#Gabri do stuff

[gabrielokun]

this is literally the worst quality drop ever

from this:

to this in on step:

HOW?!  ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა💢 mi sad 

[angel-of-the-moons]

Doppelgänger

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™

A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.

Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.

You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.

You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:

Hey, Gabe...

Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.

No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂

Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬

Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?

No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.

You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.

But what you got instead made your heart sink.

He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.

Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.

You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...

But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.

Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--

Your phone pinged.

They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...

You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.

Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;

God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way

I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.

He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.

I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.

No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.

OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?

Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.

Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.

OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.

KK, see ya.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.

You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.

God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.

That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--

Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.

You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.

Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.

"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.

You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.

You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.

Before you could push a button, the door slid open.

Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.

That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.

Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.

"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"

"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.

You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.

Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.

He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.

"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.

When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.

With guilt.

Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.

You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"

"I'm sorry." He interrupts.

You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.

You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"

He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.

He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.

"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.

"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.

His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.

He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.

Because you knew he was hurting.

"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."

You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.

His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.

You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.

You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.

He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.

"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.

"Mig--"

"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.

"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.

You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."

"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.

"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"

You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.

Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.

You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.

You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.

"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.

You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.

"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."

"I--"

You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"

He didn't answer.

"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"

No answer.

"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."

You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.

"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.

"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."

He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.

"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.

He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.

"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."

You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.

"I know you will, Miggy."

"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"Well, the last one..."

"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.

You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.

"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."

He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.

"Mierda..."

You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.

"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."

His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.

Yeah. You were right.

He was Miguel O'Hara.

And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.

[tarjapearce]

soccer family wife meeting Miguel’s family for the first time?

👀 Miguel has a potty mouth.

(This is before meeting her family btw)

"So... when you're gonna introduce your girl?"

"A Pitufina?"

Gabriel didn't hold back the ugly snort at the nickname

"God, that's such a terrible pet name."

Gabriel poured the coffee for the both as Miguel prepared breakfast. A bit of Huevos rancheros and fried red beans to pair it with.

"She might come later, she's been busy."

"Right."

Gabriel put two of sugar to his mug as he handed Miguel his. The proceeded to heat up some day old tortillas.

"You're gonna tell mom about her?"

"No."

Miguel's voice monotone, but firm. Gabriel sighed and slanted over the counter, eyes on the tortillas as he crossed his arms in his chest.

"Look, I don't wanna be that guy, but... don't you think it's been years?"

"Yeah. Keep them coming."

"Just do it out of politeness. She'll find out one way or another And you know how mom gets."

He flipped the tortilla and Miguel served.

"I couldn't care less what she thinks. Pásame el chile. Besides that's precisely why I don't want them to meet." (Hand me the chili sauce)

"I just wanna know why you won't talk to her about this. Like... You've gotten a girlfriend!"

"Por Dios, you're so annoying at times. Get over it. Yeah, I'm dating. So?"

"I was worried, Miggy." Gabriel gave a dramatic sigh as he put the other tortilla to heat up, "Thought you'd end up as a true hermit living off caffeine and stress. "

"Cabrón"

"Tú el doble." (You're it double)

"En fín. Cállate y come." (Anyways, shut up and eat)

"I'm just happy for you. I... I know you don't believe me when I say stuff like this. But Im glad that... Pitufina or however bizarre pet name you wanna call her, is with you."

Gabriel sipped his coffee and sighed.

"You've been less of an asshole lately. You have fun even, so I'm glad. Happy you can finally get some peace with yourself and she seems a good woman too. So... Congrats. "

"Thanks." 

"What if she asks to met mom?

Miguel shook his head.

"Doubt it. Mom is troublesome. Nothing is fucking good enough for her. Just like Pitufina's mother."

"Kinda understand why you got together now"

Miguel snapped his head towards him with a glare.

"Ya no te cuento ni vergas." (I'm telling you shit.)

"Okay, okay, terrible joke. Sorry. Just... How bad is it?"

"Bad. Strangers practically. Won't expose her to meet mom and throw at her face her own troubles. Mi niña has had enough as it is."

Gabriel's eyes widened upon his older brother's words.

"I think I might get used to this sappy version of you."

"Make fun all you want but even I know there are limits when it comes to being a dick. So don't mention this to mom." Miguel's eyes fixed him with a staid face as he waved his index finger as a warning to him, "And I mean it, Gabri. Don't want her to also ruin this for me."

"I won't, relax. Is not like we're really close or something."

------

Your knuckles held the wheel tighter as you approached Miguel's apartment. He wanted to introduce you to his family.

So you put yourself in an outfit appropriate for the occasion. A little blazer with a tank top underneath, some jeans and matching low platform espadrilles.

Miguel rarely to never mentioned his family to you, and the sparse times he did, only mentioned his brother.

You had seen Gabriel a couple of times but never interacted with him beyond a couple of words or pleasantries if the situation demanded for it.

You parked and let Miguel know that you were outside. He lived in the second floor of an apartment complex.

He came out after a couple of minutes dressed in his stay at home clothes. A stark contrast on your outfit. You bear hugged him and he kissed your temple.

"Uh... why are you wearing that?"

"What?

You gestured

"I feel so overdressed now"

"You're fine. You're meeting Gabriel."

His arm wrapped around your waist as you made your way towards his apartment.

"Just him?"

"You sound disappointed"

Shaking your head with a smile as you climbed up the stairs. He chuckled.

"I'm not. I was nervous at the thought of meeting your parents but... knowing it's only Gabriel is less nerve wrecking."

He sighed and stopped you as his apartment came in view.

"Long story short, I don't get along either with my mom and the sperm donnor is out of the picture. Gabriel is the only constant one in my life. "

You kissed his cheek and held his hand tightly as you held a little gift on the other one.

"Thanks for telling me. I was thinking in escaping while you distracted them. But glad it won't be necessary. "

He chuckled at your attempt of lightening the mood. His keys tinkered as they turned and opened the door.

"Gabriel?"

The younger O'Hara looked up from his seat in the living room with a smile, turning the tv off

"Hey" He stood and approached you both. You gave him the little bottle of a collectible mezcal bottles.

"Miguel told me you liked this brand."

"You didn't have to, but highly appreciated." The nickname kind of made sense for Gabriel now that he saw you next to Miguel.

You introduced himself as you shook Gabriel's hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, thanks for tolerating my brother enough to date him."

You snorted as Miguel glared holes his way.

"He's not bad. Except when he runs out of coffee"

One of your arms wrapped around Miguel's waist as he held and entwined your fingers with his on the other.

"Ah you tell me. I'm the one that's sent to the store to replenish. Older brother privilege and stuff."

You couldn't help but giggle.

"Didn't know you bullied your brother like that."

"Can't believe you're in his side."

"Hey, I'm the youngest too. Totally relate on that"

"Anyways, a pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Gabriel.."

"Don't wanna sound rude but I gotta go meet a client. See you guys later."

"Ve con cuidado." (Careful out there)

"Have a nice day, Gabriel."

"You both too."

Gabriel retreated to his room to then leave the apartment with his laptop.

"You can breath now, Pitufina"

"Stop calling me that? Please?"

He shook his head and kissed you.

"Then it wouldn't be fun to do that"

"Ya pues. Dame otro." He kissed you again with a smile and you giggled. (Enough. Gimme another one)

"Wanna watch a movie or you want me to cook for you?"

"Both? Please?"

"Sure"

[muder-boner]

☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠

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[kairiscorner]

Watching miguel marry somebody else? Then gabri courts us /j

(sighs)

walking down the aisle with someone who isn't me — miguel o'hara x reader

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

summary: you felt your whole world crumble when you were there with him, by the altar—just not you as the one he'll be marrying. you feel like crying, screaming, running away—you just can't stand the sight of miguel being with anybody but you. but could you blame him? you waited too late to tell him the truth, what you really felt. word count: 868

you were never one to cry at weddings, you honestly couldn't care about someone starting their life again with the addition of another person in it. if anything, weddings always brought smiles to your face. you always dreamed as a young child what your wedding would be like, how beautiful your spouse would be, how tall your cake would be, how much tears your parents and friends would shed, and just... how happy you were going to be for the rest of your life. and just when you thought you found that person... everything comes crashing down on you when he tells you himself, with a wide grin and his right hand over his left, obscuring his surprise, that he's found someone special to him.

why, oh why, universe, do you find your sorrow entertaining?

and the worst part of it all was... you were the person of honor at his wedding. you stood there, close to him, but not close enough to be that special person who he gazed at with such affection, held overflowing love and devotion for in his heart, the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with. you were none of those things to him, and for the first time, you saw yourself outside of your body, you wanted to grab yourself by the shoulders and shake you awake. you wanted to slap that fraudulent smile off your face, it hurt to force yourself to stretch a smile this wide when all you wanted to do was sob yourself into next month.

but you couldn't do that, no. you'd be selfish for not being there when he specifically asked you to. besides, it was your fault for not admitting to him sooner. you had loved him for more than a decade, you had adored him for what was about to be 15 years in the making. he held your heart in the palm of his hands without even knowing it; with his silly smiles when he would be caught off guard snickering at something, when he'd look all aloof and stoic when completely in focus, and when that shine and widening of his eyebrows when his interest has been piqued—when he's completely enamored with something—or someone, it seemed—you felt your heart beat a little faster, sometimes skipping to beat once or twice altogether.

you realized it at the end of your junior year, you were in love with miguel o'hara, the only guy who ever looked at you like you were worth something, despite his unbearable attitude and snarkiness—he cared about you a lot more than he's ever cared anyone else. but caring for and loving are not one in the same. you were the one he cared for, but you never were the one he loved.

you supported him and were there for him even after you realized your feelings for him. you were there when his previous partners left him, when he was struggling with his powers at first—you were actually the first person he admitted about them to, he trusted you that much. you were there for him when he needed immediate medical attention, and you were there to listen to him go on and on about his inner turmoils.

you were there. you were always there. you hoped that maybe he'd open his eyes one day to the truth of it all, that no one would ever love him the way you loved him. you felt like you were owed to be with him at the end of all this, that one day, he'd ask you if you loved him, and you'd say yes, and he'd take you up in his arms and thank the stars above that you loved him back. but that kind of stuff only happens in fairy tales, and you were living in a bleak, gray reality where nice people can only go so far.

and here you were, the only one who ever really loved him, never once being seen that way by the man you loved. he was getting married to someone else, someone whose name you didn't care to remember, whose face you didn't wish to keep stowed away in the depths of your mind. you knew he was a catch, you knew a lot of people have the same dreams as you do, to have a piece of him—to bed him, to wake up with him, to hold his hand and kiss him and forget your worries as he holds you close and reassures you he's here for you—but that's all it'll ever be: dreams.

as they exchanged vows and their 'i do's', miguel sneaks a look at you and smiles widely, and it wasn't out of sympathy or friendship—it was a smile that thanked you, a smile that reassured you that even if he's married... he appreciates you. and it was only here, at this very altar, that you found yourself crying for the first time at a wedding; a wedding you would've felt joyous at, proud of for your friend that he found his somebody—if you could only stop yourself from wishing that somebody was you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0

[miguel-owhora]

brutus is so miguel coded

anyways au time bc im craisy !!!

au where gabriella lives bc the universe shocks up and doesnt react to miguel taking over so miguel gets away with it :3 but he still creates the spider society n stuff, but people are more aware of what he did n theyre like .... ermm...... but miguel doesnt want anyone destroying his happy life so he takes it upon himself to literally destroy their world if they question what he did :3

and so it goes like that until gabriella is older, probably a teenager, n she finds out what happened. idk what happens but miggy dies ! unfortunately. but gabri is so shellshock she does the very thing she told herself she'd never do: she takes the spot of another gabriella and pretends nothing happens. she pretends her 'father' never died, she pretends to be that gabriella, and just like our miguel, the universe fails to react to her and she gets away with it :3

and then she takes over the spider society n has to deal w people telling her she's exactly like her father.

[cupcakeinat0r]

HIIII 🌵 here again !!

Idk about you but my biggest kinda like headcanon about my guy Miguel is that Peter buys him a bunch of those comedy shirts and gives him pictures of Mayday along with little gifts and stuff and that he keeps ALL of them. Like he defo has a little cupboard or something dedicated to them. Yk what I mean?? He probably has a little shrine for Mayday, dare I say. Did you see the way he held her in that one atsv scene where he was introduced to Miles, and how he only gave her back when she had reached for Peter?? Ugh. I’m melting into a puddle on the floor.

I’m gonna sound like an absolute maniac here talking about Miguel because he’s genuinely a massive fixation of mine but carrying on what I said in the last post, it would be insane if he didn’t get a redemption arc or got shunned as the bad guy over and over. Having a daughter disappear in your arms is probably one of the most traumatising things to happen to someone. We got build up, build up, build up and then the climax of the problem, but no solution. What will the solution be?? Sony??? Hello??? They CANNOT leave us hanging like that.

Honestly it’s really hard to hate ANYONE in the spiderverse movies. I saw a tumblr post the other day where someone said that everyone in the movies were depicted as real people, with an equally complex story, so it’s more difficult to hate them. I agree with it 100%. Yeah, Miguel was really horrible to Miles and the others and they deserve a massive apology but Miguel also probably shuts himself away instead of talking to people, so he feels combined guilt and also stress because he just never talks about it. Anyone would snap like that. I really hope we get to see a softer side of him, or like you said: a heart to heart talk to someone or even to himself so we can understand him more. Maybe we can get a little insight of what happened in his original universe after he left to be a dad in the other one???

I’m gonna shut up now bcs this is getting really long and this is kind of me just dumping my thoughts into your asks (sorryyyttt) is it obvious I really love this man

- 🌵 (she/her (pronouns reveal??? Insane. I might also start putting the date here so I can remember when I wrote it if you answer these (17/6/24))) LOVE YOU

Hi 🌵!!!!!!<3

Awww wait that hc is so cute!!! He would most likely never tell or let anyone know that he keeps those gifts lmao. And that man loves that little girl, and yes, that is a strong word, but Miguel is a girl dad thru n thru n that lil baby is his weakness!!

Right! They’re probably off in some cupboard or hidden drawer at his lab. It’d be real easy to hide things in there considering how dark it is lmao. Do you think in order to feel something, he’ll go n look at those ‘gifts’ n think about Gabriella n then start getting emotional then then then and then

No yeah it would definitely feel like a cheat if Sony didn’t spend some time on him. It would be a huuuuge fumble. Like, Sony, y’all have a million dollar character right here that is begging for redemption, please n thank you <3 On my knees and praying to whoever is up there that the girlies at Sony write a scene of Miguel being soft. Like…. Please…. Yall gave him 10 minutes of screen time and he was mad for every single one of them.

That would be a nice idea!!! I have hopes that they’ll expand on that. I’m just saying, if it ends up that the theory is actual BS and Gabri’s dimension didn’t fall bc of Miguel but bc of something completely unrelated… I could literally pass away happy omfg.

Don’t be sorry!!! I love when people leave asks like these!!! That’s we come on this app, to let our fixations fixate !!! We love our man <3

Ngl, the date thing is actually kinda helpful cuz then I see it n I’m like “omfg I’m the worst I made this person wait days before I answered this ask, let me respond to it now” lmao. And omg!! She/her!!! A fellow girlie (gn)!!!!

Thanks for sending this in, luv! Always a pleasure talking to you 🫶🌵 ily MWAH <3

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

SEASON 5 ENDING SPOILERS

ok yknow what - more thoughts about the ending of S5 and why I was so thrown by it

Cat Noir wasn't there!!! CAT NOIR WASN'T IN THE GRAND FINALE DEFEAT OF HAWK MOTH?? HOW IS THIS REAL??

That's one thing.

The other thing is how ambiguous Gabriel's feelings toward Adrien actually ARE. does he hate him? see him as someone to be controlled? as a power play? what's up with the pancakes and the 'call me dad' then??? is it just for show/a ruse/a trick/a trap that'll get revealed?

I could see a real change of heart happening when he realized he was dying. if he didn't also continue browbeating Adrien about being with Kagami and not Marinette.

he didn't HAVE a rich-person superiority complex UNTIL season 5, either, so that came out of nowhere.

his attitude towards Adrien doesn't seem to have changed at all WHAT DO THE PANCAKES MEAN THEN?? Even Nathalie is surprised by this! it is never explained!

Then Ladybug comes in with "Nathalie is dying, you're dying, how much sacrifices are you willing to make?? Adrien has moved on, but you're about to DESTROY him! Nathalie is dying! You're dying! Giving his mother back won't help anything!"

and this works?? for some reason?? looking back I suppose the pancakes DID mean he cared for Adrien?????? and the Kagami thing was the one and only thing he put his foot down about?

IDK this needed to be foreshadowed a LOT better. we needed to really see him, telling Emilie or Nathalie "wow... I've been treating Adrien so poorly lately... I should be a better dad... this is really important to me. like even to the point of like. half the reason I'm bringing Emilie back at all is for him!" And guess what? He DID tell this (or most of it) to Adrien! And I didn't believe him! Why? BC HE'S LIED TO ADRIEN BEFORE. He's also manipulated Adrien's friends (and anyone, really!) just to get an akuma victim. (don't tell me this wasn't what was happening WAY BACK IN THE BUBBLER.)

honestly I've NEVER been sure whether Gabriel's concern for Adrien is real. it seemed real in Santa Claws. It seemed very much less real in The Collector. It seemed less and less real with every alternate reality where Adrien/Cat Noir was akumatized because Gabriel found out his identity.

APPARENTLY IT WAS REAL THO? just twisted?

like - the one time Gabriel saw Adrien, just Adrien, and DIDN'T akumatize him! and the time Adrien was in danger and Gabriel gave different instructions to an akumatized villain! the moment Gabriel realizes he's Cat Noir he becomes fair game??

Anyways this. all helps us with not knowing until the last moment what Gabriel is gonna do when he has both Miraculouses to make a wish. but it's NOT WORTH THE AUDIENCE CONFUSION!

and then we have a timeskip to 'happily ever after' basically and the main focus is the environment!?!? and the political system?!?! SINCE WHEN WAS MYLENE THE MAIN CHARACTER OF THIS SHOW?? SINCE WHEN WAS MS BUSTIER THE MAIN CHARACTER?? got me really questioning also bc all this good stuff is too good to be true??? what's the catch?? is Hawk Moth ruler over all Paris or smth?? the whole show is legit about balance, does that only mean balance when it comes to Miraculouses? what's the downside to all this utopian stuff??

we see ?Emilie? I thought?!?! existing? (but apparently it was Amelie??) and that's about ALL the closure we get for ANYTHING

WHAT EVEN HAPPENED THEN? WHAT WAS THE WISH? I thought Gabriel wished for Emilie to be brought back! and the sacrifice was (plot twist!) HIMSELF since he was dying anyway??? BUT NO APPARENTLY THAT WAS AMELIE SO WHAT DID HE EVEN DO? Did he sacrifice himself so NATHALIE could live (I don't remember if she's around but she might've been) for Adrien, and Gabriel could be reunited with Emilie in death??

I COULDN'T EVEN TELL IF MARINETTE AND ADRIEN WERE STILL THE HOLDERS OF THEIR MIRACULOUSES??? WAS THAT WISHED AWAY?? ARE THEY NOT NEEDED ANYMORE BC IT'S HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER PARISIAN UTOPIA NOW?? GABRIEL TALKED ABOUT MAKING MULTIPLE WISHES WHAT DID HE EVEN DO???

and! lastly! and most importantly! WHY DOESN'T ADRIEN KNOW ANYTHING? WHY DOESN'T CAT NOIR KNOW ANYTHING? WHY WASN'T ADRIEN/CAT NOIR THERE FOR THE ACTUAL LEGIT FINALE OF THE SHOW?!?!?!?!

instead we get unified Plagg and Tikki FOR LADYBUG??

IS THIS NOT A TEAM EFFORT?

HAS IT NOT BEEN LADYBUG AND CAT NOIR AGAINST THE WORLD FROM SEASON 1, EPISODE 1? WAS IT NOT INTENTIONAL IN S5 WHEN THE MIRACULOUSES WERE LOST AND IT WENT BACK TO BEING A PARTNERSHIP INSTEAD OF A TEAM???

HOW IS ADRIEN/CAT NOIR NOT THERE FOR THE FINALE!?!?

just. for real guys

legit

endings need to be decisive. NOT vague and ambiguous. not this way.

TL;DR Adrien/Cat Noir needed to be there, and we needed much more clarity on Gabriel/Hawk Moth's motives/intentions. also the ending/epilogue needed. uh. much better prioritization lol.

[jmflowers]

Please dedicate to @lacallemojada

For APF, who underestimates how cute I can make disgusting things. And for Ducks, who humoured me and my ridiculous ideas.

Solemates

One of her socks goes missing the day after she wins gold.

Maya doesn’t notice right away, not until she’s packing her bags to leave the athlete’s village. Not until there’s only one sweaty, blood-covered sock in her pile of dirty clothes.

She looks for it, at first, because she isn’t really thinking about that. Isn’t thinking about anything except how her father probably wants to frame them, wants to hang them above the mantle in the living room as a testament to what a Bishop is capable of.

What a Bishop can win.

What a Bishop can overcome.

She gives up, after a while, when it’s clear there’s no sock to be found. Instead, she shoves her sports bras and her leggings and her training gear into her duffel bag, ignoring the sharp stench of sweat laced into the fabric.

Ignoring the sharp pinch of her ankle in the bandage wrapped around it.

When she steps out of her room for the last time, gold medal hanging heavily around her neck, she doesn’t look back. Doesn’t think too hard about the missing sock.

Doesn’t think at all about dropping the other one in the trash.

~

Carina’s living in Milan when it arrives.

Actually, living in is a generous term. She’s more gravitating, lugging herself between hotel rooms and friends’ couches with only a suitcase to her name.

It hurts too much to put down roots, still.

And she’s not really thinking about what anything means, when it shows up on the bathroom floor. Isn’t thinking anything beyond the grief sticking in her bones.

Or maybe that she should really find better accommodations if the cleaning staff would miss a disgusting, sweaty, bloody sock on the bathroom floor.

But then it does come rushing back, all at once. Her mother’s voice, soft and familiar and comforting, weaving a tale of soulmates and eternity and meant to be.

She isn’t expecting it, when it arrives. Has given up expecting that such a thing is even meant for someone such as her. But she doesn’t deny it, when it appears.

It’s too hard to ignore when it smells so bad.  

~

Her bra goes missing a couple months later, when she’s settled back into the spare room at Gabriella’s. And that Carina does notice right away, because she’d washed it and hung it in the bathroom with the intention of wearing it and the whole draw of moving back in with Gabri is that she doesn’t touch her stuff and –

Gabriella stares at her like she has grown an extra head when she asks. “Why would I take your bra?” she mutters, strolling past into the kitchen, “It wouldn’t fit me.”

She remembers again, then; remembers the sock wrapped in a plastic bag to hide its smell, shoved into the very bottom of her suitcase. It feels unfair, just a little, to know that someone, somewhere in the world, has gotten her nice bra and in return she’s received their disgusting sock.

Their bloody, sweaty, stinky sock.

At least her bra was clean.

~

Maya finds it in her pack while she’s sorting through her things on a hostel bed in Nepal.

She pales instantly, shoving it into the open pocket to hide it from her bunk mate. Shakti has been too intrigued by everything Maya has done in the last few days they’ve been together – from brushing her hair to doing sit ups on the floor.

Shakti doesn’t need to see the rather lacey bralette that’s somehow magically appeared in Maya’s pack.

Unless Shakti is the one…

No, Maya thinks instantly, there’s no way. It must’ve been one of the other girls, one of the other many people she’s crossed paths with in the last week of her travels.

A funny joke.

The fabric is soft beneath her fingers, despite the lace. Warm, almost.

And tiny; far too small to fit her own breasts.

She keeps it without much more thought, wondering if maybe she’ll cross paths with the girl who put it there. Wondering if maybe she’ll get a bit of practice removing it from the body it belongs to.

She doesn’t think about what the appearance of an undergarment is supposed to mean.

~

Andy gushes about it years later, grinning over a shot glass on her front porch.

She’d found her sock as a child, tucked beneath the covers of her bed. She thinks it belongs to Ryan, Maya knows, thinks the flirty glances they’ve been sharing across the front lawns of their parents’ houses mean they’re meant to be.

It all sounds ridiculous to Maya, though. Too far-fetched to be true.

Even if Vic has found one, too. An undershirt, stained with sweat, buried in the bottom of her gym bag while she was at the academy.  

“I bet that means he’s in really good shape,” Andy suggests, smirking salaciously.

“What about you, Bishop?” Vic asks, handing over another shot of vodka.

Maya laughs, throwing it back quickly, drinking away the memory of soft lace beneath her fingers. “Monogamy is for the weak,” she declares loudly, eyes shifting to Andy’s face and the sharp fall of her smile. “Or the very, very dedicated.”

“Not quite monogamy,” Vic challenges, glancing off towards the approaching form of Ryan.

“Yeah,” Andy whispers, “It’s soulmates.”

~

She doesn’t think about it, when Maya’s warm hand slides into her own, a drink and a story hovering between them. Doesn’t think about it when they talk on the phone, or over dinner, or beneath the covers of Maya’s bed.

Carina doesn’t even think about it when Maya shows her the gold medal for the first time, her fingers soft and her kisses softer.

In fact, she forgets about it at all until she shoves her hand into the bottom drawer of her dresser, searching for the last of her things to pack, and lands on the plastic bag instead.

She knows what’s inside without looking. Remembers the sweat stains and the blood and the smell. It’s ridiculous, to have hauled it along with her for all these years.

Ridiculous, that she drops it into the box alongside the rest of her clothes, destined for their new home with Maya.

~

Carina is very good at packing, Maya finds, but less so at unpacking.

Her boxes of things litter every surface of their newly-shared apartment, the only indication of Carina’s organization the carefully written labels stating that they are, at least, in the right rooms. Like the box of toiletries in the corner of the bathroom.

Or the one that’s taken up residence on top of the dresser instead of in it.

Maya starts there, carefully extracting articles of clothing Carina has deemed okay to be folded. Her other things – the nicer things – have already been hung safely in the bedroom closet, Maya’s own collection of rarely-worn dresses and jackets relegated down the hall to the living room.

She stops when she reaches the bottom, confused by the plastic bag nestled amidst Carina’s intimates. It smells a bit, even though it’s been carefully wrapped up, completely out of place within the gentle scent of Carina’s laundry detergent.

“Carina?” she calls before she can think better of it, before she can even really register what it might be, “Is this yours?”

“Oh,” Carina murmurs when she appears in the doorway, a spatula still in her hands. She lowers it slowly, considering.

“Is this yours?” Maya asks again.

Carina frowns. “Sort of,” she nods, “It’s my… sock.”

“Oh,” Maya repeats, glancing down at it in her hands, “Oh.”

“You can throw it out,” Carina suggests, turning back towards the kitchen, “I don’t need it.”

“Hey, wait,” Maya calls after her, following, still clutching the offending object tightly. “How long have you had this?”

Carina shrugs, suddenly indifferent as she resumes unpacking her kitchen boxes, carefully arranging items in drawers. She’s good at it, now that she’s trying to deflect.

“You don’t even want to open it?” Maya offers. “One last time?”

Carina shakes her head. “I don’t need to.” She looks up, smiling softly, effortlessly yanking the breath from Maya’s lungs when she promises, “I love you, Maya.”

“Besides,” she adds on as an afterthought, waving her hand between them as though dismissing it, “It’s stinky and sweaty and covered with blood. I should’ve thrown it out years ago.”

“Now I have to see it,” Maya laughs, grabbing hold of Carina’s wrist to pull her closer.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Carina argues, tipping into Maya’s arms, “I am still choosing you, bambina.”

“But what if we’re sole mates,” Maya chuckles anyways, teasing even as Carina’s words send a flood of butterflies through her stomach. “What if it’s my sock inside this bag?”

“If it is,” Carina whispers, nuzzling closer, “I’d like my own sock drawer, because yours are very gross.”

She unwraps it slowly, both of them recoiling slightly as the years-old sweat reaches their noses. It’s plain looking, beneath the blood stains; simple.

Except for the Team USA logo on the toes.

“Oh,” Maya mumbles.

She steps away, slowly at first and then quickly, her feet picking up speed as her mind does. She dashes towards the living room closet, reaching on her tiptoes for the box tucked into a corner on the shelf.

She should’ve known, she thinks. Should’ve considered, that first night. The first time she pulled lace up and away from Carina’s body. The first time Carina’s array of bras appeared along the top of the shower door, hung to dry.

The first time her fingers felt the warmth of soft fabric beneath them.

Maya opens the box slowly, uncovering the bralette she’s kept for all these years.

“Oh,” Carina echoes when she turns. “Oh.”

“My sock,” Maya whispers, stumbling back across the room to Carina’s side, feeling the pull of her like gravity. “My Olympic Gold Medal sock.”

“Now I definitely want my own drawer,” Carina declares, dipping low to capture Maya’s mouth with her own, “And my favourite bra back.”

[catmansquad]

Excerpt: "Fitting In"

Gabriel spends time raiding with familiar faces, while Miguel struggles with the weight of a new, heavy secret... (Modern AU)

He stood at the door to his brother’s apartment, a bag of two takeaway boxes in one hand as his other nudged his tinted glasses back up his face, then knocked on the door.

‘Gabri!’

He could hear his brother on the other side of the door; the click of keys on a keyboard, an almost frantic tapping, and his brother’s muffled voice. Miguel rolled his eyes and knocked once again.

‘Gabri!!’ He had told his brother he’d be stopping by, and that he’d be bringing dinner.

Exhaling in soft annoyance, Miguel counted to three, then slammed his fist on the door hard enough that he felt the whole frame rattle.

‘GABRIEL!’

He heard his brother yelp, cursing and muttering apologies, then footsteps squeaking across the room towards the door. Miguel relaxed as he heard the door chain being removed, the click of a lock, and the door was pulled open to reveal his brother’s sheepish expression, hair messier than usual, and a white headset resting around his neck that Miguel could hear noise and chatter from.

‘… Aha…. Hi, Brother… Sorry, I uh… There was a raid happening and I got distracted, and kinda forgot…?’

Miguel’s gaze narrowed softly behind his glasses and he lived in hope that Gabriel could feel the weight of his stare. Once again was his brother wearing an explosion of mismatching colour, worst of all were the bright pink slippers on his feet, designed like rabbits with googly eyes that squeaked with each step he took.

‘Gabri, why do you always dress like you have a hurricane in your wardrobe?’

His brother gave him a judgemental stare, resting hands on his hips.

‘Why are you still mumbling, brother? Why do you not seem to have any colour in your wardrobe?’

Gabriel grabbed at his headset, lifting one side to his ear and listened to it.

‘Uh-oh… C-come in, Miggy. Thanks for bringing dinner- what do we have?’ He stepped back, allowing his big brother into his apartment.

‘Chinese.’ Miguel muttered simply, glancing around the apartment.

Much like Miguel, his brother’s apartment reflected his personality and interests. It was a bright and colourful thing, walls covered in posters of Discordance’s various expansions, plush pastel furniture and a great sofa that faced a very large wall-mounted television. In sharp contrast to Miguel’s far more calm and monochromatic choice of décor. His brother scrambled back to the sofa, dragging a keyboard and mouse back into his lap and pulling his headset back up.

‘Yo! I’m back, sorry… My brother’s here- So, do we need any stuff mended? We’re good for food and pots, yeah?’

Gabriel flicked his headset back to mute as Miguel sat in one of the soft armchairs, placing the takeaway bag on the coffee table and taking out the two white boxes of oily prawn noodles.

‘Thank you, Miggy… They say hello, by the way.’

‘How are you doing on your… thing, Gabri? Your food’s going to get cold.’

At Miguel’s question, Gabriel rested with a finger on the mute button of his headset, eyes darting between his brother and the television screen; where a group of five adventurers in styles ranging from medieval to futuristic were standing in a ravaged street of a post-apocalyptic city beneath blood red skies and an eclipsed sun.

‘I… I’ll just reheat it… Sorry, they’re getting impatient… Yeah, sorry, I’m here. I’m good to go-! Hobie, did you change jobs again? Again? Yeah, I know you “don’t believe in consistency”, but in the past month, you’ve been; Rebel, Gunner, Apostate, Rebel, Chronomancer, Martialist….’

Miguel held a prawn between chopsticks, listening to his brother’s continuing rant before popping it into his mouth. His brother was, once again, going to be left with cold food.

‘…. Extant, Rebel, Technician, Bulwark, Scholar…’

Miguel found his brother’s continuing rant far more interesting than what was happening on the screen. Instead, he focused on his food, rolling the prawn around his mouth, teasing it with his fangs as he focused on learning how to dry bite. It was all well and good not being affected by his own venom, but would still like to not taste its powerful bitter tang on nearly everything he ate.

‘… Judge, Knight Errant, and now back to Rebel again. Please, can we just get started…?’

‘C’mon, we’ve just got the lass boss to get through- Pav… Pav- please let Hobie go first. I know you’re the tank, but he can see the… Traps- and you’re dead again. Big shiny treasure out in the open, what were you expecting?’

Miguel placed the chopsticks into his empty takeaway box, still stained with the traces of oil, and placed it on the coffee table beside the one that his brother had yet to touch. Well fed, and having apparently mastered the art of keeping his venom glands under control, the older O’Hara sibling kicked off his shoes and curled up, sinking deeper into the soothing comfort of his brother’s furniture, feeling very much like a lazy cat.

‘I think your food’s gone cold, brother….’ He had half a mind to pull off his sunglasses, night was starting to fall and Gabriel was far too engrossed in his raiding party to notice how his big brother’s eyes had turned blood red. He was sure his brother hadn’t even heard what he had said.

‘…. Well, it’s a Nightmare raid, Pav. It’s not meant to be easy. This is Nightmare, not “Where’s my medal and plate of orange slices for participation”?- Yeah, great, Pav. You can get your orange slices once we’re done here.’ There was a very subtle edge to his brother’s words, and Miguel knew him well enough to know that irritation was building somewhere deep beneath the surface.

‘I hope you like reheating cold takeaway, brother. God knows I love it as much as I love complete strangers grabbing my ass when I’m performing…’ Miguel murmured, eyes half lidded as he glanced at the screen; to where the raiding party were approaching a colossal figure that resembled Cthulhu, made from wood and dark red crystal.

‘…. I know that, but you’re just putting more strain on me and Peni, our heals aren’t bottomless…’

Miguel closed his eyes briefly, fingers resting on the frame of his sunglasses, ready to pull them off. He hesitated, then opened his eyes again and looked to his little brother, speaking in a tiny, broken voice as he allowed his guard to fall, vulnerability moving to the surface.

‘I… I have superpowers, Gabri…’

His heart skipped a beat as his brother glanced at him, their eyes met for a brief moment, then his gaze returned to the screen.

‘Hey, Peni? Yeah, Mig says your gun looks like a Supersoaker.’

The older O’Hara sibling quietly exhaled a soft sigh, putting his guards back up as he quietly decided that he would count his blessings with his oblivious brother.

‘YES! Get fucked, Bloodmoon Harbinger!’

Gabriel punched their air as the wooden Cthulhu crumbled, the night skies above resuming their usual night blue hues. The assembled party began to emote and celebrate; Hobie’s avatar popping and spraying a bottle of champagne, as Pavtir’s danced with glowsticks, and Peni’s was either dead on the floor or playing at being so. Miguel watched his brother celebrate, and he could even hear the muffled celebrations of his fellow raiders through the headset. He also heard Gabriel’s stomach growl like a hungry beast and watched his little brother’s expression change from joy to a soft frown.

‘… ‘kay, I need to get some food now, like… Desperately. Good job, see you next week, yeah? Yeah? Take care, see you! Bye, bye, adios!’ With a few keystrokes, Gabriel had disconnected from the game and pulled his headset off, hair getting even more messed up. He placed everything aside and grabbed the untouched takeaway box like it was his lifeline.

‘Ah…’

‘Oh, stone cold, Gabri?’ Miguel asked him with a raised eyebrow.

‘Yeah. Well, that’s nothing the microwave won’t solve! ‘

Miguel pushed up his sunglasses as he buried his face into the palm of his hand and sighed softly. His brother’s joy truly was irrepressible.

‘Have you got a costume for Halloween, Miggy?’

‘Cost-? You assume I still want to go trick-or-treating at my age?’

‘Well, we don’t need to go trick-or-treating, brother! Stop talking like you’re in your forties. Seriously, you’re thirty-four.’ He heard the clang of the door and beep of the microwave running, Gabriel leaned back in from the kitchen.

‘It’s just about dressing up and having fun. Being scary for a night. So, what do you think?’

‘I’m thinking September is too early to start thinking about Halloween.’ Miguel responded, rolling his eyes, already growing tired of the topic of discussion. The last time he had worn any kind of Halloween costume, it had been the year when he’d first started the gig as Spider-Man, his brother had decided in his infinite wisdom, to pick out a costume for him, and had returned with a scarier version of the costume he knew on the stage. It had been the one and only time he’d ever worn it.

‘Alright, alright, be like that… But how’s it going with you and your guy? You got a date yet?’

‘No. I don’t expect to any time soon, Gabri. He-‘

The beep of the microwave made his brother duck back into the kitchen and he emerged back inside, carrying a small plate with the steaming noodles on.

‘Ay… Ay, ay, ay! Caliente! Caliente!’ His brother’s footsteps squeaked across the room, and Miguel stared at the pink slippers, very well aware that a matching set, in bright orange, were left unloved and unworn in his own wardrobe; another one of his brother’s brilliant gifts.

‘He’s… going through a difficult time. Later, we will.’

‘Aww, that sucks…’ Gabriel managed through a mouthful of steaming noodles, trying to pull a pitying expression while chewing. He just ended up looking like he was about to sneeze.

[themattress]

Assorted “Archie’s Sonic the Hedgehog” Opinions, Complaints, and Observations

(This post and this post serving as references.)

- The Classic Era remains the comic at its best. It knew exactly what it wanted to be at the start, a silly colorful kids’ book promoting SEGA’s mascot, but then decided it wanted to get more serious with a continuous narrative and character development, and for the most part (excluding the stuff Ken Penders did with Knuckles) it did it well. The first 15 issues are totally AoStH-style silly, the next 10 issues have a more dramatic SatAM-style undercurrent, the following 10 issues flip it so that the AoStH-style silliness is the undercurrent, and the last 15 issues are totally SaTAM-style drama, with the only weird instances of tonal off-ness being the more serious Princess Sally miniseries early in and the more goofy Sonic Blast special later on (and we do NOT talk about Sonic Live!, it isn’t canon so it may as well not exist.)

- Discounting the Knuckles series and many of the increasingly asinine Super Specials, I am also incredibly fond of the Adventuring Era, which was full of good writing, world-building and characterization for everyone not being written by Ken Penders, and was even able to pull off a Sonic Adventure adaptation that made sense in the context of the series and was better than it had any right being given the troubled circumstances behind its production. The comic series during the Classic and Adventuring Eras WAS Sonic for me throughout my childhood.

- But like many, the Declining Era is where the series lost me. I don’t blame Karl Bollers for this; a lot of his writing was still solid. But the editor for some reason or other decided to push the serious tone too far and add romantic furry teen drama to the equation for good measure. Worse still, after #105 Robotnik suffered from some massive villain decay and a general loss of direction. THE villain of the series began to feel like an afterthought, and it pissed me off. With that said, I’ve....kind of softened on the Declining Era in recent years. It’s still not good, there’s plenty wrong with it (especially the artwork), but compared to the era that followed it’s perfectly tolerable, and #125, with some re-working, would have made a decent series finale.

- Yes, the Miserable Era was the nadir of quality in the series and Ian Flynn being hired was a marked improvement. No, I do not agree he was the savior of the Sonic comics he’s been made out to be - not in the Renewal Era, not in the Burdened Era, not in the Reboot Era, and not even in the current IDW Comics. There’s just way too often where his stories are transparently advancing an Agenda(TM). And whether or not you agree with the Agenda(TM) being advanced is irrelevant, because after enough instances of it happening you just get sick of the characters and world of Sonic being manipulated for Agendas(TM). I feel like prime examples of this are the King Scourge arc and the Iron Dominion arc. Ian previously wrote some truly epic sequential story arcs that lasted anywhere from 2 to 5 issues, as is the norm for this series. And yet these two arcs lasted 9 issues and 12 issues respectively. Why? Because Flynn had an Agenda(TM) to push these edgy reinventions of old lame villains as major league threats in order to show just how talented a writer he really is. The co-running King Naugus and Mecha Sally arcs were a similar deal, as was the Zeti stuff in IDW. And it’s all just so tiresome, just as tiresome as anything Penders and Gabrie put the comic through.

- One thing I appreciate both the Archie comic series and SatAM show for is establishing a distinct world, supporting cast and mythology for Sonic long before the games got around to doing it. With that said, I liked Archie’s better since it had elements of the games and AoStH in addition to SatAM, and the stuff that was taken from SatAM was mostly executed better; the glaring exception being the characterizations of King Acorn and Sally post-Classic Era.

- Speaking of which, worst characters over the course of the series: King Maximillian Acorn, Geoffrey St. John, Drago the Wolf, Hershey the Cat, Tommy the Turtle, Colin Kintobor Sr., Evil Sonic / Scourge, Fiona the Fox, Monkey Khan, the entire Iron Dominion, Dr. Ian Droid, Locke and the Echidna Brotherhood, Dimitri and most of the Dark Legion, Monk, Hunter, Tails’ douchey parents, Zonic the Zone Cop, Mecha Robotnik, Thrash the Devil, and Lara-Su.

- In regards to shipping, the Sonic/Sally/Mina love triangle was stupid and should not have been a thing, and then after #134 Sonic and Sally should have remained broken up and Sonic shouldn’t have pursued any form of romance afterward. As for Knuckles, he should have had a period apart from Julie-Su where they both better figured themselves out without the other around, and then they could get back together (in a poly threesome with Rouge).

- The reboot was largely for the best; even without Ken Penders’ lawsuit bullshit there was so much baggage weighing the series down and it had drifted so far away from the rest of the franchise that a reboot honestly felt logical. Don’t think I’m absolving Penders though, as such a reboot absolutely should have happened on better terms than the forced way it did.

- I will always maintain that the place we ended the series at was, in fact, a good place to end the comic series. But sadly, it wasn’t a good place to end the reboot, which for all intents and purposes had only just begun and had so much more that could be done with it. I will always hold some resentment toward SEGA for not just allowing the reboot to continue under IDW, especially when Ian Flynn keeps trying to make the IDW series like the Archie series anyway.

- Favorite story arcs: Sally’s Crusade (#17-18, SP1), the Uncle Chuck arc (#30, #32, #34, #37-38), Mecha Madness (#39, SP6, #40), the Death Egg Saga (MS4), Endgame (#47-50/SS6)*, the Naugus Trilogy (#64-66), the Return of Robotnik (#72-76), Sonic Adventure (#79-85 + SS13), Sonic Adventure 2.5 (#124-125), Return to Angel Island (#138-141), Darkest Storm (#162-164), Order From Chaos (#168-169), Eggman Empire (#175-177), Enerjak Reborn (#180-184), Mogul Rising (#185-188), The Egg Phoenix Saga (#198-200), Genesis (#225-230), and much of the Shattered Earth Saga (#253-272 and #276-287).

*Almost solely for #50/SS6, although I enjoy aspects of #47 and #48 as well.

[absolutelybatty]

I wonder how Steve Gabry feels, genuinely, about the sudden influx of new, especially younger, Sally Face fans. Like, I'd heard of SF when the first episode came out and watched a youtuber play it and really enjoyed it! Then completely forgot until a couple years ago where I got insanely into it and now. well, y'all see my blog and posts. But yeah it seemed to be in a relative lull fans-wise when I got into it then there was a massive boom because of tiktok I think. I'm probably projecting but if I were having my work constantly analyzed by thousands of people, many of which being children who I have to believe weren't the target audience, I'd be stressed as hell. I mean, I'm sure he's grateful for the attention and love his work's getting and I'm sure he's glad he can do stuff like sell the sound track on vinyl and such and maybe he's nothing like me at all. But maybe he is and this shit ton of attention and scrutiny is going to drive him insane like I think it'd get to me. I dunno. I try to not put him on a pedestal since I'm such a Sally Face fan and don't want to risk being horribly disappointed when he inevitably has some kind of human flaw. And my attempt to not deify him has got me thinking on how he's handling this and imagining how I would in his position. I honestly hope I never have to know.

[witekspicsbanknotes]

MONACO -> art notes for collectors with Grace Kelly by M. Gabris.

PS.: the black marks here on the sides (and as well as on other notes) suggest, that such a note with very high probability is (or can be) made of plastic / polymer stuff. Such marks usually don't fit / correspond with colors of a note (as here they do) and are an effect of see thru of the black paper (stuff) in the background. Sometimes though, it could be quite different color of background, so the see-thru transparent note can look quite different in those spots. in some other cases, as I've noticed, black marks can express the watermarks to make it more clearer what they really show, so the marks are done purposely by the issuer of a scan.

[kairiscorner]

GABRI WITH A GOTH GF

AYT also guys, please feel free to correct me if i get anything wrong, this is my interpretation however, but if i get anything inaccurate, please do tell me !

gabriel o'hara x steampunk goth fem!reader

at first, he honestly found the stereotypical depictions of the gothic subculture as cringe, like he's a bright and cheery guy (he wears mainly yellow and orange clothing, he is the SUN) and his mental image of a goth person would be all dreary, black and white, into mythical stuff like vampires and other ghouls, but when he met you, his viewpoint changed (mainly also bc he fell in love with you at first sight <33)

he wouldn't have realized you were gothic until you explained to him your whole outfit was based off of a steampunk goth aesthetic, like........ he had an EPIPHANY when you explained goth wasn't just limited to black clothing and makeup

he got interested in the subculture as well, and HE LISTENS TO YOU, FOR HOURS ON END, EXPLAIN AS HE STARES AT YOU WITH A GOOFY GRIN ALL THE WHILE TEEHEE

he's honestly super interested in your whole style though, like he's into the steampunk aspects of it. he LOVES tinkering with technology, and so do you! though since he's from the future and everything, he's kinda unfamiliar with some of the cogs and gears you use, but....... like....... if you're willing to teach him......... hands-on....... like holding his hands to........ to teach him how they work............ he wouldn't mind ;)

he fell deeper in love with you when you expressed your interest in steampunk technology and science fiction, THIS BOY LIVES FOR SCIENCE FICTION, YOU CAN'T TELL ME HE DOESN'T

his idea of a dream date is watching your favorite sci-fi movies with him on your couch and him just....... HOLDING YOUR HAND AND CUDDLING UP WITH YOUUUU

he also likes darker shades of lipstick now, because when you two kiss, his lips are a shade darker after he kisses you when you're wearing dark lipstick <333

YOU TWO HAVE OPPOSING AESTHETICS AND ARE SUPER FUCKING CUTEEEEEE

miguel sometimes sees gabri with black paint on his nails when he takes his gloves off or dark lipstick marks on him after you kiss him, and when gabri catches him staring, he grins and flexes it like, "hah, you wish you had a sweet, loving goth gf don't you-" "you used to hate goths" "THAT WAS BEFORE MY EYES WERE OPENED, MIG, I'VE CHANGED !"

he listens to all your favorite artists, and surprisingly...... he listens to them unironically, casually, and while he works >:3

if you had an interest in victorian literature, specifically poetry, GABRI WOULD FUCKING WRITE YOU THE SWEETEST POEMS EVER LIKE?????????? HE MEANS ALL THE LINES FROM THE BOTTOM OF HIS HEART AND WANTS TO HIDE NOTHING FROM YOU IN HIS POETRY RGHHHHH

tags !! @binibinileonara @ophanimgold

[thenderyoshi]

So I've been meaning to reblog or generally engage more with stuff, but I didn't want to do it on this blog because it's supposed to mainly be for art.

So! Finally! I've made a side blog specifically for this, as well as whatever random thoughts I have that I feel are worth posting: @gabri-mellow

[atrocitahs]

"Gear time!"

Kamado's immediately excited. She's never gotten any from professionals before. She usually makes her own things, with varying levels of success. (Looks? Good levels of success. Ability to actually protect her? ...failure).

"Where do you shop?"

-chimugukuru

" @chimugukuru, I'm broke as fuck, and I literally just came out yesterday. You think I know where all the good shops are? " Ramsey scoffs good-naturedly. " I mean, we could definitely look together, see what we can find? I asked Gabri, and he had no clue. " It's now all a matter of looking in every nook and cranny available in 2099 and 2027. " God, I just now discovered STPs. I had no idea those things existed. I need one of em now. " He's scrolling through their phone, deep into her research. " Sorry, got distracted. So you wanna go looking for some gear, yeah? Get you some real stuff? That is, if you got the cash for it. "