#i am actually at work now which is why it's taken me ages to actually finish typing this

[planet-marz1]

Our Little Sheep

Summary: You and Joel celebrate christmas with your many children Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Word Count: ~4.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, implied age gap(not specified), reader is able to get pregnant, jackson!joel, peepaw!joel(really peepaw), mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of childbirth (nothing graphic), brief mentions of breastfeeding (again, nothing graphic) Lots of fluff & cuteness, Joel being a cute girl dad™, this seems like it should be a crackfic, but I promise It's so wholesome

A/N: Ok so this fic idea was born out of my cold medicine induced haze, so bear with me here guys. It's just a silly little fic, not meant to be taken seriously at all, and It's the most fun I've had writing in a bit, so I hope you enjoy reading! Just a little clarity here, the kids' ages range from 0 to 9. I know it gets all confusing here, so I am welcome to provide any further clarity if anyone needs it! A huge thank you to @catchallfangirl for helping with the naming of all of these gremlins & with the constant encouragement ❤️ Thank you to @fhatbhabie for beta reading!

lovely dividers by @pamasaur

| main masterlist | ao3 link | follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

You open your eyes slightly, squinting them. Joel sleeps peacefully next to you, his breaths even and steady. Burrowing yourself further under the blankets, you scoot closer to him, your head on his chest and intertwining your legs with his. You run your fingers through the curls of his now, fully gray hair.

Slight whines start to fill the room, and you lift your head up and glance over your shoulder to peek into the bassinet next to your side of the bed. Joel had been up with the baby all night after you two had finished wrapping up the gifts for the other kids. So, you groggily sit up in bed, reaching over to pick up the tiny little infant.

“Shhh, It’s alright, little one.” You whisper quietly, trying to calm him. After a few attempts to shush him, it’s still not working. He’s probably hungry, you figure. Lifting your shirt, you help him latch onto your breast, and he finally calms. You sigh quietly with relief. It’s all a part of the process, you try to remind yourself. Little baby Joelseph had only been born a few weeks ago. No, his name isn’t actually Joelseph. Simply a nickname given to him by his many older sisters when you had been pregnant with him. It started as a cute joke, but sure enough he came into the world, and no one was able to call him by his proper name. Named after his father, but considering the chaos of your family, the nickname is simply just another thing that you don’t bother to fight to keep the peace in the house.

The early hours of the morning are usually the small period of time when the house is completely silent. Every other waking minute is filled with the sounds of the kids, either giggling, or fighting with each other over something. Though, silence isn’t always a good thing. You’ll never forget the time the kids got into the kitchen cupboards and practically wreaked havoc in the kitchen while you were outside tending to the sheep.

Sure enough, you hear the trampling of footsteps coming down the hallway. No matter how chaotic it may be, this is your favorite part of the day. Getting to start each day greeted by all of your beautiful children, reminding you of why you are so lucky. You softly graze your fingers over the baby’s hair.

“I think your sisters are here, little guy,” You chuckle softly. The doorknob jiggles a bit. Before all of your daughters begin to spill into your bedroom, all eleven of them. Yes, eleven. You and Joel had, admittedly, gotten out of control in that department.

You and Joel had met when he had returned to Jackson in the spring with Ellie in tow. It had been an immediate connection, quite literally. Hooking up one night in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison, which is what led to your firstborn, Emilie. The pregnancy had come as a shock, but you and Joel were excited nonetheless.

A chorus of variations of “Mom,” or “Mommy,” begin to fill the room, and you try to shush the girls, reminding them of their little brother. “Ok, girls, I know that you’re excited to get downstairs to all of your gifts, but you’ve got to settle down a bit, alright?” You whisper gently. Finally, they all nod in understanding. The calm is short-lived, though. Jane and Jules, the cutest, but menacing pair of instigators, hop on to your bed, shaking Joel’s shoulder, trying to wake their father.

They were your fourth pregnancy, which was by far the most difficult one you had ever experienced. Constant discomfort, and sleepless nights from the relentless kicking and movement from them. It wasn’t the first time you had been pregnant with twins, but It had gone nothing like you had expected it to.

Joel, though typically a light sleeper, is particularly hard to wake after a night with no sleep, hence why you’d opted on letting him sleep in. The two of them, each on one side of him, lean in close to his face, leaving little room for personal space. “Daddy.” Jules says quietly, Jane keeping a close watch.

Joel peeks one eye open, a bit startled at first at the heavy breathing from the two girls so close to his face, but the confused expression on his face is quickly replaced by a tired grin. As soon as all the girls spot that their father has woken up, they all pile onto your bed, excitedly squealing and giggling. Luckily, little baby Joelseph had already been lulled into a deep sleep after he finished nursing. Even if he hadn’t, you're pretty sure the few short weeks he’s been in the world, he’s already used to the constant noise and chaos from his older sisters.

Joel sits up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and tries to wrap his arm as many of them as humanly possible.

“When can we open our presents, daddy?” Tiny little Aurora questions impatiently. This is the first year she’s been able to fully understand the concept of Christmas, and all the gift giving. So, understandably, she is ecstatic for all the festivities of the day. She crawls into his lap, after attempting to clamber over all of her sisters in the way. Joel scratches at the scruff of his beard, and lifts her into his lap.

“How about we all eat breakfast first, sweetheart, then you all can tear into your gifts.” He says lowly, his voice still laced with sleep. “Sound like a plan?” He asks. The girls all nod in agreement.

You slowly stand up from the bed, still cradling baby Joelseph in your arms. Walking towards the door, you gesture for the girls to do the same. They all climb off of the bed, and without fail, the house is once again filled with chaos. All eleven of them racing out of your bedroom, and down the staircase to the kitchen.

Joel meets you by the doorway, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Well hello, sleepyhead.” You tease him. “Sleep well?”

“Just like usual, darling.” He kisses you again, this time placing kisses all over your face, and down your neck, before you place your hand gently on his chest stopping him from going any further.

“Not so fast, old man.” you chuckle softly. “We don’t need another one of these.” you say, gesturing down to the baby bundled up in your arms.

“One more wouldn’t hurt, huh?” He teases, and you just shake your head. 

“You say that because you aren’t the one who has to push them out.”

“We should probably get downstairs before they get into stuff that they shouldn’t be” You murmur, and Joel quietly nods in agreement.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you make your way into the dining room. Joel follows you, his hand brushing against the small of your back.

You and Joel enter the dining room, and expectedly the room is already filled with screaming and chaos. Alive with the energy of your daughters, and the two mischievous kittens, Ginny and Joel, weaving in and out of the chaos. 

Emilie, your oldest, is trying to settle an argument between Lacy and Lily, your first set of twins. Nothing new in your household, nearly every morning, no matter how many times you have to tell them that every seat is the same, the kids insist on fighting on who sits where, who sits next to whom. It’s exhausting, but you can’t help but smile at the chaos unfolding before you-it’s simply the routine of your everyday life.

Emilie, with her stern expression, finally manages to resolve the seating dispute between Lacy and Lily. You glance at Joel, and he chuckles, a knowing look passing between you. The girls quickly settle into their chairs, the anticipation of Christmas morning evident in their sparkling eyes. As you take your seat at the head of the table, Joel sits beside you, and the cacophony gradually subsides. Little Aurora, perched on Joel’s lap, swings her legs excitedly, eager to dive into the festivities.

“Alright, everyone, let’s dig in!” you announce with a smile, and the room erupts in cheers. The aroma of the freshly cooked breakfast wafts through the air as the kids eagerly serve themselves.

Emilie diligently helps the younger ones with their breakfast. She occasionally steals glances at the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree, anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

Lacy and Lily are engaged in animated conversation, their excitement palpable. Daisy can’t stop giggling at something Theo whispered in her ear. The second set of twins, Jane and Jules, sit side by side, already plotting mischief as they eye the presents.

Willow, with her big curious eyes, is inspecting her plate with utmost concentration, trying to decide which part of her breakfast to tackle first.

In the midst of the laughter and chatter, you catch Joel’s eye. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent acknowledgement of the beautiful chaos that is your family. His gaze is filled with gratitude, and you can’t help but feel the same.

As the kids enjoy their breakfast, you steal a moment with Joel. “Can you believe how fast they're growing?” you murmur, your eyes dancing with a mixture of love and exhaustion.

Joel leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Feels like just yesterday we were sneaking around the Tipsy Bison.”

You laugh, the memory of that fateful night vivid in your mind. “Look where it led us.”

Kylie babbles incoherently as she attempts to mimic her older siblings. Aurora still sits on Joel’s lap, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the festive scene, and Joel aids her with her breakfast.

Maggie sits contentedly in her high chair, fingers sticky with syrup, as she munches on a piece of a pancake you’ve carefully cut up into small pieces for her.

The kids, fueled by excitement and sugar, chatter animatedly about their plans for the day. You and Joel exchange glances, both silently reveling in the joy of parenthood. The journey hasn’t been easy, but moments like these make it all worthwhile.

As breakfast winds down, you glance at Joel, both of you silently agreeing it’s time for the much-anticipated event of the morning.

The living room is now adorned with brightly wrapped gifts, a colorful display of the love and thoughtfulness you and Joel put into each one. The kids finish their breakfast, their eyes darting eagerly between the tree and the presents.

“Alright, kiddos, let the unwrapping begin!” Joel declares, and the room explodes with excitement. Each of their little faces lighting up with joy. 

“Okay, kiddos, let’s see what Santa brought us this year!” Joel exclaims, and the room erupts in cheers. The kids, now fueled by excitement from their furry friends and a hearty breakfast, rush to the tree, each claiming a spot around the mountain of gifts.

Emily takes charge, distributing gifts to each of her siblings with precision. Paper tears and laughter fill the air as each child discovers the treasures hidden beneath the wrapping.

Lacy and Lily eagerly tear into their presents, sharing excited glances when they unveil matching toys. Daisy clutches a doll close to her heart, and Jane and Jules giggle in delight at the surprise in their packages.

Theo, wide-eyed, unwraps a superhero action figure, and Willow discovers a fluffy stuffed animal that instantly becomes her new best friend. Kylie is overjoyed with a set of building blocks, her imagination already running wild.

Aurora claps her hands in glee as she unwraps a musical toy, and Maggie, though more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts, coos happily.

Daisy twirls with a new dress, her face glowing with delight. “I’m going to wear this everyday!”

Aurora, surrounded by a pile of toys, claps her hands and points excitedly. “Look, Daddy, Mommy, so many toys!” Maggie, with a new plush toy in her tiny hands, giggles with joy. The room is filled with laughter and chatter as the kids excitedly showcase their new treasures.

Jane and Jules squeal in delight as they discover Joel curled up in the tangle of discarded wrapping paper, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Willow, with her big curious eyes, watches the kittens in fascination, occasionally reaching out to stroke their fur. Kylie bursts into giggles as Ginny playfully bats at a shiny ribbon. Aurora claps her hands in delight at the sight of the playful duo. Maggie points with chubby fingers, her face lighting up with a smile as Joel gracefully leaps onto the back of the couch.

Joel catches your eye, and you share a moment of warmth as you witness the joy on your children’s faces.

“Looks like our little fur balls are the stars of the show today.” He chuckles.

Watching as the kittens continue their playful antics. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of excitement, and the crinkling of wrapping paper.

As the chaos subsides, you lean into Joel, watching the kids with a contented smile. “Merry Christmas, Joel.” He whispers back the same sentiment, wrapping his arm around you, anchoring you in the midst of the joyful storm that is your family.

The room buzzes with the joyous laughter of your children, the kittens weaving throughout the living room. As the kids continue to show off their presents, Ginny and Joel curiously inspect the colorful array of toys and trinkets scattered across the room.

Emilie, your eldest, sits by your side, flipping through her new sketchbook. “Mom, look at this! It’s perfect for my drawings. Thank you, Santa!”

Lacy and Lily, wearing their matching necklaces, approach Joel with enthusiasm. “Dad, Dad! Can Joel play with us too?” they ask, extending an invitation for the adventurous kitten to join in on their imaginative play.

Daisy twirls around in her new dress, and with a dramatic flair, she curtsies. “I’m a princess, just like in the stories!”

Jane and Jules, holding their new board game, insist on a family game night. Jules, gives you a confused look, glancing from the box, and then back up at you. “What is Boggle anyway?” 

“It’s just a word game, sweetheart, definitely an easy game to beat your dad at.” you laugh softly, shooting Joel a teasing grin.

Willow proudly shows you the fluffy stuffed animal she received. “Look Mom, It’s Fluffy! Daddy, feel how soft!” She grabs his hand to place it on the stuffed animal, and Joel enthusiastically plays along with her.

Kylie, engrossed in building her tower with the new blocks, beams with accomplishment. “It’s bigger than me, Mommy!” You smile at her gently, and give her compliments on her tower building skills.

Maggie, in her own little world, squeezes her plush toy and gurgles happily. The kittens, sensing the playful atmosphere, join in on the fun, batting at the discarded ribbons and chasing each other around the room.

Joel, still basking in the warmth of the family scene, leans over to you. “Seems like Santa knew exactly what they wanted.”

You nod, a content smile playing on your lips, ‘And the best part is seeing their faces light up with joy.”

The room is filled with laughter, the sound of wrapping paper being crinkled, and the occasional meow from Ginny and Joel. The chaos is harmonious, a melody of love and togetherness that defines your family.

The kids, their excitement undeterred, start brainstorming plans for the day–games to play, stories to tell, and perhaps a snowball fight if the weather permits. As the festivities continue, you can’t help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that fills your home–a treasure more precious than any gift under the tree.

As the kids reveled in the excitement of unwrapping their Christmas gifts, their attention turned to the chalkboard on the mantle–a poignant memorial to their older sister, Sarah. The room hushed momentarily as the children exchanged thoughtful glances, understanding the significance of the chalkboard.

The kids had put together some artwork and drawings the night before. They gather around the chalkboard, placing their artwork in front of it, creating a beautiful display of love and remembrance. The room, now adorned with their heartfelt tributes, felt infused with a sense of warmth and connection to Sarah’s memory.

Joel, watching from a distance, can't help but be moved by the sincerity and creativity of his children. The simple act of setting their drawings in front of the chalkboard transformed the mantle into a gallery of love—a tangible expression of the enduring impact Sarah's memory had on their hearts.

As the morning continued, the drawings stood as cherished tokens—a beautiful reminder that, even in the midst of joyous celebrations, the love for their sister would always hold a special place in the family's heart.

You nudge Joel gently, catching his attention. “Any Idea when Ellie, Dina, and JJ are planning to arrive?”

Joel looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the room to make sure all the kids are engaged in their newfound treasures. “They’re aiming to get here just in time for lunch. Should be any moment now.”

Excitement lights up on your face at the news. “The kids are going to be over the moon to see them again, and It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

Joel nods in agreement, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Ellie’s always been good at timing. They’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, a gentle knock at the door catches your attention. You glance at Joel, both of you sharing a knowing smile. The anticipation in the room heightens as the kids, sensing something special, look toward the door with wide eyes. Moments later, the front door bursts open, and the lively chatter of Ellie and Dina fills the air. The children squeal in delight, dropping their toys and rushing toward the doorway. Ellie enters first, holding JJ’s hand, Dina follows closely behind with a warm grin on her face.

The kids shout at them in unison, enveloping the new arrivals in a sea of hugs and excitement. You and Joel stand back, watching the heartwarming reunion unfold.

Ellie, catching your eye, gives you a knowing nod. “Merry Christmas!” she says as she greets you and Joel. You welcome them with open arms, a surge of joy filling your heart. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

As the laughter and joyful chaos continue to fill the room, you can’t help but marvel at the beautiful tapestry of your family, woven together by love, shared moments, and the bonds that withstand the test of time.

Amidst the joyful commotion, you navigate through the sea of excited children, still cradling little Joelseph in your arms. Joel joins you, and together you watch as Ellie, Dina, and JJ immerse themselves in the holiday cheer.

Ellie, after receiving an enthusiastic welcome from the kids, approaches you with a playful grin.

“How’s the newest little troublemaker doing?” she asks, casting an affectionate glance at Joelseph.

You chuckle, gently rocking the sleeping baby in your arms. “He’s been an angel all morning, surprisingly.” you yawn, tiredly.

Dina joins the conversation, “He’s gotten so big since we last saw him. Mind if we steal him for a bit?”

You nod with a smile, carefully passing Joelseph over to Dina. The little one stirs for a moment, but settles back into a peaceful slumber in Dina’s arms. “He’s all yours.’

The room continues to buzz with giggles and Ellie, Dina, and JJ become a seamless part of the festivities. The kids eagerly show them their new toys, and soon, the kittens, Ginny and Joel join the playful parade.

As the day unfolds, the house becomes a vibrant canvas, painted with the hues of love and togetherness. Joel, now with Aurora on his shoulders, navigates through the lively crowd. You find a quiet moment with Ellie, who is holding Joelseph with a tender smile.

“He’s adorable,” Ellie remarks, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and affection. “Feels like just yesterday you were dealing with my teenage antics.”

You laugh, remembering those not-so-distant days. “Time flies, doesn’t it? Now look at us, and you, with a little family of your own.”

Ellie glances around the room, the sparkle of the holiday lights reflecting in her eyes. “Couldn’t ask for a better way to spend Christmas. And look at Joel, still being the heart and soul of this chaos.”

You follow her gaze to Joel, who is now surrounded by a group of kids, listening intently to one of Jane and Jules’ stories. The love in his eyes is evident as he shares in their laughter and mischief.

Ellie looks back at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You both did an amazing job. I’m proud to be part of this.”

And in that moment, as the laughter and warmth of your family envelop you, you couldn’t agree more. This Christmas, with all its magic, has woven another chapter into the rich tapestry of your lives–a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the cherished moments that make your family truly extraordinary.

As the festivities continue, Ellie, still cradling Joelseph, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Joel. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she approaches Joel, who’s now attempting to disentangle himself from a knot of kids.

“Hey, old man,” Ellie quips, giving Joel a playful nudge. “You holding up okay with all these little rascals running around?”

Joel chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. “Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in check. You’ll find out soon enough, Ellie. Parenthood’s no joke.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Joelseph. “You’re the expert now, huh? It took you guys long enough to figure out the secret recipe for a baby boy.”

Joel grumbles and feigns offense. “Well, it’s not like we had a manual.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who needed a football team's worth of daughters before finally getting a son.”

You join in on the banter, giving Joel an amused smile. “Took a bit of trial and error, but look at our charming little Joelseph now.”

Ellie leans in, bouncing the baby gently in her arms. “Not bad for an old guy, huh, kiddo?” she cooed, earning a content gurgle from the baby.

As the day of joyful chaos begin to wind down, the once lively house now settles into a more serene atmosphere. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree cast a gentle glow over the living room as the laughter of the children gradually transforms into quiet giggles and yawns.

You and Joel, tired but content, herd the kids upstairs for their bedtime routine. The kittens, Ginny and Joel, follow along, their playful antics slowing down as they, too, sensing the impending calm.

“Alright kiddos, time for bed.” Joel announces, his tone gentle but firm as he ushers the kids into their respective rooms.

The procession of bedtime rituals unfold–one by one, teeth are brushed, pajamas are put on, and stories are read. The younger ones nestle into their beds, eyelids growing heavy with the sweet fatigue of a day filled with excitement.

As you check on each child, offering goodnight kisses and tucking them in, Joel moves gracefully through the house, turning off the twinkling lights and closing curtains. The house seems to exhale, the echoes of joyous laughter replaced by the hushed whispers of bedtime.

In the quiet moments between putting the kids to bed, you found Joel in the hallway, sharing a look of satisfaction passing between you. The day had been a whirlwind of love and joy, and now the peaceful hush settles over the house like a comforting blanket.

“Another Christmas for the books,” Joel remarks, his voice low.

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “And many more to come, I hope.”

The two of you continue the nightly routine, gently closing doors and ensuring the house was ready for the calm of night. The soft glow of the light spilling from your bedroom illuminates your path as you and Joel make your way into the room, where little Joelseph lay sleeping in his bassinet.

Joel pauses by the doorway, his eyes fondly watching the baby. “He’s been the best gift, hasn’t he?”

You nod, a warmth settling in your heart. “The best, indeed.”

The day had been a symphony of chaos and joy, a beautiful crescendo that had now found its resolution in the quietude of the evening. As you and Joel retire to your room, you can’t help but reflect on the blessings of family, love, and the precious moments that make Christmas truly magical.

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[empressgetou]

A GIFT

husband poseidon x wife goddess reader

posiedon may be called as the most fearsome god or the god of gods or the tyrant of the sea, but all these titles meant nothing when it comes to his wife. y/n would call it as a facade considering that his attitude is the complete opposite of what the gods known him for.

the king of the seas had met his better half way back when he was still a boy. whenever he would visit the library of valhalla he somehow catches her just around the corner reading quietly all alone.

days turned into weeks that turned into months of visiting the library, he never misses her innocent figure by that very corner who seems to be on her own world. then one particular day, she finally approach him making his heart skip a beat by her voice.

"excuse me, lord posiedon. i don't want to interrupt you but i wanted to borrow the book you have got there since i wanted to finish the novel i am currently reading." she asked politely. little did she know, posiedon has taken interest of what the girl has been reading these past few days and have read in advance to finish the book first.

her voice it sounds alluring, as if the sirens were to hypnotize the humans in the ocean. he thought.

he nodded in response and gave the book. well he already finished the novel might as well let her borrow it.

"it is quite a surprise that my lord has taken interest in these types novels?" she then closely leaned into his side.

"would you mind if i seat here beside you? i'd like to know what your thoughts on this right after i read."

"no, but are you comfortable being with me?"

"hmm? why shouldn't i, my lord? as long as you're not feeding me to your piranhas back at atlantis then i dont mind." she innocently giggled as if there were no rumours of the young prince going around. not that she knows about those, the young goddess is too busy to gossip with the other young ones her age.

and with that interaction started their romance. with millions and millions of years have gone by and the gods have been happily married to each other, they are also known to be one of the most powerful couple in valhalla. with the two of them working together nothing seems to stop them. y/n being the goddess of healing and peace and poseidon being the god of the seas and waters sounded terrifying for the humans even for the gods. and with y/n's every step bringing happiness along the way there will always be poseidon following closely to him who keeps other gods or humans especially intimidated which results to y/n scolding him back at their place.

and just like any other day in the kingdom of atlantis, y/n all by herself in their very own library reading peacefully was cut off when a knock was heard.

"i'm home." said by a gentle voice.

"you're back home early, my beloved. did something happened?", y/n replied as she rose from her seat and greeted his husband with a light kiss.

"that half human happened. the gods have agreed to that filthy woman to have a fight between humanity and us gods, a ragnarok." he said full of frustration in his face.

she guided him to seat and ease his anger.

"i'm sure brunhilde has her reasons as to why she had done this, after all she is still a part of their kind."

"what made you upset?"

"i do not wish to participate in their foolish games. i am a god that is nowhere near a humans ability to reach and they dare try and compete with me? that is unacceptable!"

"you could withdraw from it if you don't wish to join them"

"the pantheon has already decided. no matter. i shall win of course those humans will not be in my way."

currently, zeus and adam fighting in the arena with a time of 5 minutes now. y/n seated beside his husband watching from the booth with hermes and other gods. they were informed beforehand that poseidon were to battle after his brother. y/n was anxious, not because of the fight she knew his husband was capable of defeating them, it was actually her secret that she may have been keeping from his husband a little while now. he looked at her and this made poseidon think that his wife was worried about him.

with now adam defeated by zeus, poseidon stood up and y/n following him by the back door.

"i'll be back this won't take long, my love." he said while cupping her face and his voice with no trace of arrogance but rather a soft one.

"i'll cheer you on, husband. and when you are done, there is something i'd like to tell you." this made poseidon curious.

is this why she had been spacing out lately? he thought.

she then kissed him good luck and said her i love you's.

during the battle y/n remained uneasy, kojiro sasaki is indeed a good swordsman with his skills and speed no doubt that he would've defeated a god. but not this god, posiedon managed to be much quicker to attack than sasaki's. and with that it ends as the god of the seas declared winner of the match. making it a score of 3 and the humans 0.

y/n stood up and rushed down into the doors going to the arena meeting his husband on the dimmed alley. posiedon caught by surprise his wife rushing towards him with open arms.

"i was worried about you! i glad it is over now!" she hugged him tight as if the world depends on it.

"i told you i would be back, though it did took me a while to finish." he could hear her quiet sniffles and decided to just walk off to the infirmary still holding her like a baby supporting her back with his right hand and her bottom with his other hand.

as soon as they were inside the room, he seated her beside him while the aids have come to heal the injured god.

"leave us, my wife shall take care of this." declared the god and were left to be alone with his spouse.

y/n did not hesitate and began her healing magic while doing so she could not help whether it is the perfect time to tell his husband of what she have been keeping these days. poseidon knowing his wife like the back of his hand can feel her uneasiness and decided to ask.

"there is something you wanna tell me." that made y/n taken aback a bit. no doubt that his husband would notice much sooner. she is not the type that keeps secrets after all, the goddess is more of an open book to poseidon.

"remember, i have something i'd like to tell you after you have finished your fight?" he nodded urging her to continue.

"i only found out recently and had been trying my best to keeping it for myself." she giggled.

"hera has spoke to me the other day when we were at the pantheon. she told me that eileithyia has informed her that i am with... a child." that made poseidon's world stop.

a child? he thought. they both have been trying for an offspring quiet some time now. he would always watch merfolks back at antlantis with their young ones. with their cute little fins and soft features and loud laughter's, no wonder the king of the seas would want one his own.

he pulled her towards him and hugged her tight depending his massive size into her delicate body. he would've bursted into tears if it weren't for her chuckle.

"i'm guessing you are happy with the news i brought, my love?"

"happy? no, no not just happy, dear. i am thrilled that we are finally able to have a child on our own." he looked deep into her eyes and kissed her passionately.

"thank you. this is the most precious gift that you have given me." he continued while still holding her close to his chest.

"we have been trying my husband, i'm glad that the goddess of labour has bestowed us such gift."

"although you are still horrible at keeping such secrets, i keep noticing you fidgeting from time to time." he smirked making y/n lightly smacking his chest.

"i love you, my dearest. and our child as well." he said with with full adoration while trying to hold his nonexistent baby bump.

"i love you much more, my husband."

masterlist

"now, let's fix that hair of yours hmm? it does not look too good after that swordman cut if off unequally." she laughed when she noticed it, that's because his hair can and only be touched by his wife and no other beings. that is when poseidon realized his hatred with humanity once more.

[juniperskye]

Without You

Sneak Peek: Aaron and you have been dating for over a year now…the thing is, the BAU team has no idea. When Aaron does something reckless that could cost him his life, will you expose the relationship you have worked so hard to keep under wraps?

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2371

Warnings: One use of y/n, age gap, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack, some language, canon typical violence, mentions of death, explosion, BAU case details (similar to those of s7e23), severe emotional pain, mentions of Haley’s death, mention of Jack, secret relationship, JJ is still the media liaison (it just fit better for the plot) if I missed any – let me know!

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron Hotchner had very quickly become your best friend. Your friendship had come so naturally, despite a pretty significant age gap. After two years of what could only be described as painfully obvious yearning from both parties, Aaron finally gained the courage to ask you to dinner. Even though it took two weeks before you could actually act on that invitation, the date had gone better than expected. Aaron had been a perfect gentleman; bringing you flowers, opening your door, holding your hand, paying for your meal, actually listening when you spoke.

That’s why it had been so easy to fall in love with him. Things with Aaron truly had been effortless, falling into a comfortable routine in which you would drive to his place after work, relieve the babysitter, get Jack started on homework while you got dinner going. Since meeting Jack, back before you’d even begun dating Aaron, you were one of his favorite people. You had spoiled Jack since you’d met the boy, he was just so sweet, and he’d reminded you of your nephews…it was easy to spend time with him. Aaron would come home to Jack helping set the table and you plating up the food. He’d wrap you up in an embrace and the three of you would sit and enjoy your meal while discussing how your days went (mostly Jack talking about school).

The one thing in your relationship that had not been effortless was keeping it a secret from your team. There had already been much speculation as to whether or not Aaron and you had feelings for one another amongst the agents. Dave was the one who pestered Aaron the most, constantly encouraging him to take a chance on love, that it wouldn’t always end like it had with Haley. In your case it had been Penelope, she and you had grown close over your time at the BAU, and she could see the tell-tale signs of a blossoming crush for your superior.

The two of you hadn’t initially planned to hide your relationship, but after many late-night conversations about it and a lengthy pros and cons list, you had determined, for the time being, keeping things quiet was the best option. That was nearly eleven months ago. You and Aaron had been together for about a year and a half, living together for four months…things had not been easy. You guys had to work hard to keep your feelings at bay on tough missions. There had been an instance of you getting stabbed by an unsub, thankfully the wound was superficial, and you were fine, but it had taken everything in Aaron not to run to you and take you into his arms. That was one of many hardships you had faced, but none of those would have prepared you for today.

A call had come in to the BAU at 9:53 am. The call rang to Aaron’s direct line, which meant it was a time sensitive case, usually a child abduction or in this case, a hostage situation. Aaron came out of his office swiftly, calling everyone’s attention without even speaking.

“There is a hostage situation at First Union bank. We’ve been called in by Virgina PD, who is already on the scene and SWAT is currently on their way as well. Everyone needs to gather their things and head to the garage” Aaron gave his orders, and everyone sprang into action.

As you all made your way to the government issued SUVs, Aaron continued briefing everyone and he gave out assignments.

“Alright Garcia and Reid, I want you two in the mobile command unit digging into our unsubs, we need to identify them. JJ, I need you to control the media with this, I don’t want any details getting out without my approval. Morgan and Prentiss go check in with SWAT and go over our plan. Y/N and Dave you will take point on the negotiations. Understood?” Aaron looked to everyone for confirmation.

There were collective nods, and everyone went to their separate posts to get started. You and Dave made your way over to one of the command center tents, discussing with the officers there that you would be in charge of the negotiations. They filled you in on what had happened thus far, and you worked to devise your initial approach. Dave and you had made contact with the unsubs, they were demanding a helicopter and one million dollars (a truly ridiculous request on their part). Approximately fifteen minutes later, Garcia and Reid rushed to where you, Dave and Aaron were standing.

“We have identified the unsubs! The two men are brothers, Michael and James Snyder. They are connected to at least eight other bank robberies around the northeastern United Staes. The woman, her name is Katiya Kuznetsov she is not connected to the robberies, but she is flagged under the FBI’s most wanted. She’s thought to be the mastermind behind dozens of explosions in North America from the last nine months.” Garcia explained. Aaron radioed to request the bomb squad.

“Why would she be working with these two? Robbing banks isn’t quite the same M.O. as blowing up buildings.” You questioned.

“We looked into it, and it seems that she may have connections to someone who owns a safety deposit box at this bank. We don’t know what is in it, but we were able to narrow down the list of potentials.” Reid answered.

“This changes things, we need to get in there and apprehend them. We need to get the civilians out. I think our best option would be for us to breach with SWAT and local PD.” Aaron explained.

“Hotch, that seems a little drastic don’t you think? If we just barge in there, who’s to say they don’t just start shooting the hostages. Dave and I were making progress and now that we know who they are, perhaps we can get them to break.” You could feel your anxiety eating away at you, the thought of Aaron barging in there terrified you.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with Aaron on this one. We were making some progress, but not enough and given this new information, I think it is safe to assume that there is probably a bomb in the bank somewhere, the sooner we get the hostages out, the better.” Rossi shut your idea down.

You could feel the bile rising up your throat. Your palms were starting to sweat and your pulse quickening. You knew what was about to happen, Aaron was going to give out assignments which meant he was diving headfirst into danger while he ensured your safety.

“Alright here’s what we will do, Morgan and I will go in the front, try to talk the unsubs down. Prentiss and Reid you will go through the back, with SWAT and the bomb squad try to locate the explosive and disable it. Garcia, I want you to keep eyes inside the bank the whole time, keep us posted of everything you see through comms. Dave and you can stay out here and monitor the phones, I want you to call in to distract them while we enter, I think it might buy us some leeway.” Aaron gave the assignments.

You gave Aaron a pointed look, one that expressed all of your nerves and anxiety. He looked back at you, it was stern as far as any onlooker could tell, but you could see the softness flash across his features. He was silently telling you that everything would be okay, and for a moment, you believed that it would be.

Time seemed to slow then. Everyone was moving, following orders hastily. But you, you were glued to your spot…Dave’s hand on your shoulder is what finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

“He’ll be okay kid.” Dave tried to soothe your nerves.

You called into the bank to try and steal the attention of the unsubs as Aaron had requested, all the while agents were moving through the bank. Suddenly Garcia’s voice rang over the comms.

“One of the unsubs slipped away. I’m assuming to get to the explosive. I am working to get the blueprints of the bank so we can figure out where it is set up.” Garcia rushed.

Gunshots echoed through the air, the comms were buzzing with shouts from Aaron, Morgan, Prentiss, Dave and some other voices you couldn’t pin down.

The fact that you could hear Aaron’s voice helped to calm your nerves as he clearly hadn’t been shot. His next words soothed your mind even more so.

“We have Michael and James in custody, Morgan is walking the hostages out now. I am going to go and assist the others in finding Katiya and the explosive.” Aaron called over the comms.

Dave could see you tense at Aaron’s words; he once again laid his hand on your shoulder in hopes to ease your mind. Morgan walked over to you and Dave after placing the unsubs in the police cars that were standing by.

What happened next brought your world crashing down.

The silence over the comms had been eerie. Everything paused and then it happened. The bank had exploded, right before your eyes. You had been far enough away that the blast hadn’t knocked you over, but it still left your ears ringing.

Had Morgan and Dave’s ears not already been ringing they definitely would have been after the scream that ripped through your body.

“NOO!!!!!” You screamed.

You couldn’t form a coherent thought; you sobbed and lurched your body forward in hopes of going to find Aaron. Before you could make it three steps, Morgan had his arms around your waist holding you back. He turned you around and held you while you pounded your fists against his chest.

“Sweetheart you can’t go in there. I know we have people in there and waiting for them to get out is going to feel like an eternity. But until we get any sort of confirmation, we need to try and stay positive.” Morgan explained.

Garcia and JJ joined you, Dave and Morgan, tears streaming down their faces, all of them silently hoping your team family would make it out unscathed.

You could feel it coming on, the more time had passed. Your breaths were shallow, body clammy, your vision was going blurry, you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright. Dave was the one to notice and lead you away from the group, he held your hands and was saying something about you needing to match his breathing.

“Dave I…I c-can’t. W-what if he doesn’t make it out? I w-would d-die without him Dave!” You hiccupped.

“He’s going to make it out. But remember that you are strong and no matter what happens you will make it through this.” Dave reminds you.

“No! Dave, you don’t understand without Aaron, sure, the rain would fall, the children would play, the tides would change but I-I would die.” You looked away from Dave momentarily “I die without you.” You whispered.

You saw heads start turning in the direction of the alleyway that was adjacent to what was once the bank, as you followed suit, the bile returned – easing its way up your throat.  A body bag, with no other signs of Aaron. Your mind jumped to the worst-case scenario and your legs finally gave out. Dave tried to catch you as you fell to the ground, another gut-wrenching sob ripping its way through you.

You didn’t register the loss of Dave’s arms around your shoulders, not until he moved to pull you up off the ground and turn you in the direction of the group of agents making their way towards you. You tried to protest, telling Dave that nothing mattered anymore, until he physically turned your chin towards them.

“Aaron?” It came out as an exhale, below a whisper.

“Aaron?” This time was a bit louder, gaining your voice back.

“Aaron!” A shout this time as you could see his eyes scanning the crowd for you.

His gaze snapped to you as you ran towards him, looking him over to ensure that he is unharmed before you launch yourself into his arms. He lifted you fully and allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, he could feel your tears soaking the collar of his shirt. He gently shushed you assuring you that he was okay and that everyone was safe.

“T-the b-body bag, I-I thought it. I thought it was you, Aaron.”

“It was Katiya, she was trying to detonate it when we found her, we had just enough time to get to some sort of vault, but when it went off, the debris trapped us in. Honey, I am so sorry I scared you. I’m alright though, not even a scratch.” Aaron brushed his hand over the back of your head as you brought your feet back to the ground.

He looked into your eyes, he could tell that your brain was trying to process everything, all the emotions you had just been feeling, along with the relief you must be feeling now. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that said I was terrified of losing you but we’re safe and here together now. As he pulled away, you rested your foreheads against one another’s.

You knew that there would be tons of questions from the team but honestly in this moment you couldn’t care less because Aaron was safe and back in your arms. This moment that you were sharing allowed a few things to become clear for you and Aaron. You knew that he was the one for you, nobody else, and you were sure you wouldn’t survive losing him. He came to realize that it was time for him to pull that ring from the back of his sock drawer and finally ask you for forever, he thought that maybe it was time for him to step back and take that promotion Strauss had continuously offered. All he knew was that he couldn’t risk what you two had. Without you…he couldn’t even finish the thought because that wasn’t even an option.

[elficially-done-with-life]

Hundred Years Ago

Pairing: Haldir x Reader

Summery: Haldir wants to ask you an important question, but you two are interrupted.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Will we be there soon?" you asked with feigned impatience.

Haldir snorted in amusement: "Can't wait, can you?"

"No." you admitted. You really wished you could see something, but Haldir was very thorough in covering your eyes. "I finally want to know what you are making such a secret about. You even took the day OFF! Until two days ago, I was sure you did not even know how to do that."

"Oh, shut up," you could hear from his voice that he was grinning. Then you felt him gently press his lips to the tip of your ear. "Do not worry, Meleth nîn, we will be right there."

Haldir had been very secretive for the past few days, sometimes whispering quietly with his brothers, but would stop talking when you were within earshot.

At first you didn't think anything of it, but you were very interested in what they were talking about.

When Haldir took the day off from his duties, you were sure that something was up.

And now he was leading you to a 'mysterious place'. Whether it was really that mysterious you didn't know, but as he covered your eyes you had no idea where you were going.

Suddenly he stopped and said: "Ready?"

"Of course!" you said excitedly and he carefully took his hands away from your eyes, and you couldn't help but notice that they were shaking a little.

It took a while for your eyes to find out where you were.

Spread out on the ground in front of you was a large picnic blanket with a huge basket on top, which, judging by the smell, was filled with all your favourite treats.

You were in a clearing that you knew only too well. "This is where we met for the first time!"

Haldir nodded. "Exactly one hundred years ago."

"What?" you asked in surprise and turned to face him. To your surprise, his cheeks were slightly flushed, which was a little unusual for Haldir.

"Exactly one hundred years ago," he repeated, "we met here for the first time."

"You mean when you nearly shot me with one of your arrows?" you replied, smiling gently. That he had actually thought of that was incredible.

"I thought you were an orc." Haldir only replied. "You were walking around far too close to the borders. Be glad I did not have such a good aim back then," he leaned forward so that you could feel his breath on your lips as he said, "I would not miss my target today."

He was probably expecting you to playfully punch him in the side or come up with a counter-argument, but he had surprised you today, so you wanted to surprise him too.

You quickly leaned forward and before Haldir could react, your lips had already captured his in a gentle kiss.

Haldir returned the kiss and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you tighter against him, while the fingertips of his other hand glided over your spine.

Eventually he pulled away from you again and nodded towards the picnic blanket. "How about we sit down and eat something."

The food tasted delicious, and you knew from the first bite you took that Haldir must have made it all himself. It had probably taken ages.

You loved the food your beloved made, but unfortunately you couldn't eat it that often because he always had to work.

"I am really surprised that you remember exactly which day we met. I have to admit that I remember the year but I could not have told you the day," you admitted.

Haldir laughed softly. "I could not either. Orophin still knew. He accompanied me here for the first time because he was finally old enough to learn how to handle a bow and arrow."

You remembered well. Both of Haldir's brothers had been quite young at the time and he had cared for them since the death of their parents. One of the reasons why you had practically helped raise them after you two had become close.

"Then I guess I will have to thank him later," you said playfully and winked at him.

Haldir shrugged his shoulders. "He only provided the date, but I was planning to come here with you anyway." Suddenly his voice became a little quieter, almost uncertain. "I wanted to ask you a really important question."

He swallowed and put his plate aside, then reached for your hand. "Meleth nîn, I- "

But something interrupted him. Just as he was about to get to the question you were dying to know, there was a rustling in a bush not far from you.

Haldir jumped up and stood protectively in front of you. He pulled a knife from his sleeve, which he always had there, whether he was working or not, so that he wouldn't be unarmed in an emergency.

"Who is there?" he asked loudly, his eyes fixed on the bush.

You held your breath.

Then two elves you knew all too well poked their blond heads out of the bush. Orophin and Rùmil.

"You did not ask her!" Rùmil said indignantly and grimaced. "Do you know how uncomfortable it is to hide in a bush? We were here a few minutes before you and now we haven't even seen the big moment."

Haldir put the knife away again and massaged his forehead. "You two really are- "

"Besides, I contributed more than just the date," Orophin said to you with a pompous look, "I also chose the picnic basket! I borrowed it from Lord Celeborn, you have no idea how many he has lying around because he goes on picnics with Lady Galadriel all the time!"

You could hardly stifle your giggles as relief washed over you. For a moment you thought you were going to have to fight an orc or a wild animal.

Orophin and Rumil now climed out from the undergrowth of the bush with some difficulty and went over to you.

"Some stupid root cut me." Rùmil cursed.

"Serves you right." Haldir grumbled, but you could see his eyes immediately moving up and down his brothers body to see if he was seriously injured. Since he apparently wasn't, Haldir gave him an angry look.

Since his brothers obviously realised that they couldn't simply talk their way out of it, they turned to you with a nervous smile. "You are happy to see us, right?"

You gave Haldir a sideways glance before grinning back. "I am always happy to see you. But there are sometimes very inopportune moments, you know?"

They blushed and nodded cautiously.

Haldir rubbed his face with the hand he had just used to massage his temple.

"We will talk about it later," he finally said, turning to his brothers. "Go now."

Slowly, he let himself sink back onto the picnic blanket.

"I am sorry." he whispered, "I do not know if you still- "

You put a hand on his arm and gently pressed your lips to his cheek. "I would love to hear your question."

"We have known each other for a hundred years now," he began nervously, placing his hand under your chin so that you could look each other in the eye. "Would you do me the honour of courting you?"

Excitement rose in you and it took a few seconds before you were even able to form an answer in your head.

You couldn't believe he had actually asked that! No wonder his brothers had made such a fuss.

Meanwhile, Haldir's face looked very strained and only now did you realise that you still hadn't answered him.

A broad grin spread across your face and you said in a voice trembling with excitement: "There is nothing I would enjoy more."

Haldir slowly pulled you close and together you snuggled up on the picnic blanket under the stars.

When it was already very late, you made your way back.

Haldir carried the basket while you tucked the rolled-up blanket under your arm.

At first he had insisted on carrying both, but when you said you couldn't possibly leave everything to your future husband, he blushed and gave you the picnic blanket.

When you arrived home, all you wanted to do was fall into bed, but when you opened the front door, Haldir's brothers came to meet you.

"Now you are breaking into our house too," he said, but you could tell from the grin on his lips that he didn't hold it against them.

His brothers also seemed to have noticed the grin and with an excited squeal they ran towards you with open arms. "She said yes!"

[theminecraftbee]

[writing found in a floating temple belonging to an unknown player on a distant server. while there were no signs of life in the temple, there were signs of life in the caves below it, including some rusted armor sets, complicated machinery overgrown by birch saplings, and a small robot with a tag on it that read “lil buddy” and a battery clutched in one of its claws. despite all attempts, researchers could not find the portal that is normally found by those players taken in by the vault gods, though given the presence of an altar, it is certainly nearby, and the area has been quarantined until that portal’s location can be ascertained.]

I asked Idona to save me the other day.

It feels fickle; it feels like the sort of thing I only said because that’s what one ought to say to gods, when they want something from them. “Save me, Idona.”

They did no such thing, but I didn’t expect them to. I knew them when they still demanded blood sacrifice; now that they merely demand challengers at their altar instead of anything so obvious as the blood of their enemies, it can be easy to forget how malicious they had once seemed. It’s easy to forget that asking things of them had once ended poorly.

Perhaps that’s the Paradox that they are showing me; I had asked Idona to save me because within that Paradox, they would build a mine. That a blood god now offers mines and blacksmiths to me instead, in a place I can design to access myself—well, it’s easy to forget how I once knew them.

It’s easy to forget how often their challenges killed me once, too, back before I knew the trick to finish them quickly. The Gods had seemed just as cruel and capricious as always when I’d simply failed to find enough of the chests they’d laid out and they punished me by causing my health to steadily fade away.

That rarely happens anymore.

You see, yesterday, I killed a wither with a single hit from my javelin and a single hit from my sword. As I flew home, a nether star clutched in my feelers, I felt very little. It was hardly a challenge compared to the vaults; I don’t know why I’d expected more.

The gods have challenged me; I have risen to that challenge. I sweep through vaults, their minders at the side of my head, until I find their altar to bow at, find their altar to make promises of being the challenger they’re looking for at. I know the tricks to find my way around a vault, after all. I spend more time there than the overworld.

I wonder if I’m becoming arrogant, actually.

Even without my armor or sword, I’m too strong for the endermen I used to accidentally release from my farms. I hit them once and they die; if the punch doesn’t work, a javelin or a cast spell will. With the endermen, it’s fine.

With my parrots or dogs—

I have Lil Buddy now. He can’t die because I’m not meant for the overworld anymore, I don’t think.

I wonder if that, too, is the Paradox. The gods are gifting me unlimited power. I step into a vault I have designed myself, under their guidance, and I pull untold riches from it every time. The gods are gifting me strength, which I can call from an altar at any time. No threat can step near me without either being poisoned or scratched by the strength of my blade.

But I have not had a pet that is not made of metal in—I don’t know how to count days any longer. Time passes strangely inside of vaults. It is Wendarr’s trickery. I simply know I haven’t since I was level 70, and that feels like ages ago.

That’s about when I realized perhaps I am untouchable to that which I want, too.

Maybe I should ask Idona to save me for a reason that was not me, desperately trying to seek out their altar for jewels I hardly need these days; maybe I should ask Idona to save me from sacrificing more than I can give.

I know them, though. I’ve known them since they’ve demanded blood.

They won’t.

And one day, I will give them everything, and I will thank them for it. The one god that even they worship above all others, after all, is greed, and that is an altar I cannot simply stop going to.

[bit-dodgy-innit]

We're Not Here to F*ck Spiders

Summary: You were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel took a special interest in you. He wanted to know if your life would correspond with his and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. After an offhanded comment about reviewing your canon with Miguel outside of headquarters, your relationship with Spider-Man 2099 is forever changed.

Set in between ITSV and ATSV.

Pairing: Marc x OC Female!Reader

For context, Reader is an alternate, grown-up version of Mayday due to personal reasons (personal reasons being I’ve been obsessed with Mayday Parker since I was baby child)! No real use of Y/N, though Miguel does refer to the reader as "May" twice and Peter Parker nicknamed her Mayhem. Peter B.'s daughter is Mayday.

Word Count: 10.2k words (see why this took me forever?!)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!

CW/TW: An obscene amount of world-building, parents and kids fighting, mentions of a loss of a child, everyone being hot for Miguel, rough-ish sex (both partners are superheroes, come on), our boy is HUNG, dirty talk, a bit of cocky dom!Miguel, oral f!receiving, a lil bit of both m and f!receiving nipple play, PIV sex, riding, a quick spank, creampie, felching, and perhaps most intense of all, Miguel’s fear of commitment.

A/N: hahahahahaha this movie is nearly a year old and I FINALLY got around to writing a fic for it! Trust that I've been working on this on and off for a while now, but life has been nuts and writing more and more for work (yay!) but wanted to get this out while I had a slow week for everyone to enjoy!

Also, due to more personal reasons, my HC for Reader's parents are Peter and Mary Jane from Sam Raimi's masterpiece in 2002. But no presh if that doesn't jibe with ya!

I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD OF ANYTHING

“Careful, Mayday!” you fondly called after the child who was literally bouncing off the cavernous walls of HQ. Yeesh, were you this energetic when you were her age? Probably. It never ceased to be weird, hanging out with an alternate baby version of yourself, but you could manage if you pretended she was your little niece, or sister, or something like that. 

The alternate baby version of Mayday Parker in question didn’t heed your admonishment at all (which tracked), so you called again, “Oh noooo…I’m gonna have to come up there and get ya!”

Mayday squealed in delight at your “threat” and only zipped around quicker. However, you had a couple decades on her, so your reflexes were more attuned. It didn’t take long for you to capture her in your grasp and tickle her. However, little Mayday wasn’t going to give up that easily. She squirmed out of your hold and began scaling the nearby wall at a dizzying pace. 

“Okay, missy, let’s settle down,” you announced, shooting a web to meet the infant on the platform she’d crawled onto. You continued to speak as you swung, “you know how Miguel is, we can’t get too carried…away.”

You nearly threw yourself back off the platform when you were met with the sight of Miguel himself standing before you holding May. 

“Oh, hi,” you gestured to the squirming girl in his hands, “thanks. I was right behind her.” 

“What am I like?” He asked, an inquisitive arch in his brow. 

“You’re…you run a tight ship that’s all,” you wished a portal would swallow you whole. “And it’s great! We need it.”

“Are you supposed to be anywhere?” Miguel prodded further as he passed you May. 

“Me? No, it's my day off.”

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because you put Peter B. on a mission and it gives me anxiety when he takes her.” 

“You and me both,” he huffed. 

“That being said, anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah actually, I have new sequencing to go over with you.” 

Though the multiverse was ever-expanding, you were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel had taken a special interest in you. Since you were a second generation Spider, Miguel wanted to know if your life would correspond with his, your dad’s, and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. You initially found the whole concept fascinating, yet that interest waned pretty quickly when Miguel informed you that he was going to have Lyla analyze your entire life and have you expound on your experiences so he could compare you to the other Spiders. 

Not that there was anything you were particularly ashamed of, but some of this stuff was embarrassing. Unlike baby Mayday, whose powers had already emerged, yours didn’t make an appearance until puberty. Reviewing your awkward teen years wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending time with an unfairly hot guy, let alone the head of Spider Society.  

“Oh okay, yeah,” you replied. “When Peter gets ba—“

“MAYDAY! WHERE’S MY PUMPKIN?” Peter’s voice echoed across the room. 

No sooner had Peter spoken did Mayday websling herself off of the platform and into her father’s arms. 

Shit, there went your excuse. A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Convenient.” 

“Sí. Follow me.”

You did as Miguel said and trailed behind him to his…office didn’t quite describe it. Work station? Lair? You lasted all of forty-five seconds before your gaze dropped to his sculpted backside, a new record for you. 

It really was unfair that the intense, ornery leader of the Spider Society had to be so damn fine. You were a superhero and a consummate professional, but at the end of the day, you were a mostly heterosexual human woman with eyes. Miguel was stupidly sexy. His shoulder-to-waist ratio, that chiseled face, and of course, perfectly round ass had been the topic of a few hushed, giggly conversations between you and the other Spiders that liked boys. 

It was only ever cheeky whispers however. All of you knew better than to catch any real feelings for Miguel. One, it was majorly inappropriate. And two, he’d built emotional walls higher than the tallest skyscrapers in Nueva York. 

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander every now and then…you blamed it on your latest breakup. Spider-Girl duties had yet again claimed another potential partner. You suspected that was the reason it was more and more difficult not to fantasize about Miguel lately. Like sure, he was probably an animal in bed in the best way, but it was the prospect of not having to hide anything from him that appealed to you even more. 

“Lyla, bring up the latest sequencing,” Miguel ordered. 

If it weren’t for your spider-senses, you would’ve collided with his impossibly cut back, you were so deep into your thirsty thoughts. 

Suddenly, you were back on Earth-982A in your childhood bedroom. Or at least, that’s where you appeared to be. The virtual surroundings would’ve been comforting if it weren’t for the particular event that Miguel had wanted to revisit. 

Your father was forbidding you to use your powers. Again. You gazed at the rendering of your teenage self with compassion. Now, your father was fully supportive of you following in his footsteps, but the journey there had been rough. 

“You know, most parents would be happy if their kid wanted to do something to help the world!” 

Your dad scoffed. “That doesn’t matter - I’m not most parents and you’re not most kids!”

“Yeah and whose fault is that?!” Virtual you fired back. “I was born like this because of you! Dad, you’re always telling me that ‘with great power, comes great responsibility’ and now when I discover I inherited that great power, I can’t use it!?” 

“Pause,” Miguel’s voice spooked you back into the present. When you finally shook yourself from the memory that was playing before you, you found his eyes on yours. “Okay, there. Define ‘always’.”

“Quantitatively?” 

“Preferably.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Qualitatively, then.” 

“I mean, it's one of those things he said so much that I can’t remember the first time I heard it.” 

“When did your dad first hear it?” 

“His Uncle Ben told him during their last conversation together.” 

“Checks out. And how old was he?” 

“He was a senior in high school, so like seventeen, eighteen?” 

Miguel nodded. Even though x-ray vision nor telepathy weren’t in your powerset, you could practically see all the comparisons and calculations he was making in his head. 

“So using your powers to help people, that was your instinct when you inherited your abilities.”

“Yeah.” 

Miguel nodded again. 

“It’s different, isn’t it?” you asked him. He didn’t reply. “My dad told me he entered some god awful cage-match-wrestling-thing to get enough money to buy a car and impress my mom before he officially became Spider-Man.” 

Miguel was seemingly too busy with entering his latest data to respond. Instead, he barked at Lyla, “Resume sequence.” 

The holographic version of your dad lurched back to life to argue, “May, you are my great responsibility! So if I say no powers, no powers! I did this a lot longer than you! ” 

Tears streamed down your adolescent face. Thankfully, you’d lost some of the baby fat since.  “I hate you! I HATE YOU DAD!!” 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t easy to live, let alone re-live. So, as a Spider, naturally you made a jaunty, off-handed comment. “Wow, you really know how to show a girl a good time.” 

“Qué?” 

“Nothing.” He fixed you with his signature scowl so you elaborated, “Seriously, nothing. Though, maybe if we did this in an environment where I had access to alcohol and carbs, this would be less um…less unsettling for me.”

Miguel stared at you blankly. “But the simulator is here.”

“Right, of course.” Ughhhh, why was he so damn pretty?! “Forget I said anything, Miguel.” 

He dropped it, but before the simulation could start again, your gizmo beeped. Benji’s basketball game started in twenty. 

“Actually, sorry, I have to go.” 

“But we just got started.” 

“I know, but I haven’t been able to catch one of my little brother’s games yet this season, and it’s almost the playoffs.”

“Won’t he under–”

You interrupted Miguel. “You realize spider-stuff is not a viable excuse with my family, right? Besides, it’s my day off. I’m only here out of the goodness of my own heart and my commitment to the Spider-Society.” 

He rolled his eyes at your remark, but couldn’t help a little half - nay, quarter - smile from forming across the lips you had fantasized about kissing one too many times. “Things are quiet for once. We should knock this out now.” 

“We should,” you conceded as you created a portal, “but trying to have some semblance of work-life balance is Spider-Girl canon.”

And with that, you hopped back into your world, before you could change your mind or say anything else stupid and/or unintentionally flirty to Miguel. 

You re-appeared in your apartment with just enough time to throw on clothes and swing over to the middle school. Your mom was waiting as you hurried into the gym right as Benji and the other players were taking the court. 

“Look who made it,” MJ observed wryly. 

“Ha ha,” you fired back humorlessly, but pulled your mom into a hug all the same. “Where’s Dad?”

The ref’s whistle signaled tip off and the beginning of the game, momentarily distracting you two. You were thrilled to see Benji starting – he really wanted to make JV when he started high school next year, and this was a step in the right direction. 

“Go Benji!!” MJ cheered before answering your question, “He hit traffic coming from the station. He’ll be here soon.” 

Your collective attention was pulled to the game unfolding in front of you, then MJ asked, “What have you been up to today?” 

“Me? I was at the society for a bit, helping with the baby.”

You didn’t need to see your mother to know that she tensed at the mention of the Spider-Society and Peter B.’s Mayday. It, understandably, weirded her out. 

“How can it not be strange to care for–”

“It would be if we were closer in age,” you pointed out. “But it’s just like babysitting with Mayday right now. And trust me, after all the versions of Dad I’ve met, hanging out with little me is nothing.” 

Despite being weirded out, your mom always tried to empathize, so she switched gears. “Anything interesting happen?” 

“Ugh, just more sequencing with Miguel - today was a tough one.”

“Why?”

“Fights with Dad from years ago that I know we’ve moved past, but still suck to watch.” 

Your mom took your hand in hers, a much-needed grounding gesture. “Well, you’re back in the present, in your corner of the universe now, sweetie.” 

You gave her hand an appreciative squeeze and took her words to heart, focusing on the basketball game in front of you. It didn’t take too long to put the earlier events from headquarters behind you – Benji scored a couple baskets and you took it upon yourself to meticulously document the game on your phone for memories and possible future blackmail. 

When your Dad did join you and MJ, you couldn’t help but hug him tightly. You buried your face into his coat, which smelled like a mix of smoke from the streets and his aftershave. 

It was Peter’s mix of spider and paternal instincts that prompted him to ask, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” you assured him, giving him some space. “I just–I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too, Mayhem.” Where Mayday was Peter B’s moniker for his daughter, Mayhem was your dad’s nickname for you.

The game ended in victory for Benji’s team, the Midtown Mavericks, and you three waited for the youngest member of the Parker family to emerge from the locker room. 

Benji’s face when he saw you made any lingering discomfort you had leaving Miguel one thousand percent worth it. “You made it!” 

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you pulled Benji into a hug - however reluctant he was to it since he was a ~teenager~ now. “Dude, you put up points tonight!” 

But Benji had gotten distracted, so instead of responding to you, he murmured “Woah, that guy is swole.” 

You turned around to see who he was talking about and your jaw nearly hit the floor. 

It was Miguel. 

Even more incredibly, he was in civilian clothes. It wasn’t until you witnessed him in dark wash jeans, a henley, and a well-worn bomber jacket that you realized that you’d actually never seen Miguel in anything other than his spider suit. 

He called your name and you acknowledged him with a wave, flabbergasted. Even more astonished that you knew this very attractive hunk of man was your brother, “Wait, you know him?!”

“We work together,” you said quietly. 

“At the paper?” Benji was confused. 

“No, at my other job.” 

“Oh,” it clicked for him. “That makes sense. Man, I hope I get that jacked when I get my powers.” 

“Shhhh, be cool Benji,” you urged him. 

“Um, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he harrumphed. “Oh shit, you like him.”

Though there was more than a decade between you and Benji, your little brother was still your little brother.  “No! He’s the head of the Spider-Society and he’s–you’ll see.” 

You took a step forward to greet Miguel before anyone else from your family could get to him. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” 

“I wanted to finish our work today, and since it’s your day off, I decided to come to you.” 

“Miguel O’Hara making a compromise? How not canon. Wonder how big of a hole that’s gonna tear in the multiverse.” 

“Shut up,” he ordered you playfully. 

“Miguel, good to see you!” Your dad strode over and pulled the younger spider-man into a handshake. 

“You too, Dr. Parker.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how oddly deferential Miguel was with your dad. He’d met Peter first, when he was establishing the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse. Miguel was stunned to discover that this Peter was not only retired, but had a full-grown daughter who’d taken up his crime-fighting mantle. Apparently your dad’s canon was particularly important and central to the greater Spiderverse, which meant Miguel would pester you with questions about him constantly. 

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, “You don’t usually make house calls.” 

Before Miguel could explain, an elbow nearly sent you into careening into his broad chest. Mom. 

“Miguel, this is my mom, Mary Jane.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker,” Miguel dutifully offered his hand to her. 

“The pleasure is mine,” your mom gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Benji was right. He was not the person you had to be worried about. A rip in the multiverse to swallow you whole would be rather convenient right about now. 

Miguel’s brow creased. “You have?”

“She hasn’t,” you intervened. “Like two or three things in passing, max. Promise I haven’t broken my NDA or you know, the superhero code of secrecy or anything.” 

Mercifully, Miguel let it slide for the time being. He turned to your brother. “And you must be Benji.” 

“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, doing a terrible job of pitching his voice lower. “‘Sup, bro.” 

Jesus Christ. At this point, you were ready to rip the fabric of reality yourself to end this. 

“Congrats on the win. Hate to do this, but I need to steal your sister for a bit.” 

“No problem, I know she’s fine with it.” Perhaps Benji needed a reminder regarding which sibling had the super powers. “Also, what’s your workout–”

“Well, as fun as this all is, we should probably get back to work.”

Your family didn’t put up much of a fight – thank God – as pleasantries were exchanged and you and Miguel took off. You hoped Miguel didn’t catch when your mother mouthed “So handsome!!” to you as everyone said their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the two of you walking down East 36th Street. 

“Sorry about them,” you began. 

He looked at you, puzzled. “Why?” 

“My family. Embarrassing.” 

“They’re not embarrassing. They’re…they’re nice,” there was pain behind Miguel’s eyes. “It’s interesting. Your brother hasn’t experienced any spider-abilities, has he?” 

“No,” you confirmed. “Not yet.”

You two slowed to stop on the corner. Miguel looked at you expectantly. “So, where to?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you wanted to do this in an environment where you ‘had access to alcohol and carbs’.” 

“Oh! Right. Hmmm, where are we?” you looked up at the cross streets above you. “36th and 3rd? I know a place.” 

You took Miguel to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian spot nearby. Since it was so close to Benji’s school and your old middle and high school, you had spent many a week night at their tables, either working on homework or chowing down after basketball practice. 

Therefore, the staff knew you – it was a family owned spot, you’d basically grown up with the owner’s children, Maria and Chris. Though you graduated from Midtown Charter a looong time ago, they still took care of you. Maria had even let you use their first aid kit once, no questions asked, after a nasty Spider-Girl skirmish nearby. You didn’t suspect she knew anything, but even if she did, you could trust Maria to be discreet. 

At least, you thought you could trust Maria, but when she showed you and Miguel to your table, and Miguel made a pit stop at the restroom, she very indiscreetly asked, “Daaaamn, girl. He your boyfriend? Because you–”

“No!”

“You getting dicked down by him?” 

“No!” 

“Can I get dicked down by him? He single? Does he like the ladies?” 

“Maria, he’s a colleague. Actually, he’s my superior. So no…unfortunately, no.” 

Maria cackled with delight. “That’s a pen worth sticking in your company ink. I’ll bring you some garlic bread.”

“And a glass of red wine,” you added. “no, a bottle.”

“That’s my girl!” 

In theory, you had thought that reviewing sequencing outside of headquarters would’ve been less awkward, but in reality, it was more so. You couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of Miguel in normal clothes, the intimacy of having a meal together when usually your interactions were so sterile and professional, plus there was a little voice in your head screaming that THIS WAS BASICALLY A DATE on repeat.

“So should we pick up where we left off?” Miguel asked. The question brought you back down to Earth. Despite that little persistent voice in your head oohing and ahhing at him, it was clear that Miguel didn’t think this was a date. This dinner was a means to end, nothing more. 

“Let me get a little wine drunk first,” you bargained. 

“Yeah, but you have sped-up metabolism, so that’ll take at least–” 

“That was a joke. Miguel, when was the last time you went out to dinner?” 

He seemed to truly consider the question, then, “I don’t know.” 

You’d never heard Miguel say those three words in that order before. 

“I promise you I will go over my cringe teen years with you, but can we eat some garlic bread and not get drunk off this very nice bottle of wine first?” 

“You’re worse than Lyla,” his eyes narrowed. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“She’s always trying to get me to take breaks.”

“You should! There’s only so much self-flagellation a human can take, even if they’re a superhero.” 

Miguel’s response was a very inarticulate grumble. Maria dropped off the wine, bread, and took your order. You didn’t know what was more insane – the amount of food Miguel ordered or how unabashedly Maria was ogling him. 

“Let me guess, Lyla’s the one who suggested the field trip to my home dimension?”

Another grumble, this one in the affirmative. 

“Classic,” you remarked with a snort before taking a gulp from your glass. “I love that your AI is smarter than you.” 

“Of course she is, she can access all of the multiverse’s knowledge in a nano-second.’

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” 

“Can we not talk about me for a second?” 

“Why?” 

“Because…because, I don't know, I was hoping doing this in a more casual environment would–it’d make it feel more like a conversation.” 

“We are having a conversation.” 

“Jeez, Miguel,” you took another sip of wine. “It’s not easy digging through my past like this. A lot of the time it feels more like an interrogation.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I want to help you, help the Spider-Society, but the one-sidedness of this is exhausting.”

“Exhausting.” He sounded dubious. 

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll take care of the bill and see you tomorrow, and we can go back to reviewing the sequencing like we normally do. I should know better than to complain to you.” 

Miguel looked at you if your words had stung him. “You can complain to me.” 

“No, I can’t,” you disputed. “You’re the most self-sacrificing Spider out of any of us–which is really saying something, by the way–and I feel lame talking about my feelings with you.”

“And that’s why our reviews feel like interrogations,” he was putting it together. 

“Yeah. Sorry to drag you out of HQ.”

Miguel scrutinized you with a long, unreadable look before announcing, “I’m not leaving before I have my bolognese.”

You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Miguel may have lacked the traditional spidey precognitive sense, and the signature spider sense of humor, but he definitely had the stubbornness you all seemed to possess. 

You shot him a sidelong glare. “Why did you come here?” 

“I told you - I wanted to finish sequencing and Lyla suggested coming to you.” 

“But you didn’t have to take her suggestion.”

Miguel’s large frame shifted in the chair that suddenly appeared too small for him. “Like you said, she’s smarter than me, so I did. And yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out to dinner.”

You didn’t know how to react to that. Right before the silence became intolerable, Miguel spoke again, “You still with that gu–’

“No.” The last thing you wanted to talk about with Miguel was your failed relationship with Gene, and you’d once discussed the correlation of getting your first period could’ve had with your powers emerging with him.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I mean, you get it.”

Miguel at last took a sip from his glass. “All too well.” 

“The price of being a hero, right?” you sent him a small, sympathetic smile across the table. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself.” 

“Your parents seemed to have figured it out,” he pointed out. 

“Well, that took like decades, and according to you, they’re canon, right? So it was meant to be. I guess that’s one of the comforts of having a canon-confirmed soulmate.” 

“Yeah, if you're Peter Parker.” 

Your heart sank at the implication. “So that means if a Spider isn’t Peter we’re meant to die alone?” 

“I don’t know,” Miguel’s eyes were averted. “Maybe only if you’re a Miguel O’Hara.” 

“Stop, you could get anyone in this restaurant to sleep with you,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Our waitress has to resist climbing on top of you whenever she passes the table.”

He swatted away the implication as if it were a pest. “That’s different.”

“You know, it might help with the stress.”

“What?”

“Letting someone climb on top of you.”

Miguel glared at you, “Don’t.”

“See? It’s not fun being on the other side of the questions,” you smirked. Your conversation was briefly suspended when Maria returned with your entrees. After thanking her, you refocused back on Miguel, “Can I ask you something else?”

“No.”

“DADA!” A child, who couldn’t have been more than three, screeched happily from a neighboring table. 

Miguel froze. For the first time in the several months that you’d known him, you saw his face soften. The warmth that filled his eyes at the sight of the toddler was undeniable. The fond expression hardened back into his stoic facade within an instant, yet Miguel couldn’t fully conceal the anguish that clearly still haunted him. He never could. 

“Sorry,” you said softly. 

He shook off your condolences. “What’d you want to ask me?” 

“Have you tried seeing anyone after…” it felt forbidden to say Gabriella’s name out loud. 

“What’s the point?” Miguel shrugged. “I don’t have the time, even if I wanted to.” 

“Right,” you hedged. 

Eventually, you and Miguel were able to find things to talk about outside of work and your respective traumas. You compared notes on the lamest villain you’d each encountered rounding up anomalies, discussed the idea of a nursery for spider-babies, or as Miguel insisted on calling them, “second-generation Spiders” – Peter couldn’t keep taking his kid on missions, plus Jessica Drew had just learned she was expecting – you even got Miguel to open up about his teenage days some. 

“Makes sense you were a rebel,” you chuckled, taking one last bite of the tiramisu Maria insisted was on the house.  

“Yeah? Why?” Miguel prodded.

“Because you-re so uptigh–upstanding now.” 

You were treated to another rare grin from Miguel, this time a half smile rather than a quarter. “Nice save.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you contended with put-on innocence. 

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t always like what I have to do, you know.” 

Your gaze locked directly with his for a breath-taking second, his eyes garnets in the low light of the dining room. “We should get going, I've taken you away from headquarters for long enough.” 

“You act like I’ve never left HQ before, and if anything, I took you away from your family,” Miguel parried, yet stood up nonetheless. You followed suit, only mildly disappointed he didn’t argue with you about leaving. As awkward as this dinner initially was, you’d actually ended up enjoying it. “I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words stopped you in your tracks, “You know I’m the protector of this city, right?” 

“Obviously, I—” he huffed as you waved goodbye to Maria and exited back onto the street. “Mierda May, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

Oh. Oh. Did Miguel think this was a date too? Date was too strong of a word – did Miguel think this was a not-entirely-work-related-hang too? 

You struggled to keep your face blasé. “Ah, okay. We taking the subway or are we swinging?” 

Miguel shot you a look as if the choice was obvious, which is how you found yourself traipsing across the city with Spider-Man 2099. You’d traveled by web plenty of times with Miguel before on missions, but there was something about it being the two of you, in your city, that made it feel just a little bit special. 

And to be honest, you’d never get enough of watching Miguel’s body hurtle through the air – despite his bulk and brawn, he was agile and lithe as he swung from building to building with you. You nearly plunged into traffic on Sixth Avenue after your thoughts had wandered to what those bulging muscles looked like unencumbered by that skin-tight suit of his. 

When you arrived at your apartment in Morningside Heights, you were suddenly self-conscious. You’d never brought a Spider to your residence, and Miguel was likely the hardest to impress of them all. 

He studied your modest one-bedroom with the same intensity as he did his screens at the Spider-Society. 

“It’s not much, I know,” you began, “and with Spider-Girl stuff, I don’t have the time to keep it as tidy as I'd like to.”

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled before catching himself. “I mean, it’s perfect for you.” 

“Yeah, I don’t need much, but it gets good light during the day and was the highest floor I could afford at my price point,” you removed your mask as you babbled on. 

“Makes sense,” Miguel nodded. 

You had no idea where to go from there – what on Earth was the man playing at? Should you offer him water, another drink, the best spot to portal back to HQ? He was lingering in your space, seemingly fascinated by the framed prints on your walls, the photos on the coffee table and credenza. 

“Um, do you need to use the restroom or something? Because it’s right through there,” you motioned to the appropriate door. 

“I’m good for now.”

THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? You hollered in your head. Externally, you kept playing hostess, “Let me get you a glass of water then–”

Yet Miguel caught your wrist before you could retreat into your tiny, galley kitchen. You weren’t proud of how your heart leapt and your breath hitched at the contact. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back?” 

He shrugged, “I should, but–”

“But what?” 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…about letting someone climb on top of me.” 

You gulped, “Sorry, that was so inappropriate of me–”

“It was. Inappropriate, that is, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea,” he tugged you closer to him. You could barely stand to meet his eyes, alight with desire, while your heart was pounding embarrassingly fast. 

“Um, judging by the–uh, do you want me to climb on top of you, Miguel?” you were always so much smoother in your daydreams about him. 

His lips hovered dangerously near yours. “Do you want to climb on top of me?” 

The closer you got to Miguel, the faster your brain turned to scrambled eggs. His large, sure hands had settled on your hips. 

“Uh huh,” was the best you could muster before he crashed your lips together. 

Miguel’s kiss was searing and all-consuming – it felt as if the longer your mouths moved against each other, the more your body melted into his. He was tall, so tall, and even for a superhero like yourself, it was difficult to keep yourself perched on the balls of your feet to reach his skilled, hungry mouth. 

He seemed to sense your struggle, and without breaking your liplock, he scooped you up into his arms. It was foreign but not unwelcome – you were so used to being the strongest, the person who held others, the hero. Therefore, being held so effortlessly in Miguel’s arms was nothing short of exhilarating. You weren’t the strongest person in the room anymore, you could surrender. You loved it.

Miguel pressed your back into the nearest wall, causing an emphatic moan to leave you when your hips became flush with his. You could already feel him – hot, hard, and big – between the flimsy fabric of your spider-suits. Instinctually, you canted your heat against his, delighting in the way he seemed to grow hotter, harder, not to mention unbelievably bigger, when you did. 

“Bedroom?” he gasped between harsh, ardent kisses. 

You managed to fling a hand in the correct direction, and next thing you knew, Miguel was depositing you onto your bed. You propped yourself up, leaning back on your palms to take in the man towering over you at the edge of your bed. In a flash of color and light, his suit disappeared from his strapping physique, and the sight of Miguel naked intoxicated you more than alcohol ever could. 

His shoulders seemed even broader without the unstable particles of his suit covering them. His pecs were massive, which made a delectable ratio when his chest tapered down to a chiseled abdomen and slim hips. Slim hips that framed the biggest cock you’d seen outside of porn – hell, maybe even including porn. He was long and thick – it made a dark thrill race down your spine when you contemplated how the hell that was going to fit inside of you. 

Miguel noticed you marveling at his package, misinterpreting the rapacious glint in your eye as unease, “I’ll prep you, I won’t hurt you.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried” you glanced back up at his face coquettishly. 

“No?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow and advanced toward you on the bed, a jaguar stalking its prey. He nudged you onto your back and pinned your wrists to your comforter, “maybe you should be.” 

You muscled out of Miguel’s grip and switched positions so you were straddling him. Only then did you lean closer and whisper into his ear, “I can take it.” 

Miguel growled, and within an instant, you were on your back once again as he pawed at your suit. Unlike his costume, your spider-suit was made of plain old fabric, so there was a bit of fumbling, cursing in Spanish, nervous giggling, and a mumbled comment about ‘making you a suit like mine’ from Miguel before you were nude as well. 

He splayed you out against your mattress as if you were a feast before him. Your first instinct was to try and cover yourself but Miguel’s dark gaze froze you. A pleased groan rumbled from his chest and then his large hands flew to your breasts. “Such full, perky tits.”

You moaned in response to his ministrations. How was this real? You and Miguel were touching each other – naked – and you hadn’t woken up yet. 

“It’s all for you,” you mewled, relishing his hot palms on your sensitive buds. 

Another growl ripped from his chest before he swooped down and sucked one of your nipples into his warm, wanting mouth. You keened, a pathetic, high-pitched sound, and you wove your fingers into his dark locks as he gorged himself on your tits. 

The pull of Miguel’s mouth on your peaks was made only better when he snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger along the seam of your sex. You bucked at the touch, your reaction causing Miguel to lift his head from your bosom. 

“Mmmm, you like it when I play with your pussy, cariño?”

At this point words had all but left you so you nodded and whined in the affirmative. Miguel’s digit parted your folds, tracing up and down, then found your clit and rubbed slow, tortuous circles into the nub. 

“So wet for me, bebita,” he observed, maddeningly casually, while he played you like an instrument. “This is all for me, huh?”

Your head thrashed back and forth on your comforter with a sob, both from pleasure and bashfulness. Now there was no downplaying how horny Miguel made you. 

“Shhh,” he cooed at you, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his groin, “feel what you do to me.”

This time your moan was unabashed as your hand circled around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

“I know,” he grunted. Normally, such braggadocio from a man would be an immediate turn off to you. But Miguel wasn’t being arrogant, not when he was referring to the thick, pulsing hardness you were currently caressing. “Gotta get you ready for me.”  

He guided your hand away from his member, even despite your protests, to wrench your thighs wider and bury his head between them. The realization alone that Miguel O’Hara was about to eat you out almost made you come, yet actually feeling his tongue on your needy cunt was infinitely better. He licked a stripe from your perineum to your clit, tearing another ragged moan from you when his tongue focused in on the bundle of nerves. 

Miguel chuckled against your folds at your enthusiastic praise and redoubled his efforts. Your fingers reflexively tangled in his inky locks once again as he continued his delectable assault on your pussy. The way Miguel tasted you matched with how he seemed to approach everything – he was vehement and determined to bring you pleasure like how he was when he worked. He managed to just stay on the right side of rough as he slurped at you..though perhaps that was a bit different than how he fought.

He speared his tongue into your hole, affording you the opportunity to grind your clit against his prominent nose. In your pleasure-filled haze, you briefly fretted that you were suffocating Miguel, but when you tried to scooch away and give him some air, the man grunted and pulled your hips closer to him.

You keened again when one of his thick fingers joined the fray as he prepped you. After all the sexual tension, all the self-denial, and all the excitement the night had held, it felt so good to clench around something. He was again methodical with his preparation, allowing you to adjust to one digit before adding another, and another. It couldn’t have made a starker contrast with how he was devouring your sex. Even in the bedroom, Miguel O’Hara was full of contradictions. It didn’t take long for your breaths to become more shallow, for your cries to reach a higher pitch as you climaxed around his hefty fingers. The combination of the penetration and the stimulation of your clit with his mouth was too good to resist. 

You were slightly relieved that Miguel remained nestled between your legs while you rode out your peak. The orgasm he’d given you was much too good to be able to control your facial expressions. 

He at last came up for air once you’d begun floating down from your peak. A primal pride surged through you at the sight of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smash your mouths together, eager to sample the combination you two made. It was all too easy to get lost in a kiss with Miguel, yet as you plundered his mouth with your tongue, your hand crept back down his groin. 

This time it was Miguel who moaned into your mouth as you returned him to full mast with feather-light, teasing touches. 

“I need to fuck you,” he gasped between kisses. 

“Finally,” you bantered back. 

A growl from Miguel and then he tackled you back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help the giggle – partly from nerves, partly from anticipation – that escaped you at his actions, despite the visage of a hulking, intimidating man hovering over you could be frightening in another context. 

“Do you have protection?” 

You hesitated. You kept a box of condoms in your bedside drawer, but given Miguel’s size, they’d be inadequate. 

“None that would fit you,” you confessed, stealing another glance at his large erection. It was truly a sight to behold. Miguel deflated slightly, fearing penetration was off the table, and usually it would be. You were firmly a two methods of contraception girl, but there was no way you were going to pass up this chance to have sex with Miguel. “Don’t worry Spidey, I’m on the pill.” 

“Gracias a Dios,” he muttered, then wasted no time situating himself between your hips. He drew yet another mewl from you when he slapped the tip of his cock a few times on your clit before lining himself up with your entrance. 

He found you looking at him expectantly. And though Miguel mostly saw desire in your eyes, he could see the glimpse of unease too. He assured you, “I’ll go slow.” 

You nodded, you trusted him after all, but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of when Miguel finally pushed into you. Just the tip was already splitting you apart more than Gene, or any former lover for that matter, ever had. 

“Breathe,” Miguel rasped. You couldn’t tell if he was advising you or himself though. It struck you then that you’d perhaps achieved the damn-near impossible – disarming the notoriously closed-off Miguel O’Hara. He looked beautiful, biting his plush lower lip as he slowly rocked more and more of his huge cock inside of you. 

Your back arched off the mattress of the sensation of being progressively speared on the monster that Miguel called a dick. It was too much and not enough all at once, and your fingers dug into your comforter below you. He tried to distract you from any potential pain, Miguel’s index finger returning to your barely-recovered clit. 

“That’s it, open up for me,” he husked. Your head swam at the mix of his enormous manhood stretching you to your limit and his tender, in-control tone. The realization hit you harder than a punch from an anomaly. In that moment, fear skittered down your throat and pooled into your stomach, resting right above where you two were joined. He’s going to ruin me for other men, isn’t he? 

You couldn’t think any further since not only was Miguel fully seated within you, he had asked you a question. Your eyes glassy and pupils blown, found his, and he repeated himself. “You okay? Can-can I move?”

“Yes,” you gasped. In case your breath affirmation left any room for doubt, you added, “please.”

Another grunt from your lover and Miguel at last began to thrust into you. Your arms flew from the bed to his impossibly wide shoulders, your nails digging into the caramel, taut skin there. You couldn’t tell exactly when it’d happened, lost in the deliciously lewd sounds you were making between the slap of your bodies, your labored breaths, and his determined staccato grunts while Miguel railed you, but your hips had begun to meet his. 

“M-more Miguel,” you urged him as you dragged your fingertips down the expanse of his back. Each of your hands grabbed a fistful of that glorious ass and squeezed to drive home your point. 

“You sure?” 

You moaned. It was as if he couldn’t give it to you hard or faster enough. You used your grip on the globes of his perfect rear to try and force him to increase to the pace and force you needed him to fuck you at. 

Miguel laughed. A dark and stirring sound that made you involuntarily tighten around his girthy length. “Alright bebita, but remember…you asked for this.” 

His words ignited something defiant within you. You pulled Miguel’s head from where it had fallen into the crook of your neck so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I’m not some pillow princess from Nueva. I’m just as strong as you are, I can go just as hard you can, and I want you to fuck me.” 

Your lover’s eyes darkened at your demand. The growl that ripped from his throat was your only warning before Miguel unleashed the full force of his strength on you. You keened in pleasure as he all but drove you through your bedframe and the wall behind it. Miguel captured your wrists once more and restrained you against the mattress as he absolutely pounded into your pussy. 

His drilling drew another ecstatic cry from your mouth. Miguel glared down at you, his eyes nearly crazed, his face barely lit in the ambient light from the street. It truly was infuriating to you how beautiful this man was. You watched his brow furrowed in concentration – not on his stupid screens for once – and his dark hair shift in time with his thrusts.  Your features contorted in pleasure when Miguel switched from drilling into you to swiveling his hips to stuff you with his cock. His movements were deliberate and slow, he was trying to get as deep inside of you as he could. You almost went cross-eyed at the feel of his bulbous cockhead punching against your cervix. 

The criminal undulations of his hips extracted a little yip from you each time he pistoned into you. He grinned down at you wolfishly. Equal parts indignation and arousal bloomed within you. Also, was the first time you'd ever seen Miguel smile? Not a little half-smirk or a humorless quirk of his lips, but an unabashed smile?

“Want me to back off?” 

Oh, there was no way you were going to take that lying down. Even if Miguel’s pubic bone was perfectly grinding into your clit. 

You let out a growl of your own and summoned all the power in your core muscles to wrestle Miguel back and claim the high ground. Out of breath when you found yourself seated on Miguel’s dick, his large, muscled body prone beneath you, you braced yourself on his rippled abdomen.

“Is the itsy-bitsy Spider-Girl gonna ride my cock?” he taunted you. If Miguel didn’t wear that arrogant, playful smirk so well, you would’ve wiped it from his lips. 

You slid your hands up the length of his chest and leaned over, your face hovering over his. “That depends. Can 2099 handle it?” 

Miguel answered you with an impatient buck of his hips up into your sex. You giggled as you straightened up again, tweaking one of Miguel's nipples as you went. You relished the little shudder it sent through him. “Alright, but remember baby, you asked for this.”

He snorted out a laugh, which you quickly silenced once you began riding Miguel like the stud he was. “Hnnn–shock, bebita.”

“Ah,” you sighed as you bounced on his prick. Before sleeping with Miguel, you had assumed the term “feeling him in your guts” was hyperbole. Not with him. “Fuck, you’re even bigger like this.” 

A large hand traced its way up one of your thighs, now lightly covered with a sheen of sweat, past your sex, split apart by his shaft, to where Miguel’s manhood made the slightest bulge in your lower belly. His smile became wider and even cockier. “It’s good, no?”

You gave him a nonverbal, but enthusiastic, reply. He smacked your ass in satisfaction, “Yeah c’mon, cariño, ride me. Wanna watch your tits bounce.” 

You officially hated Miguel and his big, thick, perfectly sized cock. Where as with other partners you’d smack them right back with a zinger, all you could do was moan again. His naughty, domineering words did nothing but excite you. There was something about him and the way he fucked that made you incapable of doing little else than enthusiastically submitting to him. You leaned back, your fingers clutching onto Miguel’s thick thighs to stability as you changed angles and gave him a better view of your breasts jiggling in time with your motions. 

“Ay, sí bebita,” Miguel’s hands flew to your hips to intensify the frantic mashing of your bodies together, “Ven aquí.”

He gathered your torso in his hulking arms and pulled you closer so that he could coax a breast into his mouth again as you rode him. 

“You gonna come for me Miguel?” you panted.  

“No,” he sounded as winded as you were. “Not yet.”

You clenched around him and snickered. “Are you sure?” 

“¡Coño!” Miguel snarled at the feel of your already blistering, tight pussy suffocating his dick further. “¡No más – basta de esto!”

The vision of your bedroom swam when Miguel lifted you off his pulsing member and dropped you back on your stomach onto the mattress facing the foot of the bed.. You could hear him shifting behind you, and you blindly groped for the lower metal railing of your bedframe’s footboard, only vaguely aware what was to come. 

A grunt from Miguel, and the next thing you knew one of your pillows was stuffed under your lower belly and his massive hands were back on either side of your hips. Your lover didn’t give you any notice before shoving his fat erection back inside of your already tender pussy. 

You shouted at the feeling of his cock stuffing you to the brim once again. Miguel’s hands appeared above your head where you held on for dear life as he impaled you on his prick.

“Ahhh!” you clamored, desperately trying to pull enough air in your lungs to function as Miguel squatted behind you. “I’ve never been so full! Oh God, Miguel, it’s so much…so much…”

Miguel responded with a pleased growl, and merely rammed into you harder. You were peripherally aware of the clanging of the pieces of your metal bed frame clanging together in protest at the vigor of your and Miguel’s coupling, but there were too many sensations overwhelming you at once to focus on one in particular. Not even when the metal groaned and the angle Miguel fucked you at changed did you pay attention to what was actually happening. You merely pushed back onto his cock as much as you could, your fingertips scrabbling into the folds of your comforter. 

Your eyes screwed shut at the barrage of stimuli - the unrelenting stretch of Miguel’s hardness,  his harsh but steadying grip on your hips, the light scratch of fabric beneath you on your skin, the little puff of warmth on the back of your neck from Miguel’s labored exhalations. You were sure this was better than any high any drug could provide. You hadn’t tried many, not even Rapture, and but nothing could top being thoroughly fucked into your mattress by Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel’s dogged grunts morphed into shouts when he at last found his release, spurting rope after rope of hot, creamy cum into your welcoming cunt. You found yourself crying out along with him as he emptied his load, your walls bearing down around his length as you both rode out his high. Miguel flooded your pussy with his seed and before you could even try to adjust to the feeling, he withdrew his cock from you, tearing a quite pathetic-sounding whimper from your mouth. 

Miguel pulled your ass cheeks apart to examine your stretched, puffy pussy leaking his cum. His chest rumbled with primal delight. “Hermosa.”

You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath when Miguel dove back in for more, this time his eager, demanding tongue again invading your channel. You whimpered again, your pitch jumping an octave at Miguel’s needy tongue not only collecting his spunk from your pussy, but flicking the muscle against your clit. He was a man possessed, he ate you out as if he needed you to orgasm one more time for his survival. 

You gave him what he wanted (how could you not?), and once the crest of your pleasure had subsided, you lightly pushed him away from your gaping, abused cunt. 

The first thing you noticed when your wits returned to you was how much closer the ground had become. 

“Oh my God,” you put it together and turned to face your partner, "we broke the bed.”

Miguel arched a brow from where he leant back into the pillows. “Are you surprised?”

You frowned at him.  

“I’ll fix it,” he promised. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to…” you trailed off your gaze floating to the bathroom.

“Do your thing.”

“Can…can I get you anything?” 

Miguel glanced down at his crotch. “A towel?” 

You nodded. “Say no more.” 

You ducked into your en-suite, and once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind you, you proceeded to have a freak out to yourself in the mirror. You scarcely believe your own appearance – lips kiss swollen, hair a veritable bird's nest, your mascara smudged into rings around your eyes. Miguel had destroyed you in the best of ways. 

The thought sent a little aftershock of pleasure through you. You didn’t dally any longer — you relieved yourself, washed your hands, ran a brush through your hair and splashed water on your face. After dampening a washcloth for Miguel, you returned to the bedroom, where your bed frame was properly vertical again. 

You glimpsed the glow of Miguel’s distinctive red webs holding the broken metal rods together. The other Spider was reclining on your mattress, a sheet haphazardly tossed over his groin to preserve his modesty. Even so, the sight of him made you go weak in the knees. He really did remind you of some sort of a large cat given the odd grace in which he lounged with, the evidence of his power and strength so poorly hidden under the surface of his skin. 

“Get a new frame and expense it to Spider-HQ,” Miguel's baritone snapped you out of your reverie. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” You tossed him the towel. 

His eyes raked over your naked form. But instead of the desire you’d found there earlier, his gaze was full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yes. Very okay. A little sore but good sore, ya know?” 

“Good,” Miguel busied himself with cleaning up. 

“I mean, what’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy extra rough sex?” you joked. 

“Yeah, about that,” Miguel refused to meet your eyes. “As um…great as all this was…I think we–it should be a one-time thing.” 

“Um, duh.” He looked up at you hastily and you continued, “Miguel, neither of us are anywhere close to ready or in the right place for a relationship.” 

Your heart disagreed with your words, but you uttered them anyway. Not because it was how you truly felt, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear. Miguel associated any sense of closeness or vulnerability with weakness and danger. Trying to get him to see otherwise was a fool's errand, and it was easier on your heart to convince yourself into concurring with him. 

Oddly, Miguel didn’t seem to relax at your assurances. He looked dubious. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh my God, you are so cocky!” you accused him with a playful slap to the broad, tan chest. “Spare me the fake worry 2099, you may be amazing at sex, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be professional with you at HQ.” 

“Amazing at sex?” Mirguel parroted you with a smirk. 

You slapped him again. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”

“Sorry but those are very distracting,” he claimed, his gaze focused on your exposed breasts. 

You scoffed and grabbed a pillow to temporarily cover yourself. “Hang on there, Spider-Man. Yes, you are…not terrible at showing a lady a good time, no, you don’t have to worry about me being clingy at work, and yes, I’m sure so stop looking at me like that!” 

You tossed the pillow away and straddled him. “Now I don’t know about you, but it’s only midnight. If this is indeed a one-time thing, I say we make the most of the night and the fact that no one has bothered us with some multiversal emergency yet.” 

Miguel finally let it go, choosing to focus on your very nude body on top of his. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding his cock, already stiffening back up to full mast, against where you were still so nice and stretched for him. 

“Vamos, bebita,” he whispered into your ear. His fingers dug into your sides possessively in a way that almost let you believe he was doing it because you were his. “Wanna fuck you on the ceiling.” 

***

You shouldn't have been surprised that Miguel didn’t stay the night. You were honestly shocked when he collapsed beside you after the hours you’d spent vehemently fucking. Your bed was now held together by a mix of both his and your webs, one of your framed photos on the wall lay shattered on the floor to be dealt with later, and the ceiling now sported a dent that was going to be very difficult to explain to your landlord. 

The memory of Miguel leaving was hazy at best. After so many rounds of deeply satisfying, intensely athletic sex, you felt like you could sleep for a week. Yet the shift and dip of Miguel’s large frame exiting the bed was enough to wake you. You could sort of recall a small flash of light and chirpy voice which must have been Lyla…and you also had a vague memory of him replying in a hushed rumble as if not to wake you up. Or was he telling you he was heading out? Everything jumbled together under the fog of sleep. 

Either way, you had to tell yourself that the sensation of a large hand caressing your face and then tenderly stroking down the sleep-warm skin of your back was a dream. Not for Miguel’s sake, but yours. 

Thanks to super-spider stamina, you only really needed a couple extra shots of espresso to function somewhat normally the following day at headquarters. You were angry at your instinct to avoid Miguel. You both were adults that had an adult, mature conversation that last night’s activities were merely a form of stress release that didn’t mean anything. It was hard to believe however, when you could still feel the phantom shape of him inside of you. 

Besides, it’s not even like you could avoid him if you wanted to. You were scheduled to go over more sequencing today with Miguel, and you were dead set on not blinking first in the post-sex-awkwardness stand-off. 

“Hey, Miguel!” your voice reverberated in the vast space. 

Several agonizing moments later, his platform lowered enough for you two to start conversing. If he was at all bashful about seeing you, the man didn’t show it. 

“Good. You’re here.”

“Yep.” 

Miguel was all business. “I want to go back to the fight you had with your father. Lyla, take us to timestamp 46:90:45.”

Damn, and here you thought you were good at compartmentalizing. You did your best to hide any disappointment from reaching your face, playing along as if he hadn’t seen every crevice of your body the night before. 

***

Days turned into weeks, and you eventually, reluctantly accepted that Miguel had told you the truth that night. What you two had shared was really just a one-time lapse of his frighteningly strong self-restraint. 

You were enjoying a rare night in, parked on the couch, takeout boxes strewn about the coffee table, your favorite trashy reality show playing on your TV. You’d gotten injured taking down a Doc Ock variant a few days ago, and Miguel benched you to recuperate. You were all too happy to take a break, from him and Spider-Girling. Despite your complicated feelings for the man, he assigned a recently displaced Spider, Spider-Woman 1357, to pinch hit for you in your dimension while you healed up. It was the first time since you became a hero you had a day off with peace of mind. 

Just as you started another episode, a tingle raced down your spine. Your spider-sense. Something was about to happen. Out of all the possibilities of what could have followed, a portal opening in your living room and Miguel walking through was the last thing you would’ve guessed. You leapt up from the sofa. 

You instantly regretted your appearance - messy bun, no makeup, and ratty sweatpants. Miguel, as usual, looked immaculate in his skintight spider-suit. 

“Hey.” 

“Is this a booty call?”

“No.” 

“Don’t bullshit me–”

“It’s not, I swear! Coño, I came to check on you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Why not?”

“Because you could have messaged me on my gizmo. It’s your preferred method of communication after all, ever since the last time you were in my apartment.” 

“May–”

Lyla appeared over his shoulder. “He missed you, that’s all.”

Miguel growled at his AI. “I’m going to sentence you to robot death via spreadsheets.” 

Lyla wasn’t threatened in the slightest. “Thank me later.” She disappeared before Miguel could try and make another retort. 

“You missed me?”

“No,” his denial was instant. “I just…I–”

“This is a booty call!” you crumpled up a napkin and chucked it at his large form. “Go home, Miguel!” 

He didn’t budge. “It’s not a booty call. I…what are you watching?”

“The Realest Housewives of Manhattan. What, don’t judge me!”

Miguel couldn't keep his face straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Seeing his eyes crinkle with amusement was infectious. You threw another napkin ball at him and then composed yourself. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. “Why are you here? Be honest with me. It’s the very least I deserve.”

“I wanted to see the shocking expensive bed frame you expensed to HQ for myself.” 

“You said I could and you didn't set a spending limit.” A wicked little grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. The bed frame from Restoration Hardware had been your own private form of revenge. “And I’m supposed to believe you wanting to see my bed – my bed that you broke–”

“Hey! We broke the bed–”

“--is not your thinly veiled excuse for seeking another roll in the hay? Enough with goddamn mind games Miguel.” He tried to speak but you pushed on, “I’m tired and this is the last thing I need.”

Miguel sobered. He hung his head. His mouth seemed to fight the words as they left his lips.  “Alright, fine. I missed you.” 

You ignored your heartbeat’s sharp increase and schooled your features to maintain a neutral appearance. “I have some extra Pad Thai if you want.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“So this may not be a booty call, but does anyone other than Lyla know you’re here?”

“No.” 

You nodded. “Come. Sit. I just started the episode where Beverly throws her poodle a forty thousand dollar birthday party.” 

“Nothing you said just now made sense,” Miguel protested, but took a seat on your couch anyway. 

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed!! Miguel has fully rotted my brain so I thought it only fair to share the horniness. Of course I have more imagined in this AU, fingers crossed I can find more time to write (comments and reblogs and likes help!)

Translations:

Mierda - Shit 

cariño - dear

bebita - baby

Gracias a Dios - Thank God

Ven aquí - Come here

¡Coño! - Damnit!

¡No más – basta de esto! -No more, enough of this!

Hermosa - beautiful

Vamos, bebita - Come on, baby

Taglist: @plethora-of-imagines, @itdobe-liza @absolutelybloodyhopeless @ninebluehearts, @oscarissac2099 @trinthealternate

[pxssyboy]

Me and my girl best friend used to have sleepovers all the time before I transitioned. Then my parents wouldn't let us until now that she came out as lesbian. I'm so excited we can do this again so I arrive at her house super early. Her parents are out so it's no problem.

She puts some pop songs on and we start baking muffins. I feel a little silly about how girly the activity is, but it's a tradition so I don't complain. She has matching aprons for us with the words "besties forever" which I don't remember but she convinces me they're part of tradition.

Then it's time for "makeover" which I am really reluctant about. "Come on, boys wear makeup too, don't they?" she insists. So I let her and she makes me look really girly. Just looking in the mirror makes me pretty dysphoric but she just smiles and says I look pretty and should wear makeup more often.

I feel a little down so I decide to go take shower. But when I'm done I can't find my pjs in the bag I packed. I ask her about it and she offers to lend me some of hers. I agree since we're almost same height but what she then gives me makes me hesitate. It's silky pink top and panties. I tell her I refuse to wear so revealing clothes but she just laughs and calls me silly. It's not like she's never seen my body before, right? I want to disagree but my towel starts falling so I just resign and run tj the bathroom to change into her clothes.

When I look in mirror I can see my nipples through the fabric and my pubic hair around my pussy. Along with makeup I can't help but thinking I look like a girl.

As I emerge from bathroom my friend examines how I look and smiles. "You actually look cuter than I do in them. I think I'll give them to you"

I want to protest that I don't want these clothes but she's dragging me into her room and starting a pillow fight. That takes my mind off my dysphoria and I don't even mind how my tits bounce as I jump.

Then we cuddle on sofa to watch a movie. Few minutes in she puts her hand under my top and slowly traces her fingers upwards. I cough a bit to bring her attention to what she's doing but she just keeps on until she touches my nipples. I hiss at that and try pull away. She shushes me and keeps on circling my nipples.

"I thought you were a lesbian..." I say uncertainty. "Yeah I am" she says absently, still paying attention to the movie.

That calms me down a little. I tell myself that this is just us being comfortable, nothing sexual, so I let her grope my tits throughout the entire movie.

As the end credits roll she sighs happily and says "this is just like the old times". I agree and we hug, content that we can do this again. As we let go she looks down at my panties and makes a sour face. "Do you keep your pussy so hairy on purpose?" she asks disgusted.

I am taken aback but I manage to stutter out that it makes me feel more like a man. She says it's unhygienic though and looks really ugly. I'm sad to hear it so when she excitedly offers to help me shave I end up agreeing.

She drags me to bathroom and takes my panties off. I'm really shy to be naked but she pays it little attention and takes out her equipment and gets to work. I though she was just gonna trim my bush but when she's done my pussy is so smooth it could be girl's.

"Mhm so pretty" she says as she caresses it. At this point I just let it happen since she's so casual about it. Then she declares it's time to go to be but doesn't let me even put my panties back on.

I take it that we're going to sleep so I get in bed and cover myself with blanket. She laughs and follows me under it. I am confused why she didn't take her own when she starts to eat me out. I throw the blanket off and want to shout at her but instead I moan as she sucks on my clit.

"W-what are you doing?" I ask between moans.

She pulls her head up and looks me in my eyes. "Isn't it obvious? I've had crush on you for ages! It's about time I act on it, don't you think?" she says and then she kisses me. I can taste my pussy on her tongue as I let her explore my mouth. Her hands once again find themselves under my shirt but this time she takes it off.

"God you're such a beautiful girl. I wish I had your tits and curves" she exhales between kisses.

I wanna protest that I am a boy but she feels so good and honestly, I'm not even sure myself. After all her calling me a girl made me so wet, there's no way a real man would ever behave like this.

So I let her take me and as she's once again eating me out she stops and looks at me in all seriousness. "I need you to know that I'm a lesbian though. So I hope you don't still think you're a guy. I'd never have sex with a man."

With my head so hazy I just nod, but it's not enough. She wants me to say it. "I'm not a guy" I whisper.

"What are you then?"

"I'm a girl. Please don't stop I'm so close. I'll be your girlfriend, I'll never say I'm a boy again, please just continue!"

She seems to be satisfied with that as she finally gets back to her job and makes me orgasm for the first time in my life.

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Okay so now that the semester is over, here is a list of actual things my paleontology professor said/did during lecture and discussion:

“I've watched this like 20 times now” (Prehistoric Planet 2 trailer)

“Hi yes I am me, an exemplar of our species. A prime specimen.”

*visible confusion while reading the Colossal website*

“Turkeys can be terrifying. Birds are terrifying in general”

“That’s David Attenbourough not a bird.”

“Thank you for clarifying.”

“You’re welcome! It’s what I’m here for! This is why I have a Ph.d!”

“You need to have a healthy bullshit meter to read any paleontology paper.”

“As I keep telling you, life hates us.”

“Look at the size of the head compared to the body. This is just stupid.”

“Look at the butt of that thing!”

*measures with hands on screen*

“This is a stupid looking animal.” (Cotylorhynchus romeri)

"for example comparing femur robustness is ... what does that even mean?"

“You can laugh…this is a stupid looking creature!”

“Then of course you have your penis worms.”

“Holding fossils from the Burgess Shale is a religious experience.”

“It would be a very mossy world, which I am not opposed to. I like moss :)”

“Taxonomy is a clusterfuck.”

“This is probably one of the most ridiculous animals to have ever evolved.” (Whales)

“It looks like a strange monster from the black lagoon.” (Maiacetus)

“It’s a magical Liopleurodon!”

*does push ups on a table to show us how a fish would have walked*

*showing us a video of a crocodile taken by someone in the water*

“Do NOT do this. Don’t jump into the water with a crocodile. It will end very badly :(“

“This was like one of the weirdest papers I’ve seen. Alright so Ken Carpenter is a very legitimate paleontologist in Colorado. He normally worked with dinosaurs but he also decided to try and figure out how mosasaurs swim. So you look at the skeleton but then you also put two undergrads in a pool, one grabbing the other one's legs to see how that double-limb locomotion would work. It's like the kookiest thing I’ve ever seen published… but yeah I'm not even sure how he got the approval for this… I don’t think this was grant funded… “I would like some undergrad volunteers to jump in a pool, one holding the other ones legs to see if they will drown.””

*rants about the size of the mosasaur in Jurassic World and debates with a student whether or not an actual size mosasaur could pull a T. Rex into the water*

“I like owls. They look like they are wearing trousers :)”

"The Ice Age movie was a missed opportunity. There were so many cool animals they could have used and they didn't use ANY of them! There were giant ground sloths that were so big you can stand in their fossilized burrows! Yeah sure we have that one guy...what's his name...Sid? Yeah sure we have Sid but Sid is NOT a giant ground sloth. That's not even mentioning all of the horses and bison and bears and lions! Its disappointing!"

...

"I was on a podcast about this :D"

[writingforatwistedworld]

Ah, I hope this isn't annoying, but I couldn't resist! I just read the request for the self-aware au, for a player who is actually a god and I really LOVED the idea!!! So if it's not too much trouble, could I ask for the exact same idea only with Ruggie, Riddle and Ace?

By the way, I love your blog and your work, I love your creativity!! ❤️❤️❤️

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsebility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, religion, obsessiveness, murder, blood, beheading, violence, death

My works are not meant to be taken seriously. Neither am I telling you in what kind of religion you are supposed to believe in.

Riddle Rosehearts/Ace Trappola/Ruggie Bucchi-Player is a real god

God of law and order

Oho, so we are actively trying to make him loose his mind (mhm good plan good plan)

I mean, come on, the Queendom of roses is a place I would rank “third-most-not-so-fluffy-relationship-with-you” and he grew up in there so what did you expect?

Something normal? Ha! You are making me laugh

But here we are, croquette master with a hedgehog in his hand in person, almost dropping his needely friend

But how did he even find out? Well… Leona. Leona and a lot of ink (you catching my drift, right?)

Things were looking south and everything was just so…. so… unruly

Mhm I can see how a God of law and order popped a blood vessel in that kind of situation

And whilst you aren’t some kind of being creating bloodshed and war getting hit by a rule book and whatever kind of abilities you have has to hurt

Also it was giving away who you truly were

I mean, yay? Now you have an (somehow possible) even more obsessive follower…

And they all wonder why he suddenly became so religious

Even if you are a more “chill” kind of entity concerning your field of work (the market of Gods is always having too little workers) he is still like “Nope Trey. Imma go pray to ruler number 168” or something like that

Like I said, religious

But oh dear heavens (u get it heavens in like… ok I’ll stop) someone disrespects you or tries to take his seat as “most devoted follower of the month”

Uh… he was in the mood for a “realistic” demonstration of how the Queen of Hearts would deal with annoyances

Just tell him that you are proud… otherwise I’m not sure that even the hedgehogs would tolerate him and his… rather red behaviour

God of trickery

Hmm… this one is kinda tricky

You see, he is from the Queendom of Roses but at the same time he is not powerful enough to do that much damage… with magic at least

When Ace found out that you were everything but a ordinary student you two were in a rather unhappy situation

I mean, either you make that huge glass thingy behind Riddle trip and fall or you can eat rose bush which it was swinging around like crazy… pick your poison

Ace isn’t the fatest tool in the shed but when you, a magicless student, suddenly used something akin to magic he knew that something was up

And who would have known, maybe if it wasn’t for the bad parenting of Riddles mother you may have hidden this until the day you would go separate ways

But oh well, seems like fate decided it wanted him to be religious

I mean, a God of trickery, something like that is perfect for him!

Not to mention that you are way more approachable than some God of law and order because who would want to follow such a stiff deity? (Jokes on you Ace but Riddle...)

Despite him being on the “chill, man” side I can also see a huge spike in religiousness in his personality

I mean, come on, it’s now literally proven with his own two eyes that God (or Gods) at least exist

You know that meme “he don’t but-YES IT DOES!” that’s him

My man just turns feral when someone dares to take your prescious attention and time away from him

Literally a menace, and not the peaceful kind

Before you know it he is asking you if you can help him dig holes for a “garden project”

In the middle of the woods. Aha. Totally believable

Well, all I can say is that Trey will probably miss the kitchen knife... yeah I would buy a new one and never use the old one again...

You know... Maybe the cake looks a bit red if he were blind and never noticed anything.... It's a “garden project”, ok? Let the man raise his Gladiolus, Aconitum, Lycoris and Chrysanthemum

God of kindness and equality

So we feeding the carnivores today? Sounds like a plan. Not a good one but at least it is one

Ruggie has always been someone who needed to clench his teeth and do stuff other people wouldn't do simply to have his basic needs fulfilled

So imagine you standing there one day, opening up that you are in truth literally the things he had been craving all his life for

Mhm, I am just had he doesn't have rabies. You could have fooled me with how aggressive he becomes towards new people (and also your own little circle to be honest) after finding that out

Here we are, Leona is dealing with his stuff in an unhealthy way and someone needs to step up and bring him down to earth again

But imagine his surprise that you were actually the good of kindness after you slapped our local lion who may or may have not escaped from the Zoo next door back into reality (and out of his doom)

After he spends even more time with you it starts to make sense thought

Even though he is the closest person to Leona which could be used for someone's benefit people still tend to be at least wary of him because... well broken bones hurt, you know?

But here you are, holding out your hand to him, offering him your kindness and friendship

Though you could have said “marry me” because win his eyes that is exactly what you did

And who is he to say no to such an perfect being literally being from heaven (or whatever higher place)

He is scratching, biting, kicking and using all the dirty tricks in the book just to keep you alone, isolated and all for himself

Of course he won't do that in front of you, he isn't a monster! Such a pure and perfect being lime you doesn't need to witness such a thing!

If you thought that Diasomnia is already bad then I would say yes, he is only a teeny tiny bit better than them

Why? Oh well, he doesn't have the magical or physical strength to start a war

That doesn't mean he won't leave you alone

Oh no

You will spend somewhere the rest of the time he exists in a small in the middle of nowhere thinking that everyone despises you

He has a way with words (and sharp, suspiciously red teeth) you know?

[vigilskeep]

Out of curiosity, what direction would you have taken Cullen's character in Inquisition? Or would you have included him at all? :3

oh man well

first of all i’m not sure i’m the best person to answer the question because i am profoundly uninterested in cullen. even in dao, his most cohesive appearance by a mile, where he features in my favourite origin, he um... he sure is there! he serves his narrative purpose! i don’t know what else to say

more in the spirit of actually answering your question, i think dragon age inquisition is as fundamentally incapable of making good use of cullen as a game that would make cullen part of its main squad inherently must be. dragon age inquisition is not capable of breaking down what is wrong with the templars, which is why you get... i don’t know why people call it a redemption arc even in quotation marks. he just shows up. he still supports the templars, and would rather you go to them, who shouted you down in the street, than the mages, who by all appearances straight up invite you over. he has not had to face the consequences of his work in the templar order or his treatment of mages; for all intents and purposes, from his perspective, all he did wrong was not notice that his knight-commander was an anomaly who was crazy. he is fundamentally the exact same guy who told me to my face mages were not people, except he’s polite about it now, because this is dragon age inquisition and we all just need to shut up and come together to defeat the Real Problems. it is completely canonically possible for him to have taken part in two circle annulments, one of which he personally instigated. dragon age inquisition does not care!

so to take cullen in a decent direction for his character—if you insisted on bothering to include him in yet another game at all—you would have to be writing him in a different game than the one where the hero has no choice but to lead an organisation with cassandra and cullen at their side, where every challenge to that organisation’s divine purpose is laughed off. (meanwhile one seemingly humble elven apostate, who actually has entirely other concerns, is the only compulsory mage. no rebel aligned mages are even optional companions in the game.)

i am interested in what it would theoretically take to write a compelling ex templar character. my own inquisitor is an ex templar! dragon age is a series designed to challenge your ideas of what backgrounds allies can come from, and designed to throw in your face that, for better or worse, good or evil, everyone on every side is also a person who believes they have their own reasons to do what they do. but if you wanted the ex templar character to be cullen, you have to challenge the foundations of his beliefs as a templar. you have to make him... actually regret being a templar? criticise the templars for anything other than imperfect service to the chantry and impolite wording of their deadly prejudices? you might even want to consider centring his personal quest on, hey, the terrible things he’s done and believed, not on the harm to the poor little stoic self-sacrificing templars

sorry this is coming across a little aggressive. you see why i’m the wrong person for the job. i don’t like cullen and he was an antagonistic force in the previous two games who my characters felt personally threatened by. i don’t see why i have to swallow that he’s one of the good guys now without him facing a single consequence, much like cassandra, who was introduced interrogating my friend. (but hey, this religious army has good intentions!) and i certainly don’t see why you would not only do all that but make him the face of a ludicrously flat, wish fulfillment romance only available for women of the conventionally attractive races (available for circle mages! with a throwaway line about how she’s not like the other girls to address it!) to get straight married and settle down with a dog and a picket fence. (i’m not saying there is no place for wish fulfillment romances whose only stumbling block is cutesy awkwardness. but that’s not what dragon age is for! where’s the teeth! it’s representative of a wider tone change in dai that i deeply dislike and if i get onto it i’m going to make this post so long. and with this man?)

idk i think cullen should have been the rogue templar breaking rules to hunt wardens in awakening and sigrun should’ve got to cut his head off. the end. that’s my ideal. sorry again

[yumimak]

Fourth Times the Charm - Prolouge

Hey guys! So I had this idea for an angsty Neteyam story that was a mix of like ‘one sided’ enemies to lovers but also grumpy/sunshine without making Neteyam a total butthole. I think this prologue gives a good idea of how I am going to do that, I really hope you enjoy!

Please read the A/N at the end if you are intrested!!

Neteyam

Finding a mate was something most Na’vi looked forward to. Traditionally, it was the first step that was taken after passing the rites of passage. That special bond was desired and sought out by almost everybody.

I, for one, was never really one of these people.

I was one of the youngest people to pass their Iknimaya and was the youngest to become a warrior in our clan. My father was Olo’eyktan and some day I would be too.

Knowing this, the idea of finding a mate never really interested me past the age of 10. From a young age I’ve been very aware of the possible threats posed against our clan. So from that age I decided that I would put all my energy towards being the best warrior and future leader I could be.

I believe it was a good choice on my part. After all those years I’d become the esteemed warrior I’d always wanted to be. Through it all my clan stayed safe and I’ve always had my family by my side.

What more could I ever want or need? What more fulfillment would a woman give that I had not given myself?

Sadly, my logic did not align with the tradition of being a future leader. Because where there was an Olo’eyktan there would always be a Tsahik. So although I was okay with not finding a mate, the lack of having a future Tsahik was starting to concern much of the clan, especially my parents.

My mother and my father had one of the best love stories I have ever heard in my life. They knew how great the right bond could be and it was evident they wanted me to find my mate so I could be as happy as they are. They saw how hard I worked to be the warrior I am today, there was no doubting my skills or capability of being Olo’eyktan someday. So now all they wanted was for me to settle down and find my Tsahik.

They never forced me though, only making a few comments here and there. They tried to be understanding, telling themselves I was just taking my own path and would eventually find a woman in the clan that I’d want to be with. But on the other hand, it was traditional to be mated by the age of 21 so when I had yet to show interest in finding a mate of my own at 18, they began arranging women for me to court. 

I know that it was their last resort, they had never really liked the idea of forcing mates together since they knew first hand how powerful a bond was when you truly loved the other. I think that’s why they never forced me to actually bond with any of the women permanently. I think the plan was to encourage the idea of how great having a mate could be.

Their plan failed.

In one year I went through three arranged courtships, each possible mate worse than the one before.

There was Tallulah, Lì'ee, and Aìyana.

Tallulah was picked from our clan and our courtship lasted a mere three weeks. She was a year younger than me but I had known her my entire life seeing as she was a good friend of Kiri’s. She was intelligent, beautiful, and a talented forager. They were great traits for a Tsahik to have which is why I think my parents picked her. Although I admired her for all of those things, I could not for the life of me see her as more than my little sister’s friend.

Luckily Tallulah didn’t take me ending the courtship too roughly. She understood and simply hoped the two of us could still stay cordial. There were no hard feelings; her and Kiri remained friends, and Tallulah and I never had any animosity towards each other.

I wish I could say the next two ended the same.

Lì'ee was a young woman from a nearby clan in the forest. She was the oldest child of the Olo’eyktan, and although whoever she mated with would become the next Olo’eyktan, she couldn’t seem to find a mate.

That should have been an instant red flag to my parents.

Lì'ee and I’s courtship lasted three months and it started off great. She was very sweet and caring, raised to be an amazing Tsahik. I could see myself building a future with her, until we hit the three month mark. By then I began to understand why nobody had wanted to court her.

She was atrociously needy and practically demanded all my attention. It didn’t matter if I was with my family or friends, or even out on a hunt. If I was not by her side 24/7 I would come back to her upset or even crying. I had tried to comply with her needs, reducing my personal and even family time to be with her, but it was never enough.

On top of all of that she had absolutely no backbone. Yes, she was sweet as could be and it was lovely, but that was all she was. She couldn’t stand up for herself at all whether in a social setting or out in the wild. I swear Tuk was mentally stronger than Lì'ee even at her young age.

Yet, I put up with all of these flaws hoping one day I would get used to it or she would grow the fuck up. That never happened, and somehow it got worse.

I was never intimate with Lì'ee. Maybe a kiss on the cheek or the back of the hand but that was all. It never felt right to do anything more with her but she could not respect that. She constantly begged for more, to be intimate even when I stated I had not wanted to be. My last straw was when I overheard her speaking to a group of girls about our ‘amazing sex life’ that never was.

I never desired to be rude to the girl at any point, and I in no way wanted to ruin her pure reputation by telling her lies. So I kept her actions a secret from all, even my parents asked why I ended our courtship. To them I was just being picky.

Lastly, and worst of all, there was Aìyana.

When choosing my next possible mate they decided to look further than our clan and other forest clans all together. Aìyana was the daughter of Öyatx, an Olo’eyktan of one of the Ash clans.

The ash people were located high in the mountains where the forest ended far from the Omaticaya. They were mighty, composed of the strongest warriors of Pandora. An impenetrable force for any enemy who even thought of going against them.

Though they were so strong, they were also some of the most peaceful Na’vi to walk our land. They never exerted their strength unless absolutely necessary. When I met Aìyana it had been decades since their clan had seen a war.

My parents knew this which is why I think they were so quick to introduce us and begin our courtship, because if we mated our clan would be forever connected to the ash people. I would find my mate and the clan would have the fiercest warriors of Pandora backing us. 

What could go wrong?

Me not liking her.. that’s what I thought could go wrong. There was no way I could reject the daughter of Öyatx without there being major consequences for our people.

Luckily, not liking her was nearly impossible.

I was star-struck the moment Aìyana stepped foot in our clan. Yes, all the women before were beautiful, but nothing compared to her beauty. Her skin was dark blue, closer to a shade of gray than the more vibrant blue I was used to seeing. Her hair, long and soft, was pure white complimenting her glowing freckles beautifully. And then there were her eyes, a shade deep red that I thought I could never get tired of gazing into.

Her physical beauty only scratched the surface of the many layers of Aìyana. We instantly connected in our first conversation. She was oh so funny, with a beautiful smile that could brighten even the gloomiest of days.

She was the first woman I genuinely desired a courtship with.

As time progressed I never lost feelings for her, they only seemed to grow far past the capacity I believed feelings for people could grow. She was the strong warrior I expected her to be considering where she was from, but she was also so sweet and caring. She knew how to be soft and open up about her emotions, but she also knew how to listen when you spoke. She was one of the most understanding people I thought I could ever meet.

I never opened up about my emotions, as I grew up I only ever felt that it was a burden for whoever I decided to tell. But with Aìyana, it was different. She’d insist on me opening up to her when I was obviously obsessed, ensuring I knew I didn’t have to but also promising it was okay for me to open up to her.

I was so nervous the first time I opened up to her, fidgeting with my hands until she took it upon herself to hold them.  Talking to her was like nothing I had ever felt before. She didn’t make fun when I spoke of my hurts, nor did she laugh when a few tears embarrassingly fell from my eyes. It was so relieving that I almost didn’t know what to do with that empty space where my burdens would normally sit. But when she held me that night, I decided to devote that space to her. 

She was the first person I felt truly saw me, the first person I was ever truly intimate with, and the only person I wanted by my side for the rest of my life. I was totally and irrevocably in love with her.

We courted for six months before we decided we wanted to finally mate with one another. It was traditional in arranged courtships for the soon-to-be mated pair to visit the others clan for a celebration of the clans union before having another celebration in the clan they planned on residing in.

In respect of this tradition, Aìyana, my parents, and I all flew to her clan up in the mountains. It was dark there but very beautiful. Aìyana was quick to show me around and introduce me to all her friends. I was nervous that they would not like me, but they were inviting and I felt as if I fit right in.

A certain part of me was anxious that something would go wrong, but I knew that it was just my nature and that after six months with Aìyana nothing could go wrong.

And nothing did for the first few days, but looking back, I wish I had listened to my gut because things can always go wrong.

- Two years ago -

The night here is so much different than at home. There are much less trees and far more caves up here, it would be much harder to navigate if it wasn’t for the white glow of the moon right now.

Today Aìyana and I did not spend as much time together as usual. It was more of a quality time day for her to be with her family and friends alone before our celebration tomorrow night. 

I spent the day with my family, which was fun, but now since night had fallen I was on my way to Aìyana’s hut where we planned on meeting.

When I arrive though she isn’t there. I brushed it off though, I was early and she hasn’t seen her friends in six months, she wasn’t obliged to rush back to me when after tomorrow she’d be leaving her home to officially become Omaticaya.

Uncomfortable with staying in her hut while she wasn’t there, I decided to take a little walk. Maybe she’d be home by the time I got back. 

My walk is peaceful, by this time most have retired to their huts for the night. I venture into a small bout of trees similar to the forest, exploring more of this foreign area when a laugh catches my attention. It’s a beautiful harmony that I recognize as none other than my Aìyana’s.

I smile, glad to hear she is enjoying her time with her friends, before deciding to continue my walk in the opposing direction. As I turn through another woman's voice stops me in my tracks. “He cried?” she laughs.

“Like a little baby,” Aìyana responds.

My heart sinks, she couldn’t possibly be talking about me.

Another woman speaks next, “So much for mating with a ‘mighty warrior.’ Who would’ve thought Toruk Makto’s son was so soft.”

“Why are you even staying with him?” another asks.

“Well, it would benefit both of our clans. And my dad plans on mating me with someone else anyway, so why not just get it over with instead of wasting a bunch of time picking suitors.”

“Okay but you’ve got to tell us.. how’s he in bed?”

Aìyana sighs deeply, “Amazing in theory, sometimes I’m just not mentally there, it’s whatever. Anyways, speaking of ‘being in bed’ I’ve got to be somewhere before a certain someone comes crying at my doorstep.”

The group laughs bidding Aìyana goodbye, but I can’t help the pang of hurt that I feel in my chest. Especially when one of the girls yells after her, ‘Tell Tavo we said hi!!!’

My heart sinks impossibly deeper in my chest, who the hell was Tavo?

I decided to extend my walk, trying to convince myself that I was making all of this up. But how could I when I’d heard it all with my own two ears.

After prolonging my return to Aìyana’s tent, I decide to finally make my way back. I needed to speak to her about what I had heard. Despite it breaking my heart, another completely delusional part of me believed that we could work past this.

As I arrive at her tent all hope drains from my body though. The sounds from inside the tent burn their way into my ears. The mix of moans between the woman I love and a man that was not me fills me with dread, betrayal, and anger.

A part of me wanted to barge in, embarrass the two and unleash my anger in a way suitable for the Toruk Makto’s son. In a way that would prove to her that I was way too mighty to just sit back and take this.

But the reasonable part of me tells me it’s not worth it. It tells me that although I love her to the moon and back, the extent of her love hardly reached the forest.

-  Present -

That night I went straight to my family hut, holding back the tears that threatened to pour from my eyes as I told my family we were leaving. My parents attempted to argue it but I was persistent so, despite their wishes, we left.

I spent the entirety of the next week sulking alone in my hut. Seeing as nobody had a clue as to why I ended things with Aìyana, everyone was concerned. I just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

But when Aìyana’s father became infuriated with my impulsive decision to leave and not mate with his daughter, the threat of war knocked at our clan's door. I could tell my father blamed me for this, he was mad that I had ended things and even more upset that I wouldn’t tell anyone why.

That next week Kiri came to my hut in the night. She’d brought me dinner and sat with me as I ate. She didn’t try to force me to speak or anything, she just wanted to know that was okay and that meant the world to me.

That night when she left she gave me a big hug, my first hug since Aìyana. I did the one thing I’d been trying to do at that moment, I broke down like the crybaby I am. 

It was humiliating, crying in my little sister's embrace, but I knew that if I could trust anyone it would be my dearest sister Kiri. So when she pulled away and asked me to talk to her, I did. I told her every event of that wretched night, leaving her stunned and angry.

Before leaving that night Kiri promised she wouldn’t tell a soul of what happened. She did ask me to at least tell our father that Aìyana was unfaithful, she promised he would understand.

Trusting Kiri, I told my dad that I had overheard Aìyana’s betrayal and that’s why I had decided to leave her. To my surprise my father more than understood, he was infuriated. I asked my father not to expose her though because although she had hurt me, I still felt a deep love for the woman.

He agreed but still with two furious Olo’eyktan’s butting heads, war was inevitable.

The almost two year fight was rough and draining for the clan, but when it did finally end, the Omaticaya came out on top.

Grieving my love for Aìyana was rough, but throughout the first year of the war I learned not to crave her, I learned to be alone again, and I had come to love it once more.

By the end of the war I was completely over the woman and what she’d done to me. I was myself again, strong and mighty all around. In pure spite, I gave up on keeping what Aìyana did a secret. 

With the humiliation of a cheating daughter, and having a war that could have been completely avoided if it wasn’t for her. The ash clan, that I am proud to have no more connections with, surrendered.

Now it had been a little over two years since the war had begun, and six months since it had ended.

Everything had been back to normal these past six months and I couldn’t have been happier.

Well, until today when I was told of my fourth arranged courtship.

I thought that I was past this shit, and that Aìyana was the perfect example that nothing good would come from this and that I was better off by myself.

That didn’t matter though because in one week I will be thrown down the rabbit hole again, but luckily this time I know what to expect. And I’d be damned before I got hurt all over again.

- - -

A/N:

Hi guys!! Okay so the reader will be intorduced in the next part! I really hope you are enjoying my story idea so far, I've been absolutly obsessing over the plot in my head. I really wanted to write more angst than my other story Anomaly (which I am still working on promise!) To all my current Anomaly readers, I have tagged you from my taglist from that story here so that you would know about the new story, but if you aren't intrested in being tagged on this one just tell me. :)) Okay okay, it's like three am, i'm going to sleep now. Much love to you all!!- Mak

Taglist:

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @peachycrime @jackiehollanderr @fanboyluvr @killua2dot0 @neteyamsbabymomma @lovedbychoi @aihimitsu @ken-zah @ghostmadeofglass @alfie2401 @awow-2

[linskywords]

(Please excuse the following ramblings. I blame the red wine and my over-enthusiastic anticipation for the sequel)

So Jack's self loathing of his sub designation was because of family attitudes (*cough* his dad) but what if Trevor's is the product of the hockey culture itself?

Like what if Trevor was playing in leagues above his age ever since he could remember. So of course he's subjected to seeing the older kids talk shit about subs in the locker room.

Just picturing baby Trevor watching the other kids gang up on a sub on the ice and call them terrible names.

And that just sticks and permeates in his mind. Sure, maybe his family is more supportive and he knows deep down it doesn't matter to them whether he's a dom or a sub.

But he just can't bring himself to tell anyone because he thinks it's some sort of shameful admission of not being good enough.

And maybe that's why he idolizes Quinn to such a level (real talk Trevor and Quinn's actual relationship is so funny to me. Quinn is just perpetually exhausted and Trevor is an overexcited puppy)

Like maybe one summer while Trevor is staying at the Hughes' lake house, he either catches Quinn subbing or Quinn has a heart to heart with him. And Trevor admires Quinn so much for being so sure of himself, even if he doesn't tell everyone in the world.

And sure, Trevor wishes that could be him. But he's stuck in a world of his own doing.

And he bro talks all of his totally real and definitely not made up domming stories with Jamie because he has a giant crush on him from moment one and will spit exaggerated lies for hours as they chill together on their rooftop because he will do anything to spend time with him.

And Jamie would accept Trevor no matter how he identifies. Jamie just shares dom stories with Trevor because, well, Trevor just gives off this persona of an almost stereotypical dom, so Jamie just assumes.

Like one day when they're chilling on the roof of their shared house, Jamie brings up how he thinks subs should have more rights, subs deserve to play in the league, etc. And Trevor gets so close to just blurting out his no good horrible secret until they're rudely interrupted by Jack calling him.

And maybe Jack offers to lend a hand (in the form of Nico) and (after Trevor's token panic about being found out) he agrees because if there is even a chance he can be as comfortable as Quinn, maybe he can tell Jamie.

So it turns into almost a training regiment (at Nico's request to frame it like training to not have Trevor freak out as much)

Trevor first starts coming over and just watching Nico and Jack scene. And at first he's fidgeting and wants to leave. But the second Jack goes down and goes all hazy eyed, Trevor is just hit with this pang of longing. Like he wants to experience that, even if it's just once.

And they work up from there. Trevor and Jack do small little things, like having Trevor be the little spoon, hand feeding etc. (Jack is ok with it because Nico is still domming but he has just become an extension of Nico, which is so hot in Jack's mind)

Eventually they work up to a scene. And Trevor wants nothing more than being held and loves soft scenes. He loves being taken apart while Nico whispers sweet nothings in his ear and Jack holds his ankles to ground him while Trevor cries. His favorite part is aftercare. He loves being the center of attention and falling asleep being the middle spoon.

....

Now I have no idea where it goes from there. Quite frankly, I'm out of wine and plus you are 100000x better of a writer than I am. I would love to know your thoughts (esp on Trevor's characterization)

Either way, I can't wait for the sequel and know it will be AMAZING! <3

Ahahaha this is amazing!! Your Trevor is so much less bitter and deluded than the one in my head. 😅 In my head, Trevor is super not okay with seeing Jack and Nico together because, like...what Jack is letting Nico do is wrong, right? If it's not wrong, why would Trevor have been depriving himself of this thing that he (er, everyone) wants so badly for so many years?

And, like, sure, he and Jamie can share scening stories, but everyone understands that that's part of the performance. That's what they need to do, to prove to each other that they're doing the thing they're supposed to. It's really impressive that Jamie doesn't slip up very often. Trevor's gotta learn from his example, because he has a sinking feeling he's worse at this than the other guys are, and he's got to get it together before he messes up for real.

[kafus]

ok i've decided i want to infodump about vee and nova a little after all! because uhh not only am i impatient because autism but i also. want to dip my toes into talking about this. just days ago i was still terrified but now i am Tentatively Brave... if i can talk about it here casually like this then i should be able to write a more formal summary later some other time

i've tagged this post appropriately (at least i think i have, feel free to suggest if i should add more) but also a heads up here too before i keep talking that while i'm not going into graphic detail on anything there are STRONG themes of organized sexual abuse of a child, sexual abuse of animals, and grooming! (there are no disturbing visuals in this post, just text)

IF YOU CAN'T READ THIS POST THAT'S OKAY I STILL LOVE U

takes a deep breath alright so the deal with these two. back all the way in 2021, i decided i wanted to make "vent ocs" as in i just wanted some concrete/consistent designs i could use in vent art drawings that weren't a direct reflection of what i envision myself to look like or whatever. i was going through a lot in 2021, in december 2020 i had just gotten my first big repressed memory back and my life was in a whirlwind of change and heavily increased PTSD and DID symptoms, so i was using art a lot as an outlet. in the end i settled on this drawing, based on the design taste i would have had as a young person (god the quality is so old now LOL i've improved a lot but anyway)

i was intending for these two to be just visual designs and nothing more than that but i got attached and actually ended up giving them a whole storyline and everything, which is something i admittedly hadn't done in a long time up to that point so that's cool.

the reason i preface explaining the premise of the storyline with this is because i think it's important to acknowledge that these two are intrinsically tied with my real life and the feelings i experience as a CSA/OA survivor. not because i think someone has to go through awful things to write or draw about them necessarily, but because i am passionate about expressing myself. it's important for me to be seen in some way, to be heard after years of silence. it is not safe for me mentally to share the exact details of my abuse online rn (and please don't ask for them!) but i also don't want these two to be removed from the message that i survived something and this is me making art about that in an abstracted and magical way with a fictional universe that brings me a lot of comfort. i hope this makes sense lol

oh and also with that in mind if you think for even a second any of this is a weird sex thing for me or some shit please stop reading this post and go do something else with your time. this is my trauma expression and i don't need to be compared to the people i was abused by when i was a literal toddler thank you!

AANYWAY so! premise! gonna be point blank with it! vee (not her original name but shh) is born as a normal 100% human girl, aka without the eevee ears and tail. she is groomed from a very young age (like, toddler age) and eventually abducted by her groomers which happen to be members of... well right now it's team rocket because i haven't spent the time to worldbuild a new villainous pokemon organization yet. roll with me here. she is taken to a remote facility out in the middle of fucking nowhere and is never returned to her previous life or family.

Why? well i'm glad you asked! the org is running a bunch of different experiments in this facility and one of them happens to be trying to enable humans reproducing with pokemon. this doubles as both a money thing and a power thing. they seek out a child as the victim of these horrible experiments because children are easily malleable. way easier to control a child than an adult who already has a firm identity/self.

vee is the child they chose. surgery is forcibly done on her to give her working eevee ears and tail, and also like, fuck with her body chemistry and stuff. she's biologically part eevee now. yes this is bullshit pokemon magic science LMAO but she is kept in this facility and chronically sexually abused for a few years by pairing her with various mons and trying to get eggs to happen.

the experiment isn't working though so they hypothesize that giving her a dedicated partner, especially of the same evolutionary line, would help, and they raise nova from birth as an eevee to take on that role. eventually the two of them are paired together. despite the acts they are forced to commit on each other and the abuse they endure, they actually become inseparable very quickly cause like. they don't have anyone else. and also they just genuinely care about each other. additionally at this point nova has evolved into an espeon and has telepathic powers, so him and vee can communicate linguistically with each other, so you know that helps

generally my current focus of this story is in the early years, when vee is 12 and younger, before they start realizing that shit is fucked up and they need to escape (up until that hypothetical point they have been successfully groomed into believing everything happening to them was not abuse/was normal). i have left out a metric fuckton of detail here just to get across the basic premise. i am constantly exploring vee's psyche, nova's psyche, it's like an in depth exploration of the mind of an abused child in horrific circumstances and god it's cathartic. i love these two so fucking much

btw i guess this art has more context now huh haha after i infodumped off the plot to my sister they looked at this art again and was like. OHHH THIS IS EVEN MORE OMINOUS AND HARD TO LOOK AT WITH CONTEXT. AND I WAS LIKE YEAH!!!! YOU SEE THE VISION!!! THE SYMBOLISM!! ETC!!!!

uh yeah if you read this far thank you and i just wanna say i've been building up the courage to talk about these two for GENUINELY two years, it has been over 2 full years since that initial drawing, and i am nervous and jittery posting this but i do not want to die without having shared my work with the world and i'm willing to take the risks to get my voice out there. so you reading it is very much appreciated ur like my first step into being more confident as a survivor lol

oh and fwiw despite these guys being so correlated with my trauma it's not offensive to make headcanons or ask me questions about them or compliment darker art of them however you want, in fact i love that shit!! please i've been holding these guys back for two years i have so much to say that hasn't been said. as much as i am nervous i am EXCITED

[tallochar]

Inspired, in part, by this post by @mzminola but also something I've been ruminating on for a couple of years now.

Talking about pre New52 canon here mostly, though opinions about New52 or post Rebirth canon are also welcome to be added on, just specify it so we don't talk at cross purposes?

One of the thing that messes with me as an adult thinking back on comics is that you simply cannot put Alfred as the single member of staff who is dealing with all of the Manor.

I mean you can, comic logic, Alfred Is Not Of This World, whatever you want personally want.

Me personally, I cannot.

I need Harold to be down in the Batcave dealing with that part of the property until he dies in the 2000s at the very least, but also, consider how many hours there are in each day and how much Alfred has to do and how he's always serving dinner in time and laundry is done and everything is restocked and yet he also has the time to be personally chaffeuring the members of the family around and someone is also going to be having to deal with the household expenses and count balancing and -- and --

Like all of that PLUS keeping up with the superhero stuff PLUS cooking what sometimes are LAVISH spreads (WHICH TAKES TIME! PREP WORK TAKES TIME! COOKING TAKES TIME! ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE ONE PERSON AND ALSO HAVE TO GO PICK THESE PEOPLE UP AND MAKE SURE THEY HAVE THEIR LAUNDRY DONE AND THE GARDEN IS NOT OVERGROWN AND THE HOUSE IS CLEAN AND -- AUGH)

I cannot just accept that Alfred is doing it all, on his own, with the occasional WE-affiliated-and-vetted company called in to deal with, say, catering for a big event or whatever.

Especially not if Bruce is young and Alfred's supposed to be raising him, like oh god no, which is why the idea @mzminola talked about in their post (Bruce raised by his relatives) has taken root in my brain and is now my own personal very much cherished headcanon and a source of plenty of excuses for Bruce but also varied and eclectic skills and connections.

But okay, let's say that Alfred got left in charge of just managing things for Bruce until Bruce is of age and can take over things himself (in theory, in practice Bruce definitely pushes all he doesn't want to deal with about the house on Alfred and all he doesn't want to deal with about the company on Lucius Fox and sets up a contingency to get Tim to deal with shit for Bruce if Bruce were to be unavailable / unsteady / acting sus), while Bruce is being passed around from relative to relative.

There's still the staff that the Manor had before the death of Thomas and Martha to deal with. Gotta downsize that but you cannot just boot everyone and close shop.

I mean, yeah you can, but also, some of those people were probably there for a long time and Alfred wasn't just going to throw them out.

The way things work out in my brain is if Alfred is the "face" of the staff and the only one who, usually, interacts directly with The Family, while the others are in the background minding their own business, asking no questions at all.

They probably lost some people in NML during the Manor collapse, and the staff had to go through the harrowing process of getting new people that they didn't know nor trust in and then do their own version of vetting and making sure there was nothing hinky about any of them and that they understood the importance of the privacy of their employers, etc. etc.

Some of them must have retired at some point or moved on and were let go with more than fair compensantion and retirement packages and some stuff actually got outsourced a bit as technology progressed and things changed.

Especially after NML, actually.

Alfred is not going to hire someone just to come by to do all of the laundry, but he might have a trustworthy laundry service that is Bristol-based and is used to dealing with Rich People without asking questions.

And I am not say that they have to be In The Know life Alfred and Harold.

Actually, I prefer the idea that they aren't and that they just have this cushy job and loyalty to the Waynes and are all well compensated for being quiet and dealing with stuff on their own.

Sure, Alfred deals with the supernatural side of things, absolutely, and I am sure he has state of art machinery for, say, dealing with the costumes after patrol, but the Manor is huge and the upkeed is time consuming and exhausting and Alfred is too busy to do everything on his own.

So basically what I am saying is:

I have a might need for Alfred and his skeleton crew of long-time, trusted employees who keep the Manor running and stay out of the way of the bosses and everyone lives better like that.

I need Alfred's list of Trusted People who can deal with the family's laundry without messing it up and come do repairs when they are needed Upstairs since Harold won't leave the cave.

Give me Bruce's different childrens' different relationship's with said skeleton crew and Bruce's own distant relationship with them too and their reactions to things.

Allow me to have the skeleton crew sticking around and keeping the Manor up and running whenever Alfred is off around the world with Bruce for recovery / training / support purposes or who are still there and keeping things going when Alfred is too busy feuding with Bruce to look after everything else.

[ficnoire2]

An Ode to The King, Briana Irene Matthews

When I say I love this character, I say it with my whole chest.  I cannot begin to express the joy I experienced when one of my fellow educators passed me this book and said “I’ve got a fantasy book for you, and there is a black girl on the cover.”  I am a child of The Neverending Story, Legend, Willow, etc (Google if you need to) and brown faces were few and far between, if there at all.  There are so many things I admire and appreciate about Bree Bree and the power she holds can’t be understated. 

*Spoilers Ahead so Exit Stage Left if You Need To*

Choices

In a story where choice has been hijacked for so many of our faves, I love the choice she makes at the end of Bloodmarked. To choose herself.  I know there has been controversy regarding this but fuck all that, she said what she said.  The fact that black girls need to be perfect and make decisions that are equally as perfect no matter what they are up against is absurd.  That line of thinking has real world consequences.  I love that she tried to consult with elders, those that came before her.  She seemed to be following this implied protocol that did not bear the fruit she’d hoped for.  

When she says, “I realize now why Jessie’s mantra to call root didn’t work for me.”  She said,  “Think of the power you possess and the woman who gave it to you.” I smile sadly,  “I used to think that woman was my mother, and through her, you.  Tried it her way and it didn’t work.  Because you all didn’t give me my power.”  I kneel to face the streams, thrust my hands into the earth from which they came. 

“I did.”

This was a hell of a scene because she is finally shutting off the noise of the outside world, the distracting chatter blocking her self actualization.  Arthur, the ancestors, the Legendborn, and choosing Bree.  Much like she puts the broken pieces of  Excalibur back together, she is in a sense doing the same for herself (pain welded blade).  It even bears a deep purple stone in the pommel. The color meant to speak to this pain, this literal and figurative bruising and beating she has taken.  In addition, the choice to go with Erebus and the uncertainty that hangs there was pure fearlessness.  As her character sheet says, she is intrepid, bold.  The way she is written, you just know it is in her soul.  As Tracy says in her dedication, For every Black girl who was “the first.”  Black is capitalized here, emphasized, because we are often demonized for making decisions or having experiences that those that came before may not have had the courage or opportunity to step into.  The First.  In Bree’s line everyone ran and she decided to stop running and turn to face the unknown, whatever may come with her chin up.  

In addition to being a clever badass, I loved watching how she navigated her relationships with Nick and Sel.  Again, another hot button topic where folks are clutching pearls and clenching ass cheeks.  I am not interested in “ship wars” but what did catch my eye was the way Bree allowed herself to be loved on.  The safety and soft intimacy she received and craved from Nick in a time where her world had been completely shattered was beautiful to read.  “I’m impressed, despite my still racing heartbeat.  How does he do it?  How does this boy navigate my emotions like a seasoned sailor, finding the clear skies and bringing them closer, when all I seem able to do is hold fast to the storms?”  He is patient with her.  The way he speaks, comforting and protective.  I love that she had this!  The giddiness at that age of meeting someone that makes you dizzy in the best way.  I love that Bree allowed herself to experience the respite Nick offered.  That relationship represents the light in her, hearkens back to a simpler time.

I also think Bree enjoys the challenge Sel presents.  Aside from him trying to kill her in the beginning (and being an all around asshole), she always seems to find interest in him (her shadow side).  “He’s dressed in black, as always, but his long coat is gone.  His tattoos are on full display below sleeves rolled at the elbow.  They wind down his forearms and wrists, and I can’t help but study them.  I wonder how far they go and how many he has before I remember that I detest him and shouldn’t care about his tattoos at all.”  

Bree is fiery (quite literally) and finds herself drawn to the darkness and mystery of Sel.  In truth, she likes to stir the pot.  When Vaughn is giving her shit about being Nick’s page, she intentionally fucks with him.  “But I’m not going to disappear.  And I don’t want to keep my head down.  Instead, I’m going to give Vaughn a glimpse of who I really am, and show him exactly who I’m not.”

She then throws the haymaker, “You’re a bigot and a bully, Scheafer.  You insult me because you think you know what I am capable of, but you don’t.  I must make you nervous, though, for you to expose your insecurities about your odds of success in the tournament.”

Long story short, Briana Irene is with the shits! How many times have you had to check in a loser such as Vaughn, who in all their mediocrity, thinks they are superior?  I love that she essentially says, “aight then.”

I say all that to say that I like that she is feeling her feelings.  She can acknowledge and accept the safety and easiness of Nick, while also reveling in the mystery and chaos of Sel.  Those two desires can (and do) live in the same body.  I love that this is confusing for her and she grapples with it because, what 16 year old wouldn’t! Low key/high key, folks my age would grapple with certain aspects of that but again, her choices.  

Bree is supposed to be complicated. At times infuriating.  I find it strange however, when folks don’t give her the space she has earned to develop.  So many of us Black girls are not afforded this space.  No room to grow, change our minds, or choose a different path.  She is grappling with grief and grief is messy, complicated.  The vessel in which she entered the world ceases to exist on the plane of the living and she is floating in the darkness and uncertainty of that.  “Your anguish is wrapped around your very heart.”   Not to mention navigating racism, sexism, supernatural beings, and understanding her own body and power.  That is a tall order.  She represents multitudes of girls who were “the first” and I am so glad I get to witness her in all her flaws and greatness.  THE KING.  Rumble black girl, rumble.  

[sunlit-haruka]

Arturo's talent confuses me a lot

Okay so on this fine 12:30 PM I was thinking about the newest QnA, and how DRDTDev said this in it

And it was always something that intrigued me a lot because I really could not figure out what it meant or why the exact ages of the cast were kept hidden. That is, until I started thinking about everyone's favorite(...?) Ultimate Plastic Surgeon, Arturo Giles. Specifically, his talent in question. Because to put it bluntly: How in the everliving FUCK is Arturo a Plastic Surgeon at his age Now you might wonder just what I mean by that, and as such let me run you down the requirements to be a plastic surgeon in the US from what I have researched:

Now obviously these are only three sources, and this is mainly referring to the US because that is where DRDT takes place, but the point still stands. For Arturo to become a licensed plastic surgeon, he would have to go through a six year program/residency for plastic surgery, obtain a bachelor's degree (or I guess whatever Hope's Peak's version of a bachelors degree is) which is canonically a four-year university in the DRDTverse, as WELL as an extra four years in medical school.

(Now fair warning, I am not the best when it comes to reading comprehension, so there might be some things in the screenshots I linked that I ultimately missed. And if so, you're allowed to (politely) point it out to me !) Even if there are a few things I misread, it still brings into question how Arturo obtained his talent when you look at his possible age Now obviously, as I mentioned before, the DT cast's actual age is a spoiler. But that doesn't mean we can't speculate based on the information we do have from the series

(A challenger has approached: Min Jeung /j) This line from the first bonus episode is the closest thing we get to a clear-cut age for the DT cast, where Unnamed Classmate / Mai says that Min is 18. Unfortunate jinxing aside, this also brings back up the fact that Hope's Peak in the DTverse is a four-year university course akin to US college (I'll actually include a screenshot this time)

So it can be assumed that this bonus episode (and I assume Xander's), takes place during their first year at Hope's Peak, and assuming that the rest of the cast is the same age they were all 18-19 during their first year. But that isn't all ! As remember, these guys have their HPA memories snatched from them, so let's cover that as well

Now, we don't know how long "a few years" could be. It could be only one year like Rose said initially, it could be two, three, hell ten for all we know. However, Min (as posted before) and Xander don't seem to have aged that much in comparison to their current appearences. So I'm going to assume (keyword here, assume) that about three years at most have been taken from them. as that would put them largely around the end of HPA. So with all of this in mind, that would mean that Arturo is around 19-22 during the events of the death game, but even with that considered, that still means that Arturo was scouted and given the title of Ultimate Plastic Surgeon at 18. And that is where my confusion lies since that...is basically impossible DRDT-Dev has clearly thoroughly researched all of the talents of the cast and how they work in the DTverse and in general seems to be very intricate when it comes to their writing, so I highly doubt they would make an oversight like this. There has got to be a reasoning for this. And I can think of three possible ones 1. Arturo is some kind of prodigy in the medical and cosmetic surgery field which could've led to him becoming a plastic surgeon much earlier in life than one typically would 2. Arturo is just straightup lying about his ultimate talent for whatever reason, possibly fabricating the license on his coat. He's obviously not faking his medical knowledge as we've seen in the actual series, but him faking his ultimate isn't exactly ruled out 3. The DRDT cast are much older then we or they realize, and there is another reason why they still look to be in their early 20s (I swear to god if this turns out to be some virtual world shit I am actually going to go insane /lh)

...Or the 4th reason that being I AM looking too deep into this, but whatever it's fun to overanalyze this shit Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear other people's opinions on this !