eideticspider
tortured spiders department
indie, private cindy moon aka silk | multiverse | loved by cait | mun is 28 | please read rules before interacting
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#;snapshots#;silk webs {aesthetic}#;light of my life {enzo benjamin moon}#;midnight rain & sunshine {cindy x miguel}
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would’ve, could’ve, should’ve // so long, london - taylor swift
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BAE SUZY as LEE DOONA
DOONA! (2023) | Ep. 1
#;snapshots#;visage#;silk webs {aesthetic}#;behind the mask {cindy moon}#;reporting for duty {cindy moon/silk}
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the prophecy - taylor swift
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All she can focus on is the soft THUDS of her running shoes on the trail, the beat of the MUSIC in her ears, the brush of her long ponytail slipping and sliding against her shoulders. Mile THREE of the six mile trail in Central Park had come and gone, and Cindy notes but doesn't acknowledge the several other RUNNERS who slowed to a jog and then a stop, leaning against trees to catch their breath.
Her breath swirled in the air in front her, her STAMINA keeping her ready to finish the last mile and a half with ease.
Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my SHIT--
Cindy kept her pace up, keeping her gaze steady on the path in front of her.
She'd been PRODUCTIVE since that night. Sure, she'd gone home and CRIED--took a HOT bath, drank half a bottle of ROSE and considered staying in bed the rest of the weekend.
Her mother had forced her out for a FAMILY meal, pulling her from the safety of her blankets. Aunt Rita was particularly SNOBBY this time and Cindy suspected it was because her AFFAIR partner had been with his wife and not her.
Her bed in the soft DAWN light this morning had been more than a little tempting. Cool sheets greeted smooth legs, the comforter half off the bed. She'd turned her head, let the sun's light KISS her cheeks and reluctantly fluttered her eyes open. For a long moment, she laid there, contemplating a day of ROTTING, as she listened to Al try his best to be QUIET.
He was terrible at it--the coffee maker screeching a little too loud, the cabinets never hitting as SOFTLY as he wanted--but it was the effort that mattered. She waited until he had left before she stretched and started her own DAY. The two BREAK INS the night before had pushed the remaining anxiety and DEVASTATION to the back corners--her purpose propelling her forward. Peter had asked her to COVER the city the other night, Mayday was nursing a COLD and MJ wasn't too far off from her own take on the sickness--she agreed, the Parkers were FAMILY and she needed the distraction.
But now, the self-loathing filled to the BRIM again. It simmered for a moment before Cindy sucked it back down. It had been a long couple of days, reconciling the place his FRIENDSHIP held for her. It was more important than any DELUSIONAL romantic feelings had. She'd rather have him as her best FRIEND than a stranger. She was done pushing him away.
So--she smiled. Pulled herself up by the bootstraps and let the disappointment go. Despite the ache it caused, she reminded herself: He's my FRIEND and nothing else. Better to have him in my LIFE then not at all.
Maybe it was time to let MJ set her up on that BLIND date she'd been suggesting. It had been too LONG since she'd been in a relationship. Hector had been her only BIG love and there was the one date she had with Johnny Storm. It had gone NOWHERE. Maybe--the person she was meant to be with wasn't ANYTHING like them. Someone without any powers. No LIFE altering career responsibilities. But the thought of having to LIE, even if it were for a short time, filled her with more existential DREAD.
No.
Cindy blinked and she was back on the TRAIL, her arms lightly pumping as she ran. She'd made up her mind to APOLOGIZE to Miguel when she got back to her apartment, sweat clinging to warm skin beneath her jacket. Her phone started RINGING, interrupting her music.
A frown tugged at her lips but she glanced down at the phone connected to her headphones, arching a brow as the name registered in her brain. Gracefully, she narrowly misses CRASHING into a jogger going the wrong way, occupied by his own phone.
"Hey Miguel," Cindy breathed, tucking the phone back into her pockets, picking up her pace. Like she was RUNNING from her own demons. Maybe I am. "What's up?"
@eideticspider
Even from the grave, Conchata still ruled his life.
What began as a productive day ended disastrously—perhaps not with as much severity as confusion and regret reveled in promoting, but clumsily nevertheless. The decline to Cindy's invitation was kindly meant, with perfect consideration for her time, the chance of his own imposition, solicitude for her brother; but there was something in her reception of it that shifted the tone to one of unnecessary despair, which urged Miguel to defend himself against any accusation, spoken or implied, of his being uncivil. When dryness styled his every word and led everyone to assume him indifferent, when it was expected of him, it was impossible to avoid giving offense to somebody. For that Cindy had never been a notion, not in the few months of their friendship, and yet a stab of betrayal answered her obvious disappointment. Did she really think him so crass, so insensitive, after such budding, glowing compliments to his merits, his virtues? By God, it was a simple movie—nothing to get twisted over! That favor Miguel called himself doing of sparing her to her obligations was apparently misguided, and even worse, he'd assumed to worst of her intentions, for one raised with conditional love learns to expect conditions everywhere.
Like a child in a grown man's body.
...Why was socializing a practice in which he always emerged unstudied? Perhaps that was penance for the conceit he once harbored for seldom studying in school and being allowed to ace his course with shrugging, pen-spinning ease.
Opening his eyes one morning, light pierced them and made him squint. He touched his fingers to both sides of his brow and winced quietly.
"Lyla, could you..."
["No prob, bob. Got you covered."]
By command, a soft whir signaled the shades were unrolling. When it ended, Miguel sat up. He reached back and scratched then ruffled his hair—a thick layer of oil. Three days had passed since the meeting with S squad, which came immediately after the weekend, and his absorption with programming the Go Home machine seemed to muddy his days. So...it was Thursday? No, Wednesday. No. Fuck! Why wasn't it Thursday? The sunlight looked misplaced, the precise color of its rays somehow tardy or premature, he knew not which. There was nowhere to hide, and the distinct desertion of mercy in the carriage of each day was making him sluggish.
As Miguel pattered into the kitchen, bare-chested and disheveled, in nothing but pajama pants, Lyla greeted him from overhead with the offer to start his usual blend of coffee, which he mumbled an agreement to and leaned on the counter, scrubbing an eye with all his fingertips.
A beat went by.
"Hey. Lyla?"
[" 'Sup."]
"Hey, can you tell me what day the thing is, with Cindy?"
["Uhhh...What thing?"]
Miguel halted and looked at the ceiling. "You mean you didn't put it on the calendar?"
["You didn't ask me to, so it must not be important."]
"Oh, fuck me. I'm supposed to meet up with her at the women's shelter! I know you love eavesdropping."
["Can't do that. I'm not programmed with a conscience."]
Miguel's face dropped into a series of lines. Stupid battles, smartest soldiers.
"Yeah, no shit."
["What're you confused about?"]
Heavy sigh. "I can't remember if she said it was the day of, or..."
["It's prob'bly the day of. Thanksgiving's on the twenty-seventh. Today's the twenty-fifth."]
"Are you fu—Fuck my ass."
["Hang on. Let me pull up the catalogue."]
"It's an expression! Jesus!" Could he just pour his fucking coffee?
["Fiiiiine, geez. Want me to call 'er?"]
"No, tha—"
["Calling her now."]
"Drgh! Ly—"
#spiderbyhalf#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;sheltering {miguel & cindy | spiderbyhalf}#;read more for length
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Her smile, however FAKE it really was, drops the moment he's gone and she lets the tears slide down her cheeks. For a long minute, she watches the direction he SWUNG away, letting out a shaky sigh as her hands reach up to wipe her cheeks away.
"Bye."
Cindy sighs again, blinks up to the HEAVENS and gives herself a small shake as she stuffs her hands into her pockets, heading towards the door to the STAIRS. Swinging would be EASIER, quicker. But the long walk HOME seemed more therapeutic, more what she needed. She gives another shaky breath and walks home in the SILENT snow.
As her boots lightly crunch in the soft blanket of ICE and snow, she lets a few more tears slip down her cheeks.
Fuck.
Something like a growl, something like sigh, rolled through Miguel's chest, heavy with resignation—or defeat, maybe.
"Fine. Whatever, Cindy. Bye."
Springing off the ledge, he arced his weight backwards then snapped his wrist, swinging away.
#spiderbyhalf#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;holiday cheer {miguel & cindy | spiderbyhalf}
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Cindy blinks a few times, snow catching in her lashes, FREEZING the would-be tears in her eyes. Her lower lip gives only the slightest quiver before her eyes NARROW slightly.
"I didn't ASSUME that, Miguel. I understand, you've got things to do--so do I," she answers quietly, nose going rosy from the CHILL. A new FEAR began to pick at her mind, picking at the scabs of self-doubt--did he see her the way she was seeing herself?
SAD, pathetic, insignificant, weak.
Her anxiety was beginning to CREEP up on her, stealing her breath and chasing her to MADNESS. Her heartbeat sped up and her hands, despite the cold began to feel CLAMMY and slick. Instead of revealing her fear, Cindy just gave a soft chuckle and shook her head.
Pick yourself up, Cindy.
"I mean, I'm just assuming you're TERRIFIED you're gonna love Megamind, but I can get that. You really should COLLECT yourself before that cinematic masterpiece," she hummed, smiling softly. "I need to get home and do some CLEANING anyway. I'm sure Al's made a grade-A shitshow."
The inside of him scrambled, in that small, feverish, desperate way that characterized his childhood, the mind scrounging for scraps that could snatch the moment back from death.
That confirmed his theory: failure and anxiety were his closest relatives to spider sense.
"Look. Cindy"—Miguel sighed as he raised a conciliatory hand then let it drop back to the ledge—"I'm not saying no just to say no. I don't...I don't do that."
How ribald, to go from mewling his praises to assuming he was self-absorbed.
"I'm just...I have a few things I need to finish—nothing personal."
As Miguel recognized this pattern of persuasion and disarmament, a blaze of irritation began its grubby-fingered climb to eclipse his helplessness. ( Godfuckingdammit! I don't have time for this. )
#spiderbyhalf#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;holiday cheer {miguel & cindy | spiderbyhalf}
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A strange lurch tugs at her chest and it TICKLES behind her eyes. She's more IMPRESSED with her ability to maintain a smile on her lips. REJECTION, even wrapped in COURTESY, would always sting--but coming from Miguel? It was a different kind of PAIN. Familiar, like common rejection, but with an added EDGE of realization that she was...SAD.
Like looking in a MIRROR, revealing how SILLY her little crush was. She couldn't look away, stunned by the CRUEL reflection meeting her gaze.
Her lips give a little purse and she climbs to her feet. She scoops up their garbage and takes a few backward steps.
"Yeah, no, it's fine. I've got things to do too," Cindy muses, smoothing her hair down her back lightly. "I'll see you LATER." Brown eyes leave his face to scan the horizon, though she suspects they may look a little BRIGHTER with a light glimmer of tears.
"Another time," she promises, turning around.
Miguel chuckled. A short pause drifted by, and his smile waned a fraction as he gave two light, playful bumps to the side of Cindy's thigh with that of his fist.
"Ahhh...Y'know, actually, I think I've bugged you enough for one evening." Good one. "We'll have to do it some other time."
He went to the ledge, where he planted his feet and bobbed by his arms, limbering himself. Flakes caught then instantly melted into the dark flicks of his hair.
"Got a few things I need to do—gotta finish coding a new protocol for Lyla. Plus, it's getting late. I'm sure Al's waiting on you."
Why did courtesy feel so dismissive?
An eyebrow subtly shifted over his frames.
" – You don't mind if I take a rain check, do you? I mean, we can always plan for another weekend...or something."
Dryness could be sorely inconvenient. He hoped that didn't sound thoughtless.
#spiderbyhalf#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;holiday cheer {miguel & cindy | spiderbyhalf}
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The WARMTH in her cheeks spread down her chest, keeping her from freezing over as a breeze tickled her nose. His snort was (admittedly) ADORABLE but she doesn't comment on it. It's just something she decides to keep locked in the chest sinking slowly into her HEART. The sands of TIME and winds of FEELINGS burying the box.
Cindy rolls her eyes playfully and gives him a little SHOVE of his shoulders. "You're such a fucking DORK," she grins. The wind picked up again, sending her delicate scent around the rooftop. She doesn't acknowledge how DELIGHTFUL it mingles with his.
She glances down at the streets below and sighs softly. "Wanna head back to my APARTMENT and get warm? Watch a movie? We can CORRECT your cinema inadequacies," she hums, a glimmer of challenge shining in her eyes.
How right she was, for Miguel was lost for a proper response, one that'd neither seem vain nor deflective. He opted for the safety of pause, wiped his mouth, and stuffed the wad of his napkin into his syrup-smeared cup. — Commitment was his strongest virtue, and though he'd spent years as a complacent cog in the rhetorical "machine," he had to relearn conscience, but it was fairly easy to come by when those in need of mercy found themselves hostage to it.
Miguel glanced up at the wafting flakes with a bright smile, in part to decorate the fact Cindy was looking at him and therefore make it worth her while, and in part because he couldn't help being ridiculous, laughing silently but prematurely at the preserving turns of his mind, the one reflex in the face of adversity or awkwardness that confirmed anything in common with the other Spiders. — Did she know he'd saved the canines his fangs evicted? How Victorian. He'd show her someday.
Smiling still, a little snort rippled from behind his nose. He dropped his head then glanced at his partner and popped the tail of his eyebrow.
"Yeah, well. At least I don't light up a room. Those always seem to be the ones who get murdered."
#spiderbyhalf#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;holiday cheer {miguel & cindy | spiderbyhalf}
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There’s a moment in the 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔,
when I feel the most 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢…
But then I hear your voice, 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒.
It’s like a wave of 𝓾𝓷𝓭𝒆𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰,
and I never could have planned it:
Where the 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 and 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕥𝕤 all fade away…
#;musings#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;midnight rain & sunshine {cindy x miguel}
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who’s afraid of little old me?
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Taylor Swift, I hate it here
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running with my dress unbuttoned
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Glancing at him through her hair and lashes, she gives a soft snort of amusement, rolling her eyes to the side. "Well, as a pathological people PLEASER with a cryptic side--" Cindy started, leaning back on her hands, kicking her legs lightly over the side of the building.
"I won't keep you GUESSING," she hummed, shaking her head before she glances off towards the city. A blush threatens to spread across her cheeks, easily played off from the COLD.
Her nose gives a little wriggle and she sighs. "You're a much better PERSON than you give yourself credit for, Migs..." At the risk of revealing more of HERSELF than she wanted to, she pressed on. "You're smart and CARING, strong and resolute...Not many people, let alone MEN, would volunteer like you are at the shelter. You take a CAUSE that you believe in and you make it your own, your PASSION. I mean--for CRYING out loud, you went with me to my ex's WEDDING. Someone who is as LOW as I think you see yourself wouldn't do that," Cindy murmured.
Finally, she takes a chance to glance at him from the corners of her eyes, a smile tweaking at the corners of her lips. "You're a GOOD man, Miguel. Own it."
At Cindy's advice, a quizzical eyebrow jumped toward Miguel's widow's peak and he tucked one side of his mouth. The sobering reminder she chose to give him time confronted certain comforts, such as: at the opposing end, he liked to maintain there was nothing anyone could remark of him, no aspersions they could cast, that could compete with or surpass his opinions of himself. To be accused of being crass or implacable, tenacious or peevishly factual, when it was something he could readily observe himself, instead of compelling reflection, invited unfashionable satisfaction. Admitting one's foibles and embracing one's oddities was a certain step towards confidence, was it not? Depriving others success in criticism, warranted or not, by being the first to admit to a trait with or without the structure of its reason, to which no one was entitled, was the basis of self-validation. To be told, or have it implied, he was a subject of review when not immediately before someone, that others could and wanted to think him without his awareness or having the power to preclude it, should've been more startling coming from someone whose opinion he'd begun to care for. It should've been more startling his behavior an hour before hadn't in any way depredated or insulted whatever notions of esteem Cindy had apparently been nursing, but his indelibly curious nature recoiled from it. It echoed of Gabriel's statements years ago that he'd never needed the suit to be the hero, he was that innately; the evenings their parents became embroiled in battle and Miguel was forced to abandon his homework or amusements to make dinner lest he and Gabriel starve. It echoed of him letting his little brother crawl into bed with him the night their father almost beat their mother to death. It most certainly echoed those evenings George went out to the bar after and his wife, bruised and weary yet, would be perched on the back porch tending her wounds with a damp-eyed smoking session and conspiratory silence, and Miguel would bring dinner to her.
"You're such a good son."
...
He'd inherited her patent incredulity, and if he weren't so repulsed by the smell, to say nothing of the health havocs, it's be reasonable and fashionable for him to light a smoke at this moment.
After a pause, not too long but not too short, Moguel scoffed and grinned—a crack of wisdom.
"Y'know, as a pedant who's strong in his faith, I'm obligated to point out that's not specific."
#spiderbyhalf#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;holiday cheer {miguel & cindy | spiderbyhalf}
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Taylor Swift, Guilty as Sin?
#;snapshots#;musings#;midnight rain & sunshine {cindy x miguel}#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#((💕💕💕))
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coming over and shedding half of my hair all over your bed and couch and everything to mark my territory
#;musings#;about: cindy moon#;midnight rain & sunshine {cindy x miguel}#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}
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Cindy just laughed and rolled her eyes. "At least I barely understand how INSTAGRAM works," she mused, taking another bite. She glances at him for a moment and wonders if he sees himself the way she does.
(Ah girl, you SOUND so so SAD right now.)
Her cheeks warm and she glances back down at her dessert, pointedly looking away from him. She has to collect her THOUGHTS so another bite she takes. Shaking her head, she leans back on one of her hands. "Excuse you--clearly I'm IMPRESSED. I don't hang out with just anybody, y'know?" She teases.
She crinkles her nose and finishes her treat, setting the garbage next to her. SNOW has begun to cling to her hat, her coat, her hair and her LASHES and she closes her eyes, breathing in the city. "You really oughta see yourself how OTHERS do, Migs." She sighs softly.
"Honestly"—With the edge of his spoon, Miguel scraped the smudge of fudge off the inside of the cup and shoved it down into the softening ice cream—"you're better off with that one. Less radiation and brain damage, socially or otherwise. Clinically proven. Seriously."
At the notion of having anything other than a bewildering or infuriating effect on anyone, he scoffed a bit more derisively than he meant to.
"Yeah, right—exactly! Impress who. As if anything I've done's ever impressed anyone. Buuuuut~...It's not for lack of trying. I just, uh...I don't get out much. How 'bout that, huh? 'O'Hara the Hermit.'"
Wrinkling his brow, Miguel held up his palm with educational emphasis.
"Alliteration."
After a few quick, pointedly childish scrapes, Miguel tossed his head back and downed the melted dregs of his dessert.
#spiderbyhalf#;built a fire just to keep me warm {spiderbyhalf}#;holiday cheer {miguel & cindy | spiderbyhalf}
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