#latinx mention

[gloriousmonsters]

latin american spanish dub of Hazbin changing Valentino calling Angel 'amorcito' to 'my darling', in English, in one of his messages is such a galaxy brained change i'm still thinking about it

[thefriendofdorthea]

Um, why did no one tell me how fucking good Wendell & Wild is?! I'VE BEEN CRAVING THIS LEVEL OF INCLUSIVITY FOR DECADES

[x-v4mp3y3lin3r-x]

"latinx is forcing white colonialism on Spanish"

[oilujcarpio]

National Suicide Prevention Month

I didn't know how important September would be for me growing up. I didn't see the value in so much potential as a kid; it's honestly quite humbling. Yet, here I find myself, after all this time, posted up at my desk at a reasonable hour on a day I won't be going to work.

Allow me to explain- I'm a teacher as well. You'd think that with all the flack we give teachers, people would be a little nicer to an educator trying to care for himself. I'm really trying here!

This month is back-to-school and the kick-off of the autumn and spooky seasons, respectively, and National Suicide Prevention Month. On days like today, when the world can be quiet and comforting for just a few seconds, this is where I find myself when I want to write about what I feel.

Septembers used to be about the music and my friends, but now I use these days to ponder on my own melancholy and mortality. Memento mori, and all that jazz ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . What the fuck, man?

I don't know how or when I arrived at this juncture, but I like the view from it. My Dickinson-fueled stupor is nothing more than my own longing for sweet release from this mortal coil- an escape from the mundanity of present-day Earth. I seem to spend most of my time pondering on days long since passed.

My non-restraint when it comes to all things nostalgia has most certainly grown over the years. I oft look back lovingly at my younger selves and hope they're doing well, especially during months like these. The other day, my therapist said I had sounded "confident" during our last session. I hope that these past versions of me are gladdened by these comments. We've worked so freaking hard to get to this point in time. Lord knows I've busted my hump trying to kick and scream my way here.

It's been a few years since I've used this website and written in this capacity, so I wanted to take a few moments to clear the air as well.

I got married in 2020 to a person I thought I knew. A person I thought I could trust. He was sweet and kind at first, but there was always this lingering fragment of doubt in my mind, so things would never work out between us. Our trust had splintered and fragmented so much over the years that it made more sense to pack up my things and call it quits while I still had what was left of my dignity.

We got divorced last year.

I got divorced last year.

fuck

I don't know how I got here, yet here I stand. At such a great precipice, I can only think, "What's next?"

This suicide prevention month is the one I get myself writing again and putting out more regular content. I hope to edit and revise the new book I've been trying to not release. Here's to hoping I get over myself and listen to more Charli Xcx instead of whatever else I could be thinking at a time like this.

I don't know what's next for me on this wild ride we call "life." All I can hope is that my friends and family are with me while I do it.

Hasta la proxima,

J.

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer Books Challenged in Florida Schools and Libraries

There are some affiliate links below in case you want to support MQH.

Gender Queer: A Memoir, Maia Kobabe: Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma and fundamental violation of pap smears.

The Color Purple, Alice Walker: Separated as girls, sisters Celie and Nettie sustain their loyalty to and hope in each other across time, distance and silence. Through a series of letters spanning nearly thirty years, first from Celie to God, then the sisters to each other despite the unknown, the novel draws readers into its rich and memorable portrayals of Celie, Nettie, Shug Avery and Sofia and their experience. The Color Purple broke the silence around domestic and sexual abuse, narrating the lives of women through their pain and struggle, companionship and growth, resilience and bravery.

Julián Is a Mermaid, Jessica Love: While riding the subway home from the pool with his abuela one day, Julián notices three women spectacularly dressed up. Their hair billows in brilliant hues, their dresses end in fishtails, and their joy fills the train car. When Julián gets home, daydreaming of the magic he's seen, all he can think about is dressing up just like the ladies in his own fabulous mermaid costume: a butter-yellow curtain for his tail, the fronds of a potted fern for his headdress. But what will Abuela think about the mess he makes -- and even more importantly, what will she think about how Julián sees himself? Mesmerizing and full of heart, Jessica Love's author-illustrator debut is a jubilant picture of self-love and a radiant celebration of individuality.

Drama: A Graphic Novel, Raina Telgemeier: Callie loves theater. And while she would totally try out for her middle school's production of Moon over Mississippi, she can't really sing. Instead she's the set designer for the drama department's stage crew, and this year she's determined to create a set worthy of Broadway on a middle-school budget. But how can she, when she doesn't know much about carpentry, ticket sales are down, and the crew members are having trouble working together? Not to mention the onstage AND offstage drama that occurs once the actors are chosen. And when two cute brothers enter the picture, things get even crazier!

Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas: Yadriel has summoned a ghost, and now he can't get rid of him. When his traditional Latinx family has problems accepting his true gender, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. However, the ghost he summons is actually Julian Diaz, the school's resident bad boy, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He's determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave.

I Am Billie Jean King, Brad Meltzer: This friendly, fun biography series focuses on the traits that made our heroes great--the traits that kids can aspire to in order to live heroically themselves. Each book tells the story of one of America's icons in a lively, conversational way that works well for the youngest nonfiction readers and that always includes the hero's childhood influences. At the back are an excellent timeline and photos. This volume features Billie Jean King, the world champion tennis player who fought successfully for women's rights. From a young age, Billie Jean King loved sports--especially tennis! But as she got older, she realized that plenty of people, even respected male athletes, didn't take women athletes seriously. She set to prove them wrong and show girls everywhere that sports are for everyone, regardless of gender.

This One Summer, Mariko Tamaki: Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. One of the local teens - just a couple of years older than Rose and Windy - is caught up in something bad... Something life threatening. It's a summer of secrets, and sorrow, and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.

Marriage of a Thousand Lies, Sj Sindu: Lucky and her husband, Krishna, are gay. They present an illusion of marital bliss to their conservative Sri Lankan-American families, while each dates on the side. It's not ideal, but for Lucky, it seems to be working. She goes out dancing, she drinks a bit, she makes ends meet by doing digital art on commission. But when Lucky's grandmother has a nasty fall, Lucky returns to her childhood home and unexpectedly reconnects with her former best friend and first lover, Nisha, who is preparing for her own arranged wedding with a man she's never met.

And Tango Makes Three, Peter Parnell: At the penguin house at the Central Park Zoo, two penguins named Roy and Silo were a little bit different from the others. But their desire for a family was the same. And with the help of a kindly zookeeper, Roy and Silo got the chance to welcome a baby penguin of their very own.

More Happy Than Not, Adam Silvera: In the months following his father's suicide, sixteen-year-old Aaron Soto can't seem to find happiness again, despite the support of his girlfriend, Genevieve, and his overworked mom. Grief and the smile-shaped scar on his wrist won't let him forget the pain. But when Aaron meets Thomas, a new kid in the neighborhood, something starts to shift inside him. Aaron can't deny his unexpected feelings for Thomas despite the tensions their friendship has created with Genevieve and his tight-knit crew. Since Aaron can't stay away from Thomas or turn off his newfound happiness, he considers taking drastic actions. The Leteo Institute's revolutionary memory-altering procedure will straighten him out, even if it means forgetting who he truly is.

Melissa, Alex Gino: When people look at Melissa, they think they see a boy named George. But she knows she's not a boy. She knows she's a girl.

Melissa thinks she'll have to keep this a secret forever. Then her teacher announces that their class play is going to be Charlotte's Web. Melissa really, really, REALLY wants to play Charlotte. But the teacher says she can't even try out for the part... because she's a boy.

With the help of her best friend, Kelly, Melissa comes up with a plan. Not just so she can be Charlotte -- but so everyone can know who she is, once and for all.

A Quick & Easy Guide to Queer & Trans Identities, Mady G, Jules Zuckerberg: In this quick and easy guide to queer and trans identities, cartoonists Mady G and Jules Zuckerberg guide you through the basics of the LGBT+ world! Covering essential topics like sexuality, gender identity, coming out, and navigating relationships, this guide explains the spectrum of human experience through informative comics, interviews, worksheets, and imaginative examples. A great starting point for anyone curious about queer and trans life, and helpful for those already on their own journeys!

This Book Is Gay, Juno Dawson: This candid, funny, and uncensored exploration of sexuality and what it's like to grow up LGBTQ also includes real stories from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, not to mention hilarious illustrations.

Little & Lion, Brandy Colbert: When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she's isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (as well as her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse.

King and the Dragonflies, Kacen Callender: Twelve-year-old Kingston James is sure his brother Khalid has turned into a dragonfly. When Khalid unexpectedly passed away, he shed what was his first skin for another to live down by the bayou in their small Louisiana town. Khalid still visits in dreams, and King must keep these secrets to himself as he watches grief transform his family.

It would be easier if King could talk with his best friend, Sandy Sanders. But just days before he died, Khalid told King to end their friendship, after overhearing a secret about Sandy-that he thinks he might be gay. "You don't want anyone to think you're gay too, do you?"

Sorted: Growing Up, Coming Out, and Finding My Place: A Transgender Memoir, Jackson Bird: An unflinching and endearing memoir from LGBTQ+ advocate Jackson Bird about how he finally sorted things out and came out as a transgender man.When Jackson Bird was twenty-five, he came out as transgender to his friends, family, and anyone in the world with an internet connection. Assigned female at birth and raised as a girl, he often wondered if he should have been born a boy. Jackson didn't share this thought with anyone because he didn't think he could share it with anyone.

The Black Flamingo, Dean Atta: Michael is a mixed-race gay teen growing up in London. All his life, he's navigated what it means to be Greek-Cypriot and Jamaican--but never quite feeling Greek or Black enough.

As he gets older, Michael's coming out is only the start of learning who he is and where he fits in. When he discovers the Drag Society, he finally finds where he belongs--and the Black Flamingo is born

Explore the full list here.

[honestsycrets]

Amor y Respeto I: Mi Alma || [Miguel O’Hara x Latina!Reader]

Chapter II: Corazón

❛ pairing | Miguel O’Hara x FB!Reader, platonic Hobie x Reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | the moment you want a sign of love from Miguel is the moment that your relationship is fucked. 

❛ tags | fuckbuddies, a very latinx piece, jealousy, jealous Miguel O’Hara, a sparse hobie appearance, spidey!reader, latina!reader, no translations of the spanish included, gif credit to the original owner, nsfw, female reader, some mention of blood and wounds, some creative liberties, slight spoilers.

❛ sy’s notes | not my usual fanfare and i’m a little rusty but miguel hit me straight in my heart. i consciously omitted spanish translations in this work. consistent pet names include mi alma (my soul) & muñeca (doll). this is not my usual fandom and i may have missed some fandom nuances, so i apologize in advance for creative liberties. lastly, emotions impact the reader’s healing capabilities, hope that's clear enough. thank you @lisinfleur​ and @ivarsrideordie​ for your help. i’ll be dropping an ivar fic soon, see you then!

In your cultura, disrespect was unacceptable. 

You knew it. Your lover knew you knew it: but for you, there was something greater than respect. Amor. If he knew that you knew about her little escapade, oh, it would be unforgivable. It undercut the very foundation of what he did at HQ. But even between lovers, where the time you spent was fleeting and unstable, there were things you could not share. Besides... how would he know? 

The day had been long. Your body ached with the dizzying speed of patrols past the vine-covered high-rise apartments of your beautiful city. Your room was stuffy with the tropical air struggling against humidity. With dried blood on your skin, the perfect remedy was a shower. Its warmth soothed your aching muscles after a long day. You found your mind wandering to problems that didn’t immediately demand a solution. How you’d avoid cotton mouth the next time you saw him. Sooner than you thought.

The shower door whizzed aside, plumes of steam fading into the cool air. “Shit!” you shouted, reaching to cover your body. Miguel bent his head as he stepped into your cramped shower and cupped the frame. He shut the shower door. Did he already know? You nipped your lower lip raw and the taste of blood turned your tastebuds. Somehow, you knew that he hadn’t slipped off from HQ just to have you. Not tonight. He had that glazed-over look in his sharp eyes, considering you the same way he might consider anyone else. 

 “Miguel?” you fluttered your lashes at him which winked off plump droplets of water. “Mi alma, que paso?” 

“Did you know?” 

You reached out to turn the knob of the water off. It creaked to a stop. Despite tracing the droplets that coasted down your curves, he watched you with otherwise uninterested eyes. When you failed to respond, he stomped closer, kicking up the water that swirled under your bare feet.

“Did you know?” His fist pounded the side of the shower wall. Your heart leapt into your chest where it fluttered painfully, encased in your chest. Miguel bared his angular teeth at you. Teeth that usually marred your neck with possessive bites, loving kisses, and teasing scrapes. He never bared them at you like this. It was always a possibility, never the reality.

You met his eyes. The certainty you had moments earlier that oh, he wouldn’t find out, was gone. Of course, he found out. Your Miguel always found out. With that dead, blank expression, you knew the gravity of your situation. 

“Of course, I knew.” His chest swelled with forceful inhalation of air as you spoke. “But Gwen… I, they’re only kids. Kids who--” 

“Kids? They are not just kids. Coño, I’d expect this of them,” he prompted your name and took a step forward. You took one back. Then another, knocking your back into the shower walls. You were like a small bird in an even smaller cage. Nowhere to run and still, he wasn’t about to give you the luxury of personal space. You were pinned between his firm chest and the two stony walls against your back. His voice lowered dangerously low, barely a murmur against the shell of your ear. “But you? You know what’s at risk.” 

“They love--” 

“Y que?” he snapped your name out again. “Tell me, when those kids destroy thousands of lives, what does that change? Have you ever stopped to think of that? Of the lives this will ruin?” 

“I just... wanted them happy. If even for an instant.” You hung your head. He set his clawed hand to the side of your head, combing through the stringy strands of your hair down with a false care that you wanted to believe in. But it was entangled in the strings of his manipulation. “Of course, you have, muñequita.” 

“Then can’t they--” His hand balled up into a fist and careened with the wall behind you. Your head snapped away as his claws unfurled and released crumbling bits of the wall by your naked toes. You’d have to clean that up-- later. You took a deep breath and exhaled the frustration that packed away in your belly. “Sabes qué? I am sorry that love isn’t enough for you, I am sorry that I have never been enough for you.” 

“No. No puedo con esto,” he looked down at you. As he leaned in, his forearm above your head supported his body weight. “Muñeca, por favor. This isn’t about us.” 

“Why can’t it be?” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I just want to be with you, but you won’t let me in,” you reached out. The soft pads of your fingertips hovered by his sharp jawline eased past his ear and into his ruffled hair. For a second, brief as it were, his eyes softened. He leaned into the touch. You had your window. “Why won’t you let me in?”

Whether or not he was past the anger, the disrespect, his thick arms wound around the small of your waist. In some bid to bring you back to your senses-- to him, he set his forehead against your own, dwelling in the soft scent of your floral soap that filled his nose. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a kiss. His body became as sturdy: unmoving and guarded. 

“I can’t give you what you need.” He reached back to remove your hands from his hair and with care settled them back on your moist chest. As he made his way out of your bathroom, his warning echoed through your mind. “Stay out of my way.”

Miguel’s love was unstable. Affection, not love. If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that you always knew it was bound to fail. You were lucky for what time you had with him. It made subsequent missions all the harder, wrapped up in this innate desire to be loved by a man who allowed himself to be loved by none. Without his affection, HQ felt barren. Its many corridors held no life, no love, and no prospect of a better future. Yet, for Miguel, there you were. Your ballet flats tapped furiously alongside the ringing stomps of your partner’s steel-toed boots.

“Ay bendito, this isn’t healing,” you dabbed your fingers in the blood at your shoulder, storming past a sea of red and blue that parted for the pair of you. Your neck was oozing-- well, not oozing so much as soaking your outfit. The mission could have gone better. Sometimes your mind wandered at the worst of times. It didn’t matter, not now. It was done, he would be happy, and it would be enough for today. All that you did you did for him-- and he knew it.

“Your man won’t be happy about that,” Hobie cut through the crowd while walking backward. He made it look so easy. Conviction, you guessed, made life much easier. 

“No,” you took the end of your silky rebozo and held it to your shoulder. “He only cares about results. We have good results. What does he have to be angry about? He has everything he wants.” 

“Hm.” Hobie hummed, span around, and leaned over your shoulder. He was on your tail with his aggravatingly long legs no matter how quickly you walked.

“Hobie, por dios.” 

“He broke up with you, didn’e?” 

You didn’t have to answer him. You didn’t even need to talk to him. You could just keep walking and leave it to his imagination. Yet, your face faltered. The perceptive man he was, Hobie twisted in front of your path. He leaned his hips back and sank his face inches apart from yours. Hobie quirked a smile in his lazy eyes and an adorable lip pout. Your eye centered on his piercing to avert your focus from his words. 

“Yeah,” he answered his own question. “Bet he did.” 

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” you swerved around him.

“Maybe.” Hobie shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and sped after you. “But I’m with you.” 

“How sweet.” 

You knew your Miguel would be there: on that stupid platform, staring at multiple screens, at a lost life, departed from his reality in any other capacity but maintaining the happiness of others. Well, others that weren’t like you. You found him in that very same position when you pressed into his lab. 

“What is it now?” 

“We’ve taken care of it-- Hobie and I.”  

“Good,” came his dry response. “Is that all?”

“Not in the mood to talk to your girl, eh?” Hobie clicked, throwing his arm over your shoulder: not out of care, or friendship, but spite. No matter the institution, Hobie always seemed to harbor harsh feelings for those in charge. If it meant pissing him off a little, rattling up the flow of HQ, Hobie was always an eager volunteer. Hobie turned his lips to your ear and prompted your name, “C’mon, leave him. Let's go get a drinky drink.” 

You bit out a cry at the pressure on your neck, the damn thing wasn’t healing nearly as fast as it needed to be. You blamed the bundles of anxiety that rattled up emotions low in your belly. It was still open, soaking Hobie too. He didn’t mind a little blood on his shorn uniform. Good for the image, and all that.

“That hurt, Hobie!” 

Miguel threw a glance over his shoulder. Just a moment, but enough to spot something else that agitated him. Your normally white outfit, fluttery and light, splattered with the blood that painted your red rebozo a little redder. Or maybe it was Hobie’s lips on your ear, making remarks about beer-- or whiskey-- or-- Molotov--

“Get off,” Miguel pounced down from his kingly stoop and flicked Hobie’s wrist. He snaked his wrist away, shoving his palms back into his pants. You threw him a look knowing that it was not because Miguel told him to but because he felt like it. The devil’s advocate that he was. Miguel unraveled the rebozo from your neck. His hand grasped your chin and angled it one way, then the other, rumbling in clear agitation “You’re wounded.” 

“Déjame quieta. Don’t touch me.” 

“And you?” Miguel rocked back on his heels, setting his well-corded arms on his hips. Then, he angled his body toward Hobie. “Where were you?” 

Hobie lifted his pierced eyebrow. “He serious?” 

“I can handle myself.” 

“Can you? And you-- why are you still here?” Though Miguel asked the question, it was a statement. Hobie held his palms up, fluttering his fingers in mockery. You watched Miguel run his fingers down the bloody rebozo, counting its bloodied inches.  

“Vente conmigo.” He leaned into your ear. The trill of his voice danced down your spine, low and husky. Your mind wandered to the many nights he whispered just the same in your ear. You suppressed the shiver, your heartbeat trembling so violently you were sure you could hear its pathetic thumping, nearly a cry. It hadn’t been long but... you missed this.

“You told me to stay out of your way. I am staying out of your way. Give me--”

“I won’t ask again. Either you come or I’ll make you.” That was it then. A flash of disbelief snapped across your face. The gall of this man. Even though he told you to stay out of the way, he demanded that you leave the lab with him? You caught Hobie perking up to look your way with shiny curious eyes. He pointed to his chest and then yours, suggesting… something you’d ignore. Hobie slipped out a smug hum.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Hobie.”

There were no good alternatives. You knew he would make good on his threat. Not that you particularly would want to fight him anyway. Whether it was respect or obligation, you ran after your Miguel, who already walked away. You snatched the rebozo from his waiting hand, suspended in the air.

Yes, your life was a delicate balance between love and respect. You weren’t sure which of those guided you back to Miguel’s dimly lit room. Only that as you sat on his bed, your once-was lover was behind you. His fingers worked swiftly on your neck, furiously tugging at your sore neck with what felt like a needle. No point complaining. It would eventually end. You could go find the boys. They could rail you about your dating choices as they always did. 

“Lyla will find you another backup partner,” he broke the silence. You rathered he didn’t operate in this limbo of false intimacy. Your lips parted into a sigh rife with agitation. The drawback of fucking your boss was this, you supposed. He controlled your life.

“No, she won’t. I like working with Hobie. I want him.” 

Miguel paused short of dipping the needle back into your skin. “What do you mean-- you want him?” 

“What does it sound like? I like working with Hobie. I trust Hobie. So I want Hobie by my side.” You slapped your lacey thighs and turned to gaze into those familiar eyes. “Así que, no, I do not need another backup. I don’t need you controlling every inch of my work life. I need you to hurry up.” 

“Muñeca. If you’re emotional, you’ll heal slower.” 

“Do not call me that,” you jumped from his lush bed. Your neck squealed for you to stop and let him fix what was clearly broken with the slack thread that connected your body to his. Oh, and what a metaphor it felt like. Your life was sewn together by a man who held all the strings in his hands. “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore. You made it clear how little you feel about me-- and my feelings.” 

He lifted his eyes to yours. A long, slow look. The sort of look that made you question it all. As if the things you said weren’t really from your lips, no matter how sure you were of them.  You broke the exchange first and grasped the long strand embedded deep in your neck. 

“Your feelings,” he held out his hand and tugged the line, “tend to get in the way of what needs to be done.” 

Startled, you looked down at his open palm. You slipped your smaller fingers into the middle of his palm and sat back on the bed. He slid behind you, pressing his core against your backside-- because that was completely necessary. With soft care, he shifted your hair over the opposing shoulder and continued his work. 

“Apart from that, you shouldn’t have gone on that mission. You were distracted. If you weren’t so emotional,” Miguel murmured. “We wouldn’t be here.”

If you weren’t emotional? You screwed your eyebrows together in a pathetic attempt to ignore what he just said. To ignore the way that he demeaned the fuel of your abilities, what guided you through this traumatic thing called life. Meanwhile, Miguel functioned on minimal emotion-- the suppression of what he’d lost by protecting what he was. 

“It’s your fault I was distracted in the first place.” 

“You should be able to control your own feelings.”

“Fine. Apúrate. I’ll get out of your way.” 

Miguel snapped the healing aid thread and ran his clawed fingertips across the long streaks on your neck and shoulder. It was mere moments that he lingered there circling your neck. As your breathing evened out, you felt your body pull together fibrous strands of tissue and heal. Yet, you couldn’t care. 

“Done.” Miguel refused to address your gaze but opted to draw your top back into place to over your breasts. You stood and secured the buttons of your halter top behind your neck. That was it. You’d return to your duties, healed half by your emotions and half by Miguel. You would need to learn to ignore the love you had for him. One day, all this would be well. Miguel rolled up the excess thread around his reel.

Fine. If he was going to ignore you--

“Do you think,” you paused long enough to debate your words. Enough for Miguel to glance up with his stoic red eyes and lift an eyebrow at you. It irritated you how unemotional and consistently unbothered he could be when you stood there just the opposite. Always desperate for a sign of his feelings. “Hobie wants to fuck?” 

There were some lines you should never cross. While you would never actually fuck your partner, the mere mention of the thought ever crossing your mind was one step too far. It was terribly disrespectful. Miguel’s reel plopped onto the floor and rolled short of your feet.

You slid your palms over your hips before hooking at the bend in your waist. His gaze focused on the glide of your hands trailing slowly down your sides. Sides that he often snatched in the dead of night after a warm shower. Or that he’d cling to during lovemaking. Your following words caused him to lurch off the bed. “Qué piensas? He might still be in HQ, no?” 

“What,” His hand fit along your neck like a tight collar. The next moment, pain radiated from your skull and blurred your vision. The pain licked flames of excitement to life in your belly. A gasp slipped from your lips. Instead of shock, your cry was tinged with delight. With his wild brown hair slumping forward over his scarlet eyes, he was more beautiful than ever. His claws squeezed your neck, jerking and slamming your head once more. His breath tickled your cheek. “What did you say?” 

Of course, he couldn’t help himself: the control freak. He was a genius. You knew he knew it was bait. He had to. But your looming threat was enough for him to take the risk. Your lips curled, laughing your words rather flippantly. “I said-- do you think Hobie wants to fuck?”

You eviscerated his already thin patience. The searing pain of his fangs piercing your battered neck seared all thoughts of Hobie from your mind. Your hands choked out a pitiful cry. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel-- calma.”

The familiar burn of his frantic biting, his violent ownership of your body, made your body slick. He lifted your hips onto his, legs dangling over his slim thighs. Crunched up against his massive body, you felt small but as if you were the focus of his world. Just how you loved to feel when you were encased in his arms.

“You think he could fuck you like I can?” His gravelly voice rumbled. His face pinched tight, daring your response. “That you can replace me— so easily?”

No, the answer was a resounding no. But he didn’t need to know that. If Miguel thought he could play games with you, you’d play games with him. The last forty-eight hours had been a blur of his rejection. It was only fair that Miguel felt the same.

Blood seeped down from your neck, a feeling you were accustomed to today. On the other hand, you weren’t accustomed to how he tore into your uniform as if it were as offensive as your harsh words. You calmly noted that you were glad to have multiple: a consequence of doing this work too long. 

That was it. You slid your hands up his forearms, around his firm biceps, to his broad shoulders. There you rested your arms, knocking your foreheads gently together. Past the rage, you recognized the slightest hint of fear in his eyes. The promise that you were lying. For security under another name. You refused to give it to him: he never gave it to you.

“He is Spiderman, isn’t he?” 

He shifted the pad of his finger between your lips. Your tongue slid over his thumb, crooked in your mouth to suppress any more words that he may regret hearing or that you may regret saying. 

“He may be,” Miguel rasped. His lips quirked into a wicked grin. With Miguel’s sudden sharpness, you weren’t expecting to see his smile. You welcomed it, a rare delight that you found yourself loathing the more he spoke. “But you’re mine.” 

His. The inklings of fear you previously spotted in the depth of Miguel’s eyes seemed to weaken, sliding his thumb from your lips, rolling past your nipple, and the muscles of your stomach. He slid past your vulva, trailing with expert care along your slit. It was barely a touch if even a graze. Words failed to form. They were a thick bolus in your throat, congealed and thick.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I thought so.” 

Your eyes trailed Miguel’s strong jawline and ambled up toward his lips. Your gaze lingered there as his fingers slipped between your lips, finding your cunt soft and wet. His eyes flickered toward your shy gaze and danced his lips against yours by virtue of his words. “It doesn’t seem like you’re that interested in finding him.”

“How would you know?” you cried out when one of his clawed fingers dipped inside your body. Your hips jerked onto his hand to seek out more of him. Your traitorous, awful body. It wasn’t comfortable when he scratched you while stroking your velvety inner walls. But you always needed more of his touch.

“Oh,” Miguel hummed. He bent close-- your eyes now focused on his high cheekbones. You couldn’t look him in the eyes and know that he knew how weak you were for him. “I know. It’s the way you look at me.” 

“As if--” You dropped your eyes, reveling in the pressure of his prodding fingers, the delight in having him here, with you, once again. It shouldn’t have felt as intimate, as comforting as it did, but it did. His fingers withdrew, pleased with his work. “You know I can give you what you need.” 

“You said you couldn’t,” Miguel slipped his fingers into your mouth: sweet and sour with your own excitement and the scratches of blood. His hands worked at the waist as you secured yourself on the wall with your hands, knowing what was next-- and expecting it. 

“I lied.” he drawled out, a long hum. He spat on his hand and rubbed himself as you watched, anticipating the soft prod of his cock’s head at your entrance. It hadn’t been long. Yet, as he buried himself in the warmth of your body, you inhaled a wealth of air into your chest, exhaling it in soft shudders. Perhaps it was the fear of never having this again. 

His large hands shifted underneath your ass and pinned you square against the wall. His claws drew blood to the surface of superficial cuts. Your hands snapped to his shoulders and clung onto him for some security. You found no rest between the wall chafing your back and Miguel’s long, pointed strokes into your body. Your body burned with the pull of his dick dragging in and out of your cunt, fighting to keep him inside with every squeeze and pull. He wasn’t lying, you knew. But it didn’t matter. Not when you were his complete and utter focus. 

Miguel let a word of praise slip free as he ground into you. With a wall of muscle before you and the sturdy wall behind, breathing was slight and hard to come by. It had to be what he wanted-- to make you focus on him and him alone. It’s what you deserved after antagonizing the man. Your hands found his hair, knotting your fingers in it, and accepting the ferocity of his deep, then shallow strokes into your core. Your eyes flitted shut as he bottomed out, grinding his hips in tight circles. As you came, your body furiously clenched onto his cock, slowing his sweeping thrusts. 

You craved it: the moment of Miguel’s weakness. Your body urged out his orgasm with a noise tempered by pleasure and annoyance. Your cunt milking earned you a particularly firm slam of his hips. Miguel would drag you down to take it all. He spilled into you with a deliciously unique warmth, grinding his hips until spent. His forehead rested on the crook of your neck. In place of another hard bite, he gently kissed your collarbone and throat. After he finished, he settled you down onto the floor. But your legs were sloppy, weak shaky things. Miguel snatched your hand as you swayed to keep yourself upright. 

“I have to go,” you held his hand begrudgingly for support. Then bent down to pick up strips of your clothes. Yet another victim of your relationship with him. You would have to... mend this. Somehow. Probably not. “They’re expecting me--” 

“Muñeca,”

“Cálmate, Miguel. You know I’m not going to fuck him,” you swiped the coursing fluids down your thigh. You dragged your hand down Miguel’s firm chest and danced your finger up his chest to flip up his chin. He glanced down, puffing air from his nostrils in protest. His eyes rolled, oh so slightly. “He’s not my type. I like them big, mm?”

“You would if he was?” he bristled.

“I never said that.” You said. Despite this fact, certain needs needed to be met. Ones that if he didn’t fill, someone else would. You both knew this. Your work was long and stressful and done in the name of the man who was before you. If for nothing but that love, you knew you would keep going. You believed in Miguel: his choices and his heart. 

“You didn’t need to.” 

“Mi alma--” you stopped, waving your hand at his pet name. “All this is fleeting. I need someone that will meet my needs. To tell me they love me. Can you?” 

He pressed his lips together and stewed on your request. You knew without a question in your mind what that answer was. In the aftermath of sex with Miguel, he was closer to you than ever. And yet, it was impossible to convince him of an actual connection. For him, it was easier to leave you than love you. 

He didn’t need to say it.  

“I know you, Miguel. You didn’t lie. It was the truth,” you slipped your hand from his. Instead, you opted to set a fleeting kiss on the side of his lip. For better or worse, he didn’t reciprocate. Your steps carried you backward. Then, you afforded him a small deprecating smile. “Other than sex, you can’t give me what I need.”

[harveyguillensource]

Harvey's photoshoot with Mike Ruiz for Photobook Magazine has been published, along with a short interview covering his career and ambitions! Read a few of his responses below:

You have become somewhat of a trailblazer for what is possible for queer, Latinx actors. Who are your biggest role models and inspirations when it comes to performing? My on-screen role models were pretty limited. I found inspiration in watching Cantinflas, a Latino comedian, with my dad. Watching people like Salma Hayek and Antonio Banderas represent Latinos on the big screen helped keep me hopeful. I’m happy to report that I’ve worked with both of them. From “What We Do in the Shadows,” to “The Magicians,” there is a slight recurring theme of supernatural or fantasy. What draws you to these types of projects and roles? In both 'The Magicians' and 'Shadows,' anything is possible. I love the idea that there are no limitations on where our characters can go, so I’ve always been drawn to that. I was never specifically seeking to be in these particular genres, but I’m so happy to be a part of them. In addition to on the screen, you have an extensive portfolio of voice acting credits. How does working behind a microphone compare to working on the camera? Doing voice-over has been such a wonderful experience. I didn’t really start doing V.O. work until the pandemic. It’s a tough door to get through. The pandemic brought these opportunities to me. It was the only work that I was able to do safely at the time. Since then, my portfolio has doubled in voice-over work. All the characters I get to play are so different from each other. I get so excited when people come up to me and mention they're fans of a character I voice. Either voice acting, on camera, or on the stage, are there any dream roles you would love to play? As a musical theatre kid, I’d obviously love to do Broadway. I’d also really love to host SNL one day. In addition to acting, you're also involved in advocacy work, particularly in the LGBTQ+ field. What inspires you to use your voice and platform for good? I try to use my platform to help anyone that I can, especially those in the LGBTQ+ and Latino community. For so long, I didn’t see anyone advocating for someone like me so I do the best I can to amplify their voices while bringing awareness to those communities. With “What We Do in the Shadows” heading into its sixth and final season, what’s next for you? Anything fans should look forward to? We’re about to wrap in two weeks from the time this interview is published. That being said, it’s bittersweet. We recently said goodbye to our exterior set, and it was really emotional. I committed to this character for half a decade, which is no small task. It’s become such a big part of my life, and I’m thankful for all the lives we’ve touched through comedy. Season 6 will air later this year. I’ll have projects like “Companion” and “Garfield” out this year as well as a couple others. I’m excited to see what’s next!

[certainlynotasimp]

HIIIII! Okay so this idea has been living rent free in my head. But what if Miguel was away on a mission, and Sunny saw it as an opportunity to go ahead and jam out with headphones/earbuds/AirPods. Sunny’s a pretty good singer she just.. doesn’t like bringing it to people’s attention much. And I recommend listening to Can’t Tame Her by Zara Larsson. Sunny’s having the time of her life singing and dancing. Miguel gets back, and Sunny’s still jamming out until she eventually turns around and practically screams seeing him just standing there and all embarrassed 😂 what happens after that is completely up to you.

Dance With Me

(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: I'm BACK!! lol. I'm so sorry for the long wait on your request and I absolutely love this song!! Such a bop. I honestly changed some details of your request and I added some details that my lovely Latinx spiderlings mentioned.

A/N: If you guys wanna read some more of my stuff, check out my master list. I have closed the tag list, but if you guys want live updates, a meeting place for simps, and maybe get your ideas added to fics, then come join the discord!

WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/ Female Pronouns, Pregnancy, Fluff, Embarrassing situation, and Deepl Translated Spanish ((Y'all let me know if the translations are better with this new site some of y'all recommended.))

~~~~~~~~~

“¿Segura que vas a estar bien sola, mami?” Are you sure you're going to be alright on your own, mami? Miguel mumbles as he looks at his love standing by the oven. His eyes cautiously watch her hips sway softly as she hums softly to herself and makes her French toast. Her swollen stomach makes her movements seem more imbalanced.

“I’m sure, Miggy.” The heavily pregnant woman reassures her love. The woman turned back to her worried lover as he stood by the door in his blue spider suit.

Hitting the third trimester of pregnancy has led to Miguel becoming more of a protective force than he was before. He already had to fight his stubborn little sunshine to be benched during the first two months of her pregnancy, which resulted in the compromise of her moving into this apartment to appease both of them. Now in the sixth month of bringing this new little life into the world, the man had to basically be pried away from his apartment in order for him to go on missions outside of his dimension.

For example, if there wasn’t another Spot on the loose again, Miguel would be content with staying home with his girls and gorging on the trashy romantic comedies that she kept playing on repeat. Of course, he would never voice his disdain for the films. Not when he gets to see her eyes light up in delight as her voice floods the apartment in laughter.

“You really don’t need to worry about us, mi amor.” She calmly assures him as she wraps her arms around him. Her bump made it difficult for her to embrace him, but the little flutter of feet against his abdomen made up for it. “We always know that Papi will always keep us safe.” She mutters as her bright smile cuts through Miguel’s heart.

Cupping her face, Miguel whispers softly, “¿Qué hice para merecerte?” What did I do to deserve you? He presses gently kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and lips as she giggles at the feathery light affection. Miguel knees down and pressed a firm kiss on her bump while whispering, “Pórtate bien, Estrellita. No quiero que le causes muchos problemas a tu mami mientras no estoy.” Be good, little star. I don't want you to cause your mommy too much trouble while I'm gone.

A strong kick meets Miguel’s lips unexpectedly as he chuckles at Maria’s attempt to tell her father to get on the road. 

Standing up, He gives his love another kiss before heading out. As he swings away, the pregnant woman looks down at her bump and mumbles.

“Now that Papa is gone, we can have some fun.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Lyla, si vuelves a mandarme a algún sitio así, te pondré en el monitor de bebés de Mayday.” Lyla, if you ever send me anywhere like that again, I will put you into Mayday's baby monitor. Miguel seethes as he limps out of the portal with the rest of the team.

The mission was a lot more difficult than the team was briefed on. They knew that The Spot was involved, but Lyla didn’t mention Doctor Octavious and a Prowler would be there as well. Miguel had handled the two while the others worked to capture The Spot, but the task wasn’t easy as the large claw marks along his sides and heavy bruising proved. Luckily, they managed to capture the enemies, but everyone receive a significant amount of damage. 

Lyla laughs as she plays with some weird virtual version of a toy Gwen had yesterday. The annoying popping of the rubber bubbles causes Miguel’s already sour mood to worsen as she muses, “ No need to fuss, Miggy. You guys are still alive and ready to kick ass tomorrow.”

“I don’t think being alive is a good thing right now…” Pavitr groans as he plops onto the floor as Hobie grumbles beside him about his destroyed guitar.

Jess rolls her eyes as she plops herself in Miguel’s normal spot by the monitor and throws Miguel a knowing glance.

“Why don’t you head on home, Migue?’ Jess offers which causes him to look at her a little surprised. “You need to be home with Sunny. Believe me, I understand how uncomfortable she is right now.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Miguel argues, “What about your-”

“My husband can handle Little Bit while I finish this report.” Jessica shuts him down as she shoots him a familiar glare he recognizes from his own mother. God, he hopes his sweet sunny doesn’t develop a glare like that. She would have him running for his money.

Miguel silently thanks his friend as he leaves, opting to swing home instead of the portal. Deciding to pick up some takeout from her favorite restaurant on the way.

~~~~~~~~

As Miguel approaches the door to their apartment, the soft buzz of pop music filters through the thick walls of the building. His eyebrow quirks up as he softly opens the door. The young black and white mass of fur greets with silent chirps as Miguel shushes him. He closes the door quietly as he kneels down and scratches behind the cat’s ears. 

“¿Qué hacían nuestras chicas mientras yo no estaba, Moony?” What were our girls doing while I was gone, Moony? He coos as he stands up and places the bags of food on the counter.

Moony runs off as the soft voice he loves fills the apartment. 

“Don't need no one, she can dance on her own

Club is closin', but she ain't goin' home

Night is still young, where the hell will she go?

Nobody knows nobody knows”

The hyper-pop music boomed from the sound system as Miguel rounds the corner and his face splits into a bright grin. His red eyes soften as he watches his pregnant love freely dancing around the living room with a pint of ice cream in her hand. His worn sweater consumes her frame as she twirls and blurts out lyrics.

“Can't tame her magic energy

She's so magnetic, pulls you in every time (every time)

Every time (every time)

But she don't care, she gonna do what she wants (she wants)”

Watching her ridiculously move with a large bump almost made Miguel chuckle, but he didn’t want to disturb her yet. He waits for her to twirl one more time before stalking toward their bedroom. 

She continues her private concert as she shoves a spoonful of ice cream before using it as a microphone. The utter giddy from these past few months filled her being as she sings out.

“And you can't tie her down

When the night comes around (around)

Said she gonna party all night (all night)

And you can't change her

Can't blame her, can't tame her”

A pair of warm arms wrap around her waist as her heart stops in her chest for a moment before a warm purr rumbles in his chest. She relaxes as her purring lover mumbles, “Parece que tuviste un día divertido, mi amor.” You look like you had a fun day, my love.

“I did.” I giggle as she can feel his hips sway to the music with hers, playfully dancing with her. His warm hands gently rub her stomach as their little one happily greets her father with little kicks. “She’s gonna be ready to fight crime by the time she gets out of there.” She jokes through a particularly hard kick. The mother was now sure that Maria is gonna be as strong as Miguel with the bruises she was starting to have.

“Bien. Quiero que aleje a todos esos niñatos de ella hasta que tenga treinta años.” Good. I want her to fight all of those little boys away from her until she's thirty. Miguel grumbles as he thinks about his little girl possibly dating little punks in the future.

“Papi, she’s not even here yet and you’re already so protective.” She giggles as she turns around in his arms. Her eyes light up as she’s met with her grumpy boyfriend’s bare chest and low-hanging joggers, but a pout appears as she sees the large claw marks and bruises running on his sides.

“Por supuesto que sí.” Of course, I am. Miguel smiles mischievously as the music transitions into a familiar upbeat tune that causes his love’s concern to fade to amusement. “Tengo que proteger a mis hijas y mostrarles cómo los hombres de verdad tratan a sus hijas.”  I have to protect my girls and show them how real men treat their girls.

A whirlwind of laughter fills the room as Miguel starts to pull her into the Cumbia. Her moments of imbalance missteps were soothed by his strong hands as he catches her. The couple spend their evening in each other’s arms dancing and loving their growing family.

~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

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[eshtaresht]

If We Live (M, 37k, 7/7 chapters)

this is it!! my penultimate trimax "fix-it" is finished!!! this is how doomed yaoi can become undoomed

the design is by my wonderful beta @milanosbitch!! (psst, she has commisions open!)

Summary:

Just one minor detail could change everything. What if Wolfwood survived and was finally able to share his tomorrows with Vash? But, of course, it took a lot of pain and heartache to get there.

Relationships: Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Characters: Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Livio the Double Fang (Trigun), Razlo the Tri-Punisher of Death (Trigun), Chapel the Evergreen (Trigun), Brad (Trigun), Meryl Stryfe, Milly Thompson, Millions Knives (Trigun), Miss Melanie (Trigun), lots of orphans

Additional tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Major Character Injury, Gun Violence, Major Character Undeath, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Crying, Panic Attacks, Asexual Vash the Stampede (Trigun), it's not the focus but it is there he's so (gray)aroace your honor, Suicidal Thoughts, Dissociation, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Hopeful Ending, it will get better i promise, Trigun Maximum Spoilers, Latinx Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Trans Nicholas D. Wolfwood, I mean vash is too but it's not mentioned, Nicholas D. Wolfwood Lives, internalized ableism, betaed! we live like wolfwood, hints at polygun, Drinking, vash's canon alcoholism is present, Grief/Mourning, loss of speech, Canon Disabled Character, vash and ww both have chronic pain

[avatar-anna]

latina!y/n for Grammy blurb eso bc benito is nominated!!

it always feels weird to mention other celebrities in fics, but i just know y/n would be the life of the party at the grammys. enjoy!

Harry was nervous about this year's Grammys, of course he was.

But trust his fiance to steal the show from him completely.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

You were buzzing in a way you never had before. This year, you got to sit at a table with Harry and his team at the Grammys, but not only that, you had prime seating next to Adele, Lizzo, and Taylor Swift, and Beyonce. You promised yourself you would be on your best behavior, that you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself or Harry. There were going to be cameras everywhere, you didn't need that kind of media attention.

But the second tequila touched your lips and Bad Bunny appeared onstage, it was over.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"Get up and dance with me!"

It was only the first minute of the performance, but Y/n was on her feet and pulling Harry up with her. Both of them knew that Harry was on the shy side, and that he would've been more inclined to dance after a couple of drinks, so Y/n wouldn't have minded if he stayed sitting down. But to her surprise, he stood up.

She jumped up and down and squealed, and Harry could only smile at her in return as she began to dance to the opening performance. He swayed a little and clapped along, keeping his eyes on Y/n the whole time.

She was just so happy, like this music lived in her soul. Harry knew Y/n loved his music, but he also understood the pride his love was feeling as she listened to the music she grew up hearing in her native tongue. And honestly, it was quite magical to watch. And infectious too. So much so that she garnered the attention of some of the backup dancers that were moving through the crowd. They took over for Harry, who had been holding Y/n's hands and spinning her around every now and again.

Harry could hardly contain his smile as he admired Y/n. She was stunning in her red gown, even more so as she moved in perfect time with the music. This night was about him, and nerves had gripped him all day, but none of that mattered to him at that moment, not when her smile was so big it lit her from within.

From that moment on, there was hardly a moment when Y/n was sitting down. If someone was performing, she was up and dancing alongside Lizzo or Taylor, who were more than happy to match her energy.

Harry didn't mind that when people stopped by his table, they ended up having a conversation and sharing a drink with Y/n. In fact, he was happy to see his love so outgoing in public when she was usually so shy around such well-known faces.

Just a few months ago she was practically hiding behind his arm as he introduced her to Chris Pine, and now she was dancing with Doja Cat as Queen Latifah and Missy Elliott performed. Y/n had become the life of the party, yet few people knew who she was.

"She's absolutely lovely."

"She's a doll, Harry."

"I just ran into the nicest young woman, and she said she was with you!"

"Promise me you're coming to the after party."

Compliment after compliment after compliment, and Harry fielded each one proudly. So often Y/n got insecure about what the public thought of her, but she had completely enchanted every single person in the room tonight. It was better than any award Harry was up for tonight.

And then, of course, was the moment when Bad Bunny actually came over to their table at the commercial break, which of course was when Y/n went quiet. Harry shot her an amused look when she gripped his hand tightly and let him lead the conversation, especially when she was the one who spoke Spanish.

"And I saw you from the stage. I should've hired you to be one of my dancers," he said.

Y/n blushed and gripped Harry's hand even harder. "I...I'm just a huge fan. Of—Of your music, and what you've done for the Latinx community...I—"

She gushed to her favorite artist in a rush of Spanish that Harry managed to follow, that same beautiful smile on her face. Not an ounce of jealousy coursed through him, even as Bad Bunny smiled at his love in return. She was still holding his hand, and he knew what it was like to be moved by music, to get to express admiration for someone he'd been a fan of for a long time.

When Bad Bunny eventually left, Y/n loosed out a long breath. Harry leaned over and kissed her temple. "You did great, lovie."

"I think I just blacked out," she admitted, eyes wide with disbelief.

Harry grinned and kissed her again, pulling her chair closer to his. "I'll tell you all about it at the next commercial break.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

It was the end of the night, the last award was about to be called. Once again, your hand was in Harry's, only this time he was gripping yours just as hard as you held his. His breaths were shaky as he waited for the winner to be announced. Harry was as humble as they came, and you knew he would be proud of whoever won the award, but you also knew how much pressure he put on himself. He wanted this, badly, and you wanted it for him.

Muttering prayer after prayer under your breath, you watched the stage, hardly blinking the entire time. When Trevor Noah looked down at the card, then walked over to the line of fans behind him, toward one in particular, you knew.

"Bubba, it's you. You—"

"H—Harry—Harry Styles."

The room erupted, but Harry curled in on himself, hiding his face in his hands. You were there in a heartbeat, resting a hand on his back and whispering softly in his ear. "You did it, bubba. I'm so proud of you. I love you. Now get up there. You deserve it."

Harry finally emerged, and you could tell he was close to crying. You hugged and kissed him briefly, then stepped out of the way to let Kid and Tyler embrace him. Lizzo was screaming and jumping beside you, turning her phone toward you to capture your reaction.

As Harry walked up to the stage and headed straight to the older woman who was his "biggest fan," you immediately had a thought. "Anne. Anne should be here."

You grabbed Harry's phone because it was closest to you and unlocked it, pulling up his mother's contact. The first ring barely went through before the FaceTime call connected. Harry's family was all together to celebrate, but you quickly hushed them as you turned the camera toward the stage.

The moment Harry began talking, you teared up. Harry was so sweet and so clearly awestruck that he couldn't find the words to properly express himself. But he deserved this, more than he thought he did. Harry worked so hard, created something so honest and endearing that you had no doubts that he would win (would you have minded if Beyonce or Bad Bunny won? No, but this was well deserved).

"And, uh, to my best friend, the love of my life, I love you. Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world and allowing me to create music that reflects that. This is for you."

"If you don't go meet your man backstage right now," Lizzo muttered to you, to which Anne muttered her approval from Harry's phone.

Laughing, you quickly dabbed your tears away and rushed off to where you saw Harry disappear moments ago.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Harry was shaking hands and receiving claps on the back from people backstage. He was smiling, but in a dumbstruck kind of way. He still couldn't quite believe he'd won the award for Album of the Year.

He'd stopped to talk to someone as he handed the Grammy back to a crew member (the real one with his name on it would come in a few days) when Kid tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. Kid nodded down the hall, and Harry followed his friend's gaze to where a woman in red was standing, her hands clasped together and searching. Searching for him.

Harry went over to her immediately, collapsing in her arms. Y/n held onto him fiercely, one hand cupping the back of his head while the other rubbed up and down his back. The force of everything that just happened crashed into him, and almost as if she knew, his love held him that much tighter, kissing the top of his head over and over again.

"I think I just blacked out up there," he said against her, not quite ready to face the rest of the world just yet.

Y/n tipped his head up and kissed him hard and quick. There was a look in her eye that had Harry blushing; it was the look she gave him whenever she wanted to pull him into the closest room with a lock and be alone for a while. But all she did was rub her thumb against his cheekbone affectionately. "I'll tell you all about it later."

[spiderpussinc]

are the 2099 comics THAT bad in terms of racism plus other weird writing choices??? i'm starved for miguel content and would like to read the original comic run but i keep seeing the debate of the original comics being problematic and/or downright just BAD bad (not to mention miguel is supposed to have mexican heritage but he's straight up a white redhead lol)

Some people may disagree but speaking as a latinx writer; it's bad because it is racist, yes! On multiple fronts!! And beyond that, it's also bad as a complete failure of comics structure and compelling narrative.

Longpost, on readmore;

I say this as a long-time capeshit reader, as politely as possible: Miguel's comics are a *paycheck* book. As in; a series a writer does monthly to be paid for it, but with middling aspirations and downright negative characterization depending on where their mood is.

The first few issues of his 1992 run are relatively complete and well-balanced, may even trick you into thinking this story is going somewhere; but that's only because they're the /character pitch./ Ill skip to the end and tell you upfront. That 1992 series ends with the implosion of the whole "2099" line of comics (an universe that included other books, like ghost rider, doom, etc, by other writers) due to dwindling public interest and mass cancellations. The end of that run is basically meaningless, since the whole thing got retconned - and even before that a guest writer had came in and made mistaken character reveals pdavid wasnt happy with and wanted to erase before the finale. The event book that wrapped up that universe was unironically, literally called -- "2099: Manifest Destiny."

Now, I don't like Peter David's writing. I think he's obsessed with the idea of building harems out of his female characters (when he's not fridging them, or making them act ~crazy~ to further alienate them from the protagonist) and it is the kind of grueling, joyless reading experience I can only describe as making you feel Oily Inside. This goes as far as multiple stalking plotlines, the inclusion of a guest appearance from AU s/x slaver Hulk in later years, Miguel's mother being strongly implied to have been forced into conceiving him by his real dad who's the evil CEO of alchemax, general torture painporn. His broader supporting cast is so interchangeable and disposable that they were literally disposed of.

In terms of the racism; I have mentioned how he uses cultures as tokens and does 0 research whatsoever. The way it feels and the way it is deployed is through a lens of Exoticism - tourism. Miguels suit is allegedly "a dia de los muertos costume" b/c pdavid seems to think that holiday is mexican halloween. In the orig book, you'll see plenty of broken japanese and stereotypical orientalist caricatures - after killing his first love interest, pdavid introduces a japanese girl who is unironically, literally named "Xina" (that pretends to be chinese on occasion) to fill in the vacant role. Miguel himself falls right into all the usual latino stereotypes — short tempered, drug addict, sex magnet "latin lover" (this last one also applied to his brother Gabriel, who for the longest time is characterized by just Going Through A Lot Of Girlfriends). And it's kind of insane bc he's still being drawn as a deeply deeply white man, but not even that takes off the burden of the racial microagressions!!! They're the only times pdavid seems to remember that heritage! Then there's the commemorative hanging page. Since you mention the redheadedness; thats another insane thing to me. He has 0% of irish in him. His dad is Blond. Who is this man?

Most of the info in the 2099 run is either revealed to be a lie midway thru (miguel is not mr o'hara's son, nor addicted to rapture) or completely retconned away to be rewritten in new runs. Different writers have tried to come in and do miguel in other team/event books but frankly nothing stands out and most of them get marked as alternate-miguels. Unfortunately, every time marvel decided to give another shot at spider-man 2099 they also brought pdavid back. The newer books were never a success, and theyre just as filled w/ the garbage i mentioned earlier (wow! Steampunk spider-woman is given to pdavid for *ONE* issue and instantly tonguekisses gabriel before leaving, so novel. More fridging ensues. Stalking. Etc.) 2099 as an *universe* has been retconned so many times Nothing is consistent and Nothing is set on stone and frankly i think they should make it an AU separate from main canon and build a whole new world already.

The art in the 2015 + runs consists mostly of tracing, and more of that oily weird feeling applied to fem chars. Perhaps you have noticed in this entire hate review have never once spoken about Miguel's heroic plots and memorable villains --- he has none. At least nothing I can remember or distinguish. (Interchangeable, disposable, etc) There is a vague inkling of "this is an anti-stabilishment spiderman, he fights against The Public Eye, the Corporation Cops!" at the start but much like his cultural illiteracy pdavid has no real insightful politics commentary, so that dissolves into the background in time. Its all buzzwords. All of his plotlines are solved in circuitous or soap operaish extradrama ways; and while some of this is present in other superhero comics, what stands out to me MOST is how utterly fucking joyless Miguel's comics are. It's like going through a slog on obligation. They genuinely gave me a headache every time.

ATSV does a great job of reinventing Miguel and rebuilding the parts of him that showed real promise. Being a different tone-swapped spiderman, futuristic, being more on the tech-science side of crime fighting. Him being a single dad with a daughter is also new. (And he is single! There is no singular mention of marriage or a wife anywhere, he's a geneticist, multiple spider-men we see in this movie were literal clones made in tubes - i am fond of the idea he's a transmasc dad but even if you think he's cis he could have made that baby himself. Adoption is also always there.) I think its very clear ATSV didn't want to bring any of pdavids major weird shit w fem chars to the big screen on the hopes that miguel gets rebooted eventually. I think he's gay. Nobody can prove me wrong.

On that note, Steve Orlando (queer writer, also wrote for DC's midnighter/apollo) did some of the latest 2022/2023 Miguel miniseries. Another reboot! Those were "2099: Exodus" and "Spider-man 2099: Dark Genesis" - i think its campier/trying to tackle superhero plots more head on and trying to do something wide wacky cast focused at Marvel's personal request, but Miguel's future is very up in the air rn. I do really hope they reboot him into something closer to ATSV with latines at the center soon.

What I always reccomend for people curious abt miguel: read his first 3ish 1992 issues, get a general feel and close the book as soon as you feel annoyed. It won't get better. Remember none of it is canon nor has been relevant in over two decades. If you want to know the wider context of his messy chronology, check out some of the 2099 "all comics" type of youtube videos, theres some pretty easy to digest summarizations if u dont wanna waste ur time reading stuff that just got retconned again lol. Most writers now are operating on vibes and that is a freedom you should also allow yourself in your own fanwork.

Putting his panels out of context can be very funny though. (For further curiosity or tangents, there's always my meta tag)

[southernbluebellereader]

MASTERLIST

Who I write for: Call of Duty (Preferably MW2 and MW3); Star Trek (everything up to Enterprise + Strange New Worlds); Slashers (Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers); Jack Reacher (Alan Ritchson); SIX (coming soon)

REQUESTS: Closed | INBOX: Open | TAG LIST: Click Here | (*) = WIP

Last Update: December 29, 2023

{JACK REACHER}

| JACK REACHER (Alan Ritchson) |

General Headcanons

General Headcanons Part 2

X Fem! Southern Waitress

Peach Pie and Cream

{CALL OF DUTY}

| IMAGINES/HEADCANONS/REQUESTS |

Imagine Dancing with Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Imagine Dancing with John Price, Ghost, and Soap

Do They Know How to Take a Bra Off? (COD 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, & König)

Routines (Taskforce 141 x Southern Hairdresser Reader (PLATONIC))

Routines Part 2 (Taskforce 141 x Southern Hairdresser Reader (PLATONIC))

Tenderheart Bear (141 x People Pleaser F! Field Medic (PLATONIC))

How would the 141 react to you getting your nails done? (COD MW2) (Task Force 141 - Semi-NSFW)

(18) Request: Imagine Ghost & König with an anal vibrator

Request: 141 x Reader w/ Psoriasis & Vitiligo (SFW & Platonic)

Request: Taskforce 141 x Reader with rumors of being a slut

(18+) Request: Kvinlig Demon (141 x F! Reader w/ Womb Tattoo)

| CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE |

Requests

(18+) NSFW Price x Younger S/O & he is wrapped around your finger ;)

(18+) NSFW Daddy Price x Wife (this a little *spicy*)

Family Day (x Wife Reader; y'all and the 141 go to Disney World as a family)

Personal Nurse (x Nurse F! Reader)

Leg Warmers (x Reader w/ misaligned knee caps)

*Price begging - collar - sub!Price

X Female Escort Reader

[PART 1] Don’t Look At Me Like That (FLUFF/LITTLE ANGST)

[PART 2] Excitement in Patience (18+ MATURE)

[PART 3] Cup of Coffee (Kinda of a prequel)

X Female Wife Reader

Gray Hairs (FLUFF)

X Young Reader with Facial Scars

[PART 1] Bruised Apple (Platonic, Angst, Facial Scars, Mention of Violence)

[PART 2] Apple Slices (DITTO [Mention of Violence & Trauma])

[PART 3] Apple Pie (Platonic, going on slightly romantic, Angst, Fluffity Fluff)

X MILF Single Mom

Forbidden (Fluff, Innuendos, Brief mention of violence)

| LIEUTENANT SIMON “GHOST” RILEY |

Requests

Drake (x AFAB Teammate w/ Tattoo; Simon seeing their tattoo for the first time)

Turquesa (x AFAB Latinx Nurse Reader)

Midnight Dining (x AFAB Civilian Reader (leather jacket Ghost))

Emergency Snack Run (x AFAB Gas Station Clerk)

Personal Mechanic (Mechanic Ghost x AFAB Reader)

X Female Southern Cook

[PART 1] Midnight Snack (FLUFF & PLATONIC)

[PART 2] Tomato, Tom-ah-to (FLUFF & PLATONIC)

[PART 3] Bag of Peas (FLUFF & PLATONIC)

[PART 4] Hash Browns (FLUFF & MOSTLY PLATONIC)

[PART 5] Prickly Pear (FLUFF & DEF NOT PLATONIC ANYMORE)

[PART 6] Peaches and Cream (FLUFF, ANGST, LOVEY DOVEY)

[PART 7] Chicken and Dumplings (VERY ANGST, A LITTLE VIOLENCE)

[PART 8] Hot Links (FLUFFITY FLUFF FLUFF LOVEY DOVEY)

X Female Reader

(18+) Hot For Teacher (Simon's S/O gets a teacher costume for Halloween)

Being Chosen…By A Baby (Single Mom Reader)

| COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS |

X Female Wife Reader

Forehead Kisses (FLUFF)

Alejandro and His Big Ol' Forehead - One, Two, Three, Four

| SERGEANT KEEGAN P. RUSS (COD GHOSTS) |

Fun and Games (x F! reader) (PLATONIC) - His name is said in a funny accent

| SERGEANT KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK |

Requests

A little nosy, aren't we? (x F! Reader gets caught looking at his social media)

(18+) Car Shenanigans (x F! Reader giving head/getting fingered)

Post-Mission Angst (x AFAB Reader)

X Female Signaler/Radiowoman Reader

Guardian Angel (bubbling relationship)

| KÖNIG |

How he likes to show affection by holding you close (xGN Reader)

| COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES |

X Pregnant Wife Reader

First Time Husband (first-time pregnancy; little angst, fluff)

| SERGEANT LOGAN WALKER (COD GHOSTS) |

Requests

Headcanons (Both SFW and NSFW)

What would Logan be like as a Father? (fuffity fluff fluff)

Headcanons Part 2 (Both SFW and NSFW)

| SOBIESŁAW "GROMSKO" KOŚCIUSZKO |

General Headcanons (SFW and NSFW)

Supportive Soft Friend (SFW Fluff)

| KATE LASWELL |

x Wife Reader

My Wife (fluffity fluff fluff)

| ALEX KELLER |

x F! New Yorker Medic Reader

Polar Opposites (Golden Retriever Alex, Black Cat Reader; Fluff)

| SERGEANT JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH |

Requests

*Dilf! Johnny x Babysitter

x F! Reader

Calling Him "Stud"

{STAR TREK}

| IMAGINES/HEADCANONS |

Kirk, Spock, & Bones x Southern Reader (SFW)

Do They Know How to Take Bra Off? (Kirk, Bones, Spock, Scotty, Chekov)

| DOCTOR LEONARD “BONES” MCCOY |

X Female Nurse Practitioner

Medical Couple (FLUFF LOVEY DOVEY; TOS/REBOOT MOVIES)

| FIRST COMMANDER SPOCK |

Requests

Pop of Color (x F! Betazoid Quartermaster/Seamstress; STRANGE NEW WORLDS)

{SLASHERS}

| JASON VOORHEES |

X Female Camp Counselor

Instinct (stalking)

{SIX}

| JOE "BEAR" GRAVES |

Requests

Request: Joe Graves X Younger Wife/GF Headcanons

[igncrxntripley]

double trouble

requested by @lokis-queen01 - Would you be able to write a request for Damien Priest x female reader where she is Dominic’s twin sister but she is in a secret relationship with Damien and she joins judgement day with Dominic but also reveals that she is in a relationship with him

a/n: posting this crazy late but pls enjoy :)

mentions: overall SFW, some description of violence within matches, slight emotional manipulation, some family drama, use of google translate, fem!reader, poc!reader, latinx!reader, mysterio twin sister!reader, damianxreader

translations: mi corazón: my heart, sweetheart; princesa: princess; mi princesa, estoy tan orgulloso: my princess, i’m so proud of you; bienvenido a tu nueva familia: welcome to your new family. 

taglist: @thesithdiaries​ @cassiesgreta​ @roseheartsworld​ @theworldofotps​​ @babybatlover​ @ripleyswhore​ @auburnwrites​ @obl1vionblackhart​ @emogoblin-666​ @hereliespumpkin​ @blxxdshxteyes​ @neptune-lover​ @bunnysmyname​ @i-have-issues-lol​ @ares-athena​ @thatonepansexual2000​ @witcherfromwallachia​ @christinabae​

there was no doubt in the world you loved your dad, but he had put both you and dominik on the back burner when it came to your careers. the three of you used to be unstoppable together - a father and his children winning championships and being some of the best in the industry! what could go wrong?

nothing went wrong, per say. but three people entered your lives and helped you see the light; rhea, damian, and finn. three people who had followed your family relentlessly for weeks, months, even, to convince the mysterio twins to join the judgement day. and the two of you fought tooth and nail against it because you were that committed to your dad. 

dominik was the first to finally be convinced. rhea had a way with words, and it was clear just how enamored he was with her. when you found out, though, you were livid. 

--- ---

“you what?” you said, looking at your twin in shock after he told you what he’d decided. “dominik, you can’t be serious. after everything they’ve done to us?” 

dominik shook his head. “y/n, think about it.” he said, a darkness in his eyes that you hadn’t ever seen before. “they can give us what dad hasn’t. you’ve seen how they work together, support one another to be the best they can possibly be. it’s what we need. we could be unstoppable!” he said, grabbing your upper arms as you looked away from him. “i love you, but i’m doing this with or without you. and i don’t want anything to happen to you.”

a scoff left your lips. “oh, you don’t want anything to happen to me?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “as if they haven’t already made our lives a living hell. rhea has been manipulating you and spreading these lies through your head!” 

dom squeezed your arms, needing nothing more than for his twin sister to hear him out. “listen to me, please.” he said softly. “i know you’re upset. i get that. but just...just hear them out.” dominik was practically begging you. you knew he wanted the two of you to do this together, but you just couldn’t get behind it. not yet.

--- ---

just as rhea had worked her charm on dominik, ‘the punisher’ of the judgement day had started to make his own move on you. and just like his counterpart, he had a way with words and a certain smoothness to him that had you eating out of the palm of his hand. you weren’t giving into him that easily though. 

--- ---

sneaking around with damian wasn’t easy. if you weren’t careful, someone was going to see you. so the two of you often met up in his hotel room, you leaving your dad and brother at the guise of seeing one of your friends. you knew you couldn’t do this forever, though. so you had to make a decision about damian’s offer. 

this came to a head only a mere week before clash at the castle; you sat in damian’s lap during one of your top secret trips to his hotel room, your arms around his neck and playing with his hair as he gave your hips gentle squeezes. “i can’t do it, dame.” you whispered, the nickname rolling off of your tongue as you looked down at your lap. 

damian leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours. “why not, mi corazón?” he asked softly. “you’re better off with us. we can take care of you; i can take care of you.” he reminded you, the same speech damian had given you for weeks on end during your secret conversations. “we won’t have to hide anymore. and you know if you don’t say yes then...then we can’t do this anymore.”

his words made your chest hurt. while you wanted nothing more than to be with damian and let everyone know you were his, you couldn’t do it at the risk of hurting others. “my dad, though...”

“baby, i know you love your dad.” damian said with a gentle shake of your head, using his finger to lift your chin so he could look at you. “but you’re so much bigger and better than him. both you and dominik have so much potential, and rey hasn’t even scratched the surface.” he was so gentle with his words, so patient as he watched the gears turn in your head. it made your heart flutter, but at the same time your brain wanted you not to believe a word he was saying. “join us, y/n. not just for me, but for you.”

you had decided that night what you were going to do, but you were going to wait to make it clear what your choice was. it was going to be the first step in paving your own path, without the influence of your father. of course damian was thrilled, but you made him promise to keep quiet for just a little while longer. 

cardiff wasn’t ready for what you had planned. 

--- ---

clash at the castle, september 3rd, 2022.

you stood at ringside, next to your twin brother dominik as you both watched the match in front of you; your dad, rey myserio, teaming up with edge to finally put away the judgement day after months of them tormenting your family. not only had they attacked the three of you, this match was meant to put things to bed, give everyone the piece of mind they needed and hopefully get the judgement day off of your backs.

but no one knew what was coming.

you and dominik had talked about everything backstage, away from your dad and away from anyone who didn’t need to hear it. you had a plan, and you were going to make a statement without the help of rey mysterio. this was your moment, dominik’s moment. and no one was going to take it away from you. 

truth be told, most of the match was a blur; you and dominik kept up your gimmick as the proud kids in the background of rey and edge’s moment up until the very end. but eventually you found yourself stood in the ring, next to your brother, watching rey and one of his great friends celebrating their big moment. 

but then dominik made his move, and you knew your plan was officially in action. 

your twin gave edge a low blow, and didn’t even try to hide the smirk that rose on your face as the hall of famer fell to his knees. the shock on your father’s face only fueled your fire, and as edge sat on his knees you followed it up with a superkick to the chin that had his head spinning. 

rey turned both you and dominik to face him, your own chest heaving with rage and anxiety as dominik caught his breath. as twins, your energy had always radiated off of one another and you always did everything as a team; this was no different, your brother’s hand reaching for yours as his way of letting you know you were in this together. 

“por favor, por favor.” your dad pleaded, his hands in front of him as he looked at his eldest children. “listen to me, both of you. please, leave him alone.” one of rey’s hands reached out to hold dominik;s chest as the other held your cheek, and truth be told that alone almost sobered you up. the look in your dad’s eyes through the white contacts almost convinced you to stop this whole thing and walk away...but you didn’t. 

dominik delivered the harshest clothesline he could manage right to your dad’s chest, and you immediately climbed up to the top turnbuckle at the nearest ringpost. the boos in the audience only fueled the adrenaline rushing through your body as you landed the biggest splash of your career so far onto your dad, and you and dominik stood by to look at exactly what you’d done. 

you could only barely hear the judgement day’s laugh behind you as you left the ring with your big brother, hand in hand as you both came to terms with what you’d done. but you knew this was only the beginning, and come monday night, everyone in the wwe universe was going to find out what the mysterio twins had planned for their futures. 

--- ---

monday night raw, two days after clash at the castle. 

you stood backstage next to your twin brother, watching on the monitor as your dad and edge spoke about what you’d done only two days prior. you stood with damian, distanced from the rest of the judgement day so you could have your own moment with him before sealing the your fate. his arms wrapped around your waist, and yours rested on his shoulders as he gave you one final kiss. 

“you look good in all black, princesa.” he said softly, complimenting the black mini skirt and heeled booties you’d chosen. a gentle smirk teased his lips as the two of your gently swayed your bodies; damian knew this was hard for you, and he was doing whatever he needed to do to calm you before you and dominik confronted your father. “let us handle business, okay? and after tonight, everything will be okay.”

you gave damian one more gentle kiss, nodding your head as his words registered in your brain. “thank you. for everything.” you whispered, smiling up at him before you were interrupted. 

“break it up, lovebirds.” rhea teased softly, her own hand interlocked with that of your twin brother’s. “we’ll see you two shortly.” she and the rest of the judgement day made their way to gorilla, and you followed behind with dominik. 

“you’re ready?” he asked you softly, giving dom a small nod as you locked arms with your brother. 

your free hand adjusted the collar of his button-up shirt, giving him a smile that was practically identical to his own. “as ready as i’ll ever be.” you said quietly, standing by the monitor to watch the segment unfold. 

edge made his final call for you and your twin brother to come out to the ring, but edge and your father were met with the screams of rhea’s music much to their disappointment. you both watched, as rhea tormented your father and the hall of famer about how she’d turned dominik into ‘a real man’, and how you were so much more than ‘rey mysterio’s babygirl’. 

truth be told, the next few moments were a blur. you gave your brother one final look, gently squeezed his arm, and the two of you walked out to meet the judgement day to claim your new spots in the group. 

you couldn’t look at the ring, because you knew seeing your dad would only make this more difficult. but oddly enough, you relished in the booing that resounded through the crowd; it made you feel so...good. so powerful. and you could feel that same energy radiating off of your brother as you two walked in slow strides side by side. you both joined rhea’s side, rhea pulling your twin brother closer as your hands busied themselves with the bracelet around your wrist damian had given you backstage.

“dom, y/n...” rey practically begged. you finally looked up at the ring, seeing his pain through the mask on his face. “snap out of it, guys. both of you still have time, so make amends with edge. make things right.” his eyes went directly to you, and even though it hurt to look at your dad in the moment, you stayed strong. “y/n, babygirl, come on.” he begged. “this isn’t you. my little girl wouldn’t do this.”

you watched as your father got out of the ring, closing the distance between yourself and your brother as you met him on the ramp. rhea followed close behind, but your dad stood in front of his twins to make one final plea. “don’t do this.” he said softly, neither you nor your brother even bothering to look at the man in front of you. “i’m talking to both of you. don’t do this.”

the two of you refused to let him intimidate you into giving in. you were no longer going to allow your father to treat you like small children, but rather you were both going to prove to him that you were better than anything he could have ever amounted to. 

“you can’t even look at me in the eyes? see me face to face?” he asked, his voice filled with shock and anger at what he was witnessing. he was so shocked and angry, that all he could do was walk back up the ramp. you and dominik watched, your faces straight and unwavering while rhea had the audacity to laugh at him. the old y/n would have been fuming at someone laughing at her father...but you let that version of you die in cardiff only two days ago. 

the next few moments were a blur; damian and finn had unleashed their attack on edge in the ring, your dad came back out to make one final plea, and he then became the target of his own attack from rhea. but what awoke you from this odd daydream, was the feeling of cold steel being placed into your hand. 

you gave rhea a small nod, climbing up the stairs to the ring to stand side by side with damian. he gave you a smirk, standing to the side to allow you the room to do what you pleased, and with the encouragement of your new-found family you didn’t hesitate to hit edge with that chair as hard as you possibly could. it was hard to even explain the rush through your body as the metal connected with edge’s back, but it felt amazing. 

the boys took over from there until your dad got back in the ring, trying to be a hero as he stood over edge’s body to shield him from damian and finn. but by then you’d all moved out onto the ramp again, damian’s hands pulling your body closer to his as your dad watched. 

damian gently grabbed your cheek, the both of you smirking at rey as your boyfriend pulled you into a kiss. this kiss wasn’t just for show, either; t was the same as every other time damian had placed his lips against yours, all those times you two met in secret before or after shows to discuss your future with the judgement day, and now he was using it as a gesture to show where your loyalty now lied. 

while his calloused hands gently led you back up the ring, smoke practically pouring from your father’s ears, you smiled at the feeling of standing arm in arm with your new family. with four people who wanted nothing but the best from you, and who were going to do everything in their power to build you up rather than put you on the back burner like rey had done. 

this was your moment. dominik’s moment. not rey’s. and the whole world was about to find out who the real mysterio twins were. 

once you were backstage, damian lifted your body up into his arms in the biggest hug he could manage. you hid in his neck, breathing in the spice of his cologne and tangling a hand in his ponytail. “mi princesa, estoy tan orgulloso.” he whispered in your ear. “bienvenido a tu nueva familia.”

you pulled back as damian placed you back onto your feet, giving him one more kiss before smiling at the man who single-handedly turned your life around. “i think i like the other side a lot more already.” you told him softly. letting him lead you back to the dressing room with the rest of the group. 

who knew betrayal could be so romantic?

[bihansthot]

Master list part 2:

Important general Bi-Han info

Bi-Han x f!reader:

Daddy’s Good Girl (smut, Daddy kink)

Relax (smut, woman on top)

Insecure Reader (implied smut, drabble)

Mid-Autumn Festival 1,000 Follower Spectacular! (smut, prostate massages)

Bathtime (smut, quickie, drabble)

Chains & Whips Excite Me (smut, quickie, drabble, light bdsm)

Bi-Han x gn!reader:

A Snowy Afternoon (no smut, fluff)

Dumplings Gone Awry (no smut, pregnant reader, fluff)

Bi-Han’s IKEA adventure (no smut, suggestive, fluff, swears, some anxiety)

Blowjob Drabble (smut)

Bi-Han’s Type (suggestive, kinks mentioned)

Goodbye, Father (suggestive, no smut just making out, mentions of death)

Taking Bi-Han to get piercings (fluff, piercings)

Wedding Headcanons (fluff)

Unfaithful (suggestive, swearing, making out)

Ooo Woah (fluff, bimbo reader, headcanons)

Bi-Han x Syzoth x f!reader:

Cold Blooded (smut, mmf threesome)

Guessing Game (smut, taking turns)

Mating Seaon (smut, technically just Syzoth x f!reader but the OT3 is implied)

Stay Warm (fluff, OT3)

Boo to You, Happy Howl-o-Ween part 2! (smut, mmf threesome, mxm, tetraphelia, a/b/o, knotting)

Bi-Han x Syzoth:

Understand My Ship (Bi-Han x Syzoth, nsft)

Relationship Head Canons (fluff)

Bi-Han Headcanons and ramblings:

Bi-Han as Grandmaster

Girl Dad!Bi-Han

More Girl Dad!Bi-Han

Bi-Han’s long hair

Scorpion is an assassin too

Mk1 Offcial Bio

Sareena 😒

Please don’t kill him Boon

The Problem with Noob

Anti-Cyber Initiative

Favorite Pizza

It’s an fing grilled cheese

K-Pop Bi-Han

Body Hair

More Dad!Bi-Han

Concept Art 1, 2

Canon Height

Still more Dad!Bi-Han

Kuai Liang x f!reader:

Yoga Blunders (fluff, pregnant reader, mentions of child birth)

Sub-Zero Bros:

Bi-Han is a GOOD brother

Past Bi-Han should have been in MK11

Kuai Liang is done with Bi-Han’s shit

Name meanings

No really, Bi-Han is a GOOD brother

Their relationship with their parents

Ethnicity and other stuff

Papa Zero

Reiko x f!reader:

Down time (smut)

Riding Drabble (smut)

Smoke x f!reader:

Confession (fluff, drinking, kissing)

First Impressions Can Be Deceiving (smut, first time)

Multiple Kharacters & Other One Offs:

For my Latinx Lovelies (Tomas, Syzoth, Kuai Liang, Bi-Han, fluff and Mexican headcanons)

Insertion (smut, Cyber!Sektor x afab!reader)

Self Ship and OC stuff:

Understand My Ship (Solarbear, Sol x Bi-Han, nsft)

Understand My Ship (Solizardbear, Bi-Han x Syzoth x Sol, nsft)

OC Hallvard Breivik, Face Claim

My Lin Kuei Tattoo

MK Discord Server

How Sol met Bi-Han (Solarbear, Bi-Han x Sol, fluff)

Super Self-Indulgent Shark Week Spectacular (Solarbear, Bi-Han x Sol, fluff)

The kids, Dating Bīngbīng, Bīngbīng’s hairstyles, still more about Bīngbīng, appearance, birth of the twins

Relationship Head Canons (Tomas x Hallvard, fluff)

Self Ship Art 1,2,3

Our Wedding (fluff, Solarbear, Bi-Han x Sol)

[honestsycrets]

❛ pairing | Miguel O’Hara x FB!Reader, platonic Hobie x Reader

❛ type | 4-chaptered story

❛ summary | the moment you want a sign of love from Miguel is the moment that your relationship is fucked. 

❛ tags | fuckbuddies, a very latinx piece, jealousy, jealous Miguel O’Hara, a sparse hobie appearance, spidey!reader, latina!reader, no translations of the spanish included, female reader, some mention of blood and wounds, some creative liberties, slight spoilers.

🕷️Chapter I: Mi Alma

🕷️Chapter II: Corazón

🕷️Chapter III: Mi Muñeca

🕷️ Chapter IV: Chiquitín

[creatingblackcharacters]

hi! i wanted to ask if you had any posts in regards to afro latinx/a character representation? I'd like to explore different hair styles for my character and not fall into stereotypes!

I don't have any posts specific to that, no! As for hair styles, the hair textures rules are going to remain the same. If you're looking into specific hairstyles and culture for Afro-Latino communities, what you'll first need to do is narrow down the scope of where you're looking. "Afro-Latino" is incredibly broad; the African diaspora is huge lmao. Are they living in New York City? What are their roots? Are they Cuban? Haitian? Brazilian? Mexican? From the Caribbean? What island specifically in the Caribbean? There's vastly different cultures and histories within that label. If you know what identity your character actually has, you can then research the styles of that community!

As to avoid stereotype, it would be worth looking into how Afro-Latinos are treated, both as a whole and in specific to their region. Race is not... codified as simply as it is in the United States everywhere else, but racism and colorism still occur. For example, most people wouldn't clock Lupita Nyong'o as Afro-Latina; many Afro-Latina actresses and models have spoken on the lack of inclusion or "being less Latina" in the eyes of media. Even Tenoch Huerta (not Afro-Latino) mentioned how people felt he was "too dark" to play Namor, and that man is lighter than me lmao and I'm not dark skinned. It's an overlap you'll want to pay attention to.