#it took me SO long to get this right for some reason

[cheriladycl01]

I need to go! No you need to race! - Max Verstappen x SwedishOlympicHockey! Reader

Plot: You get hurt during a hockey match at the Nationals and Mad Max makes a return for all the right reasons!

Credit to mverstappenn for the GIF

Usually yours and Max's timetable linked up, you'd be training or doing your tournaments from Monday to Wednesday which Max would join you on before you left in his jet with him to wherever his race was that weekend.

But this week you had a national tournament which was on a Saturday, Sunday where Max was in the world. It was race day for him, and he was using one of the televisions to watch your tournament being streamed.

He couldn't understand any of it, where it was in Swedish so he just watched on with some of the mechanics who knew you and were rooting for you.

It was a good game and you guys were winning, absolutely tearing up the hockey field of the stadium you guys were in. Every time you scored, everyone watching cheered and Max had a big grin on his face when it zoomed in on your face yelling in a smile.

He always found it funny when you smiled as you wore a mouth guard that made your cheeks look puffy.

But things took a turn, it was about 20 minutes until the end of your game and an hour before the race started. All the mechanics were crowed around the TV watching until one of the girls in the opposing team swung their stick up, just as another tripped you up causing the base of the stick to smash into your face.

Max's hand came up to cover his mouth and 'oooooo's' flowed around from the mechanics realizing what just happened.

"Is she okay?" one of them said.

"I could hear something break!" another admitted.

Max watched as a few girls helped you to stand, but it was hard your nose was streaming blood down your face and the knock had clearly made you a little fuzzy.

Max was frowning gripping his fists as he watched the girl who hit you argue with the ref and medics who came out. She was pretty much shouting while you held your nose to try and stop the blood flow coming out.

You were escorted off the pitch and Max immediately went to his phone hounding you with messages asking if you were okay.

When that didn't work he proceeded to blow up your fathers phone who had been at the match in person and would be with you, which also didn't work.

He was so caught up with trying to get in contact with you that he didn't see Christian come up to him.

"Max?" Christian asks tentatively having heard what happened from the mechanics.

"I need to go!" Max exclaims looking up still having no word from your family on how you are doing.

"No, you need to race!" Christian says looking to his watch which showed it wasn't long before he needed to get in the car.

"I can't get in contact with her though, and what if something happens when I'm racing and she needs me!" he admits angrily raising his voice at his team principle.

"Max, calm down!" Christian says, his voice going a little gruffer.

"NO! I need to know shes okay!" he shouts and everyone can tell he's getting madder by the second. He only ever got like this when he was younger and someone crashed into him, he didn't have as well a hold on his emotions back then than he did now. But that was slowly slipping.

He was arguing back and forth with Christian until his phone rang. It was your contact number.

He didn't answer straight away frozen in shock from your number being up there.

"Schat?" he asks as he holds his phone to his ear.

"läckerbit" you tease knowing he hated that nickname.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you can tell he's worried from the tense and strain in his voice.

"Focus on the race, I'm fine and you'll see me soon" you smile into the phone making loads of kissy noises to him before he sighs nodding. You reassure him before you hang up turning to the nurse who was coming back with the x-rays of you nose.

"Yeah, it's definitely broken!" she sighs showing you making ou sigh too.

"Oooo and you have a mild concussion!" she smiles kindly making you laugh a little.

After the race and his podium, Max rushed as quickly as his jet provided to get to the hospital in Sweden you were being helped in.

He tried to sleep on the flight but was far too nervous to the point where he was pacing up and down the free walkway in the middle of the jet until the airhost made him take a seat handing him a beer to calm his nerves.

When he arrived to your private room in the hospital to see you scrolling through your phone he didn't fully take in your appearance at first.

He didn't note the greasy hair, or the bags under your eyes or the stuff helping fix your nose.

"Hey Schat!" he sighs and your head snaps up you look at him in disgust and shock.

"No! Don't look at me!" you cry pulling his hoodie up over you head and face to cover everything. And he couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. Hiding from him as if he hadn't seen you at your worst.

"Why are you hiding from me Princess" he laughs coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed after having taking a picture of your embarrassment.

"Mmmmm i look awful!" you say peeking at him through the hood.

"I think you look beautiful, like always" he grins, kissing you cheek not wanting to risk kissing your lips and numbing his nose with yours.

y/user

Liked by maxverstappen1 and redbullracing

y/user: This weekend in order between my hockey competition and Max’s race.

Image 1 - me and my girlie frejalarsson getting ready for battle (we had a national tournament)

Image 2 - Max at his race to me tacking a hockey stick to the face 😳 (my nose was bleeding pretty bad)

Image 3 - Max leaving after his race on Sunday to fly to me in Sweden to visit me in the hospital. (I looked awful and was embarrassed)

Image 4 - going with Max to Monaco to get cuddles from Jimmy and Sassy

It’s been eventful to say the least!

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redbullracing: get well soon y/n!

maxverstappen1: now I know how you feel when I get into a crash! Scariest moment of my life! So glad you are okay! 🥰

-> y/user: Love you Käresta 🤭🫶🏼

landonorris: get well soon y/n! Need you in the club asap 🍾🎈

-> y/user: i broke my nose Lando …

-> landonorris: so you can’t party with a broke nose? LAME!

-> maxverstappen1: I’m breaking your nose next buddy if you aren’t careful ❗️

-> landonorris: 😦

Instagram Story Caption: Lego Date 🧱

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[xi-chan]

can you pretty please write ratio sunday and maybe gallagher with a reader who just brings animals home like one day they come home with just a dirty feral ass cat out of nowhere

of course I can love <33 I love this idea

White Jasmine

sypnosis: one day, you bring home a stray- much to his surprise you found it on the street pairings: Ratio, Sunday and Gallagher x reader (Separate) wordcount: 338 (Ratio), 364 (Sunday), 292 (Gallagher) A/N: fluff and crack? I have NOT grasped enough of Gallaghers personality to write enough for him im so sorryyy

RATIO

"No." he said, nonchalantly as you pout with the kitten in your arms. "Why not? Look how cute he looks!" you said and your boyfriend grimaced as he saw the feral look on the 'kitten' that you held. "It looks like it wants to rip my face off. And here I thought you could use your brain for once." he added and you dramatically gasped, holding the kitten close to you. "How could you say that?! He's not an 'it'! Besides, all he needs is a bath, some food and some grooming. Plus, if he were to rip your face off, then it's because you made him uncomfortable." Ratio groaned in annoyance before you walked right past him, getting ready to help your kitten.

He followed quickly behind in fear for his dozens of books and whatever he has for studies. "What do you even want to name him?

"Emperor Maximillian Pusspuss."

"You cannot be serious."

Nevertheless to say, the two of you agreed on the name Cosine- mostly because that when Ratio tried to explain The Pythagorean theorem to 'an idiot' student (he called him that), the cat responded every time he said 'Cosine'.

After one long day of shopping, you opened the door to your shared house and noticed the lack of sounds from inside. Also, normally, Cosine would wait before the door once you entered, but not today. As you walked through the entire house, you stopped when you entered the bedroom, bringing out your phone to snap some pictures of the sight before you. There, your smart boyfriend laid on your bed with Cosine sleeping on his chest as he read a book. He looked up as he heard the shutter from your phone, "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, putting the book away. You smiled to yourself before walking up to the bed and petting Cosine, causing him to wake up and meow softly at you. "Well?" you took a glance at Veritas before you showed him the picture.

"Preserving memories."

SUNDAY

"Angel, this is the seventh time." he sighed, too tired to argument with you actually as you brought in yet another bird you found in Penacony. "But this one is injured." you said, showing your boyfriend the injured wing of the bird. He got up from his seat and you place the bird carefully on his hands when he stood before you. "Seems like a small fracture," he gently held the injured wing and inspected it before letting it rest beside the bird. "poor little thing." he quietly added before looking up to you. "I don't think we can care for another one, Angel." he said, but you shook your head, practically begging him. "pleaseeeee, the room is big enough for another, it can stay." he chuckled before the two of you began to walk to a distant room at Dewlight Pavilion.

Over the past 2 months, you have brought in six birds before this one, almost begging Sunday every time to help you heal them- after the fifth time you realized he only made you beg because he liked it. Together, with Robin's help, you have taken care of all the birds you have found. Even after they were healed, they chose to stay at Dewlight Pavilion, much like the origami birds that hid everywhere. Every morning, they would greet every with a delighted chirp and sometimes land on your or Robin's shoulder, but never Sunday's for some reason.

"Let me get some bandages and a intramedullary pin." you said, rushing to one of the shelves with the medicinal items. After making sure the bird was asleep for the procedure, you carefully drilled the pin into its bone before bandaging it up. Sunday gave you a small kiss as you placed the still sleeping bird on one of the pillows. "What was that for?" you asked, smiling at him. "I am not allowed to kiss you?" he chuckled before looking at the bird again. "This won't be the last, right?" You nodded and turned to him again. "Does it bother you already?"

"It does not. As long as there aren't too many staying here and you still remember that I'm present, of course."

GALLAGHER

"Here you g- what do you have there?" Gallagher just finished giving you your drink before he saw the stray hound that sat beside you. "Oh- this is Pee-wee." Gallagher remained silent before Siobhan laughed at the name behind him. "Pee-wee? That's his name?" he asked before silently mourning over the given name of that dog. You chuckled to yourself as you sat on one of the bar stools with your drink in hand and the hound also jumped onto one of the stools. "I was kidding, handsome. His name is Dexter. Fits more, don't you think?" you took a sip as he exhaled in relieve. "Oh thank god." Dexter swagged his tail as Gallagher pet him before turning to you. "Where did you get him?" he took notice of the amount of dirt in his fur and some injuries on his ears. "Near Dream's Edge. He was starving when I found him. Can we pretty please keep him?" Dexter barked at your idea and Gallagher found himself agreeing.

However, to what he was not agreeing was to you bring even more stray dogs to the bar, to the point where even the local Penacony monsters were unable to enter and the bar quickly lost customers.

"Ahem, don't you think you kind of... overdid it?" Siobhan asked you and Gallagher nodded, "They need to leave. Especially those who aren't even injured." you shook your head as you sat on the ground with almost five dogs trying to lie on your lap. "I'm unable to do so." Gallagher groaned as he gave up, sitting beside you and letting some dogs also lie on his lap.

"At least get them out of the bar. Argue with the Hotel Staff to let them wander around."

[graybby]

Awkward encounter

Lando Norris X Russell!reader

The F1 drivers twitch streamer sister series !

Part 1 / Part 2 here 1196 words

sorry for the wait guys <3

As much as Y/N would post on social media and perform to her twitch audience, she would be lying if she said that walking around the bustling crowds of F1 fans at the Aussie grand prix wasn’t terrifying her to her core. She was never one for big crowds - one of the reasons her older brother had only recently managed to convince her to attend his races this year with a lot of guilt tripping. Y/N didn’t help herself though, trying to conceal her identity constantly around her brother's fans when in his company had been grating on her over the years - especially with his rise in fame since joining Mercedes. She began finding it impossible to relax when in public with George, making her a partial recluse - much to her brother's disappointment. George understood why she wanted to hide her relation to him, but the wedge it started making between the two as she grew a larger fanbase irked him - he could tell it was bothering her too as her anxieties grew with it. Y/N loved her job streaming but sometimes doubted herself on whether it was the right choice for her - she found being in the public domain a constant surveillance, her every step taken outside her home found being criticised online. Imagining how much more intense the gaze on her would be if they knew the truth of her identity sent a chill down her spine. 

Despite this, the guilt of never being there in person to support her brother made her feel awful, eventually agreeing to Georges persistent begging to join him for a couple of the races on the 2024 calendar (as long as he helped conceal her identity). This left her to hide away inside the Mercedes hospitality out of view of any nearby cameras wrapped in a hoodie and sunglasses, anyone who asked about her was met with the reply that she was just a family friend who had never seen a race and wanted to finally enjoy one. The only people that actually knew her true identity being Toto and Lewis, George knew he could trust the two of them with this information. 

Out of sheer stupidity Y/N believed the hoodie and sunglasses combo that she wore in Saudi Arabia would continue to work in the blistering Australian heat. To her dismay she found herself sticking to the inside of her jumper, having to peel the fabric away from her skin as she made her way out of the bathroom that she had attempted to find some solace in by spending five minutes splashing cold water into her face. Unfortunately the bathroom was located a long way out from the Mercedes area, the more steps she took out the bathroom she could feel herself growing faint still being overwhelmed by the heat. Finding a close by wall to lean against as she tried to regain her composure as her body grew tired all to quick, Y/N found herself tearing haphazardly at the her hoodie to gain some relief - glasses clattering to the floor as the fabric passed over her head falling beside them to her feet. Her legs screaming out as she slid down the wall crouching into a ball in her fatigued state.

I’m so fucking stupid why did I think this could work today - annoying fucking sun.

Mentally cursing the weather and her own brain Y/N failed to notice the man approaching her - face full of concern for the young girl in front of him face pale and sickly. 

“Y/N?” 

She looks up - You’ve gotta be kidding me. 

 “Y/N what the fuck are you doing on the floor - you look like shit, what happened?” 

“oh thanks prince charming, can you help me up I need to get back to George - I can’t be seen out here” she asks, eyes pleading. 

“I didn’t mean- yeah-no-sure, of course here” 

“Thanks Lando” Y/N breathes out shakily as she takes his outstretched hand. 

This is utterly embarrassing 

“I'm sorry this is how we’re meeting” Y/N remarks as he bends down to grab the items she had dropped onto the floor.

“I’m just glad I was the one to find you, what happened?”

“I think I overheated, I was wearing my hoodie- I know ‘silly’ but I just wanted to be as incognito as possible. It's frustrating”. 

Lando gives her a sympathetic look as she answers him - not daring to look anywhere but the floor. “Hey I understand, but that could have been dangerous like you nearly passed out over there love '' Lando says as they make it closer to the Mercedes hospitality. Noticing the lack of response, he finds her still staring at  her feet. He sighs and gently moves to face her, tilting her head up, hand cupping her chin softly. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was lecturing you or anything, but it was scary to find you like that - I’m just worried” Y/N gulps staring back into his eyes as she nods at his words. “No I’m sorry, I was stupid - you don’t need to worry but thank you really Lando” Y/N mustered up the courage to speak, feeling so small under his gaze, his hand still cupping her jaw. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Norris?” George growls pulling Y/N behind him in a split second, not liking the image in front of him of the fellow driver’s hands on his younger sister. 

“Hey I was just helping her mate '' Lando tries to defend himself. 

“Didn’t fucking look like it” George snaps back at him. Y/N stumbles back at the sharpness of his voice, pulling her arm out of his grip. “George calm down please, he's only helping me for god's sake, I nearly passed out- he found me!” she retaliated back at him pleading for him to listen and understand. 

“I don’t care Y/N, it didn’t look like that when I saw the two of you -  he's done his ‘job’ he can leave now” George refuted arms crossed in front of himself, still glaring down at Lando who appeared as shocked as Y/N at this outburst. 

Defensively putting his hands up, Lando sighed and turned to walk away - giving Y/N one last apologetic look which she shared mirrored before turning his back and leaving. 

“What the hell was that Y/N? George demands as Y/N’s gaze drops back to the floor. 

“I could ask you the same thing” He only huffs in response before she starts again. “He really was helping me - I collapsed by the bathroom’s, he found me and walked me back - you should thank him for saving your sister, not shout at him!” her voice raising, fed up with his childish behaviour. 

“He had his hands on you, I don't want to see him near you again” 

Y/N turns on her heel and charges past him into the hospitality, refusing to keep up such conversation with George, taking deep breaths to compose herself as she pulls out her phone with shaky hands.

Way to ruin a moment bro

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading <3

taglist: @bicchaan @lauralarsen @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @ssararuffoni @cherry-piee @eviethetheatrefreak @2pagenumb

[mammonsrockstargf]

Hello! I’ve seen a few posts from your blog and I really like your writing style! If possible may I request the obey me brothers with two different MC’s? They met during summer camp and couldn’t stand the other kids so they just stuck to themselves until it was over now 10 years later they’re reunited…in anime hell. Thank you :D!!!

hii, lovely, thank youuu

sorry this took so long, school has been killinggg me lately <3

Okay, so the way I imagine this would go…

MC is Lilith’s descendant, right? But with how bloodlines work etc. etc. and Lilith has been dead for a while, so wouldn’t there be a lot of descendants?

You meet at summer camp. Maybe either of you never really felt like you fit in, there was always something odd about you. When you meet, it’s an instant connection. As though something bigger is tying you together. When summer camp is over, you each go on your own way. Unfortunately, you live so far away from each other, that you’re unable to keep contact.

Fast forward to Lucifer having to find a human exchange student. Maybe the wind blows to papers towards him and he finds himself unable to choose? I like the idea that Lillith looked at her brothers and was like “These boys need serious help, one human is not enough”.

Or maybe when one of you is teleported to the Devildom, the bond the two of you created at summer camp activates and causes you both to be teleported?

Regardless, you’re both here now. Standing on front of a very perplexed Lucifer, Satan who’s practically dying of laughter and Asmo who’s over the moon. (“Two playthings? How marvelous!”)

Lucifer's immediate reaction is one of you gotta go. There’s no way in hell that he’s putting up with two humans. The only reason he begrudgingly lets you both stay is because Diavolo lets out a hearty laugh and says “Well, I suppose it’s fate! You’ll both be staying.”

He can’t exactly say no to that know can he? So he makes some arrangements and gets another bed set up in the guest room. Having you in the same room makes it easier for him to keep control, so you’ll have to put up with that.

I also think he’d assign Mammon to one of you like in the OG and then Beel to the other. (“There’s no way the moron can take care of two humans on his own.”)

Once Mr. GreedyMcGreedyface is over the initial annoyance, he’s happy. Mammon, as per usual, is under the belief “the more the merrier”. He's very protective of his two lil humans and will buy you matching clothes and shit. He thinks it so funny, seeing you accidentally wear the same shirt on the same day.

Leviathan is flustered. Two humans are just too much for him. Don’t blame the guy. You'd probably have to get to know him one-on-one because there's no way he can handle being in proximity of the two of you alone for a while. (He eventually gets used to it, though and finds all sorts of multiplayer games you can play.)

Satan thinks it’s funny as fuck. Generally, he thinks anything that doesn’t go Lucifer's way is funny as fuck. Besides from that, I don't think he'd be all that different. He's too wrapped up in his rebellious phase to care.

Asmodeus as stated earlier thinks this is very exciting. I have the feeling he’d observe from afar at first, trying to feel out the vibes of everyone. He’d probably also try to set you two up. “You met at summer camp? What a meet-cute!” He'd also try to convince y'all to have a threesome. Zero chill on this guy.

Beelzebub doesn’t really care. He'd find it hard to tell you apart, to be honest. Which one is which? Do not ask Beel, he does not know. Once he gets to know you, though, I think he'd be the most observant of your differences. He'd know which one of you prefers spicy food, which one has a sweet tooth, your favourite colours, and your favourite kind of movies. He'd be so attentive to detail.

One of you has a tiny scar above your right eyebrow, and the other gets a small dimple on the left cheek whenever you smile. It's not something that he'll often vocalize, but sometimes he'll surprise you by mentioning it out of nowhere and you'll be like "What the fuck, Beel, how do you remember that?" and he'll just shrug and send you a sheepish smile.

Belphegor is fucking furious. What do you mean there’s not one but two humans in my house? No thanks. He would probably torment your dreams or something. He'll be able to tell you apart instantly, but instead of going the Beel route, he'll go out of his way to act like he can't tell you apart. "Oh, all humans are the same," yeah, suck it, loser-boy, you know exactly who's who, you just won't admit it.

Generally, I think being two MCs would be significantly better for one's overall mental health? Like you're stuck in "anime hell" (hihi) with a bunch of demons, two angels and a weird wizard guy who hardly even remembers what it's like being a human. You're definitely making it out in bigger pieces than the rest of us are.

a/n: thank you for reading! find my other stuff here. <3

[polyamorouscultureis]

Don't know if this is for advice but I need to confess this to SOMEONE outside the 4 of us. For many reasons, no one outside the 4 people mentioned here know anything about this

I'm a happily married man with a wonderful wife of 10 years. She's my best friend, my lover, and every bit the partner I need.

We're both well aware of our poly natures and have even tried (unsuccessfully) to open up to a third. It wasn't the right person or fit but we at least tried. Outside of that we've both had some FwB and it's never had any negative impact on our relationship.

But now I actually fell in love.

I fell in love with a streamer and what started as parasocial became just plain social to becoming very intimate and real. The kicker, this streamer girl is also happily married to her own man (4 years now) and they are also open to poly.

After a few weeks of this buildup, we had our first "date" over Discord video and all partners involved were nothing but supportive. It's long distance but the opportunity to visit each other is very real. The opportunity for sex is very real and very much discussed. The possibility of group sex in many configurations is on the table.

And through all this, we've firmly established our commitments and love to our spouses first and foremost, while still talking every day and very much falling in love with each other more and more.

I know all the important parts of navigating a poly relationship, and with how open all communication has been across all parties involved, I'd say we're doing okay.

I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed with how much I feel the euphoria of new love. Falling in love wasn't something I ever expected to happen to me again. I honesty didn't think I was capable of it. This wasn't me choosing someone, I had not say in the matter. My heart just said "this one" and took the rest of me along for the ride.

I don't know if what I need is advice but this is such an "out there" situation for me. Outside of the 4 of us, there's no one to talk to about what's going on. Partially because none of our close friends/family are poly and wouldn't really understand the dynamics, especially when they've gone through problems of cheating. And we also can't let it get out that a streamer fell in love with a viewer, for reasons I hope are obvious.

So this is my anonymous confession. Any whatever words you have for me, I'll take them.

This is so exciting! I'm so happy you're getting this opportunity with so much support from your respective partners behind you! It absolutely makes sense to be overwhelmed and probably pretty nervous about meeting in person for the first time, but just enjoy the moment as much as you can. Falling in love, especially for the second time, is intimidating, and comes with complicated feelings, but it's also so much fun. I hope things go well for you all and that you'll keep me updated on how things go! We all struggle a bit with lack of community to share these things with I think, so I adore being the void to shout into. <3

[yandereunsolved]

All right babes. It's my turn to come in

How would the yandere chain feel about a reader speaking a lot of hylian. But they mix it up. Like when you speak a lot of languages and sometimes you mix them up. Like putting english words into Spanish on accident?

That but with hylian.

They'd be more threatened than anything. The fact that reader is able to speak to many different species across Hyrule is worrying. You could be plotting against them or asking for help from a passerby, and they wouldn't understand you. That's why they don't trust you to translate for them. They would rather starve, be harmed, or die than allow you to escape them. That's how precious you are to them.

They get jealous when you converse with other races. It stems from their insecurity and possessiveness. They have banned Wild from leading them to his Hyrule. You are much too friendly with the Zora. Sidon is much too nice to you! He likes to hold your hand, hug you, and swim with you. It's unacceptable. The only reason Sidon wasn't killed by one of the Links is because Wild defended him. Wild never defends anyone The Chain wants to kill because he's so hungry for your attention. So they let him live, for now.

In just everyday situations, they find it a lot more adorable. They'll just give you this starry-eyed look and nod along. You could have been ranting in Zora the entire time, and none of them will correct you. It's like the unspoken rule that if someone falls asleep on you, then you shouldn't move. If you slip into another language, they just go along with it. When you realize you apologize but they insist there's no need for that. As long as you aren't hiding secrets while speaking in a different tongue, they don't quite care what language you speak in.

They'll fight for your attention under the guise of wanting to learn to speak a new dialect. Some of them know bits and pieces of the languages of the different races, and others know only Hylian. So it's most definitely something they bicker over. You have to create a schedule so they can each take a turn learning something about one of those languages.

They all just find it so fascinating. They love it. It's just one of your unique quirks. It's something that makes you, you. And they love all of you, every part—no matter how big or small.

ღ Moony, ignore that this took me so long to answer.

[naompspsps]

Uhhhhh, *Moonwalks into ask box* Shawty ily fr /p you and me one in the same, I literally two two very long chapters of a new fic today and having the Pomfiore boys was a cherry on top…..now I have a new idea for you….

What if the dark mirror picked up a child reader, like 8-10 y/o…how would the staff and students react? 🤭

Their reaction to 8 years old you.

Summary: You're an 8 year old kid who was always left out with your friend group, So while you watch them have fun, you just decide to sleep on a nearby bench.

Then you wake up in a strange.. Large room. Where are your parents? You don't know, and you don't remember for some reason. You remember the part where you felt left out, but you don't remember who were the people that pushed you out of the group.

You just appeared out of the dark mirror, leaving you to wander around the school with students looking at you. But then, they come to help you.

Ft. Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Mozus Trein and Ashton Vargas.

A/n: This was so fun to do lmao, now i wanna see Heartslabyul's reaction next. Anyways hi shawty, how r u.

Taglist bcs I wanna do it for fun: @frootloopscos

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

Ashton Vargas

He gives out the vibes of being a babysitter that you never plan to let go. Ever. Like, he made your whole life better just with one single idea that he pulled the whole student army for. That's a memory you never want to forget.

Vargas definitely made the students play with you, easily. With one command, They're already following. Obviously, He becomes the usual supportive audience with the other students, like it's some football team game.

Vargas was surprised into seeing a little kid, but who wouldn't be surprised? It took him only seconds to smile brightly and take the opportunity to babysit you. He looks like someone you could trust so, Here you are, with Vargas in the field.

You sit beside Vargas during class Comfortably, wow.. So many students on brooms! Your eyes sparkle. Oh.. How you wish to get to have fun like that. You look down on the grass.

Students look at you, Like they've heard of the rumours about you appearing out of nowhere without any memories of who were the people you knew back there. You play with your hands, bored.

You can't really have fun. It's like, forbidden for you. Maybe, it isn't.. As Vargas looks at you. "Heyy, Champ, What's wrong?" He kneels down beside you, a hand on your shoulder.

You look at the students on the broom, then back to your hands. "I'm just.. Bored." You whisper out.

Vargas thinks for a moment, then looking down at you, noticing the way you looked at the students and embarrassedly looking away. "Hmm.. Say, You wanna play?" You quickly look at him. Did you just hear that right? Play? You nod eagerly yet, excitedly.

He laughs out loud, "Alright! Students! We have a playmate!" Vargas cracks his knuckles on his hand, before lifting you up in the air and yelling. "GET THEM!!"

One of the students quickly fly down to you, grabbing you in a protective hold infront of him, just so that you won't fall. You look down. "Woooah!" You hold onto the broom. "Fun?" The student asks, You look up at them with a bright smile plastered on your face. "Mhm! Mhm!"

You can hear Vargas shouting from down there, cheering you on. "Here, throw this in that hoop." The student hands you a ball. You look at the hoop. "But it's too far!"

"It doesn't matter, go ahead and try." You use all your kiddie strength to throw the ball. To your surprise, It actually hit. You could hear Vargas and the rest of the students shouting and cheering. So did the student behind you also laugh and praise you.

"GOOD JOB CHAMP!!!" Vargas jumps and raises his fist up in the air. The other students offer Vargas chest bumps. How could he refuse to those in such a worldwide champion?! "...Look away, Kid." The student behind you whispers, covering your eyes with his hand. "Huh?" You question.

Mozus Trein

Trein wants to treat you like you're his other grandchild, you're just so adorable that he wants to take you. So, He does! Even if he thinks you would bother the class, Well, You didn't. You were just playing with Lucius under the desk.

He would realize so quick that you might be sweating in there, so he just brings you out to sit on his chair while he teaches, Lucius on your lap and letting you pat and caress him.

You walk with Trein inside of the classroom, The whole class filling with 'aw' and 'so cute''s, But, Does it bother you? No, Does it bother Trein? No. Does it bother Lucius? Yes. Lucius meows loudly at the students, telling them to shut up.

You look up at Lucius, who was getting held by Trein. Trein looks at you, as you make grabby hands. "Carry??" He asks. Damn, He's too old for this. You shake your head. "No? What is it?-- Oh, Lucius? You want to hold Lucius?"

You nod. Trein walks up to his desk and places Lucius on the desk. You walk at the side of the desk, hiding from the students so you aren't much of a bother in their class. Lucius jumps off the desk and lands on the ground, walking closer to you.

You watch Lucius get comfy on your lap. He wouldn't mind right?.. You gently rest your hand on his fur, and he doesn't resist. Then you slowly caress him, and he still doesn't meow or scratch you. It might take a while.. You mutter to yourself.

It's been, How long.. 40 minutes? You've been hugging and playing with Lucius for a while now. It's bit hot in your spot.. But you also don't want to disrupt Trein's class. So you just, continue running your fingers through Lucius' fur.

You don't even notice Trein looking at you. "[Name], Child, You're sweating. Go ahead and take a seat here." Trein pats on his chair. But isn't he..- Oh- He's teaching. Oh well. You stand up, carrying Lucius in your arms as you plop on the seat like a slime.

That causing everyone to let out giggles of how cute you were. You cover yourself embarrassedly, Looking down at the cat and pretending you're busy. But even if you don't understand, You still try to by listening to his lectures.

Yeah, Okay. You don't Understand a thing with the lesson. You sigh softly. The thoughts of your friends' blurred faces in your head. You remember the situation.. But you can't remember their faces and their names. It's like they're just. Unknown to you now.

You kick your feet on the Chair, playfully pointing at the ceiling and closing one eye, Just doing random things by boredom taking over. At this point, Everyone can't focus with you acting so adorable. It's making them forget what part of lesson they're in right now.

"And that's the-" Trein looks at everyone in the class, seeing that they all had their focus on you. He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Oh dear. My child. Could you tell them to focus in my lesson?" You look at the class, trying to look tough.

"Go back to studying!" You yell, which everyone starts giggling more. "Uhh.. It didn't work.." You look up, only to see Trein holding his laugh. "Goodness, You are such an adorable child." He mumbles before announcing the most heart dropping, air losing, oxygen needing in a bad way news ever.

"Also, Homeworks about today's lesson. It's due tomorrow."

Divus Crewel

He is skeptical of the issue at first, He doesn't even know what to do with you. But as time goes by, he starts to get comfortable with you, and ends up wanting to stay hanging out with you.

He brought you everywhere, Class, Lunch, Breaktime and even in his office. Everyone just isn't used to seeing the strict and cold teacher so warm around you.

You stare at Crewel. He stares back. While the rest of the teachers watch you both intesely stare, He takes a deep breath. "..Want a beer?" Crewel asks. "THEY'RE 8." Crowley shouts. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO."

"Oh dear.." Trein sighs. You walk closer to Crewel, tugging on his coat and giving him your dog plushie. Crewel just looks at you blankly. "I'm keeping the kid." He picks you up with ease and walks out of Crowley's office. "So.. We won the argument?" Crowley turns to Trein, who just nods. "We did."

You stayed with Crewel the entire day, not a single moment of you staying away from Crewel. In class, You just sit on a chair, taking a nap. Hugging the plushie that was in your arms. The students couldn't focus, nor could he. Not to mention, one of Crewel's dogs were on the desk, allowing you to use them as a pillow.

A few minutes later, You slowly open your eyes and yawn. You had a good nap.. You look at Everyone, who looked dead serious of getting a good grade. You get off your seat and rush towards Crewel. "Nice dream?" He asks, picking you up again. You look down.

You see the cauldron filled with magic. "Woah.." You gasp, seeing the liquid turn to a different color. "Cool?"

"Yeah!"

With your cuteness, it makes most of the students clench on their chest with tears in their eyes. How could you be so adorable?!

"Wanna mix, pup?" Crewel gives you the big stirring stick, and you take it, slowly stirring. The liquid is a bit thick.. So you struggle to stir it. But who says that's something you can't handle? You see the liquid turn purple. "Oooh.." You lean in closer.

"Is it interesting to see? Well watch this." Crewel puts a drop of another chemical, making it explode glitters. "WOOOAH!!" You yell. Crewel sighs. "Don't adopt the kid.. Don't adopt the kid.." He mumbles to himself.

Staying with him during his lunchbreak wasn't that bad at all, He just brought you in the courtyard to go to the flowers, And while you do that, you pick a red rose, run to Crewel and hand him the flower with your cheeky little grin.

Crewel has officially lost it. In a good way, He feels like his heart's been shot millions of times.

Dire Crowley

Yall heard of the theories that Crowley might be Malleus' dad? Imagine that /j Nah, He'd have absolutely no idea what to do. But he just makes you stay in his office, Bring you to special lessons with his own hat on you instead.

Students may think him without a hat is weird because they've never seen him without it (cough cough book4 crowley cough), but looking at you makes them forget everything.

Coming out of the dark mirror was.. Confusing for Crowley, He had to blankly have a staring contest with the dark mirror. But he feels like he needs to find out why you don't remember your parents but you remember what happened back there.

Not even that, You weren't even crying at the fact that you literally do not know where you are or who were the people around you. You were just.. Nonchalant. Maybe still sleepy, but nonchalant. Crowley made you stay with him until he figures out what to do with you.

Should he adopt you? He doesn't want to send you to an orphanage, He thinks you're too special to be there.

Watching over you isn't that hard. All you did was sleep on him while he wrote his paperworks, play around and not bother him. Atleast you didn't give him a hard time.. But because of that, After he was done with his paperworks he asks you if you wanted to play with him.

How could you say no to that? You both ran around the office, putting on hats and random stuff. It was fun, you had to admit.

So, Now you're with Crowley on the rooftop, right under a classroom. "Okay, so what I want you to do is hold on to me and we'll be alright." Crowley whispers to you. You nod, holding onto him tightly.

Crowley jumps in the classroom from above, landing perfectly. Oh! You're still wearing his hat.. And his coat! "SPECIAL LESSONS!" He yells. Everyone looks at him weirdly. "Headmage.. Why do you look like th- OH MY GOODNESS!" A student points at you.

"AWWWW" Is all you hear in the classroom. "Special lessons!" You shout excitedly. You don't know what special lessons are, but just follow Crowley's lead. Cro- Crowley??

He's on the floor.. "THAT IS THE CUTEST KID I'VE EVER SEEN." Crowley sobs. You're just too cute that you even had the headmage tear up.

"But- Special lessons.." You mumble. He clears his throat and quickly gets up. "Ahem, Right. Right, Thank you, Little Assistant." Crowley takes his hat off your head and gives you little pat before putting the hat back on you again.

Author's End Note: I'm putting Sam in the next part along with Heartslabyul, I can't 🗿🗿

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

the one chapter in this whole fic where bentley makes a rational decision

part thirty-nine

❝ UNLOVABLE ❞

TUESDAY — SEPTEMBER 8 — 11:07 AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP SO DISORIENTED AND FUZZY AND CONFUSED THAT HE JUST STARTED CRYING.

There were bright white lights in his face, and he wasn’t in his bed anymore, he was somewhere else. There were people moving around him, but he didn’t pay attention long enough to decide who, only long enough to decide he was terrified and wanted Bruce. What time was it? No idea. What day was it? No idea. Was he at the hospital? Was something really wrong with him?

“Whoa, hey… hey there, chum. You’re okay,” 

Bentley relished in the familiar voice, peeling his heavy, kind of sticky, newly-wet eyes open to glance around the room. It took a solid minute for his brain to catch up to his vision, but when it did, he realized he was in the cave, and Bruce was sitting right next to the bed he was laying in.

He tried to bring his hands up to hide his crying eyes, but paused mid-movement when he realized he was attached to a drip.The movement also seemed to trigger a wave of soreness that washed through his whole body.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. Just relax. You’re here, with me, in the cave. Everything’s okay,” Bruce spoke in his typical level, gentle tone, one of his hands landing on Bentley’s forehead like it always seemed to. Though, for some reason, he looked… really tired. Worn down. 

Bentley breathed in and out shakily, gathering his bearings, trying to stop crying for no reason for the five millionth time in his short life. (Seriously, he had to be setting a record at this point.) Instead, he relaxed back down onto the bed and let Bruce card his fingers through his hair.

“Where’s… Nico?” Was the first thing he managed to whisper.

Bruce got a strange look on his face, before he replied: “Bentley… you’ve been down here for five days. Nico and Asten went home. It’s Tuesday.”

Bentley blinked a few times. It was Tuesday? He had been… he had been completely out of it for five whole days?

He looked around the empty room warily. “What? What happened?” 

Bruce sighed softly, brushing his opposite hand through his own hair. “Someones been fiddling with your DNA, and it made you pretty sick.”

Oh. Right. Superpowers. Bentley looked down at his own feet under the cottony blanket, exhaling subtly. 

“Bentley,”

He looked back up at Bruce, who had a little smile on his face. 

“I will never, ever, ever get rid of you,” He reassured, sighing lightly. “I promise.”

Bentley looked down at his hands, exhaling shakily before he muttered: “My… my father told me… he never loved me. And, uh, that he never would.”

Bruce stayed silent for a moment.

Bentley breathed in and out. It was now or never, wasn’t it? The hard questions had to be asked so things could be fixed, right? “Will you tell me the truth?”

“Of course, bud. Anything,”

Bentley twiddled his fingers, purposefully keeping his eyes away from Bruce when he whispered: “Why is it so hard for people to love me?”

Bruce’s blue eyes grew grim, and he scooted his chair closer to the bed with a squeak. “Bentley Whittaker, you are not hard to love. In fact, you’re almost impossible not to love.”

Bentley looked away, breathing in to force away the urge to cry. “Then why doesn’t he love me?”

Bruce sighed lightly. “That’s his own choice, his own problem. It has nothing to do with you. You are an incredible, brave, amazing kid, Bentley, and I loved you the very first day Dick brought you to me.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Hey,” Bruce continued, his hand moving through Bentley’s hair again, and the child finally looked over at him with slightly glassy eyes. “You could set the whole world on fire and I’d still tell everybody you’re mine.”

Bentley looked down at his feet, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to burn. Did that mean that maybe Bruce wouldn’t hate him for all the things he did? And he wouldn’t get rid of him? And he could stay and keep living with them even though he was an emotional, irrational trainwreck of a child?

Bentley sniffled. “I’m…” Cold? Lonely? Tired of lying? “Can you hold me?”

In one smooth movement, minding the IV tubes, Bentley was with Bruce in the chair.

A few moments of silence passed.

“I wish you were my father,”

A few beats came and went, and Bruce kissed Bentley’s hair.

“I am,”

Oh, God — there it was. The one statement that utterly broke Bentley. That changed something inside of him just like his real father’s statement had. Something cracked. Something moved. 

And so Bentley did what Bentley had been so determined not to do for literal weeks.

“You promise you won’t hate me?” He muttered into Bruce’s shirt, making himself small there, tucking his knees up. 

“I could never hate you, Bentley,”

Bentley breathed in and out. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe it really was the right time. Maybe he really should do it — just get it over with. Nico would’ve done it. It was good. It would make everything better, right? Right?

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Is what he started out with, but then backtracked, because that was not a great place to start. “I mean, no, I was. I was. But, the… uh… the night you guys thought I went missing I actually… uh… I ran away.”

Bruce said nothing, but didn’t make a disapproving sound or expression, either. So Bentley continued.

“I guess… uh… I guess it really started back when… right before school. Or right after, I can’t remember. Something was wrong with Damian. And I tried to talk to him but he got mad…” Bentley cleared his throat. “He told me I wasn’t worthy enough to be a Wayne. That I didn’t belong here and you only had me because you felt bad for me.”

At that, Bruce let out a little sigh.

“I think he was kind of sad, I dunno… I know he didn’t really want to hurt me. I think. But he did anyways,” Bentley shook his head. “And I started looking at everybody, at Dick and Jason and Tim and Damian and Cass and Steph and Duke and… Y’know. They’re all superheroes. Really cool superheroes. And a bunch of them were Robin, and I obviously can’t be Robin, but… I… I had to do something, you know? I wanted to be good enough. So… uh… Asten and Nico and I decided that… uh… we were going to go after the Secret Keeper. Because I could prove that I belonged here if I caught a villain like you guys do.”

“So you left, in pursuit of her?” Bruce inquired gently.

Bentley nodded. “Yeah. Asten found some connections between the missing people and the Areopagus and Dr. Keene, my teacher, and found this cabin in the woods that he owned that a bunch of the victims had stayed in, so we went to check it out. Which… sounds pretty random and dumb, now, I guess…” 

Silence passed.

“Uh… he found all that out by finding all the locations of where the people went missing and… uh… well. We kinda… stole Dr. Keene’s phone to get to the cabin schedules and stuff…” Bentley fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. “I know it was bad… but we wanted to help. So, uh, we met up at Nico’s house and started going to the cabin.”

Bentley exhaled heavily. Telling the truth felt strangely… good.

“We walked for a long time, and stopped by Asten’s house in Crime Alley for him to get something, and that was when Nico told me he was adopted and when I realized he had superpowers. Real ones — he has superspeed. And, well, that didn’t go over so well. He was… is really struggling with it. But, uh, anyways, Asten came back and then the Secret Keeper knocked me out and showed me all kinds of futures. Ones where I die, where I work with my father, where I was Robin… and she told me my choice to go to the cabin would lock me in and out of some. So I chose to keep going.”

Bruce still didn’t respond, keeping the door open for Bentley to continue.

“We broke into the cabin. And, uh, it looked pretty normal… at first. And then we found a trapdoor that led to the basement. Asten told me it was called a morgue,” Bentley shivered at the thought. “We opened up one of the fridges and… it was scary. I had an anxiety attack. Nico threw up in the floor. But Asten was fine, I think, and there was this computer down there that had tons of videos on it. Of our teacher, Dr. Keene, working in these labs, turning normal people into metahumans. The first one he did was his own daughter, Charlie Reins… who became The Secret Keeper. And he mind controls them all.”

Bruce exhaled.

“A bunch of the missing kids were in those videos, like Titus Lancaster and Davis Henderson. And we learned that… that… Dr. Keene was… is working for… my father. Trying to destroy you. That’s why the Secret Keeper has been attacking us. Because of me…” Bentley inhaled sharply. “Anyways, we were down there and we heard someone coming, so… we… hid in some of the fridges. Which wasn’t fun. I don’t remember much from then because I was freaking out. We ran out of the cabin and everyone was scared and Asten got his foot stuck in a bear trap and we were trying to help him and then there was a grenade and we all got knocked out.”

Bentley exhaled, sort of shaky, cringing at himself. Word vomiting wasn’t usually something people liked, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind.

“And I woke up in a warehouse, but I wasn’t actually there because it was just the Secret Keeper. I saw Jason die, and it… was really scary. I… I saw you. And I begged you to bring me home but it wasn’t really you…” Bentley fought back another round of stinging in his eyes and forced himself to get it together. “Then I woke up. Davis Henderson, the waiter that got knocked out at that bar because of me, he was there and he got me out of the machine before they could do mind control, he said.”

Bruce nodded slightly. “I remember hearing about Davis.”

“Yeah. He has to wear these super huge metal gloves now, because he kills anything he touches. His mind control was broken. So he got me out, and then we went to get Nico and Asten. And I got shot. Which was scary. And… he told us about Titus Lancaster, who can teleport, and he was going to have surgery to get new mind control so he didn’t have it then. And Davis told us to find him and that he could teleport us out,” He explained. “So we ran for a while. Lots of people were killed. Davis killed a lot of bad guys that were shooting at us, and… Nico did, too, but he didn’t mean to. He has air powers now that can make you choke.”

Bruce hummed.

“But when we were running out the Secret Keeper showed up. So Davis told us to run and he fought her. I’m not sure what happened but I hope he’s okay. He saved me…” Bentley cleared his throat. “But we found Titus, who was really scared, and he teleported us to the manor. And Asten told us not to tell anyone so I… didn’t. And you know everything that’s happened since I got home. Oh — except… I went to see my father to try and convince him to stop, but he said no. And that if I told anybody anything I knew he’d use a plan b that would destroy all of Gotham. But I don’t know what it is. Oh, and Asten has fire powers. And… I guess that’s everything you didn’t know.”

Bentley sighed and looked up at Bruce, who looked near-emotionless, processing all of the information he’d just had dumped in his lap.

“I… I know those things were bad, and that I should’ve told you, and that I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, but please, please, please don’t get rid of me. I’ll be better — I won’t do anything bad again. Please don’t-“

“Bentley,”

The Bentley in question was starting to cry again. “Please don’t get rid of me, Bruce. I promise I’ll be better. I promise. You can get me in trouble and yell at me and lock me up or hit me like my dad used to, but please just don’t get rid of me.” 

“Bentley. Look at me please,”

Begrudgingly, Bentley looked up, his brown, watery eyes meeting Bruce’s icy blue ones. 

“Please don’t get rid of me. I love you,”

Bruce breathed in and out. “Here’s what I have to say, okay? You’re right. Some of those things you did were risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, and you were impressively, almost stupidly brave to do them. All because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”

Bentley looked down, wiping at his furiously leaking eyes with his non-dripped hand. 

“Do you want to know what one of the most defining traits of a Wayne is?” Bruce questioned, glancing down at Bentley with a smile that threw the child for a loop. “Being impressively and stupidly brave, and doing things that are risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, all because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”

Bentley said nothing.

“Every single person in this family, Bentley, has done something like this. Even me. Some of us more than once. And while I can’t say I’m thrilled about what you did or what you went through… You survived, you told me the truth, and you were trying to do the right thing. And, I’d have to say, all things considered, I’m pretty proud of that,” Bruce stated with a smile. “I am proud of you, Bentley. And I love you. So. Much. You’re pretty much stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

Bentley had never felt more relieved in his entire short life. Bruce loved him, and he wasn’t going to get rid of him, and he wasn’t mad at him… what kind of fever dream was this? How was it going just like Bentley hoped it would?

“Hey, bud, I want to ask you something. And I want you to be totally, completely honest, okay? Your answer needs to be yours and only yours,”

Bentley nodded slightly, still wiping at his eyes. 

Bruce breathed in deep, running a hand over the child’s head with this fond gleam in his eyes that before now, Bentley could have only dreamed of. 

“You’ve been living here for almost a year. Fostering for over half of it,” Bruce exhaled. “I think this is as good of a time as any to ask… how do you feel about being adopted, like Dick, Jason, and Tim?”

Bentley freaking lost his mind. 

(In the arms of his dad?)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (5/?)

Word Count: 2,526 Words

Rating: Mature (SMUT)

Chapter 5

"I want your love, and I want your revenge

You and me could write a bad romance

I want your love and all your lover's revenge

You and me could write a bad romance"

- Lady Gaga

_________________________________________________

“Better to come here now then.” 

Lucifer was right. Alastor had already put things off longer than was prudent for them and it might be best that tonight was not a night that they spent at the hotel. 

Maybe this was a mistake... He thought.

Not that Lucifer hadn’t proven that he was fully capable of handling Alastor; but would he be prepared for Alastor at his absolute worst?

Alastor had not been entirely honest with Lucifer; refraining from offering up the fact that he had chosen avoidance - had forcibly made himself celibate - for the past 7 years. This, of course, was creating a large problem to him now. He had hoped to pay the consequence of denying his body a natural need it required under...different circumstances; perhaps at some time when the stakes weren't set quite so high with very few options to consider.  

He had withheld this information knowing that Lucifer would inevitably want to know the reason why; and Alastor – quite simply – had no interest in discussing it.

Alastor was feeling uncomfortable. 

Two days had passed since his visit to Lucifer’s and he was very nearly fully into his rut now. He had stubbornly pushed off contacting the angel for as long as was possible but it was getting harder and harder to maintain his composure. 

During the daytime, he threw himself into tasks throughout the hotel; performing maintenance and small renovations where he could; helping Charlie in formulating a strong argument for redemption by researching terminology and definitions that would best accommodate her proposals; exchanging preliminary ideas with Vaggie on possible preparations for fortifying the hotel should the need require it; helping the other residents with small and meaningless chores or errands. He no longer slept and he spent the nights drinking and making efforts in dulling the edge to his urges.

Despite the distraction and despite him trying to deal with the arousals himself...he wasn't accomplishing much in assuaging his symptoms. Alastor's body was betraying him and he did not care for it. He felt overheated; a cold sweat constantly at his back. He had to take measures in concealing spontaneous erections and felt like every nerve on his body was a live wire just ready to ignite. His antlers were even weighing heavier on his head and he knew he couldn't ignore the implications of this much longer. 

When he got to Lucifer's, he felt a frazzled mess. Lucifer took one look at him and knew - despite all of the arrogant antics, despite all of the careful planning - Alastor was not handling his rut well. He was too...maniac and too on-edge. His ears too straight and twitchy, his eyes and smile too wide... 

"Have you eaten?" Lucifer asked him, inviting him inside. "You look like you could maybe use some food..." and maybe some sleep... 

"No, I have not...I -" He was trying to remember when he last ate...not today. "I suppose I should." 

"Shrimp and grits sound okay?" Lucifer asked him, walking toward the kitchen. 

Alastor paused; tilting his head. 

"I asked Charlie, alright." Lucifer told him. "I explained to her that you and I had important matters to discuss regarding information from Carmilla's extermination meetings she conducts with the Overlords tonight and I asked her what you might like to eat. She said you liked Cajun, so Cajun I made." 

Alastor just stared at him; giving him a hard look.

“Won’t your daughter be wondering at the strangeness of our…nightly meeting?” He asked.

“Hardly.” Lucifer told him turning and continuing down the corridor. “She knows that you’re nocturnal and that I’m an insomniac. Honestly; she’s just thrilled that we don’t have any foreseeable plans in murdering each other.”  

“I’d rather you didn’t go out of your way to make special accommodations for me.”

"I have an interest in knowing people, Alastor. I'm sure you've seen that trait in Charlie, as well. Don't be so surprised and don’t be so skeptical." 

Flicking one ear; Alastor followed him to the kitchen.

"Also, you might hate the dinner. Who knows. I never said I was a good cook." 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Following their meal, Lucifer noted that Alastor still seemed...out of sorts. They had engaged in quiet conversation that was pleasant enough but the man just seemed too...nervous and distant. Whatever expectations Lucifer had with tonight; this wasn't it.

Maybe this isn't the best solution... 

With the food gone and dishes put away; there was nothing left for it... 

"I don't know about you, but I could use a shower." Lucifer said; standing up to stretch. "Care to join me?" 

"A shower sounds....nice, actually." 

The bathroom was unlike anything Alastor had seen; dead or alive. It was incredibly spacious and immaculately kept... 

The shower was a large walk-in with multiple waterflow heads. Lucifer unabashedly stripped himself naked; setting his clothes aside. Walking across the tiles; he flipped on the knobs of two of the heads before stepping underneath the streaming water of one. 

Alastor paused; watching him. He expected Lucifer to start in on some form of leud comments...make an attempt at some or dirty talk; or hungrily – curiously even - watch him as he undressed; but the angel was paying him absolutely no mind. 

Sighing; Alastor slipped out of his suit jacket. 

Fully naked, he stepped into the shower with Lucifer; going to the second shower head that was beside him. Alastor stood underneath the jet; feeling the heated water soothe the static nervous energy he had stored in his body. He waited for Lucifer to turn toward him; to approach; to look at him and begin touching him but...he never did. Lucifer stood under his own steaming jet of water, eyes closed and head tilted as he showered; almost seemingly having forgotten that Alastor was even there. Alastor tweaked an ear, then closing his eyes he turned his face into the spray of water; feeling it thrum against his antlers, cascading across his lowered ears and through his hair. 

Lucifer watched Alastor from the corner of his eye. He had noted a hint of some sort of cologne when Alastor stepped into the shower with him but now...now that Alastor was under the water the smell was pungent. It was a heavy but earthy odor; something akin to the smell of pine trees and rain or the soft tones of a woodfire smoke. Lucifer breathed the scent in deeply; his pupils gently dilated, his heart rate jumped, and his mouth began to water...all at once he was suddenly very much aroused and he immediately realized that he was smelling and breathing in the concentrated pheromones of Alastor's musk. Lucifer couldn't help but stare at him now, feeling a powerful urge now to approach the red deer demon; to feel and to touch...to give and to take.

He saw the water washing across Alastor’s upturned face; ringlets, splashes and streams of it curling and twisting all down across his body. He briefly noted that Alastor was covered in scars; a sharp flickering of red and then he saw that Alastor also possessed a rather soft-and-delicate-looking deer tail. Lucifer wondered at the amount of secrets Alastor must be willing to sacrifice to see these deals he had made done…

Lucifer’s erection was openly jutting upwards but…he held back. Watching Alastor closely; he somehow knew that he wasn't ready to be touched yet. 

What hell it must be…he thought…to be someone who cared so little for physical intimacy - to have it forced upon them by their own biological need. Lucifer couldn't fathom it but he saw the discomfort; the detachment that Alastor was experiencing from it. It reminded Lucifer of one of his episodes that he had sometimes when he-

Wait. 

Hold on. 

Lucifer shook his head; blinking water from his eyes as he concentrated, looking much more closely at Alastor now.

Was Alastor...experiencing some episode of post-traumatic distress?

Lucifer focused; assessing all of the signs and he saw it, realizing…

“I’d rather not discuss it…”

Suddenly; all of it made sense.

Lucifer had wondered how Alastor – a sinner Cervidae demon that had been in Hell for as long as he had – had not yet come to terms with the matter of his occurring and re-occurring mating cycles. 

Something had to have happened…

Fuck…

Lucifer rubbed his face; of course, this had to be even more complicated.

He thought briefly again about what both Lilith and Alastor had said…about how Alastor had actually killed demons before when he –

Then, Lucifer remembered what he himself had told Alastor:

“…it wasn’t for the intentions that they had thought…”

Alastor was still standing under the shower head next to his; eyes closed, face tilted up, smile fixed to his face. His body was rigid; tension never leaving his body.

Lucifer sighed.

“Hey, Al…”

Alastor’s eyes opened; he turned his head, ears lifting, looking at Lucifer now – somehow expressionless despite the ever-present grin. 

“Come here; I-I’d like you to touch me.”

Alastor’s ears straightened; processing for a moment…

Then, reaching out – Alastor turned the knob to his shower head; turning off the spray of water. He went to Lucifer; stepping into the falling water and looking down at the angel. Reaching out again; he found the knob – turning it. Heat flared across Lucifer’s skin; turning his pale skin a rosy pink.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Lucifer hissed.

Alastor huffed; a small smirk touching his face. Turning, he put his back to the streaming jet of hot water; facing Lucifer. Steam began to rapidly fill the shower; heat radiating around them.

Alastor waited; still anticipating Lucifer to reach out – touch him; grab him; grip him; smother him…

Lucifer lifted his hands; palms open and held to the side.

“Per our agreement…” He said, softly.

Alastor’s eyes widened; understanding.

“I won’t touch you.” Lucifer told him. “Not until you want me to.”

Alastor’s breathing changed; the base to his antlers were becoming more full, more points erupting and curling upward.

“Don’t hold back.” Lucifer told him.

Layers of tension left Alastor as he moved himself closer to Lucifer; his upper body leaning down and over the angel.

He took Lucifer’s face between clawed hands; tilting his head and pressing his mouth to his. Alastor kissed him and Lucifer kept his hands raised and away. Alastor pressed himself closer; completely blocking the spray of water coming from the shower head and Lucifer was grateful for the added heat that was filling the room in a foggy humid blanket.

Still kissing him; Alastor’s hands left the angel’s face and began exploring his body. Clawed fingers traced stimulating patterns all along Lucifer’s wet neck, chest, shoulders and stomach. Lucifer shuddered; groaning softly into Alastor’s mouth. Unlike Alastor; Lucifer craved to touch and craved being touched…now finding himself coming out of a rather lengthy dry spell – maybe not years worth, but still – his body was terribly touch deprived and every contact Alastor made with him was bracing to him. Keeping his hands away – he clenched his fists at the urge to reach out and touch Alastor.

Alastor pulled his head back; breaking the kiss. His fingers curled around Lucifer’s chin; his eyes wide and dilating.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.” He breathed.

Unclenching his fists; Lucifer did as he was instructed. Alastor waited for him to rest his hands on either side; pausing as if assessing himself - deciding whether he would find the contact acceptable.

Nodding; he leant back in – pressing his lips back again to Lucifer’s – his own clawed hands finding and gripping the smaller man’s waist; palms resting on each hip.

Lucifer let his hands rest – still - at Alastor’s shoulders; neither moving them to touch and explore Alastor like he ached to do nor to grip and pull him closer. Alastor gave a soft growl and Lucifer took it as an approving sound as the demon coaxed their mouths open; sliding his tongue between parted lips – he twisted and flicked it with and against Lucifer’s forked one.

More and more of the unease was leaving Alastor’s body…making room for a new kind of tension. Lucifer felt Alastor grip his hips tighter; his developing erection pressing into the King’s belly. Disengaging himself from Lucifer’s mouth; Alastor pressed his forehead to Lucifer’s; his breathing heavy.

“You may touch me now.” Alastor told him.

Slowly; Lucifer leaned in – touching his lips to Alastor’s collar bone and sliding his hands down across Alastor’s arms and his chest. Alastor groaned; sinking into the touch and Lucifer knew that he would no longer have to take such pangs to be so cautious. He nipped and licked at Alastor’s skin; his tongue tracing across the raised and jagged scars that crisscrossed his chest. Clawed fingers dragging soft red marks; everywhere they went.

Lifting a hand from a hip; Alastor found Lucifer’s length. He palmed and stroked the King; feeling the firming of muscle in his hand. Lucifer sucked in a breath; hands involuntarily gripping tightly at Alastor’s arms. Lucifer quickly released his sudden grip; but Alastor only chuckled lowly at the response he had elicited in him.

“Turn around, my King.” Alastor told him lowly.

Turning; Lucifer felt Alastor’s hands grip his shoulders – pulling him against him so that Lucifer could feel the sinner’s erection pressing sharply into his back. Alastor adjusted himself; then possessively wrapped an arm around Lucifer’s torso; holding him firmly to him as he leant himself over – reaching down to take the swollen and aching member into his grip again. He pressed himself tightly against the angel; his own fully erect penis sliding up and down Lucifer’s wet back as he moved his hips – pumping the King in his hand.

Lucifer bent himself back against Alastor; his hips quivering into jutting as he felt himself quickly approaching a climax. His clawed fingers dug into the wet and slick skin of Alastor’s forearm; wrapped tightly across his chest. Alastor’s face was pressed tightly into the side of Lucifer’s neck; growling and gasping as both their movements stimulated him into an ever-deepening arousal.

Alastor’s grip tightened and Lucifer knew he was lost. His hips jutted sharply; and he felt himself release into Alastor’s hand; cum slipping between fingers and washing away in the cascade of water around them. Alastor let him go; and Lucifer shakily stood – his back still to Alastor.

A soft flickering of the lights and a soft buzzing of something static made Lucifer turn. Alastor was standing behind him; his penis curved tightly upward, a hand covering his face – his eyes were wide, red and flaring crazily behind spread fingers. His smile maniac and stretched too wide. His ears were erratically twitching in sharp movements; the fur on them standing sharply on end. The lights began to strobe; going out briefly before flickering back in again. Shadows were creeping into corners; crawling across walls – slowly consuming the room. Alastor’s antlers where branching and stretching dramatically overhead; the points lengthening and twisting around themselves in a beautifully chilling way. Alastor’s musk pervaded the room; hanging heavy in the thickening steam that surrounded them.

“Somewhere else…” Alastor was saying; his widening eyes seeing nothing. “I’m…”

And the room went dark.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Did I lull you into a false sense of security....? Next Chapter, we're getting WILD!]

[i-eat-worlds]

A&F Platontic Omegaverse AU

This idea manifested after a rather late night for me, and refused to leave until I wrote it. I’d be open to writing more, so if you enjoyed it, please do share.

Content: A/B/O dynamics, non-graphic medical neglect, recent past violence, medical whump, made up omegaverse medical BS that I took way to seriously, minor injuries, medic caretaker(s), and graphic depictions of anaphylaxis and allergic reactions

Eric turned out of the Wendy’s parking lot, grabbing several fries and shoveling them into his mouth. Next to him, Joseph was slurping on a chocolate frosty. He flicked on the turn signal, pulling into the left lane, when a call came in.

“It’s for us. 5067 Prince Street, apartment 134. Female omega in unpartnered heat. Neighbor called it in, said she smells sick and scared,” Joseph read from the screen.

Eric turned in the direction of the call, flipping on the lights and sirens. The sea of other vehicles parted as he accelerated down the street, speeding towards the newer apartment blocks that rose several blocks over.

“Can you get a blocker ready for me?” He asked, taking another left onto Prince Street. Joseph hummed, peeling the back o of his and pressing it onto the back of his neck over his scent glands. “Sure.”

The Prince street apartments were a newer development, meant to house the ever growing population of college students who needed a place to live. Since it was early afternoon, there was plenty of space. They grabbed the stretcher, bags piled on top of it, and headed towards the building.

It was easy to tell that the apartment number they’d been given was the right one. They could smell it from several meters away in the hallway, thick and pungent, rancid enough to make you gag if you weren’t used to it.

Hand in a fist, Joseph knocked on the door. “OEMS! We got a call for an omega in heat?”

There was a beat of silence, and the scent grew more potent. Joseph’s stomach twisted. Still no response. Behind him, Eric held up the key that had been hidden under the mat. He waited for another beat. “We’re going to come in.”

The smell was nearly overpowering as they cracked the door open. Between the apartment’s size and its sparse furnishing, it did not take long for them to locate their patient.

She was in the bathroom, half dressed and curled up on the threadbare bath mat. One eye was puy and swollen, well on its way to becoming a black eye, while the other was brimming with tears. Her mouth was hanging open, hands shaking. When she saw both of them enter the room, she inched back, a scared yelp falling out of her lips.

Joseph knelt down in front of her. “I’m Joseph, and that’s my partner Eric. What’s your name?”

“Alex.” She cringed over in pain as a cramp rolled through her.

“How are you feeling right now, Alex?” Her breaths were fast and shallow.

“Cramps are really bad, feel hot, and I’m really tired. It’s like a heat but worse.” The tears had started to dry, but she was still obviously shaken.

“I…I have a care worker but he…he…he left,” she sobbed.” He left me. He was here to give me my dose of suppressants and I was in heat so he couldn’t because I guess they stopped working for some reason…” She trailed off, trying to hold off tears.

“You’re okay, breathe for me,” he comforted. Her pulse was rabbit quick, and her skin was sweaty and warm. Behind him, Eric cracked open an oxygen tank.

“He said he didn’t want to deal with it-” She prodded at her bruised eye. “I threatened to report it and he hit me. I don’t know what to do.” Another cramp cut her off.

“We’re going to take care of you, alright?” He smiled at her, concealing the flash of anger that flared inside of them. “Do you know which suppressants you take?”

Eric looped that mask around her head. “Metip…Mecip…I don’t know how to pronounce it?”

“Mecipromide?” That was one of the more potent suppressants, and older too. It had mostly been replaced by now.

She nodded. “I don’t know how much. He alway did it.”

“Alright. Breakthrough heats aren’t rare with that. Do you take any other medications?”

She shook her head, whimpering in pain again.

“I’m going to feel your glands now, tell me if it hurts.” He reached back around to her neck, fingers pressing into the warm and swollen glands.

“Ow.” She flinched away again.

“Now for your armpits, sorry if it tickles.” They were enlarged as well.

“Czerniaks and axillaries are inflamed,” he reported to Eric before turning his attention back to Alex. “When was your last heat?”

“Three, maybe four years ago? I was eighteen or nineteen.” Her voice was shaky, fear still rolling off her.

“Aright.” That was a pretty long time to be on Mecipromide for. “Is it just your eye that’s hurt, or did you get hit in other places?”

“Just my eye.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He put up two fingers.

“Two.”

“Good.” He shifted back. “Is your vision blurry? Any dark spots?” She shook her head. “Do you remember getting hit?”

A quiet “yeah.”

“Good. Any dizziness, nausea, or head ache?” Her breathing had slowed, and she seemed to be calming.

“We’re gonna get you on the stretcher and to the hospital now, alright?”

She nodded, leaning closer towards him. “Thank you.” Slowly, she pushed up to standing, using the counter to steady herself. The stretcher was outside the door, only a few steps, but she faltered, stumbling forward.

Joseph immediately reached an arm out, catching her before she could hit the ground. She yelped, and her eyes went wide as her body ung itself around him and latched on tight. Her legs became Jello, and he was the only thing holding her up.

It was textbook erstratory comfort seeking behavior. He’d seen it plenty of times, at least once or twice a week, while working for OEMS, but Alex seemed more surprised by it. She immediately tried to pull away, but her body didn’t let her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her head pushing into the crook of his neck.

The scent blockers prevented her from smelling what she was looking for, as did the fact that he was a beta. “It’s okay. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Her scent had changed, less bitter, more relaxed, but still worried. “I didn’t mean to, I promise.” Another cramp tore through her, and he had to support even more of her weight.

“You’re alright. I’ll help you over to the stretcher and we’ll see if you can let go then.” He kept his arms wrapped around her, mainly to keep her upright, but also because the touch was obviously soothing for her.

She groaned, nuzzling in closer as he helped her out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay. It’s normal.” He slowly let her down on the edge of the stretcher. “Do you think you can let go now?”

There was a tearful “no,” as she pressed into him.

“Alright.” He was quiet for a second. “I’m going to scoot you all the back to the crease, and then Eric’s gonna help you let go.”

“Thanks.” Unconsciously, she squeezed him tighter.

Joseph kept her supported as he moved her up the stretcher, one hand supporting her head and the other holding her back. She muttered something quietly into the crook of his neck. “What was that, Alex?”

“I don’t wanna let go.” Her voice was a little louder this time. “ ‘m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Gently, he let her head down. “There's a cuddle pillow for you in the ambulance. We just gotta get you there, alright?”

“Oh…okay.” She nodded a little.

“Eric’s gonna help you let go, alright?”

Behind him, Eric started to carefully uncouple her hands, peeling her fingers off her wrists. He set them down on the stretcher, and she whimpered trying to push closer. Joseph pulled away, finally breaking contact.

Alex shrunk in on herself, another cramp ripping through her. “It ‘urts.”

“We’ll get you to the hospital, just a little longer,” he said. She reached out, wrapping a hand around the bare skin just above where his glove ended. It was clear her touch needs weren’t being met. Hopefully, the hospital would be able to set her up with a better care worker.

They put the stretcher up and pushed her to the ambulance. The scent had repelled most people, and Joseph was glad they didn’t have an audience. He locked the stretcher in place, taking a seat on her left side.

“I’m gonna get a line in while Eric gets your vitals, then we’ll get you that pillow,” he said. Her hand was still locked around his wrist, and he gently removed it so he could use her hand.

Eric clipped the pulse ox to her finger and wrapped the cuff around her upper arm while Joseph slid a 22 into her hand. She laid there, tensing up as another cramp pumpled her. “Are you allergic to anything?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not that I know off.”

Eric rattled off her vitals, along with her weight and height, before turning around to dig out the pillow. She was warm, too warm, even for an omega in heat. Her breathing was still fast, along with her heart rate. Between that, the cramps, and the touch hunger, it seemed to be a pretty severe breakthrough estrus.

“Alex, I’m gonna give you some meds to help with your heat, alright?” He unzipped his medication bag as he spoke. “We’ll get on the road after this.”

She nodded, but was more distracted by the cuddle pillow Eric was laying beside her. Immediately, her arms and legs were wrapped around it, and exhaled as she nuzzled her face into it.

“I’m gonna get us up and moving,” Eric said as he peeled his gloves off and dropped them into the bin.

Joseph nodded, and the door closed behind him with a thunk. He quickly drew up the meds, a small dose of a mild suppressant and a synthetic hormone that would help relieve the cramps. “I’m gonna need your hand.”

She groaned, but pulled it off the pillow for him anyway. “Thank you.” He ushed the line and pushed the drugs.

Eric pulled them out of the parking lot, accelerating as he hit the main road. Alex wrapped her hand back around the pillow, curling up tighter. The pillow was helping. Her breathing and pulse had slowed, and her scent was much more relaxed. She still smelled sick, but signicantly less distressed. He made his report to the hospital, listing off the info they would need to know.

A couple minutes later, she started to scratch at her hand, picking at the Tegaderm. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but try to leave it alone. We’re only about five minutes away.”

She stopped messing with it, instead moving up higher and dragging her fingernails up and down her arm. “It itches.”

A pit opened up in his gut. This was going to be a thing now, wasn’t it? Just great. “Can I see?”

He took her arm in her hands, turning it over as he examined it. It was covered in hives. “Alex, you said you weren’t allergic to anything. Did your parents have any allergies?”

“I…uh…I don’t know. They both died when I was pretty young.” The fear had returned to her scent in full force, stinking up the back of the ambulance in the same way only it could.

“Okay. You having any diculty breathing?” Her tongue or face weren’t swollen, but he could hear each inhale and exhale.

She pulled the pillow closer. “A little.”

“I think you’re having a reaction to the meds I gave you,” he said as he drew up a syringe of epinephrine as he watched her. “I’m going to give you something to counteract it.”

Alex didn’t fight it as he took her hand in his so he could push the epi. She started to smell more frantic, her breathing speeding up. After updating the hospital and a brief chat with Eric, the sirens started to wail.

“It feels like there's something in my throat.” She said, eyes flickering around frantically. Her voice was pitched up, stress.

As he spoke, he set up his fluids. “It might take the epi a little bit to kick in. I’ve got you.”

Her expression grew more frantic, and her scent went sour, intensifying to an overpowering level. “It’s hard…It’s hard to breathe.”

“I know, I know.” He went ahead and started prepping an infusion, and upped the amount of oxygen she was receiving. “We’re nearly to the hospital. Is it getting any better?”

The epi should’ve started properly working by now, and they were only a few minutes away from the hospital. He didn’t want to stop and tube her now if he didn’t absolutely have to.

“It’s not getting worse.” She stammered, mouth hanging wide open.

“That’s good. You’re doing great.” The mass of hospital buildings was visible out of the back window. They were inches away from the ER.

She squeezed the pillow tighter, making a distressed keen. Her stats weren’t dropping and her blood pressure was holding steady. It looked like they would make it through the doors with her consciousness.

Eric turned into the parking lot and drove them up the entrance, and they wasted no time getting her into the hospital. He gave report as they transferred her from stretcher to bed, then quickly got out of the way after they weren’t needed anymore.

He’d ignored the odd pull on his heart as they left the building, chalking it up to the absolutely stink-fest the back of his rig was.

It was only ten hours later when his phone rang.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch

@rainbowsandwhumperflies @snaillamp

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here~

Tales the Songs Weave

Notes: You and Miguel are together.

CW: He will smell something coming off of you, Miguel does have anger issues

Chapter 10: Same Way That the Stars Adorn the Sky...

Word count: 6.1K

Nearly a month passed as you and Miguel began to date. Well, as far as dating goes, there technically weren't any labels attached, but you assumed it was because Miguel was nervous about hopping into a relationship after so long.

You two still did the lovey-dovey couple activities; you were just strings attached with and without the string. Highly confusing, but you didn't mind.

Tapping your foot along to your music, you cook up some shrimp-fried rice. You came to realize that his job tends to hold him back, and you understood. Being a high-ranking worker and a hero can consume anyone's time, so who were you to be upset if he showed up late?

Especially when you took into consideration that he was missing hours to be with you when you would hang out every Wednesday night before.

You felt there was no reason to complain.

You got into the music more and more. You began to twirl and slide across the floor as if no one was watching you.

“You look so adorable dancing around.”

You jumped out of your skin as Miguel leaned against the pantry door.

“Miggy! I swear!” You feigned a grumpy pout as Miguel couldn't help but grin.

“I didn't hear you come in! Did you use my window again?” You turned one of the stove dials down, rotating over to him.

He just blinked and shrugged his shoulders. He was guilty.

“I made you a custom key and everything, and you still insist on using the window?” You tried to keep up the upset charade.

“I prefer it. It's more convenient to me.”

There was a day when Miguel stumbled through the window, gravely injured with a giant gash wound near his chest. You remembered freaking out, wondering why he didn't go to his job.

Apparently, he set his watch to go straight to your place after the mission was over but didn't take into account the collateral damage that was going to beseech him.

Miguel didn't have time to head to HQ, so he painstakingly taught you how to close it up just enough so it could revitalize properly on its own. With a first-aid kit, a fresh sewing needle, and thread you got from your job, you went to work.

Your hands never felt that steady in your life. You didn't realize how much blood a human could hold... or how much puke you'd held back after finishing.

You made sure to vomit when he was deeply asleep.

He ended up replacing your entire mattress, managing to find the exact bedsheets you had owned.

But ever since, he's been crawling through that window, no matter how much you whine about it.

“Miggy. The door.”

“Mi corazón.” He dragged out your nickname.

“I have a door right there. See, see! Door!” You expressively gestured toward it.

“Corazón!” He pushed himself off the pantry, entrapping you in a bear hug, and lifted you up with ease. “Mi chula. Mi adorable corazón.”

He trailed kisses from your forehead down to your neck as you rapidly patted his shoulders, laughing loudly.

“No, no, stop! That tickles! Miggy!” You squealed harder as Miguel tickled your sides, making you squirm. 

“He-hey! Not fair.” You giggled as Miguel went to kiss your neck again, randomly pausing.

He got a whiff of something. Something strong. 

“Miggy? You okay?” You calmed down and caught your breath as Miguel buried his head deeper into the crook of your neck. “Miggy?”

You've never seen him do something like this before, and it started to raise alarms. Miguel sniffed you and released a groan. Feeling the vibrations in his chest, his grip was gradually getting tighter. 

“Corazón…” Miguel grunted before snapping out of his haze. “¡Mierda! Lo siento mucho, corazón, no era mi intención hacer eso, algo se hizo cargo y no sé qué–” 

He placed you back on the floor before you lightly whacked his chest. “Hey, hey, it's okay. As long as you're okay. So, are you okay?”

Miguel gave a troubled nod. You motioned for him to come to you, to which he obliged. He bent over just enough so you could reach him. Holding his head, you gave him two pecks on the forehead, then pressed yours to it.

“Good, I'm glad you're okay. Now come on, the food should be ready.” You smiled brightly before giving him one more kiss on the lips.

Miguel still wasn't managing the relationship aspect well for himself. He was tremendously grateful for you enduring his moments and tendencies; however, he was still nervous about hurting you. 

“How was work today? You are a bit earlier than usual. I had a weird hunch that would happen too, so thank goodness I cooked when I did.”

Miguel collapsed on your couch, a habit he picked up even before you got together, and massaged his temples.

“Where do I even begin? We had two anomalies stuck on E-374, so that meant double the workers in that case, and I had to be there for that. What should have been an hour's work ended up turning into three when Jess's new rookie decided to do her own thing instead of following directions!”

You handed him his serving as he thanked you and hurriedly sat up to give you room to sit.

“Oh, the ghost teen? Yeah, teens tend to want to try and venture on their own path. Like any child, they require a lot of patience. Especially teens.”

Crossing your legs on the couch, you both began to devour the meal.

“I try to give them the patience; it's just so hard when you hand them those simple tasks and they still try to be all rebellious and diverge!” Miguel complained in-between bites.

“You're telling me you weren't a rebellious teen?” You placed a hand on your hip.

“No, I wasn't!” Miguel pushed his plate onto the table and crossed his arms.

A smug smile appeared on your face.

“Okay, yes, but that's different! What about you, then? Even though you wouldn't have struck me as one.”

“Hey! I did some rebellious things! I knew where the liquor cabinet was.”

“And did you drink any?” He picked his meal back up.

“Yes! I had a sip–then decided to wait until the legal drinking age. Oh, oh! I did sneak out once. But then they had to turn around fifteen minutes later because I kept crying about getting caught. Then there was that one time I asked permission about sneaking out…”

“My thoughts exactly. You were a good teen who followed directions! If only they were like you, I wouldn't have to deal with this.”

“But that's it; they're not like me. Like how you're not like me, and vice versa. We may have similar viewpoints about things, but we're our own individuals who are still learning to this very day, particularly teens. It's why they need patience so they can grow and understand the world around them.”

You stood up to grab water bottles. “You just have to explain your side.”

“I do!” He took the two bottles from your outstretched hand and opened one up.

“Without getting upset, listen to theirs. She probably saw something you didn't see, but the ideas may have clashed. We had our moments like that.”

“But the difference is that you actually hear what I have to say.” 

You smiled and bumped his shoulder, minding his meal and drink. “Well, I also don't get the yelling end. Perhaps that's why it's easier for us.”

“Why would I yell at you? You wouldn't do anything that would warrant it. In fact, I would never raise my voice at you.”

A small curve formed on your lips as you remembered the time Miguel mistakenly butt-dialed you as you heard Miguel shouting at Peter B. about him bringing his baby again on a mission. It was a chaotic five minutes of squealing laughter from a child and Peter and Miguel going back and forth.

Miguel had the urge to recoil until his body blipped out of existence when you told him. After that commotion, it worried you, so you taught him some breathing techniques if he ever felt that rise of aggravation begin to bubble.

It's been semi-helpful for him. He didn't realize how much he had to use to control his temper.

As a few hours crept by, Miguel's watch blared during the middle of a film you both decided to mindlessly check out.

“Miguel! We need you! Strong Sandman variant in E-2230! Truck. Truck! Hurry, Miguel!” An unfamiliar voice sprang out from the communicator as absolute chaos resounded in the background.

“Ay dios mío. ¿Puedo simplemente relajarme por el día?” He glided his hands through his curls. “¿Por un día?”

“Sounded pretty serious.” You nestled yourself into the soft blanket you were sharing beforehand.

“I guess it is if they need me.” He materialized his suit, leaving the mask off, and released a displeasing gruff.

“Still on for that rooftop date this week?” You pulled your body up so you were standing on the couch long enough to reach him.

“I'll see what I can do, corazón. It's just tough to make time now with all that's going on, and I ju-” 

You stole a kiss from him. “You know, I'll understand if we have to postpone. Now go out there and be the good guy that you are.”

You affectionately rested your forehead on his, garnering a smile from him.

“Gracias, mi corazón.”

“Of course, and use the door! The door–Miggy! The door. The door!”

Miguel sprinted towards your bedroom and right towards the window. “In a rush, mi corazón! More convenient!”

And with that, he was swinging into the city's night. You gave a bemused smile before laughing to yourself, resting on the wooden sill, gazing out over Nueva York's luminous view.

Miguel chuckled to himself as he grappled and flung from lamppost to building. He wanted to revel in the moment, especially after spending time with you, but his comrades wouldn't allow it as his wristwatch beeped and blared again.

Grating his teeth, he spawned a portal in mid-air and leapt right through. For once, he weirdly felt prepared to take on this situation. That's a common reaction, but now he seemed unstoppable.

This was the dynamic. You and Miguel appeared more lively—well, as lively as Miguel can get.

Ronnie nearly ecstatically backflipped off the shop's roof when you first told her you and Miguel were together.

You made sure to leave the Spider-Man part out.

And the spiders detected that Miguel didn't get irked as much. He still has his pissy moments, but they came off oddly tame.

Snuggling in your favorite cover, you stared at the sky. You focused your eyes on locating any other stars but found difficulty as the light pollution canceled it out.

“I swear one of these days I'm going to move out of the city.” You huff, rubbing your arms.

He was running late, but you didn't mind. You couldn't fully comprehend his work or what he exactly does, yet you were aware of the on-demand position he faced, and he was definitely worth the wait. 

Shutting your eyes and taking in the crisp air, you visualized an iridescent flare covered in a multitude of tinier colors.

“Hola, mi Miggy.” Your voice held that delight.

Miguel eyed you from behind, as he could picture the smile you were giving.

“Mi corazón. I'm so sorry I'm late! I got caught up in another mission. This time I was stuck with the cockney punk, Peter, and Jess's apprentice. Lo juro, estoy tratando de escucharlos, corazón, de verdad, es cuando hacen estup-”

“Come sit down, Miggy.” You tapped the empty spot next to you, not peering back.

Miguel didn't bother to phase his suit away and took the hint. You encased him in the blanket and cuddled up in his chest. Eyeing his state, his suit was a bit dusty; attempts at freshening up the sweat, the cuts, and dried blood. His gleaming, tanned skin bathed in the moonlight.

He was a rich, fine painting.

“You don't have to apologize, you know. If that were the case, it'd be an endless loop.” You knocked your head on his muscular arm.

“I knew what I was getting into. As long as I get to be with you, I'm fine if you're late. If it's one hour or two, hell, even eight, it'll be alright.”

“The forbearance of a saint. I swear, you make it seem so easy.” Miguel wrapped his arm around you, dragging you closer.

“Well, it's not something you wake up with one day. Just a commodity I've learned from years of what I've seen and gone through.”

Checking the time, you slapped at his thigh a bit. “Give me ten minutes. I'm going to run and make us some tea. I also made some cookies! Uh, the pre-made dough kind. I would've baked some, but I couldn't overcome the case of... laziness.”

He gave a slanted smile and whiffed a chuckle out. “That's fine, corazón. Take your time.”

With a cheer, you rushed down to your place as Miguel zoned out the minute you were out of sight.

This is what he should be used to. This is what he wants to be used to. No troubles, no pestering from spiders that do whatever they please, no anomalies, and no daunting pressure about a universe collapsing.

Even though it's wedged permanently into a part of his brain, it partially dwindles into a bean-sized thought when he's beside you. Whenever he's ready to see you, his heart and stomach flutter in anticipation.

Your smile, laughter, kindness, affection, and more embellish his formidable and stressful life. It's to the point where he daydreams about a future with you. He notes it to be utterly pathetic, as if he's some hopeless romantic. But he just can't stop the thoughts.

Living in a gorgeous, rustic farmhouse by a lake. A garden spirited with fresh fruits, vegetables, and flowers as his children pluck away weeds or harvest some of the delicious foods for the night's dinner.

As the heat passes through, he'll bring out some fresh lemonade as his kids dash in his direction, laughing with your smile. They'll chug it down and immediately want to wrestle before you warn them not to, as they just drank, and it'll make them sick.

They’ll share a calming moment before joining back together and helping in the mini-farmland. He's one with peace—a warmth he hasn't been acquainted with in so long. He'll look up, his heart melting as the kids' curiosity seeps through, and you'll answer, giving your words of compassion and wisdom.

He'll be happy. At that moment, he was happy. In this moment, he wants to be-

“Miggy? You okay?”

Miguel, containing his discomfiting reaction, turned over to the voice. You'd held a tray with a plate full of gooey chocolate-chip cookies and two mugs with steam flowing out of them.

“Si, corazón. Going over the assignment from earlier. Thinking how it could've gone smoother.”

Placing the tray in front, you carefully handled his tea and settled it in his hands.

“I'm sure everything went well, Miggy. You got that wicked, intellectual, massive brain power going on up there. Knowing all those big boys science and math to help you out!”

Miguel didn't know, but rather to be fazed or amused by that, before a hardy laugh broke out.

“Big boy science and math?”

“Yeah. Especially math, because you calculate the problems!” Your eyes crinkled as you granted him a giant, wide-mouthed smile.

Miguel sat the tea beside him and rested his claws over his face. An absurd, muffled wail of agony escaped the man as he shook his head.

“Ay dios mío–where's the suit? You must be hiding it somewhere.”

He cradled you in his arms and pokes your sides as snorts of laughter spewed out from you. You both eventually recovered from the antics and munched on a few cookies while sipping the herbal tea.

“Oh, hey, it's the start of a new month. A new beginning.” You signal at the waning crescent and lone star.

Miguel stalks to where your attention was directed, as his eyes go back and forth between the two.

“I know about the new month and how it signifies the time change, but new beginnings?”

“Mhm. In a way, a new month is the start of something fresh. When you close the last day of the month, the calendar rolls over to a whole different part.”

You take a sip of your beverage.

“Sure, the days and months are the same every day of every year, but when they change, so can life. The moon and star can start and continue a story, but the chapters will be different. Progress! Progress will always be made, no matter how you look at it.”

Miguel sat his mug down. He let your words sink into his depths as he took your views into consideration.

“Do you think I have progressed?”

“For the month? Yeah, they're small but still noticeable. I've noticed you have been doing the breathing exercises whenever something irks you. You say what's on your mind a bit more, which I'm really happy for.”

You snuggle next to him, your head near his pec.

“You slightly ask for more help instead of struggling because of that control you try to unhealthily keep fed. You take my compliments a bit better; you still have moments of rejecting them, but it's still a good step.” You placed your mug next to his.

“You know, now that I say all that out loud, they're bigger progressions than tiny ones from my standpoint.” You giggled as Miguel just stared.

“Miggy, is everything okay? I didn't upset you, did I?”

He only shook his head, placing your hands in his. “I-I just remembered something I read a long time ago.”

Squeezing his hands, you waited for him to speak his mind.

“Osram ne nsoromma. The moon and star also represent love, faithfulness, and harmony. The symbol represents a bond between two lovers. It's usually for marriage, but I now believe it can go even further.”

Your heart raced as your mouth gaped open. “Miguel…”

“Luna. Mi Luna. Corazón, you are my moon. Whenever you illuminate the night's sky, I will always be there, right next to you or all around.”

He caressed your cheek as he wiped a tear away.

“How do you say star in Spanish?”

“Estrella.”

“Mi Estrella, my star. The moon and star. Even if all the other lights try to hide them, they will manage to shine the brightest.”

Your lips met in a fiery, impassioned kiss, entangled in an embrace that you both refused to separate from.

“I swear… we are so cheesy like year-old cheddar.” You dried your eyes, as more teardrops flowed and a shiver of laughter escaped from you.

“Si, mi Luna, but if it's near you, I would be the cheesiest cheese in the entire universe.”

Miguel pulled you up and tightly hugged you. He embedded his face in the crook of your neck and lightly kissed it. Trembling on the flurries from his lips, a whimper leaves your mouth.

Then that scent punched his nostrils. 

“Corazón…”

A strangled moan escaped from Miguel. His grasp refused to loosen. His tongue was swirling and teasingly gliding against your delicate skin.

You forced your squeaks back, as you didn't want anyone to hear you both up there. But when he grazed his fangs against your skin, a whiny cry found its way out. Miguel slipped his claws under the hems of your shirt, faintly nicking your flesh with his talons.

“Mi corazón. Hueles tan delicioso. Tu aroma perfecto y tu piel aterciopelada es adictiva, mi Luna.”

“Mi-Miguel, wa-wait. Fuck–Mm!” You bit your tongue, mewls coming from your throat as you gripped his hair.

His calloused fingers left circled patterns over your waist, his teeth sinking into your supple skin, nipping and sucking roughly. His claws sneakily palmed your breasts, squeezing the wretched fabric that stood in between him and your lovely mounds.

“Mi Estrella–” you slurred in lust, your mind racing in rounds until it was dizzy.

Miguel removed his mouth, and a giant reddish-purple splotch lay proudly for all to see.

He grabbed your sides, mindful of his sharp nails. His dangerous, carmine eyes pierced into yours. You stared back, heaving, as Miguel brought his thumbs down to your puffy lips, parting them with ease. Your tongue marginally slipped out, an indication he took to run them down your glossy appendage. Your breaths were ragged—how hot it was against his fingers.

He moved them away, causing you to whimper. Your aroma managed to become stronger, and that sprang another part out of him.

“Mi Luna is going through a time. She's about to begin... Mi corazón is going to start.” His husky voice huffed against your neck as you moaned out loudly.

He bundled up a portion of your hair, bringing your neck closer to his mouth, and bared his fangs. You quivered violently, petrified, and yet intoxicated, as you were ready to be bitten–

“¡Ah, mierda!”

Miguel yanked away, sporadic wheezing expelled from you both. Miguel drew back his claws, and you uncoordinatedly straightened your hair back to its original state.

You were a few inches apart as you two gazed out into the city's skylines.

You debated if you should question what happened but refrained from it and peeked over at him, observing his ashamed face. You could tell he was rebuking his actions mentally, and it crushed your soul.

“Don't, mi Estrella. I enjoyed it. I very much loved every second of it.” You filled that shred of space that he made between you two.

“Corazón, I nearly bit you. What if I accidentally punctured an artery? What if I hurt you? What if I-”

Thud.

Your forehead was on his, and your digits were kneading his shoulders to relax him.

“I know you wouldn't, Miggy. I trust you with my body. I know that's crazy to say, but I'm saying it because I'm comfortable around you. I know you'll never do anything to harm me in any way. Well–”

You leaned into his ear and licked his earlobe. “Unless I asked for it.”

An electric bolt shocked down his spine, making him grunt. His eyes were scanning yours, as he only saw that consideration and understanding. That love. That affection.

A string snapped to the ground.

“Come with me to my job.” Miguel snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you down.

Letting out a squeaky “oomph,” you landed on his hard chest. “Hu-huh?! Do what now?”

You balanced your elbows on his pecs and scooted your way to face him. 

“Come back to the HQ with me. Spend the night.”

You flickered your eyes, confused at so many things.

“Wait, wait. Several questions.”

“Alright, adelante.” He nodded to let you continue.

“One. You stay at your job? Two, spend the night tonight? Or another night tonight? Three, is that allowed? I know you can have visitors, but not after closing hours.”

“One, yes. I have an apartment near the top floor. Two, yes. Tonight. Three, I'm the leader; I'm allowed to bring in anyone.”

You couldn't argue with those results, but that angel on your shoulder was vocalizing their worries. “Fair, fair. We'll be okay, right?”

“Si, mi Luna, but we'll have to go through the back entrance.” Miguel arranged you so you were straddling in his lap.

“Not the front?” You angled your head upward.

“I don't want them harassing us both. They are a very nosy and gossiping bunch.”

Bowing your head, you began to gather the dishes. “Well, if that's the case, help me clean while I pack up some clothes! Do you think you'll be able to get me to work tomorrow?”

“If I can turn a forty-minute walk into ten, I can definitely get you there in the same amount of time or less.” Miguel swiped up the tray for you.

“Sounds like a plan! Alright, give me some time, and we can head on out.”

With a pep in your steps, you packed a small drawstring bag with your pajamas, extra clothes, and a few hygienic products.

Miguel proposed swinging you both over to the headquarters, just so you could become familiar with the process.

You loved that idea. Being lifted off the ground into the metropolis’ gleaning nightfall. The ambience that will ring around them.

Who would regret a choice such as that?

 

You regretted that choice.

 

Clinging onto his front for dear life as the winds violently whipped your hair and face. Screeching, you realized whiplash was certainly what you were going to feel as he propelled his body from building to building, with the occasional extreme free fall.

His claws were grating up the infrastructures before being aggressively snapped forward whenever he flung his neon web out.

No wonder he had you wear your bag upfront as he deathly tied the opening. All of your items would've been scattered across Nueva York like a scavenger hunt. 

Miguel touches down behind the tower with a powerful thump, his hand patting your back.

“Alright, we're here. You're okay, right?”

Skidding down his body, you dared not  speak one word, dropping down to the pavement floor on your hands and knees. You appeared as if you were a wet cat who just got pushed into the water.

“I love solid ground. I would make love to every inch of this sidewalk if given the possibility. Oh God, I'll just wake up early and walk to work. Yeah. Yeah, I'll go with that.”

Miguel rolled his eyes and puffed a chuckle out. He assisted you up, stabilizing you to make sure you reclaimed your bearings.

“Okay, but if you're running late, mi Luna, that'll be on you.”

You nuzzled your head into his torso, giggling into it. “I'll take the repercussions. But, if I'm desperate, I'll ask for the express pass.”

You bumped your hip into his side and looked up.

“So this is the place. Jeez, Miggy, how do you not get disoriented with this?”

Miguel shrugged his shoulders. “Second nature? You get used to these things.” He twisted his body around, making sure the coast was clear.

“Alright, let's head on in.”

Miguel took your hand into his and led you towards a narrow pathway with a singular street lamp illuminating a very unused pathway.

At first glance, it seems to be a regular wall that's attached to the building, but hidden away, tucked in a corner, were two steps leading to a single steel security door. It's blocked out, even from a bird's-eye view, just as he wanted it.

He specifically demanded to have a secret back entrance when he wanted to sneak away from it all. He scarcely uses it, but when the time is desperately desired, he heads on off. You observed as he punched a few buttons on a digital keypad, intrigued by the separate world behind that barrier.

Jitters snuck its way to you as he pulled the door open for you. You were ready to view the vast amounts of colorful spider-people swinging by and crawling up the walls from all sides.

Then your face dropped. Buzzing lights, white panels, and dirt-free, blue tiles underneath filled the hallway from as far as you could see.

“It looks like a bad clinic horror film.” You swirled your head from wall to wall.

“It's designed to be like this. It doesn't get any sort of traffic. Only two of us know about this. Well, three now, but I'm one of them. Come on.”

The walk seemed endless. The corridor looped endlessly for you as nothing changed. Finally entering a new section with spread-out hanging wires and brighter lights, a single door on wood panel partitions stared them down.

“Are there more apartments, or is it just yours?”

“There are spare rooms, but not like this.”

He fumbled for his key and opened it when new voices began to close in on your direction. Miguel shoved you in and briskly slammed the door shut.

“So after every mission, you have to make sure that you file a report in the system. That way, everything is orderly, and—oh, evening, Miguel.” Jess acknowledged her superior and pinned her hands to her hips.

A teen with half-shaven, ear-length blonde hair saluted Miguel, then immediately finger-gunned. “Evening, captain. Or do I call you Miguel? I'm still trying to figure that part out. The other spiders say leader; others say superior. I hear the vampire overlord from time to ti-”

“Gwen. Shut up.” Jess pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Shutting up.” She zipped her lip and pretended to throw away the key.

Miguel narrowed his eyes on her, still dissatisfied with the earlier events, even more so with the ‘vampire overlord’ nickname he didn't know about.

“Oh, Lord, anyways, I was meaning to contact you about you taking off right after the mission. You usually stay behind to make sure things are in proper order, but they said you just took off. What happened?” Jess dryly asked.

“I had to do more coding for a molecular device I'm wanting to use for the Go Home Machine. And I'm creating a new invention that will smooth and increase the portal's wrap speeds.”

Miguel leaned his back against the wall and glared at the two. “I wanted to jump back into it.”

“Oh, sweet, you are? Thank goodness, I swear, when I'm blasting through, my stomach feels as though it's being yanked out of the soul and the bod-”

“Gwen!” Jess turned to her with a disbelieving, scrunched frown.

“Gotta lock that key from me! Lock it up and just throw it. Okay, I'll just–” She nervously tittered before taking three steps back.

“Right. Miguel, you've been working on these projects for a while now. I've noticed the influx of days you've been missing to work on them. Look, if you need me to have Lyla or Spider-Byte assist you in the work, we can reduce their time on other proj-”

“I don't need assistance. I'm fine doing it by myself.” Miguel shoved himself off the hardwood.

“You say that, but for the past, what? For three and a half months, you've been working on these, and I'm hardly seeing any progress being made. Plus, the extra reports and anomaly cases have started piling up on my end. I've been telling you, Miguel, I need help.”

“They take time, Jess. I'm doing them. I just don't want to waste productivity on tedious paperwork.” He hissed, trying to curb his temper.

Lies. Lies. They were all lies, and he knew it.

“I know that stuff takes time, Miguel, but you promised that you wouldn't leave me in the open like this.”

“Jess, yes, I get it. I just need the time." Miguel's breathing picked up as Jess continued her tirade.

“I recall alerting you months prior that there's been rampant increases in anomaly activities. And I'm just alerting you now that the papers have been accumulating over the week, and I need you to-”

“JUST SEND THE DAMN REPORTS. I'LL DO THEM.”

He rammed the wall with his closed fit, causing a piece of wood panel to collapse on the ground. Gwen covered her face, hoping not to get smacked by plywood.

He brazenly inhaled and exhaled out the nose and mouth. His strained, ragged breathing saturated the tense air between the three. Gwen pretended to check her phone as Jess closed her eyes, the noiseless space ringing until she spoke up.

“Miguel. I know things have been tough lately, but like you tell us, focus on the tasks at hand. Right now, these tasks need to be reported, making sure those anomalies’ messes are thoroughly scrubbed clean. That's all I'm asking.”

Miguel withheld any comments about that. Refusing to even make a peep. Pressing her lips together, Jess tapped Gwen's shoulder.

“Let's go. I'll show you an efficient way to document your assignments.”

Gwen returned it with a thumbs-up. “Sounds good. Uh, see you around, boss.” She gave a stilted wave, then hastened her steps to the opposite end.

“I'm not trying to attack you, Miguel.”

“That sounds exactly what you're trying to do.” He harped back.

She opted to ignore that. “You've been more distracted as of late, and it's been stressful for us as well. I just want to be on the same page.”

He averted his attention to the floor. He hated how she was right. He scorned the fact, but he couldn't tell the reason.

It'll damage them too much. 

“Night, Jess.”

Jess clicked her tongue. “I'll send you the folders. Goodnight, Miguel.”

No other words were exchanged. No more needed to be.

Your ears perked when you heard the door hinges squeak a bit. “Everything okay? I heard a loud bang.”

Miguel trudged over to his couch, where you resided, and slouched next to you. 

“Just my secondary refusing to understand that I have other things to attend to. I have too much on my plate, and she just wants to pile more shit on me!”

You sensed the heated vexation emitting off him as his leg juddered. Your right hand positioned itself over his knee and waited. It took a minute, but it decreased in speed.

You knew.

“Being a leader is hard. They always look to you for everything or the right choices. You're held to these impossible standards just because you're the overseer… but is the leader also not allowed to have someone to rely on as well?”

You rubbed your hand in circular motions as he drooped on the sofa more.

“You have so much weight on you; does no one help take some of it off your shoulders? I know Peter, but what about the others?”

Miguel kneaded his temples and sighed out. “In a way, they try, but they don't do it right. I have to do so much, but more things pop up, and it never ends.”

“Ah, that unhealthy habit of you fueling that control. You haul it around to the point where you're burning yourself out, mi Estrella.”

“I just don't want anything to go wrong, but I have things that I need to do. It's an endless cycle of so many things that need to be taken care of. But I can't do those things because of moments like this!”

His claws dragged against the cushions, ripping up some of the padding. You removed your hand from his knee to his hand.

“Remember at the gardens how I said I envied flowers?”

Miguel turned to you with a quizzical gaze. “Yes?”

“And how they're able to show vulnerability.”

“Yes. I remember.”

“From the things you've told me, it sounds like you're used to doing everything by yourself because you're worried others will mess up, but it's okay to slip up and show vulnerability and ask for help. We rely on each other, from the smallest of things to the biggest.”

You interlaced his and your fingers together.

“Maybe try telling your secondary, uh, Jess? That's her name, yeah, if there's anyone who can help out with some of the stuff that has to be done. If there's hundreds of spider-people working here, I'm pretty sure they're all crazy smart to take on some of the endeavors that you do.”

Was Miguel being biased in this situation? Yes, he was, but hearing it from you was soothing. That benign, good-willed nature as you conversed with him instead of tearing him down.

“I-I will see what I can do, mi Luna. Simplemente, no puedo creerlo. How are you so gentle?”

“I'm not gentle.” You giggled. “I just want to make sure that you're okay. I deeply care for you, Miguel, and I only want the best for you.”

“No, no, mi corazón, you are very gentle.” He engulfed you in a firm hold, kissing your forehead as you laughed, and grabbed his arm with both your hands.

“Alright, alright. I'll be gentle as an excuse to forgive you for pushing me into your apartment.”

“Ay, I'm sorry, mi Luna. I panicked when I heard others, and I didn't want them harassing you and-”

“Hey, hey, it's okay; I'm just teasing.” You placed your lips on his forearm and nuzzled more into him.

Miguel sheepishly grinned and buried his face in your hair.

“So…”

“Si, mi corazón?”

“Going to show me around your place? It's so dark in here, I nearly stumbled over many unknown objects.”

“Ah–sorry about that. Yes, I'll show you around.”

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

@ella-janehaven @prozacgooble @sanguwuxyoonbummy

[ageofstarkey]

soft glow ✰ m. riddle

summary: sleepy mornings with matthéo

pairing: bf!matthéo x reader

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but nothing really other than that!! just tooth rotting fluff n théo who’s soft for u and no one else!! :’))

note: hi!! i’m not sure how i feel about this one but i still think it’s a lil tiny bit cute so i’m posting!! feel free to send in requests!!

masterlist

comments & reblogs are so appreciated! <3

✰ ✰ ✰

when you wake up, matthéo’s bedroom is warm with the soft glow of morning. golden rays of sunlight peek stubbornly through his drapes, and soft white noise filters steadily in through the window.

as you slowly come to, you begin to register the familiar sensation of matthéo’s touch. his calloused fingers glide almost curiously across your face; carefully tracing each curve and dip, as if to memorize your every detail.

with a soft hum, you finally blink open your eyes - squinting into the sunlight. you roll towards matthéo with a yawn, offering him a sleepy smile. “hi”

matthéo grins, smoothing a mess of tangled hair away from your face. “hi, darling.” his voice is raspy and painfully fond - and your heart aches pleasantly behind your ribcage. his hand slides casually to the back of your neck, and you quietly hope that your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “how’d you sleep?”

“me? oh - i slept terribly” you’re aiming for deadpan in a desperate attempt to play it cool, but you wear a giddy little grin that almost certainly gives you away. “worst sleep of my life.”

“oh yeah?”

you nod with all the conviction you can muster - which admittedly isn’t much. “mhmm” with a little stretch, you’re leaning upwards to kiss his cheek. “you snore louder than my granddad.”

matthéo scoffs in mock offence, fingers poking teasingly at your side. “‘s that so?”

you nod once more, trying desperately to stifle a giggle. matthéo’s teasing is relentless, and you squirm clumsily away from his prodding fingers. in the end - it doesn’t take long for you to give in. “okay! okay - fine!” you laugh breathlessly. “you don’t snore and i had the best sleep of my life. is that what you wanted to hear?”

“yes actually. because you on the other hand - you do snore and it’s really quite loud - sort of like-”

“matthéo!” he’s being mean on purpose and you pretend to hate it. “i do not snore!”

“okay but how do you know you don’t snore, hm? i mean - if you’re asleep when it happens…” he tugs you towards his bare chest, one arm wrapped firmly around your back. “you wouldn’t really know, would you?” he punctuates his words with a soft kiss to your forehead, and you all but melt into his gentle embrace.

“i hate you.” with your face smushed against matthéo’s chest, your words come out awkward and muffled. “like - i really, really can’t stand you sometimes.”

he tugs you impossibly closer with a pleased laugh. “don’t lie, sweetheart”

“i’m not lying!”

he tilts your head upwards before slowly kissing your lips. you feel warm all over, and you chase him with a quiet whine when he pulls away. “if you really hate me, why were you screaming m-”

“you’re so awful!”

[fiepige]

Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:

Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release

You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')

[boyfridged]

You may have already mentioned this in some of your other metas, and I just missed it, so please ignore this if it's redundant.

Do you think Bruce is projecting onto Jason by pushing him as a Robin? Obviously, Jason wanted to be Robin and was excited about it, and Bruce let Jason do other things, but (if I'm not mistaken) before Tim came into play, solidifying the whole Batman needs a Robin/support to keep him upright, Bruce and Dick becoming Batman and Robin, in the beginning, was also sort of a coping mechanism.

I think there are a few examples of Bruce enabling this kind of mindset. Like in Gotham Knights #43–44 (sorry), every time Barbara brings up Jason's inner turmoil, Bruce refocuses on his ability as a Robin; similarly, when Jason finds out about Two-Face and his dad, he is hurt, and Bruce acknowledges that but then does the same thing, zeroing in on reassuring Jason that he made a mistake but is still a good Robin.

Like, Jason got it from Bruce, but he unintentionally encouraged that kind of thinking.

oh, i definitely think that bruce is projecting on jason and that it profoundly affected jay. and, while every single one of your observations is apt, i would add that what truly made it so tragic is that he projected his own worst traits on jason while being blind to the fact that jay already shared his best qualities.

tldr: bruce projects himself on jason in terms of grief (saying that jason needs vigilantism to work his grief through) and sees his own worst traits in jason (anger) but doesn't see his own best traits in jay (compassion, love, and sensitivity). ironically, jason does end up developing all of the (projected) worst characteristics of bruce (obsessiveness, and relentlessness in pursuit of the respective perceived idea of justice). this happens even though they were barely present in his early storylines, and only ever manifested when jason was scared or lost. later, they truly came to be because of his trauma relating to vigilantism.

and the long, long version, coming with panels and quotes: under the cut.

first i want to say that the following analysis focuses very specifically on bruce's mistakes, but i don't view the overall of jay's upbringing by bruce solely in these terms. from text it is also clear that bruce deeply loves and cares about jay, and that jay enjoys being robin. now that this is clear, let's get to particularities, and start with jay's origin story.

i truly never stop thinking about the significance of bruce meeting jay in the crime alley, the place of his parents' death. there's a lot to be said about it, but here the focus is, of course, on the fact that he sees a little boy, very much similar to himself, angry and hurt, in the same scenery that brought him so much grief. and jay in some ways does appear to be a mirror of bruce's own agonies, as well as a mirror of his own inclination for seeking justice; and somehow, bruce fixates on the first one, while almost completely dismissing the latter.

bruce looks at him and assumes that the remedy to jason's pain and anger is being robin; and he doesn't stop to think about it. (it has to be noted that there's also classism at play, classism that is mostly a result of writers' own beliefs – collins did state in a couple of interviews that that the motivation behind jason's background was to make his introduction into vigilantism seem less offensive, as jason has already been exposed to crime...)

i think, in this context, it's interesting to look at the two-face storyline even closer, and from the start too. in the beginning, bruce talks of jason's 'street' roots and assumes jay would go "down the same criminal road that took his father [willis] to an early death." he also talks of jason making a lot of progress. later, in batman #411, after jason learns that willis has been killed by two-face, bruce comments that jay "has never been like this...listless...almost pouting--"

this all, along with jay's cheerful and diligent behaviour from the previous issue builds an interesting picture for us: because we essentially learn that jay has been overall an unproblematic child. bruce, of course, attributes this "progress" to the training. however, for anyone else, the logical conclusion would be that jay's quick adjustment was simply a matter of finding himself in a safe and stable environment and receiving continuous support and attention from a parental figure. i find it rather questionable that jason's personality softened down because he had something to punch in the cave–– the more intuitive explanation is of course that he was angry and quick to fight when they first met because he couldn't afford anything else and because he was scared. but months later, in a loving home, he can allow himself to drop his guard; and his cocky attitude disappears until much later.

so the rather unsettling picture that we derive is that bruce is training jay to become a vigilante in order to "channel" his (nonvisible at this point) anger into something useful and just. and he clearly links this to his own trauma in batman #416 (that’s already starlin btw), in his conversation with dick, explaining why he took jay in: “he’s so full of anger and frustration… he reminds me of myself, just after my parents were killed.” bruce also mentions that soon after their first meeting, jason helped him and "handled himself well" in the fight, but he doesn't mention that jay has ran away from a crime "school" and intended to stop injustice on his own only because he was ignored.

the theme of bruce comparing jay to himself appears again in detective comics #574 (barr), where it is approached with a much more... critical look, thanks to leslie's presence and her skepticism of bruce's actions. after jason has suffered nearly fatal injuries at the hand of the mad hatter, bruce reminisces on his own trauma and motives. he tells leslie: "i didn't choose jason for my work. he was chosen by it...as i was chosen." leslie replies: "stop that! (...) you do this for yourself... you're still that little boy (...)" then, the conversation steers to the familiar ground and the topic of anger. in bruce's words, again: “i wanted to give jason an outlet for his rage…wanted him to expunge his anger and get on with his life…” and finishes "and instead, i may have killed him."

the recognition that bruce's projection on jason and involving him with his work might have fatal consequences is, as always, fast forgotten once jay wakes up and proclaims that he wants to continue his work as robin.

but to circle back, i think there's something else worth our attention, something deeply ironic, that is showcased in that issue: that bruce has no evidence for jay's "rage." when leslie talks of bruce's past, she recalls his tendencies to get into brutal fights at perceived injustice as early as in school; when bruce talks of jason, two pictures that are juxtaposed, are that of jason fighting as robin and jason... smiling, playing baseball.

so, in the early days of jason's training and work in the field, we see bruce talking of jason's anger a lot; but we barely see it.

that being said, jay is angry sometimes– and i think your observation about how bruce deals with it is incredibly interesting and accurate.

we first see jay truly and devastatingly angry in the two-face storyline. bruce focuses on jay's reaction as robin, which is, in fact, aggressive. but something that he barely addresses is that jason's first reaction is sleeping all day, and not beating anyone to a pulp; in fact, this vengeful instinct seems to arise only when he is put right in front of two-face. and his third instinct, once the rage (very quickly) dies down after the altercation with two-face, is crying, because bruce hid the truth about willis' death from him. jay, while crying, asks bruce: "you have taken me out into combat-- but you spare me this?" in response, bruce lectures jason about how grief inspires revenge, which is, again, deeply ironic, given that jay seeking out revenge seemed to be prompted and enabled solely by the role of robin. moreover, his question suggests that at this point he saw grief ("you spare me this") and fighting as two different things.

the final is, as you said, bruce focusing on making it into a lesson on vigilantism, or, in his own words, "tempering revenge into justice." personally, i think in this way bruce directs jason to bring his grief into the field as a powering force, something that he didn't necessarily have an own incentive to do. the flash of compartmentalisation between his ordinary life and being a sidekick that jay has shown by questioning bruce's decision is lost. emotions are now a robin thing, and they have an (informal) protocol, a moral code. and when jay is confronted with an emotionally exhausting case next – the garzonas case, i believe that the focus on "tempering revenge into justice" is exactly the problem– we don't see jay crying, we see him frantic about finding the solution. this, right there, is bruce's obsessiveness, that in my opinion, was developed in jay specifically as a result of how his engagement with vigilantism combines with his deep sensitivity.

and, needless to say, his sensitivity is all the same as that of bruce – they both can't stand looking at other people hurting, they both wear their hearts on their sleeve, caring way too much – the thing is, bruce never quite acknowledges how they are similar in this matter. instead, he focuses on his sparse bursts of anger, wanting to bring jason closure in his grief the only way he knows it – in a fight for a better world. so, as you said, he focuses on jason's ability as robin.

which just doesn't work for jason. at all. we know it from how his robin run comes to an end: in the first issue of a death in the family (batman #426) alfred informs: “i’ve come upon him, several times, looking at that battered old photograph of his mother and father, crying.”  to that, bruce contends: “in other words, i may have started jason as robin before he had a chance to come to grips with his parents deaths.” he also tells jay that the field is not a place for someone who is hurting; a message that is the opposite of what he's been saying for years now, and something that i imagine was difficult for bruce to conceptualise, because then he would have to question his own unhealthy tendencies. it's a bit late to come to this realisation; bruce's self-projection that caused him to worry so much about jay's anger has already turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy that will fully manifest itself in utrh, when jason does the only thing he was taught to do with grief: try to channel it into justice.

[widevibratobitch]

so i am singing that vitellia in the end... but at what fucking cost.

'you gotta sing this softer'

'what'

'this is mozart'

'this is vitellia'

'this is mozart'

'im singing about how much i hate this mf and want him dead before the end of the day'

'this is mozart'

'i wanna murder a guy'

'this is mozart'

'...'

'softer. gentle. mozart'

'...ok'