#i just can’t get over what an odd choice of song it is to have her feature in

[halojalex]

admittedly i do feel a little surprised to see Lisa listed as a feature but its also not TOO surprising?? idk but I hope its good, bcus i really enjoy the original and sequels/remakes make me nervous kdlsldk

oh i’ve no doubt it’ll be good! just from the snippet we got to hear it already sounds like it’ll be so good, and i’m sure lisa’s part will be good too, it just seems odd when you think about it, specifically the part she’ll be singing

[novy2sirius]

Astro Notes by Novy

— volume three

Aquarius placements get a rep for being emotionless but are often quite sensitive but just really good at hiding their emotions

It’s not as commonly talked about as Leo placements but Libra/7h placements make amazing actors as well — example: zendaya is a 7h sun in western astrology

Asteroids in astrology are important but your regular natal chart planets, houses, aspects, degrees, and signs will tell you the most about your life and self

8h Venus' have the deepest most unconditional love for people. It doesn’t matter what someone does to them they will still have care for them and want the best for them no matter how toxic. They genuinely can’t help it

People with their North Node in the 12th house may experience lots of periods of isolation throughout their life

If you dream of dating your celebrity crush and have a Libra/Leo Sun, 5h/7h Sun, 5h/10h Venus, Venus at 5°/17°/29° or Sun to Venus aspects there is a possibility it could happen. Don’t lose hope — example: hailey bieber’s venus at 29°

I personally haven’t seen many same sign couples last long term. Not sure why

I’ve never met someone with Chiron in the 4th/8th/12th house that’s had an easy life. These people tend to struggle a lot emotionally and be very misunderstood by society/people in general. Even people who have known them for years

Your North Node isn’t your purpose alone it’s your potential. You have the choice to fulfill it or not. If you don’t you will reincarnate over and over until you do

Having more square/oppositions than trines/sextiles doesn’t make you a bad person. I’ve seen some people say this and I find it odd. Squares show obstacles we endure and oppositions show tensions/confusions we face in our life but just like Mars and Saturn energy they’re not inherently “bad” as these challenges can help you grow and you can turn them into positive energy if you choose to work through them properly

You’ll often be more attracted to the energy of the opposite sign of your 7th house than the 7h sign itself — example: if your 7h is in the sign sagittarius you might actually be attracted to gemini energy more often

The house your Sun is in can show you where you’re meant to shine and be successful — example: Sun in the 7th house can mean being successful in the arts or having lots of romantic relationships and ending up in a happy marriage one day

Your 2nd house sign can tell you what’s most important for you to value in this life — example: if you have your 2h in the sign cancer then you should value your empathy/emotions and use it for good

Neptune is associated with nostalgia. People with placements like Neptune in the 1st house or 3rd house may struggle a lot with nostalgia and remembering certain memories better than they actually were

People with a water sun and libra moon are usually extremely musically talented in some way — examples: ariana grande, justin bieber, madison beer, olivia rodrigo

Most same (sun) sign couples never work out in the long run. Same moon sign couples (especially in sidereal) are more likely to last

The 12th house is associated with catfishing because it’s the house of illusion and impersonations. Lots of people who have gotten catfished (long term) before usually have Mercury or Uranus in the 12th house for this reason

Mars can tell how you are in the bedroom — example: a Virgo mars will please you a lot since the sign is associated with acts of service. They’re definitely the type to make you finish first

Someone with lots of Libra energy in their chart will often hold grudges because they seek harmony and when someone brings lots of negativity to their life it’s unlikely they’ll put up with it long term contrary to the popular “people pleaser” reputation

I’ve personally noticed Capricorn Venus’ always make the best love songs

Check Mercury/Uranus’ house for insight on what you should post on social media to become more famous — example: mercury/uranus in the 10h could mean you can pretty much become famous from any type of video, mercury/uranus in the 7h could mean becoming famous from fashion/beauty/dancing/art videos or from posting with your romantic partner online, etc

Leo’s usually always have 3 or more children unless they’re infertile

Everyone talks about how Capricorn/Aquarius placements can show delays but Taurus placements can as well as the sign is associated with slowness. example — a taurus ascendant may glow up later than most (i’ve noticed this seems to be more true in my sidereal chart than western though)

Aries Venus’ do fall for people quickly but they can also move on very fast if you hurt them a lot. They hold grudges

A lot of Cancer’s have toxic relationships with Leo’s. Not sure why

Saturn is actually a planet that can give insight our job as well but not many people talk about it. It is the planet of “work”. example — saturn in the 2nd house can indicate being a singer, accountant, chef/baker, model, fashion designer, etc

Venus at 2° can indicate gaining wealth slowly over time. Most of these people gain wealth sometime in their late 20’s - 40’s

People with Venus to Jupiter aspects often end up being wealthy in life. Especially when it’s trine or square I’ve noticed

The house the Moon or Neptune is in can show where you have the most influence over others. example — moon in 5th house can indicate being a very influential actor

Everyone talks about Saturn in the 7th house being a bad placement but I think it’s very beneficial in the long run. Pluto in the 7th house is the real challenge. They often experience more toxic relationships than any other placement I’ve noticed

Aquarius Midheaven’s do NOT like 9-5 jobs. They hate being bossed around and often are more successful in careers where they have freedom and can share their own ideas with the world rather than be an employee

Leo Venus’ (and Leo placements in general) love very hard. It’s why the body part Leo is associated with is the heart

Gemini Ascendant’s will NOT marry someone who isn’t making them consistently laugh their ass off or who is too serious

Pisces placements are often great friends and really good at understanding people

Leo placements are known for being loyal but I actually find that they’re only loyal to the people in their circle not people outside of it that they’re not super close with

Cancer Saturn’s are very likely to spiral into a depression if they can’t let go of their past

I’ve noticed a lot Taurus Mars will apologize and then continuously do the thing they apologized for without changing

Aries stelliums are the biggest daredevils. They often love amusement parks and will ride all the scariest rides

Libra/7h Moons can make a lot of money from acting in romance films — example: leonardo dicaprio in the titanic

Juno in the 7h/8h is a green flag. These people tend to be very loyal partners

Sagittarius/Pisces actually have the bigger egos since they’re ruled by Jupiter the planet of abundance and the Sun represents the ego. Abundance of ego

Your solar return charts can tell about annual themes/energy, your lunar return charts can tell about monthly themes/energy, and your transits can tell about daily themes/energy

Mars/Pluto can show the things people tend to envy about us — example: people with mars/pluto in the 5h/7h should make sure they pick a very loyal partner because they tend to attract home-wreckers that try to ruin their relationships more than anyone else

People with Mars in the 7th house are always fruity. Like I don’t think I’ve met someone with this placement that isn’t at least bi

Libra/7h moons will legit move to a different location to be with the person they’re in love with. They love very deeply

Aries moons got anger issues for days but they’re really good friends to have because they won’t be the type to stay quiet when someone says something mean about you. They’re ride or die for their friends

Leo Jupiter’s (especially in sidereal) tend to have such amazing acting talent that people forget they’re watching a film instead of a real life tape

Capricorn placements often have the reputation of being hard workers but let’s talk about Aries placements. When they want something they will have it. They never give up, their ambition is insane

[gnawing-suspicion]

Favorite Hannigram Fics of 2024

So! I’ve been thinking about making this list for weeks but it overwhelmed me — I started reading Hannigram fic this year and have consumed millions of words of it. I began without an ao3 account so many of the ones I started with are lost to the aether, but here are the absolute gems, the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Some are popular, others less known.

My tastes might not be yours, but I am drawn to excellent writing, slow burns, power dynamics and a healthy dose of twisted kink. So! ONWARD!

Note: The Shape of Me Will Always be You and Consenting to Dream are a given.

Blackbird by @emungere - “Shortly after Will kills Garret Jacob Hobbs, he and Hannibal stumble into a D/s relationship. It's a relief to have Hannibal telling him what to do, but the closer they become, the closer he gets to realizing who and what Hannibal really is.”

I love D/s Hannigram and this was exquisite. Everything by emungere is, of course, but this is my favorite.

Bram Stoker’s HANNIBAL by @dbmars - “Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend.”

A love letter to both the 90s film and the original work. This is the longest fic I read this year and it consumed me for weeks. It’s gorgeous, sexy, beautifully-written and every casting choice made me kick my feet with glee.

Secretary by FragileTeacup and ThisIsMyDesignHannibal - “Will Graham needs a job. Since quitting the FBI, he’s been adrift for months, broken and lost; chasing a desire he doesn’t understand in increasingly destructive ways. What he needs is stability, direction, something to help put his life back in order and quiet the buzzing in his head.”

Secretary is one of my favorite films ever, and this take on it had me foaming at the mouth. It’s so good. SO GOOD.

Hinterland by @pastelwell - “When they crash into the water he believes it’s over. He followed his final impulse to do the right thing by his friends, his family, the world. The last flutters of morality within him had guided him, even as he looked into the eyes of a murderer who had somehow compelled his fall from grace. Here, in the frigid deep waters, their chapter is closed and their story is concluded. Except it isn’t. This is just the beginning.”

A divine post-fall fic of rehabilitation, angst, longing and some of the hottest smut imaginable. I love a post-fall fic and this is top-tier!!

With skin intact and altered souls by romanticallyinept - Will snorts his laughter, shifting to tuck his hands under his arms. “Come on,” he says, turning his head to look over at Hannibal. “The chances of two serial killers being in one car would be astronomical.”

They’re both serial killers!!! What are the odds!! This one is so fun, so fucked, so hot. Really great dialogue.

Our Shadows, That are Bold, Sing by @highermagic - “The monster under Will's bed calls himself Hannibal. He has lived there since Will was old enough to have a bed. He is very smart, and Will likes him very much. He protects Will's dreams, wakes him when he has nightmares. He embraces Will with shadows that black out the morning light when dawn comes, and sings soft songs that Will doesn't know.”

Listen, I read basically every one of HigherMagic’s fics this year. They’re all, every one of them, incredible. This one really got me, though. Monster Hannibal is my husband now.

patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter - “Will Graham has been acting in heterosexual porn for years but is fired when his manager encourages him to take a higher-paying job for a homosexual centric porn company. There, he finds his expectations turned upside down.”

This is obviously ABSURD but oh my god, did I love it. Will Graham having a sexual identity crisis with notoriously sadistic porn god Hannibal is like candy to me. 10/10.

Cuisine Euphonique by thecountessolivia - “Nightmares brought on by a gruesome case lead Will to some unorthodox therapy in the form of a YouTube cooking channel.”

Will gets obsessed with Hannibal’s secret ASMR channel. Incredible phone sex is the natural conclusion. The descriptions of sound in this are viscerally gorgeous.

Funeral of Flowers by thecountessolivia - “Venice, 1870. The heart of winter. The once great city republic is on its knees. The banned institution of Carnevale lives on discreetly in the masked balls that light up the grand palazzi of the rich and the well-born.”

Hannigram at Carnevale. Sumptuous, longing, decadently described historical AU. Loved this to death.

Black Rock Mountain by bokunojinsei - “Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.”

An even smuttier They’re Both Serial Killers fic that had me howling in the streets. You want bloody horny Hannigram? This is elite!!

To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi - “AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.”

I’m not gonna lie, I think this was my favorite fic I read this year. Will as The Devil is so hot I screamed. There’s a scene at the end that is so fucked I lost my mind. Not even close to safe or sane. A masterpiece.

The Night Owl by sourweather - “Will works the graveyard shift at his University's 24 hour Library. There's another student who only comes in to study in the dead of night. Will can't explain why, but something about that boy has caught his attention.”

College AU! COLLEGE AU! Featuring some great Beverly fun.

An Ounce of Wit by winddragon - “AKA a modern magical AU where the entire point is to turn Will Graham into a catboy.”

The infamous Will is a Catboy fic that is somehow SO good. I had to be convinced to read this but I’m so glad I did. It’s an absolute delight, and the dark magic is so cool?! Goofy, yes, but delicious.

old-fashioned divinity candy by antiheroblake - “the relationship between old money, med student hannibal lecter and his newly rich sugar daddy, will graham”

An ongoing WIP that has me hooked by the throat. If you like the boys being absolutely stupid for each other and also absolutely stupid about it, you’ll eat this up. Young Hannibal is such an idiot. I love him.

in the gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini - “Hannibal and Will have murder husbands mind palace sex, and Alana watches obsessively.”

I mean, it does what it says on the box. It does it SO WELL. Honk honk and, if I may add, awoooga.

show me where it hurts (I’ll lick it clean) by antiheroblake - “at 18, will inherits a ranch upon the death of his father, a man who died from a supposed family curse. at 33, will becomes prone to accidents, and the new town doctor starts to see him more than he sees his cattle.”

Accident-prone Will in the Old West HATES his sexy new doctor. You won’t believe what happens next!!!

Bring Out Your Desires by TheCosmicNSFW - “After spontaneously having to save a man's life inside an ambulance, Hannibal Lecter finds Will Graham being naughty in the bathroom. He decides that Will Graham might be a more valuable asset than he originally thought, and he convinces Will to let him work out his true desires - but is offering your mind to Hannibal on a silver platter such a great idea?”

An ongoing Hypnosis Kink fic that has absolutely inspired some of Fever Dreams. Bonus points for a fic that gave me a new kink!! Doesn’t happen every day!

The Sugar Bowl by BelladonnaWyck and raiast

Listen, ok, I like a sugar daddy fic. I’m picky about them, though!! This one involves University Will and he’s such a perfect mess.

Mine to Touch by piginapoketuesday - “Will's neck flushed with fear. Never being allowed to feed himself again. Learning to associate food with a swollen, untouched cock. Swallowing prettily and on command. His body betrayed him, and he moaned around the fork in his mouth.”

This one popped up during my exploration of the Sub Will Graham tag and woooooof, yes. Yes!!

2 weeks by EarthsickWithoutYou - “After reading the news of Will's marriage to Molly, an incarcerated Hannibal cannot bear their separation or his own jealousy any longer. He breaks out and finds Will, proposing a bet: that Will gives Hannibal two weeks to prove his love and convince Will to run away with him. If Hannibal succeeds, they will be together for life, but if he fails, he'll return to the BSHCI and never see Will again. With Hannibal's heart on the line and Will's inner moral conflict hard to hear above the roar of his longing for the killer, what choice is he going to make?”

Insanely jealous Hannibal + bone-deep yearning + “I can give you what she never could” = 🔥🔥🔥🔥😤🥵

Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind - “Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.”

A rec from @graciereadshannigram that also introduced me to a new kink. It’s twisted, obviously, but godDAMN it’s hot. And speaking of Gracie…

CrimsonDesires by Scifibabe - “Post-fall, Will and Hannibal discover that Alana became a bestselling erotic novelist and surprise! She based her characters on Will and Hannibal. Drunken dramatic reading of various passages ensues.”

This is absolute crack and I ate it up like ICE CREAM. A kick-your-feet delight. Watch as Will blushes so hard he nearly dies. And lest we forget my fave of her Kinktober fics…

Touched for the Very First Time by Scifibabe - “One night post-fall, Will proposes something new: letting Hannibal seduce him as if it's his first time. As Will slips into a younger, more hesitant version of himself, he’s reminded of all the things he's never let himself fully experience. With Hannibal guiding him through each step, Will discovers just how much he still craves being taken care of, in every sense.”

This blew my mind. It’s so hot. Thank you for the food!!!! Bonus mention for the Daddy Kink Fisting episode.

act on it by acheforhim - “Will is lonely and his long-distance fuckbuddy encourages him to pursue Hannibal.”

It took me MONTHS into reading fic to give omegaverse a try. I’m still fussy about it, but this one is so hot.

Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick - “In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.

Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?”

Hdhagahajajbfdg.

Illicit Affairs by EarthsickWithoutYou - “AU in which Will is living a quiet, safe, but deeply conflicted life in Maine, married to Molly but secretly longing for his dark Becoming. Mired in self-hatred and despair, he seeks comfort in the church. But things get very complicated once he meets the new priest at his parish, Father Hannibal Lecter.”

I have a massive Priest Kink and this did it for me in every way possible. I love how all of EarthsickWithoutYou’s fics are so deeply religious. I’m not, but I love reading it!!

suffer does the wolf by cedarbranch - “Under extreme physical duress, a werewolf's transformation cycles may fall out of phase with the moon. Will has experienced it once before. He'd hoped he never would again. But the fall was not kind to him, and when two full moons pass afterwards with no sign of a change, something has to give.

The solution: a tight leather collar, woven through with pure silver chain to prevent unwanted transformation. Will hates the collar. But it might be different when Hannibal's the one putting it on him.”

I may be iffy on omegaverse, but I LOVE fics where Will is a werewolf. It just suits him. That plus BDSM power dynamics? SOLD

even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter - “Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.”

I loved this, oh how I loved this, particularly when they fuck themselves. What a treat for me!!

How to Be a Good Boy: A Guide for the Novice Werewolf by HigherMagic - “Will gets scratched by a strange dog during the full moon.”

I told you I like Will as a werewolf and this is peak!!

WHEW. I know there are more I could add and some I’ve lost track of or forgotten, but these fics changed me!! I obviously pored through the archives of a few authors - HigherMagic, emungere, MissDisoriental, thecountessolivia, EarthsickWithoutYou, Scifibabe, antiheroblake, bleakmidwinter and DBMars all kept me fed this year! 🖤 without all their incredible work I never would’ve started writing my own fic, so I’m deeply grateful.

I love this fandom and now that you can see my tastes, I am very open to your recs 🖤🖤🖤

[reiding-writing]

Hiii, I absolutely loved immortal it was adorable! I was wondering if I could request a fluff fic w Gn!reader where when Spencer goes to the swing set after the whole thing with Cat at the restaurant reader also goes there maybe to read a book and it's a whole meet cute kinda thing cause it's one of his favorite authors or smth? sry for the long request I was trying to be specific Imao

swinging [s.r]

Summary:

You attempt to find your usual late night escape in the empty play park late one evening after an argument with your boyfriend, instead you find a handsome stranger that you find oddly endearing.

WARNINGS: shitty boyfriend (not spencer obviously)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff (kinda hurt/comfort)

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: i am reuploading this once and once only so if it doesn’t upload to the tags again then i am giving up-

“It’s a little late for a play date don’t you think?”

Your comment clearly catches the boy in front of you off guard, his head shooting upwards and his eyes wide like he was in a state of fight or flight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” You take a second to admire the man in front of you through your apology.

His hair was fluffy, bordering curly, and long enough that it was getting caught in his eyelashes as he blinked up at you.

His eyes were big, round, and practically glistening in the warm lighting of the lamp post to your left.

He was dressed in a finely pressed black suit fit with a baby blue shirt and a lilac tie that made him look like he’d walked right out of one of those rom-coms where the male lead is a prolific billionaire.

He was gorgeous.

“I came here to wallow in my own self-pity but it looks like you beat me to it,” You can’t help but chuckle softly at your own explanation. “Do you mind?”

You gesture towards the swing besides his with a book held in your left hand and a soft expression, as if to silently tell the beautiful stranger in front of you that if he wanted to be alone that you would feel any offense.

“Uh- yeah- no- no, go ahead,” You don’t even try to suppress the smile that creeps its way onto your face at the way he stumbles over his words, and you take a seat on the swing next to him with a chuckled “Thank you,” as you turn your head down to the open book in your lap, just illuminated enough under the lamp post so you can read the words on the pages.

Any distinguishing factors, including the book’s title were unceremoniously hidden from view as it blends into the night’s shadows, effectively halting curious effort of the boy next to you to figure out what it is.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his lingering gaze, and you follow it down to the novel in your hands before you show off the cover in his direction.

Paramenides by Plato.

“Have you read it?”

Your voice stops his psychoanalysis of your literature choices as he turns his eyes back up towards your face again.

“I have actually,” He nods softly at you with a pursed, slightly awkward smile, the contours of his cheek bones perfectly captured in the dim lighting. “I read it when I was doing my Philosophy degree.”

“No kidding-“ You let out a small laugh in surprise at the fact the cute stranger encroaching on your usual pity party venue just so happened to have a degree in Philosophy.

He also just so happened to have an absolutely beautiful laugh, the sound like a song in your ear as he joins you in laughing about the absurdity of the odds that the two of you both had a keen interest in philosophy.

“So, what brings you out here so late then?” You seem to lose interest in your book as the two of you make eye contact, shutting it in your lap as you turn your shoulders towards him. “No, wait, let me guess, shitty date?”

The boy lets out a breath that could almost constitute as laugh, averting his eyes from you and leaning towards slightly to awkwardly run his hands over his legs. “Something like that-”

You give him a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Don’t let it ruin your perception of romance, it’ll work out in the end,”

The boy’s eyes turn up towards you once more as you speak, and your smile becomes a little more awkward as he meets your gaze once more.

“You don’t look like you believe yourself…” His words leaving you blinking softly in his direction, facial expression full of confusion.“Your relationship isn’t going very well at the moment is it?”

Your expression morphs at his question and he immediately backtracks, waving his hands around as he tries to pull back the conversation.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t- I’m-” He takes a sharp breath in through his nose before attempting to actually speak a full sentence to you. “I’m a uh profi- A behavioural analyst- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i’m so sorry-“

“No it’s alright,” It was your turn to awkwardly drag your hands down your legs now, fingers curling over the edge of your book as you reach it and fiddle with the metal plating on one of the corners of the cover. “You’re not wrong,”

You can practically see the curiosity in his eyes as you confirm his suspicion. “Is that why you’re here?”

You can hear the cautiousness in his tone as he presses you further, clearly scared about crossing a line, “You said you came here to ‘wallow in self-pity’ earlier…”

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of your earlier statement as he repeats it back to you. “We uh, had an argument,”

You play it off as something insignificant, but you can tell that he doesn’t believe you and soon end up finding yourself spilling the entirety of your relationship problems to someone you’ve never met before.

“He has this best friend that he’s like weirdly close to and he stood me up on a movie night we were supposed to have so they could go out together instead-“ You sigh exasperatedly as you replay the nights events in your head.

“I called him to ask where he was and it spun into him yelling at me for ‘not respecting’ his friendship because they’ve been friends longer than we’ve been dating, it’s stupid really-“

“That’s not stupid at all,” He shakes his head determinedly at you. “He’s not respecting your relationship, i’m sorry you have to deal with that,”

You can’t help but feel minorly guilty for making a stranger feel bad for you, but you give him a soft “Thank you,” nonetheless.

You unfortunately don’t have time to continue your conversation as your phone buzzes with a message from your boyfriend telling you that you have to go home to your shared apartment.

With a sigh you pick yourself up from the swing, clutching your book underneath your arm.

“Well, it was nice to meet you…” You trail of the sentence with indication for him to fill in the space with his name.

“Dr. Reid- Spencer Reid- Spencer- I’m Spencer....”

You can see the flush spread across his cheeks and over his nose as he stumbles out his name.

“I enjoyed speaking with you Spencer,” You give the cute stranger, Spencer, a soft smile as you prepare yourself to leave, hands stuffed in your pockets.

“I enjoyed speaking to you too,” He returns your smile with one of his own, albeit one that’s slightly more awkward, and you can see his mouth fall open again as if he was going to say something else, but his words fall short.

“Good night,” Your stopped in your walk home almost before it even starts as Spencer calls after you with a new found confidence.

“Wait-“ His voice echoes through the empty play park, and you turn around to meet his glistening gaze once more. “Am I- going to see you again?”

His half-awkward demeanour was oddly charming, eliciting a soft smile that spreads to your eyes.

“I like to read here sometimes, bring a book with you and maybe we can read together…”

Spencer smiles at your indirect invitation to see him here again in the future, and he nods softly at your answer, standing from the swing he was sat on to mirror you. “I’d like that,”

“Good,” You give him another soft smile that joined by a slight tilt of your head. “I’ll see you soon then..”

“Yeah…” Spencer stays stood as he watches you leave to go home, mind running at a million miles a minute as his brain fully comprehends what just happened.

You’re already out of sight before he realises that he forgot to ask for your name.

[heartofbusan]

https://www.tumblr.com/heartofbusan/773653321046278144/reflecting-on-ays-i-think-what-hon3ymo0n-touches?source=share

If I was the producer of editor of the show, I would have intrigued it better. Hear me out. Just the way it’s edited is all over the place.

Normally as in Bon Voyage season, we get to see the pre planning, what the trip is, where they are going, the journey etc.

AYS stars like bam, here is Jimin in a hotel room having just got up, and then straight to the meal the night before. Now the meal is interesting given we’ve got two versions of it now. In the show it has an overlaid dialogue with Jimin saying he hasn’t seen JK in a while (their measure of time being screwed because to me a few weeks is not a while) In JKs documentary, we have him sat down, Jimin walking in, and just sitting down too, saying it took him ages to get there. So if we are truly to take them at their words, do we think that Jimin would walk in, having not seen JK in a while and not hug him, or actually greet him? Like any normal person would? It’s an odd choice.

I know they didn’t have a name for the show, or only a potential idea of what it was going to be, but if I was the producer, instead of the ‘car talk’ which can be taken a million different ways. I would have had them follow on from Jimins initial start of the conversation (though edited in such a way in the show itself, it’s why it gets misconstrued). So talk about why they are doing this, like ‘so it’s been a while since we went on a trip. Last time….so we decided to film this show when we both had time. See what adventures we get up to, eat some good food and then some, hang out, get drinks, blah blah.’

Frame it how it’s meant to be, two bros hanging out on a mini weekend trip in upstate NY, a totally normal place for two bros to go on a trip…that cabin not at all a romantic getaway. Look away people!

But yeah, they’re on screen and off screen personas you spoke about. They absolutely tailored their conversations and held back. We actually barely got anything the whole trips, even when Tae was with them. A lot of the BV trips are like this, but when the 7 are together and there is utter chaos, the constant talking over one another, the activities and games they do, you barely notice it. It’s basically little substance. We got to see nothing of the deep conversations they have about music according to Jimin. We got a tiny bit about their approach to writing vs received songs (which solos use as war fare) and that’s it.

What we did kind of get is their domesticated selves slipping through. That slips in because they can’t help it at times. The bickering in the car, the way they are grocery shopping. The way Jimin only had to rub his tummy with a pout on his beautiful face to get JK to understand he was hungry. The cooking meals which is so natural and caring. The way JK takes the heavy bags because he knows Jimin has neck and back pain. The random domesticity in the way JK is spanking Jimins ass, cuddled in bed, and remembers they have to buy a dish sponge. Who hasn’t done that with a partner?

All this to say I personally think they were brave to do this, to put their bond out their in such a big and bold way, to the scrutiny and gaze of all of us and the world. They knew in theory what they were doing in planning it, but I do think the gravity of it probably only hit them when they got in the car and saw the cameras type moment, Jimins face here says it all.

They are good sports I think, they pull it off, they seem comfortable by the next morning, all unease of the cameras forgotten when JK is switching them on and off. The mishap of Jimin being unwell handled incredibly I think. That’s what happens sometimes on trips. It’s life. I’m glad they kept it in. The inertia of them watching that in the last episode is cute! Them laughing at themselves and getting to see what the show had become hopefully put them at ease. They also have the safety net of so many people being ignorant to them (as horrible as hate often is).

We who see them got a glimpse into a part of their bond, their ease with each other, and they knowing of each other, don’t they say to be loved is to be know. And no, knowing those details of each other, of knowing what the other is thinking without speaking, of knowing how to compromise with ease, of knowing the same memes etc, does not come from being distant, quite the opposite. 😉

Ah, anon, how lovely and so well said.

It kind of blows ones mind, doesn't it? People can claim to love either of them but then fail to acknowledge the incredible privilege it is to see someone you love be in love. It reeks of delusional selfishness. And I'm not here for that. I love to see these two men be happy. And to see the special kind of bond they have together. Such a privilege. Such vicarious joy.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and the sweet melody of their joined laughter and their sparkling eyes are the result.

Thank you for writing meeee!

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future Part III, The Novel by Craig Shaw Gardner: Thoughts, commentary, and general ramblings

Part 1: Marty-themed nightmares and lots of cowboy talk

• So! We all know how this one starts. Marty's just come running down the street; he announced he’s back from the future, and Doc is out cold.

• Marty brings Doc home, and while Doc is unconscious, we get to go inside his head for a little dream sequence! And if I may say so: it’s a travesty that this wasn’t in the movie. He has a nightmare that there are Marties everywhere, and he can’t get away from them. Everywhere he turns, there’s A Marty staring back at him. His escape from the horde of Marties only comes when the “Howdy Doody Time” theme song starts, and he wakes up. Since the song also wakes up Doc in the movie, I’d like to believe he was also having Marty Nightmares.

Also, this reminds me of that one post. I can't track down the original to include a link, but I do have a screenshot saved, so that'll have to do.

• Meanwhile, Marty is over on the couch having Cowboy Dreams. He dreams he’s in the Old West with Clint Eastwood and is woken up by the sound of Doc talking into his tape recorder.

• As Doc reads the letter, Marty sits quietly in a chair, intently listening to the whole thing, which is very un-Marty if you ask me. Very glad we ended up with Movie Marty wandering all over the place and touching everything, as it should be.

• Ok, the book earns a point for having both Doc and Marty get emotional to the point of actual tears after reading his letter. Doc is sniffling and wiping tears away, and Marty is described as, “trying hard to keep his lower lip from quivering.” They should have cranked up the emotion for the movie scene.

• Also, I somehow purchased a version of the novelization that was printed in Great Britain, so I’m continuously running into different spellings, such as “centre” and “favourite.” My inner voice narrating as I read is occasionally speaking with an accent because of this. Adds to the fun, I guess.

• Once they locate the DeLorean in the mine, it says, “Doc and Marty grinned at each other,” then they just get to work uncovering it. This is interesting to me because it contrasts so much from the actual movie scene where these supposed grins are replaced with a look of awe from Doc and a look of what I can only describe as horror/fear in Marty. It’s one of my favorite scenes of part III because of their reactions, actually. It's almost as if the realization that the car has been there for so long, and that the older version of the guy standing next to him had stood in that very spot to hide way back in 1885 is a little too overwhelming for Marty. It's a great moment. Next time you watch part III, really focus in on their expressions during this quick little scene.

• Book Marty does NOT stumble over the word “schematic.”

• When Doc tells Marty that he always wanted to be a cowboy, he mentions that he spent a few summers working at Statler’s Ranch, where he learned how to ride horses and shoot guns. In the DeLorean Manual (you know I always have to bring up this book; it’s a treasure trove) Doc says he learned these skills because his father sent him away to “wilderness camp.”

• Got a chuckle at what follows Doc talking about those summers working at the ranch: “Marty got the oddest look on his face. He was probably trying to imagine Doc Brown as a cowboy.”

• Marty then asks Doc how he ended up becoming a scientist instead. Which is kind of an odd choice. Are you to expect me to believe that Marty doesn’t already know the story of how Doc went into science?? This is something I assume 1980s Doc would have told him in their first week or so of knowing each other.

• Marty, initially wary at Doc being “stuck” in 1885 has a change of heart after hearing Doc talk so enthusiastically about his older self getting to live out his cowboy dreams. He says, “Doc, if you’re happy, then I’m happy. It’ll be a whole lot easier for me to go back to 1985 knowing you’re living it up in 1885.” I actually think this is a wonderful addition that might have been nice in the movie. It just…it displays their relationship so nicely. Marty doesn’t WANT to lose his best friend, but he values Doc’s own happiness above his own. To Doc, he isn’t stuck or condemned to a life in the Old West. He’s living out his childhood dream! If you’re happy, then I’m happy. It’s such a beautiful way to reframe the situation.

That seems like a good place to leave things for now.

[cherriegyuu]

seventeen as songs from eternal sunshine (ag)

a/n: like usual, i'll be giving songs and lyrics to each of the members, as well as small plots based on those lyrics. i don't plan to write all of these, but they are still my ideas (as basic as some of them might be). so if you are interested in writing one of them, you can message me about it. if you want to read one of them you can send in as ask or dm and i'll add it to my writing list

• Seungcheol ➝ true story But I'll play whatever part you need me to And I'll be good in it, too ↳ seungcheol was willing to do anything for you, even if it meant destroying himself

• Jeonghan ➝ saturn returns Aha, it's time for you to get real about life and sort out who you really are  ↳ Jeonghan always thought that life would be easier if he just stayed as he was, unmoving. Turns out that there was more to life than just that

• Joshua ➝ we can’t be friends We can't be friends But I'd like to just pretend ↳ you and joshua always traveled through the same friend groups but you were never really close to one another, mostly because you might have carried a crush on him for years. but when joshua suddenly decides that he wants to be friends, you don’t have it in you to say no

• Jun ➝ end of the world Wonder if he’s thinkin’ ‘bout it too and smiling Wonder if he knows that that’s been what's inspirin’ me Wonder if he’s judging me like I am right now ↳ after a first date that went beyond expectations, you couldn't help but wonder if jun too felt those same butterflies when he thought about you

• Soonyoung ➝ eternal sunshine I found a good boy and he’s on my side You’re just my eternal sunshine, sunshine ↳ even after months after your break up, after you met someone new, you can’t help but think back to your relationship with soonyoung, and how you're sure you’ll never truly be able to move on from him, after all he was still your eternal sunshine

• Wonwoo ➝ i wish i hated you our shadow dance in a parallel plane Just two different endings ↳ looking from the outside, you and wonwoo are the same, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. in fact, you couldn't be further away from each other

• Jihoon ➝ Don’t Wanna Break Up Again This situationship has to end But I just can't refuse I don't wanna break up again  ↳ you know you have to get away from jihoon, but whenever he calls you’re ready to run toward him, even if it means breaking your own heart in the process

• Mingyu ➝ bye Didn't think you'd lose me Now it's just too late to choose me ↳ you’re tired of always being the second choice for Mingyu, maybe it’s time for you to become your first option 

• Seokmin ➝ supernatural This love's possessin' me, but I don't mind at all It's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall ↳ you knew that you were falling way too deep for seokmin, but there was no way you’d ever try to catch yourself before you hit the ground

• Vernon ➝ yes, and? Now, I’m so done with caring What you think, no, I won't hide Underneath your projections Or change my most authentic life ↳ throughout all of his life, vernon heard about how uncommon and weird his interests were, so in order to fit in more easily, he did his best to hide the odd away, but he was done doing that, especially when all it did was keep you away from him. 

• Seungkwan ➝ ordinary things It’s funny, but it's true There's never going to be an ordinary thing As long as I'm with you ↳ life with Seungkwan was always extraordinary, he made sure of that

• Chan ➝ the boy is mine Promise you I'm not usually Like this, shit, it's like news to me, to me But I can't ignore my heart, boy ↳ you had always been chill and your relationship with had never been labeled, so at times it was hard to pinpoint where you stood, but one day, at a particular party, when a particular girl showed up, you couldn't help but be jealous

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

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[jlfletcher]

All I Really Want Is You

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: bullet wounds, mentions of potential death (no one dies, just a small injury during a mission). This is told in 3rd person limited POV (of Miguel, mostly?). One-sided kind of. Reader can speak Spanish (is that considered a warning?).

Summary: This is how it all began for Miguel. From mere coincidence to something more. (Fluff/Romance)

Excerpt: "He realizes something and it’s inarguable in his mind... Out of all the Spiders, you’re the anomaly."

A/N: This narrative is actually repurposed from my friend's spidersona story. It didn't have any romance in it originally but my version does and the more I wrote, the more it diverged from their initial story. They said they liked this version and gave me the go ahead to post it because they'll probably never share their's anyway.

Special thank you to my friend who edited this thing. I'm grateful that they were able to help me turn my messy notes and ramblings in a cohesive story.

I get really inspired by music. So, if I do continue to publish installments of this story, they'll most likely be written with songs included.

Also, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. I've never had to format such a long post like this on here before.

Word Count: 13.9k (This is a slow burn)

Breakdown

I'm overworking 'til the sundown

Don't see the light inside my head now

There’s a faint buzzing sound that fills Miguel’s workspace. His eyes are a bit bloodshot and itchy from his lack of blinking. He’s grown irritated by now after hours of surveillance and Lyla badgering him to just take a break already. He keeps swatting her away with languid flicks of his wrist while sighing and rubbing his temple. There’s an ache in his head that’s dull yet ever-present but he feels like rest will not come to him anytime soon. He also remembered that he wanted to run diagnostics on a few of his lab’s systems that would ultimately take a while. The testing is usually run automatically but he’s disabled the scheduled maintenance cycle in order to have tasks to do when he's restless like now. Unfortunately for Miguel’s overactive mind, things have mellowed out in the multiverse for the time being. He's been trying to fill his time as he waits for something, anything to happen. It's caused him to grow a bit on edge as of late. Yes, there are still plenty of anomalies to be dealt with but he’s found the late hours to have grown more quiet. It seems that the uncharacteristic silence has planted an eerie feeling in him that he just can’t shake. What if the moment he steps away, something arises? Lyla calls him paranoid but truthfully, he can’t take the risk of complacency.

Eventually, he plops into his chair and prepares to stare at the monitors for another who knows how many hours. He glances over the society’s various CCTV displays in a sluggish attempt at monitoring the building. Yet, something catches his attention. His eyes zero in on a lone figure in the engineering lab. He blinks a bit slowly and scoots closer to take a better look while disregarding the buttons on the control panel in front of him that actually allows him to zoom in on the feed. The thought had completely escaped his foggy brain thanks to his chronic sleep deprivation. Languidly, his eyes flicker to the time and back up. 4:13 am.

I need to see you in my window

There’s not a doubt in Miguel’s mind about what or more accurately who it may be. It’s your form hunched over the workbench. Your signature pair of shoes gives you away entirely. Frankly, it’s not a surprise at this point. This may be the fourth or fifth time he's noticed your presence at such an unorthodox hour. You always tend to stay late at HQ because of your own odd sleeping schedule. He’s overheard you mention to Jess that your universe has a slight daytime shift compared to the others but he didn’t consider it to be by this much. This was nonetheless a preferred choice of company, albeit in an entirely different area of the building from him, because you're quiet and focus on your work. He's not entirely sure if the two of you have interacted for more than a single minute. Perhaps, that's why he prefers you over others. He's never actually spoken to you outside of very few mission assignments and reports. You've caught his eye before. At first, he noticed you were a bit too quiet. It initially caused suspicion to sew itself within his brain. However, after a brief investigation into you performed by Lyla, he concluded that it's simply the way you behave. Now, when you catch his eye he assumes it's due to how you carry yourself relative to others, professional and efficient. Despite the distance between you two, both figurative and literal in this moment, he finds himself watching you through one of the many floating windows before him. His fingers finally slither among the control panel to switch to a different camera in the lab. After flicking through a couple of feeds, the screen changes to an angle that shows your face. Perhaps he's a bit too tired in this instance because his hazy brain barely registers the way his breath hitches in his throat momentarily.

He's seen your bare face only once before and it summoned the same reaction from him. He's taken aback by how you look. It's a bit of a surprise in all honesty. You're so, for lack of a better term, different. And that's not claimed in some common colloquial way. You are literally different. Here at the society, a handful of faces are circulated between the Spiders. However, yours is unique and undoubtedly you. He's only ever come across one of you, the one that's sitting and tinkering in one of his labs. The last and only time he saw your bare face was a fleeting glance before you quickly shoved your mask back on. He assumes you're a bit shy because of it. However, now he can take his time to really analyze your features. He sees how your brows pinch in concentration and how your eyes look a bit red. Ah, it appears you haven't been blinking properly like him either. He sees how your tongue gently swipes out from your mouth before you nip at your bottom lip. Your hands work on repairing a circuit board with your eyes focused on the corrosion you wipe off. He watches you for a while as you work, finding intrigue in the way you do such mundane tasks as repairing a PCB and reassembling a gadget. Eventually, you sit up and stretch a bit, before rubbing your face in what he collects as either exhaustion or boredom. He understands the feeling, truly. Yet his eyes widen a bit as your eyes look at the camera and he finds himself perking up when he sees you smile. He then zooms out to see that you’re conversing with Lyla. Despite the quick misunderstanding, he finds himself enjoying the scene before him. You speak to her so calmly and casually. Do you often speak with her? Many thoughts start to pop up in his mind about you and your overall enigmatic behavior. Your smile triggers hyperactivity to blossom in his mind, his thoughts reeling at the way you look. Your lips pinch together softly as one side of your mouth curls a bit more than the other. Your brows raise as you speak with Lyla, your contentment is evident. He's caught up in the details of your face and it's nearly instinctual the way the corners of his lips twitch in a subconscious attempt to mirror yours.

And I whisper

All I really want is you

What would you do?

He has formed this habit of watching you in the late nights and early mornings. At first, it was mere coincidence when his eyes lingered on you, maybe even out of some sense of caution, but now he finds himself seeking you out after a month of noticing your constant presence. Lyla teased him about being a creep but he usually just replies with a grunt or the occasional snarky comment. Every night you’re working on something and his curiosity is piqued. However, it appears you work efficiently given how it seems to be a new project every few nights or so. His eyes flutter a bit as he sees Lyla appear next to you. Judging by the way you react to her arrival, it’s just for a chat. He notices how your hands rest over one another in front of you as you nod at what Lyla says, laughing and blinking softly at her. You’re polite when listening, putting down whatever you’re working on to give her your attention. The only assumption he's made from it being that you're simply kind. His eyes are attracted to the way your thumbs twiddle around one another absentmindedly. Do you often fidget like that? He tries to think back on the previous times he witnessed your hands when they were not busy, which is not a common occurrence. And as he watches you, he strokes the panel button under his own thumb subconsciously as if it were the back of your hand. He’s only managed to conclude one thing about them and it’s not about how you fidget.

He mutters to himself deeply in observation, “Pequeñas.”

He looks at your hands, pixelated by the monitor, and then down at his own much bigger ones. He ponders momentarily about just how small they truly are. He's certain that if he were to measure them, the entire length would barely reach 7 inches while his are well past 9, probably even past 10 in actuality. If you placed your palm against his, his hand would completely dwarf yours. If you placed your palm against his... what would it fit like? What would it feel like? What would you do if he held your hand? Wait… why is he thinking about that?

“But,” he mumbles softly as he watches you walk off with Lyla in tow, “I think…”

Laying in the rain with you

Middle of June

It’s been two months since he fully took notice of you that night with his full attention; the night he seen you truly as yourself for the first time. From what Lyla has mentioned, you’ve been here almost every night since you joined the society. It doesn’t bother him that he hadn’t noticed you for so long. To him, it made sense. He often found himself drowned in work. Things were hectic for a while, a long while, but luckily during these past few months, things have been relatively easy. Emergency missions in the middle of the night have been few and far between and usually required only one person to complete them which is why Miguel has been manning the fort all by his lonesome for some time now. However, the only other spider permitted to be at HQ during the overnight hours is you thanks to your completely reversed day-night schedule. The two of you have been on a handful of late night missions together throughout this time but he has yet to speak to you about anything not regarding work. It’s a bit strange if he’s being truthful. You may be the only spider that has never spoken to him casually, ever. Sure, he’s suspected you are antisocial but he hadn’t anticipated it to be by this much. You don’t stand out, you stay focused on your work, and you never talk to anyone. Well, that last one isn’t too unbelievable given the fact that you’re only ever here when everyone else isn’t. Miguel can’t help but wonder if you have ever spoken to anyone in the Society without the intention of completing your professional duties? The closest to such an instance was the one time he heard you speak to Jess which was also the first time he had ever seen you. Jess was going to introduce you to him but he was busy having an argument with Hobie. It never grew to be physical but his shouting certainly must have put you off considering he never saw you around again after that. It makes sense, truthfully, since that was your first impression of him. You must think he's always shouting, irritated, and highly intolerant of disobeying his instruction. That is what he was yelling about at the time after all. Well, that is until he noticed you lingering around the building at night. Honestly, you weren’t even a thought in his mind until Lyla sent him a debriefing of you just before Jess officially assigned you to the night shift. He was going to protest, citing that you have no meritorious experience to do so or something like that but he found out that you don’t actually bother him like everyone else. However, he’s grown very aware of your presence as of late thanks to his more unoccupied overnight schedule.

He even has time to just sit and think about anything other than the multiverse now. Usually, this spare time is occupied by observing you. He likes to sit back and watch all the tasks you do with no one around. He finds it relaxing in a way, which is something he’s grateful for. He’s discovered many things about you through this newfound hobby. You tilt your head with a small pout when you’re confused. You often have music stuck in your head which is made evident by the way you nod your head rhythmically. You rub your face with both hands when you’re tired and only one hand when you’re bored. You like to take power naps under the workbench specifically in the left corner of the lab, closest to the door. You usually wear civilian clothing around HQ at night but always wear the same shoes. You don’t like coffee. You drink tea but it has to be hot with steam billowing from the cup. You drink water more often than tea though, but only at room temperature. You crack your knuckles in 30-minute intervals when you type or tinker for long periods of time. You yawn frequently when the air-conditioner is pointed at you… The list could go on. Honestly, he’s a bit taken aback by how much knowledge he’s retained of your behavior and mannerisms. Why is that exactly? He can’t just claim outright boredom. Watching you is something he avidly chooses to do because he likes it. Bored certainly isn't the word he'd use to describe how observing you makes him feel.

“Why am I doing this?”, he mutters deeply as his eyes watch you type away on a computer. Maybe it’s like a child with an ant farm. It’s simply interesting. No, that doesn’t quite sound right. Even ‘interesting’ doesn’t truly capture how he feels watching you every night.

Soon a bright search window pops up in front of him, making him flinch aggressively. “Lyla!”, he shouts in annoyance as he rubs his stinging eyes; already knowing the culprit.

She pops up next to him with a shrug, “What? You asked a question and I’m answering it.”

He squints softly, his eyes focusing on the window presented to him. There are multiple articles listing words that make him furrow his brows. Intrigue, infatuation, sonder, escapism, comfort-watching. To Lyla’s surprise, he mulls them over but she chalks it up to his sleep deprivation. Some words stick out to him, finding himself unfamiliar with them.

“Comfort-watching.”, he states slowly as he selects the article. It explains what it is and what it stems from, denoting its connection to escapism. “The habitual diversion of the mind to purely imaginative activity or entertainment as an escape from reality or routine.”, he reads aloud, words muffled by his hand stroking his chin. Well, that didn’t make sense, watching you is his routine at this point.

He wouldn’t describe what you do as entertainment in theory and it’s certainly not imaginative. It’s just him watching how you do normal things. He softly chews his lip as he glosses over the other articles.

Lyla mimics his actions and strokes her chin, opening another article in front of her form. “Oh? This’ll be interesting.”, she thinks before speaking to Miguel, who’s now distracted by both the articles and his occasional glances at you. “Why do you like watching y/s/n?” [your spider name]

He replies with a sigh as he waves his hands around, positioning the articles around him, “That's what I’m trying to figure out, Lyla.”

“Just think for a moment. Off the top of your head, what’s one thing you like about doing this?”, she gestures to the monitor containing you. The two of them glance at you through one of the screens standing from your seat and stretching your whole body in an attempt to reduce your exhaustion.

Miguel’s inquisitive eyes soften a bit as he responds earnestly, “It’s familiar.” Lyla’s face flashes a bit in curiosity as she observes his expression. Before she can speak again, he continues, “This is calm and… warm.”

“Warm?”, Lyla asks curiously, her eyes fluttering over the chart in the article she opened. She's notated a couple of checkmarks now, in places she hadn't expected.

His eyes just can’t leave you as he thinks about what he’s said. It’s hard to put exactly into words, “I… appreciate her presence. She’s always there and it makes me feel comfortable.” There’s a strange feeling that stirs inside him upon hearing the words he formulates in response. You, a complete stranger, have somehow become a totem of routine in his eyes. Because after watching you nearly every night, you are always there working. Always. Despite the strange and unpredictable multiverse the two of you reside in, you sit in one of his labs, typing away on a computer. In a sense you’ve become the embodiment of normal.

Lyla repeats quietly but not lacking the casual tone she usually holds, “Her… Do you ever want to talk to y/s/n?”

He hums in thought before replying with an unsure shrug, “Honestly… I never even considered that. I don’t think I need to.”

Lyla glances back at the article and then back to Miguel, “But do you want to?”

His movements stall as her question hangs in the air. He takes a moment to apprehend what she’s asking. His eyes trail slowly from the articles floating around him to you on the CCTV display. You're crawling under that specific workbench in the left corner of the lab for what he knows is a power nap; he finds himself almost smiling at that. Does he want to talk to you? He ponders a situation in which he finds himself conversing with you casually. What would you talk about? He knows you like tea. Would you talk about your favorite kind? What is your favorite kind? How would you pronounce it? How do you pronounce certain words like caramel or aluminum? Maybe like aluminium? Maybe you say it differently than he does. He can imagine a light-hearted debate over phonetics, the two of you drowsy from the late night hours. Maybe you’ll tease him about the way he says it. How would you say… his name? You’ve spoken his name before on missions with a professional tone, always addressing him by his surname. It irks him a bit but he's never gotten around to informing you to just call him Miguel… How would you sound calling out to him in a tone that's amicable and familiar?

He’s broken out of his thoughts by Lyla waving her pixelated arms in front of him and a shout of his name, “Miguel!” He jolts at the sound of an alarm beeping around him. Bold words pop out in front of him, “ANOMALY DETECTED”. He hears his family name called out and straightens at the sound. That’s not Lyla's voice. He turns around to see you in your suit, tucking the hem of your mask into your collar as you trek to his platform. His hand waved behind him, minimizing the displays floating around him to hide the clues to his distraction with a single motion.

He hears you speak in a sober tone as you stand before him, “Lyla informed me that we’re both needed for this one. There’s an anomaly running around a metropolitan area on Earth-26. It travels quickly so we'll have to chase after it. Also, there doesn’t appear to be anyone to help.” He nods quickly, navigating through the multiversal map on his watch to open a portal. He nearly flinches as you gently grasp his forearm, looking up at him slowly.

“O'Hara,” you said calmly, which made him look at you curiously, “full stealth on this one. I’m uncertain how this universe would respond to… our kind.”

His lips nearly press into his natural pout under his mask as you address him by his family name but quickly absorbs what you're truly saying to him. He’s had a couple run-ins with a universe like this before and understands your concern entirely. He slowly pulls your hand from his forearm. The size difference doesn’t skip past him and makes something buzz in the back of his brain. Yet it’s subconscious, the way his fingers linger around yours before he releases them and states firmly, “Stay close to me.” You nod in understanding which he reciprocates before opening a portal. You flip open your watch and quickly calibrate your interface and send sync data to his watch to stay connected during the mission. It’s strange how ready you appear to be but it’s greatly appreciated. He hadn’t realized that he was staring before you turned towards him. You tilt your head softly and unbeknownst to you, he knows without a doubt that it’s out of curiosity. He gives you a nod, hoping it didn’t look as strange as he felt doing it. You step through the portal first and he’s quick to follow after as Lyla observes it all with an inquisitive squint.

All I really want is you

This was an uncommon feeling. You two chased after the anomaly, zipping through the sleeping city's skies quickly. Luckily, you both haven’t been spotted by anyone as you swing through the late-night drizzle. He started feeling a bit… he supposes ‘at ease’ is the best way to put it. He’s not foolish enough to grow complacent mid-mission but being on mission with you, working so seamlessly with him, made this feel easy. You’re professional, giving clear cues and staying on the same page. It’s as if you can hear what he’s thinking. Sure lego Spider-man is a good teammate but you’re a good partner.

The anomaly made its way to a rooftop with you right on its tail. You landed quickly with a soft roll before keeping low to the ground while Miguel landed behind you with a soft grunt. You crouched a bit as you tiptoed around gently, trying not to alarm the anomaly located somewhere nearby. He waits on standby, keeping a lookout for anyone who might see you two while you try to catch the small creature. You freeze as you see the silhouette of it, patting the ground with stubby limbs, seemingly ready to take flight again. That is until you squat down and pat the ground too. It looks at you and tilts its head, another action that you mimic before removing your mask. It slowly walks to its right and you gently shuffle to your left. You release a chuckle as you can see something that looks like a tail wagging. The noise meets Miguel’s ears and he turns to find you squatting and maskless. His eyes widen at the sight, fighting the hitch in his breath as he sees your h/c hair, it looks much softer in person. His eyes narrow is realization as he quickly replaces his intrigue with his usual pragmatism.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he speaks monotone, “What are you doing?”

You release a slow and soft, “Shhhh.” You then gently raise your hand, motioning him to approach you. His fingers twitch instinctively as he looks at your flopping hand and surprises himself by reaching out for it. However, his mellow emotions are doused in confusion as you tug him down quickly. He nearly falls on top of you, clearly not anticipating such sudden strength from you. Luckily, he manages to brace himself, kneeling behind you, and leaning a bit over your shoulder. He’s about to ask what the hell you’re doing when you point to the far corner of the rooftop. His eyes widen as he watches the dark creature slowly slink toward the two of you.

You breathe out quietly to Miguel, “Deactivate your mask.” He turns to you in shock despite you not looking at him. He’s about to protest before you whisper, “It needs to see your face.”

He acquiesces your command and slowly retracts his mask. The air nips at his warm face as he spies the creature tilting its head. You tilt your head too while whispering to him, “Mimic what it does.”

Miguel begins to protest but you quickly cut off his words, “Why-?”

“Just do it.” He nearly rolls his eyes at your sudden command but finds himself following suit as he tilts his head too. He watches curiously as the creature pats the ground with its left paw and you mirror it with your right hand. He grows a bit amused watching the two of you continue this little dance until it slowly crawls closer to you both. Miguel can hear your breath hitch as the creature steps into the light shining from over the door to the rooftop you all are on. It’s dark and covered with scales, with large blue eyes and bat-like wings. Your hand is still placed on the ground as the creature cautiously closes the distance between you. You cautiously turn your hand palm up, Miguel is confused by this but continues to watch nonetheless. The creature's eyes look up at you warily with tightly constricted pupils. You then turn your head, facing away from it and toward Miguel quickly. He barely manages to lean back enough to avoid you smacking your head into his shoulder.

He looks at you quizzically as you whisper to him, “Keep your eyes on me.” His brows furrow which indicates his clear confusion at your command. You respond cautiously yet softly, “Don’t look it in the eyes. It’s still scared.” Miguel slowly nods in understanding as his eyes stay on yours. 

There’s something that fizzles in his ears as he stares at you. Your eyes are oddly… calming. He’s never thought of looking at them before. At least not in an intentional way like this, unlike the usual polite eye contact you’re obligated to give someone you work with. It's so strange seeing you in person up close like this. He also has to fight the heat he feels making its way onto his cheeks at your close proximity. Your eyes sparkle a bit from the dim moonlight and there's drops of rain littered around your hair. You look so soft and inviting. There's not a sliver of malice anywhere across your features. He's sure this small anomaly is smart enough to come to you.

Soon he feels his lungs quiver in his chest as he watches your eyes crinkle as you smile. You’re chuckling. Why are you chuckling? His ears are roaring by the time you turn back toward the creature. His gaze lingers on the side of your face before looking down at the little one who’s currently licking and nuzzling into your hand, giving it playful nips. He smiles at that, grateful that this mission will end easier than expected.

The creature jumps on you and licks your face with a happy warble. Miguel tenses, worried that it may be attacking you until you release a giggle as you coo warmly, slowly standing with the creature wrapped in your arms. The sound tingles in Miguel's ears and he can’t help but watch you almost mesmerized as you carry the creature carefully before he stands back up next to you.

You comfort the creature with soft words as your nimble fingers quickly fashion a tracker to the little beast then click your watch. You speak calmly as you stare down at the baby creature with a smile, “Lyla, may you please check for any residual anomalies?” Lyla appears behind the creature and gives you a little salute before her visage flits around and scans the area. Miguel approaches to inspect the animal but leans back when it attempts to sniff at him which makes you chuckle at his stiffness. Then, you gently scratch between the animal’s horns as you walk closer to him to let it smell him properly. He stands awkwardly, watching its nostrils flare with each sniff of his arm.

You look around at the skyline behind him with a sigh, “What a view. Do you ever-”. Your voice fades off quickly as you squint, looking at something in the distance. Miguel notices as your hand stops moving and you cradle the creature protectively. Before he can even look at you, you shout while shoving him to the ground roughly, “Sniper!”. You yelp as something pierces your forearm violently, making your knees wobble. The creature jumps out of your hold, having sensed your body going limp before you slump into Miguel’s arms. The creature nuzzles into your dangling hand with a sad whine.

Miguel immediately enters high alert. He stays low as shots ring out above you, dragging you behind a structure to obstruct you all from whatever the hell is attacking. You're slumped against him as he shakes you softly with a tense voice, patting your face anxiously, “Y/s/n? Y/s/n wake up!” He sees the creature standing on its hind legs pawing at your thigh, looking up at him with scared eyes. Miguel shouts out into the air, “Lyla!” Immediately, a portal opens in front of you three.

Lyla speaks in a rushed tone, looking down at you worriedly, “I didn’t detect any more anomalies. Hurry.” Miguel scoops up both you and the anomaly, holding you tight as he jumps through the portal quickly.

What would you do?

Sleeping outside, the moon

Tripping with you

Miguel’s quick as he carries you to the med bay, the anomaly’s little legs trying to keep up with his long, wide strides. He places you on a bed and pulls up a med pod. He runs a full scan of your body and finds a bit of relief when it is concluded that you got dosed with a tranquilizer but he’s still tense. Usually a tranq doesn’t work that instantaneously; nor does it cause a strong shift in your blood pressure like this… It’s almost as if it’s thinned your blood. He sanitizes and gloves up quickly before grabbing some supplies to remove the projectile lodged in your arm. Fortunately, it doesn't take too long to remove all the pieces of the dart that broke apart. There's a bad feeling in his stomach as he does. He's never seen a tranq dart do such a thing. Why is it so fragile? Miguel has Lyla analyze the fragments while he cleans the wound.

He steals a glance at the little creature sitting in the doorway, its eyes watching you intently. He speaks evenly as he floods the wound with saline, gently patting it dry, “Don’t worry, she’s okay. She’s just sleeping.” He finishes wrapping your arm gingerly with a bandage and pulls the bed sheet over you, raising each of your arms to rest over the sheet. He stares at your hand in his for a moment. It’s warm. Your hands are warm and tiny compared to his. So, that’s how they feel… He blinks himself out of his thoughts and gently sets your hand down by your side to let you rest.

“You can come over. I’m done but she won’t be awake for a while.” Miguel says before looking over at the little beast. He’s almost surprised when it appears to understand what he’s said. After all, you did mention during the mission that it seemed highly intelligent relative to other wild animals. It stands, slowly trudging over before hopping onto the bed beside your leg. It looks at you and then turns to crawl on you cautiously as if it’s afraid of hurting you. After a few moments of hesitation, it pats the bed, circling a few times before settling down between your feet. Finally, it rests its chin on your leg, looking at you with large eyes while its tail curls around itself, and releases a soft bleat.

The display of how gentle it acts with you nearly makes him scoff in disbelief. It’s hard to believe that this is the same angry little beast that tried to claw at him earlier in the night. He's almost offended, truthfully. Why was it so mean to him? It seems to act like a cat, aggressive one moment then clingy the next. Miguel's eyes drift back up to look at you as he works around the room. He thinks for a moment to himself, "I guess between the two of us, I'd go to her too." He shakes the thoughts from his head. Miguel plops back onto the stool beside your bed with a sigh, having just finished cleaning up the soiled supplies. He yawns and scratches his jaw tiredly before he crosses his arms over his chest. The adrenaline that was once in his body is now long gone and his prior exhaustion floods him tenfold. However, he’s able to mutter with droopy eyes that watch your peaceful sleeping face, “What were you going to ask me?” He soon couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, his body feeling heavy and slowly slumping over as he drifted off to sleep. 

Head down

Miguel groans as he feels something slimy on his forehead. He squints harshly at the light that penetrates his eyelids but before he can get up to stretch he freezes at what he hears.

"Hey, hey. Don't do that, little one. He needs to rest."

He's about to just sit up to explain that it's too late but your voice breaks through with a gentle coo. "Oh. Look what you did, honey. You messed it up…"

Before his mind can propel itself into countless thoughts of hearing you say the pet name in such an endearing way, he feels something gently card through his hair. There's something that erupts down his spine at the sensation and that faint fizzling in his ears returns. Especially when he can feel your fingers graze against his helix as you sweep some strands of his hair behind it. He feels his body melt at your ministrations.

Now, he chooses not to move or open his eyes. He pretends to be asleep on what he can blindly tell is the edge of the bed you’re resting in. He enjoys this, the sound of your voice as you comfort and hush the little anomaly the two of you caught. He hears sad warbling and feels the bed move a bit. He manages to cautiously crack an eye open to peek at you cradling the creature close as it sniffs and licks your bandage gently.

You speak softly to it, "Hey, shh-shh. It's okay, I'm okay. See?" You poke the bandage, not where the wound is but the edge of it, to prove that it's fine. You point at Miguel which causes him to shut his eyes quickly before you speak again, "He protected me and helped me get better. So, it's okay." He feels the bed shift as you quietly chuckle, "Ah, ah. Don’t do that, love. I don't want to wake him up, he was really tired." He can sense you stopping the creature from approaching him further as you stand.

There's a soft shuffle that can be heard around him before he feels something drape over his shoulders. You speak so delicately near his ear as you cover him, “Thank you for taking care of me. Sweet dreams.”

He hears the rustling of fabric and the soft plodding of your feet along the floor accompanied by your voice, "Okay, baby. Let's go." Miguel's eyes peek open to see you walking out of the infirmary with the little creature trotting next to you.

Once you’re gone he turns his head, pulling the fabric off his back. It's your cardigan. The one that you were wearing earlier before the mission. His eyes still feel heavy as he bunches up the fabric under him. His nose is flooded with a scent he's unused to. It smells warm and comfortable and soon he drifts off again with his arms wrapped securely around your cardigan below his head.

That’s what you are, he thinks. Warm and comfortable.

I don't know when to come up for air now

It's been a couple of days since your e-26 mission together and you haven't spoken since. Like usual, you spend the night in the lab and Miguel busies himself with some backlogged reports. However, his eyes still glance over to the monitor displaying you occasionally. He's noticed that you haven't worked as much as before. Sure, you’ve tinkered with a few things but you mostly just write in a notebook and slump over the workbench now. He pauses to inspect your face then switches to a camera angle that shows what you're writing. Oh. You're not writing, you're sketching something. He zooms in to see a picture of the anomaly you two sent back after Miguel woke up that morning. Just as he thought, you were depressed because your little friend had to go back home. That’s a lie, he hadn’t actually thought of that at all. Truthfully, he was starting to grow concerned that something was wrong with you… He watches as you add detail to the eyes, the tip of your pencil faintly tracing along the paper to simulate each streak across its irises. It's this that reminds him of when he stared into your eyes. They're much richer than expected, drowned in a color that is so… you. It's you because it's comforting and relaxing and deep. Comfortable and warm. He remembers the words with a soft hum.

He catches something bright appearing next to you. It's Lyla. He's found that you two converse almost every night. What do you two talk about? How many things have you discussed? There’s something unknown that bubbles in the pit of his stomach as these thoughts fill his head. Eventually, his curiosity gets the best of him and he switches on the audio feed. The thought of this being a violation of your privacy, completely slipping past him. He gently sits down as he listens to the two of you talk.

"Raon? What does it mean?", Lyla questions curiously.

You rest your chin on your hand as you lean against the table, looking up at Lyla with a warm smile as you reply, "It means joyful. He looks just like… ah, it’s nothing." You trailed softly but soon chuckled with a wave of your hand.

The scene before him makes Miguel smile softly to himself. It’s such a mundane conversation yet he finds enjoyment from it. Especially from the soft chuckle that comes from you. 

"Hey, did you ever get around to-" Lyla begins but is cut off by your quick response.

"Nope… sorry.", You apologize with a bow of your head, realizing you interrupted her, "I should probably soon, huh?"

"Uh, yeah. The window of validity is closing, bud.", Lyla conjures up a window beside her before shutting it slowly as she raises a brow at you.

You nod and sigh, standing from your seat before turning to leave, "You're right. Thanks for reminding me, Lyla."

She hums to you before disappearing off the screen. She soon pops up next to Miguel who’s watching the feed of you walking through a corridor. She leans over his shoulder and speaks near his ear, "Stalker much?"

Miguel jolts at that and quickly exits off the camera display. He grunts and pulls some reports in front of him in a feeble attempt to cover up what he was doing, "I'm not a stalker."

She smirks and sings with an almost smug tone, "Ah, c'mon. It's just a joke, Miguel. Don't pout."

He states evenly as his eyes glance over the files presented before him, “Not pouting.”

“You never answered my question, y’know?”

“What question?”

“Do you want to talk to y/s/n?” She emphasizes her words with raised brows as she slowly orbits around his head to face him.

He blinks in thought, recalling the recent mission. You’re unfinished words wading upon the surface of his mind and truthfully they have been in his thoughts ever since you first uttered them into the night air. It wasn’t in your usually professional tone. It sounded more casual and unfortunately, you were cut short before finishing your sentence. “Do you ever… Do I ever what?”, he muses as his fingers rub at the side of his chin. He nods slowly before mumbling, “Yes… I think I do.”

Lyla bends down to smirk smugly at him with her arms akimbo, “Good.”

He squints at her and voices his confusion, “What do you mean? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“O’Hara?”, he stiffened as his eyes went wide at the sound of your voice. He composes himself quickly with a low grunt before turning to you.

Unfortunately, you misunderstand this, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“You’re not interrupting me. I just remembered something. Did something happen?”

You absorb his fast-paced sentences, “No, I just wanted to talk to you.”

He’s shocked by this but his face doesn’t show it. If only you knew of the discussion you just interrupted by coming here.

“I wanted to formally thank you for taking care of me.”, you spoke calmly while looking up at him on his platform. He noticed your hand resting over your bandaged arm, confusion taking over his features. You noticed this and looked down at your arm too, nodding before your gaze returned to him. You subconsciously rub the bandage as you speak, “Ah, this. I don’t… heal as quickly as the rest of you.”

He mulls over your words, the rest of you. You speak in a way that alienates yourself from the Spiders. It’s a phrase he can understand due to him constantly being put in his own category relative to the other spider-people. Other… He supposes he speaks about himself the same as you. So that’s that sense of familiarity explained, albeit partially. He asks with his naturally stoic expression, “Why is that?” He watches with furrowed brows as you think of how to respond.

You softly shake your head with a shrug, “I just don’t.”

Before either of you can speak again, Lyla questions while pointing at you next to Miguel. There’s a small smirk on her face, “Hey, y/s/n? What’s that?” Miguel looks at her curiously before looking down at the box in your hands.

“Oh, this is just… This is for you, O’Hara.”, you take a step forward towards his platform. Miguel’s brows shoot up not only at what you say but at his now descending platform. He looks over to Lyla who smirks at him, clearly the cause. He clears his throat as his workspace reaches your level, “Is it something to sign off on?” He thinks that maybe you’re ready to beta-test new equipment that needs approval first.

You shake your head and hand the box to him with a small smile, “No. This is a thank you.”

He furrows his brows again as he slowly opens the box with his words trailing off, “A thank you?...” It’s… they’re empanadas. You just gave him a box of empanadas as a thank you? 

“I heard Jess mention you liked empanadas. Sorry, they’re not the ones from the cafeteria though.”

He stares at them for a few more seconds. They’re warm. Are they fresh? How? It’s almost 3 am. Did you pick them up from your universe? “You didn’t have to give me this. I didn’t really-”

“You saved my life.” His eyes widen a bit as they meet yours. Ah. So you found out…

Your hands wring together nervously as you speak, “Lyla showed me the analysis of the fragments you pulled from my arm. Etorphine is a strong agent as is but it was formulated into a high-dose soluble projectile. If you hadn’t helped me so quickly, it would have dissolved into my blood and…”

“Thank you.”, Miguel all but whispers with his head down.

“You don’t have to thank me for thanking yo-”

“You took that shot for me.”, he quickly cuts you off. His eyes slowly trailing up to meet yours with firm sincerity. “Why did you take that shot?”

You rub your nape as you avoid his gaze and reply in an almost soft voice, “Ah. I didn’t really think about it… my body just moved on its own.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence that spreads between you two as you both avoid each other’s eyes. Miguel stares back down at the food before speaking, “You really didn’t have to give me these.”

You speak with gentle hand gestures, a trait he didn’t know you had until now, “No, no. Please take them. I made them to thank you. It’s how I show proper gratitude. Honestly, I don’t think it’s enough.”

He looks at you in thought before looking back down at them with raised brows and a gentle smirk, “You made them?”

You tense, eyes darting to Lyla but she only offers you a quiet snicker. You sigh before nodding slowly, “Yes, I did. I’m sorry if you think they taste bad.”

He’s amused at your word choice. You didn’t say if they taste bad, you said if he thinks they taste bad. So you cook. And it sounds like you cook well given how confidently you speak about what you make.

Before he speaks, Lyla asks you something and motions you toward the control panel, “Y/n/n, come take a look at this.” [your nickname]

You bow your head briefly at Miguel with a modest smile before making your way to the screen Lyla opens for you. That’s another habit of yours he wasn’t fully aware of. He stands back and watches as you point at the screen and discuss it with Lyla. Your arms cross as you stand before the monitors, your face morphed from your inquisitiveness as you inspect the blueprint Lyla shows you. This makes him calm again. Watching you always made him calm and relaxed. However, it feels a bit stronger when you’re standing just a meter or so away from him. With you here now, so close to him, he actually feels warm. There’s a heat that surrounds him that he just can’t really explain. He continues his musings before taking a bite of the empanada absentmindedly but his eyes shoot down at the food as he tastes it. These aren’t like the ones from the cafeteria, they’re far better. The cafeteria carries standard beef empanadas. Beef and seasoning, it’s hard to mess it up. But these? Is this stew? This is honestly the best thing he's eaten in a long time. His foot stutters as he prevents himself from stepping closer to you and swallows the delicious bite before mumbling, “Are these-”

“Salteñas, sí.” His eyes travel up to see you looking back at him with a warm smile and nod. The way you say it is so natural. It rolls off your tongue so smoothly. Do you speak Spanish?

“Wow, it eats!”, Lyla cheers sarcastically.

“Lyla!”, he groans in annoyance.

“What do you-”, you unfurl your arms and look at him with what he recognizes as concern, “Sir, are you not eating properly?” You turn to face him completely and approach him slowly when all he returns is silence.

Lyla floats over to you, her voice laced with a haughty tone as she tattles, “No. No, he is not.” He grunts and tries to snatch her holographic form. His hand just misses her as she teleports to your other side with a giggle.

“O’Hara,” you call to him in a tone that’s so soft while still holding firmness. That’s new. It’s not as casual as he imagined and you’re still addressing him by his surname but he’s still pleased with how it sounds coming from you in that tone. “How often do you eat?”

He tenses a bit and looks away from your eyes before he gets lost in more of his thoughts. “I eat.” His brows furrowed as he mentally berates himself for his obvious statement. Of course, he eats. Estúpido. His embarrassment quickly triggered his next words despite how unexpected they are, even to him, “What does it matter to you?”

He feels an odd sense of uneasiness as he notices your lack of reaction. He’s quick to attempt to amend his words, “It’s appreciated but it’s none of your concern when I do and don’t eat.” Then there is more silence. It weighs heavily in the air awkwardly. He realizes his words may seem a bit harsh given how tense his voice is. He’s unsure what to say now and for once the silence from you isn’t so comfortable.

“O’Hara.”, you say more sternly as you cross your arms. He can’t help the way he feels like a child being scolded by their teacher. What truly catches him off guard is how firm your tone is despite how gentle you look at him, “Stop deflecting.”

It all makes him feel a bit small despite him being the one looking down at you due to your apparent size difference. He’s never been fond of his height. It’s annoying and cumbersome but the way your body positions itself to stare at him makes him think that it’s not that bad. Your head has to tilt back for your eyes to meet his. Those rich eyes of yours… The e/c encompasses your pupils in such an inviting way [eye color]. And each time you blink he catches a glimpse of how your lashes flutter against your skin. His eyes slowly travel along your features. Your forehead creases softly as your brows raise. The action makes your eyes appear larger as you look up at him. Then he sees your lips moving slowly. They’re not shiny nor are they chapped. But they do look smooth as he sees the tip of your tongue softly curl behind your teeth as you speak. Your words slowly grow less foggy before he flinches at the feeling of your hand gently holding his forearm. There’s a slight ringing in his ears as your voice finally reaches him.

“Mr. O’Hara, are you okay? You’re flushed.”

“What?”, he breathes out in a rushed tone before his eyes focus out to see the entirety of your worried expression. He gently tugs at the collar of his suit uncomfortably. He actually feels the heat now, it’s more intense than before.

“You’re burning up. It’s warm in here too…”. You quickly grab the box of food from his hand and place it on a nearby tabletop before pulling him toward the entrance of his work area. “Here, come with me.”

You take my hand like there's a way out (way out)

And we're escaping through the window

Miguel isn’t sure how but he now finds himself in a rather unfamiliar situation. You’re dragging him around by the wrist. However, it’s apparent that he follows seamlessly behind you. It feels natural for him to just maintain your lead, especially when there’s very little energy within him to resist. He watches how you walk in front of him. You walk in a way that makes you look smaller than you actually are. It’s as if you’re trying to hide. Why is that? Your shoulders are slouched a bit forward as you guide him through the corridors. His eyes drift to the back of your head, watching the way your hair gently bounces with each one of your steps. You halt for a moment which causes him to nearly stumble into you. Your grip on his wrist falters briefly before sliding down to take him by the hand. The action completely slips past you as you decide where to walk next, but it surely does not get past him. He has to fight the urge to squeeze his hand around yours but utterly fails. He’s not too upset about this. Truthfully, most of his awareness was occupied by trying not to let his claws protrude from his fingertips. You turn back to look at him but he’s quick to avoid your eyes, oscillating his head mindlessly.

You must have taken this as a sign of his unwell state because soon you're tugging him through the cafeteria with a firm whisper, “Over there. You need fresh air.”

His red face and his lack of words must make him appear as though he won’t be able to last the trek to the infirmary. You gently squeeze his hand which makes his eyes snap back to you quickly. Making your way to the large terrace, you push the glass door open. The air sweeps past you both as you guide him to sit on one of the patio chairs scattered among the outdoor area. His eyes are dazed as he looks up at you standing in front of him but they haven’t left you for even a moment since you squeezed his hand. But now your hand is no longer in his. He’s surprised to find himself a bit annoyed at that. You’re moving too fast, he thinks. All your actions are slipping away from him thanks to his hazy mind and he doesn’t appreciate it. You pull a handkerchief out of your back pocket and pat his sweaty forehead. His eyes watch you as you do. Your lips press into a line as you gently bite your bottom lip. Your eyes are full of concern as they roam over the sight of his flushed face. You remove your hand from his space as you step back a bit, wanting to let him feel the light breeze.

He spies how your hands start to reach out but retract back to your side, settling on your hips instead. You speak evenly as you look at him, “Are you okay? Does that feel better?” It’s gradual as he breaks out of his cloudy stupor, the wind finally cooling him down. He nods slowly before something slithers out of his brain and past his lips.

And I whisper

“What?”, you tilt your head curiously.

“Miguel….”, he breathes out, “My name is Miguel.”

You blink at him and speak with a bit of concern, “I know tha-”

“I don’t like being called O’Hara or Sir or Mr. O’Hara. Call me Miguel.”

You nod softly as you take in his words before giving him a small smile, “Okay. From now on I’ll call you Miguel.”

He almost smiles at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue but catches himself before it’s too late. His brows furrowed in confusion as you gently extended your hand toward him. You smile softly as you gently grasp his hand and shake it with a kind tone, “My name is y/n. It’s only fair that you address me as such.”

His brain stalls for a few moments, absorbing your name. It’s so fitting in a previously unknown yet expectedly pleasant way. Of course, that’s your name. He looks up at you in thought as you gently pull your hand from his, “Y/n, huh? It’s… pretty.”

He tenses in realization for a moment before slowly speaking, ensuring that his own curiosity remains undetectable, “The other night on e-26, on the rooftop. What were you going to ask me?”

You’re taken aback and stand back up, your lip jutting out in a pout as you try to remember. Your eyes wander to the table beside the two of you in thought but Miguel’s eyes stay on you. He takes in the sight of your face morphed in contemplation. It’s the same look he’s seen countlessly through the late nights. Except this time, it’s not pixelated or blurry from his monitors. Now, he can see you up close. He can see clearly how your chin softly wrinkles as you purse your lips and the way your eyes crinkle at the outer corners. It’s almost comical how earnestly he takes in such ordinary features with the same scrupulousness as a lab experiment.

“Do you ever look out at the skyline… and feel at peace?” The words flow out of you softly as you move to sit on the patio table next to him. Your eyes glide up to look at the lights below that decorate the horizon.

Miguel finally tears his eyes from you to look at the skyline before you both. It’s hard to hear the vehicles from up here but he knows they’re there. He can see the lights flicker and wane in the distance as his body relaxes into the chair. He realizes how familiar he is with the scene and breathes out lowly, “Yes. I do.”

He can see you smile in his peripherals before your voice fills the space between you, “I’ve always found comfort in the horizon and the view of the land below. The sunrise and sunset. I think Raon would have been mesmerized by this view of the city lights.”

He turns to look at you curiously, “Raon?” Truthfully, he was a bit curious about the word you mentioned to Lyla earlier.

You nod with a hum, crossing your legs and propping your chin on your elbows as you get comfortable. “The baby creature from our mission. Raon.”

Miguel notices how the word our rattles around his brain but pushes that feeling aside. He attempts to overpower it with a wry remark, “Did you name the anomaly?”

You release a breathy chuckle and nod, “Kind of. There’s a story from my universe that had a baby dragon named Raon Miru in it. Looked exactly like him too, blue eyes and all.”

He finds relief now not just in observing you but in your close presence and words. He’s intrigued by what you say. He can’t quite place the origin of such a unique name. He knows Japanese but he’s unsure if that is its correct origin. He takes a moment to look at you in thought, certain that he wants to hear more, “That name, what does it mean?”

“It’s a bit on the nose, truthfully. It means ‘joyful dragon’.”

“Raon Miru.”, he repeats to himself as he turns back to look at the skyline with you. There’s a comfortable silence that swells between you both. It takes a few more moments before your voice slithers into the empty space.

“Do you truly not eat well?”

He turns to look at you again but immediately regrets it. Well, not really. Your eyes are full of concern as they meet his. He sighs and shakes his head, “No. I don’t.”

“Why?” You ask so simply as your eyes never leave him.

He bites the inside of his cheeks and contemplates whether he should brush this off and lie or just tell you the truth. He chooses the latter, citing that he genuinely enjoys your consideration. “I’m busy. I lose track of time and just forget.”

Lyla finally decides to pop up next to you, “Hey, y/s/n. You actually remember to eat stuff. Mind keeping Miguel in check for me?”

Miguel stiffens quickly shaking his head to protest but before he can, you respond. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Cool.”, Lyla nods and disappears having completed her job as instigator.

His eyes travel to yours in question only for you to smile gently at him with a tilt of your head. “I need to make sure you’re properly taken care of.”

Need, you say. Not want. The way you say it so matter-of-factly makes his lungs quiver, just like that night. His mouth shuts as he slowly leans back in his chair. The way you look at him lets him know that there’s no room for debate. You nod with a smile as you watch him acquiesce your response. “Good. So, did you like the salteñas?”

He nods and speaks with a low hum, “Yes, they were good.”

You beam at that and lean toward him unconsciously, “Really? I was worried there for a second. By the way you heated up, I thought you had a bad reaction.” You straighten up as your features quickly morph in realization of something before speaking, “That reminds me. Lyla?”

“Yo.”, she appears in front of you like a pop-up ad.

“What’s the temperature in Miguel’s work area?”

She conjures up a thermostat and squints at it, “Yeesh, 85°F and climbing. At the time of reporting, it is approximately 20 degrees higher than average. Excessive heat appears to be emitting from a ground-level display console.”

“Oh, may you please-”

“Filtering and cooling as we speak, captain.”, her little hand bumping her forehead to salute you in assurance. “I’ve shut off the machine since it’s under minimal usage priority. Consider this a work order.”

You chuckle at her antics, “Thank you, dear. I’ll be sure to repair it asap. It also sounds like your active monitoring is on the fritz, I’ll check that too.” You then turn to Miguel, leaning in inquisitively to see if he’s cooled down enough.

He questions absentmindedly with an almost gravelly mumble, “Hablas español?” [Do you speak Spanish?]

You're taken aback but smile softly, “Sí, pero no lo hablo con fluidez.” [Yes, but I’m not fluent in it.]

He finds the corners of his mouth gently lifting at your words, “Me suenas fluido. Tu acento es natural.” [You sound fluent to me. Your accent is natural.]

Your smile seems to grow ever so gently as you nod, “Thank you. I grew up in a diverse place. Lots of people spoke languages other than English.”

Miguel found himself completely relaxed as he spoke with you about anything and everything. Like that, the conversation flowed between you for a long while.

All I really want is you

What would you do?

Your brows shoot up in shock before a small smile blooms on your face. “Good. Let’s meet out on the terrace at 3 am. You better not leave me hanging.”

He smirks at your warning in amusement, you said it in such a way that carries no real malice. He nods in understanding as you two walk side by side languidly, back to his work area. The conversation hasn’t stopped. Miguel thinks this is the longest he’s ever talked to someone, speaking more words in these last couple of hours with you than he has to anyone in months. It’s odd to him how easy it is to talk with you. It makes him feel like he’s conversing with an old friend.

He’s lost in content conversation with you as you two enter back into his lab and continues even after you begin to work. He leans against the main control panel on his platform as he watches you repair the display console that practically turned his work area into an oven. Miguel’s arms are crossed over his chest, somehow unsure of what to do with his hands. He speaks with a more calm tone, “So you’re the one who does repairs around here? You’d think I, of all people, would know that.”

“I actually did think you already knew that but I suppose me coming in here and working on your tech while you’re out during the day is a bit of a clue as to why you didn’t.” You calmly respond to him. Your voice is just a bit louder than normal in order to ensure he can hear you properly. After all, half of your body is inside a relatively large electronics console.

“So what’s the issue here then?”

"Just a basic issue. Overclocked GPUs and faulty heatsinks don't really mix well.", you sigh with a shrug after gently crawling out of the unit to drop some screws into a small tray beside you. You present a damaged PCB to him and point at a burnt section of it with the tip of your screwdriver, “See, a few of them have blown fuses.”

He’s tuned into what you say and nods in acknowledgment. He knows what you’re talking about and enjoys it because it’s not rushed and not frantic like during the day. It’s calm and comfortable.

"Although I told Pete to run manual diagnostics on this which he said he did. Liar." 

Miguel is amused by your annoyed grumble as you work. He’s a bit curious as to why you refer to Peter by nickname when you’ve only started calling him by his given name a couple hours ago but he figures it’s fine since Peter is the one who initially recruited you from what he can recall. 

Miguel leans a bit over to peek at the mess that is the internal hardware before you crawl back inside. "I'm going to guess that he didn't even look at this at all."

"Yeah, pretty safe to assume that. I should have known better than to ask him. He's been preoccupied lately.", you groan from inside the panel. You look a bit funny like this, with half your body inside the console.

“Why did you ask Peter to look at it then?”, Miguel asks a bit curiously.

“Um, my arm was still messed up, Sir. I couldn’t really pronate it without feeling uncomfortable.”

He hears how nonchalantly you say it and senses that you don’t want to bring up the injury again. He nods curtly to himself and continues while changing the subject, “Don't call me Sir. It makes me feel old.”

You smile softly to yourself as you respond, “Sorry, it’s a hard habit to shake. I mean, you are the boss. But you shouldn’t worry, you’re not old by a long shot. In fact, I’m your elder…”

Your last few words are muffled but he manages to pick them up. His brows raise in intrigue as he asks, “Is that so?”

The way you tense at what he says doesn’t slip past him but you soon answer in a calm voice, “My universe’s present year is several decades earlier than here. So despite being biologically younger than you, I am chronologically n/y years older than you.” [number of years]

Miguel turns to work on some reports as he says, “Well, you still look spry enough to handle the duties of a Spider.”

You nearly snort at his comment. You must have not expected it, judging by your reaction. You continue to work, your eyes focused on the components you inspect as you jest in a sardonic tone, “Thanks, jefe. I’m glad to know you think my body is still young enough to be thrown around on missions.”

He has to bite his lip to contain the chuckle that he feels vibrate in his chest. He didn’t expect you to respond so sarcastically but he’s glad that you did. If anything, it makes him want to continue talking with you, “So why haven’t I been formally notified of your work here?”

“Well, if something breaks or needs general maintenance, Lyla is informed and she then passes that information to me. She typically deals with software issues and I’m the hardware person. We don’t usually bother you with these things because you’re always so busy as it is.”, you offer with a shrug as you crawl out and sit on your heels, inspecting yet another PCB.

“It wouldn’t be a bother. I need to know about these things.”

You look up at him and chuckle quietly with a soft shake of your head, “There are reports on file of every single repair I’ve done but… the last thing you need to worry about is a coffee maker gone haywire or someone’s empty web cartridges.”

“Aren’t you busy too? You take missions yet you still pull the Society’s odd jobs. Why?”

“Not really. I’m active mostly at night or in the early morning hours. Even when there is an active mission, I’m D-team at best.”

“D-team? Why do you think that?”, Miguel is genuinely confused by what you say. After all, the two of you worked so well together during the missions you have been on with one another.

“I’m just not that capable when compared to the Spiders.”

There’s that phrasing of yours again. It paints a clear separation between you and the society. Why are you so unwilling to include yourself with them? What exactly makes you speak this way? Miguel then thinks back to your first mission together, when it was just the two of you. Although it felt foreign at first, you two completed it quickly and efficiently. He speaks in a tone that leaves no room for rebuttal, “You are very capable.”

“Yeah, you think so?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

You sigh casually as you stand up, carrying a small tote against your hip of damaged hardware to be further inspected, “Well, I could just be pleasant to be around.”

He releases a breathy laugh at your arch remark with a shake of his head. If only you knew how important your presence has become to him over all these late nights.

You perked up at the sound as you placed the tote on a nearby desk, turning to him as you asked, “Did I just make you laugh?” 

He was about to groan in annoyance on instinct but caught the look in your eyes before he did. Your face didn’t show a single sign of ill intent. Rather, it carried what he identifies as wonder. His lips purse a bit as he looks away from you, trying to avoid your gaze to spare himself from how overactive he’s found his mind becomes when gazing upon your bare face.

“Oh, now you’re pouting.”

“Not pouting.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.” 

Miguel’s brain stalls as his ears pick up a previously unknown yet gratifying sound. Gentle giggling slips from you and it makes that buzzing sensation in his ears return. But he's not upset because he knows you're not laughing at him. It’s that kind of laughter that isn’t rude nor teasing. It’s kind and full of joy. He can’t help the upturn of the corners of his mouth, finding your delight somewhat infectious.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just too cute.”, you wave your hand softly as your other hand attempts to muffle your chortling before grabbing the tote of hardware to repair again. You turn to leave to your usual lab to work but your joyful sounds have yet to cease.

Miguel’s frozen by your comment. Cute? In reference to him? That’s not… that’s implausible and honestly, unprecedented. The more he speaks with you, the more he learns just how strange you are. You’re different in not only appearance but behavior as well. He's sure now that you are unique to the Society in such an eccentric way. He realizes something and it’s arguable in his mind. It makes sense why you exclude yourself from them all. Out of all the Spiders, you’re the anomaly.

Laying in the rain with you

Middle of June

“Miguel O’Hara! Get your butt out here now!”

He groans and rolls his eyes with a smirk as he looks at the time. 3 am, on the dot. It’s time.

The two have grown very well acquainted with each other over the past 8 months. There was a stint of anomalies surfacing during the early overnight hours. For a while, it seemed you and Miguel were dispatched nearly every night but now the instances have slowed to every week or so. You’ve learned a lot about each other and have acclimated well to each other’s presence. His hands swipe away the monitors floating around him as he calls over his shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. Just a second, needy.”

“Needy?! Puh-lease, you would waste away without me.”, you chuckle as your body swings around the entrance to his work area. You cross your arms and lean against the doorway, “Ven a comer.” [Come eat.]

“Sí, Mami.”, he mumbles amusedly, stroking his chin as he stares at the monitors in front of him. [Yes, Mom.]

You chuckle and walk over to him, “Don’t make me drag you out of here.”

He closes the floating screens around him with a flick of his wrist before turning to you with a smirk. His hands rest on his hips as his platform descends to meet you. The soft fizzling in his ears returns as you look up at him with a small, playful smile. The sensation is no longer foreign to him. It’s welcomed now. Warm and comfortable. “Yeah, uh-huh. And how do you suppose you’d do that?”

Your grin is almost mischievous as he finally stands in front of you, “I’d figure it out. I’m very resourceful, you know?”

He nods and begins to walk with you to complete your late-night ritual. “Oh, are you now?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” You repeat the words he told you from your first night together. At this point, it’s more of an inside joke; a reference that often appears as you two converse.

“I thought you said it was because you were pleasant to be around.”, he hums amusedly.

“Well? Am I?”, you look up at him through your lashes. Your eyes gleam with warmth and he’s not sure if you truly know just how beguiling it is.

He mutters as he avoids your gaze, knowing damn well he wants to say yes, “Don’t fish for compliments.”

“But you would compliment me.”, you state in a way that’s laced with playfulness. You bend a bit at the waist to catch a glimpse of his face with your hands resting neatly upon your lower back.

He meets your teasing gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes, “What’s for dinner?”

He sees your lips curl up in his peripherals before you state nonchalantly, “It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise? What do you mean? What for?”

“What? Don’t you trust me?”, you chuckle in amusement after he rambles a bit. You managed to identify that habit of his despite his general seriousness after the many nights you've spent working together.

“I trust you as far as I can throw you.”, he replies collectedly, or so he hopes.

“Liar.”, you hum with an amused smile on your lips, “Nonetheless, I suppose it’s good that you’re an incredibly strong man that can throw me very, very far.”

You chuckle again as he groans beside you. You’re far too sharp for your own good, having seen right through his strategic word choice. You two enter the terrace and something feels different. The air is a bit warmer tonight. Miguel supposes it’s just that kind of summer night. One where the heat from the day lingers into the late night and rekindles the following morning. His eyes shut for a moment as he absorbs the scent floating around. It’s familiar, it’s… enticing. He blinks softly before turning to you, eyebrows lifting in surprise as he sees that setup you’ve made. Upon the ground is a large blanket with a couple of small pillows. There are a few containers of what he knows is your cooking placed in the center. It’s not extravagant but something does stir in his stomach as he sees you turn to him. You almost look coy as you gesture behind you but your eyes never lack that warmth he knows as yours. “Yeah, it’s a bit silly but… happy 50th successful mission, partner.”

He stiffens at your calm yet happy proclamation. The word partner rattles around his brain for a few moments before the gears in his brain turn again. 50 missions? Have you two truly been on 50 missions already? Oh, who is he kidding? Of course, he knows that already. The two of you have actually been on 58 missions to be exact but they can’t always be successes.

You walk over to pull him gently by the wrist to the blanket, “Come on already. Food’s getting cold.”

He rolls his eyes with a smirk as he indulges your command with reluctance, but only externally.

You let go of his hand and sit at one end of the blanket, “Mira, I made some of your favorites.” You remove the lids of the containers presenting a small variety of his preferred dishes. There’s a smile on your lips as you pull out the final container, presenting it to him with a kind tone of voice, “I even made Stobhach for you. And I’ll let you know I’ve perfected my recipe.”

He can’t help the small curl of his lips as he sits opposite of you. You seem so excited to show him all that you prepared for tonight. It all almost makes him blush. He’s learned fairly early on in your acquaintanceship-turned-friendship that you show affection through care. Especially, by giving someone a home cooked meal. He stares down at the food and hums, “Thank you.”

You return with a hum of your own. Besides the banter and wry humor, words aren’t really necessary between the two of you. You’ve learned to read each other well. Body language, quirks, and even the noises that rumble from each of your chests. It’s almost animalistic in its simplicity. Miguel has come to realize how truly perceptive you can be, similar to himself. You two actually share a lot of similarities like your inquisitive nature and reclusive behavior. And he’s come to the conclusion that that is why you two can exist so harmoniously together. It’s not hard to be around you. To him, your presence is easy.

All I really want is you

What would you do?

You two have been talking for a while, the food long gone and your bellies satiated. There’s a bubble around you two as you converse like you’re in your own little world. 

“Come on. Lay with me.”, you look up at him with warmth in your eyes as you pat the space next to you. He truly can’t find it within himself to deny such a gentle command. He moves to lie next to you and stares up at the few stars that manage to make it through the city’s light pollution. It’s times like these when he ponders upon his actions and realizes how easily he finds himself following your instruction. He’s not upset about it. He just finds it odd although certainly not unwelcome. Truthfully, he’s grateful that he can take your lead and not have to be in charge, even if only for a moment. But these moments fill his chest with something warm. Warm and comfortable are his two choice words to describe you in any situation. Whether it be as you two work in silence in one of the labs or when you patch each other up after rough missions.

Sleeping outside, the moon

Tripping with you

He hears a sweet sigh from your lips as you relax on the blanket next to him. You whisper into the night air with the same gentleness one speaks a secret, “This reminds me of one night when I was a teen. In my universe…”

Miguel’s ears perked a bit as you began. It was very rare for you to speak of yourself, your experiences, or your universe. Every time you did, he was sure to pay attention and commit each word to memory because if you ever spoke of it like this, earnestly and unprompted, it meant you were revealing a part of who you are. That you were trusting him with a part of your very essence. To keep it safe.

“California isn’t gone. There’s a coastal city there called San Francisco that my friends and I traveled to. We spent hours there. We watched the sunset on the bay and the evening fog that rolled in. And eventually, we laid back on the sand and looked up at the stars. Just like this.”

He didn't say anything or make a noise. He just stared up at the stars with you, listening intently.

“I felt so calm that night. I knew in that moment that nothing else mattered. And for the first time, I felt at peace. My whole life I didn’t do much. I stayed at home filling my time with random knowledge and tricks. I avoided people and kept to myself as best as I could because I had learned very young that people were not to be trusted.”

Miguel feels his chest tighten at your words but keeps silent. There’s a darkness that barely laces your voice but it is there. He picks up the sound of hurt in your tone and it grips him tightly. There’s a tumultuous feeling in his stomach. He’s eager to preserve the pieces of yourself that you delicately hand him but it doesn’t change the feeling of helplessness that floods him. Your honesty is encased in sadness, a build-up of fears and insecurity that he’s far too late to have prevented. So he listens because maybe, just maybe, something you reveal to him in these genuine passages of your lore can help him protect the parts of you he keeps.

“I learned that family was everything because family would never hurt you. It’s funny now… Now, I think I’m nothing but a memory yet to be forgotten by them.”

He turns to look at you curiously but the concern is unmistakable in his eyes. Of all the countless nights you’ve spent together, you’re finally revealing why you are the way you are. Why he feels like he knows you without words. Because loss and loneliness radiates off you like bittersweet perfume yet you contain it with walls built of sufferance and capability. He’s always held a certain affinity to you that he could never quite describe until now. Before his thoughts submerge his consciousness, he notices how your eyes are screwed shut and the way your fist is squeezed tightly around the strings of your hoodie. Your clenched fingers resting above your heart almost as if you're quelling pain into passivity.

You sigh quietly as if to prepare yourself for what to say. “Things happen. At one point you think you know where you are. Then you blink and wake up somewhere else entirely.”

There’s a brief pause before your next words. Your eyes slowly flutter open to look up at the stars with glossy eyes and a gentle yet certain voice, “I’m here now and I’m actually very grateful for all that has happened. I’ve learned things I never thought were possible, about reality and the world. About people and about myself.”

He’s a bit surprised as you speak to him with sincerity, “I know I’m strange, Miguel. I know I don't make sense and that I don’t really fit. But you make me feel understood. And you make me feel like I’m not really alone… Thank you.”

You turn to find him staring at you in surprise. Your smile is small but your usual warmth has returned, and truthfully, he thinks that it never left. “Sorry. That was a bit heavy, huh? Just forget I said anything.” You offer with a chuckle before laying back.

All I really want is you

Your eyes are closed as you bask in the moonlight and his eyes travel over you. He takes in the soft curl of your lips and the faint flush on your cheeks from the cool air and candid words. The temperature isn’t too bad but thanks to the extreme altitude of the building, it’s crisp yet foggy. It’s an odd feeling, the air is damp from the clouds rolling through the skyscraper but Miguel feels warm. So soothingly warm. Especially, with you laying so close to him. So earnest and so true. He finds it odd how comforting this feeling is despite it being foreign to him, or rather dormant. He’s astonished by your trust in him. It fills him with something that he wasn’t entirely sure he was missing. Suddenly it's apparent what exactly this feeling is. The same feeling that he's felt for months. And it finally sparks in his mind as you look at him with tired eyes and a warm smile.

I love you. 

All I really want is you

What would you do?

He can nearly taste the words on his tongue but he remains silent as your eyes stare into his. Suddenly he feels very awake as his own thoughts dawn on him. Managing to tear his gaze away from your familiar e/c eyes, he finally speaks as he closes his eyes with a coy smirk.

“Never.”

It’s you. Now, it’s something that’s as certain as fact in his mind. He feels the heat of your hand resting on the blanket between the two of you, right next to his. Right where you belong, he thinks. Right next to him.

All I really want is you

Is you, is you, is you

Appearing near you two and out of sight is Lyla. She watches you two and makes a final checkmark on the chart she pulled from an article months ago, when Miguel was initially questioning his interest in you. She smiles to herself as she looks over the chart then back at you two as you exist in your own little world. The words softly illuminated in the window beside her, Infatuation vs. Love, with all her markings under the latter.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this! Also, big thanks to everyone who voted on my poll regarding this fic. I am open to your opinions and questions! Please feel free to ask me anything!

[skulls-soul]

A little bit of a spoilers to the Mario bros movie

I knew that when it came to Mario and Luigi’s family it was either going to be just Mario and Luigi or they had a big family And I’m not gonna lie at first I was a little disappointed that they had a big family but that’s just because I’m a sucker for Angsty back stories

But then I thought of the potential when it came to bowuigi and just imagine Bowser trying to date/marry Luigi and he thinks that Mario is the only person that he needs to get the consent of But then Mario’s just like “so when are you gonna tell The rest of the family”

Bowser is just like “what do you mean rest?”

 the Twin uncles asks questions So many questions while constantly giving the stink eye imagine that they wouldn’t be as suspicious as Mario but like a close second



I imagine that grandpa doesn’t give two shits he’s old he knows of the Times are changing and he’s too old to try and understand it so I odd to just leave it be although  I imagine that he make a lot of inappropriate jokes and questions because then again what kind of grandparent wouldn’t be nosy

I can totally see him looking at Bowser and he be like “I hope you’re not the one that’s taking it I don’t wanna have to go to your funeral for before mine hehehe”

The aunt is curious as well but would keep a distance from Bowser just because he’s scary and I can’t really blame her (so will their younger cousin)

Mom would be completely baffled and in denial and just out right be like “you think? you deserve my precious little baby boy!!! Over my dead body” and then give Luigi a lecture  in Italian and about how this is a terrible idea and you should never trust a man with a criminal record

And I want to do a little surprisingly moment with the dad because I think it would be fun if the dad is just like

“Mario what do you think about this”

“ I mean he seems to make Luigi happy so” *idk noise*

“ he is a king,so he’s financially stable, Plus has power to keep luigi safe and I know the look of love in someone’s eyes and that overgrown turtle has that look so Long as he doesn’t break my boys heart I guess he’s OK in my book”

Although I do like the idea of the dad giving Bowser a hard time so maybe he’s more quietly suspicious but the mother is more verbal with her concerns and disapproval.

an honorable mention

Kamek is super supportive the second Bowser shows interest in Luigi he’ll find out all that’s possible and make sure that Bowser‘s attempts of wooing his interest is more successful 

When Bowser introduces Luigi officially two his advisor Luigis over here being like “hello sir it’s a pleasure to meet you”

Kamek: “ The pleasure is all mine, so I was wondering what are your thoughts about his graciousness king Bowser

I imagine that Kamek would unintentionally embarrass Bowser lol his poor advisor just wants to know more about Luigi and see if they are a good match because even though he supports Bowser in whoever he decides to take into a relationship with he still wants to make sure that he’s making the right choice

Kamek: “ By any chance do you have any… Let’s say, hotheaded family members”

luigi: “well yeah good chunk of my family is actually pretty hotheaded makes me a bit of an oddball since it takes a lot to get me mad”

Kamek “ interesting” turns around to look at Bowser :D 👍

Kamek: you know the kings been working on a song for you 😌

Bowser: thaaaaats enough out of you dismissed

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Long Fic Titles (8+ Words) (6) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

5 times Dani wants to say “I love you” to Fi, and 1 time she actually does (ao3) - noxhsw

Summary: 5+1 themed sappy 2009 scenemo Dan and Phil yuri. Because why not.

a cat's not just for phantober. this is forever (ao3) - purpurussy

Summary: Fluffy oneshot based on the "cat" prompt for phantober!

ain't gotta tell me (it's just in my nature) (ao3) - lesbaurinkos (pluginbaby)

Summary: It’s really, really fucking nice, looking in the mirror and seeing something that feels right for the first time since uni, probably. Since the stint when she’d chopped her hair off her first year just to get scared and grow it back out, brushed it off on YouTube as a tomboy phase and run back away from the thing that she thinks she’s always sort of known. The thing that’s prickled under her skin every time she’s put on a dress for an event, makeup for a video, and pretended it’s who she is.

She’s been sick of pretending for a long time now.

(or: fi gets The Chop™)

and you're back again, only different than before (ao3) - dancingroses

Summary: dan used to disappear at odd hours without his phone, leaving phil to sit around anxiously waiting for him to come home. things have been better since wad. when dan takes a morning to himself to process the reality of the terrible influence tour, phil is forced to confront just how much this little habit of dan's used to affect him.

As The World Caves In (it’s you that I lie with) (ao3) - amzingmati

Summary: Doomed au inspired by the song As The World Caves In.

A short au for the phanniversary :)

I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Dan and Phil have a death pact. Or so Phil thinks, sending out a tweet after they finish going over their wills with a lawyer.

i had sworn to myself i'm content with loneliness (‘cause none of it was ever worth the risk) (ao3) - misbhvdan

Summary: Soft guitar strings are playing from the shitty laptop speaker. Dani recognises the song immediately. She’s been listening to it on her iPod daily for over a month, thinking of Fiona every time like the lovesick puppy she is.

There’s no voiceover in the video, just the girl cutting her own hair into Fiona’s desired haircut with a frankly ridiculous music choice in the background.

Who puts a fucking love song in the background of a hair tutorial?

- Dani gives Fiona a haircut.

if you weren't mine (i'd be jealous of your love) (ao3) - phook

Summary: dan and phil reminisce.

everything’s still romantic after fifteen years.

in your high heel boots and your painted-on jeans (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: After a fight, Dan drowns his sorrows in bourbon.

Perfect like a picture, even when they look through the grains (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Dan and Phil having a cozy night in with red wine, taking photos for a holiday card and taking videos for each other.

please i've been on my knees (change the prophecy) (ao3) - theend1snear

Summary: Phil thought that the universe must have been playing some kind of trick on him, because why couldn't he love Dan back?

Stand clear of the closing doors (The next stop is: 28th Street) (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Dan and Phil are in New York on tour and agreed to meet a friend across the city, so having taken lots of trains around the world like the grown adults they are, they get on the subway. Except when the conductor calls out the next stop at 28th Street, they realize they've made a big mistake.

The altar is my hips, even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love) (ao3) - philsslit

Summary: As she watches Dani dance around in that incredibly short skirt she is filled with a mixture of love and lust. She can't take her eyes off of her.

or

dan and phil are lesbians. featuring sister daniel. and strap. that's it that's the fic.

the chill of his breath, the work of his hands (ao3) - Celeste (artificialmac)

Summary: “You can’t die before me,” he rushes out, wincing internally as the words leave his lips.

Or: Dan gets in his head after filming with the Sims 4 Life and Death pack.

the world is my oyster and i’m the only girl (ao3) - cutekai

Summary: it all starts with a piece of fabric

What if we kissed in the backrooms door (ao3) - The_local_trash_bag

Summary: Dan and Phil are lost in the backrooms. They don’t know when they’ll get out but at least they have each other to keep them sane.

what would you do (if they never found us out) (ao3) - weuspronouns

Summary: It's Vidcon 2015 and Phil checks out after two drinks. Despite it going against their every rule, a tipsy Dan decides to visit his hotel room anyway.

when people that said it was raining all the time (i see sunshine cause i know that you are mine) (ao3) - Atlantis_51

Summary: Phil waits in the cold. He waits until his fingers ache from the breeze that rushes through them. He waits until the crowd dwindles down and he’s left all alone standing alongside the train tracks. He waits until the call aboard the last train rumbles through the high walls of Manchester Train Station. He even waits a little longer, just in case.

// Dan doesn't show up at the train station on that fateful Oct 19th, 2009.

when the train came it was so big and powerful (ao3) - r1caner

Summary: It is 2009, and things are going to change. Dan thinks so, anyway.

a dnp fic for the 15th 19th of october.

When you see me, will you say I've changed? (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: Dan has an identity crisis while touring We’re All Doomed and spontaneously moves to New York City to feel like he’s doing something good and productive with his life, running a bodega in Crown Heights alongside his new companion, a chaotic orange cat named Clint.

It’s a story about New York, and the quirks of owning a stray orange cat.

It’s also a story about trust and community, and handling the dissonance between the people and places we call home.

When you're in the mirror, you're just looking at me (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: A morning, in a hotel during the tour. Dan thinks about tours past and present.

-

brat and it's the same but it's about dnp so it's not

you can drive me down to florida and fuck me for days (ao3) - cutekai

Summary: codependency unlike no other

you should’ve raised a baby girl (i should’ve been a better son) (ao3) - thislifedoesnotexist

Summary: Fiona has had a best friend, and she’s had a crush, and Dan is both and neither and something new and transcendent altogether.

(2009 and it’s the same but they’re transfem so it’s not)

[physalian]

So, I’ve written posts utterly baffled by writers who think tackling the intimate nuances and complexities of minorities/ disabilities/ neurodivergences that they don’t have based on ego and research is just easy and no one will notice. But like… there aren’t rules for any of these demographics. All aces don’t think the same way, that’s why there’s like 20 different specific labels under the ace/demi umbrella.

But the reason I don’t think anyone can get by on research alone if this character’s quirk (for simplicity’s sake) is the whole plot and their defining feature is this: There is no ‘default’ person and the 50s-esque model citizen was a caricature. Odds are somebody isn’t “perfectly normal” just with one little outlier trait. We’re all different mixes and blends so saying “I’m gonna write a gay dude, I read this one blog by a gay dude and I’m an expert” is just. No.

This is also assuming that it’s realistic for your character to be absolutely certain about themselves and can diagnose or label themselves with medical accuracy. We’re all just vibin’, you know? Some might, and kudos to them, still wierd to so confidently write something you researched like cramming the night before a final.

Like, if you tell me you wrote an ace, and you yourself are straight or simply not ace and have no ace friends or relatives and just thought it would be cool, but your book is an intense deep-dive into asexuality, I’d bet very good money that it is not, in fact, a deep dive into asexuality, just your extrapolation based on a modicum of research and your own biases.

You’re missing out on so much personal context. I’m ace. Also, possibly aro? But also unofficially diagnosed as autistic and I can’t get a real diagnosis because reasons. And everyone is different so I don’t know where the boundary lies between “this is an autistic thing” and “this is an ace thing” and “this is an aro” thing. You, intrepid author, can’t expect to articulate that if a real person living with it can’t.

You can’t articulate it, because I can’t articulate it, and I’m probably contradicting myself all over the place in a giant game of mental Twister. Like. Romance sounds great, but I’m also fiercely independent and am too used to doing everything alone to actually picture being a healthy team and not having to carry it like groupwork in high school. That image just does not compute.

Or, romance sounds great, but I can’t love you the way you expect and odds are I’m not going to want to sleep with you… but I’ll watch your favorite TV show with you and I’ll buy you that box of candy that you probably forgot you mentioned wistfully wanting last week and I’ll make sure the fridge is stocked with your favorite snack and I’ll do the driving and I’ll text you memes and funny pictures and song recommendations to make you smile and I’ll do 100 other things desperately trying to make up for the guilt of both wanting you to find me attractive, but not actually finding you attractive, but it's actually finding the effort I make and the choices within my power that I want you to find attractive and not 'nice ass' or whatever, of wanting you around and wanting love, but not wanting sex and I guess if you cheat but it's "just sex" I have to deal because you've got "needs" and you're "normal" and I'm lucky to have you around without putting out. While simultaneously daydreaming about an imaginary person who doesn't expect those 100 other things done from guilt, but I got bills to pay and can't be selfish and, well, that person doesn't exist.

But sure, your ace is gutwrechingly realistic because they're an android or an alien and are incapable of a sex drive anyway and not human because, what? All humans have a sex drive, you donut. You just haven't met the right person yet.

No one is just one thing in isolation and otherwise “perfectly normal”. The arrogance and naivety it takes from so many writers who think this can’t be shocked when the negative feedback comes in. Write inclusively. Do not write the deeply personal struggles of a life you did not live, that someone reading your book can look at and think, wow, I can’t believe how wrong they got it. Do I expect to read a perfect copy of myself in someone else's ace charcater? No. Every ace is different, but there's the "ace" flag for a reason.

[mystic-writings]

wherever i go (you bring me home)

PAIRING — wilbur soot x fem!reader

SUMMARY — you and wilbur get into your first major fight

WARNINGS — angst, hurt/comfort, arguments, wilbur’s a heat of the moment asshole

WORD COUNT — 2,078

SONG — sweet creature - harry styles

NOTES — writing this took forever lol sorry i've been gone for like 3 months <3

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“Wilbur, you can’t just keep ignoring this!” You’d been trying not to raise your voice for almost an hour now, but it just wasn’t working. 

The man turned away from you and played with the hem of his button up. “I told you, I’ve got it under control.” He spoke at a low volume, keeping his eyes downcast. “I’ll deal with it. I don’t even know if I’m going back next year, okay?” 

“Why not?” You asked, settling on the couch beside your boyfriend. 

“Because, I don’t see a point in it anymore!” His voice raised with every word, until he turned to face you and began shouting. Quickly, he stood up and paced the room. “I don’t see a point in getting a business degree, or working an office job until I die. I don’t want to do that!” 

He made a start for the door, and you stood, following him. “Wilbur, that’s okay! But you can’t keep skipping class, either! You can work out what you want to do and still go to school!” 

“No, I can’t!” He turned, whipping around at lightning speed. You took a step back. “Because I don’t have that kind of money! I can’t afford to go through university twice. Not everyone has the privilege of using their parent’s money to pay for school, unlike you.” 

Wilbur was seething by the time he finished. Your shoulders sagged and your eyes began to well with tears. As much as he was right, it was still painful. He scoffed at your lack of a response, pulling his shoes on and grabbing his jacket from the hook by the door and left you alone in the apartment, silence pressing in on you. 

You managed to bring yourself to the couch, falling onto it with your head in your hands. You knew you shouldn’t have pressured him, but it was his final year of school, and enrollment was coming up soon. You just wanted him to make sure he had made his choice. 

The room felt both too large and too small when you were in it by yourself. At some point, the guilt and regret dragged you down into a lying position, and it didn’t take long for your mind to lull itself to sleep wondering when Wilbur would come back. If he’d come back.

Anxiety stuck like a boulder on your chest, guilt and the unknown creeping in on you like the monsters you were scared of as a child. But this time, there was no one to hold you, to comfort you and tell you it was okay. That you had nothing to worry about. Because you did have something to worry about. And that was where Wilbur had gone. If he was okay. If he was still your boyfriend.

Eventually, the little tears your body was able to produce and the whirring of your constantly changing thoughts brought you to sleep, curled into yourself on the couch with tear-tracks marking your cheeks. 

By the time you’d woken up that morning, Wilbur still hadn’t come home. The pit in your stomach expanded larger and deeper than you ever thought it could, consuming your entire being as you wondered what his absence was beginning to mean. 

Was it just… over? No goodbyes, no real ending, just… the end? 

It was all you could think about as you forced yourself to go about your normal routine, ignoring the twinge in your back from sleeping on the couch. 

Going out in public felt so odd. None of these strangers knew the state of your relationship, of your mind. Then again, you weren’t sure if you did, either. Still, your routine continued, heading to class as though you weren’t a wreck.

Wilbur knew just how fucked he was as soon as he stormed out of the house. He knew he didn’t mean any of the bullshit he’d told you, but he was still fuming and couldn’t be at home. At least, not at home with you, at the moment. 

The small, reasonable voice in the back of his head was telling him what an idiot he was being, that his anger would subside and he would regret everything he’d done and everything he was going to do, but he didn’t listen to it. Especially when it told him to march back inside and apologise to you. 

Before he knew it, Wilbur had gotten on a bus that carried him to Canada Water station, and a thousand thoughts were cropping up all at once as he stood on the escalator, too fast for him to process, but all of them underlined with one, booming thought. What had he just done? 

It was all he could think about as he boarded the train headed toward the London Bridge station, letting his feet take him wherever they needed to go. Right now, all he knew was 3 things: The stress of next year being his last year at uni was unbearable, he took said stress out on you even though he swore he’d never do anything like it from the moment he met you, and that he needed to apologise.

But how? By the time he realised it, Wilbur was almost an hour away from you, with no cell service, and only three stops away from King’s Cross. He could picture you now, distraught on the couch like he’d seen his mother so many times after she’d fought with his dad when he was a kid, and it killed him to know that he’d been the one to cause it. That he’d broken the promise he made to himself a very long time ago. 

Even as all these thoughts came to a head in his mind, battling on which one he needed to process first, Wilbur managed to make it to King’s Cross St. Pancras station. And as he bought a ticket from the handler at King’s Cross station, and began the trek to his platform, where a train would eventually come and carry him back to his mother’s embrace, he was mindless. The ticket was cheap, but the train wouldn’t be coming in until later in the morning - all the other trains to Ipswich were full. It was after midnight, and Wilbur wondered if you fell asleep on the couch, or if you ended up wandering into bed at some point during his travels. 

Wilbur ended up finding a bench to sit on at his platform, ticket in hand as he awaited his train. 

Time seemed to stretch on forever by the time Wilbur’s train arrived at the platform. It was going to be almost completely empty; after all, the only people on the platform were stragglers. His mind felt empty, like he wasn’t fully there. It was like he was torn, half of him on the platform, the other half of him at home. Most of the people waiting for the train had shown up, but even then he felt entirely alone, arms wrapped around himself, clutching the sides of his sweater, desperately trying to think straight. 

It felt like an eternity, his mind running loops, laughing as he tried to get it on a sane path of thought. But when it did, when he finally felt like he had some sense of clarity, the train was breezing past him, pulling into the station, awaiting his boarding. But as he stood from where he sat on the bench he’d been on for ages, he couldn’t bring his feet to move him toward the train. He had the ticket, and he was mere feet away - it was so easy. It should’ve been easy. 

But all he could think about was you. Was the hurt he put in your chest with the words he spoke - however true they seemed to be at the time. All he could feel was regret weighing him down, guilt piercing his lungs and making it harder to breathe. Puncturing his heart and tearing it apart. 

And with tears beginning to build up, Wilbur turned. And as he walked away from the platform, he dropped his ticket in the bin, and checked his watch. You were in class right now, if you even went, and would long be home by the time he got back. But it didn’t matter right now, what mattered to Wilbur was that he made things right. 

He’d arrived back at your shared flat almost an hour and a half later with shaking hands, unsure of whether you were home or not. His phone died along the northern line, and his leg bounced with anxiety every time he was seated. 

With a slow exhale, Wilbur reached for the door handle. It twisted mercifully in his grasp, and he knew in an instant: you were home. The door creaked, Wilbur cringed. He hadn’t been able to hear any signs of your location in the flat, but the unlocked door told him at least that you were inside. As he stepped inside, he felt almost like a stranger in his own home. It was deafeningly silent, and it felt as though there was no warmth flowing through. Like you’d simply disappeared, and he had, too. 

Still, Wilbur persisted. He slipped off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket, and tiptoed to the bedroom. His confusion began growing with every step, as there was no sign of you, but when he pushed the bedroom door open, only to still find no signs of your presence, it nearly doubled. He made his way to the bed to plug in his phone, and startled himself when he turned around, finding you in the doorway. 

“Where were you?” 

“Y/n, I-”

“Where have you been, Will?” You asked. Your voice tried to sound stern, and your eyebrows remained furrowed, but the crack in your voice and the tears in your eyes told Wilbur everything you didn’t want him to know. “You didn’t come home. I was worried.” 

“I’m sorry.” He breathed, and your heart cracked. 

“No.” You shook your head. “You’re not the only one. I pushed you too far.” 

He followed you as you turned, heading back into the living room. “It wasn’t just you, okay? I have some blame in the fight, too.” Wilbur sighed, watching as you stood by the coffee table, arms crossed, lip between your teeth. “Look, darling, I- I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I was an idiot. Hell, I am an idiot. But I’m your idiot, and I love you. I was so caught up in leaving that I ended up at King’s Cross somehow. I had a ticket in my hand, and I almost went back home - back to Suffolk - but I didn’t. I didn’t because I hurt you, and it wasn’t fair of me to hurt you the way I did and leave without a word. I’m sorry.” Wilbur’s head bowed, chest almost heaving from the pace with which the words tumbled from his lips.

“You love me?”

Wilbur’s head snapped back up, eyes locking with your soft ones. Had he said that? “I-” his mind ran for miles in the span of a second, processing what he previously said. But it didn’t matter. He did love you. “Yeah, I do. I love you, Y/n.”

“Then you’ll let me take some of the blame,” you said, voice soft as a small smile started stretching across your face. “I pushed too far, Will, and that wasn’t fair of me, either. And I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to. I just want what’s best for you, and that’s up to you to decide, not me. I just did it because I love you, too, and I want you to be sure in your decisions.”

Wilbur smiled back at you, not wanting to waste a second as he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face in the crook of your neck - nose buried in your hair. Without missing a beat, you wrapped your arms around his torso, breathing him in. His warmth spread through you in an instant, and your heart stuttered with emotion. There was no need to worry. 

Wilbur was home. You were his home. 

Tangled up in your limbs, head resting on your chest, calmed by your heartbeat and the fingers in his hair, scratching ever-so-gently at his scalp, was his home. And home is where he spent the rest of the night, watching movies until he fell asleep, comforted by your presence. 

hba taglist: @z0vamp @blancastans @vanillaarr @chillidaquack

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[rattycattyfanfic]

(you drive me) crazy

for @mirroredmemoriez's prompt!

1.) Lynn or Amanda reacting to one another’s music tastes! Can keep it broad and just have it as looking at a genre or pick a specific song. Setting wise it can be anywhere, such as oh I’ve bought this CD and sliding the disc in the car.

a shocking 1,521 words! no real warnings except mentions of mandy brain. can kinda sit in bark like a god verse? but doesn't have to.

if anyone would like to submit some simple easy prompts that i can deal with in 500-700 words ideally (although im finding these are spiralling out of control!) my inbox is open :)

One thing Lynn hadn’t anticipated about Amanda, but finds herself continually pleasantly surprised by, is all the strange little commonalities they share. Amanda’s music taste is not particularly vast or varied, but her taste for the alternative overlaps with the soundtrack of Lynn’s own youth in a nostalgic way. 

She remembers the first time, back when they were new and slightly tense – the relief of a common ground in the form of a familiar song playing faintly on the radio. The Cramps, she thinks it had been, but she couldn’t for the life of her name the song. She had simply known that she’d worn it out in her late teens, and that this strange girl was now in her living room bobbing her head along to the same song, oblivious. “I used to love this one,” Lynn had said, breaking the comfortable quiet and hating herself for it. But then Amanda had looked back, up, at her with this odd expression, something akin to surprise or respect, and it had felt easy. She’d smirked, said something snarky, a bit rude, and Lynn had laughed, and it had been a rare easy moment for them amidst all the turmoil.

It’s nice. Unexpected, but nice. Lynn welcomes the throwbacks to her undergrad days, and the insight that the day’s music choice provides into Amanda’s strange head. Her thoughts are still a mystery to Lynn some days, but the music – it helps shine a light on whatever Amanda is thinking that day.

Sometimes, she finds the girl in an oddly energetic mood, spinning Bikini Kill or Blondie whilst she busies herself with household tasks. Often she’ll be bent over some gadget in the backyard, taking the thing apart and putting it back together – the VHS player, or the old bike in the garage that hasn’t been used in years, or some other currently unidentifiable pile of scrap metal and electronics. Lynn can’t even be mad about it. Amanda always puts them back together in perfect, or better, working condition, and so she’s content to hang in the doorway, watching curiously until Mandy perks her head up and notices. 

“Was it too loud?” she says, with grease on her cheeks and a look somewhere between defiant and owlish. 

And Lynn says, will always say, “No,” and then usually, “I love this album. What are you working on?” Amanda grins and launches into an explanation that goes straight over Lynn’s head, however similar metal and electronics and flesh and nerves might be. She furrows her brow and nods attentively, and thinks that she loves Amanda like this, almost childishly excited and hyper-focused to the bright tones of Eat to the Beat.

Similarly, Lynn can tell when it’s a bad day. She knows that when she hears Fiona Apple, Hole, even the rare occasion of Patti Smith whining from Amanda’s oversized headphones, she needs to tread a little more carefully, treat Amanda with a little extra care. That brain of hers is still a mystery to her, especially days like this when she doubts even Amanda can make sense of her tangled thoughts.

She gets this, though, the appeal of quietly enraged vocals, angsty guitars and pianos, fast or slow but equally intense either way. She remembers listening to Revenge as a teenager and how it had spoken to her, soothed emotions she hadn’t even realised she’d had, and she thinks she gets it a little bit. So she sits down on the back porch next to Amanda wordlessly, and lays her head on the girl’s shoulder to catch the odd angsty refrain leaking out of the headphones. She says nothing about the edgy look in those dark eyes, or the raw pink of her sharp cheeks and wrists from where she’d scratched and rubbed restlessly. Lynn sits silently with her, until Amanda lets out a shuddering breath and relaxes just an ounce. 

Today she unplugs her headphones and allows Lynn to listen with her fully. She leans against her shoulder heavily, allows the tenderness of backrubs or fingers combing through her hair. Other days, the headphones stay on and Lynn remains a voyeur, held at arm’s length, the vulnerability of unplugging simply too much for Amanda to bear. Either way, Lynn tucks these shared moments away inside herself and thanks whatever god there is for the safe catharsis of rageful nineties singers. 

Amanda is not a good driver. This is the main, overarching reason Lynn will give if asked why she always prefers to be in the driver’s seat of her own car. She can drive, legally, and does so without accident, but she is not good at it, and Lynn spends most rides with Amanda holding onto her fucking seat wondering if this was part of her torture repertoire when working under John. But then, she supposes, her victims would’ve been unconscious during transportation, and so all the swearing and sharp veers must be either unintentional or for the sheer thrill of it. 

That is the reason Lynn will give for not getting in Amanda’s car if she can help it. The reason she will not give, is that Amanda’s baseline – and her favourite driving music – is largely completely fucking unlistenable industrial metal. Nine Inch Nails, Nitzer Ebb, and Ministry take pride of place in the driving fast and badly playlist. It all sounds like construction site noise to Lynn, and only adds to the distressing experience of being driven around by someone she has to remind herself is criminally insane. 

Her car is in the shop, though, and they need groceries. And so, Lynn is white knuckling the seat of Amanda’s beaten up shitbox while KMFDM screeches through tinny speakers. She thinks there’s probably never been such an intense fucking drive to the grocery store in all of history.

She’s about to say something bitchy, maybe ask her to turn it off or down at the very least, but when she looks over, she snorts. Amanda has her sunglasses on and is nodding to the beat, tapping her fingers rapidly against the steering wheel, looking fully in the zone whilst she swears at another driver for daring to obey the highway code. “I can’t believe you like this shit, Mandy,” she says instead with an exasperated laugh, and gets a bright grin in response. 

“It’s fun,” Amanda defends lightly, and glances back at the road, veering around another corner way too fast. “It’s fast. I like it!” 

Lynn rolls her eyes. “‘Kill motherfuckin’ Depeche Mode?’ That’s fun?” She doesn’t see the appeal, honestly, but it fits Mandy she supposes. Erratic, brash, angry in a gleeful way. It fits her perfectly. She’ll grin and bear it, maybe even learn to love it like she had Mandy, despite all the ways she had infuriated her at first. 

Amanda opens her mouth as if she’s about to respond, but the song fades out and into the next, and she turns a soft pink instead. She reaches out awkwardly towards the dashboard to skip the song, but Lynn is fast too. Lynn knows her 00s pop music – put it down to having a young daughter and nothing else, nothing else. She grabs the girl’s slender wrist and stops her in her tracks, and the song continues. A grin spreads across Lynn’s face, and Amanda groans.

“Lynn–” 

The unmistakable intro to Toxic plays out through the speakers at the same volume as the heavy industrial stuff, and there’s no hiding from it. Amanda goes a deeper shade of pink, as if this is somehow the most embarrassing thing Lynn has learnt about her to date. 

It must be her growing sadistic streak, but Lynn can’t help but dig a little. She holds Mandy’s wrist still, hovering inches away from the skip button. “I would never have pegged you for a closet Britney fangirl, baby,” she teases, and delights in the way Amanda flushes and splutters. 

“I don’t know how that got on the playlist, Lynn – fuck – Lynn, skip it,” she stammers. 

“No, I like it,” Lynn says smugly, and sits back, entwining their fingers together and effectively stopping her from skipping it lest she crash them both into a ditch. “And so do you, apparently – keep that hand on the wheel.”

Amanda groans, but stops fighting. She squeezes Lynn’s hand hard, digs her nails in a little viciously, but keeps her other hand on the wheel and lets the bubbly pop keep playing. Even as she flushes, loudly proclaims her embarrassment, Lynn can see her knee subtly bouncing to the beat. She looks one second from whispering the lyrics to herself.

One last dig, for the fun of it. Lynn feels high on the silliness of the moment, a bubble of unfamiliar giggliness in her throat. “Do you know the dance moves too?”

“Oh my god!” Amanda exclaims, throwing her head back. She steps on the pedal in exasperation and the car surges forward. She really shouldn’t be allowed to drive. A minute later, when she finally manages to swallow down the worst of her humiliation, Amanda mumbles, barely audible above the autotune. “...Yes.”

Lynn laughs out loud.

[reiding-writing]

Hiii, I absolutely loved immortal it was adorable!

I was wondering if I could request a fluff fic w Gn!reader where when Spencer goes to the swing set after the whole thing with Cat at the restaurant reader also goes there maybe to read a book and it’s a whole meet cute kinda thing cause it’s one of his favorite authors or smth?

sry for the long request I was trying to be specific lmao😭

swinging [ s.r ]

Summary:

You attempt to find your usual late night escape in the empty play park late one evening after an argument with your boyfriend, instead you find a handsome stranger that you find oddly endearing.

WARNINGS: shitty boyfriend (not spencer obviously)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff (kinda hurt/comfort)

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: i love hyper-specific requests man don’t apologise 🫶 also college is kicking my ass and that’s why this is so short sorry 😭

“It’s a little late for a play date don’t you think?”

Your comment clearly catches the boy in front of you off guard, his head shooting upwards and his eyes wide like he was in a state of fight or flight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” You take a second to admire the man in front of you through your apology.

His hair was fluffy, bordering curly, and long enough that it was getting caught in his eyelashes as he blinked up at you.

His eyes were big, round, and practically glistening in the warm lighting of the lamp post to your left.

He was dressed in a finely pressed black suit fit with a baby blue shirt and a lilac tie that made him look like he’d walked right out of one of those rom-coms where the male lead is a prolific billionaire.

He was gorgeous.

“I came here to wallow in my own self-pity but it looks like you beat me to it,” You can’t help but chuckle softly at your own explanation. “Do you mind?”

You gesture towards the swing besides his with a book held in your left hand and a soft expression, as if to silently tell the beautiful stranger in front of you that if he wanted to be alone that you would feel any offense.

“Uh- yeah- no- no, go ahead,” You don’t even try to suppress the smile that creeps its way onto your face at the way he stumbles over his words, and you take a seat on the swing next to him with a chuckled “Thank you,” as you turn your head down to the open book in your lap, just illuminated enough under the lamp post so you can read the words on the pages.

Any distinguishing factors, including the book’s title were unceremoniously hidden from view as it blends into the night’s shadows, effectively halting curious effort of the boy next to you to figure out what it is.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his lingering gaze, and you follow it down to the novel in your hands before you show off the cover in his direction.

Paramenides by Plato.

“Have you read it?”

Your voice stops his psychoanalysis of your literature choices as he turns his eyes back up towards your face again.

“I have actually,” He nods softly at you with a pursed, slightly awkward smile, the contours of his cheek bones perfectly captured in the dim lighting. “I read it when I was doing my Philosophy degree.”

“No kidding-“ You let out a small laugh in surprise at the fact the cute stranger encroaching on your usual pity party venue just so happened to have a degree in Philosophy.

He also just so happened to have an absolutely beautiful laugh, the sound like a song in your ear as he joins you in laughing about the absurdity of the odds that the two of you both had a keen interest in philosophy.

“So, what brings you out here so late then?” You seem to lose interest in your book as the two of you make eye contact, shutting it in your lap as you turn your shoulders towards him. “No, wait, let me guess, shitty date?”

The boy lets out a breath that could almost constitute as laugh, averting his eyes from you and leaning towards slightly to awkwardly run his hands over his legs. “Something like that-”

You give him a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Don’t let it ruin your perception of romance, it’ll work out in the end,”

The boy’s eyes turn up towards you once more as you speak, and your smile becomes a little more awkward as he meets your gaze once more.

“You don’t look like you believe yourself…” His words leaving you blinking softly in his direction, facial expression full of confusion.“Your relationship isn’t going very well at the moment is it?”

Your expression morphs at his question and he immediately backtracks, waving his hands around as he tries to pull back the conversation.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t- I’m-” He takes a sharp breath in through his nose before attempting to actually speak a full sentence to you. “I’m a uh profi- A behavioural analyst- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i’m so sorry-“

“No it’s alright,” It was your turn to awkwardly drag your hands down your legs now, fingers curling over the edge of your book as you reach it and fiddle with the metal plating on one of the corners of the cover. “You’re not wrong,”

You can practically see the curiosity in his eyes as you confirm his suspicion. “Is that why you’re here?”

You can hear the cautiousness in his tone as he presses you further, clearly scared about crossing a line, “You said you came here to ‘wallow in self-pity’ earlier…”

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of your earlier statement as he repeats it back to you. “We uh, had an argument,”

You play it off as something insignificant, but you can tell that he doesn’t believe you and soon end up finding yourself spilling the entirety of your relationship problems to someone you’ve never met before.

“He has this best friend that he’s like weirdly close to and he stood me up on a movie night we were supposed to have so they could go out together instead-“ You sigh exasperatedly as you replay the nights events in your head.

“I called him to ask where he was and it spun into him yelling at me for ‘not respecting’ his friendship because they’ve been friends longer than we’ve been dating, it’s stupid really-“

“That’s not stupid at all,” He shakes his head determinedly at you. “He’s not respecting your relationship, i’m sorry you have to deal with that,”

You can’t help but feel minorly guilty for making a stranger feel bad for you, but you give him a soft “Thank you,” nonetheless.

You unfortunately don’t have time to continue your conversation as your phone buzzes with a message from your boyfriend telling you that you have to go home to your shared apartment.

With a sigh you pick yourself up from the swing, clutching your book underneath your arm.

“Well, it was nice to meet you…” You trail of the sentence with indication for him to fill in the space with his name.

“Dr. Reid- Spencer Reid- Spencer- I’m Spencer....”

You can see the flush spread across his cheeks and over his nose as he stumbles out his name.

“I enjoyed speaking with you Spencer,” You give the cute stranger, Spencer, a soft smile as you prepare yourself to leave, hands stuffed in your pockets.

“I enjoyed speaking to you too,” He returns your smile with one of his own, albeit one that’s slightly more awkward, and you can see his mouth fall open again as if he was going to say something else, but his words fall short.

“Good night,” Your stopped in your walk home almost before it even starts as Spencer calls after you with a new found confidence.

“Wait-“ His voice echoes through the empty play park, and you turn around to meet his glistening gaze once more. “Am I- going to see you again?”

His half-awkward demeanour was oddly charming, eliciting a soft smile that spreads to your eyes.

“I like to read here sometimes, bring a book with you and maybe we can read together…”

Spencer smiles at your indirect invitation to see him here again in the future, and he nods softly at your answer, standing from the swing he was sat on to mirror you. “I’d like that,”

“Good,” You give him another soft smile that joined by a slight tilt of your head. “I’ll see you soon then..”

“Yeah…” Spencer stays stood as he watches you leave to go home, mind running at a million miles a minute as his brain fully comprehends what just happened.

You’re already out of sight before he realises that he forgot to ask for your name.

[n--n]

So can you elaborate on the lyrics of Poison being uninspired? I think a big problem with them is that there’s supposed to be a dramatic switch up in tone at the end, but it’s not actually big because the song has no dark subtext, the darkness is pure text. You can’t have a character say “My stories gonna end with me dead from your poison” then expect us to be shocked when the song gets sad in the end.

Addict was something people could have actually comfortably danced to in the club, which makes it hit when the concept is flipped to the dark side of itself, and it fits thematically, because it’s him coming down from his high, and he’s taking in what’s become of his life. Angel wasn’t happy before the ending of Poison so why is the song suddenly sad now like anything has changed?

But to me the lyrics seem unique enough. Like I can’t say any of them are cliches or platitudes. Though it kind of annoys me that the second verse like a regular pop song, but a real pop song has eight lines in verse one, this one has six and the Yeah yeah yeahs don’t count, so the second verse has an odd number of lines and just feels incomplete. That could be an example of it being uninspired.

Thank you for this ask it gives me an excuse to surgically open this song and really understand why it bothers me so much. Also it's 12 and I haven't rewatched it in a while so I might come back tomorrow and rewrite this so take it w a grain of salt sorry abt that.

In a nutshell- it's uninspired to me bc its such a nothingburger of a song. Like what do we get from it that we don't already know about Angel- either from the show itself, side content like the Addict video, or even from posts about him? Nothing. And lyrics aside, although the beat is good it's just a generic pop tune like Addict was a generic Kesha tune ya'know? Nothing about the melody particularly stood out to me as unique on its own or helping the storytelling. Even the fact that it's so upbeat in spite of the lyrics and visuals works against it when it gets towards the end and fails at trying to surprise you that it's sad.

"...so the second verse has an odd number of lines and just feels incomplete"

^^See thank you for articulating this bc I don't actually know much about how to articulate my thoughts on music, but this does help me make sense of why the actual tune just didn't grab me/felt off.

Also, going w/ the comparison to All You Wanna Do again- it's uninspired in that it also tries to do the thing where it makes a character use sexual innuendo to cope/describe the sa but falls so flat. Like,

"So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp

Yeah, I know it's poison You're feedin' me poison I'm chokin' from the taste and I can't help but swallow Up your poison I made my choice and Every night I'm wasted like there's no tomorrow"

Angel Dust does his dance as he sings this-and the images of him in his fetish gear/parts of the assault appear on screen, and he even poses in the positions it's implied he's being assaulted in. Like, was ALL of that necessary when the lyrics are already telling us directly what's happening to him??? Katherine made sex jokes abt her sa too, but we get to see her as her own character outside of the assaults and we learn so much about her pov, how it affected her entire life, etc. I feel like I wouldn't find it even that egregious if we had gotten to have scenes where the audience gets to see Angel be himself outside of the performative mask he wears+his suffering, but he was only used for cheap sex jokes when interacting w the others at the hotel. And now in his song, he redundantly sings abt his situation which we have already been shown:

"I got so good at bein' untrue I got so good at tellin' you what you wanna hear I disassociate, disappear Yeah, yeah, yeah"

We saw his conflict w Husk over how fake he is, saw him placate Val over the phone, and I can't recall if we saw him disassociate but regardless. The point is we know all this, it didn't need to be a song let alone a whole music video. If we left the scene after Val abused Angel in the backroom and made Charlie leave it would have been waaayyyyy more weighty and foreboding than this song/MV.

ALSO:

"You can’t have a character say “My stories gonna end with me dead from your poison” then expect us to be shocked when the song gets sad in the end." + "...and it fits thematically, because it’s him coming down from his high, and he’s taking in what’s become of his life."

^^^^THIS!! They really tried leaning into the tragedy of his situation but really just ended up making him a tool for whump instead. Addict was put together wayyy better musically, thematically and visually- it actually felt impactful when we're left with Angel Dust crying on the bed w his pet comforting him, whereas Poison leaving him on the ground left me feeling nothing but annoyance.

[planet-crait]

Okay so I lied I uh can’t find episode 6. Of anyone has help for that I would appreciate it. Anyways episode 7 does not have the intro and once again I am devastated.

It should be illegal to be that perked up on a Monday. Mondays are evil I have decided. Wait Hazel made a new friend? Dang it curse missing episode 6. Oh Jasmine uh she struggles to sing oh no. At least she’s proud to sing.

Oh Hazel. Fame is uh not what it’s cracked up to be. Is this technically cheating in a contest? Wait didn’t Timmy wish to be popular not involve Father Time? And Hazel being confused about the 15 minutes being literal is strange since that wasn’t her wish it was to be famous.

But also what’s the cost? If he offered a deal…what’s the cost? Fairy’s don’t usually have a cost or even a deal aspect it’s just wish then granted. Also we can clearly see their is hardly any sand in the top while their is quiet a bit on the bottom.

And I’m pretty sure later the watch looks the same despite have some 22 hours left so it’s a very odd choice to do this.

Also side note uh I had to break out a calculator to do that math and Hazel did it in her head? It I’m afraid of her power.

Wait is that squirrel supposed to be Timmy? Was he a squirrel at one point?

Wasn’t this guy a movie star before? Are they just reusing the not Timmy model or does he have two jobs and is working the grind? Not important at all I wouldn’t be surprised if they had to reuse models for stuff given the right budget but also it could be a commentary on the massive wage gaps for movie stars.

Hazel wears hand me downs. I appreciate that as someone with an older sister I always had those. Interesting she wears her older brothers clothes or is it just his shirt because she likes it and wants to feel close to him or she has to? Not important at all but interesting character thing depending on which it is.

Huh why did Cosmo become the interviewing girls mug?

I was wondering when the principle would appear again. Funny it’s this episode. I do like the show showing the haters side of fame even if it’s more over the top to get the point across. The more in the spotlight you are the more jerks come out of the woodworks. The kids all booing her is kind of hilarious though.

Wait they have a separate school for “famous” kids? What state is Dimedelphia in? Cuz Hollywood could potentially be in another state? I’m not sure how legal that is. But I’m also not sure if the legality of forcing all students to repeat a year if one student fails so I suppose that’s on track. I get they need to raise the stakes and give Hazel motive to undo the wish but it’s just. Well weirdly done for me.

Father Time has a boss? Wait Nick of time? Is she his boss? That doesn’t make much sense but who is the boss? I thought the point was Father Time was the ultimate timekeeper? How does New York minutes move faster than regular? I’m so confused about this.

Most head of her time? And mean. Not sure where that one came from lolz.

To help tighten up the script a little and to more organically bring in Father Time I would have had Hazel right off the bat with for her fifteen minutes of fame instead of Cosmo and Wanda changing it on their own. They’ve dealt with Father Time before and should know he’d get involved so having Hazel right off the bat wish for the fifteen minutes herself would fix that issue. Again I appreciate taking a different spin on Timmy’s wishes but for me I think the minor changes would help a lot to make it flow better.

Still not a deal breaker though just something to help out. I also really still don’t get the New York Minute thing. Is it a commentary on the fast pace of New York? Cuz other places are like that too LA coming to mind. Unless I’m missing something which isn’t entirely out of the question. The song was fun though. Onto episode 7!