#they preferred eso so much more
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I am a "the elves should look weird" TES truther, but not in my own art because my grasp of normal human faces is shaky as it is
#I try though#in the animatic I’m chilling away at you can tell my grasp of mer faces improved as I went through it lol#mine#tes#the elder scrolls#anyway this was spurred by a post on Reddit a few weeks ago complaining about how ‘alien’ the mer looked in Skyrim and how#they preferred eso so much more#and I don’t think I’ve ever disagreed with a design take more
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Valeria Garza NSFW headcanons.
This was made with fem readers in mind.
Also quick note, I apologize in advance if this isn't as detailed as my headcanons on some other characters. It was definitely harder for me to come up w/ stuff for Val, especially bc girlie is nowhere near one of my favorites (I'm sorry 😔) but what better way to expand on writing then doing headcanons of characters you rarely think about? So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!
(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)
NSFW under the cut.
-THE brat tamer.
-Absolutely will not take your shit if you disobey her in any way, shape or form.
-"What did you just say to me? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"
-Gets this look of absolute disbelief on her face if you dare to act like a brat, then her eyes turn dark and she's suddenly dragging you to bed.
-"I'm the woman who decides whether or not you get to cum every night, querida. And if you're gonna keep acting like a fucking brat, then it looks like you won't get to cum for the rest of the week."
-Her favorite forms of punishment include anything to do with orgasms. Whether it be edging you, overstimulating you or even denying you the right to cum entirely, she loves making you squirm and beg to release.
-Shakes her head and clicks her tongue, as if you begging to cum is the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard after you've misbehaved.
-"Oh, so now you're sorry? Chica, a sorry isn't going to cut it. I warned you about acting like a little brat, but you didn't listen. You never fucking listen to me."
-Proceeds to lecture you and switch between degrading you in English and Spanish as she either forces a strap down your throat or harshly plays with your clit.
-"Perra estúpida. Never listening to me and then acting surprised when I don't let you cum."
-Will also partake in bondage, cuffing up your wrists to the headboard before she runs a vibrator painfully slow over your pussy.
-As rough as she is when it comes to sex, if you're genuinely feeling upset about something, her gaze will turn more sympathetic (which she refuses to show to anyone besides you.)
-"What? What's wrong, amor?"
-And you're welcome to tell her about all of your troubles while she gently eats you out.
-Probably has multiple straps. Prefers buying the thickest one possible but she does have one that's much longer for when you really piss her off.
-Is very willing to spoil you with new sex toys and lingerie. Anything to make her pretty girl happy.
-Also, I feel like she'd switch between wanting to see you touch yourself and not letting you at all.
-When she's not there with you, she probably encourages you to masterbate and send her tons of videos of you doing so.
-But, if she's actually there and catches you touching yourself, it won't be pretty.
-"Oh, can I not satisfy you enough anymore? Is that it?"
-Then she fingers you so well your legs are shaking as she rants.
-"Look at you, cumming just from my fingers. What a slut."
-"And you really thought you could make yourself cum the same way I do? No, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida."
-She wants anything sexual to be completely dependent on either her or toys she picks out for you.
-In other words, very dominant.
-In other other words, if you ever asked or God forbid tried to make her submit, you're a dead woman.
-"Thats it. You're getting too fucking bratty for your own good. Get over my Goddamn lap right now if you know what's good for you."
-And when you are on her lap, she'll switch between spanking your ass and spanking your pussy.
-Leaves hickeys on the most visible spots on purpose.
-Smirks when you get all shy about it, gently brushing your hair away as she chuckles.
-"Don't worry, amor. I won't make the marks too visible."
-But then she does, so she buys you the prettiest necklace with her name engraved on it as an apology, and another reminder of who you belong you.
-Some translations for the Spanish stuff, chica = girl, querida = darling, perra estúpida = stupid bitch, amor = love and "no, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida" = no, no, you're crazy for thinking that, darling.
(Also I apologize if anything in Spanish is incorrect, online translators can only get you so far 😕)
Look at me go, writing about a character I don't even like and am not even attracted to because I'm straighter than a wooden ruler 🙃
This was honestly fun to write though! Valeria takes up like 0% of my thinking space, so coming up w/ headcanons for her when I barely remember she exists nor am attracted to her at all was a bit more challenging. Hoping y'all enjoyed this!
Rudy NSFW headcanons r coming up next, so be sure to lookout for those in the near future 🤭
#valeria garza x reader#valeria garza x fem!reader#valeria garza cod#valeria garza#valeria cod#valeria call of duty#valeria garza x you#valeria x reader#valeria mw2#cod smut#cod x reader#call of duty#valeria headcanons#headcanon#nsfw.#i'm a disappointment to my parents
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VOTING CLOSED
Okay! I think by the 95% replace Yuki rate is telling. I don't need to wait 24 hours to see more. Yuki is being replaced lol. So now the question is,
Who is replacing Yuki?
Here's how this works, you can vote in the comments, my asks, or inbox. Only 1 vote per person (there is an honor system to anon asks so behave. If something feels fishy I will track IP addresses so behave). I will update this posts as votes come in.
The ONLY rules for the characters are they have to be 20+ (no one younger than Ino, no kiddos, no school students). I'd prefer less used characters but whatever's voted in will be the new character. Let the voting begin!
New JJK Character Voting:
Akari ~ 1
Dagon ~ 2
Eso ~ 2
Gakuganji ~ 1
Higuruma ~ 68
Ijichi ~ 66
Jin ~ 6
Kaori ~ 1
Kashimo ~ 8
Kenjaku ~ 69
Kusakabe ~ 16
MeiMei ~ 1
Miguel ~ 7
Naoya ~ 11
Tengen ~ 1
Utihime ~ 5
Yaga ~ 10
Seriously though why did no one tell me they didn't like Yuki? You're allowed to tell me these things 😭 we could have saved so much time and lack of Yuki content. Don't let this be another Yuki situation
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When the night calls
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Pairing: Miguel o'hara x female reader
Word count: 1800
Warnings: none
Content: hehe angst, love sick soft Miguel 🥹😌
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When the moon rises, so does your alternate life. The one you’ve kept hidden, the one that could cause damage and let people know of your weakness. Being a superhero meant having no loose ends, strings that you could get caught by, so in a life that was deemed for you to be lonely in, you had found a way out of it.
You evaded the street scanners and cameras as you scaled the building, your fingers itching to get to a specific balcony. The lights were out, it looked like no one was there but that was all part of the illusion. To distract and keep wandering eyes at bay.
Your feet touched the cold floor of the veranda and swiftly moved towards the sliding door to see if it was open. It was a sign, if it was locked, he wasn’t home. And if it slid open like now, it meant he was waiting for you. A web of secrecy. You both preferred it this way, away from all the attention, atleast you did. But with how busy he was with keeping watch over the multiverse, these rendezvous got a lot less frequent.
Sure, you saw him around HQ or worked on a couple missions together but it never amounted to how he let you see him during these nights. His tenderness and whispers, the sound of his bare feet padding across to the bedroom, his time in the kitchen as he made dinner with his headphones on utterly lost in his own world. Nothing could be more precious.
The moment you entered the premise, you felt your wrist get caught in the hold of his arms. You didn’t protest as he led you in deeper, away from the dark and into the candlelit room. You knew you were late and during these days, he didn’t like to be left alone. You were feeling his touch for the first time in weeks, you would pass by in corridors without as much a glance or a faint trace of your fingers. So to feel his warmth sink into your bones felt intoxicating.
Having concluded you were in a safe space, he spun you around to face him, his eyes taking in every glimpse of you, his fingers shooting up to the edge of your mask to softly remove it, he was tired of all these layers of security you had established within this relationship.
His gaze finding yours in the dim light and the thirst in it meant he wanted more. He pulled you close as mumbled in Spanish, frustrated he couldn't get enough of you, to pull down the zipper of your suit, removing it from your body as though he was allergic to latex. To then wrap his arms around you as if that was the only covering allowed, when your skin was free from being trapped and free for his hands to roam about. You rested your head on his chest, his white tank top smelling fresh with the scent of his cologne mixed with laundry detergent.
The mundane and ordinary seemed more exotic and addicting than this little stunt you both were pulling off.
“You’ve grown impatient.”, you hummed.
“No more games to play?”, you chuckled to which he grumbled.
“You’re the one playing games, I’m clear as to what I want.”, he spoke into your ear.
You pursed your lips, his fingers digging into your hips telling you in gestures how he didn’t want to be fed scraps of attention.
“You were the one who suggested this… this setup.”, you pushed away from him to catch his gaze. His arms not letting you go out his hold.
“And now when I want it to end, you keep it going.”, his eyes narrowed down on you, the candle light giving him a golden glow.
“porqué es eso?”, he leaned closer, his lips almost on yours. But you tilted your head, causing his lips to land on your cheek.
What should have been a fun night was already turning into an argument.
“Because…”, you couldn’t meet his worrying gaze, his tender eyes had a way of undoing your heart.
“If we stop this, then what are we?”, you bit back what you wanted to say and instead asked him a question in return.
He was thinking through his answer, you could tell by the way his brows furrowed but when he met your gaze, he didn’t give you an answer either.
“Exactly.”, you got out of his hold because he let you go.
Picking up your suit that laid on the floor, you made your way towards the bathroom. A warm shower felt better than continuing this conversation. But to your surprise he trailed behind you, his large frame blocking the doorway as he leaned on it.
“We’re friends, Miguel. This is all there is to offer.”, you said looking into the mirror as you tied your hair up.
“We’re more than that, amor.”, he said with certainty.
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love with me.”, you laughed but he didn’t.
“And what if I have?”, he asked which made you pause as you reached for the face wash.
Your throat ran dry, all your worst fears were coming true, this setup with him worked well because deep down you both had lost your families. You lost your fiance to a freak accident much like how he had lost his home.
So this deep rooted fear never left your system, that if you began to enjoy your life, it would be ripped away from you.
“What do you want me to say to that?”, you shook it off, continuing to set up for your shower.
“I want you to tell me why you keep fighting this?”, he held a towel out for you and with every small gesture it was beginning to get difficult.
Difficult to lie to him, difficult to not confess that you loved him. But, his honey glazed eyes were on you, the fear, the anxiety, losing him would be..
You didn’t want to finish that thought because even thinking about it would lead to another heartbreak, one you weren’t strong enough to survive.
You couldn’t answer him either, you turned away taking the towel and pulled the shower curtain to a close. Maybe if you turn on the water, you could cry in peace, without leaving evidence. But it was clear that nothing was going to stop him, he peeled away the screen to join you as he got out of his clothes.
His eyes softening seeing your hurt expression, his hands slipping onto your waist again to pull you close, that his constant need to touch was somehow to reassure himself that he had hope to save this relationship, resting his head on yours the water cascaded over you both in an attempt to wash away all the distress.
“What are you so scared off?”, he placed a kiss on your forehead.
“How aren’t you afraid?”, you sobbed, his calm voice working it's way into your soul.
“We’ve both loved and lost it all.”, you wrapped your arms around him, like he was the anchor to your storm.
“How are you so sure about this?”, you questioned him, his hand traced up the curve of your waist reassuring you of his presence. That he was here no matter how heavy your grief was.
“Because its you.”, he said confidently and you braced yourself to look up at him, his eyes warm and sure.
“You’re worth the risk, mi vida.”, he wiped the water droplets on your cheeks but only you knew that he had seen the invisible tears.
Here in his arms, here in the myrrh of his words, it felt safe and secure. That this was truly possible, loving each other and living to see where it went, to hold onto him forever.
“But you don’t seem to miss me as much as I miss you.”, he confided in you, the thoughts that he had held back had now come up to the surface.
“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t let me in.”, he continued, communicating his hurt, hurt that you had caused and now you couldn’t hold back either. You placed your hand on his jaw and watched him lean into it.
“Now I can’t sleep, I can’t work, you’re always on my mind. Making me constantly worry about finding us a cure.”, you see the pain in his eyes and you were angry with yourself. Your actions had caused you to withhold the love he craved, the love he deserved, from him.
As you traced your thumb over the edge of his lips, you felt your heart break. It was inevitable, that he was so strong having survived through the worst and then here you were, given the privilege of being held by him only to let your fears to wreck it.
“So do your worst and tell me the truth.”, he turned serious and you could feel it, that if you didn’t fight for this, you were going to lose it. You were going to lose him.
“Dime que no me amas.”, he demanded but the way he held you by your shoulders and stared into your eyes, he was begging you for an answer.
Your lips parted, he was convinced you didn’t love him when you were fighting your past to let yourself to embrace a future with him. So you stayed quiet, his eyes glimmering with the faintest hope.
“I’m growing tired of this distance you maintain, querida.”, he pushed away the strand of hair that followed the flow of water to get stuck over your forehead.
“So go easy on me and tell me you don’t feel the same.”, he pleaded again, his voice turning soft, losing the authority he had when he was in HQ.
You couldn’t run from this anymore. The other truth was, you wanted this, the easy ordinary moments he cultivated with such ease, showing you that he was capable of loving you. Where you didn’t have to question his admiration or demand his affection. He gave it freely, so it was time you did as well.
“If I say I do feel the same?”, you asked and finally observed the stress melt away from his features. He sighed with relief to slowly place his forehead on yours.
“What happens next?”, you asked quietly, like you wanted to know the start of the next chapter having finally put an end to the hold your past had on you, to look ahead. To dream again.
“I would then ask you, if you would like to marry me.”, he spoke the words that seemed to reassure you that you could in fact expect the best in the years ahead.
“Here in the shower?”, you laughed as the sound of the rushing water and the haze from the steam that encircled you made it all the more magical, right here in the ordinary.
“Well when you lose a universe, you don’t exactly wait around to lose the next one.”, his eyes were alive, his smile reaching the corners of his face. Hinting to the fact that he didn’t want to lose you. His new universe, the one full of his hopes and dreams.
“So will you?”, his question hung in the air between you. His hair dripping wet over his eyes. You smiled, pushing them away to hold his gaze. You didn’t want to run anymore.
“Yes.”, you whispered and as though he wanted to seal his forever right this instant, he kissed you gently, grateful that you had granted him his only desire.
A chance to start again.
#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara fic#miguel o'hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099
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Genuinely a HUGE shoutout to Nexusmods today!! /pos
So I didn't catch this, seeing as I hadn't gone on Nexusmods in the last 12 hours, but apparently today an author published a mod titled "Traditional Marriage", which took away the gay marriage options for players. But in the description, the author put TONS of homophobic bullshit and general bigotry.
And Nexusmods took it down almost IMMEDIATELY!!!
I only know of the mod's existence because of a thread I saw online where the person posting called out the mod maker's bigotry, but within around one hour of that posting, Nexusmods removed the mod completely.
Below is the screenshot of the description, which the thread copy-pasted from the mod page when it was up. But also, their commentary on the homophobic basis for this mod is GORGEOUS!!!
No, Karen, it's not a mod about "preference". It's about hating apples so much that you deleted them from your game so that you never have to see apples being sold at the general merchants or, Talos forbid, an apple pie on the table of some house you broke into in the middle of the night. Wanting to literally erase apples from existence so you never have to be confronted by the horror that other people out there prefer apples isn't "preference"; it's bigotry.
So shoutout to Nexusmods, seriously, for having deleted this mod so soon. Yes, people are and should be allowed to mod their games however they want! That's the whole point of modding! But when someone makes a mod for homophobic purposes and posts it to perpetuate homophobia, that is not ok, and that should not be permitted. Good on the site for understanding this.
And what's more is that TES, the game series for which the mod was made, has ALWAYS had LGBT+ rep in general. Hell, Vivec is gender fuckery incarnate. In ESO during the Vivec City questline, there's a woman who cries that her wife/girlfriend (don't remember which) is stuck in the rubble of the fallen temple. The Daedric Princes are all referred to as princes regardless of their gender presentation. Many of them are just... whatever the fuck eldritch horror they feel like being (looking at you, Mora and Hircine). The series is outright full of various representation for LGBT+ characters, and it always has been. One Skyrim dev even said something at one point regarding Nords which was along the lines of "The men are big, hairy and have beards. The women are big, hairy, and have beards."
TES is NOT the game to endorse bigotry in LGBT+ rep. And Nexusmods showed today that they don't endorse it anywhere on their site, either. I'm grateful for that.
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i'm back in the building.
i'm still on my first playthrough, slogging through it but i think i realized what it is about this game that feels more like a chore than an actual gaming experience. i talked about the cinematics and like that's a whole thing i have beef with in the world where we have mocap and also just genuinely amazing technology for animation development but WHATEVERRR.
as a person who enjoys story games even without creating my oc, like red dead 2, the witcher series, the reason i find veilguard lacking is that rook is neither an every man character (ala hawke & shepherd 🩷) nor are they an empty enough canvas to fill in (ala hof, inq, tarnished in elden ring) it kinda feels that even as a player you have to suspend disbelief for your own character.
like for example in the witcher, all of geralt's choices cross over through three games and really you can dress him & comb him how you like but the choices are story related and you can still find satisfaction in them. same with red dead 2 and arthur where the game is more rigid storywise but still, you can unlock two endings depending on how you approach arthur's personality as a person.
and the crux of the issue is rook is not a person. they are in every way, a video game character. the infantile gameplay (left off from the mmo no doubt with no tactical view, quest summaries, limited "loot" boxes, no interaction with fauna, no actual crafting just upgrading) the juvenile writing / "storytelling" (telling fans to interpret the plot however they want, trick saying it's possible the evanuris aren't even all gone which renders the entire game pointless if we did all that and elgar'nan is in turkey getting new veneers fitted.) the fact that rook is basically woe. storyline be upon ye. (taash's identity being chosen for them ???, telling either low app, high app, or rom inq what to do w solas and yes the dialogue option of yay let's save him! also exists w low app inq?? which is to say to stop solas isn't the same as having low app but they didn't even let players choose that lol you can still change inq's mind)
like the whole game is an mmo without the multiplayer aspect. the storyline is loosey goosey because well most multiplayers are bc they go through rancid updates and additions (fallout 84 comes to mind specifically, and considering how badly that flopped idk how bioware saw the reception and went yay!!!!! lets do that!!!) and all your companions prefer to interact w each other than you because well. yeah. you're a player. you're not playing a character, you're basically playing yourself or at the very least a very conceptual idea of yourself in this fantasy realm.
anyway i have a nuke enroute to ea's HQ. that's all 🙂↕️
i just read this like an old man reading the morning paper, sipping coffee and nodding along like 🙂↕️ mhm mhm 🙂↕️ 🙂↕️
i completely agree with all of this and it really clicked for me how much the multiplayer bones of the game impacted the story and choice specifically. like obviously ive known about the multiplayer foundations for like 5 years and how it’s sooooo clear in the gameplay but this just made it click for me that it’s literally to blame for the story too… of course none of the choices are truly significant. multiplayer games fundamentally cannot have significant choice that affects the world because not everyone will make the same choice. the only MMO I’m super familiar with is ESO and when i think of the choices you’re allowed to make in that game versus what you’re allowed to do in veilguard…. yeah. they’re both shallow, and usually only cosmetic. it makes sense to me that the choice like minrathous vs treviso is pretty much just cosmetic, and then it takes content away instead of adding something new. the companion choices seem to really only manifest in some new banter? except for maybe emmrich? like it’s so clear that they had this multiplayer foundation, which is mutually exclusive with meaningful player choice, and then were told to build a single player RPG on top. it was literally an impossible ask.
also hard agree on everything you said about rook. i literally hate rook LMFAO they are so nothing - like a voice acted MMO character… i do want to play the game a second time but i want to play a veil jumper elf and genuinely the fact that my dalish elf character would have the dread wolf in her back pocket and just never ask him a single fucking question on anything that she and her entire culture have devoted their lives to figuring out and learning is so fucking infuriating I cannot stand to put myself through it
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Do you remember your first Skyrim playthrough?
I played Skyrim on the 360 when it came out. I remember the starting Helgen cutscene making me uncomfortable, being carried to an executioner's block. The character I ended up playing was a paladin sort of dude who instead of shielding or avoiding blows would use Restoration to heal himself back up when he inevitably got hit.
I've been on an Elder Scrolls kick lately, playing Morrowind and Skyrim and even some ESO. I think they're good games, but I believe I've puzzled out why so many people prefer Morrowind over the rest of the series.
When I say the starting cutscene in Skyrim made me uncomfortable back in like, 2011, I mean it has since lost any of that power. I've just seen it so many times. I think this is the core of why Skyrim, despite being indubitably an absolute achievement in game design, seems to be less and less appreciated as time goes on. Simply put, most people have played it to the point that it's almost like a solved game.
This is a phenomenon that has happened to me across some games, even my favorite game of all time, Fallout New Vegas. I've just played it so darn much that the whole thing is predictable, like I can see all the decisions and consequences without even booting up the game. This contradiction of the medium has been commented on and explored by the metafiction of games like Undertale. The artificiality of an entirely predictable system, no matter how lifelike, will lessen your investment.
And it's not the game's fault. If anything, a game being good to the point of wearing out its welcome with diminishing returns because people just insist on playing it over and over again is a crowning achievement. However, transcending that, making a game that's quality to the point of beating that almost invincible limitation? That's on a whole other level.
Enter: Morrowind.
On the surface, Morrowind just looks like an old ass game. Everything is a little weird, to the way combat works to how it expects you to visually navigate the world with directions, sometimes daisy-chaining instructions on how to get where you're going. You know, go here following a path, to ask this person who actually knows where you want to go how to get there. And then follow a path again. The game expects you to study in-game lore books to figure out what to do. Like, actually roleplaying a researcher poring over tomes for answers. It's real weird.
But it makes a lot more sense when you consider, all of this, intentionally or not, contributes to a very interesting result. It makes the game a kind of perennial experience.
Even if you know what you're looking for, there's no map markers telling you where most things are in Morrowind. Some things might be easier to do off the top of your head when you're familiar with the game but even then, most of the time there's nothing for it but to knuckle down and search around. Like, actually paying attention to the world instead of some compass or map.
The character building works almost the same. You can steer your character into some set of gear you really want, assuming you know it exists and how to get it, but until then you're mostly gonna use whatever fits. Random magical items are more likely to dictate your effectiveness than anything else. You just don't control your builds and progression as much.
And the main story and lore are probably the best in the series. There's just so much to think about, find out, and discover. Even the little blurbs that random NPCs will spout about how their job works are very well written and made with a ton of thought. It's like the anti-Skyrim, the more you put into it, the more you get in return.
All this to say, playing Morrowind is still a rewarding experience decades after it was released, because there's a weird kind of harmony in its crazy designs. It's like it was made to be played and enjoyed forever, there's so much in there. Even if you've played it before many times, you might just forget where an important item is and have to navigate manually. You might decide to make a wacky character that leads you down factions and quests you've never done. You might find out some fact about the lore you've never really thought about.
It just keeps going.
I'm not one of those people who resent modern Bethesda for "dumbing down" or "selling out". I love Skyrim, but there's very little it can give me after all these years. On the other hand, Morrowind just keeps on giving.
I think that's the difference, and I think that's why people like it so much.
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Masterlist here~
Tales the Songs Weave
Ch.9<< >>Ch.11
Notes: You and Miguel are together.
CW: He will smell something coming off of you, Miguel does have anger issues
Chapter 10: Same Way That the Stars Adorn the Sky...
Word count: 6.1K
Nearly a month passed as you and Miguel began to date. Well, as far as dating goes, there technically weren't any labels attached, but you assumed it was because Miguel was nervous about hopping into a relationship after so long.
You two still did the lovey-dovey couple activities; you were just strings attached with and without the string. Highly confusing, but you didn't mind.
Tapping your foot along to your music, you cook up some shrimp-fried rice. You came to realize that his job tends to hold him back, and you understood. Being a high-ranking worker and a hero can consume anyone's time, so who were you to be upset if he showed up late?
Especially when you took into consideration that he was missing hours to be with you when you would hang out every Wednesday night before.
You felt there was no reason to complain.
You got into the music more and more. You began to twirl and slide across the floor as if no one was watching you.
“You look so adorable dancing around.”
You jumped out of your skin as Miguel leaned against the pantry door.
“Miggy! I swear!” You feigned a grumpy pout as Miguel couldn't help but grin.
“I didn't hear you come in! Did you use my window again?” You turned one of the stove dials down, rotating over to him.
He just blinked and shrugged his shoulders. He was guilty.
“I made you a custom key and everything, and you still insist on using the window?” You tried to keep up the upset charade.
“I prefer it. It's more convenient to me.”
There was a day when Miguel stumbled through the window, gravely injured with a giant gash wound near his chest. You remembered freaking out, wondering why he didn't go to his job.
Apparently, he set his watch to go straight to your place after the mission was over but didn't take into account the collateral damage that was going to beseech him.
Miguel didn't have time to head to HQ, so he painstakingly taught you how to close it up just enough so it could revitalize properly on its own. With a first-aid kit, a fresh sewing needle, and thread you got from your job, you went to work.
Your hands never felt that steady in your life. You didn't realize how much blood a human could hold... or how much puke you'd held back after finishing.
You made sure to vomit when he was deeply asleep.
He ended up replacing your entire mattress, managing to find the exact bedsheets you had owned.
But ever since, he's been crawling through that window, no matter how much you whine about it.
“Miggy. The door.”
“Mi corazón.” He dragged out your nickname.
“I have a door right there. See, see! Door!” You expressively gestured toward it.
“Corazón!” He pushed himself off the pantry, entrapping you in a bear hug, and lifted you up with ease. “Mi chula. Mi adorable corazón.”
He trailed kisses from your forehead down to your neck as you rapidly patted his shoulders, laughing loudly.
“No, no, stop! That tickles! Miggy!” You squealed harder as Miguel tickled your sides, making you squirm.
“He-hey! Not fair.” You giggled as Miguel went to kiss your neck again, randomly pausing.
He got a whiff of something. Something strong.
“Miggy? You okay?” You calmed down and caught your breath as Miguel buried his head deeper into the crook of your neck. “Miggy?”
You've never seen him do something like this before, and it started to raise alarms. Miguel sniffed you and released a groan. Feeling the vibrations in his chest, his grip was gradually getting tighter.
“Corazón…” Miguel grunted before snapping out of his haze. “¡Mierda! Lo siento mucho, corazón, no era mi intención hacer eso, algo se hizo cargo y no sé qué–”
He placed you back on the floor before you lightly whacked his chest. “Hey, hey, it's okay. As long as you're okay. So, are you okay?”
Miguel gave a troubled nod. You motioned for him to come to you, to which he obliged. He bent over just enough so you could reach him. Holding his head, you gave him two pecks on the forehead, then pressed yours to it.
“Good, I'm glad you're okay. Now come on, the food should be ready.” You smiled brightly before giving him one more kiss on the lips.
Miguel still wasn't managing the relationship aspect well for himself. He was tremendously grateful for you enduring his moments and tendencies; however, he was still nervous about hurting you.
“How was work today? You are a bit earlier than usual. I had a weird hunch that would happen too, so thank goodness I cooked when I did.”
Miguel collapsed on your couch, a habit he picked up even before you got together, and massaged his temples.
“Where do I even begin? We had two anomalies stuck on E-374, so that meant double the workers in that case, and I had to be there for that. What should have been an hour's work ended up turning into three when Jess's new rookie decided to do her own thing instead of following directions!”
You handed him his serving as he thanked you and hurriedly sat up to give you room to sit.
“Oh, the ghost teen? Yeah, teens tend to want to try and venture on their own path. Like any child, they require a lot of patience. Especially teens.”
Crossing your legs on the couch, you both began to devour the meal.
“I try to give them the patience; it's just so hard when you hand them those simple tasks and they still try to be all rebellious and diverge!” Miguel complained in-between bites.
“You're telling me you weren't a rebellious teen?” You placed a hand on your hip.
“No, I wasn't.” Miguel pushed his plate onto the table and crossed his arms.
A smug smile appeared on your face.
“Okay, yes, but that's different. What about you, then? Even though you wouldn't have struck me as one.”
“Hey! I did some rebellious things! I knew where the liquor cabinet was.”
“And did you drink any?” He picked his meal back up.
“Yes! I had a sip–then decided to wait until the legal drinking age. Oh, oh! I did sneak out once. But then they had to turn around fifteen minutes later because I kept crying about getting caught. Then there was that one time I asked permission about sneaking out…”
“My thoughts exactly. You were a good teen who followed directions! If only they were like you, I wouldn't have to deal with this.”
“But that's it; they're not like me. Like how you're not like me, and vice versa. We may have similar viewpoints about things, but we're our own individuals who are still learning to this very day, particularly teens. It's why they need patience so they can grow and understand the world around them.”
You stood up to grab water bottles. “You just have to explain your side.”
“I do!” He took the two bottles from your outstretched hand and opened one up.
“Without getting upset, listen to theirs. She probably saw something you didn't see, but the ideas may have clashed. We had our moments like that.”
“But the difference is that you actually hear what I have to say.”
You smiled and bumped his shoulder, minding his meal and drink. “Well, I also don't get the yelling end. Perhaps that's why it's easier for us.”
“Why would I yell at you? You wouldn't do anything that would warrant it. In fact, I would never raise my voice at you.”
A small curve formed on your lips as you remembered the time Miguel mistakenly butt-dialed you as you heard Miguel shouting at Peter B. about him bringing his baby again on a mission. It was a chaotic five minutes of squealing laughter from a child and Peter and Miguel going back and forth.
Miguel had the urge to recoil until his body blipped out of existence when you told him. After that commotion, it worried you, so you taught him some breathing techniques if he ever felt that rise of aggravation begin to bubble.
It's been semi-helpful for him. He didn't realize how much he had to use to control his temper.
As a few hours crept by, Miguel's watch blared during the middle of a film you both decided to mindlessly check out.
“Miguel! We need you! Strong Sandman variant in E-2230! Truck. Truck! Hurry, Miguel!” An unfamiliar voice sprang out from the communicator as absolute chaos resounded in the background.
“Ay dios mío. ¿Puedo simplemente relajarme por el día?” He glided his hands through his curls. “¿Por un día?”
“Sounded pretty serious.” You nestled yourself into the soft blanket you were sharing beforehand.
“I guess it is if they need me.” He materialized his suit, leaving the mask off, and released a displeasing gruff.
“Still on for that rooftop date this week?” You pulled your body up so you were standing on the couch long enough to reach him.
“I'll see what I can do, corazón. It's just tough to make time now with all that's going on, and I ju-”
You stole a kiss from him. “You know, I'll understand if we have to postpone. Now go out there and be the good guy that you are.”
You affectionately rested your forehead on his, garnering a smile from him.
“Gracias, mi corazón.”
“Of course, and use the door! The door–Miggy! The door. The door!”
Miguel sprinted towards your bedroom and right towards the window. “In a rush, mi corazón! More convenient!”
And with that, he was swinging into the city's night. You gave a bemused smile before laughing to yourself, resting on the wooden sill, gazing out over Nueva York's luminous view.
Miguel chuckled to himself as he grappled and flung from lamppost to building. He wanted to revel in the moment, especially after spending time with you, but his comrades wouldn't allow it as his wristwatch beeped and blared again.
Grating his teeth, he spawned a portal in mid-air and leapt right through. For once, he weirdly felt prepared to take on this situation. That's a common reaction, but now he seemed unstoppable.
This was the dynamic. You and Miguel appeared more lively—well, as lively as Miguel can get.
Ronnie nearly ecstatically backflipped off the shop's roof when you first told her you and Miguel were together.
You made sure to leave the Spider-Man part out.
And the spiders detected that Miguel didn't get irked as much. He still has his pissy moments, but they came off oddly tame.
Snuggling in your favorite cover, you stared at the sky. You focused your eyes on locating any other stars but found difficulty as the light pollution canceled it out.
“I swear one of these days I'm going to move out of the city.” You huff, rubbing your arms.
He was running late, but you didn't mind. You couldn't fully comprehend his work or what he exactly does, yet you were aware of the on-demand position he faced, and he was definitely worth the wait.
Shutting your eyes and taking in the crisp air, you visualized an iridescent flare covered in a multitude of tinier colors.
“Hola, mi Miggy.” Your voice held that delight.
Miguel eyed you from behind, as he could picture the smile you were giving.
“Mi corazón. I'm so sorry I'm late! I got caught up in another mission. This time I was stuck with the cockney punk, Peter, and Jess's apprentice. Lo juro, estoy tratando de escucharlos, corazón, de verdad, es cuando hacen estup-”
“Come sit down, Miggy.” You tapped the empty spot next to you, not peering back.
Miguel didn't bother to phase his suit away and took the hint. You encased him in the blanket and cuddled up in his chest. Eyeing his state, his suit was a bit dusty; attempts at freshening up the sweat, the cuts, and dried blood. His gleaming, tanned skin bathed in the moonlight.
He was a rich, fine painting.
“You don't have to apologize, you know. If that were the case, it'd be an endless loop.” You knocked your head on his muscular arm.
“I knew what I was getting into. As long as I get to be with you, I'm fine if you're late. If it's one hour or two, hell, even eight, it'll be alright.”
“The forbearance of a saint. I swear, you make it seem so easy.” Miguel wrapped his arm around you, dragging you closer.
“Well, it's not something you wake up with one day. Just a commodity I've learned from years of what I've seen and gone through.”
Checking the time, you slapped at his thigh a bit. “Give me ten minutes. I'm going to run and make us some tea. I also made some cookies! Uh, the pre-made dough kind. I would've baked some, but I couldn't overcome the case of... laziness.”
He gave a slanted smile and whiffed a chuckle out. “That's fine, corazón. Take your time.”
With a cheer, you rushed down to your place as Miguel zoned out the minute you were out of sight.
This is what he should be used to. This is what he wants to be used to. No troubles, no pestering from spiders that do whatever they please, no anomalies, and no daunting pressure about a universe collapsing.
Even though it's wedged permanently into a part of his brain, it partially dwindles into a bean-sized thought when he's beside you. Whenever he's ready to see you, his heart and stomach flutter in anticipation.
Your smile, laughter, kindness, affection, and more embellish his formidable and stressful life. It's to the point where he daydreams about a future with you. He notes it to be utterly pathetic, as if he's some hopeless romantic. But he just can't stop the thoughts.
Living in a gorgeous, rustic farmhouse by a lake. A garden spirited with fresh fruits, vegetables, and flowers as his children pluck away weeds or harvest some of the delicious foods for the night's dinner.
As the heat passes through, he'll bring out some fresh lemonade as his kids dash in his direction, laughing with your smile. They'll chug it down and immediately want to wrestle before you warn them not to, as they just drank, and it'll make them sick.
They’ll share a calming moment before joining back together and helping in the mini-farmland. He's one with peace—a warmth he hasn't been acquainted with in so long. He'll look up, his heart melting as the kids' curiosity seeps through, and you'll answer, giving your words of compassion and wisdom.
He'll be happy. At that moment, he was happy. In this moment, he wants to be-
“Miggy? You okay?”
Miguel, containing his discomfiting reaction, turned over to the voice. You'd held a tray with a plate full of gooey chocolate-chip cookies and two mugs with steam flowing out of them.
“Si, corazón. Going over the assignment from earlier. Thinking how it could've gone smoother.”
Placing the tray in front, you carefully handled his tea and settled it in his hands.
“I'm sure everything went well, Miggy. You got that wicked, intellectual, massive brain power going on up there. Knowing all those big boys science and math to help you out!”
Miguel didn't know, but rather to be fazed or amused by that, before a hardy laugh broke out.
“Big boy science and math?”
“Yeah. Especially math, because you calculate the problems!” Your eyes crinkled as you granted him a giant, wide-mouthed smile.
Miguel sat the tea beside him and rested his claws over his face. An absurd, muffled wail of agony escaped the man as he shook his head.
“Ay dios mío–where's the suit? You must be hiding it somewhere.”
He cradled you in his arms and pokes your sides as snorts of laughter spewed out from you. You both eventually recovered from the antics and munched on a few cookies while sipping the herbal tea.
“Oh, hey, it's the start of a new month. A new beginning.” You signal at the waning crescent and lone star.
Miguel stalks to where your attention was directed, as his eyes go back and forth between the two.
“I know about the new month and how it signifies the time change, but new beginnings?”
“Mhm. In a way, a new month is the start of something fresh. When you close the last day of the month, the calendar rolls over to a whole different part.”
You take a sip of your beverage.
“Sure, the days and months are the same every day of every year, but when they change, so can life. The moon and star can start and continue a story, but the chapters will be different. Progress! Progress will always be made, no matter how you look at it.”
Miguel sat his mug down. He let your words sink into his depths as he took your views into consideration.
“Do you think I have progressed?”
“For the month? Yeah, they're small but still noticeable. I've noticed you have been doing the breathing exercises whenever something irks you. You say what's on your mind a bit more, which I'm really happy for.”
You snuggle next to him, your head near his pec.
“You slightly ask for more help instead of struggling because of that control you try to unhealthily keep fed. You take my compliments a bit better; you still have moments of rejecting them, but it's still a good step.” You placed your mug next to his.
“You know, now that I say all that out loud, they're bigger progressions than tiny ones from my standpoint.” You giggled as Miguel just stared.
“Miggy, is everything okay? I didn't upset you, did I?”
He only shook his head, placing your hands in his. “I-I just remembered something I read a long time ago.”
Squeezing his hands, you waited for him to speak his mind.
“Osram ne nsoromma. The moon and star also represent love, faithfulness, and harmony. The symbol represents a bond between two lovers. It's usually for marriage, but I now believe it can go even further.”
Your heart raced as your mouth gaped open. “Miguel…”
“Luna. Mi Luna. Corazón, you are my moon. Whenever you illuminate the night's sky, I will always be there, right next to you or all around.”
He caressed your cheek as he wiped a tear away.
“How do you say star in Spanish?”
“Estrella.”
“Mi Estrella, my star. The moon and star. Even if all the other lights try to hide them, they will manage to shine the brightest.”
Your lips met in a fiery, impassioned kiss, entangled in an embrace that you both refused to separate from.
“I swear… we are so cheesy like year-old cheddar.” You dried your eyes, as more teardrops flowed and a shiver of laughter escaped from you.
“Si, mi Luna, but if it's near you, I would be the cheesiest cheese in the entire universe.”
Miguel pulled you up and tightly hugged you. He embedded his face in the crook of your neck and lightly kissed it. Trembling on the flurries from his lips, a whimper leaves your mouth.
Then that scent punched his nostrils.
“Corazón…”
A strangled moan escaped from Miguel. His grasp refused to loosen. His tongue was swirling and teasingly gliding against your delicate skin.
You forced your squeaks back, as you didn't want anyone to hear you both up there. But when he grazed his fangs against your skin, a whiny cry found its way out. Miguel slipped his claws under the hems of your shirt, faintly nicking your flesh with his talons.
“Mi corazón. Hueles tan delicioso. Tu aroma perfecto y tu piel aterciopelada es adictiva, mi Luna.”
“Mi-Miguel, wa-wait. Fuck–Mm!” You bit your tongue, mewls coming from your throat as you gripped his hair.
His calloused fingers left circled patterns over your waist, his teeth sinking into your supple skin, nipping and sucking roughly. His claws sneakily palmed your breasts, squeezing the wretched fabric that stood in between him and your lovely mounds.
“Mi Estrella–” you slurred in lust, your mind racing in rounds until it was dizzy.
Miguel removed his mouth, and a giant reddish-purple splotch lay proudly for all to see.
He grabbed your sides, mindful of his sharp nails. His dangerous, carmine eyes pierced into yours. You stared back, heaving, as Miguel brought his thumbs down to your puffy lips, parting them with ease. Your tongue marginally slipped out, an indication he took to run them down your glossy appendage. Your breaths were ragged—how hot it was against his fingers.
He moved them away, causing you to whimper. Your aroma managed to become stronger, and that sprang another part out of him.
“Mi Luna is going through a time. She's about to begin... Mi corazón is going to start.” His husky voice huffed against your neck as you moaned out loudly.
He bundled up a portion of your hair, bringing your neck closer to his mouth, and bared his fangs. You quivered violently, petrified, and yet intoxicated, as you were ready to be bitten–
“¡Ah, mierda!”
Miguel yanked away, sporadic wheezing expelled from you both. Miguel drew back his claws, and you uncoordinatedly straightened your hair back to its original state.
You were a few inches apart as you two gazed out into the city's skylines.
You debated if you should question what happened but refrained from it and peeked over at him, observing his ashamed face. You could tell he was rebuking his actions mentally, and it crushed your soul.
“Don't, mi Estrella. I enjoyed it. I very much loved every second of it.” You filled that shred of space that he made between you two.
“Corazón, I nearly bit you. What if I accidentally punctured an artery? What if I hurt you? What if I-”
Thud.
Your forehead was on his, and your digits were kneading his shoulders to relax him.
“I know you wouldn't, Miggy. I trust you with my body. I know that's crazy to say, but I'm saying it because I'm comfortable around you. I know you'll never do anything to harm me in any way. Well–”
You leaned into his ear and licked his earlobe. “Unless I asked for it.”
An electric bolt shocked down his spine, making him grunt. His eyes were scanning yours, as he only saw that consideration and understanding. That love. That affection.
A string snapped to the ground.
“Come with me to my job.” Miguel snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you down.
Letting out a squeaky “oomph,” you landed on his hard chest. “Hu-huh?! Do what now?”
You balanced your elbows on his pecs and scooted your way to face him.
“Come back to the HQ with me. Spend the night.”
You flickered your eyes, confused at so many things.
“Wait, wait. Several questions.”
“Alright, adelante.” He nodded to let you continue.
“One. You stay at your job? Two, spend the night tonight? Or another night tonight? Three, is that allowed? I know you can have visitors, but not after closing hours.”
“One, yes. I have an apartment near the top floor. Two, yes. Tonight. Three, I'm the leader; I'm allowed to bring in anyone.”
You couldn't argue with those results, but that angel on your shoulder was vocalizing their worries. “Fair, fair. We'll be okay, right?”
“Si, mi Luna, but we'll have to go through the back entrance.” Miguel arranged you so you were straddling in his lap.
“Not the front?” You angled your head upward.
“I don't want them harassing us both. They are a very nosy and gossiping bunch.”
Bowing your head, you began to gather the dishes. “Well, if that's the case, help me clean while I pack up some clothes! Do you think you'll be able to get me to work tomorrow?”
“If I can turn a forty-minute walk into ten, I can definitely get you there in the same amount of time or less.” Miguel swiped up the tray for you.
“Sounds like a plan! Alright, give me some time, and we can head on out.”
With a pep in your steps, you packed a small drawstring bag with your pajamas, extra clothes, and a few hygienic products.
Miguel proposed swinging you both over to the headquarters, just so you could become familiar with the process.
You loved that idea. Being lifted off the ground into the metropolis’ gleaning nightfall. The ambience that will ring around them.
Who would regret a choice such as that?
You regretted that choice.
Clinging onto his front for dear life as the winds violently whipped your hair and face. Screeching, you realized whiplash was certainly what you were going to feel as he propelled his body from building to building, with the occasional extreme free fall.
His claws were grating up the infrastructures before being aggressively snapped forward whenever he flung his neon web out.
No wonder he had you wear your bag upfront as he deathly tied the opening. All of your items would've been scattered across Nueva York like a scavenger hunt.
Miguel touches down behind the tower with a powerful thump, his hand patting your back.
“Alright, we're here. You're okay, right?”
Skidding down his body, you dared not speak one word, dropping down to the pavement floor on your hands and knees. You appeared as if you were a wet cat who just got pushed into the water.
“I love solid ground. I would make love to every inch of this sidewalk if given the possibility. Oh God, I'll just wake up early and walk to work. Yeah. Yeah, I'll go with that.”
Miguel rolled his eyes and puffed a chuckle out. He assisted you up, stabilizing you to make sure you reclaimed your bearings.
“Okay, but if you're running late, mi Luna, that'll be on you.”
You nuzzled your head into his torso, giggling into it. “I'll take the repercussions. But, if I'm desperate, I'll ask for the express pass.”
You bumped your hip into his side and looked up.
“So this is the place. Jeez, Miggy, how do you not get disoriented with this?”
Miguel shrugged his shoulders. “Second nature? You get used to these things.” He twisted his body around, making sure the coast was clear.
“Alright, let's head on in.”
Miguel took your hand into his and led you towards a narrow pathway with a singular street lamp illuminating a very unused pathway.
At first glance, it seems to be a regular wall that's attached to the building, but hidden away, tucked in a corner, were two steps leading to a single steel security door. It's blocked out, even from a bird's-eye view, just as he wanted it.
He specifically demanded to have a secret back entrance when he wanted to sneak away from it all. He scarcely uses it, but when the time is desperately desired, he heads on off. You observed as he punched a few buttons on a digital keypad, intrigued by the separate world behind that barrier.
Jitters snuck its way to you as he pulled the door open for you. You were ready to view the vast amounts of colorful spider-people swinging by and crawling up the walls from all sides.
Then your face dropped. Buzzing lights, white panels, and dirt-free, blue tiles underneath filled the hallway from as far as you could see.
“It looks like a bad clinic horror film.” You swirled your head from wall to wall.
“It's designed to be like this. It doesn't get any sort of traffic. Only two of us know about this. Well, three now, but I'm one of them. Come on.”
The walk seemed endless. The corridor looped endlessly for you as nothing changed. Finally entering a new section with spread-out hanging wires and brighter lights, a single door on wood panel partitions stared them down.
“Are there more apartments, or is it just yours?”
“There are spare rooms, but not like this.”
He fumbled for his key and opened it when new voices began to close in on your direction. Miguel shoved you in and briskly slammed the door shut.
“So after every mission, you have to make sure that you file a report in the system. That way, everything is orderly, and—oh, evening, Miguel.” Jess acknowledged her superior and pinned her hands to her hips.
A teen with half-shaven, ear-length blonde hair saluted Miguel, then immediately finger-gunned. “Evening, captain. Or do I call you Miguel? I'm still trying to figure that part out. The other spiders say leader; others say superior. I hear the vampire overlord from time to ti-”
“Gwen. Shut up.” Jess pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Shutting up.” She zipped her lip and pretended to throw away the key.
Miguel narrowed his eyes on her, still dissatisfied with the earlier events, even more so with the ‘vampire overlord’ nickname he didn't know about.
“Oh, Lord, anyways, I was meaning to contact you about you taking off right after the mission. You usually stay behind to make sure things are in proper order, but they said you just took off. What happened?” Jess dryly asked.
“I had to do more coding for a molecular device I'm wanting to use for the Go Home Machine. And I'm creating a new invention that will smooth and increase the portal's wrap speeds.”
Miguel leaned his back against the wall and glared at the two. “I wanted to jump back into it.”
“Oh, sweet, you are? Thank goodness, I swear, when I'm blasting through, my stomach feels as though it's being yanked out of the soul and the bod-”
“Gwen!” Jess turned to her with a disbelieving, scrunched frown.
“Gotta lock that key from me! Lock it up and just throw it. Okay, I'll just–” She nervously tittered before taking three steps back.
“Right. Miguel, you've been working on these projects for a while now. I've noticed the influx of days you've been missing to work on them. Look, if you need me to have Lyla or Spider-Byte assist you in the work, we can reduce their time on other proj-”
“I don't need assistance. I'm fine doing it by myself.” Miguel shoved himself off the hardwood.
“You say that, but for the past, what? For three and a half months, you've been working on these, and I'm hardly seeing any progress being made. Plus, the extra reports and anomaly cases have started piling up on my end. I've been telling you, Miguel, I need help.”
“They take time, Jess. I'm doing them. I just don't want to waste productivity on tedious paperwork.” He hissed, trying to curb his temper.
Lies. Lies. They were all lies, and he knew it.
“I know that stuff takes time, Miguel, but you promised that you wouldn't leave me in the open like this.”
“Jess, yes, I get it. I just need the time." Miguel's breathing picked up as Jess continued her tirade.
“I recall alerting you months prior that there's been rampant increases in anomaly activities. And I'm just alerting you now that the papers have been accumulating over the week, and I need you to-”
“JUST SEND THE DAMN REPORTS. I'LL DO THEM.”
He rammed the wall with his closed fit, causing a piece of wood panel to collapse on the ground. Gwen covered her face, hoping not to get smacked by plywood.
He brazenly inhaled and exhaled out the nose and mouth. His strained, ragged breathing saturated the tense air between the three. Gwen pretended to check her phone as Jess closed her eyes, the noiseless space ringing until she spoke up.
“Miguel. I know things have been tough lately, but like you tell us, focus on the tasks at hand. Right now, these tasks need to be reported, making sure those anomalies’ messes are thoroughly scrubbed clean. That's all I'm asking.”
Miguel withheld any comments about that. Refusing to even make a peep. Pressing her lips together, Jess tapped Gwen's shoulder.
“Let's go. I'll show you an efficient way to document your assignments.”
Gwen returned it with a thumbs-up. “Sounds good. Uh, see you around, boss.” She gave a stilted wave, then hastened her steps to the opposite end.
“I'm not trying to attack you, Miguel.”
“That sounds exactly what you're trying to do.” He harped back.
She opted to ignore that. “You've been more distracted as of late, and it's been stressful for us as well. I just want to be on the same page.”
He averted his attention to the floor. He hated how she was right. He scorned the fact, but he couldn't tell the reason.
It'll damage them too much.
“Night, Jess.”
Jess clicked her tongue. “I'll send you the folders. Goodnight, Miguel.”
No other words were exchanged. No more needed to be.
Your ears perked when you heard the door hinges squeak a bit. “Everything okay? I heard a loud bang.”
Miguel trudged over to his couch, where you resided, and slouched next to you.
“Just my secondary refusing to understand that I have other things to attend to. I have too much on my plate, and she just wants to pile more shit on me!”
You sensed the heated vexation emitting off him as his leg juddered. Your right hand positioned itself over his knee and waited. It took a minute, but it decreased in speed.
You knew.
“Being a leader is hard. They always look to you for everything or the right choices. You're held to these impossible standards just because you're the overseer… but is the leader also not allowed to have someone to rely on as well?”
You rubbed your hand in circular motions as he drooped on the sofa more.
“You have so much weight on you; does no one help take some of it off your shoulders? I know Peter, but what about the others?”
Miguel kneaded his temples and sighed out. “In a way, they try, but they don't do it right. I have to do so much, but more things pop up, and it never ends.”
“Ah, that unhealthy habit of you fueling that control. You haul it around to the point where you're burning yourself out, mi Estrella.”
“I just don't want anything to go wrong, but I have things that I need to do. It's an endless cycle of so many things that need to be taken care of. But I can't do those things because of moments like this!”
His claws dragged against the cushions, ripping up some of the padding. You removed your hand from his knee to his hand.
“Remember at the gardens how I said I envied flowers?”
Miguel turned to you with a quizzical gaze. “Yes?”
“And how they're able to show vulnerability.”
“Yes. I remember.”
“From the things you've told me, it sounds like you're used to doing everything by yourself because you're worried others will mess up, but it's okay to slip up and show vulnerability and ask for help. We rely on each other, from the smallest of things to the biggest.”
You interlaced his and your fingers together.
“Maybe try telling your secondary, uh, Jess? That's her name, yeah, if there's anyone who can help out with some of the stuff that has to be done. If there's hundreds of spider-people working here, I'm pretty sure they're all crazy smart to take on some of the endeavors that you do.”
Was Miguel being biased in this situation? Yes, he was, but hearing it from you was soothing. That benign, good-willed nature as you conversed with him instead of tearing him down.
“I-I will see what I can do, mi Luna. Simplemente, no puedo creerlo. How are you so gentle?”
“I'm not gentle.” You giggled. “I just want to make sure that you're okay. I deeply care for you, Miguel, and I only want the best for you.”
“No, no, mi corazón, you are very gentle.” He engulfed you in a firm hold, kissing your forehead as you laughed, and grabbed his arm with both your hands.
“Alright, alright. I'll be gentle as an excuse to forgive you for pushing me into your apartment.”
“Ay, I'm sorry, mi Luna. I panicked when I heard others, and I didn't want them harassing you and-”
“Hey, hey, it's okay; I'm just teasing.” You placed your lips on his forearm and nuzzled more into him.
Miguel sheepishly grinned and buried his face in your hair.
“So…”
“Si, mi corazón?”
“Going to show me around your place? It's so dark in here, I nearly stumbled over many unknown objects.”
“Ah–sorry about that. Yes, I'll show you around.”
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@ella-janehaven @prozacgooble @sanguwuxyoonbummy
#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#tales the songs weave#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#atsv miguel#atsv#miguel fanfic#miguel x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#spotify
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[SFW] The Sounds of Your Heart // Death x Reader
long time no see! back with some more gn!reader x death/muerte. this one is a bit more heavy than the last two, so discretion advised.
scenario: although the injuries you had recently received were relatively minor, death can't help himself but worry over your recklessness.
☙ Death/Lobo With Injured GN!Reader ❧
By the time he finds you, he is not pleased by your situation.
Your injuries were minor, at best. A few cuts and bruises here and there, but nothing too major worth worrying about...
...or, at least, so you thought.
Comfortability is key. He's already devoted his heart to you, so ensuring your well-being is currently his biggest concern.
Constantly hovering over you. He is more than ready to attend to your every need, so long as you just say the word.
He prefers to carry you on his back, anything to feel your warmth against him. If needs be, he isn't opposed to carrying you bridal-style. He just sees you as too fragile to carry on his shoulder.
More than willing to scold you if he feels you're pushing yourself too hard. Your recovery is important to him, after all.
The wolf had you nestled comfortably in his lap - his tail curled around your waist as his head rested atop your own. He had you faced towards his chest, letting you rest your head against his body as you listened quietly to the soft thumping of his heartbeat.
Or, at least, what you'd assume would be the heartbeat of an immortal wolf like himself, anyway. You were never able to tell.
"I'll be fine, I promise," you try to tell him. His ears flicked up at the sound of your voice, but he makes no effort to respond, content to just hold you in his embrace for as long as he can.
Even after you'd insist that you weren't hurt, he had little reason to believe you—not without reason, anyway. Your recklessness had caused you a myriad of issues in the past, much to his chagrin, to the point he'd lecture you about valuing your own safety more than once.
"Yo solo no quiero perderte," Muerte responded without a second thought, paws stroking gently through your hair. "Eso es todo."
As he uttered those words, you finally understood where his concerns were coming from. It wasn't that he just saw you as fragile, but rather, he saw you as mortal. Someone who would, one day, inevitably leave his side to join the great beyond. And the thought of losing you sooner rather than later was one he hadn't anticipated.
You had nothing to say to that, as there was not much you could come up with anyway. Rather, you rest your face against his chest, choosing to let sleep overcome you instead.
The moon is shining brightly tonight, just as always.
It's nice to see how he cares for you, even in his own special way.
#puss in boots#the last wish#puss in boots last wish#puss in boots wolf#puss in boots death#death puss in boots#death the wolf#big bad wolf#death x reader#muerte x reader#comfort#light angst#headcanons#injures
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Anon rebelde.
Me voy a meter en un jardín pero creo que la mala hierba de cierto blog dedicado a un sujeto que quiere, necesita y ansía ser anónimo así que no se que misión tiene en si ese blog, está alcanzando tamaño como para darle un repaso y dejarla en su tamaño de ego preciso. Las nuevas/viejas fotos de GETTY han sido una novedad para el fandom, fotos recogidas en distintas plataformas y publicadas en ellas a razón del sesgo de cada cuenta, y si, esas fotos no aparecian en los antiguos post del portal a la que alude como si fuera la biblia de GETTY así que no me sirve esa triste excusa de actualizaciones de fotos, son fotos nunca antes publicadas como la UNICA que ella publicó porque esa si que se ajustaba, con calzador eso si, a su narrativa. Entonces una si y otras no ? Señora de las iniciales en mayúsculas, como las rubias de Sam, sea mas coherente con sus excusas de mal pagador que no hay ser más patético que el que no sabe retroceder o por lo menos guardar silencio ante un muro de realidad porque si no corre el riesgo de que, hasta su media docena de notas, se avergüencen de su idiotez.
Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,
Disculpe esta publicación tan retrasada (48 horas) de su excelente envío. Como bien sabes, estos dos últimos días fueron bastante intensos. No voy a añadir más comentarios sobre lo que tan elocuentemente escribiste. No fue fácil de traducir, pero me faltaba ese argot madrileño (Alguien y yo preferimos hablar en francés, solo porque somos 2 pijos muy, muy #tontos). Y por mucho que me gustaría dejar de lado este maldito tema, también soy de la opinión de que se debería animar a la gente a expresarse. Así que aquí va la traducción, para que la disfruten todas nuestras amigas./Please excuse this very much delayed posting (48 hours) of your excellent submission. As you well know, these last two days were pretty intense. I am not going to add any more comments to what you so eloquently wrote. It was not easy to translate, but I was missing that Madrid slang (Someone and I prefer to talk in French, just because we are 2 #silly pijos). And much as I would like to put this damn topic to rest, I am also of the opinion that people should be encouraged to express themselves. So here goes the translation, for all our friends to enjoy:
'I will probably overanalyze again, but I think the weeds of a certain blog, dedicated to somebody who wants, needs and craves anonymity (and I do fail to see what could be the main objective of such a blog), have reached that size when they need to be cleaned up and that ego trimmed to reasonable proportions. The new/old GETTY photos have been a novelty for the fandom. They have spread on other platforms, too, where people shared them based on the agenda of each account. And yes, those photos did not appear in the old posts of that webpage to which she alludes as if it were the GETTY Bible, so that sad excuse of photo updates doesn't work for me. These are never before seen photos, and so is the ONLY one that she published, just because she did manage to shoehorn it into her own narrative.
So that photo is ok, but not the other ones? Hey, Block Letters Lady (just like Sam's blondes), you should really bring more than lame excuses to the table, because there's nothing more pathetic than someone who doesn't know how to push back or at least remain silent, when confronted with reality. If you don't, you risk to make even that half dozen likes you get for your posts feel ashamed, because of your stupidity.'
Bangkok Traffic Scene. Taken by me, April 2009.
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Any ideas on lgbt (mostly gay stuff) in khajiiti culture?
Canon sources of LGBT khajiit are rare from what I know of, encountered some gay NPCs when I was playing ESO which was never commented upon (this was before the Elsweyr expansion which I haven't played), and years ago, sex jokes from Daggerfall were often brought up as crumbs of representation but I believe they're less lore-y and more fantasy flavor takes on basic jokes. Gender is very important to the notions of what makes LGBT- khajiit culture, judging by the creation myth in Words of Clan Mother Ahnissi as well as by the honorifics they use in their naming conventions, seem to go for a male/female binary. There are no transgender or gender non-conforming khajiit mentioned that I know of, although I cannot name any culturally relevant sexism either, so it's fair to assume it's not much of a thing. Historically, the real life cultures I've read about that strictly see gender as male or female seem to inch for both sides of the same coin approaches, or seeing them as two separate things, and given khajiit motives of duality and seeing outside of it I would assume it's the first. I also believe people outside that strict biological binary have and will always exist, although in video games representation it is not fair to read much into their absence because those people are rarely if ever represented in mainstream media.
This being out of the way, here's the headcanons portion! I'll be referring to khajiit and elsweyri culture interchangeably (a can of worms for another day)
My main idea would be that khajiit are very lax about sex, do not consider it a taboo topic and in their culture, have a lot of freedom around it. Ostracizing someone for homosexual relationships would be considered an attack. The times it could be a big deal would be surrounding situations where someone wants biological children, should it be of their own desire or because of peer pressure, which would be niche situations more depending on individuals than culture as a whole. However, I also believe that in using our modern terms, the social norm would be bisexuality and that someone displaying exclusive preference should it be gay or het might raise a few eyebrows. Given this, I do not believe that the born and raised elsweyri have specific gay subcultures as is the case in our modern world. Same sex marriages would also happen (more in my marriage post).
Regarding transgender people, with the strong binary I mentioned above I think gender non-conformity and transgender identities would be understood closely to our modern world. It'd be easier to understand to a khajiit that someone would transition from male to female and the other way around, but more complex personal expressions of gender would be outsides of the social norm and broadly characterized as "third other" or by less gentle people, as a combination of traits of each, the basic "x soul y body" or whatnot phrases you sometimes hear. This could be both rejected and reclaimed by people! And contrary to gay stuff, it's likely that GNC individuals would group up to find in each other respite from the social norm.
But if you're to ask LBGT questions to a khajiit the most likely answer would be in the lines of "why is this your business?", or adjacent 😺
#the elder scrolls#khajiit#answered#most of my khajiit characters are bi following all this with rare counter examples#i only have one transgender khajiit character but he is not culturally elsweyri#and a butch one who's on the mix and match side but rejects elsweyri culture too#anyways hope this helps o7
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“[...] I have a secret thing that I’m building up. I’ve been working on that for a while now. [...] I’ll be going back to theatre - there’s independent film, there’s big movies, there’s other stuff. All of these things are constantly on my mind. We have several things on the slate in development.” 🔥 — 𝗧𝗼𝗺 for 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙚𝙨
This interview (which you can read in full on 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙚𝙨) has made me the happiest in the world, because 𝗧𝗼𝗺 has said that we will have much more of him and I love that and it makes me so happy 🥹💖🤩
I like about 𝗧𝗼𝗺 that he prefers to do things that are meaningful to him, as it should be, not like others who do projects just for doing and release things every 2 months 👏🏻💯
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“[...] Tengo algo secreto que estoy creando, construyendo. Llevo un tiempo trabajando en eso. [...] Volveré al escenario: hay cine independiente, hay grandes películas, hay otras cosas. Todas estas cosas están constantemente en mi mente. Tenemos varias cosas en desarrollo.” 🔥 — 𝗧𝗼𝗺 para 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙚𝙨
Esta entrevista (la cual podéis leer completa en 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙚𝙨) me ha hecho la más feliz del mundo, porque 𝗧𝗼𝗺 ha dicho que tendremos mucho más de él y eso me encanta y me hace tan feliz 🥹💖🤩
Me gusta de 𝗧𝗼𝗺 que él prefiere hacer cosas que sean significativas para él, como debería ser, no como otros que hacen proyectos por hacer y sacan cosas cada 2 meses 👏🏻💯
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#tom hardy#edward thomas hardy#forbes#interviews#entrevistas#tom hardy interview#entrevista de tom hardy#entrevista#interview#my edits#mis edits#2018#comic-con#comic con#2018 comic con#2018 comic-con
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A: … that is the Spaniard’s manager. Carlos, feeling goosebumps still, no?
C: Buah, incredible. Imagine, here in Monza where everything multiplies x1000, making pole, is… Fuck, is that, goosebumps, as you say.
A: And you were telling me that it hasn’t been the perfect lap, that it’s been an incredible second sector you told.
C: He’s done… The 1st sector was not perfect, the 2nd sector was absolutely terrific. He does both Lesmos very fast, specially the second one. And then in the 3rd sector, he is gone mad in Ascari and then Parabolica wasn’t perfect but he had done Ascari so well that it was enough.
A: You’ve been with him all these days, did you sense something special? Carlos felt comfortable here and more after yesterday, did he know?
C: He, since Zandvoort finished… On Monday he was only thinking “Monza, Monza, Monza” Talking about Monza. Engineers, calls, he always told me that Monza was going to be different, that it’s another circuit, another configuration, another rear wing and more. So, after he finished Zandvoort’s race, he has been thinking about this. They have prepared it thoroughly, eh… And well, here, with all the support from the people, it’s something so unique, and the extra concentration he is always here, you tell me. Achieving this here, well. But it’s not done yet eh.
A: That's what I was going to tell you, now the second round, tomorrow. Who is stopping Verstappen?
C: Well, let’s see, they have more downforce, which means they are faster in turns, but in the straights, with our configuration we are faster. It’s going to be very tight. Honestly, in race simulation we have similar pace, so may the best win.
A: Congratulations, don’t celebrate too much because you have to be ready for tomorrow.
C: No! We don’t celebrate anything on Saturdays! The points are given on Sundays and even if the photo is pretty the important thing is to be up there in the podium, preferably on the taller step.
A: Well said, congrats.
C: Thanks.
Spanish:
A: ... que es el manager del piloto español. ¿Carlos, piel de gallina aún supongo, no?
C: Buah, increible. Imagínate, aquí en Monza que todo se multiplica por mil, ponerlo en la pole, macho es... Joder, pues eso, piel de gallina, como dices tú.
A: Y me decías que aún no ha sido la vuelta perfecta, que ha sido increíble el segundo sector decías.
C: Ha hecho... El sector 1 no ha sido perfecto, el sector 2 lo ha bordado. Las dos Lesmos las hace muy rápido, sobre todo la segunda, y luego en el sector 3, Ascari se ha tirado a cabreo y luego en Parabolica no ha sido perfecta pero bueno, había hecho Ascari tan bien que con eso vale.
A: Tú que has compartido todos estos días con él, ¿notabas algo especial? Que Carlos aquí se sentía cómodo y más después de lo de ayer, ¿lo sabía? ¿lo tenía?
C: Él, desde que terminó Zandvoort, el lunes ya estaba solo “Monza, Monza, Monza”. Hablando de Monza. Ingenieros, llamadas, a mí siempre me decía que Monza iba a ser distinto, que es otro circuito, otra configuración, otro ala y tal. Entonces, él, desde que terminó la carrera de Zandvoort, ya ha estado pensando en esto, la han preparado a conciencia, eh... y bueno, es que aquí, encima con el apoyo de la gente, que es algo único y con la concentración extra que trae aquí siempre, pues imaginate. Ahora conseguir esto, pues bueno. Pero bueno, no está hecho, eh.
A: Ah, es lo que te quería decir, ahora viene lo... el segundo asalto, mañana. ¿Quién frena a Verstappen?
C: Bueno, a ver, ellos llevan más carga, con lo qual van un poco más rápido en curva, pero en las rectas, con la configuración que llevamos nosotros vamos más rápido, con lo cual va a estar ahí ahí. La verdad es que en simulación de carrera íbamos bastante a la par, entonces pues bueno, será una carrera, yo creo que a cara de perro y a que gane el mejor.
A: Felicidades, a celebrarlo poquito porque hay que dejar algo para mañana.
C: Que va, aquí los sábados no se celebra nada. Que no reparten puntos y la foto es muy bonita pero lo que cuenta es subirse al podium mañana y si puede ser en lo más alto.
A: Sí señor, felicidades.
C: Gracias.
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𝘕𝘰 𝘚𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩?
Vaquero Wally x GN Reader
- - - - -
The cartel was in need of new workers, the last few proved to be distrustful and spies where not welcome, so new applications where in order. Narco Home held up a signed contract for his face, grinning as he saw the name written down of his newest asset. Vaquero, who had been more or less persuaded under stress to sign his free will and human rights away. If only he knew-
He carefully put the important documents away, hiding it in a carefully selected place.
As long as he had these papers none of his staff would stay out of line, these where legally binding contracts, all in his own favor. And if someone still acted up he had other more painful means.
Narco Home stood up from his desk as he heard his guest arrive. He opened the door for Y/n, like a gentleman but his actions where calculated and firm as he invited them in his office. It wasn't so much as a invite as it was a demand.
"Me alegra que hayas venido con tan poco aviso, cariño."
(Glad you could came on such short notice, darling.)
"Yeah... no worries, anything for our boss."
He dismissed their uncomfortable chuckle, used to it from them.
Narco Home was a towering figure (a puppet not a sentient house in this au), decked out in a black cowboy suit that matched his intimidating demeanor. His fiery red hair peeked out from beneath his black cowboy hat, and his piercing green eyes struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. He knew he could come over as intimidating.
Y/n on the other hand, was a bumbling member of the cartel. They had inadvertently stumbled into the criminal life as they too had been desperate for a job unaware it would be anything like this, dealing in illegal substances and drugs.
They zoned out slightly as their bossy boss was starting off a whole story in Spanish, the language spoken by everyone here.
Everyone that wasn't YOU.
Y/n has always done their best to blend in, not to stand out in either a negative or positive way. They had accepted the fact they couldn't leave this cartel, the only way that was possible was in a body bag and they preferred to stay alive breathing and well. So they just did what they where told, nodding along to conversations they did or didn't understand and hoping for the best. Their biggest struggle in life really was the language barrier.
And somehow no one knew about it. Their lack of understanding even when whole business meetings or appointments where given or shouted in Spanish. All cause they where good at faking they understood it all (and secretly using a shitty translator app when no one was looking).
Y/n got snapped out of their daydreaming as Narco Home's eyes pierced though them, slightly frowning as he was getting suspicious they weren't paying attention. And he didn't like that.
"You got it?" He said condescendingly.
"SI- I so got this! But uhmm if you could just repeat that last part, that be soooo amazing." They nervously smiled, as they frantically moved their hands unsure where to keep them.
He looked unimpressed with their statement but gave in, repeating his words, still in spanish this time.
"Dije que mostrarás alrededor a mi nuevo trabajador Vaquero, su primer día fue bastante... desordenado y creo que podría usar un recorrido extra y una presentación. ¿Puedes encargarte de eso, verdad?"
(I said, you will show around my new worker Vaquero, his first day got quite...messy and I believe he could use a extra tour and introduction. You can handle that, can't you?)
"Of course, sure thing..."
Well that's useless, you hardly understood that.
Thankfully they did overhear Poppy talk about comforting someone new here with the name Narco Home also mentioned.
So it was up to them to probably give instructions to the newbie or to show them around.
"Vaquero right?"
Y/n curiously eyed up the newest addition to Narco Home's crew. Vaquero was a breath of fresh air, clad in a vibrant blue cowboy blouse that matched his blue pompadour hairstyle. Though he seemed a bit unwell and shaken up (must have had to do with why Poppy had to comfort him) but overall like a sweet, naive person. Someone to be exploited by their boss for sure.
"Sí, ¿y me dijeron que eres Y/n, ¿verdad?"
(Yes, and I was told you're Y/n, correct?)
They nodded to hearing their name, even while oblivious to what he was saying. Why did he have to reply in Spanish as they addressed him in English? WHY?!
Without further ado and to avoid looking stupid they just started walking, motioning for him to follow.
Some time went by and Vaquero might have been still not all there considering what transpired the first time he arrived here but he wasn't stupid. He noticed Y/n's odd behavior of one word response with either si or no or replying in English while heard everyone else around here use Spanish, more often than not.
"You know... if you aren't good at Spanish, you can tell me."
"What are you talking about, I am... absolute great in it. What gave you that idea." They tried to gaslight him, as they once gain moved their hands around unsure how to hold them as didn't want to look defensive or nervous but it was creating the opposite effect.
"Está bien. Así que por favor, repite esa oración de nuevo pero en español, debería ser bastante fácil."
(Alright- So please, repeat that sentence again but in Spanish, it should be easy enough.)
As he spoke he could tell they didn't understood him, it was very clear now he payed close attention to their face. His eyes also drifted to the phone they clutched behind their back, as it translated his spoken words but not very proficiently.
The situation was almost silly.
And for a moment he forgot about the traumatic incident that had been on his mind for a while, letting out the slight chuckle as he feigned a look off disappointment.
"Oh come on, you really are bad at hiding it, just admit it, you didn't understand a word I said."
...
...
...
"Fine! I'll admit it! I suck so bad at Spanish, for the life of me, I cannot comprehend it. Like some words, yeahhh but most of it no way! It's embarrassing I know but you can't tell the others."
"You know it's a bit worrying, how did you even manage hiding that? Won't you get in trouble if you misunderstand your given assignments or deals that take place here?"
Vaquero joked but he clearly seems genuinely baffled and concerned.
Y/n felt their own face heat up from humiliation.... and somehow also flattered he seemed to care for them.
"Just please, I beg you, don't tattle about this. I'll normally just wing it and improvise, I cannot stress enough that the others can't know. Please. Por favor!"
They looked at him pleadingly as they put their hands together in a prayer.
"Por favor? Is that the best you can do? Have you even tried learning the language, I'm sure there are many ways to learn it online."
"HUSHH and I'm not going back to Duo Lingo, I already lost my streak to many times. That bird has it out for me the moment I disappoint it again."
Vaquero knew he shouldn't but he couldn't hold back a amused laugh from his mouth as he saw the serious look in their eyes yet he their words sounded ridiculous.
"Hey! Don't laugh at me... I'm not bad at it on purpose..."
He started to feel bad as he saw the look of hurt and anxiety on their face. He hadn't meant to upset them, especially not after they unintentionally brightens his mood. Giving him some hope it wouldn't be all bad here. With people like them, like Barnaby and Poppy he might manage it here.
"Mis más sinceras disculpas, that was insensitive of me. Let me make it up to you mi querido/a. I'll teach you Spanish and in return you help me fit into this place. There is still a lot I have to get used too, and if you are still able of giving out those cheeky smiles I may be too."
"That does sound like a fair trade, and it's nice finally having this secret of my chest.” They smile at him before shaking his hand with new enthousiasm. “Proposal accepted. Welcome Home into the cartel."
- - - - -
#wally darling#wally x reader#vaquero au#vaquero wally x reader#welcome home#I used google translate for Spanish 😭
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In which Kem has a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about Dhamari, Gale, and a certain Crown, and attempts to render them here with some semblance of coherency. Major spoilers!
I feel like this is a very *incoherent circular scribbles* topic as opposed to a series of linear thoughts, but let’s see here….
Let’s start with Mystra. Dhamari has never met Mystra, has extremely limited knowledge of her and what she’s about. But he hates her, solely on the basis of a) she’s Gale’s ex-lover, thus a rival, and b) she ordered Gale to blow himself up, which aside from just being a terrible thing to do, ends up prodding Dhamari in that unfortunate sore spot of ‘powerful female treating subordinate male like he’s worthless’ that Dhamari carries from growing up in drow society.
Between these two angles, Dhamari is ready to leap recklessly at ANY chance he gets to piss off, defy, or otherwise be the most obnoxious thorn of lightning to ever jab a goddess’ side - even when doing so puts him at odds with Gale himself (which is why this relationship has some VERY rocky moments). ‘Mystra’s Star Circle’, Gale’s favourite constellation? Dhamari tries to undermine that with ungentlemanly deliberation. Broken shadow lantern full of dark magic that Gale says should be destroyed, lest Mystra get upset? Dhamari goes ahead and fixes it instead, despite Gale’s vocal objections. If Dhamari can spite Mystra, he WILL, and with relish.
So when the whole situation about a certain Crown comes out into the open, and Mystra offers another deal to Gale - obtain the Crown, give it to her, and in exchange she’ll cleanse Gale of the orb - Dhamari’s first instinct is a vehement no, fuck that. He wants Gale to claim the Crown for himself, he wants to see Gale break free of Mystra’s influence once and for all, and seize everything that Mystra has denied him. Wants to watch as Gale rises up, reclaims his power, ascends to rival his former lover, and perhaps it’s Mystra now who will baulk and cower in fear of her Chosen’s magnificence.
And it’s interesting here, because if this were ESO Dhamari, I think that’s how it would have played out. His ESO incarnation is rather more savage and far more greedy for power, and could easily discard everything and everyone else for the sake of such raw magic. ESO Dhamari wouldn’t understand WHY Gale would even hesitate to claim such a prize, he’d encourage him without a second thought to seize the Crown and make Mystra understand her mistakes, to take revenge.
But BG3 Dhamari is… a slightly different creature. He enjoys some sweet revenge as much as the next drow, but after constantly fighting to survive - first in the Underdark, then on the surface, now with half of Faerûn apparently relying on him to save them - he mostly just wants to be left the hell alone. He doesn’t really know what peace is, but he’d sure like to find out - preferably while he’s snuggled up next to Gale, because that’s as close to peace as he’s ever experienced.
This Dhamari has also had ample opportunity to observe the downside of incredible power. He’s seen it backfire, seen it twist and corrupt, and sorry Gale, but your ambition already has a literal black mark against you when it comes to dabbling in this stuff. Dhamari doesn’t want to see that happen to Gale (again) - a revelation that takes him by surprise, because he’s rarely cared what happens to anyone else, and certainly not this fervently. And in extension of that, he isn’t sure he wants to see Gale return to the height of power, because that isn’t the Gale he knows. He’s seen behind the confident and charming facade to the darkness and doubts beneath. Though it’s never been voiced in so many words, the wizard he’s come to love is not Gale of Waterdeep, renowned and grandiose, but plain, simple Gale Dekarios.
The tipping point in Dhamari’s thinking, however, is a small and rather petty one, and comes when Gale is fantasising about godhood. All the power he would have, all the great deeds he could do, all the people he could help. And Dhamari… doesn’t want him to. Because Dhamari doesn’t want to have to SHARE Gale with anyone - not with Mystra, and not with anyone who would come to view Gale as their god or saviour. He’s never had someone to call just his own, and so he wants to keep Gale mortal, and close, and all to himself.
He doesn’t outright say this to Gale - in part because he’s only half able to understand it himself - but ultimately, it’s this selfishness that pushes Dhamari into persuading Gale to forsake the Crown. And yet, in a way, it’s also rather selfless (for Dhamari, anyway), because in doing so, he’s choosing to put aside his animosity towards Mystra. He’s placing his love for Gale above his deeply ingrained need to be a spiteful little creature, and he’s letting Mystra ‘win’ by accepting her deal - the Crown, in exchange for Gale’s life.
At least, that was how I planned it to play out. I didn’t know that there would be a middle ground option. So when Dhamari has the chance to just leave the Crown in the sea instead of outright giving it to Mystra, and she still quells the orb and allows Gale to live - of course I had to take that option. One last petty act on Dhamari’s part, because if she wants the Crown that much, she can damn well fish it out herself.
#bg3#gale dekarios#gale x tav#bg3 tav#bg3 oc#crown of karsus#bg3 spoilers#bg3:dhamari#kem oc#kem rambles#otp: woven in the storm#there are probably more points i could hit with further thought but eh just needed to word wall so this is what i've got#i love how contentious this relationship is sometimes#i love how flawed they both are and how much they struggle and yet they manage to figure it out#kem does bg3
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this was gonna be a semi serious post about inflation and the dollar from the perspective of a thirdworlder but it's way to vent-oriented to make sense as anything other than manic writhing in notes scattered about in a facility in a video game so whatever
I didn't want to derail this post and the general message of "food is too expensive and it should stop becoming more expensive" is the same but still
this is such a surreal post to read as someone who's lived in a "high inflation" country her whole life. a pound of butter 1 dollar??? 5 dollars??? a stick of of butter is like 700$ where I live. a month ago it was 500$ and next month we'll be paying it 1000 for sure
I understand that the price is more than 3x in the example but.. over 3 years? maybe my brain is completely fried by whatever chemical the government puts in the water to make us like futbol so much but that almost seems completely reasonable to me??
I cannot take any conversation about inflation from the us seriously. I'm unable to.
my perspective on what "1 dollar" means is so completely derailed and skewed I cannot get it through my head that it's a currency people use every day to buy gum and chips
I have dollars, in a drawer, kept in a sealed bag and neatly folded.
dollars are for big transactions. no one trusts the peso, if you buy a house, a car, a Motorbike even. the price will be in dollars and people will prefer if you pay them with them too
dollars are movie money. it's the default stand-in for "currency" when talking for many.
i might have slipped before when speaking English and say "this costed 30 dollars" when in reality I meant pesos
they're not the same, 30 pesos is not 30 dollars.
30 dollars is around 27.000 pesos.
and hey! big number I guess! but my mother and I went grocery shopping last week and spent 16k on a week and a half worth of stuff.
it doesn't fucking mean anything.
years ago,god knows how many, I would buy a sandwich every other day. it costed 12$ at first.
nowdays the same kind of sandwich will run you 800$
coins are now 10 or 5 pesos but the smallest bill that you're gonna need to buy anything is probably 100 ACTUALLY SCRATCH THAT LITERALLY NOTHING IS UNDER 100 NOWDAYS el guaimallen está 120 creo. the next big bill is 500.
you want a small meal at a cafe? you're looking at a 8k receipt at the very least. that's 8 1000 bills or 4 of the new and terribly ugly 2000 ones!
I don't know where I'm going with this, i guess the prices seem worse when the base number is higher, maybe I should start buying gold and shit fuck If I know.
quien chota nos mandó a ganar el mundial literalmente nada bueno vino después de eso saquenme de aca
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