How do we feel about an NSFW version of this Miguel? Hmmm? I mean, I heard you guys like it *spicy* He would be created and posted for our very first NSFW live on Patreon
More importantly, which Miguel would you choose? 1, 2, or 3?
How do we feel about an NSFW version of this Miguel? Hmmm? I mean, I heard you guys like it *spicy* He would be created and posted for our very first NSFW live on Patreon
More importantly, which Miguel would you choose? 1, 2, or 3?
How do we feel about an NSFW version of this Miguel? Hmmm? I mean, I heard you guys like it *spicy* He would be created and posted for our very first NSFW live on Patreon
More importantly, which Miguel would you choose? 1, 2, or 3?
How do we feel about an NSFW version of this Miguel? Hmmm? I mean, I heard you guys like it *spicy* He would be created and posted for our very first NSFW live on Patreon
More importantly, which Miguel would you choose? 1, 2, or 3?
Beauty and the Beast features my favorite love story and my favorite Disney Princess, so it holds a very special spot in my heart. So, itâs worth looking into the film to decide when the Movie is supposed to be set.
During the opening musical number âBelleâ, Belle is telling the Baker about the book sheâs been reading. Sheâs clearly describing Jack and the Beanstalk, the earliest version being the tale of âJack Spriggins and the Enchanted Beanâ in 1734. But she also deliberately mentions an ogre, not a giant. Near as I could find, the only version with an ogre was written by Joseph Jacobs in 1890, making Belle nearly contemporary to modernity. Belleâs excitement over the book is likely a sign that this is a new story.
During the same musical number, we see a sign depicting a tobacco pipe, but unlike with the Calabash pipe from the Little Mermaid movie. I could place it to possibly be a Billiard type, but the exact era of creation escapes me. However, tobacco pipes have been around as long as Tobacco has been introduced to European trade, starting in the 16th century.
The history of colored printing goes as far back as the 16th century, and there are illustrations from the early 1700s with an impressive variety of color that help establish a stronger time period. The book also shows the words Le Prince Charmant or Prince Charming. Prince Charming started being used in 1697 in Charles Perraultâs version of Sleeping Beauty, although there, Prince Charming was not a name. Rather, Perrault stated that the Prince was charmed by her words. The first story to use Prince Charming as a name is the Tale of Pretty Goldilocks. It was written at some point in the 17th Century by Madame dâAulnoy, but in her version the hero was named Avenant. It wasnât until 1889 when Andrew Lang retold the story that Avenant was dubbed as Charming. One year later in 1890, Oscar Wilde used the term âPrince Charmingâ sarcastically in his novel âThe Picture of Dorian Grayâ, meaning that the term had gotten its more modern meaning by this point in time.
Gastonâs musket is a Blunderbuss, which was invented in the early 1600âČs and remained popular through the 18th century before falling out of fashion in the middle of the 19th century. However, considering Belle states that this is a backwards town and Gaston is an old-fashioned, Primeval man, itâs possible heâs using a largely outdated weapon.
While there are no street lamps in the city, we can see in the background lanterns on the sides of buildings, which might allude to the movie taking place before the invention of gas lamps. However, gas lamps were invented in 1809, and if the version of Jack and the Beanstalk is from 1890, then by all accounts the town should have gas lamps. What this amounting evidence is leading me to believe is that the film is directly following the plot of the original fairy tale.
In the story, Beautyâs father is a merchant who loses his fortune due to a storm destroying his cargo. Theyâre forced to live on a farm until the merchant stumbles upon the Beastâs castle and kick starts the plot. In the opening song, Belle says âevery morningâs just the same, since the morning that we came, to this poor, provincial town.â This could mean that she grew up in a much more modern, urban, and progressive town. Possibly even Paris. But that after Maurice suffered severe financial trouble, he was forced to move them to the small, backwards town that was practically living an entire century behind the rest of France, which is why sheâs so bored and unimpressed by the little town. It helps explain why sheâs so eager to want to get out of this town and see the world. She wants to be part of the modern world again.
Interestingly, I can support this theory with background information. According to some of my research, Belleâs village was based on the little town of Riquewihr, France, which still looks like it did in the 16th century to this day. So the idea that Belleâs little village lacks so many modern elements could be a nod to the architecture of this sleepy French village that has remained largely untouched by the march of time. Hence why it looks more like something out of the 1700s despite the many elements from the 1800s being present.
During the song âBe Our Guestâ, Lumiere dances with a match stick. Match sticks were invented in 1805. Assuming the film still takes place in the 1890s, this would be concurrent with the other evidence weâve seen thus far. Later in the same song, the silverware makes an Eiffel tower, which was constructed in 1889. Since Jack and the Beanstalk was written after that, it still fits within the suspected time frame.
During the climax of the battle, Cogsworth is wearing military garments reflective of Napoleonic styles. Napoleon was coronated in 1804 until 1814, had a brief return to power in 1815, and eventually died in 1821. So this is also congruent to the established time period.
In the Youtube Video âFashion Expert Fact Checks Belle from Beauty and the Beastâs Costumesâ by Glamour, April Calahan, a Fashion Historian from the Fashion Institute of Technology directly noted that Belleâs yellow gown lacks the shape of a proper 18th century dress, and more closely resembles the shape of 19th century dresses, fitting into the evidence thatâs been mounting in support of a late 19th century setting.
As a part of his primary costume, Lefou wears a waistcoat and tailcoats, which came into vogue in the 1800s, namely from the 1840s through the 1850s.
But if the film is set in the 1800s, how can the Beast still be a prince after the French Revolution? Well something worth noting is that when he finds out that Belle isnât coming to dinner, the Beast storms through the halls to her room as Cogsworth calls after him as âYour Eminenceâ and âYour Graceâ. The address of âYour Eminenceâ is reserved for Cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church, and is an ecclesiastical style of address. âYour Graceâ is noticeably an English style of address, but itâs being used by Cogsworth who is British, so I can chalk that up to just part of his culture. Although it was used for British monarchs, it fell out of use during the reign of King Henry VIII (1509-1547) and after that, the use of âYour Graceâ became used to address archbishops and non-royal Dukes and Duchesses. Now clearly the Beast is not a cardinal or a bishop, especially if he is looking for the love of a woman to make him human, since itâs forbidden for Catholic priests to marry. So clearly that is not what is meant here. But the other answer actually does hold a bit of weight. Beastâs father was in fact, a Duke. So how is the Beast a prince? Heâs not. Not entirely. See, thereâs more than one kind of Prince in French nobility. Thereâs a Prince du Sang, or a Prince by Blood. Effectively, the Crown Prince, the sons of ruling monarchs. But the title is also given to lords in charge of a Principality, one of the smallest territorial sizes. The Beastâs principality probably only extends to having power over the little unnamed village. And with it being after the revolution, Beast might not even have the proper use of his title anymore. Heâs effectively a rich kid in a fancy house with no real authority or power. Heâs just old money from a by-gone era of human history. But if Beastâs address of âYour Graceâ is accurate, that would mean that heâs a non-royal Duke, meaning he would not likely have been executed during the Revolution, as his family would have essentially been governors or senators than actual monarchs. They just had jurisdiction over a small piece of the Kingdom of France and reported back to and obeyed the orders of their King. Thus, he would not have been important enough to be killed or chased out of power by the townsfolk.
CONCLUSION
The movie is set between the late autumn and early-to-mid winter of 1890. Although the snow is gone when Belle returns to the village, the trees are still bare, signaling that it may just be unseasonably warm, though it could be the very early spring of 1891 between the receding of the snow and the blossoming of new spring foliage. Between the books, clothing, and references made, my conclusion is that Belle is a very modern girl living in a backwards little town stuck in the past, thus why a village in 1890 looks so completely lacking in modern technology despite the era. The Prince is nothing more than a fancy title as the son of a Duke, and he likely has very little if any actual government authority. Essentially, Belle married into wealth, not power, and will never be a proper queen, and Iâm not sure if the wife of a lord ruling a principality is a princess or not, but I suspect the answer is no. Making Belle, like Mulan, a Disney Princess who did not marry royalty, was not born royalty, and thus, cannot be called a Disney Princess. Sheâs definitely a noblewoman, but sheâs not royal by any means.
Belle is 17 years old at the beginning of the film. If the film takes place in 1890, sheâll only be 41 years old when Duke Ferdinand is shot some 800 miles away. The Beast is barely four years older than Belle. Heâll be 45.Â
According to the Encyclopedia Britannica (by way of Wikipedia), âcostly battles on the Western Front forced France to conscript men up to the age of 45.â Itâs not impossible that The Beast sees combat during WWI. Trench warfare, gas warfare, no manâs land, all the horrors of front line at the dawn of the 20th century. Itâs entirely possible that Belle signs up with the Red Cross as a nurse, maybe utilizing a mechanical aptitude inherited from her father to aid in the war effort.
When Germany invades Poland, Belle and The Beast will be 56 and 60, respectively. In the spring of the following year, the Nazis invades France. They occupy castles and large estates across France, to use as both bases of operation and as strongholds to hoard stolen wealth (in the form of gold and art) and political hostages.
Do they have children, and if so whatâs become of them in this time of war?
Listen, what Iâm getting at here is that since theyâre both Disney properties, thereâs an entirely justifiable team up between Beauty and the Beast and Captain America.
You look around your apartment, making sure your place looks decent for the hundredth time. It smells good, you know that. Miguel told you so when he arrived earlier for breakfast with you. Unfortunately, he had to leave because you have a guest coming.
With a sigh, you return to your small kitchen to look at the coffee pot and freshly baked pastries you made for the occasion.
Despite spending the night in Nueva York at Miguelâs penthouse, you came back to your own place to bake because youâre expecting a person you never thought youâd be welcoming into your apartment ever again: Harry Osborn.
Itâs been some time since youâve seen him and ever since then, you decided to give him another chance. After debating for so long, you felt that it was right. At least, a part of you does. You have a feeling that neither Miguel nor the rest of the spider gang are happy with your decision because of Harry ditching you when you needed someone the most. You donât blame them. If you were in their shoes, youâd probably dislike Harry, but well, youâre not in their shoes and you know Harry personally. Thereâs history with him, all the way to elementary school years. How can someone ignore that? Yet again, Harry did once, you suppose. You ultimately decided to do this for Peter, for his sake.
You figured heâd be open to giving Harry another chance, to maybe find out what happened, though thatâs not a revelation youâre searching for right away. Youâre sure with time, Harry will share the reason for his abrupt exit from your life. Youâve wondered already what the reason or reasons were, but none of your own explanations make sense. There was never a reason for him to do such a thing; to walk out of your life like you were no one to him.
There were no signs and thatâs what made it hurtful, even if you were planning on cutting ties with him anyway when you thought you were doing everyone in your circle a favor by shutting them out. It came out of nowhere, just like your encounter with him that day at the flower stand, and now, youâre waiting for him to arrive to your home once more, so many years later.
You wipe the counter with a kitchen towel, feeling a bit anxious about this considering youâre practically strangers. Sighing heavily, you wish you were either going to be alone for the next hour or so, or back in Nueva York with Miguel at the penthouse.
You look at the spot where Miguel sat earlier during breakfast, the seat now empty. The two of you agreed that it was too soon for him and Harry to be introduced, at least in person and formally, so Miguel left about fifteen minutes ago.
Thatâs why youâre waiting for Harry alone, even though you wish you couldâve gone through the same multidimensional portal Miguel, who looked equally unenthusiastic about leaving you, opened. He didnât say anything, but you could see and sense the hesitation. He didnât want to leave you alone, but he had to.
Your cleaning ceases when you hear a knock at the door, realizing Harry is here. Breathing in and then out, you make your way to the door and look through the peephole to confirm. Seeing itâs Harry, you unlock and open the door with hesitation.
In front of you, Harry stares back at you, dressed in a business suit despite the fact that itâs Saturday, the second of November â DĂa de Los Muertos [Day of the Dead]. You notice heâs holding a bouquet of pretty flowers, but you donât pay any more attention to it beyond that. Meeting your gaze, Harry offers a small smile, which you return.
Then, at the same time you offer your hand for a handshake, Harry steps in for a hug. He ends up running into your hand, freezing at the formal gesture before backing away in embarrassment.
âSorry -â you start, lowering your hand.
âNo, Iâm sorry. I donât know why I did that,â Harry apologizes with an awkward smile. He steps back again and then, simply offers the flowers. âThese are for you. I was driving by the same little flower stand we ran into the other day, and I thought some flowers would be great since your building is back and running. Well⊠has been for a bit, but since I just arrived to the states, you knowâŠâ Harry trails off.
âThatâs thoughtful of you, thank you,â you answer, carefully taking the flowers. âCome in.â You gesture for him to enter, closing the door once heâs inside. You lead the way to the kitchen. âPlease take a seat. I have some coffee and freshly baked pastries.â
Behind you, Harry thanks you as he settles on the kitchen counter, taking one of the two chairs â Peterâs, or at least the chair that used to be his. âItâs so great to see you again,â Harry starts as you find a vase to place the flowers in. âI⊠Thank you for â for calling me back. I know you needed some time to think about it, and I⊠Iâm grateful to have heard back from you. To be here after all this time.â
âIâm glad to have you here,â you answer, giving Harry a smile before continuing to fix the flowers. âThank you for the flowers, by the way. Theyâre lovely.â
âOf course, Iâm glad you like them,â he answers.
âCoffee?â
âYes, please,â Harry replies, prompting you to withdraw two mugs from a cupboard, even though you already had one coffee with Miguel. You carefully pour the fresh coffee and fix some pastries on a plate before placing everything on the counter.
âIt smells great in here,â Harry comments, flashing you a grin when you place the mug in front of him. âIt always smelled amazing here though, with your great baking.â
You hum and offer a smile, staring at the man you never thought youâd see in this apartment again. Seeing him sitting in front of you, with the rest of the apartment behind him is a strange sight. You canât help but think that Harry looks out of place, even though there was a time in which he visited this place every weekend. He was once in photos that decorated your gallery wall, too. You swallow subtly. âThanks. Itâs the baking. Itâll make your home smell great for hours. And, the oven will warm up the place â so itâs perfect for the colder months, too.â
âYeah, I can see that. Itâs so cozy in here. It always was,â Harry says, looking around the kitchen for a few seconds, observing, or perhaps remembering the days he used to come over.
Youâre about to respond with another weak answer when thereâs a knock at the door. You both look equally surprise to hear it.
âAre you expecting someone else?â Harry asks, looking over his shoulder and at the door.
âNo,â you answer, putting your mug down and walking around the counter towards the door. âLet me see who it is. Might just be a neighbor,â you add, reaching the door. You peek through the peephole, feeling your spider senses act up probably out of the nervousness and awkwardness from this get together. You step back, unlocking the door while looking at Harry. âItâs your⊠Chauffeur? Butler?â
âFelix?â you hear Harry ask as you open the door to face the older man.
âHey,â you start softly. âCome in. Is something wrong?â you ask, wondering if thereâs an issue.
Brown eyes thoroughly scan your face, as if memorizing it. You remember this is the first time the man has seen you up close, so you disregard his focus on your face.
âFelix?â Harry says, standing next to you now. âWhatâs wrong?â
âForgive me, sir,â Felix says looking at Harry to address him before turning to you. âAnd maâam. Nothing is wrong. I noticed Mr. Osborn left his wallet at his apartment and decided to bring it to him since heâs driving.â
âOh, I couldâve sworn I did pick it up,â Harry says while Felix retrieves the wallet from his own suit. âI guess I was a little⊠Never mind. Thank you, Felix,â Harry continues, accepting the wallet and tucking it away. âShouldnât be driving around without a driverâs license, huh?â he asks, looking at you with a sheepish smile.
âCertainly not,â you answer, still standing there, feeling Mr. Felixâs eyes on you. âYou donât want a ticket.â
âDefinitely not,â Harry responds. âThank you, Felix. As always, youâre a lifesaver.â
âHappy to help, sir. Iâm sorry for my sudden appearance. I hope you and Ms. Y/N donât mind the interruption,â the man says, lowering his face slightly as a form of apology before straightening again. âI shall leave you two now and return to my duties.â
âWe donât mind,â you answer, giving him a nod of understanding. âItâs kind of you to have brought Harry his wallet.â
Felix turns to face you, eyes meeting yours. You silently decide heâs about fifty years old or so, based on his demeanor at least. He nods back. âJust doing my job, maâam, which I take very seriously.â
âToo seriously, sometimes, Felix,â Harry says with a bit of a chuckle, clasping his hand over the manâs shoulder. âHeâs a great man, Y/N. Heâs been working with me for years and I donât plan to let him go until he decides to retire, which he states he has no plans on doing, so, heâll be my right hand indefinitely.â
Offering a smile, you extend your arm to formally greet him, a sight that makes Harry wince internally when he remembers the awkward moment you both had earlier when he arrived. You introduce yourself and shake the manâs hand when he accepts yours.
âFelix. Felix Kerr,â he introduces himself, giving you a firm handshake while holding your gaze. âItâs a pleasure to make your acquaintance, maâam. I have heard nothing but wonderful things about you from Mr. Osborn and his father.â
âPleased to meet you, sir. And thatâs kind of you, and of Harry and Mr. Osborn,â you reply, withdrawing your hand and turning to Harry. âWeâve known each other since elementary.â
âA long time,â Harry says with a grin before he remembers that youâre not so acquainted with each other anymore. As if sensing his bossâs change, Mr. Kerr nods at him.
âIâll be at the apartment, sir. Please notify me if you need anything.â
âThank you, Felix. I doubt I will, but I appreciate it. Careful on your way back,â Harry softly says.
âWill do, sir. Maâam,â Mr. Kerr addresses you once more, nodding at you before turning on his heel and leaving.
âSorry about that,â Harry says as you gently close the door.
âItâs no problem, no need to apologize,â you answer. âYou needed your wallet. Please, take a seat. Again,â you say with a soft amused smile, trying to break down the awkwardness. âBefore the coffee and pastries gets cold.â
You both reach your previous spots again now that his personal assistant, or whatever title Mr. Kerr has, is gone.
Harry picks up his mug and takes a sip, smiling at you. âItâs great. Thank you for it.â
âYouâre welcome.â You smile slightly, twirling a spoon in your coffee. âSo⊠How was your trip? Did everything go smoothly?â you ask, hoping to make conversation, which you succeed because for the next thirty minutes, Harry tells you all about his trip from the elegant and luxurious hotel he stayed at, the food he ate, a brief summary of the business dealings, and what he did on his free time. You try to ask questions to keep the conversation going, showing interest. You figure this is a good way to begin to know the man in front of you again.
âBut enough about me. What have you been up to? How was your move-in?â Harry asks once heâs done telling you about the different historic locations he visited on his free time.
âIt went well. Smoothly,â you state. âI had to clean, a lot, but it didnât take me too long.â
âThatâs good to hear,â Harry says nodding, turning on his seat to look at the living room. âYou had⊠help, I hope?â
You look at the living room, not answering for a few a seconds. âYeah, I did. Thankfully,â you answer simply, not providing any more information beyond that, like how it was Miguel who helped you clean.
Harry hums and stands up, walking closer to the living room, still looking around. âIt looks so different,â he murmurs. âDespite the fact that itâs still the same place.â
âYeah⊠Itâs been some time since you were here,â you reply, opting to keep to yourself that only over a year ago you redecorated the place for the first time. You donât want Harry to know that you kept the apartment the same for years after Peterâs death, from the furniture to the placement of objects.
âI know,â Harry replies with a sigh, moving to touch the couch. âYouâve changed the couch.â
âI did,â you say, remembering that the old one is still at Miguelâs place in storage. Staring at the new one, you realize maybe itâs time to fully depart with the old one. You havenât even thought much about it. You suppose itâs true what some people say: out of sight, out of mind. Perhaps much like youâve been for Harry and him for you. âIt was time to replace it, unfortunately.â
Harry nods and turns around, his eyes landing on the gallery wall where photos that included him used to be displayed. Now, there are photos of your new friends. With interest, Harry gazes at them, walking closer.
You watch him carefully, knowing this will be the first time that Harry looks at the entire spider gang and Miguel.
âAre these â Are these your new friends?â Harry asks.
âYes,â you simply answer, moving so you can look at the photos, too. Your eyes spot the various photos that you left up since you made sure to remove every single photo in which you or any of your friends are wearing their super suits to avoid revealing your super hero identity and raising suspicions.
Harry nods again, his eyes stopping on a photo specifically â the one of Miguel and you with Mayday from New Yearâs Eve. âHm⊠That little kid again. What was her name again?â
âMayday.â
âMayday, thatâs rightâŠâ Harry trails off, still staring at the photo.
Based on his interest, thereâs no doubt in your mind that Harry is wondering about the man next to you in the photo, the one with the little kid on his shoulder.
âIs that her dad?â
âNo. That man isn't her dad. Her dad's name is â â you pause when you almost say Peter's name, realizing it might be weird for Harry to hear that you befriended a Peter after your own. âBenjamin. He's a good friend of mine along with his wife.â
âBenjaminâŠâ Harry hums at that. âIs this âMigâ?â Harry asks, reminding you of your first encounter with him at that flower stand after years of not seeing each other. You were grocery shopping with Mayday and after a bit of conversation, Harry invited you to a coffee shop for a drink. It was there that Harry asked about your living situation because he had learned about the fire to which Mayday eagerly replied with âMigâ â unfortunately revealing that you were staying at someoneâs place. Thankfully, Harry didnât prod for answers then. You recall his answer to Maydayâs simple response was that as long as you were safe, thatâs all that mattered.
Now, it seems that Harry wishes to know more, especially now that heâs seeing all these new faces on your gallery wall. It must be strange for him, you realize, to see that the people you both knew once â laughed, ate, shared jokes and memories with â are no longer part of this space, and instead, thereâs all these new people that are now your family, but strangers to him.
You stare at the photograph, at Miguel specifically. Thereâs no point in denying, or withholding information when youâve left all these photographs out. You didnât want to hide them. Hiding them would mean hiding the people whoâve brought you so much happiness, who have become your family. It didnât feel right to hide them, the small family who took you in when you were all alone and helped you be where youâre now, not even to protect the feelings of the stranger in your living room who you once knew so well.
âYes, his name is Miguel,â you finally say, not providing a last name. âAnd heâs my best friend,â you add, with a firmness and pride that leaves no doubt in Harryâs mind that you mean those words with every fiber of your being.
He turns to face you, tearing his gaze away from the man, Miguel, who seems to be in a lot of pictures with you. He hasnât failed to notice that, of course. He'd be blind to not notice that Miguel makes up a big portion of your gallery wall.
In fact, the number of photos this Miguel is in, is the same amount as Peter, your Peter.
âYour best friend,â Harry repeats, with that thought on his mind. This man is your best friend, and he along with Peter, make up the majority of your gallery wall. This man is part of the gallery wall just as much as Peter, your previous best friend and lover, is. That thought makes Harry grow still before his eyes flicker to your left hand for a second, as if searching for something. His gaze returns to your face when he finds nothing special, yet the idea doesnât abandon his head entirely. âIâm glad you have people to rely on,â he continues some seconds later, giving you a smile that doesnât quite reach his eyes, though you donât notice that. âThey seem like good people.â
âThey are. Theyâve been an amazing support system over the last few years,â you answer, turning to the gallery to scan your friendsâ faces. A smile, one so warm and gentle, so tender, forms on your face.
âYou truly seem happy,â Harry comments, taking notice of the smile. âIâm happy for you.â After a pause, Harry turns to the photos again. âSo⊠This is who you were staying with⊠This Miguel?â
âYes,â you simply reply. âWith Miguel.â
Nodding once more, Harry turns to face the photos again. His eyes scan every photo with the man. Thereâs the one with you and him and Mayday on New Yearâs Eve. Thereâs the two of you putting together some kind of furniture piece, which Harry quickly realizes is the new bookshelf in your living room.
The realization leads Harry to register the truth â this man is important to you and ingrained in your life, so much he's helped you build furniture for your apartmentâs new look, which seems like a too personal task. A task that only close friends, or a boyfriend, would do. At least, in his mind it seems that way.
Harry continues to look at the photos before his phone begins to ring, startling the two of you. He apologizes for the interruption before taking the call.
Remaining in the same spot, you listen silently. It seems to be about work.
âIâll be there soon,â you hear him say quietly. âSee you in a bit. Bye.â
Hearing him end the call, you turn to face him. âEverything okay?â
âYes⊠Yes, everything is okay. I just â I must go. Something came up at work,â Harry says, his tone apologetic. âIâm needed, so I must go now. Being the boss's son sometimes means work on Saturday. Iâm sorry for how abruptly Iâm departing.â
âThatâs alright. I understand. Work is work,â you answer, genuinely. âDo you want some of the pastries to go?â
âI â Do you mind?â he asks, slipping his phone into his jacketâs pocket.
âNot at all,â you say, quickly entering your small kitchen to pack some of the pastries for him. In seconds, you gather a few pieces and wrap them up for him to take. âHere you go.â You hand him the package. âI hope you enjoy them. Maybe you can give one to your dad. Tell him I said hi, by the way.â
Harry takes the package and nods. âThank you so much. I will. I told him I was coming here, so he knows. He was happy about it,â he says, giving you a smile before you both move to the door. Harryâs strides are long and quick, so much his handkerchief falls to the ground without his knowledge.
You stop and pick up the dark green piece of fabric. âHarry, you dropped your handkerchief.â
âOh, I didnât even realize,â Harry says, turning around to take it from your extended hand. He easily slips it back in place. âThank you. For that, and for the coffee and pastries. And for having me here, in your home.â He looks down at the package with pastries, trying to formulate the words before speaking. Once he gathers his thoughts, he looks up at you again. âThank you for the chance youâve given me â You have no idea how much it means to me, Y/N. Thank you,â he gently states, stepping closer and looking at you.
âIt was nice having you here,â you answer genuinely despite everything. âI hope you enjoyed the coffee and pastries, and of course⊠Youâre welcomed here.â
Harry smiles slowly at you before he steps closer. âMay I⊠May I hug you?â
You nod slowly, agreeing to it, and thatâs all Harry needs. He carefully wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder.
Not knowing what else to do, you hesitantly place your hands on his shoulders from beneath his arms, staring at the ceiling and feeling weird about hugging Harry after all this time.
You close your eyes slowly and think about all the times youâve hugged your friends, the spider gang, before you think of someone else. Unbeknownst to Harry, you think about hugging that someone else: the man in your photos Harry kept staring at, Miguel.
You frown slightly. You got a hug from Harry Osborn, someone who hasnât been in your life for years, before you got a hug from Miguel, your best friend.
At last, to your relief, Harry pulls back and so do you. You offer him a smile. âGo. Work calls.â
Reaching the door again and opening it, Harry gives you another smile. âYeah, I must get going. Thank you again for everything. Be careful alright?â he says, already halfway out, his gaze sweeping over the place once more, thinking about the new look of your apartment and the fact that Miguel helped you â that that man has been here in your home and helped you redecorate it.
âWill do,â you reply as he begins to close the door. âYou, too.â
âI will,â Harry says, waving goodbye and beginning to close the door, but stopping at the last second. You stare at each other for a few seconds. âIâll see you soon, Y/N?â
You nod your head, confirming. âYes, soon.â
âIâm relieved, thank you. Take care.â
âYou, too,â you answer, waving goodbye.
With that, Harry finally closes the door. After a few seconds, you lock it and sigh, leaning on it. That was a bit awkward.
You finally push yourself off the door and clean up the kitchen before you hang the other photographs back on the wall. Over half an hour later, you change into your suit and slip out of your apartment for a quick patrol of your city, trying to clear your mind after meeting with Harry.
You swing around the city for almost an hour, stopping a bank robbery and a petty criminal from stealing someoneâs purse in that time span. You eventually travel to Nueva York, where Miguel waits for you at the penthouse.
âHiiii,â you say, offering a smile to Miguel as soon as you step out into the living room. You find him carefully laying out some of the decorations for his ofrenda [Day of the Dead altar] on the coffee table, preparing.
Hearing your voice first before he sees you, Miguel smiles and turns to face you. âHey, how did it go?â
You sigh and sit down on the couch. âIt went.â
Chuckling, Miguel sits down across from you as well, deciding to take a break to give you his full attention. âWas it that bad?â
âWhen he first arrived, he was going for a hug and I offered him a handshake,â you confess, feeling a rush of embarrassment at that. You press your hands to your forehead and sigh. âSo embarrassing. And awkward.â
Miguel offers you a small smile of understanding, though his interest perks up when he hears Osborn went straight for a hug. He clears his throat. âThat sounds uncomfortable. How did you handle it?â he asks, curious to know if you eventually hugged Osborn.
âWe apologized to each other, and then, he gave me some flowers he brought,â you state, leaning back on the couch.
Flowers? Miguel watches you lean back, noticing the little get together got to you a bit. He hums, thinking about the interaction.
âWe talked for a bit about his business trip over coffee and pastries. He eventually looked around the living room and saw my gallery wall. He asked about you,â you continue to share.
âHe did?â Miguel asks, intrigued by that.
âYes. He remembered that Mayday mentioned a âMigâ that day we ran into him at the flower stand. He looked at one of the photos of you and I with Mayday, one from New Yearâs Eve. He asked if you were âMigâ and I confirmed it. I told him your name â just your first one â and that youâre my best friend.â
Hearing you say that, and the way you say it so proudly, brings a gentle blush to Miguelâs cheeks. He smiles fondly at you, elated with the fact that you told Osborn about him. Miguel silently wonders what Osborn thought about him and the rest of your friends, however.
âAfter that, he said he was glad that I have a support system,â you continue, telling him about the remainder of the get together, including the hug at the end.
The revelation that Osborn got a hug from you after all, leaves a slight pout on Miguelâs lips and a strange feeling he doesnât have enough time to identify. All Miguel knows is that Osborn seems to have received what he wanted from the start.
âIt was a bit awkward, but I suppose it will be like that for a bit, considering weâre basically strangers at this point. Itâll take some time before that feeling goes away. Anyway, Iâm glad we had that little get together, no matter how uneasy it felt, and even gladder that Iâm here again. Iâm so excited to cook and bake, and help you set up your ofrenda,â you eagerly say, standing up.
âIâm excited, too. I started on a few things already to ease the workload. Iâve set up the other pots and pans weâll be using, the dry ingredients, and the supplies for the ofrenda. I figured it would help since gathering the things takes a bit of time, too. I also finished the filling for the tamales [Latin dish].â
âGathering everything is a process of its own,â you agree. âCollecting everything, or as much as you can, beforehand, helps so much. You avoid the running back and forth when youâre actually doing the task, and prevents you from entirely skipping a step because youâre all over the place. Itâll make the process run much smoother being organized, especially since weâre doing a lot of cooking! Do you want to start now?â you ask with so much excitement itâs clear to Miguel youâve been looking forward to this.
âIf you want to, yes,â Miguel answers, standing up as well. âBut first, I think you might want to change into more comfortable clothing since weâre doing a lot.â
You look down at yourself, remembering youâre wearing your suit. âYouâre right. Iâll be right back!â you tell Miguel, already halfway to the stairs.
After changing into far more comfortable clothes â clothes youâve left in your bedroom, at Miguelâs penthouse â and turning on his record player, Miguel and you begin to work on the food for the ofrenda.
Hominy for the pozole [Latin dish] is placed in a pot to boil along with the necessary vegetables needed for the sauce and flavor.
With that done, Miguel makes the masa [dough] for tamales, so you can begin making them.
As always, you work together with ease. You move around the kitchen in sync, making steady progress while Latin romantic ballads play in the background.
You also open the packages of candy and set them on a tray to later offer to each of Miguel's family members.
Little by little, progress is being made. You reach a point in the cooking that allows you to take a break and have lunch before you both set up the ofrenda, using tables and shelves to give it two levels.
White tablecloths are used as the base before gorgeous and vibrant banners made out of papel picado [pecked paper] with intricate designs cut into it are hanged at the edge of each level. Colorful and handmade sugar skulls are placed throughout both levels along with white candles to be lit later on.
To finish, both Miguel and you add marigold flowers to the ofrenda. They're fresh and so lively, their scent filling Miguel's living room, where he decided to set his ofrenda this year.
While placing a flower down, you find it hard to believe that youâre here now. Three years ago, Miguel showed up to your apartment out of nowhere. Smiling, you recall that evening.
You were doing chores, specifically putting items away where they belonged and laundry. All of a sudden, you sensed a portal and when you stepped out into the living room, there he was, Miguel. He looked around your apartment, probably noticing the autumn decorations before you asked him if everything was okay. You were surprised by his random appearance and even more so because he looked calm, so your guess was that nothing was amiss. Still, you had to ask just in case you needed to change into your suit.
âAre you busy right now?â Miguel asked after he assured you everything was fine.
âI was just doing some chores, so, noâŠâ you replied, unsure of why Miguel was there so late. He was calm and said nothing was wrong, so that meant there was no threat to the multiverse. At least, that was your impression.
After nodding and sighing to himself, he told you his reasoning for being there. âI would like â to show you something,â he said, meeting your gaze.
In the span of minutes, if even that, you were in the lab and looking at Miguelâs ofrenda for his family.
That was what he wanted to show you, his offering and way of honoring and celebrating those who were once in his life, but now gone. By doing so, Miguel also wanted to assure you that your own way of honoring and celebrating Peter was okay â that you werenât alone. It was a way of reciprocating the vulnerability you had allowed Miguel to see on Peterâs birthday. And since you had made him part of your celebration, Miguel wanted to do the same for you, something that brought you so much tenderness at the time and continues to do so to this day.
Now, three years later, youâre at his penthouse helping Miguel set up his ofrenda again, just like last year. The difference now is that youâre here instead of at the lab because Miguel decided to set it up at home since he spends more time here than he did in the past. You hum softly and place the last flower before turning to look at Miguel just as he adjusts Gabriel's photo.
You smile at the sight. Gabriel, Gabriel OâHara. How you wish you couldâve met him and Gabby, the same way Miguel wishes you couldâve.
Heck, Miguel even wishes you couldâve met Conchata. Perhaps she wouldâve liked you. Perhaps she wouldâve done better as a mother and grandmother to Gabby if all three of them were still alive. Perhaps.
You look at each photo before meeting Miguelâs gaze, both your mouths curving upwards into a smile.
âI was thinking,â Miguel says, still smiling, but with a hint of shyness and hesitation. Perhaps itâs too much what heâs about to say, what heâs about to offer. He scratches his neck nervously, his cheeks red. âI hope you donât take this the wrong way, or offensive. Or⊠find it weird, or to be too much,â he continues, rambling without realizing it. âI was wondering if youâd like to â like to add your loved onesâ photos, too?â Miguel manages to ask at last, staring at you sheepishly. He has been thinking about it for days, about asking you, but he kept going back and forth on the idea, and now itâs DĂa de Los Muertos and youâre both here. Maybe itâs a stupid idea, or too much since itâs about your deceased loved ones. Miguel almost begins to apologize for the bad idea, but then he notices the look of surprise and then tenderness on your face.
You slowly smile at him, a sweet smile. âYouâre serious?â
âYes⊠Yes, I am,â Miguel gently replies.
âBut this is for family,â you state softly, wondering if Miguel has truly thought this through.
Miguel nods and thatâs how you realize that he knows, that youâre making his point. Itâs for family. Heâs offering your loved ones a place on his ofrenda because youâre⊠Family.
Youâre part of Miguelâs family.
âOhâŠâ you simply answer, a small knot forming in your throat before you push it down by swallowing. You smile. âAre you sure? I meanâŠâ you look at the ofrenda, thinking. âItâs your ofrenda and I donât have any food for them anyway, and I donât want to crowd ââ
âThereâs plenty of space,â Miguel says gently. âAs to the food, I can help you cook just like youâve helped me. Thereâs plenty of time for it.â Noticing your smile, Miguel smiles, too. âJust say the word,â Miguel continues. âAnd we'll start immediately.â
Thatâs how, a bit later, the ofrenda is no longer only Miguelâs. Itâs his and yours.
Instead of only four portraits, thereâs seven. Thereâs one of both your parents, one of Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Peter, Conchata, Gabby, Gabriel, and Miguelâs wife. Like Miguel, youâll be offering favorite foods and snacks later on when he does, too. Additionally, you went ahead and added belongings to your loved ones that were significant to them in life. For Peter, youâve obviously offered his record player and favorite albums.
When you place the last one, a Billie Holiday album, you step back to look at everything. Thereâs even more sugar skulls, candles, and banners than before. And, the scent of marigolds? It has grown tenfold because more were acquired by Miguel, who went out on a quick trip to buy more.
You smile, feeling thankful for the kind and sweet gesture and privilege to share and partake in such a beautiful tradition with Miguel.
âThere,â Miguel gently says with his own smile, staring at the ofrenda with everyone now. He hums and readjusts a flower in front of your parentsâ photo before stepping back, standing next to you. âWe can place the food in a bit,â Miguel offers before something catches his attention through the windows.
A few seconds later, you both walk to the windows to look closer. Vibrant holographic sugar skulls decorate the sky above Nueva Yorkâs downtown, announcing that the celebrations have started.
At the sight, Miguel smiles softly. Itâs been several years since heâs gone to any of those events. Too many years. He slowly turns to face you, noting the smile and intrigue in your eyes. He doesnât even think about it twice before he makes another offer. âDo you want to go?â he asks. âThereâs always live performances, amazing food, small businesses, and great music.â
âReally?â you ask softly, looking at him. âDo you want to go?â
With you? Anywhere. Miguel grins and nods, not sharing that thought. âIâm up for it, if you are.â
You chuckle with a spark in your eyes. âIâd love to!â
-âĄ-
When you reach Nueva Yorkâs beautiful downtown, the sight of sugar skulls and marigolds greet your and Miguelâs eyes. Lively music reaches your ears and the wonderful, mouthwatering scent of food sold from food trucks reaches your noses.
As you both walk side by side, you notice children eagerly pointing to the holographic sugar skulls in the sky, trying to get their adultsâ attention. Countless of people walk around with their faces painted in the traditional sugar skull makeup with intricate patterns. You also notice that many girls and women walk around with beautiful and bright hair accessories, many of which include big flowers.
Pulling your jacket closer to you due to the chilly weather, you smile in delight because of the spirit. Thereâs always an energy to Nueva York, but tonight, you can sense a different kind â one that seems to be almost pulsing. You silently wonder if that energy comes from those who have departed this physical world, but are visiting their loved ones still on Earth once more.
Your thoughts are interrupted when a lady from a small booth beckons Miguel and you with a bright smile. You glance at Miguel before looking back at the lady, quickly realizing the service sheâs providing: painting peopleâs faces for the celebrations.
âWould you guys like to have your faces painted? I have a special price for couples!â the woman offers, still smiling.
You look away with a small smile. There it is again.
Only three weeks ago on Miguelâs birthday, back in your universe, Mr. Stanley assumed Miguel is your boyfriend. Now, thereâs this lady also making the assumption. Thankfully, Miguel didnât seem to mind. He said it was an innocent assumption, which calmed your worries about him being offended that day.
Next to you, Miguel scratches his neck after hearing the womanâs words. Once again, someone has assumed youâre dating. Despite how many times heâs been told that personally, Miguel still finds it surprising. Do the two of you give that impression? He wonders, considering that this lady has to be the fifth or sixth person to make that innocent assumption. He then wonders how many more people make that silent presumption just from seeing the two of you walking around. Before he has a chance to think further, like what does it mean that youâre being mistaken as a couple, you smile and walk to the booth to look at the different design options. And, of course, Miguel follows you.
âYou can do matching, or different designs if you wish,â the lady offers. âI can do different eye colors, too. And, just letting you know, my friend in the next booth is selling hair pieces if youâd like to complete the look, señorita [miss].â
âThat sounds lovely! Thank you for letting me know,â you answer politely before looking at the ladyâs work again.
âDo you want to get it done?â Miguel asks after he thanks her, too.
âIâŠâ you trail off and look at him, wondering if itâs okay.
âIf you want to, you should. Itâs fun,â Miguel gently says with a small smile. âWe have time, too.â
âAlright!â you happily answer before the lady leads you to a chair and begins to ask you what design youâd like.
Meanwhile, Miguel watches from the side, intrigued by the process. He leans on a street lamp, slipping both his hands into his pockets as he quietly listens to you and the lady make small talk while she paints your face. Unbeknownst to him, Miguel looks like a devoted boyfriend and/or husband, waiting on his partner.
To Miguelâs surprise, it doesnât take long for the lady to finish the makeup, but then again, he realizes that the lady must have a lot of experience and your face is probably one of hundreds sheâs painted today alone.
You stand up and look at yourself through a handheld mirror that the lady offers you, admiring and thanking her for the wonderful service before you return the mirror. You then reach into your pocket for money â cash youâve converted to this dimensionâs â to pay the lady, but before you even get a chance to pull it out, Miguel has already handed the woman a bill.
âMiguel ââ you start, but Miguel politely shakes his head at you just as the lady, who silently finds the interaction cute, takes the money.
âItâs on me. Keep the change, doña [short for señora/madam],â Miguel says.
âYouâre paying for two people, mijo [term of endearment; my son],â the lady says. âLet me give you your change.â
âNo, thatâs alright, really,â Miguel insists.
âAt least, let me paint your face, mijo. Youâre not only paying for your girlfriendâs, but for one more person. You might as well.â
âI donâtâŠâ Miguel starts, but trails off. Heâs unsure of how to explain to the kind lady that heâs not open to someone touching his face plus feeling sheepish because sheâs called you his âgirlfriendâ.
âYour girlfriend can do it, if you want,â the lady offers, picking up on Miguelâs reluctance.
Standing there, your cheeks feel hot. Not once, but twice has this lady said youâre Miguelâs girlfriend. Pushing past that, you glance at Miguel. âI can if you want, Migs,â you offer.
Miguel looks around for a few seconds before nodding. âIf thatâs okay⊠Alright.â
Once Miguel agrees, the lady quickly sets things for you on the other side of the table, so she can continue to work if other customers arrive. In a minute or two, youâre sitting in front of Miguel with a makeup brush in your hand. You begin by painting his entire face with white paint, just like yours. While you do so, Miguel stares at the tentâs ceiling, not failing to notice how close the two of you are sitting. Youâre so close to each other that your knees are slightly pressed against each otherâs.
After a few seconds, Miguel finally looks at you. His gaze travels over your face, taking the opportunity to look at the painted details now that youâre closer. His eyes stop at your own, noting that you chose a light purple color for eye shadow.
âYou chose purple,â Miguel states as you paint one of his cheeks, almost done with the white paint.
âMhm,â you simply answer, eyebrows furrowed. You look away to gather more paint before resuming. âI chose it because of Gabby, since she loved the color lilac.â
Miguelâs lips part in surprise. He hadnât made that connection, but now that he knows, his chest flutters with ternura [tenderness]. You chose it for Gabby, his daughter. He smiles, even as you work the brush against his cheek again. âThatâs so sweet of you,â Miguel says very softly so the lady doesnât hear.
You smile back, your cheeks warm. âI just thought it would be⊠Nice. In her honor.â
âItâs more than nice. Itâs sweet, Dulzura,â Miguel answers. âItâs a sweet gesture and I like to think that wherever Gabby is⊠Perhaps here⊠Sheâs appreciating it.â
âIâm sure sheâs here,â you answer, reassuring Miguel. âWith you.â
Smiling, Miguel nods. âWith us.â
âWith usâŠâ you repeat softly, your chest filling with happiness at the fact that Miguel said âwith usâ.
Once done with the white paint, you switch to black paint and begin to draw the lines on Miguelâs face. You do the cheekbones and teeth first, finding it the easiest to do. Then, you do his nose by drawing an upside down heart at the tip, finding it cute. You draw circles around his eyes next, tracing Miguelâs orbital cavities, before filling them in and adding a decorative outline.
When you reach his forehead, you think about it. You had flowers drawn on yours, but you donât want to do that for Miguel. You wish to do something different, something more fitting for him, but what? You hum softly before you begin to draw.
You carefully draw a sun in the middle of Miguelâs forehead, with little rays coming from it to indicate that itâs shining. When youâre done with that, you add a few more details above Miguelâs eyebrows. With a smile, you pull back when youâre fully done and grab the handheld mirror so Miguel can see the final result.
âYou drew a sun,â Miguel murmurs with a smile when he sees it.
âYep,â you say proudly. âSolecito [little sun].â
Miguelâs eyes move from the mirror to you, finding a grin on your face.
âWhat?â you say. âSome time ago, you jokingly said you were everyoneâs solecito. âA ball of sunshineâ, if I recall correctly.â
âIt was sarcasm,â Miguel says, chuckling. âIâm not.â
You sigh and put away the makeup brushes. âFor them, maybe.â
âWh-what?â Miguel stutters, caught by surprise.
With a smile, you close the paints. âIâm saying youâre a ball of sunshine. To me.â You look up, closing the last paint. âSolecito.â
âSolecito,â Miguel repeats, his cheeks growing hot. âLittle sun.â
âMi solecito [my little sun],â you say this time, nodding with a warm smile, leaving Miguel speechless when you add the âmiâ. Your little sun. Youâre saying heâs your little sun. You stand up and grab the materials before walking to the lady to return them. âHereâs everything, maâam. Thank you so much!â
Meanwhile, Miguelâs brain is having a moment. Heâs never been given such a nickname by anyone. Ever. And now heâs your little sun â your ball of sunshine. Miguelâs cheeks grow hotter the longer he sits there, your sweet nickname echoing in his mind, leaving him flustered.
Your solecito.
âAre you ready for the live performances?â you ask, standing in front of him, so eager to go while Miguelâs brain is short circuiting.
âSi [yes],â Miguel replies, clearing his throat. âYes. Iâm ready.â
Miguel forces himself to stand up, trying to push past his pleasant surprise from your new nickname for him. You both thank the lady and wish her well with her business before walking away, happy with the service.
Walking again, Miguel continues to push past his feelings when he spots the small business the lady who painted your faces mentioned earlier. His gaze quickly sweeps over the beautiful hair accessories, which reminds him of the ladyâs words, about how you can complete your look with something like that. He stops walking, something you quickly notice.
âMiguel?â you ask, wondering whatâs up.
âThereâs hair accessories,â Miguel states, staring at one of the tables with organized accessories. He flashes you a grin and gestures for you to follow him before he walks to the booth, leaving you wondering.
You slowly reach his side, finding him already talking with the owner.
âWe have several options. Are you looking for a specific color?â the woman asks.
âHmm, Dulzura,â Miguel turns to face you. âDo you want it to match your makeup?â
You smile, realizing. âI suppose it would be appropriate,â you answer.
âSomething purple, please,â Miguel politely says before the lady shows the two of you all the options she has.
The lady shows you headbands, bows, and other cute dainty hair accessories â all with the color purple in different shades. You watch with careful attention as she shows you thing after thing, all so beautiful youâre undecided on which one to buy until you turn to Miguel, who lifts a headband from another table to inspect it. Gazing at it more closely, you realize the headband has handmade flowers out of lilac and white ribbons. It also has some hints of pink due to smaller decorations glued to the ribbons for a little dazzle.
âThat one, please,â you say with a smile.
âThis one?â Miguel asks with a smile, moving it forward so you can get a better look at it.
âThat one,â you confirm, finding it beautiful.
âWeâll take this one, then,â Miguel says, looking at the price tag. Before you even have a chance to pull out your money, Miguel, once again, pulls out his wallet and pays.
âMiguel,â you say softly.
âWhat is it?â Miguel asks, already knowing by the little pout on your lips.
âYou canât keep paying for everything, you know.â
Miguel grins. âItâs my treat, so please let me,â he answers with amusement before he steps closer to you. To your immense surprise, Miguel steps even closer while holding the headband in both hands. He moves them closer to your head carefully and slowly, as if to avoid startling you. And then, to add to your growing surprise, Miguel gently slips the headband on your head.
Youâre so caught off guard by Miguelâs brave gesture that youâre not sure if you misheard yourself gasping, but youâre aware of your widened eyes and parted lips.
Happy with the way the headband looks and how it adorns your hair, Miguel steps back with a soft smile. A gentle blush covers not only his cheeks, but also the top of his ears. For a few seconds, Miguel seems to avoid your wide gaze out of shyness. At last, he meets your eyes, still finding surprise on your face. âDoes it feel okay?â Miguel asks, slowly and almost reluctantly taking another step back to give you space.
âYe-yes,â you answer softly, speechless. You clear your throat and smile, trying to shake off the surprise, or at least not make it so obvious that you're shocked. âYes. It's fine. Perfect, actually,â you continue with a smile.
âGood,â Miguel says with a small grin. âNow your look is complete, Dulzura.â
âYour change, sir,â the business owner says, dropping the money on his hand.
While Miguel thanks the lady, your eyes land on a beautiful bow. It's lilac with little white pearls lining the two tails. You gently pick it up, imagining that little girl with the toothy smile who loved science and fĂștbol so much wearing it.
In seconds, you imagine what it'd be like if she was here. You can picture Miguel carrying her on his shoulders, both their faces painted for the celebrations. If she was walking, you can imagine her holding his hand as they walk, tugging him to the small businesses to see everything. You even imagine her pulling him to this booth and picking this very bow because it matches her dress.
Smiling, you check the tag before pulling money out. âI'd like to buy this one, please,â you tell the lady once Miguel finishes talking with her.
Miguel turns to look at you, surprised. âYou should've told me you liked that one, too. I can pay ââ Miguel starts but you hand the money to the lady before he can finish.
âItâs for Gabby and I wish to pay for it,â you gently reply to Miguel.
âWould you like to get this packaged?â the lady offers.
âPlease. That way it doesn't get damaged on the way home,â you answer.
âOf course. Are you guys going home to your child? A little girl, maybe?â the woman asks the two of you with a smile, making another innocent assumption that you both have a daughter.
âIâŠâ you trail off before you start to shake your head.
âMy daughter â she â she's no longer with us,â Miguel explains gently, though not explaining that Gabby is just his daughter.
The lady's face softens when she hears that. âOh, I'm so sorry for your loss,â she replies full of sincerity. She closes the small box and hands it to you, your money on top. âIt's on the house, for your little girl.â
Both Miguel and you decline politely at the same time, but the lady gently pushes the box into your hands.
âPlease. As a gift,â she insists, still pushing the box into your hands.
You accept it hesitantly, only to not come off as rude. You pick up the money bill and offer it again. âPlease-â
âNo, no. Please take it. For your daughter,â the lady continues, stepping back. âI want you to. Accept it as a DĂa de Los Muertos gift. I hope your little one enjoys it.â
You sigh softly and lower your hand. âThank you so much,â you reply, holding the box carefully.
âGracias, doña. You didnât have to, but thank you,â Miguel says after you, sincerely thanking the lady.
âOf course, jovenes [young people; youths]. Please take care and enjoy the celebrations. Have a great night,â the woman says, wishing you well before another customer approaches the booth.
Miguel and you walk away and continue on your way to watch some of the live performances, holding the box closer to you to make sure the bow doesnât get damaged somehow.
âThat was so nice of her,â you say softly as you both reach the center of the downtown, where thereâs already a lot of people waiting.
âIt was,â Miguel answers, agreeing. âIt was a kind gesture. Hers and yours,â Miguel continues. âI appreciate you trying to buy it for Gabby. Iâm certain she wouldâve loved it.â Miguel smiles at that, knowing itâs true.
You grin. âI was thinking about her wearing it with a matching dress.â
Miguelâs smile softens, imagining his daughter eager to wear her bow with a matching dress. It brings a warmth to his chest. âThank you, Dulzura. She wouldâve definitely worn it like that. I⊠I imagine she wouldâve wanted me to do her hair in a ponytail to wear it, too.â
You both grow quiet, thinking about that vision until the live performances begin. With interest and enthusiasm, Miguel and you watch lovely performances by amazing artists, including a mariachi band, who sing some of the most iconic songs to Mexico and talented ballet folk dancers donning beautiful and authentic attires among other great presentations that keep the spirit for the celebrations high.
Towards the end, Miguel and you eventually decide to go home, but not before you run into an elderly couple who you both overhear quietly talking about not having enough money to buy food from one of the food trucks.
âTenemos comida en la casa, mi amor [we have food at home, my love],â the elderly man said. âMaybe in a few weeks we can buy the ingredients and make this meal ourselves. We can save for it.â
âYouâre right, Balby. We should go home now,â his wife answered.
Hearing that, neither Miguel nor you could simply walk away. So, you bought the couple dinner and even gave them extra money for food. Youâre not sure how much it was in total, but Miguel gave them plenty and you gave them what you converted a few days ago. Knowing theyâll be enjoying a great dinner, Miguel and you wish them a good night before you walk away, wanting to go home to complete the ofrenda and have dinner.
While you both walk away, side by side as always, the elderly couple watch you from their seats.
âSo you were right, mi amor,â the man says with a grin.
âI always am, Balby,â the woman answers with satisfaction. âThose two have pure and courageous hearts. And theyâre meant to be together.â
âI cannot deny it,â the man says. âEven I can see that. However will we pay them for their kindness tonight?â
âIâll see what I can do,â the woman says, watching the two figures fade into the crowd.
âHow about a wager, mi amor?â
âNo wagers tonight!â the woman replies before they both disappear, invisible to everyone else, to pass on the kindness Miguel and you gave to them.
[Characters from The Book of Life film; La Muerte and Xibalba (Balby)]
It takes less than half an hour before you reach the penthouse, and upon arrival, Miguel and you change into lounging clothes before heading to the kitchen to reheat the food. In the meantime, Miguel also makes pancakes with chocolate chips for Gabby, wanting those to be freshly made.
Once everything is ready, the food is offered.
Plates with tamales and pink conchas are placed. Bowls with delicious pozole, too. A fresh batch of chocolate chip pancakes is set in front of Gabbyâs photograph. Apples and oranges are placed for Conchata and strawberries for Gabby. The various kinds of candy you placed on a tray earlier are distributed between Gabby and Gabriel, which include Paletas Payaso, Canelâs gum, and Pulparindos. And of course, Miguel didnât forget his loved onesâ favorite drinks like the Jarritos and Chocomilk for Gabby.
Your parents, uncle Ben and Aunt May, and Peter had their favorite foods and drinks served, too.
To complete the ofrenda, Miguel places other offerings for his loved ones. He begins by putting a few things for his mom and his wife. When heâs done with their portions of the ofrenda, he moves to Gabrielâs part. Miguel smiles at his brotherâs photo before he gently pulls out Gabrielâs green scarf from his pocket, placing it on the lower level in front of the photograph, offering it.
At last, thereâs the youngest OâHara, Gabby. Like previous years, Miguel places dolls for her, from a scientist to a soccer player and a few other toys. He offers a few new books because she loved to read, books he bought a few days ago with you at his side. From the bag in which he stored everything, he also pulls out a soccer ball. It was a must, of course. And finally, Miguel places her guitar, too, hoping that wherever Gabby is, she can enjoy her beloved guitar.
âI almost forgot,â you say softly, walking closer with the packaged bow. You offer it to Miguel, so he can place it, but Miguel shakes his head.
âYou place it,â he replies. âI know you were going to buy it for her, so you should do it. Itâs alright if you do so.â
âAre you sure?â you ask, not wanting to push boundaries.
âIâm sure, truly,â Miguel reassures you with a small smile, one you return.
With a nod, you open the box and pull the bow out, admiring it for a few seconds and thinking once more about a different timeline in which Gabriella was here, physically. You place it between the two dolls, silently hoping that Gabby likes it. You step back to look at the fully finished ofrenda. It took some time and love, but itâs completed at last and itâs so beautiful.
Both Miguel and you stand in silence, admiring it. The silence is a comfortable one, not out of grief despite the several photos in display of loved ones physically gone. Itâs a silence of comfort and hope that those who have left too soon and unexpectedly come home, even if just for a few hours to share a meal with their living loved ones once more.
Miguelâs eyes trace every single photo in silence. He feels at peace, something he didnât feel three years ago. There was too much pain, too much heartbreak. And, too much loneliness, even if he didnât fully admit it to himself back then. Yet, three years later, Miguel stands in his penthouse â same one that felt so incredibly void and cold before, but now feels like home.
Home.
Miguel turns to face you. Things are different now. Thereâs less pain, less heartbreak. Heâs learned better ways to manage his feelings, too, thatâs for sure. Even better, thereâs no more loneliness. With a soft sigh, Miguel finally breaks the silence. âDinner?â he simply says, watching the way you turn to look at him with your face still painted, much like his.
âThat sounds good. Iâm actually starving,â you confess with a grin.
âItâs all that walking,â Miguel answers before he gestures for the two of you to return to the kitchen for food.
Due to the celebrations, Miguel and you go back to the living room with plates containing food to have dinner with your loved ones. You enjoy the food over conversation regarding the wonderful performances.
Not surprisingly, Lyla shows up halfway through dinner to play music for the two of you. She also takes the opportunity to sneakily take pictures for her secret, or not so secret, folder of digital content before disappearing again.
You hum and offer him a smile, holding your mug in both hands. âNo, thank you⊠Solecito,â you reply, using that nickname again. âFor allowing me to be part of it again and for inviting my family into your ofrenda. It means so much to me,â you continue. âSo, thank you.â
âSiempre,â Miguel whispers, his heart skipping a beat when he hears the new sweet nickname youâve given him. âAlways⊠But, seriously⊠Thank you for being here with me again. For accepting my offer.â Miguelâs eyes meet yours, his gaze tender. He knows that his invitation for your family to join the family ofrenda might have been too much â too personal â even for best friends, but still, Miguel couldnât help himself from making it. He turns to look at the ofrenda again, noting how big it turned out with your family being part of it. After a few seconds, Miguel turns to face you again. âThank you.â
You smile sweetly and nod, knowing what Miguel means. Having your family join the ofrenda was certainly a personal gesture, a much more intimate one than previous ones simply because itâs about family, and itâs a gesture you appreciate so much. âAlways,â you whisper back.
Feeling the same, Miguelâs crimson eyes flutter, but he fights the sleep. Or, tries to, anyway. He glances at you, remembering your meeting with Osborn earlier today. He thinks about the hug you two shared, pondering for a bit before he finally speaks. âDulzura?â he whispers, not sure if youâre asleep already.
âHmm?â you sleepily respond, your eyes fluttering just to look at him.
Miguelâs lips quirk up at the sight. You look so cute when youâre sleepy. âI was just thinking about how you said your meeting with Harry was awkward at first because he went straight for the hug,â he says slowly.
âMhm, it was,â you confirm.
âDid the hug feel awkward, too?â Miguel asks, seeing youâre more asleep than awake now.
You yawn softly, covering your mouth, and nod. âIt was. It felt weird,â you respond too softly.
Miguel hums as a response, thinking. He feels something in his chest again, something he didnât register earlier. Envy, perhaps? Envy that Harry Osborn who has only been in your life for a few months now, if even that, has embraced you before he has, even if it was awkward.
He sighs and rubs his eyes. He doesnât know why heâs even feeling like that. Itâs silly.
Right?
On top of that, Miguel also feels a bit of shame and disappointment in himself. âIâm sorry,â Miguel sleepily murmurs to you.
âWhat â For what?â you ask, Miguelâs words waking you up a bit.
âFor⊠I still havenât â You know. I havenât embraced you yet,â Miguel replies quietly, disappointment and shame laced in his tone.
âMiguel,â you start gently. âYou donât have to apologize. Not for that, you know that. This isnât a race. Itâs a healing journey, and everyone needs their own pace to heal from their grief and trauma. Youâre going at your pace and therefore, honoring your boundaries and yourself, which is so important. Thatâs all that matters to me.â You offer him a reassuring smile before continuing. âThatâs not to say, I donât wish to⊠One day have the opportunity to experience that â a hug from you, but everything at its due time, okay?â you murmur softly, as if there were other people in the room.
Miguel nods, reassured by your words and gentle reminder. âThank you, Dulzura. I appreciate itâŠâ he answers, feeling better. Youâre always so understanding of him and his boundaries. After a few seconds, he continues. âOne of these days,â Miguel tells you softly, sounding like a promise he fully intends on fulfilling.
âOne of these days,â you repeat gently, looking forward to the day.
You both think about it â about the day in which Miguel will be open to that kind of physical touch. You think about what itâd feel like, to hold each other close. To learn what it's like to be in each other's arms.
When that day comes, Miguel knows he will hug you close and remember what it feels like to hug someone after so many years of going without a single embrace.
With that in mind, you both admire the ofrenda again. It somehow looks even more beautiful now in the dark living room with the candlesâ dancing flames. It almost feels like they're waving at the two of you.
Still looking at the ofrenda, Miguel wonders if thereâs a chance that both your relatives are here tonight. If they made it. He hopes they did and that they enjoyed the food and belongings that were offered to them.
As the minutes tick by, that wave of sleep rolls over you again and instead of fighting it, Miguel and you surrender to it this time. Thereâs a warmth that reaches and embraces you both. Itâs so familiar neither of you can help yourselves from leaning into it like a child leans into their parentsâ warmth for safety and comfort.
The last thing you both hear is static coming from the speakers from which music was just now playing. A soft, sad guitar begins to play, but youâre both asleep already â lulled by a warm, gentle, and familiar energy not visible to the human eye, but always around.
A/N: Hiiiiiiii!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter đ„ș Ever since last year, I wanted to write a short chapter for DĂa de Muertos, but alas, I didn't get the chance to, so I couldn't miss it this year!
Guys... I was giggling and kicking my feet when MIGUEL PUT THE HEADBAND ON OUR HEADS RAHHHHHHHHHHH AND THEN THE FACT HE FELT A BIT JEALOUS OVER HARRY HUGGING US??? (forgive me for screaming but !!!) and then the fact he's thinking more about it -- about hugging us!! đ„č
Also, don't mind the direct reference to The Book of Life. I was working on this chapter Thursday and listening to the official soundtrack for it because it's genuinely one of my fav movies ever, which I plan on watching tonight, and then the idea popped in my head to include La Muerte and Xibalba somehow and well... I did it. đ
Also, what do we think about Harry? I was cringing while writing that part because they're so awkward!đđ But anyway, what do we think? đ€ Side note, I was fighting the urge to make Felix a hot old man, I'm ngl đ(I'm still imagining him to be hot, I'm sorry).
Ok, I think that's all and I must go now because my siblings are bothering me to help them with something. I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, show it some love! Take care everyone, and happy November! đ
Alondraâ€ïž
p.s. I haven't forgotten about chapter 20's comments and reblogs. I'm sorry for how long it's taken me to reply to them. I got behind because of the three chapters I dropped 3 weeks ago, but I promise I'll get to them this upcoming week!! Thank you so much for the amazing love and support as always!! I love you guys đđđ„č
Credits: Gif by @/halloween-pumpkin-queen. Purple dividers by @/thecutestgrotto and green divider by @/vysleix
art credit to a lovely moot here @gltzpzy your art gives me life đââïž
Wearing one of his undershirts, you stand idly at his door. You shake your head in disbelief, feeling childish at the idea of you being at his bedroom door at four in the morning. With a fist, you raise it to knock on the door but fail. You didn't want to interrupt his seven hours of sleep.
âThis is stupidâŠâ You think as you slowly back away from the door.
The floorboard under your feet creaked, creating a loud groan from your heavy weight against the sensitive wood. You scrunch your brows and close your eyes shut.
âÂżPrincesa?â His voice sends vibrations down your spine. âYeah?â You croak out, your tone cracking.
âAre you having trouble sleeping, princesa?â
ââŠno?â
The silence was enough to tell you that he raised a brow from skepticism, and you could feel it through that wooden door.
âOkay, maybe I am. I keep hearing the neighbors singing drunkardly. And I wondered if I could sleep in your room tonight.â Silence sags the cold air, but the sound of the bed creaking from the other side of the door is enough to sink a sense of guilt into you.
The door swings open, and the smell of his cologne lingers in the air before the sensation of his hand ruffling the crown of your head. âCâmon in,â he sighs before gently tugging you into the room.
The sight of his messy bed, mostly bedsheets, indicated that he was enjoying a good night's sleep before you interrupted.
âGet into bed. I warmed it up for youâŠâ he grumbles, a half-ass attempt at a joke. He combed his bed hair back before he took the left side of the bed, allowing you to take the right side.
The moment your body landed on his mattress, the softness and warmth enveloped you like a crispy burnt marshmallow on an autumn evening. âVen para acĂĄ, princesa.â He waves his hand over after he settles down on the bed.
The shock of waking up to 300 pounds against your chest is enough to scare anyone, especially if this 300 pounds embracing you close with no escape, especially with a loud snore filling your ears at eight in the goddamn morning.
OK! I did the thing <3 If you'd like to see the NSFW art that I cannot post here, you can join me on Patreon and toss a coin to your Witcher <3 patreon.com/MotherVonMayhem
Outloud, I started to mutter "Jonathan MacTavish, you little..."
... but clicked on the photo and zoomed in on his face, only to realize he has mutton chops or a beard, and now I am seriously unwell....
.... now, all I can think of is Price being absolutely sloshed at Johnny & Simon's wedding reception after serving as Best Man for Simon, and finally caving to the taunts from both Johnny and Gaz who doubt he actually does yoga for relaxation.
3 am art time! (Kinda) Seriously considering making a Patreon, so I can share more spicy art and stream for more people. Streams are usually about 2 hours and both mild and spicy. Enjoy these crops and WIPs from recent livestreams đ€ EDIT: I DID THE THING!! You can find me on Patreon and everywhere else as @mothervonmayhem
I hate that everything takes so long. I hate that the time will pass anyway
I hate that I didn't start early enough. I hate that there's always time to start. I hate that it's never too late.
I hate that I feel so strongly. I hate that it's not a bad thing.
I hate that i am dissatisfied with life. I hate believing that I deserve better.
I hate that I'm stuck. I hate that I have to fix it.
I hate that I can't settle. I hate that I keep dreaming.
I hate that I can't be ignorant to all the possibilities. I hate that I strive for much more than I can give myself.
I hate that I grab more than I can take. I hate that I think I can always make it.
I hate that I let everything break me down. I hate that I care so much.
I hate that I have to keep trying. I hate that I'm tired.
I hate that I'm full of anger. I hate that there's no one I can blame.
I hate that I have to care for myself. I hate that I have to be tender.
I hate that the person I want to be can't be built from pain and resentment. I hate that it'll take patience and love.
I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate.
And that's okay. I'm allowed.
Mother Von Mayhem @mothervonmayhem - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
