technically-ghostly-collection

[technically-ghostly-collection]

Guys I know… it’s been far too long since I posted, tbh, I didn’t like how I ended the Miguel fic so I stopped posting it and the next chapter was NSFW. So I chickened out. ANYWAY, I’ll post the next chapter, and make it the last so it’s gonna be MAD long, but I digress.

I will be writing more multi-fandom fics, right now I’m hyperfixated on Demon Slayer or Kimetsu No Yaiba, which ever y’all weebs wanna call it. So possibly Hashira fan fictions coming, also VERY into JJK, so you’ll be getting so many JJK fics. The next one I’m posting is just a quick short story on my hashira Kaito and Rengoku, it’s just raw angst, literally just angst. So BEAR WITH ME. <3 sincerely, ghost.

[technically-ghostly-collection]

Sorry for the lack of part 4 y’all, had an emergency come up so part 4 will be released NEXT week. I will keep y’all updated! Have this for now.

[technically-ghostly-collection]

[technically-ghostly-collection]

OKAY PART 3, I’m trying to narrow this down to 5 parts so this is going to be pretty long. Just 2 parts left. I have a LOT of story because I was writing uncontrollably for like… 2 weeks but I don’t want to drag this out. Either way, I’m hoping y’all enjoy and I was asked about a tag list on part 2 and I am so sorry… I have no idea how to do that. BUT YOUR SUPPORT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME SO THANK YOU.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: Depiction of depression and paranoia.

Word count: 10.8K

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It’s been about two months since you’ve left the apartment, you’ve been too paranoid to leave because you’re afraid of your stalker, after the window was fixed it’s been permanently locked and bolted. Groceries have been far between, you get them delivered every few weeks if you have the money for it but since you’ve secluded yourself your work has been docking your pay. Even though you’ve put in the same amount of work, just at home instead of in the office.

You’re sitting in bed and wrapped in a blanket, working on your next big article when the phone starts ringing, you look down and immediately recognize the caller id. It’s Miguel, you pick up, your blood boiling.

“Funny that you told me not to bother you, It’s 3 in the morning. Why are you calling me?” You pull the phone away as the line hangs up, giving it a confused look. ‘Great, I guess he’s into prank calls’ you think to yourself, going back to your laptop to continue typing up the article.

You continue on for a few more minutes before hearing your doorbell ring, your blood turns ice cold as panic claws at your skin. You sit frozen on your bed before it rings a second time, finally getting up on shaky legs with bat in hand. You make it to the front door as the doorbell rings one more time, looking through the peephole and you groan. You open the door, bat still in hand just in case it’s a trick.

“Again, it’s 3 in the fucking morning, why’d you call me? I thought breaking and entering was your thing”

Miguel sighs, he honestly looks a little defeated and you give him a confused look, “your apartment is starting to smell like a corpse, I can smell it from below you because it’s so strong. Honestly thought you’d killed over.”

“Again, your charm never fails to shine through, I’ll plug in my wax warmer or something, happy?”

“Far from it,” he says, glaring down at you. “Also, your mailbox is flooded, I think the mail person got confused and can’t fit anymore in there so they put your shit in my box.”

You curse at yourself under your breath. “Of course they did, why would they read the names on the mail boxes?” you sigh softly, rubbing your face. “I’ll take care of it, now please get the hell out of here, you appeased your curiosity, I am in fact still alive. Have a nice night.” You go to close the door before Miguel stops you.

“Listen,” Miguel sighs “I don’t like people, I don’t like talking to people, but I want to help you out. Your apartment smells like a health hazard, and I don’t want to have to be subjected to it anymore. Also I’m sure your wrist is a hindrance.” He points out the cast still encasing your wrist.

Even though he’s already seen it you still tuck your wrist behind your back, blocking the entrance to your apartment. “Okay, let me put this differently, I do not want your help, this shouldn’t matter so much to you, I’m an adult and I can take care of myself.”

He grimaces and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God you’re infuriating, the only reason I’m concerned about what’s going on is because I barely hear your footsteps anymore, I can hear your alarm go off for HOURS before you stop it, I damn well thought you were dead! Your alarm is annoying, the smells are annoying, I. Am. Annoyed!”

You feel the dam start to break, your eyes prickling with tears as you look down. He’s so harsh to you and in your fragile mental state you have a hard time controlling your emotions. You wipe your eyes softly. “Okay fine, I get it, can you just leave? Please? I don’t need to be scolded and talked down to right now and I’d appreciate it if you could leave me alone.” You try to close the door again but he holds the door open easily. You could swear his eyes are glowing a deep red as he looks down at you.

“I won’t make you pay to have my seat professionally cleaned if you let me help you clean your apartment” he bargains. Half of you thinks he’s joking.

“I don’t need your help Miguel, I don’t need you to baby me and treat me like I’m fucking fragile!”

“It’s gonna cost you $5,000 to clean the seats, they’re custom made and incredibly difficult to clean”

You go wide eyed at the price, that’s the equivalent of your rent. You sigh softly, “I… I’ll pay for it, I don’t need your help, especially since you’re just going to degrade me…”

“You obviously do need my help! Your apartment is a wreck, so I’m going to help you out, I’ll hold back on the insults. Whatever it takes to make you clean this goddamn place and actually get some human interaction! I’m helping, end. of. story.”

You can feel the tears starting to fall down your face now and a sob block up your throat. “I don’t want you here Miguel! I want you out of here, now! It’s 3 in the morning, I don’t know why you care so fucking much! There’s not much to care about!” Your voice keeps cracking and your throat feels almost weak. “Can you please just leave?!”

You watch him take a deep breath. “I’m coming back here tomorrow to help you clean up, I’m not going to give up on you like you’ve given up on yourself. I’ll be here at 8”

“God I hate you right now, I don’t want you here tomorrow. We’re not friends, we’re just neighbors who were unfortunate enough to cross paths”

“And that’s fine, but I’m coming back here tomorrow, we don’t have to be friends for me to help you” he glares at you one last time before moving out of the way.

You don’t waste a second and slam the door shut behind him, locking it and wiping your eyes some more. ‘God I fucking hate nosey neighbors’ you think as you shuffle back to your room. You climb back into bed and wrap back up in your blanket, turning your laptop back on and continue on working.

Time passes by so quickly when you’re distracted from the world, before you know it it’s 8:30 am and there’s no sign of Miguel. ‘Maybe he’s not coming back’ you assume, you climb out of bed and shuffle over to your bathroom. You look in the mirror and immediately feel worse about your situation.

“God maybe I should shower…” you say as you let your hair out of the headband holding it back. You’re about halfway through before you hear a knock at the door and practically jump out of your skin. ‘Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me’ you look at the counter and realize your phone isn’t here with you, groaning and trying to finish up as fast as possible while the door bell is spammed a few more times.

“I’M COMING! CALM YOUR SHIT!” You yell towards the door, climbing out of the shower and drying off. You slip a robe on and dry your hair before rushing out to the front door, you look through the peephole and unlock all three locks, two of which you installed soon after you came home a long two months ago. You open your door just a sliver and poke your head out. “I told you not to come back.”

“And I told you I was,” Miguel shrugs, holding a bucket full of cleaning supplies and gloves. “Now where are we starting?”

It took the both of you about a month to clean your apartment well enough to where the smell faded, you had to throw many dishes out as well as half the items in your fridge. Slowly, Miguel starts being less intense and starts to actually talk to you instead of insulting you. You didn’t like having to see him so often at first but he eventually grew on you. You had to confess that it was nice to see his face, his stupidly handsome face. He must have liked spending time with you as well because another month passes and he’s still coming over, less frequently but still often enough to where you feel comfortable letting him in now. You sit down on your couch to relax before hearing a knock on the door, Miguel then comes in for your weekly movie night. He quickly pieced together that you were seriously lacking in friends and ‘it’s important that you interact with people’. You have the same response every time ‘maybe you should practice what you preach’. You look over the back of the couch at him.

“Breaking and entering yet again?” You jest.

“You know me, I love breaking into places” he says with the same flat tone as always. He comes in with two grocery bags of take out. “I went to the Mexican food place down by Park, they seem authentic and since I really don’t feel like cooking tonight, I just decided to pick something up for us.”

“Well shit okay, yeah let’s try it, I’m excited” you smile at him, patting the cushion next to you and takes one of the bags as he sits down. “What exactly did you get?” You ask as you take the box out of the bag.

“Empanadas, Carne Asada, fresh tortillas, good old fashion tacos, and some tamales, only the best stuff for movie night”

You snort, “so already better the Taco Hell” Miguel made up that little nickname after you mentioned how often you eat there during one late night movie session.

“Yes, SO much better then Taco Hell”

You laugh “okay, my main argument is that you don’t go to Taco Hell for authentic Mexican food, you go there for half assed food that’s got white people levels of spice”

And that’s when it happened, the side of Miguel’s mouth twitched, was that a smile? “That’s a horrible joke” his gaze moves from you to the sauce dripping onto his hand and down his arm from the taco he’s holding. You watch as he takes one big bite before licking up his own arm, you’re almost shocked by his actions before he glances back over at you. You look away with a blush and take a bite out of an empanada.

“What were you looking at?” Miguel asks

“I could have sworn that Mr. icy cold exterior just smiled at my joke.” You take another bite of your food, “also you just licked up your arm, it’s hard not to stare at something like that”

“I didn’t smile. You must be mistaken. And sorry for my lack of manners?” He continues to eat. “So are we gonna turn on a movie or something? Or just listen to ourselves chew?”

“What? You don’t like hearing me chew? You don’t like ASMR?” at this point you’re purposely speaking with puffed cheeks full of food just to gross him out. He rolls his eyes.

“See? I don’t know why I apologized for a lack of manners when you’re talking with your mouth full, anyway, pick a movie, let's turn something on” he grabs the remote, “and no, we’re not watching twilight.”

You were dead asleep halfway through the movie you both decided on, curled up on the arm of the couch and covered in a giant quilt. At some point Miguel left, you wake up a few hours later to a note and a clean table.

The hand writing is probably the most elegant thing you’ve seen in a while. ‘Hey, I put the left overs in your fridge, I’m sure they’ll still be good when you nuke them later. I’ll see you next week, same time. Miguel.’ You smile at the note, it’s been a long time since you’ve had a friend and you definitely didn’t expect to have such an attractive and caring one. You stick the note on your fridge and yawn, starting to shuffle towards your bedroom in a haze. Stomach full and feeling good you climb into your sheets and easily fall to sleep.

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Full disclosure, I based this off of how I handled my depression/paranoia before I started taking meds and going to therapy. So it’s not everyone’s experience! But I tried to keep it authentic to the source material. Anyway! Hope y’all enjoy. I’ll figure out a tag list eventually…

[technically-ghostly-collection]

Okay, I’m doing some revisions of part three for my Miguel fic that I’ve linked. I’m considering a name for it. But for the time being, I’ll post some smut and next week I’ll post part three. So…

Also if y’all are interested I have an Eddie Munson fan fic that I made, I can post that as well after I’m done with my Miguel fics.

[technically-ghostly-collection]

Alright let’s do this one more time, my fanfiction did a lot better then I expected (Yeah I know 31 notes isn’t a lot but it makes me happy). So here’s part two! You gotta read part one to understand this part so I linked it below, I hope y’all enjoy this one too! :D this does switch perspectives at the end to explain Miguel’s reasoning for what he does for the MC.

vvvvvvvv for part one

Part one | Part two | Part 3

TW: Injuries and Hospitals

Word count: 2.0K

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It doesn’t take long for the pain to kick in and you’re left writhing on the floor, holding your side and trying to breath through it. You start dragging yourself towards the hall closet to get a first aid kit, pain meds, anything to make this pain go away before you hear a knock at the door.

A muffled voice comes through the door, “Hey, I heard gunshots coming from here, I want to check that you’re alive!”

Fuck. It’s your downstairs neighbor. He’s very reclusive, you don’t even know why he cares so much when all he does is scowl and grumble at you. You’ve tried to be nice and make conversation with him but heaven forbid anyone acknowledges him, you barely remember his name. He knocks again, but you’re head is fogged with the pain, you’re barely registering anything going on around you. What was his name? It started with an M, you know that much, you see it on his mailbox in the mail room but when your life depends on it you can’t remember, of course.

You hear the doorhandle start to shake, and then something starting to fiddle with the lock. You continue to try and crawl towards your hall closet, taking deep breaths, You’d shout back but your vocal cords have been strained by your recent choking. You finally get to the closet and manage to open the door before your front door slowly starts to open.

“If you’re going to make noise or watch action movies maybe you should, I dunno, turn the volume… down…” you watch as your neighbor’s shadow in the doorway stops as he notices the blood on the floor. “Jesus christ, where are you? Whose blood is this?” he rushes in and sees you reaching for the first aid kit.

You glare at him, “Breaking and entering isn’t really a good look on you” you rasp.

“I think that should be the least of your worries, you sound like shit”

“Wow, thanks prince charming, that really helps”

He rolls his eyes, giving you a quick glare before he comes over and grabs the first aid kit for you, “can you walk?” You shake your head.

“That was a stupid question, try again”

He sighs, you can tell you’re getting on his nerves. Good, he insulted your jello salad at a dinner party the apartment complex was throwing, yes you’re holding a grudge. No, you won’t give it up. “Do you want my help or not?” Miguel hisses

“Wow, you’re so generous, who would have guessed that?” you cough out, wincing at your injuries and slowly prop yourself up against the wall.

He shoots you another glare before popping the first aid kit open. You blush a bit, “don’t glare and snarl at me, you’re the one who’s sticking your nose in my business”

“Would you rather I call the police to file a noise complaint?” He pulls out some gauze and medical wraps as well as some alcohol wipes. “This first aid kit is primitive, how the hell do you expect someone to work with this?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not made of money, I can’t afford the shit Alcamex is advertising”.

He goes quiet, you feel a little sense of victory being able to shut him up. He rolls up your shirt so that he can better examine your side. He stops you before you can call him a perv and pull your shirt down with a stern look and you swallow your words, letting him continue. You watch as he rips open an alcohol wipe and hiss as he starts cleaning the torn up skin.

“You might have to go to the hospital for this, it looks pretty deep”

“I would really prefer not to, it’ll be fine”

He gives you a frustrated look before just putting the gauze on and wrapping your side tight, you hold back a groan as the wrap presses against the wound.

“You should probably get your nose looked at. It looks broken and probably needs to be reset” he says as he packs everything back into the first aid kit.

“Who died and made you a doctor? Let me guess, your favorite board game is Operation.”

He gives you an agitated look, “you need to get your nose taken care of, it’s still bleeding.”

You wipe the blood off your chin and look down at your soiled shirt, cursing under your breath. “God fine, but I’m not going to the ER tonight, I’d much rather go back to bed” as you try to get up you wince and gasp out in pain at your wrist. You scowl down at it, ‘why have you betrayed me?’ you think to yourself. It’s definitely sprained just based on the size of the swelling and the feeling of fire racing through your hand and forearm due to the pressure you just put on it.

“Yeah, I’m dropping you off at the hospital, I don’t want to hear you groaning through the floorboards all night”

You hesitate before nodding, “fine… Okay fine, take me to the hospital.”

He nods before grabbing your arm and helps pull you up to your feet. Your legs feel like jello, you grab onto his arm to steady yourself and blush a bit ‘he’s awfully buff, god damn’ you think to yourself. He keeps a firm grip on your waist and wraps your arm around his shoulders, starting to help you walk out of your apartment to the parking garage downstairs. You’re already panting and sweating from the pain alone by the time you get to the car, he helps you climb in and you buckle up. He starts up the car after buckling up himself and drives off, you didn’t even notice that he put on some sunglasses before you both left and realized you left your own prescription glasses at home on your night stand between your judging looks.

“Fuck” you mumble to yourself.

He glances at you, “don’t pass out in my car.”

“Wow, nice work, I’m so comforted right now”

He rolls his eyes, the audacity of this man. “You’re welcome.”

“God you’re really getting on my nerves, why are you helping me?”

“My own selfish reasons.” He grunts out, you can tell the conversation is over based on the ice cold barrier he’s put up.

You roll your eyes and look down at your hands, feeling a blush spread on your cheeks. you don’t know why you're embarrassed. Maybe it’s because your attitude is less than savory but then again, he’s being an asshole back. He’s uninviting and abrasive and you’re still trying to put the pieces together as to why he’s so concerned because that excuse he just gave you sounded like a bunch of bullshit.

You both ride in silence the rest of the way to the hospital, you stare at the lights flying past you and dose off a bit, pressing your head to the cold window. It’s not long before your neighbor is shaking you and makes sure you’re clear of the door before coming around and helping you out. Like he promised, he’s dropped you off at the doors to the ER, not giving you so much as a second glance before going back to his car and driving off.

You stumble into the ER and a nurse helps you sit down, it takes a minute and some paperwork before they bring you back to a room. They change you into a hospital gown and before you know it you’ve got 5 stitches, a bulky stint on your wrist and a prescription for some strong pain medications that will help with your broken nose. The doctor already came in and they decided you’ll be staying the night for observation and you’ve been moved to a more permanent room, you’re trying to adjust and maybe get some rest before a nurse comes in with a clipboard.

“We just need you to fill out the emergency contact section and your insurance information and then you can rest okay? Do you need anything before I leave?”

“No I’m fine, thank you though” you smile and take the clipboard, already against having to write this down with your non-dominant hand.

“Okay, I’ll just get a refill on your water okay?”

“Okay, thank you” you give her another kind smile as she rushes out to get you more water and you start trying to fill out the form. You didn’t know how to politely say that you didn’t have any emergency contacts. You think for a minute, reflecting on your situation and shake your head. ‘I’ve got to remember his name… for the thank you card’ you chuckle a bit at your own joke. You imagine how his face will scrunch up with disgust, just like when he tried your jello salad… maybe you’ll send him a bowl. Just to make up for him breaking into your apartment.

Suddenly the phone rings next to you, you jump a bit and hesitate before answering it. “Hello?”

You cringe at your neighbor's voice, you don’t care how sultry it sounds, you’re just forced to reflect on his glaring face. “Yeah hi, I just wanted to let you know that you got blood on my seats. We’ll talk about how you’ll pay for that later.”

“Wow, you called me, at the hospital, just to tell me I stained your car’s seat?” You grab a pen and paper and start writing down the number on the receiver, you’re going to annoy the fuck out of him, you’re determined to do so.

“Yeah.. that’s the only reason I called you.” The line disconnects and you stare at the phone in raw disbelief.

You contemplate how you’re going to cuss him out when you see him next. You’re ready to make a scene and embarrass him, just like he embarrassed you. You feel like he treated you like a toddler, like you couldn’t take care of yourself or catch a bus down to the hospital when YOU were ready. You roll over, still imagining his snarl when you see him next and give him a piece of your mind. You settle down for the night, ‘I’m spamming his damn phone tomorrow’ You think as you doze off, ‘he risked his own damn seats’.

Miguel’s perspective

‘Why did I do that… that was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. When have I cared about people after I saved them?’ He knows why, he just doesn’t want to admit that he finds you attractive. And your lack of cooking ability is almost endearing. The way you smile and wave at him when you catch him in the mail room, or the way your face brightens up at the parties the landlord decides to throw. So when he saw you, broken and bleeding after he handled the two shit bags who attacked you, he couldn’t help but soften, and decide that maybe he can allow himself to care about you.

He pulls into the parking garage and climbs out, walking in to the building after locking his car up. He looks at the buttons on the elevator for a moment before pressing one, stepping out as the doors open onto your floor. ‘I’m such a fucking idiot, I shouldn’t be doing this. I have my own shit going on.’ And yet he enters your apartment, grabs a broom, and sweeps up the broken glass shattered on your floor.

It’s not long before his ‘watch’ sets off and a small hologram of a woman in heart sunglasses and a puffy coat pops up. “Hey Miguel~ You have a priority call.”

“Tell ‘em I died” he grunts out.

“Still cracking the same jokes I see” the hologram smiles. “But you are needed at headquarters, some emergency with the cafeteria and some of the spiders. A food fight has broken out”

He groans, “god why didn’t you let Jessica or Lego Spiderman take over while I was gone?”

“Because it’s more fun to create chaos, also they have their own dimensions to take care of”

“Fine, I’ll be right in” he sighs as the hologram closes out and throws the glass away. ‘Might as well be wearing a French maid outfit, they better be grateful for this when they come home’ he walks out of your apartment and makes sure the door is closed before walking out of the building.

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I wanted to include this gem from the comics in here. You’re welcome.

[technically-ghostly-collection]

I forgot to mention that I am open to constructive criticism, again this is my first fan fiction that I’m actually posting on the internet to the public. So if you have any tips or the formatting needs to be different let me know, I’m happy to hear what y’all have to say. :)

[technically-ghostly-collection]

I said I’d be writing a Miguel O’Hara fan fiction. This is my first time actually posting a fan fic. It’s a slow burn, a brief summary is you’re a journalist in Nueva York. And your saved by the one and only Spiderman 2099.

If this does well I’ll post part two, I’ve already finished writing this fan fic in Google Docs and it does get smutty so I’ll be sure to disclose that if, again, this does well.

Part one | Part two | Part three

TW: Action Sequence, Violent Crime, Weapons, and Retaliation

Word count: 1,371

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When you published that article against Alcamex and their unethical working conditions and practices you didn’t expect that you’d get your ass handed to you for it. Or that you’d meet the one and only spiderman because of it. Fidgeting and squirming in your seat as your publisher agonizes over your article. You watch their eyes skimming over the screen. “So… what’s the verdict?” you ask anxiously.

“Well I think it’s fantastic, well written, academic. This is probably the best thing you’ve written yet” they look up over their glasses at you. “However, I hope you’re ready for the repercussions that will come from this. This will put a target on your back and you need to be prepared for that.”

You laugh a bit, sweat starting to make your collar damp. “I think I’ll be fine, what are they gonna do? Threaten me? Sue me? I’m the best journalist in Nueva York. There would be too much media coverage if they did anything to me.”

“Can you be sure of that?”

Weeks later and those words are still echoing in your mind as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if it really was worth it in the end. As predicted those death threats came through but surprisingly there hasn’t been any legal action taken against you. The worst part is that’s what you’re most anxious about, ‘why hasn’t mr. Stone taken action yet’ you think to yourself.

Eventually after rolling your anxieties through your mind a few more times you slip into a restless sleep. Tossing and turning for a few hours before you hear something on the fire escape, eyes flying open the sudden noise shocking your system. At first you think it’s nothing, your downstairs neighbor uses the fire escape more often then you’d like but in an apartment complex can you really have peace? You try to roll over and go back to sleep when the sound of your window creaking open makes you sit up. Your heart rate rises and you can feel your breath quicken, you wait a few moments before hearing the window slide back in place.

‘Oh god I’m gonna die’ you think to yourself. In a panic you reach for the bat you keep beside your bed and slip a sock on the thicker end in case the intruder catches it. You slowly creep towards your door frame and tuck away in your closet, trying to take deep breaths to calm your heart. ‘Please just be a really smart racoon or possum or something’.

Your breath hitches as the door starts to slowly creaking open, eyes widening as you see a masked person creep in holding a gun. You swallow hard and wait for them to be fully in the room before jumping out and swinging at the intruder's head. Luckily for you, your sock trick has been successful, you don’t have enough time to figure out how they turned and caught the bat so quickly before you take another swing at their chest this time. You land a nice wack to their right side and watch the gun drop, kicking it across the room. You drop the bat before jumping onto the intruder as they scramble for the gun despite their new injury.

What you didn’t anticipate is that the intruder would have a friend come along with them, you feel hands grab your sides and gasp as you’re pried off your original target and tossed to the ground. You scramble to your feet and manage to dodge a punch before intruder number two lands a punch to your ribs. You gasp and grit your teeth, swinging at their head before hearing a gunshot ring out and feeling the skin on your side rip. You scream out and hold your side, luckily it just side swiped you, the adrenaline is keeping you going as you rush to the kitchen to get a knife or some other weapon. You dive behind the counter as more gunshots ring out, you can hear the wood slipping as the bullets claw through the island counter.

You wait for the gunshots to cease before grabbing the knife block, quickly ducking again and grabbing the giant chef's knife. ‘I’m so glad I sharpened these’ you think to yourself, trying to peek through the bullet holes at your attackers. You feel one of the aspiring murders grab your hair before you see them, scream out as they drag you around the counter and toss you across the room. You try to reorient yourself and get a grasp of your surroundings, the room is pitch black and all you can do is hold the knife close to your body, ready to be used.

“Who the fuck are you?! What do you want from me?!” you yell out, your eyes finally start to adjust and you see one of your attackers start to charge you. You slash the knife wildly and manage to catch their chest, you hear them scream out before they slap the knife out of your hand. You try to dive for it but the intruder grabs your arm and drags you back. “Get the fuck away from me! Get off me!”

In a panic you pull against the intruder and manage to bite his hand, your mouth filling with a metallic taste as he yells out again and punches you right in the nose. You’re instantly crying from the impact, hearing a sickening crack as your nose starts to spill blood down your face. Before you can think, you feel a gun press to your forehead and you start shaking.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was accepting your fate but you find yourself glaring up at your attackers, giving them a challenging look.

“Fucking shoot you coward” you grit out.

You close your eyes, anticipating the bullet to crash through you before hearing one of the intruders shout and the gun being removed from your forehead. Your eyes shoot open and you can see the man’s hand wrapped in glowing red rope, the glass from the window scattered across the floor as a man climbs through. All you can do is watch as the new contender kicks the original intruder and starts wrapping them in the ropes.

You feel pain enveloping your head again and scream out as the second intruder grabs your hair and pulls you up, getting you in a choke hold and holding you to his chest.

“Don’t come a step closer spiderman! Or I’ll kill the snake!” he shouts as he flexes his arm, making you gag and gasp for air.

There’s no fucking way spiderman is in your living room right now, then again, you hardly expected to be held hostage by an unknown intruder. You try to pull his arm away from your throat, refusing to give up and try to bite his arm before he covers your mouth with a gloved hand. You can feel his fingertips dig into your face and start crying more as his thumb presses against your freshly broken nose.

You watch spiderman pause, assessing the situation. You start to feel light headed as the oxygen is drained out of your lungs, clawing desperately at the intruder’s arm before feeling him suddenly release his grip on you. Gasping for air you fall to the ground and cough, swallowing as much oxygen as possible, at this point you could care less about the intruders, you’re just happy you’re alive.

You hear a scream ring out behind you and a body drop, you scramble away from the noise and turn around and watch spiderman wiping some blood off his lips, your former attacker laying at his feet and deathly still. He quickly pulls his mask back down as if you could see his features through the darkness before dragging the intruders to the window.

“T-thank you” you cough out, your throat and lungs now sore from the lack of air. The spider-man nods, not even saying a word before he grabs the two intruders and tosses them onto the fire escape. He turns back to look at you one last time before climbing out and dragging the intruders off with him.

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Y’all remember when I wrote an Eddie Munson smutty fan fiction and never posted it here because I’m a coward? Yeaaaaah time to do the same to mr Miguel O’Hara because I’m obsessed

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A small poem, written by me

As I have been exercising, I have begun to give up my anti-depressants and my ADHD medication, my life has changed dramatically, I have come full circle and I have grown a beard at the expense of being a muscular, strong, independent being. The sheer muscle and femininity I give of has scared away the men in my life, the balance of the universe has been thrown off and I can feel god’s wrath. I have the strength of a million Gaston’s and no one can stop me now. Not even Ares can intimidate me because he fears infidelity, I have so many bitches, that I am constantly getting asked to use my sheer finger-blasting power. My passion, weights and protein powder. I scared off missionaries the other day, making their penises erect and their bond with god was breaking and they left in shame of their sexuality. Dwayne the Rock Johnson does not compare to my power and I have gained my own democracy with athleticism, I now have a cult on my left deltoid because it emits so much godly power that others are bound to crumble. And that is why I made this banana bread recipe free of gluten, water, flour, banana, sugar, vanilla extract, milk, and chocolate chips.

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soft marble sculptures appreciation post. 

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Keep thinking about “I don’t think boomerang is coming back this time” and how Sokka realized he couldn’t save this kid they brought onto their team, how he wasn’t gonna be able to save Toph, wasn’t gonna be able to save himself, has no idea if Suki was still alright had no idea if zuko and his sister are alive has no clue where Aang is and he just was HIT with realizing “me and toph will die here and no one will know” like would he have let go? Would he let her fall rather than face the wrath of the firebenders? And then Suki shows up because she’s a badass but god for a moment they accept death and they’re k i d s

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he’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit

angsty bonus:

after a long and heartfelt hug he and Iroh had The Talk™ gay edition

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LIKE LOGIC'S NEW M A S T E R P E I C E

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A very curious octopus.

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That's what happened to the GSA at my school and there as a total of 10 people who would come, but I took over the GSA this year and 50 people come to meetings on average! So this just makes me feel really proud of myself, I didn't know this happened to other GSAs. To the person who submitted this, O V E R T H R O W T H E P R E S I D E N T

gen z culture is seeing your school start a GSA and all of your friends, including you, agreeing not to join despite the fact that you're all lgbt+ because the student who started it does unmentionable things and you all know and everybody refuses to acknowledge it

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Dennis Basso Pre-Fall 2017 Collection