off.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

love languages ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

hp boys x reader (ft. harry potter, ron weasley, fred weasley, draco malfoy, cedric diggory, remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, tom riddle) backtrack: "the feels", twice inspiration: my post for pjo (here) that has the same concept

harry potter

giving: acts of service

harry always fights to protect those he loves, lest we forget the battle in the department of mysteries to “save” sirius, and even those he could not care less about (ahem draco). he’s self sacrificing, literally walking to his own death in the last book to save everyone else. and on a day to day basis, he goes out of his way to include or be nice to everyone, especially those who don’t really have friends, like luna or neville. he’s less about grand gestures and sappy love, instead preferring to care for his loved ones in practical ways.

receiving: words of affirmation

before harry went to hogwarts and met his friends, he literally received no love. petunia, vernon, and dudley would emotionally and physically abuse him. for that reason, I think harry would really appreciate someone praising him or just simply saying an “I appreciate you” or even “I love you”. also for that reason, I think physical touch might be a receiving love language for harry too.

ron weasley

giving: acts of service

oh gosh here we go, I already know there’s going to be so many “acts of service” guys on here. ron’s one of the most loyal people in the series, he’s always there for his friends and he is super selfless and protective of them. curse the movies for taking away his moment where he stands up on a broken leg to protect harry from a literal serial killer (well not really, but they didn’t know it at the time). he’s not the most, uh, articulate should we say, but he always helps his friends out.

receiving: words of affirmation

growing up in a family as big as his, ron got cast aside a lot. I mean, his literal deepest desire was to be noticed by others and not be overshadowed. and deep down he definitely knew that his family loved him, it was just kind of hard to see sometimes since his parents’ and siblings’ attention was always so divided. (side note, as an only child I could not imagine being in a family of ron’s size; one of my best friends has two sisters and she’s one of the nicest people I know, and I definitely think there’s a correlation) so if someone were to finally notice him and genuinely love him for who he is and tell him that, it would make him so happy. finally, he’s enough as he is. finally, he feels like someone loves him.

fred weasley

giving: quality time

quality time and acts of service are the big ones for fred. he’s willing to put himself into dangerous situations during the war (rip fred weasley, you deserved better) and the battle of seven potters. besides that, he thrives on bringing people together and making connections. he’s super friendly to everyone, a classic jokester, and he shows his love through the time he spends around people, especially george. they were always together. it hurts that they can't be anymore.

receiving: quality time

fred spent like all of his time with george when they were first starting weasleys’ wizard wheezes. granted, that was because starting a business takes a lot of time and effort, but it shows how fred is willing to spend time focusing on his passions. that led me to think he’d find it super important to spend time with his loved ones, and he would want his partner to spend a lot of time with him too. he uses humor as a defense mechanism and a coping mechanism, but deep down he knows that the war is actually dangerous and will have real consequences, such as bill getting mauled or george losing an ear. (or, you know, FRED LOSING HIS LIFE.) so he treasures every little moment with his loved ones.

draco malfoy

giving: acts of service

thinking about this was actually really hard. draco’s such a cold person, and he’s never shown love; all his selfless actions can be chalked up to fear and having no choice. so I had to look at when and why he married astoria. and this meant dipping into the cursed child, which I’ve never read fully but have read enough to be able to say I hate it and I don’t accept it. he truly did love astoria, even when his relationship with his parents suffered because of it. he became a better person because of astoria--miss  girl really said “I can fix him”. he even went so far as to disregard his father’s wishes when he wanted to let the malfoy line die with him. so I think when he really does find someone he loves, draco can be a pretty selfless person.

receiving: words of affirmation

gosh, just how much do people suck up to him? he was treated like a king in his early hogwarts years, and he loved it. I think the deeper reason is that he grew up without a ton of verbal affection from his family, so that’s something he craves from other places--a partner, or peers. the first time he hears an “I love you”, he’d be absolutely shocked and maybe turn cold or shut down. after some time and patience from both of you, he’d slowly begin to accept praise or loving words. if he’s feeling brave, he may even reciprocate them. only when it’s in the middle of the night and he’s pretty sure you’re asleep, though.

cedric diggory

giving: quality time

cedric spent a lot of time with cho when they were together; they would always go on dates and spend a lot of time together in between classes. it shows how much he values spending time with his loved ones. another giving love language of his is definitely quality time, because cedric is 100% a giver. he tipped harry off about the golden egg. he wanted harry to take the cup when they were in the maze. he’s just such a nice guy.

receiving: physical touch

this is for two reasons. one because I want it to be, and two because did you see his face when rita skeeter ruffled his hair in the movie? the guy was not having it, but I bet if the right person did it he’d be all blushy and smiley. also when harry went to the courtyard to tell him about the dragons, he was literally laying in his friend’s lap. and I can’t remember correctly, but wasn’t it said that he and cho would constantly hold hands? yeah. enough said.

remus lupin

giving: acts of service

remus does so much for others. he was one of the best defense against the dark arts professors for a reason. and even if his competition wasn’t so poor, I’m sure he would’ve been just as popular. he’s a natural mentor and caregiver, always there for others and sometimes neglecting his own needs because of it. he engages with his students on a personal level, especially harry, and he is always willing to put himself in danger for others, as seen in the battle of seven potters and the battle of hogwarts.

receiving: words of affirmation

this and quality time. for quality time, he spent a lot of time with his friends in school, and he spent a lot of time with harry when he was the datda professor. this time really helped grow his relationships and helped him feel close to his newfound family. as for words of affirmation, I think it’s obvious; as a kid, he never really had friends, and as a result he secretly yearns for encouragement and emotional support. kind words and whispered promises that everything will be okay. that is how remus lupin feels loved.

sirius black

giving: quality time

sirius spent so much time with his friends when he was young. he had a really rocky relationship with his family, so he gave all of his love to his friends. he and james were practically inseparable, they had such a nice connection. on top of that, after barely any human interaction for twelve whole years in azkaban, he treasures every single moment he has with his loved ones. it’s like every time he and his partner are together, he looks at them and can hardly believe this is real. but it is real. he’s out of azkaban, he’s free, and he has such an amazing partner to spend the rest of his life with. that’s decades! (I can’t with sirius’s death, I--no. he did not die.)

receiving: words of affirmation

sirius spent his childhood and adult life being rejected and ridiculed. that’s got to hurt, especially when he was literally in azkaban for something he didn’t do. he was so deprived of love and general human interaction for twelve years that I imagine he’d initially be kind of awkward or even scared when his partner first shows him love through praise or verbal affection. after a while though, he’d warm up and hopefully show that youthful, happy side of him again. also, he’d probably be big on quality time, since he got none of it at all during his azkaban years.

james potter

giving: words of affirmation

ah, finally someone who’s not acts of service or quality time! at this point I think maybe it’s just me. james is teasing and playful with his words; he’s very vocal about his affection and appreciation for his friends and loved ones. he did, after all, ask lily out pretty much every time he saw her. not at all like remus, who is a love letters and secret admirer kind of guy.

receiving: words of affirmation

james loved hearing praise and support. especially when he was in school. fuel his ego. that’s it.

tom riddle

giving: words of affirmation

I don’t think voldemort could physically feel love. I sometimes wonder if tom riddle and voldemort were different people, and honestly that’s a can of worms I don’t want to get into right now. I believe there’s some sort of theory that he can’t feel love because he was conceived while his dad was under a love potion? I have no idea. the important thing is that we all know how good tom riddle was at manipulating people. flattery gets you nowhere, they say, well clearly not if you’re tom marvolo riddle, because flattery got him everywhere. so he would use words to flatter people and show his admiration or appreciation of them, but was any of it actually real? I doubt it.

receiving: words of affirmation

honestly kind of the same deal with draco, but he's a lot worse. he wants to be treated like a king--scratch that, he wants to be treated like a god. he craves affirmation for his greatness and abilities. all his followers praise him endlessly, calling him “my lord” and sucking up to him. he also wanted his ideologies to be affirmed and supported by others. let’s face it, words of affirmation were just another way for him to prove to himself that he’s the greatest.

just a heads up guys, I'm so tired as I'm writing this so it was unedited

divider by @enchanthings

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72, @stars-tonight, @toooster, @soft-likethesunset, @sheisntyou

[hellsitedotcom]

### Honkai Men & How They Kiss ###

Featuring Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine.

warnings: I only started playing, so this might end up ooc; no other warnings rlly.

english isn't my native language!

''I probably won't get that invested,'' well maybe I should shut my mouth more; bone app the teeth!

DAN HENG

This can both count of just Dan Heng, or Imbibitor Lunae (if you prefer imagining him); I doubt there'd be any difference in their character, which is why I don't feel like specifying - it's up to whoever you, the reader, prefers.

Firstly, I believe that Dan Heng is someone who initiates affection more privately, less frequently or dramatically in public; You'll probably find yourself initiating the majority of your kisses with him!

But, when it does come to kissing, he's a gentle soul; Maybe not even gentle, but...hesitant of sorts. That hesitance does not come from an uncertainty regarding his feelings toward you - I'd call it a...worry, a ''fear'', of sorts.

That aside, there is something that just...makes your heart skip a beat, makes you giddy when he kisses you. Your forehead against his after a long kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling. He's soft, gentle with his kiss.

There's no ''fleeting'' kiss with Dan Heng; he'll either kiss you properly, or not at all. Still, I can see him be someone to kiss your cheek, forehead, or palm/hand - but rather in private than in public!

While some people might see him that way, I personally do not see him as someone who is ''aggressive'' or ''intense'' in a sexual sense during kissing (might also be my aroace ass speaking, idk) - sure, maybe kisses might turn into a slightly heated make out session, but nothing ''extreme''.

When it comes to what kisses he loves, I believe he would enjoy kisses on the cheek, though there is nothing he loves more than feeling your lips on his.

BLADE

I've only met him briefly in-game yet (only now finished the quest w/ the Xianzhou and heading to Penacony), so...I'll try my best, lol.

Before I got into the game again & read some more about him, my initial thought was that he'd be a ''possessive'' person, but I highly doubt that (or kinda...refuse to think that? I dunno), and I'd say he can be...a little of a wildcard?

While I can see him be a ferocious, ''aggressive'' kisser on some occasions, I do believe he can also be found on the other end of the spectrum.

Blade's kisses can be intense, demanding almost, biting down on your lip and clearly asserting dominance while kissing you, making you struggle to keep your balance; He'll whisper to you, speak under his breath while you can barely catch your breath.

Then there's the other end of the spectrum, when his kisses almost seem...fragile? Absent? Like he's...not fully there, or not fully himself. He'll not be one to initiate much affection during this time, which is also how you know that something's currently not right with him.

Last, there are the ''normal'' kisses - no aggression and demand behind them, yet they aren't absent either. A normal, brief kiss that only you can really tell the genuine emotion behind, since to most people Blade's expression would indicate he'd much rather be somewhere else.

When it comes to receiving kisses, I don't think he generally has a preference there? Or would even be big on receiving kisses specifically? At least behind close doors I can see him be someone who'd much rather have you hug him or hold him.

JING YUAN

Ah, Alejandro Saab my beloved; I didn't think I'd love the guy this much when I first started playing, lol.

A confident man indeed, especially when it comes to the love you two share, for your relationship. His genuine admiration and adoration for you are evident to most people, though he knows when to be subtle or act in a way that hides his emotions.

Jing Yuan can be a tease, though mostly behind close doors; He'll have you close, his arm around your waist, his lips hovering above yours, yet he refuses to kiss you, watching you grow impatient as he pulls away anytime you want to close the distance.

When he does kiss you, he does so with passion. His kisses are on the more sensual side, leaving you breathless and longing for more. He'll have you completely undone after just a short makeout session, leaving you with a wink and teasing smirk on his lips.

In private, when you are alone, away from responsibilities and work, when he has time to think, to remember the past...that smirk might still be present whenever you want his attention, but it feels fake. During those times, whenever he'll reach for you to kiss or hold you, he'll be lost in his own thoughts, though you always help him feel grounded, and guide him back to the present.

He doesn't mind initiating affection in public either, though he does...behave himself more, lol; He'll kiss your cheek or the palm of your hand while at a commission, and you can also find him holding your waist when you're out in public - or allowing you to hold onto his arm.

Jing Yuan is also someone that just enjoys quality time; on those rare occasions when you two can relax and cuddle, there is nothing he enjoys more than napping in your arms; And, yes, he loves those sleepy kisses during those times, or in the early morning when you just woke up.

When it comes to your kisses, he prefers soft pecks on his forehead, or all over his face while you are cuddling - though there is nothing he loves more than having you play with his hair while you're cuddling/he's napping.

AVENTURINE

I've not met him yet, but he reminds me of an OC I have, which is why I automatically liked him, lol.

I want to say that he'd flaunt you around, be dramatic about your relationship, but I'm not sure that'd be a smart move, and I'm sure he'd be aware of that...anyway, he's someone that certainly makes love exciting.

He's even worse than Jing Yuan when it comes to his teasing smirk; Yet, he won't really be a tease, but rather more playful in his affection? Randomly slide up to you, twirl you close, brush his lips over yours while talking low before spinning you and then pressing a kiss to your lips, or dipping you and kissing your neck.

Definitely not one to shy away from being affectionate, though it is more on the casual-seeming side in the way he portrays it; He doesn't make a big fuss out of it - kissing you feels like it comes natural to him.

There were moments in which you were laying in his arms and you tried to steer the calm atmosphere in a more serious direction, though that only works up to a certain point with him and then he'll kiss you energetically to distract from that; also enjoys tickling you, but that's another thing.

His kisses vary in their kind; sometimes, they are brief and playful, while other times they are energetic and passionate, and so on. What is it called? A jack of all trades, though that figure of speech isn't entirely accurate, lol.

His public displays of affection are just as unpredictable as his affection in private; sometimes, he does not mind being affectionate around you, though he knows how to judge a situation well enough to hold back, or completely refrain from touching you.

When it comes to receiving affection, he's definitely obsessed with you just showering his face in kisses, sitting on his lap while he holds you close; or when you are cuddling and you just keep pressing kisses to his neck/throat/behind his ear.

[I have a Genshin version for some Men & Women, too]

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 이찬영 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ ex bestfriends ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which you have been receiving anonymous love letters from a secret somebody .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1918 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ stupid anton ៸ teeny tiny angst ៸ cursing ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 — anton is my bf (╥﹏╥) ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

IT’S BEEN FIVE LONG MONTHS SINCE YOUR BEST FRIEND, LEE ANTON CUT YOU OFF.

you still vividly remember the day it happened, replaying it in your mind like an unskippable track.

one day, you were best friends, inseparable through years of shared laughs, secrets, and memories, and the next… he was gone.

no explanation, no warning— just a sudden wall of silence between you that felt as cold and impenetrable as ice.

it stung, the confusion settling in the pit of your stomach like a weight you couldn’t shake off.

the worst part? anton didn’t even look at you anymore—the boy who used to know all your thoughts before you’d even say them, the one you’d spent countless nights laughing with, was suddenly avoiding your existence.

five months of awkward hallway glances, of pretending like you didn’t notice the way he kept his distance, of telling yourself you were fine even though you weren’t.

you tried to move on. tried to focus on school, friends, anything that would take your mind off the gaping hole anton had left behind.

but it was harder than you’d imagined, especially because no one understood what had happened. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

not even your closest friends could figure out why anton had ghosted you without so much as a word.

today, though, was different. it was valentine’s day, and the entire school was basically buzzing with excitement.

everywhere you looked, there were students exchanging gifts, blushing as they handed out heart-shaped cards, or walking around with bouquets of flowers.

it was all so annoyingly and sickingly sweet.

and yet, you couldn’t help but be at the center of some of that excitement.

for the past week, you’d been finding love letters and flowers in your locker.

at first, you thought it was some kind of cruel prank from your classmates, but the letters were so thoughtful, so genuine, that they couldn’t be anything but real.

each note was more romantic than the last, speaking about your smile, the way you laughed, how you made everything brighter just by being yourself.

despite the anonymity of it all, the letters made your heart race every time you opened your locker.

the idea that someone had been watching you, admiring you from afar, stirred a confusing mixture of nervousness and anticipation inside you.

you found yourself wondering who it could be, secretly hoping it was someone you liked, someone who could make the fluttering in your chest a reality.

your friends were absolutely living for it, constantly guessing who your secret admirer could be.

“maybe it’s jisung,” one of your friends had suggested. “he’s been looking at you a lot in class lately.”

“or what about yeonjun?” another friend chimed in. “he’s always finding excuses to talk to you.”

you had no idea who it was, but their excitement was contagious, part of you was curious too, and today, the mystery had deepened.

when you reached your locker that morning, there was a note waiting for you again, but this time it was different.

instead of a long confession of admiration, it was short and to the point.

💌﹕meet me on the rooftop after school today, i want to finally tell you everything.

your heart skipped a beat, this was it—whoever had been sending the letters wanted to finally reveal themselves.

you stared at the note, reading it over again to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

a surge of nerves bubbled up inside you—what if it wasn’t someone you were expecting? what if this turned out to be awkward or disappointing?

but even as doubt crept in, you couldn’t deny the curiosity burning inside you.

during lunch, you told your friends about the note, showing them the message.

“i think i’m going to go,” you said, feeling more anxious by the minute.

your friends erupted into excited squeals, exchanging glances.

“oh my god, you have to! this is it, the big reveal!” one of them exclaimed, nudging you with a teasing grin.

amid the laughter and conversation, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye.

anton was sitting a few tables away, and though he was trying to look like he wasn’t paying attention, you could see the way his eyes flickered in your direction every few seconds, his expression tight.

for a moment, you wondered what he was thinking.

why did he care? but you quickly brushed it off—anton had no right to be part of this anymore, not after abandoning you without so much as a word of explanation.

when the last bell rang, you gathered your things and made your way towards the rooftop, your heart pounding in your chest.

every step felt heavy with the weight of anticipation, you didn’t know what you were walking into, but part of you was ready—ready for something new, something exciting.

just as you rounded the corner to the stairwell, a firm but gentle hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back into a secluded hallway.

your eyes widened in surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to see who had stopped you.

anton.

for the first time in five months, he was standing in front of you, his grip on your wrist gentle— his expression was tense, his eyes scanning your face with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“anton?” you whispered, still reeling from the shock. “what are you doing?”

“don’t go to the rooftop,” he said, his voice low and serious.

there was a strange urgency in his tone, as if he were on the verge of saying something incredibly important.

you frowned, confused and frustrated. “what? why not?”

he pulled you closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. “just… trust me. you shouldn’t go.”

you stared at him, your heart pounding even harder now, but for entirely different reasons.

“why do you care?” you demanded, yanking your wrist free from his grip.

“you haven’t spoken to me in months, anton. you haven’t cared about anything i’ve done for five months, and now you’re telling me not to go? who exactly do you think you are?”

he flinched at the bitterness in your voice, but his expression didn’t waver.

“it’s not about that—“

“then what is it about?” you crossed your arms, your frustration boiling over.

“why are you suddenly acting like this? what’s going on?”

anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might not answer—his silence only frustrated you more.

why was he keeping secrets again? just like when he had cut you off without an explanation.

“please, just tell me,” you said softly, your voice tinged with a hint of hurt. “i don’t understand why you care now.”

finally, after what felt like an eternity, anton let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and something you couldn’t place.

“because,” he started, his voice low and tense, “the person who left that note isn’t who you think it is.”

you blinked, confusion washing over you.

“what do you mean? it’s not the person who’s been sending me the love letters?”

anton shook his head, his expression darkening. “no. someone else is pretending to be me.”

your heart dropped. “pretending to be you? what are you talking about?”

he clenched his fists at his sides, the tension radiating off him in waves.

“i’ve been leaving the love letters. i was the one who wrote all of them. but the note today? the one telling you to meet them on the rooftop? that wasn’t from me. i overheard some guys talking in class. some asshole—he was trying to take credit for my letters..”

you felt like the ground had just shifted beneath you—anton had been the one leaving the love letters? and now someone else was using that to trick you?

“why would they do that?” you asked, your voice small as the realization of what was happening began to sink in.

“i don’t know,” anton said, his voice full of frustration.

“but i couldn’t let you go up there. i didn’t want them to trick you or take credits of the letters i wrote for you... i know how much the letters meant to you.”

your heart softened slightly at his words, but there was still a burning question in the back of your mind.

“but why didn’t you just tell me it was you from the beginning? why all the secrecy, anton? why did you even cut me off in the first place?”

his face tensed at the question, and for a moment, you thought he might avoid answering again.

but then he sighed, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of everything he’d been holding back was finally catching up to him.

“because being around you hurt,” he admitted, his voice soft and raw.

“i was in love with you, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. every time we hung out, it felt like a reminder that i wasn’t good enough, that i’d never have a chance with you. so i cut you off because i thought it would help me move on, but it didn’t. it just made everything worse.”

you stared at him, your heart twisting at the vulnerability in his voice—all this time, the reason he’d disappeared from your life wasn’t because he hated you, but because he cared too much.

you hadn’t seen it before, but now, standing here in this cramped hallway with anton looking at you like he was afraid you might vanish, it all clicked into place.

“i can’t believe you kept this from me for so long,” you whispered, your voice soft but laced with a hint of teasing. “you’re such an idiot.”

before he could respond, you reached up and flicked his forehead lightly, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

“ow!” anton winced, rubbing his forehead. “what was that for?”

“for being an idiot,” you said, shaking your head. “you could’ve just told me.”

he opened his mouth to protest, but you silenced him with a kiss.

it was soft, gentle, and filled with all the words you hadn’t been able to say before.

when you finally pulled away, anton was staring at you, wide-eyed and speechless.

“you…like me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

you rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. “no shit anton—obviously i do.”

for a moment, anton just stood there, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and a stupid grin.

then— a wide smile spread across his face, and without warning, he pulled you into another kiss, this one deeper and more certain.

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, but the awkward tension that had once lingered between you was gone.

“so,” you said with a grin, “are you going to keep writing me love letters, or was that just a one-time thing?”

anton chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection.

“i’ll keep writing them for you, every single day if that’s what you want.”

you laughed, leaning into his chest as you both stood there, the world outside of the janitor’s closet fading away.

everything had changed, but somehow, it felt like it had all fallen perfectly into place.

© won4kiss 2024

𝒯aglist open ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @pockyyasii @iluvnikism @wonsprincess @rikibwn @niawonn

៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

[honeytonedhottie]

honey's guide to spring⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪷

i've been preparing this post for a while bcuz i LOVE spring and for this spring i just wanna embody feminine, fairy, dream-like beauty in my day-to-day this spring, and just enjoy it fully.

THE MOOD FOR SPRING : planting new seeds, fresh fruit, and bouquets of flowers. tea parties and floral prints and perfumes. green grapes, hibiscus tea and waking up early to see the sunrise.

PREPARATION FOR SPRING : stock up on your favorite fruits and teas. if u want fruits that are in season, the fruits in season during spring include strawberries, cherries, blueberries, kiwis, bananas and nectarines. my favorite spring time tea is hibiscus and i love a good matcha during all seasons but especially spring, and lastly a good citrus tea is always something that i enjoy.

if ur someone who experiences rly bad allergies during the spring make sure that u go to ur doctors for a check up, and make sure that u have everything that you'll need to combat allergies.

THE PLAYLIST : a good playlist is always essential so my spring playlist consists of : eternal sunshine - jhene aiko. はるなつあきふゆ - ichiko aoba. afterglow - luna li. pisces - yerin baek. fairy of shampoo - TXT. scenery - red velvet. hydrangea love - TXT. cool with you - newjeans. salad days - iiso. pov - ariana grande. lyricist - heize.

REFRESH : time for spring cleaning both mentally and physically. analyze what habits are nourishing u and which habits are drying you out. analyze ur space and do a deep cleaning, that way u can feel lighter both mentally and physically.

wash ur sheets, maybe even buy fresh sheets (floral printed sheets for spring ofc)

go thru ur closet and put the winter and autumn clothes towards the back and bring the spring clothes where they're more accessible and visible

deep clean ur room and clean ur house -> get onto clean-tok for some cleaning motivation cuz watching videos of people cleaning and organizing always motivates me to do so too

create new pinterest boards and delete ones that u dont use, or if u want to, create a completely new pinterest account. i've grown attached to my pinterest account so i won't delete it, but i've made lots of other accounts on separate devices

oftentimes we forget to clean what we use the most, and that buildup can cause our tools to be counterproductive, and just carry a lot of unnecessary germs so here are some things not to forget to clean and organize ;

behind ur ears

ur earbuds or headphones

ur skincare tools and devices (gua shas, face rollers)

ur phone screen

ur folders, binders, and folders

CULTIVATING CREATIVITY :

create something - do some painting, start a sketchbook, start dabbling in some poetry, maybe write a short story, cultivate an elite playlist etc etc

connecting with nature - go and get some fresh air, wake up earlier than usual to watch and enjoy the sunrise. drink different teas that you've never tried before, go to a local crystal shop if ur into that, make urself an elaborate platter of ur favorite fruits. go for a walk in the park, pick flowers and speaking of flowers, go and buy urself a pretty bouquet.

create a spring-time mood board

TENDING THE GARDEN OF THE MIND :

ofc i MUST talk about the mind in any of my posts bcuz its just so incredible. but what you think matters!! what u think manifests! the thoughts that u continue to water and entertain are what you will experience. therefore when u change ur thoughts and water the seeds of the new thought, you'll get a new flower.

its like gardening. your thought is the seed, and ur mind is the soil. when u entertain ur thoughts ur watering the seed, and you'll get a new flower, the flower is the new experience. so this spring, plant new thoughts and entertain those thoughts ✨

FUN SPRING-LIKE THINGS :

picking flowers -> buying yourself a bouquet

have a tea party by yourself or with friends (reference my tea party post if u need some inspo)

make a bracelet or anklet out of flowers

take a bath and infuse the bath with things like rose petals, rose scented bath milks etc

crystal shopping (last year i added amethyst to my crystal collection, this year i'd love to add selenite into my collection)

watch a 90's anime (i've watched sailor moon about a MILLION times and im gonna rewatch it again this year bcuz its just the girliest, best anime i've watched and is one of my favorites)

so i hope that this post sparked some ideas on ways that u can enjoy your spring girlies ✨

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 17

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: Miguel has been distant lately and you don't know why. Word Count: 23.9k Warnings: distant Miguel; he displays similar behaviors from the beginning of the fic, no sleeping and skipping meals; tones/mentions of death; small moment in which reader misunderstands Miguel's words and thinks he means something else (him wanting to be gone permanently); lots of fluff memories; both Miguel and you cry; lyrics for some of the songs (two) will be sprinkled in the dialogue, I tried my best to translate for one, while for the other one you can search it up. You may already know the meaning behind it since I think most of Miguel nation knows this one song already. I think that's it. If you find something else, pls let me know :) Music (Spotify playlist): "rises the moon (piano version)" - goated. "Baila Esta Cumbia" - Selena "Las Mañanitas" - Vicente Fernández (birthday song for Mexicans, at least) "someday i'll get it" - Alek Olsen "pluto projector (melody)" - emptiness "En Familia" - Carlo Siliotto (unfortunately this song isn't on Spotify, but it was one of the two main songs for this chapter. You may find it on YT here) "Luna de Xelajú" - Gaby Moreno, Oscar Isaac (yes, we're bringing it back and you better have tissues ready 🤧) "Jacob and The Stone" - Emile Mosseri Masterlist (where you can find all my other fics, but most importantly, all fanart for NC 🥹) Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼❤️

Part 17

The sight of sunlight streaming through the holographic blinds of your bedroom meets your eyes when you first wake up. Yawning, you stretch beneath the sheets, slowly waking up. You roll over on your side with a sigh, staring at the little pockets of sunshine on the floor.

The warmth under the covers keeps you there, anchored to the bed for a few more minutes until you finally decide to get out of bed to start the day. You slip on both gizmos; the one everyone has available to them and the new one Miguel gave you to test for him, removing the wristband you wear around the penthouse due to comfort and to avoid glitching since you’re not in your universe.

Trying not to think about something, or rather someone, you make your bed and get ready for the day. It’s only when you’re done with your bathroom routine that you decide to find out.

“Lyla?” you say.

“Hey - morning,” she says popping through your gizmo.

“Morning… Is Miguel…” you trail off.

“He’s already at HQ, yes,” she replies, fixing her glasses. “He left two hours ago.”

“Thanks.” With a frown, you make your way downstairs. You only check the kitchen out of curiosity, not because you’re particularly hungry. Knowing Miguel is already gone has decreased your appetite. Sure enough, you find a note on the counter from him, stating that he’s going to HQ. With a sigh, you slip out of the penthouse and head to your universe for your usual morning patrol, feeling down about the situation.

The problem is… Today is not the first day Miguel has gone to HQ so early. He’s been leaving the penthouse as early as 5am, unlike the past weeks and months since you’ve been living with him. Typically, the two of you leave together around the same time you’ve left the place today. You have coffee and sometimes even cook a full breakfast, but it hasn’t been like that for a few days.

You eventually arrive to HQ after your patrol, still feeling a heaviness around you. You do your tasks such as working on the weekly report, going on missions, and helping other spider members when and where it’s needed until it’s time for you to head to Miguel’s lab for your weekly organizing.

It’s still something you enjoy doing, especially even more now that Miguel is so much more open than when you first started organizing his lab two years ago. Even if you’re not conversing, the simple enjoyment of being in each other’s presence is satisfying to the two of you.

You look down at the boxes with food from the cafeteria and the drink carrier in your hands as you head there. You’re certain Miguel hasn’t had anything to eat, except maybe a coffee, if even that, so you’ve decided to get him something. Of course, being lunch time, you got him his favorite meal from the cafeteria: empanadas and other sides, along with a water and a coffee.

As expected, he thanks you with a small smile, but it’s one that doesn’t reach his eyes these days. You both eat in silence before you begin to work. As always, you make your rounds and check each surface, seeing what all there is to organize before you actually begin. You do this quietly, noticing that Miguel is too quiet. In fact, he’s been so much quieter the last few days, as if something has been weighting on his mind. Deeply. Terribly.

You’ve found him staring off into his screens several times over the last few days, his crimson eyes unblinking and focused on nothing in particular, lost in whatever has been plaguing his thoughts these days.

His smiles are distant and sad. He’s been unable to give you a true, genuine smile.

To everyone else, it may seem like a normal thing. Maybe they haven’t even noticed it, but you know better.

He’s far too quiet when cooking. His gaze is unfocused when he’s reading in the afternoons. He’s sought more solitude recently, heading upstairs to his room after dinner, and has been working out every day in the private gym in the penthouse building for several hours at a time.

You dared asked him yesterday if something was wrong, in a far more subtle way, of course.

“I’m alright, just tired,” he replied blinking back into focus, raising his hand to move screens around. He was back to working, or well, actually working since he was zoning out before you talked to him.

You continue to work silently now, taking note of the fact that even Lyla doesn’t chat with you like she normally does. She pops in and out, doing her tasks without any banter.

With a heavy feeling, you glance at Miguel. He’s on his platform, his back to you. Your eyes trace his broad shoulders, the tense stance.

Those shoulders.

They’ve carried too much for far too long.

What is plaguing his mind as of now? You can only wonder to yourself.

You carry on with your tasks, giving Miguel his time. You hope he’ll feel comfortable enough to share with you what’s been on his mind soon, or at least that his mood will improve because his recent disposition has reminded you of the early days when you first started organizing the lab. And, the truth is, that that worries and saddens you. It almost sends little alarms to your head about the possibility of maybe… Losing him.

You shake your head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. You don’t want to think about that possibility. The possibility of him taking a step back and deciding to shut everyone out again.

Including you.

But surely, that’s not it. Right?

You’ve thought about it the last few days. Did you do or said something that made him upset? Is there a chance that you did and he doesn’t want to bring it up to avoid hurting your feelings? You even wonder if maybe he’s… In need of space from you. Maybe having you around too much has become stressful, even suffocating. You debate that specifically, having no other explanation for his current behavior.

You’ve both tried to give each other space while at the penthouse, so it’s not like you spend every hour together in the evenings. During the days, you’re off doing other things either at HQ or at your universe. Yet, you still wonder if you being in his personal space, in his home, has become too much for him. Maybe you’ve pushed his boundaries, those you always try to respect, without even realizing it.

With a frown and a bad feeling in your chest, one you’ve carried with you over the last few days, you continue to work wordlessly until you’re done. You decide to leave the lab afterwards and give Miguel space, thinking maybe he truly needs a break from you.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Miguel stays a few more hours at HQ than he usually does these days. When he gets home, he reheats his own dinner, even though you offer to do it for him, a gesture he politely declines. In previous days, you talked with him for a bit. You’ve told him about your day, back in your universe when you’re off to do patrols, which you’ve continued to do. Just because you’re living in Miguel’s universe for the moment, doesn’t mean you’ve abandoned your dimension nor left your city defenseless.

You know you have Miguel’s technology to help connect with your two-way radio in case of emergencies, but even then, you like to do patrols. It was your promise to Peter, your Peter, after all. To keep your city safe, so you do.

You patrol your city, witnessing all sorts of things. One thing you’ve definitely learned from being Spider-Woman is that people do strange, funny, and sometimes even wholesome things when they believe no one is watching. If only they knew Spider-Woman is often watching from some rooftop.

It’s these stories you’ve told Miguel, in hopes of bringing some light to those sad eyes. You’ve succeeded but only during those short moments of time.

Whatever is on his mind takes the happiness out of them and his heart.

Today, instead of talking to him, you opt to remain silent as you clean the kitchen to at least give him company. Not long after, he excuses himself after washing his dishes, heading to his bedroom. Once you’re done cleaning the kitchen, you decide to lounge in your room, or Gabriel’s rather.

The penthouse is, once more, silent this evening, and for the first time, you feel an emptiness from it.

With a sigh, you stare out the window. The sight of the sun setting reminds you of Father’s Day and how you both sat on the rooftop that evening, enjoying the view before the sun dipped below the horizon, giving you a memory you’ll forever remember.

You touch your elbow, recalling how you ended up hurting yourself that evening in an attempt to hide the gifts you got for Miguel. Of course, it’s healed now like other injuries have in the past regardless of how big or small, physical or emotional.

Time heals all.

Usually.

You turn towards the closet where you hit yourself that day. Before you know it, you’ve opened the door and stare at the top of it. Your eyes find Peter’s box with all of his belongings, the same one you haven’t opened since you packed it.

And today is still not that day.

You close the door again and lean back on it, the sunset filtering through the window. Silently, you wonder if Miguel is watching it, too, from his own room.

You almost wish you could send him a message, but that would be insensitive and inappropriate when he’s in such a mood.

Are you watching the sunset, too?

You scoff to yourself. Yeah, not the best time.

Isn’t it beautiful? The colors - that shade of red.

It reminds you of Miguel’s eyes.

Shaking your head at your random thought, you sit down on the chair within your room and stare at the sunset some more. You remain like that until the sun fully disappears, still thinking about him and wishing you knew what is bothering him.

It’s a few minutes after the sun sets that you stand up and do a little organizing around your room. You know you’re only trying to distract yourself from Miguel but you accept the distraction happily. It’s the only way you can stop thinking about him and wondering what’s going on, analyzing your actions and words from the last few days before his mood changed. Your organizing halts half an hour later when you hear Miguel’s bedroom door open.

You frown, knowing you’re only able to hear it because he wants you to. He always goes out of his way to make as little noise as possible in case you’re taking a nap or simply to avoid disrupting you.

You don’t hear his footsteps however. You hardly do. For a man his size, you’d think you’d hear them, but no. He’s so silent.

For a moment, you wonder if he even left his room. You foolishly hope that he’s opened the door to give you a sign, one that means he’s better and ready to interact, but your hopes are shattered when you receive the notification from your gizmo.

“I’m at the gym.” - M

A part of you wants to change into workout clothes and go to the gym just to be near him, even if you keep your distance, but no.

You recognize when someone wants space - when someone wishes to be alone.

Miguel wants that now, so, you stay put in the penthouse instead, though you can’t find it in yourself to do something relaxing such as reading a book, or watching a movie or show. You don’t engage with any of your hobbies, old or new. Instead, you slip on headphones and do chores like laundry and vacuuming the living room’s rug. You wipe the ceiling to floor windows of both the living and dining area rooms, needing no ladder thanks to your spider abilities as you listen to music.

You go through an entire album, marking an hour. You play another one, focusing on other chores like drying the dishes and placing them back where they go. You adjust the couches and fix your blanket. You dust the bookcases and Miguel’s new photographs before you sweep the living room, using some advanced broom despite having robot vacuums to take care of it.

Back at the kitchen, you wipe the counters once more and then sweep that area, too. You even venture to the other living room, the one that’s for entertaining guests, and repeat the process all over again.

You keep listening to music, the hours tick by. It’s eventually eleven and Miguel is still at the gym. You only know he’s still there because Lyla tells you so. After all the chores and restlessness, you take a shower before going to bed at last, even though you simply lay there, staring at the ceiling - alone in the penthouse.

You grow restless staring at the four walls, so you eventually get up and leave your room. You stand in the hallway of the second floor, noticing the silence and darkness. It brings a thought to mind, but one you immediately push away.

After standing there for a few minutes, you finally head downstairs. Your steps are the only sound as you reach the living room where one single lamp remains on, one that you left on for Miguel for when he comes home. You also left small lamps on in the other living room and another one in the kitchen so he can see where he’s going when he comes back.

It’s past midnight when you turn to the windows and stare out at Nueva York. You bring your hands to your arms, hugging yourself with a deep sigh.

Is Miguel even coming back to the penthouse tonight? Or, will he stay at the gym all night?

Minutes tick by as you keep your gaze on the city, waiting.

You wait, and wait. And wait.

“Lyla?” you break the silence several minutes later.

“Yeah?” Lyla appears next to you, her voice gentle to avoid startling you.

“Can you please turn off all the lights?”

At that, Lyla turns to you, a frown on her face as she processes the odd request. “Turn off the lights? Why?”

“Please,” you whisper, still hugging yourself and staring out the windows.

Despite her confusion and the urge to question and deny your request, Lyla does as you’ve asked. She turns off every single light, leaving the penthouse in utter darkness, save for some spaces that are somewhat illuminated by the outside.

You turn away from the windows and stare at the living room and the rest of the penthouse. Everything is dark. And you’re alone.

Your thought from earlier comes back as you take in your surroundings.

This is what it’s like for Miguel - what it was like back then when he lost Gabriella. All alone, sitting in darkness and silence with so many running emotions all on his own.

“This is what it was like,” you whisper.

“What was what like?” Lyla asks, still hovering near you.

“Miguel. After everything that happened with Gabriella.”

Lyla nods, now understanding what’s going on, recalling those nights. “Yes, this is what the penthouse looked and felt like on those nights - and there was something heavy that lingered in the space. I don’t like to think about those nights.”

“I understand,” you whisper, imagining what Lyla has shared.

She nods, still staring at the darkness. A frown is visible on her face. It bothers her to see you like this. “I’m turning the lights on.”

“Is Miguel still at the gym?”

“Yeah. He’s been working out, almost nonstop for hours.”

You nod. He’s been trying to distract himself with that. From what? You don’t know.

”Lyla?”

“Yes?”

“… I know I shouldn’t ask…”

“You want to know what’s happening.”

“Yes.”

Lyla sighs, or replicates doing so anyway as you turn to face her at last, still hugging yourself. She sits down and adjusts her heart shape glasses. “I’m honestly surprised Miguel hasn’t told you, but I suppose he still has some healing to do despite all the progress he’s done in the last year,” she says, staring at you. “I guess it’s why he still finds it hard to talk about her.”

Her.

“Gabriella. It’s about Gabby,” you state.

“Yes. Tomorrow…” Lyla sighs again. “Tomorrow, or well, I guess today, considering the time now, would’ve been… her birthday.”

Suddenly everything clicks into place.

Lyla watches the way your shoulders slump, the realization hitting you, and how your entire face changes to one of understanding and pain.

“Miguel,” you sigh, understanding everything now. No wonder he’s been so different lately, he’s been thinking about Gabby’s upcoming birthday for days. Probably thinking about what age she’d be turning today. Now more than earlier, you feel like going to look for him, to comfort him somehow, to be near him to offer at least your presence, but you’re reminded that Miguel doesn’t want that. At least, you don’t believe so. If he did, he’d be here in the penthouse, not at the gym alone.

“You should get some rest,” Lyla suggests. “I know that’s probably the last thing you want to do now but… Miguel would feel far more guilty if he knows he’s been keeping you up. I’m certain he already feels upset with himself for how different he’s been the last few days.”

“I don’t think I can sleep, but I know I can’t go and look for him,” you reply.

“No, that would upset him even more. He doesn’t like disturbing you, or rather worrying you.”

“Right,” you respond, even though you wish to run and find him right now. “I’ll be in my room. Please make sure those lights remain on. I don’t want him to come back to…”

“Darkness.”

You nod.

“The lights will remain on, no worries,” she reassures you. “Try to sleep a bit. I’ll keep an eye out for him, too. If something comes up, I’ll wake you up.”

Lyla “walks” you to your room, feeling the need to look after you. You’re after all, her boss’s best friend. Looking after you is her looking after Miguel, one of her integral designs.

You settle down on the bed, covering your body with the bed sheets, your mind running wild with thoughts. Lyla wishes you a good night after several minutes of her simply hanging out around the room, knowing you’re not much for conversation now that you know the reason for Miguel’s current behavior, before she flickers away.

Alone, you’re back to staring at the ceiling and the walls in an empty penthouse. It’s close to two in the morning when you hear subtle footsteps. They slow down in front of your bedroom, stopping by the door.

For a moment, you wonder if Miguel will come in, deciding to talk to you, even if he thinks he’ll have to wake you up. Instead, you hear a soft sigh before the footsteps continue, fading once Miguel enters his bedroom.

You’re not sure if Miguel gets any sleep, even though you’re tempted to ask Lyla. A part of you refuses to continue invading his privacy by having Lyla tell you what he’s up to, so you don’t. You stay up for a while, staring at the walls, tossing and turning. You eventually doze off despite wanting to remain awake, waking up at six only to be told by Lyla that Miguel has already been at HQ for an hour.

Tired, you start the day knowing what today is.

Gabby’s birthday.

As you move about the penthouse, you wonder how old she would’ve turned today. The few images you have of her pop into your mind along with the few videos Miguel has of her - almost like a movie, and one too short, like her life.

You ask Lyla what Miguel has done. Apparently, he’s been working on data since he showed up.

Downstairs, you find a sticky note on the counter. Ever since you began living with him, you started the habit of leaving him sticky notes around the place, something Miguel has begun to reciprocate. Like the previous day, he’s left you another one today.

I’m at HQ. - Miguel

You make yourself a coffee and gulp it down in a few drinks, needing the caffeine. You debate doing your morning patrol, but eventually decide to do it anyway, thinking it’ll give you time to think. Swinging around your city and watching from rooftops on your own, you question whether you should talk to Miguel, let him know that you’re aware of what today is, but you quickly change your mind.

You imagine Miguel might not be pleased to know that Lyla told you, so you decide not to say anything, at least for now. You’ll have to pretend that you don’t know the reason he’s hurting.

Back at HQ, you walk around the building and check on things, trying to distract yourself. It’s nine in the morning when you decide to grab some breakfast from the cafeteria for both Miguel and you. You’re unsure of what the day or Miguel will be like when it’s Gabby’s birthday, but you definitely know that you want to look after him, even if it’s only by making sure he’s eating properly.

With breakfast in your hands, you begin to head to the lab with hope. You’ve only taken about twenty steps when you receive a notification through your gizmo from Jess, which you quickly realize was sent to everyone.

“For all questions or concerns, direct yourself with me. Miguel is busy. Do not disturb him.” - Jess

Lowering your arm, you wonder if that message applies to you, too.

Standing in the middle of a corridor, hands occupied with food, it suddenly feels a lot like the time you entered Miguel’s lab and found him overwhelmed, upset, but more than anything, hurt at the discovery of hidden photos and videos of Gabby and his wife by Lyla. You recall the way it felt to have stepped into the lab and you wonder now if that’s what awaits for you because you quickly make up your mind.

You’re ignoring Jess’s message.

Two years ago, you would've simply oblige and made no questions. You would’ve try not to think about your boss and wonder what he did all day, wondered if anyone dropped off food for him, or if he even left the lab in his own discrete ways to eat and drink something, to nourish his body. You would've hoped that he'd at least let either Jess or Peter B. check on him.

Two years ago, you wouldn't had done it yourself nor pushed his boundaries because you were a simple member, not one of his close ones.

Two years ago, that would’ve been the end of it, even if you silently worried about Miguel from a distance.

Today? Things are different.

Two years ago Miguel and you hardly talked, hardly interacted.

Now, you're best friends, and best friends don't leave each other alone. They don't give up on you. They keep trying just like Miguel said Harry and your other former friends from a lifetime ago should’ve with you.

With a determined nod, you continue to make your way to Miguel's lab. As usual, there's other spider members walking around. You catch a few checking their gizmos, making you wonder if they’re reading Jess’s message regarding Miguel. You nod at a few, at least at those you're not too familiar with or who might be new. To those you do know and have more of a bond with, you give them a quick and simple greeting, not opening for conversation, not when you want to see Miguel already.

You turn the corner and it’s only thanks to your spidey senses going off that you don’t run into -

“Ben,” you say, recognizing him instantly.

Ben Reilly's eyebrows shoot up, surprise visible on his face. He shifts slightly. “Y/N… Hey.” He offers a smile, scratching his neck.

“Hey,” you greet him back, returning a small smile even though you're in a rush. “I'll see you around!” you say, walking around him, determined to reach your destination.

“Hey, Y/N!” Ben calls out, turning to face you quickly. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something…?”

You turn to face him, walking backwards with both your hands occupied with the food and drinks.

“Of course. Can we talk …” you trail off. “Later? I'm in the middle of something. I'm sorry,” you apologize softly.

He sighs subtly, his shoulders slumping just barely before he fixes his excellent posture. “I understand. I'll look for you later today.”

“Alright. That sounds good. I'll see you later, Ben. Careful if you go on missions!” You offer him a quick smile before you turn away once more and hurry off, leaving Ben behind.

He sighs again, running a hand through his hair that earns him a few glances of interest from other spider members. He watches you become smaller and smaller as you retrace steps you take each day.

Everyone knows where you're going and who you're seeking: the one person they were told to not disturb today.

That person’s door is closed to them but not for a few people like Jess Drew, Peter B. Parker, and now you.

He huffs and turns away, heading to the training sector for a workout session to sweat his frustrations away. He turns for one more glance, seeing you disappear into the elevator and heading for Miguel's floor.

You reach the lab doors, wondering if you’ll be turned away. A few seconds later, relief washes over you when Lyla confirms, after asking Miguel, that you can go in.

As far as Miguel knows, you have no idea what today is, so you offer him breakfast, which he thankfully accepts. You both sit on his elevated platform and eat in silence, legs dangling from it. As you eat, you remind yourself that you agreed to saying nothing, to pretend like you don’t know. You stay true to that even though your mind is a mess, even though you want to do more than just offer Miguel food.

However, you say nothing as you eat. Even after breakfast, you reveal nothing. You don’t want Miguel to feel pressured to say anything just because you know, behind his back. No, if he says anything, you hope it’s because Miguel is ready and comfortable doing so.

So, you stick with him for a while, working silently from your own area in the lab now knowing that his behavior has nothing to do with something you may have done or said, or your mere presence as you were worrying about yesterday. At some point you leave him because you’re needed by Jess, so you do so reluctantly.

For lunch time, it’s the same with the small difference that you both make small talk. The hours tick by and when you look at your gizmo, it’s suddenly three in the afternoon. Due to Jess’s warning, no one sends Miguel messages except for Jess, nor does anyone show up to the lab. It’s just Miguel, Lyla, and you.

You yourself get a few messages from the spider gang, asking if Miguel is alright and why you’ve been hiding at his lab all day. You reassure them both Miguel and you are physically alright. You don’t know what else to say. It’s not your place to share something so sensitive and personal, especially when you’re not supposed to even know.

Standing up, you stretch quietly, remembering that Ben Reilly wanted to talk to you. You figure you should make yourself available at least for an hour. He hasn’t sent you any messages, so you wonder if he’s already aware that you’ve been at Miguel’s lab for the majority of the day, hence the reason for the lack of messages from his end. You pack your things silently, shutting the laptop and fixing the area, which catches Miguel’s attention.

On his platform, he turns to look at you. Seeing you pack up makes him realize you’re probably not coming back because if you were, you would be leaving your desk as it was. Watching you push the chair under the desk only solidifies the fact.

“Heading… out?” Miguel asks, starting the conversation for the first time in days.

It catches you by surprise, so much it’s clearly expressed on your face. It immediately pains Miguel, to see how surprised you are that he’s talking to you. His hands close into fists at his sides, cursing mentally.

“… Yes,” you reply, picking up your empty cup. “I’m heading out.”

Miguel nods, his expression neutral but quickly morphing into a pained one.

“Migs…?” you say softly, quickly noticing his expression changing.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel whispers, looking away and unable to stop himself from thinking he’s undeserving of your nickname. A nickname, or a term of endearment, is a gesture from someone who cares about you, and here he is, hurting you with his behavior. Seeing the surprise look on your face just seconds ago solidifies that. Miguel’s guilt only intensifies as the look on your face flashes in his mind. You don’t hurt those that you care for and care about you, but now he has hurt you to some degree.

“Miguel?” you try again.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” Miguel says, exhaling deeply with a remorseful tone. “I’m … sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Hearing Miguel say that throws all ideas about leaving out the window. You place the cup down and make your way to him, his head hanging low.

“Miguel,” you say once more, gently.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, lifting his head enough so you can see his face.

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t apologize.”

“You deserve an apology,” Miguel replies. “I’ve been - I haven’t been in a good mood… I need to tell you something.”

“You don’t have to, Miguel,” you counter gently.

“I do. You deserve an explanation,” Miguel continues with a sigh, shaking his head in frustration at himself. “I saw the surprise on your face from me talking to you. You shouldn’t be surprised by that, but you are because I’ve been - a jerk.”

You sigh, standing on his platform. “You’re not a jerk, Miguel.” You state firmly. “I… I was wondering what was the matter,” you pause, wanting to be honest. “Don’t be mad at Lyla but… She told me a few hours ago. Some time before you returned to the penthouse this morning from the gym.”

“Lyla,” Miguel says, not even upset. “A part of me is relieved you already know… I should’ve told you sooner, but I couldn’t…” Miguel shakes his head, his eyes closed. He gulps softly. “It’s her birthday,” Miguel whispers, finally sharing from his own lips what has been on his mind all these past few days. ”Today is Gabby’s birthday.”

Nodding, you take a step closer. “I know,” you start. “I know it’s her birthday…” you reply, not knowing what else to say right now. To be honest, you weren’t expecting Miguel to tell you today. “I know it must be hard to share that,” you add softly.

Miguel sighs gently, nodding. “May I be honest?”

“Yeah, of course,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to be here right now.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you’re filled with worry instantly, for a second thinking that Miguel means something else, something much sadder, darker.

“I want to be home,” he goes on, clarifying. “I don’t want to be here, trying to distract myself from my thoughts about her.”

You sigh in relief, nodding. “We can go home, if you want?”

Miguel nods, wanting now more than ever to leave his lab. “Lyla, please let Jess know I’m going home,” Miguel says before correcting himself. “Let her know we’re both going home, dulzura and me.”

-♡-

Back at home, Miguel takes a shower while you begin to prepare an early dinner. You know that there’s essentially nothing in the whole multiverse that can lessen Miguel’s hurt today, but you hope that a homemade meal will sooth his heart just a little.

When he comes back downstairs, showered and dressed in lounging clothes, you fix him a plate before joining him. He doesn’t say anything else about Gabby, which you respect. You’re grateful he’s at least told you about Gabby’s birthday and that you’re both home eating together instead of him staying after hours at HQ before coming home and hiding at the gym.

Even after dinner and cleaning the kitchen, you’re unsure of what to do. You search for silent cues from Miguel. Does he want to be alone or is he okay with you being near him? You receive your answer when Miguel asks if you want to watch TV together, a question that leaves you a little surprised to start with, but one you answer with a “yes.”

You sit together in the living room. As always, you’re both on your respective couches.

Miguel watches the TV, or tries to. His attention is not fully on it for obvious reasons. Gabby is always on his mind, along with Gabriel, but due to her birthday coming up, she’s been even more so. He’s been thinking about it for days, about his little girl and how old she’d be turning today. It pains him so much, knowing she’s not here. He’s been trying to distract himself with work at HQ and then working out at the gym, going for hours so he doesn’t think about the fact that Gabby isn’t here - that she won’t be celebrating her birthday like she should.

He turns his head to look at the windows, the sun setting now. He’s reminded of yesterday when he was in his room after dinner. He found himself watching the sunset from there and in that short amount of time while the sun dipped, he thought about you. He heard you entering your room shortly after him and he wondered if you were watching it, too. He typed the message but before sending it, he changed his mind.

Miguel turns to look at you now, sitting on the couch, keeping him company. His guilt washes over him again at the sight. You denied it earlier but he’s such a jerk for the way he’s been behaving, there’s no way to deny it, at least not in his eyes.

He sighs. He promised he was going to try, didn’t he? He promised for Gabby and Gabriel. He was going to try to heal, to move forward.

It’s that thought that compels Miguel to stand up from the couch, telling you that he’d be back before heading upstairs.

You simply nod and stay in place, hoping Miguel truly does come back. To your relief, Miguel returns a few minutes later, holding a guitar.

You recognize it instantly from Miguel’s ofrenda [altar] for Día de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] as Miguel approaches you, who then takes a seat on the ground next to you. You join him a few seconds later without a doubt, watching him hold the guitar carefully.

“It’s the only thing… The only physical reminder I have left of Gabby. It was pure… Coincidence that I still have it,” Miguel shares, staring at the guitar. “A day before her universe collapsed, she asked me to fix the strings for her, so I brought it to HQ to work on it. Unfortunately, there were a lot of things happening that day. It was one thing or another. Every time I lifted it to begin working on it, something or someone would pop up and prevent me from doing so. I ended up forgetting it at HQ that day. With so much happening, I left it in my lab. It was much later when I remembered it. That last night. When I got back to her universe just in time for school to be out, she didn’t ask for it. She was so tired from the school day, she didn’t remember it. Not even later in the afternoon when she was done with school work and was free to do what she wanted, whether that was coloring, or playing with her toys, or practicing the guitar. It was me who remembered it when I tucked her in for the night.”

Miguel brushes his fingers over the strings, gently. “I told myself I’d fix the guitar as soon as I got to the lab, so I could take it back to her… So I could hear her play it in the afternoon the next day.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I had no idea that would be the last night… ever.”

Miguel doesn’t know why, but suddenly he feels like talking about that last night. He’s shared with you the last morning he spent with Gabby, just hours before one of the worst moments of his life took place.

“I used to think… After losing Gabriel, that nothing could ever hurt me as much. That there was nothing much worse that could happen to me. Nothing could ever, make me feel so much sorrow, grief, pain - and I was wrong. I never thought that I’d become a dad,” Miguel states, looking over the guitar, at the stickers that Gabby placed on it. “I never thought that I’d experience that, much less the loss of a child. I think - I know - a part of me always believed I was unworthy of such thing. I wasn’t meant for that life. Wasn’t meant to experience it. I was destined to be alone,” he continues. “And then she happened, and she - she was and continues to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve had the privilege of experiencing.”

Miguel shifts slightly, knowing you’re listening to him, like always.

“That last night, my wife and I cooked dinner. It was a normal evening, like any other. Gabby did her homework, got to play with her dolls afterwards. She had a lot, you know, but her favorites were the doctor and scientist dolls. Part of it was because they looked like her, and another part because of their professions.” Miguel smiles slightly, a sad smile. “In the short time I had with her, I always told her so. How they were mini versions of her in the future because she was so bright, so smart. I’d always tell her that she could do and be anything she wanted. I never once dampened her dreams nor her aspirations. I wanted her to know that she could be a scientist, or she could be a teacher, or she could be a bakery owner. It didn’t matter. As long as she wanted it and worked towards it, she could achieve anything, but I digress,” Miguel says, realizing he’s all over the place.

“She played with her dolls and showered afterwards. I arranged her school stuff for the morning. I always helped her prep her outfit the night before to save time in the morning, and made sure her backpack was set with her assistance to help her build responsibility, too, though I never struggled with that. She was so responsible for her age. She watched some TV that evening, and then, it was time for bed. I never missed bedtime,” Miguel continues, a fond smile on his face, his fingers splayed over the guitar.

“I loved tucking her in, reading to her. I’d climb into the bed to read to her sometimes. It was always a struggle, of course, and my back would be tense in the mornings, but it was worth it. So worth it. What I’d give… to repeat those moments. To be back in that cheerful bedroom and have her ask questions while seeking the comfort of her father… of her daddy.” Miguel sighs, thinking about that. How his heart would swell with a pure happiness unlike any other when she called him “dad” or “daddy.”

“I read to her that night and soon, she was drifting off. Sus ojitos [her little eyes; little is used as endearment, not meaning she had small eyes]… Her little eyes would flutter, trying to fight off the sleep to keep talking about the book. She’d blink real hard,” Miguel says with a soft chuckle, inhaling deeply and shakily. “Thinking it’d help her stay awake longer, but my little girl, she eventually doze off into a peaceful slumber with no worries. I was grateful for that, you know?” Miguel says turning to look at you. “There is no doubt in my mind that the original Miguel of that dimension was grateful for that, too. Gabby didn’t know what it was like to be ripped away from a peaceful dream because of your parents’ arguing in the living room. Nor did she have to worry about a younger sibling coming to her room to seek her comfort. I was always grateful that Miguel, the original of that dimension, had succeeded in providing such a safe space for her. And I was set on doing the same for her. I succeeded, too. So… she dozed off. I held her close,” Miguel whispers, recalling how it felt to hold his sleeping daughter in his arms.

“I remember thinking, ‘just a few more minutes. One day she’ll be all grown up, she may not want her dad’s affection anymore because she finds it embarrassing or uncool.’ So, I did. I stayed there with her. Now I wonder, if something deep inside me felt the danger coming. If I had sensed it somehow and I wanted to hold on to that moment - to her - just a little longer because something in me knew... knew that that would be the very last time I’d ever get to hold her like that, in such calm manner because the next day would be the very last time I held her, but under much different circumstances. That it’d be outside the comfort of her home with hundreds of frightened people running around us, seeking a safety that I couldn’t give to them because I didn’t understand what was happening.”

“Miguel,” you whisper gently, knowing to this day he blames himself for the collapse of Gabriella’s universe despite there being no evidence of such thing.

“I know,” he whispers back. “You’re too kind to me, so you don’t think I had something to do with it, but… my brain tells me so.”

“We still don’t know, you know that. There’s no evidence that suggests you did. Just because you were there, doesn’t mean you were responsible. It doesn’t make sense when so many of us have done the same, and yet those universes are still… here.” You inhale softly, hating the fact that Miguel still blames himself. You know it’s something that will take him time to let go, maybe until there’s further evidence that suggests otherwise. In Miguel’s mind, it’s not ‘innocent until proven guilty.’

It’s guilty until proven innocent.

“It probably doesn’t mean anything,” you start. “Because I know how these feelings can be rooted deep in us, despite any comforting words… but I don’t think you had anything to do with it, Miguel.”

He looks at you then, the pain in his eyes visible. “But what if it was me? I took everything from her. If I had stayed away - her universe might still be intact. She would be alive. She’d be celebrating today like she ought to,” Miguel says with desperation in his tone. “I ruined it. I should’ve never gone. I should’ve let things carry on like they were supposed to,” he insists.

“Miguel,” you say his name again but this time not in a whisper. You speak firmly, evenly. You almost lift your hand to place it on his shoulder but you remember not to. “I’m not saying that only because you’re my best friend,” you continue. “I wholeheartedly believe that you weren’t the cause. You’re not responsible for it. There’s something we’ve overlooked, the real cause. I have no doubt one day we’ll discover it, and it’ll show you that you were not at fault.”

“But what if I was?” he repeats. “She could’ve been alive today.”

“I’ve told you I don’t believe you are responsible. You know that, Miguel, but maybe there’s a chance she might have still been alive, if it wasn’t for the true cause of her universe’s collapse.” Next to you, Miguel huffs in frustration, as if he’s upset at your relentless faith that he had nothing to do with it. It frustrates you, the fact that he thinks you’re just trying to sooth his guilt. “Do you think it’s my fault Peter… passed away?”

That makes Miguel turn before he lowers the guitar to his lap. “What - no, of course not, dulzura. It wasn’t your fault,” he says, brows furrowed.

“Are you only saying that to make me feel better? Because we’re best friends?”

“Dulzura… No, of course not. It wasn’t your fault, and I mean that.”

“Then, can you believe that when I tell you that I don’t think you are responsible, I don’t say it only to make you feel better? Can you believe that I say it because I really do believe it?” you ask, holding his gaze with such a serious face that leaves no room for doubt or questioning.

Miguel blinks, keeping his gaze on you for several seconds. His gaze searches your face, so serious. He silently decides he doesn’t like such look on you - he prefers to see you smile, prefers the brightness in your eyes when you’re happy, when you’re in good spirits, but that serious face… Miguel sees you truly believe what you’re saying. You’re not only saying it to make him feel better, to reassure him, and lessen his guilt and pain. At last, he nods slowly.

“I can… a part of me can, but another part of me still feels an incredible guilt that I swear will never fade, no matter how much time passes,” he states softly. “I think about what she could’ve had, where she could’ve been. What she’d be in the future, the amazing things she could’ve done, and experienced.”

You sigh softly and nod. With deceased loved ones, there’s always those questions, especially when they pass away too soon, when there was so much for them to live and experience. You yourself have thought about Peter and all the things he never had the opportunity to experience nor accomplish. Then, there’s also the things that he didn’t even get a chance to wish for, or dream about. By now, he may have accomplished all his previous goals and dreams, and he might have been on to newer ones, but you’ll never know now. Still, you know that for however long he was alive, he lived a good life despite the few tragedies he experienced early on in life. He was a happy man, and he loved and was loved deeply.

“I know it’s a different age with Peter. He had the opportunity to live more but… That always hurt me to think about, too,” you admit. “About all the goals and dreams he had, about the ones he didn’t even get to think of.” You pause, looking at your hand for a few seconds. “A wise man once said, that seven years count the same as seventy, even seven hundred.” Looking up again, you find Miguel’s crimson eyes on the same hand you were just staring at before he lifts his gaze to yours. He raises an eyebrow, wondering, so you continue.

“Someone may live to ninety years and we think, ‘Wow. They’re so lucky.’ We imagine they lived and experienced so much, but that’s not always the case. Someone who only got to live nine or twenty-three years old may have lived more than the ninety year old person has. Just because we’ve had more years to live doesn’t mean we’ve actually lived, not for all of them,” you say softly, looking away. “I didn’t live for many years. I stopped when I lost Peter.”

Hearing you say that breaks Miguel’s heart, brings him so much pain.

“It’s probably… stupid and maybe even cringe,” you say with a smile and shrug, which for some reason pains Miguel even more. “My heart functioned, and I was alive, but I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t actually live over that time. And I didn’t even realize until much later, when I joined the Spider Society, how dull I had truly become. There’s still moments, even now, when I realize that all over again. Like, when I look at sunsets and realize I looked at sunsets during those times but I wasn’t really looking at them… if that makes sense. It was as if I was looking through a screen, someone else’s life. And then, I started to learn to live again. So… I’m sure you know where I’m getting at with this,” you say, looking at him again, at last.

“Gabby may have only lived for nine years but every single one of them counted as living. Her biological father, from what you’ve shared, loved her so much and gave her a safe and comfortable life with so much love, which you continue when you stepped up to be her dad. In her nine years of life… She knew and most importantly, felt, the important things. Unconditional love. Comfort. Happiness. Safety. That’s more than some ninety, or even forty year old have ever experienced despite being alive for several decades… because they haven’t lived. I wish Peter… Gabby, Gabriel - were here now. That they were able to still be here and live longer. That wish will never fade, not truly, I don’t think, but personally?” You offer Miguel a smile. “I’m thankful Peter knew and felt all those things - that he was able to experience them when so many don’t.”

With that, you look away and lean back on the couch, allowing Miguel to either absorb your words, or reject them.

“She was loved,” Miguel states almost a minute later of silence. “She was so loved. By both her biological dad, and then me. I’m grateful for that,” he whispers. “I’m grateful she knew love, kindness. That she knew happiness, comfort, and safety. Like every child should.” Whispering that, Miguel sighs. His head lowers to look at the guitar, his mind flooded with memories of Gabby being happy. He can’t help but feel a new wave of guilt at the fact that on a day that she’d be very happy on, he’s feeling this way.

Like a bolt of lightning, he’s reminded of Gabriel suddenly, of his words, to be exact, from his dream a year ago. He asked Miguel to live for them. Then, there’s also your words from a few weeks ago when you witnessed one of his nightmares for the first time. You said to honor them - to live how they would live if they were here.

Thinking about that, Miguel clears his throat. “You always bake a cake for Peter on his birthday.”

“I do,” you reply, looking over at him with curiosity. You didn’t expect the sudden change of conversation.

“You do it because that’s what you would’ve done if he was still around.”

“Yes.”

Miguel nods, thinking. He’s never bought or baked a cake for Gabriel or his mother. He’s never celebrated their birthdays after they passed away. That includes Gabriella.

He looks down at his gizmo. It’s not too late… Surely a bakery is still open. Maybe they still have cakes.

“Miguel?” you ask softly, noticing him looking at his gizmo.

“I… I think I want to buy her a cake,” he says looking up at you.

“You… do?”

Miguel nods, rapidly realizing he really wants to do this. “Yes. I want to. She deserves it.” He places the guitar on the coffee table and begins to stand up. “I’m going to check the bakeries and see if I can find a cake she’d like. Maybe I’ll have luck.”

Noticing Miguel begin to stand up, you stand up, too, and before you can stop yourself, you make an offer. “I can bake her one, if you want.”

Miguel freezes, looking at you. “You?… Really?” he asks, his entire face softening and lighting up. His tone is gentle, filled with awe and wonder, as if you’ve just made him the greatest offer in history.

With a nod, you smile and reply. “Yes, really. We can bake one together, if you want to help. You know I love baking, so I have almost anything I could need to bake a cake. Just say the word, Migs,” you answer softly.

The nickname, your smile, and offer brings a smile to Miguel’s face. He nods slowly, standing completely now. “Si, por favor [yes, please]. That would mean so much to me… and Gabby.”

You gesture to the kitchen. “C’mon.”

Miguel follows after you, carrying Gabby’s guitar, so precious to him.

You set the oven to preheat, already knowing how to use it since you’ve baked a lot at the penthouse since you’ve lived here. You have Miguel decide the shape, so you find the round cake mold when he politely requests a round one. He retrieves the mixer and the few ingredients he knows will be used, letting you tell him what else is needed so he can help.

As you stated, you have a little of everything so you give him plenty of options for the type of bread, filling, and icing.

Miguel quickly decides the filling should be out of strawberries since Gabby loved them, apparently they were her favorite fruit. For the actual bread, he decides to go with chocolate - it was also a favorite of little Gabby.

Once that’s settled, you begin working with the help of Miguel though your years of baking do not require it. You let him though because you know it’s special to him. It’s for his little girl, after all. So you let him pour the ingredients into the mixing bowl while you work on other things towards the cake.

The more you move through the process together, the more Miguel slowly begins to tell you about Gabby. It’s as if his mind is flooded with random little memories all fighting for his attention. You listen intently to every word, smiling and chuckling with him when he tells you something funny she did or said once.

He’s already shared some of the moments he talks about, but you still listen to him, noticing the glimmer of happiness in his eyes while talking about his Gabby.

As you bake and Miguel shares with you all these moments, you picture them in your head. You see Miguel carrying Gabby on his shoulders, her toothy smile on display. You see Gabby giggling when Miguel accidentally let go of the hair tie and it snapped against his finger while doing her hair. There’s Miguel making Gabby Choco Milk in her favorite cup, and the one time Gabby asked where babies came from out of nowhere, which Miguel didn’t know how to answer in the moment, so he told her he’d find that out and let her know later on.

“What about music?” you ask softly when you pull the pan out of the oven a while later. “What did she like? You’ve mentioned her favorite song before… ‘Luna de Xelajú’, but what else did she like?”

Miguel smiles softly at the fact that you remember her favorite song. “That was her favorite song, yes. She liked other songs, of course. Different genres and artists of all ages. She even liked Joan Sebastian,” Miguel says amused. “She sang some of his songs like she understood matters of the heart already. Then, there were some that always made her dance, like this song called ‘No rompas mi corazón’ - there’s a dance for it. It’s played at parties sometimes,” Miguel shares, not sure if you’re familiar with it.

“It’s something like this,” Lyla says popping out of nowhere, showing you a video of people dancing at a party.

“I know of it,” you say with a smile, not surprised that Lyla has made an appearance. She tends to pop up sometimes out of nowhere when both Miguel and you least expect her. “So Gabby danced to it?”

“Yeah, she’d hear it and it’s like her feet were tingling to move. She’d get so excited every time it came on,” he says with a smile. “She’d dance and look at me and say ‘¡mira, mira, papá! [look, look, papa]’… But there was one artist she absolutely adored, her favorite artist. Selena.”

“Selena?” you ask, surprised. Of course you know of her. “A version of her existed in Gabby’s universe?”

“Yes, but unlike in so many universes where her life is cut short, this version peacefully passed away before Gabby was born out of old age. She had a large and happy family. Gabby told me so,” Miguel says. “She knew a lot about her.”

“What was her favorite song of hers?”

Miguel smiles. “It was ‘Baila Esta Cumbia’ - she’d dance to it, too.”

“Do you want me to… play it?” Lyla asks Miguel while you work on the cake, wondering what his answer will be. It might be too soon for him.

Miguel stays silent for several seconds, thinking. It’s been so long since he’s heard the song, or any of the music that Gabby used to enjoy listening.

“Lyla can always turn it off,” you offer softly as you work, glancing at him for a few seconds before continuing to work on the cake. “If you decide to.”

He hums softly at your words, drumming his fingers against his thigh. At last, he nods to Lyla and a few seconds later, the upbeat song begins to play, filling the kitchen and lifting the mood.

Miguel watches you work on the cake, his finger tapping against his thigh to the beat, thinking about Gabby.

“If only she were here now,” he mumbles softly. He wonders if she’d still like the song, or if she’d have a new favorite song by Selena, if she’d still even be a fan of Selena to begin with. He wonders, just like he wonders about other things, what her music taste would be like now.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter and interlocking his fingers to press against his forehead, looking at the counter surface for a few seconds before closing his eyes and just listening to the song.

He can pretend for a few seconds that she’s here, that she’s singing happily to the song and doing her little dances. He hears the ‘eh, eh, eh,’ part and recalls how she’d sing that part, clapping her small hands to it.

He uncovers his face, lowering his hands to the counter. “You heard that part? The ‘eh, eh, eh?’ She used to clap along with it,” Miguel shares, smiling softly. “She was always so elated when it played. It cheered her up.”

Miguel makes it without crying for the rest of the song, so Lyla deems it safe to play other songs she thinks are appropriate for what could’ve been Gabby’s birthday party. She keeps it light with the music as you work on the cake while Miguel shares other tidbits of Gabby.

After some time, you add the last candle before turning it around so Miguel can see it, his eyes softening immediately at the finished cake.

“What do you think?” you ask him as his eyes take in every detail about it.

He nods, eyebrows knitted gently before he turns his attention to you, smiling tenderly. “It’s… Beautiful, dulzura,” he states softly, his tone full of sincerity. “It’s so Gabby. She would’ve loved it, I know that. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispers accepting the cake as you hand it to him with a warm smile, happy that Miguel likes the cake.

You find a lighter and reach Miguel’s side, not worried about washing dishes since Miguel got most of them while you were working to help, and even then, neither of you would’ve cared in order to celebrate.

At last, you both look at it, at the completed cake, sitting side by side while music still plays in the background.

Miguel continues to observe it, admiring your work with the details like the little bees and the sprinkle of lilac flowers. He doesn’t fail to notice the color you used to write ‘Happy Birthday, Gabby!!’ with - the color Selena was most known for, that rich purple.

“She…” Miguel starts, his voice soft and quiet, as he thinks about her. About Gabby. “She would’ve loved it.” He whispers, a knot forming in his throat. “Thank you - she would’ve loved it, so much.”

“The bees and her favorite color,” you say. “I thought she might have.”

“She would. She really would,” Miguel replies lifting a hand to his face. He tries to be subtle about it, but from your peripheral vision, you can see the action, the way he wipes at his eye.

You feel tears yourself but for Miguel, you try to stay calm, try to be strong. However, seeing someone you care for so much cry has never made it easy. A few tears pool in your eyes, blurring your vision. Biting your bottom lip because you feel it quivering, you dab at your eyes gently, trying to make the gesture subtle, too.

“Do you want me to…?” you ask raising the lighter.

Miguel turns, sniffling. Noticing the lighter, he nods. “… Please,” he whispers.

Miguel doesn’t need to say anything else. His simple response is all you need, so you lit the candles carefully, watching the cake come to life with their flickering.

You both stare at it, unbeknownst to either of you, imagining the same thing: a Gabriella standing behind the counter, her eyes lit up with happiness, her face illuminated by the gentle glow of the candles. There’s a beautiful, toothy smile on her face as she listens to the people around her sing happy birthday before she gets to make a wish and blow the candles.

You can imagine Miguel taking pictures from the very back to avoid blocking anyone's views due to his height with a happy, warm, and sweet smile on his face to see his little girl turn one year older.

Then, there's Gabby looking at the camera still smiling once she has made her wish, guests cheering and clapping.

And maybe, just to keep up with traditions - Miguel would gently get a little bit of icing on Gabby’s nose with his hand, but remaining alert that no one tries to push his daughter into the cake.

“Están son… las mañanitas [these are… the beloved mornings],” Miguel starts singing, his voice low. “Que cantaba el rey David. Hoy por ser día de tu santo, te las cantamos a ti. Despierta - [That King David sang. Today being your saint’s day (same as birthday), we sing them for you. Wake up -]” Miguel pauses, inhaling sharply. “Mi niña, despierta. Mira que ya amaneció… ya los pajaritos cantan, la luna ya se metió [My little girl, wake up. Look, the sun is up… the little birds sing, the moon is gone]…” he sings softly, trailing off.

The next part of the song carries on, credit to Lyla. She starts playing it from where Miguel left off, Vicente Fernandez's voice filling the kitchen.

You sit by, listening to the music and how Miguel sings a song he's known and sang many times in his childhood for friends and Gabriel, but one he never had the opportunity to sing for Gabby.

Despite wanting to join him, you let Miguel do it on his own, respecting he’d want to do so.

“Con jazmines y flores, este día quiero adornar. Hoy, por ser día de tu santo, te venimos a cantar [With jasmine and flowers, this day I want to decorate. Today, for being your saint’s day, we come to sing],” Miguel finishes at last, his voice just a tad louder than when he first started. He clears his throat, wiping some tears from his eyes.

“Do you want to sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ too?” you ask gently.

“… Yeah, would you…?” he asks taking a moment to swallow. “Join me?”

Of course, you nod. How could you ever decline Miguel when it comes to his daughter? Never.

And so, the two of you sing to Gabby.

”Cha, cha, cha” Miguel adds at the end. He turns to face you, his cheeks dusted with redness. “We always did that in the family at the end. Right before the ‘queremos pastel’ and ‘que lo parta’ - Gabriel used to love that when he was little [we want cake; cut it (referring to the cake)],” Miguel shares a fond smile on his face, his eyes misty with tears before turning to look at the cake again.

By this point, the birthday girl should’ve made her wish and blown the candles. He swallows harshly, realizing. Someone needs to blow the candles. He pulls the cake closer to himself, feeling the heat from the candles. He turns to look at you then, a sudden thought popping into his mind.

“I was going to blow the candles… Would you like to do it with me?” Miguel asks softly, his eyes searching your face for any discomfort. He knows he might be asking for too much already. You’ve done so much by baking the cake, by being so thoughtful with the details that he has no doubt Gabby would’ve loved and gushed about.

Now, he’s asking this extra thing from you, asking you to join him in blowing the birthday candles for someone you didn’t have the opportunity to meet, but the way you talk about Gabby and how you look at her pictures on the wall lets Miguel know you care about her as if you had known her personally.

And not just Gabriella, but Gabriel, too. You’ve told him how you wish they were around, so you could’ve met them and known them, something that always makes his heart swell with tenderness and happiness. How he wishes they were around for that, too, to meet you.

Knowing how you feel about two of the most important people in his life, makes Miguel feel a little less worried. Still, he searches your face to make sure he isn’t placing you in an uncomfortable position. However, when he meets your eyes, he finds no discomfort at all.

You nod gently. “If you wish me to.”

“Yes, please. If you’re okay with it,” he replies, still holding your gaze, giving you an option.

“I’m okay with it... In honor of Gabby,” you respond warmly, images of the little girl still flashing in your mind, thinking how much different this would be if she was here.

Miguel might still have tears in his eyes, but they’d be happy ones. Maybe a little bittersweet knowing that his kid is growing older, but he’d be happy because he gets to celebrate his daughter - because he’s a dad and he has family.

You wonder if some spider members, like the spider gang, would’ve been invited to the party, whether it’d be a small or medium size gathering. You wonder what the decorations might be like. Miguel would’ve gone all out, no corners cut to celebrate, no doubt. He would’ve probably blown balloons and stuck decorations on the walls. He would’ve planned the party for weeks, so it would be perfect for Gabby.

He would’ve ordered a cake with plenty of time to make sure there were no problems. If he was unable to pick it up himself, he would’ve sent his most trusted person to pick it up. Probably not Miles after he share the incident with his dad’s cakes when he became captain though.

Maybe it would’ve been Jess if she was available. Or, maybe even Ben Reilly. Maybe his wife if they were still together.

Or maybe, he would’ve asked you if you were still friends in this alternative scenario.

Either way, the cake would’ve been left to someone trustworthy while Miguel got other things completed. There would’ve probably been party hats passed out, the penthouse filled with people. You wonder what Miguel would have ordered for food, or whether he might have cooked it himself because Gabby requested her favorite foods for her birthday.

You think back to Dia de los Muertos [Day of the Dead] and the foods Miguel offered for Gabby’s ofrenda [altar]. Would she had requested some of those foods? You remember she especially loved Miguel’s breakfasts, specifically pancakes with chocolate chips.

Perhaps Miguel would’ve made that for her this morning. He would’ve woken up early, but not to head to HQ. No, the reason why Miguel would’ve woken up early would’ve been to make Gabriella her favorite breakfast, if it was the same to this day, of course. He would’ve cooked for her and then woken her up at an appropriate time, las mañanitas [the birthday song, Mexico’s version] playing thanks to Lyla.

You imagine her waking up, the sleepiness wearing off her face as she realizes it’s her birthday. Perhaps Miguel met her at her bed, giving her a tight bear hug, wondering how it’s possible that his daughter has turned a year older, wondering where time is going, hoping that she doesn’t grow up too soon.

He may have pushed his thoughts away, trying to avoid the bittersweet feelings and focusing on making sure that Gabby’s birthday is perfect, so he’d tell her to come to the kitchen only to surprise her with favorite breakfast, hinting at a special day ahead with the birthday party scheduled for the afternoon. And oh, you know he would’ve left HQ early. Nothing, no mission or anomaly, would’ve prevented him from making it to his daughter’s party.

You sigh softly at the thoughts, the wishes for Miguel and Gabby. How you wish they could’ve had today.

Maybe in another universe, still undiscovered by the Spider Society, a Miguel had the privilege of doing that with another version of Gabby today.

“One… Two…” Miguel counts softly, thinking of what could’ve been today - of all the ways he would’ve made sure today was perfect for his daughter. If only they could’ve had today. If only they could’ve had a full lifetime.

“Three,” you both whisper before leaning forward and blowing the candles.

You both watch as the small trails of smoke rise above the cake, leaning back once more.

“Feliz Cumpleaños, mija [Happy Birthday, my daughter],” Miguel whispers tenderly. “I hope wherever you are… That you’re celebrating with Miguel and your uncle Gabriel. Maybe with your grandmother Conchata, too, if she’s available. Te quiero, y te sigo extrañando. Como siempre [I love you, and I keep missing you. Like always].”

“Happy Birthday, Gabby…” you say gently after gulping a small knot in your throat due to Miguel’s words. “I hope you’re having a lovely day with Gabriel and your other dad. I hope there’s lots of pan dulce [Mexican sweet bread], especially pink conchas [seashell shaped pan dulce], and your favorite Mexican candy.”

Miguel chuckles, ducking his head to wipe the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Pink conchas and Mexican candy. That would make her day,” he says straightening up, smiling despite the tears. He dries them again, sighing. He turns to look at you, filled with ternura [tenderness]. “Thank you for your sweet words, for agreeing to blow the candles with me, for the cake…” He pauses. “Thank you for everything. I hope you know how much it means to me, how much I appreciate it - thank you, dulzura,” he whispers gently, sincerely.

You smile at him, nodding. “Always, Miguel,” you whisper.

He smiles softly before it fades, his expression turning to an apologetic one. “The last few days…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply.

“No, I do,” he states firmly, shifting closer. He turns his body to face you fully, his legs touching your leg closest to him. “I… want to say I’m sorry. I haven’t been… It’s been a few hard days knowing her birthday was coming up, and I… It still hurts,” he says. “It still hurts and instead of talking about it with you, I just - partially shut down, like I used to before… You,” Miguel confesses. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable the last few days, making it seem like I didn’t want to be around you. I wanted to but I didn’t want to burden you with all of this.” He sighs. “I didn’t want to cast my rain on you.”

“Cast your rain on me?” you question, tilting your head to the side. “You know that’s… what friends are for.” You give him a reassuring smile. “I understand though… About it hurting and shutting down. It’s okay,” you reassure Miguel. “And you don’t need to apologize. I was worried but… I understand.”

“I do need to apologize,” Miguel insists. “If it was you, I would’ve…” Miguel trails off, scratching his neck. “I would’ve felt that you were pushing me away without a reason. I never want to make you feel like that,” he shares unable to look you in the eyes, so he focuses on the cake again while he speaks. He reads Gabby’s name on it before turning back to you. “I’m sorry, dulzura. I’m still learning.”

“It’s alright, Miguel,” you tell him again. “Should we… cut the cake?”

“You refuse to accept my apology,” he says, brows furrowed.

“Is that necessary?”

“It was a jerk move.”

“I don’t see it that way, but if it makes you feel better, apology accepted,” you reply, flashing him a small smile. “I appreciate your apology, and your willingness to share what’s been going on.”

Miguel nods at that, relieved that you’ve accepted his apology for the way he’s been acting recently.

You nod back, still smiling.“Cake time?”

“Cake time,” Miguel answers with a small smile.

You both turn your attention to the cake again just in time to see two candles sparkling and then flickering back to full life for a few seconds before they go out again, on their own.

With knitted eyebrows, you turn to look at each other, equally surprised by the short moment before turning your attention back to the cake.

As you remain sitting, watching the cake, the mood changes to a significantly lighter one, as if something physically tugged a heavy cloak from your shoulders to relieve them.

For a few seconds, neither of you say anything, basking in the new and light atmosphere that descends on the two of you like falling leaves in autumn.

“I’ll get the knife and plates,” you say breaking the silence after a few seconds.

“I’ll get us drinks and utensils,” Miguel replies before you both gather everything on the counter and prepare to cut the cake.

You hand him the knife so he can do the honors but at the last second he pulls back. “Wait,” he says. “Before I cut it - Lyla?”

“Yes, jefe [boss]?” Lyla says appearing in front of you.

“Can you… Can you take a photo of it?” Miguel asks her.

With a little grin, Lyla nods. “I got you covered. I’ve already taken a few…” she admits. “But I’ll take one more.” With that, she takes one more photo, which she displays for you to see. “What do we think? You outdid yourself, D, by the way.”

“D?” Miguel and you say at the same time.

Lyla turns and smirks. “Well, Miguel gave you ‘Dulzura,' so I figured I could call you D.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure if you’re up for that.

“I don’t think that’s…” Miguel trails off, not liking it himself, but at least Lyla isn’t trying to call you dulzura either. For some reason the idea of someone else calling you that, even if it’s his own AI assistant, rubs him the wrong way, but he doesn’t say that. “I think… Maybe consider something else.“

“Fine. I see neither of you are happy with it. You outdid yourself, Y/N. There. Better?” Lyla says rolling her eyes. “The longer you two spend time together, the more you team up against me. It’s so unfair.”

Miguel and you chuckle.

“And now they’re laughing at me. Humans,” Lyla mumbles under her breath. “Are you cutting the cake or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re cutting the cake,” Miguel says. “Thank you for taking the photo, L.”

“L?” Lyla repeats, offended.

“It’s for Lyla,” you say with a smile, making Miguel smirk softly since you’re following along with his teasing.

“You’re not calling me ‘L’ - I reject that,” Lyla replies, crossing her arms over chest.

“We’ll think of another nickname then,” Miguel replies, positioning the knife to cut the cake at last.

“Finally!” Lyla says. “Queremos pastel [we want cake]!”

“Queremos pastel [we want cake],” Miguel repeats, lowering the knife, imagining for a second that Gabby is the one cutting it, not him. He imagines himself taking photos from the back to capture the moment. “Queremos pastel, pastel, pastel [we want cake, cake, cake].”

You smile, listening to Miguel say ‘we want cake’ as he finally slices it. Lyla and you clap softly, which warms Miguel’s heart.

“Happy Birthday, Gabby!” Lyla says, smiling fondly at the cake. “I wish I could eat cake,” she adds frowning.

“You have no idea what you’re missing out on,” Miguel says with a smile as he cuts two slices, one for each of you.

“You don’t have to rub it in, Miguel,” she replies with a huff as she watches Miguel fix you a plate first, carefully placing it in front of you before fixing his own.

You wait until Miguel has his plate ready and then, you both try the cake at the same time.

You both sigh in content as the flavors melt in your mouth, pleased with it. Of course, there was no doubt in your minds that it was going to be good, especially not in Miguel’s mind. He loves your baking and cooking, but especially your baking since it satisfies his sweet tooth. So he had no doubt your baking was going to be excellent as always.

You both go for a second slice, which you take to the living room for more comfort after storing the remainder of the cake away. Miguel brings Gabby’s guitar along, placing it next to him on the floor. You’ve returned to the same spots from earlier, sitting side by side on the ground.

Lyla disappeared at some point while Miguel served the second slices, unusually quiet as she glanced between you before flickering away, so it’s just the two of you and light music for now as you eat your extra slices of cake.

Finishing with his, Miguel clears his throat and carefully dabs his mouth clean with a napkin. He rests his back on the couch, smiling gently as he watches you bring the fork to your mouth to eat.

“As always, your baking was incredible,” he compliments you. “Thank you for baking it. I believe Gabby would’ve loved it.”

“I’m happy and flattered to hear that,” you reply with a smile.

“She would be - probably giving you a lot of hugs right now.”

That makes you smile brighter, a warm feeling in your chest grows at the simple idea of Gabby loving her birthday cake so much that she’d give you a hug, or multiple.

“I would’ve accepted every single one of them,” you answer, still smiling.

“And returned them,” Miguel adds, knowing you so well. “You would’ve returned every single hug Gabby gave you and then add one or two more.”

“You know me too well,” you say chuckling before you take a sip from your glass. “I would’ve.”

Miguel picks up the guitar, a small smile on his face still. He brushes his fingers against the strings, thinking.

“The last few days were hard, knowing that her birthday was approaching. It’s hard, still,” he says, looking at it. “I didn’t expect for it to hurt less so soon, of course, but it always hurts to think she didn’t turn a year older, even if that would’ve been bittersweet.”

“In a way, I think I know what that would’ve felt like,” Miguel continues, his lips almost pouting. “I watched Gabriel grow older before my own eyes and it always made me feel bittersweet, to see my little brother grow older. I imagine I would’ve felt something similar with Gabby… but it’s not only that that hurts. It hurts that I can’t visit her somewhere. There’s nowhere for me to go. To visit her. I can go and visit my mom and Gabriel, but Gabriella… She’s gone. Really gone. There’s no resting place for her - because there’s no… her,” Miguel whispers, looking at the guitar in his hands.

To think he was the last one to hold her, his arms were the last thing she felt. “I was the last one to hold her. The last thing she felt… were my arms around her. That’s brought me some… comfort over time. She didn’t suffer in her last moments, not physically. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she had.” Miguel’s eyes shut tight, his head lowering. He would’ve hated himself so much more than he does already for not stopping what happened.

After several seconds of silence, he opens his eyes. “But as I was saying… there’s nowhere to see her. Nowhere to offer her flowers. I would visit her every day if there was. I would change her flowers every few days. I would’ve visited today and taken some things for her but there’s nowhere to go.”

You listen intently to Miguel, nodding as he talks. The very same thought has come to your mind before, about how Gabby doesn’t have a resting place, somewhere for Miguel to visit her. You remember thinking about it a while back, imagining how much harder it would be for someone like Miguel to heal from his loss when there’s no resting place for Gabby because her universe collapsed.

“It’s something I think about often, but I can’t do anything about it,” Miguel says playing a few strings.

You hum softly, staying quiet for a few moments and simply watching Miguel as his fingers move over the strings, not playing. “I can imagine, Miguel,” you reply gently after some seconds.

You look over to the wall, your gaze finding the photographs you helped Miguel hang not too long ago. It’s become a special spot for him in the penthouse, a detail that’s given the place a much warmer vibe along with the other changes Miguel has made.

Your eyes move to the console table attached to the same wall, decorated with a simply abstract figure. It’s a spot neither of you have thought about spicing up with Miguel trying to redecorate.

“I know you said there’s nowhere to go… But what if…” you trail off, the idea still forming in your head.

“What if…?” Miguel repeats, wondering what you’re thinking about. He’s both curious and excited to hear whatever is on your mind, something that might give him some comfort regarding the situation.

“What if you give her a place here?” you continue, nodding to the console table. “Her special place for you to visit her per say, close to you, here in your home.”

His eyes light up at the idea.

“Never mind, that’s probably… not a good idea,” you say, doubting yourself, but when you turn to look at Miguel, he’s shaking his head.

“I like it. I like it a lot. In fact… I love it,” he says softly with a little smile. “I spend a lot of time here at the living room, so it’d be nice to set it here. And,” he pauses, standing up and looking around. “This place receives a lot of natural light. She loved the sunshine. Sometimes I think she would’ve loved the living room especially for that reason, the sunshine coming through the windows while she colored on the coffee table,” Miguel continues, a hint of excitement in his voice, as his mind works on how he wants it to look - to honor his little girl, to have a place to visit her in a way as you said. He walks over to you and hands you the guitar. “Hold this, please, while I go get something. I’ll be right back.”

He exits the living room before you can say anything, heading towards the office on the first floor, so you hold the guitar with care knowing how special it is.

This is the first time you’ve held it, so you inspect it a little closer to look at the stickers Gabby put on it. There’s three flowers on it, a DNA strand, and a science symbol which doesn’t surprise you. Miguel has always stated how much Gabby loved science, how bright she was. You smile tenderly at it, allowing yourself to realize it was once held by her, a thought that makes you tear up a little. You think about how this guitar was once held by that little girl with the toothy smile who loved pink conchas, chocolate chip pancakes, arroz con leche [Mexican rice pudding], and Choco Milk. The little girl whose birthday is today, who loved science and candy so much her dad couldn’t say no to her, and who loved bees and the color lilac. The one that played guitar and fútbol [I don’t want to call it soccer], who sometimes fell asleep on the way home after a victorious game.

You turn the guitar over, reading the name on the back.

“Gabriella O’Hara,” you whisper, your fingertips barely touching it. “Gabby.” You sniffle quietly and wipe tears from your eyes, not wanting Miguel to see you crying but then, a tissue comes into your vision.

Startled, you look up and find Miguel, his own eyes teary due to seeing and hearing you cry. Despite his own sadness - his grief - he still finds it in himself to offer you a reassuring, little smile before he carefully dries your tears with the tissue.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” Miguel whispers back. “Seeing how much you care about Gabby, despite not having the opportunity to meet her, is so touching to me. You have no idea.” He clears his throat and steps back once he’s done. “It means so much to me that you care about her.”

You sniffle again, trying to recover. “I do. If I could do something to bring her back…”

Miguel’s face softens even more.

“I’d give my life so she was here with you,” you say, looking down at the guitar. “So you’d be happy.”

“I would still be hurting,” Miguel says quietly, which makes you look up, frowning.

“Why?” you ask softly, so honestly it leaves Miguel in disbelief for a few seconds.

“Why? You ask why?” he says, his brows raising. “I’d be missing and grieving you, dulzura. That’s why.” He sits near you with a sigh. “So… don’t ever sacrifice yourself,” Miguel says quietly, firmly. “Please.” Just the idea of something happening to you… It leaves more than a bitter taste in Miguel’s mouth. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you were hurt, if something else happened. He doesn’t want to think about it.

You nod slowly, his words sinking in. Without saying it directly, Miguel has stated that he cares about you. It brings a little smile to your face as you hand him the guitar, thinking he’d appreciate holding it again. Your fingers brush his as the guitar is exchanged but neither of you say anything about it.

“But I’m touched you care so much about Gabby - about me - that you’d try to bring her back if there was a way, without you giving your life.” Miguel adds. “To make me not happy, but happi-er because despite everything… I am happy these days, you know.” He turns to look at you, nudging his chin at you.

You smile, guessing he’s talking about you, so you nudge your chin back at him because you’re happier these days thanks to him, too.

He flashes you a small grin, for a second having the urge to gently take your chin between his thumb and finger, an urge that disperses quickly when you change the topic for his and your sake.

“You went to get something. What was it?” you ask.

“Right,” Miguel says, remembering. He reaches from his other side and retrieves a picture frame and a candle. “I want to add another photo of Gabby, a larger one to place on the console table. The candle… I want to light one for her. In Mexico, people sometimes have small altars for their loved ones at home throughout the year, you reminded me of that when you mentioned the console table. Tomorrow, I’ll go and buy her flowers from the flower market. I already have a vase that I think will be perfect. It used to be in my mom’s apartment when she lived in the building.”

“That sounds lovely,” you reply with a smile. “It’s going to look so beautiful. What picture are you thinking of using for the altar?”

Miguel sighs. “Well… All the pictures I have are already on the wall.”

You both turn your gazes to the photographs, your eyes finding Gabby’s few remaining photos.

“So, it’ll have to be one of them,” Miguel continues, to this day still upset that there’s not more photos of Gabby.

You nod, wishing there were more photos and videos of Gabby at least.

Seeing a sudden pop of white to your side, you turn and find Lyla. She gives you a look, as if asking you to wish her good luck before she floats farther away so Miguel can see her, too. The sight of Lyla and her expression, at this moment, has your heart racing suddenly.

“Hey… Miguel?” Lyla starts too quietly, too serious.

“Lyla,” Miguel replies his face changing to confusion, then to one of seriousness as his ears identify the different tone in her voice.

“I have something to tell you… It’s a good thing,” she continues looking at him and then at you.

“What is it?” Miguel asks.

“So… A year ago when you were injured in another universe, you know with the Goblin, the system shut down. It was rebooted by Margo and all was great, but some files were temporarily lost due to the sudden shut down. Others became corrupted. I started working on retrieving those files, slowly but surely. There was no rush as those files weren’t top priority, you know, essential to us for our day to day work at HQ. To be honest, I couldn’t even tell you what these files were, since they had no official name when I found them,” Lyla explains.

“Files… What are you getting at?” Miguel asks.

“I’ve retrieved them, uncovered what they were. Including the corrupted files. On my little free time, I’ve been restoring the files and well… It turns out that I had forgotten about some of these files due to previous system reboots. Since they were somehow omitted from my system due to previous shut downs, I didn’t even know they existed anymore, especially being lost and corrupted files within the system.”

“What are they? Why is it important to tell us this now?” Miguel asks, holding on to the guitar. His heart begins to race a little, even though he tells himself to not be stupid - to not have hope there’s more.

“Both the lost and corrupted files have turned out to be…” Lyla trails off, looking between Miguel and you. “Photos and videos of Gabby and you. New ones, not the ones you have already.”

Miguel inhales sharply, his heart racing as Lyla’s words sink in. “It’s not possible,” he says without thinking.

“It is, Miguel,” she replies offering a genuine look. “And I swear I didn’t hide them this time. They were lost and even I had no idea they were just sitting there in the system. I came across the folder sometime over the summer after you were injured and decided to work on them. It wasn’t until October or so that one of the files turned out to be a photo of her. I wanted to tell you right away, but then, I figured that since I didn’t even know about this one photo being lost, maybe a few more files would turn out to be photos of her, too. I was hoping to have it done by Father’s Day, but well, things happen at HQ…” Lyla says apologetically. “I finished today. My work proved to be successful because almost every file was of Gabby. I finished recovering the last one today and I’m happy to tell you that there’s over twenty photos on top of some videos. Do you wish to see them?”

“Yes,” Miguel breathes out. “Yes. Please show them to me.” He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with so many emotions - surprise, disbelief, happiness, and excitement.

“I’ll go - I’m going to wait upstairs,” you say, already making the move to stand up so Miguel will have privacy to look at the photos.

“You don’t have to,” Miguel says, suddenly placing a hand on your shoulder for a few seconds, making you go still at the unexpected touch. “Stay, please.”

You stare at each other as Miguel slowly retrieves his hand. He didn’t plan nor anticipated it. It was a genuine reaction, to keep you here, with him.

“Will you?” he asks.

Nodding, you settle back down. “Yes. If you want to, I will.”

“Thank you,” he replies with a small nod. He turns to Lyla, readjusting his position. “Lyla…”

“Yes, boss?” she replies, knowing.

“Go ahead,” Miguel states, his heart racing. His fingers fiddle with the guitar’s strings, feeling nervous. As Lyla prepares, the idea sinks further. There’s more photos and videos of Gabby. All this time, there’s been more memories sitting in the system, lost but finally recovered.

“Here are the photos,” Lyla says gently as she makes a holographic screen accessible. She turns to you, giving you a small smile and a subtle thumbs up. You suppose she was thinking back to the time when she hid photos of Gabby and his wife, and how Miguel reacted then by shutting her down, but his reaction today is far different. The Miguel from then, you suspect, had done little healing. You turn to the screen after acknowledging her with a nod and a small smile, giving your full attention to Gabby.

Three seconds later, there she is. Beside you, Miguel sighs the way a parent does when looking at old photographs of their children, with nostalgia.

“Gabby,” he whispers, his gaze soft as he takes in the photo of her sitting on a living room floor, coloring books and pencils scattered over a coffee table. Her face is one of concentration as she colors, dressed in jeans and a pink shirt with her hair down.

Photo after photo, Miguel and you observe each one, drinking in the details the way you drink café de olla [coffee]. Slowly, with delicacy and love. While Miguel is thrown right back into his memories, you get more glimpses of his life with her, of that short time. You finally see a little bit more of that universe, leaving an incredible pain in you knowing these photographs and Gabby’s guitar, is basically the only evidence left that that universe once existed to begin with.

Despite that feeling, you smile as the photos progress, seeing Miguel with such a happy smile with his daughter. Your heart beats with tenderness seeing how happy they looked, sharing father and daughter moments, such as them playing dolls on her bedroom floor, a flower sticker on Miguel’s hair.

“I didn’t notice it until I was going to shower,” Miguel says with an amused smile. “She noticed it for sure but she didn’t tell me.”

You laugh softly. “She was probably wondering how long it’ll take before you realized.”

“Most likely,” Miguel agrees, shaking his head in amusement before you both turn back to look at the next photo.

Everything is fine and lighthearted inside you as more photos are displayed but your throat suddenly feels impossibly restricted when the photo changes to one of a sleeping Miguel and Gabby on her bed. An open book, abandoned, can be seen on the side. It’s clearly night time, a single lit lamp in what used to be the little girl’s bedroom while Gabby and Miguel sleep, the latter having fallen asleep at some point while reading to his daughter. Your vision becomes blurry when you spot their same sleepy faces, their mouths open just slightly, identically like father and daughter. Silently, the tears roll down your face without warning.

You don’t dare turn to look at Miguel, or even make a subtle move to wipe your tears away because you don’t wish for him to see you crying. You don’t want your tears to make him tear up, too. Inhaling gently, you attempt to swallow the painful knot in your throat and rein in your emotions, but your eyes remain fixed on the photo, on sleeping Miguel and Gabby - no worries in their minds as they peacefully sleep.

For Gabby, she’s in the comfort of her father’s arms - safe and sound, protected. For Miguel, you imagine in those moments that the multiverse didn’t exist. It was a far away concept in those moments, so far he slipped into his sleep with ease and without a fight - a high contrast to what awaited him in the future. Sleepless and long nights in his dark and empty lab due to nightmares, alone with the exception of Lyla at times. The children’s books he read to Gabby replaced with data reports pertaining to the multiverse once more by a cruel and unexpected twist of misfortune, something Miguel has been no stranger to.

Still staring at the photo, you once again wonder how different Miguel’s life would have been had Gabby’s universe not collapsed. You wonder if he’d still live there in that universe, or whether he would’ve told Gabby and his wife about his universe, have them move to Nueva York, here to his penthouse.

You wonder, if perhaps, Miguel and his wife would’ve divorced and it would’ve been Gabby and Miguel alone then.

You wonder if her room would’ve been Gabriel’s, or if Miguel would’ve done changes to the penthouse, like making the upstairs office an extra bedroom. Perhaps, on this coffee table in front of you, Gabby’s coloring books or hair ties, or something that belonged to her, could be found.

“I used to read to her every night,” Miguel says, bringing his knees close to him, resting his arms on them. “I’m so glad there’s a memory of it. That I can see her sleepy face again physically, not just in my head.” He wipes his eye using the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He sniffles quietly before he reaches with his hand, zooming in on her specifically. He traces his daughter’s face as if he were actually tracing it physically, with such tenderness and so much love. “Su carita [her little face],” he whispers. “I’d forget everything about the Spider Society at the sight of that little face. I wasn’t Spider-Man. I was just ‘papá’ or ‘daddy’ - and my biggest worry was a scraped knee during practices [papa].”

He turns to face you slowly, finally realizing you’ve been so quiet, so still. His gaze softens when you turn away as an attempt to keep him from seeing your face, the tears staining your cheeks.

“Dulzura?”

“Yeah?” you reply, clearing your throat, trying to make it seem like you’re fine.

“You don’t have to hide your tears,” Miguel says gently. “Not from me.”

With that, you turn to face him. You offer him a small smile. “I’m sorry… This photo…” you trail off, looking away to dry your damp cheeks. “You just - Your sleeping faces are the same,” you continue, chuckling softly instead of crying, even though your eyes are still tearing up. “Even the way your mouths are open just slightly.” You sniffle. “It’s so… sweet, Miguel.”

You shakily huff, drying your face with the back of your hand. You wish you could blame your emotions on something else, like your period, but it’s not even time for that yet. Your emotions are running uncontrollably purely because of Miguel and his daughter. It’s due to the tenderness of this photo and every single moment they were able to share, but knowing it wasn’t, isn’t, and never will be enough for Miguel or Gabby.

And God, you wish on everything that Gabby was here right now. You wish there was a way that time could go back, that you had the answers to the real cause for the collapse of universes. And then, you’d go back and prevent it from happening, along with every other universe that’s been lost.

“You think so?” Miguel asks, his eyes twinkling with delight hearing you say that Gabby and he share the same sleeping faces.

“Absolutely,” you reply. “It’s clear as day.”

Miguel sighs, dropping his arm. He wraps his arms around his legs and stares at the photo some more. “Thank you for saying that,” he whispers. “That makes me feel… happy. Happier.”

“Always,” you whisper back, able to look at the photo again. “This one… It would be sweet to have in your room.”

Miguel hums. “My nightstand.”

“Close to you,” you reply, nodding.

You fall into a comfortable silence, despite the emotions, and continue to observe the photo for a few more minutes before Miguel asks Lyla to display the rest. Each one is as sweet and tender as the last one, but thankfully you don’t cry anymore, or at least not as much.

“There are a few videos,” Lyla says turning to look at Miguel, talking for the first time since she shared the fact that these files exist. She’s been silently watching the two of you, glad that Miguel has you by his side while he goes through the photos - relieved that he isn’t alone today, and tomorrow, and the date afterwards. He has someone. You. “Do you wish to watch them?”

“Yes, please,” Miguel answers turning to look at Lyla before his eyes turn back to the screen.

As time goes on, Miguel and you watch the videos, all of which are of just him and Gabby. And thankfully, they’re all long videos. You watch Gabriella play fútbol in the backyard with Miguel. There’s the one Christmas they spent together, with Gabby excitedly showing Miguel new toys.

“Christmas,” Miguel says softly. “She was so excited. I did the Santa’s snow boots footprints, she was squealing with happiness when she woke up and saw them,” he shares.

You watch the video, thinking. Miguel was that kind of father, and it makes so much sense.

At last, Lyla turns to face the two of you. “This is the last one,” Lyla says softly as the screen changes before it starts.

Miguel and you both watch as the video clip begins playing, starting with Gabby on display holding her guitar and playing it. Miguel sits on a chair watching with an expression that leaves no room for question how proud he felt in that moment. Like in every video and photo, Miguel’s eyes have a special spark, one you recognize in Peter B. and MJ, Jess and her husband, and Mr. and Mrs. Morales. It’s the spark a loving, caring parent has in their eyes when looking at or talking about their child. Miguel had it around Gabby, and now it’s only visible when he talks about her, or when he looks at her photos.

A warm, gentle, and beautiful smile grazes his face as he watches and listens to Gabby expertly play the guitar at such age, a look of concentration on her sweet face. She plays a melody you don’t recognize but one she seems to know by heart, no mistakes made. She ends her playing gently, the sound pleasant to the ears before she eagerly and expectantly looks at her father, a smile that reminds you of Miguel’s, too, on her face.

“That was amazing, mija [my daughter]!” Miguel says suddenly with such energy you swear you’ve never seen in him before. “You get better and better the more you practice, eh? My little musician!”

You smile, seeing Gabby’s smile widen before she runs to her father, throwing her arms around his neck. The sight of Miguel instantly wrapping his arms around his daughter makes your heart weak. There has never been any doubt in your mind that Miguel loved, still loves, Gabby, but this interaction hits you deeply. You see the way his eyes close in content, his smile unfaltering as he hugs his daughter tightly. He’s so proud of her. He’s so loving, tender, sweet.

There’s also no doubt in your mind. Being a father suits him so much even if he once thought he wasn’t meant to. Quite the contrary, Miguel was meant to be a father.

“Now it’s your turn, daddy! You play and sing!” Gabby says excitedly, pulling back to offer Miguel the guitar.

Miguel shakes his head gently. “I think you should keep playing, mija [my daughter].”

“Please? Pretty please, daddy?” Gabby insists, puppy eyes on full display. “Sing my favorite song, please.”

And just like Miguel has told you before, he was never able to say no to Gabby when it came to healthy, harmless requests like these. He accepts the guitar.

“Just one song, and then you play again. ¿Entiendes, chiquilla [do you understand, little girl]?”

“Okay, okay! Ya se [I know], but please! I like to hear you sing, daddy,” Gabby says taking a seat in front of Miguel on the floor, watching him like he’s the center of her universe.

“Okay, okay. Ay vamos [we’re going, starting]…” Miguel says with a little sigh. “How does it start?”

“Dad!” Gabby whines with a little huff. “You know how it starts!”

“I forgot. What are the first notes, again?” Miguel asks with a sweet, playful smile that stays on his face as Gabby tells him. “Ah, okay. So… Something like this,” he says playing a few notes that earns him eager nods from Gabby. “Okay, I think I got it, mija [my daughter].” He begins to play the guitar again, the same notes Gabby was playing earlier but continuing on.

And for the first time since you’ve known Miguel, you hear him truly sing.

“Luna gardenia de plata que en mi serenata, te vuelves canción. Tú que me viste cantando, me ves hoy llorando, mi desilusión. Calles bañadas de luna que fueron la cuna de mi juventud. Vengo a cantarle a mi amada, la luna plateada de mi Xelajú…” Miguel sings with ease, his brows furrowing slightly, gazing at his daughter who smiles tenderly at her father. “En mis noches de pena, por una morena de dulce mirar,” Miguel continues singing, smiling at Gabby, nodding at her. He earns himself a sweet, happy, and toothy smile along with an applause from Gabby’s hands, and it’s so heartwarming, so sweet Miguel can’t help himself from stopping midway when he sees Gabby rise and head straight for him.

He welcomes her in his arms, laughing softly as he places the guitar down to fully embrace her like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to. The thought breaks you. He never imagined he’d lose her - not while embracing her like that nor when he read bedtime stories to her.

“Again, daddy! This time all the song, please,” Gabby says hugging Miguel, her father.

“Okay, okay, mija [my daughter], but first we need to have dinner. C’mon, the caldo [broth] should be ready now,” Miguel says carrying her to what you assume is the kitchen. “Le agregue muchas papitas pa’ que comas. Tienes que comer pa’ que estés fuerte y sana. ¿Recuerdas? [I added a lot of potatoes so you’ll eat. You must eat so you’ll be strong and healthy. Remember?]”

“¡Y pollito [and chicken]!” Gabby says making Miguel chuckle.

“Si y mucho pollito. También zanahorias [yes and chicken. Carrots, too].”

“Eugh, no carrots, please.”

The last thing heard is Miguel’s laughter as they both disappear into the kitchen, the screen returning to the all familiar marigold color used for all screens in the Spider Society.

You chuckle softly as you remember something. “So she wasn’t fond of carrots either.”

Turning to look at you, Miguel frowns softly yet he’s amused. He remembers that evening so vividly now, how it felt to carry his daughter to the kitchen so they could check on the food. “Either?”

“Remember when you were injured last year?” you ask, which instantly reminds Miguel.

“Dios [God], that carrot was disgusting,” he says frowning deeply. “I don’t know how we didn’t throw up right there.”

Covering your mouth, you laugh, recalling the face he made that day when he tried it. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re laughing,” Miguel says raising an eyebrow, feigning disappointment and offense. “Can’t believe you made me try it.”

“I didn’t think it was actually bad,” you reply. “In my defense, I thought since it’s this dimension, and all the great resources at HQ, that the infirmary food would be top notch.”

“Mala [Meanie, feminine version in Spanish],” Miguel replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “At least you tried it, too. So we’re even.”

“Never again.” You chuckle again. “If I ever end up there, please spare me from the carrots.”

Miguel’s amusement falters a bit. “I hope you’re never there. Not even for a minor cut, but I promise I’ll spare you from the horrible food,” he says earnestly, leaving no doubt in your mind that you’ll never taste that food. Again. “I swear.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly with a smile.

“Always. I’ll protect your food palate,” he says, amused yet again.

You both smile at each other, staying quiet for a few seconds before you speak again. “That was… Very beautiful, Miguel,” you start quietly. “Your voice. You singing to Gabby her favorite song. You made her happy, so happy.”

He nods, his smile shifting to a much tender one. “I sang it to her every time she wanted me to. It was a pure request, an easy way to make her happy. I always wanted her to be so,” Miguel shares. “And if I could make her happy in such an easy way, I would. It was also bonding for us. I never wanted to make her feel like I didn’t want to spend time with her, like she was being rejected. I wanted her to feel loved,” he adds softly. “For her to know she was deeply loved and cared for. That she didn’t need to hide anything. I wanted her to have what I…” Miguel pauses, swallowing. “What I didn’t have at her age. That unconditional love, protection, and tenderness from a parent. Constant. Not in pauses, making her wonder if she had done something wrong.”

Nodding, you sigh softly. You know about Miguel’s childhood; about the situation with his mother Conchata and his stepfather, on top of the situation with his biological father. You try not to think about it often because each time you do, anger and sadness flares up inside you for him. You hate that Miguel experienced such rejection and negligence in his early life, how it has affected him throughout the years.

You’re glad, at least, that by the end of Conchata’s life, Miguel had somewhat of a stable relationship with her, something you’ve wondered about sometimes at random times. You wonder, if time had allowed, whether Miguel and her could’ve worked on their relationship, if by now they’d have a better one, but of course, it’s fruitless to think of such moments. Conchata has been gone for several years.

Another thing you wonder is if she saw the way Miguel stepped up to the role of father and how wonderful, tender, sweet, and loving he was to Gabby from wherever she is. You wonder if she felt shame, knowing her son tried to be everything she hardly was for Gabby.

“It’s evident you did just that,” you say at last, concentrating on the now. “She was so happy, Miguel. Her laughter, her smiles - all signs of a happy, safe, and loved child.”

Miguel hums, his gaze softening at your words. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I tried my best to be a good father.” He turns his gaze towards the guitar, the lovely and bittersweet song stuck in his head. He picks it up and holds it, remembering how many times he played the song for her. His fingers glide over the stickers, thinking how it’s still her birthday.

There’s a chance her favorite song would’ve changed by now. Maybe she wouldn’t be interested in playing the guitar anymore but rather another instrument. There’s a lot of things that could’ve changed by now, truly. Maybe Gabby would’ve stopped playing fútbol. Maybe she would’ve stopped loving science.

He’ll never know now.

But maybe there’s a chance, that despite the years… “Luna de Xelajú” would still hold a special place in her tender heart. Maybe she’d appreciate her father remembering the times she asked him to play it for her, to sing her the song while gazing at her, letting her know that she was his morena de dulce mirar [his brunette, or of dark complexion, girl with a sweet gaze]. Just maybe, she’d let her old man play and sing it for her on her birthday even if she no longer begged him to sing it by wrapping her short arms around his neck, giggling and calling him daddy.

Just maybe.

Miguel clears his throat and positions his fingers. How does it start?

“You know how it starts!”

He hears Gabby’s voice in his head, even the little huff. Right. Like this. His fingers move, playing the notes for the first time since he lost his daughter. For a moment, he thinks he messed up, but no, his memory doesn’t betray him, and so his fingers move, as if they had a mind of their own.

You watch as he begins to play, familiar to your ears now thanks to the video. Your eyes remain on him, not missing even a second of this. For a moment, you wonder if you’re imagining it, but no, Miguel really is playing the guitar and playing Gabby’s song, at least the beginning of it.

You suddenly realize what he’s trying to do, just as Lyla does, too because a second later, Lyla displays a photo of Gabby, one of the new ones, for Miguel.

Miguel is going to play and sing the song for her, on her birthday.

Holding your breath, you watch Miguel lift his gaze to the screen, still playing the guitar before he begins.

“Luna gardenia de plata, que en mi serenata te vuelves canción. Tú que me viste cantando, me ves hoy llorando mi desilusión,” Miguel sings softly, staring at his daughter’s photo, his expression gentle yet with a trace of mourning and grief. “Luna de Xelajú, que supiste alumbrar, en mis noches de pena por una morena de dulce mirar,” he continues, his gaze softening and his mouth pouting.

You remain still, almost as still as a statue itself. You have heard Miguel sing before when he does so under his breath, sometimes unaware of it, but nothing compare to this. If his voice sounds beautiful in the video, it sounds angelic live. His voice travels straight to your heart.

Still playing, Miguel’s eyes fill with some tears. After so long, he’s playing and singing her song. For so long, he’s tried to not think of it, finding it to be too much for him, too soon for his grieving heart, but his very heart seems to have found today appropriate for it.

Maybe it’s another sign of him healing, Miguel doesn’t know, but he has no regrets playing it now. It feels right, so he continues, hoping that wherever Gabby is, she’s listening to him sing it at last, just for her.

“En mi vida no habrá, más cariño que tú, mi amor. Porque no eres ingrata, mi Luna de plata, luna de Xelajú. Luna que me alumbró, en mis noches de amor… [in my life there won’t be more love than you, my love. Because you’re not ungrateful, my moon of silver, moon of Xelajú. Moon that lightened me up, in my nights of love]” Miguel sings, his fingers slowing down as he pauses for a few seconds. “Hoy consuelas la pena… Por una morena… que me… Abandonó [today you console the sorrow… for a brunette, or girl of dark complexion… that… abandoned me],” he sings the end in a whisper, a single tear rolling down his face as his fingers play the last notes, finishing the song.

He lowers the guitar to his lap slowly, still gazing at Gabby’s photo. He doesn’t bother to wipe away the tear that slowly trails down his face. Instead, he lets it run its course until it sinks into his skin. Miguel inhales heavily and sighs. Something in him, so deep, settling in. It’s a certain kind of peace.

At last, several seconds later, you sigh as well. You didn’t realize you held your breath throughout the entirety of the song, but you did. You didn’t want to miss a single moment of Miguel singing to Gabby; from hearing his gentle, soothing voice.

“That was beautiful,” you whisper quietly, looking at Gabby’s photo.

Miguel smiles slowly. “Thank you,” he whispers back. “I haven’t played, sang, nor heard it since then. The last time was before I lost her. Even the simple thought of it, the melody in my head - was too much for me,” Miguel admits, gathering his thoughts. “If she was alive, I know she’d be changing. The things she once liked, maybe she wouldn’t be much into anymore. Maybe this song wouldn’t be her favorite anymore. There’s a chance… I know, but even then, before I decided to play it, I thought maybe, just maybe, from wherever she’s at, keeping me safe, she might enjoy me playing her once favorite song from down here on Earth… I hope she heard it.”

You smile softly, still staring at the photo and think about Miguel’s words. Maybe Gabby’s music taste would’ve changed by now. Perhaps “Luna de Xelajú” would no longer be her favorite song, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but a part of you believes that Gabby would’ve loved the beautiful gesture from her dad regardless. And for some reason, you also can’t help but think that maybe she did hear it tonight.

The two flickering birthday candles from earlier come back to mind. That was rather strange. You wonder silently. Maybe the two most important people in Miguel’s life, visited him tonight in their own way.

“I have a feeling she did,” you reply softly.

Miguel turns to face you, shifting his body slightly. “You may think I’m a little bit crazy,” he starts, making you tilt your head towards him with a raised eyebrow, letting him know you don’t. He smiles a bit. “The flickering candles.”

You nod. “I was just thinking about that. Two candles,” you reply.

“Two candles,” Miguel repeats. “Gabby. Gabriel.” He smiles a bit at that. “You don’t think I’m… overthinking it? Maybe with my messed up sleep schedule, I’m just… Not making sense.”

“You’re allowed to believe that,” you state gently. “I’m never going to judge you. I had my fair share of moments in which I felt like Peter and my parents were - leaving me little signs. I also thought about them, you know.” You shift slightly to face him better. “About Gabby and Gabriel.”

Miguel smiles, his head dipping to face the floor. It’s reassuring. He straightens up to look at you again.

“I know I already said it earlier, but, I want to say I’m sorry again. For the way I behaved these last few days.”

You prepare yourself to reply but Miguel lifts his finger, stopping you.

“I don’t want to… Push you away nor make you feel like I’m trying to when I’m not. I have,” Miguel pauses, thinking about that mutual agreement between you some weeks ago.

“We do. We have each other,” Miguel said, before adding, “Always.”

“Always,” you replied.

He also thinks about how you’ve only been a part of his life for a few years. Two, to be exact. It’s a realization that for some reason feels so wrong to him. He wishes you could’ve been in his life sooner, but there’s no time machine to do that, or Miguel would’ve already used it to bring back Gabby and Gabriel. There’s no changing the past, unfortunately, but he has control over some aspects of the future, and he’s already made up his mind. You may have entered his life only two years ago, but he’ll try his absolute best to make sure you stick for the rest of his - until his last breath.

“I don’t want to ever…” he tries and clears his throat. “I don’t want to - I’d like for you - stick around.” He sighs and runs a quick hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to push you - away. Ever.”

You smile at that. “To be honest, it’s going to take a lot for you to push me away. I’m afraid… You’re stuck with me,” you say.

He laughs softly, the sound making your heart swell. “Like that’s a bad thing,” Miguel answers.

“Well… Just saying, so you don’t complain later on.”

“I could never,” Miguel replies, smiling softly.

“Lyla, I hope you recorded that,” you reply, earning yourself a chuckle from Miguel, one that makes you chuckle, too before you both settle into a comfortable silence.

The holographic screen is still available, the same photo of Gabby displayed with one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen.

It’s several minutes later when Miguel breaks the silence. “Tomorrow I’m printing all the photos.” And then remembering, he adds. “Thank you, Lyla. For recovering everything. I… I had no idea there were more photos and videos. Thank you.”

“You got it, Miguel,” Lyla says, looking between him and you, happy that she was able to restore everything. “I’m heading off now. I have some things to work on. Good night.”

“Night,” Miguel replies.

“Good night,” you answer before she disappears.

“Are you tired?” Miguel asks gently.

“Not a lot,” you reply, even though last night you only slept for a few hours. You know Miguel slept even less. “You?”

He shakes his head slightly. “No. Not yet.” He picks up the guitar and plays a few strings, ones you don't recognize.

You remain by his side, letting time go by in each other’s company. Despite the emotions, the mood is lighthearted. Miguel is no longer as quiet and he even offers a few more smiles as the hours go by, smiles that actually reach his eyes.

As time slips by, you notice Miguel grow sleepier and sleepier, which is not surprising. At some point you find him nodding off, so you suggest that he goes to bed but he declines, stating he’s not sleepy yet.

Except, he is and he ends up falling asleep sitting next to you. In a matter of minutes, you grab a pillow from upstairs and your blanket before you reach him. You talk to him softly, waking him enough to talk to him.

“Lay down,” you say, watching the way he looks at you sleepily.

“Mm - no,” he replies, sleepily.

“You’ve fallen asleep. Lay down,” you try again. “Please?”

He sighs, yawning. “I wasn’t sleepy.”

You hold back from chuckling. “I totally believe you. Now, lay down. Please.”

He sighs again, all sleepy and stubborn, but finally lays down.

“Sleep,” you whisper firmly. “Rest, Migs.”

“Are you going upstairs?” he whispers sleepily, his eyes fluttering as he gazes at you, with a hint of a pout.

You smile tenderly at him, the sight of his sleepy features and voice warming your heart.

“I'm staying here,” you reply as you cover him with your blanket, wondering if the reason why he’s asking is because he'll like for you to stay.

“Mm,” he hums sleepily, satisfied with your answer. “Thank you.” He sighs softly, relaxing and settling.

“Lift your head, Miguel.”

“Mhm.” Miguel does so slightly, more asleep than awake now.

You fix the pillow behind his head, your fingers accidentally brushing the small curls on the nape of his neck including the sensitive skin there, eliciting a gentle hum from Miguel, one of contentment, of satisfaction.

You freeze for a second, the sound surprising you. After a second or two, you smile and finish fixing it, pulling the blanket higher up.

“Sleep, Migs,” you whisper tenderly.

“Mhm, dulzura,” Miguel mumbles, dozing off at last.

You take a seat next to him. The holographic screen is still available, displaying the same photo from earlier.

You get comfortable and stare at the photo, thinking about all the new ones, about the videos. You got more glimpses of Miguel's life with his daughter. More glimpses of him being a father.

Turning your attention back to Miguel and taking in all his features, you think once more.

He was meant to be a dad.

You wonder if there's a chance of him opening his heart to someone one day. Of falling in love and having a child. Or, maybe two, or three. Maybe even four.

With thoughts of the possibility of Miguel building a family with someone, you fall asleep yourself.

It's many hours later when you wake up naturally, without the need of an alarm. To your relief, you find Miguel still sleeping peacefully by your side.

Standing up, you notice his sleeping face, once again remembering how similar it is to Gabby's. You hum to yourself, heart swelling with tenderness, before deciding to make coffee.

You go through yesterday's events silently as you prepare the pot and set up the mugs, opting for some simple ones today instead of grabbing more colorful ones, like the mug you gifted Miguel for Father’s Day due to the circumstances of Gabby’s birthday. You wait patiently, remaining quiet to avoid waking up Miguel and think to yourself. You can't believe that all this time there were more photos and videos of Gabby, lost but thankfully recovered and restored by Lyla.

“Good morning,” Miguel says entering the kitchen, his voice still laced with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply, offering Miguel a smile. “Coffee is almost ready.”

He nods before running a hand through his hair, it being a little disheveled from his sleep. His movement slows down as he vaguely remembers your fingers brushing his hair and neck, a memory that makes his cheeks feel warmer. “I could use some, muchas gracias [thank you].”

“Always,” you reply, not noticing the gentle redness on his cheeks.

He leans on the counter, still waking up and trying to gather his thoughts. He looks over at the coffee and the mugs, remembering. He moves to where the mugs are found and finds the one. It’s the one he’s been using since you gifted it to him; his mug from Father’s Day with the bees. He retrieves it and moves towards you, placing it on the counter near the two you already have out.

“My favorite,” Miguel says looking at it, still so touched by your gifts, bringing a smile to your face.

So, you serve him coffee in that mug and watch him drink it, raising the mug you made with your own hands to his lips. It’s how you also notice the bracelet you gifted him with Gabby’s name on his wrist, another sight that makes you happy. It seems Miguel really liked the gifts.

“Do you want to come with me?” Miguel asks, lowering the mug. “I’m going to the flower market.”

“If it’s alright,” you say, remembering Miguel’s plans to buy flowers for Gabby to place on the altar. “I’d like to.”

Miguel nods. “I’d like for you to come.”

After drinking your mugs of coffee in peace, you both get ready and dress in civilians clothes. For the second time, you borrow the simple holographic suit Miguel allowed you to borrow months ago when your apartment building caught on fire and your suit was dirty and smelling of smoke.

You both slip out of the penthouse and swing through the city before most of the people of Nueva York are awake, before the city is truly buzzing with life. On an alleyway, you both deactivate the suits and step out onto the street wearing your normal clothes to search through the flower market.

You walk around side by side, admiring the different types of flowers available, trying to find the perfect ones for Gabby. You eventually find bouquets that seem to attract both of you; a lovely combination of white and lilac flowers. Together, you choose the best bouquet out of the bunch before continuing to walk around. Despite your mission being accomplished, it seems Miguel is in no rush to leave.

As you both continue to walk around, his gaze turns to you, noticing the way you eye certain flowers with glee and interest. You even stop at certain displays to take a closer look, so Miguel stops to look at them with you, sticking by your side while holding the bouquet he’s already bought.

His brows shoot up when he sees the owner, an older lady, of the display talk to you, inviting you to see further in the back when you stop on theirs.

You shoot him an apologetic smile as the woman enthusiastically talks to you about other options, so he smiles back with a look that lets you know that it’s okay.

“Mujeres. ¿Verdad? [Women. Right?]”

Miguel turns, a little startled by the sudden voice. He finds a man, a much older one.

“¿Disculpe? [Sorry?]” Miguel replies, towering over the man.

“Mujeres divinas. ¿Que haríamos sin ellas? Hermosas. Y mira como les encantan las flores [Divine women. What would we do without them? Beautiful. And look how much they love flowers],” the man says with a smile. “Parece que ya le llevas un arreglo pero le gustan mucho las flores. Así esta mi esposa [looks like you already have an arrangement (bouquet )but she likes flowers. That’s how my wife is],” he says, nodding to the owner. Miguel quickly realizes the owner is the man’s wife. “You know, she pointed you guys out from the little early crowd.”

Miguel clears his throat, looking down at the bouquet of flowers. His mind immediately puts together what the man is insinuating, or rather what he believes.

“She did?” Miguel questions.

“She said that was us thirty-five years ago.”

“Oh,” Miguel says simply for a moment, struck by the fact that two more people have confused him and you for a couple in two weeks, remembering the lady from the grocery store. “We’re… just friends. Best friends.”

The man laughs as his wife and you walk back to them, talking. “That’s how my wife and I started. Friendship is one of the most essential foundations for a blissful and long marriage, mijo [my son]. Take it from me. Thirty-two years of marriage, three kids later. Something to think about, eh? Take care, mijo, and take care of that one, too,” the man says nodding at Miguel and then at you before he withdraws to meet his wife, leaving Miguel speechless.

He watches as the couple talk to you a bit more before finally letting you free. You join his side a few seconds later, smiling.

“Sorry, Mrs. Gonzalez wanted to show me other flowers she has in the back,” you say.

“You learned her name,” Miguel states.

“She introduced herself,” you reply with a shrug. “She was very excited about showing me some flowers. I couldn’t say no.”

“Did you like them?” he asks.

“They were lovely,” you answer, looking at a certain bouquet that caught your eye.

He nods and before you can say anything, he talks to the owners in Spanish.

“Me quiero llevar uno de esos arreglos, por favor. ¿Cuanto es? [I want to take one of those bouquets, please. How much?]”

You watch as the transaction is quickly made between Miguel and Mr. Gonzalez, the latter whispering something to Miguel that you can’t catch.

“¡Gracias, tenga un buen día, don [Thank you, have a good day, sir]!” Miguel says before walking back to you. He hands you the bouquet. “For… you. I noticed you eyeing these.”

You accept them. “Yes, these….” you reply, looking at them and feeling a little awestruck by the fact that you’re suddenly holding a bouquet of flowers bought by Miguel for you. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back. Maybe with some snacks from my universe,” you add at last, moving past the awe, as you both begin to walk.

“No paying back,” Miguel answers as he looks ahead, his tone being one that leaves no room for you argue about it. “It’s… a gift. Look, food trucks. Do you want some breakfast?” Miguel offers, changing the subject, and nodding at the food trucks as you both exit the flower market.

You end up having breakfast on some wooden picnic table under a large umbrella to shield yourselves from the sun since it’s summer now. You talk with ease, the tension from the last few days gone, at last. You both watch as the area quickly fills with more and more citizens from Nueva York, the city coming back to full life.

Instead of swinging back home in your suits, Miguel and you silently agree to walk on the way back. He carries both bouquets of flowers in his arms since he insisted on doing so before you left the picnic table. Together, you walk home, sticking by each other’s side like glue, with Miguel walking closest to the street, keeping you on the inside of the sidewalk.

Once you return home, Miguel and you head to the office room. There, you watch Miguel inject himself with that neon serum you now know about. He looks at you sheepishly as he does so.

“I forgot about it,” Miguel says placing the device down, a glow passing through his crimson eyes.

“It's understandable,” you reply, glad that Miguel is in a different mindset and taking care of this.

With that, you help Miguel print the new photos of Gabby. He makes extra copies for backup purposes, storing them in his personal home computer and multiple USB flashes, or some version of them since they look different in this dimension.

Miguel also retrieves the vase he mentioned the night before and at last, he has everything to set up his little altar for Gabby.

As he places one of the photos in the picture frame, you open the bouquet of flowers he bought for her and arrange it in his mom's vase.

When everything is ready, and the surface has been cleaned properly, you both approach the console table with the items. You stand by, holding the vase, and let Miguel work at his pace.

The photo is placed first and then the vase with pretty and fresh flowers. Miguel retrieves the guitar from where he left it last night and carefully places it next to the console table, taking a few moments to look at it.

He’s glad that it's not hidden away anymore, that he'll be able to look at it every day now. At last, he places a candle and lights it, completing the altar for now. Maybe in the future he'll change something, but right now, it's perfect.

The altar is beautiful. You love the fact that Miguel has added Gabby’s guitar, the flowers that bring such a lovely energy to the living room, but most of all, you love seeing Gabby’s photo on the console table.

And so does Miguel.

You both stand in front of the console table for several minutes, simply admiring and thinking about her in silence.

A while later, you both sit on the rooftop of Miguel’s building, peacefully. You remember that it’s a work day and that both Miguel and you are technically “late” to work by now, but you say nothing. You’re certain Miguel already knows what time it is, and that if he wanted to, both of you would’ve already been there. It seems he’s okay with being late today.

He gazes at the sky, at the soft cloud formations, thinking and unworried about making it to HQ. He trusts that the rest of the team can handle the tasks, just a few more hours, without either of you.

After some time of peaceful silence, Miguel remembers.

“How’s reconstruction going for your building?” he asks.

“It’s almost done. I think in a week or two, we should get the okay to move back in.”

Miguel almost frowns, but he keeps the same look on his face. A week or two. His chest feels heavy all of a sudden and he wonders where time went.

“That’s… Good for the building, and everyone,” Miguel forces himself to say. Sure, he’s glad that everyone will be able to go back, that you’ll have your apartment once again - the one you love so much. Hell, even he misses the comfort and coziness from it, but… Why does the idea hurt him more than he thought it would?

He gulps. In a week or two you’ll be gone, back to your universe. He places his hand on the rooftop’s ground, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours.

“Sorry,” he apologizes instantly, worried he may have squeezed some of your fingers with his larger hand.

“It’s alright,” you reply with a smile, keeping your hand where it was, unbothered.

Miguel places his hand near yours, both of you silent and thinking about your upcoming return to your apartment.

A part of you is happy your place will be available again and yet… You sigh softly, staring at the clouds just like Miguel.

Neither of you say anything else about it, equally avoiding further conversation regarding the matter without knowing.

“I know it’s barely time, but what if we stay here for lunch?” Miguel says after a while. “A homemade lunch.”

“That sounds great,” you reply. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Hmm,” Miguel hums, thinking. “What are you up to?”

You laugh. “I’m up for anything.”

“That narrows it down a lot, thank you,” Miguel says sarcastically with a soft smirk.

“Happy to help,” you reply with your own little smirk.

God, he’s going to miss having you here, Miguel suddenly thinks. He forces himself to not think of that. Not again today. He clears his throat. “Let’s head back. It’s growing hotter. We can think inside of what to cook.”

You both slip back inside the penthouse, into the cool air.

“Maybe we can make some chilaquiles [Mexican dish]?” you offer, now in the living room.

“That’s an idea,” Miguel replies as you both stop in front of Gabby’s altar once more.

You both stare at it, the candle still on.

Slowly, you offer your pinky finger. A second later without hesitation, Miguel wraps his around yours.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he says quietly. “Despite my mood.”

“Always,” you reply. “No matter what.”

Miguel gives your pinky a hug with his own. “Always.”

A minute later, you both head to the kitchen to start prepping lunch, splitting up tasks to finish sooner, leaving Gabby’s altar in the living room.

The candle’s flame flickers and dances, peacefully.

A/N: It's here!! The way life kept holding me back from writing this chapter?? But it's finally here :) I loved writing this one so much (I've loved writing every single chapter lets be real) but I've been planning the concept of you helping Miguel celebrate Gabby's birthday since part 3 when we first learned Miguel doesn't celebrate birthdays but instead, makes an ofrenda for his deceased loved ones. Can't believe we're already on part 17, or that we're even on a part 17 to begin with!

I'm going to make this as quick as possible because you've already given my fic and me so much time of your day/night, so... Some of you may or may not know but this month (July) will make one year since I started writing this story and writing fanfic again in general after several years. To be specific, I posted the first chapter on July 29th. 🥺

I seriously doubt that I'll have the next chapter by then, so I just wanted to take the time today to give you guys a huge THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart 🥹❤️ I say it again, and again, and again, but the support this story and my writing has received since I started writing fanfic again truly means so much to me!! I know I also say this a lot, but I genuinely didn't think many people would be interested to read this fanfic that initially was planned out to be only 3 or 4 parts long (lol). Almost a year later, I'm still writing and this story has turned into something so much more than I planned - so much bigger - thanks to you!! All the comments, the asks, the fanart, and you lovely people I get to interact with ... Wow!!! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be back to writing fanfiction, much less have it be received and loved so much!! 🥹

Special thank you to every single artist who has created fanart of Nonviolent Communication!! If you read this, I hope you know that you've made me so incredibly happy, blessed, grateful, honored, and so much more - to see such beautiful art inspired by my fic. Each time a fanart has been posted, I've screamed and cried out of excitement, and that's not exaggeration. I am beyond thankful to have the privilege of saying there's fanart for something I've written (sometimes I'm still like "no way" fr). God - my hands are shaking rn and my chest feels fuzzy. I'm a bit emotional lol, sorry, but THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! One day I may stop writing (I hope not) but please know I'm always going to cherish all the fanart (which is all saved in my computer and phone, and now tablet because it's that important to me)!!!!! 😭

I'm gonna end it here because as usual, I'm yapping in the author's note and also the tears are coming🫣 but please know, this means so much to me, and ily guys!!! Thank you for inspiring me to write for our fav Spider-Man, Miguel❤️

To celebrate a year, I'll be posting something regarding opening writing requests (for the first time) over the next week, so if you're interested, keep an eye out for my posts. I was trying to come up with something more exciting but that's all I could think of to celebrate!🤣

That's all. Thank you so much for reading again, and ily guys!! Take care!!

And for old time's sake, I still love Miguel O'Hara (even more)!!🥹

Alondra❤️

P.S. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[svt-luna]

· ˚ ༘ * GROUP SHIPS ᥫ᭡. ⋆

synopsis: Luna’s most well known ships within the group— aka. ‘the most famous love trinagle in k-pop history.’

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ JEONGHAN & LUNA ─── ‘JEONGNA’

﹟POPULARITY ‣ 101%

﹟THEIR SONGS ‣ Moonlight by Ariana Grande ── “He's so bossy, he makes me dance. Tryna sit in the back of his whip and just cancel my plans. Sweet like candy but he's such a man. He knows just what it does when he's holding me tight and he calls me ‘Moonlight’ too.”

‣ Everytime by Ariana Grande ── “You get high and call on the regular, I get weak and fall like a teenager. Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you? I get drunk, pretend that I'm over it. Self-destruct, show up like an idiot. Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?”

‣ Reflections by The Neighborhood ── “We were too close to the stars. I never knew somebody like you, somebody. Falling just as hard, I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.”

﹟NICKNAMES ‣ Jeonghan = “Hannie oppa~”

‣ Luna = “Nana-ya~”

﹟JEONGNA THINGS ‣ Silently gazing at each other from across the room, cuddles galore, simmering tension, unabashedly flirting with each other ❨they don’t stop until one gets flustered or until someone stops them.❩, late night talks, back hugs, cuteness aggression sounds, matching jewelry, lego addicts, interlocking of pinkies, praises, braiding each other’s hair, playing with each other’s fingers when anxious, singing to each other.

﹟FACTS ‣ Luna has had the biggest crush on Jeonghan ever since she laid eyes on him for the first time and she still does because the Jeonghan she met for the first time is still the Jeonghan now, he never changed physically or mentally.

‣ Sometime around May of 2017 during their promotions for their 4th mini album ‘Al1’, Luna drunkenly confessed to Jeonghan when the two of them were having one of their late-night talks. Unfortunately for Luna, she wasn’t drunk enough to forget about what happened and neither was Jeonghan.

‣ After Luna’s constant avoidance for a couple of days, Jeonghan managed to corner her, finding time in their busy schedules to talk. On that very same day, Jeonghan being the second oldest to the group and the vice-leader took it upon himself to put the team first— he politely rejected Luna stating that the well-being of the team goes first and that it would be unprofessional of them to engage in anything.

‣ Did Luna agree? Yes, she did. She did agree that it would be selfish of her to put the group at risk especially when they were achieving their goals left and right. Did Luna handle the rejection well? Yes, she did. She did handle it well, in fact, she even laughed in Jeonghan’s face when he cornered her and brought it up, brushing off the lingering pain that pierced her chest, she told him that “it’s fine.” that “I was drunk and being stupid.” and her personal favorite “It’s a little crush, it’ll go away soon.” Was Luna hurt? Physically? No. Mentally? She was tired. Emotionally? She wanted to claw her heart out and swallow it whole.

‣ “It’s a little crush, it’ll go away soon.” Her own words mock her every time she remembers because in all honesty… her feelings never went away, in fact, she fell harder and she hated herself for it.

‣ Life went on and it was as if nothing had changed. Ever since that rejection, there was no awkwardness, no bad blood or anything. Luna never avoided Jeonghan because according to her logic, ignoring him would be enough to indicate that she was in fact hurt and she was in fact not okay. So, Luna acted like nothing ever happened. She did not treat Jeonghan differently and their dynamic did not change. Luna buried her feelings deep down in her chest, locked it, and threw away the key as far as possible…

‣ Yet, the key landed straight into Jeonghan’s hands. Because a year after that, on a random Friday afternoon on the set of the music video for their new song ‘THANKS’— Jeonghan found himself staring holes into Luna’s face as she spoke to the camera in front of her animatedly. He would be lying if he said he hasn’t stopped thinking of Luna’s confession… because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since then. Jeonghan was initially worried that Luna would look at him differently or treat him differently or maybe ignore him altogether after he rejected her but strangely, Luna never acted differently. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t think she looked beautiful today… yesterday… and most definitely tomorrow…

‣ Jeonghan is a smart man. It didn’t take him long to have reality slap him in the face. After staring at Luna talk to the camera for God knows how long like a creep, it struck him like lightning. His clammy hands that were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, his legs bouncing up and down, the sudden racing of his heart, and the smile that was creeping on his face… Yoon Jeonghan likes Bae Jiyeon. It was either that or he was going into cardiac arrest and he knows for a fact that heart failure symptoms don’t include the desire to ask someone out on a date.

‣ Jeonghan has the key to Luna’s heart yet, her heart remains locked away and hidden for no one to see or touch. And that is where it began— the chase. Jeonghan enjoys a challenge and he would do anything in his power to get what he wants. While Luna… she’s petty… the pettiest. She can see right through Jeonghan the most out of all of them. She knows how hard he’s trying but why not have a little fun with it and have him work for it?

˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ MINGYU & LUNA ─── ‘MINGNA’

﹟POPULARITY ‣ 95%

﹟THEIR SONGS ‣ Friends by Chase Atlantic ── “And what the hell were we? Tell me we weren't just friends, this doesn't make much sense, no. But I'm not hurt, I'm tense, 'Cause I'll be fine without you babe.”

‣ I Wanna be Yours by Arctic Monkeys ── “Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours.”

‣ I Can See You by Taylor Swift ── “And we kept everything professional but something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like they keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best that we move fast and keep quiet. You won't believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet.”

﹟NICKNAMES ‣ Mingyu = “Gyu-gyu~”

‣ Luna = “Lulu-ya~”

﹟MINGNA THINGS ‣ Acts of service, cheek pecks, each other’s photographer, flirting ❨mostly Luna cause she likes seeing Mingyu fold so easily.❩, giggling at the stupidest things, fashion gurus, dedicating playlists for each other, matching hoodies, winking, piggyback rides, cooking together.

﹟FACTS ‣ ‘Great minds think alike’ they say. So naturally, just like Luna, Mingyu just had to have a crush on a member as well… and that member happened to be the ‘great mind’ herself. Mingyu had the biggest crush on Luna upon first meeting her. She was older than him and she was the most beautiful girl he had laid his eyes on… she still is.

‣ Nobody knew of Mingyu’s feelings for the female member but himself and maybe even his sister but that was it. He kept it a secret until 2020.

‣ During their Going Seventeen filming, a new segment was introduced— ‘Insomnia Zero’ where the members take on the challenge of trying to fall asleep, or at least maintain a stable heart rate while lying down, within three minutes for three rounds. While a member tries to sleep, the rest shall try distracting by teasing. In each round, three members with the most stable heart rate can go home while losers proceed to the next round and repeat the challenge. Seems easy enough… until it wasn't.

‣ It was Luna’s turn to sleep and the rest of the members took turns trying to distract her but they mostly had a difficult time doing so— they then continued to complain about how she had thick skin and it was not easy to get a rise out of her. Well, not until Minguy decided to open his mouth.

‣ It took one sentence to send her heart rate spiraling— “Noona, do you know I have a crush on you?” Luna remained composed on the outside; she was still as a rock, her clammy hands folded on top of her stomach, her eyes closed, and her expression not showing a hint of disturbance. However, on the inside, she was going insane; her heart rate was seen by all on the monitor as it went higher and higher. The shrieks and the teasing remarks by the guys were not helping either.

‣ Honestly, Luna never saw Mingyu in a romantic way. Sure she thought he was attractive but that was it. The reason her heart was beating so fast was that after knowing Mingyu for years, she could tell when he was lying or joking… and even without looking at him and simply listening, his tone gave it away… he was telling the truth— Luna knew that and so did the rest of the members.

‣ And once her time was up, Luna opened her eyes and playfully glared at the men to her right— “Ya! Kim Mingyu stop lying! People will get the wrong idea!” she joked, pretending to brush it off for the sake of the show and the fans.

‣ After that, they simply continued with the game, however, when the episode was released, fans noticed a few things: first, was how serious Mingyu looked when confessing. Second, was the shocked look on the other members’ faces as they stared at Mingyu, and lastly, was how Jeonghan was sitting quietly at the end of the line as he stared ❨glared❩ at Mingyu.

‣ Mingyu and Luna didn't talk about it afterward. Everything was back to normal except for the fact that Mingyu wasn't afraid to show his affection towards her anymore… and neither was Jeonghan.

‣ And that ladies and gentlemen is how the ‘the most famous love triangle in K-pop history’ was made. The love triangle dynamic between the three went on for years and hardcore fans of each couple would root for their favorite ship— meticulously gathering evidence and watching their every move to see who would win.

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

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