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cyb3rspyd3r · 9 months

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" so pretty mami ."

✰ request: Hii! I was wondering if you could do a miles 42 x black reader, who always has braids in her hair and one day while shes taking out her braids miles is there and he keeps looking at her and like telling about how much he loves her hair natural etc. thank youuuu 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

a/n: i love this req so so soo much so ty anon for requesting !

pairing: e!42 miles x blk! fem reader

miles = purple you = pink (your name for the story is stormi/mimi)

a/n: i love yall's requests sm , also if any shifters follow me feel free to say sum cs i love shifterss , i love my spiderverse dr

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you had been in the bathroom for a while , miles was concerned so he called your name from the living room , not getting a response so he swiftly went upstairs to see where his girlfriend was.

"ma?" he wondered around the house , looking for you but not seeing any slight , a hint of confusion tinting his face. "mamii where you at stop hidin" he walked past the bathroom door , taking a double take at it after seeing light coming from the bottom of the door.

miles slowly opened the door , seeing the sight of you taking out your last braid, sighing in relief , frustration , and stress all at once. the rest of your hair was out in a fro to the side , you had so much hair you could barely see through it. miles stared in awe , slightly closing the door back so you wouldn't notice him staring at you.

he noticed the airpods in your ears , which is most likely why you didn't respond to him. miles has never seen you natural hair , so this was a beautiful sight to him. he couldn't help but admire you , there was never a time where miles couldn't keep his eyes off you.

you were finally done with the last braid , sighing deeply while smiling , shaking your fro in happiness that you were finally done. miles grinned , walking slightly into the bathroom some more , leaning against the door waiting for you to turn around.

you picked up the plastic bag which held your hair that had came out due to your hair texture , and the old braided hair.

you turned around , and jumped a little due to the sight of miles. "how long have you been here.." you said , taking an airpod out.

"a good 20 seconds..ig" he lied , knowing he'd been admiring you for quite a while now.

he walked over to you , smiling and putting his arms around your waist looking at you. "your're so clingy somedays" you sighed while laughing , placing the bag down and kissing miles , causing him to bring his hand to your hip , the other one moving up your waist. as he pulled away , he looked at you once again , you hair , face , features , everything.

"so pretty mami .." he mumbled through a grin , brushing your hair out of your face.

#atsv #miles x reader #miles morales #e42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #spiderman atsv #into the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #shifting realities #maniitalks

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moralesluvr · 11 months

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JUST YOU AND ME | MORALES ❥

♡ pairings & aus: miles morales x fem!afrolatina!reader ♡ summary: miles is late to your date again, even after you've called numerous times. is his excuse really a good one, or have you had enough? ♡ warnings: miles being secretive, reader being all sad, a little angst with a happy ending! ♡ a/n: first miles fic! lmk how you like it! ♡ got a request? | masterlist in the works! ♡

YOU LOOKED IN the mirror with piercing eyes, judgingly nitpicking your third outfit choice of the night. Your arms fell by your sides in defeat, a freshly manicured thumb slipping into the waistband of your onyx Dior skirt. Although you were sure you could’ve found a better outfit, time was plotting against you, Twirling on your heel, you examine your final choice of outfit before your lips curl into a merely satisfied knot, “It’ll do.”

Strutting over to your closet, you quickly grab a pair of knee-tall, heeled boots, along with your leather jacket and a silver bag. Anxiety courses through your veins when your reminder goes off on your phone, Siri’s monotone voice reading aloud- “Date with Miles, 6:30 pm.”

A string of curses tumble off your lips as you hurriedly sat on the half-deflated bean bag chair that was tossed in the corner of your room for a reason. You unzipped your boots, slipping them on quickly before requesting that Siri call your boyfriend while you tried to scavenge for your keys.

“Calling ‘Mi corazón.’” Siri announced, the poorly spoken Spanish filling your ears. You chuckled as the phone rang, nimble fingers wrapping around your car keys and the keychain that Miles got for you. It was a picture of you two hugging in black in white, the back reading, “I love you.”

“Hello?” You heard your lover groggily mumble from the other side of your room.

“Hey baby!” You shouted from afar, slipping your bag onto your shoulders, “You about ready to go? You weren’t sleeping, were you?”

You heard Miles grumble, accompanied with shuffling of sheets, “Uh, no, no- of course not, mi amor. Me levantaré, lo prometo.”

“I BELIEVE YOU, BUT MILES, PLEASE DON’T BE LATE.” You whispered, mouth moving only scarcely as your top row of teeth sank into your bottom lip. You walk over to your nightstand and scoop your phone up, holding it up your ear, “Please. This is our fifth rescheduled date.”

“I know, I know,” Miles murmurs, “Lo siento, mami- I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Oh? You promise? I better see you in thirty, then.” You almost chuckle, but the seriousness strained in your voice overpowered the comedic aspect of your statement. You blew a kiss into the phone, “Te amo. Leaving now.”

“Te amo tambien.” Miles says, the line going dead.

You stuff your phone into your purse and head for your front door, calling out to whomever was home that you were going out and should be back before ten. You shut the door behind you, stepping out into the spring sun, its bright aura soaking every inch of your skin. You smile, walking over to your car and getting inside.

You slam your car door shut, waltzing over to the fancy restaurant that awaited before you. The lights inside were dimmed with elegance, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling that shone brightly atop minimalistically decorated tables. You opened the door to the place as two women dressed in all black greeted you with bright smiles and preppy ‘Hello!’s.

“Hi, I have a reservation tonight for two at 7:00?”

The blonde out of the two checks her iPad, nodding when she sees your reservation, “Y/N, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Right. Follow me, please!”

You stay close behind the girl as she leads you to your table. She gestures for you to sit, “Here you are. My name is Mimi if you need anything, I’ll be back to take your order when the other person gets here. Enjoy!”

You smile at her as you sit down, “Thank you so much.”

She disappears into the darkness behind the restaurant while you wait idly, fingers tapping against the soft material of the table’s cloth. The clock on the wall reads 6:47, meaning that Miles has exactly thirteen minutes before he’s officially late. Or, right on time.

Minutes pass, each second feeling like half of an eternity. You reach for your purse that rests on your chair, your fingers wrapping around your phone. You fish it out and click on Miles’ contact, bringing the device up to your ear.

You expect him to answer, to be on the other side of the phone, to ask where you were sitting because he was already there. Ready to make it up to you.

But instead, his voicemail rang through your ears. You were worried at this point– what else could he possibly be doing?

You click on the messaging app, eyelashes batting in an attempt to blink away the tears that were brimming in the underskirts of your eyes.

[you] to mi corazón: hey where are you? [you] to mi corazón: miles? [you] to mi corazón: it’s like 7:10. are you in traffic or sum? lmk read.

Your jaw swung open when you saw that he left you on read. Was he mad at you? Was it a family emergency? Why was he blowing you off?

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into an hour. You waited up for him in hopes that he would walk through those doors dressed up, flowers in hand, telling you why he was late for your date that he promised he wouldn’t be late to or miss.

But that never happened.

You had already eaten and paid by the time the clock hit half past eight. You rose out of your seat and bid the friendly waitresses adieu, slipping a twenty onto the front counter on your way out.

Your heart was breaking in your chest. This was now the sixth time that Miles had blown you off on a date, and you were fed up with the apologies that had no meaning or a valid excuse. On the way home, all your happy memories with your boyfriend flashed before your eyes. All the times he held you, comforted you, kissed you. Did all those things even matter now? Clearly not.

When you unlocked the door, your mother was propped up on a chair at the island, glasses on the tip of her nose as she read. Her eyes drifted to your sad ones as you walked in.

“¿Estás bien mija?” She cocked her head to the side, “Where’s Miles?”

Sighing, you sunk into the velvety cushions of your couch, “I don’t know, mama, he blew me off again.”

“Ese niño…I’m sorry, mija.”

You give her a downturned smile as you rise to your feet, “It’s okay, really, I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

Your mother starts to say something, but you’re already halfway up the stairs before she can even get the first word out. You slam your door shut and the tears immediately fall, warming your cheeks.

Throwing your bag onto your bed, you unzip your boots with a sniffle, tossing them onto your oh-so-useless beanbag. You slip out of your jacket and throw that on top of the boots, plopping onto your bed.

You felt hopeless.

You curled up into a ball for what seemed like hours on end, scrolling through social media mindlessly in an attempt to distract you from today’s earlier events, although all you could think about was Miles.

You slipped underneath your throw blanket and closed your eyes before you heard two familiar voices sounding from your living room.

“...ten cuidado mijo. Creo que está molesta, pero yo también lo estaría.”

“Yo entiendo. ¿Puedo ir a verla?”

You perked up when you heard your boyfriend’s voice. Why was he here? It was nearly eleven o'clock.

“Sí, pero si está durmiendo, no la molestes. Ella te quiere, lo sabes. Cuida, por favor.”

The air is thick with silence for a moment before you hear footsteps approach your bedroom door. You curl up into a ball and contemplate whether or not you were going to let your boyfriend in, or pretend to be asleep.

Two soft knocks sound from the other side of your door, “Amor? Hey, it’s me…Miles. Are you asleep? Espero que no…” he mutters the last part.

You sigh, starting for the door sheepishly, your fingers turning the knob as you opened the door.

His eyes immediately met yours. They were a little red, and at first, you didn’t notice the purple bruise forming on the outskirts of his eye. You bring your fingers up to it slowly, and he flinches when you touch him.

“Miles, come here.” You murmured, walking into your bedroom and plopping onto your bed. He follows, shutting the door behind him. He crawls next to you, arms open, ready to engulf you in his embrace– but you just stare at him half-heartedly.

“I know–”

“Explain.” You cut him off, “Now.”

He sighs, “Mami…I know I owe you one. It wasn’t right for me to blow you off, but somethin’ came up and I really couldn’t get out of it. For real.”

Your fingers come up to rub your temples out of stress and annoyance, your lack of patience showing through your blank expression.

“I’m trying to understand, but this isn’t making any sense. No me mientas, por favor. Just tell me the truth and I won’t be mad, swear.” You huffed, waiting on him to give you the truth that you had been waiting for since months ago. All this time being wasted, all these promises coming to the surface as lies, all these–

“I’m Spider-Man.”

The sentence shocks you so bad that you almost throw up. Your eyes stretch into the size of saucers, “You what?”

“I’m..Spider-Man.” Miles repeats. You think it’s a practical joke by the way he just said it so blunt, but something about his demeanor screamed that he was telling the truth. You cock your head to the side, “Dios…you better explain this to me right now!”

Miles nearly whines your name to get you to stop overreacting. You’re nearly fuming, and nervous and confused all at once– so honestly, who could blame you?

“I was bitten by some weird spider when I was painting a while ago. And then basically, I got all these sick spider powers, and that’s why I’m always gone. I’m sorry– I should’ve told you earlier, but I just wanted to protect you, precioso.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. The random disappearances, the bruises and cuts, the not-so-hidden suit that you accidentally found around October. It was Miles’ lucky day, because he said that it was just a “late minute backup costume” for Halloween.

“Oh..I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” You murmured, scooching closer to your boyfriend. You brought your hand up to his eye again, and this time, he didn’t flinch. Your thumb grazed his eyelid, “Stay and hold me? No spider stuff tonight?”

“No spider stuff tonight, cariño.” He wraps his arms tightly around you as you bury your head in his chest, legs intertwined in between his, “Just you and me.”

Your eyelashes bat before you find yourself falling asleep, the last thing you feel being Miles’ lips plant a soft kiss onto your forehead.

my taglist is open if you would like to join it! just send me a message or an ask <3 have a good day!

#spiderman #spiderman into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x black!reader

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cutiecorner · 5 months

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For your one word challenge:

Napping?

(Idk I'm a sucker for the sleepiness)

Here's a teensy Miles with his mommy ♡ AU/future where his parents know he's spiderman. note: I'm bad at spanish, sorry! Translations are supposed to be "always my little student" and "this kid".

“Miles, baby, I think you need a nap.”

Rio looked at her exhausted son, practically falling asleep on his chem homework. He was on a school break, but there were no breaks for spiderman. With two villains this week, he was more than a little tired, but there was still work to be completed. Since finding out he was spiderman, his parents have been a little more lenient on his grades. He still didn’t want to fall behind thought. Siempre mi pequeño estudiante, Rio thought fondly. She put a gentle hand on his back. He pouted and rubbed his eyes.

“Mami I’m fine, really,” he mumbled.

“Mmm,” Rio hummed, “ok, ok, but let mami help,” Rio sat down, looking over his papers.

She pulled her chair a little closer, and he rested his head on her shoulder. His dreary eyes were almost shutting on their own. She smiled. Este niño. She started to edit his homework but made no move to scooch him off, speaking softly and calmly to lull him to sleep. Her evil plan was working, Miles drifting in and out of consciousness, his head getting heavier on her shoulder. She kissed him on the temple.

“Mimi time, papi.”

“Mimi…” Miles mumbled.

She put an arm around her son and helped him up, leading him back to his room. He collapsed onto his bed and curled up into his usual sleeping position. Rio chuckled, and pulled up the blanket to keep her baby warm.

#agere #fandom agere #agere fandom #marvel agere #spiderverse agere #itsy bitsy spider #agere fanfic #agere fanfiction #ficlets

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sassisleepshigh · 7 months

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Meme mimi Mama mamy mummy mommy mum's (mine)

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cecexwrites · 1 month

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Maite's family

The Grandparents: Lito & Tati Contreras (Juan & Leticia Contreras)

The Blueprint Siblings: Tia Jimi, Mami (Tia Jaci), Tio Ru & Tia Pia (Jimina Contreras-Hayworth, Jacinta Contreras-Herrera, Raul Contreras & Paloma Contreras)

The Spouses (Or spouse adjacent): Tio Rocket, Dad (JJ) & Roommate (Orlando Hayworth, Jason Herrera & Jennifer Rhodes)

The Siblings 2 (Electric Boogaloo): Eddie, Rocco, Mimi, August & Max (Eduardo, Rocco, Maite, Augustin & Max Contreras-Herrera)

The Cousins: Bacon, Lala & Baby (Logan Hayworth, Mila & Arielle Contreras-Hayworth)

#maite contreras herrera #I love them all so much #mila max and arielle are also going to join glee club in various seasons #for anyone curious logan is Rocket's son from a previous relationship #I need to name this story/series

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every-character-ever-poll · 9 months

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WEEK FOUR LINEUP

Some minor changes this week, we have officially retired the SEE RESULTS option on the polls, down to five options. I probably won't be adding any new options unless there's a very good reason or high demand, so I'm sorry to the people who have asked for a "I know them and I love them with all my heart, positive cannot contain the love I have for them" option. With that being said, here is this week's lineup!

Mimi - Your Imaginary Friend

Tsubasa Arihara - Cinderella Nine

Tablet - Commodity Clash

Fox Alistair - RWBY

Alan B'Stard - The New Statesman

Sportacus - LazyTown

Tougou Mimori - Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero & Washio Sumi is a Hero

Rottytops - Shantae

Naomasa Tsukauchi - Boku no Hero Academia

Hagumi Hanamoto - Honey and Clover

Bellringer - Toontown Corporate Clash

Tarlach - Mabinogi

Ata Ibusuki - Binan Koukou Chikyuu Boueibu Happy Kiss

J - Heat Guy J

Mami Tomoe - Madoka Magica

Rocket Raccoon - Marvel Cinematic Universe

Princess Elle - Hirogaru Sky Precure

Phèdre nó Delaunay - Kushiel's Legacy series

Rex Mohs - Scott the Woz

Eileen Roberts - Regular Show

Waluigi - Super Mario

Rick - Denpa Men

Great Sage - Miitopia

Sidon - Legend of Zelda

John F. Kennedy - Clone High

Greg Heffley - Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Martin - Wii Sports

Yellow Face - Battle for Dream Island

Eraser - Battle for Dream Island

9-Volt - WarioWare

Luigi - Super Mario

Milo Murphy - Milo Murphy's Law

Rigby - Regular Show

Holidog - Holiday World

Jerry Attricks - Scott the Woz

Jeb Jab - Scott the Woz

Peter Griffin - Family Guy

Baljeet Tjinder - Phineas and Ferb

Gary - Regular Show

Skelly - I Spy Spooky Mansion

Max Schnell - Cars 2

Charley - Incredibox

10th Doctor - Doctor Who

Mii Brawler - Super Smash Bros

Miles Morales - Into and Across the Spiderverse

Party Phil - Wii Party

Lego Joker - Lego Batman

Knife - Inanimate Insanity

Fusk and Vorte - Hitmen for Destiny

Chaika Trabant - Hitsugi no Chaika

Jesse Pinkman - Breaking Bad

Agent - Penguinronpa

Squelch - Denpa Men

Muscle Man - Regular Show

Fuuta Kajiyama - MILGRAM

Jonathan Phaedrus / Prof - The Reckoners

David Charleston - The Reckoners

Spensa - Skyward

M-Bot - Skyward

Chet Starfinder - Skyward

Sirius Gibson - Witch’s Heart

Guy Montag - Fahrenheit 451

Zachary Zatara - DC Comics

Kento - Payday 2

The Shapeshifter - The Odd Squad

Akane Kurashiki - Zero Escape Trilogy

Letitia "Letty" Price - Babel

The Last Son of Alcatraz - The Monument Mythos

Lily - Duolingo

Ohio - The United States of America

Myne - Ascendance of a Bookworm

Rani - Disney Fairies

Agrael/Raelag - Heroes of Might and Magic

Donna - RErideD: Tokigoe no Derrida

Kasane Teto - Vocaloid

Martin the Warrior - Redwall

Colombo - Colombo

Sonny Wortzik - Dog Day Afternoon

Butch Cassidy - Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid

Blondie - The Good The Bad and The Ugly

Prior Walter - Angels in America

Dark - Nowhere

Reona West - PriPara

Shax Lied - Mairimashita! Iruma-Kun

Villager - Minecraft

Wahanly Shume - Tenchi Muyo! War on Geminar

Qifrey - Witch Hat Atelier

Marvin - In Trousers

Mr. Bungee - A New Brain

Mayor Mingus - Dialtown

KAITO - Vocaloid

Almond - Postknight 2

Serial Designation V - Murder Drones

Flint - Postknight 2

Magnolia - Postknight 2

Nobara Kugisaki - Jujutsu Kaisen

Snufkin - The Moomins

Ikabod Kee - The Upturned

The Professor - Hailey's On It!

Chimumu - Waccha PriMagi

Mia Taylor - Love Live

#not a poll #the week ahead

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bitter69uk · 4 months

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Died on this day: voluptuous mid-20th century actress and pin-up Anita Ekberg (29 September 1931 - 11 January 2015). In the fifties, the statuesque Swedish sex goddess reigned alongside peers Mamie Van Doren, Jayne Mansfield and Diana Dors as one of atomic-era Hollywood’s preeminent glamour queens. By the early sixties, Ekberg was triumphing in Europe, splashing in the Trevi fountain alongside Marcello Mastroianni in Federico Fellini’s visionary masterpieces La Dolce Vita (1960) and later Boccaccio ’70 (1962). (Fellini was perhaps the only director who knew how to properly utilize her charms). But as a connoisseur of cinematic perversity, I love Ekberg at her gloriously wooden best in the serial killer shocker Screaming Mimi (1958) and later bargain basement Eurotrash horror movies Fangs of the Living Dead (1969) and Killer Nun (1979). (I still haven’t seen the promising-sounding The French Sex Murders (1972)). Even in these indignities, as author Sam Staggs puts it, Ekberg “can steal any scene just by standing still.” In 1999 the BBC made a documentary about Ekberg, capturing her craggy temperamental monstre sacré later years. She clearly relished trashing her erstwhile rivals. (Asked about Sophia Loren, she replies, “Who is that?” On Brigitte Bardot: “she was pretty. You can’t say beautiful. She was – how you say? – very “Barbie.””). After gossip columnist extraordinaire Michael Musto experienced the brunt of her diva’s wrath in 1999, he rechristened her “Anita Yecch-berg.” Still, you can’t help but love her – Anita Ekberg made the world a more glamorous place.

#anita ekberg #old show biz #old hollywood #classic hollywood #golden age hollywood #la dolce vita #swedish actress #sex goddess #voluptuous #lobotomy room #pin up #glamour

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bestmusicalworldcup · 2 months

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youtube

Highlights from Jelly's Last Jam, currently playing at the New York City Center.

As an Encores! production, it has a stacked cast including Nicholas Christopher as Jelly Roll Morton, John Clay III as Jack the Bear, Alaman Diadhiou as Young Jelly, Joaquina Kalukango as Anita, Tiffany Mann as Miss Mamie, Okieriete Onaodowan as Buddy Bolden, Billy Porter as Chimney Man, and Leslie Uggams as Gran Mimi. Original Broadway cast members Mamie Duncan-Gibbs, Stephanie Pope Lofgren, and Allison M. Williams reprise their roles as the Hunnies.

Rumors of a Broadway transfer have been floating about, even reaching the New York Times.

#jelly's last jam #musicals #not a poll #Youtube

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seariii · 2 months

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SEARIIIII HIIIIIII !!!!!!!!!!! i m the curious curios boy who is very nosy and want s to know everything forveee hhow mamy siblings do you have and do you have pets if you dont have do you want pets do you like manga or anime more and and what do you like to do in your free timee and when did you get into milgram and final most important. Do you love mee sooo muchchh 🩷🩷🩷🩷

MIMIIIIII HIIIIIIIII *hugs you*

I have 2 siblings!!!! I am the middle child, yup!

I have two pet turtles!! They are Kuro and Midori! I received them from a valentine's exchange about.... 8?? Years ago!! Damn that's been a while

I think I prefer anime! It's easier for my monkey brain to focus on one thing because it catches two of my senses, unlike with manga is just one and my brain kinda powers off sometimes when I'm reading... But I quite enjoy manga too! I just don't read it often

On my free time.... Im basic JAJAJAJAJAJA listening to music, drawing, watching streams, singing, sleeping, talking with friends, rotting on my bed as I watch tie time fly away!!! Oh and playing videogames!!!

I got into Milgram a month before Cat dropped!! Approx... So yep! A little bit already! Almost like 6 months?? Idk

*holds your hand and gets on one knee* Mimi, not only do I love you, I adore you and I would die for you. I will be your knight and defend you against anything

#sorry i wanted to be dramatic #MY HEAD HURTS *cries*#i wanted to send you a question too but i never know what to ask i suck at talking with people #seari answers

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maddogsociety · 12 hours

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J'ai donné un cours de dessin à une petite mamie. Trop mimi !!! J'ai eu un peu envie de pleurer parce qu'elle m'a rappelé ma mamie. Mais bon. Trop chou la petite dame !!

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naarcissa · 1 month

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Tienes perrits o gatits?

siii:

perrito: pochi

gatitxs:

- mía

- mimi

- michu

- killua (yo soy su mami y le digo baby killua)

si quieren fotos puedo poner de mi bebito asesino

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vegaspie · 4 months

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VEGAS BABY HIHI!!!! HOW ARE YOU MY LOVEEEE

MIMI LUUVVVVV HIIIIIIIIILOOOO🤍 !!!!!!!!!

IM GOOD IM GOOD. trying to find headers so i can start writing again, hopefully i don't go into a writing slump puhuhuhu. other than that, it's the weekend so im chilling before finals start again for me in two days :< HOW ARE YOUUU MAMI?!

#vegas answers #mimi !

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rokenrol · 1 year

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Aida Šečić Nezirević: Zaboravi Alinu

Moj sin Karim sprema kafu. Posmatram ga dok vadi teglicu smeđeg praha iz kuhinjskog ormarića koji sam, iz čiste dosade, prelijepila tapetama šarenog dezena. Šarena kuhinja s motivom Ajfelovog tornja podsjeća me na jedno i jedino putovanje u taj grad, prije dvadeset pet godina. Sjećam se plača jedne žene u autobusu, kojoj su javili da joj je iznenada umrla majka. Sjećam se i kako sam se čudila činjenici da je Mona Liza zapravo prilično mala slika. Karim zvecka kašičicama, lupka ladicom, sipa sitni bijeli šećer u naše šolje. Prvo mojoj mami, meni, pa sebi.

Moja mama nije umrla. Ili jeste? Sjedi, stoji, hoda i govori, ali mi ne znamo šta govori. Umro je, nakon teškog moždanog udara prije tristo dana, njen razum. Moj sin Karim donosi kafu na sto.

„Šta bismo sad mogli raditi?“, pita.

Kad sam imala dvadeset četiri godine, dobila sam kćerku Alinu. Pri rođenju, bila je teška tri kilograma i tristo pedeset grama. Bezbrojne sam sate provela s njom, vozeći je u ljubičastim kolicima, na Vilsonovom šetalištu. Moja Alina imala je najljepšu boju kose na svijetu – onu starog zlata. Ili meda, kako hoćete. Presijavala se i vječno joj padala niz malena, uspravna leđa. Rijetko ju je vezivala u rep. Podsjećala je na princeze iz one prve debele Diznijeve knjige koju sam imala kao dijete. Uživala sam češljati moju kćerku. Alinin je tata bio moj dečko i poginuo je u saobraćajnoj nesreći kad je Alini bilo sedam mjeseci. Policajci s plavim kapama šablonski su nam zakucali na vrata i šablonski kazali da im je žao. Mrzim šablone, mrzim formule, mrzim redaradi. Ja sam ta koja je ostala. Ostala bez njega. Ostala kad su svi tješitelji otišli. Ali sam znala da će suze proći. Uostalom, imala sam ono što mnoge mlade samohrane majke nisu. Posao lektorice u jednoj maloj ali uspješnoj izdavačkoj kući. Rješenje je u pomirenju, rekao je neko. I ja sam se pomirila. Smrt sam prihvatila onako kako sam prihvatila i život. Smrt svog oca. Smrt Alininog oca.

Jedino nisam mogla prihvatiti gubitak Aline.

„Možda da pogledamo neki film“, kažem i prinosim šoljicu usnama. Kafa je dobra i vrela, a mi imamo vremena napretek. Možemo pogledati i pet filmova, jedan za drugim. Jutros je Karim odslušao svoja onlajn predavanja. Ja sam imala snage lektorisati šesnaest stranica romana na kojem trenutno radim i zaključila da je za jutro dosta gramatike, pravopisa, slovnih grešaka i stila. Poklopila sam laptop. Nakon toga sam oprala mami stražnjicu, promijenila joj pelenu, uhvatila je za ramena kad su joj bosa stopala zaplesala po mokrim pločica i dala joj terapiju, skrivenu u puding od čokolade. Zadihala sam se.

„Može“, kaže Karim i mijenja kanale, nalazi Dječaci ne plaču.

„Ovo?“, pita.

„Ne baš“, kažem ja.

Smiješimo se.

Moja kćerka Alina sa pet se godina voljela igrati pez-figuricama. Poredala bi ih u krug, male lutke s kutijicama umjesto tijela, i igrala se porodice. Helo Kiti bi bila kćerka, šerif Vudi tata, Barbi mama, i tako redom. Ona bi mahala ručicama i klamparala jezikom, udahnjujući lutkama život. A meni bi ruke podrhtale.

Sa šest je krenula u školu, kod punačke smeđokose učiteljice zelenih očiju. Kad bi se vratila, zajedno bismo pisale njenu zadaću, a zatim bismo crtale sve što bi nam padalo na pamet. Uspavljivala sam se milujući joj meku kosu, katkada pjevušeći: Moja draga sad je u Japanu, a katkad joj pričajući bajke o malim stopalima, imenom Mini i Mimi, koja putuju svijetom. Zaspale bismo nos uz nos, a ja bih prelazila prstom po linijama njenog lica i vrata. Moja kćerka. Moja Alina.

Došao je jednog vikenda, iz svojeg iznajmljenog stančića na periferiji, da pokupi neke stvari iz svoje stare sobe i da „obiđe baku“. Bilo je to prije mjesec i pol dana. Prije toga, cijelih pet godina, moj sin Karim i ja gotovo da nismo razgovarali. I kad jesmo, kao sredstvo konverzacije koristili smo vrištanje.

„Ti patiš za Alinom. Ti mene ne voliš. A ni ja više ne volim tebe“.

„Zašto onda dolaziš u moj stan? Idi!“

„Dolazim da vidim baku, glupačo! Ona me voli. Ovo nije tvoj stan, nego njen stan“.

„Ne govori mi da sam glupača! Mater sam ti“.

„Ne. Ja nisam tvoje dijete. Tvoje dijete je Alina“.

Moja mama, dok je još bila zdrava, uvijek je stajala na stranu moga sina Karima. Čudno, jer kad sam ja, u svojoj mladosti, kidala konvencije i rušila predrasude, bivala je zaprepaštena.

„Sine“, govorila je tada, „sine, to nije uredu. Šta će svijet kazati, sine?“

Uvijek bih u tim trenucima dobivala želju da vrisnem iz sveg glasa da ja nisam „sin“, ali sam se suzdržavala jer sam sebe ubijedila da me nije bitno šta ona misli ili kaže. Nije mi, kasnije, bilo važno ni šta misli Karim. Jedino što sam htjela bilo je da se vrati Alina.

„Ne možeš da je zaboraviš“, nastavljao je Karim, s mješavinom zlobe i gorčine. „Samo o njoj misliš. Rugaš se baki i govoriš da je zaostala, a ti si, ustvari, ona koja je zaostala. Tvoje kćerkice više nema. Shvati. Nema je, nema je, nema je“.

Unosio mi se u lice, izazivajući me da mu udarim šamar. Nisam to učinila. Zašto bih? Imao je pravo. Alina više ne postoji. Odlazila sam u svoju sobu posve mirno, tiho zatvarala vrata i lijegala na krevet s njenim plišanim bijelim medvjedićem na podlaktici. Bio joj je omiljena igračka i nije znala zaspati bez njega. Samo sam njega zadržala. Ostalo je završilo u kontejneru. Milovala sam ga i pjevušila mu: Moja draga sad je u Japanu …

Sa petnaest se godina moja kćerka Alina upisala u jednu od sarajevskih gimnazija. Imala je dobre ocjene, ali se od mene počela udaljavati. Za to sam krivila njezino društvo. Kad sam je izgubila, mrzila sam ih više nešto sam mislila da mogu mrziti. Zašto nisam bolje pazila s kime se druži? Zašto je nisam kontrolisala, upozoravala, uhodila? Zašto? Zašto? Zašto?

Neposredno nakon Karimovog vikend-dolaska, stigla je naredba da se ostane u kućama. I Karim je bio prisiljen ostati sa mnom, ma koliko da je to mrzio. Uselio se u staru dječiju sobu, poredao je svoje knjige i skripte po radnom stolu, navukao tamnoplavu dječačku posteljinu na do tada ogoljen krevet. Moja mama je bila radosna. Sreća joj je kipila iz bezrazumnih očiju. Mene nikad, ni u trenucima punih zdravlja, nije tako gledala. Bila sam drska. Bila sam neposlušna. Vanserijska. Mimo svijeta. Ni kad je oboljela, nije postala nježnija. Ja sam joj brisala guzicu, mijenjala joj pelene pune žute, smrdljive mase, vadila joj iz usta protezu, čistila sline iz nosa, ali nisam zasluživala sreću u njenim očima.

Nestala je kad joj je bilo osamnaest. Činila sam sve što sam mogla da je nađem, da je vratim. A mogla sam jedino plakati. Ostavila mi je srebrenaste strije ispod pupka i dvije pojedene izdužene dojke, jednu dužu od druge, kao dokaz da je bila tu. Moja kćer. Moja Alina.

Trideset sedam dana nakon početka izolacije, koja za mene to i nije bila jer sam išla u poštu, u banku, u prodavnicu, dobila sam temperaturu. Počeli su me boljeti kukovi, toliko da nisam mogla ni sjediti ni ležati ni hodati duže od deset minuta. Morala sam, ipak, otići u dva kilometra udaljenu ambulantu, da mi se uspostavi dijagnoza. Tu je nastao problem. Nisam smjela voziti, u strahu da bi mi u autu moglo pozliti, nisam smjela ni sjesti u tramvaj, bilo bi to neetički. Otišla sam pješice, jedva. Kašljala sam. Pitali su me s kim živim. Rekla sam. Bolesna stara majka i – sin. Nijedno nema simptome. Boravim u svojoj sobi. Ležim jer nemam snage ustati. Rekli su mi da nastavim tako. Da se izolujem. Neka mi hranu ostavljaju pred sobnim vratima.

Zaražena čudnim, novim virusom od kojeg se umire dok dlanom od dlan, legla sam u krevet. Možda. Ću. Umrijeti. Zvučalo mi čudno, ali naviknut ću se s vremenom. Rješenje je u pomirenju. Razmišljala sam kako bih trebala nekako otići do kuhinje i napraviti sebi šolju čaja. Razmišljala sam i o majci. Nekako bih je trebala, ne trebala nego morala, presvući. Nisam to učinila cijeli dan. Sigurno smrdi, sigurno je na žutom prekrivaču, prebačenom preko njene fotelje u dnevnom boravku, mokar krug. Smrdi. Kuća smrdi. Sve smrdi.

„Mama? Spavaš?“

Moj sin Karim stajao je na vratima s poslužavnikom na kojem je bio tanjur. Duboki tanjur s motivom poljskog sela, iz pribora koji je mama nekad davno donijela s ekskurzije u Krakovu. Pušilo se.

„Donio sam ti supu. Kako se osjećaš?“

„Ne mogu jesti“.

„Moraš“.

„Stalno kašljem“.

„Zato i moraš. Što više tečnosti. Da napojiš pluća, mama“.

Nosio je plavu masku preko nosa i usta. Spremao se da prekorači prag.

„Ne ulazi“, vrisnula sam, užasnuta mišlju da bi se i on mogao zaraziti, da bi mogao umrijeti.

„Onda ustani, uzmi i pojedi ovu supu. Molim te. Ne želim da odeš u bolnicu“.

Izgledao je tužno. Nakon što je otišao niz hodnik, poslušala sam ga.

„Mama“, nekoliko sati poslije ponovo se pojavio na pragu i zadovoljno pogledao prazan tanjur, „ja sam oprao i presvukao baku“.

„Jesi?“. O hvala ti, hvala ti, hvala ti.

„Jesam. Ona sad spava“.

Kad sam imala dvadeset tri godine, ostala sam trudna. Odmah sam znala da će biti djevojčica. Željela sam kćerku toliko da je svaka pomisao kako bih mogla roditi dječaka u meni izazivala očaj. Valjda zato što je moja majka uvijek više voljela mog brata nego mene. On je bio ljubazan. Poslušan. Drag i pitom. On je sad u Kamberi. Jeste, voljela ga je više nego mene. Valjda.

I očajnička želja mi se ispunila. Valjda.

Jednog je jutra temperature nestalo, a bol je prestala gristi moje kosti pri svakom majušnom pokretu. Odgegala sam u dnevnu sobu. Na televiziji se prikazivao „Lud, zbunjen, normalan“, neka od starijih epizoda. Mama je sjedila, sitnih, u naborano lice utisnutih očiju, i buljila u televizor poput nemirnog djeteta kojeg je najednom nešto jako zainteresovalo. Karim, moj sin, čitao je neku knjigu. Pred njim je bila kafa, pred mamom napola pojeden doručak.

„Zdravo“, rekla sam tiho.

„Zdravo“, rekao je moj sin skočivši na noge. „Kako si?“

„Već tri dana nemam temperaturu. Ništa me ne boli. Mislim da je najgore prošlo“.

„Drago mi je“.

„Hvala ti“.

„Nema na čemu, mama“.

Prišla sam mu. Sad je pravi trenutak. Sad.

„Mogu li te zagrliti … sine?“

Nije se trznuo, nije se iznenadio. Čudno, gledao me s razumijevanjem. I desilo se čudo. Više nisam bila tužna. Rješenje je u pomirenju.

„Naravno“, rekao je jednostavno.

Zagnjurila sam glavu u vrat svog transrodnog djeteta.

#aida šečić nezirević

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