#yes i have a problem 🤧

[coff33andb00ks]

oh hey here it is y'all now read

what if?

unrequited love, best friend!lando blurb request from @foreveralbon! liyah gave me the choice of which side the unrequited love came from and unfortunately, i chose to break lando’s heart. please forgive me. i tried to find a pic where he looked a little sad but i don't want him sad so i strayed completely from the vibe of this blurb. also yes, if anyone was wondering, i named the male oc aaron because of aaron hotchner. can't tell if i love or hate this so go easy on me lol pairing: fem!reader x best friend!lando (platonic), fem!reader x oc male word count: 2.1k summary: it’s finally time for your friends to meet someone special. you’re in love with him, and lando has to come to terms with that. tw: unrequited love, heartbroken lando

Your phone buzzed from across the room, a familiar ringtone echoing through the air letting you know that Lando was finally returning your call.

“I sincerely hope you haven’t been avoiding me because you’re planning on ditching my dinner party tonight,” you scolded as soon as you picked up the phone.

“I would never,” Lando gasped. “I was on the sim and had my phone on silent – do you need me to bring anything? How many people will be there?”'

“Oh, not too many at all, I’ve got everything I need. I asked Max, Pietra, Carlos, Rebecca, Charles, and Alex. Oh, and Maxie is coming and bringing someone, can you believe it? I’m so glad he’s finally moving on from Kelly. Oscar and Lily can’t make it – he’s got a family thing, but he promised a double lunch ‘date’ when they’re back in Monaco next week.”

“Geez, why are all of our friends in loving relationships or dating except us, huh? Look at us, the old spinsters!”

You didn’t miss the sadness in his voice even though he tried to mask it with a joke, which made your next admission even harder than you thought it would be.

“Actually, I have someone I want you to meet,” you said quietly.  “His name is Aaron and he’ll be here tonight.”

“Really?” Lando coughed, hoping to mask the sound of himself choking on air. “It must be pretty serious for you if he’s meeting all of us – how, um, how long? Have you been seeing him?”

You knew he’d ask and you didn’t want to answer, afraid that he would be upset you’ve kept this from him for so long. You’ve always shared everything with him for the past five years, but for a few subjectively good reasons, you’d kept this a secret until now.

“Please don’t be mad,” you mumbled. “I’ve been seeing him for about seven months but I wasn’t hiding it on purpose or anything, I swear, I just didn’t want to ask you to prioritize meeting my boyfriend during the season. It was too soon to introduce you over summer break, now was just the best time.”

You heard Lando exhale on the other end of the line – whether it was a sigh of annoyance, relief, or anger, you couldn’t tell.

“I get it, don’t worry,” he forced out. “I know I’m never around. I’m excited to meet him, I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

Before you could say anything else, Lando ended the call.

Lando hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire evening – introductions had gone perfectly, all of your friends seemed to love Aaron, conversation was flowing smoothly, but it was painfully obvious, at least to you, that something was up with Lando.

You’d barely gotten through dessert when the onslaught of relationship questions started coming your way – mainly from Charles, if you can believe it. Aaron had started on cleaning up the kitchen and Charles didn’t hesitate to bombard you as soon as Aaron had left the room.

“So, how did you guys meet? How did he ask you out? Tell me everything.”

“Charles!” Alex scolded. “Don’t interrogate her, she’ll tell us if she’s ready!”

You smiled in thanks at Alex, although you knew she was just as eager to hear you tell the tale.

“Actually, I have Lando to thank,” you smiled at Lando, turning your attention towards him for a brief moment. “The day we met, I was supposed to be having lunch with him but he got caught up in a meeting and was running way late. Aaron saw me sitting alone and thought I’d been stood up, introduced himself, and then gave me this cheesy line about how someone was missing out on a date with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Rebecca sighed and fixed her gaze on Carlos – “why aren’t you that romantic?”

“I’m perfectly romantic,” Carlos countered. “Remember when I – ”

Pietra interrupted and shushed him abruptly, “Y/N isn’t done talking, you can defend yourself later.”

“Anyway,” you laughed, “I told him that I was waiting for my best friend and he offered to buy me a drink while I waited, but Lando had texted about five minutes before that he was on his way. So, I turned him down, but he left a note with the hostess and asked her to give it to me when I was on my way out. It was just the next day’s date, a time, and the name of a wine bar nearby signed with his name. I showed up and the rest is history, he charmed me.”

“I didn’t know it was Lando you were waiting on,” Aaron chimed in, walking into the dining room. He stopped next to Lando’s chair, holding his hand out for a handshake. “As a lifelong McLaren fan, I never thought I’d be thanking Lando Norris for arriving late, but thank you. You changed my life that day.”  

Lando slowly shook his hand and with gritted teeth responded, “Yeah, man, no problem. Glad I could help, seriously.”

From the looks on everyone’s faces, it was now clear to you that you weren’t the only one who noticed something was wrong with Lando.

He’d barely said a word all evening, and from the tone of his voice, it definitely was a problem and he was not glad he could help.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, I’m going to get some air,” you announced, rising quickly from your chair. “Lando, come with me? Aaron, I’ll finish up in the kitchen later, why don’t the rest of you get comfortable in the living room?”

Begrudgingly, Lando followed you out to your patio. It was surprisingly chilly for mid-December and the sudden gust of wind that pulled a shiver from you wasn’t helping at all. You had barely stopped shivering when you felt Lando’s jacket drape across you, his hands smoothing the shoulders down before he took his place next to you against the balcony.

“There he is,” you crooned. “My kind and considerate best friend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You turned your head to face him rather than look at the view, your eyebrows furrowing together and a sick feeling creeping into your stomach.

“Do you not like Aaron?” You asked quietly, the frown on your face deepening. “Everyone else seems to love him, did he say something to you? You were a little…off just now, are you mad he’s a McLaren fan? I promise you, he is not dating me to get to you or any other crazy idea you may have concocted. He didn’t even know we were friends for the first three months.”

Lando didn’t answer you, his eyes still trained on the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. He was picking at his fingernails – something he only did when he was anxious or upset.

“Please say something,” you pleaded. “I, gosh I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I'm in love with him, Lando. If you have reservations or concerns, please be honest with me. Your opinion means a lot to me, more than I thought it would.”

The silence was deafening – still no response for what felt like ages, the sick feeling in your stomach growing more prominent with every passing second.

“You love him?” Lando finally spoke, looking down, out, away – anywhere but at your face.

“Yes, I do. Like, a scary amount. I’m terrified, actually, but in the best way. I never thought I’d find love like this, Lan.”

“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it?” Lando laughed, a humorless laugh, and backed away from the railing to sit on one of your deck chairs – his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Before you could voice your confusion, he looked up at you, a sadness in his eyes you’d never seen before.

“He’s annoyingly wonderful and perfect for you, Y/N,” he began. “As soon as I walked in tonight, I knew. He barely let you lift a finger, remembered facts about everyone in there and was sincerely happy to get to know everyone. He gravitates towards you, smiles whenever you speak, always wants to be near you, and holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him. He treats you how I would treat you if I were lucky enough to be in his shoes. And the way he looks at you? I know that look,” he paused, closing his eyes tightly. “It’s the way I look at you.”

The sick feeling in your stomach turned to dread and you felt your heart squeezing in your chest, a mix of a gasp and a sob climbing out of your throat.

“Lando, I – ”

“It’s ok,” he smiled, staring directly at you with watery eyes. “I love you. I know it’s one-sided, and that’s ok. I promise you, it’s okay. I just needed you to know, and not because I thought it would change your feelings for him or to confuse you, you just deserve to know. I’ve kept it from you for far too long and I wish this wasn't how or why I finally told you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, your hand shaking as you reached for Lando’s, gripping it so tight you thought you might leave a bruise.

“I’m sorry, Lando,” you cried. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I – I never would have made you come or said those things if I had known.”

Guilt crawled its way into the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Some of your friends and family members had alluded to his feelings for you over the years, but you always ignored them, insisting that you were just friends, best friends, but you secretly sometimes felt that there may be some truth in it. You wished more than anything in that moment that you had taken that feeling more seriously.

“I didn’t want you to know, it’s my fault you didn’t know,” Lando insisted. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“If you need some time, some distance, I can respect that,” you offered, though the thought of Lando agreeing to that was unbearably painful.

“No, no, I’ll be ok. It’ll take some time for me to move on but I’d rather deal with the pain of being close to you while I get over you than not have you in my life for however long it takes. All that matters to me is that you’re happy, and if Aaron makes you happy, I can live with that.”

Selfishly, you sighed in relief, squeezing the hand you were holding before pulling away from him. Your friendship would feel different for a while, but you could manage different; you could manage anything as long as Lando remained a fixture in your life.

“I think I’m going to go,” he whispered, rising from the chair and sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ve made things awkward enough for one evening, don’t you think?”

You started to assure him he did no such thing, but when you saw the smirk on his face you knew he’d said it to try to relieve the heaviness that had settled over you. You handed him back his jacket, smoothing the shoulders down once he’d put it on just as he did for you earlier. Small, tentative smiles graced both of your faces before you pulled him into a gentle hug, hesitating just enough to allow him to back away if it was too much for him.

He squeezed you once tightly and then let go – the quickness of it expected, but the fact he accepted it at all gave you hope that everything would be ok.

You watched him as he reached for the door handle to go inside, but he paused and turned around just before he grabbed hold.

“Would it have made a difference? If I had told you before you met him?”

You weren’t sure which answer would hurt him more, but you were always honest with him and that wasn’t going to change now.

“No, Lando, it wouldn't have. I do love you, I always have and always will, but I'm not in love with you. I've never thought of you in that way, I'm sorry.”

He nodded once, accepting your answer, and then he was gone. You were being truthful, and Lando knew without a doubt that you were, but he also knew in his heart and soul that you would always and forever be his biggest “what if?”.

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taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @anaviieiraaa @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun

if you would like to be tagged in any of my fics please refer to this post or send a message to my inbox!

[paddockletters]

redeemed | lando norris

summary: After a messy breakup, Lando’s fans blame his best friend for ruining his relationship. request: yes! sorry took me too long :(( tbh, this had been sitting in drafts for a while because i wasn’t entirely convinced about it (still not 100%, to be fair), but i thought, “Well, maybe they’ll like it,” so here it issss

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and 982,273 others

landonorris: Another race weekend!

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user1: I want to be Y/N so baaaad🤧 lando’sgf: love you so muchhhh!!!❤️ user2: Y/N made it again in Lando’s post, love them! user3: I’d love a friendship like Lando and Y/N’s 😭😭😭

yourusername: Great weekend, miss you alredy muppet 🤧❤️

landonorris: It was! When are you coming to visit again?

user4: Lando replied to Y/N but not his gf…💀💀 user5: THE fit, THE smile, THE overtakes 😭 user6: She really needs to back off from Lando and Alice user7: Photo 3 >>> everything else 🫠

lando’sgf posted a story.

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55 and 76,261 others

yourusername: About last month 💗

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carlossainz55: Feeling special for being in your post 🤧

yourusername: You should, cos it won’t happen again 💀

user8: Lando’s smile in the 3rd photo? how do I sign up for your life? 😭 user9: She can’t post without Lando or some driver in it 🤮

user10: True that, she’s all about the fame

user11: living my dream life AND looking flawless while doing it?❤️😭 user12: always getting in the way of Lando and Alice, proper messing with them 🙄

user13: what are you on about? Lando and Y/N have been friends for yearsss 🤡

user14: well, why didn’t anyone know about her till now? she just wants Lando for the fame, no doubt

landonorris posted a story

lando’s gf posted a story.

lando’s gf

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lando’s gf: ❤️❤️

landonorris

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landonorris: Free time when I’m not driving a F1 car around the world

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user15: Lando— HAHAHA

user16: where’s Alice???

user17: y'all are obsessed with his gf, mind your own business ffs

user18: Bet Y/N’s asking Lando not to take Alice 🙄

user19: giiiirl, touch some grass! Alice has been back in her country

user20: Y/N’s always with Lando, so he’s footing the bill for everything

user21: Everything, mate—GP trips, holidays, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got him paying her rent too 🤮

user22: I wouldn’t want to be Alice, seeing Y/N everywhere around Lando 💀

landonorris just posted a story.

yourusername posted a story

yourusername

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yourusername: [No caption]

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user23: an unexpected crossover user24: Oh, so the gold-digger’s moved on to someone else now? user25: Hope you’re proud of yourself for ruining Lando and Alice’s relationship, biTCH user26: Hope you die

carlossainz55: should I feel proud because you went to a Real Madrid match or bad for "L" because you went out with someone from that team???

carlossainz55: nah, estoy orgulloso

user27: stay away from Lando, you slut

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lando’sex-girlfriend

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lando’sex-girlfriend: A little miracle is on the way, and we couldn’t be more excited. 👼

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user28: Nearly had a heart attack, thought Lando was going to be a dad 😭😭😭 user29: No way, she was the one who cheated 💀 user30: 💀

landonorris

Liked by charles_leclerc and 1,928,388 others

landonorris:  I lost the best thing in my life because of all of you.

Because of your words, your hate, your accusations. You turned her into the villain when all she ever was, was my best friend.

You all tore us apart, pushed me to let go of the one person who truly mattered, all because you couldn’t mind your own business.

And now, seven months later, I see the truth—she was never the problem. I was. I should’ve fought for her. But instead, I let you win.

I’ll never forgive myself for that. I lost her because of you.

—Lando

View all the commments

user31: lando, you did what you thought was best at the time. We’re all human, and nobody should have been attacking her like that

user32: we judged her without knowing the full story 🤧

user33: can’t believe we believed the lies

user 34: I feel so bad now

danielricciardo: Lando, I’ve got your back. It’s crazy how people act like they know your life when they don’t 🤛

user35: It’s hard to see things clearly when the pressure is on you. Glad you’re speaking out now, nobody deserves that kind of hate, especially someone as good

user36: It’s obvious she meant a lot to you but the media and fans never understood that

user37: We were too quick to judge her

maxverstappen1: People love to talk without knowing the full story. Stay strong, mate, always here if you need to talk 🤜🤜

time skip

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and 2,951,052 others

landonorris: I don’t think there’s anyone who deserves this more than her. From being the absolute boss she is in everything she touches to owning this year’s CEO of the Year award (seriously, she’s amazing), I couldn’t be prouder I of course I’m the best wag

View all the commments

user38: YOUR WIFE?!?!? 😱 i can’t even process it. Lando, what’s happening?!

user39: wait, I thought you were single?? How did we miss this??

user40: no… I THOUGHT THE WERE FRIENDSS????

user41: wait a damn minute—Lando’s married??!! And she’s holding CEO of the year??? I need answers 😭

user42: OH MY GODDD She’s literally living the dream!! And Lando, we all knew you were the best, but now you’ve just confirmed it

user43: HE’S MARRIED?!? And she’s CEO OF THE YEAR?!?! You guys are literally goals

user44: i’m happy for you but also I’m crying in my room so… mixed emotions 🫠🧡

user45: Y/N is literally TOO perfect and it’s offensive to the rest of us 😭😭😭

user46: No hate, but also… I’m fighting for my life over here while Y/N is living my dream 😭

user47: @/yourusername you wake up every day and think, ‘how can I flex on everyone today?’ Because wow 💀

[inosukijiro]

𝗚𝗜𝗬𝗨𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗦 𝗔 𝗖𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗛

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu is wholeheartedly in love with you.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. no bc i am making this man a pathetic simp for you idc. im writing these with myself in mind so yk, i have to pour out my feelings. and also i need to get all this giyuu writing off my chest, its actually a problem the fixation i have on this man but no fics tickle my brain just right so i have to write them myself

━ 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. btw thank you so much for all the love and support on my last two posts. literally you all are so incredibly sweet !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i just graduated college so i might have a bit more time to write but no promises!

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. none. giyuu might be a little ooc. modern reader in kny. i rewrote this a few times so pls be nice 🤧. 1.4k words.

━ 𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙩. im just going though and adding a synopsis and fixing my titles. og title: falling for you.

Giyuu actually doesn’t know how this occurred. No, actually that was a lie. He knew how this happened, but didn’t at the same time. And honestly speaking, the man does not care at all. You were so nice and sweet to Giyuu it made his head spin. Like it makes him ill in the best way imaginable. He doesn’t understand why you want to be around him so much, why you want to be his friend – not that he minds – but he just can’t get past his own indiscretions about himself. That was until you told him to his face.

You tell him that you thought he was cute – I'm sorry? – and you liked how calm he was – really? His brain can’t compute anything that you say. He doesn’t know if you need any medical assistance or he’s just dreaming. But it makes you laugh. The cute, dumb look on his face as he stands there, gaping at you like a fish.

It wasn’t like it was new information. You did enjoy his company the most. He was very quiet and by no means were you either, but you have this habit of matching the energy of people you were with. So, it was almost relaxing and refreshing spending time with Giyuu. Though Giyuu is silent most of the time, he does in fact talk. At first it's about a mission he was on recently, if and most likely when he gets more comfortable with you, he’s talking a little more in depth about random things that are on his brain. It's endearing really. Or sometimes he’s just talking about things that he thinks you might like to know, random facts, and so on.

But sometimes you do the talking and he likes that too. You could talk for hours and he could listen to every word you have to say. He would soak it up like a sponge as you focus your eyes on the crochet hooks weaving in front of you. Your voice is quiet and nice, soft and warm sounding.

This typically happens when you visit his estate. And you visit his estate a lot. Maybe Giyuu was a little disappointed that you weren’t staying with him, but he knows that he shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds. He’s lucky enough to see you this much, as much as he's lucky to see you at all. He can’t be too mad though. Mitsuri has jumped you the first moment she got when the Master had brought up your living arrangements. You had nowhere to go. And honestly, Giyuu may have been a little relieved that Mitsuri of all people had gotten to you first.

He really wouldn’t have minded if it had been Rengoku or Gyomei. For obvious reasons, Rengoku would be happy to have him stopped by and probably Gyomei too, because it seems like they don’t have a bone to pick with him. Honestly speaking, he wouldn’t have minded Muichiro either, though the boy would have probably forgotten your existence within the day. But any of the others, the thought made his skin crawl for plenty of reasons. Maybe it was because it would have become a hassle, or he would be harassed every time he went to visit you. Yes, it does seem on par with him that might just avoid you so you don’t get verbally assaulted like he does if you were to associate with him. But he was a lonely, pathetic man who was enamored with you at first glance the minute you showed up out of nowhere and he couldn’t help but thank the heavens that the stars had aligned so nicely for him – even if he felt he didn’t deserve it.

His only issue with the arrangement was Obanai. The man had almost butchered him on numerous occasions just for showing up to the Love estate. Even if he wasn’t there for Mitsuri, the Serpent Hashira didn’t seem to care. Maybe it was funny the first few times – it actually wasn’t – but you really couldn’t keep your mouth shut anymore. Obanai was wearing you thin with his commentary. Everytime Giyuu was around, it was like the others just couldn’t help themselves by making a comment insulting the man. Maybe it was because you didn’t want to disrespect a Hashira, especially if four of them were in the room with you, but Giyuu was here to see you, and it was almost like insulting Giyuu was an insult to you for wanting to spend time with him.

Mitsuri was okay with Giyuu coming to visit you, she actually encouraged it. So watching Mitsuri stand behind you while you gave Iguro a piece of your mind was something Giyuu didn’t know he needed to see until then. And maybe he did allow himself to feel a little selfish and smile mentally. He still remembers how Iguro had this look of disdain on his face, simultaneously looking like a scolded child and embarrassed because this was happening in front of Mitsuri.

Giyuu wondered if you caught the look that Obanai and Kaburamaru were giving you – if looks could kill and all that – but that was stupid. You most certainly did and just didn’t care enough. And Giyuu also wonders just what kind of sorcery you have, because he did hear you mention Sanemi by name at some point and now he's not bothering him as much, especially when you are around.

It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, not like he had ever done anything about it in the past. He never really had the heart to correct anyone in their assumptions of him, he never really thought he had to. Though, that mainly was because he thought he deserved such mistreatment. Regardless, it didn’t matter how he felt about it and himself. If you enjoyed his company that much to defend him, he was going to provide as much of it as you wanted. But there was something about it that made his heart swell a little bit bigger and flooded him with enough warmth that you could have mistaken it as him having a fever.

Now here the two of you were, sitting outside the Water Estate. You both had taken your places by the koi pond Giyuu has. It's so calm and cool. The soft moving of water could be heard every time the wind blew just enough, as well as the sharp sound of water splashing because some fish got too close to the surface.

Giyuu isn’t losing himself as he stares at the pond, watching the fish move around. He finds himself mesmerized though, as you talk. It’s nice, as usual. He likes how you talk and the way you talk. He could listen to you for hours and never get tired of hearing you. And he knows that if he glances at you now, even briefly, he wouldn’t be able to look away. You just look so… wonderful. It makes him dizzy. But he has such a weak will to do so, and now he's staring at you. Eyes soft and relaxed. He has never felt so content.

Giyuu doesn’t know if he realizes what kind of situation he is in. Or maybe he does. Maybe he’s finally realizing just how much of an effect you have on him. He likes you. He likes you beyond anything in the world. He loves you and everything about you.

You don't notice him staring. You’re too busy weaving the crochet hook in and out of your craft. You make it look so effortless. So enjoyable. And you seem so happy crocheting away as you speak. The way you talk and do it at the same time, you're so smart. You have to be. And Giyuu can’t help but hope you don’t look up. You’re as mesmerized with your work as he is with you. He would die though, if you caught him. The thought makes him sweat almost, being so close to you like this. His hands are clammy, and he's never been this nervous.

Yeah, he definitely has it bad for you. And for the first time in a while, even despite his nerves, he found the corners of his lips curling upwards, in a soft and timid smile. He averts his eyes, almost to gather his bearings, but that isn't enough. The subtle flush creeping onto his cheeks betrayed him. But he couldn’t be more delighted.

thank you for reading !! ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა

[lurochar]

Mommy

Not me being persistently sick for like two and a half weeks now 🤧 (yes, my immune system is crap).

But anyway, please enjoy my delirious writings~

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It was a rare, once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence; it was something that one usually never lived to witness. 

Alastor rendered speechless, that is.

Other than a loud record scratch that certainly was not pleasant on the ears by any means, the deer demon did not respond audibly in any other way.

It seemed all he could do was tilt his head to a rather uncomfortable-looking angle and stare at you with furrowed brows and a strange strained smile you had never seen before stretch across his darkening face.

It looked as though he wanted to say something, but the tense silence continued without a word coming forth from his lips.

It would seem it was up to you the–

“Boss, Boss!” The only remaining Egg Boi, Frank, waves enthusiastically. “Have you come to get a snuggle from Mommy too?!”

                                    .

                                    . 

                                    .

What.

What did that wretched cretin just call his Darling?

“Woah!” You quickly reacted before Alastor simply blew up the poor creature into a million little egg shell pieces and picked up Frank to hold against your chest, much to Alastor’s obvious ire. “Just… just calm down, please? He doesn't know what he's saying!”

Alastor’s expression twitches and not much else.

“Frank is all that's left of Sir Pentious after he…” You sighed, thinking back to the battle with Adam and the Exorcists. “So for his memory, shouldn't we take good care of Frank for him?”

Alastor watches the scene before him with a growing smile that's becoming more and more unhinged while eerie glowing green sigils slowly start to pop in the air surrounding him and his antlersstarttogrowandhispupilsarestartingtochangeshap–

He's starting to lose control the second ‘Frank’ bounces in excitement in your arms (against your soft breasts. ₮ⱧØ₴Ɇ ₩ɆⱤɆ Ø₦ⱠɎ ₣ØⱤ Ⱨł₥ ₮Ø ₮ØɄ₵Ⱨ) as you hug him softly.

“You're so warm, Mommy! You could hatch so many eggs!” Frank gasps, not feeling the murderous intent just feet away from him. “Could you hatch me some more brothers and sisters?! I don't know where mine went off to!”

You only give a nervous chuckle as an answer, glancing back to Alastor. “It's just for a few days.” You sigh. “At least until Charlie and Vaggie figure out what to do with him.”

Alastor slowly regains control, eyeing Frank with clear distaste as it cuddled up happily in your chest. He hadn't had too much of a problem with the egg creatures up until now – hell, he had even benefitted from them before.

But now…

“Where are you going?” You blinked, a bit taken back as Alastor simply walked past you, now humming joyfully. You never thought he would give in so easily…

“To the kitchen, I'm famished. Won't you join me, Darling?” Alastor’s eyes flash with a dark mischievousness. “I'm suddenly in the mood for scrambled eggs.”

Yeah, seems he wasn't over it.

“Let us just hope there won't be any… accidents in the kitchen today, won't we, Darling?

At all.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 17

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

Part 17

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

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

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

“Lyla?” you say.

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

“Morning… Is Miguel…” you trail off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Those shoulders.

They’ve carried too much for far too long.

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

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

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

Including you.

But surely, that’s not it. Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time heals all.

Usually.

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

And today is still not that day.

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

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

Are you watching the sunset, too?

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

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

It reminds you of Miguel’s eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m at the gym.” - M

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wait, and wait. And wait.

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

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

“Can you please turn off all the lights?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miguel. After everything that happened with Gabriella.”

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

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

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

“Is Miguel still at the gym?”

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

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

”Lyla?”

“Yes?”

“… I know I shouldn’t ask…”

“You want to know what’s happening.”

“Yes.”

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

Her.

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

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

Suddenly everything clicks into place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Darkness.”

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tired, you start the day knowing what today is.

Gabby’s birthday.

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

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

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

I’m at HQ. - Miguel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re ignoring Jess’s message.

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

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

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

Today? Things are different.

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

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

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

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

“Ben,” you say, recognizing him instantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miguel?” you try again.

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

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

“Miguel,” you say once more, gently.

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

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t apologize.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, of course,” you whisper.

“I don’t want to be here right now.”

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

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

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

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

-♡-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s guilty until proven innocent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

“You… do?”

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

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

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

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

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

You gesture to the kitchen. “C’mon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was her favorite song of hers?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, the two of you sing to Gabby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod gently. “If you wish me to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that necessary?”

“It was a jerk move.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” you say, not sure if you’re up for that.

“I don’t think that’s…” Miguel trails off, not liking it himself, but at least Lyla isn’t trying to call you dulzura either. For some reason the idea of someone else calling you that, even if it’s his own AI assistant, rubs him the wrong way, but he doesn’t say that. “I think… Maybe consider something else.“

“Fine. I see neither of you are happy with it. You outdid yourself, Y/N. There. Better?” Lyla says rolling her eyes. “The longer you two spend time together, the more you team up against me. It’s so unfair.”

Miguel and you chuckle.

“And now they’re laughing at me. Humans,” Lyla mumbles under her breath. “Are you cutting the cake or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re cutting the cake,” Miguel says. “Thank you for taking the photo, L.”

“L?” Lyla repeats, offended.

“It’s for Lyla,” you say with a smile, making Miguel smirk softly since you’re following along with his teasing.

“You’re not calling me ‘L’ - I reject that,” Lyla replies, crossing her arms over chest.

“We’ll think of another nickname then,” Miguel replies, positioning the knife to cut the cake at last.

“Finally!” Lyla says. “Queremos pastel [we want cake]!”

“Queremos pastel [we want cake],” Miguel repeats, lowering the knife, imagining for a second that Gabby is the one cutting it, not him. He imagines himself taking photos from the back to capture the moment. “Queremos pastel, pastel, pastel [we want cake, cake, cake].”

You smile, listening to Miguel say ‘we want cake’ as he finally slices it. Lyla and you clap softly, which warms Miguel’s heart.

“Happy Birthday, Gabby!” Lyla says, smiling fondly at the cake. “I wish I could eat cake,” she adds frowning.

“You have no idea what you’re missing out on,” Miguel says with a smile as he cuts two slices, one for each of you.

“You don’t have to rub it in, Miguel,” she replies with a huff as she watches Miguel fix you a plate first, carefully placing it in front of you before fixing his own.

You wait until Miguel has his plate ready and then, you both try the cake at the same time.

You both sigh in content as the flavors melt in your mouth, pleased with it. Of course, there was no doubt in your minds that it was going to be good, especially not in Miguel’s mind. He loves your baking and cooking, but especially your baking since it satisfies his sweet tooth. So he had no doubt your baking was going to be excellent as always.

You both go for a second slice, which you take to the living room for more comfort after storing the remainder of the cake away. Miguel brings Gabby’s guitar along, placing it next to him on the floor. You’ve returned to the same spots from earlier, sitting side by side on the ground.

Lyla disappeared at some point while Miguel served the second slices, unusually quiet as she glanced between you before flickering away, so it’s just the two of you and light music for now as you eat your extra slices of cake.

Finishing with his, Miguel clears his throat and carefully dabs his mouth clean with a napkin. He rests his back on the couch, smiling gently as he watches you bring the fork to your mouth to eat.

“As always, your baking was incredible,” he compliments you. “Thank you for baking it. I believe Gabby would’ve loved it.”

“I’m happy and flattered to hear that,” you reply with a smile.

“She would be - probably giving you a lot of hugs right now.”

That makes you smile brighter, a warm feeling in your chest grows at the simple idea of Gabby loving her birthday cake so much that she’d give you a hug, or multiple.

“I would’ve accepted every single one of them,” you answer, still smiling.

“And returned them,” Miguel adds, knowing you so well. “You would’ve returned every single hug Gabby gave you and then add one or two more.”

“You know me too well,” you say chuckling before you take a sip from your glass. “I would’ve.”

Miguel picks up the guitar, a small smile on his face still. He brushes his fingers against the strings, thinking.

“The last few days were hard, knowing that her birthday was approaching. It’s hard, still,” he says, looking at it. “I didn’t expect for it to hurt less so soon, of course, but it always hurts to think she didn’t turn a year older, even if that would’ve been bittersweet.”

“In a way, I think I know what that would’ve felt like,” Miguel continues, his lips almost pouting. “I watched Gabriel grow older before my own eyes and it always made me feel bittersweet, to see my little brother grow older. I imagine I would’ve felt something similar with Gabby… but it’s not only that that hurts. It hurts that I can’t visit her somewhere. There’s nowhere for me to go. To visit her. I can go and visit my mom and Gabriel, but Gabriella… She’s gone. Really gone. There’s no resting place for her - because there’s no… her,” Miguel whispers, looking at the guitar in his hands.

To think he was the last one to hold her, his arms were the last thing she felt. “I was the last one to hold her. The last thing she felt… were my arms around her. That’s brought me some… comfort over time. She didn’t suffer in her last moments, not physically. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she had.” Miguel’s eyes shut tight, his head lowering. He would’ve hated himself so much more than he does already for not stopping what happened.

After several seconds of silence, he opens his eyes. “But as I was saying… there’s nowhere to see her. Nowhere to offer her flowers. I would visit her every day if there was. I would change her flowers every few days. I would’ve visited today and taken some things for her but there’s nowhere to go.”

You listen intently to Miguel, nodding as he talks. The very same thought has come to your mind before, about how Gabby doesn’t have a resting place, somewhere for Miguel to visit her. You remember thinking about it a while back, imagining how much harder it would be for someone like Miguel to heal from his loss when there’s no resting place for Gabby because her universe collapsed.

“It’s something I think about often, but I can’t do anything about it,” Miguel says playing a few strings.

You hum softly, staying quiet for a few moments and simply watching Miguel as his fingers move over the strings, not playing. “I can imagine, Miguel,” you reply gently after some seconds.

You look over to the wall, your gaze finding the photographs you helped Miguel hang not too long ago. It’s become a special spot for him in the penthouse, a detail that’s given the place a much warmer vibe along with the other changes Miguel has made.

Your eyes move to the console table attached to the same wall, decorated with a simply abstract figure. It’s a spot neither of you have thought about spicing up with Miguel trying to redecorate.

“I know you said there’s nowhere to go… But what if…” you trail off, the idea still forming in your head.

“What if…?” Miguel repeats, wondering what you’re thinking about. He’s both curious and excited to hear whatever is on your mind, something that might give him some comfort regarding the situation.

“What if you give her a place here?” you continue, nodding to the console table. “Her special place for you to visit her per say, close to you, here in your home.”

His eyes light up at the idea.

“Never mind, that’s probably… not a good idea,” you say, doubting yourself, but when you turn to look at Miguel, he’s shaking his head.

“I like it. I like it a lot. In fact… I love it,” he says softly with a little smile. “I spend a lot of time here at the living room, so it’d be nice to set it here. And,” he pauses, standing up and looking around. “This place receives a lot of natural light. She loved the sunshine. Sometimes I think she would’ve loved the living room especially for that reason, the sunshine coming through the windows while she colored on the coffee table,” Miguel continues, a hint of excitement in his voice, as his mind works on how he wants it to look - to honor his little girl, to have a place to visit her in a way as you said. He walks over to you and hands you the guitar. “Hold this, please, while I go get something. I’ll be right back.”

He exits the living room before you can say anything, heading towards the office on the first floor, so you hold the guitar with care knowing how special it is.

This is the first time you’ve held it, so you inspect it a little closer to look at the stickers Gabby put on it. There’s three flowers on it, a DNA strand, and a science symbol which doesn’t surprise you. Miguel has always stated how much Gabby loved science, how bright she was. You smile tenderly at it, allowing yourself to realize it was once held by her, a thought that makes you tear up a little. You think about how this guitar was once held by that little girl with the toothy smile who loved pink conchas, chocolate chip pancakes, arroz con leche [Mexican rice pudding], and Choco Milk. The little girl whose birthday is today, who loved science and candy so much her dad couldn’t say no to her, and who loved bees and the color lilac. The one that played guitar and fútbol [I don’t want to call it soccer], who sometimes fell asleep on the way home after a victorious game.

You turn the guitar over, reading the name on the back.

“Gabriella O’Hara,” you whisper, your fingertips barely touching it. “Gabby.” You sniffle quietly and wipe tears from your eyes, not wanting Miguel to see you crying but then, a tissue comes into your vision.

Startled, you look up and find Miguel, his own eyes teary due to seeing and hearing you cry. Despite his own sadness - his grief - he still finds it in himself to offer you a reassuring, little smile before he carefully dries your tears with the tissue.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” Miguel whispers back. “Seeing how much you care about Gabby, despite not having the opportunity to meet her, is so touching to me. You have no idea.” He clears his throat and steps back once he’s done. “It means so much to me that you care about her.”

You sniffle again, trying to recover. “I do. If I could do something to bring her back…”

Miguel’s face softens even more.

“I’d give my life so she was here with you,” you say, looking down at the guitar. “So you’d be happy.”

“I would still be hurting,” Miguel says quietly, which makes you look up, frowning.

“Why?” you ask softly, so honestly it leaves Miguel in disbelief for a few seconds.

“Why? You ask why?” he says, his brows raising. “I’d be missing and grieving you, dulzura. That’s why.” He sits near you with a sigh. “So… don’t ever sacrifice yourself,” Miguel says quietly, firmly. “Please.” Just the idea of something happening to you… It leaves more than a bitter taste in Miguel’s mouth. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you were hurt, if something else happened. He doesn’t want to think about it.

You nod slowly, his words sinking in. Without saying it directly, Miguel has stated that he cares about you. It brings a little smile to your face as you hand him the guitar, thinking he’d appreciate holding it again. Your fingers brush his as the guitar is exchanged but neither of you say anything about it.

“But I’m touched you care so much about Gabby - about me - that you’d try to bring her back if there was a way, without you giving your life.” Miguel adds. “To make me not happy, but happi-er because despite everything… I am happy these days, you know.” He turns to look at you, nudging his chin at you.

You smile, guessing he’s talking about you, so you nudge your chin back at him because you’re happier these days thanks to him, too.

He flashes you a small grin, for a second having the urge to gently take your chin between his thumb and finger, an urge that disperses quickly when you change the topic for his and your sake.

“You went to get something. What was it?” you ask.

“Right,” Miguel says, remembering. He reaches from his other side and retrieves a picture frame and a candle. “I want to add another photo of Gabby, a larger one to place on the console table. The candle… I want to light one for her. In Mexico, people sometimes have small altars for their loved ones at home throughout the year, you reminded me of that when you mentioned the console table. Tomorrow, I’ll go and buy her flowers from the flower market. I already have a vase that I think will be perfect. It used to be in my mom’s apartment when she lived in the building.”

“That sounds lovely,” you reply with a smile. “It’s going to look so beautiful. What picture are you thinking of using for the altar?”

Miguel sighs. “Well… All the pictures I have are already on the wall.”

You both turn your gazes to the photographs, your eyes finding Gabby’s few remaining photos.

“So, it’ll have to be one of them,” Miguel continues, to this day still upset that there’s not more photos of Gabby.

You nod, wishing there were more photos and videos of Gabby at least.

Seeing a sudden pop of white to your side, you turn and find Lyla. She gives you a look, as if asking you to wish her good luck before she floats farther away so Miguel can see her, too. The sight of Lyla and her expression, at this moment, has your heart racing suddenly.

“Hey… Miguel?” Lyla starts too quietly, too serious.

“Lyla,” Miguel replies his face changing to confusion, then to one of seriousness as his ears identify the different tone in her voice.

“I have something to tell you… It’s a good thing,” she continues looking at him and then at you.

“What is it?” Miguel asks.

“So… A year ago when you were injured in another universe, you know with the Goblin, the system shut down. It was rebooted by Margo and all was great, but some files were temporarily lost due to the sudden shut down. Others became corrupted. I started working on retrieving those files, slowly but surely. There was no rush as those files weren’t top priority, you know, essential to us for our day to day work at HQ. To be honest, I couldn’t even tell you what these files were, since they had no official name when I found them,” Lyla explains.

“Files… What are you getting at?” Miguel asks.

“I’ve retrieved them, uncovered what they were. Including the corrupted files. On my little free time, I’ve been restoring the files and well… It turns out that I had forgotten about some of these files due to previous system reboots. Since they were somehow omitted from my system due to previous shut downs, I didn’t even know they existed anymore, especially being lost and corrupted files within the system.”

“What are they? Why is it important to tell us this now?” Miguel asks, holding on to the guitar. His heart begins to race a little, even though he tells himself to not be stupid - to not have hope there’s more.

“Both the lost and corrupted files have turned out to be…” Lyla trails off, looking between Miguel and you. “Photos and videos of Gabby and you. New ones, not the ones you have already.”

Miguel inhales sharply, his heart racing as Lyla’s words sink in. “It’s not possible,” he says without thinking.

“It is, Miguel,” she replies offering a genuine look. “And I swear I didn’t hide them this time. They were lost and even I had no idea they were just sitting there in the system. I came across the folder sometime over the summer after you were injured and decided to work on them. It wasn’t until October or so that one of the files turned out to be a photo of her. I wanted to tell you right away, but then, I figured that since I didn’t even know about this one photo being lost, maybe a few more files would turn out to be photos of her, too. I was hoping to have it done by Father’s Day, but well, things happen at HQ…” Lyla says apologetically. “I finished today. My work proved to be successful because almost every file was of Gabby. I finished recovering the last one today and I’m happy to tell you that there’s over twenty photos on top of some videos. Do you wish to see them?”

“Yes,” Miguel breathes out. “Yes. Please show them to me.” He turns to look at you, his eyes filled with so many emotions - surprise, disbelief, happiness, and excitement.

“I’ll go - I’m going to wait upstairs,” you say, already making the move to stand up so Miguel will have privacy to look at the photos.

“You don’t have to,” Miguel says, suddenly placing a hand on your shoulder for a few seconds, making you go still at the unexpected touch. “Stay, please.”

You stare at each other as Miguel slowly retrieves his hand. He didn’t plan nor anticipated it. It was a genuine reaction, to keep you here, with him.

“Will you?” he asks.

Nodding, you settle back down. “Yes. If you want to, I will.”

“Thank you,” he replies with a small nod. He turns to Lyla, readjusting his position. “Lyla…”

“Yes, boss?” she replies, knowing.

“Go ahead,” Miguel states, his heart racing. His fingers fiddle with the guitar’s strings, feeling nervous. As Lyla prepares, the idea sinks further. There’s more photos and videos of Gabby. All this time, there’s been more memories sitting in the system, lost but finally recovered.

“Here are the photos,” Lyla says gently as she makes a holographic screen accessible. She turns to you, giving you a small smile and a subtle thumbs up. You suppose she was thinking back to the time when she hid photos of Gabby and his wife, and how Miguel reacted then by shutting her down, but his reaction today is far different. The Miguel from then, you suspect, had done little healing. You turn to the screen after acknowledging her with a nod and a small smile, giving your full attention to Gabby.

Three seconds later, there she is. Beside you, Miguel sighs the way a parent does when looking at old photographs of their children, with nostalgia.

“Gabby,” he whispers, his gaze soft as he takes in the photo of her sitting on a living room floor, coloring books and pencils scattered over a coffee table. Her face is one of concentration as she colors, dressed in jeans and a pink shirt with her hair down.

Photo after photo, Miguel and you observe each one, drinking in the details the way you drink café de olla [coffee]. Slowly, with delicacy and love. While Miguel is thrown right back into his memories, you get more glimpses of his life with her, of that short time. You finally see a little bit more of that universe, leaving an incredible pain in you knowing these photographs and Gabby’s guitar, is basically the only evidence left that that universe once existed to begin with.

Despite that feeling, you smile as the photos progress, seeing Miguel with such a happy smile with his daughter. Your heart beats with tenderness seeing how happy they looked, sharing father and daughter moments, such as them playing dolls on her bedroom floor, a flower sticker on Miguel’s hair.

“I didn’t notice it until I was going to shower,” Miguel says with an amused smile. “She noticed it for sure but she didn’t tell me.”

You laugh softly. “She was probably wondering how long it’ll take before you realized.”

“Most likely,” Miguel agrees, shaking his head in amusement before you both turn back to look at the next photo.

Everything is fine and lighthearted inside you as more photos are displayed but your throat suddenly feels impossibly restricted when the photo changes to one of a sleeping Miguel and Gabby on her bed. An open book, abandoned, can be seen on the side. It’s clearly night time, a single lit lamp in what used to be the little girl’s bedroom while Gabby and Miguel sleep, the latter having fallen asleep at some point while reading to his daughter. Your vision becomes blurry when you spot their same sleepy faces, their mouths open just slightly, identically like father and daughter. Silently, the tears roll down your face without warning.

You don’t dare turn to look at Miguel, or even make a subtle move to wipe your tears away because you don’t wish for him to see you crying. You don’t want your tears to make him tear up, too. Inhaling gently, you attempt to swallow the painful knot in your throat and rein in your emotions, but your eyes remain fixed on the photo, on sleeping Miguel and Gabby - no worries in their minds as they peacefully sleep.

For Gabby, she’s in the comfort of her father’s arms - safe and sound, protected. For Miguel, you imagine in those moments that the multiverse didn’t exist. It was a far away concept in those moments, so far he slipped into his sleep with ease and without a fight - a high contrast to what awaited him in the future. Sleepless and long nights in his dark and empty lab due to nightmares, alone with the exception of Lyla at times. The children’s books he read to Gabby replaced with data reports pertaining to the multiverse once more by a cruel and unexpected twist of misfortune, something Miguel has been no stranger to.

Still staring at the photo, you once again wonder how different Miguel’s life would have been had Gabby’s universe not collapsed. You wonder if he’d still live there in that universe, or whether he would’ve told Gabby and his wife about his universe, have them move to Nueva York, here to his penthouse.

You wonder, if perhaps, Miguel and his wife would’ve divorced and it would’ve been Gabby and Miguel alone then.

You wonder if her room would’ve been Gabriel’s, or if Miguel would’ve done changes to the penthouse, like making the upstairs office an extra bedroom. Perhaps, on this coffee table in front of you, Gabby’s coloring books or hair ties, or something that belonged to her, could be found.

“I used to read to her every night,” Miguel says, bringing his knees close to him, resting his arms on them. “I’m so glad there’s a memory of it. That I can see her sleepy face again physically, not just in my head.” He wipes his eye using the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He sniffles quietly before he reaches with his hand, zooming in on her specifically. He traces his daughter’s face as if he were actually tracing it physically, with such tenderness and so much love. “Su carita [her little face],” he whispers. “I’d forget everything about the Spider Society at the sight of that little face. I wasn’t Spider-Man. I was just ‘papá’ or ‘daddy’ - and my biggest worry was a scraped knee during practices [papa].”

He turns to face you slowly, finally realizing you’ve been so quiet, so still. His gaze softens when you turn away as an attempt to keep him from seeing your face, the tears staining your cheeks.

“Dulzura?”

“Yeah?” you reply, clearing your throat, trying to make it seem like you’re fine.

“You don’t have to hide your tears,” Miguel says gently. “Not from me.”

With that, you turn to face him. You offer him a small smile. “I’m sorry… This photo…” you trail off, looking away to dry your damp cheeks. “You just - Your sleeping faces are the same,” you continue, chuckling softly instead of crying, even though your eyes are still tearing up. “Even the way your mouths are open just slightly.” You sniffle. “It’s so… sweet, Miguel.”

You shakily huff, drying your face with the back of your hand. You wish you could blame your emotions on something else, like your period, but it’s not even time for that yet. Your emotions are running uncontrollably purely because of Miguel and his daughter. It’s due to the tenderness of this photo and every single moment they were able to share, but knowing it wasn’t, isn’t, and never will be enough for Miguel or Gabby.

And God, you wish on everything that Gabby was here right now. You wish there was a way that time could go back, that you had the answers to the real cause for the collapse of universes. And then, you’d go back and prevent it from happening, along with every other universe that’s been lost.

“You think so?” Miguel asks, his eyes twinkling with delight hearing you say that Gabby and he share the same sleeping faces.

“Absolutely,” you reply. “It’s clear as day.”

Miguel sighs, dropping his arm. He wraps his arms around his legs and stares at the photo some more. “Thank you for saying that,” he whispers. “That makes me feel… happy. Happier.”

“Always,” you whisper back, able to look at the photo again. “This one… It would be sweet to have in your room.”

Miguel hums. “My nightstand.”

“Close to you,” you reply, nodding.

You fall into a comfortable silence, despite the emotions, and continue to observe the photo for a few more minutes before Miguel asks Lyla to display the rest. Each one is as sweet and tender as the last one, but thankfully you don’t cry anymore, or at least not as much.

“There are a few videos,” Lyla says turning to look at Miguel, talking for the first time since she shared the fact that these files exist. She’s been silently watching the two of you, glad that Miguel has you by his side while he goes through the photos - relieved that he isn’t alone today, and tomorrow, and the date afterwards. He has someone. You. “Do you wish to watch them?”

“Yes, please,” Miguel answers turning to look at Lyla before his eyes turn back to the screen.

As time goes on, Miguel and you watch the videos, all of which are of just him and Gabby. And thankfully, they’re all long videos. You watch Gabriella play fútbol in the backyard with Miguel. There’s the one Christmas they spent together, with Gabby excitedly showing Miguel new toys.

“Christmas,” Miguel says softly. “She was so excited. I did the Santa’s snow boots footprints, she was squealing with happiness when she woke up and saw them,” he shares.

You watch the video, thinking. Miguel was that kind of father, and it makes so much sense.

At last, Lyla turns to face the two of you. “This is the last one,” Lyla says softly as the screen changes before it starts.

Miguel and you both watch as the video clip begins playing, starting with Gabby on display holding her guitar and playing it. Miguel sits on a chair watching with an expression that leaves no room for question how proud he felt in that moment. Like in every video and photo, Miguel’s eyes have a special spark, one you recognize in Peter B. and MJ, Jess and her husband, and Mr. and Mrs. Morales. It’s the spark a loving, caring parent has in their eyes when looking at or talking about their child. Miguel had it around Gabby, and now it’s only visible when he talks about her, or when he looks at her photos.

A warm, gentle, and beautiful smile grazes his face as he watches and listens to Gabby expertly play the guitar at such age, a look of concentration on her sweet face. She plays a melody you don’t recognize but one she seems to know by heart, no mistakes made. She ends her playing gently, the sound pleasant to the ears before she eagerly and expectantly looks at her father, a smile that reminds you of Miguel’s, too, on her face.

“That was amazing, mija [my daughter]!” Miguel says suddenly with such energy you swear you’ve never seen in him before. “You get better and better the more you practice, eh? My little musician!”

You smile, seeing Gabby’s smile widen before she runs to her father, throwing her arms around his neck. The sight of Miguel instantly wrapping his arms around his daughter makes your heart weak. There has never been any doubt in your mind that Miguel loved, still loves, Gabby, but this interaction hits you deeply. You see the way his eyes close in content, his smile unfaltering as he hugs his daughter tightly. He’s so proud of her. He’s so loving, tender, sweet.

There’s also no doubt in your mind. Being a father suits him so much even if he once thought he wasn’t meant to. Quite the contrary, Miguel was meant to be a father.

“Now it’s your turn, daddy! You play and sing!” Gabby says excitedly, pulling back to offer Miguel the guitar.

Miguel shakes his head gently. “I think you should keep playing, mija [my daughter].”

“Please? Pretty please, daddy?” Gabby insists, puppy eyes on full display. “Sing my favorite song, please.”

And just like Miguel has told you before, he was never able to say no to Gabby when it came to healthy, harmless requests like these. He accepts the guitar.

“Just one song, and then you play again. ¿Entiendes, chiquilla [do you understand, little girl]?”

“Okay, okay! Ya se [I know], but please! I like to hear you sing, daddy,” Gabby says taking a seat in front of Miguel on the floor, watching him like he’s the center of her universe.

“Okay, okay. Ay vamos [we’re going, starting]…” Miguel says with a little sigh. “How does it start?”

“Dad!” Gabby whines with a little huff. “You know how it starts!”

“I forgot. What are the first notes, again?” Miguel asks with a sweet, playful smile that stays on his face as Gabby tells him. “Ah, okay. So… Something like this,” he says playing a few notes that earns him eager nods from Gabby. “Okay, I think I got it, mija [my daughter].” He begins to play the guitar again, the same notes Gabby was playing earlier but continuing on.

And for the first time since you’ve known Miguel, you hear him truly sing.

“Luna gardenia de plata que en mi serenata, te vuelves canción. Tú que me viste cantando, me ves hoy llorando, mi desilusión. Calles bañadas de luna que fueron la cuna de mi juventud. Vengo a cantarle a mi amada, la luna plateada de mi Xelajú…” Miguel sings with ease, his brows furrowing slightly, gazing at his daughter who smiles tenderly at her father. “En mis noches de pena, por una morena de dulce mirar,” Miguel continues singing, smiling at Gabby, nodding at her. He earns himself a sweet, happy, and toothy smile along with an applause from Gabby’s hands, and it’s so heartwarming, so sweet Miguel can’t help himself from stopping midway when he sees Gabby rise and head straight for him.

He welcomes her in his arms, laughing softly as he places the guitar down to fully embrace her like it’s the last time he’ll ever be able to. The thought breaks you. He never imagined he’d lose her - not while embracing her like that nor when he read bedtime stories to her.

“Again, daddy! This time all the song, please,” Gabby says hugging Miguel, her father.

“Okay, okay, mija [my daughter], but first we need to have dinner. C’mon, the caldo [broth] should be ready now,” Miguel says carrying her to what you assume is the kitchen. “Le agregue muchas papitas pa’ que comas. Tienes que comer pa’ que estés fuerte y sana. ¿Recuerdas? [I added a lot of potatoes so you’ll eat. You must eat so you’ll be strong and healthy. Remember?]”

“¡Y pollito [and chicken]!” Gabby says making Miguel chuckle.

“Si y mucho pollito. También zanahorias [yes and chicken. Carrots, too].”

“Eugh, no carrots, please.”

The last thing heard is Miguel’s laughter as they both disappear into the kitchen, the screen returning to the all familiar marigold color used for all screens in the Spider Society.

You chuckle softly as you remember something. “So she wasn’t fond of carrots either.”

Turning to look at you, Miguel frowns softly yet he’s amused. He remembers that evening so vividly now, how it felt to carry his daughter to the kitchen so they could check on the food. “Either?”

“Remember when you were injured last year?” you ask, which instantly reminds Miguel.

“Dios [God], that carrot was disgusting,” he says frowning deeply. “I don’t know how we didn’t throw up right there.”

Covering your mouth, you laugh, recalling the face he made that day when he tried it. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re laughing,” Miguel says raising an eyebrow, feigning disappointment and offense. “Can’t believe you made me try it.”

“I didn’t think it was actually bad,” you reply. “In my defense, I thought since it’s this dimension, and all the great resources at HQ, that the infirmary food would be top notch.”

“Mala [Meanie, feminine version in Spanish],” Miguel replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “At least you tried it, too. So we’re even.”

“Never again.” You chuckle again. “If I ever end up there, please spare me from the carrots.”

Miguel’s amusement falters a bit. “I hope you’re never there. Not even for a minor cut, but I promise I’ll spare you from the horrible food,” he says earnestly, leaving no doubt in your mind that you’ll never taste that food. Again. “I swear.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly with a smile.

“Always. I’ll protect your food palate,” he says, amused yet again.

You both smile at each other, staying quiet for a few seconds before you speak again. “That was… Very beautiful, Miguel,” you start quietly. “Your voice. You singing to Gabby her favorite song. You made her happy, so happy.”

He nods, his smile shifting to a much tender one. “I sang it to her every time she wanted me to. It was a pure request, an easy way to make her happy. I always wanted her to be so,” Miguel shares. “And if I could make her happy in such an easy way, I would. It was also bonding for us. I never wanted to make her feel like I didn’t want to spend time with her, like she was being rejected. I wanted her to feel loved,” he adds softly. “For her to know she was deeply loved and cared for. That she didn’t need to hide anything. I wanted her to have what I…” Miguel pauses, swallowing. “What I didn’t have at her age. That unconditional love, protection, and tenderness from a parent. Constant. Not in pauses, making her wonder if she had done something wrong.”

Nodding, you sigh softly. You know about Miguel’s childhood; about the situation with his mother Conchata and his stepfather, on top of the situation with his biological father. You try not to think about it often because each time you do, anger and sadness flares up inside you for him. You hate that Miguel experienced such rejection and negligence in his early life, how it has affected him throughout the years.

You’re glad, at least, that by the end of Conchata’s life, Miguel had somewhat of a stable relationship with her, something you’ve wondered about sometimes at random times. You wonder, if time had allowed, whether Miguel and her could’ve worked on their relationship, if by now they’d have a better one, but of course, it’s fruitless to think of such moments. Conchata has been gone for several years.

Another thing you wonder is if she saw the way Miguel stepped up to the role of father and how wonderful, tender, sweet, and loving he was to Gabby from wherever she is. You wonder if she felt shame, knowing her son tried to be everything she hardly was for Gabby.

“It’s evident you did just that,” you say at last, concentrating on the now. “She was so happy, Miguel. Her laughter, her smiles - all signs of a happy, safe, and loved child.”

Miguel hums, his gaze softening at your words. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I tried my best to be a good father.” He turns his gaze towards the guitar, the lovely and bittersweet song stuck in his head. He picks it up and holds it, remembering how many times he played the song for her. His fingers glide over the stickers, thinking how it’s still her birthday.

There’s a chance her favorite song would’ve changed by now. Maybe she wouldn’t be interested in playing the guitar anymore but rather another instrument. There’s a lot of things that could’ve changed by now, truly. Maybe Gabby would’ve stopped playing fútbol. Maybe she would’ve stopped loving science.

He’ll never know now.

But maybe there’s a chance, that despite the years… “Luna de Xelajú” would still hold a special place in her tender heart. Maybe she’d appreciate her father remembering the times she asked him to play it for her, to sing her the song while gazing at her, letting her know that she was his morena de dulce mirar [his brunette, or of dark complexion, girl with a sweet gaze]. Just maybe, she’d let her old man play and sing it for her on her birthday even if she no longer begged him to sing it by wrapping her short arms around his neck, giggling and calling him daddy.

Just maybe.

Miguel clears his throat and positions his fingers. How does it start?

“You know how it starts!”

He hears Gabby’s voice in his head, even the little huff. Right. Like this. His fingers move, playing the notes for the first time since he lost his daughter. For a moment, he thinks he messed up, but no, his memory doesn’t betray him, and so his fingers move, as if they had a mind of their own.

You watch as he begins to play, familiar to your ears now thanks to the video. Your eyes remain on him, not missing even a second of this. For a moment, you wonder if you’re imagining it, but no, Miguel really is playing the guitar and playing Gabby’s song, at least the beginning of it.

You suddenly realize what he’s trying to do, just as Lyla does, too because a second later, Lyla displays a photo of Gabby, one of the new ones, for Miguel.

Miguel is going to play and sing the song for her, on her birthday.

Holding your breath, you watch Miguel lift his gaze to the screen, still playing the guitar before he begins.

“Luna gardenia de plata, que en mi serenata te vuelves canción. Tú que me viste cantando, me ves hoy llorando mi desilusión,” Miguel sings softly, staring at his daughter’s photo, his expression gentle yet with a trace of mourning and grief. “Luna de Xelajú, que supiste alumbrar, en mis noches de pena por una morena de dulce mirar,” he continues, his gaze softening and his mouth pouting.

You remain still, almost as still as a statue itself. You have heard Miguel sing before when he does so under his breath, sometimes unaware of it, but nothing compare to this. If his voice sounds beautiful in the video, it sounds angelic live. His voice travels straight to your heart.

Still playing, Miguel’s eyes fill with some tears. After so long, he’s playing and singing her song. For so long, he’s tried to not think of it, finding it to be too much for him, too soon for his grieving heart, but his very heart seems to have found today appropriate for it.

Maybe it’s another sign of him healing, Miguel doesn’t know, but he has no regrets playing it now. It feels right, so he continues, hoping that wherever Gabby is, she’s listening to him sing it at last, just for her.

“En mi vida no habrá, más cariño que tú, mi amor. Porque no eres ingrata, mi Luna de plata, luna de Xelajú. Luna que me alumbró, en mis noches de amor… [in my life there won’t be more love than you, my love. Because you’re not ungrateful, my moon of silver, moon of Xelajú. Moon that lightened me up, in my nights of love]” Miguel sings, his fingers slowing down as he pauses for a few seconds. “Hoy consuelas la pena… Por una morena… que me… Abandonó [today you console the sorrow… for a brunette, or girl of dark complexion… that… abandoned me],” he sings the end in a whisper, a single tear rolling down his face as his fingers play the last notes, finishing the song.

He lowers the guitar to his lap slowly, still gazing at Gabby’s photo. He doesn’t bother to wipe away the tear that slowly trails down his face. Instead, he lets it run its course until it sinks into his skin. Miguel inhales heavily and sighs. Something in him, so deep, settling in. It’s a certain kind of peace.

At last, several seconds later, you sigh as well. You didn’t realize you held your breath throughout the entirety of the song, but you did. You didn’t want to miss a single moment of Miguel singing to Gabby; from hearing his gentle, soothing voice.

“That was beautiful,” you whisper quietly, looking at Gabby’s photo.

Miguel smiles slowly. “Thank you,” he whispers back. “I haven’t played, sang, nor heard it since then. The last time was before I lost her. Even the simple thought of it, the melody in my head - was too much for me,” Miguel admits, gathering his thoughts. “If she was alive, I know she’d be changing. The things she once liked, maybe she wouldn’t be much into anymore. Maybe this song wouldn’t be her favorite anymore. There’s a chance… I know, but even then, before I decided to play it, I thought maybe, just maybe, from wherever she’s at, keeping me safe, she might enjoy me playing her once favorite song from down here on Earth… I hope she heard it.”

You smile softly, still staring at the photo and think about Miguel’s words. Maybe Gabby’s music taste would’ve changed by now. Perhaps “Luna de Xelajú” would no longer be her favorite song, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but a part of you believes that Gabby would’ve loved the beautiful gesture from her dad regardless. And for some reason, you also can’t help but think that maybe she did hear it tonight.

The two flickering birthday candles from earlier come back to mind. That was rather strange. You wonder silently. Maybe the two most important people in Miguel’s life, visited him tonight in their own way.

“I have a feeling she did,” you reply softly.

Miguel turns to face you, shifting his body slightly. “You may think I’m a little bit crazy,” he starts, making you tilt your head towards him with a raised eyebrow, letting him know you don’t. He smiles a bit. “The flickering candles.”

You nod. “I was just thinking about that. Two candles,” you reply.

“Two candles,” Miguel repeats. “Gabby. Gabriel.” He smiles a bit at that. “You don’t think I’m… overthinking it? Maybe with my messed up sleep schedule, I’m just… Not making sense.”

“You’re allowed to believe that,” you state gently. “I’m never going to judge you. I had my fair share of moments in which I felt like Peter and my parents were - leaving me little signs. I also thought about them, you know.” You shift slightly to face him better. “About Gabby and Gabriel.”

Miguel smiles, his head dipping to face the floor. It’s reassuring. He straightens up to look at you again.

“I know I already said it earlier, but, I want to say I’m sorry again. For the way I behaved these last few days.”

You prepare yourself to reply but Miguel lifts his finger, stopping you.

“I don’t want to… Push you away nor make you feel like I’m trying to when I’m not. I have,” Miguel pauses, thinking about that mutual agreement between you some weeks ago.

“We do. We have each other,” Miguel said, before adding, “Always.”

“Always,” you replied.

He also thinks about how you’ve only been a part of his life for a few years. Two, to be exact. It’s a realization that for some reason feels so wrong to him. He wishes you could’ve been in his life sooner, but there’s no time machine to do that, or Miguel would’ve already used it to bring back Gabby and Gabriel. There’s no changing the past, unfortunately, but he has control over some aspects of the future, and he’s already made up his mind. You may have entered his life only two years ago, but he’ll try his absolute best to make sure you stick for the rest of his - until his last breath.

“I don’t want to ever…” he tries and clears his throat. “I don’t want to - I’d like for you - stick around.” He sighs and runs a quick hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to push you - away. Ever.”

You smile at that. “To be honest, it’s going to take a lot for you to push me away. I’m afraid… You’re stuck with me,” you say.

He laughs softly, the sound making your heart swell. “Like that’s a bad thing,” Miguel answers.

“Well… Just saying, so you don’t complain later on.”

“I could never,” Miguel replies, smiling softly.

“Lyla, I hope you recorded that,” you reply, earning yourself a chuckle from Miguel, one that makes you chuckle, too before you both settle into a comfortable silence.

The holographic screen is still available, the same photo of Gabby displayed with one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen.

It’s several minutes later when Miguel breaks the silence. “Tomorrow I’m printing all the photos.” And then remembering, he adds. “Thank you, Lyla. For recovering everything. I… I had no idea there were more photos and videos. Thank you.”

“You got it, Miguel,” Lyla says, looking between him and you, happy that she was able to restore everything. “I’m heading off now. I have some things to work on. Good night.”

“Night,” Miguel replies.

“Good night,” you answer before she disappears.

“Are you tired?” Miguel asks gently.

“Not a lot,” you reply, even though last night you only slept for a few hours. You know Miguel slept even less. “You?”

He shakes his head slightly. “No. Not yet.” He picks up the guitar and plays a few strings, ones you don't recognize.

You remain by his side, letting time go by in each other’s company. Despite the emotions, the mood is lighthearted. Miguel is no longer as quiet and he even offers a few more smiles as the hours go by, smiles that actually reach his eyes.

As time slips by, you notice Miguel grow sleepier and sleepier, which is not surprising. At some point you find him nodding off, so you suggest that he goes to bed but he declines, stating he’s not sleepy yet.

Except, he is and he ends up falling asleep sitting next to you. In a matter of minutes, you grab a pillow from upstairs and your blanket before you reach him. You talk to him softly, waking him enough to talk to him.

“Lay down,” you say, watching the way he looks at you sleepily.

“Mm - no,” he replies, sleepily.

“You’ve fallen asleep. Lay down,” you try again. “Please?”

He sighs, yawning. “I wasn’t sleepy.”

You hold back from chuckling. “I totally believe you. Now, lay down. Please.”

He sighs again, all sleepy and stubborn, but finally lays down.

“Sleep,” you whisper firmly. “Rest, Migs.”

“Are you going upstairs?” he whispers sleepily, his eyes fluttering as he gazes at you, with a hint of a pout.

You smile tenderly at him, the sight of his sleepy features and voice warming your heart.

“I'm staying here,” you reply as you cover him with your blanket, wondering if the reason why he’s asking is because he'll like for you to stay.

“Mm,” he hums sleepily, satisfied with your answer. “Thank you.” He sighs softly, relaxing and settling.

“Lift your head, Miguel.”

“Mhm.” Miguel does so slightly, more asleep than awake now.

You fix the pillow behind his head, your fingers accidentally brushing the small curls on the nape of his neck including the sensitive skin there, eliciting a gentle hum from Miguel, one of contentment, of satisfaction.

You freeze for a second, the sound surprising you. After a second or two, you smile and finish fixing it, pulling the blanket higher up.

“Sleep, Migs,” you whisper tenderly.

“Mhm, dulzura,” Miguel mumbles, dozing off at last.

You take a seat next to him. The holographic screen is still available, displaying the same photo from earlier.

You get comfortable and stare at the photo, thinking about all the new ones, about the videos. You got more glimpses of Miguel's life with his daughter. More glimpses of him being a father.

Turning your attention back to Miguel and taking in all his features, you think once more.

He was meant to be a dad.

You wonder if there's a chance of him opening his heart to someone one day. Of falling in love and having a child. Or, maybe two, or three. Maybe even four.

With thoughts of the possibility of Miguel building a family with someone, you fall asleep yourself.

It's many hours later when you wake up naturally, without the need of an alarm. To your relief, you find Miguel still sleeping peacefully by your side.

Standing up, you notice his sleeping face, once again remembering how similar it is to Gabby's. You hum to yourself, heart swelling with tenderness, before deciding to make coffee.

You go through yesterday's events silently as you prepare the pot and set up the mugs, opting for some simple ones today instead of grabbing more colorful ones, like the mug you gifted Miguel for Father’s Day due to the circumstances of Gabby’s birthday. You wait patiently, remaining quiet to avoid waking up Miguel and think to yourself. You can't believe that all this time there were more photos and videos of Gabby, lost but thankfully recovered and restored by Lyla.

“Good morning,” Miguel says entering the kitchen, his voice still laced with sleep.

“Good morning,” you reply, offering Miguel a smile. “Coffee is almost ready.”

He nods before running a hand through his hair, it being a little disheveled from his sleep. His movement slows down as he vaguely remembers your fingers brushing his hair and neck, a memory that makes his cheeks feel warmer. “I could use some, muchas gracias [thank you].”

“Always,” you reply, not noticing the gentle redness on his cheeks.

He leans on the counter, still waking up and trying to gather his thoughts. He looks over at the coffee and the mugs, remembering. He moves to where the mugs are found and finds the one. It’s the one he’s been using since you gifted it to him; his mug from Father’s Day with the bees. He retrieves it and moves towards you, placing it on the counter near the two you already have out.

“My favorite,” Miguel says looking at it, still so touched by your gifts, bringing a smile to your face.

So, you serve him coffee in that mug and watch him drink it, raising the mug you made with your own hands to his lips. It’s how you also notice the bracelet you gifted him with Gabby’s name on his wrist, another sight that makes you happy. It seems Miguel really liked the gifts.

“Do you want to come with me?” Miguel asks, lowering the mug. “I’m going to the flower market.”

“If it’s alright,” you say, remembering Miguel’s plans to buy flowers for Gabby to place on the altar. “I’d like to.”

Miguel nods. “I’d like for you to come.”

After drinking your mugs of coffee in peace, you both get ready and dress in civilians clothes. For the second time, you borrow the simple holographic suit Miguel allowed you to borrow months ago when your apartment building caught on fire and your suit was dirty and smelling of smoke.

You both slip out of the penthouse and swing through the city before most of the people of Nueva York are awake, before the city is truly buzzing with life. On an alleyway, you both deactivate the suits and step out onto the street wearing your normal clothes to search through the flower market.

You walk around side by side, admiring the different types of flowers available, trying to find the perfect ones for Gabby. You eventually find bouquets that seem to attract both of you; a lovely combination of white and lilac flowers. Together, you choose the best bouquet out of the bunch before continuing to walk around. Despite your mission being accomplished, it seems Miguel is in no rush to leave.

As you both continue to walk around, his gaze turns to you, noticing the way you eye certain flowers with glee and interest. You even stop at certain displays to take a closer look, so Miguel stops to look at them with you, sticking by your side while holding the bouquet he’s already bought.

His brows shoot up when he sees the owner, an older lady, of the display talk to you, inviting you to see further in the back when you stop on theirs.

You shoot him an apologetic smile as the woman enthusiastically talks to you about other options, so he smiles back with a look that lets you know that it’s okay.

“Mujeres. ¿Verdad? [Women. Right?]”

Miguel turns, a little startled by the sudden voice. He finds a man, a much older one.

“¿Disculpe? [Sorry?]” Miguel replies, towering over the man.

“Mujeres divinas. ¿Que haríamos sin ellas? Hermosas. Y mira como les encantan las flores [Divine women. What would we do without them? Beautiful. And look how much they love flowers],” the man says with a smile. “Parece que ya le llevas un arreglo pero le gustan mucho las flores. Así esta mi esposa [looks like you already have an arrangement (bouquet )but she likes flowers. That’s how my wife is],” he says, nodding to the owner. Miguel quickly realizes the owner is the man’s wife. “You know, she pointed you guys out from the little early crowd.”

Miguel clears his throat, looking down at the bouquet of flowers. His mind immediately puts together what the man is insinuating, or rather what he believes.

“She did?” Miguel questions.

“She said that was us thirty-five years ago.”

“Oh,” Miguel says simply for a moment, struck by the fact that two more people have confused him and you for a couple in two weeks, remembering the lady from the grocery store. “We’re… just friends. Best friends.”

The man laughs as his wife and you walk back to them, talking. “That’s how my wife and I started. Friendship is one of the most essential foundations for a blissful and long marriage, mijo [my son]. Take it from me. Thirty-two years of marriage, three kids later. Something to think about, eh? Take care, mijo, and take care of that one, too,” the man says nodding at Miguel and then at you before he withdraws to meet his wife, leaving Miguel speechless.

He watches as the couple talk to you a bit more before finally letting you free. You join his side a few seconds later, smiling.

“Sorry, Mrs. Gonzalez wanted to show me other flowers she has in the back,” you say.

“You learned her name,” Miguel states.

“She introduced herself,” you reply with a shrug. “She was very excited about showing me some flowers. I couldn’t say no.”

“Did you like them?” he asks.

“They were lovely,” you answer, looking at a certain bouquet that caught your eye.

He nods and before you can say anything, he talks to the owners in Spanish.

“Me quiero llevar uno de esos arreglos, por favor. ¿Cuanto es? [I want to take one of those bouquets, please. How much?]”

You watch as the transaction is quickly made between Miguel and Mr. Gonzalez, the latter whispering something to Miguel that you can’t catch.

“¡Gracias, tenga un buen día, don [Thank you, have a good day, sir]!” Miguel says before walking back to you. He hands you the bouquet. “For… you. I noticed you eyeing these.”

You accept them. “Yes, these….” you reply, looking at them and feeling a little awestruck by the fact that you’re suddenly holding a bouquet of flowers bought by Miguel for you. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back. Maybe with some snacks from my universe,” you add at last, moving past the awe, as you both begin to walk.

“No paying back,” Miguel answers as he looks ahead, his tone being one that leaves no room for you argue about it. “It’s… a gift. Look, food trucks. Do you want some breakfast?” Miguel offers, changing the subject, and nodding at the food trucks as you both exit the flower market.

You end up having breakfast on some wooden picnic table under a large umbrella to shield yourselves from the sun since it’s summer now. You talk with ease, the tension from the last few days gone, at last. You both watch as the area quickly fills with more and more citizens from Nueva York, the city coming back to full life.

Instead of swinging back home in your suits, Miguel and you silently agree to walk on the way back. He carries both bouquets of flowers in his arms since he insisted on doing so before you left the picnic table. Together, you walk home, sticking by each other’s side like glue, with Miguel walking closest to the street, keeping you on the inside of the sidewalk.

Once you return home, Miguel and you head to the office room. There, you watch Miguel inject himself with that neon serum you now know about. He looks at you sheepishly as he does so.

“I forgot about it,” Miguel says placing the device down, a glow passing through his crimson eyes.

“It's understandable,” you reply, glad that Miguel is in a different mindset and taking care of this.

With that, you help Miguel print the new photos of Gabby. He makes extra copies for backup purposes, storing them in his personal home computer and multiple USB flashes, or some version of them since they look different in this dimension.

Miguel also retrieves the vase he mentioned the night before and at last, he has everything to set up his little altar for Gabby.

As he places one of the photos in the picture frame, you open the bouquet of flowers he bought for her and arrange it in his mom's vase.

When everything is ready, and the surface has been cleaned properly, you both approach the console table with the items. You stand by, holding the vase, and let Miguel work at his pace.

The photo is placed first and then the vase with pretty and fresh flowers. Miguel retrieves the guitar from where he left it last night and carefully places it next to the console table, taking a few moments to look at it.

He’s glad that it's not hidden away anymore, that he'll be able to look at it every day now. At last, he places a candle and lights it, completing the altar for now. Maybe in the future he'll change something, but right now, it's perfect.

The altar is beautiful. You love the fact that Miguel has added Gabby’s guitar, the flowers that bring such a lovely energy to the living room, but most of all, you love seeing Gabby’s photo on the console table.

And so does Miguel.

You both stand in front of the console table for several minutes, simply admiring and thinking about her in silence.

A while later, you both sit on the rooftop of Miguel’s building, peacefully. You remember that it’s a work day and that both Miguel and you are technically “late” to work by now, but you say nothing. You’re certain Miguel already knows what time it is, and that if he wanted to, both of you would’ve already been there. It seems he’s okay with being late today.

He gazes at the sky, at the soft cloud formations, thinking and unworried about making it to HQ. He trusts that the rest of the team can handle the tasks, just a few more hours, without either of you.

After some time of peaceful silence, Miguel remembers.

“How’s reconstruction going for your building?” he asks.

“It’s almost done. I think in a week or two, we should get the okay to move back in.”

Miguel almost frowns, but he keeps the same look on his face. A week or two. His chest feels heavy all of a sudden and he wonders where time went.

“That’s… Good for the building, and everyone,” Miguel forces himself to say. Sure, he’s glad that everyone will be able to go back, that you’ll have your apartment once again - the one you love so much. Hell, even he misses the comfort and coziness from it, but… Why does the idea hurt him more than he thought it would?

He gulps. In a week or two you’ll be gone, back to your universe. He places his hand on the rooftop’s ground, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours.

“Sorry,” he apologizes instantly, worried he may have squeezed some of your fingers with his larger hand.

“It’s alright,” you reply with a smile, keeping your hand where it was, unbothered.

Miguel places his hand near yours, both of you silent and thinking about your upcoming return to your apartment.

A part of you is happy your place will be available again and yet… You sigh softly, staring at the clouds just like Miguel.

Neither of you say anything else about it, equally avoiding further conversation regarding the matter without knowing.

“I know it’s barely time, but what if we stay here for lunch?” Miguel says after a while. “A homemade lunch.”

“That sounds great,” you reply. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Hmm,” Miguel hums, thinking. “What are you up to?”

You laugh. “I’m up for anything.”

“That narrows it down a lot, thank you,” Miguel says sarcastically with a soft smirk.

“Happy to help,” you reply with your own little smirk.

God, he’s going to miss having you here, Miguel suddenly thinks. He forces himself to not think of that. Not again today. He clears his throat. “Let’s head back. It’s growing hotter. We can think inside of what to cook.”

You both slip back inside the penthouse, into the cool air.

“Maybe we can make some chilaquiles [Mexican dish]?” you offer, now in the living room.

“That’s an idea,” Miguel replies as you both stop in front of Gabby’s altar once more.

You both stare at it, the candle still on.

Slowly, you offer your pinky finger. A second later without hesitation, Miguel wraps his around yours.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he says quietly. “Despite my mood.”

“Always,” you reply. “No matter what.”

Miguel gives your pinky a hug with his own. “Always.”

A minute later, you both head to the kitchen to start prepping lunch, splitting up tasks to finish sooner, leaving Gabby’s altar in the living room.

The candle’s flame flickers and dances, peacefully.

A/N: It's here!! The way life kept holding me back from writing this chapter?? But it's finally here :) I loved writing this one so much (I've loved writing every single chapter lets be real) but I've been planning the concept of you helping Miguel celebrate Gabby's birthday since part 3 when we first learned Miguel doesn't celebrate birthdays but instead, makes an ofrenda for his deceased loved ones. Can't believe we're already on part 17, or that we're even on a part 17 to begin with!

I'm going to make this as quick as possible because you've already given my fic and me so much time of your day/night, so... Some of you may or may not know but this month (July) will make one year since I started writing this story and writing fanfic again in general after several years. To be specific, I posted the first chapter on July 29th. 🥺

I seriously doubt that I'll have the next chapter by then, so I just wanted to take the time today to give you guys a huge THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart 🥹❤️ I say it again, and again, and again, but the support this story and my writing has received since I started writing fanfic again truly means so much to me!! I know I also say this a lot, but I genuinely didn't think many people would be interested to read this fanfic that initially was planned out to be only 3 or 4 parts long (lol). Almost a year later, I'm still writing and this story has turned into something so much more than I planned - so much bigger - thanks to you!! All the comments, the asks, the fanart, and you lovely people I get to interact with ... Wow!!! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be back to writing fanfiction, much less have it be received and loved so much!! 🥹

Special thank you to every single artist who has created fanart of Nonviolent Communication!! If you read this, I hope you know that you've made me so incredibly happy, blessed, grateful, honored, and so much more - to see such beautiful art inspired by my fic. Each time a fanart has been posted, I've screamed and cried out of excitement, and that's not exaggeration. I am beyond thankful to have the privilege of saying there's fanart for something I've written (sometimes I'm still like "no way" fr). God - my hands are shaking rn and my chest feels fuzzy. I'm a bit emotional lol, sorry, but THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! One day I may stop writing (I hope not) but please know I'm always going to cherish all the fanart (which is all saved in my computer and phone, and now tablet because it's that important to me)!!!!! 😭

I'm gonna end it here because as usual, I'm yapping in the author's note and also the tears are coming🫣 but please know, this means so much to me, and ily guys!!! Thank you for inspiring me to write for our fav Spider-Man, Miguel❤️

To celebrate a year, I'll be posting something regarding opening writing requests (for the first time) over the next week, so if you're interested, keep an eye out for my posts. I was trying to come up with something more exciting but that's all I could think of to celebrate!🤣

That's all. Thank you so much for reading again, and ily guys!! Take care!!

And for old time's sake, I still love Miguel O'Hara (even more)!!🥹

Alondra❤️

P.S. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp

@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii

[nefertitiacai]

Astro observations : "I GOT IT FROM MY DADDY" (AND MOMMY) edition

yk that one "DADDY" song by PSY sksksk

🪷 Venus in 4th house is an indicater of person being very beautiful and blessed with good looking genetics. They can also be conventionally attractive since 4th house also rules homeland, so they may be deemed as attractive where they live. A genetically blessed placement.

🪷 Jupiter in the 4th house is also an indicator for having a feature that may be "large" that runs through the family. Like being voluptuous or tall. Again a "genetically blessed" placement.

🪷 Sun/Jupiter in the 10th house individuals can learn a lot of stuff related to careers and build connections through their father.

🪷 Moon/Saturn in the second house may have some distinct facial features which resemble their parents. As both are considered planets that rule over parents and the second house rules over face.

🔴 (TW: Generational Trauma) ⏬

(also the observation and remedies which I've mentioned are purely based on generalization, if you may be dealing with it on a serious note then consulting a medical/health care professional is what is required💚)

🪷 Those who have Mars/Chiron/Saturn/Pluto in the 4th house/cancer/conj Moon may beat themselves up for a certain "flaw" which they consider themselves to have. This habit or problem may make them feel powerless. As if they are unable to change it. However, in actuality that "problem" didn't start with them but may be a generational thing/a characteristic which got inherited from a family member. [Our genetics play a major role in general with the way we are today (yes even personality-wise). But one can change it by will and if they indulge in self-improvement techniques like meditation, visualization, journaling with clear intentions, and other mindful activities]

📚 (PS. as a book enthusiast to others who are into reading self help books I'd recommend those who are dealing with such problems to read the book "It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle" by Mark Wolynn 😃)

(TW: mommy issues) moon conj Pluto placement and being notorious with mommy issues.

However, in my case, I have this placement and I don't feel it to be like that. My relationship with my mom is a very typical one. We have different views on certain stuff but we aren't toxic. Nonetheless, what I consider really to be toxic is my mom's side of the family and her childhood had also not been the best. So this placement actually may be something regarding the fact that your mum had to go through a lot and if you know that fact then it is easy to forgive her and give her a tight hug whenever you can.

This placement can also be an indicator of the child's mom going through a stressful phase during the time of the birth.

🟢 TW over, ok enough with sad stuff now 🤧

🪷 It is an observation but I've noticed Sagittarius, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Leo placements folks may resemble their father's looks and personality-wise distinctively. Like there's that one feature that they may also be known for like, "you have a smile like your dad". It may be due to them being ruled by Jupiter, Saturn, and sun respectively, the celestial bodies which deal with "fatherly figures" in astrology.

🪷 Leo, Cancer, Aries, Gemini and Capricorn placements 🤝 acting all wholesome and cute when their mom is around.

🪷 If you and your sibling both have prominent mercury placements then you might hear someone saying this at some point "oh YoU BOth LoOk likE eACh otHer a Lot" and y'all will be like "b*tch no, from which angle, I am obviously more gorgeous 😤" 

🪷You know being a Sagittarius 🐎(also honorable mention Aquarius and Pisces) this proverb literally go with us for our parents 'You can lead a horse 🐎 to water but you can't make him drink '

📚[ PS.  if the horse is willing then only it'll drink, you can't drink water on its behalf. (That's the universal truth with life btw, you are responsible for your own tasks. Others can only guide you but in the end, it's you who will have to act, innit)]

Even though it is for our own "good" and "wellbeing" that our parents do and force these placements to be doing things in a certain way these placements will only "keep drink up to it" if it gives them a feeling of expansion and freedom. (That's why Sagittarius and Pisces placements are deemed to be "irresponsible" but that's not the case. And Aquarius placements have a reputation to be "rebellious" but that's unlikely. These placements most of the time may think ahead of their time and may have a bigger picture on things that's why they may consider certain tasks to be irrelevant (however it can also backfire and this certainly doesn't mean to be an excuse to run away))

🪷 Virgo and Libra placements tend to have good mannerisms which may be taught by their parents. They are big on punctuality. Also, they are well-behaved and sweet people. Often being talked about as "their parents raised them well". 

Virgo is associated with the 6th house which is also the house that rules over service so they tend to be helpful. Libra on the other hand is associated with the 7th house which is the house of partnerships, that's why they like to treat people with kindness and have a pleasing appeal. Like a comrade. (Although this also has a shadow aspect to it, this can make these placements to be perfectionists in unhealthy amounts and they may start to have people-pleasing tendencies. They may also grow pessimistic since many people may view their kindness to be their weakness, which is not true at all you guys, y'all are great and don't fall into what those low vibrational people have to say.)

It's 11:11 while I type this 💫 also, umaru chan is so adorable

[gguk-n]

Racing smiles (Lewis Hamilton x Dentist!Reader SMAU)

@lh44girl suggested a dentist!reader with Lewis Hamilton. Hope I was able to do it some justice.

A/N-CONGRATULATIONS TO LEWIS ON HIS 9TH HOME WIN!! SO HAPPY!! THIS IS COULD BE LIKE A CELEBRATION SMAU!!

lewishamilton followed purepearldentalclinic & theteethwhisperer pureperaldentalclinic followed lewishamilton

lewishamilton

Liked by purepealdentalclinic and 12,567,876 others tagged purepealdentalclinic

lewishamilton I'm a huge advocate of taking care of yourself including your teeth. Got my dental problems fixed by the sweetest dentist. Do check purepealdentalclinic out. It's a new establishment, show it some of your love.

purepealdentalclinic It was delight having you. You are one of the best patients I’ve had. user 1 That million dollar smile gotta cost a pretty penny😍😍 user 2 Totally checking the dentist out if I need dental help👍 user 3 They must have great service if Lewis is recommending it himself🤔🤔 theteethwhisperer I heard the dentist there is super pretty🙈🙈 lewishamilton theteethwhisperer it seems the dentist is also quite vain😔

purepearldentalclinic

Liked by theteethwhisperer and 426 others

purepearldentalclinic Glad to announce the grand inauguration of Pure Pearl Dental Clinic. We are going to be helping fix one smile at a time. Do stop by if you need any work done or just a regular check ups. The first month all the fees are discounted. The dentist incharge is Dr Y/N Y/L/N, board certified Orthodontist.

user 4 Came here bc of Lewis, looks okay I guess lewishamilton Congratulations!! wishing you all the luck for your business Liked by Author bff/user 10/10 would recommend. Kind doctor and staff.

theteethwhisperer

Liked by bff/user, lewishamilton and 235 others

theteethwhisperer It's race weekend and we had an F1 watch party!! I may or may not have closed the clinic early to watch it!!

bff/user Atleast we had fun and that's all the matter lewishamilton Next time you wanna watch a race let me know, I can get you tickets theteethwhisperer lewishamilton OMG!! PADDOCK PASSES YESSS!! friend/user We should do this again!! user 5 Lewis I want paddock passes too🥺🥺

theteethwhisperer

Liked by lewishamilton and bff/user and 578 others

theteethwhisperer I work hard and play hard #paristrip #girlstrip #dentistlife

bff/user I knew becoming friends with you in grade school was a great idea🥹🤧 lewishamilton You went to Paris without me?😒😔 theteethwhisperer lewishamilton Guess I missed the memo😳 user 6 Is it just me or does Lewis never miss a single post of hers?🤔🤔 user 7 She is pretty but like she ain't Nicole😒😒

lewishamilton

Liked by theteethwhisperer and 11,257,976 others

lewishamilton On the rocks Almave

theteethwhisperer I've never barked for a man, but I guess there's a first time for everything🙂‍↕️ lewishamilton theteethwhisperer Well, there's a first time for everything. Let's see where this first time takes us😏😏 user 8 I didn't know Sir Lewis had rizz🤨🤨 user 1 Eww that girl so desperate😤😤 user 2 Why is she acting like a horny teenager? Isn't she an adult with an adult job?🙄🙄

lewishamilton

Liked by theteethwhisperer and 13,568,987 others

lewishamilton The past few days have been all love. Thank you all, the energy and support means everything. Can't wait to start this season. 2024 is all us 🎯

theteethwhisperer Good luck for the season!! 8th WDC!!👊👊 Liked by the Author user 3 Good luck Lewis!! ❤️❤️always rooting for you user 4 That girl is starting to get on my nerve tbh😡😡 user 5 Can she shut the fuck up and stop being so thirsty for Lewis, we get it, he's hot. Find another man🙃🙃 user 6 Damn, shirtless Lewis does things to me🥵🥵

lewishamilton

Liked by theteethwhisperer and 3,632,993 others

lewishamilton YES🍾🍾🍾 945 days since the last win and it's finally come home. SILVERSTONE I LOVE YOU. There's no crowd that deserves this more. This is love, this is family. Thank you all for the love and support. Massive shout to the team as well. Everyone in the garage and back at the factory have given long hard hours for this result. It's not been easy but it's brought us back to back wins for the team. Most importantly we didn't lose hope. We didn't give up. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU KEEP GOING. STILL WE RISE 🇬🇧🏆❤️!!!

landonorris Congrats mate👊 georgerussel63 You deserve it, mate👏 valterribottas Well done champ! theteethwhisperer Can't believe I have the most talented and hardworking boyfriend who deserves the world and this home win!! ❤️❤️So proud of babe!! 😘😘💋💋Let's celebrate once you're back😏😉 lewishamilton theteethwhisperer Can't believe I have the smartest, kindest, most soft spoken girlfriend. 😍😍Can't wait to be back in your arms❤️❤️ user 7 when did they start dating?? 🙂🙂also CONGRATULATIONS LEWIS!! 👏👏LOVE YOU❤️ user 8 can't believe this, neither the win nor the relationship announcement😭😭🤯 user 1 at least she's super smart, so like it balances out. So proud of you Lewis!! 9th home win🥵🥵❤️❤️ user 2 I didn't see this coming. I did tbh. Power couple. Dentist and GOAT of F1😘😘😭😭

[darlingnomii]

StepBro Mankae Line

warnings; perv skz, stepcest, degrading, reader is still over 19, more consensual noncon??, a liiittllee somno and dry humping, absolute debauchery 🤧🥴, possible typos, dont hold it to me, yeah?

PART TWO OF SKZ STEPDADDY'S (hyung line)

hwang hyunjin as your sweet artistic stepbro. hes always asking to draw you, or just draws you randomly any way. you found no problem when he asked to paint you nude, why not? in the name of art, yes? he asked again, no problem! third time.. is he even painting right now? the way his arm is moving doesn't look like brush strokes.. he's stroking something alright. definatly painted the canvas with something. wasn't paint tho- hmm, could you blame him? i mean, you look like a goddess posing on that stool with the light hitting your breasts just right. he want to paint your breast instead of the canvas with his selfmade white paint. absolutely addicted

han jisung as your typical pervy stepbro. steals your panties out of the hamper to sniff and jerk off with. watches your ass while you load the dishwasher, load the washer/dryer, or just plain bending over. watched so much step porn, he hopes you get stuck so he can fuck you out of it. poor boy is going so feral over the way you smell, the way your ass jiggles in your pajama shorts, and the way your breast bounce freely in your shirt. doesn't even wait for you to get stuck at this point, you just bent over to scoop the clothes out of the dryer and next thing you know, something hard is pressing against you. he masks it as trying to get past you to grab his clothes but you know dammn well he didn't have to brush that big ass boner directly against your pussy 🙄

lee felix as your shy pervy stepbro. quitely watches all the step porn he can and admires your body from a distance. takes pictures of you when you're in compromising or just plain sexy positions so he can jerk off later. also sleals your panties but he makes sure to put them back when he's done ❤ definatly listens to you when you get yourself off so he can jerk off with you, imaging its your pussy wrapped around his cock instead of his hand. another precious boy that has that post orgasm guilt but he just cant bring himself to stop thinking about how sexy and perfect his step sis is 🥺

kim seungmin who just doesn't gaf stepbro. confronts you about your skimpy clothes around the house. 'you trying to give me a boner? hm? look at these skimpy shorts,' tugs at them teasingly before yanking them off 'is this slutty little pussy wet for me too? for your step bro?' teases you more as he plays with your cunt, but he likes it just as much as you :) wants to bury his face between your thighs and have you overstimulated on his tongue 🤤

yang jeongin as another shy stepbro. at least at first. feels realllyy bad for making you pick up things just so he can see the curve of your ass or the cleavage of your tits, not enough to make him stop tho. puts things up high so when you call him to come get it or he sees you struggling, he comes up behind to grind against you, innocently. smacks your ass as a joke... maybe... okay not as a joke but it seems that way. mesmerized by the way it jiggles with impact, UGH he can watch it all day. likes sleeping with you so he can spoon you and grind against your ass while you sleep. he could hump that cushie ass all night but after one orgasm, he has to get up and clean himself before coming back and acually going to sleep. no promises that you wont wake up with a hard hotdog between your buns 🤭

[k-tarotz]

can you fo an ateez cersion of who would cheat .....

y’all like this more than I thought but I think I kind of get it so no judgment here 🤧 will do this w twice and riize as well since they have been requested

seonghwa

queen of pentacles, five of swords, ten of cups

unfortunately yes.

but not with his body, he might just do it emotionally, meaning he might fall in love with somebody else while he is in a serious and committed relationship with someone. he knows it’s not exactly correct to do and that it’s not right but he might as well just be one of those people who think/say “I have so much love in my heart and I have to share it”, you know? he doesn’t exactly have the strongest control of his emotions, if any at all. he is too idealistic and might be drawn to toxic dynamics.

hongjoong

two of wands, ace of pentacles, strength

no

nope! like everyone, he has his faults but he seems like a very family oriented guy who always plans ahead for the future. no matter how much he thinks about it cheating just doesn’t seem worth it at all to him. even if he would be attracted to someone he would have better self control than to just throw away his life like that for a few minutes, at the very least, that’s his own self image of himself. although, I do want to mention that rather than his loyalty stemming from a desire of love towards his partner it’s pretty much fuelled by his ego, the thought that it makes him better than other people so he has to keep being loyal. not to say he wouldn’t love his partner, because he would, it’s rather just a subconscious motive.

yunho

temperance, nine of wands, nine of cups

no, lol

this one reminds me of felix, because they both would become annoyed if you ever asked them wether or not they would cheat on their partner. the answer is of course not! yunho is much more mature than that and prefers to give all his love to only one person you know? if he is in love, he is all in. he doesn’t take cheating as something light, at all. he prefers dating seriously and nothing can really change that, no matter how desperately someone comes onto him. (bc he for sure wouldn’t make moves on anyone while in a relationship.)

yeosang

page of cups, hermit, six of pentacles

yes :///

I will be honest, yeosang seems like a pure and innocent person but exactly because of that he doesn’t fully comprehend the weight of emotional cheating. he definitely would, and he would keep it a secret because he is aware that having a crush or being in love with someone else while you are in a relationship is wrong but he is pretty much easily swept away by puppy love kind of emotions. this would especially happen if his partner makes him sad. no mistreatment necessary, just prone to falling for someone else in a relationship that doesn’t go smoothly.

san

the emperor, three of cups, ten of wands, the chariot, page of wands

hell no lol

in his eyes, if he is in love with someone and they have committed to one another his job is to make that person feel loved, safe and comfortable every single day, whenever they interact. he desires to protect his partner and be someone they are able to rely on, so to him cheating is stupid. why would he hurt someone that he loves so deeply? he wouldn’t, and quite frankly wouldn’t even give it a second thought bc he already is aware he has no desires to do this. if he has a problem with his partner he rather would find a solution to deal with it together, even if it’s silly or unusual but it would never involve bringing a third person into their relationship because that’s just not right in his eyes. it would affect him quite negatively if his partner were to ever suggest it too, because in his eyes they are the only one. although, I do think he isn’t the kind of person who would distance himself from his friends just because he is in a relationship. some view that as cheating, but I don’t and neither does he. he would prefer to be close to both his partner and friends you know?

mingi

the star, five of swords, four of swords

nah

he seems like such a lover boy since the cards show that he would only have eyes for his partner and no one else. might as well kiss the ground they walk on, because he would look at them as very beautiful, loving and deserving of the world. he would never cheat and expect them to be loyal as well. though, he seems so anxious to lose what he deems as the love of his life that even if he were to get cheated on he would forgive them even though it would put him in a lot of emotional pain. (mingi stand up ??) regardless, he views cheating as such a vile, mean and ill spirited form of betrayal that the thought of it annoys him. he wouldn’t do it because he wouldn’t have a desire for it and he would also have an anxiety towards losing his partner and a bright future.

wooyoung

the hierophant, two of swords, knight of pentacles

no, tf

no, lmao. his energy in this is quite similar to san, but his is a bit more calm. he wouldn’t ever cheat, because it wouldn’t even be a possibility for him. he would be blind to that option. so rather than being mad or disheartened if anyone were to suggest he would be perplexed and offended they felt comfortable asking that. regardless, he has a very nurturing energy and seems to want to get married one day in life. not now, more than likely not soon, but he wants to get married once and he wants it to be a stable and loving relationship. so to him loyalty is an absolute necessity, like something you don’t have to ask your partner for but an act of love that you both owe to one another regardless of what happens in life.

jongho

four of cups, eight of pentacles

nope

he doesn’t seem to have a strong opinion on it other than a huge feeling of annoyance, but he does have morals when it comes to cheating… which is simply to not do it at all. it’s unnecessary and it’s taking your partner for granted. rather than cheating he would much rather prefer spoiling his partner with love whenever someone flirts with him or something he doesn’t like happens. not necessarily with gifts, but rather with loving them unconditionally and seeking their warmth and closeness. he is also the type to stand up for and protect his partner even when they aren’t around rather than use that vulnerable to stab them in the back. his love seems like a serious, deep and true one. to him his partner is not something to be played with, but a human with emotions and value.

no lies y’all, this turned out much more positive than I thought it would! I hope you could enjoy this anon 🫶🏻

– Candy

[weirdsht]

What if Cale Henituse had someone special during his time as Kim Rok Soo? Although they were never officially a couple, it was clear to everyone that their relationship went beyond mere friendship. Slowly but surely, KRS grew more comfortable and at ease around this person until they were killed. Brutally (lmaaooo I'm sorryy HAHAHWHAHW). Later, they reunite in his life as Cale Henituse, but reader has changed significantly because, like KRS, they too have been transmigrated. Their life has been deeply affected and troubled by their own close relatives, unlike Cale, who, despite some hesitation from his family, at least had the comfort of a family that cares about his safety and well-being overall. (Dyk Roxanna from TWTPTFLOB? Basically her family. If you don't know, basically her family is torturous to have. I think normal ppl would die if they suddenly transmigrated as a part of Roxanna's family because they're the definition of insanity)

I'm sorry if this is too much, feel free to scroll past 🤧💌

Our Fragile Promise in Magnolia - Cale/Reader

notes: Yes the title is a bunch of Laufey song titles. Shameless plugin but my fics Close and Can I Really have similar concepts to this one

tags: female reader, novel spoilers (war), angst? not sure, very loud unspoken feelings

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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_____ stares at a male figure’s back. She’s used to looking at it. At finding comfort in it. How can she not? His back always seems so big. So strong. As if it’s capable of shielding her from everything.

However, this time that back looks smaller than how she remembers it.

And _____ is the reason for that.

“_____ don’t you dare close your eyes, don’t you dare fall asleep on me”

“Wake up! Just why did I get cursed with such an airhead child…”

The woman in front of the girl daydreaming speaks exasperatedly, bringing her back to reality.

It reminds _____ of who she currently is. How she’s not on earth fighting monsters anymore. How she has been granted another life.

Another life, another suffering.

“Follow me, the meeting is starting.”

The woman, _____’s mother, looked behind her to see if her daughter was still following.

“If you utter one word that causes our family disgrace you know what will happen to you. Won’t you, my dear?”

_____, who’s currently 20 years old in this life, is both used to and tired of the sickeningly sweet smile on her mother’s face.

“Yes, mother.”

She internally laughs but says nothing outwardly. Just how scared is her mother from the announcement of war that she dared talk to her like that? 

It reminded her of when she was a child.

A time before she rose to power within that useless family of hers.

“Your name is _____?”

“Why? Do you have any problem with it?”

“No, it suits you.”

The woman was taken aback by the nonchalant compliment. The man in front of her has said it as if it didn’t mean much. No, for him it probably really didn’t mean anything. 

But it meant the world to _____.

It was the first time she had received a compliment. And for something as insignificant as the name she gave herself.

‘Thanks, I gave it to myself since no one was willing to name me’

Were the words she held back from saying, not wanting to ruin the moment.

_____ never would have thought that she would become best friends with that very same man.

Clang!

The young woman watched as the silver plaque hit the table. The noise it made snapped the young woman out of her daydream.

She looked at the silver plaque and saw the crest of the royal family on it.

It’s easy to understand what it means.

Cale Henituse, the one famous as the young master silver shield, is now officially the Roan Kingdom’s Northeast Commander.

Not that _____ had any issues with it. She has heard about the famous young master. He may be young but he has the qualifications. Plus who is she to question the crown’s decisions?

If the crown has decided that Cale as commander is what the kingdom needs to defend itself against the Indomitable Alliance then so must be it.

However, not once has _____ looked at the famous redhead. Hence why when he started speaking again the young noble took it as a chance to take a good look.

The first thing that caught her attention was his long red hair. It was the same shade as blood. As if he was a vampire that drank so much blood it turned his hair into one.

But it wasn’t a gruesome sight. Quite the opposite actually. _____ finds his hair to be very pretty. It reminds her of a beautiful flame that’s forever ignited. Always strong and never extinguishing despite the strong winds that come its way.

“Kim Rok Soo..?”

As soon as _____ saw the commander’s eyes her world stopped. She knows those eyes very well. Has stared at them countless times for her to not know.

It couldn’t be.

Maybe they just have the same eye colour.

Kim Rok Soo’s reddish brown eyes might be rare back in her old world but nothing is impossible in this new one.

So it can’t be.

However, she can’t deny it.

She can’t deny that the way he lands his gaze is the same as him. The sorrow that is buried deep within those copper-like eyes is the same.

The way he stared at her knowingly was the same.

But she still tries.

She tries her best to deny it.

To deny him.

Because it can’t be. That can’t be him. That can’t be her best friend slash love of her life.

It’s just not possible.

And if it was then she must avoid him as much as possible. 

For she has changed. And she is well aware of the fact that she has changed. She may have the same face and the same name, but she has become all too different.

She doesn’t want her love to see the new version of her.

 Two people sat on the ground. Their back leaning against the sofa behind them. It’s a rare day when the two of them have a day off so they have decided to spend it by reading novels together.

“If you try to say another spoiler I’m going to seal your mouth shut.”

“But you have to listen to this!”

The woman tries to argue while tapping on a page of the book she’s currently reading.

“I’ll find out about it when I read it.”

“But I want to talk about it now!”

Kim Rok Soo shook his head at her. As if he couldn’t believe this was the same fierce person fighting monsters on the battlefield.

“Then wait.”

_____ internally smiled at the memory. She feels that familiar warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt for so long. As she did, she thought that it was a good idea to avoid Cale Henituse. She’s not sure if they’re the same person. And if they were she doesn’t know if he remembers her.

But it’s better to be on the safe side.

After all, it’d be embarrassing to see such a lively person turn into a shell of what they used to be.

“Just how long do I have to put up with this?”

_____ mumbled to herself as she picked at her food.

“Did you say something dear?”

“Nothing mother.”

She reciprocated her mother’s smile. After years of socializing with this family, she has learned to smile and bear it all. Things will become more complicated if she tries to refute.

“Where’s the antidote? Mix it in my usual juice.”

_____ orders her maid after lunch. The maid bowed and followed her orders like clockwork.

After all, this wasn’t the first time the young lady had been poisoned by her own family.

They see her as both a threat and an asset.

They try to bring her down, make themself look superior. But at the same time, they know that they need her.

It’s comedic. Really.

“My lady a letter has arrived.”

_____’s trusted maid hands her a tray that contains a glass of juice and a letter.

“That seal… It looks like it’s from the Henituse family.”

The young lady waved her hand away and the maid went out of the room.

Badump. Badump.

Her heart beats wildly in her chest and it’s not just because of the poison she consumed.

It’s not uncommon to receive letters from the guardians of the Dark Forest. They are business partners after all.

However _____ couldn’t help but feel nervous after the recent events.

Quickly drinking her juice that contains the antidote in one go, the transmigrator pulls the courage to open the letter.

“You have a very peculiar way of writing. I think I’d be able to recognize it anywhere.”

_____ hovered over Kim Rok Soo as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

“I would say you’re exaggerating but knowing you two, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Choi Jung Soo spoke up from the couch while eating some sort of junk food.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Rok Soo retaliates. His hands let go of the pencil in order to focus on his sworn brother.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just saying. But hey, is that any way to speak to your hyung?”

“Again why are you the hyung? We were born on the same day”

“I was born first!”

True to what _____ said, she immediately recognized the handwriting on the letter. Its contents were concise, exactly how he likes to do things. 

“He did his homework.”

The letter just said that the commander wanted to have a private meeting with _____ in order to talk about the upcoming war. The young noble instantly understands that he must want to talk about her territory’s military force.

She may not have an official title. She isn’t even declared as an official heir. Yet insiders, those who have a wide information network, will know that _____ is the one in control of her territory. 

_____ doesn’t want to respond. But she has to. He wasn’t speaking as Cale Henituse or Kim Rok Soo. 

He was speaking as Roan Kingdom’s Northeast Commander.

He was standing on business.

For he probably knows that’s the only way _____ wouldn’t avoid him.

Kim Rok Soo holds on the bleeding body in his arms. 

Bleeding is an understatement.

The left side of her torso is gone. Eaten by the monster they are fighting.

“H ey, do you re member… remember our pro mise?”

A weak voice asks him. Kim Rok Soo nodded his head, too choked up to speak.

He does. Of course, he does. How can he forget?

He’ll record everything she says, no matter how trivial they are.

“Great… Th en  I guess– I guess I can rest in pe ace.”

Kim Rok Soo doesn’t want that. He doesn’t need that.

“Don’t close your eyes. Please hold on. For me, for us. Please _____”

He begs. It’s so uncharacteristically of him to beg, but if it does the trick then he’ll do it a million times over.

_____ weakly chuckled. She may be weak and dying but there’s still fire in her eyes. A fire that will never be extinguished even in the face of death.

… or so Cale thought.

The fire that he thought would never die down is barely there in her eyes.

But it was still there.

It may be small. Struggling. But it’s there.

Alive and fighting to be as bright as it was before.

“_____…”

“Our business is now done, Commander Cale Henituse. If you have further business in the future please feel free to send me a letter like before.”

“_____.“

The young lady’s voice was firm, but Cale’s voice was firmer. He has no plans of letting her run away again.

He wouldn’t be able to let her slip from his embrace once more.

“Isn’t that concept sweet though?”

The two best friends are talking. They just finished a novel and are now discussing its contents with each other.

“You’re just a romantic.”

“But think about it. Promising to find each other even in another universe. Being together in every dimension…”

_____ stopped talking, lost in thought as she reminisced about the novel. Kim Rok Soo took it as a chance to stare at her face.

He has seen many people. Has read many descriptions of beautiful people in books.

But in his opinion, nothing beats _____’s looks.

Kim Rok Soo might be biased. His willing to admit that much. But his opinion won’t change.

“Hey Rok Soo?”

“What do you want?”

He grumbled as he suddenly came face to face with his “best friend”. Her face was full of excitement as she thought of a new idea.

“Let’s promise each other that in our next life, we’ll find each other again. Then let’s spill all of our secrets when we do. Not leaving anything out.”

Her idea sounds childish. Would they even remember anything in their next life? Would they even have a next life? If they did would they recognize each other?

Those were the thoughts that raced through Kim Rok Soo.

However, he doesn’t say it.

Because it was a silent confession. The best one they can give each other in this ruined world.

A promise to spill all their secrets huh?

It doesn’t need saying. Those secrets were probably talking about their feelings.

“Sure, I promise. We’ll meet again in our next life and tell each other everything.”

“_____”

Cale called out for the third time. _____ has changed and Cale has an inkling as to what brought that change.

Nothing he can’t handle.

His planning to overthrow an empire. Dealing with a noble family is nothing.

He’ll make things right.

Set things straight.

“I never break my promises. You know that _____.”

Cale– no Kim Rok Soo will make sure to fulfil his promise.

[karmaajr]

HEYO Y'ALL!!!! I got bored and decided my last intro post was WAY too unorganised (even by my standards frfr 😔😔🙏) so i made a new one!!! hopefully this ones a bit better or else ima light somebody on fire 🥰🥰

anyways dms n asks r ALWAYS open and if ur new to my person-being-blog-whatevs and wanna get to know me or smth then FEEL FREE TO SLIDE IN GIRLYPOPS!!! I'M ALWAYS BORED SOO 😭😭🙏 (might take like, a billion years to reply tho mbmb >:3)

and thus again, without any further ado, MY INTRO POST 😍

🎶 try to strike a chord but it's probably A MINOR 🎶 -> ✨️im under 18✨️ idm nsfw convos tho bcuz theyre funny :D

sooo tbh you can call me whatever you want? like ppl call me different things (eg senka calls me kam, bea calls me keke/kekere bcuz shes 🎶a meanie, a big meanie🎶 my irl bestie westie pookie poo calls me jeena CUZ HES A LIL BITCH) but MHM!!! CALL ME WHATEVER U WANNA <33 (as long as it dont feel masc bcuz my dumbass got issues w feeling masc for some RANDOM STUPID REASON 💀) (like im literally a cis girl why do i got problems w this....... but YAAAA 😭) (she/her btw!!! if that wasnt obvious!! ^^)

✨️i am cringe but i am free✨️

I SOMETIMES USE GENDERED TERMS LIKE GIRLY/BRO/DUDE/ETC BUT I DON'T MEAN IT GENDERED SO IF YOU FEEL IFFY THEN DONT HESITATE TO HMU N TELL ME TO FIX UP MY SHIT

btw im a tad bit of train wreck but if u enjoy the chaos then we'll get along js fine i think pooks 😋😋

anyways it came to my shitty little attention span one day when i was just being a silly lil girly that some of yall think im white when i say im british....... CHAT NOOO IM BORN N RAISED IN THIS TEA RIDDEN COUNTRY BUT ETHNICITY WISE IM BANGLADESHI!??!?! YALL IM LITERALLY A BROWNIE OMFDS 🤧

also a lot of this blog is a bunch of reblogs of shit im interested in BUT I DO HAVE OG STUFFFFFF, THEY'RE JUST IN THEIR OWN TAGS U GET ME??? anyways some of the tags!!!

karmaajr rambles -> for everything i post besides answers to asks :3

karmaajr answers ig :D -> answers to asks ^^

important thing for me to tag bcuz yes -> random thing i really wanna save (also im bad at tagging so sometimes thing has an "s" or tag has an "s" lmfao, ITS A RLLY USELESS TAG TO TRY SCROLL THRU ICL.... RLLY DRY AS WELL)

karmas mum mentions :3 -> i like to think this one explains itself yall 😘

daddy's unhinged -> anything about my sweet ol' pops (who totes cares abt me yall) 🥰

my sister and I -> anything my sister is involved in that i actually remember to tag LMFAO

NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK -> me wanting to save things that r to do w my gf 🫶

BTW HIS @ IS @panikbutt0n AND SHE'S MY MAPLE SYRUP CHUGGING 4LIFER AND LITERALLY THE BEST THING SINCE RIPPED BREAD AND I LOVE HER SO SO SO MUCH SO ACC HIT HER UP PLZ 🙏🙏🙏🙏

btw yall, ur homegirl aint no gatekeeper so the group matching pfp thingy is from @tuturthecarvroom 's blog (n they very skibidi sbg art btw so i do reccomend frfr) and mY HEADER IS OFF GOOGLE SEARCH 😍😍

ALSO I AM CURRENTLY MATCHING WITH THE SILLIEST GROUP EVER FRFR, GONNA TRY @ THEM ALL BUT IT'S HARDDD (my memory is the shittiest thing since That One Time my friend shit his trousers on call w me 💪💪💪)

@lee1504 -> BRAINROTTED KING 🙏🙏

@d011zk1ll -> both kind af and somewhat unhinged??? like both "do a good deed to make somebody else's life easier ☺️" AND "im gonna eat a bicycle :p"

@sketchingwithlyn -> JUST THE CHILLEST GUY EVERRRR!!!!

@rot-decay-erosion -> gramps 🧓🏻 (also known as the desendant of our king garfield 😙✨️)

@afrogwhocantdraw -> RESIDENT BENLOR POOKIE

@low-senka -> the brokest senior citezen youve ever met 💔💔💔💔 (yall need to donate to my guy 🥺🥺🥺)

(also the thing below had me stuck looking at it for literally AGES so hehehehehhehehe GET TRAPPED IDIOT!!!!!! >:3!!!!!)

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(dots r fun)

anyways i have no clue what else to write!!! which is weird bcuz im a yapper frfr :D

ANYWAYS LOVE Y'ALL ✨️✨️✨️

WAIT

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.......... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

.................... ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ ⁠⁠

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..................................................ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ���ᐷ ⁠⁠

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THEY 👥 DONT🙅🏼‍♀️ LOVE 😘 YOU 🫵🏼 LIKE I 👀 LOVE 🥰 YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼

[love-toxin]

Any thoughts on Welt btw?? I love him too he's so adorable 🤧🤧 Looks so serious and stuff, but actually cutie...

And his belts. Fuck. His belts.......

ugh so old man coded i love him....I can def see him being a classic dad to an Astral Express crewmate. "Did you brush your teeth did you get enough sleep have you eaten do you need a drink-" the man just smothers you all the time because yes, the crew is like a family, but without your real family around you must get pretty lonely, no? He just takes on all your problems and makes you care for yourself even if you don't feel like it, cause he can't stand the thought of you not being tended to. It'd take him soooo long to realize it's love. Probably needs Himiko to spell it out for him just for him to realize. But when he does he just manages to take it in stride and not make a fuss, even though now he's consumed with thoughts of what to do and whether he should tell you or if you might already know and you're waiting for him to make a move. It probably doesn't move along until something big happens, until somebody tries to hurt you, the one he cares for the most...and then it's glaringly obvious when he gets in their face and teaches them a brutal lesson that Welt feels so much more for you than he lets on.

[shall-we-die]

simeon and C please <3

╔‌‌‌‌═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚

{Cum}

☰[Main list]•⊰ Obey me!

Anything to do with cum?

╚═══════════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

• (Let me tell you something, I had a lot of guilt while writing this... It's really hard to write smut about characters who are... so innocent 🤧) Simeon likely does not have much experience with cum, as he is a celestial-kind angel and thus is not meant to breed or have that kind of physical relationship with anyone, even other angels. This also may have to do with his general innocence and lack of any sort of romantic/sexual desires, so he likely has never done anything intimate with cum nor has he ever really thought about it.

• Anyways, he's a clean person and he's also a virgin...so he won't usually do anything dirty with cum. Also, most likely, in his first experience with you, he will be very shy and cannot even look you in the eyes. He prefers to cum in a towel, and won't let you touch it at all.

• Your cum? Well, unlike himself, he has no problem with yours. He tries to put aside his shyness and explore your body more. So he takes off his gloves and touches you more. after that things between you gradually get better and his shyness goes away. {"This is the most embarrassing thing I've ever done, but... feels good."}

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

"Aaah!...ugh—!" Simeon can be quite noisy depending on his level of arousal. He may moan, groan, or even shout if he's feeling particularly passionate.

"...MC!..." He can also be quite demanding when being touched by you, wanting to feel your touch all over him with an almost desperate intensity.

He pulls you closer with the least amount of energy he had in his hands, wanting more and more of your touch.

He was expressing his pleasure with loud moans and whispers, telling you how much he's enjoying because of your touch on his lengths. "MC... it's... it's... Uh!...so good." When you touch him, he becomes almost frantic, reaching out to touch you back.

Simeon likes to hear expressions of love from you. He wants to feel appreciated and loved, and words help to make that happen. "MC... I love you."

"Love you too." You said, continuing on jerking him off. Simeon appreciates when you show you care. It can be anything from that simple "I love you"s to more complex affirmations that demonstrate how Simeon is special to you and how you will always be there for him.

He covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself from moaning. When he looked at your face, when he saw how you looked at his reactions with your beautiful eyes while jerking his length, his face blushed. His heart beats fast. His eyes become teary.

"You're... you're making me crazy." His eyes drawn to the curve of your neck, the way your hair drapes over your shoulders, and the soft skin of your hands.

"Is that so?... but it's too soon to become crazy." You said, showing him an indifferent mask to tease him more, Touching the tip of his length with your thumb.

You looked at his red face... so you start touching his belly with your other hand. When you touch Simeon, he can't help but feel a rush of euphoria and butterflies in his stomach. He loves when you run your hand against his ticklish skin, caressing and rubbing his body. He's never felt such pleasure from anyone before and it makes him feel loved, safe, and special. Simeon melts when he feels the warmth and affection from your hands.

"You're so slow..." He said, panting. Yes, you were painfully slow, torturing him with your hands, eyes, and all your actions.

When Simeon felt the touch of your lips on his body, he feels a rush of sensations going through his entirety. He shivers because of the heat, because how warm and tight your mouth was around his length.

Simeon thoroughly enjoys when you kiss his body. It causes chills to run up his spine and he can feel his heart beating faster in anticipation for more. He begins to feel dizzy as the sensations become too much for him to bear. "MC! MC!...I'm... I'm, I'm cu— Ah!"

He moaned for last time and covered his face with his hands, but he couldn't hide his embarrassment completely, all of his cum spilled over your hands and face. After his panting subsided and his breathing became regular, you slowly leaned against him and removed his hands from his face.

"Hope you enjoy enough." You said gently. He said nothing but pulls you closer and kisses you.

"It seems you did."

||[🄲um]||

━●━━━━━━────────

     ⇆ㅤㅤ◁🄱ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ🄳▷ㅤㅤ↻

[goopyedgay]

I feel sentimental I'm sorry but–

You don't know how happy these stupid guys make me, I don't know why, simply seeing them causes me immense joy in any circumstance, in any medium, they make me smile at my worst moment.

It's funny because when I read Hell Park for the first time I completely ignored them, and my favorite character was Tweek (which is why he is the protagonist of my AU Coven Park), but for some reason when I read Hell Park again, their dynamic caught my attention and I loved them.

Gregory and Estella inspired me immensely, even daring to make my own AU just because of them, what for me was a way to avoid problems and harassment became something ambitious that I am currently working on and trying to give my all.

and not only that, they also inspired me to create my ocs and an equally ambitious story that I have in mind, in case anyone was wondering, these are the ocs that I mainly based on Gregory and Estella to create them lol

And all that thanks to two stupid characters from a canceled South Park AU, honestly, I don't know how I would be if I hadn't met them, it's impossible for me to imagine knowing that they have influenced my life from the end of 2021 until today, this was one of my first drawings 🥲

I know that the issue of the Gregstella ship is somewhat dense, although I don't classify it as "problematic" because I consider that it doesn't even reach that sick level that they want to label it so much. And I know that I am perhaps the most directly responsible for having popularized the ship, and I apologize for that, it was not my intention to attract weird people, because yes, I have seen that quite questionable people have come to like the ship, or at least less so on this side of the pond, but I refrain from interacting with them because I simply don't want to and I have seen very unpleasant things coming from those people.

I would be lying if I said that I no longer like hp gregstella, I think it is something inevitable, even knowing that it is wrong, it is something that I cannot help, but nevertheless, I no longer urge people to ship them, but I also do not harass those who they do it. I think people can do whatever they want as long as it doesn't cross the boundaries of what is considered healthy. So yeah, I still kinda like hp gregstella, but I doubt I'll make content of them in the future, maybe I never will (and I never actually did, other than edits), maybe I'll start drawing them again more frequently since the annoying comments stopped, but I will never make hp gregstella content, but if I do one day, at least you will see it coming i guess 🤧

To the point I no longer care what people think of me, nor do I care to be in the Hell Park fandom, but I am aware that a large part of the fandom likes my art and inevitably I am part of it, so it also makes me happy that people appreciate my drawings despite everything, I love you, especially to the gregstella shippers who follow me and who I talk to (who are mostly lesbians just like me, a little ironic lol) 😭💕

I just want to do what makes me happy, and if people are bothered by what makes me happy, you can just block me, no hard feelings. I will continue drawing my silly couple, because it is the closest thing I will experience to love, being aromantic, I like to write couples with interesting dynamics, but being part of one? No thank you 😦

I finish with this little animation I made of Gregory and Estella from Coven park, for whoever took the time to read this, thank u and gn

[sslytheringirl]

What about a heated make out sesh with are hot ass bf Tom Riddle! 🤧🥵

Yes that’s a good idea Tom is just ahhh one of my favorites.💚🥵

Tom was dying for you, he did not see you all day ,both of our schedules are full, we did not have any time to see each other at all.

I was in the library reading and studying with papers all around me trying to figure out this one problem.

“Fuck me.” I whine out.

“Yes please.” Tom said behind me.

“Tom I need you help with this problem.”

“What will you give me in return.” He says with a smirk.

“Help me first” , “I will give you something if you help me.”

“Gladly , what do you need help with.”

“Potions this one I just can’t get it.”

“Ok so you have to mix the purple with the green with some crushed leafs mix it together, till it is dark green.

“Thank you ,Tom I will give you something when I’m done ok.

“You better” , “doll or you will be punished.” He says with a smirk.

“Ok I say cutting the leafs ,then cut my thumb with the knife.

“That fucking hurts.”

“Give me your hand, doll.”

I give him my hand to look at it.

“That’s a very deep cut doll ,I have to wrap it up.”

Tom grabs my hand walking to his dorm and sits me on his bed, “Wait here.” I wait for him to come out , he comes out with a black bottle with a wrap.

“Let me see your hand doll, I know you don’t like it but I have to clean it.”

I give him my hand , close my eyes right knowing it’s going to hurt bad.

He put some the alcohol on my hand, “It hurts, Tom.

“I know doll , I’m almost done, I need to wrap it.”

He is done wrapping my hand, as it still stings.

He pushes me back on his bed, “I get my reward now.” He takes my hands pines them above my head, with one of his hands, he smashes his lips on mine, five minutes later he slides his tongue in my mouth.

“You taste perfect, baby like strawberry’s, your soft lips so swollen from me.”

He moves down to my neck, sucking hard on my neck leaving hickys everywhere, “Now everyone knows your mine.”💚🖤

[wannaeatramyeon]

mooooom! i got a request for youuu~ 💌

-young reader learned taekwondo from hansu, but never got to meet his son. so, she only knew taehoon from hansu's stories and cute photos of him aaand that's how she developed a crush on taehoon. years later, she finally meets him... but her "cute" image of him immediately shattered the moment he opened his mouth; chaos ensues 💀

this scenario has been on my mind for a while now and it makes me giggle to an unhealthy degree that i want an entire fic of it 😭 also if it wasn't obvious, i thirst for hansu content 🥺🫶 tysm in advance 🤧

p.s. i really REALLY love your fics and your writing aaaaaa 🫠 ik i already told you before and but im saying it again hehe hope you have a great day! ilyy~~ 💖💖

My dear lovely baby Rie! I saw this and thought yes, let's drop everything INCLUDING Tears of The Kingdom and write this.

But... I'm sorry, there really isn't much Hansu in this, it's very very Taehoon centric.

One of the best things about fandom is bringing people together and I'm so happy to have met you!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Strangers to... a Not-Crush

Follow up with Hansu and Taehoon here

You're pretty sure you're in love with this Taehoon.

The first time you heard his name was during your very first Taekwondo lessons, many many years ago

Schedules, circumstances, situtations; all the usual life happenings has stopped you both from actually meeting.

But Hansu waxes lyrical about his son. You must have heard for the hundredth time how he is a spinning prodigy, how he has surpassed Hansu at a similar age, how he will be one of the best. His name destined to be written in the history books.

As Hansu talks about his son with stars in his eyes, you can't help the shine rubbing off on you too.

.

.

"Y/N, this is Taehoon."

Your jaw drops. Sure, Hansu has shown you countless pictures. Compared to the real living thing though, the gap is so vast you might as well say he's the least photogenic person alive. That's really saying something, because Taehoon photographs well.

He's one of the prettiest boys you've ever seen.

With his lips and eyes and even his goddamn hair. Are those lashes even for real? And then you notice his stature and his muscles, his rock-solid chest and abs peeking through.

Maybe he's not pretty at all. He's fucking hot.

You jaw drops even further.

Why on earth hasn't Hansu ever shown you a full body picture, he could have at least prepared you. Like a cliche, you feel weak at the knees. You feel light-headed-

Then Taehoon opens his mouth and the illusion shatters. Splinters into a hundred million little pieces. With his next words, you've never felt more pissed off in your life.

"Keep looking pervert, and I'll pluck your eyes out,"

What the fuck is this guy's problem.

.

.

For once, the stars align, and you see each other constantly.

You curse the damn stars. You curse Hansu for passing your tutelage to Taehoon. Most of all, you curse Hansu for creating this.

The idea of Taehoon is much better than this... this fucking menace you have to see day in day out.

Taehoon makes you address him as Master. He hits you on the head for stepping out of line (you bite your tongue every goddamn time), he takes no prisoners during your spars together, makes you repeat exercises over and over until you're on all fours and trying not to throw up.

And infuriatingly, he touches you.

Little corrections with his hands, his elbows, his knees, his legs, his foot. "Your stance is shit," he tells you, "your technique is still off," as he taps the offending body parts, mere millimetres out of place. Your cheeks burn every time and your skin is on fire even hours later.

What's worse is your head swims every night with Taekwondo and Taehoon.

Lying in bed, all you can see is him. That antagonising smug smile on his lips. You want to wipe it off his stupidly handsome face.

See if he has any cutting words left when, not if, you beat him in a spar, and you gloat over him, straddling his hips, trapping him between your thighs and you can feel how aroused he is-

Oh.

Shit.

You hug your pillow tighter to your body.

This relevation is a fucking nightmare.

.

.

Taehoon reckons your skills are average at best. What he's most impressed with is your dedication and tenacity.

No matter how many times he kicks your ass, you still get back up for more. Regardless of all his nitpicking and corrections with your form, you take onboard his words and listen.

He hasn't missed that it's all through gritted teeth. Still.

He also hasn't missed you blushing and your breath catching in your throat when he touches you.

Nothing not out of necessity, all completely above board. But it's still funny. Messing with you.

Taehoon tells himself he is completely unaffected. People fawn over him all the time, you looking at him with hearts in your eyes is nothing new.

It's just amusing, that's all.

.

.

You don't know whether this is heaven or hell.

Taehoon piggybacks you all the way from the studio to the emergency room. You're so close you can almost taste him, see all his faint freckles, the vein in his temple from the exertion and concern.

All this proximity is doing nothing for your crush. Which you are determined to get over, by the way. Because this guy is a goddamn asshole and nothing else.

It was a silly accident, really. You went for an opening when there was none, causing Taehoon to mistime his kick. You collapsed like a sack of shit.

Worried hands check up on you even as his mouth runs.

"It's fine," you say, waving off his concern. When you tried to stand up, your ankle is in no mood to bear any weight.

You go down for a second time.

Taehoon's patience is unexpected. He waits with you until you are seen to.

Conversation is strained, and he doesn't talk much, just giving you wary glances every now and then.

But you fill the silence, telling him little anecdotes from your life and your day. Bridging the gap between Taekwondo and the little pieces that make up the rest of your life.

His lips quirk as you speak. The smiles aren't condescending.

Eventually, when the nurse tells you it's just a simple strain and will heal if you keep off it, Taehoon is the one that nods and asks follow up questions.

At the end of the day, after another piggyback this time to your home, you thank him for his time and he is surprised at your sincerity.

.

.

Taehoon doesn't miss you. Definitely not.

The only reason he is at your door with stew and kimchi is because his old man told him to check up on you.

You're not able to attend any lessons while you recover, and Hansu wanted to make sure you're ok. Not Taehoon. Taehoon could not care less. He also did not jump at the chance of seeing you again, so much so that even Hansu gives him a questioning look. Ridiculous.

Why is his palm sweaty? Must just be the heat. Taehoon wipes it on his jeans before knocking twice on your door.

"Come in," you call out, and Taehoon hasn't missed your voice. And he hasn't missed the sight of your face neither.

He doesn't greedily take in the colours of your bedroom, the pictures on your wall, the books on your shelf.

He doesn't memorise your handwriting when he walks past your desk, something that is so uniquely you, like a fingerprint.

And when you give him a shy smile and apologise for the mess, it doesn't affect him.

Nor when you take the proffered food and have a mouthful, Taehoon doesn't soften at this.

The ensuing silence is not comfortable. He doesn't want to stay longer. His fingers don't twitch in your presence, having grown used to casual touches with you.

.

.

This song and dance is continued for the next few weeks only because Taehoon is a good son, and an even better teacher.

He needs to check up on the welfare of his student.

And then finally, after too long, when you show up at the studio again, Taehoon's heart absolutely does not soar.