#I am a Miguel hater

[anxious7sami]

Unpopular opinion but I actually dislike that people are comparing Kenji to Miguel 😒👎🏾

Likeee I get why but….NO

Ken Sato>>>>>>>Miguel O’Hara

[h-ikusaa]

hi! ok bye see you next year

[5up3r-50n5]

Miguel:Let me tell you how this is gonna work! You're gonna-

Hobie:You ain't gonna tell me shit

Miguel:Listen!

Hobie:Suck my dick

Miguel:SHUT UP! Listen to me!

Hobie:Suck my dick yo' fuck man

Miguel:LISTEN!

Hobie:Suck my dick

Miguel:YOU'LL BE HERE ON MONDAY-

Hobie:You'll be here sucking my dick

Miguel:LISTEN!

The other (Gwen, Miles, Pavitr and Peni) :*Watching them with popcorn and sodas*

Peter B.:*Covering his daughter ears with a horrified face*

Ham:I wish those things happened in my universe

Noir:*tearing up* Just like home

[xalicemadnessx]

no miguel isnt ur misunderstood handsome uwu dad vampy nerd himbo, he is a deeply troubled impulsive and violent man that chooses to take his anger out on and project his issues onto literal kids, good intentions dont mean shit if ur out here chokeslamming 15 year olds and telling them they are mistakes.

[p3achj3llyf1sh]

I fucking hate him so much if miguel has zero haters i am dead

[yourbestdream]

if the people in the spiderverse tags on every social media do not stop making Every Single Fucking Thing about miguel o'hara i am going to eat my own fingernails

[strivia]

I constantly see the 'parental/protective Miguel O'Hara' tag in fics, often towards Miles, and I am not a fan. Miles already has multiple actually GOOD parental figures, gtfo Miguel For me to ever want him to be anywhere fucking near Miles ever the fuck again he's gonna have to fucking WORK for it. Stay the fuck back Miguel, you've done enough damage. *hisses at him*

[woodlanddreams]

MIGUEL O’HARA FANS STOP WRITING THE MOST UNHINGED FICS AND LEAVING THEM ON MY TUMBLR DOT COM CHALLENGE

[probablyaseamonster]

Hey so this happened to come up on my feed seemingly randomly but for once I'm not complaining /enthusiastic because I did in fact have a Wreck it Ralph phase last month! Helped me feel better when house became hostile lol. I wonder if I forgot I had the tags saved or something, cause I don't remember what I did to have this pop up on my dash lol. Sorry for anyone who has to see it, but honestly, this was the best way y'all could've found out, lmao. I have Seen Shit, and I made a Spotify playlist about said shit. It is, mercifully, only 8 songs long lol

Anyway, remember I said "topical times do exist, but never feel embarassed to like something years after everyone else seemingly moved on! It's both valid to grow out of something, as well as valid to keep it in your hearts! I mean, that is the basis of the retro genre after all..."

Happy 10th Anniversary to the movie that fundamentally changed my brain chemistry and made me unbearable to be around in 2012!!! <333

[beuncle]

many thoughts. tons of thoughts. head exploding. pure brainrot.

[wosofutbolfan]

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”. 

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch. 

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world. 

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band. 

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.” 

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening,  to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.” 

You let out. 

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks. 

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other. 

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was….” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”. 

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp. 

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife.  It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. “It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips.  You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.  

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was. 

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour. 

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs. 

           “We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh. 

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you. 

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face. 

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration. 

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and  her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!”  you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm. 

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can’t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game.  You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;  

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok.  The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life. 

[thatcatangelwriter]

I think after her time at the spider society gwen can be very creepy at times, but like doesn't realize it or register it well.

Like she's gwen stacy. The cursed lover. The doomed girl. She is the face of thousands of corpses. The face of thousands of what ifs. A bittersweet dream. A constant longing.

Most of the time when people look at her they don't see her they see someone else. Her simply existing turns the entire society into a haunted house. She's a ghost, she's better off invisible and while I don't think it's intentional she gets pushed to the side a lot by most people I think Miguel, Jess and Peter might be the exception in this concept but even then its gets complicated due to her connection with Miles and eventually this kinda starts rubbing off in an unsettling way.

Gwen is implied to be very high ranking in the society. Jess calls her "her star pupil" and Lyla warned Gwen about the spot before Hobie and Pavitr. And Miguel's "You knew better, Gwen !" She justs seems to be a part of Miguel's gang of higher ups with Peter B and Jess and all that and considering the fact that she's been there for just a few months that's saying something.

I think Gwen took a lot of training and missions to prove herself, and maybe Miguel sent her on more missions to distract her from Miles and stuff. Hell he might have trained her along with Jessica at times which considering how stern they can be I wouldn't be suprised if this rubbed off on gwen who didn't really have anyone else besides Peter and Hobie. Like she has been Spider Woman more than gwen stacy at this point.

Speaking of Spider Woman, I think it's a good time to bring up how gwen's mental state gets fucked up around her identity as a superhero and how it plays into my idea of her being creepy thing. Because like Spider Woman is litteraly considered a murderer in her dimension and isn't very liked. And while yes its true that in most universes Spider Man has its haters. It's way worse in Gwen's dimension like in the comics she gets shocked when people thank her kinda bad. She has supporters but sadly the people who call her a monster are the most vocal. Like even her dad saw Spider Woman that way and even after finding out who she was still pulled a gun at her face so yeah.

Gwen already blames herself for Peter's death and general public opinion doesn't really help with leaving that guilt behind. She internalizes those things. So I think that do her deep internal feelings Gwen might be at times more ruthless and violent than your typical spider hero which can already be shocking especially in contrast to how graceful she can be as spider woman . I don't think she wants to be. But i think its just the internal intrusive thought "No matter what I do I am a monster why pull back ?" And with her whole canon event I think she might be prone to being reckless and throwing herself at danger and being the one to make the biggest sacrifice because hey she is already fated to die.

So yeah I think that at times when the stakes are high Gwen is one of the scariest spiders when she snaps. Like the treatment she received and internalized kinda jumps out and its not pretty at all. And even just in context of her not being in a mission i still think she can be cryptid looking because she kinda acts like she's invisible and just avoids being noticed due to all the peters around.

Like just imagine her beat up with a broken mask and all you see are her cold eyes and its weird because its almost like you have a dead person staring at you and in some ways that's exactly what it is. Or her accidentally scaring people because she's so quiet that they don't see her coming.

Just her looking like a dead girl walking and yeah maybe in a way she is but...it just looks to real and unsettling.

One last thing about this, Miles notices and hates every second of it. In fact I think all of her close friends hate it.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - mentions of kidnapping, controlling behavior, lyla is both Miguel's number stan and number one hater, and blood.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Hey, show a little faith. Have I ever steered you wrong before?” LYLA whispered, hovering just above your shoulder. You paid her a skeptical look, and she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Okay, whatever, but you know who programmed me! You cannot believe Miguel would be able to give me this shining sense of humor.”

That point, you couldn’t argue – even if you still had your reservations. With a deep, faltering breath, you slipped through the barely cracked door and into Miguel’s shell of a bedroom. It was dark, save for the faint red glow emanating from some half-finished electronic weapon he’d been revising and adjusting for as long as you’d known him, and of course, Miguel was still asleep. It looked like he’d made a half-hearted attempt to pull one of his thin sheets over himself before collapsing face-down on the center of his bed – which was, in all fairness, probably exactly what happened. You’d learned his routine, by now, knew that he’d likely only sleep for another three hours or so before dragging himself out of bed and back to his surveillance room. This might’ve been the first time you’d actually seen him in bed, rather than hunched over one of his many consoles or laid across a bench in one of the lesser-used hallways, having given into his exhaustion before he could make it anywhere more private. You didn’t like it. It reminded you too much of waking up in the middle of the night to Miguel looming over you, silently leering as you pretended not to notice him, even if there was a world of difference between what he’d done to you and what you dreamed of doing to him.

You stepped over the threshold, then paused. “Why am I here again?”

“Blackmail.” Miguel had mentioned off-handedly that LYLA couldn’t feel human emotions, just imitate them, but you could’ve sworn you heard a note of pure zeal in her voice. “You get the picture, I spread it around, and we both benefit.” Your phone buzzed, and you fished it out of your pocket. It was practically a brick (being locked inside Miguel’s spider-fortress meant you were blocked from contacting anyone outside of that fortress, apparently), but you still liked to keep it nearby. In the futile hope that you’d be able to call someone, anyone if you did ever make it out of Miguel’s reach, one day. “He still hasn’t gotten over the 2099-Burger. You’ve seen it, right? That was some of my best work, you should’ve seen—”

You shushed her, and LYLA flickered out of sight before reappearing on the foot of the bed, a polaroid camera now hanging from her neck. Slowly, carefully, you moved forward, only to pause when you actually reached Miguel. He wasn’t wearing anything, because he never wore anything aside from his nanotech and maybe a threadbare pair of sweatpants, if you caught him after a shower. It’d been too long since his last haircut. It was already splitting at the ends, fighting against his half-hearted efforts to comb it back and falling over his face, distorting part of his (relatively) peaceful expression. Even unconscious, he was frowning, but the dark circles under his eyes were less pronounced, his lips contorted into something that was more of a pout than his usual scowl. No wonder LYLA wanted a picture. There had to be more than a few Spider-People who’d want proof that their irritable leader could be something other than angry.

Half stalling for time, half trying to talk that better taste off of your tongue, you turned to LYLA. “Remind me why you can’t just take you own pictures, again?”

“Some of us are just a bunch of flashing light. Hot flashing lights, but y’know, lights.” She held up her miniature camera, and you looked away before the flash could blind you. “C’mon, you can’t say you don’t want to get back at him.”

Right. Getting back at him. This was supposed to be your way of getting back him. He kidnapped you, tore you away from your loved ones, locked you in a case of glass and metal, and you were going to help his AI assistant take a picture of him sleeping. The perfect revenge.

Digging your teeth into the inside of your cheek, you raised your phone, but before you could take LYLA’s picture and retreat back to your own room to sulk, an alarm you hadn’t set went off at full volume. You cursed under your breath, stabbing blindly at the screen in a panicked effort to shut it up before Miguel woke up, but an arm lashed out from Miguel’s heap before you could, catching you by the waist and dragging you into his chest just as the alarm mysteriously when silent. You clenched your eyes shut, bracing yourself for his claws embedded in your skin, for a growled threat, but nothing ever came.

You forced yourself to open your eyes and found that, despite everything, Miguel was still unconscious. You heard a camera shutter behind you – LYLA, her grin too smug not to be genuine. No doubt, you’d be able to see her handiwork on every screen she had access to by tomorrow morning - meaning, of course, every screen in Nueva York. “I thought you said you couldn’t—”

“He’s a deep sleeper. Very reactive, though – did I forget to mention that?” There was a pause, a wink. “Oopsies.”

You grit your grit your teeth. “Are you at least going to make him let me go?”

“Ah – flashing lights, remember?” Again, she flickered, reappearing an inch or so away from your face. “I’ll see you in the morning, lovebirds!”

You opened your mouth, but she was gone before you had the chance to protest. Still, you squirmed against Miguel’s vice-like hold, attempting to shove at his arm only for another to wrap around his midriff, only for him to pin you that much more tightly to his chest. There was a low, heavy grunt, then his nose nudging against the side of your throat, his lips ghosting over your skin. Slowly, instinctually, his fangs pushed into the curve of your neck, drawing out a pained whimper, a thin trail of blood. His teeth lodged in your throat, his body wrapped around yours, he settled against you, his breathing falling back into a steady rhythm. Making sure you’d stay where you were until he woke up – whether that was in one hour or eight.

It was all you could do to take a deep breath, close your eyes, and hope LYLA would lead you to a swifter death, next time.

[forever-rogue]

I don’t know if your still taking request about Miguel but im going to shoot my shot 🕷️🕸️

What about a request where after arguing with the reader (hater to lovers) and he falls into a small crack of the universe and gets a glimpses of married life with her and them having kids. Then he realizes he doesn’t hate her🥲

Totally okay if you don’t want to write it 😊😊

AN | Miguel really is just a big old softie at heart! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Yeah?” you tried to glare at Miguel with as much venom as possible. Judging from the unimpressed look on his face you realized your words probably didn’t land how you wanted them to, “well…well you’re big and stupid! And ugly.”

You heard a snicker from behind you and quickly turned to glare at Peter. He straightened up and cleared his throat immediately. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a smirk as you sighed internally, “that’s the best you could do?”

“I, I…umm…”

“No matter how convincing your words or points are, I’m not changing my mind,” he pushed past you, not even bothering to look you in the face. The rest of the spiders all parted for him, already whispering among themselves, “you’re off any missions from here on out.”

“I hate you!” you shouted at his retreating back, trying to swallow down the tears that threatened to well up and pour down your cheeks.

“I know you do,” of course he heard. Curse the super hearing, “I hate you too.”

You scoffed and turned on your heel, storming off to go anywhere but here. You hated Miguel, you hated his stupid face and his stupid rules and everything about. 

Well, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of anyway. But you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t true. You didn’t truly hate him. You didn’t think you were capable of doing that. 

“Do none of you have anything better to do?!” you shouted loudly, waving your hand around as you stormed out to go…anywhere but there. You just knew that Peter and Miles were following after you, accompanied by some small coos from Mayday. 

Only once you were back out in the fresh air, which currently did little to help your nerves, did you turn around to face your friends. You held up with your hands and shrugged at them, “well? Say what’s on your mind then.”

“That was…a lot,” Miles scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked at Peter, “what happened?”

“Is this about what happened in-”

“Yes,” you hung your head with a heavy groan, “this is about Shanghai. Somehow it is all my fault and that means I cannot ever do anything again.”

“But it was…everyone’s fault,” the boys exchanged a look as Mayday made a small sound of confusion, “not just yours.”

“I’m well aware of that…I thought everyone was aware of that, but for some reason Miguel is not,” you scoffed at the sheer thought of him, “he has this like personal vendetta against me and I have no clue why. But I am so tired of it. Maybe he’s right though, maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

“You’re not seriously considering leaving?” Miles’ entire face dropped as you shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll be over it soon.”

“Even so…maybe it’s time I don’t do this anymore,” you waved your hand around, “maybe it’s time I’m not some sort of fool with a weird radioactive spider bit doing vigilante shit.”

“But…but-” Peter had no clue how to follow that up - he’s been through those exact thoughts several times before, “you can’t just leave.”

“I dunno Peter,” you whispered, “it’s a lot to think about. But for now I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Promise you won’t leave leave without saying goodbye?” you’d miss these two most of all if you did leave. But you had your own decisions to make.

“Swear on it,” that much at least was a promise. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Miguel stopped dead in his tracks as he looked across the park. Part of him was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but no - this was a reality that was simply different from his own. Anything could happen…and apparently anything did happen. 

Because there you were, crouched down and talking to a small boy that was staring back excitedly with a big smile on face. You reached out and ruffled his dark hair before he ran off again, running towards the jungle gym. You straightened back up and shook your head fondly. But then - then - the real surprise came…in the form of himself. 

Alternate universe Miguel walked up to you and threw an arm around your shoulders as you shook on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. No fucking way. His breath hitched in his throat as he continued to watch the two of you, attempting to process what in the actual hell was happening. That’s when he noticed the bands on both of your fingers and the fact that the small boy you had been talking to looked suspiciously like a combination of both of you.

“No way,” the actual Miguel ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, “there’s no way.”

But…this was a different reality and he knew, maybe better than anybody, that anything was possible. He hung his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose; he was here for a reason, for a job, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted, and potentially ruin any canon events. He could feel the pull of curiosity getting the better of him; this was definitely not a reality that was any of his bingo cards. 

Really though, it should have been. Just because you believed he was an asshole, and let’s be honest he was, didn’t mean that he didn’t care about you. He probably cared too much  if he was being honest, which had led to him being overprotective of you and then…led to the current situation at hand. But you had fallen into the belief that he hated you and then you started to hate him and…yeah. Things were a mess essentially, but he could at least rest easier knowing that you were safe. 

He was going to turn around and complete what he was supposed to, really he was, but Miguel also knew that if you fell out of his view he’d probably never mind you again. And he had to know the current state of affairs between the two of you was. 

With a heavy huff, he camouflaged himself and hopped into a tree closer to the two of you. It wasn’t spying or anything…it was just gathering some intel. Sure, yeah, that’s what he was going to go with.

“Did you get everything for dinner, amor?” you raised an eyebrow and looked at him curiously (he’d been on the receiving end of that look so many times), “and don’t even bother lying to me.”

“Of course I did,” Miguel knew that he was lying. He knew himself well enough.

“Miguel,” you huffed and he groaned lightly, “you didn’t get anything yet, did you?”

“I haven’t gotten anything,” he admitted and Miguel couldn’t help but laugh at himself, “I’m sorry, amor! I got so busy and I had Diego and…yeah.”

“Yeah?” your hands settled on your waist as you sighed heavily, but with nothing short of fondness. You reached over and patted his cheek gently, “how about I take Diego and then you can go to the store? The big dinner is tomorrow and we need to get started on everything tonight. Think you can handle that, big guy?”

Actual Miguel couldn’t help but laugh at this version; he was whipped for you. The real, or whatever you wanted to call him, wasn’t quite ready to fully admit that just yet. But deep down inside he knew it was true. 

“Okay,” he leaned over and kissed you softly, “whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Smart man,” you beamed at him and he wrapped his arms around your shoulder.

Miguel was watching with wide, curious eyes as the whole thing unwrapped. Eventually the two of you left, the small boy - who he assumed was named Diego - in tow. He wanted to keep following you but he knew that wouldn’t be productive in any sense. Instead he was just feeling all sorts of things.

He was so intent on wanting to learn every little bit of your life in the short time he had; he didn’t even hear Miles pop up behind him. 

“What are you doing?” Miguel startled so harshly that he almost fell out of the tree. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the young spider, “everything alright here?”

“What are you…why - nevermind,” Miguel knew better than to question what Miles was doing there, “don’t sneak up on people like that, Miles.”

“Sorry,” the boy didn’t sound sorry at all, “you’ve been gone for a while and this seemed pretty simple so I wanted to make sure that nothing had gone wrong.”

“It’s fine,” Miguel hissed and looked around surreptitiously to make sure you and this Miguel had disappeared from view, “I just got a little…distracted.”

“Distracted?” Miles repeated. That was odd…Miguel was always all business and no play. Something was definitely going on, “are you sure you’re alright?”

When Miguel didn’t respond Miles looked around to see what could have gotten the man so distracted. He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and wasn’t able to draw any meaningful conclusions. Miguel turned to the younger boy with reddened cheeks and wild eyes, “yes. Now go back and focus on your jobs. I’ll be back soon.”

“If you’re-”

“Positive,” Miguel narrowed his eyes in a glare, “just let me do my work.”

“Okay…” Miles didn’t want to go, but Miguel already seemed annoyed and he wasn’t going to push the issue, “see you later.”

“Goodbye Miles,” he watched him pointedly until Miles left again. Once the boy was gone, he groaned loudly and smacked his head against the tree. 

The worst part of all was that Miguel had now lost track of you. He huffed heavily…it looked like his personal espionage quest was finished for now. 

Even if he never saw you again, at least he would always have this memory of you. 

He just hoped that the you back in your world was willing to talk to him, despite how awful he had been. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What are you doing here?” your entire face fell as you looked at Miguel standing on your doorstep. You sighed heavily, and without waiting for an answer, started to close the door, but Miguel stopped you by lodging his foot in the door, “Miguel.”

“Don’t go,” he barked out, surprising both of you. His face warmed up as you opened and closed your mouth a few times. Your frown quickly returned and you crossed your arms over his chest, “I mean don’t…please don’t leave the team.”

“Give me one good reason,” you waited for an answer, but instead you were met with silence. You could tell that he was struggling with trying to say something but still you didn’t receive an answer. Scoffing, you tried to push him, “exactly. You don’t need me. Goodbye.”

“I don’t want you to go!” that caused you to stop in your tracks as your mouth dropped open. Miguel groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face at the sudden and seemingly unexpected confession. He waited for you to yell at him or something - anything. But instead you studied him intently. 

“Say it again,” your voice was less confident than you’d intended. You cringed internally but the expression on Miguel’s face made you feel slightly less awkward, “please?”

“I don’t want you to go,” he repeated softly, a small little half smile pulling up the corners of his mouth, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a nervous laugh, “you are Miguel.”

“And I’m sorry,” you hadn’t been expecting his first confession, and you definitely hadn’t been expecting an apology. Maybe you’d fallen into the wrong universe without knowing it, “so…yeah.”

“Are you going to kiss me or…?” you knew there was still a lot to go over but right now you really wanted this. You’d both been dancing around this for far too long. 

His hands found your face and he kissed you without hesitation. Apparently that was all he needed in order to finally make his move. It was almost embarrassing how often he thought about and wanted this. You hesitated for a moment before kissing him back and jumping into his arms, eager to have him all over you. 

He kissed like he did everything else - with purpose and his whole heart in it. It didn’t even phase you that you were making out in the middle of the hallway of your apartment building. Neither of you pulled apart until you were desperate for a breath of air. 

Miguel set you back down and the two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what exactly to say. He hadn’t thought this far - he definitely hadn’t thought he’d get to this point. 

“What changed your mind?” you asked quietly and his eyes widened in surprise at your question. Not that it was a weird question. 

“I’m not sure you’d believe it,” you couldn’t help but laugh at that before gesturing around and between yourselves.

“Miguel,” you dropped your voice so only the two of you could hear, “we have spider abilities and can travel between different universes. What could possibly that’s so crazy and I wouldn’t believe it?”

“You sure you want to hear it?”

“Duh.”

“That job I went on,” you huffed slightly because it was that very job that he’d forbidden you from going on, “I saw something.”

“Let me guess,” you had to hold back your giggles as you figured out exactly where this was going, “you found us and we happened to be married. Maybe with a kid?”

“H-how did you know?!”

“Because,” you opened the door and gestured for him to follow you inside, “in almost every universe I’ve gone to where we’re there we’ve been…together.”

“Oh,” his cheeks turned red as closed the door and leaned against it, “oh.”

“Oh,” you teased in return, “I wondered if you’d ever notice. You know what that means, right?”

“What does it mean?”

“I think it means you should kiss me,” there was a coquettish look on your face as he swallowed thickly, “unless you don’t want to?”

“I want to,” he stepped closer to you as you smiled up at him, “I really want to.”

“So do it.”

[literallythegrabber]

TBP characters x somehow famous reader ? ( It's up to you how ) thank you for reading my request 👍

so I wasn't sure whether or not you wanted the cast or the characters themselves, so I just went with cast because it made more sense.

If you wanted characters I can redo it! 💗💗 (this looks way longer than it actually is btw)

Mason

he definitely stalks you

like not in a creepy way, he's just always on your social platforms, literally waiting for you to post.

he's totally your biggest fan, and will literally attempt to fight all of your haters.

Before your relationship, I feel like he was very nervous to talk to you.

Like if you two were ever at a screening together, or a fancy event back when TBP was popular, this man would legit stare you down from across the room. Then proceed to duck under a table if you catch him staring.

But during your relationship he would be way more relaxed and confident.

He would be chill about pda and taking you on dates in public, but your fanbase would be doing cartwheels, cause everybody ships yall.

Miguel

He's so obvious about his crush on you that it's hilarious.

If you seen those lives where he's just reading comments, then one mentions your name. He's gonna ramble on about you for the rest of the live.

WILL NOT SHUT UP ABOUT YOU, and his friends are tired of it tbh.

bro literally forgets he's famous too and turns into the ultimate fangirl.

But during your relationship he's so sweet.

Always wanting to hangout with you, taking you out in public almost every day.

If yall ever broke up, yalls fans would explode.

They be acting like yalls children with how lovey dovey yall are.

Brady

I feel like he'd try to hide it.

Like he's not in denial, but he don't want nobody knowing about his crush on you.

"conceal, don't let it feel" he's literally elsa.

He kinda keeps to himself around you, in public and all that.

He wouldn't want to overwhelm you, especially with how the media reacts when two popular human beings get together.

So you'd def have to approach him and ask for a date.

During your relationship, he would thaw the ice a bit.

You'd have to reassure him of your relationship a lot.

He just wants you to be comfortable. Lazy nights at home, introverted hangouts, cooking together.

Pretty chill.

Tristan

literally the opposite of brady.

IS YOUR BIGGEST FAN AND DOESN'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT.

He's definitely trying to rizz you up at a fancy event, and you're just like 😐

Like whispering random shit in your ear, trying to make you blush, posing with you at every opportunity.

Kinda annoying tbh

But if you give him a chance he'll tone it down. He'll start be more genuine and less flirty.

Taking you out to dinner, not wanting to take pictures with fangirls even though you scold him for being rude.

def starts arguments with you for fun. Starting light hearted arguments with you for fun.

this mf is still annoying.

but overall very cute.

Jacob

He's honestly pretty chill about you.

He just casually approaches you strikes up conversation.

In the middle of an interview? "These lights are bright, am I right y/n?" Talking with a fan? "Y/n, don't you have that same shirt?" Signing an autograph? "Do you think aliens are real?"

like shut up 😭

He really just enjoys talking to you, hearing your voice is the highlight of his day.

Yall would ease into a comfortable friendship before he ask you out.

From there on its late night ft calls, stealing each other's clothes, and going on casual excursions.

def the easiest to date.

Madeleine

She's so funny.

Either confesses right off the bat, or confirms you're hers after yall lock eyes.

kinda reminds me of that one audio, YOU ARE MINE, YOU ARE MINE.

Yall could be talking about pregnant hyenas, and she'll randomly be like, "I love you".

like girl what?

During your relationship she would be super cute.

Yall always out together. You can never catch her inside for more than 10 minutes.

Mason be feeling like a third wheel every time yall three are in the same room.

Yall just in the corner flirting and mason's just sitting there like 😐.

def your hype girl, yall always turning up.

srry, this was so long 💗💗

[lordsukunas]

songs made by black artists that i think would suit jjk characters. oh my god this took forever to format n link songs. anyway, happy black history month yall!!!! i hope yall like this bc im sick of seeing taylor swift pop up in the list of artists gojo would listen to <33

gojo – starboy the weeknd, daft punk + ghost town kanye west, partynextdoor

for starboy it just gave im that nigga vibes, and for ghost town it's just the entire ‘i alone am the honored one’ scene. but mayb it could also be applicable to current gojo? idk.

geto – like a tattoo sade

fun fact: this is actually the inspo for my user!! the whole ‘broken by the burden of his youth’ and ‘hungry for life, thirsty for the distant river’ reminds me of his whole reason for defecting. he's hungry for life (wanting sorcerers to not have to risk their life to protect non-sorcerers & actually live a long, fulfilling life) and thirsty for the distant river (remember when they kept with the race/hallway analogy? yeah, and geto's goal was always going to be unattainable for him simply bc he didn't have the strength)

yuuji – adorn miguel + crooked smile j. cole, tlc

UGGHHH he's just so lovely. the most supportive boy ever i love my son sm, and that is my only justification for my song choices.

megumi – alone willow + nineteen pinkpanthress + answer tyler, the creator

tbh… idk bros been goin thru it this entire series, but esp recently. for answer, i rlly liked the first couple of verses (idk what to actually call it, but it's before the first chorus) bc it aligns well w papaguro n megumi. ig the stepdad could be gojo…?

nobara – no scrubs tlc + conceited flo milli + apeshit the carters + on my mama victoria monét

she takes nobody's bs n i love that for her!!! i feel like she'd absolutely love flo milli + megan thee stallion.

nanami – lotus flower bomb wale, miguel + i love you more than you know black party, childish gambino

sorry i rlly like him y'all... there's no angsty reason for these songs! n for i luv u more than yk, it's just nanami if/when he goes to malaysia :3

choso – do you like me? daniel caesar

i actually dk for this one... i just thought it suited him! yk since he wants to live as a human n when he loves he loves hard (shown by how determined he is to be the best older brother to his lil siblings)

toji – she will lil wayne, drake + foe tha love of $ bone thugs-n-harmony, eazy-e + crack rock frank ocean

i am a firm believer toji would like 90s + early 2000s rap. it just makes sense idk, also i once saw a post that said he died just a bit b4 no hands by waka flocka came out and... hey! for crack rock, it's just post-mamaguro him n instead of crack, it's his gambling addiction

sukuna – hater's anthem infinity song + hit ‘em up 2pac, outlawz + king’s dead jay rock, kendrick lamar, future, james blake + unbothered ski mask the slump god

he's a hater just for my son. bum ass nigga... and for hit em up: ‘don't one of u niggas got sickle cell or sumn? u fuck around n have a seizure or a heart attack’

maki & toji – worst behavior drake

self explanatory! them n their rebellion against the zenin clan <3

gojo & geto – oui jeremih

cause if weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! sorry but this is fueled by geto saying ‘we are the strongest’... thats it :p