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bumpkinspice0 · 8 months

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Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: explicit (MINORS DNI!!!!!)

Word Count: 5285

Summary: There's a massive breach to Spider Tower, Miguel needs the help of the entire spiderverse to contain it.

Warnings: Previous traumatic accident (Wound and pain from such but nothing too descriptive), I don't know how healing works it's the future shut up, angst, pining, protective!Miguel SMUT! Sexy shower time, fingering, praise kink, kinda body worship, Miguel takes GOOD care of you, don't look at me

A/N: Sorry this took longer to update than usual, life really started lifin' there. Also I didn't know how to write the shift in relationship dynamic good so you'll gotta deal with that too. ENJOY

Previous. Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

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Chapter 10

Let Me Take Care of You

You drift lazily on the waves of consciousness for what felt like hours, your eye’s only forming blurry images as you attempt to force yourself to wake up. The smell is the first thing you notice. Fresh, clean linens and something else you recognize but can’t put your finger on. It wasn’t quite sterile , like a hospital, but not completely welcoming like a home either. When you finally burst fully from the veil of sleep, it’s a room you’ve never seen before. Smooth and sleek futuristic architecture like the tower. All accented in crisp white and grays, almost no color— but it’s not a hospital room like you suspected. You’d been to the infirmary in the tower a handful of times, and this wasn’t it

It takes all your effort to simply turn your head to the side, and there on the nightstand is your answer. A framed photograph of Miguel and Gabe. They look younger than you know them. Maybe ten years ago. This was his room.

You were in Miguel's house.

You take another deep breath, bringing the sheets to your nose and finally recognize his scent amongst the clean white linens— like rich red wine. The smell of Miguel.

Why on earth were you here? You move to roll out of the massive bed, but a sharp pain in your side stops you. And in your shoulder— and your head— pretty much all of you.

You look down at your hands for the first time and see several bandages scattered up your arms. You had a particularly big one you recognized on your hand— you’d had an IV in at some point. Your clunky multiverse watch had been replaced with a day pass. Your suit had been replace with a cotton tee and shorts.

Ever so slowly you come up to a seated position. The worst pain was coming from your right side. You lift your plain gray cotton shirt to reveal more bandages wrapped around your abdomen and several ugly purple bruises peeking out from beneath.

“What the hell happened?” you whisper to yourself.

“You got blown up,” a familiar cheeky voice informs you. Lyla materializes at the end of the bed. She’s not a small little hovering woman though. She’s a full-sized person. You never seen her appear larger than a soda can and now she looked like you could practically touch her. “Well, the nanotech took most of the blow. You’re lucky.”

“Nanotech? The suit?” You run your hand over your face, feeling a few other bandaids taped down. One on your eyebrow and another on the cheek. Was there any part of you that wasn’t hurt?

You squeeze your eye’s shut trying to recall anything. There was a fight— I big one. You were called into the tower. It was a blur but you know you made it out. You remember laughing with Jess and Gwen afterward. You’d won. You even found Miguel afterward and he told you to… ah, there it was. Some freak explosion from the rubble by his room. Wrong place at the wrong time. This was gonna be embarrassing to come back from.

Any normal person would be in shock right now. You hadn’t been a normal person for nearly a decade. If you had a dime for every near-death experience you’d had since starting this job, you’d be able to buy the entirety of New York City. This wasn’t your first time waking up bruised and battered and it certainly won’t be the last.

All in all, not the worst you’d been banged up on the job, but still not great it landed you bedridden for god knows how long. You felt sluggish and tired but knew if you didn’t try to move around at least a little, you’d regret it later. Get the blood pumping, that always helped.

You’d really been in this situation too many times.

You slowly move the edge of the bed again. Lyla glitches in front of you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?” She places her hands on her hips.

“To get some water. I’m thirsty,” You shakily stand and walk right through her pixelated form. Your legs might as well be jello but you make it work.

“This is a fully automated house!” She forms back in front of you when you're just at the door, “I’ll get you the water.”

“I’m a big girl, I can get my own drink,” You sigh and walk/ limp through her again.

“Oh! You just wanna snoop!” she accuses.

Ah, she got you. Yeah, you wanted to move a little, yes, but this was a rare opportunity you weren’t going to pass up. You were in his house. His house! Alone!

“And so what if I do?”

She raises her hands in defeat. “Hey, I’m not stopping ya then.”

You slide the foggy glass door out of the way and leave Miguel’s bedroom. You walk out onto a lofted balcony overlooking the rest of his home. It matched the bedroom with its sleek white glossy and gray tones— and it was massive. Twenty-foot ceilings, Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, overlooking the city. Wherever you were, you were very high up. A modest living room sat in the center with sleek charcoal furniture. The floors were a glossy deep black. The second-floor balcony lined the entirety of the living space, with several doors and hallways leading to other parts of the house along its path. You make your way across the second level and down the sleek glass stairs— gripping the railing for dear life.

“How long was I out?” You ask Lyla, noticing the weakness in your legs again.

“Three days,” She answers, glitching to the bottom of the stairs. “You were in the infirmary until the swelling went down then the big guy brought you here.”

“What swelling?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer.

“In your brain. Minor. Should be fine now with all the drugs and advanced healing,” She says so nonchalantly it almost puts you at ease— almost.

Sounds like you had a concussion. Awesome. That explains the pulsing headache that was on the rise and your less-than-stellar vision. Your advanced healing can only do so much. You have brain fog to look forward to for the next 2 weeks. Even more awesome, “Might wanna take a week off after this.”

You made it to the bottom floor, spotting the kitchen underneath the stairs. It was sleek and clean like the rest of the house.

“Me? Take a week off? Nah, I’m unstoppable.” You joke as you round the kitchen island with the speed of a tortoise. A cabinet automatically opens for you, revealing the glasses. You grab one and fill it up at the sink. You chug the liquid down in a very unladylike way, immediately refilling the glass. Damn, you were actually extremely thirsty.

“Miggy’s gonna force you to take a month off with the way he’s been hovering over you.”

Your cheeks instantly heat up at her casual statement. She takes notice, a smirk pulling at her pixelated mouth.

“Where is Miguel?” You ask sheepishly.

“Called into the tower,” she casually glances down at her nails, “Had to go do something only he could do , I don’t know. He’s been at your bedside every day and night. He’s gonna be pissed when he gets back to see you finally awake when he wasn’t here. In fact, you should get back to bed.”

“How long ‘til he’s back?” You ask, completely disregarding her suggestion.

“No idea,” She shrugs, her expression still smug. She was having fun seeing your schoolgirl crush. Lyla knew everything from the beginning. She knew all the rules of the agreement too. Miguel brought you to his home. You’d slept in his bed. You’d stayed in this dimension well past the 48-hour limit. He was breaking rules for you— Miguel didn’t break rules.

You take your water and head to the massive windows. There was a large balcony just beyond the apartment. Lyla, seemingly reading your mind, opened the door for you— well not exactly a door. A rectangle of glass dissipates right next to you, leading outside. Guess they don’t do doors the same way in 2099.

The air is fresher than you expected for a city balcony, you attribute it to being so high up. This view was easily head and shoulders above any of the surrounding buildings. It was cold and a little windy, but it felt nice on your arching, bedridden body.

The view was spectacular. You’d been to Nueva York dozens of times before, technically, but you spent all your time in spider tower. You’d caught glimpses of the city, of course, but you never really took the time to appreciate it.

New York in 2099. A futuristic version of your home. It looked nothing like your New York. Everything was so sleek and rounded— taller than your world's cities. There are a few things you can recognize from this height. The green of Central Park is still cut out in the center of the towering Skyscrapers. You’re in Manhattan, not far from the park. The rivers converging around the islands— okay maybe you only recognize a few things. The buildings and streets you know were likely engulfed amongst the behemoth futuristic towers that now make up this New York.

No, this wasn’t your New York. This was Nueva York, and it was incredible.

“Lyla,” You ask and she automatically blips to your side, “Where are we? Like, where is his apartment?”

“You’re still in the tower,” She confirms, “The penthouse suite.”

She confirms your suspicions. You may not have seen much of the city, but you were certain Spider Tower was one of the tallest buildings in it.

Miguel lived and worked here. You wonder if he ever left the grounds in anything other than a portal. Did he have friends? Did he like to go out to dinner? What silly little life did he live outside of being Spider-Man? You suspect he doesn’t have one. You want to ask Lyla but you feel like you’ve already invaded enough of his personal life simply by being here. Then again… he apparently brought you here.

“Why am I here, Lyla?”

She raises her eyebrows over lidded, unamused eyes, “Do you really need an advanced AI to tell you that, girl?”

You don’t, but you also don’t want to dwell on the deeper implications of this unholy shit show.

“What do you think of… this? Of us?”

“Try being a little less vague if you can.” The AI rolls her eyes.

“Fair enough.” you mull over your next words, “But just… why would Miguel bring me here? He’s broken almost every rule.”

“Ya know, it amazes me how dense you humans can be,” She leans against the railing next to you, “Before you came along, Gabe and I were his only close friends. Though, I’m not sure I count.”

“You count.” You inform her immediately.

“Well, thank you,” Some comical blush circles pop up on her face and disappear in an instant, “Miguel cares a lot, despite trying to make people think he’s made of stone. You’re the only other person that’s… been in his life this way. He looks out for his own. Something bad happened to you— and he got scared. And he took control like he always does. Humans aren't always rational. That’s something you all need to accept.”

For a programmed interface, she was a really good therapist. It was all things you already knew but just didn’t want to admit to. You were just human. Miguel cared. You both cared— and that made everything more complicated.

“Was he really with me the whole time?” You ask Lyla, suddenly feeling like a tween gushing over a crush again.

She peeks her eyes over her obnoxious heart-shaped glasses and rolls her head to the side, “Why don’t you ask him yourself.” and in a flash, she’s gone.

As soon as she vanishes, you feel the spider-sense ring in your head, and butterflies instantly rise in your stomach. You turn around to see Miguel standing at the door, still in his spider suit with an almost heartbreaking look on his face.

“What are you doing out here?” it takes him only four long strides to stand at your side, “Lyla shouldn’t have let you out of bed.”

“To Lyla’s credit, she did try,” You smile at him. He doesn’t smile back, worry painted over his features.

“Stubborn woman.” He reaches out to you but quickly pauses his movements as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. “Please, come back inside. It’s freezing out here.”

You nod and head back towards the door. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how slow and awkward your walking is. He slowly walks at your side the whole time, hovering a hand behind you as if you’ll fall at any second. You catch a glimpse of your full body in the reflection of the windows and you can see why he’s so cautious around you. You looked like a minefield of bandages and bruises. It was jarring to see all at once.

The door closes behind you with a sleek ring as the glass reforms in an instant. You’ll never get used to that.

Miguel’s in front of you again, ghosting his hands over your body, “I can’t believe you’re up and walking. How are you feeling? How’s your vision? They stopped the internal bleeding right away but there still might be—”

He shuts up when he meets your eyes. His were wide but still soft somehow. Caring in a way you hadn’t seen before— deep, lustful red eyes.

“Hi,” you simply say.

“Hi,” he responds with the faintest of smiles. You’d seen his face flash through a series of emotions since he saw you, but he seems to have finally settled on relief.

“I… Like your house.”

“Uh, Thanks,” He stands up straight again, scratching the back of his head, “Will you— I need to— Can you just sit in the living room for me?”

“Um, sure, yeah,” you make your way to the living room just in front of you, he hovers next to you the entire way. He helps you to a seated position on the couch. You swear he holds himself back from fluffing the pillows too.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect you to be–” He slowly sits down next to you, taking a deep breath. Shouldn’t you be the one freaking out? Today, apparently not, “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” You say with slightly forced cheerfulness, “I mean… good considering…” you look down at the bandages scattering your body.

His gaze drops away from yours, “Yeah.”

You weren’t lying. Sure, you were achy and groggy with some bad scrapes and bruises, but overall… not bad. You’d likely experienced a critical accident just days ago. Even with advanced healing, you shouldn’t be as chipper as you are.

“I mean… how am I feeling this good ?” You ask, simultaneously questioning yourself and Miguel. “Lyla said it’s only been 3 days.”

“Four days now.” Miguel’s eyes shoot back to yours, “Partially because of your suit. The nanotech acted as a shield for the most part, preventing any burns and such. You’re also in the twenty-second century with access to the multiverse. We can heal anything.”

That’s… a fair point. Well, future medicine fucking rocked.

He scoots closer to you, reaching out his hand toward your wrist. He pauses, waiting for your permission and you simply place your arm in his hand.

“For example. Here…” He gently runs his thumb along a faint silvery line on your forearm, “You had stitches. I removed them this morning. The rest of these,” He runs a thumb over one of your bandages, “Are cautionary until this evening.”

“That’s amazing,” You look down at your other arm with scattered marks and bandages. Just a matter of hours and you’d be back to normal—for the most part. Like nothing ever happened at all.

“Still,” Miguel’s gaze drops again, “I don’t change the fact that you shouldn’t have been—”

“Don’t,” You cut him off, already knowing where this is going. “Shit happens. Shit always just happens with this job. I’m a big girl, I’ve been through this before. If you turn my freak accident into self-loathing man pain I’m gonna fucking kick your ass, O’Hara.”

You don’t want to focus on the gravity of it all. You don’t want some protective speech, you don’t want assurances that everything will be okay when you know it will be. His actions have spoken louder than his words ever could. You just… want him to stop looking at you like that— Like you’re helpless.

He says nothing. Shock briefly pulls at his stern features until he settles into a smile. You smile back.

“You’re probably hungry.” He says.

Right on cue, your stomach growls like a beast and you’re suddenly fully aware of the aching hollowness inside you.

“Starving.”

____________

Thank god Thai food still tasted the same in the future. You made the request and Lyla had it delivered in less than thirty minutes. It was Miguel’s favorite place in the city, apparently. He had a favorite restaurant, just more proof to you that he wasn’t completely a workaholic robot. There was a regular human underneath that rugged persona, just like you’d always suspected.

You heartily enjoy a red curry and a few dumplings, Miguel has some noodle dish he sets aside for later.

As you finish your meal Miguel returns with a kit of medical supplies, graciously asking if he could check your progress. You agree, not turning away from your dinner for a second. He scans your body with a small tool you’d never seen before.

“Inflammation down 20 percent, vitals normal, advanced healing progressing as expected,” Lyla’s ambient voice announces, “She’s doing great, despite not listening.”

“I’m a rebel, what can I say,” you chuckle lightly. The scan finishes and several small projections hover around Miguel.

“Okay, yeah, this is all good. Really good,” He says, reading over the results. He’d changed out of his suit, opting for a loose pair of sweats and a shirt with a band you don’t recognize. Strangely enough, he looked more attractive in normal clothes than in a skintight suit. He was comfortable. He wasn’t Spider-Man or a leader he was just— Miguel. You liked just Miguel.

He rummages around back in the kit and pulls out a syringe with pale blue liquid.

Oh hell no.

“What’s that?” You ask with apprehension.

“Painkiller and something that’ll speed up your healing,” He scoots closer to you at the dinner table, “This is your last round of it.”

“I don’t think—”

He jabs it into your shoulder before you can properly protest. Despite the pain from the needle, you swear you can feel relief instantly once it’s injected.

“Ouch.” You grumble, taking the last bite of your rich curry.

“Oh, do you need a lollipop?” he tuts, packing away the kit— infuriating man.

“No, but maybe something else to suck on,” You joke. His cheeks flush in an instant. Victory. “Actually what I’d like most is a shower,” you admit.

After four days of stewing motionless in a bed, you can practically smell yourself— which means Miguel could definitely smell you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re still a fainting risk and I don’t want to leave you—”

“Okay, then come with me.” You counter instantly. His protective nature is not going to keep you from a hot shower. And well… It felt nice to have him close.

He pauses, raising his eyebrows at you. His cheeks are still faintly red, “I mean, I guess I—”

“Great,” You stand and make your way to the stairs, “Let’s go.”

You pause at the foot of the stairs, remembering what a slow challenge they were earlier. Sure, you were feeling better than earlier— you’d had a meal and whatever was in that needle was fucking magic— but your legs still felt like compacted jelly.

Before you can take the first step you feel Miguel behind you, his hands caressing down the back of your legs and up your back. He gently scoops you into his arms with ease and strides up the steps without missing a beat. Your spider-sense sighs in gratitude.

“Sure. Let’s go.” He grins, glancing down at you.

He walks you both back through his bedroom and into the master bath. A sleek glossy room that matched the rest of the penthouse, every inch of it covered in black marble. The massive shower was on your left and the counter with a ceiling-height mirror was to your right. He seats you on the counter next to the sink. The rainfall shower starts up behind him.

“Okay, let’s get these off you,” he says as he kneels down and gently pulls off one of the bandages from your leg. The flesh underneath is practically healed. You start to remove the ones from your arms, grazing your fingers over the already faint pink marks underneath them. Some were faint scabs and cuts, others were almost entirely healed over. Just four days and this is what was left.

He stands, finished with your legs. He grabs the hem of your shirt and gingerly pulls it off of you. All that remained was the bandages wrapping your abdomen. He slowly starts to unroll them. You wince slightly. He pauses but you nod for him to continue. This was the worst area. The bruises you saw peaking out earlier were already fading away from their previous deep purple. A faint wound still remained on your left side, red tendrils from it reaching over your stomach. You notice small pricks lining the larger portions of the wound. You’d had stitches here too— and now it looked like it’d been healing for weeks.

You shake your head, not wanting to stare at the damage any longer. Later. You’d think about it all later. You had a beautiful man and a shower that were calling your name.

You slide off the counter and pull at the hem of Miguel's shirt. He leans down and you pull it off his body, revealing that gorgeous toned torso. He runs his fingers along the elastic of your shorts and shimmies them off your hips. You do the same with his sweats. A silent ballet you both were deeply familiar with at this point. He cradles your hands as he guides you both backward into the waiting shower.

The steaming water feels like heaven as soon as it hits your body, the rainfall drenching you both in an instant. Your sore limbs instantly feel relief. Your buzzing mind was put at ease. All the anxieties of the day melted away and spiraled down the drain.

You pause there, just letting the sensation consume you. Time slows down and the crackling sound of water hitting stone fades away. You feel like you can properly think for the first time since you woke up hours ago— and it all hits you at once.

You fought. You almost died— and Miguel saved you. If he wasn’t right there when it happened, who knows what would have happened to you. You wouldn’t be here in his house, that’s for sure. He’d stayed by your side, he exhausted every resource to heal you. And he was still by your side right now.

He looks out for his own. Something bad happened to you— and he got scared.

Lyla’s words from earlier echo in your head. He was scared to lose you. You were scared to ever lose him. Not just as a fellow spider but as… something more maybe. You’d felt the feelings pulling at you when you hunted him down in the multiverse those weeks ago. Terrified you’d find him injured or even dead. It was more than a spider-sense. More than this forced proximity you’d both had… well, it wasn’t so forced anymore, was it.

You feel your weakened legs start to wobble and Miguel's hands are instantly on you, pulling you close to him.

“Easy, arañita,” he coos ever so softly.

You look up at him, watching the water cascade over his stern face. His fluffy hair was now drenched down over his forehead. Those crimson eyes filled with concern.

You sigh and rest your head on his chest. “Thank you… for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” He runs a hand over your head and down your back. “Consider us even for saving me… if that helps.”

And there it is, the Miguel you knew. Trying to step away from the gravity of the situation. From feelings becoming too real. This was all supposed to be temporary after all, maybe you should take a page from his book.

Still, you were both here in each other's arms— and that meant something.

“ Déjame cuidarte .” He says just above a whisper.

Miguel trails his hands down your arms, his touch somehow hotter than the water. You close your eyes at the combined sensation. You feel him reach overhead, grabbing something. His hands come back to you, now trailing through your hair. You feel a foamy lather as he does so and the faint smell of flowers hits your nose.

Miguel was washing your hair.

His fingers move slowly and with purpose as they crawl along your scalp. This wasn’t about getting you clean, this was about making you feel good. He was trying to comfort you. To make you forget about… well, everything.

You melt into him, trailing your hands along his stomach. One of his hands trails down your back while the other works the shampoo through your hair. He holds you close. He takes care of you.

He leans your head to the side, the soap rinsing from your hair. He walks you both further into the stream of water and turns you around. Your back is flush with his torso as his hands ever so gently trail over your healing body.

You feel suds foaming from his touch. When had he grabbed that soap? You decide you don’t really care.

He leans down, lips caressing your temples. “Do you feel good, little spider?”

“Yes,” You sigh.

“Do you want to feel better?” you feel one of his hands trail down your stomach and gently ghost over your waiting cunt. A pulse of arousal surges through your whole body.

“Please,” You moan, pulling his head further down. You lean back and pull him into a kiss. His fingers plunge down and run through your folds. You gasp for air at the sensation.

His fingers come up and circle lazily around your clit, already wet and wanting for his touch. He holds you. He plays with you.

Something’s missing this time. Something that was always there when you were both in the most intimate of positions— The spider-sense. You felt its presents, as you always did with Miguel, but you didn’t feel its pull. It’s seemingly innate nature to make you and Miguel go at each other like animals.

He wasn’t doing any of this because he felt like he had to, he was doing this because wanted to. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to see you squirm and come undone by his hands.

Later— Think about it later. Just enjoy this. Enjoy him.

He slowly pushes his middle finger inside you. You grind yourself into his palm as he slowly works in and out of you. His free hand comes up to cradle your breasts. He backs you both into the closest wall, the water still cascading over you. His knee comes up between your legs, spreading you wider.

“I’ve got you, arañita. Te tengo, está bien .” He moans against you. You're completely leaning against him as he holds you close. As he works you faster.

You see a glimpse of the both of you in the mirror past the quickly fogging glass— it’s absolutely filthy and you love it. His massive hulking form curled around you wantonly. Your serine, blissed-out face. You adored this man.

“I want you,” You moan, “W-want more.”

“No,” He says just a little too quickly, “Not yet.”

“Please.” You beg breathlessly.

“Not yet, sweet girl,” He sighs, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Finish healing. Get better for me, then you can have whatever you want.”

You don’t entirely dislike the sound of that. You're suddenly aware of your aching body again after being so caught up in the moment. With how fast you were healing it wouldn’t be long at all.

“P-promise?” you barely gasp out.

“I promise.” He curls his finger inside you, grinding his palm against your clit. You gasp, arching further into his touch. “Good girl.”

He was playing you like a fiddle. Familiar with every part of you like the back of his hand. He holds you there against him for what felt like hours, slowly working you. Letting the pressure build and fade as he saw fit— making you feel good.

You eventually come with a shaky sigh, your mind completely melting away. He holds you up, letting the warm water wash over you a few minutes more. You were spent, you were tired. The shower stops. Miguel wraps you in a towel and carries you to the bed.

He sets you on the mattress and gently runs the towel over your body. He cradles your leg, kissing down the length of it as the towel wicks away the beads of moisture. He does the same with your other leg and your arms. He takes his time, giving attention to every part of you. You watch him as he does so, feeling your heart race faster with every gentle touch.

He said he would take care of you. He said he wanted you to feel good.

When he finishes you hold each other's gaze for a moment. Both still completely naked, you now dry and him still sopping wet. It was a little ridiculous, but you’d never felt more comfortable around someone in your life than with this lumbering man kneeling at your feet.

He stands eventually, running the now useless towel over his damp hair. “I should—”

“Stay,” you reach out to him, grabbing his wrist. “Stay with me tonight. Please.”

He pauses, looking down at you. You can’t help but feel so small and meek under his gaze. He’d just unspokenly catered to your every need and now you were begging him to sleep with you. Pathetic, maybe, but you don’t fucking care. You just didn’t want him to leave— and you don’t think he does either.

He closes his eyes with a small smile, “Alright. One moment, please.”

He disappears back into the bathroom to grab a fresh towel and comes back out dry with a pair of black briefs on. You curl under the crisp white covers as he rounds the other side of his massive bed. The lights dim as he crawls in next to you. You roll onto your side and he pulls you into him. You feel his steady breathing against your back and it sends a wave of comfort over the normally buzzing spider-sense. He was so close. You were in his bed— with him.

“Miguel—”

“Shhhh,” he hums, resting his chin just above your head, “Duerme querida.”

You close your mouth, opting just to enjoy the rare moment with him. The feel of his body completely engulfing yours. His thumb tenderly rubbing comforting circles against your stomach. His alluring, amazing scent. Everything— just everything about him right now. You commit it to memory and lock it away.

You were in deep shit.

__________

Déjame cuidarte: Let me take care of you Te tengo, está bien: I’ve got you, it’s okay. Duerme, querida: Sleep, my dear.

And of course, do correct me if any of this is wrong!

I could think of literally no other way to get our Arañita in his house other than some dramatic near death experience, okay

_________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #parallels fic

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bread--quest · 1 year

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14 secret love languages the government doesn't want you to know about

i. do you ever think about the voyager records? these little things, floating through space, our message in a bottle from our island in the void? there's no guarantee that anyone will ever hear it, or that they'll even understand if they do, but have i ever told you what we said?

ii. Greetings to you, whoever you are. We are thinking about you all. How are all you people of other planets? Have you eaten yet? Welcome home.

iii. i brought you food. i would like you to eat. i made you food. i want you to live. i am sharing this food with you. i am sharing my life with you.

iv. the word for care in latin is the same as that for worry, anxiety. it is both an adjective and a noun.

v. i love you in checkboxes and data and organizations. i am compiling, i am sorting, i am putting my love into boxes and shapes and panels that make sense. this is what i understand, this is what i can do: i am building a shrine of spreadsheets and slides to you.

vi. maybe if we were somewhat less alike, this could work. maybe if i loved myself more, i would hate you less.

vii. VIOLENCE! VIOLENCE! BITING YOU AND KICKING YOU AND DRAGGING YOU DOWN! GET ON MY LEVEL, MOTHERFUCKER! GET DOWN HERE SO I CAN MAKE YOU FEEL WHAT I FEEL! I WILL DRAG YOU TO HELL SO I WILL NOT BE ALONE! RECIPROCATE ME IN PAIN! I WANT TO SEE YOUR BLOOD!

viii. it is one thing to talk with someone, quite another to be comfortable enough to sit in silence with them. just to exist in the same place and feel no pressure to speak, to know that your mutual presence is enough

ix. when i say you are mine i mean my hometown, less possession more belonging

x. the worst part about being awake is when nobody else is, when it's just you and the darkness and you feel like the only person on earth. the best thing about cities is the glowing squares outside your window, a thousand others unsleeping, their lights spelling out in morse code you are not alone

xi. i love you in the way the moon loves the earth: forever stuck in your orbit, knowing that touching you would mean obliteration

xii. i love you in the way the sun loves the earth: as easily as breathing, and with as little thought

xiii. i love you in the way the earth loves the stars: calling out endlessly to pinpricks of hope. please tell me aliens are real, and they can understand, and they love us too.

xiv. Please come here to visit when you have time. We wish that we will meet you someday. Please contact. We are thinking about you always. Please.

Contact.

#sonder scribbles #poems #i . keep forgetting my poems tag #and i dont think i have a 'my poems' tag #anyway. as you can probably tell this was supposed to be a valentines day poem #but it took me a little while to get it to a good enough state that i wanted to post it #hope you enjoy!!!#wow look something original!!

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eroseas · 1 year

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gimme a lil angsty drabble of reader and ellie being exes who still love each other and miss each other but know that they’re not good for each other right now (hint hint maybe things will be different in the future)

firstly, im very sorry for the late reply! ive been a bit busy. hopefully you enjoy this tho cause it definitely made me feel shit. in a good way tho. also, i saw a tiktok of that doctor strange scene where christine and strange were talkin and christine says "there are other things that can give your life meaning" and strange goes "like what? like you?"

....yea so anyway. heres this for you, my dove.

cw; idk angst? ellie is kind of a meanie but its fine.

word count; 1.6k

an; i say that ellie sings a song that obviously she did not write. don't take it personal. if u see errors no u dont

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“There are other things that can give your life meaning,” you had pleaded, exasperated, exhausted.

Ellie was unimpressed; had scoffed all mean and bitter and utterly defeated. You remember it like it was yesterday. The way her lips had pulled back into a sneer, like she couldn’t stand the thought of anything else, anyone else, being important to her. Like the thought of holding you on a pedestal made her sick.

The fact of the matter had been that Joel had slipped into a coma six months prior to your fight, and he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. The doctors were doing anything and everything, Ellie had been traveling all over the world to find answers, and you– You had gone with her. You did everything you possibly could. You loaned money to her, didn’t bat an eye when she sold things you had gotten her for the extra cash, you didn’t flinch when she became distant. You stayed. You were loyal. You knew deep down she loved you, and that this was just something she had to do for Joel’s sake. You could understand that, you’d even excused any questionable thing she said or did. And yet.

She hadn’t missed a beat. Arguing wasn’t new at this point. You’d get into it every other day. There was only so much you could take; the constant bickering, the snide remarks under her breath. You could take it, for the most part.

And yet.

“Like what?” She snapped, her face permanently etched into a scowl, “Like you?”

It had rendered you speechless. A devastation that rocked you internally. It was the worst thing she had ever said. Four little words, and that’s all it took.

You had shut down. You both knew that this was it. That the relationship wouldn’t survive after that outburst, that it just wouldn’t be the same. You didn’t leave, though. You kept staying over to cook her dinner, and you’d clean the house while she traveled. For two months, neither of you said a word to each other that wasn’t hello, goodbye, thanks, or you’re welcome.

And just as those two months were up, Joel finally woke up.

Even so, you had left. Once you got the news, you had given her a hug and kiss. You visited Joel at the hospital, gave him a nice bouquet in a boot-shaped vase, and smiled as Ellie played the guitar for him.

You were gone the following morning. Not much else to it.

You couldn’t leave your apartment for three months. You couldn’t stomach throwing away the pictures of you two, couldn’t even get rid of the guitar picks she left at your apartment. The ghost of Ellie lived there still, and it was all you had left. Therapy, and time, and lots of patience helped. You started going out again, started hanging around Dina and Jesse, and four months after the break-up, you packed up all of Ellie’s stuff and shoved it under your bed. She was important to you still, and you’d never deny that. But out of sight, out of mind, right?

Two years had gone by, and here you were. Junior year of university had just begun, and you, Jesse, Dina, and Ellie all had a class together.

You huff out a breath, and adjust the strap to your bag. You haven’t seen Ellie in months. You ran into her by chance at the cafe down the street from your apartment, where you both always went to for breakfast. She had smiled at you, and nodded her head, and after that, poof. Gone again.

You shift on your feet, waiting for an appropriate time to walk into the class. You’d gotten there early, hoping to grab a good seat. Once you deemed the time appropriate, you snuck into the class and looked for a table. You faltered in your step, recognizing the silhouette of the person sitting alone at a table towards the back of the room. Ellie. You nibble at your lip, a sick little habit that you could never give up, and weigh your options. Sit by yourself because Jesse and Dina will want to sit with Ellie, or suck it up and sit with her alone for a few minutes. You sigh quietly.

“Fuck.” You mutter, ducking your head. Your feet start to move before you have the chance to change your mind, and you eye the earbuds sticking out of Ellie’s pierced ears once you get to where she is. You reach over hesitantly to tap her shoulder, suddenly hit with the thought that you used to just jump on her shoulders anytime you wanted. How things change.

She looks up at you before you can think about it too hard. Her eyes widen in surprise and she flounders for a bit, her lips parting open but no words escaping.

“Mind if I sit?” You ask, putting her out of the misery of finding something to say. She blinks, and nods quickly, grabbing her bag out of the seat next to her.

“Yeah, fuck, sorry–” She mumbles, clearing out her little mess on the table. You eye her notebook, catching the sight of what looks like a song. You slip yourself into the seat, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. She quickly shoves her tattooed arm in front of her notebook, hiding it from your gaze. You look away, and start grabbing your notebook from your bag.

The air is thick, even though the room is so fucking big. You can vaguely hear the music coming from her earbuds, and you try not to look at her.

She looks the same, though. A little more grown, a little less tired. Like the dread has finally let her go. The calmness suits her. You remember her being tense and guarded from when you two were together; how nothing could calm her down. This Ellie, though, she looks like she fuckin’ sunbathes and does yoga. The thought makes you snort, and you duck your head quickly, embarrassed. Ellie looks over at you, a small grin on her lips, and when you meet her gaze, you realize it looks a little sad. You ignore it.

“It’s–” She coughs softly to clear her throat, wincing at her awkwardness, “It’s good to see you.”

You mess with the pen in your hand, looking over her features. The freckles you used to kiss every night, and the lips that used to kiss the beauty mark on your neck, and the stupid little slit in her eyebrow that you know the story to but you swore you would never tell. You smile, trying to be polite, but it falls quickly.

“Yeah, you too,” you nod, opening your notebook to try to look busy. The class starts filling with bodies, thankfully, and if Dina gives you a worried glance when she sits in front of you, you pretend not to notice.

Growth is hard. It takes time, and effort, and it’s a push and pull every single day. Being around Ellie more has allowed you to experience this growth full force. You moved on after two years, sure, but now it's being put to the test. It’s hard to be around her, to treat her like she’s only a little bit more than a stranger when she used to be everything. It gets easier as time goes by, but then Dina just had to barge into your apartment, yelling like a crazy woman.

You jump out of bed, rushing to the living room where she holds her phone out like a bomb. You breathe heavily, looking over her face and figure to make sure she’s not hurt. She looks back at you with wide eyes and a shit-eating grin, in perfect condition.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You exclaim, and she steps closer, shoving her phone towards you. You squint at it questionably, gesturing to it.

“The fuck is that?” You ask, your voice still on the verge of a yell, and she squeals suddenly.

“This is a fucking Spotify account. More importantly, it’s Ellie’s fucking Spoitfy account where she posts songs that are about you!”

The statement makes you freeze. At first, the words don’t register in your brain. When they do, you scoff. Dina raises an eyebrow at you, silently asking you to try her life so she can prove it to you. You cross your arms over your chest, and glare at the phone.

“Songs?” You ask, to which Dina nods. “Like, plural?”

She groans in annoyance, connecting her phone to the bluetooth speaker. She scrolls, then clicks on a song. You peer over at her phone and notice it’s titled my kind of woman. It makes you lose your breath, hearing her voice and knowing the face she pulls when she sings a certain word. You bite the tip of your nail, and try to take deep, calming breaths.

You and Dina sit there for what seems like hours, listening to every song in her discography. There’s not much, but the songs about you tell you everything you need to know at the moment. It brings back a feeling that you had when you two first started seeing each other. That giddy little fluttering in your tummy, the hope that you snuffed out years ago.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you pull it out, you eye the message on the screen.

ellie

3:46pm

hey. would you mind meeting me for some coffee? i was hoping we could talk.

When Dina catches a glimpse of the dreamy look on your face, she asks what's up. You’re too content to not tell her, and yet–

“I’ll tell you after.” You smile.

#ೃ⁀➷; eroseas writes #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams

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awoken-artist · 5 months

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Important Update!: Hard drive issue

So I have announced this early on my discord server community I have about this situation. So not long ago about a few weeks ago my hard drive decided up and then to refuse to open again and give me a notification it has "malfunctioned".

I panicked when I couldnt get into my hard drive at all and lead me to have a mental breakdown. Heres a reason WHY though is because of the fact all of my artworks, vods ive saved ever since i started streaming for the first time on twitch as my first time vtubing, even videos ive created for years and film projects to look over, sounds and music ive saved even from places i probably cannot get back anymore, gifts from lovely people and friends even art trades and commissions ive also saved as well.

a fuuuuuck ton of art ive saved from YEARS of drawing are on there along with photography works even personal photos and videos.

so yeah i panicked like shit because my whole life work is in that damn thing.

My mom and dad manage to find a program to pay to get everything as much as we could to be able to move stuff over. we bought a new hard drive and its currently being used to copy stuff over. and me going through to make sure the amount of files on the hard drive to the new one match and if it doesnt we can focus on the single files that focus's on it to move over.

and this takes...DAYS. weeks even at worst. So this is a tedious as fuck of a long wait for to get EVERYTHING out of there. or at least everything that were ABLE to get out of there.

I do want to get my new hard drive unplugged temporarily and move my 2023 stuff over cause- fuck i need that file in my hands and plug it back into the other computer to continue making the copies. but god this is just horrendous....

it made me very sad this happened and it pisses me off as well. hopefully i can get everything back like nothing actually is missing and what not. so for those waiting on Art trades and commissions I beg to be patient. i know I have sketches down and saved towards DMS to the people and so that i can easily trace over that wip previews and go for it which i will. everyone else i have to start over which i hate doing but i also dont want to keep everyone waiting :/

I know once ATs and coms are done i will only open commissions for friends only. YCH's i'll probably open when able to cause I Have some planned to open on Vgen and Ko-fi.

I'll update you guys about it soon. if you guys wish to get quick updates from me your welcome to join my little server, just send me a dm of a rainbow emoji. :P or come by to my streams I have a bot that you can do !discord into and you can come right in. do know you have to fill out a form. I dont allow children in my server and if i find out people are lying about their age you get banned. so dont even fricken try. =_= i am just very uncomfortable around kids and rather keep my server for adults only. thank you.

hope everyones having a good monday! I will probs do a stream later today so if you guys are following me on twitch and vstream you'll get notified about it. [hopefully you guys get notified tbh-] ^u^)/

click to go to Twitch | click here to go to my Vstream

I'll also try to stream on YouTube as well. it be much appreciated if you can give my youtube some loves as well. Im trying hard to grow so any help be great. ;w;

Click to go to my Youtube Channel

#blog #update

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whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon · 2 years

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(*cracks knuckles.* I found my balls.)

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio/Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

You'd dreamt of stars as long as you could remember.

They glinted in the night sky, tiny points of cold, distant light, but when you dreamed you saw sundered galaxies churning, crashing like water over burning rifts of blackness, awash with radiant gas.

And you'd dreamt of war as long as you could grasp the concept.

You heard the stories from of the front lines, carried by word of mouth riding cargo ships, but when you slept, you saw the armies like hordes of insects, the spray of oceans of blood, as fire swept across the battlefields of distant planets and silenced them all.

You never spoke of it. Who would understand if you did? At best, you'd be branded a madwoman, at worst a heretic. So you kept your mouth shut, rose each day, met your daily quotas, and returned home when your work was done. The people of your hometown already thought you distant and strange, and a worse fate awaited you should they understand.

Absen IV had been an Agri-World before its seasonal storms made it more suitable for a layover port, and even then a distant one, frequented only by smugglers, explorers, and rogue traders. They never stayed for long, and Absen remained largely forgotten.

The Astra Millitarum recruited, both volunteers and by draft, from the planet. You lost two brothers to the meat grinder. They had graves in the backyard of your family home, though no bodies had been returned. You'd been told there was nothing left. It killed your father too, you'd suspected. The grief rolled off him, shed grey and noxious malaise, and it had stormed for weeks like the town had never seen.

Father understood. When you woke in the night, saw terror unfit for man, he held you gently. Explained that they weren't nightmares, that you couldn't speak of what you saw. Psyker children, those who could touch the Other, the Warp, were taken away and never returned, and it was better that no one knew. If he passed unoticed all these years, so could you.

It became harder, as you grew, to hide the latent effects of your connection to the Warp. When angered, lightbulbs around you erupted, rain poured from the sky when you wept, and more than once you'd caused destructive little pulsewaves in the field behind your home. You learned to school your emotions. Isolated yourself in the wake of Father's death, and prayed to the God Emperor you'd die unnoticed.

You did not go unnoticed.

The townsfolk noticed nothing, besides an unremarkable, lonely girl with a dead family, and you were one of many of those.

But something else did.

You were eleven, when you became aware of the Presence. It didn't exist physically, but most things didn't. Wary of Warp creatures, you attempted not to acknowledge it. And it simply watched. Attached itself to you like a shadow, until it grew a nature. It wasn't horrid, unnatural, wicked, like Father had warned you. It was warm, gentle, protective.

You accepted it, eventually. Your lone companion most days, in the now permanent absence of your brothers.

You brushed against it, psychically, and asked it if it had ever lost someone.

Loss like you couldn't fathom.

You were fifteen when it, he, spoke for the first time.

+You are extraordinary.+

What?

+Extraordinary.+

So you do speak.

+I do. Though I have not been able to, I've now gained the strength. I must thank you for that.+

You're welcome.

+Why do you remain here?+

This planet is my home.

+This is planet is beneath you. Surely you understand the kind of power you wield.+

Pfft. The power to have terrible nightmares, or the power to cause bad weather? I don't want it. It's a family curse, as far as I'm concerned. I want the Back Ships as far from me as they can get. Parasites. God-Emperor take them all to Hell.

+You would speak so poorly of the Emperor's servants?+

I'm no Sister, Warp-Thing. Considering your nature I figured we could keep this heresy between us.

The Presence laughed. His laugh was beautiful, like his voice. Deep, rich, warm and ambery. It could command, you had no doubt, but when you heard it echo in your mind, it was tender.

Your Father died when you were sixteen. You took all the tenderness he would give.

Your friendship continued to grow. An odd pair you made, but you were grateful for his company, and his knowledge. Father could teach you to ignore, and Father could teach you fear, but The Presence taught you so much more.

You became stronger, gained control over your power. You learned of the distant galaxy, gained context for your visions. They ranged not only the present, but the past.

I'm seeing the past?

+Yes. That was an ancient battle. It's impression lives forever in the Warp, which is why you may see it.+

When was it?

+The Heresy.+

I've seen the Heresy before. Once.

+Oh?+

I saw the Emperor fall. I thought that one must have been a dream, but now I think it may have been a memory.

+Show me.+

You rolled back your mind, reliving the vision. Horus, the Arch-Traitor, and the Emperor, glad in gleaming gold.

+A memory, little one.+

You felt emotion from him, a potent mix of grief and rage. The Warp was strange.

Why would I see this?

+Think of it no more. This darkness will consume you.+

You started to object, but felt an unvoiced, gentle, yet stern reprimand, and obeyed.

The Presence grew stronger. You could sense what once was a breeze in the Warp become a wind, then a storm. He wasn't feeding on you, but you often wondered what, exactly, you had befriended.

He evaded the question, always.

Are you a ghost?

+Define ghost.+

Are you a dead person?

+Yes and no. Define death.+

Ugh. You're frustrating.

+And you are adorably persistent.+

Tell me something! Anything, about yourself.

+I am your protector, teacher and friend. Do you need to know more?+

I'd like to.

He was silent, and you worried you'd angered him.

+Call me Neoth.+

The years rolled by, and you bloomed into young adulthood. You remained an outcast, but resented it less for the companion you had. You knew so much now, not only of the Warp but of history, worlds beyond your own. With Neoth, you journeyed to other planets, to Holy Terra itself, the cradle of your species, as it was in ancient times. You learned languages and science, and eagerly absorbed all he could teach you. He had become familiar to you like family. His strength had increased, and you now felt phantom hands on your arms and shoulders, guiding you as you practiced control and meditation. His hand in yours, as you flew through time and space, an embrace as you floated, free as birds, in the abyss.

Your life was strange. Heretical, you were sure. But it was peaceful.

Then the Emperor returned.

The news rang like a great bell across the Imperium of Man. Your God was awake, and as it had with the return of Guilliman years before, the great beast that was your species began to stir.

You knew before anyone else. You felt it one night, the burst of brilliant light whole star systems away, like it happened in your own chest. Power like nothing you'd known congealed together, and erupted. The Warp began to shake, and millions of voices began to scream.

Neoth!?

It took him a whole week to answer, he sounded tired.

+I'm here, khoshgelam, do not be afraid.+

What's happening?

+A great many things.+

They're saying we're in danger. I feel it. My planet is exposed, with everything going on. The Eye of Terror is stirring, spitting out Chaos. They're bearing down, and none of these people know how close they are. We're too close to the eye to be helped. It's luck we haven't already been attacked, and I've been blind to the danger.

+You will be alright.+

Not if the fleet in the Deprecor system falls.

+It already has.+

What?

+Do not be afraid.+

They'll be on us within days!

+Pack.+

I'm sorry?

+If there is anything precious to you, pack it. Prepare to leave. You will not be returning. I'm coming for you.+

There was a ghostly brush of lips against your own. Then he was gone.

(heehoo I have worms in my brain and Emperor x Reader has BEGUN)

-Long Anon

#warhammer 40k #wh40crack.#emperor of mankind #you have blessed us as always!

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askglassanon · 8 months

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Incorrect Quotes: Glass Addition

Spare Keys (derogatory)

Glass, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Firestorm: Hey. Comet: Hello. Prism: Hi! Glass: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Serum: We were out of Doritos.

— (Can't think of a funny title)

Glass: Can I be frank with you guys? Firestorm: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help. Serum: Can I still be Serum? Comet: Shh, let Frank speak.

— Glass if she was mortal

Glass: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis. Bee: You're like 15 years old Glass: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

— Why is this so accurate?

Glass: Bee... Bee: Oh no, 'Bee' in b-flat. Bee: You're disappointed.

— This is low-key interchangeable

Glass, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Bee: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

—

FFR!Glass: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back. Comet: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

— Modern nobody dies AU

Glass, at a restaurant: You guys should get the orange soda, it's amazing. Serum: Okay Waiter: Can I get you guys anything to drink? Glass: Orange soda, please! Serum: I'll have the strawberry soda. Firestorm: Me too, strawberry soda. Glass:

— MND AU Follow up (Oddly in character)

Glass, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Serum: You did WHAT– Firestorm: William Snakepeare

— MND part 3

Glass: I trust Serum. Firestorm: You think they know what they're doing? Glass: I wouldn't go that far.

— Imagine if Glass was ever this bold (Fun fact this Quote was in the Unshipping category)

Glass: I just wanna be called cute 21/7. Firefly: Why no 24/7? Glass: Snack breaks.

— Hehe >:3

Firefly: *holds a gun out to Glass* Glass: I-I don't believe in guns. Firefly: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

—

Bee: Why do you hang out with me? Glass: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Bee: … Bee: I feel a bit sorry for you.

— If Serum had a childhood

Serum: *watching their house burn down* Serum: Serum: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

— Four am (original prompt mentioned bread but I don't think Serum would like bread)

Pyrite : *Turns on the kitchen light* Serum: *Sitting at the table, eating sardines from the can* Pyrite : It’s four in the morning. Serum: Turn the light back off.

— Donnie would teach Serum to be a little menace

Serum: DID YOU REALLY THINK THAT JOKE WAS FUNNY? IT WASNT. NOBODY IS LAUGHING. Serum: *pulls up a graph* THIS IS WHEN YOU TOLD YOUR JOKE, YOU HAVE SINGLE HANDEDLY RUINED COMEDY! IVE ALSO ASKED MANY COMEDY SCHOLARS ON THEIR OPINION OF YOUR JOKE AND THIS IS WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY! Pyrite : I've been researching comedy for the past 20 years, and I have genuinely never seen a joke this bad. We have used quantum physics to look into alternate universes to see every joke made, and yours was still by far the worst. Serum: CONGRATULATIONS! YOUVE SINGLE HANDEDLY CREATED THE WORST JOKE IN HUMAN HISTORY! HERES A MEDAL! *pulls up a horrible ms paint drawn star that says "you need help*

— Oh my gosh the Celestial AU!?

Celestial!Glass: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. Celestial!Raph: Three words. Celestial!Glass: ♡

— Seems about right

Glass: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Glowbug: It’s not a joke. Glowbug: *sniffles* Glowbug: I’m a legit snack

— Serum wouldn't break and enter casually with zero hesitation

Pyrite : Serum, I am nothing if not a man of principle. Pyrite : Now let’s break into this apartment.

— .. Yeah. Given Potion's genuine and general lack of concern for potions safety this is accurate

Serum: Are you sure this is safe? Potion : Safer than Flintstone vitamin gummies in a bottle. Potion : Keep twisting, junior! All you’re gonna get is clicks.

— FIRST TRY!

Comet: Potion , you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break. Potion : DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

— Wasp Glass probably

Bee: You shouldn't be using a straw. Glass: I know, I know, it's bad for the environment and stuff. Bee: Yeah, but I mean... it's a weird way to eat spaghetti.

—

Glass: You ever get so tired that you start seeing spiders? Firefly : Me after I take 17 Benadryl and start seeing the hat man. Glass: THE WHO? Firefly : Oh is this not a safe space suddenly?

#Incorrect Quotes #OC Incorrect Quotes #OC Ask Blog Incorrect Quotes #Maus #Out Of Glass #OoG #// This is so much funnier with Comet #// Other blog OCs get a little cameo as a treat

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gobbluthbutagirl · 11 months

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trying to remember what last june was like for me….um i know towards the beginning of the month i spent over an hour of my one precious life cleaning the single nastiest & most disgusting target cart anyone on this bitch hell of an earth has ever laid eyes on because we only had like 11 in the store at that time. i found a penis drawn in nail polish on the nail polish aisle. hr guy made a “float” for the pride parade that was literally just a target cart with some streamers on it and they didn’t ask me to be in the parade and i was literally soooo offended even though i was in the closet the entire time and then like 3 days before the parade hr guy was like, “holly are you coming to the pride parade with us?” and i was like “well you didn’t invite me so no” and that was how he found out i wasn’t invited so he invited me and i said yes. and then the day of the pride parade the damn a/c was out in the store and it was like 200 degrees hotter in there than it was outside and hr guy literally would not stop sending me on cart runs and the next day was more of the same except i got so dehydrated i literally almost died and i drank like 32oz of electrolytes including a liquid iv at work then went home early and immediately drank 40oz of water in under 2 minutes and still felt like i was dying of thirst all night. and then that wednesday a bald guy came in and tried to steal $1400+ worth of stuff including like 8 pairs of haircutting scissors and hr guy acted like a hypocrite and a fool over register-closing procedures and made me mad as hell and then later i found out there was a bob dylan concert that night from spotify asking me if i went and i was like no spotify i wasn’t at the bob dylan concert i was at target suffering more than jesus LIKE ALWAYS! and then my dad & brother & youngest sister flew in and we rented a hotel room in santa monica that was approximately 1000x nicer than that horrible shithole i called “my apartment” and we drove down to san diego that one day and the homeless guy with the bag of piss came up to us at the intersection and went, “we fucked her good!” which is still my favorite welcome from any city ever and then the last night of the vacation i literally ditched my family in santa monica and took 2 trains back to my horrible shithole apartment at like 10pm and ignored all their attempts to contact me until they were back on the east coast because i was so ashamed of the just everything about my life. and then there was that incident at the end of the month where hr guy made me so so so mad that i really said “well i might have to quit” and then just walked out 2 hours into my shift and then 2 days later i randomly showed up and i was like, “[hr guy], i’m gonna tell you exactly what my problem with you is and exactly why i’m quitting,” and then he was like, “would you like to sit down?” and i was like, “NO!” and then he sat down and i just stood there and yelled at him about how i’m an ideal employee and i have done things for this store that literally nobody else on earth is willing to do and he’s an asshole and nobody likes him and i’ve heard a lot of people say a lot of things about him and none of them have been anything good. and he was just like, “please don’t quit. i will pay you for this,” and i decided to stay because i decided that was objectively really funny. and then either i got a stomach ulcer or i already had a stomach ulcer and it exploded and ruined the rest of my summer. and it was literally the worst of times but it was also the most entertaining of times and oh god what if that’s the best my life ever gets

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jeymoi · 1 year

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a very rough and quick vent art sketch because i am in my feels and don’t have enough time to commit to this drawing lmao. hello again to the tumblr void and welcome to my rant ✌🏼😌 i think the stress and constant looming melancholy has made me slightly more insane but we are slaying so that is all that matters. (warning, idk if any of this makes sense, i am sleep deprived and my eyes are blotted with tears ✌🏼 i think my own thoughts are funny so here’s to another silly goofy online journal entry that i can use for reference in the future hehe)

for some reason, ive just been thinking about how “actions speak louder than words” all night and how important it is for me and all my friendships. i guess this is just me overthinking a little and not understanding how i prefer to receive love languages, but idk.

i’ve had friends tell me that they dont think they can ever be there for me the way i am for them and it gnaws at my lil brain every now and then because im convinced it’s what i deserve. i think im just used to giving more of my time and energy to others than i am used to giving it to myself. my people pleasing habits sometimes erase who i even am as a person to my friends and to me.

but then i have friends who won’t say much but will be there for me, the way i think i am for others, even when im being stubborn or difficult and think i’m the worst person in the world. though this may be the emotional repression talking, i dont think i’ll ever really fully understand love and care and how others perceive me, but what i do understand is that the comfort of even such small gestures – like sitting in a call while im crying for no reason and just being there, or checking in to make sure i’ve eaten, or even just texting me to check in after a busy busy day or exhausting work week – is the closest thing i can think of to feeling loved recently.

i know that not all friendships will feel equal very often. sometimes you have to give more than you take. i’m okay with doing that because i really do care for my friends even if my effort isn’t reciprocated. maybe i’m just feeling sappy right now, but when my friends actively show me they care through even the smallest of words or actions, my heart becomes so full.

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auxiliarydetective · 1 year

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Love and War, Chapter 8

Goodbye

i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii.

AO3

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄✼▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

And so, Anita ended up staying with Easy Company. Starting the next day, they would be moving again. It was a welcome change of pace, especially compared to sitting around and freezing. After Bastogne, they were now in the area of Foy, a town fast in the Germans’ hands. As the days went by, Anita found herself getting more and more accepted into Easy. She made new acquaintances like Garcia, Andrews, Miller and Hashey and deepened her relationship with people like Buck Compton, Frank Perconte, Joe Toye and Donald Hoobler. First Sergeant Lipton was kind to her too, as he was kind to anyone. Even Lieutenant Dike sometimes talked to her, though the conversations were always very short and awkward. The poor man, “Foxhole Norman”, who seemed like he was in over his head. Either way, those little conversations with friends and acquaintances made the icy cold weather just a little easier to deal with. If you were complaining about the cold, at least you could do it together. But there were also moments that made cold showers, colder than the snow, run down Anita’s spine. Moments like the death of Donald Hoobler. It had been a single shot in the distance. Just one. Only a while later had she learned what had happened. Hoobler had been shot in the leg by the thing he had gone around bragging with to everyone, by his most prized loot, his luger. It had hit the main artery, leaving him to bleed out in panic and pain. But that was far from the worst. The worst was yet to come.

The day had started with Easy returning to its old position overlooking Foy, just at the edge of the woods. What had greeted them were shattered trees everywhere, a foreboding message of what was to come. That was artillery. Whatever Anita had believed to be artillery fire before had been nothing compared to the shellings here. The images of the trees around her made Anita think of her cheek wound. Splinters from these explosions wouldn’t have simply pierced her cheek, they could take out her entire leg.

Foxholes were being dug, an activity that Anita could almost say she enjoyed, simply because it made her feel the most useful. This time, she was helping Guarnere, gathering branches for his cover.

“Thanks Anita," he said and took back his little axe. “You’re a quick lumberjack.”

“It’s not like a had to chop down a tree, the Germans already did that for me," Anita explained. “I just had to chop off the branches. Do you need any more?”

“No, I think that’s enough.”

Together, they started arranging the branches to cover the foxhole, weaving them together to create a little wall.

“Hey, how’s your face?” Guarnere asked. “Is it healing well?”

“Well, I haven’t had any complaints yet," Anita said. “Probably gonna leave a scar though.”

“Eh, don’t worry about that. Scars don’t make you any less beautiful.”

“You’re always a charmer.”

“Of course. Gotta make sure you don’t regret stayin’. You ever miss bein’ a rigger?”

“Sometimes," Anita confessed. “But I miss Aldbourne for a different reason.”

“Bars? Warmth?”

“Showers. God, I would die for a shower right now. I feel so yucky.”

“Eh, you’re fine," Guarnere told her. “But if you ever wanna shower and you need someone to stand guard, ya let me know, alright?”

“Sure," Anita chuckled.

That was when an explosion went off, closely followed by another and another and another. The Germans had started firing on their position. Yells filled the air, barely audible over the noise. Guarnere pulled Anita into his chest as they cowered in the barely finished foxhole. In the middle of the chaos, Don plopped down next to them, covering his head. The shelling seemed to go on for hours, smoke clouding the skies, snow being whirled around, splinters flying through the air. When it was quiet again, it was almost haunting. Slowly, Guarnere let Anita go and gave her a pat on the back. The three of them, Anita, Don and Guarnere, looked over the foxhole like cautious rabbits.

“Maybe we should see if anybody’s hit," Don suggested, giving a voice to Anita’s thoughts.

“Eh, Malark, that’s what they want," Guarnere said. “The Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open.”

Anita’s ears were still ringing with the sound of the explosions when she heard a voice. It was pained, distorted, sending shivers down her spine.

“I gotta get up… I gotta get up…”

“Does anyone else hear that?” she gasped.

Both Don and Guarnere nodded.

“Is that Joe?” Guarnere asked.

For a few seconds, they all listened in silence.

“Yeah, I think that’s Joe," Don confirmed.

Anita remembered something: She still had one first aid packet left. Doc Roe had given it to her, along with schooling her once again that she should never put herself in danger to help another person. She should leave that up to the medics. But if the opportunity ever called for it, he had said, she could use the packet to save a life. It seemed that time was now. Joe Toye was out there, not too far away, sounding like he was in shock. He needed her help. Quickly, Anita got up but was immediately pulled back down.

“Stay," Guarnere said curtly, then hurried into the snow and the smoke to where the voice had come from.

“Stay in your foxholes!” another voice shouted further away. “Stay in your foxholes!”

Anita looked after him, clenching her gloved hands into fists. She wanted to be the one out there. She needed to know if Toye was okay. Her mind trailed back to the story about Hoobler. Joe Toye was probably in a similar state he was in, scared and in pain. At least Hoobler hadn’t been alone, but Toye was. He was all by himself. Or he would be until Guarnere reached him. Hopefully, it would all be okay.

“You alright?” Don asked, placing a hand on Anita’s arm.

This snapped her out of her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah… I’m just…”

“Worried about Joe?”

“Yeah. I feel bad just sitting here.”

“Bill’s gonna take care of him. He’s gonna be okay.”

Anita nodded quietly. She leaned against Don and closed her eyes, hoping to find a calmer piece of mind. But that attempt was cut short by another explosion. Another shelling. Immediately, Anita’s heart beat faster than machine gun fire. Toye and Guarnere were still out there! She tried to peek over the top of the foxhole, but Don pulled her down. This barrage was torture. It went on for what felt like hours, leaving Anita panicking inside over whether her friends were okay. They had to be okay. They had to have made it to a foxhole. Finally, the noise died down again. Anita looked around, trying to spot movement in the smoke.

“They’re okay, Annie," Don assured her. “They’re-“

“MEDIC!”

That was Buck Compton’s voice, but distorted and shaky. Immediately, Anita hurled herself out of the foxhole. This time, there was no stopping her. The call had come from the direction Joe Toye’s voice had also come from, from the direction Guarnere had run to. She could hardly see, hardly breathe in the smoke, but she kept going. Finally, she broke through the trees. Before her stood Buck Compton, his helmet in the snow next to him, his hands shaking. He was blankly staring at the ground in front of him. What he was looking at made Anita’s heart stop and shatter. On scarlet-colored snow lay her friends, Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye, unconscious. Both of them had been hit in the leg, but it was no ordinary wound. No. Toye had had his leg blown off, a large, bloody flesh wound right where a leg should have been. Guarnere’s leg was completely mingled, like a wild animal had torn it apart. The sight made Anita nauseous, but she could hardly feel it over the pain in her chest, the urge to scream and cry. But she didn’t. She knew she had to do something.

“Buck," she said softly, carefully approaching him. “Buck.”

He looked at her with widened eyes, his breathing shallow.

“You need to sit down, okay? Come on.”

She picked up his helmet from the floor and took him by the arms. It took some effort to turn his frozen body around, but finally he let himself be moved. Slowly, she guided him to a fallen tree nearby and sat him down.

“Drink some water," she suggested. “You’ll feel better. Everything is going to be okay. They’ll make it.”

She didn’t know if she believed what she said, but she told herself she did. Once he was safely settled down, she headed back to where Toye and Guarnere were, taking a deep breath. Who to help first? What could she even do for Guarnere? That was not a wound for first aid, that was- Oh god, it was awful. Quickly, she squatted down next to Toye, took off her gloves and pulled out her first aid packet. Where was that medic? What was taking him so long? Finally, right at that moment, Doc Roe came. Anita made space for him, letting him do his work. That was when Toye’s eyes fluttered open. Immediately, he started to breathe rapidly, pained groans escaping between each gasp for air.

“You’re okay, Joe, you’re okay," Anita told him, taking his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want this anymore," Toye whimpered.

“You’ll be okay. Hang in there, Joe.” She ran her fingers across his cheek. “Just breathe.”

“Shit," she heard a groan behind her.

She turned around to see that Bill Guarnere had propped himself up. He was now wriggling around, trying to move. It reminded her hauntingly of Toye’s words. I gotta get up. I gotta get up.

“Hey, Bill, don’t move," she gasped.

She left Toye in the hands of Doc Roe and rushed to Bill’s side. Carefully, she wrapped an arm around him, giving him stability. He leaned against her limply, his breathing shallow from the pain.

“Somethin’ tells me I won’t recover from this too easy," he groaned.

“No, this is your ticket home," Anita said softly.

Steps approached in the snow and Don came out from behind the trees. His eyes were widened in shock. Quickly, he scrambled to the floor next to Joe Toye and helped him stay upright.

“What can I do?”

“You got a smoke?” Toye asked through gritted teeth.

Quickly, Don shook off his glove and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“Jesus, what’s a guy gotta do to get killed around here?” Toye moaned.

Whatever the cigarette Don gave him would do to help, Anita hoped it had the effect he wanted. Maybe, just maybe, it would distract him. From behind the trees, two men with a stretcher arrived.

“Bill, you’re going first," the medic said.

“Whatever you say, Doc," Bill groaned. “Whatever you say. - Hey, Anita?”

“Yes?” Anita replied, squeezing his shoulders.

“How about you kiss me goodbye?”

A chuckle escaped Anita from somewhere deep down, despite her feeling nothing like laughing. Before the two men came to pick him up, she pressed a kiss on his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. When he was lifted onto the stretcher, Bill cried out in pain at the sudden movement, sending shivers down Anita’s spine.

That was when Lipton arrived.

“Hey, Lip. They got ol’ Guarnere this time," Bill announced as if apologetically.

Lipton just stared, then looked around as if trying to assess the situation.

“Hey, Joe," Bill said as they carried him off, “I told ya I’d beat ya back to the states.”

That was the last Anita heard from him. She stared at him for a few seconds, then forced herself to look away. Her eyes wandered around as if she had been taken out of a trance. Then, she saw Luz coming towards the group from where Compton still sat, his head in his hands.

“Hey, Lip," Luz said somberly, as if to announce something. But when he saw Joe Toye, whimpering and gasping for air on the ground, his leg missing, he froze.

“How’s Buck?," Lipton asked. But he got no response. “Luz! How’s Buck?”

“He’s fine," Luz replied quietly.

“You sure?”

“Yes, he’s fine. … You should probably go talk to him now, huh?”

“Alright.”

So, Lipton left to go see Compton. Luz stood there for a while, looking like any gust of wind could knock him over. Then, he headed off. Anita watched him leave, nausea twisting her insides. She took one more look at Joe Toye on the ground. He was in good hands, she told herself. Don and Doc Roe would take care of him. Buck Compton had someone to look after him now, too. But there was one person who had nobody. So, Anita followed Luz through the trees. She found him sitting in a foxhole, all by himself.

“Hey," she said softly.

“Hey," he replied, trying to force a smile.

She sat down in the foxhole next to him and looked him in the eyes. They were empty, hollow. Their usually warm and lively brown had turned cold.

“How do you feel?”

“Peachy," he said. “Never been better.”

With shaky hands, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette pack. His eyes fixated on something in the distance, he popped it open and fished around inside, only to find out that it was empty.

“Shit," he murmured.

Quickly, Anita opened her bag and pulled out her own, still full pack of cigarettes, offering it to him. That got his attention. Finally, he looked her in the eyes.

“I thought you didn’t smoke," he said as he took one of the cigarettes and started searching his pockets for his lighter.

“I don’t. But they gave me a pack when I left for Bastogne, just like everyone else got one," Anita explained. “Figured I might as well keep it. You never know when someone might need a smoke.”

That was when George Luz smiled again, even if just a little. It was the faint hint of a smile, but it was enough. As he fumbled with his lighter, just a little of his usual self was back.

“Here, let me help you," Anita offered.

She took his lighter and lit his cigarette for him. The smoke that now started to fill the air made her feel at home. In a way, she had started associating it with Easy Company. Those nights in the pub at Aldbourne. It reminded her of Don, Luz… but also of Bill. Her body tensed up at the memory, making her want to puke out her intestines.

“Hey, where’d you leave your gloves?” Luz asked, taking one of her hands and puffing a cloud of warm smoke onto it.

Now it was Anita whose hands were shaking. One was occupied by Luz, the other she used to cover her mouth to muffle a sob. She had left her gloves with Joe Toye.

“Come here," Luz said softly and pulled her into his arms.

She let him, unable to resist anything and yearning for human touch as some sort of remedy to her pain. Her whole body shaking with her sobs, she clung on to him like a lifeline.

“It’s okay," Luz told her, rubbing his hands across her back. “Let it out. It’s gonna be okay.”

They stayed like this for a while. Over and over, he told her that it would be okay, comforted her, made her feel safe, understood. Slowly but surely, Anita’s breathing calmed, her sobs faded away, her thoughts stopped spinning. Finally, she took a deep breath and pulled herself out of Luz’s comforting arms.

“I’m sorry," she mumbled.

“Don’t be," he replied.

“You keep having to deal with my emotions. That’s gotta be tough.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“You too. Anyone who offers me smokes is a good friend.”

“I take it back, you’re awful.”

“There’s the Anita I know.”

“You want another smoke for later?”

“Always.”

So, Anita once again pulled out her cigarette pack and took out a few cigarettes, transporting them from her pack into Luz’s.

“And when you light it…”

“I’ll think of my favourite wacko, the pinup angel who gifted it to me.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They stayed in silence for a while, watching the grey skies. Anita rubbed her hands together, trying to somehow keep them warm. She breathed in the smoke as Luz took the last drag of his cigarette and watched as he threw the remains of it away with a light flick of his hand. That was when Don approached from behind.

“There you are, Annie," he said and came down into the foxhole. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry, sorry," Anita said. “I had to make a social call.”

“Those are your gloves, right?”

Anita looked at the black woolen gloves in his hands, then at her own hands, reddened with the cold.

“Yeah," she said a little faintly. “Can’t go too long without 'em in this god-awful weather.”

#band of brothers #band of brothers oc #oc: anita reed #fanfiction

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idreamofhamandcheese · 1 year

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🅵🆄🅽🅺🆈 🅵🅸🅽🅳 🆃🅷🅴 🆆🅾🆁🅳 🆃🅰🅶

thanks @avocado-frog for the tag!! :D bestie vibes only

Snow (from current mystery project)

It was the Castle. And yet it wasn't. It had that same grey stonework, peaks like the points of a bat's wing, grand windows like a knife's edge. But the cheery green doors I knew were slippery black, guarded by lanterns. The welcome banner Lois and her art friends had spent weeks working on, splattered with rainbows and flowers, was nowhere to be seen. Even those familiar windows, the ones I'd spent many an evening sighing out of, were bare, stripped of the welded, ugly bars that had been strapped on when the school reopened in the nineties. The Castle even glowed slightly differently-- that vaguely fluorescent, faux-comforting hue of the lightbulbs that made me vaguely sick was replaced with a warm sepia glow that blurred into the frosty air, like the school was bleeding from the inside.

It was unmistakably Clareview.

But it wasn't my Clareview.

"Thea?" Margot had noticed my gaping, and was standing in the spotlights created by the lights either side of the main doors. The soft light caught in her lashes like snowflakes, dusty and impermanent. Margot seemed like she might slip away if I blinked. "You're missing the party, you know. Not that I'm desperate to go back in myself."

Trail (from abandoned book lmao)

In a dark puddle lay the remnants of a man. He had been around Amiri’s age, portly with thin white hair now stained red at the tips. His torso was ripped open-- but ripped wasn’t the word for it. There was no mania here. With a surgeon’s hand, a steady X had been carved into his skin, the resulting flaps peeled apart to reveal his weeping innards. My anatomical knowledge was frustratingly lacking, but even I could tell that his stomach had been the target. Like a pin-picked balloon, it now curled out of place over his ribs, trailing a pallid yellow pus. There was a hole the size of a small coin blown through his forehead. Pink matter marbled the crimson pooling around his head. His eyes were wide open, frozen in terror.

Cackle (from a project from FOUR YEARS AGO WHICH IS THE WORST THING I'VE EVER READ BUT APPARENTLY I HATE THE WORD CACKLE. growth ig)

His mentor let out a sound that sounded like an attempt at a laugh. Callassandra, as a rule, did not laugh. She was vehemently opposed to fun, though she had be know to be cackling at an enemy's misfortune once or twice. "Nerves? Whatever for?" She retracted the fingernail harshly, sniffing in a harsh breath as she did so. "You're not nervous. You will follow the plan. The plan that has been set out for you for years, or there will be consequences. I don't think I need to go into what those consequences are, do I?"

Outline (from a 90,000 word science fiction (???why) book i forgot i wrote from like 2 years ago, also flaming garbage)

"I have to say." Wren smoothed down his lapels, his blaster hanging from his finger haphazardly. Harper lunged forward and grabbed it before he shot his face off, but he barely seemed to notice this. "This might be the classiest treason I've ever committed."

I checked for the cool weight of my blaster and glanced out into the connecting service room. "This is where we part," I said.

"They'd definitely be in the holding cells," Harper said.

"And the broadcast room is that way." Kat nodded in the opposite direction, smoothing her skirt down just enough so that I could see the outline of a set of knives underneath the fabric. She whipped her skirt just so, practicing, and they flew out perfectly, allowing Kat to catch them in a split second. She sheathed them again, seemingly satisfied.

anyway this was chaotic but hey at least ive def improved in my writing

tags (idk if y'all have been tagged already and i cant b arsed 2 check):

@calloumii

@mynroli

@litbylightning

words: cat, moon, card, shimmer

#writing #tag game #writer #author

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ambivalence-and-torpor · 1 year

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Striga what drives you to want to heal and help people?

TC: V I uh... huh... V

TC: V I guess I never really thought about it all too hard, never really questioned my desire like that V

TC: V Hhhmmmm... V

She mulls it over for a few moments, expression becoming a little more somber. A lot of memories flash before his eyes, thoughts racing.

TC: V Ive always been rather friendly even before puberty hit me square in the jaw and turned me into... what I am today. Believe it or not, but I used to be a bit of a social butterfly with a lot of friends. Always felt like their mere presence was giving me energy, giving me life... V

TC: V But then I started taking their lives... even if by accident... Sustaining myself in a way that made me feel... guilty at best and like an unforgivable monster at worst... I became a recluse soon after, running away and isolating myself for their safety... V

TC: V I suppose a part of me just is the nurturing type, but another part hopes to make up for past mistakes? You might say that guilt inevitably sent me down this path, but... V

TC: V Then I also remember things about my family... about Dad and Pa and Kyuuga... how Pa welcomed me into their home without question or recompense... V

TC: V He gave me a life worth living, a future worth imagining... and as much as Id like to repay Pa, theres not much I can do for them besides live my best life. According to him, at least. V

TC: V He once said that everything he did for me, he did out of love. Everything he gave, he gave willingly and freely, never expecting anything in return, but... if I ever felt the need to give something back, I should pay it forward to somebody else instead, somebody who much like myself needed help when they were in a dark place... V

TC: V Id kind of forgotten about that talk we had, but I guess Ive been living by that thought. I was nurtured. I was saved. I was given everything I could have ever asked for... It allowed me to get to a place of happiness, a place from which I can freely give unto others... so I try to do that... V

#Striga #Fantroll #OC #ask #berrycherryart #long post

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goremet-chef · 2 months

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its so cute i need to. ramble okay

in creatures of sonaria like. man. a year ago at this point? i made friends with someone and like. just by chance, they decided to add me to their pack and let me kill with them and like. I WAS NERVOUS im not known for. my social prowess 💀 but they liked me? and they added me as a friend and idk it was nice. like it was a group and i was kinda in the group? even if i was mostly quiet the whole time, i was still helping and covering for them yknow?

i didnt play for a while, i went from like. playing daily to playing monthly but i started playing again and i remember i think they invited me a few times to come play like with the roblox invite function but i wasnt online at the time and so. IDK i didnt think anything would come from it yknow? but. when i joined their server on accident, they added me to their pack immediately and said hi and im like SHOCKED. did i matter enough for them to like. feel the need to say hello to me and invite me to hang with them? IT. its happened more and more, i like to play with them whenever i can and i get nervous maybe im annoying them by joining them all the time but they always invite me and say hi, and its to the point where other people in the group also say hi to me and it

you must understand! im a fucking loser man, im not someone people get along with, im painfully awkward, i feel like an alien trying its best to act human okay. but it feels good, it feels like. NORMAL. we arent serious friends like i dont know shit about them, probably never will honestly i just like to wreak havoc with them. ive always been afraid of like. INFILTRATING a group, thats what it feels like!! whenever im accepted anywhere, im so terrified im latching onto false hope, im scared that im forcing my way in and im too happy to really see it. but. they say hi to me and they mess around with me and they JOKE WITH ME like. OKAY!!! im still quiet like 90% of the time but they know alright im busy playing the game, its not like i have much to say anyways!! its fun to be. social? like im too scared, fearing itll go so horrible wrong and bruise my already quite small and fragile ego, so when it goes RIGHT?? idk i just wanna. ramble about it cuz

i joined today and one of the other members said "YAYY looksee" and it. MY HEART... i like all of them cuz i hang out with them enough like. i really only talk to the one who has me added since they will actually say things to me directly but i feel like im opening up more? just a little, im still shy but. IDK knowing theyre like getting used to me? yay looksee?????? teehee!!!!!!!!! idk why it makes me so happy, i guess im easy to please if you show me the slightest bit of. positive acknowledgement im absolutely giddy. the bar is on the floor 💀 but i dont care!!

when have i ever made a friend on roblox? ive been called slurs and insulted and told to kill myself more times than anyone has ever like. tried to be my friend 💀 i get it, im not very welcoming, its not like i try to be. im friendly sure, but quiet, and if im in any sort of social interaction (which can range from someone speaking to me and not going away after they say what they wanted to say to literally just. something cute, like someone sitting with me or giving me some food) i cant handle it (i scream and close the game as fast as possible, my heartrate goes up im BREATHING HEAVILY IM SCARED... it was nice but. terrifying!!! i feel the obligation to stay and thats too big of a commitment OKAY... roblox creature you must understand)

ITS A LOT FOR ME OKAY.. and i mean. i know how my roblox avatar looks, ive been told its cringe enough times for one lifetime, im tired!!! i get it. catboy with a skirt ooo so scary. that boy is a faggot, yeah yell it louder at me.

the worst part about that is like. IT HURTS... i know i shouldnt care about what a child on roblox says to me in creatures of sonaria trade realm, but lord! it hurts. i dont socialize, ive had enough bullying!!!!! ive done my time IN SCHOOL. alright thats enough im good on the bullying. idk im just weak i guess I CANT HANDLE IT. im not good with confrontation, i wont come up with a witty response, ill just sit and wait for them to get bored from me ignoring them and leave me alone. ITS ROUGH. especially cuz its ALWAYS about my avatar, i look gay i get it, thats the point.

im a very like. ive spent TOO MUCH TIME kicking myself down over 'cringe' alright. i literally lost my interests and passion cuz i was scared of being cringe, wanted to fit in better. it made me MISERABLE. im very pro cringe i love it cuz? its only cringe if you suck, things that are 'cringe' i never find cringey even a little bit, cuz i like it when people are happy. but. i find it hard not to be a little embarrassed. its ROBLOX i get to look however i want!! i love silly roblox avatars okay, i dont want to be embarrassed about mine!!! im not a confident person, i wear it around because i like the image of this stupid catboy clothes on a very man shaped man alright looksee is my pride and joy i give him a little kis. but maybe they get the wrong idea? idk. i dont think so, i think they just dont like how i look. whatever. also my avatar matches with my friends really well so. its iconic to me!!!

still, like i said. its why i try not to play social games alone on roblox, im scared to be bullied i will admit 💀 if my friend was there, she'd tell them to kill themselves for me!!! but. shes not always there. i literally panic anytime someone runs up to me directly i sigh and say 'here we go again' cuz im waiting the imminent insults alright. IM TIREDDD so tired. they dont get him like i do. hes an avatar ive DRAWN before hes just an oc at this point, i wont ever change him cuz i like him but . sometimes it gets hard!!!

im so off topic here i just. NEED TO RANT A LITTLE cuz it. it does genuinely bother me but im too scared to like. VENT ABOUT IT to any of my friends cuz im absolutely sure some of them would roll their eyes, its just a game!! game is important to someone like me, game is the closest i come to like. living in a real social world, of course its important to me!! game is the easiest way for me to interact with strangers and not die of a panic attack immediately after 💀

WHATEVER im yapping i love to yap but. idk i just wanted to talk about it, im still so . it feels good to know that even if im weird and quiet, im not so weird and so quiet that people want to avoid me all the time. theres SOMETHING about me that they think is cool enough, like. well. i can overthink if i want to. maybe theyre adding me into their pack out of pity? maybe they dont actually like having me around but they feel too awkward to like. they feel like its gone too far now? in too deep? or maybe. im not as awful as i think i am!! maybe im weird and offputting but its okay :]

LISTEN. maybe this is normal for everyone else but its a big deal for me oky. ITS HUGE ACTUALLY. like just to have a mindless video game buddy? someone i dont even like. I DONT EVEN KNOW THEIR PRONOUNS BRO thats how little i actually converse with them but. like its not serious its just a little treat for myself, a little thing i can have. shaking like a chihuahua right now. its embarrassing to be so excited about it but. i dont do this sort of thing ever really, maybe im getting better? even if im not, ill still enjoy it

#this is so long dont read ihis GUHH #im rambling they call me the rambler #also ranter i do be ranting a little but . im allowed ive dealt with enough!!!!!#i need to get it out or ill EPXLODSION #like im unpleasantly stimming right now its too much for me GET IT OUT #i need to watch tjoc or something i need to be scared out of my mind and laugh about it i need. i dont know what i need

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