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lovingmayday · 8 months

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#PRETENDING TO BE YOUR BF!

SYNOPSIS: you're in a sticky situation and need somebody to help you get a creepy guy away from you. are they up to the challenge? OP CHARACTERS: ZORO & SANJI WARNINGS: nicknames?

a creep had been following you around the town the strawhat crew had been visting, and nothing you said would keep him away. going into stores and diving into crowds, you hoped maybe you'd lose him, but he proved to be extremely stubborn. "like i said sir, i have a boyfriend!" you had told him for the hundreth time, but he didn't believe you. "c'mon, we both know you're lying, sweet thing. just give me a chance, yeah? i'll show you a nice time," he said, and you were just about to start yelling until you spotted--

ZORO. he had no idea you were around, as he had gone into an antique shop not too long ago to find new sword sheaths. even with his back turned towards you, you decided he was your best shot. you made a bee-line for the shop and the guy followed closely behind.

"like i said, sir, i have a boyfriend," you said, gesturing towards zoro in hopes his stature would scare the creep off. however, the pirate didn't turn around, engrossed by the sheaths and other looms in the shop.

the stranger frowned at you, clearly not believing your lie. it hurt you to have to rely on zoro, as he wasn't the brightest in times like these, but it was all or nothing.

"zoro!" you exclaimed, and he turned immediately at your voice, taking in your desperate look. "you said you would catch up with me, i've been waiting for you."

he was unsure how to respond, gulping as you latched onto his arm, and he almost expressed his concerns, but he was beat to it by the stranger.

"this is your boyfriend?" the guy asked, still a bit skeptical but intimidated nonetheless.

the pirate looked the villager up and down, trying to figure out how to react appropriately to this. no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't find an answer. however, if you had been as bold as to claim zoro as yours, he trusted you had a reason to do so.

"and who are you?" your --pretend-- boyfriend asked, guarding you with an arm as you stepped behind him, away from the stranger's much-too-curious eyes.

before the creep could answer, you decided to torment him just a bit, "i dunno, he's been following me for hours now. i was scared."

zoro's gaze hardened at that, the grip he held on his swords tightening, "is that so?"

"no! no, i'm sorry, man. i didn't know- listen, i'll leave, alright?" and as soon as the words came out of the villager's mouth, he was gone.

"sorry, zoro. he scared the shit out of me, i thought maybe i'd find sanji in the crowds somewhere to help me, but there's so many blonde people here, you have no idea."

he nodded slowly, very aware of your arms wrapped around his and your slightly trembling fingers. he took a deep breath before turning back around to sort through all the trinkets he'd found.

"it's not your fault. but, maybe we should travel in pairs from now on. i don't want another idiot bothering you until you're practically shaking."

"i am not shaking," you said, to which he sighed, gathering his items and leaving a few coins on the counter. you continued, "but you're pretty scary, y'know?"

"i would hope so, in situations like these," he gave you a lopsided grin, "but seriously, we should just travel together. i don't mind playing pretend for you."

SANJI. he was busying himself at a food market, bargaining with the poor vendor for a discount. he turned around before you even called him, having a sixth sense for your presence. he smiled widely at you, calling your name loudly.

"sanji, my darling," you cringed at your own voice, the sickly sweet nickname dropping hesitantly from your tongue, "i missed you."

the cook didn't miss a beat, "i missed you much more! what do you think, gorgeous? broccoli or cauliflower?"

"uh, both?" you said, still spotting the man now on the opposite side of the street, watching intently.

your blonde "boyfriend" nodded, turning his attention to the vendor he had previously been arguing with, "perfect, i'll get both, ma'am!"

you saw the stranger slowly come closer towards you, and you decided to take action by hugging sanji tightly.

he complimented you instantly on the perfume you were wearing, and he kept talking but your attention was fully on getting away from the stranger.

"sanji?" you whispered, suddenly interrupting what was probably a declaration of love, but it wasn't like that was a rare ocassion anyway.

"yes? i hate to ruin the moment but you're not usually this affectionate, not that i mind, i mean--"

keeping your position in his arms, you reached up to whisper in his ear, lips brushing his cheek from the proximity, "there's a guy that's been following me and i need your help."

he ignored the brush of your lips, an action he surely would've fainted for in any other circumstance. his energy shifted from a playful one to something much more urgent, "are you alright?"

you smiled at him, an assurance that you were fine, just freaked out. you moved away from him, opting to stand at his side and hold his arm.

"can you see him?" sanji asked, paying the lady for the vegetables he purchased and grabbing a hold of the bags you carried.

"yes, behind us, the guy in the blue shirt," you discretely pointed him out, sanji followed your gaze and he let out a laugh.

"him? he thinks he has a chance... with you? how sad. want me to go talk to him?"

you held sanji's gaze, considering his offer, but ultimately deciding against it. if it broke out into a street fight, you'd bring attention to the strawhats, and then you'd probably be reported to the marines.

"no, could you just..." you hesitated, focusing on the cigarette in between sanji's lips to distract yourself from the creep's stare, "pretend you're madly in love with me, or something?"

the cook took the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it to the ground, putting it out so you wouldn't be bothered by the smell of smoke, "you're making it too easy for me. guess my acting skills won't be needed this time, hm?"

#ONE PIECE BRAINROT COMING THROUGHHH

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lovingmayday · 8 months

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writers' resources

sick of using "very _____" ? : https://www.losethevery.com/

want to simplify your writing ? : https://hemingwayapp.com/

writing buddies / motivation ? : https://nanowrimo.org

word you're looking for but don't know ? : https://www.onelook.com/thesaurus/

need a fantasy name ? : https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/

need a fantasy name ? : https://nameberry.com/

want a name with meaning ? : https://www.behindthename.com/

who wants a map maker! : https://inkarnate.com/

story building / dnd ? : https://www.worldanvil.com/

need some minimalistic writing time ? : https://zenpen.io/

running out of ideas ? : https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/

setting a goal ? how about 3 pages / day ? : https://new.750words.com/

what food did they eat ? : https://www.foodtimeline.org/

questions on diversity within writing ? : https://writingwithcolor.tumblr.com/

now what was that colour called ? : https://ingridsundberg.com/2014/02/04/the-color-thesaurus/

want more? : https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lyralit :]

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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❛ 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘! ❜

it's never not nerve-wracking to finally be meeting the family or even parents of your partner. but they're spiderman. surely this is nothing.

> ♡ < : gn! reader, no physical desc of reader, fluff, meeting the parents type!! miles, gwen, pavitr

— 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. requested by anon here!! separate version for the adults (hobie(?), miguel, peter) will come soon!!!

( ☆ ) 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒.

He's sweating. Hands trembling, fingers playing with the sides of the pants he wore as he waited for you to open the front door.

Miles is nervous. But he's practiced this before — at least with Ganke and another imaginary person as your parents — it'll be fine he hopes.

"Miles!" Your cheerful face greets him from the front door, a smile spreading on his face at the sight of you.

"Hey," He pulls you into a hug, smiling and taking in your scent as he feels his beating heart calming with you near.

"Hey!" You cheer happily, excited to see him in front of you and all dressed up. "You look.. Good."

"Look at you," You playfully say with a laugh.

"Look at me." He responds, voice shaky from nerves but laughing still.

"Is that the boy?"

Miles feels the blood draining from him and leaving as soon as he sees and even hears your father speak.

"Yeah, come in," You answer, turning to face Miles and urging him to come inside the house. He's greeted by warm and bright lights all over: a few photos hung up.

"Your house is..."

He sees your father raise a brow and look over him, inspecting him and making Miles gulp in fear.

"Wonderful."

"Is it?" You reply, looking over the house and shrugging it off. "Come on, there's dinner already." You lead him to the dining room where your mother was already sat and waiting for you three.

"There you are!"

Taking your seat beside Miles, you watch your parents sit together as you all prepare to talk (no doubt about your relationship).

"So... Miles," Your mother starts to say. "Besides most likely doing unspeakable things to our child, what else do you enjoy doing?"

This was going to be a long night.

( ☆ ) 𝐆𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐘.

"Band name?"

"Mary Janes."

"Role?"

"Drummer."

Gwen countered every question your father sent her way with ease. She's prepared for this moment for so long she won't let some measly questions ruin it.

As the soothing flavors of the soup melt in her mouth, she turns to face you, raising a brow as she squeezed your hand.

Once, twice.

You okay?

Like magic, you face her, nodding your head with a smile and understanding what she's trying to convey.

"Dad can you please stop interviewing her." You sigh, groaning a bit before taking a bite out of your food.

"Why not?"

"It's dinner, not a job interview."

"Last time I checked it was one."

Gwen chuckles awkwardly a bit as she watches this back and forth banter, she's just happy your dads not exactly rejecting her. (though he's also not showing signs of acceptance).

The conversation dies down, all of you continuing to eat the meal in peace while Gwen's hand sneakily sought yours out and squeezes it.

Once, twice, thrice.

I love you.

( ☆ ) 𝐏𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐑.

"I'm Pavitr Prabhakar, 15, and I'm a great student with exceptional abilities and skills."

There stood your boyfriend. Good looking like always, adorned with a few nice little accessories here and there as he held a nice little array of flowers for you.

"Come in, come in!" Your parents, who already seemed to like him, urge him to come inside as they lead the way to the living room area.

With them out of sight, you walk closer to him, kissing his cheek.

"What's with the professional introduction?" You playfully joke.

"I have to qualify to be the best boyfriend suited for you, what else?" He kisses your temple, smiling the moment his lips touch your skin.

"Bought you some." He hands you the flowers. "Had some help with my aunt — who says hi by the way."

Taking the flowers, you smile at the familiar sight and scent: it reminded you of the time he'd taken you to a private spot in the park surrounded by nice flowers.

"Tell her hi from me too." You respond.

"So, you ready?" He asks, fixing up his clothes a bit and stretching as well.

"Why does it feel like you'll be the favourite."

"You liked me first at least."

"I definitely did."

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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❛ 𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐘𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐆𝐑! ❜

I'd like for you and I to go romancing (say the words your wish is my command). mini blurbs of them being head over heels for you (which i always post).

> ♡ < : gn! reader, no physical desc of reader, fluff. miles, gwen, hobie, margo, miguel, pavitr.

— 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. very short, just some pure happiness before i drop some heartless angst which tbf i only have like 1-2 posted ++ SEND ME BLURBS ABT THEM CUTIES!!! also mention of miles having a music hobby based from the miles morales game !!!

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 who secretly enjoys it when you forget your earphones at home because it means he gets to share his with you <3 scooting over so he can sit close to you, handing you the pair of the earbuds and just listening to music as you both rode the subway. Sometimes it'll play some of the music he made in his free time as a hobby!! Sometimes it's a song reminding him of you :)) And sometimes it's just some nice soothing silence as he pretends to yawn and (not so) sneakily raises his arms to wrap around you. "It's cold isn't it?"

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐖𝐄𝐍 who loves showing you off to every person she knows. she can literally be talking with someone about how they beat this one game last night and she'd be able to sneak you into the conversation and lowkey flaunting you around because she's just so proud of u for every little thing !!! it's impossible for anyone close to gwen to not know who you are because at this point, you're her whole world.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 carries all the bags when you both go to the mall and end up shopping. it doesn't even matter when half the stuff is heavier than he is — he will be carrying them one way or another whether you like it or not. back pain who? he can handle it! but somehow he always seems to like it more when you help him carry them. it's a small gesture, yet to him it speaks louder than anything else. he cares for you too, and he's glad to know you feel the same.

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐎 loves to tease photos of you in her social media. photos of you two hand holding, a silhouette of you two kissing — all of it is posted online yet would never show your face <3 at one pointed you noticed the pattern, wondering what made it so that in most (all) of the posts your face was never seen. margo, despite expecting this outcome, feels the familiar spike of her heart beating fast as she answers. "i just wanted to be the one to treasure that special smile you make when you look at me."

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 who begs you to please join in on his six year old daughter's tea time with him because she's on the verge of tears and want you both to be with her. you don't know whats more adorable: him having a crown on his head along with a bunch of fake accessories or his daughters smile as she laughs. eventually, you both start a small little play for gabriella starring you and miguel with the little girl asking for you both to end with a magical kiss. "We shouldn't disappoint our director now,"

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐑 absolutely adores going on dates with you. he makes sure to make it the best time for you and him <3 but to him personally his favourite one is your first date!! he remembers the sun hitting his skin as he walked around the crowded amusement park with you. it's big and he doesn't even know where to start yet somehow the moment he sees you looking around in wonder he gets the courage to lead the date!!! he's taking you around and you both end up getting lost multiple times :( but he's pretending to know the way!!! the cherry on top was when you were both up in the ferris wheel and shared your first of many kisses to come.

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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hi c:

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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You are completely enamored with Hobie Brown.

He was right across the lobby conversing with the others, throwing his head back. You could hear his unhinged laughs, loud enough to inconvenience anyone and everyone near him. His cheeks were tensed so high up he could barely keep his eyes open. You found it adorable. You found the man with his suit and mask adorned with spikes adorable. And you weren't doing much of an effort to keep it a secret, fixedly studying his each and every feature until you had him burned into the back of your mind.

His arm lands around his friend's shoulders, laughter dying down as he wipes tears from his eyes, messying his already smudged eyeliner. You notice the friend slightly wince and assume one of the spikes of Hobie's vest had poked him. You admired— adored the way he had treated everyone all the same. With the same warmth and affability that had you and many others question its unconditional authenticness. He hated consistency. His unpredictability made it difficult to trust him. But you did. Eventually.

You couldn't help the small upward motion of your lips making its way to your face. Despite being in the middle of a rather serious group debriefing. Your hand rises to cover your mouth, pretending to be deep in thought to hide the fact that you weren't paying attention.

Every aspect of his chaos connected like one big complex puzzle no one was ever meant to decipher. Nonetheless, you still tried. And you would have had the courage to finish it if it weren't for your fear of confronting him.

He had gained your reliance and you had gave him more than you had ever expected to.

You were spaced out — eyes still on him and still not listening to a word from your colleagues. Your cheeks were warm from simply staring at him. Imagine how hot it turned and how wide your eyes got when his gaze landed on yours. At the same time, your associate nudged your side.

"Y-Yes?" you manage to say, whipping your head to the group while trying to hide your flusterdness.

"What do you think? Do you want to go through with it?" he asks, slightly suspicious of your reaction. You look around the group, trying to get even the tiniest bit of context.

You gulp as you try to stutter out an answer. "Uhm, well.. It's kinda dangerous, isn't it? I mean, I-I'm sure we could find a safer..? solution...?" Your eyes expectantly studying the other's expressions for any indication of confusion, the fast thumps of your heartbeat getting quicker in suspense.

"A safer solution?.." the group head, an MJ variant, repeats slowly. "Thinking ahead and willing to take the necessary precautions to prevent the risks– I like it!" You let out a silent sigh of relief. "I'm glad you spoke up, [Name]. To be honest, I wasn't so sure either."

The frequency of your breath starts to normalize as your shoulders untense. Another one of your associates suggests to continue the meeting a different time and the majority agrees. As you start to wrap up the assembly, you felt the distracting want to rip away your focus from business once again. You just wanted to see what his handsome face looked like, you justified. As if you'd ever forget. Against your more reasonable half's better judgement, you give in and throw him a short glance. It would only be like 0.5 seconds. He wouldn't even notice, you justified once again.

Your face starts to heat up again when you eyes land on his — already looking at your direction. His friends seemed to have already left but you couldn't check to make sure, too frozen to look away. He was smirking to himself, leaning his elbows back against the railing on one of the many glass bridges in HQ. His grin widens when he sees you try to hide how flushed you were, forcing yourself to tear your gaze off him and nodding to whatever the conversation had arrived to.

It wasn't uncommon for Hobie to reciprocate your unintentional advances — he has done so more often than naught. Sometimes he'd take your stubbornness for banter and play along with you, then you'd find out when he'd make a confusing, out-of-place remark that leaves you absolutely flushed. He was so irrevocably infuriating.

"Thank you, everyone, for your input," MJ says, handing each of you smiles of gratitude. She expected the bunch to disperse but they didn't, you didn't either. "What do you expect me to say? Meeting adjourned?" She and a few others laugh as the awkwardness disappears. They leave.

You thanked her as well as you started to walk backwards — to be well on you way. But you feel yourself bump into someone, their hands on both your shoulders instantly before you had time to process who it was.

"You won't mind much if I steal her now, right?" A low and silvery voice asks — Hobie's voice. You've replayed it in your head far too many times to doubt it. You look up a bit to see him smirking down, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Hobie," MJ greets, her playful gaze flickering back and forth between you two. She raises both her hands in surrender, "She's all yours." She turns to take off.

He smirks and leans his head down beside yours, lips right by your ear. "I know."

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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single file line please

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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i want to start writing for miles 🥹

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lovingmayday · 9 months

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— when the dam breaks

contains: 42!miles’ pov, no reader, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3

The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.

Today, Miles was not in the back of the class.

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda. A partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and two more names were drawn. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, scooped his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sat in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to the left behind him caught his attention, and it belonged to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching onto Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was usually always quiet in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who had just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully pushed his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just been given wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps and quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it had he even jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist and knocked Ethan to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at same time, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked Miles up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best they could do after Rio swallowed her pride and had to go as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, he didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling. He was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked, what he’d done. As the wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school, was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy: desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it—a nuisance, was even being allowed to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him, as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now. But his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen—dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of her disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad…

And the dam broke. Though it wasn’t very strong to begin with— as Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten, the sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me, sin retenerlo, ¿recuerdas?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own self-guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.

“We’re going to be okay.”

#THIS WAS WRITTEN SO AMAZINGLY WELL #IM CRYING 😭😭#milessss :((

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lovingmayday · 9 months

Text

— closer

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend’s arms are your favorite place to be. so much so that you wish you could be even closer to him than humanly possible. wc: 505

You were one hundred percent certain you had never loved someone to the extent you loved your boyfriend, Miles.

Simply being in his arms was enough to turn your day into a perfect one; the sound of his voice enough to calm you down and make you forget every worry that plagued your mind.

Your feelings for him ran so deep that it corroded your thoughts into a blurred haze of him; made you crave his company like you would food, and made you want to be as close to him as possible.

Impossibly close.

As the two of you laid in his bed together after studying for your upcoming world history test, the movie Friday playing on his tv screen, you found yourself continuously scooting more and more into his arms, as if the toned barrier of his chest would allow you to snuggle in any closer.

Anytime so much as him inhaling moved his arms a smidge from where they were caged around you, you were shifting your position to make up for lost contact and Miles was slowly forgetting what it felt like to breathe properly.

First you were little spoon, then a few minutes later you turned towards him to hug him, threw your leg over his hip and cuddled that way, and now you were in the process of straddling his lap so you could lay on top of him.

Miles had managed to maintain his patience for the entirety of your restlessness, and every time you adjusted yourself he did as well to make sure you were comfortable. But your bonnet just happened to fluff out over his face and block his view of the tv when you plopped down, causing him to miss one of the funniest scenes in the entire movie and he couldn’t help the exasperated huff that escaped him.

“Baby, I love you, but you’re killing me. What’s the matter?”

“I want to be closer to you.” you answered with a pout.

Confused, he let his brow raise while his hand rubbed up and down the dip of your back. “Haven’t I been holding you this whole time?”

“It’s still not close enough!” you whined your complaint like a bratty child would, then lifted his shirt so you could shove your head and as much of your body under it as you could. His skin was warm against your cheek and you felt the vibration of a laugh rumbling through his chest at your antics.

“Are you satisfied now that you’ve stretched my brand new white tee out?”

“No.”

A distant laugh sounded from the living room, belonging to Rio who was currently perched on the couch watching something on the TV.

“I don’t think it can get much closer than this, cariño. For my safety, and yours.” He reached over you to grab the remote, rewinding the movie a little to rewatch the scene he missed while you sighed defeatedly.

“I wish I could just crawl into your skin and live there instead.”

“YOU WHAT!?”

#“i wish i could crawl into your skin and live there” REAL #i love miles

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lovingmayday · 9 months

Text

drunk under the streetlights (and the nightsky)

♡ they've drunk a drink too many than they could take: their minds are a mess, their hearts are ablaze, yet somehow in the hectic mess you're a constant within them.

♡ gn! reader, no physical desc of reader, fluff, drunk characters, alcohol/drinks (mostly just mentions of them drinking and not an actual scene)

— ain's notes. hiii first off thanks to @boobabietch for helping me w some translations on miguels part <33 will definitely come back to you for more translations in the future if u dont mind :D second is i have no idea what hobies exact age is or if he even is 21 😭😭?? p sure that's the legal drinking age in america so i aged him up a bit (he looks 19 or even 18 at most) bcs i don't want underage drinking which is obvs v bad 😞😞

hobie brown

It wasn't everyday you see Hobie Brown on your doorstep. It wasn't everyday you see Hobie brown swaying a bit and using the walls on the side as support as his mind felt dizzy and lightheaded.

It wasn't everyday you see Hobie Brown, looking at you with a lopsided grin on his face as he looks at you.

"Drunk." Was all the explanation he offers, but you know it's a silent request from him — a request for you to take care of him in moments like these where he couldn't.

Helping him inside and basically dropping him into the couch, you move to give him a glass of water and hopefully help sober him up.

"Drink."

"Alr'dy drunk s'much —"

His words are slurred as he spoke, muffled by the cushions of the couch before you force him to sit up since you're having trouble understanding him with his face pressed against the couch.

"Drink." You repeat. Happy when he finally gives in and grabs the cup, downing it all.

He's adorable, really. Staring up at the ceiling with a peaceful and calm expression as his mind raced and he forced himself to sober up before he did something stupid.

"Ever mention you're gorgeous?" He suddenly says, his lips parting before his head turns to face you, his eyes trained on you.

"Is this the drunk you speaking?" You ask, laughing a bit and shifting a bit to face your boyfriend properly.

"No." He answers immediately, shaking his head then burying his head on the crook of your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses against your skin as his warm breath tickles you.

You shiver a bit with every press of his lips against you though you don't stop him or even try to pull away. You pull him closer — he shifts closer so he's completely pressed against you.

"I like drunk clingy Hobie." You comment with a laugh, your thumb rubbing circles against his back as he continued pressing gentle kisses around your neck.

"He loves you too."

miguel o'hara

translations: que bonita eres - you're beautiful / te amo - i love you.

Miguel sighs. As he sat on the seat, head thrown back as he felt the fatigue creep up on him: he's really starting to feel the regret course through his veins. Why did he have to give in to the idea of drinking?

"Thank you," Miguel says, opening his eyes to see you — his closest friend. The one he knew he can rely on and trust. He doesn't think he could've made it back home without your help.

"It's fine." You sit to the chair on the opposite side of his, looking up at him and noticing how disheveled his hair was more than usual, and how his clothes were more wrinkly and crumpled.

"You gonna be okay alone?"

He let's out a hum — or maybe a grunt? You're not sure, eitherway he's trying to tell you he'll be okay. Yet somehow you don't leave. Somehow you stare into his eyes, and maybe your eyes were tricking you, but he's staring into yours too.

Silence encompasses the both of you, seconds pass, the clock ticks: and yet it's just you and him in this small dark room lit up by one lamp in the corner.

And yet somehow it's just you and him that exist in this moment.

"Que bonita eres." Miguel starts to say, his hands, lightly shaking, come up to caress your cheeks.

You're stunned, surprised at his words, surprised with his actions; yet somehow you don't move away when he says those words, not when his skin presses against yours, and not when he looks at you with so much love.

"Te amo."

peter b parker

"This was not a good idea."

Peter huffed as you helped him walk. His mind is spinning and he's feeling really dizzy. Getting 'loose' and drinking probably more than what he should've been was already a horrible idea from the start.

"Thanks again." He sighs, looking at you through his blurry vision, though he tries to force himself to sober up. (which clearly isn't working).

"What were you even thinking?" You groan, carrying him up as you walked to his apartment, glad you're getting close to the building.

"I wasn't —"

"That's the problem: you weren't."

He doesn't answer, only trying to walk without falling down and bringing you with him. But even that fails as he falls face flat on some grass with a grunt, bringing you down with him with ease.

He grumbles a bit before pushing himself so he's no longer facing the grass but instead looking up.

"Seriously?" You sigh in annoyance, though you eventually look up at the night sky, admiring the stars.

"Don't remember it being this nice." You mutter beneath your breath, though surprisingly, Peter catches your mumbling.

"Me too."

Both of you lie on the ground, the cold whispers of the air hitting your faces as you and him admire the world for just a moment.

You don't notice the look Peter is giving you as he stares at you, you don't even notice how his gaze drifted from the sky to you.

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah.. It is."

You were his world.

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lovingmayday · 9 months

Text

best (boy)friend!

♡ when running into an old friend with them, you accidentally introduce them as your best friend, completely forgetting for a moment they're your partner.

♡ gn! reader, no physical desc of reader, fluff, petty chars, all male characters here, like ONE use of (y/n) and that's it

— ain's notes. hii i wrote this while i was very tired, tried my best to finish this within 2 days and did it !!! requested by @/rainbowstar also i went from having a hard time writing for hobie to enjoying writing for him

miles morales

"Sorry, I thought I was your best friend." Miles huffs, walking behind you, his brows furrowed as his arms raise in a defensive stance.

"It was an accident."

"Thoughts are reflection of the soul." He replies quickly, still following you as you both walked to the café.

"I thought those were the eyes?" You raise a brow, turning to face him only for him to avoid looking at you by facing the side.

He was very petty and it was obvious he won't be letting you go so easily.

Walking over to him, your arms wrap around his, your lips placing a kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry," You sigh. "It was really an accident."

"And who says you can't be my best friend and boyfriend at the same time? It makes you cooler and better." You add, watching as he bit his lip slightly and took in your words.

"Maybe." He sighs, facing you and nodding his head. "I wasn't upset — not really at least." He tells you. "It just.. I thought you were ashamed of us."

"Why would I be ashamed of us?" Your hands come up to cup his face, lightly squeezing his cheeks. "You're the best thing that happened to me."

Miles sighs, a hand coming up to rest on top of yours. "I know," His thumbs caresses the back of your hand. "Just couldn't stop the thought."

He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you. "Love you."

"Love you too."

hobie brown

Hobie raises a brow. Best friend. The words echo in his mind as he watches you talk with an old friend.

His eyes rake over your form. He's ready to step in if it's needed though based off of your relaxed posture he's sure it's not necessary.

"— hobie?" You call for him, turning to face him and noticing he seems spaced out.

"Hm?"

"You okay? With him joining us?" You ask, looking up at him. "It's just for getting lunch don't worry." You add, assuring him with a small smile.

Hobie smiles, nodding his head. "Sounds good." He responds as he looks over to the other boy, seeing his eyes stuck to you.

"Alright, I forgot something in the store and we'll go grab a bite." You mention before heading back to the store, leaving Hobie and the other boy alone.

"So.. They dating someone?" The boy — Harry? Jerry? Hobie honestly forgot by this point — shamelessly asks.

Hobie stares at him, hands in the pocket of his vest as he looks him over. He smirks, his lips forming a small smile.

"Nah." He responds, raising a brow. "You gonna take your chance?" He asks.

"Yeah.." Harry (or jerry?) answers, a small and excited smile forming on his lips, he watches you through the glass purchasing something.

Hobies face falls a bit though he chuckles, noticing you about to leave the store. He walks closer to the other man, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's make a deal 'ere mate," Hobie says, a slight serious expression on his face as the other man seems a bit intimidated at the sudden change.

"You stay away from my (y/n), we stay good, clear?" He finishes, pulling away and returning his hands to his pockets and not giving the other man a chance to reply before you're coming out the store and calling out to them.

"You got everything you need?" Hobie asks, arms wrapping around your waist as you and him begin walking away, leaving behind a speechless Jerry (or Harry?).

miguel o'hara

"Boyfriend." Miguel doesn't hesitate to correct your words, his arms immediately coming up to wrap around you as he stares at your friend.

"What?" Your friend asks, a bit surprised and taken aback.

"Boyfriend." He repeats, not sure why they're having trouble understanding what seems to ne a simple and concise word.

Eventually, they nod and leave awkwardly, waving you goodbye and leaving you very confused with what just went on.

You face him, crossing your arms. "What was that for?" You ask.

"What was what for?" He replies, not understanding what you're referring to, but you doubt that fact.

You roll your eyes at his feign of innocence. "I thought you might've appreciated me not saying a thing about us." You sigh.

"With you probably preferring to keep things private and all that." You add.

He sighs, his hands coming up to rub the space between his eyebrows as he thought, he'd honestly prefer doing this at a much private setting but he supposes no ones listening in.

"I'm not used to us." He admits, his voice a bit hesitant and unsure but still clear and concise as he spoke. "But I want to." He adds, sounding more determined.

"I want people to know I'm with you, that I'm happy." He adds with a sigh, his arms on his hips as he looks down on the ground.

"We don't need other people to know about us," You assure him. "But if it's what you want, I'll start introducing you as my boyfriend, sound good?"

"Yeah, good."

peter b. parker

"Peter?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you change my contact name to 'best friend'?" You ask, staring at the new contact name he'd set up for you.

He hums for a bit before returning his eyes to his laptop. "Sorry, I seem to forget the two at the end: Best friend 2."

You sigh, handing him back the phone. "Are you seriously upset about earlier?" You ask almost teasingly.

"I don't know, are you upset with the contact?" He replies.

You roll your eyes, groaning a bit. "It's not like that," You hug him from behind. "You know I love you right? I'll never be ashamed of you."

"What happened —"

"What happened earlier was just an accident." You immediately say, not letting him finish his words. You press a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, I'm just getting used to you being my boyfriend still."

"You got too used to calling me your best friend?" He raises a brow, pulling you close so that you're sitting close to him.

"If you'd like to say it that way." You shrug your shoulders, though surprise overtakes your features at his next words.

"Practice it to me."

"Like — introducing you as my boyfriend — right now?"

"Yes, like right now."

#THIS IS SO CUTEE #MILES MY BABYY 😭😭#I LOVED THIS SM

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lovingmayday · 9 months

Text

Black Excellence.

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lovingmayday · 10 months

Text

You are completely enamored with Hobie Brown.

He had gained your reliance and you had gave him more than you had ever expected to.

"Y-Yes?" you manage to say, whipping your head to the group while trying to hide your flusterdness.

"What do you think? Do you want to go through with it?" he asks, slightly suspicious of your reaction. You look around the group, trying to get even the tiniest bit of context.

"Hobie," MJ greets, her playful gaze flickering back and forth between you two. She raises both her hands in surrender, "She's all yours." She turns to take off.

He smirks and leans his head down beside yours, lips right by your ear. "I know."

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #hobie #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spider punk #hobie fluff #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie x you #hobie x y/n

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