Happy birthday to me!!! 🎂
Yeah. Hi. It's me.
Middle-aged Aziraphale fangirl did his next big step in the direction of the big 50.
Wahooooo!
Not really…
I hate my birthdays.
Always did.
Even as a child.
Now as this middle-aged queerish-dude I am still having a hard time, standing in the middle of things and being cheered on by others.
I was born. Great. Get along, people, nothing to see here. Can you all just go home please?
"Well, what the f*ck are you doing here then, right now, with this post, in the middle of an internet platform in front of a bunch of strangers?!?"
some of you might ask.
And rightly so, I must add.
Way more than 12 hours before - it is now past 10 pm in Germany - so this morning after I woke up to be exact, I had seriously contemplated the possibility to call in sick on my birthday, and hide myself from the world, quietly sobbing on my couch.
For the first time in my working life of 24 years. I had always been to work on my birthdays. No exception.
But the past months had been hard. I never really felt in control of things, still don't.
Those who know me closer, know that I like to be in control.
Always a plan at hand. Always prepared…
Only that it didn't really work out…hasn't for quite a long time.
I just never admitted it to myself. Always kept on going.
My family was always good in repressing things.
Don't show weakness.
Keep on functioning.
What will the others think?
People depend on you!
My family also never really considered me being "a success story" by their standards.
I am unmarried. Don't have children. No big career.
Ok, I've put enough on the side to live a financial solid life in a nice appartment.
But the first part really nagged at them, and through them at me.
So I was already unhappy for quite some time.
Together with an ongoing above-average and ever growing work-load at the office, this feeling of unhappiness turned slowly into dread and then deep sadness, until I felt close to breaking with the beginning of today.
Now, almost 15 hours later, I am here, writing this sappy stuff and am genuinely happy for the first time in months.
"What changed?"
Well, I was thinking about this a lot in the past hour. While sitting in the bus and later while walking home.
Honestly? Nothing really changed.
I got my eyes opened and my perspective adjusted by someone very dear to me.
That's what friends are for, and she is the best of them. My bestie.
She is the one who got me addicted to Good Omens last year and pushed me onto this hellsite.
She brought me Doctor Who and the Tardis (yeah, I know, shame on me, coming so late to the game…).
She makes me constantly re-think my opinions and keeps opening new windows to look through on things I had missed or never noticed before.
She is challenging me on a daily basis to be more than I normally would go for or did for many years.
She became the closest friend I have ever had in my life.
Sure, I know lots of people a lot longer in years. Some since Kindergarten.
But none of them digged themselves so deep into the darkest corners of my soul.
Places not even my brother or my parents ever got to see.
She made me, a life long rather shy introvert, open up, despite the fact that she is even more introverted than I have ever been.
I still don't fully understand all of it, but here I am, writing all this to an unknown audience, as proof.
A year ago, this wouldn't have been possible, not even in my wildest dreams.
"So, you didn't realize this before?"
I did. It just got pushed aside by all the negative spiralling. Sometimes you don't see, what's right in front of you.
After work, I walked her home. I like doing that. Sometimes talking all the way. Sometimes just walking in silence side by side.
At her place she handed me 2 presents and just like that, it clicked.
Sometimes, it doesn't take much, if it comes from the heart…
People, meet my new Michael Sheen mug!!!
So, we basically bonded over Good Omens and as faith would have it, we are exactly Aziraphale (me) and Crowley (her) coded.
100%.
It makes me beyond happy, knowing that everytime I'll sip my coffee with my beloved Sheeny, on the other end of town she will sip her hot cocoa out of her corresponding new David Tennant mug.
Good Omens was not the only thing we found out to have in common.
The common ground sometimes is really breathtaking and we still regularly stumble over new things it contains.
So many things that we equally love. Books, movies, music, long walks, just sitting there in silence and taking in a beautiful view…
On the other hand, we are so different in so many aspects, but with the feeling of it rather complementing than dividing us.
She loves to chrochet, I can't even hammer a nail strait into a sponge.
Speaking of which, meet my 2nd gift: Audrey!!!!!!!!!
We watched "Little shop of Horrors" (the 1986 version with Rick Moranis) a few weeks ago. Both for the first time. Loved it.
I immediately fell for "Audrey", the flesh-eating alien plant. Didn't speak anything out loud, still it didn't go unnoticed…and, yes, it is hand-made!!!
*sigh*
"So, what am I trying to say here?"
Good qestion…
Life can be cruel.
Life will be hard at times.
It will make you cry, like, a lot.
Try to not go through all this alone.
Sometimes those that you least expect it from, turn out to become your anchor in the stormy sea or the lighthouse showing you the way.
Build your own little family of friends (even if its just one).
Hold them tight, once you found them.
Love them with all that's in you.
You will get it back ten fold.
To quote the great Neil Gaiman:
Why?
L🥰ve!
@uncleadelheid-will-eat-your-soul , thanks for being all that for me, little introverted geeky metal edgelord office girl, and thanks for enduring my annoying love for bad jokes and even worse puns…
P.S.:
Sorry btw for the storm, lighthouse, anchor metaphors with you hating all that's related to the dark blue sea…I still didn't edit them out…maybe we'll be getting there. At least I left out fishy fish…
🐟🐠🐡🦈🌊🦑
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Miguel O'Hara x Reader Headcanons
Summary: How you and Miguel found yourselves in a situationship of sorts.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader
Warnings: Miguel gets angry when he's worried (it's a canon event guys). A very sultry kiss and implied smut towards the end. Me using far too many of the adjectives at my disposal just to describe this man and all the things he makes me feel.
I went and saw Across the Spiderverse TWICE in a week while it was in my hometown, and immediately started drafting fic for this goddamn gorgeous problem of a man 🔥 He just gave me too much to work with and I may or may not have spent entire months watching every single compilation I could find for "scientific inspiration". For my headcanon purposes, reader is a spider-hero as well, but I left her pretty vague on purpose -- feel free to fill in her costume/powers/skill set with your own spidersona :)
*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)
• He would say he had no idea when or how it started -- you, on the other hand, were taken by him from the first time he gave you his whole "canon" spiel.
• How could you not be? He towered above you, body chiseled like a Greek God, angular face equal parts weary and arrogant.
• And that voice -- rich and smooth as a silky black coffee -- it would be safe to say you were pretty smitten right away.
• To his surprise, you worked your way into his inner circle fairly quickly for a new recruit. Although you definitely had your own opinions, you knew when and how to push his boundaries and when he wasn't in the mood for it.
• Soon he trusted you to handle yourself with minimal supervision from him -- and maybe that trust was the beginnings of it for him. Because even though he recognized your competence, he still found himself continually assigning you to his personal strike squad, not to look after you, but because you somehow didn't annoy the hell out of him.
• Which comes in handy for everyone else after a while, because soon that translates over to you soothing the proverbial beast when he's biting the heads off of the more sensitive Spiders.
"How could you be so STUPID -- !"
"Okay, Miguel, I think they got the point."
"But they -- !"
"I know. They know. It's okay, let's all just take a breath."
"¡Ay coño! Nadie me oye. Todos son idiotas."
But he does back off, and does take a breath, and everyone else stares at you like you're the second coming of Christ.
• Your fascination and admiration for the intense head of the Society soon turns to a genuine enjoyment of his company. He's not much of a conversationalist, but you're okay with silence, and sometimes you just...end up keeping him company in the monitor tower after missions and he just...lets you.
• You soon notice the ungodly hours he keeps and start leaving him an empanada and a black coffee at the end of the day when you leave -- you know how dangerous he gets when hangry and undercaffeinated.
• It's a bit strange for him at first (someone is actually choosing his company over the bombastic personalities of the other spiders?) but Miguel soon gets used to you hanging around, and the hairs on the back of his neck finally stop bristling at having a fellow person in the room.
• One thing he absolutely can't figure out is why the scent of fear never radiates from you, even when you witness his occasional equipment-trashing tantrums. But he somehow doesn't quite mind that he can't intimidate you.
• He would strongly deny he ever gave you favorite treatment, but some of the others do realize he's not QUITE as hard on you when you challenge his decisions.
• Sometimes you check on him late at night before you go home; you can tell when he hasn't slept in a couple days by the way his shoulders hunch and how often he pinches the bridge of his nose against an oncoming headache (though sometimes that's just from dealing with Peter (x100) for too long).
• And that turns into you staying in late to keep him company while he swipes through screens upon screens of things that require his personal attention.
• That's how you end up finally seeing the videos of him and his little girl; he probably forgot you were there and her loss hit him all over again and before he knew it you had seen what he was like once, when the lines on his handsome face were from smiling so widely instead of losing sleep over the fate of all of reality.
• Neither of you really address it for a long time, but you know, and he knows you do, and there's this weird comfort that settles between the two of you after that.
• He already knows your story of course, and your canon events, but when the pair of you finally start talking during those late nights you share the little details, and you have the feeling that he wants to care about the small things, he just can't with the much larger picture he has to handle.
• It's little things that make it past his unbreakable outer walls -- the fleeting brush of your hand across his back as you pass behind him, the way you can hold eye contact with him longer than anyone else, the seemingly flippant way you blow him a kiss every so often when he sends you off to go make yourself useful elsewhere. Casual things, but he notices.
• And you want to tell him you're in love with him, but have a feeling he doesn't want to hear those words, because once they're out in the air, it means you both can't sidestep it anymore, so you don't.
• After a particularly rough mission, he's angry and you're shaken up, and he doesn't mean to react the way he does, but he takes it out on you, scolding you for what almost happened, and you fire right back because you're emotional, and the two of you end up raising your voices and everyone else just kind of...leaves the room.
• Then silence.
• You and Miguel are breathing hard, staring at each other. And something fragile takes root in the empty space between you.
• "Could you do me a favor and maybe not get yourself shocking killed?!" he growls at last, and there's a raw edge to it you haven't heard before.
• You laugh brokenly. "What do you really care, O'Hara? There's literally hundreds of Spiders here; I think you'd be okay."
• "¡Coño! How can you be so blind?!" He's snarling now, full lips pulled back and sharp teeth on display. "I thought we were on the same page for once."
• You're totally unprepared for when he grabs your shoulders and forces you to look up, right at him. "I can't lose someone else."
• He's so close, and his angry mouth has softened. And maybe you've lost your mind, but he's already angry, so what do you have to lose, really? At least that's what you tell yourself as you take the plunge and lean in.
• And to your surprise, he not only meets your lips, he kisses you back with matching fire, and what was supposed to be a simple, singular impulse turns into an unexpectedly heavy ongoing process -- fingers raking through hair, bodies pressing together, hotly whispering things neither of you remembers.
• And then as quickly as it happened, it's over, and you're on opposite sides of the room again like sulking cats, and he sends you home.
• You don't talk about the incident for weeks. Life goes on.
• But then one night, he offers to take you home when you both stay behind late, and at your door he apologizes for his lapse in professionalism, and you admit you...didn't mind. At all. He doesn't seem in a hurry to leave, and wanting to distract him from his work for at least a little while, you invite him in.
• And somehow what was supposed to be a sweet goodbye-and-thank-you kiss a couple hours later turned into exploring touches and murmured questions and agreements and how damn good his arms feel locked around your body; and when the sun filters in through your window in the morning he's long gone but your skin still smells like him and you realize that actually happened.
• You assume it's a one-time thing. People make mistakes, after all, no hard feelings.
• Bur when Miguel holds you back after a mission several days later and wants to make absolutely sure that the other night didn't make things uncomfortable between you, you go out on a limb and admit to him that you really enjoyed it.
• And he has to take some time and process that.
• But eventually he shows up at your place late one night again, and it starts to become a bit of a regular thing. So much so that you give him the spare key to your apartment and he starts to leave some of his clothes there sometimes. You love wearing his shirts, because they're enormous as hell on you, and you sleep in his clothes whenever you can't have his skin against yours.
• (For his part, he also likes when you wear his shirts, because then your throat, shoulders, and thighs are that much easier to get at.)
• And life goes on.
¡Ay coño! = (Expletive)
Nadie me oye = No one listens to/hears me
Todos son idiotas = They're all idiots
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