#my teeth hurt from writing this

[aliveinacoffin]

Okokokokok, i haven’t asked for a fic in years but could you do a Miguel x Reader where the reader is a spider person who is also physicist from a different universe and it’s like late night coffee talks with miguel in the society.

Raaaaaaaaah i feel like miguel just has such a fucked up sleep schedule, so i think it’d be cute to have someone join him :)

omg yes ofcc this seems so soft wwefhaehjafh you guys mak me mentally ill, you also make me do research like a NERD because I know next to nothing about atoms n nerd shit /lh /j

Coffee For Us

Honestly, running into your scary ass boss at nearly three in the morning almost made you shit bricks, but the second? The third? It almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose.

TW!:none, other than some fluff :)

Divider credits to @cafekitsune!

Requests are still open!!!

You sighed, perching your glasses on top of your head. The only sound that filled the pristine white room was the coffee maker, the steady pour of its hot contents filling you with a familiar peace. You rubbed your eyes hard, black vision filling with stars. You missed your spider senses going off, that familiar tingling in your head ignored. You opened your eyes, blinded by bright artificial blue and blood red filling your sights. The colors made your head swim, and you stumbled back. Gaining your vision back, you were greeted by the sight of the man who was technically your boss, even if he didn't pay you. You flustered immediately, face heating up and snapping wide awake.

"Jesus, I didn't see you there." You sighed, clutching a hand over your heart.

"Sorry." He sighed, rustling through the white cupboards for something.

"It's fine, just late-night jitters you know." You laughed awkwardly, rubbing your arm as you watched him. You knew he worked odd hours, often working overtime more often than not. It was obvious now too, deep eyebags and unshaven stubble on his tanned skin on his face.

"Sure." The coffee pot stopped, signifying it was done creating what it was designed for. You poured yourself a hearty cup, in preparation for the long night ahead of you. You were trying to see if you could create teleportation, because if a man could create cross-dimensional portals then god damn you could create teleportation, atoms be damned. 

Miguel watched you with tired eyes, holding a bright neon pink coffee cup that said ‘IT’S MY GODDAMN BIRTHDAY BITCH!’ in bold black lettering. You snickered while pouring his mug.

“Good choice Sir.” You eyed the cup, before looking back up at him. When you turned away to put the pot back in its place, Miguel took a glance down, sighing when he realized the cup he had picked.

“I don’t know why these cups are even in here.” He sighed, bringing up the drink to his plump lips.

“I think they’re funny.” You shrugged, sipping your cup as well. “Plus, there’s worse ones in there, I’m sure.” You shrugged, looking sound the dark room. After hours, a lot of the lights in the Spider Society were kept off manually to be turned on when needed. When sunrise hit, all the lights would flick on, illuminating the white castle.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, pinche menso’s can't take anything seriously.” Miguel shook his head, ruffling his peppered hair. His messy hair only looking messier, but it didn’t look unattractive. You looked away, trying not to think such thoughts about your boss.

“I think it’s funny, you shouldn’t take everything so seriously, that doesn’t sound fun at all.” You shook your head, smiling softly as to show you meant no offense.

Miguel snorted in response, turning around to sulk somewhere else. You shrugged, walking your own way back to your workstation. 

A couple of days later, you found yourself in the same situation, seeking out a late-night cup of coffee after a session of going nowhere. Back in the breakroom closest to you, you grabbed an apple and shoved it in your pocket as you started a new pot of coffee.

“That didn’t seem like a bad pot. What a waste.” A voice sighed from behind you, and turned around, relaxing when you saw it was Miguel.

“It was cold and sitting you for god knows how long.” You sniffed, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“You’ve never heard of a microwave?” Miguel shook his head, blindly reaching out to grab another cup.

“Gross, absolutely disgusting.” You laughed slightly, shaking your head as you gave him an incredulous look. He merely shrugged, leaning on the white counter as he listened to the rhythmic drip drip drip of the coffee. You saw his eyes wander to the bulge in your lab coat, and you grabbed the apple, showing it off to him.

“It’s not good for you to eat so late.” He reprimanded, shaking his head.

“It’s not for eating,” You shook your head, tossing the fruit in the air and catching it in one swift movement. “It’s for experimenting.” You smirked, putting it back in your large pocket and shuffling around your other pocket to fish out a pen and notebook.

“Experimenting what?” Miguel asked because even as smart and involved with the society as he was, he couldn’t be involved with every experiment and test the spiders did.

“Teleportation!” You smiled, opening your notebook to him, and he tried to read over your crazy writing and decipher your excited doodles.

“I already did that.” He was hunched over, arms crossed while he leaned over the desk to read your writing. His eyes flicked up to you, bright red irises watching your reaction.

You rolled your eyes, uncrossing your own arms to let them fall uselessly at your side.

“Dimensional teleportation. That’s super long and not exactly easily done. What I want is to make it as quick as a button, to teleport from one side.” You sidestepped, only moving a couple of feet to the right of you. “To the other.”

He hummed, raising his eyebrows as he leaned up back to his full terrifying height. 

“Well, good luck with that. I had an AI to help me with the goober, I can’t imagine how long it will take on your own.” The coffee pot was now half full.

“It’s actually going surprisingly well. At first, I tried doing cool like, disappearing effect thing, since it looked cooler and it was like a video game, but then it opened up a whole new world of questions. What would happen to your body? Was a new one being created? What would happen to one’s memories? So now I’m trying to make it sort of like a door. Where I infuse the technology with the watch, to make it easier for us to carry around. As to the how I’m still trying to work out the kinks, for now, I can open a two-way portal. Like walking through a blanket to another place. But anything I open the ‘door’ dies on its way out. I’ve turned like, ten apples to mush at this point, and if I’m going to be honest, it’s driving me insane.” You laughed, catching your breath after your long and nonsensical rant.

At this point, the coffee pot was full, and Miguel was pouring himself a cup of the hot liquid. Still, despite your slightly crazed rambling, he was attentive paying attention. He poured your empty cup, making unbroken eye contact with you. 

“Sounds interesting, I could help you out one day if you don’t mind.” He shrugged, pushing himself off the counter. He stayed still, staring you down while you blushed.

“I-if you want to! I don’t mind at all.” Your eyes flickered down to look anywhere else but his handsome face, and you found yourself deliriously laughing at his choice of cup. Miguel looked down, sighing in defeat at the sight. 

It as a plain white cup, with the words “Slap my ass like a drum papi’ on it.

“Seriously, when will they grow up.” He sighed, taking a sip on his way out. 

“Hopefully ever!” You called out, leaving the opposite way as him t continue your adventure.

You were so close, you just knew it. The next night, you found yourself in the same position as yesterday. Making a cup of coffee late at night. This time, you had simply taken the whole fruit bowl, not wanting to waste another moment of your precious time. The teleporter was slowly but surely coming together. After months of pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the project, you knew you were on the verge of a breakthrough. 

“Are you still working on your teleporter?” Miguel's familiar voice rumbled from behind you, but you didn’t bother to look up from your notebook. You had set up your phone in a way so that you could continue your nonsensical notes, hand moving faster than lighting as you jotted down whatever was in your mind.

“I never stopped working.” You rasped, the sound of your voice evidence of your exhaustion.

“Oh.” He sounded taken aback. “Why not? You need as much rest as you can to be at one hundred percent.” Hypocrite.

“I’m so close, I can feel it.” You shook your head, rocking on the balls of your feet as excitement shot through you.

“How?” He asked, and you could hear the click! of cups as he searched for a coffee mug.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged shaking your head. “Spider-sense?” You twitched your nose as you started a new sketch, a diagram of how to fully complete the damn thing.

“That’s stupid.” He deadpanned, and you looked up, back cracking as you fully stood up straight.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have any.” You stuck your tongue out, flexing your stiff fingers. He raised his eyebrows at that, and let out a small chuckle.

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” He rolled his eyes, crouching down to fish out a snack from the bottom drawer.

You shrugged, going back to review what you had just written down. You heard the cabinet shut, and shuffling to the side of you, bu you paid no mind.

“That’s wrong.” A blue finger popped into view, tapping on one of the equations you had put down.

“What? How?” You looked up at Miguel. Not backing out where he had stepped into your space. You always thought he would be cold, his suit would probably suck up any warmth he emitted. But in actuality, he was very warm. He wasn’t swelteringly hot, instead, he was cozy warm, like a calm camp fire. He smelt like expensive cologne and slightly of sweat, but somehow the two scents intermingled into a pleasant musk. Like a worn shirt that could be washed, but didn’t need to be.

“You carried the X when you should’ve solved for it, then multiplied the answer when you should’ve halved it.” Miguel explained, moving his finger away, but not himself. His face was uncovered from the neck up, giving you a full view of his handsome face. His fangs poked out barely from behind his lips, crooked teeth just visible.

Oh, thank you sir.” You breathed, attention split between his mouth and his gorgeous eyes.

“You don’t have to call me sir, Miguel is fine.” He breathed back, copying your movement. Neither of you moved from each other's spot. It wasn’t as if this was your first time interacting, you and Miguel have had many run in’s in the past, and he seemed to yell at you slightly less than the others. But you two hadn’t really had personal one on one time with each other, and it seemed like the more you had them, the more you two seemed to be magnetized to each other.

“Thank you, Miguel.” You cleared your throat, and the two of you stepped back, faces warming with the realization of what just happened.

“Of course.” He nodded stiffly, and the coffee pot dinged, breaking the awkward silence.

He poured you a cup first, then himself. You laughed when you saw what he grabbed this time.

It was a cup with cat girls all over it, their coverage varying from girl to girl. They all said different things, ranging from just a simple ‘Meow!’ to ‘Please pet me everywhere Nyaa~!’

“Oh my god, whose cup even is that!” you covered your mouth as you laughed.

“I have no idea, and I don’t want to know.” Miguel rolled his eyes, a deep frown on his face. His eyes flickered back to you, watching you with soft eyes as you laughed at him. You wiped away the tears in your eyes, your face hurting from the wide smile on your face.

“If you really are as close as you think you are, I’d be willing to help you.” He offered, shrugging one shoulder while he avoided eye contact.

“Hmm? Oh, yes! Please! I just know I’m almost done.” You made a pinching motion with your fingers, inching them together. He nodded, walking over to the main table and grabbing a bowl of fruit.

“Alright.” He smiled softly, letting you lead the way. “Let’s figure this out.” You both left the dark breakroom, coffee pot left mostly empty.

[maple-leifarts]

*has one mildly bad day* I Need To Make A Vent Blog Right Now

[medicinemane]

Should make a pain killer that actually kills (or even touches) pain

[winterrose42]

"I can fix him" "i can make him worse"

I can put him in therapy and make him learn communication skills

[blackat-t7t]

I went back and forth a lot on whether to put this in a reblog of that poll about likes and reblogs that's going around. Ultimately I decided not to, because really it's about something that post isn't actually saying, just that other people in the larger conversion about likes and reblogs have said.

I don't really see this IN posts of art and fic, but when posts made solely to encourage people to reblog come around, they often include someone in the chain saying something along the lines of:

"Likes are WORTHLESS!" or "Likes MEAN NOTHING!"

And I think, a real person saw your work and liked it. They told you they liked it, even if they told you through a button built into the site. Is that really worthless?

And I guess seeing that opinion just makes me feel kind of small and pathetic and sad, both as a creator and a viewer.

Please don't misunderstand! I'm not trying to say "creators should be grateful for whatever scraps viewers give them"! And, as a creator, I'm not trying to act "more grateful than thou", or flaunt my own humility in appreciating scraps!

I'm saying "are likes really just scraps?"

I consider myself a creator, but the truth is I don't make many of my own posts, or post a lot of fic, comparatively. I don't get a lot of engagement, not just because of the current state of fandom, but because I just don't have much TO engage with. So when I get a notification "[someone] liked your post", and I see that the truly liked MY post, not just something I reblogged, I get a little thrill.

Hearing that the thing I get so excited over, is something other creators disregard entirely, makes me feel kind of pathetic.

And as a viewer, hearing "likes are worthless, only reblogs matter"-- well, creators (myself included!) often say that we want to connect with people through our works. Hearing that my liking something, my saying I enjoyed it, is worthless and all that matters is whether I help spread it by reblogging- it makes me feel like creators, many of whom I admire, aren't interested in connecting with me.

IDK, maybe I'm just making this about me when it shouldn't be, especially in that last part. If people really believe that someone enjoying their work is worthless if they don't enjoy it enough to reblog- I guess that's their right. It's not my place to tell them how to feel about their work and how it's received.

I don't know. Like I said, the whole thing just makes me feel small. And pathetic. And sad.

Who knows. Maybe I'm misinterpreting everything and people are saying "WITHIN THE STRICT CONTEXT OF HOW TO GET MORE VIEWS, likes mean nothing, because there is no algorithm", and I'm getting worked up over nothing.

I'm just not sure anymore. I feel wrung out, and I just want to post this and be done with it.

Please don't take the things I've said here in bad faith.

[exasperatedoctopus]

Have a crackpot theory: the people who enjoy most of the new police procedurals that have been coming out recently just secretly wanna watch soap operas but don’t have the Guts

[covenofthearticulate]

girl. send me some fucking vampire thoughts, i'm dying.

[gay-jesus-probably]

...Okay so this Light Dragon is Zelda, right? Or connected to her somehow. Has to be. I just got a pic of it for the compendium, and saw the entry gushes about how actually this dragon is the prettiest dragon ever, and I obviously must adore it more than anything in the world. The writers do not give a single hint of a fuck about anyone who isn't Zelda, I fucking KNOW how they work. She's been acting shady as fuck, but literally none of the other characters have even acknowledged that she's been the main antagonist so far, I can see the writing on the walls!

To be clear, I have mostly ignored the plot; all I know is that Zelda was yeeted back in time at the start, I have. No fucking clue what happened to her back there, or what she's been doing since she STOLE THE MASTER SWORD, THAT UTTER BITCH.

Anyways, I'm calling it now, light dragon is 100% zelda. Look, all of Link's supposed friends have been ignoring him getting his goddamn arm ripped off so that they can fuss over Zelda having ditched them, I CAN READ THE PATTERNS HERE. I WANT TO LIKE THIS INCARNATION OF ZELDA, I REALLY DO, BUT THE WRITING KEEPS SHOVING HER DOWN MY FUCKING THROAT, SO I KIND OF HATE IT WHEN SHE SHOWS UP BECAUSE THE STORY GRINDS TO A HALT SO EVERYONE CAN SUCK ZELDA'S DICK.

And I hate that, because there's so much potential there! Like that stuff about Zelda being a complete bitch to Link? I LOVE IT. She had a character arc there, and it was messy and complicated! And the whole thing with her powers??? I love it, there's so much there, she's obviously not going to get her powers by standing in ponds all day, but she kept doing it anyways! There was such a character arc there of her being 100% certain she knew how the world worked, and everything she was doing turned out to be self destructive and stopping herself from achieving her goals. That's really fucking interesting! But nope, no character development for Zelda, she was actually perfect the whole time, and even when she wasn't it was really someone else's fault. They wasted such a good character arc; I really love the storyline that she could have had. And that makes her more annoying to me, because she could be so goddamn interesting if the writing was better, but instead she's this generic bitch that I couldn't care less about.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 328

Adjective: Violent

Noun: Teeth

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Violent: using or involving physical force intended to hurt, damage, or kill someone or something; (especially of an emotion or unpleasant or destructive natural force) very strong or powerful; (of a color) vivid; (law) involving an unlawful exercise or exhibition of force

Teeth: a set of hard, bony enamel-coated structures in the jaws of most vertebrates, used for biting and chewing; hard, pointed structures in invertebrate animals, typically functioning in the mechanical breakdown of food; genuine force or effectiveness of a body or in a law or agreement; the projecting parts on a tool or other instrument, especially a series that functions or engages together, such as cogs on a gearwheel or points on a saw or comb; the projecting parts on an animal or plant, especially jagged or dentate rows on the margin of a leaf or shell; an appetite or liking for a particular thing; roughness given to a surface to allow color or glue to adhere

[oh-surprise-its-me]

sobbing thinking of chris ron and tom + forehead kisses 🥺😭

-f 🫶

One of these days you’re going to have to send me all of your thoughts about them….

But here’s my present to you dear

—

Chris was exhausted he’s leaned on the counter. All he wants is some coffee. The drip is taking forever.

He hears the floor behind him creak. Arms wrap around his waist he leans back into Ron’s chest. “Baby go back to bed. I’ll bring this in. Go join Tommy.” Chris can only hum. Ron presses a kiss to his forehead. Normally Chris would bitch that Ron has to bend a little to do that but he doesn’t care enough today.

He slowly makes his way back to their bedroom. There tangled in the blankets is Tom. Chris can’t help but grin at the picture. Big scary iceman all warm in their bed.

He slips under the covers and crawls closer. He kisses Tom’s head before pulling Tom on top of him. Tom let’s out a sleepy noise but falls back into the deep sleep.

Chris looses time somewhere. Because when he opens his eyes Ron is back with food. Tom is sitting up looking rumpled and well rested. “Morning Chrisy.”

Chris hums again and takes a sip of the coffee Ron passes him. Tom drags Ron into a kiss. “Thank you for the food.” Ron smiles at them both, “anytime.”

They both know he means that. If it was 4am and they asked for food he would make them food. Bless this man. He’s the best husband in the whole world

—

The day ends exactly how it started. Ron in the middle of the bed. Chris holding onto one arm and Tom laying on the other. Tom reaches up and kisses Ron’s head. “Love you. Love you too Chris.”

Chris presses a kiss to Ron’s shoulder, “love you Tommy. Love you Ron.”

Ron is grinning as big as he can, “love you both so much. I can’t believe how much I love you two I got so lucky.”

The two men look at each other. They’re the lucky ones they both know Ron would disagree if they voice this though so they just kiss him and lay back down.

[orcelito]

You know what man the fact that I can't fuckin do shit with my cheek without pain is NOT helping bc I can't like. Smile. Or sing along to songs. Bc too dramatic of movements Hurts

Sitting here like 😐 all the time and I swear my mood is following

[phagodyke]

argh..

[unboundbnha]

I’ve started *gags, chokes* writing….again….*spits out blood, gasps and gurgles as I fall to the ground*

[hephaestiions]

sometimes, because i really hate myself, i feel like writing an EBYT prequel abt the trial

[thepandalion]

things nobody tells you about being 20:

You get more teeth??

[lynxgirlpaws]

I spent quite literally one [1] hour with my father and now feel like absolute shit. Unironically how does he do this [i am impressed]