#worrier writes

[hylianworrier]

My first Bloodweave fic still holds a special place in my heart!

Barrister Astarion meets Computing Professor Gale 💜♥️

[hylianworrier]

Chapter 10 of Rise and Fall is written, I'm too scared to post

Kicking through the burned remains he was caught off-guard by the cinders that remained of the clothes Gale had bought him when he first arrived, Astarion tried to wipe his cheeks, smearing charcoal over his pallid skin from his soot-stained fingers. He huffed in annoyance, scrubbing his face with his sleeve. He couldn’t face looking around any longer. He thought of the scarf Gale had gifted him last winter, the patchwork blanket he had stitched to cover the bed they shared. It was too much. The memories would be painful when he left, but to stand here any longer was surely more torturous.

I swear it's a sweet fic!

WIP Wednesday Friday

Thanks for the tag @busy-baker 💕

Here's a little something (everything else would be too much of a spoiler) from The Rockstar and the Groupie chapter 12:

His vision blurs, his heart aches, and he sends out his emergency message to the people he has on short dial. Including the Fearûn wide ambulance.

“I am in dire need of medical attention. Location attached” sent to Morena Dekarios, Astarion Ancunín and Faerûn Emergency.

no pressure tags: @cinnamontails-ff @larvasmoon @nivasichakano @slothquisitor @obsessedwhyyes @karinamay @kalmiaphlox

[chiropteracupola]

hrrrrrrrrgh argh augh i'm the historical fictions guy i SHOULD be able to write a historical fictions on PURPOSE when ASKED TO

[soulinkpoetry]

That’s why opposites attract. Worriers and over thinkers need someone who can make them laugh. Someone who makes them see that life isn’t as serious.

.

.

[crowempress]

I wanted to add the Canadian flag to my bio just for clarification but the flag has been used by shitty white supremacists here in Canada so I'm like -_-

[loafbud]

I SUBMITTED TWO QUIZZES AT THE LAST POSSIBLE MINUTE BEFORE THE DUE DATE ENDED

[kakusu-shipping]

HELP im sorry lol, the tags weren't working on your ask game reblog and now that I think about it, you probably had a specific f/o in mind...let's try this again!

how about gremio for '🍀'?

Hurray more Gremio writing!! And don't worry about it, I'm open to write for any F/O anyway. Gremio's just the most on the brain right now.

Prompt from Here

🍀 - Let's go outdoors! - Gremio and Tir (Parental F/O, Kin Self Insert)

First night on the Run

In which we have to camp for the first time ever.

"Alright, that's far enough for the day," Viktor dropped his bag to the side of the road, "This looks like a good enough spot to camp." He stretches his thick arms above his head, then collapsed into the lush grass.

"Camp?!" Gremio practically shrieked as he approched Viktor, "Didn't you say you were taking us to Lenankamp to meet some friend of yours???"

"Yeah, but we're not makin' it there before sun down and my legs are tired."

"So- What?? You expect us to??? Sleep out here?? By the roadside??? Where any number of Bandits or- Or monsters could get to us???"

"Yeah, pretty much," Viktor rested his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, completely unphased by Gremio's panicking.

Gremio opened his mouth to continue, but Cleo's hand on his shoulder made him pause.

"It'll be alright, Gremio. Surely you've had to camp while traveling before? It's not that bad, and there's hardly any bandits this close to the castle."

Gremio tightened his grip on his bag straps, then sighed, "Right... You're right Cleo it. Should be fine. I just... The young master's never camped before so I just.. worry-"

Viktor suddenly sat up, "Woah, hold on, kid," he turned his attention to Tir, who had been slowly trudging behind the party the entire way, "you've NEVER camped before?"

Tir shook his head no and Viktor gave a wide smile in response before jumping back to his feet, "Well then it's your lucky day!" The bear of a man threw his muscled arm over Tir's shoulder's, pulling him close, "Tonight we're roughin' it under the stars, and I'll teach you everythin' you need to know about campin'!"

Tir blinked, catching up out of his gloom, "We're... not going to Lenankamp...?"

"We're not gonna make it there tonight," Cleo explained, placing her bag beside Viktor's on the roadside, "so we're camping here. We should also figure out dinner."

"Tir and I can handle that!" Viktor proclaimed, "Wha'da say, kid, let's go huntin'!"

Tir tensed at the prospect of hunting, freezing up like a statue. Before Viktor could question him, Gremio pulled his axe from his back, "I'll handle dinner." He spoke with no room for argument, "Cleo, Young Master, would the two of you kindly gather some firewood?"

"We're on it." Cleo have a half salute, nudging Tir with her shoulder. The boy gave a weak smile, releasing the tension he was holding.

"What about me? This was MY idea after all." Protested Viktor.

Gremio gave the man a wary glance as he tied his long blond hair into a tight bun, he clearly still didn't trust him, "You can sit here and watch our bags." He practically hissed, before turning heel and walking into the nearby woods, Axe in hand.

Viktor huffed, Cleo laughed at Gremio's curtness before following after him. Tir hesitated a moment, then troted after Cleo, giving a glance over his shoulder to Viktor, who had collapsed back into the grass.

"This is AMAZING." Viktor spoke around a mouthful of rabbit stew, taking another large chug from his bowl.

"That's our Gremio," Cleo added another ladle full into her own bowl, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised he brought so much kitchen equipment with him."

Viktor reached for the ladle to refill his bowl from the pot hanging over the fire, but Gremio quickly snatched it out of his range.

"You've already had three bowls, and I said there was only enough for two!"

Viktor gave some half hearted whine, complimenting how good it was again, before Gremio took his empty bowl with a huff. Cleo laughed at the two of them bickering, she could only imagine the headache Gremio would have if Pahn was with them as well.

"Young master..." Gremio's voice was suddenly soft, Viktor glanced over to see Tir sitting with a full bowl, slowly stirring the cooling stew, "You should eat, before it gets cold."

Tir had been quiet the entire trip, and while Viktor didn't know the details, he knew the group was wanted by the Emperor, fleeing their home, and by the looks of the kid, leaving the capitol for the very first time.

"m not... hungry..." Tir mumbled, his head hung low. Viktor scooted closer to him.

"Hey, come on kid, you gotta eat. We got a lotta walkin' to do tomorrow. Plus this is REALLY good." He tried, but Tir just continued stirring his stew, staring into the bowl as he did.

Viktor could tell Tir's mood was contagious to the other two, Cleo had started mimicking him, stirring and not eating her own stew, and Gremio had placed his own half eaten bowl to the side. Viktor let out a sigh.

"Well that's just too bad, I was hoping I could show you my super special magic trick."

Tir blinked out his daze and finally raised his head, "Magic?" He questioned, "YOU can do Magic?"

Viktor laid back in the grass, his arms under his head, "Yeah. I can read your future by the lines left in your bowl."

"Really?" By the tone of his voice it didn't sound like Tir was believing a word Viktor said, but at least it snapped him out of his own head.

"Sure. Old ladies do it with tea leaves an' shit all the time. How hard could it be?" Tir glared at him, one of challenge, not malice. Viktor sat up and smirked, "What, don't believe me? Let me prove it then." He pointed to Tir's bowl, "Finish your dinner and I'll prove it."

"That was dumb." Gremio glared down at Viktor as he stamped out the camp fire.

"But it worked." Viktor said smugly, laying comfortably on his back in the grass.

"Tch..." Was all Gremio could give in response. The man looked out across the field to where Cleo and Tir were watching glowing flies. "...Thankyou."

"What was that?" Viktor rolled his head back, looking up at Gremio.

"I said thankyou. For helping our young master. And us..." He gave Viktor a glance, genuine and soft, then turned heel and walked over to Cleo and Tir.

Viktor rolled onto his stomach and watched as Gremio removed his cape and draped it over Tir as he spoke to Cleo. He watched Tir argue something back, making Cleo laugh before ruffling his hair, which prompted Gremio to swat her off before fixing the kid's hair, fussing over wrappign him in the large green cape at the same time.

What a weird group, Viktor thought, watching the three go about, weird... In a good way. Viktor smiled to himself.

Odessa will love them, for sure.

[astral-from-afar]

If there is one thing you should know about me is that I am an emotional wreck

[hylianworrier]

I Can Tell That You’re All In

Bloodweave AU

Illustrations for Expert Witness part 2!

[voltaspistol]

Not an invitation to cocoon yourself in a self-care bubble for four years, but a reminder to the 24/7 worriers that you can literally write "To Do on Monday: Worry about ________" on a post-it note and stop worrying about it for one day while you recharge.

[saiintvalentiine]

Literally dropped everything when i saw the fic update.

Unfortunately dont have anything smart to say (unless 3 lines of keysmashing counts as smart) but i am very excited for this fic. Your writing style is lovely and i want to eat it

(and your characterization! i'm a big fan of Parrot and i like how you've written him.) idk. good chapter i loved it

idk if 3 lines of keysmashing counts as smart but they do count as honest and we appreciate that in this house !!! and my writing is always available for eating LOL

it's always a gift to hear feedback on parrot's voice in my work, im so glad you're enjoying it! im trying my best to make him sound like him while also filtering that through wifies's POV so i worry a lot.

thanks!

[stolenslumber]

oh nooooooo i just saw the trailer for puppy love w/ lucy hale and grant gustin and why am i thinking that should be a jake fic

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 8: Cockwarming

Summary: You had no idea how you ended up in this position, slotted so prettily on your husband's aching cock as he left you to fend for yourself in the search for friction. Maybe you could convince him otherwise. Warnings: Cockwarming, the reader has a vagina, mentions of genitalia, pet names, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @redvexillum Their writing is so scrumptious, I can't believe I am honored enough to exist in the same world as their masterpieces.

You could hardly stand it anymore, the teasing. How his smug smirk, nonchalant attention made your skin crawl in delicious ways that you wouldn’t dare to admit aloud. But he knew, you didn’t have to tell him. Your fingers dug into the plush velvet of your husband’s seat, weeping cunt slotted perfectly on his hard and angry cock. Hair disheveled, lips puffy and red from how hard his teeth had assulated them mere minutes ago…you couldn’t stand him anymore. 

The green light illuminated the office, allowing the soft pitter-patter of rain to take on an eerie glow through the oval window. Cascading streams of water glistened, letting the green street lights shake and shift across the floor with each passing droplet. When you had visited your husband late into the night, the Eye of Zaun hard at work scanning over various papers, you had no idea what would occur. With a steaming cup of tea in your hand, the whisps of steam wafting off it in a comforting air that could soothe even the worriest of worriers. You had crossed the hardwood floor, placed it gently on his desk as you propped yourself up on the corner. 

“Silco…it’s been hours.”

The world swam in that window’s green light, the hard maroon cushion,and those bi-colored eyes that penetrated your soul when he looked up to observe your form. Neither eye displayed much emotion to the untrained eye but after so long you could nearly tell what your husband was thinking. The orange eye held depths of a fire unknown and the loving rage of a thousand comets hurling towards each other with a fire too hot to be extinguished until they met. The blue, however,  the crystal blue one showed the most restraint surprisingly. You were wearing more casual clothes, a button up white shirt and a pair of maroon suit pants. Nothing you would have deemed anything worth the heated and lustful gaze you were receiving. 

“I know, my dear. But Zaun waits for no man.”

Filting around his chair, you sat in his lap, running your nimble fingers through the locks of his slicked back hair. Cooing softly as his head craned back in relaxation, you thought you had finally won him over for the night. 

“My dear, if you keep that up I will have no choice but to indulge myself in what else that heavenly body of yours can offer me.”

Choking back a surpirsed gasp, a frantic blush coating your cheeks, you halted your movements. You had no idea what had warranted such a bold reaction from the Industrailist, but here it seems that you had done something. 

That is how you ended up now, pussy full of cock, drooling onto the shoulder lining of Silco’s vest as he did nothing. Sliding slightly, attempting to get more friction, to feel him deeper inside you, his rough fingers came to grip your hips in a bruising manner. 

“Shhh now pet. You did this to yourself, looking so delicatable while I work.”  His breath was hot against the shell of your ear, one hand returning to scribble some notes down on the paper he was viewing while the other stayed on your hip. You let out a desperate whimper, grinding your hips down once more in a plea. Your nails dug into the fabric of his chair, tearing the material slightly. Growling into your ear that the friction you had caused, your husband roughly bucks his hips up into you. 

“Behave yourself. I’ll treat you well soon enough love…”

Guess you were here for a while then. 

[ronmanmob]

Tag a quality blog, You’re it! Quality doesn’t means that you have a lot of followers, or a lot of messages. It means that you’re nice to other people, and you deserve to be happy. If you get this message, someone is telling you that they love you as you are, and they don’t care how many followers you have. Send this to 15 blogs who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen. But it’s just good to let someone know that you love them. 💙

[flawseer]

Your thoughts on the wof characters have been really interesting and I'd love to hear your take on Starflight (your assignment of him being the 'designated sufferer' of arc one is both hilarious and tragically accurate). I've always liked him, cowardly though he is he still acts when he really needs to and the dynamic between him and Tsunami is super fun (the whole outwardly combative but inwardly just wishing to be as strong/as smart as the other).

I like Starflight and I relate to him a lot, as a fellow chronic worrier who annoys his friends with constant blathering about stuff only I find interesting, and often finding myself paralyzed in the face of decisions.

It’s funny how the story puts forward a black dragon, which in media are usually portrayed as mysterious, ambiguously malevolent harbingers of doom, and makes him into this adorable dork.

He’s also the plot’s chew toy, which I am at times less enthusiastic about. Especially when jokes are made at the expense of his misfortune.

Wings of Night and Sea

Starflight’s and Tsunami’s friendship is very engaging because, in a sense, both of them complete each other. For each, emulating the other serves as their last resort when faced with a personal crisis. Whenever Tsunami encounters a situation she cannot overcome with her usual blunt and direct approach, she asks herself how Starflight would resolve the situation. When Starflight becomes overwhelmed and too scared to move, his mind conjures an image of the strongest, bravest, most unstoppable thing he knows, which is Tsunami. Though either would be reluctant to openly admit it to each other, they both rely on each other’s strengths to cover their own weaknesses.

Through this you get the sense that, while their opposite personalities annoy each other to no end—if you locked both of them in a room for three hours, they’d be strangling each other when you open the door again—at their core they have only the deepest respect for each other. It becomes especially apparent when you realize that both of their stories in their respective books have them compare themselves to the other unfavorably.

If these two ever did a DBZ-style fusion dance, the result would likely be one of the most capable and balanced characters in their series.

Starflight's misfortune

CW: Discussion of blindness

One thing I have noticed (and have alluded to a lot in previous posts) is that the plot really likes to kick Starflight in the teeth. His own story arc puts him through the wringer, but he is not even safe in the two arcs past that, where he is largely out of focus. Most of the things that happen to him in arc 1 seem to occur for the sake of the story, but past that... it sometimes feels to me like the world has it in for this guy.

I started writing a list of every bad thing that happens to Starflight over all three arcs, but it got way too long, so now I’m just going to talk about a few select things instead.

One thing that stands out to me is that every other protagonist in arc 1 gets a specific moment. That kind of scene where they enter their tribe’s biome for the first time or connect with a particular part of their culture/physiology, and are overcome with a sudden burst of euphoria or deep resonance with their own nature. Clay gets it when he submerges himself in mud for the first time and then later again when he finds his siblings, Tsunami when she sees and smells the ocean, Glory when she’s in the rainforest and feels the sun, and Sunny when they go through the magic tunnel and end up in the desert. Starflight is the only arc 1 protagonist who doesn’t get a moment like this; when he enters his tribe’s home for the first time it’s a giant craphole that makes him feel upset. It only gets worse from there.

Then there is the big one; the misfortune that happens to him at the end of his book. I struggle to talk about this because... uh... How do I put this?

I opened this post by saying I relate to Starflight on a personal level. I wouldn’t consider myself as studious or well-read as him, so it’s not a direct comparison, but I do like to draw, write and dabble in visual artistry. This is a major part of my life; how I define myself as a person and what I think makes me “me”. The thing about this though is that all of this is tied up into one thing: my sense of sight.

It follows then that what ends up happening to Starflight is the realization of the one thing I fear the most. Thinking about the possibility of losing ones sight is deeply, personally horrifying to me. It messes me up internally just to consider it happening to me.

This, the subject of becoming blind, is a very difficult topic for any story to properly engage with. There are many pitfalls you can fall into and come off as insensitive, or ignorant. The way Wings of Fire deals with this subject is to... well... it doesn’t really. Starflight is blinded and then the story skips over most of his reaction to it because the next POV character gets separated from the group while they sort it out.

In a way, this is a good thing. I don’t know how this series—which often rushes through these really uncomfortable, harrowing events—would be able to show a realistic reaction to this development. Like, losing ones sight would be a horrifying prospect for anyone, but for Starflight especially this completely uproots not only his entire life, but his sense of identity. Everything he likes doing, everything he is and wants to be in life is rendered virtually impossible by this.

Consider who Starflight is. He is a thinker, and a worrier who is always inside his own head. He dreads and fears, he seeks out worst case scenarios, I daresay he is inclined towards pessimism. Whenever his neuroticism gets him too stressed, or emotional, or worried, he has one immediate response: bury his nose in a scroll. When he arrives in a new place, he usually asks where the scrolls are at. When he is under threat of being abducted or attacked, his first instinct is to go grab his scrolls to keep them safe. Like with me and drawing, reading is how he unwinds, how he balances himself. It is what keeps him sane and functional through dealing with adversity (and he's Starflight, so he deals with a lot of adversity).

Then this happens to him, and suddenly the one thing that makes this poor, battered boy happy, the one thing that never hurts him, is taken away forever. If I was in his place, if I learned I was suddenly blind, I would fall apart. I would cry, then scream, then cry AND scream and probably flail around in a panic. Clay would have to hold me down and restrain me so I don’t end up falling off the platform in a frenzied fit. Or worse.

So yeah, I get why the plot had to look away. Seeing this happen to Starflight—him going through this kind of anguish and then sinking into quiet despair as his world crumbles around him—would have been heartbreaking. In the end, we go on Sunny’s solo adventure and when she returns Starflight is already conveniently past the screaming fit phase and has adjusted to his new life circumstances—enough to talk and joke as if nothing happened. He then goes on to dedicate himself to bringing the wonders of literature to other blind dragons, which is a noble goal and good trajectory for his character—even if it’s a bit abrupt and I would have liked to SEE him do that instead of just being told.

Anyway.

This next one isn’t as notable because it doesn’t happen TO him, but I want to point it out to back up my claim that Starflight Ls can and will happen even in story arcs that have very little to do with him. In book 6 Moonwatcher and Darkstalker have a conversation where they discuss the concept of Nightwing powers and how they relate to the moons. The story very pointedly draws attention to the fact that Starflight nearly was born under three full moons and would have become the most powerful Nightwing of his generation if his inept caretakers had not decided to hatch him underground. While I don’t think getting these powers would have been good for Starflight in the long run, it is a bit sad considering he spent most of his childhood thinking he was born wrong because he didn’t have powers, and then Morrowseer further gaslit him about it throughout the arc.

And then we don't talk about what happens in arc 3. I am not the right person to discuss it.

My take on Starflight

I was asked to give my take on the character, so...

I already went into how I think he’s very introspective and prone to worrying. I see him as an introvert, which is something he has in common with Glory, and contrast him with Sunny, Clay, and especially Tsunami. He enjoys reading but also other activities where he gets to use his brain. He likes puzzles; I imagine he got very excited when they had to figure out the murder plot in book 2, or when he caught Blister in a lie. If he had a computer it would be full of adventure and puzzle games, and he’d hog the resident DS to play the Professor Layton series all the time.

When they found the academy, it is implied he teaches a literacy course and gives out writing assignments. That is right up his alley, but I’ve always felt he also has strong math/natural science teacher vibes. There should logically be a numbers class at that school and I can’t imagine any other character who would be more suited to teach it.

If I were asked where I would make changes to his story, I guess I would nix the part where he and Fatespeaker hook up in book 5. I have nothing against their relationship, it’s actually grown a lot on me over time. But I never liked how it started. Starflight gets rejected by Sunny and then immediately hooks up with Fatespeaker. This is really undignified for her because it takes their potentially intriguing romantic relationship and turns her into Starflight’s “rebound chick”. You really need to give yourself some time to move on from your previous attraction; rushing like this creates doomed relationships.

The original story implies that about half a year passes between the end of arc 1 and the start of arc 2. I like to pretend this gap is actually a bit longer, by like 2 or 3 years. It gives the old protagonists a bit more time to settle into the roles they’ll occupy during the next arc, and makes it more plausible to me that they could build and outfit an entire school, write the curriculum, designate roles, etc..

In that time, with things being more calm now, Starflight has opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts again. It turns out, now that the dangers of the war are no longer distracting him, he finds it difficult to cope with his blindness and sinks into a depression.

While this happens, Fatespeaker is there with him. She sees his condition worsening by the day, but refuses to give up on him. She reads to him; they talk, and they bond. Though serious self-searching and hard work, together they manage to pull out of the darkness eventually. This is how their relationship starts, and it’s also how Starflight gets the idea to invent the dragon-equivalent of braille.

Somewhere during that time, I also imagine Glory has Tamarin escorted to Jade Mountain so she can help Starflight adjust to his new situation and learn how to navigate his life without needing to rely on others. Perhaps this is what motivates Tamarin to attend the academy later.

What else is there to say? Hmm...

I think Starflight is really fond of hard candy. Jawbreakers are his favorite especially. Though given how prone to misfortune he is in the story, I’m hesitant to put him in proximity of anything with a name like that.

[luveline]

Jade I’ve been WAITING and HOPING for you to ask about spider verse and/or Miguel requests. He is the epitome of grumpy love interest falls for sunshine reader, would you maybe write something where he’s like in the midst of being scary and intimidating and then when reader walks in he is trying to maintain that image in front of whoever else is there but she just like totally ignores it and basically exposes how soft he is?

Obviously feel free to take or leave whatever parts of that you like I just love grumpy x sunshine

SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW

thank you for your request! for you my love, grumpy (lovesick) miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader, 1.5k

Miguel spends a lot of time arguing with Peter B. Parker, or as you've so fondly nicknamed him, Sweatpants-Man. Well, Miguel spends a lot of time yelling at him. It stopped for a while; Peter B. Parker took some time away from the Spider Society, but eventually he returned with a brand new spider. A baby girl. 

You linger at the door, startled to find him in company, but pleased when he isn't yelling as loudly as he could be. He looks desperately as though he wants to shout, and is holding back through sheer force of will, his eyes widened and his hair falling in unruly waves over his forehead, strands of it curled into his eyes. 

Miguel is a worrier. It isn't his fault. He's a great man with responsibilities beyond his control, and he may not always react how he should, but he tries his best. You don't agree with everything he does, but you like him. You adore him. For all of his goodness, his bravery, and the smile he gives you when you're alone. 

He's clearly troubled by something. 

"I don't really see the harm, I won't tell him a thing," Peter B. Parker says.

"Why do you refuse to listen to me? No. End of discussion." 

"I think we should reopen the discussion," Peter B. Parker says. 

He and Miguel are friends, you think. They would have been best buddies by now if Peter could abide by Miguel's rules. Then again, you ignore the rules often and indiscriminately, and Miguel likes you.

He's scraping his hair out of his eyes now, a fierce glare fixed on Peter's face, and you have the urge to go in there and try to persuade him to give Peter whatever it is he's asking for. You're almost certain you could do it. 

Not through your sheer mastery of the persuasive arts, though you have mastered them, but because Miguel O'Hara has a soft spot for you. He tries to hide it and you refuse to let him. You haven't tried to kiss him or anything (you secretly aren't that brave) but you run circles around him for fun, only letting him boss you around every now and then to keep things loose. You could be much meaner about the whole thing: what is so humiliating as falling for your lackadaisical subordinate? But you don't hold it against him, because he likely isn't finished falling yet, and because you really do like him. 

You pull your mask off of your face and then your gloves, shoving them into a concealed pocket on your thigh. 

"Miguel," you murmur, knowing he'll hear you no matter the volume, "what's wrong?" 

Miguel doesn't glance your way. 

Peter B. Parker's shoulders sag in relief at your appearance. "Thank god you're here," he says. 

You hadn't realised Peter knew who you were. "I'm here," you repeat mildly. 

"Tell Miguel that the risk involved with visiting Earth-1610 is super, duper small." 

"Well, it is negligible," you murmur, though Peter's quest isn't your prerogative. 

Miguel groans loud and unapologetically. 

You stand near Miguel and look up at him. He's ridiculously tall. You’d have to crane your neck if you stood at his feet. You maintain some distance and look him over from a gentler incline, cataloguing the dark circles under his eyes for the hundredth time. They don't look too bad today, but you wish he'd get more rest. 

He has a very fierce face, but you know how it softens when he laughs. It's hard to find his glaring intimidating when you've witnessed the white flash of sharp teeth as he smiles, the way his eyes light up and his eyebrows relax from their stern set when you bring him something to eat on late nights. It's almost always smothered as soon as it happens, but it does happen. 

"The risk involved is not super small," he says, still not looking at you, "the risk involved is actually incredibly big, and it isn't worth it." 

Peter puts his arms out just as Mayday drops from the rafters above. You huff a laugh at his coordination and Mayday starts to laugh, her knitted beanie drooping into her eyes. 

"Hi, baby," you say softly, reaching out to hold her hand. She squeezes your fingers. 

"It's worth the risk. Absolutely, it's worth the risk, and I would argue that me visiting would actually strengthen the state of the multiverse–" 

"In what scenario–" 

"–and, like, make your job easier." Peter stops Mayday from climbing up your shoulder. 

"If there's one thing you've never done, Peter, it's make my job easier. I can't believe you're asking me again," Miguel says, taking a big breath, like he's going to pop. 

You step away from Peter to catch Miguel's attention. When his eyes lock onto yours, you smile as fondly as you're able, the kind of smile you know he likes. Your eyes widen just a touch and your eyebrows rise, the corners of your mouth not quite dimpling. It's a smile that says all the same stuff you love to say aloud. Hi, handsome. What's got you so stressed today? 

"Don't be like that, Miguel," Peter says. 

You tilt your head to one side. "You don't look very well," you say. 

"I'm fine." There's a thread of gentleness there, almost indistinguishable from his serious tone. "Or I would be, if Peter would listen to me for once." 

"I'm listening, man, I just think you should see sense." 

Miguel's face flickers like he wants to correct him, but he keeps getting caught on you. Nothing specific, just that his gaze lands on your face or your shoulder or your arm before he looks at Peter, and all the steam rushes out of him. He’s trying not to smile at you.

"I see sense," Miguel insists. It's like he wants to be angrier than he has, gritting his teeth weakly. "It's not feasible right now." 

You smile at that. Right now. You're not sure he's ever said something that could lead to a compromise. You are sure that he hadn't meant to. Peter is understandably thrilled, hiding his own smile as he puts Mayday back into her carrier. 

"Alright. Well, I've gotta take her home. But I'll see you both again soon," Peter threatens, wiggling his eyebrows. "Thank you," he adds, nodding at you. 

You laugh as he leaves. Miguel is nowhere near as pleased. 

"You did that on purpose," Miguel says. 

"I did what on purpose?" 

"Coming in here." 

"Yeah, of course. I come to see you all the time on purpose. Did you think I was drifting in here on the breeze? That would be difficult, considering." You gesture to the entrance of his office, which is far from easily accessible. 

Miguel looks at you, unimpressed, with his hands on his hips. You wonder what it would take to make him put his hands on yours. 

"Don't even think about it," he says. 

"About what, handsome?" 

"You think I don't know what that look means?" He sounds fond rather than angry. It's a win. 

"I bet you know, but I'm in the dark, so if you'd… illuminate it for me, that would be greatly appreciated." 

He checks that no one's about to enter his office. You feel your heart jerk in your chest, and if his super senses are anything like the other Spider People, he can hear it. 

"You really can't come in here when I'm trying to set people straight," he says. 

"Why?" you ask. You could pout at him, but you think that might be too much. 

"You know why." Somewhere between words he drifts closer, soundless, his face inching down toward yours with a surprising swiftness. "You know why," he repeats.

You lift your chin as much as you dare, which isn't much, but enough that your giggly confirmation fans over his lips, "Yes, I do." 

He nudges you away, and it isn't without affection. His warm, big hand lingers on your shoulder, even as he says, "Go, go do something." 

"Miguel, I came to see you." 

"I know, and I have a meeting with Jess in a minute, so you can't be here. It'll undermine my authority." 

"What will?" you ask, smiling, because you already know. His fondness for you. 

"Go away. Come and see me later," he says. 

You sigh and spin away from him. "I will, but not because you told me to!" you call, leaving the office with an awful sense of victory. 

Miguel scrubs his face with his hands as you go. He's really not sure what he's going to do with you. His plan to hold you at arm’s length isn’t working anymore, and honestly? He doesn’t think he could stand it a minute longer. Thank whoever’s watching over him that you actually do as he asks for once and leave. 

Miguel was one sweet smile away from kissing you up against the wall.