#it does make me happier though
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why does coffee seem to have the opposite effect on my brain like istg it's working slower at like a manageable speed rn i can actually do stuff instead of just freaking out about them.
#i am documenting the effects coffee has on my brain#i really wanted coffee the past two days#it does make me happier though#idk what that means#and i was wondering why i felt the shit i was feeling#like the way i was acting and texting and everything#and now there's a noticeable difference in the way i'm thinking#and i don't feel depressed and brain foggy and anxious#also people use words to describe their experiences#like oh i'm having brain fog or whatever for example yk#and the way i'm feeling i would use that word to describe that feeling#except idk if i'm kind “allowed” to use that word#like what if what other people are describing is a more severe or completely different experience and i'm just talking random shit#like people who watch one tiktok about how autistic people feel comfortable with crossed arms and they're like i do that then they tell-#-everyone they're autistic#i am not talking about people who do the proper research to self-diagnose themselves here btw
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TFW you're coming up on 5 years together but in that time, your partner came out as pansexual and you transitioned and now you're both faggots into forcemasc.
(he/him for both)
#ftm transition timeline#ftmlm#ftm mlm#ftm forced masculinization#ftm forcemasc#ftm autoandrophilia#we look so much happier now even though we both had a shit day#he got stabbed earlier today but we saw the memory on my phone and were like “ohh we gotta redo it”#he grew his hair out#i transed my gender#technically I was like out as non-binary since I was a teenager but I was stealth and still femme presenting#but we cracked my egg when covid hit because there wasn't the expectation of work and people judging#but then breeding kink went brr and I had pregnancy complications so I had to put off hrt THEN WE MOVED#forcemasc#forced masculinization#he successfully bred my tboy ass though and forces my masc until I auto on my androphilia if you know what I mean#he does my t shots and supports me unconditionally#and despite my mopey midnight dramatizations to make myself seem pathetic we actually have a good relationship#like that's fantasy since people sometimes can't tell with me#autoandrophilia#but the stuff in these tags are honest tbh#nsft vulnerable#we both got fat too 😂
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Yeah so. I gave into the urges. I’ve never felt the need to write fanfic. Ever. But here I am I guess.
I wrote this at midnight soooo, who knows how this is. Just wanted to write John thoughts because he’s my guy—so have this short little piece that I hope other people can enjoy too :)
Fic under the cut: 1.8k words.
The memory of Arthur’s silence will remain more prettifying than his agony, but that doesn’t mean that his pain … his terror as the light and awareness left his eyes—their eyes—is what John was hoping to hear.
He doesn’t know what he was hoping for. Relief? A gasping thank you? Pride in saving him? Would it be foolish to wish that the talisman fixed everything? That he would just be okay? Perhaps it is. He thinks it is. He was never going to have that. It would be unreasonable to think he would get any of that, but any joy of him living, of John fixing this, was ripped away when Arthur opened his mouth. All John wanted was a sound. A single noise, a response, any response to prove the talisman worked. He got that. He should be happy that he got that.
But he isn’t.
And Arthur is silent again.
And the world is dark���but not as dark as it could be.
John does not know what to consider if Arthur didn’t end up in the dark world … when he died. That place was the last thing he wanted for Arthur, and yet, it was always treated as a last resort. Of a sort. Between them, spoken only aloud by Arthur, so long ago now. A place they would end up together in—if they failed. It was not a future he ever wanted, but it was a possibility, even if it was one he despised the thought of. But now he knows that if Arthur dies he does not follow, instead he is left here to deal with the repercussions. To play the marker for lifeless remains, having to have witnessed, and experienced death without a choice. What if there is no place meant for them? Past all of this. He can’t exactly bury Arthur himself, if it came to it, he wouldn’t let him stay dead after all. Graves are a place of permanency, one they do not deserve, because they can be forgotten. Especially here. But John would never forget. He would never abandon him like that.
He would find a way, like today. They are stuck in this together. They both have to make their own path through this, together.
Except his body is no longer a weighted grave for them both, a tomb he would never dare leave, it is breathing. Arthur is alive—and so they are both alive, whatever that may entail. He is tentatively okay. Arthur, is okay. As okay as he can be, as they both can be. What matters is that he is alive—what matters now is keeping him alive.
John has almost lost Arthur more than once, twice, more than three times, and he wasn’t always there to fix it but he has tried to be. He often was. Every moment where Arthur falls, where he becomes immobile and lost to John, he feels himself succumb to a fragility accustomed to human bodies. Accustom to loss and fear. It’s horribly quiet without him. Even so, he saves him, he saves them both—because Arthur trusts him, and he trusts Arthur. He loves Arthur, and he is going to tell him that. He has to tell him that. Even if they both know it, to an extent. This can’t happen again without John making sure he knows it.
But this is never going to happen again.
Because Arthur died this time, and he almost lost everything. John felt the cold stone visage that he left in his absence. There was nothing here without Arthur, more so than just the lack of connection to their body, but the emptiness was staggering. He was alone. Completely and wholly alone in a space meant for two.
He hadn't felt terror like that since Arthur slit his throat before the King—but this was worse. They’ve grown … so much—and John wasn’t there to see the aftermath of his actions back then. This, he was aware of, in every aching moment of uncertainty. This could have been prevented, couldn’t it? They didn't need to go after the talisman, but they did, and John didn’t see her—not until it was too late. It was his words that made her kill him—an appeal made to the wrong person. Arthur wouldn’t have died if made the right decisions. But he always seems to make the wrong ones, no matter how hard he tries, that he and Arthur have in common.
But Arthur is alive again, so why does it still feel like he is grieving?
Arthur wouldn’t have gotten hurt, wouldn’t have died, if John wasn’t here. But John wouldn’t be here, who he is now, without Arthur. Perhaps that would be more demoralizing if Arthur hasn’t so vehemently stated that he doesn’t want to be rid of John, that they are in this together, until they both get what they want … no matter what that may be. Perhaps that is just happiness, in the end, no matter what it looks like. From one harrowing experience to the next, until they may finally rest. Arthur wants him here, in spite of all the pain it causes, and will continue to cause. Because Arthur is his friend, and more than that, but he is his friend.
Arthur might even be … pleased with his actions. That he has found himself, both with him, and all that he has learned for himself. That he knows who he is, in truth, after everything.
Even if he knows who he is now, who he wants to be, who he will always be—he knows he will want Arthur there too. Arthur who has been there for all his mistakes, his achievements, their joy and sorrow. Arthur deserved to be here for this too, but he wasn’t, and maybe that was the push he needed. He used to defend so much of himself to Arthur, expectation after expectation, misstep after misstep. But Arthur also gave him hope, the sanctity of trust, showed him love and sacrifice, and remained alongside him even when that trust was broken. Even if some mistakes can’t be forgiven … They let them rest. Arthur lets it rest, so they can move on, so they can grow.
Is it so wrong to become … whole without him there to witness it? Or is that how it was always meant to be. To be entirely his own, must he first be alone?
He hopes not, it is a terribly bleak thought, besides it can’t be. Not in every single world, even if Kayne said he … doesn’t change much. There must be some place where there is more joy to be held in his ownership of self. A better circumstance that does not lace his pride in one of their darkest moments. In his choosing of hope. In his choosing of Arthur. One that doesn’t extend off of a devastating fear, off of death. He doesn’t know if he would wish to change this, he would have—if Arthur was truly gone—but he isn’t, so he will just have to see how this plays out.
He is going to share everything he said—everything he did, with Arthur. Because he deserves to be a part of it. Because they do this, all of this, together. Because he wouldn’t be here without him. Because together they are whole of two, just like he said, just like he will say.
It’s not as if he will ever fit into the messy expectations of what it means to be human, per say, but he doesn’t need to. All he needs is to perceive himself as what he wants to be—and Arthur’s perception helps to, even if he doesn’t always meet that. Humanity will be whatever he wants it to be. However he defines it to be. A neutral point, in it all. For he is not a piece to be slotted away, but a piece to be shelved along the masses, every individual part given a space of its own, and it is a space he deserves. A space he had long since earned.
A space they both deserve, to play their own key.
Because Arthur is alive—and so is he, in every sense of the word.
He’d panicked, when Arthur lost consciousness again, for a second he thought he had lost him once more. John had been so ready to reach for the talisman for a second time—for he wasn’t going to allow Arthur to leave, not yet, not ever. But he was breathing, albeit raggedly, but he was. John was going to keep his promises, he had to. He was going to take care of this, of him, and they were both going to be okay. Just like the times before this, and everytime that may come after, because Arthur isn’t going to die.
They’re going to get their happy ending, despite what she said, one where Arthur does not end up as a corpse.
An ending where they both know want they want, what they deserve, who they are.
Moving Arthur to the witch’s bed was difficult, to say the least, without exasperating the wound and the subpar stitching ... even if it has improved. John won’t allow it to get any worse—and Yorrick keeps telling him it’s survivable, or that he is more likely to survive anyway. Even so, John periodically checks to make sure Arthur is still breathing, that his heart is still beating.
Arthur is alive. He will stay alive.
He should stop worrying, Yorrick keeps spouting that he is arguably fine. He should stop.
But the reality is that he can’t, and he doubts will for a long while to come.
He is intimately aware of every minuscule movement Arthur makes, of every second of awareness he gains, and he coaxes him back to the present through all of it. A melody of promises, of reaffirming how he feels, telling Arthur everything over and over and over. It doesn’t matter if he is aware of what he says, if he hears him at all, John will repeat his words for as long as they are needed.
John never lets him arrive to the dread of waking up alone, speaking as soon as he stirs and recognition strike, each and every time. They are never going to be alone again, severed or separated, and John tells him that. Because they are whole together.
And eventually, when Arthur finds his speech, a gentle—hoarse voice long since worn by constant yelling born from the suffering of the waking. He repeats back everything John has been telling him through the suffering of uncertainty, of recovery and knowing and fear.
Arthur moves, ever so slightly, before John can protest—and he brushes his hand, John’s hand. It is a little thing, but it is such a stark constant to the stillness he had before. After the pain of it all, this is a relief, a reprieve. Arthur is alive and John can tell he’s weakly smiling, even if that is not something he can see, when he speaks up for the first time in hours.
John isn’t surprised by what he hears, he already knew, after all. They’ve both said it before. But John it is nice to hear regardless, because together, they are whole. A comfort to both him and Arthur both. He does not want to live, to experience life as it was shown to him, without him. He wouldn’t have gotten here without him. Together they are whole. Both their own wills, colliding, and depending on each other. Made by each other.
Arthur is alive.
Arthur is alive and he breaks the one sided silence by saying, “I love you too.”
Perhaps that, for now, is enough.
#malevolent#malevolent fic#they’re very qpr coded for me#though I know that is a very common consensus I guess#i just want them to be happy eventually no matter how long it takes#they deserve it I think#I love any interpretation of them I just think they should have some happiness#just a little#even if it’s complicated#they can’t be defined to me—not really#but they love each other#and that’s enough#a lot of his identity is attached to Arthur#and a life with Arthur is a happier one#it’s complicated#maybe I’ll make a meta post about it#about the whole…. being whole together#but I don’t think I need to#just wondering if my interpretation of that is different?#who knows—I sure don’t.#lowkey this is a John character analysis tbf#I adore him#malevolent podcast#john doe malevolent#I have a lot of thoughts about them and I tried to put that into this#but there is a lot I don’t know how to put into words#rotating him in my mind#my posts of madness#masked
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Come on, you know you want to, give us the character bingo for Viktor.
don't mind if i doooo
#ask me#okay there's a lot going on here but first things first#viktor has transcended the favorite character tier where I want to protect him or whatever#like yeah he did that shit! I support him but I also don't! the more trouble he gets himself into the happier I'll be!#do you feel me#like one of the things I love most about Viktor is that I feel so much sympathy for the circumstances he's in that are out of his control#but he has so much agency in his own story that everything he's gained and accomplished are because he makes choices#and GETS HIMSELF places#and now the same thing is happening with his BAD choices and I find that just as delightful if not moreso#he is the agent of his own salvation and his own destruction and I will be in the front row seat with popcorn for both or either#so writing him is mostly me studying him under the microscope poking him until he does something untoward it's very fun#I only hesitantly say that Viktor is like me but the Balkan ties and the grumpy-but-kind and obsessive personality#and the strong opinions about a chosen STEM field#are inescapable okay#mommy issues is not circled because I have mommy issues but bc I have convinced myself that Viktor WILL have them#if Nikola Tesla is anything to go by#the jayce-mel-viktor trifecta is ruled by mommy issues and i will stand by that claim#also viktor is more interesting with no therapy - with as little therapy as possible would be my preference#WITH THE EXCEPTION of the lonely genius shit that Singed planted in his head#that is absolutely the lie that Viktor believes that he MUST discard in order to progress as a character and I am excited for it#I genuinely think that Viktor will be happier and more eccentric as [REDACTED] but it won't last#he will hit a VERY LITERAL -if thy right hand offend thee cut it off- situation and then he'll have peace but he won't call it happiness#I can't say that I'd hate anyone who hurt him because that is half of why I'm excited for s2#but I will probably lose it at any scene where he loses to [REDACTED] for rivalry reasons#I genuinely do want to see Mel completely own his ass as [REDACTED] though like can you imagine the banter#and both of them secretly having fun with it
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Holy fuck I just finished Attack on Titan and Jesus Christ did Mikasa get the short end of the stick
#i know i know#I'm so far behind but at least it's done now#seriously though#the rest of the gang got a little epilogue that sums up what they're doing/done#even Historia who hasn't really been present for a while#and Mikasa gets a tiny thumbnail during credits where the only thing you can really make out is her body at the end of her life#I'm actually so mad about it#don't get me started on how she spent her whole life pining after the toxic ass shit head that is Eren Jaeger#but to know that SHE ends up being the reason for everything Ymir does because of her love for Eren#and then doesn't even get a proper ending? bullshit#i would have been happier if it had ended just after she walked off into the desert#after Armin talks down the Marleyan commander#fade to black roll credits#but that's my own personal opinion I guess#spoilers#attack on titan#aot#mikasa ackerman#deserved better
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I don’t have any intelligent thoughts to share I just want everyone to look at him real quick.
#I’ve been blasting soad music all day.#i would say it keeps me sane but we all know it makes me worse#it does also make me happier though. which is the real goal
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What's that one quote that goes like "I had a dream of my mother with the love of her life and no children. It was the happiest I've ever seen her", because... yeah
#grandma dug up an old photo album to show me#1998. mom was 25. young and beautiful and happy#I look at those pics and its hard to believe it's the same person#she's twice that age now so of course she looks older. but she's also genuinely happier and unburdened#she has told me before she gave into societal pressures when it comes to marriage and kids#so the 'love of her life' part of the quote doesn't really fit#but it does hit hard sometimes to realise that she really. really would have been happier if she never had vi and I#it's definitely tough to think about#am I glad she had us? sort of#like. I exist. so that could count as a positive#but considering that she's a good person but a bad mother. sometimes I wish she never did#she's still my mom. I still wish she could have been happy in life#now she's just 50 and full of regrets#so looking at old photos always make me.. sad. melancholic. I suppose#she was really pretty in her 20s though#on one hand I'm happy I don't look like her because I wouldn't want to be reminded every time I look in the mirror#(suirencore)#but on the other I'd certainly rather look like her than my dad#lose-lose either way. really
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i'm in a rough spot because i love nature but i'm also psychotically germophobic so every moment i sit in nature i feel like im catching 80000 diseases
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is it silly that i really do worry about never being able to fully engage in fandom anymore and slowly becoming less and less engaged as i grow older and more busy and burdened with responsibility until i'm completely disconnected from it
#don't get me wrong i do hope that i'll continue to become happier and that my career will treat me well#and i'm doing everything i can to help make that happen#but it's like. i only really was part of fandom when i was severely mentally ill and isolated and just needed escapism#if i'm not careful the part of my brain that was dedicated to fandom will just stop existing#because i want my career to *also* be all about storytelling#and i LOVE being in shows and working on projects and taking interesting classes#but then i become so absorbed in them that i forget to come on here#let alone have the creative energy to write fic or make fan stuff#and i do love fandom!!! there are plenty of things outside it that make me happy but so does this#maybe i just need better time management#but still. i do wonder#i also live in perpetual fear of becoming famous and then losing all anonymity even on tumblr#which i hope will never happen (i want to be sucessful & wouldn't mind being famous but i NEED at least a few things in my life to be priva#private)#i think this fear is definitely blown out of proportion by my anxiety though#just. thinking.#belle.txt
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Sex Ed Time
ok I'm gonna tell you about some things that might happen if you are transitioning m->f. this is not a comprehensive list just my own experience, be sure to do your own research I just really wanted to voice how this affects me because I think open discussion about this type of stuff is just more helpful for everyone rather than keeping it private
BOOBS HURT WHEN THEY GROW
your sex drive (libido) will probably go down a lot
facial hair is very hard to get rid of
my go-to gender affirming clothing is high-waisted jeans. I suggest going to a goodwill or some sort of cheap store that lets you try on clothes to figure out what you like
muscle mass will go down, fat will be redistributed
boobs do all sorts of crazy stuff when you run / exercise
overtime your skin will get softer, you also might smell nicer, and I've been told it can thin body hair but I don't really see it all that much 🤷
your brain chemistry can change when you reduce testosterone and increase estrogen, there are lots of factors that contribute toward any changes to your personality, but hormones can have an impact as well. for me this is a good thing because I struggle with allowing myself to feel emotions sometimes, no matter how hard I tried I was never really able to get myself to cry. I've gotten closer to being able to cry since I started transitioning though and that makes me very happy
this is a slow process that can take several years, ultimately you're going to be in your body for several years regardless, so if this is something you want it's definitely something you should try to pursue if possible. the time will pass anyways, and it does feel nice to work towards something that can make you happier.
also this is very important, you don't need to do any sort of hormone replacement therapy in order to be trans. not everybody can access HRT, and for those who can access it, not everybody wants to take on all the changes that come with treatments. you don't have to chemically or physically change your body in any way in order to deserve respect
all right that's all I have for right now feel free to add anything in the comments, I would especially like to hear from trans men what your experiences have been, I think openly talking about these types of things can really help some people
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Thats because all you do is read crime and punishment. And then watch whatever adaptions you can find. Or read comic adaptions as well. And so on.
#floyd.txt#not fanfiction though. ive never been into that really#that always feels ironic considering fallen rose but it does just use stands friends who dont know jojo read and liked it#someone write about rodya getting a happier life. for i care about him. and sonya as well. oh god#i know im obsessed with my rodya but oh sonya💔 they shouldve let her kill too#i do consider dragging my friend to make the yuri version with me. though you could argue the original is yuri#something...fun~#hmm...#rodya will stay my usual rodya sesign. because the rodya i draw is a lesbian. who uses masc terms like meeee#femme rodyas are preddy cute but butches have my heart forever#i can ramble forever you know. i am also sick..#so..
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t'will admit i do freestyle it a little and go slightly higher when i miss a dose. doubt that even does anything in the long run though
#being on birth control and mood stabilizers does not make it easy to tell if T affects any of that lol#i just have been going on external appearance like i could not tell you if it makes me happier or angrier or whatever#looking more like how i want to look does make me happier though you do have to weigh it against like
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💞new year new blog makeover💞
#you know what... even though i feel weird today i am genuinely such a happy person at the moment.#i'm kinda winning at life. it really does get better#i know i've moved pretty far from when i exclusively posted lesbian yearning but i'm so much happier using this blog as an archive#i especially like making gifs of stuff i love. they're for me first#i have loads of private ones that will never see the light of day lmao#i have been giffing måneskin's (victoria's) entire career basically and those'll be staggered throughout the year#idk how long it'll take to post everything - probably not a year lmao but i have lots and i want to stagger them#i also have marine stuff to post every so often#annnnd i'm doing a countdown to honkai's part 2 release day via gif sets starting today#anyway have a happy new year guys <3#i think the only thing i regret is making my url sapphic instead of specifically dyke. but it fit at the time#when i was struggling with myself. but now it's my gif watermark so i don't wanna change it lol#sapph's post
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.
Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3
When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.
It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.
Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.
Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.
A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.
You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.
Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.
~
“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.
“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.
“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.
“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.
They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.
“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.
“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.
You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.
You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.
They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.
You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.
“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?
“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.
“OW!”
~
Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?
The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.
Well, unless you were there.
“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.
“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.
“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.
“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.
Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.
For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.
There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.
“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.
“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.
“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.
“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.
Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.
There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.
He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.
It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.
~
“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.
“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.
Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.
“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”
“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.
You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.
“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.
“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”
“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.
“Please,” he mutters.
“What was that?”
“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.
“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.
“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.
“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.
“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.
In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.
With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.
And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.
“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask
“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.
“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.
“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.
“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.
“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.
~
It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.
Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.
Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.
“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.
She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.
“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.
“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”
You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.
“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.
“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.
And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.
~
People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.
It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.
“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.
“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.
“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”
Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.
Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.
“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”
~
“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.
“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.
Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.
“What makes you think so?”
“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.
“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.
Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.
“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.
“We’re actually married.”
The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.
Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3
Part two out now!! Read it here.
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman#miguel x reader#miguel ohara x reader#spiderverse x reader#miguel o hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#marvel
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Second reblog bc actually I have more thoughts
If you can't remember (cuz I've only drawn him once) my Au!Walter has a WereWolf (WereHound?) curse and he hides from everyone every full moon
To bad he can't find the words to tell little Woodie about their shared curse. Not without a way to break it
#they are both so afraid of being alone again#Walter is the first adult in Woodie’s life that hadn’t immediately written him off bc of his curse and really engaged with his interests#let alone both!#Woodie is probably desperate to get/keep his approval and terrified of driving him off by being ‘too much’ or too monsterous#consider Woodie getting extremely triggered by the phrase “put him/it down” bc even though the idea of killing him to get rid of the curse#was shut down by the adults around him growing up#it was still suggested and that was very traumatizing for him#and oh boy Walter is trying his best to be the best parent to Woodie he can be#and he knows he should accept Woodie’s curse for what it is#but he can’t help but wish he could free Woodie from it#bc not only has Walter had his own terrible experiences with having a similar curse but also#he can see how traumatized Woodie is from how people have treated him bc of it#and Walter hates himself for the chance he might lose control and hurt the ppl he cares about bc his curse#and the idea that Woodie might fall into the same cycle of self-hatred is killing him#and he’s terrified of Woodie not only finding out abt his cause and thinking he’s dangerous#but also finding out the lengths he takes to hide his curse bc if Walter’s so ashamed of his own curse#what does that say abt how he sees Woodie when he has such a similar curse?#such an emotionally charged subject for the both of them#I like to think Walter freaked the fuck out when he realized he was Woodie’s parent now#terrified less of the parental responsibility and more of the chance of failing to be the role model Woodie deserves#then he vents abt it to Webber like ‘I am not cut out for this someone’s who’s better at this should be taking care of him not me’#Webber: ‘well he didn’t choose someone else. he looks up to you yknow?’#Walter: ‘/why though/‘#he cannot imagine someone wanting him to be their parent#but also being Woodie’s parent and spending time with this bright funny kid who’s as interested in nature as he is makes him happier than#he’s been in a long time. maybe ever#and he’s so afraid to lose that and he’s so afraid of Woodie hating him
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My boyfriend has really vivid, elaborate dreams. He’ll often wake up and talk about some grand narrative- travel, exploration, politics, performances. I’ve always been a little jealous, he can hold really good plots together for them sometimes.
But anyway, this does have a downside; vivid, elaborate dreams make for vivid, elaborate nightmares. I can usually tell when it’s one of those nights, since he grinds his teeth pretty badly.
I was never quite sure what to do when I knew he was having a bad time of it, though the grinding alone was enough to worry me and push me towards intervening. I used to just shake him gently, hope to rouse him just enough to reset the dream or something, but it wasn’t too effective and anyway waking him up all the time isn’t good for rest.
I’m rather proud of the strategy I eventually settled on: gently, so as not to wake him up, I’d lay one arm across his hands, wrapping his fingers around me so that he was holding on. Nightmares being nightmares, I can usually count on a pretty tight grip when this happens.
It may seem a little odd, but consider that holding on to something with both hands is typically a very agentic frame of mind. We hold on to things that give us power, in one way or another, and possessing objects often makes us feel powerful in some respects. That has consequences, even for a dreaming mind.
I knew it was working when he woke up rather mystified from one such dream, and told me that he’d been running through the caverns of some dungeon or cave system, pursued by monsters, but then all of a sudden he was holding a giant anime sword and fought them off instead. So I got to be a sword for him that night, I was delighted.
I don’t usually get to know exactly what happened, since even for a very vivid dreamer like Ritter, nine tenths of these things get forgotten. But I know I’ve been things like door handles, steering wheels, stuff like that. And even when I don’t know what I am to him, he doesn’t grind his teeth nearly as much- the sleep is deeper and more peaceful, so I get plenty of feedback that it’s working.
It’s such a perfect encapsulation of love in microcosm, isn’t it? No matter how much you mean to them, and how much they mean to you, the gap between two conscious lives is fundamentally separating you. But fundamental does not mean insurmountable. There’s this whole world in him, full of dreams and perspectives that I’ll never truly experience. But I will be a part of those worlds all the same, finding little ways here and there to make sure that the dreams of me make him a better, stronger, and happier person.
Or at least, so one hopes. It’s a difficult challenge, and things often go awry. But usually you get at least a little lucky.
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