#Shape: Long Hexagon Shape

[avegemstones]

Blue Copper Turquoise, Hexagon Cabochon, Semi Precious Stone, Calibrated Smooth, For Jewelry Making, Copper Mix Stones, All Sizes Available Stone Name: Blue Copper Turquoise (Natural) Shape: Long Hexagon Shape Stone Cut: Cabochon (Flat Back) Stone Size: 10x15mm Use: Jewelry Making Origin - USA Link on my bio to purchase

#Blue Copper Turquoise #Hexagon Cabochon #Semi Precious Stone #Calibrated Smooth #For Jewelry Making #Copper Mix Stones #All Sizes Available #Stone Name: Blue Copper Turquoise (Natural) #Shape: Long Hexagon Shape #Stone Cut: Cabochon (Flat Back) #Stone Size: 10x15mm #Use: Jewelry Making #Origin - USA #Link on my bio to purchase #turquoise #turquoisejewelry #turquoiseandsilver #turquoiseoverdiamonds #handmade #handmadejewelry #jewelry #slowfashion #freepeople #freepeoplestyle #freespirit #freespiritstyle #hippie #hippiechic #hippiestyle #anthropologie

[s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s]

Here's the new single from my album Javelin. Video animated by Stephen Halker. “Will Anybody Ever Love Me?” More info here.

THANK YOU.

Quick background about the video: my friend Stephen Halker took elements from the album art that I made (collage, paper arts, paintings etc.) and incorporated them into these really wild CGI fantasy landscapes that he created. He sent me some notes about his process and approach that I thought were really cool, if you're interested.

From Stephen:

"This is what I was really thinking about when i made this video:

It's like walking into someone's soul. First they put up these facades that look normal, but then you find out how messy they are.

  I wanted it to start out super normal and cultivated. a landscape made flat by the machinations of an agrarian society.

  Then a nice walk through a forest. nothing special. but more wild

  Then the expanse of a grand canyon.... but you go, "hey what's that thing on the ground? Is that supposed to be there?

  The grasslands are when you start to see curated memories. clean circles of thoughts.  Everything is still manageable, manicured, controlled.  but what's that on the horizon.  looks like there's some bigger thoughts buried in those grassy north dakotan buttes.

  Then comes the chorus.  You gotta mix it up for the chorus.  This scene is called darklands in my computer.  I made the hexagons to reference Carrie and Lowell.  i thought of this structure as if it was the longings of the heart. this sort of plinth of idols. Starting with the starlet from the "Will anybody ever love me" page of the booklet.  Then transferring that longing to archetype.... then parents, family, friends,  the love of the masses...

Once you know this much about someone, the rest of it is just is just a continuation of craziness. I wanted to morph from contained circles toward individual cut out shapes.

  moving through different corridors and memories.

  Obsessing over one memory.

  Building towers of meaning, trying to make sense of moments events through repetition and fortification.

Second chorus was supposed to recall some of the previous scenes.  the wheat, the Planet, travelling through the same hexagons, but this time they aren't filled with icons. just patterns.

  you travel through the puffy paint wormhole into a less tethered version of the self.

  No more landscape. just a repetition of memories.  The world has fallen away.

 I've always loved phyllotaxis and golden sections. they feel very.... "this goes on forever"-y.

  The image of your face split in half, thrown into this fibonacci sequence reminded me of your "perpetual self" song from avalanche (which has always stuck with me)

  There's a floor again. but now it's just the triangle and tape patterns. illuminated.

 Flip to the image of Katrina under the owl was giving off a strong "athena" vibe.  Goddess of wisdom, craft, warfare.  She could make sense of my warring emotions.

End scene."

#Instagram

[godbirdart]

Hey Tobias, aside from your incredible artworks themselves, I also absolutely love the detailed abstract backgrounds you sometimes put on portraits and I've been wanting to try my hand at something in the same vain. I was considering trying Illustrator for those, since I normally use CSP and while I love it, it kinda feels pretty horrible at anything geometrical and shape-y, so I was also wondering what software you use for them if you'd like to share!

oH you mean like the geometric shapes in these?

that is 1000% Clip Studio Paint. I use it for, quite literally, all of my work. Pixel art, illustrations, animations - it's all Clip.

The upper backgrounds of those pieces are done using the Symmetrical Ruler and Shape tools, as well as maybe a brush or two for flair.

The Symmetrical Ruler is under the Ruler tool:

it lets you draw symmetrically on the canvas like this [the purple line appears so you know where your mirrors meet]

note: sometimes your brush needs to have snapping enabled to work with a ruler tool - especially if you're using a fancy custom brush from the assets shop.

you can fix this by going into your brush's settings [clicking the little wrench on your selected brush] and then toggle on Enable Snapping under the Corrections section:

Regarding the Shapes tool,

It's technically called the Figure tool but I'm calling it the Shapes tool. For those unfamiliar, Clip doesn't come with preset shapes beyond your standard lines, rectangles, and circles; BUT you can easily create your own triangles and hexagons and whatnot with the Polygon subtool.

Change the number of corners to that of the shape you want and tada! SHAPE. The number of corners can go up to 32 - at which point you're essentially just making a vaguely chunky circle so I mean, have fun.

I'm gonna pause here because this post is already getting a bit long, but if there's somethin specific you want me to elaborate on feel free to ask.

#long post #clip studio paint #clip studio paint help #clip studio paint tutorial #art help

[echos-gal]

ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!

(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)

SEASON 2:

right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???

in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.

one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....

Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)

Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.

"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?

Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.

i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.

SEASON 3:

this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.

"domicile." that is all.

CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.

"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.

CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.

he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.

it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:

firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.

Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.

the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!

we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."

Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.

feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.

likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.

CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.

it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.

we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.

this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.

leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.

FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!

give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!

we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!

the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.

Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?

yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎

the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.

FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE

it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.

i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.

secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)

#i definitely forgot some points but i just need to post this and be done with it #feel free to add your own observations 👀 #tbb tech #the bad batch #tech lives #techphee #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers

[bethanythebogwitch]

When they say "be there or be square", today's Wet Beast Wednesday subject chose "square". I am referring to boxfish. Also known as cowfish, trunkfish, and cofferfish, these real-life Minecraft fish are bony fish in the family Ostraciidae, sometimes called Ostraciontidae. This makes them close relatives of pufferfish and file fish in the order Tetraodontiformes. While all the Tetraodontiformes are weird-looking fish, the cowfish are easily the strangest, they don't even really look that much like fish.

(image: the yellow boxfish Ostracion cubicum. They literally named it "cube")

The squarish shape of the boxfish comes from their unique skeleton. They have a carapace made of overlapping, hexagonal plates called dermal scutes that are the equivalent of scales in other fish. Each plate is composed of a soft and bendable collagen layer and mineralized surface layer. This carapace is very sturdy, with holes in it to allow for the eyes, mouth, fins, and cloaca to pass through. In game terminology, the cowfishes are stone walls. Because of the composition of the carapace, boxfish are fully rigid and cannot bend their bodies in any direction. This, combined with their not-overly hydrodynamic shapes, makes them slow and weak swimmers. When they filled out their character sheets they went all-in on defense and neglected speed and offense. A boxfish won't be winning any races, but the carapace is extremely hard to bite through or puncture, giving an effective defense. Despite their small sizes (the largest species can get up to 50 cm/20 in long, and most species are much smaller), adult boxfish have almost no natural predators. It's worth noting that while boxfish are slow swimmers, they are very maneuverable. They have the ability to create small vortices around their bodies to help maneuver.

(image: a boxfish skeleton)

(image: a boxfish with its hexagonal carapace visible through its skin)

Not satisfied with having an impenetrable shell, many species of boxfish developed another defense mechanism. When stressed, they can release poison into the water. These poisons are surfactants, substances that break up surface tension, that can damage the cell membranes of other animals. While each species has their own specific chemical and not every species is poisonous, these toxins are collectively called pahutoxins. Poison is a pretty common thing in the Tetraodontiformes. Famously, pufferfish, close relatives of boxfish, are highly poisonous. Most poisonous boxfish species are brightly colored. This is called aposematism and is used as a warning to potential predators that the animal is dangerous. A famous example of aposematism is the brightly-colored poison dart frogs. Young boxfish are typically more colorful than older ones.

(image: a longhorn cowfish Lactoria cornuta)

Boxfish are voracious omnivores that will eat just about anything that can fit in their tiny mouths. The majority of boxfish species live in coral reefs and their diet consists largely of algae that they scrape off of coral. Additional foods include sponges, tube worms, mollusks, and small fish and invertebrates. Some species can spit out water to blow aside sand and search for buried food.

(image: Ostracion meleagris, the spotted boxfish)

Boxfish are typically solitary, but occasionally come together in small groups. These groups typically consist of one male and a few females. Scientists speculate these groups are formed for reproduction. They are known to reproduce by swimming to the surface of the water, releasing their gametes, and quickly swimming away.

(Aracana ornata, the ornate boxfish)

Because of their unique appearances, boxfish are popular in aquariums. They are recommended for experts only because of their ability to release poison. Boxfish are easily stressed and can kill themselves and other tank-mates by releasing toxin. Aquarists usually say they should be kept in solo tanks or with smaller, mild-mannered tank-mates. In addition, they need to be in tanks with minimal water flow as even the current of a decently-sized filter can blow them around uncontrollably. People who keep boxfish have called them shy, but highly inquisitive and even playful. They have been reported spitting water and their handlers, apparently in an attempt to get attention.

(image: Lactoria forasini, the thornback boxfish)

#wet beast wednesday #minecraft-looking ass fish #marine biology #biology #zoology #ecology #fish #fishblr #fishposting #boxfish #cowfish #longhorn cowfish #tetraodontiformes

[trashpandacraft]

I found fibrecraft tumblr after searching drop spindles because my dad *didn’t even know what that was.* And despite having been firmly of the opinion that I didn’t intend to learn it, y’all have me getting ever closer to giving in. However, I’m also growing ever more enamored with the idea of weaving - and despite recently deciding to give knitting and crochet another go - I think it looks the most fun of the fiber crafts. My issue is that I have absolutely no space.

But I’m beginning to realize there’s a lot of different looms and types of weaving. So I was wondering if you have any resources or tips for small space methods and storage?

welcome to fibrecraft tumblr! it's fun here, we have enablers.

i will admit that while i love knitting, weaving is amazing, and is much better with regards to instant gratification—weaving for an hour gets you a lot more fabric than knitting for an hour.

so let's talk about weaving, because i have great news for you: you can 100% totally weave in a small space if you want to, and you even have options for how you do it. i'm going to go through basically all the small space weaving options that i'm aware of in roughly size order, and if you make it to the bottom of this you'll have a pretty good overview of space-saving weaving methods.

the first question to ask yourself is what you want to weave. maybe you're not sure yet, which is totally fine. if you don't immediately have strong feelings about it, though, maybe consider if band weaving strikes your fancy. this is pretty limited in size, but lets you weave belts, straps (like camera or bag straps), lanyards, etc.

if you think that sounds neat, it's worth looking into tablet weaving, an inkle loom, or a band/tape loom. tablet weaving takes up no space at all—if you can fit a stack of index cards into your life, you can fit tablet weaving. the tablets are small square cards, often made out of heavy cardstock, and even with a project on them, you can probably fit them into an index card holder.

inkle looms are larger, and to be honest i've never used one and don't know a ton about them, but they're also used for making woven bands. the looms can also be very aesthetically pleasing, if that's something you're into. they can be very big, but the ashford inklette, for example, is only 36 cm long and maybe 12 cm wide.

tape looms are—in my experience, anyhow—larger than tablet weaving but smaller than inkle looms, and even the larger ones are only about shoebox size. they vary widely, from gorgeous, complicated little looms to a handheld paddle that you use to create a shed, which is what you put your yarn through when you're weaving.

if that doesn't sound like good times, consider a frame loom. these are pretty simple—if you ever wove potholders out of stretchy cloth strips as a kid, you probably used a frame loom to do it on. frame looms are generally inexpensive and readily available, and can be used for small woven objects like potholders, coasters, placemats, etc. they can also be used to make some truly stunning tapestries. while you can buy a huge frame loom, you're still only talking about huge in two directions—it might be as wide as your armspan, but it's still only a couple inches thick.

another option is a pin loom. these don't get mentioned a lot, and i'm not totally sure why. pin looms are shapes with a bunch of pins (metal points, usually) coming out of them. on one hand, you're limited to making things that are the shape of the loom, but on the other hand, if you've been hanging around fibrecraft tumblr, you've seen all the things crocheters get up to with granny squares, right? there's no reason in the world that you can't do all those things with the squares made on a pin loom. or the hexagons! or the triangles! i've been kinda thinking about getting a little hexagon or triangle pin loom and using it to sample my handspun, then turning the shapes into a blanket.

if you hate all of that, that's ok! we have more options.

you could consider a backstrap loom, which is an ancient way of weaving that's still practiced today in many places. backstrap looms are cool because you can weave probably 24 inches wide on them, but even with a project on it, they take almost no room at all. backstrap looms are fairly easy to diy, because they're basically a bunch of dowels, so they can be a good low-cost way to try out weaving. backstrap looms will let you make longer, wider fabric than anything else we've mentioned so far!

another option—stay with me—is a toy loom. there are a number of cheap looms for sale on amazon/ali express/some local places that are actually fully functional looms. recently i've seen a number of people (like sally pointer, though i'm sure i've seen someone using one of the brightly coloured harness looms, as well) who've used them and report that they're functional, if basic, looms. you're fairly constrained in terms of project size, since there's not a lot of space for the finished fabric to wind on, and there's a very limited width, but the looms are quite small and tuck away easily.

ok, but so what if you hate all of those options? don't worry—there are more options! this is the part where things get expensive, though.

as looms go, rigid heddle looms are actually quite reasonably sized. i think the smallest one i've seen is a 40cm (~16") weaving width, which is about 50x60 (20x24") in length/width, and 13cm (5") high. so that's more space than anything else we've talked about, but it's still not a ton of space, you know? a 40cm rigid heddle will let you weave lovely scarves and things of that nature—table runners, placemats, strips of woven fabric to whipstitch together into a blanket, etc.

but maybe that's enough. so let's talk about table looms. some of them are quite large—mine, for example, is about a metre square and sits on a frame that it came with. it is not what you would call space efficient. but many of them, especially modern ones, are very compact, and can even be folded up into something more or less briefcase sized. (weird way to consider it, since the last time i saw a briefcase was probably the 80s, but you know what i mean, i bet.) the cool part here is that you can weave damn near anything you want on a table loom. the less cool part is that for the compact ones that fold up, you're looking at hundreds if not thousands of dollars. the smallest one i'm aware of is the louët erica, which folds down to 42x62x42cm (16.5x24.5x16.5") and gives you 40cm (16") of weaving width. i feel like that's impressively small. you'd have to decide for yourself if that's enough to justify the $500 usd/$800 aud price tag, though.

finally, we've come to folding floor looms. i don't think someone who's never woven before should run out and buy one of these unless money is just literally not at all a concern for you, but they are basically the dream for those of us trapped in crappy rentals, and it seemed weird to leave them out when i'd come this far.

some floor looms are various levels of collapsible. to be clear, this does you absolutely no good at all when you're actively weaving, because you have to unfold them to weave, but it does you a lot of good if you'd like to have a floor loom and still have the ability to, say, walk through the living room when you're not actively using the loom.

most relevant to our discussion about small weaving footprints, some looms fold up entirely. they are incredibly fucking expensive and incredibly fucking cool. the two that i'm most aware of are the leclerc compact and the schacht wolf line, both of which fold up to about half of their unfolded depth. they're still not small—i think that they're both the better part of 75cm (30") wide and tall, so even if they fold down to 40cm (16") deep, they're still 75cm wide and tall. which is Fairly Large, though much better than having something 80cm deep sitting in the middle of the floor.

this was a very, very long post, but hopefully makes it clear that there's a surprisingly wide range of options, and they all have advantages and trade offs. if you're asking my opinion, my suggestion would be to try something—anything—with a backstrap setup and see how you feel about it. maybe you love it and keep at it forever, in which case you're in good company: there are entire cultures that weave exclusively on backstrap looms.

if you like producing cloth but don't love the backstrap setup, or don't like using your body to tension the warp, you have a lot of other options, and you're out maybe ten dollars of dowels.

personally, my next loom is probably going to be a pin loom. unless i win lotto, in which case it's going to be a house that has a weaving studio and like four floor looms in it. but probably a pin loom.

#weaving #i really hope that this was helpful #i get so excited about solving problems that i sometimes go way too hard #but i love thinking about this kind of thing #sorry for infodumping #also weaveblr i didn't forget about warp weighted looms i just don't think that they're super practical #admittedly i am biased by sharing my house with three cats #but also all the learning to weave content is...not on those #if it weren't for the cats my next loom would be warp weighted tho #fibercrafts #fiber art #textiles #smartest raccoon i know #(it's an ironic tag)

[fab-bladesmith]

A Schlachtschwert, early XVIth century.

Spring steel blade of flat hexagonal section for most its length, mild steel fittings with hollow brass ball finials on the cross. Leather over thread over wooden core for the grip, and leather over wood for the sleeve (more about that below). This is a tentative reconstruction of what a "proper" Landsknecht Greatsword could look like, such a they appear on period artwork, be it paintings like the Siege of Alesia by Melchior Feselen (1533) or the Battle of Pavia kept at the Royal Armouries (or the tapestries depicting that same battle, now at the Museo Capodimonte, made after sketches by Bernard van Orley), the Victory of Charlemagne over the Avars near Regensburg by Albrecht Altdorfer (1518), or the many drawings, prints and woodcuts by artists such as Reinhart von Solms, Jörg Breu, the great Hans Burgkmair, Niklas Stör, Hans Holbein (both Elder and Younger), Virgil Solis, Hans Sebald Beham, the legendary Urs Graf, Daniel Hopfer, Erhard Schön, Hans Schäufelein and others...All of them combined to give this result.

Such swords would be seen not only in the hands of a Doppelsoldner, but also carried by your Feldwaybel or an Edelman. And it would be called a Schlachtschwert in the very captions of the illustrations I mentioned earlier (see Erhard Schön). *Not* a "two-handed Katzbalger", though the cross obviously echoes the S/8-shaped guard of the latter. We clear on that ? Good.

Very few of such swords are kept in museums out there, with a lot of them leaving me dubious regarding their authenticity. The one in Berlin seems to me to be the most genuine of all, and it is on its proportions that I based this piece, though the Berlin sword shows a fancy, diamond-pattern decoration on the quillions very much recalling the Katzbalger kept in the Museum of London. Most if not all period illustration do not show such fancy details on the crossguards though ; they are actually rather plain, without even the ribbing/threading/filework you can find on Katzbalger crosses. Hence I kept this one rather plain, with a square cross section with rounded corners, and some light filework at the center. I also bent the quillions into an offset 8-shape rather than a symmetrical one, to be more consistant with the earlier examples visible in period artwork.

The main questioning was that sleeve at the base of the blade, present on a lot of the period artwork; its obvious function was to provide a spot on which to put the other hand - as can be deduced from Marozzo's teachings for fighting against polearms - but the main issue was how was it made/what was it made of. Elaborating on my previous experience and studies of such things on later Schlachtschwerter, I went for a basic construction of leather glued/stitched over a wood core made of two flat slabs, and force-slid down the blade. There is more than enough friction to keep it well in place, but it is still possible to take it off albeit with some effort. The end of the leather is cut according to period artwork, and flares out to accommodate the mouth of a scabbard if needed. A simple decoration of plain lines on one side, and checkered on the other makes it also consistant with the artwork.

It is 139 cm long, the blade is 1083 mm long, 45 mm wide with a thickness of about 7 mm at its base, tapering down to 3.4 mm near the point. The span of the crossguard is about 21 cm, though from one ball end to the other there's about 73 cm of steel. Weight is 2547 grams, point of balance 13.5 cm from the cross.

Twenty-eight hundred EuroUnits and it's yours.

#Sword #Epee #Historical #Historique #Available #Disponible

[cowboyheyxu]

a continuation of this post (not really)

"you're cutting it wrong," you stand on the tip of your toes to oversee dan heng in the kitchen.

he turns his head back to you, dropping the knife in his hands, "then enlighten me: how do i cut this pomegranate?"

you swat your hands, shooing dan heng away from the cutting board. it's another late night under the dim kitchen lights, and you two are both hungry. what better ways to solve your problems other than eating fruit at ungodly hours of the morning?

you hold the knife up and then slowly bring it down to the pomegranate. you score the top of it five times, each cut formulating a hexagonal shape. you set the knife down and then hold up the pomegranate for dan heng to see.

"you're gonna cut it five times on top," you shove the fruit in his face so he could see. you reach your fingers under the parts of the partially cut pomegranate, "then you're gonna reach your fingers in and pull the cut part off," you yank the top of the pomegranate off and throw it into the trash.

"your turn," you hand him the pomegranate. your fingers are covered in pomegranate juice. dan heng hesitates to grab the messy fruit out of your hands, but nonetheless, he does so anyway.

"you still haven't showed me how to cut the rest of it," he deadpans, setting the fruit down on the cutting board.

you sigh, getting behind dan heng, "okay," you let out long exhale, "i'll show you."

dan heng waited for you to stand next to him and demonstrate how to make incisions in the fruit. imagine his surprise when you grabbed his hands from behind, and put hands on top of his. your grip was tight; you were not going to let go. on the other hand, dan heng could barely control his grip.

dan heng was silence while you spoke, "when you cut open the pomegranate, you're gonna align your cuts with the white membrane," you grab his right hand and angle it where the white parts are. dan heng feels like his hands have turned to mush, "and we're just going to do a quick slice."

at this point, you're still doing most of the cutting. you guide dan heng's hand gently down the fruit, though still making a deep enough cut in the pomegranate. dan heng can barely feel his own hand as he's too focused on yours. how they feel against his; the way they are so gentle whilst cutting something; the way your touch was light on top of his hands. his heart was skipping multiple beats right now, and he hopes that you couldn't tell how shallow his breathing is from the back.

"that wasn't so bad," dan heng can feel you smile. your voice is soft: it's not as loud in comparison to other nights. maybe it was because of the intimate moment, or perhaps it was because you felt as breathless as dan heng.

no, that was definitely not it. dan heng internally facepalmed himself for thinking a thought like that.

"yeah," he mumbled, holding the pomegranate to the cutting board. you removed your hands from his, and now you stood next to him instead of behind him. dan heng tried to focus on the incisions instead of your hands. it didn't work out.

dan heng's cuts were not like yours. they were not angled, nor were they as deep. they were shallow and uneven: the sight made you and dan heng cringe.

as dan heng makes a few slits into the fruit, you begin to notice that they weren't exactly... steady.

"you want me to cut it?" you peer over his shoulder.

"no." yes. he now understands your frustrations with the oranges.

"let me help you," you reach for his hands once again, but dan heng pulled away. dan heng doesn't know why he did that, because he still really wanted your hands on top of his again. he pretends that his heart didn't drop as you pulled away from him as well.

you came back though, this time more stubborn than ever, "if you cut it like that, all the seeds are gonna uneven and half cut. you have to cut it along the white parts."

"isn't that what i'm doing?" dan heng mutters, sounding slightly disgruntled.

"no," you shoot back, "you're cutting on like, halfway on the white membrane. i don't even know how you do that," you crane your neck to observe dan heng's cutting skills, and he begins to feel slightly self-conscious. do you seriously think it's that bad?

"i can handle it myself," dan heng struggled to make another cut. this was getting embarrassing.

"i can help⎯" you tried to reach out for his hand again, but you were met with something else.

"i got it," dan heng exasperated, accidentally waving the knife towards your direction and striking your finger. it happened fast: you turned and then the knife sliced your finger.

horror painted dan heng's face. his eyes immediately widened and he didn't know whether he could reach out to your or not. there was red surrounding your thumb, and dan heng felt his heart drop all the way down to his feet. his hold on the knife dropped, and the metal clattered onto the cutting board.

you, however, didn't seem so affected. you only narrowed your eyes at your thumb, looking at it with more curiosity than horror. dan heng was terrified. why weren't you lashing out at him? were you going to leave? he did that. he hid his hands behind his back to hide the fact that they were slightly trembling. but when his hands brushed over each other, all he could think about was you.

you held your thumb up close to your eye again. within a moment, you've sucked all the blood off of your thumb.

wait⎯what?

"pomegranate juice," you held your spotless thumb up in the light. you didn't say anything else, and simply stared at dan heng's upset expression.

he doesn't say anything else. he doesn't pick up the knife or the pomegranate, and he just stares at your thumb. his hands are still behind his back, and so you desperately want to take them into yours. but dan heng looks different. he wasn't relaxed like he usually was on nights like these. he looked frightened.

"hey," your voice lulls dan heng out of his trance, as his attention and his eyes fly right back to you, "it was an accident. things like these happen," you show your thumb one more time, turning it so that dan heng can see he didn't injure you.

"i'm not mad. well, i actually don't know if i should be offended or not. you seriously thought a fruit knife would be able to hurt me?" you joked, "and even if it did, i'd get a bandaid." you opened the drawer filled with first aid kit supplies and watched as dan heng's face relaxed. his shoulders were less tense and upright; and his breathing slowed. and in turn, you felt more at ease as well.

"if i did hurt you though⎯" dan heng began, but you cut him off. a habit of yours that dan heng usually chides you about, however, he keeps quiet today.

"you didn't," you butt in, "and if you did, no worries. it was an accident. accidents happen all the time," you pause your sentence, tucking your hands in your pockets, "and i'm sorry by the way. for invading your personal space. i should've backed off."

"you don't have to apologize," a part of dan heng still feels bad about the entire situation. he doesn't want to let it go so easily.

you, however, have the exact opposite idea, "whatever," you nonchalantly shrug, "all water under the bridge now, right?" you smile at him. it's not a grin, or one of your usual smirks, but rather, it's small. it's hopeful, like you're wishing for everything to turn out fine. and with just one look, dan heng reassures you that it will be. he replicates your smile, squeezing one of his hands behind his back. when he sees your lips get wider, he feels as though his heart begins to throb as well.

"yeah. water under the bridge."

"great!" you clap your hands together, "so... you wanna finish cutting that? i'm starving."

dan heng chuckles. it was if the mood had never receded, and everything was fine, "i'll finish it," dan heng swallows before adding this next part, "only if you help."

he has never seen you beam as much as you did. dan heng never believed in the phrase, "light up a room," but he believes in you. and he believes that the room felt ten times as bright that night.

instead of getting behind him, you stand beside him. your hands are over his again as you guide him once more. your hands are not forceful or ridgid, despite the incident beforehand. they're gentle and loose, allowing room for dan heng to be able to cut by himself. dan heng tried to fight the small smile forming on his face as you two make more cuts into the fruit, together. the feeling of your hand over his was exhilarating. he could even describe it as perfect, but he realized that would probably be going too far. you two are still friends, after all.

you two work together to get the seeds out of the pomegranate, each of you getting a half and using different methods to remove the seeds. you opted for smacking them out with a wooden spoon, while dan heng insisted on taking them out by portions. yours was the more efficient (but loud) way. after a few minutes, dan heng found himself smacking the fruit as well. it's a mystery how the both of you didn't manage to wake up the entire express with the sound of fruit smacking.

finally, after what felt like hours of hitting (it was only thirty minutes), you two finally had a bowl full of pomegranate seeds. you sighed out of relief, rubbing your juice stained forearms on your forehead. dan heng recoiled.

"you know you just got a ton of juice on your forehead, right?"

you shrugged once again, "i was gonna wash my face after this anyway," you looked down at your arms, "maybe i'll take another shower too."

dan heng looked down at his own hands, which, were noticeably messier due to his first approach. when he looked back up, he saw you staring at his hands also. after you've been noticed, your eyes snapped back to his instantly, trying to ignore his hands.

"you should wash your hands," you lifted yourself up so that you would be sitting on the counter, nearby the sink, "told you my way was easier."

"your way was going to wake up all the express members, as well as any other neighboring planets," dan heng quipped, wiping off his fingers on a spare paper towel. he would need to rinse of his hands a few times though, since his fingers were practically stained pink.

"well then, we could have gave them some seeds as a peace offering," you pointed towards the bowl.

dan heng nodded, but he didn't want to share his pomegranate seeds with anyone else. was it so selfish to keep something just between two people? and after all this hard work he put in to get the seeds out as well.

"alright, i'm hungry," you rinse your hands and dry them off on your shorts, "shoot some seed in me!!" you proudly exclaimed.

dan heng's face dropped. he has never looked so absolutely mortified than he has in this moment. his jaw dropped⎯literally dropped. his eyes bulged out of his face as he saw you open your mouth and point inside. he blinked multiple times to confirm whether or not this was a dream.

it was not. you actually said this.

dan heng slapped a hand to his forehead, dragging it down the rest of his face. you were confused at his appalled expression. you just wanted to catch some pomegranate seeds in your mouth.

finally, dan heng sighed, hiding his face from you under his hand, "do you ever think before saying these things?" he asked, embarrassed.

and then, it hit you: the implications of what you had just said. but rather than doubling over in humiliation, dan heng heard you double over in laughter. chaotic, unhinged, loud laughter. you had to cover your mouth to contain your endless giggles, and dan heng was unsure if you were the embarrassed one here.

you bit your lip to hold in the rest of your (escaping) laughter, "i⎯" you could barely get one word out without laughing again, "i can't! i'm sorry⎯i didn't⎯" more laughter ensues, and dan heng finds that a smile of his own was forming, "wow," you finished, wiping tears from your eyes.

"okay," you took a deep breath, restraining the rest of your giggles, "first, i said seeds. like, plural. i wasn't gonna cut an entire pomegranate and then just eat one seed."

dan heng jumped in, "you said seed. singular."

"hm, actually i think i said seeds." dan heng gave up. there was no point in justifying this with you.

you let out another snort, "second, i have to tell you dan heng, you sure have a dirty mind."

dan heng's eyebrows rise up, "me? you were the one who told me to 'shoot some seed' in you!" he reveled. his statement only sent you into more laughter. dan heng was unimpressed.

"i clearly said seeds⎯"

"you didn't."

"anyway," you brush off his claims, “about your raunchy brain,” you teased, poking his head with your finger.

“i do not have a ‘raunchy brain.’”

“sure,” you said slowly. dan heng felt his sanity slipping through him, “have you been reading the romance novels i lent you? because that would definitely explain the raunchy brain.”

dan heng doesn’t fight against your arguments anymore, knowing his efforts would go in vain. so he says something else, “no, i haven’t. i’ve locked them in book jail,” he grabs a handful of pomegranates and eats them.

you look dumbfounded, and dan heng finds a small victory, “book jail?!?”

“book jail.”

your jaw is slack, “what is book jail??”

“books that should be locked up in jail,” dan heng says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“first of all, those books are actually really good,” you popped a few pomegranate seeds in your mouth before you continued, “second of all, you belong in a real jail for putting my books in ‘book jail,’” you followed with air quotations.

as you reached into the bowl of pomegranates seeds, you felt dan heng’s hand reach in there at the same time. your hand was above his once again. you resisted the urge to pull away, resorting to putting your hand underneath his to grab the jewels of the fruit.

dan heng opened his mouth to say something, but he was caught off guard when you threw a seed in his direction. it hit his cheek, and luckily didn’t leave a stain on there. but he looked towards you to find your shit-eating grin.

he threw a seed in your direction, only for you to catch it with your mouth. dan heng then realizes that is what you probably meant with shooting seeds, but he chooses to disregard it for now.

you two engage in the game of throwing pomegranate seeds in the other’s mouth. so far, you’re winning because you’ve caught the most seeds in your mouth. however, to your dismay, dan heng is catching up.

you claim it’s because of his height and because he was standing, but dan heng brings up the fact that you’re technically taller than him because you are sitting on the counter. you have no comment.

dan heng has moved closer to you during the game. he went from standing a few feet away to now only being a few inches away from your face. sure, it made the game unfair since the both of you were so close to each other.

but why would you two focus on that when your hands were nearly touching? when your faces were close enough that you could make out every detail on dan heng’s delicate face. you could notice every expression: every time his eyes narrowed out of determination, or widened out of victory. he was utterly endearing.

eventually, the claws of sleep hinged onto the both of you.

“sorry,” you yawned, clasping a hand over your mouth, “i forgot to tell you that pomegranates make you sleepy,” you rubbed your eyes.

you put your hand down on the counter, not acknowledging the fact that you placed it right on dan heng’s. but in your sleepy daze, you couldn’t seem bothered to care. and who was dan heng to wake you from your trance?

for once, his hand relaxed under your touch. no more tensing beforehand, or any shock when your fingers brushed on top of his. for now, he let it be. and it feels good. it feels amazing. he let the warmth of your hands envelope the chill of his. just for tonight, he can indulge in what is you.

“you go to bed first,” dan heng helped you off the counter, holding the hand that was on top of his to guide you back down, “i’ll clean up,” he whispered.

“what?” you uttered, staring up into dan heng’s eyes. your eyes were half-lidded and looked like they were about to close any second now.

“let’s go,” dan heng put on hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the back of your room like how you guided his hands earlier. he put a hand on your arm just in case you passed out on him.

once you got to your door, dan heng let you go. your body craved his warmth, even if your mind was out of it.

“goodnight,” he let go of you, “please don’t dream about seeds.”

you let out a quiet chuckle, “i won’t. don’t dream about anything dirty,” you taunted.

dan heng playfully rolls his eyes as he lets you go. he grabs a hold of his hand once again, and tries to feel the familiarity of your touch.

it seems, he misses you already.

bonus:

later that night, dan heng puts moves one of his books from his makeshift bed. it's the romance novel you lent to him; he was reading it before he met up with you. he lets out a long sigh as he collapses onto the bed, sprawling his limbs everywhere. he does one thing before he goes to bed that night: he places his left hand over his right, and tries to recreate the feeling of your hand on top of his once again. it does not feel the same. he groans and flops his arm across his face, feeling slightly more frustrated than before.

unbeknownst to him, you sat in your bed that night, staring at the empty space on your bookshelf. you had kept your romance novels on that space⎯before you lended them to dan heng, of course⎯and now they were in "book jail." you huffed, thinking about dan heng yet again. you laid down on your bed, spreading your limbs out across the mattress, and held your hand up in the air. you placed your right hand over your left, attempting to recreate what happened tonight. you even went so far as to interlocking them, and wishing it was dan heng's hand under yours. it did not feel the same. you grabbed one of your pillows, shoved your face into it, and let out a morbid groan. somehow, it feels that you're more frustrated now than before.

#dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #they r so silly #and cute #cowboyheyxu.archive

[the-egg]

So This is Love

Song Fic: So this is love - Ilene Woods, Mike Douglas

Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Summary: "you can fix him" except he fixes you too.

Tags: Mild cursing, trauma bonding, strangers to lovers, fluff

Words: 9.8k

Loving Miguel was the greatest choice your heart had ever made, and you swore your life on it. Normalcy was a temporary feeling for masked heroes, but, together with him, it bloomed to be everlasting. The sun to your moon. Together, you would learn to find peace.

Before being a part of the exhilarating world of Spider Society, you lived two lives. Two exhausting lives. During the day, you worked for the government as a public defense attorney. Long hours and a terrible work-life balance were your normal lifestyle. Then, two years ago, you were bitten by a radioactive spider that belonged to the same government you worked for. Since then, you’ve been the world’s one and only spider. The Spider, to be specific. You didn’t choose the name, much like how you didn’t choose to get bit, but at least you got to choose the suit! A shining white with silver webbed streaks across your chest. You preferred Spider-Moon or Moon-Spider as your name, but The Spider had already stuck. Much like how you were stuck patrolling the city at night, every night.

On this night in particular, nothing was out of the ordinary. You leaped from rooftop to rooftop, keeping a watchful eye on all the people you'd sworn to protect.

So, wouldn’t you believe your luck?

One day you were out patrolling in the late hours of the night when the full moon shined brighter than the street lights. While criminal activity was surprisingly low tonight, your senses kept you on guard. Scaling to the top of a building, you stood on the edge as you looked down below. Everyone was now just tiny ants. Tiny ants that were under your protection. There was one ant, though, that caught your eye—someone you couldn’t quite grasp whether you were supposed to protect or attack.

You peered down below, focusing on a dark alleyway that had begun to glow into a rather large hexagonal shape, a tall silhouette making its way through the light.

"Probably not a good guy," you said quietly to yourself, both hands on your hips, waiting ever so impatiently for this mystery to make an appearance.

===

"Hey, Miguel, check this out," Lyla called out from across the platform. "I found another good one for ya!"

The man in question sighed, not removing his eyes from a video of his latest anomaly capture. Despite his team's success, they still lacked in numbers. After discovering the vast concept of the multiverse, and learning from his catastrophic mistake, he needed to expand his team of spiders to keep the multiverse safe and in balance. Naturally, he couldn’t accept just anyone; he needed people he could trust not to abuse their power. People who could make the quick decision to save the lives of 100 people over the lives of one important person.

"If ‘good’ means recruiting another Spider-Plush, then I’m not interested," he replied, his tone flat. Lyla popped up next to Miguel with a smirk on her pixelated face.

"Aww, come on! Just take a peek!"

"No."

"This relationship isn’t gonna work if you’re not willing to compromise." Lyla crossed her arms to solidify her point, yet the smirk still remained.

Miguel’s eye twitched as he ran a hand over his mouth. When he said he wanted an AI with a smart mouth, he didn’t mean this. Nevertheless, it’s what he’s got, and she’s too important for Miguel to boss her around. He finally averted his eyes and looked at Lyla’s screen.

It wasn’t a Spider-Plush, which was a plus, but it wasn’t Peter Parker from the LEGO dimension, which was a minus.

The Spider

Earth 5863

"’The Spider’? That’s a stupid name," Miguel commented, crossing his arms.

"You know what I think is stupid?" Lyla said as she narrowed her eyes at the tall brood. The brood in question made a noise of disapproval. "The name ‘arachno-humanoid polymultiverse,’ but yeah, you know exactly what things sound stupid."

He turned his head to stare at Lyla, unsmiling and unblinking. The AI responded with a Cheshire smile. Taking a breath, Miguel turned his head to the screen.

All Canon Events Completed

Special Abilities…

The list droned on about the usual abilities that came with the title: enhanced speed, strength, hearing, agility, etc. Until the list came to one ability that wasn’t as common: shadow manipulation. No one else in the spider society had such an ability. This person could actually be useful.

"Lyla," Miguel commanded, "I need you to expand on this one. What can they do with this?" He pointed out the unusual ability on the list.

"Oh, so now you’re interested in who I have picked out? They can do, like, shadowy things." Lyla motioned with her hands as if imitating what a shadow was capable of. "Ya know, be one with the shadow? Kinda freaky how the atoms in their body can just go—poof! They can change their shape if they try really, really hard, though, but I wouldn’t rely on it."

Miguel had to hold back an eye roll at her unprofessionalism, but the information she provided always hit the mark.

Having The Spider on the team could be incredibly beneficial on stealth missions, especially since no one would expect them to be hiding in plain sight. Mission casualties could drop, and anomalies could be captured faster. For once in the ever-growing stress of Miguel’s life, he could feel the burden of maintaining the multiverse lighten on his shoulders. He just needed to recruit them and hope that you wouldn’t give him a hard time.

===

So this is love?

When you saw the 6’9”, absolutely stunning figure of someone walking through what you assumed to be a portal, you were wishing they weren’t a bad guy. The suit was mostly blue, save for the red lines outlining certain features of his body. Standing on the ledge, you observed as he looked at his surroundings, seemingly looking for something or someone.

Without even having to determine on your own whether they were a friend or foe (which, in your universe, anyone who had powers tended to be a foe), it hit you. The spider-sense. Connecting and flowing with a stranger you would come to realize wouldn’t be much of a stranger to you anymore.

They were like you. You weren’t alone anymore.

Feeling the same sensation, the stranger's head snapped up to see you.

===

When Miguel felt your presence, your connection, he quickly looked up to meet your gaze. As soon as his eyes saw you, his breath hitched. He felt his heart pound for a quick second before calming back down. Being taken aback by a new spider was never something that he did. Sure, the disappointment he felt when meeting Peter B. Parker was a notable first impression he had, but this wasn’t like that.

In the nearly pitch-black sky above him, you were glowing. The moon behind you gave you a soft white hue as the stars glimmered at your side. You controlled the night. Your confidence. Your power. You were in your element.

And he was about to pull you out of it.

"Moon-Spider would have been a better name," he thought to himself, quickly blinking so he could get back into his no-nonsense, super-serious mindset that everyone just loved so much. As quickly as he refocused, you had left your position at the top of the building, confusing Miguel only for a moment as you appeared in front of him. His eyes followed you as you materialized into the light of the streetlamp, holding his gaze.

"You’re like me!" you lilted, taking confident yet careful steps toward him. "Are you… from here?" You peered at him through your mask, taking careful note of his hands and feet in case he was ready to strike.

"I’m not,” the stranger replied, his voice sending a warm chill down your spine. 

“I figured. Well, I’m The Spider. You might have heard of me before, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you…” you trailed your words, hoping that this stranger would fill in and introduce himself. 

“I’m Spiderman, and I’m from a different dimension.” 

Your posture went slack as you cocked a brow at this wannabe Spider. He couldn’t see your expression, but it was the thought that counted. 

“If I wasn’t so tired right now, I would humor you, but last I checked, multiple dimensions haven’t been discovered. Besides, I haven’t heard of anyone talking about a Spiderman roaming the streets.”

The stranger sighed and pinched his brow before holding up his arm.

“You see this?” the man pointed at the watch on his wrist. “This device helps me travel throughout different dimensions. I’m from Earth 928, and this place is Earth 5863.”

“So that goober is supposedly transporting people into other dimensions?”

“Gizmo,” he corrected, “and it’s not just any people, it's Spider-people. People like us.”

Despite being skeptical about his story, you couldn’t deny that you felt the spider connection toward him. He couldn’t have been lying about that. 

“So, there’s more of you out there? More people like us?”

“Yes, I’m only one Spiderman out of the many we have back at headquarters.” 

You have to admit that it was shocking to know that multidimensional travel was possible, but to know that there were other spider people out there made your heart fill with glee. Being The Spider had taken a lot of sacrifices. Shoes that were only your size to fill. Having a friend in this could make those unbearable days bearable.

"Spiderman sounds better than The Spider. I’m jealous."

"That’s not the part you should be focusing on…"

"What? Is this whole visit to my dimension just business?"

Before he could finally get into his speech and proposition, an explosion was heard a few blocks over, followed by the sounds of several car alarms going off and the on-cue cat howling. Both heads snapped in the direction of the commotion before turning back toward one another. "Okay, now I have to go deal with my business." You pointed a thumb behind you as you started walking backward, away from him. "But I’ll be back in probably 5 to 10 minutes tops, so I’d love to hear all about this multiverse stuff when I come back!"

You didn’t wait for him to respond as you shot your webs out and swung away, leaving Miguel alone and a tad frustrated until-

"Hey," Lyla greeted as she popped up out of the fancy little gizmo, "You will never believe your timing! An anomaly has been reported here, and you’re already on the scene. Lucky you!" The sarcastic tone did nothing to bring Miguel joy, but he had a job to do nonetheless. He closed his watch and swung in your direction.

===

So this is what makes life divine?

Over a month had passed since your first interaction with Miguel and the rest of the spider society. To say you were overjoyed was an understatement. To say you were a bit overwhelmed was on point. Having this watch meant that you could finally form connections with people who understood you. They knew what it was like to live a double life. To feel like you couldn’t be friends with people knowing they only knew half of who you were.

They also knew what it was like to lose an uncle, but hey, who hadn’t here?

Despite this feeling of belonging, you felt uneven, unbalanced; it was like you were juggling three worlds. Your first life as a civilian involved dealing with caseloads on a day-to-day basis. Then, you go home in the evening to your second life: The Spider. Now, you’ve been convinced to take on a third: a member of the multidimensional spider society and one of Miguel’s best friends assets.

You were hesitant at first; your mind was muddled as he brought up this proposition while fighting your first anomaly in your dimension. Originally, you were against joining. Why would you spend your time fighting villains in other dimensions when you can already do that at home? That’s when he showed you his headquarters. Let’s just say you were more in it for the spider-people than you were for the crime-fighting, multiverse saving, and all that good heroic nobility.

This job came with a lot of sacrifice and your sleep schedule was gone to the wind, but at least you’re having fun! 

Multiple times a week, Miguel would send you off to fight anomalies, assist fellow spiders, and help him track and record dimensional disturbances. Solo missions became a rarity for you, something you only did back on Earth 5863. Now, you and Miguel would fight side by side with the occasional Jessica or Scarlet Spider.

Miguel was a bit of a brood; there was no doubt about it, but there were days when his face would drop and the hard lines around his face would soften. He was just like you—exhausted.

He’d make the perfect friend, and you were determined to make it happen!

Currently, you and Miguel are in another dimension. Another anomaly report. You’ve done this song and dance before.

Miguel would always go in head first. Let the anomaly think that there was only one spider there to stop them. You would blend in as best as you could, crawling from shadow to shadow and shooting out webs in the darkness to yank the anomaly in the direction of Miguel’s attack. As the song would come to an end, you’d make your appearance known when the villain of the week was a bit disoriented and weakened, and swiftly make a joint attack to knock them cold. The song was over. The two partners would bow and make their way to their next dance.

Today, though, you didn’t bow out.

"Hey," you called out as Miguel was about to make a portal, "let’s take a breather. It’s the last anomaly of the night, right?"

"I don’t have time for a breather," he denied, not even looking at you as he summoned a portal. "You did good today. Keep it up."

You frowned before quickly walking in front of him and placing your hand over his watch.

"You act like there are not around 100 people back at HQ who could easily take over for 5 minutes." You motioned over to the anomaly trapped and unconscious in the force field. "Besides, they’re not going anywhere anytime soon."

He didn’t say anything as he stared at you. Maybe he was death-glaring, but he was wearing a mask, so what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Plus, you didn’t break eye contact. It was a battle of wits, and you weren’t one to back down.

"The answer is still no."

"I’ll quit the team right now."

"No, you won’t."

You gave him a pointed glare, your hand slowly tightening around his wrist. Let him call your bluff; see what happens. While you wouldn’t actually do it, you could tell he had a little quirk about letting Lyla boss him around.

He stayed silent as he gently took his wrist away from you and set a five-minute timer on his gizmo.

"5 minutes only," he agreed in defeat. You smiled at him. He couldn’t see the smile through the mask, but it was the effort that counted.

"Perfect! We’ll be back at HQ before you start to get homesick. Come on." You motioned with one hand as you shot a web onto the rooftop of a building with the other. He muttered something in Spanish that you couldn’t catch but reluctantly followed you onto the roof. Watching you as you sat on the edge with your legs dangling, he wondered why the hell he decided to listen to you. To let you drag him around as if you knew him like you were friends.

You knew nothing about him.

As the silence filled the air around you, he sat down next to you, giving himself a considerable amount of space. He heard you sigh as you took off your mask, allowing yourself to truly breathe after the day you'd had. He followed your motions. Despite his annoyance with your request, he wasn’t fully opposed to it. Throughout your short interactions together since you started working with him, he could tell that you shared more in common with him than he would have liked. You were constantly busy. If you weren’t patrolling the night or stopping an anomaly, you were contacting clients and reviewing dockets. Your brain was a lightbulb that was never shut off until it was so hot it could burst, so when you insisted that you both take a break, he knew you meant it. He knew you were asking if he could switch off your light and you to his.

Two heroes, unmasked, sat side by side, quietly watching the sun slowly rise in the cool air.

To him, it felt nice not having a marathon of thoughts in his head, and he was glad he wasn’t alone. At the thought of your presence next to his, he turned his head and—

His thoughts came to a halt.

Even with the sun slowly making its presence known above the horizon, he could have sworn the moon was still shining right next to him. As much as he hated to admit it, he thought you were absolutely stunning.

He cleared his throat, catching your attention as you averted your gaze from the sun.

"Did you pick the name The Spider?" he asked, his voice quiet as if any louder would break the peace. You hummed as a smile grew on your lips.

"Nope," you denied, shaking your head slowly as the exhaustion crept up on you. "I would never pick a name that had the word ‘the’ in it, but it’s not like I could get a say in it."

"We don’t get a choice in any of it. The title and the powers."

"Yup." Your eyes went downcast, unfortunately being reminded of what awaited you back in your dimension. The unbearable responsibility. The sleepless nights. Now wasn’t the time to think about stress and work, though. You looked back up at Miguel. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, silently shutting off the timer before it reached its end.

"I always thought Moon-Spider suited you better."

===

I’m all aglow.

It was Saturday on Earth 5863, or midday to be more specific. Despite the rest of the world already up and tackling the day, your life as the masked hero didn’t end until 4 A.M. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how tired you were because your body refused to be dormant past 11 in the morning. You groaned, burying your head in your hands, trying to comprehend why your body wouldn’t just rest. As much as you’d like to sink in and become one with your bed all day, your social battery was empty, and so was your stomach. Your sleep was going to have to wait.

During the week, you didn’t have much time to get yourself a proper lunch, mainly just a quickly made sandwich or salad that you’d have to chow down on during a quick lunch break. This made it a struggle to really treat yourself, but you knew just the treat you’d like today.

After stretching your aching muscles, you slid out of bed and got ready for a trip through the multiverse.

===

You walked through the doors of HQ, adorning your suit without the mask and greeting every Spider as you briskly made your way to the cafeteria.

"Hey, Jess," you greeted, catching her eye as she walked in the opposite direction. "Is Miguel in his office?"

"Yup, he’s been there all night. Are you gonna go and bother him?"

"Not today, I might feed him, though. Maybe water him and give him some sunshine while I’m at it."

Jess giggled, committing to the bit, "Well, the kitchen just made a fresh batch of empanadas if you wanna give him some fertilizer."

You hummed happily with her as you carried on down the hall, desperately rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Aside from getting a small box of empanadas, you learned that their hamburgers were now made with buns that looked like Miguel’s mask.

"It’s probably a courtesy to that nice ass," you thought to yourself. Although you would never voice that thought out loud, Miguel was handsome; he was most definitely your type, and you knew that from the moment you met him. The way he acted, though, seemed so defensive, like he couldn’t trust anyone. While you enjoyed your regular rooftop breaks with him, you couldn’t help but want more.

On the other hand, Miguel didn’t know what he needed from you; he just liked it when you were near him. Whether you guys were fighting or sitting in silence. When he was with you, he felt like he had permission to loosen up a bit. Although he would never voice that thought out loud, the last thing he needed was to feel an attachment to someone who wasn’t his…

Nevertheless, one box of empanadas and two Miguel burgers later, you were off to his office.

When you arrived, Miguel was staring off into the multitude of screens around him on his platform. You knocked on the frame of the threshold before webbing yourself up onto the platform. He turned his head in your presence.

"Morning," he greeted, his tired eyes shifting back to the screens.

"Afternoon," you corrected, emphasizing the time difference. "Long night?"

This time, Miguel turned his whole body toward you, leaning back against the desk to give you his full attention. At this angle, you could see the eyebags forming on his face.

"You have no idea."

You shrugged, your own eyes just as exhausted as his.

"Try me," you encouraged as you tossed him an empanada. "Was it Hobie again?"

"It’s always Hobie!" he exclaimed as he threw his hands up in frustration, catching the empanada in the process. "Two weeks into this, and he’s managed to get sidetracked from his missions 10 times! Instead of going after the anomaly, he went after the corporate head of some phone company. Can you believe him?"

You nodded as he continued his rant but looked around the platform for a good place to set your lunch. Eyeing a small swivel chair near Miguel, you put the food there before leaning back against the desk. The ranting man continued his complaint, but you could practically see the stress rolling off his shoulders as his posture relaxed. You never really minded being a listening ear for him, especially when he let you both have a moment to relax after the pressure of it all. It was a silent, yet mutual, agreement between you and him. To rest together. To be just a bit normal together. Even if it’s the small things like having a quick lunch or taking a somewhat silent break that always lasted more than five minutes.

"I swear if he blows a hole into the multiverse next week... I don’t even know what I’m going to do," Miguel concluded, absolutely exasperated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath before looking up at you, wanting to shine the spotlight on you. "That’s my life, I guess. What’s been going on with you? You look tired."

You took a bite of your burger before responding, "More or less than usual?"

"More."

"Damn. Well, before I start, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Are there any universes where Doc Ock is MD rather than Ph.D.?"

"There might be a few, why?" Miguel cocked his brow at you.

"Because now I have to find a new physician." Hearing your news, Miguel’s eyes went wide as he leaned in a bit closer.

"Your physician was Doc Ock?" Miguel asked as his voice raised an octave.

"Doc fucking Ock," you confirmed, putting emphasis on the added middle name. "I had a fight with her the night before my appointment and finally caught her the next day." You finished off your burger and tossed your trash dramatically into the bin next to you. Miguel had a small smile on his face, finding your suffering just as amusing as you found his.

"How did you not catch on that your doctor was Dr. Octavius? It’s in the name!"

"She went by her married name!" you defended yourself with a smile on your face before sighing. "We’re too tired for this shit."

"Now, that I can agree with." On cue, Miguel yawned.

"At least I’m not as tired as you."

"Doubt it. Have you seen yourself?"

"Have you?" You leaned forward. "It’s like you’re moving in slow motion over there."

Miguel just scoffed, not believing your accusation.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed, with sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"It doesn’t matter anyway. Just eat your burger already; it’s probably cold now."

You motioned to the food still sitting on the chair next to him. Without turning to look, he reached a hand over to grab his lunch, confident in his aim. You watched, without a single bit of energy left to move, as he missed and hit the chair. Miguel turned to look, just as unmoving as you, and watched as the chair rolled off the high platform.

Both of you peeked your heads over to watch its descent. You turned to look at Miguel.

“So are you going to catch it or…?” you trailed as you looked back down to the swiftly descending meal. Miguel blinked once, then twice. 

“Oh shit–”

It was too late. The chair and delicious food landed with a loud clatter on the ground far below.

The two of you look at the wreckage. Neither of you said anything. Neither of you even thought to web the chair as it made its descent; you were too tired to realize that you guys had the ability to stop it and simply accepted fate.

Slowly, you both turned to each other. You had to put a fist to your mouth, trying to stop the rolling laughter bubbling inside of you.

"Don’t laugh," Miguel threatened, pointing a finger at you, but seeing you try and hold it in caused a smile to bloom on his face. "It’s not funny."

"But you—" You quickly put a hand back over your mouth to stop a laugh— "I'm sorry." You laughed again before shaking your head. "You’re right, that’s not funny. It’s actually very… sad." Your lip quivered as you tried your hardest not to upset him by laughing again despite seeing the smile on his face.

Miguel turned to look back at his lunch. The top bun with his mask was resting on an exploded empanada. The urge to laugh began bubbling inside of him, but he refused to give in. He wasn’t the kind of guy to laugh at silly little things.

You followed his gaze and pointed at the bun.

"Imagine being that guy," you said, your voice breaking. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, and neither could you. Both of you started giggling quietly, gradually growing into full laughter. Miguel couldn’t tell if it was because you both were so utterly exhausted, but to him, this was the hardest he had ever laughed since he lost his daughter, and you didn’t have a clue. Neither of you could stop gasping for air, and you had to place a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself. He placed a hand on your shoulder so you two wouldn’t topple over, leaning close to you as the laughter kept rolling out.

As the humor died down and your eyes met his, the smiles on your faces continued to bloom. No matter how extraordinary the circumstances of this situation, for a moment, you two felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time: normal.

===

And now I know.

Something wasn’t right today. For once, your workload was light, and your patrol was more of a peaceful midnight walk. When it came to your third, most preferable life, you knew there had been a shift. You were sent on a mission with a different group of spiders, Miguel not being one of them. Then, when you went back to HQ, no one had seen Miguel. Some spiders had joked that he had finally taken a day off, but you knew better than that. The only time he seemed to ever take a break was when he was forced to, and not even Peter B. knew where he was!

The only information you could get out of Peter was,

"Today is not a good day for him," Peter grimaced. "It’s probably best to let him be."

"Why? What happened?" you questioned as your brows furrowed.

"It’s not my place to say, bud. Sorry!"

You weren’t going to press Peter further, already gathering that whatever had happened was a sensitive topic to discuss, but there was one thing you knew for sure. Miguel was alone. More importantly, Miguel struggled to take care of himself mentally and socially, and he struggled even more to admit that to anyone.

Despite worrying that you may be overstepping your boundaries with him, you went into his empty office and asked Lyla to track him down for you. Again, you were met with resistance.

"I dunno if I should tell you," Lyla cautioned, shrugging her shoulders at you. "He told me not to tell anyone where he was going."

"And how often do you actually listen to his requests?" you argued, noting a serious change in Lyla’s tone. "I’d like to make sure Miguel is okay. He’s my friend."

Lyla cocked a brow at you, knowing full well how "friendly" you and Miguel seem to act around one another. Taking breaks to watch the sunrise and sunset while sitting less than a foot apart. Joking around with one another whenever the moment aroused. Grabbing a meal when you stopped by his office. Yeah, these were totally activities that Miguel does when he’s "just friends" with someone. She’s seen the looks you two give each other. Whether you realized it or not, you guys didn’t like each other just as friends. Not only that, but in the six months you had been here, there had been a change in the atmosphere around HQ. Miguel was smiling more, you were happier, and missions ran more smoothly with you two as a team.

So, fuck it. Miguel can yell at Lyla later if this all goes wrong.

"Fine," Lyla groaned, despite believing that sending you to Miguel was a good move. "Good luck."

===

Miguel sat on the rooftop of an Earth that wasn’t his own. The sun was on the cusp of setting as warm orange and pink colors slowly made an appearance in the darkening sky. He refused to meddle in this world, not even going down onto the streets to interact with anyone. Instead, he sat on the rooftop alone in his thoughts as he watched the people live their normal lives down below. Doing this made him feel alone, like an outcast undeserving of the simple pleasures life had to offer. In his mind, this feeling was what he deserved; the joy of simplicity wasn’t a concept he could keep in his life. For him, he needed this reminder of how he should feel after what he had done.

The sound of a portal opening could be heard behind him. Miguel immediately tensed; no one should be here. He turned his head, already glaring at the person who dared to track him down today. Unfortunately, it was you. His glare softened. No. No. NO. You could not be here. You can’t be here. Especially today…

You stood there silently, your mask off and your hands fidgeting, as you looked at him with your kind eyes. Even without words, you could practically feel the tension radiating off of him, but you could also see the look in his eyes. He was scared. Nervous even. You had to tread carefully. He was your friend, but there was still so much you didn’t know about him.

"I don’t know what you’re going through, Miguel," you started, your voice a touch quieter, "but I’m here for you."

He turned his head away from you, unable to tell you to go away. He wanted you here with him, but—

"I don’t deserve it," Miguel finally said, his voice level matching your own. You took his voice as a reason to move closer, sitting next to him on the rooftop.

"What don’t you deserve?"

"This." He motioned between the two of you. "I don’t deserve to have this kind of peace."

"Why?" Your eyes pleaded for an answer, knowing that he had the right to not tell you anything yet silently begging for him to open up to you. He didn’t answer as he continued to look down upon the crowds of people walking on the street, a hard expression glazing over his face. He was too nervous to admit to you what he had done in fear that you would leave after knowing how selfish he once was. You reached out one more time, placing a hand on his shoulder. At the warm contact, Miguel turned to look at you again. "Please," you begged. "You can be vulnerable with me, I promise."

He searched your eyes for a sliver of regret, an instance of a fruitless promise, but he found nothing. Sighing, he placed a hand over your own, his eyes finding security in yours.

"Understand that I regret what I’ve done, and the actions I took are inexcusable."

You nodded.

"I’m here for you," you reassured, trying to quell the tension choking the air around you two. Miguel squeezed your hand before you pulled away.

He told you everything.

What he did. When he did. Why he did it.

Your heart cracked inside your chest. It yearned to reach out and hold him. To tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That he couldn’t have known the consequences of breaking canon. This tragedy had become the driving force behind all that he did within the Spider Society. He’s exhausted because he felt he didn’t deserve to rest knowing he put the lives of an entire reality six feet under, including his daughter. The daughter that wasn’t really his. The daughter, the family, that he so desperately craved but felt he could never achieve in his own time.

Instead of an embrace, you told him everything that was running through your mind. You knew that his self-deprecating mindset was not something you could fix in this conversation, but you could push him in the right direction. Encourage him to go to one of the many therapists back at HQ, help take some of the blame off his shoulders, and remind him that he deserves and will find his own happiness and normalcy in his own life. In his own reality.

Miguel listened to every word you had to say, taking it more into consideration than he would have if it were someone else. As he continued to sit close to you, listening to your sweet voice, he felt his heart swell before realizing he was in deep trouble.

He was in love with you.

===

The key to all heaven is mine.

This mission was a shitshow.

Three Green Goblins, all from different dimensions, combined forces to try and carry out their mission here in your dimension. Even with Miguel’s help, you struggled to do your song and dance, and once your position was revealed way too early, you had to call for backup.

It was barely enough.

Jess and Peter B. were an enormous help, but the anomalies were too erratic with their movements; their lack of coordination, unfortunately, proved to be a solid strategy against the spiders. Miguel told everyone to split up and try to drag the Green Goblins away from one another, so you quickly got the attention of one and tried to maneuver them away. With your abilities, you normally relied on stealth to carry you through a mission; unfortunately, you were forced to face this villain head-on. Jessica was handling the one on the left, while Miguel and Peter were farther down the street.

It hurt like hell. You had been knocked into a building one too many times for your liking, but honestly, your pride was more bruised than your body. Thankfully, your little shadow disappearing act came in handy, allowing you to web your green fucker up nicely between two tall buildings. Admiring your handiwork for a mere second, you had to act fast and trap him before assisting the others.

"Watch out!" Miguel screamed from down the block, his voice practically vibrating the space around you. Quickly, you turned around as you saw a large shadow loom over your head, far too close for your liking. It was a semi.

Son of a—

===

Miguel watched from afar as the semi-truck crashed directly where you stood with a chilling crunch. His heart dropped to the bottom of his chest, and his eyes were fixed on the crash site.

He didn’t see you leave on time.

At that moment, something crushed inside of him; the adrenaline in his body pumped faster, and the ringing in his ears grew louder. His mind had forgotten about the mission. He couldn’t, not when you were...

He needed to get to you now. His senses slowly came back to him, but the weight in his chest still hung heavy.

"Fuck!" he cried, swinging to your location as fast as he could, not hesitating to start dragging the semi with all of his strength. Jessica and Peter came to assist as soon as they captured their anomalies; they couldn’t waste a second knowing that their teammate had been hurt, or worse.

Together, they pulled the semi away to reveal nothing.

You weren’t there.

Miguel was frantic. His eyes scanned the surrounding area, looking for a trace of your white suit. Still nothing. He called your name. His vision was blurred. He couldn’t find you anywhere. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even think. He called your name again.

Jess placed a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. He tensed at the contact.

"You keep searching for them. Peter and I will take care of the anomalies. Breathe, Miguel," she urged, trying to soothe the man who was losing himself in the depths of his mind. Her words meant nothing to him, not when he couldn’t even think straight. Despite his scattered mind, his eyes caught something—the white that had brought him so much comfort these past several months.

There, under the shadow of the semi, you emerged, a little roughed up but otherwise fine. You were alive.

"I’m sorry," you panted as you took off your mask. "Even in the shadows, I couldn’t find a way out from under the—"

He didn’t let you finish.

Moving quickly toward you, he took off his mask and pulled you tight against him. Arms wound around you in a tender, shaking embrace. He pressed his chest up against yours, desperate to feel your heartbeat and to give him more assurance that you were alive.

"Miguel?" you spoke, your voice soft as you were unable to do anything but hold him. "I’m sorry, did I scare you? I didn’t have time to swing out, so I had to go under." You pulled back slightly, feeling resistance from Miguel’s hold on you. Noticing the tears building up in his eyes that were looking through you, you placed a hand on his cheek. "Hey," you consoled, bringing him back to the present. "I’m okay."

Finally, he met your eyes fully, taking a couple controlled deep breaths like he had been practicing in the therapy sessions you urged him to go to. His hand came up to grasp the one on his cheek. He never wanted to go through this feeling again. He never wanted to let you go.

"Yeah…" he trailed, "I’m sorry I—" he sighed—"I didn’t mean to overreact like this. It’s just—"

"No," you asserted, not allowing him to downplay his emotions. "You didn’t overreact. I would have done the same thing if this had happened to you. Please don’t apologize." He hummed at your words, a small smile growing on his face. Turning his head, he kissed the inside of your palm; your heart fluttered at the contact.

"Cariño, you’re too good for me."

You smiled, your face heating up at his sudden affection. This man made your heart swoon over the simplest of things, and you made his heart go crazy. You both wanted more from each other, but you knew it was going to take time. It was going to take healing. As long as he continued to hold you with such tenderness and love that you could not compare, you knew you wouldn’t mind the wait. For now, though, you two would go back to HQ, side by side, and continue to save the multiverse.

You’ve waited this long to find someone you can be at peace with; a little more time wouldn’t hurt anybody.

===

My heart has wings.

And I can fly.

Exhausted couldn’t even begin to describe the state that you were in. The juggling act you had been doing for about a year now had started toppling over. Your work had gotten sloppy; you were constantly missing your targets on missions and somehow portaling to the wrong dimensions. The worst was when you nearly showed up late to a trial at work. Despite teetering on the edge of insanity, you still willed yourself to go to HQ, as you craved the comfort your friends could provide simply by talking to you. Even if it was during a mission.

This mission in particular was your breaking point.

It was just you and Miguel. The two of you were in a dimension you couldn’t remember the name of while fighting the next villain of the week. The sun was still shining brightly out on a Sunday afternoon, and it seemed like this earth was having a peaceful day until a comic book Prowler came crashing in.

The usual song and dance were done, and the Prowler was contained and ready for the Go-Home-Machine. There were a few minor flukes along the way, like missing a couple of webs and not having enough energy to stay inside a shadow for very long. All of which Miguel lightly scolded you for, but you found it to be more out of concern for your well-being than out of anger.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t take a nice, long break. There wasn’t a time in your life when you could relax for hours on end or do nothing for a whole weekend. There were always some tasks you had to do: grocery shopping, night patrolling, taking your car to the shop, missions, cases, house cleaning, laundry, and the list goes on and on and on. It was ruthless and never-ending.

"It’s still pretty early," Miguel noted as he picked up the unconscious Prowler. "How about we grab some lunch when we head back?" You weren’t focused on him, though.

The fight had taken place at a nature center with beautiful forestry and vast trails throughout the area. Your enhanced senses picked up on someone in the distance in the parking lot.

You.

A version of you who was getting out of the same car you drove. Eyebags were nonexistent. Your body glowed and radiated with energy and joy. It was like looking at the sun. There you were, happy, content, and normal, hanging out with friends on a Sunday afternoon in a nature center. You held no secrets about a double life. No hint of exhaustion. There is no looming worry about upcoming stress.

This version of you was living the life you dreamed of while you lived like this. Not living one life, but three.

Your eyes grew wet as your breathing slowed. All this suffering. All this exhaustion. What was it all for? You couldn’t tear your eyes away from yourself.

"Hey!" Miguel called out, noticing your lack of response. "Are you all right?" You couldn’t hear him. While you were wearing your mask, he recognized the symptoms and noticed your labored breathing. "Cariño—" he said, placing his free hand around your shoulder—"regresa a mí." He followed your gaze and saw what had shut you down. His heart sank. He knew all too well how you were feeling. "Let’s go."

Gently, he guided you back through the portal, dropping you off at his office for a quick moment while he took care of the anomaly. You sat on his new, non-swivel chair and stared at the multitude of holographic monitors showcasing all around HQ. All these different Spider-people, laughing and communicating as if they’ve gotten a good night's rest, as if they can guarantee one square meal a day. What were you doing wrong?

You bit the inside of your cheek as the envy bubbled within you.

Why did you have to get bitten?

A warm hand on your shoulder halted your thoughts. You turned your head to see Miguel standing over you, his eyes holding an empathy that could make you melt if you weren’t tipping over the edge of your mentality.

"I’m sorry," you murmured, taking a breath. "I shouldn’t have reacted like that in front of civilians. It wasn’t very professional of me." Allowing yourself to embrace his comfort, you placed your hand over his. In return, he grabbed your hand and kneeled in front of you.

"I know we joke about our terrible work-life balance, but I’d rather see you happy and healthy than make jokes about your misery." You managed a small smile.

"Being funny is my charm. The misery comes with it."

"But having you in my life is a charm I never want to lose," he argued, not wanting to feed into your humor. "I know how much seeing something like this can hurt you, so please talk to me."

You trusted Miguel with your life, so you opened a part of your heart to him. A part that buried your burdens with each passing second because you worked for others and not yourself. The part that people hide from others to give the impression that they had their whole lives life together. Because if you didn’t, then you were incapable. Then you weren’t strong enough. Then, you weren’t worthy of a title you didn’t ask for but would still die on a hill defending the name.

You were incapable of living three lives, yet didn’t you just start out with one? What happened to that one?

Avoiding his gaze, you looked down at your interconnected hands. Unable to look at him without shedding tears, you flooded him with three different worlds. Your worlds.

He rubbed small circles into the palm of your hand, mesmerized by the weight of your hand against his. He wished he could hold it forever. How he wished he could take away the pain that was destined to fall on you. The feeling of your hands intertwined was one that he wished would take root and grow—a touch that was fairly unfamiliar to him yet one that he found himself craving desperately. Without a complaint, he absorbed every word you spoke like a sponge, knowing full well how you had dropped everything to do the same to him, his heart aching at every self-deprecating comment you made.

He understood where you were coming from. The worthlessness you felt as you wondered what it was that you were doing wrong. He also knew now that it's harder to see the ocean when you’re the one drowning in it. It was going to take time, just like how he was learning to forgive himself, but he’d help you through your struggles the same way you did with him: by providing patience, care, and normalcy.

When you eventually came to the end of your stressed ramble, he watched you take a shaky breath before he placed his hand on your cheek.

"I know you’ve already told me this once, but you deserve to be happy in your own life, and you will find it. You’re not weak for wanting to take on less responsibility or for wanting to be normal." He wiped a stray tear that was falling down your cheek, noticing the buildup of tears glazing over your eyes. "You and I both know that what you’re doing isn’t manageable, but I want you to know that I am here for you. I… I want us to be as normal as we can be as Spider-people, and we can do it together, okay?

The tears bundled in the corners of your eyes flowed freely down the wet tracks on your face. Trying desperately to take a breath—a breath meant to calm you and help clear your head—got caught in your throat.

You sobbed.

You sobbed like you had just lost your uncle, like you did when the captain of the police force (one of your closest friends) died. You sobbed like you did after a month of being Moon-Spider, except now you weren’t alone.

Miguel wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to join him on the platform, on stable ground, as he rubbed your back and let you have your long-overdue breakdown. Though your mind was scattered, your heart was set here with Miguel. No matter what, being your dimension’s masked hero was a title you would hold with pride, and you refused to hang your cape even if it killed you. Yet not all your lives revolved around the mask.

When Miguel calmed you, he reluctantly said his goodbyes as you insisted on going back to your own dimension. You weren’t going to sit here anymore and cry; with a newfound freedom, you went home.

You took on no new clients.

Finished your cases.

And quit.

===

I’ll touch every star in the sky.

So this is the miracle,

Everyone had their own nickname in the Spider Society. After a year of being members, you and Miguel were crowned the "work spouses." It started off as a joke.

"Hey, your work husband is mad again. Do you mind talking to him, please?"

"Miguel! Where did your work spouse run off to now?"

Now, it wasn’t really a joke. After everything you two had done for one another, how could someone not fall in love?

===

That I’ve been dreaming of.

"Break?" Miguel offered after the now-paralyzed anomaly was safely captured. You agreed, stretching your arms above your head to look at the sky. Despite it being around six in the morning, it had begun to lighten up. Together, you picked out the highest rooftop you could find and swung up to take your usual five(ish) minute break. Side by side, you sat, enjoying each other’s company and having idle chit-chat.

For once, this break wasn’t a desperate attempt to switch off a light bulb that’s been shining for far too long. After quitting your job over a month ago, life became much more bearable. There was still a long road ahead to unstick the pessimistic mindset you had grown comfortable with, but being able to breathe without the resistance of stress on your shoulders outweighed the costs. You were still missing something, though: peace. A type of peace that was so close to you that you could hold its hand. A type of peace that was so handsome that sometimes you found yourself blushing. You wanted that peace, and peace wanted you. It wasn’t enough to be friends with it anymore.

"Miguel?" you said softly, moving your hand to press up against his. "Can I ask you something?"

Miguel placed his hand on top of yours.

"Sure."

You took a moment before responding.

"What am I to you?"

His hand practically froze on top of yours as he turned to look at you, the gears turning in his head.

"We’re… friends."

You scoffed, but there was no malice behind it and gestured at your hand intertwined with his.

"Do you really call this ‘friends’?"

"Okay. Close friends."

"Miguel."

Nervous about the confrontation, he stood up abruptly and headed toward the unconscious anomaly, ready to head back to HQ.

"I don’t think we should mess with what we have now," he lied straight through his teeth, not wanting to look at you in fear he would fold. You stood up after him, slightly shocked at his response but not wanting this conversation to run away.

"Am I just a work spouse to you?"

"Now you know that you are more than that to me," Miguel scolded as he turned and pointed a finger at you, upset that you would think such a thing.

"Then why don’t you want to show me? Treat me the way I want to treat you? I don’t want to keep acting like this knowing that I love—"

"Fuck, I’m scared!" His voice raised slightly as he cut you off, his heart pounding at your near confession. You froze, recognizing the look in his eyes, but still pushed to ask:

"Why? What makes you so scared to be with me?"

"How every time I start feeling excited about my future, how I start feeling excited with you, it goes terribly wrong. I’m scared it's all going to crumble. No quiero perderte, amor. If something bad happens to you, I just— It would be my fault!"

His words sat in the air. This behavior was familiar. It was the same ocean, just a different person drowning.

"And if you were to get hurt…" you cautioned as you carefully chose your words, not wanting this to become an argument, "…would it be my fault?" Miguel opened his mouth, but you refused to let your words go unsaid. "If I were to feel loved and safe with you, would it be my fault or yours? You can’t control the actions of others, Miguel, but you can control yourself and how you respond to others." You sighed as you gazed at him with those worried eyes he loved so much. "Miguel I thought you were working on this," you said, referring to the therapy sessions he had taken in the past.

"I have—chingado—lo siento!" He cursed, trying to remedy the situation. "I swear I’ve been. It’s just… I love being with you, but I’m worried that if you get too close, you’ll get hurt. Having that normal life, it feels unnatural to me."

"In the year I’ve known you, I have never gotten hurt because of something you've done," you refuted, refusing to let him compare this situation to what had happened with his daughter. You walked closer to him and reached out to hold his hands. "I understand why you’re nervous, but this is different. We are different. It’s your own happiness. It’s your own life, and it hurts watching you try and punish yourself for living it. You’re not a bad person, Miguel."

Unable to form words of his own, he pulled your intertwined hands toward him and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"You don’t understand how good you are to me," he sighed as he embraced your comfort. You move your arms around him, allowing yourself to sit in this temporary peace for a moment. When you felt he was calm, you spoke again.

"Do you feel ready to be in a relationship right now?"

He was hesitant to answer, but when his head was above the water, he knew denying it would be self-sabotage.

"Only if it’s with you."

Your face heated up; you were constantly at the mercy of Miguel O’Hara’s words.

"We can take things slow. It’s not like I have much experience with relationships either, you know? So, if there’s anything you ever wanna do or try, just ask. Just stay with me, and I’ll stay with you."

Miguel hummed, and you could feel a smile forming on his lips in the crook of your neck. Slowly, he moved his head to face you, leaving a mere few inches between you two.

"Can I kiss you?" With your breath now hitched, all you could do was nod before he closed the gap. It was short, sweet, and addicting. He held you tight around your waist, and in return, you moved your arms around his neck, pulling him in. When you broke apart, who could blame you when you leaned back in for another? Another? Okay, maybe just one more, but you promised it was the last.

Miguel chuckled, finding it in himself to pull away and open his eyes to you. Your pupils were dilated, and your lips were slightly swollen; you were electrifying. He had the urge to finish what he started right there on the rooftop, but you didn’t deserve some quick sex in a random dimension. He’d have to settle with just this for now. Leaning back in, he trailed his lips along your jawline, stopping to leave little pecks along the way. Pecks on your cheek, your nose, your forehead—anywhere he could reach without letting you go.

You couldn’t stop giggling, the light trail of his lips tickling your face. Your heart bloomed with a love for him that could last forever. He leaned away and gazed at you with loving eyes, taking in every little feature that made you who you are. The shape of your lips and how they fit perfectly between his. The curve of your nose as you dragged it across his jaw. The look in your eyes as you looked at him with a love that’s meant only for him.

The sun began peaking over the horizon, shining behind Miguel in blooming shades of yellow and orange. He was so beautiful; his vulnerability and care warmed your soul. He shined a light on your life and helped you learn to grow and to continue to grow together.

Your sun.

From his view, the dark shades of pink, purple, and blue colored the sky. The glittering stars only illuminated your presence in front of him. So pretty, so handsome. You were so perfectly flawed. To hold his heart so gently in fear that someone might come and hurt it. Not you, though; never you.

His moon.

To him, you provided the peace he needed to come to terms with. Someone to help ground him in the quiet hours of the night and show him that comfort was a calm feeling he should indulge in.

Fuck, you were just so—

"I..." he trailed, his throat closing in a nervous tremor. You hummed, urging him to continue as you trailed your fingers up to cup his face in your palms. "I want to be normal with you. Te amo, cariño."

You grinned, the corners of your eyes crinkling.

"I love you," you lilted, giving him another quick peck. "Let’s go be normal together."

So this is love.

{Hope you guys liked it! It's my first try at an x reader. I had two people check over my Spanish, but if there's something that's not right, please let me know!!}

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #atsv fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman across the spider verse

[vanillabeenflower]

My Reimaginings for the HB/HH Rings + Hellborns

My ideas for a redesign of the setting and its inhabitants to have it make a little more sense! I'll put all this under the cut so it won't be too long on the dashboard:

Okay! So, I've noticed QUITE a few slight discrepancies between some of the rings. I wanted to share how I would do it, based on some critiques I've seen. This is in no way anything negative, I just want to share how I would do it. With that in mind, know that I tend to be a bit blunt with my criticism but know that it's out of me thinking that it would be the obvious option, personally, and not out of any rudeness.

The Flaws

I want you to know that I in no way know anything about demonology, but I do know a bit about Dante's Divine Comedy and the emotions associated with colors. I'm going to go down the list in the show's order, one by one, and then give my versions at the end.

First is the Pride Ring, where the main cast of both shows reside. Now, I want to point this out: why are ALL of the sinners only confined to this ring? That doesn't even make sense from a biblical retelling perspective. Didn't the entire journey through Inferno show that there were sinners on every level of Hell?

Anyway, first off, I really don't see this as the Pride Ring. I expected this to be the Wrath Ring, which is what I thought until I saw the actual Wrath Ring. There's this thing called "color psychology", which is the study of how colors influence emotions or give clues to the atmosphere of someplace. Historically, purple has always meant royalty and wealth, since it was the most expensive color to dye your clothes in. I think that would be a more fitting color for the Pride Ring. As for the design, It's cool, but doesn't say Pride. It says New York, which I think would be the opposite of Pride.

Next is the Wrath Ring, which looks great. I have no actual criticism of the ring's design itself since it fits really well. I like the volcanic elements and the fiery sunset sky, and the fact that it's where many hell beasts/animals reside makes sense. Also, it is mainly rural and has fire-related weather (flaming tornadoes) which also makes sense. I have no fixes for this. Good work!

The Gluttony Ring is the same way. I appreciate the fact that the sky has hexagonal shapes in it (not shown above) and that it's mainly plant life since the actual Beelzebub is an insect, and most people associate insects with being outside. There are a few things I'd change, like pushing the plant aspects a bit and having the buildings look more like various insect nests, not just beehives, maybe a few dens or plant-inspired buildings (I really like how Zootopia's world is built because it was made with the builders in mind: animals. Since they use organic structures in real life for their homes, they made some buildings have a curvature that fit their "ancestor" instincts, it even extended to their cars at one point. I highly recommend reading The Art of Zootopia to see their creative process with a bit more polished language).

Okay, why did they make the Greed Ring green?? Everyone knows that green is the universal color of Envy, so why is it here? I get that making it green works much better than any other color, and I agree, it does look better, and it's the same color of money, but I have an alternate idea. Make the Greed Ring yellow.

This might not sound like a good choice, but here's my reasoning. I love that the Greed Ring is a polluted, overly industrial cityscape, that fits amazingly. But if you look at real-life smog-filled cities, what color are they?

Yellow. Or at least a dirty, dark yellow-brown. So what I'm saying is that you don't even need to make it a bright yellow, making it a dark yellow-brown would really show how filthy the Greed Ring is. Also yellow is the color of gold so it also makes sense symbolically.

I have my gripes with the Lust Ring. Why is it dark blue?? The color symbolism was right there, pink and red are the most associated colors with lust!

However, I do like the fact that it's always night in the Lust Ring, it's very symbolic of the "nightlife" aspect of the emotion. I just don't know why they chose a normal sky color over something else.

I am a sucker for good color combinations, but I don't really think making the night sky dark blue made sense. It doesn't even have to be a drastic change, just shift the night sky's color to the warmer side a bit. If the ring does have a day and night cycle, and I'm just stupid, make the day go from hot pink to light pink from top to bottom, then have the night sky go from red/magenta to hot pink, with white stars (or just make the sky a lighter version of those two options). It would look mega pretty!!

The Envy Ring is one we haven't seen yet, but I wonder what we'll get since we already used up our green card with the Greed Ring. Someone I was talking about this with said that since the Envy Ring is ruled over by Leviathan, the ring will be ocean-themed and blue, like the ocean. I like that idea since sea blue is, in fact, a real color (and I also think that those 2 twins from the Mammon episode are from there, because of the way they acted and since they are fish-themed), and the theme fits. But the problem is. Sea green is a real color too.

Wait, this was the Sloth Ring?? I assumed this was part of the Lust Ring because of the colors, and because I was holding onto some hope of the color psychology making sense!

But. I LOVE this ring. The more pastel color of the ring actually relaxed my eyes a bit, which I think was the intention. I love the floating islands and the waterfalls, it all gives off a very relaxing atmosphere. My only design change would be to change the sky to a color like baby blue since blue as a color is actually scientifically proven to reduce feelings of stress and anger.

My Rendition

Now that we have all that out of the way, here's my version of how I would've done things.

I would match the colors of the rings to their corresponding color. I would arrange them in the way that they are in the show, but we'd risk that cool rainbow gem order up top. But if we want to arrange them in rainbow order, they'd be inaccurate to the order of the rings in Inferno (I think??), so you can choose which order you'd like, I'm just doing this for myself. Also I realize that they aren't really based on the nine levels of Hell, but the 7 Deadly Sins, which is fine by me, I find that making more sense.

Red = Wrath (an obvious choice, since red signifies strength, danger, and actually stimulates energy in real life)

Orange = Gluttony (it just makes more sense than yellow, plus if we're assuming the bee motif, it's the actual color of refined honey)

Yellow = Greed (color of gold and matches the smoggy city it's depicted as)

Green = Envy (another obvious choice, plus since Leviathan rules over this ring, it would match the ocean aesthetic as sea green)

Baby Blue = Sloth (soft blues actually cause a relaxed response in the brain)

Purple = Pride (color of royalty, also associated with arrogance and wealth)

Pink/Hot Pink = Lust (OBVIOUS CHOICE)

The Hellborns

Now my headcanons on what the overall citizens of each ring would be. I actually have an idea for slight species dimorphism for all the imps in each ring but I'll have to design that another day. I want my rainbow imps dammit

The Wrath Ring would have the highest imp concentration, with any other demon species being the lowest here. Imps who are born here are red in color, about the same shades of red that we see in all imps in-show.

The inhabitants of the Gluttony Ring should be bug/insect demons since the ruler of the ring is literally an insect. Imps born here are shades of orange.

The Greed Ring would have those shark demons seen in Exes & Oohs, but someone I was chatting with said it would make more sense for all the aquatic demons to be in the Envy Ring, so I don't know. Imps here are born in shades of yellow.

The Envy Ring would have mainly fish/aquatic-themed demons. Imps born here are shades of green.

The Sloth Ring should make the demons there have more themes of ungulates or ruminant animals like goats, sheep, and pigs because Baphomet is not a demon species. Imps born here are shades of blue.

The Pride Ring is where demon royalty mainly resides. Imps are rarely born here and if they are, they're usually born into servitude. Imps born in this ring are purple.

The Lust Ring is where incubi and succubi live (like Verosika). Imps born here are shades of pink.

For Hellhounds, I think they should be found in all rings rather than mainly in the Gluttony Ring. Even though the reason that's where they are is because Cerberus apparently guards this ring is very clever, it doesn't make that much sense. I also think they should all be grayscale and have their eyes correspond to the color of which ring they were born in (I love achromatic color schemes with one bright color to add color to it).

Anyway, those are my thoughts! I hope you enjoyed this interpretation of mine!

#redesign rants #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin critique #helluva boss critique #hazbin critcal #helluva boss critical #I'm not really ''in the fandom'' enough to call myself this but I've watched the shows #long post

[octopodarts]

In celebration of this finally being done and in the hope of generating some hype before it starts im releasing my pet project into the wild a few days before its set to start!

Here is a full month long challenge to get people into my favorite hobby with me! Feel free to share this post and tag me in your creations or use the tag Neography November

Under the cut is each of the daily and weekly challenges in an easy to copy list!

Week Zero: Make your own script!

Create an initial key

Figure out your numbers

Determine what punctuation you need

Write out the date in full

Week One: Iteration and Design

Choose or make a pangram

Oops no vowels (Abjad day)

Fill an entire page with characters

Write all your characters in different colors

Write out your script upside-down

Use a fun tool to write with

Week Two: Tools and Form

Write out a palindrome

Illustrate a comic action word

Switch up the direction you write in

Illustrate your favorite onomatopoeia

Draw curse words in your script in the dirt or sand

Connect your characters in cursive

Week Three: Elaboration and Embellishment

Illuminate a character like the start of a manuscript

Combine several characters to make a glyph or sigil

Write out your favorite quote

Fill a page with a single sentence

Add a new character or combine two original ones

Create an updated and decorative key

Week Four: Transcription and Adjustment

Use your script to write out your grocery list

Transcribe your favorite poem

Write out a fake letter written entirely in script

Create a page out of your own Voynich Manuscript

Week One: Iteration and Design All characters made of variations of the same shape [Circle, Triangle, Curves, Hexagons, Cubes]

Week Two: Tools and Form Design around an unusual writing implement [Toothpicks, Yarn scraps, Golf ball, CD/DVD, Traffic light]

Week Three: Elaboration and Embellishment Its the Stroke Maximalist challenge! [4+ strokes, Compound characters, 6+ strokes, Contains punctuation, Logography]

Week Four: Transcription and adjustment Writing on complicated surfaces [Cardboard, Fabric, A curved surface, a wet surface, Something moving]

#neography #Neography November #conlang #monthly art challenge

[ckret2]

I’d like to hear about Bill’s dad being intersex!

Anonymous asked: just in case no one else has asked about it yet: how *is* bill's dad intersex? All the bill home dimension world building lore is so fascinating

Okay here you go!!

(For reference for anyone who hasn't been watching me gradually infodump over the months: I've decided to chuck "lines are Just Girls and polygons are Just Boys out the window" and am headcanoning that each individual polygon is considered a separate sex. Reproduction just happens to require 1 line and 1 of any of a multitude of polygon sexes, because I'm more interested in overhauling the social category of gender than I am in inventing new reproductive methods.)

So with a few exceptions, typically a polygon will inherit either his dad's polygon genes, or unexpressed-but-still-present polygon genes in his mom's DNA. So a hexagon dad and a mom with invisible octagon genes will usually either have a hexagon or an octagon.

(This helped give rise to the now-debunked myth that the number of sides in a family's sons "should" go up with each generation; it's a lot harder for a line to marry up than to marry down, so you'd frequently see, say, the daughter of a pentagon marrying a square; and then if half their sons are squares and half are pentagons, hey! The sides are increasing somehow! Meanwhile that line's pentagonal brothers are typically marrying the daughters of hexagons, and some of their sons are coming out hexagons... You see how they might have gotten the wrong idea when they didn't understand how genetics works.)

Just like in humans, sometimes you can get identical twins if a growing shape splits in half during pregnancy; and if it happens just late enough that the shape's sides have already grown... sometimes you might get, for example, two baby trapezoids rather than one baby hexagon.

This means that they're socially considered quadrilaterals, and will likely be raised that way; but they've got hexagon genes, and their children would turn out hexagonal, not quadrilateral.

And it affects more than their DNA; in this situation, a trapezoid twin's internal organs would looks like 1/2 of a hexagon's organs rather than like a normal quadrilateral's internal organs.

For a long time, identical twins were considered a family tragedy—your children lost several generations of sides AND came out irregular! After the genes at work became better understood, two "symmetrical twins" were considered as regular as a singlet regular shape.

By modern times you have the usual morass of "well what shape are they REALLY???" and poor medical understandings of how their bodies work; a higher acceptance of irregularity has reduced but not eliminated medically unnecessary cosmetic surgeries.

Bill's dad slid around the "well are you really a hexagon or a trapezoid" issue by going "I'm a rectangle, actually."

It shows how much society's evolved since Victorian times that a hexagon can father two visually irregular quadrilaterals and one of them fathers a triangle and the grandparents are just like "great!! that's a damn cute triangle!"

"How much of this will be relevant in what you're writing?" god probably none of it

#squid here #anonymous #ask #bill goldilocks cipher #shape gender #my art #(this doubles as 'what flatland would be like in 120 years after they learn about genetics' headcanon so i might as well tag it—) #flatland #headcanons

[adobe-outdesign]

omg can you review the mighty poogle 🥺

The Poogle is one of those really abstract Neopets wherein it's just a Creature(TM). What kind of creature? Who knows. I guess they're meant to be vaguely dog-like (seeing as Poogle racing is a thing, and it does sound vaguely like "poodle"), but they really don't lean towards any one specific animal, which is always something I enjoy.

What makes Poogles appealing is undeniably how chubby they are; it makes them look extra cuddly and is part of what gives them their distinctive noses (or lack thereof) and double chins. It also comes with a bit of lore about them living primarily in cold-weather regions, kind of like how seals have blubber to keep them warm.

Beyond that, I also like their stripes; they break up the design just enough without feeling too distracting, similar to their underbellies. The shape of the stripes is also mimicked by their distinctive ears.

I will fully admit though: Poogles got the raw end of the deal when it comes to customization. Not the absolute worst conversion job, mind you, as for the most part they look pretty dang similar—same pose, same proportions, same markings, etc.

However, what got completely messed up is their faces. Originally, Poogles had a soft, fleshy snoot that had two sets of lines to indicate that it was mostly fat and that it went back in space a bit. Removing this upper line makes their snouts look hard, and also has the side effect of making their snout and even their entire head look too wide.

Likewise, the chin got messed up. The Poogle originally had a pretty distinct double chin/fat neck that, once again, showed how chubby they were. More importantly, their chin lines weren't closed off, so their heads bled directly into their bodies. On converted Poogles, they now just look like they have one weird normal chin instead of a chin and neck. The end result is actually kind of uncanny if you stare at them for too long. It's a shame, because like I said, everything else about the conversion works, and there was no reason to change the elements they did. They're still cute, mind you, just slightly less so.

Favorite colours:

MSP: Species-specific colors always tend to be iconic and a delight, and MSP Poogles certainly are no exception. They're basically the same thing as a regular plushie Poogle, except Evil(TM), with red eyes and a nasty set of sharp teeth (side note: canonically, all Poogles actually have sharp teeth; you just rarely see them). The unconverted version also is bipedal, unlike the regular unconverted plushie, which was quadrupedal.

Both converted and unconverted MSPs have a super fun chaotic gremlin energy to them, and both designs are good depending on which stance you prefer (I kind of like the converted quadrupedal, though granted, the loss of some stitching and extra softness is a bit of a shame.)

Toy: This color literally just released last month, but a toy Poogle based off of the good old iDog is just delightful. Even if you don't know anything about iDogs, the design is still good, with the eyes serving to complete a multi-colored hexagon that draws attention to the head, and the rest of the body considering of just a smooth off-white and black.

Zombie: The mindless eyes on this one are just absolutely delightful and give it a ton of personality. I also like the details, such as a few stitches here and there, a scraggly mouth, scratch lines against the usual stripes, and liver spots. As a bonus, it looks good both with PB clothing and without.

BONUS: I don't normally mention "recolor" Neopets as much on these reviews just because they tend to be mostly by-the-numbers, but the pastle Poogle is honestly gorgeous, with subtle gradients and a low-contrast blue and pink color scheme, helped by colored lineart. It's nothing fancy, but it's definitely one of the all-time best pastels out there.

#neopets #neotag #poogle #I should probably make a tag for these finally #neopet reviews #there we go

[carionto]

I just wanna know if it'll work!

The Monolith!

A massive perpendicular structure - 1 meter deep, 4 meters wide, 9 meters tall - with a perfect 81 centimeter diameter circle cut, with its center 64 centimeters from the top.

Naomi Glasnikova was grinning like mad. She couldn't figure out where to put squares of 4, 5, 6, or 7 in the design without overcomplicating things, so decided to just forego them. It'll be fine, she's sure everything will work out just as planned.

What is the plan, her fellow scientists from the Coalition species ask? To see if placing ominous black metal alloy structures around a planet with primitive lifeforms will make their brains go "Oh, this is different, I should... *think* about it. Yes. Thinking is a thing I can do now. Thus, with the power of thoughts I can look at other things and go "Oh, what if I did this!" and make myself evolve into a civilization (once I figure out how to come up with prerequisite concepts)."

Is the inner dialogue Naomi was having. Her colleagues, both Human and Alien alike, had long abandoned the idea of trying to talk to her about her projects. She would just get into this deep staredown with you while simultaneously not paying any attention to your existence. Her mind begins to race with the possibilities, the what ifs, who dunnits, why nots, etc., and after a few minutes of complete stillness she would suddenly rush out, writing furiously on her digi-pad, often bumping into chairs, tables, walls, other people, one time she almost vented herself from the station. They put a micro-tag on her pad that would wirelessly turn off nearby lights at any intersections that didn't lead to her office. She subconsciously veers toward bright lights.

This latest monolith project came about after one of her equally eccentric interns (nobody knows where they come from, she just seems to naturally attract ones with similar brainwaves or something) showed her an ancient fictional documentary about possible technological developments in the early 21st century. The image of this simpler monolith instantly embedded itself into her mind.

WAIT! I've got it! Four groups of monoliths arranged in different patterns. The group of 16 will make a perfect square. 25 a star. 36 a hexagon, and 49 a... hmm heptagon would be too similar, and it doesn't look right no matter how you shape it.... hrrnnn No wait, a seven layer circle! One in the center, fourteen in the outermost and the rest... I'll do the math later. The areas will need to be perfectly cleared and flat too. Oh! Line patterns on the ground itself. Ones that show core scientific truths! One of the primitives will surely one day follow the lines and map them out either in its brain or on a simple data recording apparatus and see Science! They'll be so stunned! Gotta write that down, get one of the helpful people (her interns, whose names or faces she doesn't even know, yet they don't care either. Look, it's weird, but their kind of non-relationship works out somehow) to begin production. They will need to be made of non-corrosive alloys, of course. Each with a different core metal though. But then the color might change. No paint, that is an unnecessary element. Hmm... Evolution will take millennia, hopefully a few less with my help.

Last month her focus was on making a fully transparent species of frogs to see whether they would go extinct due to being unable to see their partners, or overrun the ecosystem. Nobody has seen the results of that yet.

We also don't know what she's actually a PhD of. Her diploma just says applied robotics, and it is a legit diploma from the Henderson University of Greater Estonia. But her published thesis is on viral infection vectors in sub-tropical moths. We thought she might be a fraud, but the science checks out in whatever she has put out so far. Whatever she is, she is allowed to do whatever she wants. Like most scientists out on these stations now that I think about it.

What are we even doing here, other than... Science?

Mmmm, fuck it, unlimited funding. Let's go!

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto #FOR SCIENCE

[bae4choi]

STARWARS - P.SH

Kylo ren! Seonghwa x Jedi/resistance member! Reader

Genre: Smut, little bit of fluff at the end

Word Count: 4,103

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of death, choking, dom! Seonghwa, sub fem! Reader, unprotected sex (let's not🫶), name calling (pretty, pretty girl, Hwaseong), dirty talk, grinding, hickey giving (f. Receiving), fingering (f. Receiving), handjob (m. Receiving), squirting, hair pulling, clit slapping, wall fucking, creampie

Authors Note: This took way too damn long to write😭 although, I am happy with it and I hope you enjoyed!! It's not proof read because I'm lazy.. sorry!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sound of the room code being put in was heard beeping from the inside, shifting in your spot on the somewhat vertical metal slate when hearing it. The chunky metal cuffs uncomfortably dug into the skin of your wrists and ankles. Your movement was small as you were restrained, only allowing you to lift your head slightly to peak at the hexagon like shaped entrance.

The two sides of the door that met together in the middle were torn apart when the code was correctly put in. Stepping into your secluded prison area were two identical storm troopers, guns occupying the both of their hands. They walked in synk before stepping away from one another to allow him to walk through.

You heard the metal doors behind them shut in a loud echoing sound, but the only thing you could focus on was his full black body outfit as it stood out compared to the suits of his army. The cape fluttering behind him before he stopped a few feet in front of yourself, you could already imagine the smug look on his face under that stupid helmet of his.

"Good to see you again, pretty" His voice came out husky and low with the alterations the helmet made to his originally velvety and smooth voice, you had become rather accustomed to it these past few months.

You retorted back, the words only coming out in mumbles from the annoyingly dirty cloth gagging you. His chuckle resonated through the room in response as he walked closer to you, his gloved hands pulling the cloth from your mouth before you turned your head away in disgust.

He sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly at the scowl you had on your face, knowing it was aimed for himself.  With the flick of his wrist the closed sliding doors behind him opened.

"Out." His head turned towards the side, angled down as he talked to his two soldiers.

Two quick "yes sirs" left their mouths before exiting the doors. The man in front of you once again had his attention back on you as the doors behind him shut, leaving the two of you alone.

"Y/N"

"Hwaseong" you spit his name out like venom, you despised him, absolutely despised him. after all, he murdered your father with absolutely no remorse. You were not on his side, you were a Jedi, this was not your territory. Yet, you always ended up alone with him one way or another.

"You always act like this at first, yet one touch will have you coming undone on my fingers, isn't that right pretty?" His gloved hand came to stroke your face, your head instantly jerking away from his touch.

He let out a scoff, his hand aggressively gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him.

"Don't make me hurt you" His voice came out more as a sadistic growl then a command.

"Fuck you" you spat as your nose flared in anger, only then realizing what was coming next when he tilted his head to the side in a mocking way.

You felt the tension in your throat rise when he let go of your chin, hand held out in the air a few inches away from your neck. Feeling the way he began cutting off your air flow with just his mind, your head was being forcibly pressed up against the metal behind yourself. You choked out when he clamped his hand tighter. Your vision becoming hazy with the lack of oxygen. A small whimper left you, then an inaudible mumble following after.

"What was that, pretty?" He teased when he saw tears brimming at your eyes, another quiet mumble leaving your mouth.

"Speak up." He commanded.

"S-stop!" It was quiet, but louder than your last two attempts.

He obeyed, letting his arm fall to his side as he watched you cough and gasp for air. Seeing a few tears sliding down your cheeks and laughing to himself.

"You know what I want Y/N and I know you'll give it to me" He spoke.

You wanted so badly to get out of your restraints, wipe the embarrassing tears off your face and leave. But the growing heat in your pants was saying otherwise, your body spoke for itself and it wanted him. You shook your head 'no' in response to his words, your head hanging low while keeping your gaze away from him. but he was unconvinced.

"I know you enjoy it, pretty" His hand played with a strand of your hair, "when my fingers are buried inside that drenched cunt of yours" he tucked the strand of hair behind your ear, as you bit your lip.

"We have a bond, one like no other" his hand came under your chin, raising your eyes to his covered ones.

"I can feel your arousal from here" His thumb wiped a tear from your face, you shook your head again in his grasp.

"I don't need you, Hwaseong, I don't" you choked out, you couldn't let him get to you, not again. Not after all the shit he has done to your family and friends.

You were apart of the resistance, the last known Jedi, one who fought against the first order. You couldn't betray them like this.

At least, not again.

"No, but you want me. Why disregard your feelings? why must you always deny it every time we see one another, hmm?" His hand remained on your face as you glared at him, it angered you that he was right.

"Take your helmet off" you demanded, searching the metal helmet for a certain reaction or movement.

He removed his hand from your face, bringing both of them up to his head. Clicking both triggers on each side of the helmet to release the suction, before lifting it above his head. His sharp eyes met yours as he let the helmet drop to the floor, the metal floor and helmet making a loud clank. His blonde, almost silvery white hair sitting perfectly atop his head as a smirk was plastered on his face.

He saw your pupils dilate, practically sparkling as you laid your eyes on him. Just as you always did when he took his helmet off.

"Your reaction never fails to turn me on, pretty. Keep looking at me like that and you won't even remember you're a member of the resistance when I'm done with you" there it was, that smooth seductive voice of his. That voice that always had you seeing stars and forgetting your own name. You didn't even care about the meaning of his words, only his delivery.

His hands found their way to your waist, caressing and drawing circles on them delicately before moving them farther up. Ghosting the tips of his thumbs against your clothed nipples, the breathy moan you let out going straight to his growing erection.

"Take the restraints off Hwa" You tried jerking your arms away in attempt to free yourself, only wanting to get closer to him. He let out a chuckle before flicking his wrist, the restraints coming undone by the force.

You fell forward, landing into his grasp. Hands falling into his chest before snaking them around his shoulders as his came to your waist. Breathing the same air as your breaths fanned over one another's faces.

He was the first to close the gap, slamming his lips into yours. Pushing your back against the metal slate you were once restrained to.

Your lips moved in sync, sucking, licking, and biting. His hands squeezed your waist harder, most definitely leaving bruises for you to later find. Deepening the kiss when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, a desperate sounding moan leaving your throat when he began sucking on your tongue.

Your hands became tangled in the back of his hair, trying to bring his face as close as possible. Either of his hands made it to your thigh, lifting it and bringing it around his side. You ground your hips into his erection, earning yourself a delightful growl from the man who had his tongue shoved in your mouth.

The taste of his saliva was like nothing else you had ever experienced before, you could never get enough of it. He separated from your swollen lips and you whined from the lost of contact. He let out a small breathy laugh between the wet kisses he left on your jawline down to your neck. His tongue poked out from his mouth, allowing it to lick a strip of your warm skin, and causing shivers to run down your spin.

He soon after latched his plump lips around your neck, sucking and biting. Leaving his marks all over you. He wanted nobody but himself touching you, you were his.

"You know" he said between open mouth kisses and sucks on your neck, you hummed, pulling him closer by the leg wrapped around his torso.

"Our telepathy works whenever" you let out a high pitched whine when he found the sweet spot on your neck, he continued to abuse that spot when he felt your hips grind into his.

"I can hear you thinking about me when touching yourself" you let out an embarrassed whimper then mumbling out a quiet 'no'.

Although your telepathy bond could work at any given time, you didn't think he could hear you at such vulnerable times, how embarrassing.

"No- you can't" he chuckled into your neck.

"Oh but I can. You make it so hard for me not to take my ship straight to wherever you may be and fuck that precious little cunt of yours, pretty" you whined, your hand ruining his perfectly combed hair as you let your fingers tangle and grip the soft locks as you pushed him farther into the side of your neck.

You were so desperate, desperate for the feeling of his fingers plunging in and out of your core. Curling them up and having your legs a shaking mess as you came all over them.

"Hwa please, just fuck me, please" you practically begged, pressing your hips closer to his, you felt his smile on the skin of your neck as a response.

He ran a hand over the fabric of your baggy pants around your raised thigh. Bringing them higher before teasing the hem of your pants, his cold gloved fingers pushing just a bit past the fabric as they ghosted over your warm skin, sending chills throughout your body.

"Stop teasing" you mumbled out, letting one of your hands fall to your pants and pushing the fabric just below your plump ass.

He chuckled at your desperation. Dropping your leg from his side, allowing your pants to drop to your ankles before you stepped out of them. You looked up at him, his eyes meeting yours before his hand disappeared into the fabric of your panties.

His other hand raised you leg again, this time higher so he could get more access. You let your head fall back into the metal while closing your eyes when his fingers found your clit, skillfully drawing circles around the bundle of nerves.

The fabric of his black leather gloves making your body shudder with the harsh yet pleasing contact.

"I can hear how wet you are, pretty. just as I want you" he smirked when pushing two fingers into your tight cunt, curling them slightly once fully inside. Just as you were craving them to do so.

You whined at the extra stretch his gloves caused. He gave your jawline wet open mouth kisses as he began moving his fingers in and out of you. His open hand came to your panties before ripping them off your body, a rather breathy gasp leaving your throat when hearing the sound. 

Now he could see just how big of a mess you were making on his fingers. he threw the torn material to the other side of the room, continuing to watch his now glistening gloved fingers disappear in you and reappear again. His pace began to speed up, wet lewd sounds bouncing off the walls.

You could barely control the sounds that were leaving yourself. You were too focused on the pleasure you felt with his fingers abusing your clenching hole and how the palm of his hand continued to slap onto your clit as he did so.

As one of your hands was on his shoulder, the other came to stop his moving one as you felt a weird feeling as you came closer to your high.

"S-stop, it feels weird" You tried to push his hand away but his other hand slapped yours away with an animalistic growl.

"You're fine, pretty. Enjoy yourself" he chuckled, watching as your arousal dripped around his fingers as the rammed into you.

"N-no Hwa, I'm serious- ah fuck!" You clenched around him as you felt the pleasure come over you, cumming all over his fingers, not even being able to comprehend the amount of liquid squirting from yourself and down your legs.

"Shit.." He watched in awe as your brows furrowed and mouth opened, your back arching up from the metal slate behind you. Your juices squirting out all over his hand, coating a good amount of his clothes and the floor in your essence.

His fingers slowed as you came down from your high, your face flushing red in embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed, pretty. That's the hottest thing I've seen in a long time" he chuckled and put your leg down and you covered your face with your hands. That was the first time you've ever squirted, you didn't even think you could physically do such a thing.

You peaked around your hands when you heard the sound of clothing hitting the ground, your eyes landing on his bare abdomen. You cursed to yourself when laying your eyes on his perfectly toned body.

You followed his lead, taking your shirt off then reaching your hands behind your back to unclip your bra. He watched you with hooded eyes as the straps fell down your shoulders, soon leading to your bra hitting the damp floor and releasing your pretty tits. He cursed under his breath when you looked up to him.

"You're stunning Y/N, the most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on" He told you while his hands began undoing his pants, your mouth falling slightly agape in shock from his words. He saw your face, letting a small smile take over his lips.

"Don't pretend that you don't know it's true" he told you.

Now if you were to tell your friends and your mother, along with the rest of the resistance that the Hwaseong had just called you the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. They'd laugh straight in your face, because surely the most feared man in the galaxy felt nothing for anyone, right? Or at least that's what you had thought.

"Hwaseong-"

"It's Seonghwa, pretty. My name is Seonghwa" His pants fell to the ground leaving him in tight black boxers, his throbbing erection being seen through the fabric.

"W-why are you telling me this, Hwaseong? I don't understand" you shook your head as he got closer to you, his hand lifted your chin, raising your face to his before pressing a soft delicate kiss on your lips. A feeling that you had never felt with him before.

"I don't know" he whispered against your lips "but I want you to call me that, will you do that for me?" His eyes flickered between yours, awaiting your response.

"Yes, Seonghwa" you pressed your forehead to his.

Why you agreed, you don't know. Something about Seonghwa had you fully pulled in. Into something you had never experienced before in your life. You've had sex with others before him but nothing was as pleasurable and special as it was with him and it confused you.

The both of you were so different in so many aspects. He was on the dark side trying to take over the galaxy while you were there to stop him, create peace throughout the galaxy.

The only thing that you had to blame for this was the bond. Which also confused you because, why was it there? Why was it that you could communicate with him whenever you felt the desire and how could he do the same? And why was it that you even desired to talk to him?

It's as if the two of you are connected by souls, maybe this is what the people would call soulmates.

the two of you had moments where you had thought of joining forces and it wasn't because of the sex you were sharing, rather the way you felt when you were together. The feeling of being on top of the world. That is how you felt with him at times, but you were always reminded of who he was and what he has done.

Yet, you couldn't help but forgive him.

Your hand roamed over his torso, outlining his abs with your fingers and then his v-line before slipping your hand past the fabric of his boxers. He let out a sigh of relief when you had fully grasped his hot erection. Giving it a teasing squeeze before running your finger along the slit, smearing the precum around the head of his cock.

"Seonghwa.?" You questioned, the warmth of your breath spreading over his face. He hummed in response, letting his hips grind into your hand as he squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head back in pleasure.

"I want you to fuck me like I'm the only girl in the galaxy"

His eyes shot open before he looked down at you, a look of surprise on his face. You became shy under his gaze, slowing the movements of your hand around his cock. But that feeling only lasted a second before he grabbed you face and slammed his lips into yours.

Your surprised gasp being swallowed by Seonghwa's mouth before kissing him back. Your teeth sometimes clanking together from the rough movements. The two of your bare chests met together, spreading the warmth of your flesh to one another. The pace of your  hand stroking his cock became faster and more rough, you brought your other hand to the back of his neck pushing him farther into your mouth.

You couldn't get close enough to him, no matter how hard your tried. You wanted him, all of him.

You separated from the kiss and his groin before catching his eyes as the two of you caught your breaths. Your bodies still being pressed together

"Will you?" You asked, meeting his eyes and still awaiting a reply from your previous question.

"Of course" His eyes remained on yours as he pushed his boxers fully down to his feet. His cock springing free from the material as his feet stepped out of the fabric.

His hands came in contact with both sides of your waist, giving the plush skin a small squeeze.

"Jump" he ordered and you obeyed. He easily lifted your body as if you weighed nothing and your legs came to wrap around his torso. His hands moved to hold the under side of your thighs and your arms wrapped around his neck to stable yourself.

He gently pushed you back against the metal slate behind yourself. It was different from the times he would slam you up against the metal, he always had you a bleeding mess under him as he interrogated you and pried answers from your mouth. Although you as well, never left him without a good beat.

Goosebumps spread across your skin when the metal hit your bare back, but the warmth of his chest pressed to yours made up for it. He began rubbing his hard cock through your wet arousal, as small gasp leaving your throat as he lubed himself before aligning with the entrance of your sobbing cunt.

His eyes met yours, asking for permission to push into you. It was something you had appreciated and adored, he may be the most feared man in the galaxy but he wouldn't ever push you to do anything sexual with him if you didn't want to.

Although he wouldn't hesitate beating you half to death when the two of you would get into fights. It was quite humorous.

"Please fuck me, Seonghwa. " You pushed your hips forward, your cunt sucking in the tip of his cock with ease.

He let out a hiss of pleasure when you clenched around him. Your head dropped onto his shoulder as he slowly pushed the rest of his length into you. Your sweet moans reaching his ears when he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back into you. He continued with the same pace, slow agonizing thrusts that were driving your crazy.

He could feel how desperate you were for more when your hips came to meet his in a rough way. He let out a chuckle when he gave you what you wanted, slamming into your tight wet hole and you couldn't help but drop your head onto his shoulder with loud high pitched whines leaving you in the process.

"Is this what you wanted, pretty-?" He teased, practically growling out the words as his hips continued abusing your hole.

"Yes- fuck! Just like that Hwa, don't stop!" You practically screamed out when he hit your sweet spot. Only making the both of your highs arrive faster when you clenched around his cock.

He cursed out in response, letting out small grunts from the noises you were making. One of his hands left your thigh and wrapped it around your waist, while the other made its way to your hair, pulling your head away from his shoulder to see your face.

"Such a pretty girl for me" His eyes watched your face, Your eyes were closed with your brows furrowed together and your mouth was slightly agape, letting out high pitched moans and whines just for him.

His gaze dropped down to your tits, watching as they bounced up and down with the force of his thrusts.

"You take me so well, pretty" your hands rested on his shoulders as his constant thrusts had your legs shaking around him.

His hand remained in your hair, his grip was softer then before but it still forced you to face him. Your eyes peaked open, watching him with hooded eyes. He gave you a small smirk before dropping the hand from your hair and down to your clit, giving it a few soft slaps before drawing circles around the bundle of nerves.

"Ah shit-!" Your hips jerked forward into his causing you both to let out similar moans. In response he sped up his movements. Hips now ramming into yours at an inhuman pace, fingers rubbing circles harshly on your clit adding just enough friction.

"S-Seonghwa, I'm gonna cum-"

"Go ahead, pretty. Make a mess all over my cock"

That's all it took for you to come undone, clenching and unclenching around him, causing him to curse out from the tightness. Your threw your head back in complete bliss, as constant sounds left your mouth.

Seonghwa was not far behind you as he shot his seed deep inside of you while his hips stuttered a bit. The both of you rode out your highs together.

Seonghwa pulled out and watched the both yours and his arousal drip out of you. He then put you down, your shaking legs almost giving out when they touched the ground. You both let out small laughs.

You rested your head against his chest as the both of you tried to catch your breaths. His hands wrapped around your waist and he placed a kiss on the roots of your hair before resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Y/N" he spoke, saying your real name instead of the nickname he's always called you. And you know when he calls you by your birth name that whatever he says next is nothing but serious.

You lifted your head from his chest to make eye contact with him, only to find him smiling warmly at you. Confusion now running through you.

"Y-Yeah.?" Your eyes flickered between his, searching for any sort of emotion he may be feeling. You saw something in his eyes but you pushed that thought away.

Hwaseong couldn't feel anything for anyone.

Or so you thought.

"I love you"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #atz hard hours #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa park #park seonghwa fanfic #ateez park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #fanfic #smut

[leos-regression-cove]

could I maybe ask for a Cg!Frank Castle and Cg!Matt Murdock with little reader? I love them both so much and my poly heart thinks they would be such great cgs- and little me does too lol. If thats okay?

Bedtime!

CG!Frank Castle x CG!Matt Murdock x GNLittle!reader

Rating: Gen

Summary: It's bedtime for little reader so Dada Matt Murdock and Papa Frank Castle help them get ready for bed.

Word Count: 409

Warnings: confirmed romantic relationship, bottles, non-sexual un/redressing, baby/toddler reader headspace, kissing, non-sexual tickling

A/N: Sorry such a short story took so long! I watched some of the show but not the whole thing so it may not be perfect. Thank you for the request anon! This was fun to write. :D

Support me on AO3!

You laid on your tummy on the floor while Matt sat next to you. “Dada! Dis’ one! Do dis one, kay?” you asked, handing him a star shaped block. 

He ran his hands over it. “It’s not a circle… Is it a square?” he joked. 

“No!” you giggled. 

“Not a hexagon…”

“No,” you hinted again. 

“Oh! Okay, I know, now. It’s a triangle, right?!”

You erupted with laughter. “Es a star dada!” you told him. 

He smiled and put the star in the right hole of the box as your papa, Frank, stepped into the room.

“Hey kiddo, it’s bedtime,” he said in his quiet, low voice, leaning over the couch. He then came over to help dada Matt up, offering his hand to him, before picking you up, too. 

“Bed-time,” you repeated. 

“Yeah. We gotta brush your teeth, put on your pajamas,” he listed in a calming voice, hugging you to him, making you feel all warm. 

Dada usually helped you brush your teeth when you were this little, but tonight papa did, keeping you in his arms he handed you the toothbrush and timed you before giving you a stiff pat on the back to spit and rinse. 

Then, he set you down on the big bed, right in dada’s lap! “I’m gonna go make sweetpea a bottle. You’re on pajama duty,” he said to dada, before kissing him on the cheek. 

“Ew!” you squealed in mock disgust. 

“Is kissing so gross?” Matt asked with a grin. 

“Yeah!” you replied. 

He rolled up your shirt to plant kisses on your tummy, which quickly devolved into tickling you as he got your day clothes off and put your cozy, footie pajamas on. 

Then, he suddenly stopped. 

Opening your eyes, you realized he had crawled up onto his side of the bed and was about to pick you up to be put in his lap. “It sounds like Frank’s all done with your bottle,” he whispered. 

Sure enough, he was right and papa returned, shaking the bottle up as he handed it over to his husband to give you and selected a story out of your bookshelf. 

Many of them were in braille, but there were a couple that had been printed as well. He took down a simple one and started to read, petting your legs that spread across his lap.

You were half asleep so quickly. All you felt after shutting your eyes was the replacement of your bottle with your pacifier and your caregivers shifting closer to one another.

#agere fic inspo #fandom agere #marvel agere #x reader #x gender neutral reader #cg!Frank Castle #cg!Matt Murdock #cg!punisher #cg!daredevil #little!reader #matt murdock x frank castle #agere fanfiction #agere fanfic #anon asks #requests #🎠chatter