#i can play the instrumental parts in my head at will and i can't do instrumentals at all i'm a lyrics girl 100%

[rusalkaandtheshepherdgirl]

i can't keep living like this i really really need to be able to eat rusalka and the shepherd girl

[incorrectbatfam]

It's movie night but they can't use the home cinema, what do they do?

[week 1]

Bruce: Thanks for letting us use your place for movie night while we fix that leak at home.

Dick: No problem. Besides, I have plenty of snacks and the director's cut of Dumbo.

Everyone: *gathers around*

Dick: *puts on the movie*

~ 10 minutes in ~

*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*

Tim: My crime alert's going off.

Harper: Mine too.

Duke: Must be big.

Bruce: Suit up and rendezvous in three.

Dick: *sighs and pauses the movie*

Dick: Can't get one night in this damn city.

———————

[week 2]

Tim: Steph, why are we at a karaoke lounge?

Steph: I know the owner's cousin's hairdresser's dog walker's sister's girlfriend and I convinced them to let us use the party room. Don't worry, it's just like a TV screen.

Steph: *puts on Pitch Perfect*

Steph: Ooh, I love this part.

Steph: *grabs a mic and starts singing*

Everyone:

Damian: *stuffs napkins in his ears*

———————

[week 3]

Jason: Since we decided on Pride and Prejudice, I thought I could play it at my safehouse.

Dick: Sweet, thanks!

Jason: *unlocks the door*

Dick: *tries to step in*

Jason: *stops him*

Jason: I said I could play it. I never said you could come in. I don't want your you-ness all over my new stuff.

Bruce: Jason, be reasonable.

Harper: Yeah, you got this junk off the side of the road.

Jason: My junk, my rules.

Tim: Then what are we supposed to do?

Jason: Fire escape's around the back. You'll get a decent glance.

~ 20 minutes later ~

Dick: *leans his head in to hear better*

Jason: My air, my rules.

Jason: *closes the window*

———————

[week 4]

Bruce: Cass, it's your turn. Got the movie?

Cass: *nods and plays Rambo on her computer*

Barbara: Uh, why isn't there any sound?

Cass: Volume button broke. Just read lips.

Jason: Kinda hard to do that with the brightness at zero. Did that stop working too?

Duke: Looks fine to me.

Jason: Shut up, Flashlight.

———————

[week 5]

Tim: I brought my entire Star Wars collection.

Bruce, dodging a space laser: Not the time.

Tim: Okay.

Bruce: *punches an alien robot*

Tim: How about now?

———————

[week 6]

Barbara: Sorry I got a cold, but at least we can still have movie night on Zoom. I torrented a copy of The Matrix.

Barbara: *shares her screen*

*movie plays*

Barbara: *leaves herself unmuted*

Barbara: *starts crinkling Sun Chips*

———————

[week 7]

Everyone: *crowd around Damian's phone watching My Neighbor Totoro*

Bette: Why is your phone so small?

Damian: I have tiny hands.

———————

[week 8]

Harper: Because we're watching Cars this week, I thought I could put together an all-immersive experience.

Bruce: BY LOCKING US IN A RUNAWAY SEMI-TRUCK?!?

———————

[week 9]

Duke: I called this company and since we're heroes, they're letting us use their electronic billboard for this week's movie at a huge discount. Kill Bill should be coming on right about...

*movie starts playing*

Jason: Not bad, Narrows.

*billboard switches to an ad*

———————

[week 10]

Carrie: Since Steamboat Willie is now public domain, I thought we could do something different tonight.

Carrie: *pulls out a flipbook*

———————

[week 11]

Everyone: *watching Love, Simon in a dark living room*

*lights flick on*

Apollo and Midnighter: *standing there in date night outfits*

Steph: Um, Cullen, who are these guys?

Cullen: *laughs nervously*

Cullen: Everyone, meet Apollo and Midnighter. They're kinda-sorta my gay uncles and we're kinda-sorta in their apartment and I kinda-sorta didn't expect them to come back early.

Midnighter: Remind me why we gave you a spare key?

———————

[week 12]

Kate: *sets up a projector and plays Glass Onion*

Bruce: Kate, this is a crime scene.

Kate: The fun part's already done, let Gordon do cleanup this time.

———————

[week 13]

Alfred: Back in my day, we did not rely on scrupulous use of technology. Which is why I propose watching a classic Sherlock Holmes tale on a classic instrument.

Alfred: *pulls out a zoetrope*

Steph: Anyone know what that is?

Dick: Not a clue.

———————

[week 14]

Luke: Nothing like a good ol' drive-in movie. Great idea, Helena.

Helena: I know, and the Godfather is perfect for this.

*Batmobile crashes through the screen*

Steph: Sorry we're late.

Duke: I'm still figuring out the PRINDL.

———————

[week 15]

*TV playing the Aristocats*

Bruce, trying to flirt: I like what you've done with the curtains.

Selina: Thanks, but it was Snowball's after-dinner surprise.

*TV blinks off*

Tim: Hey, what gives?

Selina: *takes a chewed-up cord out of a cat's mouth*

Selina, sighing: This is why I married rich.

———————

[week 16]

Luke: May I present the ultimate Snakes On A Plane drone show!

*phone rings*

Luke: Hello? ... Yes, this is he. ... Mhm. ... Yep. ... Okay.

Luke: Never mind, the FAA says I can't.

———————

[week 17]

Everyone: *watching Legally Blonde at Bette's place*

*dogs barking*

*sirens*

*loud music*

*car honk*

*neighbors shouting*

Bette: Sorry, we have thin walls.

Bruce, shrugging: Eh, still not as bad as HOA.

———————

[week 18]

Damian: Where is movie night this time, Father?

Barbara: My money's on another crime scene.

Bruce: Actually, I rented out the theater just for us and they're playing a special edition of The Mark of Zorro. Everyone got their snacks?

Duke: Popcorn, check.

Cass: Licorice, check.

Steph: M&Ms are obviously the right answer by the way.

Dick: I got a slushee.

Jason: I got the slushee machine.

Bruce: Alright then, take your seats. The movie's about to begin.

*movie plays*

*Rogues break in, make a mess, and leave*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: I miss my parents.

[mellosdrawings]

Ok, originally I didn't want to do Twst OCs that weren't based on actual Disney characters, but I broke my one rule because @marigoldendragon triple dog dared me to do an octopus OC. Which I failed, because I did a jellyfish one instead :'D

(Just... pretend he's one of those random jellyfish from that one scene in Finding Nemo)

So yeah, here's my new Ignihyde OC I guess.

Noah Jackson

18 years old, 3rd year

Ignihyde

From the Coral Sea, jellyfish merman

He/Him though he doesn't mind any other pronouns

Signature Spell: Go With the Flow

-Basically an anti gravity spell that allows him or whoever he touches to move through the air the same way he does under water

-The tiniest gust of wind can make him float away

-If he uses it right before he gets knocked out by a spell he just flies away like a balloon with only minimal damages

-While he can stir himself through the air, the people that get affected by his spell generally can't. Only some merfolk manage to adjust and swim through the air

-It also works on objects. His own room is constantly under the spell while he's inside so he can emulate his own home

No heart, no brain, only vibes.

Noah is not the brightest and he knows it. His motto is to just "go with the flow". Whatever is funniest gets his attention, but he never goes out of his way to actually catch it. He just ~vibes~. Whatever happens happens. Good stuff? Great, let's have some fun! Bad stuff? Oh well, let's just wait for it to pass.

Nothing has weight for him. While it means he doesn't get hurt much in life because he just doesn't care, it can be a huge drag for the people around him.

Random facts:

-Noah is based on the Sea Nettle jellyfish. While his sting isn't necessarily deadly, he certainly can hurt others.

-He is only 1.56 meters tall.

-He is genuinely blind but he manages to get around by sensing light and magic. He still regularly sticks to someone and "goes with the flow" of the crowd.

-While very confused about getting sorted into Ignihyde, he immediately got into it because of the lights. He's surprisingly efficient at technomancy and uses speech-to-text to write his homeworks.

-He's pretty sensitive to waves so his dormmates often come to him when they are in search of the best spot to receive Wi-Fi.

-Noah always moves his arms around. His head too, to make his hair flow, which is a problem since his hair have the same toxic properties as his tentacles.

-His stamina is terrible and he has no strength whatsoever.

-He bargained with Sam to get a skirt because pants are too restrictive for him. He doesn't like his Dorm Uniform at all.

-He loses stuff. A LOT!

-His best subject is Flight.

-He's part of the Pop Music club but he has completely forgotten about it. He plays wind instruments, mostly ocarina or pan flute, but he also loves instruments that are bigger than he is.

(Jellyfish pic source)

(@marigoldendragon The drawings with Lachlan will be posted tomorrow, promise!)

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

The Words Hung Above But Never Would Form

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: let's see fingering, handjobs, riding, marking/Loki with a pain kink- unprotected sex (wrap it or don’t tap it) I think that's it idk

Genre: smut, fluff

Summary: You thought you and Loki wouldn't be more than a casual thing, but there's a reason they say never say never

I couldn't Utter my love when it counted // Ah but I'm singing like a bird to ya now ~ Shrike by Hozier

***

Your relationship with Loki isn't complicated. You call and he comes and- then you cum, all night, usually. It's a simple arrangement, because Loki's incredible in bed, and it's easier than anything you would've asked for from him. You'll admit there was a time you wanted more, but- never mind, there's no need to dwell on that. What you have now is good. It works. The knock on your door comes at exactly 9 o'clock p.m. It's funny, Loki's commitment to punctuality, even for something as low stakes as breaking your back a few times a week. You smile to yourself as you cross your apartment to open the door.

"Hello darling." Loki smirks, his eyes gliding over you.

"Hi Loki, how've you been?" You ask stepping aside to let him into your apartment.

"Busy. I don't know why I thought joining those ridiculous Avengers would be tolerable." Loki rolls his eyes as he drops onto your couch.

"Because it was that or being an intergalactic war criminal?" You remind him, climbing into his lap.

"I'm starting to think I'd be better off never being allowed to return to Midgard." He scoffs and you giggle.

"Oh relax, they can't be that bad, you guys save the world or whatever." You run your fingers through his hair and shower him with quick kisses against his lips.

"You can say that, you've never had to work with them." He mutters between your kisses.

"You're such a baby." You laugh.

"Shut up." He frowns.

"I will if you kiss me." You smirk.

"You-" Loki stops himself as if he didn't quite process your request right away. His hand comes around the back of your neck and he pulls you down for a proper kiss. You moan and Loki uses the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. He explores your mouth as he always does, the feeling so familiar yet still as thrilling as the first. It doesn't take long for his mouth to part from yours, traveling down your throat. He nips and sucks at the exposed skin as nimble fingers undo the buttons on your shirt. One of Loki's hands settles against your back as he lowers his head to take an achy nipple between his lips—your back arches against his mouth as he teases the bud with his tongue and teeth. You hardly realize your hips grinding against him until he growls lowly at the friction. Loki's other hand slides across your waist to dip beneath your shorts. Two digits plunge into your already dripping center and his thumb lightly strokes your clit, reveling in the breathy moans coming from you at his hands. He toys with your body like an instrument he's played all his life, a smirk plastered on his face as you grind against his fingers desperately. Quickly, frantically, you undo his pants, pulling his erection out and stroking him.

Loki momentarily loses his rhythm when you touch him and you take advantage of the moment's reprieve to shimmy out of your shorts. It's a bit awkward to do with his dick in your hand admittedly but you manage- although Loki makes it no easier, staring at you as he sucks his fingers clean of your juices. Distracting man. Freed from the barrier of clothing between you, you line him up with your entrance and sink down with a satisfied hum while Loki tosses his head back with a groan. You ride him eagerly, relishing in the drag of him against your walls, the feel of his hands squeezing your hips, the quiet cacophony of grunts and moans leaving his lips. You pull his shirt over his head exposing his pale, sculpted chest to your gaze, but more importantly your hands. He never says anything about it but you know for a fact Loki always cums harder when you mark his skin with evidence of your little trysts. You drag your nails along his body, harsh enough to see the red trails left in your wake, and hear the way Loki's breathing changes at the action. 

Loki, just as in tune with your body as you are with his, watches for the moment signs of an impending orgasm start to reveal themselves before his hand slips between you two, fingers finding your clit again. Your hips stutter for a moment at the stimulation but you only ride him harder as he rubs your bundle of nerves. Loki can feel the moment you tighten against him and with his free hand, he takes over rocking your hips against his as the waves of your orgasm make it impossible to keep pace. He allows you to ride it out before he flips you on your back rutting into you, chasing his own orgasm. When his muscles tense up and his grip on your hips tightens you drag your nails down his back, the groan he releases deep and long as he spills into you. You bask in the afters of your orgasms for several minutes before eventually, you tap his shoulder needing to get up.

"Well this has been fun, as always." You say stretching as he sits up.

"Kicking me out already darling?" He smirks.

"No, you're welcome to hang around but I have to shower." You shrug standing.

"Shall I join you?"

"If you do that I'll need a shower from the shower." You kiss him quickly.

"Seems fine to me."

"Of course it does." You roll your eyes. "Oh I have a date on Saturday so I'll have to let you know if you're still coming over that night." You tell him while you remember.

"A date?" He blinks at you.

"Yes, a date."

"With who?"

"Just a guy I met at a coffee shop." You shrug.

"You never mentioned a guy at a coffee shop." Loki tries to keep his tone light though he's not sure how successful he is.

"I'm mentioning him now. No biggie. Anyway, if you're sticking around I made stir fry- help yourself."

"I'd love to but I actually have something to do at the tower so I have to head back but enjoy your evening, have fun on your date, and maybe see you Saturday." Loki is quick to tug his shirt back over his head and tuck himself into his pants.

"Alright have a good-" Loki's out the door before you can finish your sentence, "night?" You frown to yourself for a moment but don't let yourself dwell on it. He said he had something to do, maybe it was important. No need to assume anything more.

The next few days you're pretty giddy thinking about your date on Saturday with the cute guy from the coffee shop. By the time Saturday rolls around and you're meeting up with Marcus you've barely managed to get your excitement under control. The date is as fun as you could've hoped, you go to a  jazz bar and spend the night giggling over drinks and food while lovely music acts as a soundtrack for your evening. You're even humming to yourself as you walk home from how much you enjoyed the evening.

Back in your apartment you take a shower and get ready for bed with a smile still on your face. Marcus has already suggested going on another date and you're not exactly against the idea of seeing him again. 

It's the next morning, when you're making breakfast that the calm before the storm ends. Your back is turned so you don't notice Loki appear in your apartment until he speaks.

"You know normally I wouldn't care if you left me hanging- but seeing as you went out with a stranger it would've been nice to know if you were alive." Loki's voice makes you jump and almost throw your spatula.

"Christ- Loki we've talked about that. Don't appear in my apartment without warning!" You scold him with an eye roll.

"You're avoiding the subject."

"I'm not. I just don't appreciate being jump scared in my own apartment. Especially not at 11 am on a Sunday. But on the subject, I didn't realize you worried so much about me, I'd have shot you a text when I came in." You shrug.

"Y/n." Loki sighs.

"Is something the matter Loki? Avengers getting under your skin again?" You chuckle.

"What?"

"You seem grumbly this morning. Something get to you before you came here?" You ask.

"I'm not grumbly. You're just- excited. What's with that anyway?"

"Dude- you poofed in here talking about the reason I'm excited. What?"

"All this over some guy?" Loki scoffs.

"He's a very sweet guy thank you very much." You stick your tongue out.

"Oh please." He rolls his eyes.

"If you're just going to be a downer Loki go back to the tower, you're not about to ruin my good mood."

"I'm not being a downer, I'm simply here to remind you not to be impressed by little shit. Him having manners shouldn't make you this giddy." He says.

"I didn't say anything about manners. And besides what would you know? it's not like you're trying to impress me." You let out a half laugh as you speak. Loki pauses for a moment, his brow furrowing as he looks at you.

"Is that what you want from me?"

"No? I mean- that's not what I was implying." You say.

"What are you implying?"

"That you don't have a leg to stand on in the dating conversation, it's not exactly your area of expertise." You shrug.

"I guarantee anything that coffee shop boy did on your little date I can do a hundred times better." Loki scoffs.

"Yeah right." You roll your eyes.

"I'm a god y/n, don't tell me you think I'm at all as mediocre as your mortal men in any capacity."

"I didn't say that."

"Yeah there's a lot you don't say it seems." He crosses his arms.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You frown at him.

"You may not admit it but you're comparing me to your coffee shop boy. It's a battle he'll lose in the end but I'm sure you'll hold out as long as you can."

"Loki we fuck a couple times a week. There's really no reason to compare you two. You're categorized differently." You shrug.

"Categorized differently?" He quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah. He wants to date me. You- don't. So, no need to think about you versus each other."

"You have no- You don't even know this guy."

"You are very much missing the point." You shake your head.

"You are the one missing the point."

"Oh am I? And what point might that be Loki?" You smirk, leaning against your counter with your arms crossed.

"Gods you are so stubborn." Loki huffs out crossing your apartment. Loki's hand cups the side of your face and kisses you fiercely. It's like second nature to you, the way you react immediately, matching him each moment. When he pulls away he doesn't step back, still so close you can feel his breath against your lips.

"You're- a strange being Loki." You say softly.

"It's you that makes me this way."

"I haven't done anything." You say with a slight shake of your head.

"You've gone on a date." He says.

"Well yeah but that has nothing to do with-"

"Y/n." He cuts you off.

"Loki." You say back.

"I love you."

"You what?" You blink at him, so shocked you lean back to look at him better.

"I love you." He says again.

"When did that- what?"

"I love you."

"No, I don't think you do." You shake your head.

"I do. Y/n I do and I may not have said it before but I'm saying it now. Please don't tell me it's too late." His eyes search yours, for what you're not sure.

"Too late?" You frown.

"Your coffee shop guy. I can't lose you to him."

"I don't understand- how long have you felt this way?" You ask.

"Too long."

"Then why not say anything before today?"

"I couldn't, I couldn't when it counted, but I'm saying it now. And I'm hoping I haven't waited too long because- I cannot imagine staying on this dreadful planet without being able to see you, to hold you, to call you mine- like a shrike to your glorious thorn, I cannot survive without you."

"That's rather poetic of you to say." You say carefully.

"It's true."

"I- your timing is- what am I going to do with you?" You shake your head.

"You said dating is 'not my area of expertise', allow me to show you how very false that is."

"Are you asking me on a date Loki?" You smile.

"I'd like to ask for more than that but we can begin there, sure."

"I'm not opposed." You say.

"Very well, enjoy your breakfast. I'll be back this evening to take you out." Loki finally steps back, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"That will be a surprise."

"Well, what should I wear?"

"Whatever you like. You'll look amazing in anything." Loki smirks.

"That's not enough infor-" before you can finish Loki disappears in a flourish of green sparkles. "-mation." You say to the empty air. "Nice. Guess I'll wing it." You mutter to yourself. You can't even manage to be fake mad at him for more than a moment, the possibilities for your upcoming night out filling you with delight as you make breakfast. So, maybe you do want more from him, since that's a possibility now.

***

[transform4u]

I’m about to start college in the fall and I’m staying in the dorms. The worst part is that I’m nerdy, gay, and really shy, but I just met my new roommate and he’s your typical Republican, football-playing fuckboy. I could already tell he’s judging me hard. What do I do?

As you tear open the envelope from your college, your anticipation is a swirl of excitement and dread. You were supposed to dive into the world of English literature and feminist theory, but instead, your eyes skim over the schedule and land on the absurdity of "American Exceptionalism 101" at noon on MWF. Your head throbs as if an invisible hand is squeezing your brain into a smaller, less enlightened shape. It's like someone has taken a red-hot poker and jabbed it straight into your heart, twisting it until every ounce of your academic enthusiasm and commitment to social justice evaporates.

In its place, a new, alien mindset begins to take root. You find your once-vibrant appetite for critical thinking dwindling into a blustery haze of national pride and simplistic notions of greatness. Your consciousness warps, and before you know it, you're morphing into the very embodiment of the obnoxious Republican frat bro—a brash caricature of entitlement and limited worldview. Your intellect, once sharp and inquisitive, dulls into a blunt instrument of cliché-ridden banter and boisterous bravado. You proudly declare that “common sense” is all you need, dismissing complex social issues with a cavalier shrug and an overstuffed ego that clings to traditional values with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Politically, you’re a crusader for conservative causes, but your arguments are as deep as a kiddie pool and just as uninspiring. You spout off right-wing rhetoric with the fervor of a zealot, your debates more about scoring rhetorical points than engaging in meaningful discussion. The broader implications of your views—what they mean for marginalized communities or for nuanced understanding—are beyond your narrowed gaze. Your new persona is an obnoxious testament to the virtues of self-importance, oversimplification, and a relentless need to project an image of success and superiority, all while reveling in a blissful ignorance of any perspective that might challenge your bubble of certainty.

As you scroll through social media, you can't help but notice how your humor has changed. It used to be sharp and insightful, cutting through the noise with wit and cleverness. Now, it relies on crude stereotypes and inside jokes that only a select few understand. You find yourself trapped in a self-congratulatory echo chamber where everyone laughs at the same things because they're "in" on the joke.

The right-wing rhetoric flows from your fingers like second nature now - it's all you know how to do anymore after spending so much time surrounded by it online. You see conspiracies everywhere and can easily spot "liberal bias" even when there isn't any present; everything is filtered through this lens which leaves little room for nuance or complexity in thought or discourse anymore for both sides of any debate whatsoever.. This simplistic worldview is not only limiting but also exhausting because everything boils down into binary oppositions: us vs them; good vs evil; right vs wrong.

As you pull out your phone and begin to type a tweet for your followers, crude and rude thoughts start swirling in your head. You think about how much better you are than everyone else because of your right-wing beliefs. You imagine all the liberals who disagree with you as stupid sheep who can't see the truth. You chuckle to yourself at how easy it is to troll them online with memes and insults.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as these thoughts turn into words on screen: "Libtards are so triggered by facts! Keep crying snowflakes, we'll keep winning!" With a sense of satisfaction, you hit send and wait for the likes and retweets to roll in - proof that there are others out there who share your twisted worldview.

As you glance down at the absurdity of your new schedule, specifically the "Introduction to Sports Management and Fantasy Football" class, a strange, electrifying energy courses through you. It’s like a jolt of vitality has surged into every fiber of your being. Your once meek, unremarkable physique starts to react to this new direction, morphing into something sculpted and potent.

You can feel it in your abs first: the slight tremor as each muscle begins to tighten and firm up, evolving from a soft, unremarkable layer into a six-pack of steel. Each ripple of your abdominal muscles pulses with an almost tangible intensity, as if they are imbued with newfound power and purpose. Your biceps and triceps, once unassuming, now swell and harden, their contours more pronounced with each passing second, like sculpted marble coming to life. They burn with a satisfying ache, a reminder of the strength and endurance you are cultivating.

Your quads and pecs are not left out of this transformation. Your legs throb with a deep, primal energy as they grow more powerful, their definition sharpening into formidable muscle groups that flex with every movement. Your chest, once flat and average, now pushes forward with a proud, chiseled prominence, a tribute to countless hours of physical exertion and dedication.

Your reflection in the mirror reveals a new you—an embodiment of the ultimate football-playing bro. Your physique is now a masterpiece of athletic prowess: broad, powerful shoulders and a chest that speaks of relentless gym sessions. Your abs are a flawless six-pack, every flex a testament to your commitment. Your legs, strong and sculpted, support a presence that oozes both confidence and capability.

Your face, framed by a rugged jawline and a hint of stubble, reflects the charm and self-assurance of someone who is as comfortable on the field as he is off it. Your eyes, whether a sparkling blue or deep brown, are framed by meticulously groomed eyebrows and a tousled mop of hair—short on the sides, longer on top, and styled with effortless precision. Your smile is wide, dazzling, and exudes a blend of charm and cheekiness that suggests you’re not just about physical prowess but also a charismatic personality.

Your wardrobe shifts to match this new persona. You sport snug polo shirts in vibrant colors or classic athletic gear that accentuates your toned form. Distressed jeans fit like a second skin, paired with immaculate sneakers that declare your trendiness. On game days, you don a jersey or hoodie emblazoned with your team’s logo, completing the look with a relaxed, oversized hoodie that speaks to your allegiance and laid-back style. Whether you’re on the field or at a social gathering, your appearance radiates a potent mix of confidence, style, and effortless cool—a football-playing fuckboy who has truly embraced his new identity. As you glance down at your class schedule, your eyes immediately zero in on the last class of the semester: "Weekend Party Planning and Execution of the Woke Agenda." You can't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. However, as you continue to stare at it, something strange happens. A cruel twisted grin forms on your face, and you suddenly feel an immense heat in your brain. Your thoughts begin to race as images of hot chicks fill your mind. At first, it's just a passing thought – like beating up some loser fags for fun – but then it starts to make sense somehow. You blink twice and find yourself sitting upright in bed with a hard-on that won't go away no matter how much you try to think about anything else!

You glance back at the schedule, desperately trying to process the absurdity of "Media Influence and Pop Culture" slotted for 3:00 PM. The wave of confusion hits you again, making your head spin as you grapple with the chaotic divergence from your original academic path. Just then, you hear a deep, gruff voice from across the room.

"Yo Jackson…you there?"

You turn to see your roommate Zeke, an absolute caricature of a neanderthal-looking meathead. Zeke is the quintessential embodiment of a gym-buffed jock, with bulging biceps and a chest so broad it almost spills out of his too-tight tank top. His face is a rugged mess of stubble and squinty eyes, and his hair is a mop of thick, unruly curls that looks like it’s never seen a comb. He’s sprawled on his bed, surrounded by a heap of sports gear and empty protein shake bottles, his demeanor a mix of lazy arrogance and casual dominance.

Your dorm room is the epitome of a Republican, football-playing bro's domain. The walls are adorned with posters of muscle-bound athletes and American flags, while the floor is littered with discarded gym clothes, beer cans fast-food wrappers. A mini fridge, stocked with enough beer and energy drinks to keep a small army fueled, sits next to a worn-out couch that has seen more game days than it probably should. The space is cluttered with an assortment of sports memorabilia, from signed footballs to framed jerseys, and the overall decor screams "Man Cave" with a patriotic twist.

“Sorry bro,” you reply, shaking off the confusion. “Just thinking about this chick Brooke in one of my classes, dude.”

Zeke snorts and gives a hearty, if slightly slurred, laugh. “Haha, you and your cheerleaders, man. You’re going to be repeating sophomore year again, you know?”

“Haha, no worries, school is for losers anyway” you say, punctuating your response with a belch. “BURRRRRP. Hey, we should head out.”

The two of you stumble out of the dorm, your stride filled with a boisterous swagger. The night is young, and you’re both on a mission to score some action. Zeke’s laughter echoes down the hall as he slaps you on the back, a gesture as friendly as it is bone-crushing. You both head towards the nearest bar, your conversation dominated by crude jokes and brash plans for the evening. As you step into the night, the crisp air is filled with the anticipation of adventure, a perfect backdrop for your football-playing fuckboy persona to shine.

The music is blasting, the beer is flowing, and the girls are everywhere. You grab a couple of cold ones and start making your way through the crowd, looking for some hotties to chat up.

As you weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, you spot her - a tall brunette with killer curves and a smile that could light up a room. She's got on this tiny little dress that shows off every inch of her toned body, and she's dancing like there's no tomorrow. You make your move towards her as if it was destiny itself calling out for you to approach her; after all who wouldn't want someone as hot as she is?

"Hey there!" You say with an exaggerated smile plastered across your face."Can I buy ya lady another drink?" Before she can even respond or give any indication whether or not she wants one more round of alcohol down her throat-you go ahead ordering two shots from one of those cute little sorority girls serving drinks at their table near by.

As you hand her the shot glass, she looks at you with those big brown eyes and takes a sip. The alcohol seems to loosen her up even more, and she starts dancing even closer to you. You can't help but stare at her perfect body moving in time with the music - it's like watching an erotic ballet unfold right before your eyes.

"So what brings a guy like you here tonight?" She asks between giggles, leaning in close enough for your nose to brush against hers ever so slightly. You grin widely as if this was some sort of secret conversation only meant for each other's ears only while reaching out grabbing hold of one those large round ass cheeks which seemingly belongs on goddess herself; pulling them closer towards yourself until they are practically pressed against your crotch area where no doubt by now there must be quite an impressive bulge forming due solely from all these thoughts running through your mind about how amazing it would feel having such beauty wrapped around waistline all night long.

"I just couldn't resist coming when I heard there was going be party like this," You reply smoothly without breaking eye contact once throughout entire exchange."Besides who wouldn't want chance spend time someone as beautiful inside out?!"

You continue to talk with the blonde girl, your eyes wandering down to her ample cleavage as she giggles and responds to your questions. She's clearly drunk already, but that only makes her more receptive to your advances.

As you feel her up, your hands squeezing her big tits through the thin fabric of her dress, you descend into the most obnoxious republican fuckboy imaginable. Thoughts of nothing but sex and being a toolbag consume your mind as you take advantage of this drunken mess who can't wait to fuck you.

Without hesitation or remorse, you pull her closer and press your lips against hers in a forceful kiss that leaves no doubt about what's on your mind. She moans softly into mouth while one hand grasps desperately at back of neck needing something solid anchor self during this whirlwind passionate embrace between two strangers who could care less about anything else besides momentary pleasure they derive from each other right now…

"Let's get outta here," You whisper against earlobe nipping gently with teeth just enough send shiver down spine signaling impending climax soon approach if all goes according plan which it will because there are no consequences for actions taken under influence alcohol right? For now though only thing matter is satisfying primal urges buried deep within both our souls calling out loud demand release only way possible given current circumstances - sex!

[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩—bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I'm so so sorry for not being able to keep up with requests that well. My program is taking a lot of my time and beating the shit out of me (esp. u immunology and serology >:c).

Anyways, here's a sort of prequel for my headcanons because band au Mizu is so yummy.

Enjoy! Mwa mwa:*

warning: not proofread, she/her for mizu, will refer to her as a boy (bc she canonically appears like a man), implied afab reader

"But you're so good at playing the guitar, and you have the charisma too. You should definitely join our band. Even our manager is amazing. She—"

"For the last time, Ringo. I don't want to join your stupid band."

Mizu and Ringo were already getting ready to go home after finishing their term-end project for their elective, which just so happened to be music. She didn't really think it through when she enlisted and just picked whichever she thought was the easiest. Ringo, however, just picked the same elective as Mizu.

She carefully placed her electric guitar in its case, zipping it up and securing the locks before slinging it over her shoulder. "I have better things to do and joining a band is a waste of time," she added as she walked up to the door.

Ringo followed after her, a smile still on his face despite the rejection. "You never know. This might even be your calling," he chimed as they exited the room, making her groan out of annoyance. They headed into the parking lot where Mizu's bike was parked. "We have an audition in a week if you want," he said, waiting for his friend to put on her helmet.

Once Mizu was finished putting on her helmet, she hopped on and leaned forward, pushing her weight to retract the center stand. "Not interested," she groaned out, slightly muffled behind her helmet. Her foot kickstarted the bike on before she revved the engine up a bit.

"Well if you decide to change your mind, just send me a message." Ringo stepped back a bit to give Mizu some space to move. She grunted in response and drove forward, leaving her friend waving and shout goodbyes at her.

What's so great about joining a stupid band anyway?

It's probably just filled with pretentious kids pretending to be as good as their idols but can't even memorize which strings their hammer ons should be.

Another groan escaped her lips the more she thought about the offer. It was annoying. Yet, a somehow, a small part of her wanted to play even more. The desire ringing at the back of her head like an itch she couldn't scratch off.

What if she did join?

What if it was as much fun as Ringo always said it was?

A sigh escaped her lips at how bothered she was by her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this? She can always play her instruments at home. A crowd wouldn't make a difference, she thought as the wind whizzed past.

Her thoughts continued to race as she drove home. This band thing was stupid. Maybe she shouldn't attend the audition after a—

"Hey goofy boy!" a voice called out.

'What? Me?' she thought, lifting her visor to look around for the source of the voice. Across the stoplight, she saw another woman waving at her enthusiastically. It was almost ridiculous to look at. She raised an eyebrow, looking at her sides and behind her to see if you were talking to someone else before pointing to herself inquisitively.

"Yes you! Across the stoplight! C'mere!" you yelled, signaling her to stop in front of the cafe you were standing in front of, not really caring if other people were looking at you with how silly you were being.

Her blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly suspicious of your intentions. And yet, the way you were smiling and calling her over made her feel...something. Once the light turned green, she drove over to you, pulling up at the lot in front of the cafe.

You walked over to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the side stands on. "What do you want?" she asked in a low voice that clearly indicated that she didn't trust you even one bit.

"That.." You pointed to the guitar case on her back, making her raise an eyebrow cautiously. What did you want with her baby huh? She was so ready to throw hands.

"What model? And how long have you been playing?" you asked, still pointing to her guitar. Mizu looked over her shoulder being sighing. This was a waste of time. "I'm not inclined to tell you that," she replied, getting ready to kick her side stands off.

You snorted at her cold reply before leaning closer until she was face-to-face with you no matter how much she pulled away. The proximity allowing her to take in your features better and you were quite...pretty?

No. Wait.

Let's focus on how much of nuisance you were being.

Before she could even kick off her side stands, you already blocked her foot with yours. "Join our band," you said in a serious tone, showing her a business card before placing it in her jacket, smile still on your face.

Mizu groaned and rolled her eyes. "No. Now get your foot off before I kick it off," she replied. Yet, you kept your foot in the way of her stands, making her eyebrows knit together. "You look really goofy riding that bike of yours with a huge ass guitar case on your back," you said, eyes glancing at her guitar case before staring into her eyes intently. "You have talent, don't you?"

The smile on your face despite how serious and forward you were being was unnerving. "So what? I'm not going to join your band," she said in a low voice. Indeed, she was quite stubborn, but nowhere near your level. This motorist was the diamond in the rough you were looking for. "Goofy boy, join me in the café. It's my treat."

There was no way she's going into that café just for you to give her your sales talk and convince her to join your stupid unknown band. Not in a million years

—was what she thought.

Yet here she was, helmet off and sitting in front of you with a cup of matcha latte, watching you take a bite out of the cake you bought for yourself. After taking a slow sip, she sighed and narrowed her eyes at you. "I thought we were here talk about your band," she scoffed.

You smiled at her yet again, fork still in between your lips. "You're not going to talk right away, right? So let's take our time." A small 'tch' escaped her lips as she leaned back against the chair.

"Fine. I'll talk," she replied, staring at you up and down. Now that she was able to sit down and relax the tiniest bit, she was finally taking her time to look at you. And you weren't an eyesore at all. In fact, you were really fucking cute.

She's still not joining your band though.

A small giggle escaped your lips as you placed the fork down, resting your elbows on the table and intertwining your fingers together. "What model?" you asked, eyes darting to the guitar case beside your table.

Mizu glanced at it as her hands wrapped around the handle of her cup. "A les paul," she replied before taking a sip. Your smile widened before you took a sip from your cup as well, setting it down when she set hers down. "How long have you been playing?"

"Long enough," she replied, glancing at you, rolling her eyes at how you stared at her with curiosity, as if coercing her to tell more. "Fine, fine...before I started high school. I think. Maybe even longer."

You hummed in satisfaction and took another bite out of your cake. "Any other instruments?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow back at you. "A bass. A mustang."

Silence washed over both of you as you continued to eat your cake, making her feel a bit nervous. A small clink was heard as you put your fork down after taking your final bite. "What's your name, goofy boy?"

"Mizu," she replied before taking her drink into her hands. She downed it in one go, placing the cup down and picking her guitar case up. "This is pointless. I'm leaving," she said in a low husky voice, getting ready to stand up.

It was clear to her that she shouldn't have given so much time to you. She wasn't even interested in joining. Maybe if you weren't so cute, she wouldn't have tried to hear you out.

Before she can even stand up, you beat her to it, pushing her back down on the chair gently. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as you leaned forward again.

"I'll make you a star."

Huh?

Her clear surprise and confusion made you giggle. What the hell were you talking about? You pulled away and placed your hands on your hips, giving her a confident smile.

"Talent recognizes talent, Mizu. It may not be now, but I'll make you a star," you beamed.

Mizu blinked before scoffing. "That's ridiculous," she sneered before standing up and putting her helmet on. "For the last time, I'm not fucking joining your stupid audition."

Was what she said.

But here she was, a week later, sitting down inside the studio hallway. Her eyes watched as the auditionees chatted amongst themselves. Those who were done with the audition complaining about how strict the judge was, who she learned was just one person.

Her nerves were sending jitters to the tips of fingers, her throat tightening up slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. Just as she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly at the sight of a familiar pair of feet in front of her.

"I knew you were going to change your mind," her friend's voice chimed.

Looking up, she made eye contact with Ringo who was beaming at her, drumsticks tied to his stubby hands. "But how did you know where our studio is?"

This was the band Ringo was talking about? Oh boy.

She grunted and handed him the business card you snuck into her jacket. "The address is written there," she said with a sigh. He let out a small "oh" before his eyes widened even more. "So you've met her before," he replied cheerfully, handing the business card back.

"Who?" she asked, a serious yet curious look on her face. He looked confused for a moment before he replied, "Our manager. The one who handed you that card?" She wanted to ask more questions, but then a voice suddenly called for the drummer. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go. Bye!"

Upon Ringo leaving, Mizu sat back down and closed her eyes again, resting her elbows on her knees.

Some time later, all the auditionees had finished and yet, it seems that all of them had been rejected. "This is a waste of time. I should have left earlier," she muttered to herself.

Just as she was about to leave the studio, her name was called, leaving her with no choice. Slowly, she entered the room only to be greeted with—

"You came!" your voice beamed.

Her eyes scanned around the room to see you sitting down on a chair, holding some papers, as well as the other band members presumably. "And you're the manager apparently," she said plainly. A chuckle escaping your lips as you nodded. "You can get ready whenever you want to."

Once her guitar was plugged in and ready to go, she looked up at you again, waiting for any further instructions. Despite her mind telling her that there was nothing to be nervous about, her gut was squeezing and churning from anticipation.

Should she do her best? Or should she fuck this up?

Your eyes watched her carefully, observing how she handled her guitar. "Play any song you'd like," you said, leaning forward in your seat as you set the papers down on a chair beside you.

No. She didn't want to be in this stupid band. She's not going to do her best.

Why the fuck would she do that?

This wasn't even worth it.

Nononononononono—

She looked down on her guitar before beginning to strum the familiar intro of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Despite her bobbing her head slightly, it was clear through her body language that she wasn't even trying at all.

The smile on your face slowly disappeared until all that was left was an unreadably neutral expression. Once she was done, she looked at you with a bored expression. "Well?"

You sighed at her, giving her the same bored expression back, making her smirk a bit. "Guess I'm not in, am I?" She unplugged her guitar, getting ready to put it back in the case before your hands stopped her.

"Sit back down. We're not done," you said in a serious tone, facial expression neutral yet your eyes told her that you were daaaaaaaamn annoyed with how little of an effort she put in. The look in your eyes, they way you were gripping the neck of her guitar, did something to her. "I don't owe you a performance," she replied.

You glared at her lightly before snatching her guitar from her hands, causing her to glare at you. She tried to grab her guitar back but you kept evading her as you plugged it back in. Once it was plugged back on, you pushed towards her, making her stumble back a bit from how harsh you did it.

"Now sit down and play. Talent recognizes talent, Mizu," you growled at her. The scene causing everyone in the room to go quiet. It was clear to them that you were pissed. "If not, then sell that guitar. You're wasting it."

After all, the only thing you hated more than the equipment suddenly breaking was wasted potential. And Mizu was wasting a LOT of potential.

Your words struck a nerve in her causing her. With a loud screech, she pulled the chair towards her and sat down. "Fine. If it gets you to shut the fuck up."

She looked at you with one final glare as she leaned back, hands beginning to move against her guitar.

She began playing Hotel California, immediately skipping to the guitar rift at the end of the song.

By the normal person's ear, it wasn't anything special. There were more impressive sounding songs out there. But to you, you knew how difficult it was to get the tone of the song right with how slow it was compared to other rifts. If she made a mistake here, a wrong pluck, a wrong drag, a wrong vibrato, the mistake would be so painfully obvious.

And yet, here Mizu was, playing it perfectly with the same angry look on her face. She was damn mad at you for touching her guitar, for pushing her towards your stupid fucking band. And yet, she couldn't help but want to impress you.

Did she really not want to be in the band?

Why was she trying so fucking hard then?

Like her body was moving on its own.

Like her hands were itching to play more.

As she ended the song, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly, the sound of clapping caused her to perk up and look at you. The sight causing her breath to hitch a blush to dust over her cheeks. That was when she knew the answer to her question.

It was you and your proud little smile.

That cute fucking smile.

All the annoyance and anger you held at her melted off during her little performance. You knew you saw talent. The moment you saw that goofy looking motorist with the awkwardly large hard guitar case at the stoplight, talent already hit you like a damn truck.

Although she knew you were satisfied with her performance, she couldn't help but want to try more. She'll try. She'll damn try for the hottest fucking manager she has ever seen. Her earlier hesitations of whether she wanted to join the band or not disappearing.

Call it a gay agenda but she was going to secure this fucking spot. She'll be best fucking guitarist you have ever heard or seen.

Just as you were about to congratulate her, she raised a hand up to cut you off. "Wait—fuck—that was too easy. I... goddamnit. Wait, I'll try doing something harder," she said in a panicked slur.

Her hands immediately went back to her guitar, eyes narrowing in thought. If an impressive guitar rift was what she needed...

Suddenly, she began playing the guitar rift for Free Bird. Eyes glued to her guitar, palms sweating a bit as she hit every chord, every pluck, every fucking bend.

You couldn't place your finger on what it was, but somehow, it felt like she was playing more passionately. Like she was putting her all into this one song. Was it the way she was bobbing her head? Or the way she moved her guitar during every vibrato? Maybe the way her body moved with the music?

Once the song ended, she closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. You couldn't help but giggle at how flustered she looked, making her blush again.

"Am I in?" she asked, looking at you with hidden desperation in her eyes, making you giggle even more. Her eyebrows furrowed as you continued to laugh, not really answering her question. "Well?"

A gulp went down her throat as you stood up from your chair and picking up the papers you previously held. "Mizu," you giggled out, "You were already in from the moment you tried again."

...

oh

Well that was embarrassing.

You handed her the contract and a pen, humming as she read the content before signing. Looking at her signature, your smile widened. This flustered looking guitarist was exactly what you were looking for and you just hit jackpot.

"You won't regret this, Mizu. I swear." She glanced at you, scanning the big smile you had on your face before looking down at her guitar and unplugging it. "I better not."

Suddenly, you lunged forward at her. Her eyes widened when you suddenly took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Talent recognizes talent," you repeated, leaning closer to her, grip tightening with every word.

"I'll make you a star."

She'll be your star.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Eight

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: Your spider senses go off in the middle of the night, and you can't figure out why. Miguel goes out on a mission alone.

Word Count: 14,258 (I think I can safely say this will be the last time it ever gets to this. I thought about splitting this part but didn't want to leave you guys on a cliffhanger.)

Warnings: Some violence; mention of blood; explosions; angst; death

Music inspo while writing (in order):

"Sleepwalk" - Santo & Johnny (instrumental)

"Les" - Childish Gambino (instrumental)

"Adrian" - Bill Conti (instrumental) (I watched some of the "Rocky" movies and thought this song was so beautiful and tender)

"Amor Eterno" (instrumental) (iykyk, and I'm sorry if you do)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

***Beautiful fanart for Nonviolent Communication has been created by lovely artists and you can find it all linked in my masterlist under fanart. Please go and show some love to the artists!! Their art is BEAUTIFUL!! ❤️***

Part Eight

“The tension in the room right now is palpable,” Pav mutters as you and him stand side by side in Peter and Mary Jane’s living room.

“My bet is on Miles,” you reply quietly.

“Hm, I think Noir has this one,” he replies as the two of you look over at Miles and Noir.

“Miles has this in the bag,” Hobie murmurs behind you and Pav, making both of you turn around to look at him.

The three of you watch behind a couch as Miles and Noir, who are sitting on the floor around the living room’s console table, eye each other as they play UNO. The group started out with them, Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and you while Peter, Mary Jane, Penny, Margo, and Peter Porker watched. You were unfortunately the third one out followed by Hobie, leaving Noir and Miles as the two final players.

The others are watching from the couch, trying to hold their giggles. It’s Friday night, which means you and the rest of the group came over for dinner at Peter and Mary Jane’s universe. It’s a weekly dinner and one you’ve learned to love. It gives you something to look forward to on the weekend because it means you and your friends can relax and engage outside of work.

Peter and Mary Jane cook but the rest of you bring something over, which means that there’s usually a large dinner. Dinner always takes about an hour or so since you all catch up on what’s happening in your lives, which means that each week you and the other adults get to hear the younger people talk about school and some new drama. Of course, there’s also some talk about missions and anomalies considering most of you are spider-people. Then, after helping Peter and Mary Jane clean up, you all gather in the living room to play games.

Ten minutes later, Miles wins the game and Noir complains about the cards’ colors. After a good laugh, you all have a slice of cake, which you baked yourself, before everyone starts heading out. You say your goodbyes and thank Peter and Mary Jane for dinner before you head back to your universe. You change into your pajamas almost immediately, but you don’t head to bed just yet.

Instead, you grab a book from your bookshelf and take a seat on your couch. It’s ten p.m. on a rainy Friday night. You look around your apartment as you snuggle onto the couch with a blanket thrown over your legs. You open the book but you look up, your eyes taking in your small apartment.

It's officially four years since Peter’s death. His death anniversary was a couple of days ago and of course, there were some tears but for the most part, you handled it well. You visited him and spent some time at the cemetery. You went through some photo albums, taking a walk down memory lane.

Four years.

Where did the time go? You sigh as you look around your apartment. Time has gone by, but it doesn’t seem like it did in your apartment. It still looks the same as it did back when Peter was alive. It’s a personal choice. You wanted to keep everything the same. So, you have the same wall decorations the two of you hung together. The furniture is unchanged and it all remains in the original places you and Peter chose back in the day.

As you hear the soft pit pat of rain on your windows, you feel the urge to change some things around. Or maybe add new things.

You nod to yourself, thinking of what you’d like to do but decide to leave that for another day. It’s already a good sign you’re thinking of redecorating a little bit. You turn back to the book and begin to read, hoping that the reading and calm rain will lure you to sleep, which won’t be hard as you’re already feeling exhausted from the missions you were a part of today plus the patrolling of your city.

Soon enough, you notice your eyes begin to skip lines and you’re having to find your place multiple times. You decide to call it a night when you see it’s midnight. You do your night routine before you slide into bed, drifting off without any trouble.

Miguel stares at one of his many monitors, standing on his platform. His eyes scan the information before him despite it being two in the morning. He scrolls a bit to see more information. It’s all the data that was collected the previous day on anomaly matter from multiple universes. Of course, Lyla reads the information and always lets him know when there’s something worth discussing but Miguel often prefers to go in and check himself. As he finishes reading the data from a specific section, he stretches his back to relieve some of the tension. He hears his back pop, and he sighs in relief before he returns to reading.

Miguel has been sleeping once a week at his penthouse for multiple weeks now but tonight is not one of those nights. Tonight, he’ll stay here in his empty lab like most nights. Even if he wanted to go home, he can’t. He feels restless. He notices the time on his monitors, of course. He finds himself wishing it was day already and he doesn’t know why. He sighs to himself, closing his eyes for a few seconds trying to regain his focus, so he can concentrate on the data, but he cannot. His fingers move on their own and soon, he’s looking at a video of himself and Gabriella, when he gifted her a soccer ball. He stares at the video fondly, remembering her happiness when she saw the gift. He closes it before he gets off his platform with another sigh and begins to walk out of his lab.

He exits his lab into one of the many hallways of HQ, deciding to take a walk to clear his mind. Miguel doesn’t really pay attention to where he’s going. He’s just walking. He does this sometimes when his brain needs a moment during the long nights. He walks the empty hallways and cafeteria, eyes scanning the city from behind the large windows. He cannot make much of it due to the rain falling against the glass, which has created a blurry effect. Still, Miguel can see the faint lights of flying cars and other buildings’ lights in the distance.

He walks and walks. It’s early Saturday morning and here he is, walking through an empty HQ. He eventually returns to his lab. His mind feels more at ease but there’s still something that gnaws at him. He resumes his work at his platform, scanning his monitors. Everything looks fine. He sighs again and begins to read the data, but that feeling is still there. It’s like Miguel knows that at any moment, Lyla will appear and tell him that something’s wrong.

He moves the screen closer, willing himself to concentrate. To ignore the feeling, but five minutes later, one of his screens flashes red and Lyla appears.

“Miguel – two anomalies have been detected. Earth-42. They just entered the universe.”

And there it is. Miguel’s mask immediately covers his face as he leaps off his platform.

“Two anomalies… Who are they? Are they in the system?” Miguel asks as he starts clicking on his gizmo, preparing to open a portal to travel.

“One of them is a Green Goblin version. The other one is not in our system. First time,” Lyla reports.

Miguel nods, wasting no time once the portal opens. He steps out onto a rooftop on Earth-42, the same one that was cleaned up by Miles and his variant from this Earth over a year ago when he ended up sent here by the Go Home Machine. As Miguel steps out onto a rooftop, he’s unable to stop himself from briefly scanning the city. What a difference. The city is well lit, calm, and there’s still a buzz of people despite the time and rain but Miguel quickly focuses on the task at hand, putting his thoughts behind.

He looks around the area, trying to catch sight of the anomalies. He spots the first one, an unknown anomaly running in circles on the street below. There’s no sight of the Green Goblin, however, so he decides to catch this strange anomaly first and then pursue the Green Goblin.

As he heads straight for the anomaly, Miguel’s eyes scan it, trying to get an idea of how dangerous it might be. The body is a white cybernetic one. The head, which is a male human head, is inside a container filled with liquid. Glass makes up the front portion of the container, making it possible for the anomaly to see and a few hoses run through the anomaly’s body, leading Miguel to make the educated guess it’s the way it sustains itself. He also notices that this anomaly only has one hand, while the other arm has a clamp at the end.

Just before Miguel lands on the ground, he prepares a trapper-keeper, ready to trap the anomaly to transport it to HQ. The anomaly, however, begins running away from him as soon as it spots him.

“Running already?” he mutters, as he starts chasing it. “Lyla, keep me updated on the Green Goblin, you know how they get with their little explosions.”

“The Green Goblin has moved further away,” Lyla answers, making Miguel groan. “Maybe you should call for backup.”

“No, I got this. Just keep me updated on the Goblin’s movements.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Lyla disappears, leaving Miguel to do his job. He runs before he leaps into the air, reaching an incredible height as he heads straight for the anomaly. The anomaly somehow senses his attack as it turns around and meets Miguel with its clamp, clawing at him to prevent any blows. The anomaly’s moves don’t deter Miguel though as he takes hold of the clamp before he pushes the man to the ground.

The anomaly uses his one hand to land a punch on Miguel’s thigh before he swipes one of his long cybernetic legs around Miguel’s lower body, knocking him to the ground. The anomaly runs off to a building, hoisting himself up by perforating the walls with the clamp.

Miguel quickly gets up, chasing after it. He shoots his web, wrapping it around the anomaly’s body and pulling but the anomaly puts up a good fight and ends up sniping the web with the clamp once it reaches the rooftop. Miguel spends ten minutes doing this: almost trapping the anomaly before it gets away.

“The Green Goblin is moving further away but there is no trouble detected. It’s like – it’s just waiting,” Lyla reports, sounding confused with the behavior of the Green Goblin.

“Waiting for what?” Miguel asks, in frustration as the anomaly keeps leaping off buildings.

“I don’t know.”

Miguel scowls, done with this already. In a rage of frustration, he shoots his webs and catches the anomaly in midair before pulling it towards him. Miguel is quick to jump, meeting the anomaly halfway before he delivers a blow to the head. It sends the anomaly crashing on a rooftop with a loud thud.

“You little-” the man says as he starts standing up, but he doesn’t have the opportunity to finish his sentence as Miguel lands on the rooftop and captures it with the trapper-keeper.

“Finally,” Miguel mutters, as he walks over to inspect it but before he even reaches it, he receives a heavy blow to his head, caught by surprise. “Green Goblin,” Miguel says angrily as he turns around.

“Hello, Spider-Man,” the Green Goblin greets him as he hovers in the air with his glider. “You look very different from my own Spider-Man.”

“That’s because you’re not in your universe,” Miguel answers annoyed as he lunges himself at the Goblin.

He knocks the Goblin off the glider, leading to the two of them landing on the rooftop before they begin hand to hand combat. The two men land blows on each other as the captured anomaly tries to break out of the trapper-keeper to no avail. Miguel notices this and it’s at this moment of distraction that the Goblin seizes his opportunity. He pulls out the Goblin trident and aims at Miguel’s hand, hitting his gizmo in the process.

Miguel immediately turns to the Goblin, retrieving his hand. He takes a quick glance at the gizmo before scowling at the Goblin, who’s about to take another swing at Miguel.  Miguel blocks it this time and throws a punch at him, sending him flying. The Goblin lands on the floor, quickly getting up on his feet and like every other Green Goblin in the multiverse, the cunning man pauses for a second, tilting his head as he stares at Miguel with interest. His eyes flicker to the strange device on this Spider-Man’s wrist. He grins behind his green mask before he dashes at Miguel, trident in hand.

Miguel and the Green Goblin continue to fight. Miguel successfully dodges the trident several times, but the Green Goblin only seems to be fueled by this. He swipes at Miguel with the trident, finally slicing his skin under the suit. Miguel winces, pressing his hand to his body briefly, a moment the Green Goblin takes to hit the gizmo again.

“I’ve had enough of you,” Miguel mumbles, as his talons extend.

“That’s a new one,” the Green Goblin comments, referring to the talons, before he jumps off the rooftop.

And of course, Miguel O’Hara never gives up, so he runs after the Green Goblin under the pouring rain. He watches as the anomaly lands on its glider before he flies off, laughing at Miguel. With a scowl, Miguel shoots his web and starts following him, catching up with the anomaly in no time.

“Catch, Spider-Man!” the Green Goblin says pulling out one of its many grenades before he throws it at a building.

Miguel charges towards it, successfully stopping it from detonating but what he doesn’t sense is the Green Goblin coming from behind with his trident. He hits Miguel’s gizmo again with a strength that manages to crack the screen. He swipes at Miguel once more, slicing his skin almost in the same place as earlier before he flies off. Miguel shoots his web to keep himself from falling to the ground.

“Mierda!” Miguel yells as he swings, clutching the same area that was sliced.

He looks down at his gizmo, noticing the crack on it. It should continue working, Miguel thinks to himself, knowing that he and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure the device would be durable. It would take a lot to break it.

And it becomes the Green Goblin’s mission to do so. As Miguel and the anomaly continue their fight through the city, the Green Goblin aims hit after hit on the device, cunningly planning blows as he realizes the Spider-Man before him doesn’t sense his moves like the superhero from his own universe.

“Don’t let him hit the gizmo, Miguel!” Lyla warns, as the Green Goblin makes another swing.

And so, after what feels like an hour of fighting, the green mask man succeeds.

“Migu-” Lyla starts but doesn’t finish.

The gizmo’s screen shatters, and Miguel immediately knows it when he sees the colors of the device fade and Lyla’s holograph disappearing, making Miguel cuss under his breath as he realizes what this means. He needs to catch the Green Goblin soon, before he starts glitching.

The Green Goblin, however, has other plans as he flies off towards a skyscraper. He immediately pulls out more of his grenades, throwing them at the building. Miguel rushes and jumps into the air to try and stop them from detonating and as he works on this, the Green Goblin flies to him, quickly stabbing him with his trident in the stomach. He laughs at Miguel as he twists the trident to add more pain before flying off just as one of the remaining grenades goes off, blowing up a part of the skyscraper. Miguel, who is falling in midair due to the injury, covers his face as debris bursts around him. He feels some of it, glass from the windows, dig into his body causing him to groan in pain.

The adrenaline of it all still allows him to shoot his webs, preventing himself from falling. Except he glitches. For the first time in his life, Miguel experiences firsthand what it feels like to be an anomaly. He feels the shock of it in his body as he’s falling again since his web gave out in the process of glitching. The glitching stops and he tries again, catching himself on time. He lifts himself up onto a rooftop to collect himself, but the pain is there. He looks around quickly, there’s no sight of the Green Goblin. Miguel breathes heavily, the action making pain course through his body. He looks up at the city as he feels blood gush under his suit, where the trident puncture his body.

“Mierda,” Miguel mumbles out of breath, realizing what his situation means. No one knows he’s here. It’s the middle of the night and he’s injured, unable to travel back to his universe because his gizmo is broken. The realization dawns on him.

This might be it.

As the realization hits him, Miguel looks around the city. The rain is going strong, and he can hear sirens in the distance. He must move somewhere else. The tallest building catches his eye right away. He makes one last swing, forcing himself to climb the building despite the pain but thinking that if this is it, he wants to have a nice view. He thankfully doesn’t glitch on his way up, allowing him to make it to the rooftop. He collapses against a wall, next to the building’s door that leads to the rooftop. Miguel stares out into the city as he lays on the ground, clutching his stomach. The adrenaline is wearing off, and he knows it because his body feels weaker now. He begins to feel the pain more as it runs through his body. He can feel blood under his suit, gushing out slowly and his breathing feels more labored now.

Miguel looks at his gizmo again, as if hoping that the device will magically function, but he knows better. There’s no way to return to his universe. He sighs, the action taking more effort than it should as he lets his mask off, wanting his face to feel the rain.

What a way to die. In another universe that isn’t his home. Alone on a rooftop as rain cascades down on him. His hair is damp and it’s sticking to his forehead, but Miguel makes no attempt to fix it. His face – no – his entire body feels cold, which is a strange feeling for Miguel. His body heat has always prevented him from being cold but his body – the one he has pushed to its limits for years now – fails him now.

Miguel tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on the city and the skyscrapers. It’s a lovely sight and he can’t help but remember the day he was here with you many months ago when he assigned you to work with him for the first time. It was daytime and the sight was wonderful. He can’t help but think that you would love the sight even more at night.

As he stares out into the city, he can’t help but also think how ironic this is. Miguel is about to die on Earth-42. The very same universe linked to the whole mess with Miles. It seems so far away now, Miguel thinks. When he was set on preventing Miles from saving his father so he wouldn’t break the canon. It was such a messy situation. He acted in a way he’ll never be able to take back even if everyone else moved on.

Now, here he is. On Earth-42, in a far different city than the one he met when he first ventured into the multiverse. It’s almost like a slap in the face. As if it was meant for him to think of this in his last moments. To see one of his biggest mistakes. 

Miguel sighs again and this time, the action makes him hiss in pain. He can feel the blood. The pain is there but he tries to bear with it. He tries to distract himself.

As Miguel stares at the lights and the skyscrapers, his mind begins to wander off. He thinks of his family and flashes of memories run through his head. He sees his mom, when she was much younger and he was a kid, tending to his scraped knee. He sees her cooking in the kitchen of his childhood home.

He sees Gabriel sitting on his bedroom floor playing with his action figures, the same ones he begged Conchata for. He remembers the evenings they spent together, playing and pretending to be superheroes, not knowing what was in store for them in the future. He recalls the times when Gabriel was still so young and had nightmares. He found no comfort from his father, so he always went to Miguel’s bedroom. There, Miguel would comfort and assure him that it was just a bad dream and that it meant nothing. Despite Miguel’s comforting words, Gabriel always asked if he could stay with him, and Miguel could never say no.

“Gabrielito,” Miguel whispers, as he thinks of his little brother. His childhood face flashes in Miguel’s head before it morphs into Gabriel’s adult face. It was unfair, so unfair. Like any other older sibling, Miguel always thought he would be the first to pass away. He never imagined that it would be his little brother. He never imagined he would be taken away the way he was either. It was so unfair.

And as he thinks of Gabrielito, Miguel remembers a song his brother was very fond of. Surprisingly, the music is so clear in his mind as if it was only yesterday when the two of them drove to hang out with friends. As the older brother, Miguel was obviously the driver and Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, playing music. He remembers the first time Gabriel played it. He asked Miguel to be quiet and to just listen to it. And so, they had. They drove in silence as the instrumental song played, and it felt oddly nostalgic.

Miguel’s breathing slows down as the memories rush through his mind. They switch over to Gabriella. His time with her was short but they made so many memories. He can’t help but feel shame and pain in his chest as he thinks of her. Miguel has strayed away from his religion for some time now, but he hopes that if Heaven is real, that’ll he get to see her again. To hold her one more time. To apologize to her for lying. His wife comes to mind, too, of course, and so does the shame. He fell in love so quickly. His need to have a family blinded him so much, everything was rushed. Miguel can’t help but think now that he would’ve done things differently if he could. He wouldn’t have rushed into things. His wife had deserved better than him. Yet, he thinks fondly of the short time they had. He thinks warmly of the time he had a family even if it’s laced with shame and pain.

He lets his mind take him to those memories, back to those days that are long gone. As his mind is flooded with memories, he doesn’t notice the slowness of his breathing or heart. He doesn’t even feel the coldness of the wet ground or the cold raindrops that run down his beautiful face. He doesn’t notice that he’s staring at the city with half-lidded eyes now.

His mind goes through everything that happened in the last two years, including the fight and the multiverse hunt for Miles, which all lead to the last year. And of course, the last year leads to you. Your face flashes in Miguel’s mind. He thinks of the first time he met you when Jess introduced you. He thinks of the first weeks that you showed up with coffee to meetings before anyone else arrived and how he ignored the gesture. He remembers the day you volunteered to organize his lab thanks to Jess’s comment about the clutter. He sees different days combined into one memory of you chatting with Lyla as you worked, your voice and Lyla’s carrying to him, allowing him to hear bits and pieces.

He thinks of the day he showed up at your apartment and how he hated feeling something, which he now realizes was worry. Everything that has happened with you runs through his mind like a show. He sees your face, looking up at him on Dia de los Muertos, with that look of understanding in your eyes. He sees your arm reaching out to him when you wanted to comfort him. He sees you sitting on his kitchen island, eating the food he cooked on Christmas Eve. He remembers the ornaments and how yours was better than his. He recalls you showing up the next day. You brought cake and it was delicious. He remembers the two of you sat on the kitchen island again to eat, that time joined by Lyla, who asked questions as per usual.

He thinks of New Years Eve. You were invited to Miles’s universe, and you were sent to drop off food again. You stayed for a while once he mentioned that there was a huge firework show after the ball dropped, which meant that you spent the last and first minutes of the year with him in his penthouse.

Miguel’s heart continues to slow down as he thinks of the last year. You’re his friend. And he can’t help but feel disappointed that he’ll never be able to tell you face to face now. He wishes he could thank you. For everything. For the days you dealt with his coldness when he didn’t acknowledge you at all and left your coffee untouched. He briefly thinks about your excuse for taking him coffee. You lied much the same way he had lied about his reasoning for checking in on you that very first day. The day that led to your friendship. As Miguel’s eyelids further close, he thinks of how you’ll never know the truth about that day.

No one will.

Miguel’s heart beats slower and his body is cold as the rain continues to fall on him in the early morning. He listens to the soft pit pat as rain lands on the ground as the seconds tick by.

The same pit pat of rain can be heard on your apartment windows. The sound of it immediately fills your ears when you jolt awake from your sleep. A loud gasp escapes from your lips as you sit up on your bed. You sit, listening to the rain in the darkness of your bedroom as you try to catch your breath.

Your spider senses begin to go off, making you realize that’s what woke you up. You hurriedly jump out of bed and make a straight line to where you keep the two-way radio. You always keep the volume somewhat high during the night in case of emergencies but as you grab it and wait, there’s no feedback. Your eyes flicker to the clock on your nightstand. It’s three in the morning. You hurry to the windows of your apartment, pulling the curtains open to look out. There’s no sight of disturbance. If anything, the city looks at peace under the rain.

There’s not even the sound of traffic. All you can hear is the sound of rain but it’s there again. Your spider senses. Something is not right.

You hurry and get changed into your suit, not knowing what to do. Nothing looks wrong outside but you’re out of your apartment in less than three minutes. You swing from building to building as your eyes inspect the streets below. Your eyes search for anyone who might be in danger or anyone who might cause trouble.

Nothing.

You land on a rooftop to catch your breath. There’s a feeling of dread growing in the pit of your stomach. It’s one you’re all too familiar with as you’ve only ever felt this kind of dread once before. You try not to think of it but it’s impossible not to. The kind of dread that’s spreading through your body is the same kind you felt the day you lost Peter. You felt it spread like poison when you hurried to find Peter in the rubble. The feeling is branded into your mind and as you stand on the rooftop, overlooking the city still searching for trouble, you are overwhelmed by it once again.

You click on your gizmo and open a portal. If nothing is wrong in your universe, maybe there’s trouble somewhere else, you tell yourself. You quickly travel to all your friends’ universes within two minutes. Each time you arrive, you scan your friends’ cities but find nothing amiss. The cities are peaceful. You’re about to open another portal when your senses go off once again.

“What’s happening?” you mutter, as you look around one more time, seeing nothing.

You quickly head to HQ, finding yourself in the cafeteria. You walk through it quickly, feeling even more uneasy at the sight of a usually busy place being vacant of any life. Some of the lights are completely off, leaving pockets of darkness lingering around as you cross the cafeteria. You wonder where you’re even heading as you walk past the large windows of the Spider Society building, noticing the rain and the distant lights of flying cars.

Miguel’s city looks peaceful as well. Nothing seems wrong and yet that dread grows with each step you take, growing and clawing at your chest. Finally paying more attention, you realize you’ve made your way to Miguel’s lab. Perhaps there’s an anomaly threatening the entirety of the multiverse, you try to reason. Maybe that’s why you woke up.

You stand in front of Miguel’s lab and call for Lyla. Despite the uneasiness and dread running through your body, you still find it in yourself to ask for permission to enter his lab. You wait impatiently for the AI assistant to greet you but as the seconds tick by, there’s no sight of Lyla and your emotions intensify. It’s like a sign that something is definitely wrong. You call for Lyla one more time, saying her name louder and with more urgency as if that’ll help. Nothing. You burst into the lab, deciding to be sorry rather than safe.

“Miguel?” you call out, as you hurriedly enter his lab, hoping to find him on his platform surrounded by his many screens like always. “I’m sorry that I entered your lab like that, but Lyla is not responding, and my spider senses are goi-” you say, stopping when your eyes finally land on the platform.

Miguel’s screens are flashing red, not the usual marigold color you’ve grown accustomed to. And even worse yet, Miguel is nowhere in sight. You rush to the platform to get a closer look at the screens. They all read “DISCONNECTED.”

You stare in confusion but realize this must be the reason why Lyla didn’t respond earlier. You call out Miguel’s name again, but you’re met with a deafening silence. You take a deep breath in. Lyla is offline. The screens are flashing red. And Miguel is nowhere to be found.

You hurriedly try to reach Miguel through your gizmo, but your gizmo flashes a message, indicating that the recipient is disconnected. Your dread grows. There’s no way that Miguel would go offline like this. You’re halfway out of HQ when you reach out to Margo, the one person you know who can manage Miguel’s technology. As you head out into Nueva York, you pray for once that Margo is pulling one of her usual all-nighters. As you swing towards Miguel’s penthouse, Margo finally responds.

“Hey – what are you doing up this late? Something wrong?” Margo immediately asks.

You look down at her projected hologram from your gizmo. “Margo. Something is wrong with Miguel’s system. Lyla is offline and so is he. I think – I think something’s wrong. Can you please head to HQ and fix it? I’m on my way to Miguel’s penthouse to see if he’s alright,” you say, the words rushing out of your mouth, full of worry.

“Offline? That’s not – I don’t think Miguel would ever go offline,” Margo responds with a frown. “I’m going now to see what’s going on.”

“I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Bye,” you say as her hologram disappears.

You quickly find Miguel’s building and swing to it, sticking to the walls. You climb it, until you reach the penthouse and look inside. All the lights are off and there’s no sight of Miguel anywhere. You climb onto the rooftop, immediately clicking on your gizmo to open a portal, pulling the coordinates that were sent to you on Christmas Eve months ago. You hurriedly walk through it, stepping into Miguel’s living room once again.

Your eyes scan the place quickly before you rush up the stairs. With each step you take, you feel that dread grow tenfold. You pray that everything’s fine. That you’ll only have to apologize to Miguel for coming into his home the way you are now. You pray that he’ll be in bed sleeping for once and that this is all some misunderstanding. You open the first door you come across, eyes scanning the room only to realize it’s an office. You open the next door and find a large, luxurious bathroom. The next room is a bedroom, but you immediately realize it’s not the master bedroom, so you rush to the next door, pushing it open. Your heart sinks as you take in the sight.

Miguel’s bedroom is empty, and his bed looks undisturbed, which means he’s not home. You rush back to the first floor before you sprint to the living room, gizmo already opening a portal. You travel back to HQ, popping up at the cafeteria before you rush to the lab, wondering if Margo has been able to fix the problem. All the while, your dread grows. You feel your chest tighten as you think of Miguel and his whereabouts.

You burst into the lab where you find Margo, opening and closing screens with the flick of her wrist. She looks over her shoulder before she continues to work.

“He’s not at home,” you manage to breathe out despite the tightness in your chest.

“This is – not looking good,” Margo says, making you freeze.

“What do you mean it’s not looking good?” you ask, staring at her back as she continues to work. Her words make your anxiety grow.

“Miguel’s gizmo is completely offline, which means… it’s broken. Wherever he is, the gizmo is not working at all,” she says as she opens another screen.

You bring a hand to your face, gripping your lower face as you look around the lab. You feel your breathing speed up while at the same time finding it difficult to even do so.  

“Have you been able to get Lyla back online?” you ask shakily.

“I’m working on it. Just one more step,” Margo says in a rush, noticing your demeanor slowly crumbling apart. “She’s back! Lyla must know what happened.”

It takes a few seconds before Lyla appears and you waste no time.

“Lyla, where is Miguel?” you ask, stepping closer to her.

“Y/N! Miguel is hurt and stranded on Earth-42! There were two anomalies detected and he went out to handle them but one of them broke his gizmo and managed to injure him,” Lyla hurriedly explains the situation.

“Shit,” you mutter, and begin to open a portal. “What were his last coordinates, Lyla?”

“I’ll send them to you, please hurry! I don’t know how badly he was injured, and he must be glitching by now.”

“Inform Jess of what’s happening and see if we can get other members to help. Miguel may have moved from the last coordinates you have. We may need to search the city for him. Margo. Please stay here just in case we need any help with the system. I’ll keep you updated,” you say before you rush into the portal.

Rain pours down on you as you step into Earth-42. You waste no time in looking around at the city and instead run to the ledge of the rooftop. You lunge yourself to the next building, eyes scanning, trying to find any sign of Miguel. Lyla’s hologram appears from your gizmo as you fly to the next building, giving you Miguel’s last known location.

You swing from building to building, moving fast just as you see another portal from your peripheral vision.

“Y/N. Any sign of Miguel?” Jess asks, joining the search.

“Not yet,” you reply as you continue to swing.

“Others will be joining the search. They’re on their way,” Jess replies.

And sure enough, as you swing between buildings, you see multiple portals opening from various rooftops. You feel relief to see others joining and hope that with more people involved, the search won’t last long.

“Alright, everyone. Lyla has sent Miguel’s last location. He’s injured and probably glitching as his gizmo stopped working.”

You hear your colleagues’ replies as you head to the location. You briefly wonder about the anomalies. Were they caught or did they get away? You reach Miguel’s last location and immediately search the rooftop for any signs, but Miguel is nowhere to be seen. You turn when you hear someone else join you. Hobie gives you a nod before he searches the other side of the rooftop.

“Nothing,” he says.

You dash to the other rooftop, looking down at the empty and dark alleyways, hoping to find something.

“This rooftop looks disturbed. Looks like there was some fighting,” Hobie communicates.

You locate him and join him. Others join you and Hobie in inspecting the scene, and sure enough there are signs of fighting but no sign of Miguel anywhere around. You look around, trying to get a feel of where the fighting moved to from this rooftop. You leap to the next rooftop, continuing your search.

“There is no sight of anomalies,” someone says, making you pause. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working and this isn’t his universe, surely that would mean that Lyla should be able to detect him as an anomaly in this universe.

You continue to search but call for Lyla, who immediately appears.

“Lyla. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working, can’t you detect him as an anomaly in this universe?” you ask her, hoping that she and everyone else including you forgot about this fact and that she’ll be able to pinpoint his exact location, but she shakes her head, giving you a look full of frustration.

“I’ve tried that. Unfortunately, the system failure from earlier has caused some malfunctions in the entire system. I cannot detect any anomalies at all right now. Margo and I are working on it. As soon as we get it running again, I’ll run the test and find him unless you guys find him first.”

You thank her and let her go, hoping that Miguel is found whichever way as long as it’s soon. You continue to move around, lunging from building to building like the other members in search of the founder and commander of the Spider Society. Your heart races as you search, and you pause for a second, trying to calm yourself down. Panicking like this will only interfere with successfully finding him. You pause and take a deep breath. Your spider senses went off earlier and now you’re sure it was for this reason. You try to calm down, hoping that this will allow your senses to come in. You will them to help you right now; to lead you in the right direction.

You don’t allow yourself to think too long about the fact that you sensed this. That you sensed Miguel was in trouble. You ignore it. That will be something to ponder about later, or maybe not, considering you’ll come up with no reasonable explanation. You hope no one questions how you knew either.

You look around the city as rain continues to pour down on you. Since you arrived, the rain has picked up and all you can think about is Miguel on some rooftop, hurt and glitching under the cold rain.

“Where are you, Miguel?” you whisper, as you do a full turn.

Your gaze moves past it, but your eyes quickly return to it. The tallest building in the city is about ten buildings away from you. You stop and look up at it, rain falling on your masked face. Before you know it, you’re running across rooftops, leaping in the air to reach the building. You hear Hobie and Jess scream at you, asking where you’re going, and you reluctantly answer through your gizmo.

“I’m just going to check something,” you reply, as you throw web at the building now, aiding you in reaching the building faster. You feel a strange sensation spread through your chest as you stick to the building and begin to run upwards. You hope you’re right and yet again you wonder what it’ll mean if you are, but you don’t spend too much time thinking about this. All you care about at the end of the day is that Miguel is found and well. You continue to run, lifting yourself up with your web. You use a combination of running and lifting to reach the top of the building, meanwhile you can sense other members far behind joining you.

And why wouldn’t they when they see the speed and determination in your movements. To everyone paying attention, you’re climbing the tallest building in the city as if you know that your distant and serious commander is on that rooftop.

And he is.

You see his slumped figured over a wall and rush with a speed that almost makes it seem like you teleported to him. You are kneeled at his right side almost instantly, eyes scanning his bare face.

You quickly lift your gizmo and inform the others.

“Miguel has been found. He’s on the tallest building’s rooftop,” you say, sounding ragged not only because of the climb but also because of relief that you’ve found him. You notice his chest moving. Breathing. “He’s breathing!” you add, informing your colleagues.

You notice raindrops running down his face and without a second thought, you remove your mask and lay it over his head as an attempt to shield his face. Your worry for Miguel is so strong that you don’t even notice the coldness of the rain on your face or the fact that your hair is getting damp.

You move closer to him now. “Miguel,” you say and tentatively grab his right shoulder. “Miguel, can you hear me?” you ask loudly, hoping he’ll hear you over the pouring rain.

You take in the sight of Miguel, anguish spreading through your body as you try to get a sense of his injuries. His brown hair is wet from the rain, making it stick to his forehead.  His face looks like it has lost some color, which worries you instantly, but you try not to think negatively. Miguel is a strong man, and you know his spider abilities allow him to withhold many injuries. The only thing bothering you is that you don’t know the extent of the injuries he may have. For all you know, they could be serious, which is why you’re careful when you look down at his body, trying to find any sign of injury, but his suit looks intact.

“Miguel,” you say again and this time you cup the right side of his face in your hand, immediately feeling the coldness of his skin even through your suit. Shame rushes through you as you hold his face, feeling like you’re disrespecting him and his boundaries regarding physical touch, but you push past it and call his name again.

And this time, Miguel shifts slightly. His eyes flutter open slowly before they move to you.

“You are here” he mumbles, with his maroon eyes meeting yours.

“Miguel! Yes, we’re here. Don’t worry, we’re taking you back home, okay?” you say softly, reassuring him. “Where are you hurt?” you ask him just as other members finally reach the rooftop.

“I have glass shards in my torso,” he says, closing his eyes. “And a few deep cuts. My gizmo is not working,” he adds softly with eyes still closed, feeling your suited hand cupping his face gently.

You nod though he cannot see you and look down at his gizmo since he mentioned it, noticing for the first time the broken device. You’ve never seen or heard of anyone’s breaking, not even during a gruesome fight since Miguel and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure they were durable in these kinds of scenarios. You wonder how it was possible that it managed to get broken. You shove your thoughts away and remove your hand from Miguel’s face. You quickly remove your gizmo and gently take Miguel’s right arm in your free hand as you’re suddenly surrounded by your colleagues. You slide your gizmo into his free wrist, ensuring that he won’t glitch any more in the meantime before he’s back to Nueva York, so he won’t be in additional pain. You let go of his arm and turn slightly to see who’s made it already.

Miguel opens his eyes when he feels the gizmo around his wrist. He looks at your hands, your wrist now empty. He wants to tell you to take it back or you’ll glitch soon, but Jess begins to talk, giving orders to your colleagues as the second in command, preventing him from warning you.

“We need to get him to HQ immediately,” she says stepping closer. “We’ll need to carry him carefully as we don’t know the extent of the injuries,” she adds looking down at Miguel and you, who remains kneeled at his side. She looks around and calls out some of your colleagues’ names, including yours, to help carry Miguel to HQ.

You and the others immediately get on it. You turn to Miguel and give him an apologetic look though his eyes are closed again before you take his arm. You put all your strength along with Ben Reilly to help Miguel up, but you end up getting replaced by Peter once it becomes apparent that your height difference is an issue. Still, you stand by closely making sure that they don’t hurt him in the process. Someone opens a portal just as Jess gives the order to the other members to search for the anomalies.

You watch as Ben and Peter hold Miguel, walking carefully into the portal. Jess motions for you to go, following closely behind you.

“The infirmary staff is ready to treat him. They should be waiting for us,” Jess says as you step foot back in HQ.

You briefly look around at the infirmary sector before your eyes return to Miguel. Sure enough, infirmary staff approach the three men and before you know it, Miguel is on a stretcher being led away down a long hallway.

A doctor, who you hadn’t noticed before, approaches you and everyone else. You watch as the staff take Miguel away until they enter a room and disappear while Jess and the doctor talk.

“With Miguel hurt, I’ll be handling things until he recovers. That means I’ll have to be away, but you can direct yourself to -” Jess says pausing, looking around before her eyes land on you. “You can direct yourself to her. Y/N,” you hear Jess.

You turn at the mention of your name. You find her, the doctor and Peter looking at you.

“As the second in command, I’ll be taking over for now. Peter, you’ll be my second in command in the meantime. And you,” Jess says nodding at you. “You’ll be my third in command. I need you to stay here and keep us updated on Miguel’s status. You’re also to make sure that his privacy is respected,” she says with a frown. “I doubt anyone will try anything, but I rather be safe than sorry. Make sure no one tries to go in for any reason. If he wants visitors once he’s awake, it’ll be up to him.”

You nod.

“Of course, I’ll keep you updated and make sure no one intrudes on his priva-” you start but stop when you glitch. You cry out as you experience glitching for the first time and nearly lose your balance, but Peter catches you before you fall.

“You’re glitching – where is your gizmo?” Peter asks confused as he holds you, keeping you steady.

You huff in pain and look up as the feeling starts fading away. You meet Peter and Jess’s eyes.

“I gave it to Miguel to prevent him from glitching again in the time it took us to transport him,” you finally say softly, still feeling a little out of breath. You can’t help but think how awful it feels to glitch even in good health, making you wonder what it must have felt like for Miguel while being injured. You sigh softly. “I’ll keep you guys updated. And I’ll make sure Miguel is undisturbed,” you add.

Jess and Peter look at you before the two of them nod.

“I’ll have someone send you a gizmo in a while. For now, put this on to prevent more glitching,” Jess says pulling out a day pass from her pocket. She hands it to you, and you slide it on immediately, thanking her. “Peter and I will be in Miguel’s lab. Margo and Lyla are still trying to fix the system. We need to get it fixed before we find ourselves with multiple anomalies running loose, so we’ll be taking care of that. As I said, someone will deliver a gizmo so you can keep us updated, alright?”

You nod and Jess nods back at you. She stares at you for a few seconds as if she wants to say more but she looks over at Peter, who meets her eyes before he turns to you. He gives you a reassuring smile.

“We’ll get through this. Everything will be alright. Right, Jess?” he says, turning his attention back to Jess as he lets go of you at last, sensing you’re more stable now after glitching.

“Right,” Jess says before she nods at you and gives her thanks to the doctor, who hurries off. Jess, too, departs, heading to the elevator with Ben following behind.

Your gaze moves to the doctor as she walks down the hallway. Your eyes follow her even when you feel Peter’s hand on your shoulder.

“He’ll be okay. Miguel is a strong guy,” he says softly in a reassuring tone, also watching the doctor for a few seconds. He sighs and squeezes your shoulder gently before he departs, following Jess and Ben to the elevator.

You stand alone in the infirmary’s quiet lobby now. You look around to distract yourself. Thankfully you’ve never needed to be here, so you’re not familiar with this floor. You find yourself walking to the windows. It’s still dark out, so you can see the lights on from other buildings and cars in the distance despite the blurriness due to the soft rain. You stare out of the windows for some time, your mind taken up by Miguel and his health.

It's not until you feel a tap on the shoulder that you turn away from the windows. You find Ben Reilly, who offers you a small smile before he hands you a gizmo and a tablet.

“Jess sends this. The gizmo for obvious reasons and the tablet to keep you occupied while you wait,” he says, still giving you a smile.

You take both devices and nod at him, giving him a small smile. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate it,” you say as you slide on the new gizmo.

Ben nods, staring at you. You hold on to the tablet, looking down at it before Ben breaks the silence. “Pretty crazy, right?”

You look up just as he pushes his hair to the side a bit, and nod before turning to face the windows again. “Yes.”

The two of you stare out the window for a few seconds in silence, watching the rain.

“Miguel will be alright, I think. He’s a buff dude,” Ben says, trying to reassure you. You smile sadly and nod.

You hear Ben pop his fingers next to you. “I must head back now. Jess and Peter needs everyone on board to find those anomalies so – I’ll see you around.”

You turn to face him and thank him again. “Thank you. Please tell Jess and Peter that if they need me to do anything else, to let me know.”

Ben nods as he stands in front of you, giving you another small smile. “Consider it done. By the way, the way you leaped up that building was – very impressive and I mean that in a good way,” he adds.

You nod again, feeling somewhat lighter with Ben’s comment as you’ve learned over the last months that he’s really into dramatic poses and such and you have a feeling he’s trying to lighten up the mood despite the situation. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate the compliment.”

Ben nods one more time before he starts departing but turns around again, remembering something.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Your mask,” he says walking back to you and pulling your mask from under his hoodie and handing it to you. “It fell when we carried Miguel back here.”

You take it from his hand. You completely forgot about it once you put it over Miguel’s head. You thank him again for his help before he departs, leaving you alone again. You slide the mask into one of your suit’s hidden pockets and hold on to the tablet but don’t boot it up. Instead, you turn your attention back to the windows. You wait patiently there, hoping that someone will come and give you an update, but no one comes. Your mind goes back to what happened tonight and you try to think of an explanation but eventually drop it. You don’t know what happened tonight. You don’t know what led you to sense Miguel’s situation but you’re glad he’s safe now, in his universe and that’s all that matters.

It’s not until almost two hours later that you hear footsteps. You turn around immediately, for once departing from your spot by the windows. Your eyes find the doctor from earlier as she heads your way. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment as she reaches you.

“Mr. O’Hara is stable now. He had multiple glass shards on his torso, many of which were small, so we needed to ensure we didn’t miss any of them to prevent an infection. He also has two large cuts on the left side of his torso and a stab wound in the middle of his abdomen. It was pretty deep, and it will take a few days to fully heal. We know he glitched a few times and it took some toll on his body, so that’s why it’ll make his injuries heal slower, but he’ll recover successfully,” the doctor informs you with a kind voice. “Would you like to see him? He’s still passed out due to the meds, but you can stay in the room with him now.”

You nod immediately. “Yes, please. And thank you for the update. I’ll let the others know right away,” you say, as the two of you walk down the hallway.

You can’t help but feel your heart pound in your chest as you approach the room. The doctor opens the door for you, letting you in.

“Let us know if you need anything,” she says before she closes the door softly, giving you privacy.

The hospital room’s lights are off except for two lamps to the left side of the room and a light behind the hospital bed, where you find Miguel. You carefully walk closer to the bed, your eyes scanning his face under the soft lighting. As you step closer and stand by his side at last, your eyes continue to observe his face. Miguel’s face is relaxed, and you can’t help but think how boyish he looks while sleeping. It’s as if all the worries and threats to the multiverse are nonexistent at this moment.

You notice his hair is dry now, but it’s still pressed to his forehead, giving him a messy look, which just adds to the boyish look. You fight the urge to fix it and instead pull a chair closer to the bed before you take a seat. You remember you need to update everyone, so you send a quick message to Jess, notifying her that Miguel is stable and what the doctor said about his injuries. It takes a few seconds before she replies that she’s relieved to hear the news. She also asks you to let her know when Miguel wakes up.

You sit on your chair near Miguel, listening to his even and slow breathing. You watch his chest gently rise and fall before your eyes trace his face. His face still needs to regain its natural color but he’s alive and he’ll recover. All is well now. For the first time since you woke up, you exhale deeply; releasing pent up emotions now that your very own eyes can confirm that Miguel is safe. Before you know it, you feel tears pooling in your eyes as you stare at Miguel’s sleeping face.

You rest an arm on the chair’s armchair and rest your chin on your hand as you feel the tears run down your face softly. Your lips quiver as you hold a soft sob in the quiet hospital room, unable to stop yourself from crying.

Tonight is the first time in four years that you’ve felt anything remotely close to what you felt the day you lost Peter. The dread that grew with each second as you headed to find him. The tightening of your chest that made it difficult to breathe as you swung from building to building. The feeling that you were going to be too late. Again.

Of course, you know it’s different. Peter had a small window of time that to this day you believe you missed. You felt lucky enough that you were able to say goodbye to him.  Meanwhile, Miguel could’ve probably hung on for a little longer due to his powers and yet, you still felt those same emotions while you searched for him. You continue to cry quietly, letting the tears run freely down your face as you watch over him.

You’re unable to stop yourself from thinking the worst. Sure, you are superheroes but that doesn’t mean you are invisible to danger or death. As your eyes remain on Miguel’s sleeping face, your chest feels heavy at the brief thought of something worse happening to him, making your eyes tear up more. You cry quietly, covering your mouth until you calm down.

You sniffle once your tears slow down and blame it on your lack of sleep and the adrenaline completely leaving your body now. You dry your face and breathe in before exhaling softly. The last thing you want is for someone to see you like this. You check your gizmo, reading the time. It’s past 5:30 A.M. and when you look towards the windows from your spot, you see the first signs of daylight.

Miguel made it to another day.

You turn back to Miguel. He’s still sleeping with his head resting against soft pillows. The sight of Miguel in a hospital gown feels so wrong. It’s still strange to see him in anything other than his suit as you’ve only ever seen him in normal clothes three times: Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Years Eve. As you watch over him, your eyes land on his arms. It seems that the grey hospital gown is a bit tight as the sleeves hug his large biceps but despite that, he looks relaxed with his arms at his sides, hands curled softly.

You observe his sleeping figure, eyes tracing his arms down to his large hands. Your eyes then flicker to his bare neck and part of his collarbone where you spot a small piece of gauze taped to his skin with medical tape. You wonder just how many of those he has on his torso on top of the large wounds. You sigh deeply as you continue to watch over Miguel, wishing that this hadn’t happened.

You feel a shiver run through your body, feeling slightly cold when the AC turns on. You look at the end of the bed and find a folded blanket. You get up and grab it, laying it over Miguel’s body gently. You bring it up to his neck, making sure to cover his arms which you imagine might get cold. You stand over him, staring at him for a few seconds before you walk to the windows to stretch your legs.

You cross your arms across your chest. It’s still raining, and the sky is beginning to brighten though it remains grey and cloudy because of the weather. You spot more traffic now, too. The city is slowly waking up as you stare out for a few minutes. You turn back around and lean on the windows as you take a quick glance around the room for the first time. The appearance of the room was the last thing on your mind when you first came in and even now you just briefly scan the room. You notice it’s very spacious with a sitting area for visitors to the right of the room when you enter. Across from it, on the other side of the door, there’s a room, which you suspect is the bathroom. You turn to your right now, noticing a screen displayed on the wall, facing Miguel. A TV, you realize before your eyes return to Miguel.

Your eyes flicker to the sitting area for visitors for a moment, making you think of his family. He has none left, like you. You sigh softly, remembering thoughts you used to have before joining the Spider Society. There were many times when you went out on patrols and sat on rooftops, observing the streets below when your mind took you to a depressing place after Peter’s death.

You wondered many times what would happen the day you die. You have no family and you cut ties with friends from your universe. You quit your job, so you didn’t even have colleagues. No one would go look for you if something happened to you. No one would claim you as family.

It was scary and depressing to think of this and so you pushed it away and hoped each time that one day you’d have someone – anyone – in your life. Someone who could say something about you. You hoped that it wouldn’t be so lonely then, at least not the way it felt when you arrived home with cuts and bruises that you had to tend to by yourself after Peter’s death. No longer did you fall into Peter’s arms, who held you for a few seconds before he sat you down to clean and tend to your wounds, comforting you with his gentle voice and touch.

As you stare at Miguel and think about this and the fact that Miguel has no family either, you’re glad that Jess assigned you to do this, though you realize you would’ve requested to do it regardless. The idea of anyone waking up alone in a hospital room depresses you and that feeling only intensifies as you think of Miguel, the man that longed for a family so much he inserted himself in another universe to fulfill that dream when he had a chance.

Only to lose it.

You shake your head softly, still staring at him. You’ve never wished this much for someone to be happy like you’ve done towards Miguel. You hope one day he can move forward. That one day, life will treat this man better. This man that deserves so much more but who has lost so much.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters softly.

You straighten up and walk over to him, standing by his side. Miguel is still sleeping but his brows are furrowed as he mutters Gabriella’s name again. You stand there, not knowing what to do. Your hands wish to reach for his to comfort him, but you’re still set on respecting his wish of no physical touch, so you settle with placing them near his hand instead.

“Gabi.”

Your eyebrows lower and knit together in sadness as you hear Miguel call for Gabriella again.

“Miguel,” you say softly, not sure it’ll even help. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters, moving his head slightly against the pillows.

You watch his face as a heavy feeling overwhelms your chest, wishing you could do more. Miguel grows restless, moving his head more. You notice that his hands also begin to move under the blanket you covered him in. It takes you a few seconds to see that the blanket seems stuck to his hands. You pull the blanket off him gently from your side to see his hand, finding his extended talons stuck to the fabric. You have no other choice but to pull the blanket off him gently, successfully freeing his talons. You look down at them for a second, seeing them for the first time outside of the suit before you return your gaze to Miguel’s face.

“Miguel,” you say. “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

Miguel continues to move restlessly, and you fear that he’ll hurt himself in the process, so you do the one thing you think of. You take his hand softly in your own and squeeze gently, whispering softly that everything is alright. You feel his hand move slightly in yours, causing you to feel one of his talons against your hand. You feel some pain even through your suit, but you push past it and continue to hold his hand, talking to him even though you’re sure he can’t hear you.

You watch helplessly as tears gently begin to roll down Miguel’s face as he continues to call for Gabi.

“Mija.”

You hold his hand in yours as he cries in his sleep, occasionally feeling his talons dig into your skin softly. You softly whisper reassuring words, hoping it will cease his crying as the sight devastates you to your core, but he grows restless, and the heart monitor begins to warn about his heart. You look up, noticing his heart rate is increasing rapidly. You rush to the door and yell for the doctor, full of worry.

/\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\ _ _ _ _ _ _ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

Miguel stands in front of his penthouse’s windows, looking out. The sky is a light blue, and the sun is shining brightly, illuminating the entire place. His eyes take in the sight of distant skyscrapers below soft clouds in the sky. Cars fly in the distance. The city is busy as always. He stands there for what feels like minutes watching in silence before it’s broken.

“Hermano.”

Miguel turns around instantly at the sound of his brother’s voice. He finds him standing a few feet away from him.

“Gabrielito?” Miguel says softly, feeling shocked to see him after so long.

Gabriel gives him that smile. That cheeky smile that got him in trouble too many times.

“It’s been a long time, hermano,” Gabriel says before making his way to Miguel, who finds himself meeting Gabriel halfway.

The O’Hara brothers embrace each other in the older brother’s living room. Miguel holds his much smaller brother tightly, not quite believing that this is happening. Gabriel is here.

“It’s been a long time,” Miguel agrees, still hugging his younger brother.

The O’Hara brothers pull back and Miguel can’t help but smile at his younger brother as he takes in the sight of Gabriel’s face. He doesn’t seem older despite the years.

“Miguel – it’s so good to see you again, hermano,” Gabriel says laying a hand on Miguel’s bicep. “Look at you. You look well! Though, do I spot a grey hair from here?” Gabriel teases, making Miguel frown.

“Very funny, Gabriel.”

“You know I’m just playing but if you keep going like this, you’ll start seeing them,” Gabriel warns.

“If I keep going like this?” Miguel asks, his frown deepening.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Working all day and night. No sleep except for once a week or those random naps you take, which don’t help by the way. Your eating habits. It’s too much on your body, despite being a superhero.”

Miguel doesn’t respond. Gabriel’s face softens.

“Hermano, you can’t keep going like this. It’s painful to watch, you know. You deserve so much more from life, Mig.”

Miguel looks away. “Gabriel – you don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“I do know… and I’m not here to judge you. I could never but I’m worried about you. I’ve been for a long time. Miguel – you have so much life ahead of you. It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You deserve to be happy and not waste your life away working day and night because you think that’s all your life is meant for. It’s not. And I’m not the only one who agrees, by the way.”

Miguel turns his face back to Gabriel, raising an eyebrow with curiosity as his younger brother’s words sink in.

“There’s someone that wants to see you,” Gabriel says softly with a gentle smile before he nods behind Miguel.

Miguel turns around, not knowing what to expect but there they are. He finds his wife, who smiles brightly at him and Gabriella, in the arms of his variant, Gabriella’s biological father, standing there. Miguel freezes, feeling a rush of mixed emotions at the sight but it all fades away when Gabriella jumps out of the arms of her biological father and runs to him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Miguel feels his heart burst with happiness at the sight of her running to greet him. He drops to his knees and opens his arms wide just as Gabriella runs into him. He instantly wraps his arms around her, unable to believe that he’s holding her again. Gabriella wraps her arms around his neck, happy to see him.

“Mija,” Miguel mumbles as tears pool around his eyes, spilling almost immediately down his face as he holds Gabi close.

“Daddy, it’s okay. Please don’t cry. I’m okay,” Gabi says softly, trying to calm Miguel down but he’s unable to stop the tears and the gentle shaking of his chest as he holds his daughter once again.

“Mija,” he repeats, closing his eyes as he embraces his daughter.

“It’s okay, daddy. Please don’t cry. I hate to see you cry,” Gabi tells him, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. “I hate seeing you unhappy. You should be happy. You deserve it.”

Miguel shakes his head softly. “Mija… you don’t understand.”

But Gabi pulls back gently, meeting her father’s eyes. “I do. I know everything – and it’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry,” she says gently, sounding much older than she looks.

Miguel’s teary eyes meet his daughter’s as the truth sinks in. Gabi knows. Miguel looks up at his variant, who stands nearby. Miguel clears his throat, feeling shame and guilt as he meets the other Miguel’s eyes. He returns his gaze to Gabi and gives her a hug before he stands up, holding her in his arms. He approaches the other Miguel, looming over him. He gives a quick glance to his wife, who nods at him, as if she knows that he needs to have this discussion first before talking to her.

Miguel looks down at his variant and gives him an apologetic look.

“Miguel – I’m so sorry for – everything,” Miguel begins softly. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

Miguel expects his variant to respond negatively. To tell him off about pretending to be the father of his daughter. For trying to live his life. For not telling the truth to Gabi. For everything else he did that he cannot bear to think about now, but his variant surprises him with a sad smile.

“I know why you did it. I understand it. And I’m not mad…” Miguel’s variant starts, meeting his eyes. “You did something for me that I’ll never be able to repay.”

Miguel furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting this reaction from his variant. He feels Gabi hug him as his variant continues.

“Had you not done what you did – Gabi’s life would’ve been very different those months you spent with her. You know very well what would’ve happened,” his variant continues, alluding to the fact that Gabi turned into an orphan and would’ve been placed in an orphanage had Miguel not stepped in. “For that – I thank you deeply. And of course, for being her father,” he finishes softly, acknowledging that Miguel is Gabi’s father as well.  

Miguel nods slowly, feeling tears again but Gabi swipes them away.

“It’s okay, daddy. You don’t need to cry anymore, right, papá?” Gabi asks, turning to face her biological father, who nods. “We’re all okay here.”

Miguel nods at Gabi, holding her in his arms before he turns to his variant. “Thank you,” he whispers and his variant nods, giving him that same sad smile.

Miguel continues to hold Gabi, feeling like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. For so long he has carried shame and guilt over what he did but his variant and Gabi were forgiving of his actions. “Thank you,” Miguel whispers again, as Gabi holds him tighter, reminding Miguel how it felt to hold his child. Soft tears run down his face even when he turns to his wife who has been watching, waiting.

“I..,” Miguel trails off, not knowing how to continue for he has thought about her and their relationship a lot in the last few months.

He feels a different kind of shame washing over him. The more time passed, the more Miguel realized how differently he wished things had been. He had fallen in love too fast, wanting to fulfill his dream of having a family and he felt like he dragged her into it. He felt like he rushed her into marriage, but his wife meets his eyes with tenderness and nods.

“Miguel…” she says with a sigh. “We both made that decision. You didn’t rush me into anything I didn’t want to, but we did rush into it, didn’t we?” she asks softly with a small smile, taking his hand in hers. “We both wanted a family so badly and perhaps – perhaps we both sensed it would end soon and that’s why we held on to it so badly.”

She holds his hand and squeezes it gently, reassuringly, as she steps closer.

“I love you. And I know you love me, too… but our love was different, wasn’t it?” she asks softly. “Perhaps we could’ve really fallen in love if we had the time…” she continues. “But we didn’t and that’s okay, Miguel. I don’t hold that against you. We both wanted it badly and made the decision, so please stop carrying this guilt, okay? Miguel, por favor, live your life. For our sake,” she says softly, pausing. “Don’t you think it hurts us to see you like this?” she asks, looking at the others. “It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You’re so full of life, wasting it all living like this when there’s so many people out there to meet and befriend… to love. You have amazing people by you, don’t be afraid to show them the wonderful man you are.”

Miguel nods softly though the idea alone seems strange. He feels Gabi shift in his arms slightly, looking behind him.

“I just – I don’t know how to do this again. Losing you, all of you, has been too much,” he admits.

“But you haven’t lost us, hermano,” Gabriel says coming from behind, giving him a side hug. Miguel turns to look down at his younger brother again. “We’re always with you. Even if you don’t believe it or sense us, we’re always there. In every mission. In every universe. Every day and sleepless night.”

“You’re just too busy sometimes to sense us, daddy but we watch over you,” Gabi adds with her toothy smile. “We’re with you always. We visit you all the time, which reminds me - I loved my pancakes and the toys you gave me. Papá and I played a match with the new soccer ball you left for me on Dia de los Muertos. Thank you for leaving my favorite candy, too.”

Miguel cries softly and holds Gabi tighter in his arms. “You…” he attempts but is unable to finish his thought about them visiting him that night.

“We’re always with you,” his wife confirms with a smile meeting his eyes but she, too, looks behind him for a second.

He feels Gabi shift again, looking behind him. “She’s calling you,” she says softly.

Miguel dries his face with the sleeves of his shirt. “Who?” he asks, confused.

“You know who,” Gabriel says with a small smile. “You know exactly who. Miguel – you have a long life ahead of you. Make it count,” he whispers. “Leave a legacy that’s far greater than your leadership. Far greater than your duty and work. Live life, hermano. I know it’s not easy and we don’t expect you to move forward overnight but try. Try for us in the beginning until you find it in you to do it for yourself. Just try,” Gabriel says softly.

Miguel nods with tears. “I’ll try, Gabrielito. I’ll try.”

Gabriel smiles. “It’s been great seeing you, Miguelito.”

“Don’t call me that,” Miguel says but he says it with a smile.

“For old time’s sake, hermano,”Gabriel says and wipes his own tears away. “It’s been really great seeing you, but you must return now.”

“Return?” Miguel asks confused, still holding Gabi in his arms.

“You’ve been away too long, daddy. You must go back now. It’ll be alright,” Gabi says with a smile.

Everyone turns to look behind Miguel. He doesn’t know what they keep looking at.

“I don’t want to leave…” Miguel says softly, holding Gabi closer.

“Miguel – you must. It’s not time yet. And she’s calling you,” his wife says.

“Who’s calling me?” he asks.

His wife smiles and shakes her head. “One of the brightest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t see it, do you?”

Miguel stares at his wife before he meets the other two adults’ gazes. He realizes it. He must go. He nods slowly and holds Gabi for a minute longer, closing his eyes. Gabi hugs him tighter.

“There’s nothing to forgive but I know you need to hear it, so I’ll say it. I forgive you…  You’ll always be my dad, no matter what,” she whispers, filling Miguel’s chest with ache and love all at once.

“Mija… Thank you,” Miguel breathes out gently.

He puts Gabi down, smiling down at her. He doesn’t understand it. She looks the same age she was when she passed away, but she sounds so much wiser. Like she knows more than he does. He pats her head softly before he meets his variant’s gaze.

“Thank you again…”

His variant nods, giving him a gentle smile.

Miguel’s eyes turn to his wife, who’s already looking at him. She nods softly.

“We’ll see you when it’s your time,” she says before she takes his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing it.

Finally, Miguel turns to Gabriel.

“It’ll be alright, hermano. We’ll see you when it’s time. And don’t forget we’re always with you,” he says as Gabi leans on him. Miguel watches his brother pick up Gabriella, holding her in his arms. “It’s time.”

Miguel nods before he gives his brother and Gabriella a hug, wrapping his long arms around them. He pulls his wife into it, too. He ends up offering his hand to his variant, inviting him into the hug. At the end of the day, they were linked. Forever.

His variant accepts his hand and gives him a nod, joining the moment.

They pull apart a few seconds later, giving Miguel space. He stares at them as they stand side by side, his brother still holding Gabi. They smile at him and give him reassuring nods. Miguel nods just as his variant walks closer to him, separating from the group as if to talk with him in private.

“Before you go… I want to tell you that I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago, really. I thank you for being a father to Gabi, for treating her the way I would’ve and know that in her eyes and mine, you are a father to her. I also want to tell you… that you have a chance, Miguel. Take it,” his variant says softly. “Our lives have never been easy, and you know that, but one thing I learned when I was alive was that sometimes all you need is a small purpose to keep you going,” his variant says briefly looking back at Gabi. “And I don’t mean work, for we both know what that does to us. Find the true purpose. Keep going. Live life. Accept those that wish to be near you,” he says, laying a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “You’re worthy of it, don’t forget that.”

Miguel nods. “Thank you, Miguel.”

His variant nods, giving him a smile before he returns to the group. Miguel watches them for a few seconds.

“Go on, daddy! You must return now,” Gabi says looking behind him.

“She’s still calling you,” Gabriel adds but Miguel still doesn’t know who is calling him.

Miguel turns around. He’s no longer met with the view of his large windows facing the city, instead all he sees is a warm light. He turns back around.

“I’ll see you again, right?” he asks, quietly.

His family nods.

“Of course, and we’ll be ready for that day when it comes, hermano but that day is not today. For now, just now we’re always with you,” Gabriel says. “And I don’t mean to rush you, but you should really get back now.”

Miguel nods once again and before he leaves, he walks the short distance and gives everyone a last hug, squeezing Gabi and Gabriel tighter. He returns to his spot and nods. It’s time. He waves goodbye before he turns around to face the light. He walks into it, seeing nothing but light and when he looks behind his shoulder, he sees his family wave goodbye one last time. Miguel’s heart aches as he walks away but there’s also a lightness that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _/\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\  \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

“It’s okay, Miguel,” you shakily whisper as Miguel mumbles something in his sleep.

You watch him with your tear-stained face after what happened. The last thirty minutes were overwhelming to say the least. You try to forget it for now but you’re unable to put away the worry and stress of what you witnessed. As Miguel mumbles in his sleep again, you release a shaky breath.

Miguel’s heartbeat gave up for a few minutes and all you could do was watch and call his name helplessly as the medical professionals resuscitated him. You stand by his side now, thankful but still on edge as Miguel moves his head slightly.

“It’s alright. Everything is alright,” you whisper as he moves.

You notice his eyebrows furrowing as he mumbles yet something else, but his words are incoherent. You watch as his eyes move under his eyelids before they begin to flutter as if he’s waking up. You hold your breath, as it slowly becomes apparent his eyes are opening. Miguel looks around the hospital room slowly as if trying to figure out where he’s at before they fall on you.

“Y/N…” he whispers softly.

________________________

*Translation for italicized Spanish words:* Mierda - shit Mija - my daughter Hermano - brother Papá - dad Por favor - please Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Death ___

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this part despite the angst. The next part will contain more fluff, promise 🥹 can we just talk about reader giving Miguel her gizmo??? 😭 I don't know why but that made me so sad and that probably sounds stupid since I wrote it but anyway... I still love Miguel ❤️

-Alondra

Tag list:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

[shalomniscient]

HI! i’ve been noticing a LACK of deren content so….can i request filmed sex with dom! deren??

anon i must preface this by saying i started playing after deren's event so i know roughly nothing about her but i did my best to research how she's like through info on s1ns so if this is ooc i'm so so sorry (i know i could watch recordings of the event. but my attention span... is sadly not robust enough 😔😔😔)

video star || deren x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. strap-ons, overstimulation, squirting, filming (consensual)

notes. it's kind of.......... generic. sorry anon 😔😔😔

"C'mon baby, look at the camera, yeah?"

Deren's voice is floaty, barely able to be registered by you as she fucks into you, thick strap bullying into your tight, clenching cunt. One of your ankles rests on her shoulder, your entire leg braced against her body, while the other lies limp on the edge of the bed. The position allows the camera to clearly see the way your pretty pussy stretches to accommodate the thick toy. Your hands are bound above your head, tied in delicate knots to the headboard.

Deren herself stands between your thighs, and the only thing on her skin is the harness of the strap-on she has buried balls-deep inside of you. She holds onto your leg with one hand, while the other holds the camera she's using to film all your sweet little reactions as she fucks you silly.

Blearily, you open your eyes, and look into the camera lens. Deren's grip on your leg tightens by a fraction when she notices the tears in your lash line, and the way you bite your lip. She zooms in on your fucked-out expression, eyeliner runny and smudged, and snaps her hips harder against you, for once not feeling lazy like she normally is. Instead, her blood runs hot in her veins—a frenzy like Mania bubbling in her core.

"Shit, baby—so pretty like this, hm?" Deren breathes, leaning forward to get a close up on your face as you throw your head back, mouth opening wide as pleasure jolts your body. She thrusts deep with each roll of her hips, and you squirm on the bed, near delirious with pleasure. "My little video star."

"'s too much," you whimper, hands scratching at the ropes binding your wrists, "'s too much, can't cum anymore—"

"Shh," Deren soothes, releasing your leg to cup your face and wipe the tears from your eyes. "You can give me one more, right? I know you can. Be my good girl and give me just one more, baby, for the camera."

You sob as Deren speeds up her thrusts, the wet sounds of her fucking into you ruthlessly echoing throughout the room. She shifts back to her original position, moving the camera away from your face and down to your sopping pussy, zooming in on the way her strap appears and disappears, slick and shining when it catches the light. Her free hand goes to further part your folds, exposing your stiff clit, which she starts to rub roughly with her thumb.

You squeal and your hips buck at the sensation, your leg kicking out. Deren remains unfazed, playing your body like a god damn instrument as she directs it to what's undoubtedly about to be a mind-shattering orgasm for you. The camera shakes with her movement, and the footage is going to be barely usable by her standards, but Deren can hardly care right now, not with the way you writhe on the bed and cry her name like that.

When you finally topple off that knife's edge of pleasure, you do so with a scream, your legs locking around Deren's waist. Your cunt flutters and squeezes around her, as if sucking her in, and with a few more harsh flicks to your clit you squirt streams of clear slick all over the director's abdomen. She sucks in a breath, slowing her hips as you ride it out. Some of your squirt lands on the camera lens, creating a glossy sheen on the footage.

It's absolute fucking cinema.

You babble and sob incoherently, and Deren finally starts to slow down, before stopping completely. She sets the camera down, still recording, and leans down to kiss you softly, her large hands wiping the tears from your eyes. "Such a good performance, baby," she praises, and she means it.

Oh, she's definitely doing this with you again.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

FIRST PLACE part 3

pairings: Xavier thorpe x Fem!reader summary: hating each other doesn't really work out when there's different feelings hiding beneath it. warning: swearing, them being assholes to each other. note: reader is Wednesday's cousin. again. pretty long. I told myself this would be the last part but I got carried away. sooooo part 4 tomorrow so comment if you would like to be tagged in that

part 1 part 2 part 4

Xavier's POV

"Y/n!" I knocked on her window "can we talk"

the lights were off but there was noise coming from inside

"you can't ignore me forever" I sighed.

the window was slightly open so I took my chance and pushed it open more. climbing into her room.

I looked around and walked to her desk. looking at the statue of a frog playing an instrument. It was an odd concept but it seemed like something she would like, I picked it up and examined it closer until I heard footsteps coming to the door, I quickly put the frog down and made my way out the window again.

---

"you snuck into my room" you said walking up to Xavier

"what?" he questioned, Looking at you confused

"you broke into my room last night" you stated

"no I didn't" he denied quickly

"there's no point in lying, Xavier. there's proof. you're an amateur in that department"

"what proof do you have then?" he asked, getting annoyed

you pulled out a little zip-lock bag with a single hair in it

"is that a strand of hair?" Xavier spoke surprised and shocked

"a strand of your hair, yes" you nodded

"that could be anyone's hair" he defended himself

"It could've been, that's why Wednesday got it tested" you insited

"what the hell do you mean you got it tested?" he replied

"i think you know what it means" you huffed

"you're insane"

"I got to my room last night only for my room to smell like you, I find my frog in the wrong place and a single hair my floor. not to mention my window was an inch more open than when I left it. and when I looked out of it, I find that you're not at you painting on the wall, but your supplies are" you investigated "care to explain why?"

"again, you're insane" he scoffed

"no, I'm just observant" you spoke dully

"right, ok" he rolled his eye

"why were you in my room?" you demanded an answer

"I wanted to talk to you" he shrugged

"what is so important to tell me that you had to break into my room?" you huffed, crossing you arms

"wel- how do you know what I smell like?" he trailed off

"what?" you furrowed your eyebrows

"you said you got to your room and noticed it smelt like me. how do you know what I smell like?" he smirked

"because it smelt shit just like you"

"are you sure about that?" he chuckled

"I'm certain" you said before you turned away.

as you walked off, you and Xavier both took a deep breath and gulped.

---

During Outreach day, you snuck away from your group to go to the cafe

"what do you want?" Xavier asked

"A coffee, that's what everyone comes in here for" you told him simply

"what type of coffee?" he sighed

"one without your spit in it" you shrugged

"why would I spit in your coffee?" he shook his head in disappointment

"I don't know, the look on your face said it"

"what coffee would you like?" he questioned

"maybe a frappe" you said, looking at the menu at the top

"maybe? it's a yes or a no" he huffed, getting impatient

you smiled sarcastically "first of all, you're not getting a tip anymore. and yes, I'll have a coffee frappe"

"7.50"

you gave him the money and walked to your table. looking out the window to the street

you pulled out your phone and scrolled through pages, seeing Enid's page was updated with the latest 'gossip'

it was a photo of two people taken from a distance, you couldn't recognise the people in the photo so you read the description

'these two seem to talk a bit too much for them to be just enemies' it read

it was only posted a minute ago, with only one like and a single comment

as you looked at the comments under it you saw a comment from Xavier

'Enid take this down right now'

it was until then that you noticed it was you and Xavier in the photo

"here's your Coffee frappe without spit" Xavier put down the drink

"thanks" you mumbled

you messaged Enid, telling her to take the post down as soon as possible, not even a second later she gave in and said she would take it down. you thanked her and put your phone away, taking a sip of your drink.

----

"what the hell are you doing?" Xaviers voice called out from the rain. you looked up at him to see him with an umbrella

"why are you here?" you glared at him

"Wednesday told me you planned on going around here." he explained

"that doesn't answer my question" you blinked blankly

"just get under the umbrella" he moved closer to you, trying to get you under the purple umbrella with him

"I don't need protection from the rain" you stated

"I don't want you to get sick" he pleaded

"since when do you care if I get sick or not?" you investigated

"fine" he grumbled

"what's wrong with you?" you rebuked

"nothing?"

"stop. you've been acting weird lately and I don't like it" you spat

"what do you want from me?" he quizzed

"to act like you did before, like you hate and not care about me" you declared

"I do hate you" he nodded his head

"that's not what logic says" you pointed out

"what logic?" he retorted

"you have a drawing of me in your notebook, you're always around me now and you kissed me the other day" you announced "any logical person would say that you have feelings for me, but I refuse to be under your trap"

"trap? what trap!?" he said loudly

"the one where you think you can trap me into thinking I don't hate you" you explained

"you're insane! you know that? I'm basically serving my feelings to you on a silver platter here and you say I'm trapping you?" he yelled at you

"yes, that is what I said" you nodded

"what is wrong with you?!" he screamed as the rain got heavier

you stayed silent, you didn't want to answer him anymore so you just stared at him blankly.

"I could ask the same question" you mumbled, walking past him

----

It was quiet in the quad as you stared at the boy from afar.

he was oblivious to you behind him as he painted the wall

"I hate you" you must of scared him for a second time and made him mess up for the second time

"oh yeah? care to share why that is?" he huffed, mad at you

"you are an asshole"

"yeah? you're not the nicest person either" he rolled his eyes

"I have done nothing to you!" you yelled at him

"is that really what you believe in your twisted little mind?" he growled. putting his paintbrush down and backing you up into a pillar

"It's not a belief, It's a fact" you corrected

"you know what else is a fact?" he took a short pause, not caring for your answer "you're being a bitch"

"I've always liked dogs" you glared at him

"you can't be serious? I tell you I like you and you just walk away like I don't matter. Like my feelings don't matter!" he yelled "and the sad part is that you don't even care, you think you're treating me fairly!"

"I hate you, how else am I supposed to treat someone I hate?" you questioned

"yeah, right, why do you hate me again? because you're afraid of showing your emotions? afraid of the true feelings you have for me?" he laughed dryly

"you scared me" you stated

"I scared you" he chuckled, licking his lips while looking down at his feet, he shook his head amused as his dimples became more defined

"that's pathetic. I scared you one time and you hate my guts and torture me for years? I apologised for doing it a million times!" he yelled hysterically

"why are you so mad?"

"I was trying to impress you! I have always tried impressing you but you don't get it. you just flip out. I was excited to show you what I could do. I didn't draw or animate for months after that. you hurt my feelings and you didn't even care!" he shouted

"why should I care?" you grilled

"do you seriously have no emotions or feelings whatsoever? it is so pathetic how little empathy you have for others." he scoffed

"feelings are a waste of time and emotions show weakness" you explained dully

"you are" he took a deep breath "a horrible person"

"I'm trying to not hurt your feelings" you said

"you already did! did you seriously think you can treat me like shit and not hurt my feelings!?" he screamed, running his hands down his face in frustration.

"it's not my fault I can't interpret you're emotions, it's nothing personal." you shrugged

"No, it never is with you, is it?! and you can't even apologise, you just come out with an excuse! I'm done with your bullshit. I should've been done a long time ago" he sighed angrily, hitting the pillar he had you against

"why haven't you sooner?"

"Because I love you!" he disclosed loudly "it's kind of hard to just forget those types of feelings for a person and leave"

"you should've told me" you swallowed a lump in your throat

"why do you think I came to your room that night, and even if I did you would've turn me down. every. single. time" he smiled sadly

you didn't know what to say. you couldn't form words. you didn't love emotions, but you couldn't stop them, it was a human right to have feelings.

"I'll see you around, Y/L/N"

he walked away from you one last time.

------------------------------------------------

taglist: THERE ARE SO MUCH OF YOU I SWEAR

@apollo3475 @jiyaisdope @ihrtsabrinaclaudio @kpop-core @xavi-thpe @sammarvel123 @1201pm @ur-mom-is-h0t @barryswifey @ilovethesmiths111 @honey-with-tea @l-3rk @meankim @your-left-sock @thorpin @gx0sty @yayaistime @ygyofoyyxo @users09 @meme-queen-1999 @czeniess @gutterrataesthetic @parkersmyth @absurd-raven @lnnlove @aureliapappa @idccc @sstilinski @beautifuldisasters-things @gengen64 @issy1554 @mxltifxnd0m @spooky-bitch420 @dyhlanobrien @pauphs @soobin-my-beloved @herejustforjj @lovurryy @diorheaven @karagrace @pepswag10 @pockeymcmockey @mogli-bear @finnwantsmefr @ttayl0rswift @error404-energynotfound @renn-pumkin-head @lieutenant-roos @satan1cwh0r3 @sanzusmile @harrys3rdnipp @theprettytragic @aunicornmademedoit @dahliamae @mxgvmiii

I hope I got everybody! I'm sorry if i got everyone! there was so many of you I had to get through.

[madaboutmunson]

Corroded Coffin are rehearsing a new, extremely thrashy, purely instrumental song. 

Eddie said it didn't need words. They wouldn't do it justice. This was a song that should "Punch you through your chest, grab your spine and tear your skull right out," or at least that's what Eddie said it should do.

Eddie has already nailed the lead, and rhythm guitar parts, essentially thunderous, chugging, down-picked power chords, and a face-melting, ear-splitting solo that sounds like the guitar is howling in pain, screaming.

Gareth and Jeff try their best to replicate the beat Eddie is tapping out and the sounds he's making, and they match it precisely every time.

That's just what you had to get good at real fast when playing with Eddie. He might write down ideas and lyrics, but the music itself...forget about it.

"No. No. No!" Eddie throws himself backward over the empty beer crate in frustration. "Guys, I know it's not you. It's not right. I can't convey what is in my head. I just..." Eddie looks thoughtfully out of the garage, frowning slightly, trying to figure it out.

"How about me and Gareth put our thinking caps on and try to come up with a few things similar to what we already played," Jeff suggests brightly, turning back to Gareth on the kit, who already looks close to exhausted. They had been going at the song all afternoon.

Eddie leaps out of his seat, "What time is it?" he says with urgency looking intensely at Gareth.

"Time you gotta-" Gareth starts before getting cut off by Eddie running around and grabbing his wrist.

"Ok, ok!" Eddie runs into the house.

The band listens at the door.

"Henderson?...*mumbling*...Uh-huh...I just want your opinion on it...oh, I see...noooo, sorry my dude, I can't...oh, he can?...I guess...ok, cool, later" Even though Eddie had made the call to Dustin, his tone was like he was trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

The jangling of chains indicates Eddie is running back to the garage and everyone scrambles back to their original, casual positions.

Eddie bursts back through the door, a wicked grin on his face, "The answer is on the way. Just follow my lead. I need you to say absolutely nothing about it. Just listen and play, alright?"

The band nods. Everyone in Corroded Coffin had their turn to present songs to the band, and each had displayed their fair share of theatrics in rehearsal, so this kind of display wasn't unusual. But this was an Eddie epiphany, and these tended to be the most dramatic. Jeff and Gareth smile at one another knowingly. He had been working on his song since the hospital. He said it was inspired by something he saw when he was on the run.

"How about we take a break, huh?" Eddie says, producing a grocery bag of drinks and snacks for the band, "Take a short rest to max out HP before round 2, yeah?" Eddie unleashes his most charming smile, and of course, the band agrees, even though the practice had already overrun by about an hour.

Twenty minutes later, the familiar BMW rolls up on the driveway. 

Dustin stumbles out of the car in his hurry and rushes towards the band, "So let's hear it!" He's totally hyped about being chosen for an opinion on a Corroded Coffin song.

"Yeah, in a minute..." Eddie says, watching the car.

Steve Harrington emerges, nods a greeting at everyone, and the look on his face reads whatever it was, he was over it. He leans back on the hood of his car, arms folded, and waits, occasionally checking his nails or looking around with a bored expression.

Eddie puts down his guitar and walks into the house.

Dustin stands gobsmacked, gesturing with his hands at the spot Eddie was just standing in and turning around, looking completely lost, to the other band members for answers, but they only have shrugs.

Moments later, Eddie re-emerges, but he's sneaking up behind the car. Something in his hands. Some kind of rubber bat or something. He pulls back his arm and throws it at Steve with all his might.

Steve almost leaves his body for a second when this thing makes contact with the side of his face. He hurriedly grabs it and rips it apart. Eddie is standing there, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape.

Then, Steve looks into his hands and turns to Eddie, looking less than impressed. Eddie is snickering, no, he's giggling, and walking backwards into the garage as Steve berates him, hand on hip, accusing finger pointing at a grinning Eddie.

Eddie circles around the drum kit, Steve still pacing after him, and he grabs Gareth's hand and puts it to his chest.

Gareth smiles, "Oooooh, I'm gonna need the double kick pedal for this one" Jeff raises his eyebrows and rushes to get it for him, and sets it up while Gareth can't move.

Eddie is still grinning wildly as Steve lectures him on the dangers of scaring someone who has nearly died on numerous occasions.

Dustin still looks absolutely bewildered until Gareth's sticks smack the skins of his drums, and the double kick pedals against the bass drum start to drown Steve out, even though he's still trying to make himself heard.

"Oh fuck yeah!!" Eddie shouts, "That's fucking it" Jeff follows the rhythm on the bass and starts to move around the notes for the scale in the designated key.

"This is heavy as fuck!!" Dustin shouts, causing Steve to focus on him and his foul language, leaving Eddie free to grab his guitar.

As Eddie swings his sweetheart around into position, he drops into a low rock stance, dragging his plectrum along the strings as he and the rhythm guitar play their parts over the new bass and drums.

The whole band is headbanging in unison, as is Dustin, and Steve gives up, shakes his head, and goes back to leaning against his car, tapping his watch at Dustin.

As Eddie launches into the solo, he runs up to the BMW and leaps onto the hood of it, and makes the guitar squeal. Steve is absolutely not ok with this in any way, he's yelling and waving his arms around, but all it does is make Eddie point his guitar at him as he plays and sticks his tongue out of his mouth like a demon.

Eddie jumps back down once the solo is over, leaving Steve to frantically search his car for something to clean the hood with.

Dustin, a little dazed from all the headbanging, is jumping up and down with the band as the song comes to a close.

"That beast is going in the set list, my dudes!" Gareth gets up from his kit and makes his way over to the wall set list, "Er…what's it called, Eddie?"

Eddie looks a little nervous, "Oh…er…I don't know…I hadn't thought of one yet" Dustin sees him sneakily try to slide a notepad off the crate and onto the floor. Dustin grins and intercepts it, and runs out of Eddie's reach before he can grab it 

Dustin raises his eyebrows at the pad and giggles, "No title, huh? What about this right here at the top of all your notes? Looks like a title to me" Dustin pokes at the pad with a big smile on his face.

"Er…well…that's just when I've been doodling when I'm thinking," Eddie says, trying his best to look unbothered, but he is edging his way towards Dustin and the notepad.

Dustin laughs again, "So are you saying you were just deep in thought, wistfully looking into the distance, absentmindedly doodling, and this is what was on your mind?" Dustin takes a few steps away again, noticing Eddie's subtle approach.

"No, absolutely not that, I just meant…er…it's a working title…yeah, that's it. Yep." Eddie tries again, but the stress is starting to show on his face. His mouth is tense, and his eye twitches a little, "So, if you'd kindly give it back, Dustin!"

Realising there is a joke happening he isn't the butt of, Steve peers over Dustin's shoulder to read the pad. All he says is, "Huh." He shakes his head, puts a hand on his hip, and approaches Eddie.

Eddie looks like a deer in headlights as Steve reaches for the pen sticking out of his mass of hair and returns to Dustin and the pad.

Steve smiles big and laughs, shaking his head, and glances up at Eddie. as he puts pen to pad, Steve says, "Sleeve has two e's in the middle, you silly goose!"

Steve looks proud. Eddie has never looked more relieved, and everyone else is looking at Steve in shock.

"What? It's an easy spelling mistake to make. Anyway, I've fixed it now. You're welcome." Steve says, looking around the garage with wide eyes because not one of these little shits said thank you.

Eddie walks over and smiles smugly at Dustin, taking back his pad, "Yes, thank you very much, Harrington. None of these goons spotted it"

"Anytime, Munson," Steve claps his hands together at Dustin, "Henderson, come on, the game is gonna start soon."

As Dustin gets into the car, Eddie gives them a little dainty finger wave, the smug grin still on his face. 

He's never been more grateful to have forgotten to cross a t in his life.

This song when Corroded Coffin make it big

AO3 Link

[cynarisgayass]

helloo! I have a req for the to scream or be silent. (I'm really sorry if u are already full of requests)

could you do Xiao and Scara/Wanderer (up to u!)?

I think it would be quite interesting to see what they'd do in this scenario

Thank you sm!

𓍊𓋼~To scream or be silent PT 3~𓋼𓍊

Type: Headcannons

Description: HELLOOO!! Dw, you're currently my only request so I'm happy to have you! Hope you don't mind I added Venti and I hope you like dis~ So for anyone who doesn't know, this is a series where genshin characters react to a reader who will go completely mute or talk 3,000 miles a minute. Mostly a comfort type of fic!

Part 1, Part 2

Rating: Comforting fluff

Reader: GN, Slight autism/adhd vibes

Includes: Wanderer/ Xiao/ and Venti

Wanderer:

To scream:

He can get a little overwhelmed when you're in a hyper state, maybe even a little annoyed, but he's trying his best to be better about it. It's not that you are actually what's bugging him, he's just not used to so much talking, he doesn't know how to react when you want to tell him every detail about a book you just read or a show you just finished. To him this is whole new territory that he's not really comforting with yet.

However, when he does find a way to sit and listen to you patiently and you give him that smile of finally being heard...he finds it very very cute. He'd never say it aloud though...

To be silent:

He's the king of the silent game, the second you no longer want to talk, he no longer wants to either. He may look grumpy while he sits across from you or lays in bed staring aimlessly at the ceiling, but this is the time you both use to unwind. He loves those moments with you because it calms him, calms both of you and it's easy. If you're hyper fixating, he's not far away, destressing about social interactions and classes at the academia. If you need a break from speaking cause you just can't anymore, he's feeling the same...and ever so often he lets you closer to him to cuddle, but it's so sappy to him that it only ever rarely happens. When it does though, it's very enjoyable.

Xiao:

To scream:

He's always happy to hear your voice, to hear that excited fast tone you get when you're talking about something you're currently obsessed with. For so long he'd gone without much conversation that now he craves it from you, to the point that he'd sit on the roof with you all night while you went on and on about everything. Till you eventually fall asleep on him that is, then he'd carry you to bed and hope you'd find him the next day to do it all over again.

To be silent:

He understands everyone needs a break from socialising sometimes, but he struggles with how big of a break you want. It's difficult for him when you're hyperfixated and he wants to know wether or not you want him nearby, he can't exactly ask because he doesn't want to disturb you. When you go mute just so you don't have to talk, he finds himself feeling awkward cause he's not sure if you want to be alone or not.

More often then not he's very gentle with his voice and movements, tiptoeing around you because he knows better then anyone that alone time is alone time. If you do initiate a cuddle when you're in a silent phase, he will gladly accept and pet your head to comfort you.

As a god he's met all different types of people and has came up with many a ways to make them feel cared for. You are no exception. The second you start telling him about about a song you've just heard that you're in love with, he will learn it just for you. Say you are obsessing over a new item you've just bought, he wants to know all about it. He gets just as happy as you, if not happier because he loves how bright your smile is.

Venti:

To scream:

To be silent:

Just as before, when someone's silent around him, he understands completely. He will get out his quietest instruments and provide gentle background music, improving on his lyrics or coming up with new tunes to play later, all while you're hyperfixated on something or another. He will sing you songs when you don't want to talk so you won't ever feel awkward about lack of noise. And when you truly want pure silence, he sits by you and holds your hand, letting the quiet settle in.

Felt a little extra sappy with this one hehe. Also 20 followers now!! Woohoo!!

[spencerreidsbookfairy]

“ you're here, why? 

“To talk”

Can't say  i didn't expect this, the songs aren't exactly discreet 

Were sitting here waiting for someone to say the first word

“ i came here to apologize for my friends actions, and mine we’ve been too ashamed and embarrassed to talk about what happened at the oscars we sort of acted like it never happened until your songs came out, but i miss you i can’t sleep without you,  miss you singing in my shower not knowing i can hear you”

  i can't help but smile at his confession 

“ are you sure your team isn't just too proud to say an official apology and not try and defend their actions like they did backstage at the oscars? Please Spencer, I don’t have time for bullshit.”

“Please, meet us at dinner tomorrow”

I shake my head “ cant, i have a show tomorrow at coachella”

“  we’ll be there. Dinner afterwards?”

To be petty or to be not to be petty

“  ill see.”

Its like i can physically see him relax after i said that

The next mid day

Did i maybe wait to perform a song specifically about the bau and theyre arrogance  

Yess????

Is this maybe adding fuel to the fire???

Most likely 

As i cheerly walk up on stage crowd loud as hell which is making me happy i walk up to the mic stand

“Hi coachella.”

The crowd erupts in cheers i see in the corner of my eye the team backstage on the side of me watching me and the crowd looking surprised at how loud they are 

‘’ I wanted to start this by singing an unreleased track called u.a.b.  Yes, i know its a weird name doesn't mean anything just wanted to be weird about it”

The crowd laughs…lets hope they don't spell that backwards and somehow crack the code name

The instrumental plays, i've been working hard on my high notes and riffs so lets hope this goes well.

Yeah, you really tried

But I was planted all the lies you told me, oh

All the shit you've done

You can't outrun the way you understand me

You acted like you bought me at a bargain sale

You don't even care

You focused your frustration on a small detail

Blew it out of scale, like my ponytail

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

And I'm taking it right back

 I'm no blow up doll, no free-for-all

No slave to your decision, ooh

Gotta find a way to break the spell

To get the hell away from those who block my vision

You used me as a fragment of your grand design, hey

And you, you don't get to put me on your bottom line

You don't get what's mine, and I'm doing fine

Wow, i've never hit a note that high in my entire life and the team looks incredibly shocked, i could laugh

Said you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why would I listen?

You don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, baby

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, hey

Taking it right back, baby

Taking it right back

 I did it. The crowd is happy im so proud of myself i walk off stage after finishing the rest of my songs 

Not even paying the team any mind i go to my management and friends getting water etc 

Spencer walks up to me  

“ that was amazing, genuinely unbelievable  you must be exhausted, are you sure you feel like going to that dinner?’’

Fuck

Fuck

FUCK 

I forgot about the dinner.

links to the other parts of famous!reader series!

https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752739792312320000/i-have-no-one-to-blame-but-you?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752706752752025600/you-made-me-miserable?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752661898593435648/apologize?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752629582800257024/opposites-dont-attract?source=share

[miguel-manbemel]

There's one thought that came to me today about Sanders Sides, and specifically the nature of the Sides. So many people have missed one important, crucial point about the Sides. They're not human, and I don't mean that they can shapeshift, appear and disappear and all that stuff. I mean that each of the Sides represents just one limited zone of c!Thomas' psyche, and therefore they're only confined to that zone of Thomas.

What does it mean to judge them as humans? It means many people demand of them the complexity of action humans have, the same capacity to grow and evolve as if they were a fully fledged human, and that, my friends, just cannot happen, because it's not in their nature. I'll try to explain my point. We've seen the Sides learn and grow from different situations they went through in the past, and I say "have we?"

Don't mean they didn't go through the situations, I mean, did they really get a long term growth? In some cases they did, in others, the growth was incomplete or null, because the Sides are only able to grow in their own area of action in Thomas' psyche, and will remain, not oblivious, but, like that student that simply doesn't get how to solve a problem at school, and tries and tries to solve it right, but it just doesn't stick in their head. They will only learn the part of the solution in their area of expertise, and the rest will simply not stick at all.

For instance, Virgil knows if he causes a panic attack, Thomas will suffer and that will help no one, but he just can't help it, it's in his nature to cause panic attacks if the conditions are met. Other example, Roman knows that too much fantasy can be harmful, it can disconnect you from reality and that can break Thomas' heart. He knows, he's been told, but he can't help it. He's literally Thomas' dreams. Same way, Patton cannot escape the morality he was created with during Thomas' growth, Janus can't help making Thomas deceitful, Remus will show his creative thoughts at all cost no matter how it makes Thomas suffer, and Logan will always have problems to put feelings in the equation when trying to find solutions to an issue.

Does that mean that the whole show is a lie and the Sides are hopeless beings that can't learn from their mistakes? Not entirely, because when they face issues, they all face them together as a team, they go through them together and find a global solution that can help Thomas grow.

Then why do they revert back after learning so much about Thomas in the past? As I said, any item the Sides are not capable to learn according to their nature will not fully stick and they'll be prone to repeat problematic attitudes, even if they try not to.

What can be done then? The solution comes from Thomas. The Sides are Thomas and Thomas is all of them, and most important, he knows, or is learning, how to combine the different aspects of himself. In another analogy, the Sides and Thomas are like an orchestra and the orchestra conductor. Each instrument has only access to their partiture and can only play their own sound, even if they know how they're all supposed to sound together, only Thomas has the full information of the song, and only he can tell any of the Sides when to play and when to stand back.

To be fair, Thomas still doesn't have the full partiture ready, he's still writing on the fly, that's why the song is incomplete and both the Sides and Thomas are still struggling, but as the series goes on, the song keeps writing itself, slowly but surely and when it's complete, Thomas will have the full song and will learn how to make their Sides sound perfect in harmony...

Well, most probably, the song will never be fully complete or perfect, but eventually it will reach a grade of completion enough to make Thomas and his Side harmonious enough to make good, melodious songs. That is, eventually, Thomas will know how to be the best of a person he can be, because no one is perfect, but he will learn how to feel good enough, and how to be happy with himself and get as best as he can be.

That means the Sides will learn how each can help the other Sides in the areas they lack expertise so they don't repeat the same mistakes from the past. But they must learn to work together to reach that goal, they can't do it each on their own. When they learn this ultimate lesson, everything will get better for Thomas and the Sides.

[kairiscorner]

four words

punk!miguel and reader

yes please 😋

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

punk!miguel x gn!reader headcanons

punk!miguel has two moods: being an annoying, cocky bastard and being an intimidating, more serious bastard.

punk!miguel loves towering over you. he enjoys smirking down at you and making you feel just how much smaller you are compared to him–it's not the feeling of being bigger than you that he likes, he craves to hear you cuss at him, and just seeing you get all furious at his teasing.

punk!miguel enjoys seeing you get all frustrated when he calls you those nicknames that just make you feel so... tiny when around him, like he's not taking you as seriously as he says he does: 'baby doll', 'mi chiquito/a', and of course...

"you're late to the action, my sweetest little gremlin." he cooed in a deep voice as he sauntered over to you all cocky, ripping his mask off from his head and shaking his unkempt hair. he smirked down at you and chuckled lowly as he bent down to your level. "what's the matter... pequeño/a? not too happy to see me?" he asked you as he placed his hand on your waist, feeling you squirm away from him and hearing you release those deliciously sweet little grumbles of frustration from your itty bitty mouth that sure knew how to complain a lot about him being a 'more powerful, capable spider person than you'... that can manage to piss you off beyond all comprehension.

"this was supposed to be a joint mission, o'hara." you remind him as miguel beat webbing up the anomaly and hoisting their unconscious self onto his shoulder, opening a portal up to HQ quickly as he turns to look at you with a shrug; his cocky smirk not leaving his face. "hey, chiquito/a, relax. it's not my fault your stubby little legs make you so slow that you gotta rely on a big, capable guy like me to help you out. ain't that right, my itsy, bitsy little spider?" he teases you as you huff, wanting to strangle him right now, but knowing that wouldn't solve anything, you kept your hands and anger to yourself. he chuckled, messing up your hair as he tousled it up with his free hand. "how adorable, see you back at HQ. that is, if you can keep up this time, cariño/a."

punk!miguel definitely plays music, preferably punk rock, but he prefers keeping that part of himself to himself. he's not embarrassed or anything, he's in fact, very confident in his music; the thing is, he wants to be better than he is already. he wants to make you stop and listen to his music, swoon to what he plays; and if he can't do that... then you won't get to see him play until you admit his talent's good enough to win you over.

punk!miguel likes teaching you how to play the electric guitar—he can play a bunch of other instruments too, though, like the acoustic guitar and such, but you were insistent on learning the electric guitar—and he loves feeling your soft, dainty little fingers underneath his longer, more calloused ones.

punk!miguel finds it so hot whenever you act all angry and take things in your own hands; he cheers for you whenever you silence everyone to alleviate the chaos, unironically.

punk!miguel would not hesitate going out, acting as your partner to protect you from people who think you're easy or soft. he hates it when people get that impression of you, but he's actually honored to get to know (and fall for) the real, raw you; one of the strongest spider persons in all of HQ, the most loving yet tough people he's ever met, and the only person who makes his heart beat for real, making him feel something other than it being a biological response.

"hey, now..." his low voice rumbled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he glared down at a few people who kept clamoring around you, trying to get your attention when you clearly weren't interested in any of them. "what do you assholes what with my chiquito/a, hmm?" he asked them in a deep voice as he moved in front of you, shielding you from them. he knew you could protect yourself from all kinds of anomalies and villains, but when it came to confrontation, you sometimes struggled telling strangers to go away when you weren't behind that mask you donned on. luckily for you... miguel's always eager to step up to protect you.

"what? not gonna say anything?" he asked them as he towered over them, feeling you cling on to his jacket, making him slightly flustered, but still seething with rage at how these people couldn't even comprehend what personal space and boundaries were. as they left one by one, he turned back to you with a softer expression, holding your hand that clung to his jacket. he smiled all sweetly and chuckled. "pretty good, no? that's the only good thing about looking so scary, you get a bodyguard as well as someone to help you through all the multiverse's endless caca storms." he says as you move closer to him, letting go of his jacket to wrap him in a hug, catching him by surprise. "what's all this now?" "thank you..." you whispered as you clung on to him tighter, making him choke on his words. he cleared his throat as he felt an even worse fluster afflict him, making him smile wider.

he covered his smile up with his hand and pat your back with his other free hand. "you're... welcome. all the time, you're welcome. but all this is only for you, though." he said, adding that last bit in a rushed whisper so you wouldn't hear it clearly. you wondered what he uttered at the end of that statement, but you didn't mind. you always felt so safe around miguel, no matter how rough, stubborn, intimidating, or rebellious he seemed; he was just a big, cuddly, spiky teddy bear that was eager to hug you back... and do more things with in private (though he wasn't opposed to doing it in private, you two had autonomy over your own bodies. so if you'd... let him... maybe...)

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[yuri-is-online]

Hi hope you have a nice day.

I’d like to request prompt 9 with azul , ace and epel

Please feel free to ignore this

9. You weren't technically invited to this event but it's a Masquerade! It's not like anyone will notice or care if you sneak in, so you do just that and find a really depressed friend of yours lamenting they won't get to dance with their crush.

My dear friend there is no need to be so shy, I asked for requests. You have no need to ask me to ignore you! Hold your head high, you are more than welcome here ⊂(・ヮ・⊂)

As a note I got a separate request for this prompt from Azul's pov which I still intend to write and post in addition to this, but if said requester wishes for an additional character they are more than welcome to send a message, there is no time limit on that.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, I could not for the fucking life of me find any of the music I wanted to use for Azul. No piano cover for the first song and then no instrumental version of "Part of Your World" from Dreamlight Valley; why that isn't on youtube when it is my literal favorite arrangement of the song I couldn't tell you smh. I did manage to find something close to it though... The rest of the event requests can be found on my masterlist.

Azul

Magic shmagic, you have got to be some sort of wizard with just how well you managed to weasel your way into this stupid party. No one had been checking invitations, probably assuming that no one without magic would bother taking time to make an elaborate ensemble just to get their hands on some prime snacks. Clearly they underestimated the great responsibility bestowed upon the owner of a set of tupperware. You would have added "and a cat monster" but you are not stupid enough to think you own Grim.

Or humiliated enough to suggest that he owns you, but the less chances you take at making him sneeze and wake up to a suspiciously empty dorm the better. You didn't need him storming the castle crying about how he woke up all alone and was scared wasn't invited. Not that you hadn't considered that plan together before Crewel had made it extra clear just what the consequences would be for that. The food tables are positioned close to a balcony you had spotted earlier, empty save for a piano that you swear has to be desperately out of tune.

Or at least that had been what you thought on your way in. That clearly isn't true from the song that's snapped your attention away from your mission towards it. You know the song that's being played, or at least you think you do. It causes some strange cognitive dissonance in you, you try to tell yourself that it simply can't be real, even as the words bubble up in your throat trying to make up for the missing instruments. The person playing it somehow makes the dissonance worse.

Azul, because it has to be him, no one else has eyes quite as lovely even if they seem strangely sad behind his mask, clearly is not expecting to be observed. He is far too relaxed, too caught up in some strange thought playing a jazz song so hauntingly out of place against the classical background of the Masquerade. If you were yourself tonight, you would think about reaching out to close the gap, but to do that would be to give yourself away, put you firmly in the tight grasp of his debt that you will likely be powerless to repay.

And yet, he looks to see you anyway, the edges of his lips flickering into business as he surprisingly does not stop playing. Instead he moves the piece into one he thinks "you" will recognize before finishing with a flourish.

It is all you can do to clap politely so as not to drop all pretense. "I am sorry for interrupting you." You try, but you know as well as he that disguised or not, Azul will not let you off this easily.

"Oh it's no trouble really." He stands up from the bench with a flourish. "I was just helping myself, really what were the hosts thinking leaving such a lovely piano out here all alone? It's practically begging to be played."

"Of course." You hope, not with much optimism, Azul doesn't notice you looking for an exit. The last thing you want is a reason to be more awkward around your handsome classmate than you already are. "You chose such a unique song for it too, I couldn't help but be distracted." He falters, fingers dropping back to the keys gently running over them in a strange show of emotion.

"it is isn't it." He states it, more to himself than you as you beat away the unhelpful desire to describe his playing as "out of this world," not wanting to deal with any judgment later. The look Azul has on his face can almost be described as... fond as he continues to speak more to himself than you. "A... friend of mine taught it to me. I have been practicing it for them. For tonight." You almost ask who he is referring to, afraid he might mention some other poor lost soul from another world because you certainly do not remember teaching him any music let alone that song. You have a vague memory of playing something at Floyd's request, but that had been ages ago, and Azul had certainly not been there.

At least not in your line of sight.

"I should let you get back to them then." You say lamely, hopefully Azul will pass that off as disinterest in his personal affairs and let you go. This is starting to get bad for your heart.

"They're not here sadly. No thanks to me, if only they had thought to ask for my help..." He returns to the piano, so genuinely disappointed you are almost angry at yourself for not thinking to ask this poor man who certainly only would have asked for your last dance and not your soul or first born. "It's got to be an important song to them if they remembered how to play it... right?"

Or maybe he would, just in a more romantic way. He certainly seems more focused on the phantom of you than anything else and that has to be some sort of accomplishment. It is all you can do to swallow your guilty conscious enough to leave with your disguise in tact.

Ace

"Yuu! Oi why are you running I knew you would-" Ace's hand stops just in front of you, his smile and optimism completely gone with his brain cells apparently as he retreats. "Ha, sorry." His places his hand behind his head casually, voice dropping to that similar serious tone as it had earlier in the night when he had asked for you to tell him he looked good. "Thought you were somebody else."

"Sorry." You really mean it, as much as you just want to shake off the disguise and let him know he was right that would be way too dangerous. Everyone knows you were not invited, and everyone knows his behavior around you. No matter how much your heart sings that he saw through you, it would get him into so much trouble if he was suspected of helping you in this little adventure.

"Nah it's not your fault, I'm just annoyed." Ace has apparently decided that you are his new old friend for the evening anyway, bracing himself against the pillar with a huff as you give into temptation to stay with him just a bit longer. "Seriously it is going to be such a pain later! Deuce is all like 'we should enjoy ourselves the prefect will be mad if we let them ruin it for us.' Please like I would want my friends to be celebrating when I'm not there."

"You're not your friend though." You try to not laugh as you say it because of course that's what Ace would say. You can easily picture him sulking if it had just been Deuce and you who were off to a Masquerade all while acting like he is truly not bothered as soon as you pay him any attention. "It's not like it's your fault they're not here."

"Ha, sure feels like it." He is back to being oddly serious, you can't decide if you just think the attitude doesn't suit him or are angry he is spilling his guts to a masked stranger and not the real you. He has to know you would listen, but then maybe that's the problem. "You have to have that one friend who never sticks up for themselves right? Everybody does. Just don't make the mistake of- well they're stupid difficult to look after but someone's gotta do it right? No shame if you end up liking them."

"Oh yeah of course." Ace is going to never speak to you again if he figures out this is you. Or if he knows you were thinking about him when he started complaining about having a "friend" that's hard to look after. "No shame at all, really it's annoying how much cuter it makes them."

"You get it." He nods then remembers he is supposed to be the laid back guy in your friend group and returning to his "normal" attitude. "I mean who doesn't understand that? Seriously how tropey can things get sometime, like who still falls for their best friend anymore? How stupid does life think I am- look," he claps you on the back before steeling himself to head off back to where you assume Deuce and the other members of the Heartslabyul crew are, "you see any out of place, magicless prefects you bring them right to me yeah? They owe me a dance for all the headaches they've caused me this past year. And you had best bet I intend to collect." And just like that he's gone. Off to his friends, probably to poke Riddle some to ignore just how vulnerable he decided to be tonight.

And leaving you silently screaming into the night.

Epel

"SHHHHH!" Epel's a deceptively strong guy, it's something he would probably be bragging about right now if he knew you were thinking it. Well maybe not just right now, he has his hand roughly over your mouth as his eyes dart from side to side begging that it's just Vil that's on his tail and not Rook.

Something you are equally begging god for because there is no way that freak of nature is going to not recognize you immediately. Not that you are 100% certain he would turn you in, but there is something extremely uncomfortable about being known to begin with let alone when you are supposed to be disguised. Finally, the specter of the Queen passes by your little nook and Epel lets you go with a sigh.

"M'sorry." Epel is looking up at you like a kicked puppy, you can't tell if it's intentional or he really is just that remorseful. The two of you float towards the tempting fresh air of the balcony, Epel pouting up at the sky as if he is a princess about to break into song about how boring his life is and how if he could just run away into the great yonder he would. "I just really don't want to deal with my Housewarden right now. He keeps say'n I should make the most of the night or else I'll shame Pomefiore, but I just don't care." Well that's not exactly news but still, maybe you can help him snap out of it so he doesn't get into a heap of trouble he'll be complaining about later.

"Aren't you having fun with your friends?" It's a simple first option, safe enough for you to say even though you are supposed to be a stranger. Epel lets out a somewhat predictable sigh, though the sheer force of longing hidden in the eyes you swear are almost shining is not something you expected.

"Well yeah, but a Masquerade like this is super fancy right? There's all these costumes, music fit for slow dancing, perfect thing ta' do with someone special." Epel relaxes, completely comfortable with what he's saying to a supposed stranger in supposed anonymity as if he isn't sending you spiraling with that little admission. "I was really countin' on Yuu bein here." He closes his eyes, almost as if he is imagining what he would be doing if you had been invited and weren't... sneaking around hearing him admit something he definitely did not intend to do like this.

"D-don't you want to dance?" You say it more to distract yourself than Epel, honestly you would love nothing more than to hear him talk about all the fancy things he wants to do with this allegedly special person, but you need an out before he figures things out. Before Vil figures out that Epel's really shirking things and sends Rook. Before-

"Aw yer mighty charmin' but I got my eye on someone already." before Epel makes it super clear just what it is he feels and leaves you no room for denial. You almost feel sorry for the hypothetical stranger you are, Epel looks so... happy when he talks about you. You're almost jealous of yourself. "Say, you got an eye for fancy things? It's gotta suck bein left out of the party so I wanna bring my friend somethin' special but I ain't gotta clue what to do."

"Yourself." You say softly, feather twitching just out of the corner of your eye signalling your que to leave. "If you want to bring your friend something special you should just bring yourself."

[kisscara]

O5. madam faruzan who? [fanboy!scaramouche x drummer!reader] ⎯⎯ heartbeat rhythm series

you nervously fidget with your drumsticks, a coy smile on your lips as scaramouche talks to kaeya. yanfei taps your shoulder and whispers, "whenever you're ready." you rapidly nod and attempt to ease your nerves by relaxing your tense shoulders. but what if you're never ready?

you've performed in front of countless people, why can't you do the same for one guy? well, technically a group of three but you don't mind what kaeya and yanfei think. just him and him alone. you turn to yanfei, "um-" you recoil when the mic by your mouth suddenly makes a deafening squeal.

scaramouche pinches his temple, "kaeya, did you or did you not test the equipment?" kaeya puts his hands up in defense, "hey, i thought that was yanfei's job." scaramouche argues as kaeya makes his way up the stage, "her job is to set it up and yours is to test it! immature dickhead..."

kaeya sighs while wiping a hand over his face, "he can be such a pain in the ass, how could you even play along with this, (name)?" you look up at him and frown. does everyone really see scaramouche in this bad light? maybe they just need to get to know him more to take a liking to him.

kaeya gives the mic a few taps and speaks into it. "this good enough for you, mister moody?" kaeya chuckles when scaramouche gives him a deathly glare. "alright, you should be all good to go. oh and," kaeya looks at you while heading back down the steps. "try not to screw up, scaramouche can get real mad at that."

you felt yourself shatter like a clay statue hitting the floor. "oh, shut it, kaeya!" yanfei growls, knitting her brows together in frustration. she shakes her head, "don't listen to him, (name)... (name)?" your hands are shaking, causing your drumsticks to waver.

"i'm going to die today-"

"no, you won't," yanfei rolls her eyes at your dramatic act and firmly says, "you got this." you take a deep breath in and another one out. "yeah, i do. i'm ready now." you adjust your posture and sit more upright on your drum throne. scaramouche's eyes carefully scan you.

his lips form an anxious squiggle, 'they look so cool... i've always watched them on my phone or from afar but this is the real deal.' scaramouche places a hand on his chest, hoping to calm his rapid heartbeat.

as the song starts through the speakers, you begin the intro's drum riff only to be stopped by scaramouche's voice. yanfei stops the music and you tighten your grip. did you mess up already?

"is it possible if," he looks away, covering the pink tint on his face. "you could cover the vocals too?"

you gasp and beam, "yeah! i mean, yes, i could totally do that!" scaramouche clears his throat and nods, "my apologies for interrupting. you can play now." yanfei gives you a playful smirk and you smile back at her.

the music starts up again and you start drumming without a disruption unlike before. you never sang while performing, except for little background lines yun jin made you and the other members do as she led the performance per usual. but singing and drumming at the same time made you feel content.

だって本当は crazy, 白鳥たちはそう

it's like your voice was made for this specific song. everything was going well and fitting into place. scaramouche couldn't take his eyes off of you the entire time. he swore he couldn't even blink, feeling as if he would miss something groundbreaking should he look away.

見えないとこでバタ足するんです

kaeya examines scaramouche's dazed state. "he's out of it," he mutters in amusement. yanfei proudly hugs her tablet to her torso, smiling as you finally gather the courage you desperately needed for this moment.

本能に従順忠実 翻弄も重々承知 前途洋々だし⋯ だからたまに休憩しちゃうんです

sweat covers your forehead in a glistening sweat as you have the chance to rest your voice, since this part of the song is just silence filled with the instruments. your eyes avert towards the clear blue sky and then scaramouche. the two of you lock gazes.

like you do with your usual crowd when performing, you give him your signature wink along with a grin out of habit. oh, dear... he nearly passed out on the spot. with the final crash of your cymbals and banging of your drums, you finish off without a single flaw in your performance.

you're reminded of the first time you performed like this, in front of a small audience of three. those three being ayaka, her big brother who was always like your own, ayato, and their mother. they always supported your passion for drums and ayato was the one who gifted you your drum set.

you'd never forget him. he's living the high life in university at the moment, bound to graduate with a doctorate degree... more on him later. your current situation at hand is much more important!

a deafening silence is booming through the outdoors, accompanied by the peaceful songs the birds share along with the calm gusts of wind. you slowly pant, chest bobbing up and down as you exhale, "how was it?" yanfei and kaeya look over to scaramouche.

scaramouche lifts his head, his indigo hair framing his beautiful features. the way he looks at you with such confidence, a striking and powerful glare; it's no wonder you have no idea how much he so admires you. he opens his mouth and three words fall from his lips.

"it wasn't bad."

boom.

those words alone were enough to make your heart jump all over the place, your cheeks to heaten and your eyes to brighten. you exclaim, "really!?" from the surge of excitement, you instantly stand up, causing your snare drum to fall over. you quickly prop it back up and rush down the stage.

'oh, they're approaching me, they're approaching, they're approaching-' scaramouche's mind is in a jumble as you hold both of his hands in yours. his head explodes. not literally, i sure hope not. but explode... like the way a train releases puffs of smoke and steam from their cylinders going, 'choo, choo!'

yeah, that perfectly describes how he feels as you sweetly say, "i look forward to working with you on the school festival, president!"

yanfei and kaeya stifle their laughs. they saw scaramouche's, 'it wasn't bad,' as a complete disappointment for you, but you, you saw all of the good in it. that's all you needed to confirm that scaramouche indeed, has his unseen sweet side. yanfei sighs, "i'm glad it all worked out."

kaeya smugly adds, "i think president has a lil' crush, don't you think?" the two are lucky their conversation is out of scaramouche's earshot. yanfei pauses and watches as scaramouche stammers out words to you with a red complexion. you, being as dense as you are, mistaken it for him being startled by your sudden arrival.

yanfei squints her eyes and her jaw nearly drops in realization. only a fool wouldn't notice the obvious admiration you and scaramouche mutually hold for each other. how come she didn't see it before? the obvious mood change of scaramouche's and his somewhat kinder demeanor surely have a part in this.

"what? scaramouche, like me?" you ask, a brow raised as you look at yanfei. she nods, completely serious. you sputter and resort to laughing. "yeah, you almost got me there, 'fei! but i believe with a little more time and effort," you ball your fists up in determination, "i'll be his and he'll be mine in no time!"

you and the rest of the student council are at a family restaurant, under kaeya's suggestion after all the hard work they did and surprisingly, scaramouche agreed. yanfei waves her finger and closes her eyes, "no, no, (name), listen closely. i think he likes you-"

her eyelids lift as she sees scaramouche boasting about how hard it is to keep everyone in line as a president and you repeatedly comment him on his dedication to his role. yanfei deadpans, "such lovesick idiots..."

your phone vibrates in your pocket and you take it out, however you froze up the second you saw the text.

tags: @mariusvonhangme @scaramoo @mikismusings @rizakari @akagism2 @sakiimeo @ohmyfinggod @aethersluvrr @scarafrisbee @kaoyamamegami @liliumaraneae @dreamsofminnie @starfart19 @kunisbeloved @luhvashh @makiswrld @kyouzki @mimissubway @loucaroarz @theblueblub @angelunatic @shinjuuz @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @thefandomcrow @cotton-eee @lovely028 @hrtswinter @duckyyyx @kissingkzuha @dazaisboner @adeptusx @tomotofu @yukiipc @loverhole @star583 @soobasaur @aeongiies @dr8amy @scaraapologist @raideneiari @rvoulte @aaeng121 @pyrrhicgaze @tjjjrsj @enviouspeanut @d4y-dr3am3r @aromaticism @undecidingfate @kur44pika

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what happens when you, a talented and well-known drummer across the web, grow an intense crush for the student council president, who's also your number one fan? from annoying sisters to nosy bandmates, the next event that happens is always more chaotic than the last!

© kisscara