#and hell yes I'm leaving it on a cliffhanger

[allysunny]

Shadows to Stars | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: One night, your seemingly perfect life with your boyfriend Miguel crumbles before your very eyes. It is then you must make a decision that will change the course of your life forever - as well as the course of the life growing inside of you.

Words: 12k

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of death and abortion, pregnancy, Miguel is scary and a bitch. Spanish translations will be at the end. Do tell if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the super long oneshot I promised you all I would deliver! Since in both polls I made, the majority of y'all voted for one post, I'm posting this as one big drabble. Honestly, it kind of transformed as I was writing it, and I got carried away. Beware, Miguel is a monster in here, he is NOT a good person and I do not condone his actions in this work.

Also, quick aside, I'm using my own experience with toddlers and kids (namely my little sister) to shape some of the dialogue. Kids are very smart, and oftentimes we don't give them enough credit. I tried to keep this realistic!

The song mentioned is Querida by Juan Gabriel - I suggest listening to it!

Enjoy! :)

“This is such bullshit.” Was the first thought that crossed your mind. That’s not how gravity worked. The impossible stunt performed by the actor in the TV left you unimpressed, and you scolded yourself mentally for it. You sound exactly like him. Just enjoy the movie, will you?

You shake your head with a sigh, focusing on the screen in front of you. You’d been meaning to watch this one for a while, all your friends said it was simply the best of the saga just yet. “I can’t believe they’re making another one, just let the saga die!” You replied, but your best friend Miranda was quick to disagree. “How could they, after ending the last one in such a cliffhanger?” She was defending the movie as if her life depended on it. “Besides, Com Truise looks really hot in this one, he’s aging like fine wine”.

So here you were, trying to figure out how the hell Wethan Runt was gonna get himself out of this situation. This was the… Sixth? Seventh? Seventh Improbable Endeavor movie so far, and you wondered why they couldn’t just let the series die. It was simply too much at this point, a way to milk a famous franchise in order to earn money.

“Mommy?” A small, tremulous voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked at where it came from.

A small child looked at you from behind the living room door, his hand tightly clutching a teddy bear. Your son had just turned 4 and was the most precious thing the world had ever blessed you with. With soft brown curls and [e/c] eyes, he looked like a little cherubin, all chubby cheeks and dimpled smiles. You adored him.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, furrowing a brow. However, there was no need for a reply. You knew what the answer was already. “Another one?”

Gabriel nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes, and fear turning in his tummy.

“The same?”

He nodded again, the tears now rolling down his round cheeks. The sight of your pouting son broke your heart. For a few months now he had been plagued with the same nightmare repeatedly: A brightly coloured spider sinking its teeth onto him, proceeding to devour him whole right after. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, and unfortunately, it felt too familiar. Not to you, but perhaps to someone who once used to be close.

“Oh honey…” Your voice was soft, as it usually was with Gabriel. You knew nothing else when you were with him. “I’m so sorry… C’mere baby, do you want to sleep near mommy tonight?”

Gabriel shook his head “yes” softly, a small breath leaving his mouth. He was glad you’d asked him that. He didn’t want to look like a baby, not in front of his mom. Not when she told him he was her brave boy all the time. He had to be a brave boy for his mama.

“Mama…” He breathed out, tears pooling at his feet. “Mama I’m sorry…”

“Honey?” Now you were worried. He looked so scared; your precious baby looked so scared. “Honey, c’mere…”

“I can’t…” He whispered, shaking his little head. “Mama I had an accident… I’m sorry… I made the bed wet…”

Your heart officially broke.

Motherly instinct was stronger than you, and within a few seconds, you had picked Gabriel up, shushing him and running your fingers through his brown locks.

“It’s okay honey, it’s okay…” You cooed as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, hiding away from all the troubles, from all the monsters and creepy spiders that threatened to hurt him. His mama always made the monsters go away. You were his hero. “You’re such a brave boy, it’s okay… I’m not mad at you, alright? You’re so brave for me…”

Your hushed words were quick to soothe him. He stopped crying, occasionally sniffling and rubbing his eyes from the sleep.

You took him to the bathroom, quickly washed him and gave him a new pair of underwear. Gabriel knew how to use the toilet – potty training was never a problem because to him, the toilet meant he was a “grown up”. He was quick to tell you when he needed to use the bathroom, causing you to leave the diapers behind. Unfortunately, nightmares didn’t care about that.

He looked at you while you got rid of his wet sheets, throwing them in the washing machine, and his eyes were full of adoration while you prepared him his favourite chocolate milk.

Once he had finished it, you turned off the TV – Com Truise would have to wait – and took Gabriel to your room in your arms.

He made himself comfortable on your bed, teddy carefully placed by his side, and you followed suit after quickly brushing your teeth.

“I’m sorry mama…” He mumbled once again. “Maybe I’m not brave enough…”

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. It’s okay. You’re still my brave little boy. You’ll always be.” Bending over, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and he smiled, which made your heart melt. For all the sadness and hurt you’d gone through and suffered, Gabriel was the best thing that had happened to you. He was an amazing kid: curious, kind to a fault, and oh so cute. Of course, it didn’t help that he was like a mini-version of his father, but you’d learned to live with it.

After all, he wasn’t a little Miguel O’Hara. He was simply Gabriel, your sweet Gabriel who marvelled at thunderstorms and loved broccoli but hated tomatoes. Who liked to play in puddles and splash around at the beach, who giggled uncontrollably when you tickled his little tummy.

“Can you sing the song for me?” He asked, voice laced with sleep. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse your son in any way. You nodded and tucked his teddy closer and caressed his cheek.

“Of course, my love.”

You took a short breath and started singing.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Miguel had taught you this song. It was one of his favourites, and you used to sing it to him when he felt stressed or tired. His head on your chest, on your lap, on your neck, your hands running through his hair, his heart on your palm, yours on his. The original song was meant for a girl. Querida was a woman. But you’d adjusted it for him, and never had the courage to change it back.

It was a song of heartbreak, of longing and hurt.

How fitting.

“Querido No me ha sanado bien la herida Te extraño y lloro todavía Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Glancing at the little one, you chuckled to yourself. Gabriel fell asleep quite quickly, especially when you sang for him. This was his favourite song too, and you’d gotten used to singing it to him nearly every night before he went to sleep.

For a few minutes, you stared at your son. Soon enough, after he’d fallen into a deep slumber, you adjusted his rebellious curls and brought him close to you, his little hand instinctively coming up to wrap itself around your finger.

It’s impossible to describe the love you felt for Gabriel. You’d do anything for him, walk to the ends of the earth if it meant he would smile and look at you with his bright curious eyes. What was there not to love? You couldn’t figure that out. And you couldn’t shake away the memory of when you first asked yourself that question. Not when it used to play in your head every night, no matter how hard you tried to keep it from your thoughts.

The paper read “Test indicates the presence of hCG hormone, confirming pregnancy”.

Oh.

You were pregnant.

If the cheap pharmacy test wasn’t enough proof, now you were absolutely positive you were pregnant.

You. Pregnant.

A mother.

You were going to be a mother.

And Miguel was going to be a father.

Was it possible to die of happiness? You always felt like you were floating with Miguel, but this was different. The thought that you had a little human, a baby, a child, a mini-you growing inside of your uterus? It was too much. To say you were over the moon was an understatement.

That day, you cooked Miguel his favourite.

You got him his favourite wine, mentioning how you were “feeling too light-headed to drink”, but inviting him to do so anyways.

You wore the dress he loved so much, the one that, according to him, made you look like “a princesa”.

Before he arrived, you placed the paper sheet with the results inside an envelope. Taking the lip gloss shade he loved so much, you painted your lips and placed a soft kiss on top of the envelope, the red stain its only decoration.

And just as you hid it within your apron, the doorbell rang.

“Miggy!” You exclaimed, running towards him.

Miguel looked tired – eyebags ever so prominent, face tired and devoid of any emotion. But these features changed once he laid his eyes on you. The exhaustion almost as if evaporated from him, the tired look replaced by a warm smile.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, head coming to trail his lips over your collarbone, humming ever so slightly – if you didn’t know your boyfriend, you’d think he was silent.

“Amor…” He groaned, hands squeezing your waist, lips caressing your skin.

“Rough day?”

“Would sewing a bunch of kids’ mouths shut make me a bad person? Answer me honestly mi Cielo, I trust your good judgement…” Was his mumbled reply.

You laughed, skimming your hand through his hair, as the other rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“It wouldn’t be the most moral thing to do, no.”

“Mierda.”

Your laughter filled the room and it was healing. It lifted all his worried, carrying them to a place far, far from your soft touches and kind words. You were his safe space, his little secret. For all the technological advances he had access too, Miguel found the best remedy to be purely and simply you. And didn’t you look extra pretty today?

You were always breathtaking, but that dress… Surely you knew what his thoughts on that dress were. You had to be doing it on purpose.

So, he let you lead him to the shower, covering his body with sweet kisses and kneading the tense and sore muscles of his back and shoulders. He let you wash his hair, giggling as you played with it, turning his soapy curls into a mohawk. He let you cover his body with body milk, rambling on about “it makes his skin so soft and healthy”.

He loved you. How could he not? What was there not to love?

And you loved him back just as much.

The way Miguel smiled as he took bite after bite of your food. He refused to talk about his day, claiming it’d only make him angrier. He’d much rather hear about yours.

So, you did just that, telling him about the things you did, the places you went. The new supermarket that opened just down the street with fresh fruit, the old market where you got the meat he’s eating right now, etc.

You were always out and about, keeping yourself busy while he saved Nueva York, volunteering, working with children, helping elderly people, or perhaps, if you were feeling lazy and tired, maybe just lounging around with a book in your hand.

It was when Miguel offered to do the dishes that you realised it was now or never. Time to shoot your shot.

You waited patiently for him, leading them to the couch once the kitchen was sparkling once again, and sat him next to you on the couch.

“Miguel, there’s something I wanna show you…” Was how you started. Goodness, had you always been this nervous? Were your hands this clammy? Why weren’t any words coming out of your mouth? Your breath was quickening, and a million questions were running freely through your head.

You didn’t think this through, did you? What if he’s not happy? But that is impossible, right? You two spoke about this. Miguel wanted a baby. So did you. You knew of his past, knew of Gabriella. But you also knew he was healing. You saw it happen before your very eyes. First there were the small glances, the small comments about baby clothing, and then there were conversations of children, of family. And of course, there was the trying. In fact, Miguel was more than invested in trying for a baby. “Just give me one more,” He’d whisper in the intimacy of your bedroom, “Wanna make sure it takes.” And you were soft and giddy and in love and oh so pliant for him.

And yet, it could go wrong. So many things could go wrong.

“Mi vida, what’s wrong? You look worried…” Miguel furrowed his brow, hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the way he did when he wanted to see your face more clearly. His face had “worry” written all over it, and it’d be funny, if you yourself weren’t shaking with anxiety.

“Yes, I… I’m fine, just… Give me some time.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

Nothing would go wrong. Miguel loves you. Endlessly, and he’ll love your child just the same. You’re sure of it.

“I need to show you something.” You said more clearly, looking him in the eye. “I… I love you, Miguel. So, so much. Unimaginably so. I love you. I love everything about you.”

He smiled. A genuine smile, one saved for you and only you.

“I love you too, mi vida. Te amo con todo mi ser. Eres la luz de mi vida.”

Shit, it did things to you. Him speaking Spanish, that was. You’d been learning, just for him, and while you weren’t yet a professional, you’d picked on his endearing phrases quite early. In fact, those were the first you learned – you wanted to be able to understand the sweet nothings he whispered to you in the comfort of your home.

“I… I’m scared you won’t… At least not anymore, when I show you this…” You confessed with bated breath, shrugging your shoulders ever so slightly. Communicating your worries and fears with Miguel had never been an issue. He was very open, telling you whatever was on his mind with no hesitation. It had taken a while, but now he trusted you fully, and your relationship was based on trust and understanding.

“Mi vida…” He murmured, fingers slowly cupping your jaw. “Unless you ate the last empanada in the cafeteria, there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less…” It got a chuckle out of you, and a smile out of him. Good. It was all he ever wanted to see; you with a smile on your face.

“Well then…” The words were muffled by the ruffling of your apron.

You took out the envelope and sighed.

This was it.

It was now or never.

Fuck, you were going to puke. This was simply too much. You were so worried, so scared.

But before you could do anything, he had carefully taken the envelope in his hands and opened it, smiling at the lipstick stain.

Oh god. This was it.

He unfolded the paper.

There was no turning back now.

He read the words attentively, curious about what had gotten you so worked up. You observed his face, his calm demeanour, his brow furrowing, his lips parting, his eyes widening-

“What?”

It was nearly imperceptible, but it was there, and you heard it.

His eyes scanned over the words again.

And then again.

And then again.

And then again and again and again and again, until his fists clenched the paper, and he was turning away from you.

“Estás… Estás embarazada…?”

“Miggy…?” You tried getting a glimpse of his expression, but he refused to look at you again.

“Is this true…? You’re pregnant?” There was something in his voice, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Grief, perhaps? Anger? Surprise?

His knuckles turned white, and the paper sheet was quickly torn in two.

“M-Miguel?” Your eyes went to his knuckles and the paper. Oh no. This couldn’t be good. There’s no way this is good.

“You’re PREGNANT?” He turned to face you, his eyes a dark shade of red. His voice boomed and you flinched. It was an instinct, truly. The paper was left forgotten on the floor as he balled his fists in his lap, as if he was restricting himself.

“Aren’t you happy?” The words left your mouth as a mere whisper, all of the confidence and bravado from earlier completely gone. What the hell was going on with Miguel? He looked angry, feral, like… No, you did not want to think about it. Surely, he was just a bit surprised, right? That must be all. “Miggy? Aren’t you ha- “

“How did this happen?!” He growled, and you could do all but scoff. Was he actually serious? Did he not know how pregnancies happened? Did he not know how babies were made? Wasn’t he there when you two were actively trying to get you pregnant?

“Gee, Miguel, I don’t know, maybe it happened one of the times you pushed me up against the kitchen sink or the couch as soon as you got home, claiming you ‘needed me so badly’. Maybe it happened because we’ve been trying for a baby, because you said you were ready to start a family with me.” Was he being serious right now? It’s not like birth control was 100% effective – you had always warned him of that – and it’s not like he always used protection – something you both discussed as well. So how come he was asking ‘how it had happened?’. “We don’t always use protection, you know, these things happen- “

“How could you let this happen?!” Miguel stood up, his frame towering over you. And for once in your life, you felt something you’d never even imagined you’d fear when with Miguel – let alone because of him: fear.

“What? Me?” Your eyes widened, refusing to believe the words that he’d just uttered. “How is this my fault? Last time I checked, it took two people to make a baby, Miguel. And you wanted one. Holy – Miguel, what is wrong with you? We’ve been wanting a child for so long!” It wasn’t until the tears hit your palms that you realised you were crying. It hit you shortly after, Miguel made you cry. “Honey, please, just… Aren’t you happy?” You forced a smile through the tears, hoping to get him as excited as you were.

“Happy?!”

“Yeah!” Tear after tear escaped from your eyes, tracing paths down your face. You’d been so excited to find out you were going to be a mother. Fantasizing about holding your child, caressing their chubby cheeks, watching as you and Miguel doted over the tiny human that was both a mixture of him and you. And now those fantasies were shattered as Miguel paced back and forth in your living room, giving you a look that could kill you by itself. “I thought… I thought you wanted a family with me…! You said so Miggy, you told me you wanted to start a family…”

He all but scowled and threw a punch at a wall, cracking the surface around his fist. You flinched once again, shaking your head repeatedly. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t your Miggy, no. This wasn’t the man that whispered the sweetest words in your ear, who woke you up with gentle kisses, who placed gentle hands on your stomach and wondered about the family you would once start.

“Clearly, I changed my mind.” Your boyfriend – no, because there was no way this man was your boyfriend – rumbled, removing his hand from the wall, and inspecting it. “I… We… [Y/N], we can’t. Perdóname. I’m sorry. I know what I said, but… No. This is out of the question.”

“I don’t get it,” You shook your head. This whole thing seemed so farfetched – Miguel wanted a child. He had told you as much. Hell, you two had been trying for a baby. On purpose. How could he just tell you “No”? “Miguel, we wanted this. I’m pregnant because we wanted to start a family, because you told me you were ready and wouldn’t love anything more other than me holding your child, Miguel, I’m pregnant because we wanted this! And you need to take responsibility for your actions, you can’t just blame me for this when we were bo-“

“I don’t have to do anything. This is completely out of the question. I thought I wanted a child, well, turns out I don’t.” He was spitting the words so viciously, you could’ve easily mistaken them for poison. “Having a child now would complicate things too much.”

“Complicate?”

“Yes, complicate. Our lives shouldn’t be changing too drastically because of a baby. I’m sorry, [Y/N], but we can’t. We just… No. “ He didn’t even  have the decency of facing you. He was looking at the hole he’d punched into the wall, frowning.

“But Miguel…” You pleaded. You truly couldn’t understand what was happening. You could not understand why he wasn’t thrilled, excited, over the moon, spinning you around as he kissed your face and pledged his undying love to you. Undeterred, you take your hand in his and place it on your stomach, on the place your child would live for a few months before you had the joy of holding him (or her) in your arms. A smile, albeit a small one, graced your features once again. “We’ve been… We’ve been wishing for this…”

Miguel took a good look at you. He glanced up and down, taking your figure in. Your red eyes, your runny nose, your puffy lips. The tears, the hurt in your gaze. All because of him. He was hurting you. You truly wanted this, didn’t you? And didn’t he want the same? Hadn’t he told you time and time again how much he wanted to start a family with you? Weren’t you trying? Wasn’t he finally healing?

So why was it that the only thing he felt for the growing foetus inside of you was disdain?

He removed his hand from yours and shook his head.

“Get rid of it.”

Your jaw dropped.

What?

“Miguel? Honey, I…”

“Get. Rid of it.” He spat, eyes glowing bright red. “Or I will.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly parted, heart turning and churning and burning and hurting oh so much. How could he? His child, his own child… How could he say such things? How could he be so merciless? How could he want to… to kill the child you’d loved so unconditionally, even if for the past few hours?

It was horrifying. There was no word for it, it was truly horrifying, the way your Miguel was treating this matter. You’d looked at him with tears in your eyes, hoping that something, anything would leave your lips. But he’d opened a portal and left for HQ, leaving you alone in the middle of your living room.

So, you did the only rational thing.

You ran.

Jessica had helped you, along with Peter B. Parker.

Both were parents, so not only did they understand the way you felt towards your unborn baby, but also encourage you in your decision to leave Miguel. It broke Peter’s heart to find out the man that took care of the Spider Society had threatened to hurt his child and pregnant wife in the way.

But much to his sadness, he would have to act as if everything was fine and dandy, as if this man hadn’t threatened to kill a foetus, as if he wasn’t a monster. Peter would have to keep on interacting with him normally, in order not to raise suspicion. And so would Jess.

So, they did.

All traces of your existence had been removed from your shared apartment. Clothes, shoes, blankets. Anything that he could use to get the faintest trace of where you were was brought along with you, only his things and his things alone left behind.

It broke your heart to do it, but you had no choice. It was him or your unborn child, and although you’d known of your pregnancy for only a few hours, you were willing to do anything to assure its safety already.

You laid low for a while. Found a nice apartment where you could start over and build a life for yourself and your little one. Peter and Jess couldn’t keep you from going outside, so instead of trapping you, they helped disguise you. Both your appearance and scent changed every time you left the safety of your new home, with Jessica’s motherly instinct helping you find safety in new wigs and robes.

And so, your pregnancy went smoothly.

But it’s not to say it was easy – far from it.

Watching a baby grow inside of you all by yourself was terrifying. Not only was it terrifying, but it was also heartbreaking. Especially when the father of said baby had threatened you and him. It was even worse when you heard from Jessica that he was actively looking for you, coaxing every Spider in the Spider-Society to find you and destroy whatever was growing in your womb. How could he be so cruel? The possibility of someone killing your child just like that was frightening, but you managed to keep your fears aside for the well-being of your baby.

You could count with your fingers the peaceful nights you spent without a newborn toddler screaming and crying for your attention. For four whole years you were both mother and father, nursing and singing your baby to sleep whenever he was scared, kissing his wounds better, taking him to school, helping him talk and walk, watching him grow, looking over him the best you could.

There was no helping hand, no strong arms to hold your stomach during the day to ease your back pains, no soft rubs, and kisses on top of your belly at night, no proud displays of affection. When you gave birth to Gabriel, although surrounded by Peter and Jessica, there was no loving boyfriend or partner by your side, kissing your tears away, asking you to push, telling you you were “almost there”, holding your child in his arms and crying tears of joy, telling you you were oh so beautiful, to tell you that you were marvellous and miraculous and the most gorgeous woman alive.

While your heart could burst from the happiness of holding your son in your arms for the first time, it was also breaking at the realisation that, even if you had friends, there would be a major gap in your life that would scar you and your baby forever.

And there of course the questions. Gabriel was reaching his curious phase, and one time he had come home, asking why he did not have a daddy like his friends. That day you’d tried explaining it to him. You told him his father’s actions did not make you feel safe, and so you had to make the tough decision to protect the both of you and run away. You assured him that no matter what, you would love him unconditionally, that you were still a family, even if an unconventional one.

His reply was “Thank you mama, but I want a real daddy like my friends have!”

Tears streamed down your face until you fell asleep.

Gabriel was right. Even if he did not mean anything mean by it, even if his reply was something out of a clueless 3-year-old boy’s mouth and you shouldn’t take it to heart because he didn’t quite grasp the reality of your situation… It was still true. He needed a father, his father. You could try and try and try all you wanted, but he needed a father figure in his life, a role you’d never be able to fill.

The next day, you called Jessica and cried on her shoulders for a few hours while Gabriel was in school. She made up some stupid lie in order to be with you for the whole day, reminding you that children often said things they did not mean. Gabriel was a child; and children were way too straightforward, and it was not his intention to hurt you – wanting a father was a completely normal thing and you shouldn’t blame yourself for it.

But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

At first, the life you shared with Gabriel was terrifying. What if Jessica said the wrong thing, or Peter made a mistake? Thankfully, they behaved remarkably well, always prioritizing your safety and well-being over their duties to Miguel. As time went by, more people were in on your little secret. And you couldn’t help but worry. What if Hobie decided to “stick it to the man” and inform Miguel of his son? What if Pav thought “the power of love” could fix everything? What if Gwen and Miles tried to talk some sense into his head?

But luckily for you, they were all as interested at keeping Gabriel under wraps as you were. And the reason it was so easy for you to keep Gabriel away from his father was also because of Lyla. She’d witnessed the whole exchange of course, being an artificial intelligent program meant that she was everywhere Miguel habited – and that meant his home. So, she too was in on your plan, keeping everything away from Miguel. Every visit from the Spider-People, every time Gwen or Miles babysat your kid, every time something remotely urgent happened, Lyla was there to cover your tracks, and everyone else’s.

You also suspected everyone else in HQ helped, refusing to let Miguel murder an innocent child, or even help him with it. You were grateful.

Miguel was completely in the dark, he had been for 4 whole years, and you were happy it was like this.

Your son got to grow up in peace, and you got to watch him. Or so you thought.

“Honey, have you washed your teeth?” You asked as your son made his way out of the bathroom. Before he could answer, you spotted the stain of toothpaste on his chin, and bent over to quickly wash it. “There. Dashing.”

Gabriel smiled a toothy grin at you. “I’m wearing my Snoopy PJs!”

“Well, you’ll always be dashing to me. Snoopy PJs or any other kind of PJs.” You poke his tummy softly and he bends over, as ticklish as always. Before you can open your arms and embrace him, your ringtone rings through the room. You wink at Gabriel and take your phone into your hands, looking at the name on the screen.

“Oh honey, it’s auntie Jess. Give me a few minutes and I’ll tuck you in, is that okay?”

“I wanna speak to auntie Jess!” He exclaimed excitedly, to which you nodded, before picking up.

“Hey Jess! What’s up?”

“He found you.” Was all you heard on the other line before you felt your stomach fall.

What?

You couldn’t make out her words at first, but slowly, everything around you came to your consciousness again.

“Take him and go. [Y/N], can you hear me? You have to leave. I’m so sorry, we don’t know how he found out, but you need to take him and leave, now.” Jessica repeated these words urgently like a chant, and yet, all you could do was stare at Gabriel, his big eyes round and bright, his head titled to the side as he often did when confused, the little triangle in his brow all Miguel O’Hara.

You couldn’t move. Miguel had found out.

Shit.

And then someone knocked on your door. Loudly. Repeatedly. The sound echoed and rang in your ears, and it was Gabriel who brought you back to your senses by hugging your leg.

“Mama?” He inquired, looking at the door.

“Stay here. You hear me? Stay here, do mama a favour and stay here. Can you do that?”

Gabriel gave you a quick salute, a smile playing in his lips. He probably thought this was some silly game in which he acted like a big boy and his mama high-fived him and made him some chocolate milk as a reward. But unfortunately for you, there was nothing silly about this.

Your feet slowly dragged themselves to the front door, and you mustered all of the strength you had to open it.

With a deep breath, you turned the knob and pushed it open, revealing no one other than the one you feared the most.

Miguel.

You try to block the entire door with your figure, but Miguel is tall. Incredibly so. And while it used to make you squirm and gush and blush, it now fills you with a sense of dread you cannot shake away.

He takes a step forward and you speak, voice sounding braver than you were feeling.

“Leave.”

“[Y/N].”

“Miguel, I’m warning you, leave.”

He grumbled something under his breath and took another step, looking directly under him – at you. You used to love when he did it. It made you feel safe, protected, cherished. Now all you want is for him to back off.

“I do not want to force you. Let me come in, or I’ll have to. Please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” The worst thing about Miguel was that when it came to you, he was always genuine. He never lied to you. And that did not change now. He looked almost… Scared. There was a mix of anger and sadness and… was that betrayal? In his eyes?

Nevertheless, it made you vulnerable. Such a hurtful expression from the one you once loved… You couldn’t lie and say it did not make your heart twist a few times.

“He threatened to kill your child. His child, too.” You told yourself, shaking all those soft feelings away. No use being weak, not when you wanted to protect your son.

Still, he looked genuine when he said he did not want to hurt you. And it’s not like you can take him on your own, the man is literally 6’9, built like a Greek god, and Spiderman. You wouldn’t stand a chance, and your son needs to be protected. So, you slowly back away from the door, keeping your front to Miguel and your back to Gabriel.

You take a few steps back and are about to ask him what he wants, when a small voice interrupts you.

“Mama? Who is this?” Your son, your sweet, caring, clueless son asked, his neck craning all the way up to get a good look at Miguel.

Gabriel was a big fan of Spiderman – much to your chagrin – so the thought that maybe Miguel was wearing his suit terrified you. The last thing you wanted was for your son to idolize the man who threatened to kill him while he was nothing more than just a foetus. You quickly turned, taking in Miguel fully.

He was clad in casual clothes, a white shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He was dressed normally, thank God.

Miguel’s eyes widened at the tiny voice, and he looked at the child before him.

His eyes widened.

It all clicked in his head.

His eyes darted from you to him, from him to you, over and over and over and over again. He seemed to be making the connection in his head. Soft brown curls, furrowed brow, tiny nose that resembled yours and bright eyes that belonged to none other than the woman he loved.

This was his son.

“Mama?” He asked once again, tiny hands grasping at the loose sweatpants you usually wore around the house. Tiny fists curled around the fabric as he hid behind you.

You stared, wide-eyed at Miguel. You were silently begging for him not to cause a scene, not here, not in front of your baby, most certainly not at all.

“Please…” You whisper, nudging your head towards the little guy by your feet.

After a few seconds of dead silence and a stare off, Miguel hung his head low and nodded. You sighed in relief.

“Honey, time for bed. Mommy’s gonna tuck you in, alright?” Gabriel nodded and clung to you as you picked him up securely in your arms. Tucking his little hair in the crook of your neck, you slowly took his scent in. Citrus shampoo, the lavender fabric conditioner you knew he liked, he smelled like your darling song through and through, untainted by the evil and darkness of the world, untainted by the hands and knowledge of his father.

Once he was all tucked in, teddy loyally by his side, Gabriel reached out to hold your hand in his tiny hand.

“Mama?” He probed quietly, drowsy eyes twinkling with the gentle glow his dinosaur lampshade.

“Yes, honey?” He was about to ask about the mysterious man in your living room, you were sure of it. You just weren’t quite sure what you were going to tell him yet. The truth? He couldn’t know. At least not now. Not when Miguel was just a few rooms away, waiting patiently for you. Not when you had no idea if he was still violent.

“Who is that man?” Gosh, he looked so much like his father. The furrowed brow, the squinted eyes, and pouty lips. When he was born, you huffed and puffed to Peter, saying how unfair it was that your son had inherited Miguel’s looks, even though you were the one breaking your back to carry him – and then later, take care of him.

“He’s… He’s an old friend.” Technically not a lie. Miguel had been your friend once.

“Is he the one in the pictures that make you cry?”

Oh.

What?

Noticing your confused expression, Gabriel spoke again, shrugging.

“Sometimes you cry in the living room when you look at pictures… Is he the one in them?”

Were children supposed to be this curious? Or perceptive?

How come he had picked up on you crying? It was true, sometimes your hands instinctively reached out to the old photo albums you kept on the top shelf of your living room wall cabinet, far from his reach.

There was no need to lie to your son – not when he was so smart and cared so much, not when he was so perceptive.

“Yeah, baby.” You sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He is.”

“Why do you cry? Did he do something to make you sad?” The worry in his eyes was inevitable. If the situation weren’t so scary, you’d laugh. Your sweet child, always so worried about you.

“Yeah, he did. He made mommy very sad, that’s why she cries.”

“Did you like him?”

Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and you fought them back. “Be strong”, you thought. You always played the part of the strong caretaker, the fearless mother who protected him against the dangers of the world – but right now, with Miguel waiting outside, you weren’t sure you were strong enough anymore.

“Yes, pumpkin. Very much. Very, very much.” You removed your hand from his hair and moved it to his round, chubby cheek. “Mommy loved her friend a lot. And I was very sad when he hurt me. Incredibly so.”

“Do you miss him?”

The question hung in the air.

Miguel was still asleep.

Today was one of those days he had decided to remain home, take a break from all the stressing Spiderman stuff and just relax.

He looked so handsome like this, lips slightly parted to breathe in and out, cheek smushed against his pillow, legs entwined with yours, arm lazily thrown across your waist. You loved him like this, before the burdens and responsibilities of the suit dawned upon him, before he was a superhero and was simply Miggy.

You’d been tenderly running a hand through his curls, enjoying the view before you. Such a handsome man, such a kind soul. Sure, he was rough with everyone else, but with you? Away from the prying eyes and annoying questions? Away from the screens and all of the Spider Society duties?

He was plush. Soft, sweet, mellow, delicate.

You were whipped for this man, truly.

He stirred awake next to you, grumbling something in Spanish you couldn’t quite hear, and shuffled closer, lips quick to latch onto the column of your neck.

“Buenos dias hermosa…” He murmured against your skin, voice groggy and deep, earning the sweetest sigh from you. His grip on your waist tightened and you turned to him, smiling. He was such a vision.

“Morning, handsome.” You smiled, tugging on his curls to tilt his head towards you. He chuckled and kissed you tenderly, as if you were a figment of a dream he hadn’t yet abandoned and could disappear at any time.

You decided to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, pressing yourself against him to kiss him harder, obtaining the most delicious moan from your boyfriend. He pulled you closer by your waist, and with a quick movement, was on top of you, arms and hands caging you beneath his figure.

“Felling cheeky, aren’t we, mi vida?”

“I’m just kissing you Miguel, nothing cheeky about that.” You were quick to defend yourself, giving him a smug look.

He lowered himself, ghosting his lips over yours, almost as if on the brink of promising the entire world to you. Instead of doing that, he laid down, hair barely grazing your breasts as he placed soft kisses on your stomach.

You knew this look.

For a while now, the conversations about children and family had become more frequent. Miguel would catch you staring at baby clothes at the mall, or interacting with toddlers who looked and waved at you, and his heart melted. You had mentioned wanting a family before but were waiting on his signal. You knew Miguel had gone through something horrible – losing the family the way he did… You couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt.

So, you waited.

And lately, he seemed to be on the same page.

Last week, when you two had gone to the mall, he’d found you staring at a baby blue stroller, and the expecting couple examining it. You sighed, hands slowly trailing up to your stomach. Someday you hoped that would be you.

And it was then Miguel realised that he would want nothing more than to see you pregnant with his child, round and soft and plush and his, for the whole world to see.

He could picture it, you sitting in your garden, sunbathing and applying lotions on your baby bump, and him, by your side, kissing your forehead and placing his hand on your stomach to feel his child kick.

You, waddling over to him when your cravings got the better of you, begging him to get you some pickles and strawberry jam, promising nothing in this world you make you happier or satisfy you more – even if the combination did seem disgusting. ~

You, sitting down on a big chair, breasts exposed as you gently nursed your child. Your baby would have its tiny, miniscule hand on your chest as he drank your milk, and Miguel would be watching from the doorway as you fed your son, before placing him to sleep.

He could see himself too.

Playing with his child in the park, teaching his son how to play football, helping his daughter score goals, lifting his child over his head once they won their first game, reading them bedtime stories and saying “Don’t tell your mom” whenever they got into trouble.

It was all so very vivid.

“Miguel?”

He could picture it all, reach before him and grasp it.

“Honey?”

How pretty you would look, all swollen with his child.

“Earth to Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he sighed, kissing your stomach.

“Mi vida, I think…” He looked up at you, fondness and love nearly spilling from his gorgeous brown eyes and held your hand in his. “I think… How would you feel about starting a family with me?”

There. It was out. He’d said it.

And although he knew what your answer would be, his heart still flipped when your eyes turned into crescents, and your lips curled into a gorgeous smile.

“A family? With me? Really?” You sounded so fucking happy; it made his heart swell. Was it possible to love someone as much as he loved you?

“Yeah,” Miguel replied, and pressed his hand against your stomach. He could almost feel it. Picture your baby bump, feel the soft kicking of your child against your stomach, a silent reminder that it was alive and breathing and waiting to meet you. “A family. You and I and our child… What do you say?”

You giggle – you giggle! And por Dios if it isn’t the most gorgeous sound he has ever had the blessing of hearing. If anyone asked what Miguel’s favourite type of music was, he’d probably say it was the sound of your laughter. Either that, or the pretty mewls you make for him when it’s late and he’s needy and you’re oh so pliant.

“I say it’s perfect!” Hands fly to his hair, and suddenly he’s being pulled towards you, lips hungrily crashing onto his. You kissed him with everything you had. All of the love you felt for him, the love you felt for the family that was yet to come, the joy, the laughter, you tried expressing it all through this kiss.

And he smiled because nothing would ever make him as happy as you do. Nothing would ever get him to smile as much as you do. Nothing would ever complete his life the way you did, and he was so, so grateful for that. He kissed you back, hands carefully placing themselves on your hips to steady you, yours gripping his jaw to bring him closer.

When you parted away from air, he looked at you through lidded eyes, a very familiar form of desire dancing in the brown of his irises. You smiled sheepishly and watched him shrug his shoulders.

“Well, I guess… Since we’re on the topic of baby making…” He whispered near your ear, relishing in the full body shiver it elicited from you.

“Now who’s the cheeky one?” You faced him, brow comically raised at him.

You were so cute; Miguel could just eat you up.

And there was no one to stop him.

“Shh, hermosa, don’t give me that.” Barely a whisper, and yet it made heat pool in your lower belly, and your face warm upr. “I’m just saying, we should start practicing.”

With one swift movement, he was between your legs and your laughter filled the room.

Everything seemed right in the world.

Not at all. Not anymore.

“No, I don’t.” You absentmindedly ran your finger through Gabriel’s hair, “Not anymore. Right now, I have you, and you’re all I need.”

“Do you want me to draw a picture for you? I can draw a giraffe because I know you like them, and then you’ll smile and be happy.” This got a chuckle out of you. Always trying to cheer you up, this one, no matter what.

“Mommy would love it if you drew her a picture of a giraffe. It’d make me super happy.”

“Okay then! I’m gonna do it tomorrow, and I’m gonna use the crayons Mrs. Camille gave me, so it will look extra special –“ Before your son could continue, you smiled and ran an index finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose, a small gesture between the two of you, one that had a bazillion meanings. But right now it meant something around “Time for bed”.

Gabriel looked up sheepishly, shrugging.

“Can you sing for me?”

You felt slightly self-conscious about singing to him, especially since Miguel was standing right in the other room, and you used to sing this song to him.

“Let him hear”, you thought. He meant nothing to you anymore. This song was no longer his.

The song came to you naturally as you stroked Gabriel’s curls and watched his cheeks huff and puff, his slow breathing reminding you that he was here, safe and sound.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

All it took was one single stanza and he was already fast asleep. You chuckled to yourself and kissed the top of his forehead. He looked so peaceful; you took a mental picture of this moment.

Because perhaps, it’d be the last one you’d have.

You took a deep breath and stood up, not wanting to delay what was to come any more. Miguel was standing in your living room. You couldn’t hide from him forever, and you weren’t going to.

Closing Gabriel’s door, you decided to once and for all, face the man who had broken your heart four years ago.

The fact that he spoke to you first didn’t surprise you – Miguel had always been straightforward. It was what he said that caught you off guard.

“Was that…?” He asked, clearly referring to the song.

Stay strong. Don’t waver. You have to be strong for your family.

“Yes. Yes, it was Querida.” Your voice sounded certain, confident. You weren’t feeling very confident, but the taste it left on your tongue was quite nice. It made you feel more and want more. A placebo, maybe, but right now, you took all the help you could get.

Miguel chuckled dryly, running a hand through his hair.

“Wow. I haven’t heard that song in… What? Four? Maybe five years?” How dare he act like everything was normal? Like you had simply forgotten to sing it for him, like instead of Querida, you’d started singing Para Siempre from Doreen Montalvo. He seemed too at ease.

“Yes, well. How sad.”

He stared at you, unsure of what to say. And was that regret on his face? Regret? Fear? You couldn’t tell. And it’s not like it mattered – Miguel had to leave. That much was final.

“And… And, well…” He stammered, eyes darting behind you, to the closed door of your son’s room. “He…”

“He’s yours.” You cut him off coldly. Why was he dancing around the subject? Miguel looked at you and swallowed harshly, scratching the back of his neck. You wouldn’t let him be meek and weak, you couldn’t. He had no right to. “What? Wasn’t that what you were going to ask?”

Miguel straightened himself, regaining some of the composure he’d lost earlier.

“I see.” He nodded and nudged his head towards your kitchen – that’s when you saw it.

“I did your dishes.”

Your brow furrows and your eyes widen all at once.

Your dishes?

“You were tucking, um, our, well, your, um… The kid. You were tucking him in, and I thought maybe I could be of help.” He looked so earnest it almost hurt you. Ever the gentleman, your Miggy. When you were together, no matter how late he got home, no matter how tired he was, Miguel still made time to help around the house. Cleaning, cooking, doing whatever it took to make sure you had no extra burdens.

But right now?

You didn’t care if he was Spiderman, you didn’t care if he was nearly 7 feet tall and wide and strong enough to snap you in two – you wanted to punch him in the face. Oh, so badly.

The anger took over you and you scoffed at him.

“Oh! You wanted to help, huh?” You leaned against the couch and raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I see. Well, thank you for the help, Miguel. Unfortunately for you, I don’t need you to take care of household chores for me. Washing a few plates isn’t going to change anything.”

He winced at your words. Good.

“I just thought –“

“Well, you thought wrong.” You interrupt him once again. This conversation is not going to be about him. He’s not the victim, he’s not the vulnerable one. He doesn’t get to be vulnerable.

“[Y/N], we need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. You need to leave, and I need to get some sleep.”

“No, please, we need to talk. We have to.” He sounded desperate. Goodness, you loved it. His eyes were filled with something you’d never seen before. The bags under them reveal he must not have been getting a lot of sleep, and he kept pinching the bridge of his nose as if in exhaustion. You weren’t naïve – not anymore. You didn’t feel bad for him per se.

But seeing the man who once seemed to carry the weight of the world in his shoulders, who took care of an entire city and never even wavered, look so defeated… Well. It did pull at your heart strings a little bit. Maybe that’s why you nodded and gestured over to your couches, sitting down in one of them and waiting for Miguel to do the same.

Maybe that’s why you watched as Miguel sat on the couch facing the TV and waited for him to speak.

“[Y/N], I… Mierda… No sé por donde empezar…” He cursed under his breath, head hanging low.

“I don’t have all night, Miguel.”

Oh, how he missed hearing his name spill from your lips. But now, instead of filled with love and warmth, you spit the words almost like they are poisonous, like you can’t hold them on your tongue for more than two seconds without them corrupting you.

He supposed he did that to you.

“I suppose I should start by apologizing…” Miguel finally looked at you, brown eyes staring into yours. You’d have done anything for those eyes once upon a time. Not anymore. “[Y/N], that night, all those months ago… I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am…”

So he was here to apologize? Was that it? Did you even want to hear his apology? Were you going to forgive him?

“When I told you those things, when I told you to…” He averted his gaze for a few seconds, probably too ashamed to look at you as he remembered telling you to kill your child. And you felt good that he was ashamed. He deserved to be. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was scared. Scared it would happen again, what happened to my sweet Gabriella… I lashed out on you, and I scared you. I’m so sorry.”

You nodded once, and upon hearing no reply from you, he continued.

“I… I really have no excuse other than that. Seeing Gabriella disappear right before my eyes, it… Mierda, it really scared me. So, when I read that test, when I saw you were pregnant, I was afraid it would happen again.”

Miguel found you staring at him, unimpressed, unmoved. Did his words mean nothing? Had he reached you?

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Is that why you came here? To apologize?” You questioned him, brow quirked.

“Well, yeah. You deserve an apology mi vi- [Y/N]. What I did to you was inexcusable. And yet, I hope that someday you manage to find it within your heart to forgive me. You know I’ve never lied to you, and I’m still telling you the truth when I say I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m ashamed of how I behaved, I was a monster, and you didn’t deserve that.”

For some unknown reason, his words made you weak, if only for a few seconds. You saw in front of you, your Miguel, your sweet, sweet Miggy who brought you breakfast in bed, who kissed your period cramps away, who carried you when you were too tired to walk, who treated you like you were God’s gift to green earth. You saw him scared and vulnerable and hurt, and all you wanted to do was take him in your arms and hold him tightly until all of the pain was nothing but a distant memory.

But you also couldn’t ignore the other Miguel, the Miguel who had jumped and punched a wall and yelled at you, demanding you to get rid of your baby, and forcing others to do it. No matter how much you had once loved him, Gabriel was your life now, and you couldn’t allow yourself to feel soft over someone who would do something so inhuman as threaten an unborn child.

“Thank you for the apology.” You told him. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have things to do. Now, please leave.”

He seemed confused by that. Leave?

“Wait – what?”

Standing up, you gently adjusted the couch you were sitting on, and shrugged at him.

“Yes. I have heard your apology, and now I want you to leave.”

“Well, what is your response?”

“To what?”

“To the apology.”

“I’m not accepting it.”

“What?”

What was he expecting? You to run into his arms with tears of joy, kissing him until he was dizzy and proclaiming his love for him? Was that it?

“You heard me,” You crossed your arms, “I’m not accepting your apology.”

“But – I thought – “

“You thought what, exactly?” Now your words were pure venom, meant to poison his skin and hurt his heart. You wanted him to feel a least a fraction of the hurt and pain he caused you, of the heartbreak he submitted you to. “That you could just come in here after I actively ran from you, after I tried to hide, and you would solve everything by washing my dishes and giving me a half-assed apology?”

“[Y/N], I told you what happened, I’m sorry, I was scared – “

“How do you think I felt, huh?” You felt the rage in the back of your throat. It hurt. It felt nice to let your anger out, to direct it at him, the source of your ache. “How do you think I felt when you threatened my baby? Were you also scared when you sent your Spider-People after my child and I?”

“What?” Miguel looked at you, dropping his hands to his sides.

“That’s right. I’m not stupid, Miguel, I know what you did. You asked for them to search for me, and to kill my son. You think all of that is washed away simply by apologising?”

“I was afraid you’d disappear on me too!” He pleaded, hands gesturing to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what else to say, how else to show you how heartbroken I am…”

“Well then, perhaps you should’ve thought about all that before you decided to have a child with me, Miguel. You don’t get to do this – You don’t get to picture a future with me, with our family, you don’t get to tell me you’re ready only to then threaten us. You should’ve voiced those concerns instead of taking it out on me. You got me pregnant and didn’t even deal with the consequences of your actions!” You threw your hands in the air, desperately trying to make him see your side. Could he not understand the gravity of the situation?

“You should’ve told me. We would’ve worked something out, Miguel, I knew we would’ve.” Your vision becomes blurry – all these emotions aren’t really helping your “Don’t waver” plan, but at this point you just need to vent your frustrations. “But what you did? It felt like betrayal. We were trying for a baby, and when I finally got pregnant, you threatened us. I know what happened to you in the past, and I can’t imagine how it must’ve hurt, but it is no excuse for what you did to me.”

For a while, the both of you were silent. There was nothing else to say.

“What’s his name?” He asked silently, looking at Gabriel’s door.

You hesitated, but figured telling him what you had named your child probably didn’t hurt.

“Gabriel. His name is Gabriel.”

His eyes twinkled in acknowledgment. You had wanted to name your son anything that had nothing to do with his father, but you couldn’t. You considered that your last act of kindness towards Miguel.

“After my brother?”

“Who else?” You looked away.

“He… He’s beautiful. He looks…”

“Like you, I know.” You’d made your peace with it, sure, but sometimes it still stung that your child looked nothing like you, you who carried him and took care of him and fed him and rocked him to sleep. Instead, he was a near perfect copy of his father, opting to act like you, rather than look like you.

“How is he?” Miguel felt scared to ask. He wasn’t sure if you were going to tell him anything – and why should you?

“He’s… He’s the greatest kid ever. He’s smart and kind, and so considerate. He’s his own little man, even though he’s only four years old…” A smile spread across your lips, as you always did when talking about your son. He was your pride and joy, after all.

“Will I…” Miguel hesitated. You know what’s coming. “Will I get to meet him?”

“No. Not if I can help him.”

Miguel’s lips formed a tight line.

“[Y/N], he’s my son too –“

“No, he’s not. You might be related by blood, but that doesn’t make him your son, and it most certainly doesn’t make you his father. You lost that right when you threatened to kill him, and sent your goons to do it.” Your voice was getting louder, so you tried to lower it. The last thing you wanted was to wake Gabriel up.

“You can’t do this. I have a right to see him.” Miguel’s voice was also getting louder. Not only that, but he had also gotten up, towering over you. So much for weakness and desperation, this Miguel looked the same as the one you left four years ago.

“You don’t, that’s the thing. I don’t trust you around my son. I’ve spent the past four years trying to protect him from you, and I’m not going to stop now.” As if by instinct, you placed yourself right in front of him, blocking his passage to Gabriel’s room. Could he snap you in half and get to him by himself? Yeah. Were you going to let that stop you? No.

“What did you tell him? What lies did you tell our son?” Was it just you, or were his eyes turning red?

“My son. And I told him the truth, that his father wasn’t making me feel safe, so I had to run in order to protect him.”

Miguel visibly flinched at those words. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe, never.

“I understand I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be a part of his life.” His expression changed to something darker – you weren’t sure how long you had until he snapped. A mistake? How dare he downplay his actions like this?

“That is precisely what it means. I want you away from my son.”

“He needs a father. What if – what if he inherits my abilities, huh? What are you going to do then?”

That’s when you snapped.

“He needs ME!” Hot tears streamed down your face, and you did not try to stop them. “Do you understand? Me. I am his mother. I cared for him for the 9 months he was inside of me, scared shitless because I didn’t know what you might do if you found us. I took care of him for 4 whole years. I was the one who fed him, I was the one who changed his diapers, I was the one rocked him to sleep when he cried and I’d been awake for hours, I was the one who gave up everything and started from scratch because of him! And what did you do? You whispered pretty things in my ear and got me pregnant, and then got scared and proceeded to tell me to kill my child! That’s not something a father does!” The words kept spilling from your lips and there was no way to stop them. You could finally speak freely, get him to understand the pain he put you through.

“If my son happens to inherit your abilities, then I will take care of it. Just like I’ve been doing all these years, I will take care of it. You’ve done nothing for us, and we don’t need you. I don’t need you Miguel, I don’t love you anymore. My priorities in life have changed, and now they lie in the safety and well-being of my son. So, for once in your life, stop being so fucking stubborn and LEAVE!”

“Mama?”

Your heart fell as soon as you heard Gabriel’s scared voice.

Shit.

You turned to him, only to be meet with a teary-eyed child, holding onto his teddy bear way too tightly.

“Honey, I… I’m sorry… Did I wake you up?” Your voice was automatically gentler, lower, something above a whisper, something reserved for him and him alone. Right now, you didn’t care that Miguel was right there, angry, and tall, all you cared about was your son, who looked so, so scared it nearly killed you.

“I heard you yelling…” He murmured, running towards you and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. His tears fell on your skin and you allowed yourself to cry with him, clutching him close to you, afraid he’d disappear right before your eyes because of your actions.

“I’m so sorry…” You mumbled into his hair, hoping all the love and sincerity you felt right now could be translated into words. “Honey, I’m so sorry, mommy got angry and started yelling… I promise it won’t happen again… I’m so, so sorry…”

You felt Gabriel nod, and pressed your lips to his head, a thousand promises laced in one simple kiss.

Standing up and turning to Miguel, you gave him a serious look, despite your puffy face and red eyes.

“You should leave. For good.”

And for all his bravado, Miguel couldn’t help but melt when he looked at your son, at his round, bright eyes, and small pout. He might look like his father, but right now, he was all you. It killed him. He drove you to yell, he drove you to be mad and wake him up. Mierda. He’d fucked up again.

Miguel took his son in one last time, telling himself he’d keep an eye on him from afar, and nodded before walking away and leaving you alone in your living room.

You locked the door behind him, heart tightening.

You’d made the right choice.

“Would you mind sleeping with mommy tonight? I think I need my brave little boy to scare away the monsters…” You whispered.

This earned a chuckle out of Gabriel, who nodded and placed a hand on his forehead in a salute, no doubt imitating the cartoons he watched.

“I’m going to protect you!”

You smiled and took him to your bedroom once more, not even bothering to change. Your sweatpants were comfortable anyways.

Holding Gabriel close to you, you sighed when you heard him speak.

“That man said he was my father…”

You pressed your lips. However were you going to work this one out?

“Was he the one you wanted to protect me from?”

You let your hands run through his hair.

“Yeah, my love. He was.”

“How did he find us?”

That was a good question. With all of the yelling and anger, you’d forgotten to ask. But after all, this was Miguel you were talking about. He was a genius and would surely always find a way to you, sooner or later.

“I’m not sure. But he won’t hurt us. I promise.” You looked at him, offering him your best reassuring smile. Truth was, you weren’t sure he would follow you once again. But what you were sure of, was that you would always do your best to protect him and keep him safe.

Gabriel looked into your eyes and slowly wiped away what was left of your tears.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

No matter how used you were to it, it would always catch you by surprised how perceptive and intelligent your son was. You smiled slowly grabbing his hand and kissing it.

“I know.”

“Are you scared?” He asked again, his eyes droopy and his lips parting to let out a big yawn.

“I was a few minutes ago. But I’m gonna tell you a secret. That alright?” You moved your hand to cup his cheek.

“Mhm…” Gabriel mumbled, sounding like he was dozing off already.

“Mommy is never scared when you’re by her side.” It was barely a whisper, and you didn’t even know if he had heard it. Still, you added, “I’ll always be strong for you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched his gentle breathing.

And then, words.

“I love you, mama.”

They were barely audible, but nevertheless, they were there.

A few tears managed to escape – tears of joy, of love.

You would always do your best to protect him. You’d always be there to hold his hand and watch him grow, watch him become his own person, cheering him on as he went.

No matter what came your way, no matter what happened, you’d always be there by his side. For the good things, for the bad things, for the so-so things. To hold him tightly when he felt clingier than usual, to pin his drawings on the fridge, to hear him babble about whatever new topic he’d discovered in school, even if you were tired beyond reason and all you wanted was for him to go to sleep so you could get some rest.

You’d be there to tie his shoes until he could do it by himself, and to clean his face whenever he got too excited with his lunch. You’d be there to explain to him what a “memamporphosis” was, and to listen to him explain to you why Spiderman was the greatest of heroes.

You’d be there when he cried, and when he laughed.

And be there when he wasn’t yours anymore.

Four years ago, you had chosen him, and you would always choose him, for as long as you breathed.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.”

Spanish Translations

Mi cielo - My sky Mierda - Shit My vida - My life Te amo con todo mi ser - I love you with all of my being Eres la luz de mi vida - You're the light of my life Estás embarazada? - You're pregnant? Perdóname - Forgive me Buenos dias hermosa - Good morning beautiful Querida / Querido - Dear (While Querida is meant for a female partner, Querido is meant for a male partner, both are a term of endearement and have the same meaning) No sé por donde empezar - I don't know where to start

If you'd like to check out the song's translation, you can check this page out!

I hope you enjoyed this! Have an amazing day ahead, please keep yourself hydrated and safe <3

[buckttommy]

7b theories.

god this was emotionally exhausting.

Okay I'm going to break this up into two parts: Part One (Bobby and Athena), Part Two (Buck and Eddie)

Part 1 (Bobby and Athena)

Bobby's had an axe hanging over his head all season. I was too caught up in the BuckTommy euphoria to notice it. But rewatching the cruise ship arc in light of the final episode titles being revealed—especially the scene where Bobby and Athena think they're about to die in 7x02 with the flashbacks to his (and Athena's) time in therapy—it's just like...

Season 1 beginning with Bobby's need to atone for the lives lost in the apartment fire.

Bobby's arc beginning (?) in Season 7, "Ghost of a Second Chance" and carrying through to the rest of the season, including Step Nine (which, in AA, is the step about making amends for harm done)

Bobby telling Frank he proposed to Athena after recently moving to Minnesota after suffering a "loss" (he doesn't expand on it; great job being honest with your therapist, Bob)

"Athena. I am so sorry." "You have nothing to apologize for." "You didn't want to come on this damn cruise. I made you. What the hell was I thinking to deserve a second chance like this?"

Athena saying she was worried she didn't know how to be with Bobby and who they were without the "noise" of their lives.

Athena saying she has "lots to say but not enough time" and we haven't circled back to that.

Bobby's big rescue in 7x03, how he was fully in Fireman Mode, which was awesome but it also showed how capable he is, how much he fucking loves and is good at this.

"I wish Buck could have seen you do that." "Honestly? I would've much rather seen Buck do that" > Bobby feeling the age of the job on his body but still enjoying it. Knowing he's getting older but not wanting to be pulled away from it involuntarily necessarily

Season 4 Redux, yes, but one of the core facets of Season 4 was Bobby and Athena's conversation surrounding retirement as the result of (Athena's) on the job injury...

Hen being the go-to interim Captain when Bobby is absent/out-of-commission for whatever reason + Bobby referring to her as "Captain."

All of Hen's big stories always seem to center around either her family or her career. She just recently fostered a little girl, which means that any advancements to her story are going to be with her career. If Bobby is out of commission, perhaps permanently, Hen is looking at a promotion.

Bobby saying the only difference between him and the drunk driver from the pileup in Season 4 is "one bad day."

So my theory, now that I've moved past the hysteria of Bobby potentially dying, is:

Bobby saves either the members of the 118 (his family) from a fire + severe peril OR he saves the man from his past (whose loved ones died in the apartment fire, and who was unwilling to forgive Bobby previously) → In doing so, he injures himself → Season 7 ends on a cliffhanger with the audience thinking Bobby is dead → Major Character Injury forces Bobby to retire → Season 8, Bobby and Athena really have to sit with who they are outside of the "noise" of their lives once that noise has been reduced and no longer has any hope of being turned back up → Hen becomes Captain → Tommy/Ravi/someone else fills her spot → Paramedic Buck? (He has no interest in leaving the 118, but twice in two seasons, the idea of Buck changning his position within the 118 has been floated. Seems like a career switch is on the horizon)

[psi-spectacular]

I don't like hazbin hotel (shocker)

A lot of the problems come down to three things: 1. Viv's issue with being unable to let a concept go, 2. Her inability to maintain a consistent tone, and 3. The fact that it only has eight episodes. Look at helluva boss for example. So many villains get cliffhangers that say "oooOoOoOo I'm gonna reappear in another episode, just you wait!!" And they either just don't or the execution is completely flubbed stryker-style. And what is the show supposed to be? Is it a slice of life comedy about imps killing people on the surface? That concept was basically abandoned like five episodes in. A serialized drama about a complex relationship? Nope! the exploration of Blitz and Stolas's toxic relationship is returned to status quo for gag comedy. OOP! We've got two new characters to center the episodes around while abandoning the core cast!

Now look at Hazbin. I really liked the pilots concept! The idea of sinners being redeemed was interesting, the animation was nice, the characters were compelling, and I was really interested to see how they would develop over time and become better people! Then episode one of the new season comes out. Suddenly its about how heaven sucks actually (Off topic but can we talk about how in the opening exposition, Charlie talks about how angels kill demons to keep them from rising against them, and then in the meeting with Adam talks about overpopulation? What's up with that?) and quickly turns into a war against heaven plot.

You know the main concept of the show? Redemption of sinners? Yeah. I can count how many episodes are about that on a couple fingers. And count how many characters are actually there for redemption on two. And there are so many side characters they like to focus on rather than, I don't know, Focus on Charlie?

Thats another problem! Charlie barely has a focus. You'd think, as the main character, she'd get some sort of development, or some kind of arc, or at least more of a personality than "sunshine princess with big dreams". I don't use this word very often or very lightly, but shes very much mary-sue ish. Her obvious issues (IE seemingly weirdly fundamentalist christian ideas on redemption, constant overstepping of boundaries, the fact that she barely seems to put anything into her relationship with Vaggie while Vaggie falls over herself to make sure Charlie's happy, Very visible savior complex) are never discussed or adressed, and the fact that her hotel is based on an idea that doesn't have any evidence of actually even being possible is only ever addressed by antagonists who are supposed to be in the wrong. She doesn't change, she doesn't do much, but still manages to get everyone to sacrifice themselves for a hotel they're supposed to be super attached to. But we're never shown WHY they care.

And don't get me started on the side characters. The V's are only important in 1-2 episodes and never again, Carmilla exists as a plot device, Lucifer's... Lucifer, Adam is a one-note sexist strawman, and they just... Keep introducing characters. Pentious, Cherry, Mimsy, Cannibal town! You care about these characters! You must you must you must!!!! What do you mean you don't know who these characters are? Of course you do! They were in the plot important pilot that you have to get on youtube to watch!

These characters could have been explored so much better if there was more time in the show. Yes, thats the fault of Amazon, but when you're working with constraints, you need to learn how to work within these constraints. Keeping the "Heaven bad, hell good" thing for the second season while leaving the first season to focus on character development would have made the final battle so much more impactful. It's like an anti steven universe. People complain about how much filler steven universe has, but without that "filler" we wouldn't care about the characters as much as we do. Hazbin hotel, on the other hand, is like watching all the "intense, plot important" episodes without any context of who these characters are and why we should care about them.

At some point, when you're working in the industry, you need to learn that you need to trim the fat. Get rid of certain characters and plot points. Kill some characters off if you need. Wait to introduce a concept. If you can only work with a short amount of episodes, focus on making a good story with well developed characters first and a grand finale later. If you can wait, Wait. If you can't, don't. I know there's a second season but I genuinely don't know how it can go from here. Adam's dead, a sinner is redeemed, the hotel was rebuilt bigger and better than ever... what now?

TL;DR Hazbin Hotel reminds me of me and my friends old edgy gods and goddesses discord roleplay from when I was 13 than an actual planned story.

Sorry for the essay. Its honestly painful seeing something I looked forward too for years flop so hard on the execution. I love the concept, the songs, the animation is.... okay, Angel dust is best boy, but everything else is just eh. Mid. It tries to be so grandiose but I just felt bored and very confused throughout the whole thing, and very uncomfortable during episode 4. Its not offensively bad (hell, its barely even as offensive as people say it is) But its just. Not good in my opinion.

[dracoo-malf0y]

Keeping Up With The Malfoys E10 SEASON FINALE

McGonagall: DRACO MALFOY! HARRY POTTER!

Draco, jumping away from Harry: What?

McGonagall: WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

Harry: In my defense… I was just enjoying it. I didn't take part.

McGonagall: Both of you. To Professor Dumbledore's office.

Draco: Ugh

At Malfoy Manor

Narcissa: Shit, shit, shit. SHIT! HOW COULD YOU LET HIM ESCAPE?!

Lucius: Why did you leave me in charge of him?!

Narcissa: fair point.

Lucius: Anyways, what did Snape tell you and the Mudblood?

Narcissa: Well…

Flashback

Snape: Take a seat and I'll tell you about it.

Snape: So… you want to know about your son's behaviour in classes… with… Potter.

Hermione: Yes.

Snape: No one asked you.

Narcissa: Severus. be polite.

Snape, rolling his eyes: His eyes are always on Potter. One time he sent Potter an origami bird, and instead of throwing it to him, he sent it by blowing a kiss!

Narcissa: This seems to be really serious.

Snape: If you want to help their cases, the best I can say is that they… kiss.

Hermione: WHAT?

Snape: I can kill them if you want.

Narcissa: So we have to get them to kiss and they might calm down after that?

Snape: Yup

Currently

Lucius: I am NOT having my son kiss Harry Potter.

Narcissa, pulling out her wand: Too late. *Grabs Lucius's arm and turns on the spot*

At Hogwarts

Lucius: I never authorised that Apparition!

Narcissa, scoffing: Like I give a damn.

Lucius: They'll probably be in Dumbledore's office. No doubt a teacher has caught them.

Narcissa: Right.

At Dumbledore's office

Dumbledore: It has come to my notice, boys, that –

Narcissa: Hullo.

Lucius: Can we just get this over with?

McGonagall: What are you two doing here?

Draco: Yeah, what the hell are you doing here?

Narcissa: Draco and Harry have to come with –

Dumbledore: I'm afraid I can't do that. They were caught doing some things that even I cannot explain. So they'll have to sta–

Snape: Albus. Let them go. Malfoy is in my house, so it's fair I handle this.

Harry and Draco stand and go with Snape.

Narcissa, passing Snape and taking Harry and Draco to an empty classroom: Thanks.

Narcissa: So… Draco, you know how you've kept talking about Potter, well–

Lucius, pushing Narcissa to the side: Oh, just kiss already.

Lucius: *pushes Draco and Harry's heads together and they kiss.*

Lucius: You're welcome.

Narrator: What happened after the kiss? Did Draco and Harry's obsessions stop or did they become even stronger after they kissed? Find out in Season 2 of Keeping Up With The Malfoys. (Bit of a cliffhanger, right? 😉)

[void-18]

Soft Yandere Wanda: All just a dream

Warning: threatening, manipulation

(Y/ns pov)

My wife and I have been living happily in this home but something seems off. Don't get me wrong, Wanda is beyond amazing but the world itself seems to be out of balance. It keeps glitching and then myself, I keep glitching. Each time it does, I think I come more aware of what's going on. Wanda acts as if it's nothing but the neighbors are just mindlessly roaming and everything is just off. I was in deep thought as my wife woke up and wrapped her arms around me.

W: Goodmorning darling

She kisses my neck and shoulder as her arms cuddle my waist, inhaling the scent of my hair. I turn around in her hold and kiss her, loving her warm embrace. I see the lamp beside us turn into an older looking lamp??? Looks like it came out of the 70's. Wanda ignores it but I catch hold of it.

Y/n: Wanda what's going on? Do you remember that lamp being like that??"

Wanda peers at it, furrows slightly, and then says no. She said I was most likely just really tired from work last night... I know damn well that lamp wasn't there.

She gets out of bed and decides to go down to the basement. She says that's where she can do her online job and really focus but I've always felt something dark was in there. I don't know what and I never thought about it till now.

W: I'll be right back baby, I just have to do some work I didn't finish last night.

I nod and let her go to the basement, I lay there for a couple minutes thinking still until I realize in the corner of my eye... the lamp. It's back to normal, that wasn't possible and I'm starting to freak out. Really badly freak out.

I ran down to the basement and opened it with a key I saw Wanda used once when I was " napping" on the couch. I took it out frantically from its hiding spot and opened the door running in only to see... my wife  but also not her.

Wanda... SHE WAS FUCKING LEVITATING IN A SEANCE?!?!

This wasn't right, I know barley anything about this but Wanda never had to previously use seances for her powers! I turn to run away but Wanda's eyes snapped open and she closed the door locking it as I jiggled the door knob.

W: Y/n what are you doing down here?

The voice she used was oddly calm, I turn around now seeing her standing and looking with a bit of surprise but overall worry.

Y: Wanda what the hell are you doing?!

She looked taken aback cause I never curse at her. She sighs and walks closer to which I step back. She looked hurt by my response but there was no way I'm letting her near me, not after what I saw.

She used her powers and brought me to her. I yelped when I felt her cold hands on my neck and waist pulling me closer to her body. She looked at me intently before speaking.

W: There's nothing to worry about my love, I'm doing this for us! This town is mine and nobody will ever bother us again! We can even raise Billy and Tommy here.

She kept her hand on my stomach not letting me get away from her grasp. Wanda has been begging for months for us to have kids, but I wouldn't give in until one time she "forgot" to wear a damn condom. I didn't even know I was pregnant, it was too early to tell but her children growing inside of me... were they even real????

She chuckles and looks at me

W: Yes they are real my darling, which means it's best for us to stay together!

She leaned her head on mine

W: Please don't leave me, you're all I've got left. Here you're safe from out there. All three of you are.

I look into her eyes as she try's to keep her tears from running down her face.

Y: I'm sorry Wanda but I can't, this isn't right. Keeping these people here isn't right.

Her eyes darken at my response, I feel her aura shift as whatever took a hold of my Wanda creeps to the surface.

The ground starts to shake as Wanda gets more upset still holding me in her gentle embrace.

W: I'm sorry Y/n, but I can't do that.

A/N

Oh no. Cliffhanger... I'm sorry it's so late and I'm tired anyways see y'all with pt 2

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

You know what is really bothering me about these last couple of days in Thai BL land?

Yes there were a lot of tears, but none of them were mine. (the exception being cherry magic. that sequence of Karan taking care of Achi and then being heartbroken. My heart wasn't ready)

These are my personal and maybe unpopular opinions so just let me explain. Spoilers galore as usual. We had some heavy episodes this week. Starting with 7 days before valentine and ending with the sign.

7 Days Before Valentine Look, was it heartbreaking? Sure. Did I feel sorry for Sunshine? Nope. Not even a little. Because for 8 episodes we've seen a selfish, self centered human being make a mess of the world without an ounce of remorse. Just picking people off one by one for his own selfish desires. So even if this episode was actually good, because he finally confronted his selfishness, I was watching wearing a big neon sign saying - you had it coming... the world's smallest violin etc... Also we know he's not actually gone so. (this is the recurring theme of the week btw)

Pit Babe I mean Pavel did a great job and this show is doing a great job at showing men being vulnerable and crying. But let's be real. Charlie is not really dead. We know that. Omegaverse or not, this is Thai bl and we don't play that here.

So the idea to leave the audience in the dark is an attempt at a cliffhanger but ultimately void of any real suspense. If the audience were to be let in on the plan, I'm sure there is one, then we could've felt Babe's suffering in a more profound way. Because, in my opinion, that would be more powerful. We could've seen both sides of this and felt bad for both of them. What's the point of leaving us in the dark? Am I suppose to gasp next week when Charlie appears? When what will actually happen will be that as soon as we know Charlie is alive we will get angry at him for making the person he loves suffer and next at Babe because they will get right back to the papa and mamma talk before the I'm sorry leaves Charlie's lips.

Twins I mean, there wasn't really a lot of suffering left to be had here. I was the only one suffering due to the fact that this show really waited until the last episode to make Sprite come clean. And to top it of, making First feel even more like a door mat by forgiving Sprite so fast. What a waste.

Last Twilight I've already said my peace about this show a couple of times. I did feel Mhok's pain. Him alone crying outside the house was heartbreaking. But the problem is how it happened. Idiotic. The catharsis didn't have the time to actually be cathartic for Mhok. The noble break up was not noble. So in the end I cannot emotionally connect to any of this. They threw Mhok's nightmare in there in case we'd forgotten about his baggage, or maybe because they had, so that sudden confession of Mhok had diminished impact as it was followed by the break up which of course is the real heartbreak I guess.

The Sign What is up with the editing of this show?

I already said somewhere last week that I thought the editing of the rescue was terrible because it was not done as to invoke any emotional impact. The same happens this week.

What the hell was that cut after Phaya woke up? We had like 15 seconds of them looking at each other and Phaya reaching out before they cut to Dr ican'tkeepupwiththenamesatthispoint and then to the police story line that let's be honest, it's taking space from everything else that's more interesting and it's not giving us anything of value in return. Stop putting everything but kitchen sink into shows if you can't manage it properly. If you don't have space for these stories to breathe and give me something I'm missing in the main story lines. Look I love that Phaya got up from his hospital bed and immediately went for it, but I mean what am I suppose to feel about it? The show is not letting us settle into any one emotional state long enough to feel anything at all.

And, I'm really asking. Is anyone at all interested in the police investigation? You can have a police investigation as backdrop to a story. But if you're also gonna take it upon yourself to have this massive mythological, past and present lives star crossed lovers story, then something's gotta give. Maybe just make it a case that doesn't also span generations and brings secrets and lies along for the ride.

I'm so mad at Thai bl at the moment. Not you Cherry Magic, you are my precious ray of sunshine in the middle of all this rain. Please be good till the end.

[Thank you @twig-tea for being my proofreader. You're the best. 💜]

[amypihcs]

HELLO HUMANS! Well, well, a new letter from our dear W-AIT WHAT?

W-what? Holmes is WRITING?? DAAAMN. Watson messing with carpentry and beating his fingers instead of the nails... well, he just got the WRONG nails. Luckily Holmes is taking care of him! And agreed to write to us!

Ah Holmes, no need to be so bitter about it! Or maybe you are teasing you husband, uh? And yes. You tormented him with criticism and this is the payback. Write your own story and then take your own steps to apologize to Watson. Talking of him.

Watson, reading this: I am an unfeeling, rational and non-sentimental machine, so i'll present you an entire paragraph on how much i love my husband Holmes, blushing crimson: Shut up you insufferable tease W: Just admit that you love me H: I did it thrice in the first 10 minutes after we woke up this morning -snuggling watson noises- Now read on.

W: A WIFE, HOLMES? She was a PATIENT. She was having difficulties with the last stretch of her pregnancy and i had to go at hers!

Also i love how Holmes describes his way of analyzing his clients. And also how he goes 'so, Watson likes it when i do my deductions, it impresses Watson, and also other people, so i'll deduce this man's last years of life'

And at his surprise the reaction is

I miss my Watson so please give me the fact and hope this case is challenging as your letter made hope... WAIT, WHAT? KICKED YOU OUT? TELL ME MORE! -puffing on his pipe-

Stop being cheeky, lad. Tell the FACTS.

And he does. He was in South Africa and there he met a guy and they bonded a lot and he was wounded and now he disappeared!

Holmes is in this moment sympathizing with young Godfrey, he's interested!

Story continues. Our guy here manages to get himself invited to their place, a quite inaccessible one and gets shown into the father's study. the interview is not pleasing.

The man tells him to go the hell away and leave them alone since he ALREADY EXPLAINED, our pal says that his 'explanations' are a big load of bullshit. Man tells him to stay for dinner. Atmosphere is DEPRESSING and he climbs to his room as soon as decent and then the butler drops in!

Butler is like super old and his wife nursed Godfrey and so he asks if his foster kid behaved well in war and then he starts talking weird... in past tense as if he was dead. OF COURSE OUR PAL ASKS

THAT'S ONE HELL OF AN ANSWER, DAMNIT!

W: Ah, so now i'm matters, Holmes. Nice cliffhanger H: -grumble grumble- Writing this stuff is difficult. I'll propose them the ear monograph! W: at least it's not the tobacco one... H: Which you read... -bickering goes on-

Our Holmes left us with a cliffhanger just like his husband does! We'll hear the continuation in the next letter!

[missvelvetsstuff]

Just A Number

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Last chapter.....

Sam stepped aside but Y/N was looking at her own feet, afraid to see him, afraid to look until he spoke again "Y/N? Doll?"

She looked up nervously and felt her insides flutter and spin at how handsome he was, better than her memories, and her core heated up as she tried not to think about that nite.

She cleared her throat "Hi James."

Chapter 4

Warnings: swearing, angst. Cliffhanger, sorry.

Bucky just stared for a moment, the woman he hadn't been able to get out of his head for weeks was standing in front of him, looking stunning in a green silk blouse and black pencil skirt that fell above her knees combined with the black heels, highlighting her long legs.

He didn't notice the passage of time until Sam elbowed him in the side then loudly proclaimed "I'm gonna go get cleaned up, I'll meet you in the common room in an hour."

And quickly walked off.

Y/N was stuck in the same haze as Bucky, their own bubble, until Sam popped it by speaking. She shook her head and smiled shyly at Bucky.

Before she could speak Pepper excused herself "I'll be in the helicopter when you're ready to go."

Bucky cleared his throat and forced himself to say something, anything. "So uh you uh, you work with Pepper?"

He wanted to hit himself upside the head, nice work Captain obvious. Ask her out, for her number, something dumbass.

Y/N nodded as her hope deflated, he's obviously trying to be polite to spare her feelings in an awkward situation. "Yeah, for a few weeks now. She's a good boss."

Bucky nodded and smiled, trying to muster up some of the old Bucky Barnes charm "That's great. It's good to see you. I mean you look really good and...."

Her smile picked up "Yeah, it's nice seeing you. Unfortunately I have to say you look like you've been through Hell" she giggled.

Bucky chuckled "It's been a long plane ride at the end of a very long mission." He moved in a little closer trying to be more intimate without scaring her.

His voice dropped "You know, I was really disappointed when I woke up to find you gone."

Her eyes grew wide and her heart sped up "You were? I haven't done something like that in a long time and didn't want to overstay my welcome."

Bucky grinned at her "I'm not sure you could ever do that."

He moved a little closer until he could feel her breath on his face and caressed her cheek with his right hand, looking her straight in the eye.

"I really felt like we clicked, not just physically although that was next level, it was more than that but if you didn't feel it say so and I'll walk away."

His stomach was doing flips as he waited for her response.

Y/N smiled at him and spoke softly "Yes James I felt it. I just don't know if this can work. It's complicated."

He rubbed his thumb along her cheek "Life is complicated doll but maybe we can help each other deal with all of it.

I'm just asking for a chance."

Her phone buzzed and she looked to see it was a text from Pepper. "I'm sorry James but the boss is calling."

"Then I'll hurry. Can I have your number?" She nodded and they exchanged phones.

Bucky smiled "You busy tonight?"

She laughed "I am. Monthly family dinner. Mandatory when we're all in town." She smiled shyly "I don't have any plans for tomorrow night." her face heated up and she hoped he didnt notice.

Bucky noticed but didn't mention her nervousness, it was too adorable. "It's a date. I'll pick you up at 7. You like Italian food?"

She smiled and nodded "7 is good. I'll text you my address. Yes, I like Italian."

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a mauve print behind. "I'll see you tomorrow James."

He blushed and grinned like the lovesick fool he was and gently touched where she had kissed him. "Tomorrow doll. Text me when you are home safe. Or anytime."

Y/N hurried to the helicopter to see Pepper smiling like a fool as she pretended to play on her phone.

"Did you set that up?"

Pepper looked up "Set what up? Running into Barnes? How could I have? I didn't even know you knew him until an hour ago. Sometimes fate makes sure you see what it's putting in front of you. Please tell me you have a date or at least his number."

Y/N nodded "Yes to both. We have a date tomorrow nite and exchanged numbers. I'm still not sure if this can work but I'll talk to him. I'm just not getting my hopes up."

Pepper smiled "I know you've been through a lot, we all have since Thanos showed up but you deserve to be happy and he's a good man. Just have an open mind and see what happens." She gave Y/N a sly look "And get yourself a nice first date outfit on the card."

Bucky caught up with Sam in the showers. Sam was half dressed in street clothes and grinned when he saw Bucky.

"How'd it go? You got a date? A number? A quick bj in the supply closet?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Bucky scoffed "What the Hell birdbrain? A bj?" His eyes widened when he realized what that meant "I have a little more class than that. I did get her number and a date tomorrow night."

Sam slapped him on the shoulder "Good man. Now let's go eat, I'm starving."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the helicopter landed on top of Stark tower it was a few minutes after 5 . Y/N wished Pepper good night and rushed to her office to clean her desk off and grab her things before heading to meet with her adopted siblings at their favorite Mexican restaurant.

When she arrived she saw Dawn was there but John wasn't, he always showed late if he bothered to come at all. Even though they lived together, Y/N and Dawn were always there because it was a promise they made to their mother before she passed from cancer.

Even though it hadn't been more than 12 hours since they saw each other Y/N and Dawn still gave each other crushing hugs before sitting down to margaritas and fresh tortilla chips.

They caught up on the days events while waiting for their brother.

Of course Y/N gave Dawn every detail on her trip to the compound and run in with Bucky. Dawn was excited to see her sister happy and hopeful after being alone for so long.

"It's nice seeing you all glowing in love sissy, it suits you."

Y/N shook her head "You're getting ahead of things. I like him, and don't know how it will go tomorrow. I don't want to get my hopes up."

Dawn laughed "Fine don't get your hopes up but I have a good feeling about this guy."

"What guy?" John snapped from behind them. He grabbed his chair and scoffed before either of them could reply

"Don't tell me. I heard about you at the Avengers compound, making heart eyes at the Winter Soldier."

He sat heavily, ordered a whiskey from a passing waiter and looked at Y/N coldly "You better not be seeing him. No sister of mine is getting involved with that killer."

He laughed loudly "Not that he would want a dried up old bitch like you."

Y/N opened her mouth to say something but before she could, Dawn kicked John in the shin and he yelped in pain

"Bitch! Why do you always take her side. I'm your goddamn brother, she's not even related."

Dawn's eyes narrowed "Because, Johnny, you are an arrogant, self absorbed, entitled prick. Y/N is our sister no matter what you think about it and has been a better sibling to me than you ever tried to be."

John downed his whiskey as soon as the waiter set it down and demanded another with a slight slur.

"I don't care what you whores think of me. I'm still the man in this family and you will treat me with respect. Now I said she's not going out with him. Besides being a former assassin, him and his buddy took the shield away from me, testified against me in my court martial. How can you betray me by getting involved with him?"

Y/N was getting sick of his BS. "I thought I wasn't your sister? Why does it matter to you who I date?"

John growled "Because legally you are my sister and you took my family's name so people are going to judge me and our family if you get involved with him. I'll talk to my friends in SWORD and get you fired from your job, tell them you're a security risk."

He grabbed her wrist and squeezed "I'm not fucking around Y/N. You see him again and I'll make your life miserable."

She scoffed "It's always miserable when you're around. You have always-"

He twisted her wrist while he squeezed harder

"You'll be mine Y/N. You've been fighting and running from me for years but I will have you. You'll be a perfect side piece because- OOOWW, FUCK!" He hollered and let go of her wrist when Y/N kicked his other shin. "Fucking bitches. I'm not playing, you're gonna be mine if I have to lock you up in my basement."

He downed the next whiskey, slammed the glass on the table and stood to leave before spitting out "Enjoy your family dinner" and trying to stomp away on bruised shins.

Dawn looked over at her sister and saw how her arm was bruising. "We should get that looked at."

Y/N shook her head "It's just a little bruise, not broken or anything."

She exhaled heavily "I need a shot. And some food."

One hour and a few shots later they were finishing up their meal and fighting over whose turn it was to pay. Y/N finally relented and let her sister pay. But went outside to call an uber.

Y/N giggled as she was trying to unlock their front door and suddenly remembered "Heeeyyy, Sissy, listen, Pepper told me to get an outfit for my date, on her. We need to go in the morning and find something."

Dawn smiled excitedly "Yay!! Shopping! I'll wake you up at 10." she loved clothes and shoes and always wanted more. Y/N on the other hand didn't care for shopping, it was always so hard to find nice clothes that fit her properly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to her word, Dawn was knocking on Y/N's bedroom door promptly at 10am. She could smell the coffee brewing and made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

It wasn't long before they were out looking for the perfect first date dress. After the first few dresses fell flat, they moved on to a new store.

By the fourth store Y/N was ready to give up and try to find something in her closet that wasn't too 'business suit' for a date. Everything was too dressy or too slutty or too short for someone who is almost 6ft tall.

Dawn, as usual, saved the day by coming across the perfect dress that was mixed in with some truly awful ones. A dusty pink, silk, wrap dress that fell a little too high above her knees but was still mostly respectable. The v neck showed just a hint of cleavage and the belt tied on her left hip, just above the slit. It was the only one like that in her size.

Y/N excitedly tried the dress on and almost squealed when she looked in the mirror. She left the dressing room to show Dawn, who applauded and smiled "Perfect. Dude won't know what hit him."

Y/N felt her face heat up as she giggled "Well, I don't want to be too sexy, I'd like his brain working. I'm not really sure if I should sleep with him yet, unfortunately I'm also not sure if I'll be able to stop myself. I do know that we definitely need to talk." She sighed "dating has gotten a lot more complicated and confusing since we were young."

Dawn chuckled "If you think it's bad for us, imagine how he feels. I can't even imagine going from the 40's to the 21st century, poor guy. Just make sure you talk first, that's all." she waited outside of the waiting room for Y/N to change back into her clothes before speaking again when they were paying for the dress. "You need shoes. You wearing stockings or going bare? That dress will show your garter everytime you move. Which could be good or bad." Dawn winked.

They wandered to the shoe dept and quickly found a pair of nude, strappy, kitten heeled sandals and matching purse.

As they paid Y/N was thinking about Bucky's reaction when Dawn broke her out of her daze "I have the perfect jewelry, remember that pink sapphire lariat necklace and earrings? It would be perfect."

After they paid Dawn directed her to a salon and they both had mani/pedi's before heading home.

Y/N ate a very late, light lunch and sat in her room with candles and soft music in an attempt at calming herself before she made herself sick. She couldn't remember being so excited and nervous over a date since before she met her kids father. She smoked half of a joint to help the process.

Once she had her heart rate back down to normal levels she checked the time. 5 o'clock, time to start getting ready. She liked to give herself plenty of time, a habit left from her days of trying to get 2 young kids ready and out the door on time.

Dawn helped with her hair and make up, talking about nothing important as she worked. It was a ritual they had started when they were young. When either of them had a date or important meeting they would help each other look and feel their best while also helping ground them and their nerves.

A pitcher of homemade wine coolers didn't hurt.

At 6:45, Y/N was ready. Hair and make up done, new dress and shoes fitting perfectly. She sat at the breakfast bar, tapping her feet and breathing to soothe her nerves.

She jumped and yelped when the doorbell rang.

Before she answered the door, Dawn kissed her cheek and reminded her "You are an amazing woman and he's lucky to have your attention. Don"t ever forget that."

When she opened the door, Dawn eyed Bucky up and down but before she let him in the house advised him of how dangerous short girls can be including a reference to shovels and a woodchipper.

Bucky started to chuckle before he saw how deadly serious she was. He nodded "Understood, I have no desire to hurt her."

Y/N walked into the living room, making Bucky stop and gasp as he took her hand to kiss the back.

"Hello James"

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom

Chapter 5

[madtophatter2]

our flag means death S2 E8 final spoilers

so there's a lot of negativity in the fandom after the final after a certain character decision, so I'm gonna name all the parts I loved about the episode:

. "No pop pop! Calm down pop pop! Control your pop pop!" Had me cry laughing 😂

. Eds zoned out staring at the burning remains of the Republic of pirates with his lil "....stede" thinking about him yelling for help after he left *chiefs kiss*

. Ed climbing out the water in his leathers (the chaffing tho) in kraken mode 🐙

. The English soldiers finding one of stedes letters and ed murdering them like a badass while romantically reading his letter (Take that everyone who said my baby girl was illiterate!)

. "We wrote our names on eachother in permanent ink" god damn it David that's beautiful 🥺😭

. "This is lovely 🥺......😡 YOU WROTE ME A LOVELY LETTER!"

. Ed snatching the gun from a soldier, flipping it over his shoulder and firing a guy behind him👌👌 also obviously the trailer knee slide soldier slice 👌👌

. How many times have I rewatched the Reunion beach scene? Yes

. Izzy's speech about what pirating really means and the community was beautiful and feels like talking to the fan community.

. Everyone looking hawt as hell dressing up as English soldiers walking in slow mo.

. I know a LOT of peeps are mad but Izzy's death was really well done in my opinion, his lil talk with ed about wanting to go and how he needed Blackbeard as a character because it was like his bond with ed but he fed his darkness to keep him 🥺.

. "You're surrounded by family, They love you ed, just be ed, there he is" you're killing me 😭

. Lucius and Pete's marriage! 3 different ministers because why not! Eds side eye at stede like "bitch you're next"

. They own an inn! I know peeps are again mad at this ending but David was just leaving it in a place where it would be ok if they didn't get renewed for a 3rd season, it's better than them leaving it on a cliffhanger and it getting cancelled right?

. Buttons came back! (Or at least we assume it's buttons.....it could be any seagull really....but for emotional support it is definitely buttons!)

. End credits "GO FRENCHIE! 🙌"

[tobiasbotte]

Finally sat down and binged the Yu Yu Hakusho Netflix adaptation.

Got a lot of big feelings, but I'll sum them all up with this: I really liked it.

Not going to do spoilers (yes, even for fans of the source material, I think there could be spoilers regarding plot organization), but every five minutes or so in the very first episode, I teared up. Most likely due to the nostalgia that was hitting me. Bruh, I was raised on this show, and here it was, alive.

I adored almost everything I was presented with, and had very few complaints - in fact, I think most of my complaints stem from the way they boxed themselves in and didn't leave an out for season 2.

But that's okay! Because, 1, I had to take into account the Netflix Factor, which is that Netflix has garnered a neat little habit of crushing my dreams and not letting shows grow past their first season based on numbers alone, and I have tell myself, perhaps the writers didn't think Netflix would let them continue past this season, so they had to do their best to create a beginning, middle, and end so fans wouldn't be left in cliffhanger hell if it did get cancelled. Or perhaps budget constraints were too difficult - who knows! I could speculate 'til the cows come home, or I could enjoy this lovely offering.

And 2, I have faith that there could be another season. I'm not a very smart writer, so I obviously can't envision how to do it, but the way they encapsulated their story into 5 episodes was, I thought, clever. There is still plenty of source material to work with, and if they did that with these 5 episodes, they can do more mix-match magic with future seasons.

I'm bad at organizing my thoughts. I just wanted to look back on this and remember that I liked this show! Every inch of it was familiar to me, and I think that was what nudged me to the emotional edge of my seat.

Literally just here crying, where's the backdoor for season 2? You cleaned it up so neatly, yes, and I think I can reason out why, but put more faith in your work! I thought was beautiful! Now give me another serving!

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Intimidation Tactics / Chapter 6

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader x Dave York

Rating: E (smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: MM, frottage, canon-typical violence, cliffhanger

Summary: Suddenly, the kitchen–and the entire cabin–is bathed in near-complete darkness. You let out a little squeak of surprise at the change, and Marcus automatically reaches out to touch you reassuringly. In the wooded, rural setting, it’s so dark in the house that he can’t even see his own hand as he moves it.

A/N: I didn’t intend for this to end on a cliffhanger, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to be in reader’s head for the last part. Thank you to @pedropascalsx for helping me figure out what happens in the action and to @honestly-shite for looking this over for me <3 <3

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Chapter Six - Blackout

Marcus wakes to the soft ping of a phone in the early dawn light. 

"Heeyyyy," you croak, shifting and turning in his arms. In his and Dave’s arms.

Dave hums low in his throat in protest as you stir. He looks relaxed in sleep in a way he typically doesn't during the day. His perpetual pout is softened somewhat, his jaw not tensed as it usually seems to be during the day. 

"Wuzzat mine?" you slur. "Haven't had any signal since we got here."

"It's a dead zone," Dave says, not opening his eyes. "Part of the appeal of it being a safe house."

"How the hell do you contact anyone?" you grumble.

"WiFi," Dave answers simply.

You stretch languidly and sit up, reaching over Marcus for your phone on the bedside table, and he lets his fingers linger on your skin as you go, sliding across the soft flesh of your stomach. Now that he's allowed, Marcus isn't going to refuse any opportunity to touch. 

You collapse back on the bed with a sigh, phone in hand. 

"It's my mom," you announce to no one in particular. "Asking if I'm all right, because obviously she hasn't heard from me."

You start to type a response, then swear softly. "Except there's no signal again. It's like there was just enough of a blip for that one message to go through."

"It won't be too much longer," Dave promises. "There's a status update this afternoon."

"We'll be able to leave soon?" you ask hopefully. 

"Depends,” Dave says, kissing your shoulder gently, “on what happens today.”

You cast your phone aside and turn in Dave's arms, pulling Marcus with you–who comes easily, slotting himself against you and sandwiching you between them. "What do you mean, it depends?" you ask, softening the question by arching into Dave slightly as you stretch again, bringing your arms around his neck with a soft hum of satisfaction. 

"The lead operatives all have tails on them from people on my team," Dave tells you, a hand on your lower back drawing you closer still. "Once the two of you were endangered, we increased surveillance, looking for an opportunity to move in and take them down in one swoop. Depending on their movements, that moment could be coming soon.”

“Aww, you were protective of us,” you tease.

“You two were impeding my investigation,” Dave retorts, smiling wickedly. 

“That’s it?” Marcus asks with a matching grin. “That’s the only reason we’re here?”

“That’s the reason you’re in this safe house, yes,” Dave rumbles. “Not the reason you’re here, exactly.” 

“Here in your bed, you mean,” you say, climbing on top of him and pinning his hands above his head–a largely meaningless gesture, as Dave could easily overpower you, but he makes no move to fight you off. “Are we still impediments?” you ask.

“Yes,” Dave deadpans. “Right now you’re impeding my ability to get up and make coffee.” 

—

After breakfast and some coffee, Marcus goes to shower, borrowing some more clothes from Dave–this time accompanied by a soft, lingering kiss. Afterwards, when he returns to the living room, the two of you are gone. Frowning, Marcus looks in Dave's–their?–bedroom, then calls out a soft "Hello?" down the basement stairs. Still nothing. 

Marcus cracks the door to the small porch that faces into the back yard, about to call out again, when he hears a thud, and a little squeak of surprise. 

What?

Smiling now, Marcus cocks his head to the side in confusion as he follows the noise. He doesn't have to go far to find it–you, wielding an axe and a determined expression, and Dave, leaning against a nearby tree with his characteristic amused smirk as you bring it up over your head again in preparation for bringing it down on a large piece of firewood. 

Thunk!

The axe embeds itself in the log without splitting the wood. You let out a feral little growl of frustration and pull back again.

"Wait!" Dave calls out, stepping up behind you and grabbing the axe before you can swing it again. "Hang on. You've got no leverage like that, see?" He takes one of your hands and slides it up the wooden shaft. "Right there," Dave murmurs into your ear, and Marcus’s smile widens when he sees you sag against him slightly as a result. 

It's especially crisp today, each exhale sending little puffs of condensation into the air every time Marcus breathes. Dave is dressed for the weather in a thick, plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms, and the overall effect looks delicious. 

Marcus wonders what Dave is like when he's not out here. That day in the park, he had been wearing a crisp navy suit, and he had made–if Marcus is being honest–quite the intimidating figure. Since coming here, though–especially since falling into bed together–Dave has seemed far more relaxed. He looks just as comfortable tending the wood furnace that heats the cabin as he had escaping your attackers on the crowded city streets. 

This isn't the first time Marcus has wondered exactly what type of man David James York is, but this is the first time he finds himself excited to find out for himself.

Dave pats you playfully on the ass and steps back. "Try it now."

You bring the axe down again, and the log splits right down the middle. You let out a shriek of triumph and spin around to face Dave, beaming.

"That's one," Dave deadpans.

"How many go in the boiler?" you ask warily. 

"Ten or so at a time," Dave answers, and you groan. 

Dave chuckles. "We'll use some from the pile, pumpkin, it's fine."

You hand him the axe. "You do one."

"Why?"

You look up coyly through your eyelashes. "I just wanna see."

Dave smirks and shakes his head in amusement, but he grabs another log from the pile and sets it down on the stump. Just as he's about to raise the axe, his phone rings. Frowning, he fishes it out of his pocket and reads the caller ID.

“I have to take this,” Dave says quietly, pursing his lips. He stalks away with a tense expression, leaving the two of you standing by the wood pile, watching him go.

“Do you think it’s about–” 

“Oh, yeah,” Marcus finishes for you. “No question.”

“I’m covered with soot,” you say quietly. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Okay,” Marcus says distractedly, still staring in the direction Dave had gone. 

You disappear into the bathroom, and Marcus stands at the large windows, listening to the sound of Dave’s muffled voice coming from his bedroom. He shouldn’t listen in. He shouldn’t. Marcus does anyway, creeping closer to the door until the low rumble of Dave’s voice turns into words. He can’t parse entire sentences, but what he does hear sends a pit of dread into his stomach.

“Tomorrow”

“Have to act–”

“Leaving… oh six hundred–”

“–can’t know.”

“Alone.”

When Dave stops talking, Marcus knocks softly and enters before Dave has a chance to protest.

“What,” Dave says, void of emotion. He grabs a black duffel bag from the top shelf in his closet and tosses it on the bed. 

“I know what you’re up to,” Marcus says. 

Dave raises his eyebrows, seemingly unimpressed.

“Gonna disappear on us before we even have a chance to realize you’re gone?” Marcus accuses. “Leave us here, stranded and sidelined?”

“Sidelined?” Dave scoffs. “This isn’t your fight.”

“I seem to remember being shot at two days ago,” Marcus counters.

“That doesn’t mean it’s your fight. You two are caught in the crossfire and it’s my job to keep you safe,” Dave says with finality.

“Your job according to who?” Marcus asks. “According to you, maybe. But no one asked you to do this. I certainly don’t remember asking for this.”

“Feeling ungrateful now, are we?” Dave snaps. “Would you rather I let you two become twin smears on the pavement back in D.C.?”

“No, I–no,” Marcus says vehemently. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying I don’t want to be left in a damn cabin while you go putting your life in danger. You’ve got two capable Agents that you’re planning on locking in a safe house when we could be at your back.”

“Have a lot of experience in espionage, do you, Agent Pike?” Dave sneers.

“Hey, fuck off. If you’re just going to be a dick, then never fucking mind,” Marcus responds, anger starting to rise to the surface. 

“I mean, by all means, if you’re secretly a fucking Navy Seal, then please–”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus demands, giving Dave a little shove as he crowds the other man against the wall. “Like it or not, we’re involved. With the case, with you,” he says pointedly, “we’re involved.”

“That’s exactly why you two are staying here,” Dave says flatly, staring down his nose at Marcus from his place against the wall, refusing to back down.

“Oh, I get it,” Marcus snaps. “So you can look down on us, is that it? Not as big and important as you? Too stupid to have your back in a fight–”

“Marcus,” Dave says lowly, in warning. 

“No, forget it,” Marcus mutters, releasing his hold on Dave with another final push into the wall before stalking away.

“I’ve lost everyone,” Dave states flatly as Marcus reaches the door, and he pauses.

“Whether it’s through literally being killed in front of me or by being slowly pushed away by the reality of what I do for a living, I. Lose. Everyone,” Dave says again. “So you’ll forgive me if I want the two of you as far away from that as possible.”

Marcus softens at the confession–at what Dave is saying without really saying it. Stilling in the doorway, he turns around, taking in Dave’s wary expression–as if he’s trying very hard not to give anything away with his eyes.

It isn’t working. 

“Have you ever thought it might be the other way around, as well?” Marcus asks quietly as he approaches the other man. “That we might not love the idea of sitting here just waiting while you put yourself in danger?”

Dave doesn’t respond, still leaning against the wall, and Marcus steps toe-to-toe with him again, so close that he could reach out and embrace the man–although he doesn’t.

“You did go through all that trouble to rescue us, I suppose,” Marcus continues. “Would be a shame to have wasted your time after all that.”

“You’re not coming,” Dave repeats.

“Fine,” Marcus says. “But can you not at least tell us what’s going on instead of silently packing your bags?”

“I can’t talk about—”

“I’m not talking about case details. I’m talking about you. Don’t you think you owe us a heads-up that you’re leaving?”

Dave raises his eyebrows. “Owe you?” he repeats sardonically. “I’ve heard that from you before. Are we back to that, now? Back to me owing you answers?”

“Are you being purposefully obtuse?” Marcus snaps. “You don’t owe us answers because of the case, you— I’d hoped you’d owe us the courtesy of knowing that you’re leaving because of what we are–”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“I care about you!” Marcus shouts. “Jesus Christ! It’s like talking to a brick wall with you, sometimes. You’ve put up all these defenses around your work, and I get that, believe me, but you’ve built them too high and you can’t see when people are genuinely trying to reach you.” 

Dave is silent again, but his mouth opens and closes a couple of times as his eyes search Marcus’s face. He’s frowning, two deep creases in between his eyebrows as he seemingly grapples with what Marcus is saying. 

“Oh for fuck’s–” Marcus starts, muttering to himself, and then crushes his lips to Dave’s.

It’s desperate and messy; the two of them battling for the upper hand, but Marcus does not yield, gripping the other man’s neck roughly as he fights to control the kiss. Dave finally relents, letting himself be shoved back against the wall again–this time for far more pleasurable reasons–as Marcus slots their hips together and takes. 

The kiss escalates quickly–soon the two of them are fumbling with buttons and zippers in a race to feel skin against skin. Neither of them bother to take their pants off all the way, leaving them bunched around their thighs as Marcus fists their cocks together. Marcus is sure they look a sight–half-undressed, pressed against the wall, seeking release almost desperately. 

“Fuck,” Dave groans into Marcus’s mouth, and he swallows the curse eagerly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Marcus breathes. “Fuck, look at you.”

Dave’s cheeks are flushed, his cock nearly purple and weeping in Marcus’s grip as he strokes both of them furiously. 

“C’mon,” Marcus murmurs. “Cum for me–God, I love the sounds you make when you cum.”

Dave’s cock twitches in response to his words, and he growls low in his throat and nips at Marcus’s lower lip in response. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Marcus groans. “Never gonna get enough of this cock.”

“F-Flatterer,” Dave accuses, although the hitch in his voice softens the effect. 

“Shut up.” Marcus chuckles against the other man’s lips. “Or I’ll stick it in your mouth, instead.”

“Promises, promises, Agent Pike,” Dave teases. “Later,” Marcus says. “Fuck–later, I need–”

“Need what?” Dave breathes, reaching down to help Marcus, both of their hands bumping together as they chase their pleasure.

“You,” Marcus confesses quietly, just before everything starts to draw up tight. He presses their lips together again as he falls over the edge, with Dave close behind.

“I know what you do,” Marcus says hoarsely, still breathing heavily, but needing to get the words out. “I know who you are, and I’m okay with it. I know you won’t be able to tell us everything all of the time, I’m just asking for–I don’t know, a reasonable amount of disclosures, here.”  

Dave sighs–a long, drawn out exhale, and nods. “Anything that I can tell,” he promises, “I will.” He gives Marcus a far-too-gentle kiss, and he aches–

"But I can't not go tomorrow," Dave adds, and he does actually look regretful, Marcus notes. "There's too much riding on this op. We've spent years–" 

"I know," Marcus says, and he smiles. “I just found you,” he whispers. “I’m not exactly eager to let you get away just yet.”

"I’ll be safe,” Dave promises. “It’s fine.”

—

This time, Marcus joins in on making dinner. 

Dave–always full of surprises, it seems–is a fan of cooking. He's far more proficient than Marcus, who relies far too heavily on takeout and he knows it, but when Dave hands him a handful of potatoes and a peeler with a soft smile, Marcus thinks that maybe he'll start doing it more. 

He glances over at the stove, where Dave is currently braising some pork chops while you sit on the counter and swing your legs happily, and smiles to himself.

For the first time in a long time, Marcus feels as though he's right where he needs to be.

Suddenly, the kitchen–and the entire cabin–is bathed in near-complete darkness. You let out a little squeak of surprise at the change, and Marcus automatically reaches out to touch you reassuringly. In the wooded, rural setting, it’s so dark in the house that he can’t even see his own hand as he moves it.

“Why did we lose power?” Marcus murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s not storming or anything.”

“We shouldn’t have,” Dave responds, his voice taking on a darker, more serious tone. “There’s a backup generator.”

A backup generator. Cold dread slowly, slowly washes over Marcus as he mulls over this information. “This is intentional,” he breathes. 

“Mm,” Dave grunts. He illuminates his phone, bathing the three of you in electronic blue light. “Someone cut the power. They’ve found us.”

Dave grabs Marcus’s upper arm and pulls the both of you through the living room. “Go to the bedroom, get your sidearms, and stay fucking put,” he growls. “Shoot anything that comes through the door.” 

“Where are you going?” Marcus hisses. 

“Gun locker in my closet,” Dave answers. “Stop asking questions and move.”

You bolt for the spare bedroom. Marcus is about to follow when Dave’s hand clamps down on his forearm in a vice grip. 

“There’s a panic room in the basement,” Dave tells him quickly. “Get her there.”

Dave’s eyes are black coals save for the pinprick of light from his phone. They bore into Marcus’s with a ferocity that would have scared him before he had ended up in the man’s bed, wrapped around him for half the night. 

“She’ll kill you herself,” Marcus says sardonically.

“Get. Her. There.”

Marcus enters the spare bedroom to find you already holding your gun at the ready, and his heart clenches with a mixture of pride and fear. And guilt for what he's about to do. 

"Dave said there's a panic room in the basement. We're going to make our way down and he'll meet us there," Marcus says, hoping he can keep the waver out of his voice. 

He always was a terrible liar.

"He said to stay put," you point out.

"We both agreed that this is the better strategy," Marucs says. "Let's go."

The two of you make it to the basement without incident–but Marcus can hear the soft sound of footsteps above him as people begin to enter the house. He lets out a shaky breath. Let Dave be okay.

Marcus opens the panic room door with his heart in his throat. You thread your fingers together and quickly step inside, pulling him along by your joined hands. 

Marcus swallows. 

"What the hell are you looking at?" you ask, giving him a funny look.��

Marcus grabs your face with both of his hands and gives you an urgent, hard kiss. 

"I love you," he murmurs. "I'm sorry."

Before you can protest (or flip him on his back for what he's about to do), Marcus gently pushes you further into the room and quickly steps out. You only get as far as "You son of–" before the door closes and locks. Marcus looks down at the keypad. It shouldn’t open from either side without the proper PIN. There’s a pit in his stomach–but right or wrong, he, like Dave, would rather you be angry and safe.

A hard thud upstairs makes him wince. Squaring his shoulders, Marcus raises his gun and turns his back on the panic room, where he's sure you're still standing at the door, shaking a handle that won’t open and absolutely incensed with him.

Marcus climbs as quietly as he can up the basement stairs, taking care to shut the door– leaving as little evidence that someone is down there as possible. Suddenly, a beam of light points around the corner right in front of him, and his arm instinctively shoots out to grab the barrel of the gun and yank forward, knocking the attacker off-balance.

It’s been a long time since Marcus had done any close quarters combat training, but it's quickly coming back to him. There are a few tense moments when he grapples with someone–dressed in black and carrying an assault rifle–before he manages to bring them down with a fatal blow to the temple with the butt of his gun. The longer he manages to go without firing a shot, the better, Marcus thinks. If he can continue to be quiet, sneaking through the house in the dark, he can find Dave without alerting any extra hostiles to his presence.

In his second confrontation, Marcus isn’t so lucky. His opponent manages to get him in a chokehold while Marcus continues to fight to keep the man’s gun pointing away. He lands a few well-placed kicks, but the other man is built like a brick wall. In this position, Marcus is hilariously unmatched. Desperation kicks in as his vision starts to gray from the lack of oxygen, but he keeps fighting until two sharp thuds sound beside him and his throat is released. 

Marcus whirls around, breathing heavily, to see Dave’s black eyes and squared jaw, his handgun (outfitted with a military-grade silencer) still pointed at the attacker. Marcus gives him a shaky nod of thanks. 

Dave mouths your name in question.

Marcus silently forms the word safe and jerks his head toward the basement stairs. 

Rapid footsteps make both men spin around, but Marcus barely has his gun leveled before Dave has discharged his own weapon two more times–both in the head–and the next assailant falls.

“Jesus, Dave,” Marcus breathes, barely audible. 

The two of them move through the house. Dave takes the lead, and Marcus is more than happy to let him, because, as he's quickly starting to learn, the man is capable of alarming brutality. If their lives weren't in danger, Marcus isn't sure whether he'd find it sexy or terrifying, the way Dave is able to take down intruder after intruder with practiced efficiency. 

Marcus watches Dave's back, shooting the few attackers who manage to get a chance to take aim at the man. They make a good team, the two of them. The thought makes Marcus stop dead in his tracks. 

"Three," Marcus whispers.

Dave spins around. "What?" he mouths. 

"It's supposed to be the three of us," Marcus says softly. 

"It is the three of us," Dave insists. 

Marcus shakes his head. "No, it's not."

"This isn't some fucking movie where everyone has to work together," Dave growls, stepping forward until the two of them are inches apart. "This is life or death, and I'd rather both of you be in that fucking room, but I knew you'd never agree to that so I got the next best thing."

"I'm aware it's life or death, you asshole," Marcus snaps back. "But three people with guns are better than two, and I'm going back for her."

A floorboard creaks behind them, and Dave whips around, putting a bullet between the assailant’s eyes in one fluid motion. 

Marcus grabs Dave’s shirt and pulls him back around for a quick kiss. "You're fucking scary, you know that?"

"Thought I was an asshole," Dave says quietly. 

"You are an asshole," Marcus says with a wry grin. "But I–" He pauses, blinking. It's been two days, he can't say that. He's doing the same thing he always does, he–

Marcus's internal panicking is silenced with a warm palm on his cheek. "I know," Dave murmurs. "It's okay. And you're right," he adds, reluctance dripping from every syllable. "Let's go get her."

They don't encounter any more hostiles on their way back to the basement. The two of them tread silently downward, when Marcus nearly trips over a body lying at the foot of the stairs. That hadn’t been there before.

"Was that one of yours?" Marcus asks Dave in a low voice. 

Dave shakes his head. "You were the only one who was down here."

"That’s what I thought," Marcus agrees. "No one was here before."

Their eyes meet, the same realization washing over them at the exact same time.

"Shit."

[yatorihell]

Noragami Reread Volume 18-21

We've finally come back to the original wish, and there's a lot of foreshadowing going on... I wish I had Discord emojis

Vol 18

68

Takemika and Yato still fist fighting in the background as their guides chat

Kiun defending Takemika's actions from Sekiun

This is the first time we've seen Nora get banged up this badly

Nana sees a whole army and is ready to catch hands I love her

Kazuma shows up to stop Bishamon and the whole flashback of him hold her hand

'I will always be by your side' (40 chapters later)

God remember when this chapter dropped and so did Kazuma hhfg

69

The whole flashback of Kazubisha then going to current situation I hate this manga

Who's that beefcake god Yato took the garment from hello

'You will never save anyone' vs recent chapter

Father neck cut tracker: 1

Baby Yato panel and then he just obliterates Heaven

'I'm not letting dad kill another drinking buddy' then he slashes her

Oh I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad that Kazuma is carried away

Oh I'm so sad Adachitoka I'm going to kill myself in front of you that flashback to choki vs the bloody ear I'll never forgive you

70

Oh yes we're back to tying up Yato

I PROMISE I WON'T LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU

Hiyori imagining Yato dying like Ebisu then going to be useful find Bishamon

Yato popping off on heaven

Amaterasu reveal followed by immediate death sentence hshdh

BOXKINE ARRIVES @boxkine I miss you <3

God remember when we got that memory page and dissected the hell out of it, thentheories on what container it was

71

Tenjin coming in clutch with the trial by pledge

Remember the reaction to Tsuyu getting beheaded jsbdbn Tenjin and Yato's faces when it happens

Daikoku volunteering I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Yato's reaction to it all I hate this

Yukine memories breaking through nsbdb hell

Yato's dark nature seeping out why couldn't you show it to us king

Oh remember how bad this cliffhanger was with the fact Kofuku is a bad luck charm

Volume 19

72

Oh Hiyori's hand on Yato's face she's so relieved

Small trio panel jsbd

Kofuku’s guilt over not wanting to risk Daikoku but tbf they all acknowledge they wouldn't risk their own guides

Hiyori waiting for Yukine to fall asleep before leaving him

Yukine's bloody nails not a foreshadowing at all

Kuraha scratching the door, poor thinvs stuck in form until Bishamon wakes up in 5 years

Arahabaki faking Nana's death to bring her home

'I abandoned my little girl' there are several daddy issues in this manga

Yukine trauma getting stuck in the dark it gets worseee

Adachitoka sweetening us up with happy trio panel as if they didn't just traumatise Yukine

73

Time for a lughthearted chapter of Ebisu getting kidnapped

Kunimi bargaining for vacation time as if Ebisu's life isn't on the line

Kunimi with no sleep is how I feel

Little Nora is so innocent she won't kill you

Ebisu not cared for and he knows he'll be replaced, but at this point it's child neglect

'Death doesn't mean the end of flesh it's the end of memories' running of the most recent chapter live laugh lobotomy

Hiyori being useful finding Ebisu with scent

Remember the superkunimi photoshop trend we did

Oh Hiyori and Yukine height difference grows I'm so sad

Yukine having a scary dream but it was Yato and he felt better

WILL THEY HAVE TO FACE IT EVENTUALLY

I WANT TO BE HERE WATCHING OVER THEM

Adachitoka is really giving the trio content before separating them for like 5 years

74

Hiyori narcolepsy plot finally returns

SO EVEN AFTER I GROW UP I WANT TO REMEMBER IT

Oh look at all the photos I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Hiyori shooting down the flash mob idea and it happens anyway

THOSE COLD DEAD EYES I mean it's accurate

Yato thinking Bishamon can come as if she isn't hanging by a thread

Takemika joining because he thinks it'll teach him how to be like Yato hdhd

Nora fuck off I forgot what you're about to do

Oh they're at the naming place I'm so sad

ALTHOUGH YOU MAY STUMBLE AND LOSE YOUR WAY I'M HERE TO CALL OUT YOUR NAME there is a gun in my mouth

Oh I'm going to end it the blossoms and his real name is spring tree oh I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Hiyori's wearing her old uniform and Yato notices she's grown

Nora you fucking slut you ruined the whole chapter (I'm not slut shaming I'm just mad)

75

Oh Yatori are ao happy it's gunna end so soon

Yato forbidding Yukine's romance ahhg

Takemika just bursting through the roof like it's nothing

God another ablution for Yukine you'd think he'd just come out with it after the last time

Kiun is a whore confirmed

Oh this is the last time the three of them are together I'm so sad it was when Yukine runs off and then jdjdbd

'You think Yaboku's going to come for his daddy's head' yes <3

God what is that face Nora I can't tell if she actually likes Yukine

Nora girl bossing gaslighting herself into Takemika's employ

Oh my god as soon as I saw Hiyori with the bike I realised where I was I hate this

'Maybe you don't even realise when you're in love' what if I died

Yato read her diary NO THATS WHY HE'S DOING IT AAAAAAAA

He's following Bishamons plan I'm so sad

'I KNOW THAT YOU WILL NEVER FORGET ME HIYORI' Oh my god its because he believes he can be reincarnated from Hiyori

'YOU'LL SEE ME AGAIN' YEAH AND YOU'LL BE A CHILD AND HIYORI GETS KILLED

Vol 20

76

Yato really giving it all up about Father he's finally serious about ending it

'I wanted to be together until the very last second' vs recent chapter

'I still have Hiyori' he's thinking of reincarnation he puts so much belief in her

Arahabaki is basically running an orphanage

Nana hunted a bear for dinner jsbdb

'I don't want anyone taken from me ever again' vs recent chapter

Yato clicking Bishamon is unprotected then flashing to Father killing her oh we were so pressed after this chapter

77

Oh that intro had us we thought Bishamon reincarnated

Rip Kuguha you duplicitous bitch

Kazuma hatred for himself and everyone else he's microwave meal ready to be your burial vessel

Yato admitting he admired Bishamon and he was jealous as a war god

'I want you to die Yato' isn't that the bloody mood

Iwami not wanting to change history so he lets it repeat over and over watching this child suffer

Kazuma giving Harry Potter vibes with that unbreakable tracking spell on him and Nora

Nora showing up to Yukine saying she's been abandoned and her names are gone this was sus in the first place but we had a few nice chapters from it

Saying it was a lie liking him but Yukine still seems to like her

Oooo Father you're a mean one you're so slimy die

78

Nora wanted names to fill a void because she's not figured out she wants to live

Yukine wanting to take care of Nora

Yato just name him why do you feel such a way about sharing shinki bsbd

'Sweet innocent girl as a human sacrifice' fucjifbh

Hiyori death forshadowing tracker: 5

'You'll never have Yato' hhdbd probably not

Kazuma projecting his rejection from Bishamon on Hiyori telling her to try confessing to Yato

GODS CANNOT LOVE MORTALS I hate this life

A GOD AND A HUMAN CAN NEVER BE TOGETHER we've just been ignoring the signs <3

I LOVE YATO

Kazuma forcing Yato to name him and kissing his Kazu name I'm unwell

Oh they're both crying same

79

'So I never forget' girl you're about to forget so hard

'A gentler version of myself would suit him better' fuckifnnf Yukine would be such a good big brother

I'VE ACTUALLY GOT SONEONE I LOVE TOO hellscape

Hiyori's diary must show up in the final chapter it is the catalyst

Tenjin knew she liked Yato all this time jdbd

'They spend countless reincarnations waiting and that something becomes cherished' Oh Yato's going to be waiting for her when she's an old lady like grandpa Iki

'God's love isn't only about giving also taking' vs recent chapter

'Whether you live and forget or die and forget you have to give an answer' I hate this manga

Yukinora hanging out and him treating her like she's alive

'If I'm going to forget it'll be like we never met at all' hate hate hate

Volume 21

80

Hiyori ignoring the warning from teacher about falling behind and going to look for Yato girl you may as well die

Rekki practice

Father reincarnated into random bodies which is interesting, and he got the powers of a god after returning from yomi?

Yukine daddy issues have been stirred

'Nora died a terrible death'

Oh no Yukine's thinking about his death

81

Yukine came that close to breaking Daikoku and Kiun

Kofuku knows Yukine's is doomed I hate this, I wonder where they go since they disappear for a while

Yukine starts looking at news articles about people who have died sjd

Nora trying to stop Yukine but it turns out she's not trying she's sowing the seeds for him to seek out Father

'I want to meet my mum and dad' are you sure about that

'I chose to stay on this side, it's fine this way' ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT

'You're smiling and that bothers me' fucking mood

Father's really just a bastard and now Hiyori's cord is damaged

82

Masaomi forgot Yato but not the shadow or ayakashi which is interesting for Hiyori's future links to Yato

Hiyori death foreshadowing tracker: 6

Masaomi remembers Yato and says was good looking but kind of pathetic djdnnd that's how I like my men

Kazuma doesn't realise Bishamon chose Nana so Kaazuma wouldn't die

Bishamon tear oh she heard it all I'm so sad

Yato in the traffic cone using Takemika as target practice kdnc

I'm not gunna get won over by the Sorcerer' ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT

Oh he's taken the protection charm he believes in it (it doesn't really work <3)

Vomiting is this the last time he sees his home (Kofuku’s)

83

Poor Ebisu please learn to dress it's not hard

Takemika's messy hair is a look

Daddy Daikoku making a kite with Yukine

Ajshbd coo phone taking a dump on Takemika

Rip Takemika Kofuku is swearing vengeance

So the og plan is the Gods go hunting with Amaterasu without shinki

Yukine you dumb bitch this manga could've ended like 26 chapters early and with significantly less trauma

I'M NOT YUKINE GET THIS OFF ME

I'LL BE TAKING YUKINE

[ineffably-human]

Some very belated meta about Guillermo's season 4 cliffhanger (which got so long I considered splitting it into two posts, but tbh I think these ideas need to exist together)...

I want to emphasize again that I'm convinced: at least in part, Guillermo took matters into his own hands for the entire household. He's getting himself turned right now to get them all moving forward again. And I still can't get over that.

Maybe it's because I sat wondering about how that line translated for two weeks before the episode aired in English. The entire ending was hanging on it. 'Nothing changes, but I can'? 'Nothing will change [about this place? about my life?] unless I do'? Did Guillermo really think the best way to move forward in his life was to remake himself in a way that left him completely alone?

But he's specifically talking about something outside of himself. "Nothing ever changes in this house, nothing's ever going to change, unless I change it."

And that's not something he has to care about. He could look at Nandor sitting in his chair, settling down to read for a decade after driving everyone insane, and he could say 'oh, okay. None of it meant anything. All these things you supposedly needed from me, the boundaries you crossed in my life, the loneliness and fear you said you had - those were all whims to you, and you don't actually give a shit.'

Instead he asks what's next, asking Nandor to take the lead again. He doesn't express his own fears (we'll come back to this), he asks for Nandor to validate them by feeling the same: "Don't you feel like nothing ever changes around here?" And when there's no answer to 'what's next?', when Nandor claims there's nothing he wants or will want for many years, that's what gets Guillermo moving.

Because that means another ten or fifteen years of waiting, yes - but also because Guillermo knows that's not true. He's watched Nandor, watched all of them, try to achieve something beyond what they've been for hundreds of years. He's seeing them experience truly heartbreaking losses, and treat it as a factory reset. And he still has that human perspective - that short life span, that newness and urgency. So he's saying 'fuck that, not this time,' about them and about himself.

We're slowly ruling out different elements of The Reason, whatever it is, that Guillermo's convinced himself being a vampire is what he needs. His relationship with Nandor is frayed and needs to be rebuilt. He's closer to the others, but not so close he'd need to change his life for them. They no longer need his constant protection, and they get into plenty of trouble even with him there as a stopgap.

He's come out to his bio family and they support him, so it's not about being accepted as a gay man. (And it's becoming a vampire that could risk his relationship with his family, forever!) I think there's an element of sexual freedom, but he's taken steps to do that now without vampirism, and if anything his relationship with the vamps has impacted his chances to have these things. He's seen there are parts of life he's missing out on, that he could maybe achieve if he stepped away.

He knows his strength and his worth, his physical abilities. Hell, he could lose a lot of the power he has, if he goes from slayer to vampire. I don't think it's rooted in self-loathing, because we never really see him talk about himself as lacking. If anything he welcomes the opportunity to preen, he lays it on a little thick.

I thought for most of the season that with a normal life waiting in the wings, all ready for him to move back into it when the time was right, we were going to get him torn between that and the supernatural world. But Guillermo never seemed to have interest in leaving. He wasn't making plans to move in with Freddie or move back to London before the disaster happened, he wasn't using the stolen cash to scout out a new apartment. In Go Flip Yourself he was angling for a new improved bedroom.

What we keep seeing, over and over, is that Guillermo lives his life based on lies. He lives his life in compartments, curating himself for the situation he's in and the image he wants to convey. I think he truly is devoted, truly does take pleasure in acts of service for loved ones. But on the other side of that, he only gets what he wants by sneaking his way into it. Does anyone have a full picture of him? His family and Freddie can't by design. The vampires made it a point, up to now, to not care about his feelings or learn anything about him. Nandor's the only one who has even started to ask, and most of the time he doesn't think to.

("Don't you feel like nothing ever changes around here?")

But the vampires we meet, while they all have hidden depths, don't really have secret selves except for their species. They live mostly on the surface, impulsively and chasing pleasure. (I'd say at least for the Staten house, they also use it as a way to avoid thinking about things that are deeper or more painful.) They're unapologetic, and most important, they live selfishly. And the thing about being selfish is, it means being seen.

Guillermo is waiting for vampiric power, vampiric selfishness, to have the freedom to exist as a whole person

And the thing about that is: Guillermo is selfish at heart, absolutely. It's one of the reasons he'll make an excellent vampire. But one of his best traits is his empathy - for everyone, monsters included - and how much he truly wants to give to the people who matter to him. The whole thing about his photo hitting that line in opening? Is because Guillermo has to sacrifice 'hope and compassion' to get what he wants, but he's also never lacked for it. And the others are changing, he's the catalyst for their change, because of who he is and the influence he exerts on the stagnant, selfish world around them.

I don't think becoming a vampire magically takes empathy (or really any human trait) out of people. The new vampires we meet pretty much act like their old selves. Even Nadja's doll is just a younger version of her. I think vampiric craziness and selfishness is a result of immortal lifespans, and a life built on death, and a culture that seems to emphasize power and violence over connection to others - even when it works against them.

I'd still love for Guillermo to become a vampire, because I think he can bring that fresh perspective to the table. (Plus I think he and the vamps have plenty to teach each other, I don't want them to lose each other.) But isn't it interesting, that paradox of kindness and selfishness? That potential for Guillermo to embrace the most dangerous parts of himself? The chance that maybe, now, it'll be Guillermo's turn to fuck up - and for the others to remind him of what's still in his heart?

[thefudge]

We obviously need your opinion on the Succession finale (please)

it was pretty damn great!

it got very close to my ideal ending. i wanted the siblings out, or at least not having control over the company anymore, and i sort of/kind of got that. i knew kendall would be haunted by the loss, but i was pretty sure he'd live. i know some ppl were afraid he would die, i mean he does say as much to his siblings, but i had a feeling that wouldn't be the case, because kendall has to live. he has to live with this failure and with the life he took. he has to atone. kendall has always been a kind of dostoevskian figure, and the last shot of him tells us exactly that, that he will have to walk with his demons from now on.

if i thought anyone would die, i might've guessed roman, but i'm glad he was "freed" from the cage he had been trapped in since childhood. i do think that his spiteful comment about kendall's kids not being legitimate shows that he hasn't and will never let go of his father. roman will always be his most loyal son. it's just that now he has to figure out who he is, too. the truest thing he said this episode is that all of it, all of that fuss for the succession, is nothing, nothing but bullshit.

and shiv....oy vey. ok so i agree with all the posts decrying the bleak misogyny of it all and how shiv can only have power as wife and mother and how fucked up that is. that being said, the waters are too murky here. shiv was also ready to become logan 2.0. sure, she wouldn't have been as bad as kendall maybe. but she was willing to forego many beliefs and many people in order to secure that CEO spot. i'm sure she thinks she was the best for the job morally too, but ehhh. like, yes, it IS fucked up that all her power means nothing, after all, in this patriarchal system, but she was willing to prop up that system further. even after acknowledging the fact that her father couldn't entirely see women as people.

so i feel bad for her, but i'm also glad she made that choice, to, as others have said, "break the cycle" and not allow kendall to become logan and for roman to be further victimized. was there a thought in the back of her mind that if she voted yes, her husband would be made CEO and she'd get to rule via him? maybe, but i think shiv knows she no longer has the upperhand. she's the one who reached out first this episode and basically asked tom for a second shot at their marriage, and tom doesn't trust her. we saw how he reacted to her pregnancy, thinking it was a "move" against him. tom was honest with matsson, he IS hypervigilant.

so shiv's best option here is to divorce (and maybe get a big chunk out of whatever settlement they'd agree on) and remove herself from the equation, but the very human tragedy here is that she probably won't, because she has been doing this all her life, trying to please the men in her vicinity and show them she's worth it. maybe if she keeps hanging around she'll get to have a piece of the pie. one benefit of all this is i think shiv will come to understand her mother a lot better and maybe end up sympathizing with her. that being said, the tom/shiv dynamic was left on a fascinating cliffhanger, imo. very much nightmarish, but compelling.

it would be fascinating to get a "10 years later" glimpse of these characters. remember the siblings buying Pierce? what will happen to that? remember The Hundred? will Shiv try to make her kid the next successor? how soon will Tom get ousted as CEO? will he drop dead from exhaustion? will Ebba finally leave Matsson (lol)? and most importantly, will willa's new play be successful??? i need my girl to get her pulitzer.

anyway, this was one hell of a ride and i'm glad i was on it!

[starkeyslover]

Baby...

Luke (twdg) x f!reader

Warnings: Pure porn no real plot, unprotected p in v, rough sex, whiny Luke, creampie, Luke taking photo of reader, mention of sucking Luke off, cliffhanger, not proofread.

(NOT MY GIF!!)

"Common Baby, please. I need you so fucking bad." Luke whined put as she sat ontop of him. Her hands are rested on his bare chest as she rolled her hips to tease him. His hands rested on her hips having a firm grip, making his fingertips white.

" Why should I though? You look so handsome like this." She said with a smirk. He let out a groan as she said that. His hands move her hips just a bit, she didn't bother stopping him.

"Take a photo, then. It'll last longer." He responded back with a snicker. She let out a small laugh as she bit her lip. She wanted it just as much as him, she just hid it better. Lifting her hands off of Luke's chest she brings it to the hem of her shirt to take it off. She throws it to the side and looks down at look with a mischievous look.

" Can you take my bra off for me baby? I'm too tired to do it myself." She said in a innocence voice. Luke looks up to her with a raised eyebrow, knowing what she is doing. Even though he knew what she was doing he still did it. His hands left her hips and put them to the bed, lifting himself up. They both let out a moan as he shifted. He sat himself up and brought his hands behind her back to unclip her bra. A small smile forms on her lips as she grabbed his face with her too hands and brought him closer to her. Her breath grazed his lips, his hands unclip her bra and drag down her straps off of her shoulders slowly. Goosebumps form on her skin as a shiver ran down her spin. He closes the gap between them and crashed his lips onto hers. A squeal left her lips as he kissed her harshly. She kissed back as gripped onto his face, leaning him into her. Luke takes off her bra fully and tosses it to the side. His hands run up her sides before cupping both of her breasts in his large hands. A moan leaves her lips at the sudden contact. She could feel him smile agaisnt her lips before he pulled back. A string of saliva connected them.

"Fuckin' hell. I want to fuck you so hard right now." Luke whispered into her ear. A shiver ran down her spine. She leans towards his ear before opening her mouth. " Then do it, no ones going to stop you." She said back with a moan to follow behind. Before she could even pull back to look at him he has already flipped them both over to where she is laying on her back. Luke lifts both of her legs from around his waist to rest on his shoulders. He gave a quick peck to her ankle before thrusting fast and deep into her. A moan rips through her throat and she reaches out to Luke. Gripping onto his strong bicep she pulls him down towards her chest, making her legs go near her head for him to hit even deeper inside of her.

" Oh shi- baby-" Luke moans out at the sudden movement. Y/n grips onto his back, scratching his back down from his shoulder blades to the middle of his lower back. Luke bit into his lip at the feeling, the nice feeling of pain and pleasure. His favorite combo. His hips start to go faster, meaning his close. He didn't want to finish before. His hand goes up to his mouth to give his fingers a lick before bringing it down to rub fast circles on your clit.

" Luke! Oh shit Luke! Fuck yes-!" She cried out in pleasure. Her legs wrap tightly around Luke's waist to keep him even more closer.

" C-come inside-... please-!" She moaned keeping him close.

"Shit-! Baby I can't-" Luke moaned out as he put his face in the crook of you neck as you came. Your walls clenched him tight. Bringing him to his own release. He moans into her neck, shaking at the feeling of you sucking him dry. She shivers at the feeling of him filler her up to the brim. Luke pulls back and takes himself out of her. She moans at the sudden emptiness. Y/n closes her eyes, tired.

"Common her, baby." She mumbled to Luke with her arms open for him to snuggle up to her. She doesn't feel him come, confused she opens her eyes and sees Luke with a camera pointed towards her. Surprised she covers her eyes and let's out a laugh as Luke took the photo.

"Luke!!" She laughed out as she blushed in embarrassment.

" Y/nn!!" Luke mimicked with a laugh as he takes out the photo and shakes it for it to develop faster. He puts the camera to the side and crashes down beside her. She turns to rest her head on his chest and places her hand on his stomach.

" I better look cute in that photo" She jokes as she rolls over onto him, her chest on his chest as her legs went aroudn his waist.

" You look absolutely gorgeous, Y/n." Luke says. She can hear his smile laced in his voice she turns her head to look at the photo and sees herself completely fucked out. She smiles and turns back to snuggle her face into his neck. Inhaling his scent she kissed his collarbone.

" I love you, Luke" She whispered to him. His heart leaped in his chest when he heard those words. A huge smile forms across his face before opening his mouth.

" I love you too, Y/n." They layed there for a bit, tangled together just enjoying eachothers company. Suddenly she pulled back at looked back at Luke with a smile.

" I wanna give you head. You better take photos of me while I do that."

[bookshelf-dust]

i'm sticking these all in the same ask because my service is spotty

🖋️ angst with eddie (challenge: under 500 words >:)

📖 why you so cool?

🧸 tall mom-friend who acts older every day and will tell you off for getting off the couch for no reason (or phone obsessed slighty bitchy teenage girl you pick)

♥️ Eddie? like... but you're not together yet.

yes this is absolutely a challenge post and i kind of feel bad sorry

slumber party shenanigans

a/n: don’t you go feeling bad about this i appreciate the challenge!! also i’m gonna post 🖋️ separately so as to not make it like too much in one go. i hope that’s okay!! but just for the 500 words thing i’m leaving you with a cliffhanger and it’s gonna be as angsty as i can make it

————

📖 inquirers want to know—you can use this as a get-to-know-you kind of thing. ask anything you want to know about me! (given that it is not too nuts and you are considerate towards me, of course.)

it’s funny you ask that because i am not cool at all actually. i am a total loser. sorry to disappoint

🧸 teen beat—give me a little teeny description of yourself and i will tell you a character you remind me of from any universe i can think of or am particularly fond of

you’re reminding me of Zoya Nazyalensky from the Grishaverse book series, and Ziggy Berman from Fear Street but specifically 1978. that encapsulates all of the tall and slightly bitchy aspects. also love both of those characters just so you know.

♥️ blanket hog!—i’ll tell you what i think it’d be like to share a bed with someone from my list

went with best friend eddie for you :)

-makes you sleep on the side of the bed closest to the wall. he says it’s so he can protect you from intruders.

“Eddie, who the fuck do you think is going to break into your room?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? I’ve got loads of sick stuff in here.”

-sometimes the both of you will lay on your sides facing each other, and eddie will reach for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. you sleep just like that—holding hands.

-eddie starts off the night usually giving you plenty of space, but you always wake up in the wee hours of the morning with him half on top of you, splayed out so you literally can’t move. and he’s dead weight when he’s out, so you end up shoving him around and fussing at him until he moves.

“Eddie, move!” You say, your voice a whispered exclamation.

“What?” He’s not even slightly awake.

“I can’t breathe!” You shove at his arm and he groans, lifting his head from the pillows, his hair an absolute travesty of frizz everywhere.

“So what? I’m comfortable.”

-only has two pillows for himself so he bought another just for you. the first time you stayed over he gave you one of his. you both laid there, staring at each other in the dark before he said “This is so uncomfortable,” and started giggling.

-snuggles with you when you need it. tosses a heavy arm over your side and hugs you. tucks the covers in around your legs until you laugh and tell him to quit.

-drools. enough said.