#i really just need to make this a proper fic
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find comfort in you — trent a.
A/N: it took me a week to be able to write this so im sorry to be posting it on a happy sunday lmao 😵💫 a proper trent fic is coming soon please be patient with meee
In the six months you’ve been together, you’ve seen Trent crying once: when Klopp announced his decision.
Since then, you’ve been dreading this day. The final game, when Trent would have to say goodbye to one of the most important men of his life.
When all the celebrations ended and the player’s family entered the pitch, you sat and waited. Trent is very reserved, and you’re even more reserved than him.
Since day one, the agreement was not dragging attention to the relationship, which means you hadn’t been officialised to the rest of the world yet.
It was never a problem to you, not wanting to have people stalking you around or commenting weird things on your socials. But in moments like these you wish Trent were a normal guy.
You wish you could just go there and share the moment with him and his family, supporting him and telling him how proud you were. How strong he was.
But your choices needed some sacrifices, so you kept watching the lap of honour as a normal fan, smiling to the view of your boyfriend holding Aura, so happy and comfortable in her uncle’s arms.
Having seeing him crying earlier during Klopp’s speech had broken your heart, but you knew it was coming. Even though the rest of the world doesn’t know how much, Trent is a sensitive guy, and the end of this era — the only era he has known in his professional career — really affected him.
You agreed to meet them in the parking lot, so when Marcel waved for you it was your signal to leave.
Patiently waiting next to Trent’s car, you instantly noticed how his mood had changed since the last time you checked on him on the pitch.
When no one’s watching, is when your boy shows how he’s actually feeling.
“Are you coming home with me?” was the first thing he said, but instead of teasing and saying something like ‘good night to you too’, you chose to cup his face and stroke his cheeks.
“I think your mum was thinking about staying with you, she was telling me about what she’ll cook” you told him softly, your heart hammering in your chest when he leaned on your touch.
“I asked her not to. Just for tonight, I need to be alone” Trent squeezed your waist, sighing. You nodded, since you imagined that he’d want some space after the draining day.
“That’s ok babe” you stroked his chin. “Can you drop me home?”
“No” he shook his head and opened his eyes, his pleading eyes immediately finding yours. “I need to be alone with you. Can you come?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course” you felt your heart tightening with worry. “What do you want for dinner? We can have a takeaway”
“I don’t feel like eating” he mumbled, playing with the hem of your Liverpool shirt. “I just wanna cuddle and sleep”
It was your turn to sigh, but you kept stroking his cheek to give him some comfort. “Trent…”
“You can make me breakfast tomorrow” he shrugged, and you knew the subject was over for him.
“Do you want me to drive?” you asked him, ignoring the dinner topic for a while. When he nodded, you pecked his lips and walked to the driver’s side.
You drove quietly, scratching Trent’s scalp at every traffic light and smiling at his little pout.
It didn’t take long to get on his porch, and soon you were turning off the engine. Trent jumped out of the car and ran to open your door for you, making you smile.
Holding hands, you entered his house with him and Trent sighed at the warmth of his safe space.
Once you were in his room, you let go of his hand to open his wardrobe.
“You can shower first” you told him, wanting your boyfriend to have a relaxing time whilst you got to tidy his room. You love Trent, but on a daily basis he’s a messy guy and there’s nothing you can do about it.
He nodded without enthusiasm, accepting the towel you grabbed for him and walking to the bathroom.
Knowing Trent you knew it was going to be a long shower, so you got to work. Changing the bed sheets, putting his clothes in the laundry, opening the bedroom’s window and preparing a snack for him, soon you were back in his room.
Placing the sandwich and the cup of tea on his side table, and looked for the pyjama you’re always leaving there for moments like these.
When he got out, Trent frowned at the plate on the table, but you didn’t give him time to complain, quickly kissing his cheek and entering the bathroom.
Coming back to his bedroom, you were welcomed with the sight of Trent still sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. His tired and puffy eyes looked back at you when you got closer and leaned to peck his lips, happy to see that the plate you brought him was empty.
“Ready to knock out?” you murmured, scratching his scalp. Instead of answering, he grabbed the hoodie next to him and handed it to you.
“It’s cold tonight and we know I’ll steal the blanket” he murmured, giving you a shy smile
Giggling, you wore the hoodie before climbing in bed. Cold or not, Trent’s bedroom was acclimated and he could easily make the room warm, but you know how much he liked seeing you in his clothes and after a day like the one he had you think you boy deserves the little happinesses.
When your boyfriend crawled behind you, you let him lay in bed before laying on top of him and tucking your head into his neck, sighing when his hand started to stroke your lower back gently.
In the past six months you quickly found out that cuddling with Trent was one of the best parts of your relationship. His strong arms made you feel safe and it never took you long to sleep with the comforting warmth that irradiates from him.
“Thank you for staying with me tonight” he murmured, and you instantly pulled back to look at him.
“Always. Are you ok, though?” you gently stroked his cheek, brushing away a few tears that you know he tried to hold, without success.
“I’m gonna be” he murmured, kissing your nose. “We’re all gonna be alright. But I was thinking…”
“Mm?” you gently poked his nose, waiting for him to talk.
“You should come live with me” he said casually, biting a smile. “If I’m not seeing Klopp everyday I think I should be able to see you everyday”
“You’re comparing me to Klopp?” you raised an eyebrow.
Trent smiled softly and shrugged, and it was crazy how you could make him feel better even after the intense and emotional day he had.
“I mean, both are family”
You rolled your eyes with a pretending disbelief.
“I’m surprised you never tried to move in with him, Trent”
“I did” he mumbled, making you laugh loudly. “Ulla said no”
“I’m Klopp’s replacement then” you mocked, playfully biting his jaw.
Your boyfriend shook his head, now looking at you seriously. “You’re not a replacement. I just think the time is right but I understand if you think it’s too soon”
“I know baby” you kissed his cheek, smiling he caresses your back beneath the hoodie and your shirt. “I’ll move in with you if you learn how to clean your room”
Trent eagerly nodded, hugging your waist tighter and pecking your lips.
“Deal. I’ll clean it everyday after training”
“We know you can’t clean it everyday, not even if your life depended on it, Trent” you chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder.
“But you’ll move anyways” he brushed his nose on your hair. Trent always says how much he loves the smell of your hair products, and you think it’s cute how he pays attention to that, even complaining when you use a different one.
“I will” you kissed his neck. “I’d do anything to be closer to you”
Tangling your legs together, your boyfriend yawned before readjusting your body on top of his so you could both be more comfortable.
“I wish Klopp felt the same” Trent jokingly sighed, making you both laugh.
You know he’ll cry when you’re asleep. You know there’s a maximum amount of comfort you can offer.
But you also know that Trent will feel better if he can cry holding you; for him, your presence is already enough. You know he’ll wake up with puffy eyes and a tired expression, but he’ll get up and look for you in the kitchen.
He’ll give you a softly smile and hug you, giving your face little kisses until you start to giggle and push him away. He’ll sit and wait for you to finish coffee, and then bring you to sit on his lap.
Trent knows that tonight something was taken away from him, and that the future is uncertain, but he has you. And you, he’s sure, are his only certainty.
#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander x you#trent alexander x reader#trent alexander fanfic#trent alexander imagines
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The Tickle Mobster (Piofiore)
Did I love Nicola's route? Meh. Does this man radiate Ler energy without trying? Absolutely.
Heyo everyone! Today I bring you Nicola Francesca of Piofiore for a fic because this man just NEEDS one! Just- look at him! I don't really have much to say for this beyond thank you for letting me be self indulgent with these fics akjrkjearjke I hope you enjoy!
Summary: Nicola decides to mess with Lili. That's it- that's the fic.
Nicola poked his head around the corner of the salon, eyes finding his dear beloved sitting by with a book. She was a picture of calm, blond hair tossed in a loose braid over her shoulder and cheeks flushed with happiness. The characters in her story must be endearing to have such attention.
Anyone else would likely feel bad for distracting her from such a sight.
Alas, he was a criminal, and criminals rarely feel bad for disturbing the peace.
Creeping over to her, he raised his arms, fingers wiggling with devious intent as he went to surprise her. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to hear her squeals-
“Hello, Nicola.”
He froze, just inches from her now. “Oh, hello Lili. How’d you know I was here?”
“You’re getting predictable, dear.” She didn’t look at him, but he could see her smile growing. “You always come by to play tricks on me whenever I’m at the salon. What was it last time- an ice cube down my dress? And the time before that- you were sneaking flowers in my hair without me knowing.”
“Those were good tricks!” He argued, fighting off a laugh at the shriek she let out at his chilly prank. “And your hair looked stunning with the flowers in it.”
“Hm.” She merely shrugged one of her delicate shoulders, flipping a page in her book. Oh that does it!
“Why you- come here!” He wrapped her up in his arms from behind, making her yelp and drop her book. “I’ll show you what happens when you dismiss me so!”
“What are you-ah! Aheahhahhaa, nohohohohoho! Nihihihihcolahhahhaha!” Lili let out a squeal of mirth as his hands attacked her sides, dancing along her ribs. “Whahahahait it tihihiihihckles!”
“Does it now? I never would have guessed.” Feeling extra bold, he leaned in- gently nibbling on her earlobe. That earned him a proper squeal. “What, does it tickle too much? Hmm? Is my adorable Lili too ticklish for her own good?”
“Nihihihihcola! Aheahahhaha- whoahahaha!” She yelped when he released her, sending her tumbling onto her side. Second later he vaulted over the couch, properly pinning her beneath him as he carried on scratching at her stomach and ribs. “Aheahhahaha, nohohohoho fahahhahahair! Nohohohohoo fahhhahahair!”
“Yes fair! I just wanna hear you laugh, is that so much to ask?” He cooed in her neck, continuing his gentle bites and nuzzles as his hands danced across the various tickle spots along her torso. Lili could only thrash and cackle, her hands slapping at his shoulders as she kicked her feet against the cushions. “Such a pretty sound~”
“Aheahhahahhha! Iiihihihf you lihihihihke lauhuhuhuhughing soohohoho muhuhuhuch, thahahahake thihihihihs!” She cried, switching gears from defending to fighting back. With a burst of strength, she shot her hands out to his sides, grabbing and squeezing.
Unfortunately...
“Sorry, love. I’m not ticklish.” Nicola winked at her, much to her shock.
“Wahahahit wahahahit tihihime ohoho-OHOOHOHOHUT!” She cried when he went back to tickling her, focusing his efforts onto the bad spots along her hips. “TIIHIHME OHOHOHUT PLEHAHAHAHSE!”
“Hmm..okay.” Nicola paused, watching her gasp for air beneath him. “Lemme know when you’re ready.”
“Eh..ehehehe..heeh…” She ran a hand over her messy hair, pushing it out of her flushed face as she glared weakly up at him. “Thehehere’s no whahhay you’re not ticklish! Everyone is!”
“Sorry, but I’m afraid I’m the exception.” He leaned into his fist with a boyish grin, his other hand coming up to trace her cheek. “You can ask anyone here and they’ll tell you it’s true.”
“I bet Dante knows the truth.”
“Oh he wishes. It’d probably make him feel better given how many times I’ve tickled him.” He laughed softly, something nostalgic in his voice. Lili felt her heart melt at the thought of them so close.
Alas, she needed to focus! “Can I check?”
“With him? No way. You're all mine.” He winked at her, making her flush.
“No, can I tickle you! I want to see for myself if you’re seriously not ticklish!” She puffed, determined. Nicola’s eyes widened some before he chuckled, warmth in his expression.
“So stubborn. Alright- but just know; for every tickle you give me, I’m gonna give you back tenfold.” He climbed off of her, laying back on the sofa as she switched their positions. “It really is a wasted effort, Lili. Don’t cry if you can’t make me laugh.”
“Hush, I won’t.” She waved him off, getting comfortable as she debated where to even begin. Nicola was a picture of serene, arms tucked behind his head and ankles crossed. He was looking at her so lovingly she nearly forgot what she was doing.
“Stop, you’re distracting me!” She blushed, looking away.
“Nah, I love seeing you blush. It’s beautiful.” He teased, making said act darken.
“You’re so mean! Fine, take this!” Anticipation was useless here. She reached out and prodded at his armpits. Then she tapped into his upper ribs. Then swept a few fingers into his neck and chin.
Nothing. Nicola just laid there. The chin scritches did make him arch some with a purr, but she was sure it was just him enjoying them more than anything. She dropped her hands lower, squeezing his lower ribs and sides with little success. She then prodded at his belly, but the event led to nothing. At some point, she started jabbing at his chest.
“Whoa, careful now. You might just get me excited.” He grinned up at her, watching her squeak and pull her hands back flustered. “Just kidding! Hehehe.”
“Hmmmph!” With a huff, she nearly gave up. She dared a little lower, squeezing along his hips with no success. “You really aren’t ticklish, huh?”
“Nope.” He pulled her down soon after, trapping her against his chest as he got ready to tickle her once more. “Now, where were we-”
Footsteps came, followed by a small yelp and someone clearing their throat. “S-Scusi.” A flustered Dante apologized, cheeks on fire as he turned towards the door. “I’ll have this in my office-”
“Dante!” Lili quickly sat up, pushing her mortification at the misunderstanding aside for this golden opportunity. “Dante, hang on- where is Nicola ticklish?”
“I told her already, I’m not ticklish.” The underboss was quick to interject. In that moment, Lili was sure she heard a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Enjoy your cafe latte, Dante!”
“Don’t go! Tell me!”
“Really, we’re fine over here.”
“Hush!”
“How cruel!”
Dante sighed, holding his brow as he turned to look at the pair. “As Nicola said, he’s not ticklish. Best to believe him.”
Lili felt her heart sink, disappointment slumping her shoulders. Nicola patted her hand gently as Dante began to leave once more.
Only then did he pause, looking back into the room. “His back and knees were bad when we were kids though.” He gave a rare cheeky grin before scurrying away, Nicola’s curses following him out.
“Dante you son of a- I’ll get you back!” Nicola called after him in betrayal, arching some when Lili slipped her hands beneath him, curling her fingers.
“Your back, huh? What luck- I’m in the perfect spot to reach it.” With a sweet little kiss to his cheek, she rapidly began curling her fingers against the spot, delighted as he began to crumble in mirth. ‘Now, let me show you how it feels to be tricked!”
Thanks for reading!
#piofiore#tickle#tickle fic#squiggily writes the things#fluff#nicola francesca#liliana adornato#he laughs like a dolphin change my mind#squiggily's self indulgent hours ajkekrjajkrkjaerjk
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Okay, idk if it's possible but... put your playlist on shuffle. Skip the first song. Write down the three following songs and write a scene that connects these three with each other.
ok anon forgive me but i skipped the first two songs bc the song that played next was 'shit' by bo burnham and i just couldn't - i hope you dont mind the pairing but this screamed 1 thing to me
You're Somebody Else - flora cash
Who We Are - Hozier
Cruel - Jackson Wang
Gumpa didn't know why he fucking agreed to this. He should've told the boys about their past, should have warned them that this could all go south so fucking quickly. No, instead he had laughed softly, nervous but they didn't know the difference, and nodded slowly. Maybe part of him had craved a reason to do this, had sought out any connection he could have again.
So here he was, staring into his mirror and making sure his hair was styled, his shirt was buttoned, his slacks hugged his legs just right, and that everything was in place. It'd been... so long since he'd taken the time to get ready like this, since he'd put on anything other than coveralls that smelled faintly of motor oil and cheap detergent. He wore jewelry, cologne, hair product, everything he'd nearly forgotten in his years shambling around this junkyard turned refuge.
He pulled in a deep, steadying breath before stepping out in the main bay, immediately assaulted with choked sounds of surprise.
"Holy shit, hia!" Yok exclaimed from the couch, instantly sitting up on his knees as Gram fumbled with his drink and set it on the table.
"Hia, what the fuck?" Not-Black spoke from his spot on the back of the couch and instantly Gumpa tugged at one of his rolled up sleeves, wondering if he'd made the wrong choice in outfit.
"Does it look bad?" He laughed as if that fact wouldn't bother him, wouldn't send him spiraling. Maybe he didn't look like he remembered, maybe he-
"Fuck off, you're hot hia." Gram spoke up, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.
Gumpa was never more grateful he wasn't much of a blusher, though the praise still left a warm sensation in his chest.
"There's no way Techit will be able to resist you." Sean grinned, ever focused on the mission at hand, which was important because Gumpa definitely was not operating on all cylinders right now.
"Just remember the plan, once I have him distracted go in and get the evidence you need." He sighed, adjusting his sleeve again before forcing his hands into his pockets. He had to stop fucking fussing.
He took his motorcycle, abandoning all attempts at subtlety - but that was the point, wasn't it? He drove close, a little too close to the warehouse, too close for the guards comfort if the way they corralled him was any indication. And there was Techit, perfect. He'd been worried Techit would delegate and push the confrontation on someone else. He didn't know who he was anymore, after all.
He removed his helmet and shook out his hair, taking small pleasure in the slight hitch in Techit's step at the sight of him.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Already his hand was on the gun at his hip. That wouldn't do.
"Going for a late night ride, is there a problem?" Gumpa wondered as he swung one leg over the now secured bike and leaned his weight against the seat, appearing for all the world as if he didn't care if Techit was here. He cared, he cared so much.
"Sounds fucking convenient." Techit inched closer, but didn't adjust or remove his hand from the gun. "What are you really doing here, Gumpa?"
"I just told you, Tech." His eyes flit down to the gun, though he let his eyes roam slowly back up, across the opening of his shirt, across the chest tattoo he remembered Techit getting when they were twenty five and too drunk to make sense of anything, across the jaw he remembered scraping his teeth over, and eyes he remembered looking at him with what he had once thought was love.
"You don't get to call me that anymore." Techit snarled but it accomplished what Gumpa wanted, his hand removed from the gun and instead wrapped around Gumpa's neck, just beneath his jaw, just the way he'd liked back then. "What. The Fuck. Are You. Doing Here." He punctuated each set of words with the slightest squeeze that had Gumpa fighting to keep his eyes from fluttering backwards in his skull.
"Going on a ride, we used to enjoy riding together, remember?" He smirked, felt the way Techit's hand tightened and felt the heat of him as he stepped closer. His body remembered the sensation, the warmth of them pressed together for hours. He dropped his gaze again, watching the rhythmic pulse in Techit's neck. It would be so easy to drop his head and press his lips to that fluttering flesh, to tease and leave a mark as he used to.
"Used to. Not anymore." Techit was waning, watching Gumpa watch him, and Gumpa smirked as Techit wet his lips and pulled away just slightly. "Are you armed?"
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He dropped his voice to an almost whisper, watching Tech shiver at the gravel the lower tone gave him.
Multiple emotions warred on Techit's face for a long, drawn out moment and Gumpa knew it was the time to strike.
"I miss you, Tech, miss us. I guess I just wanted a reminder of what it was like. Don't you ever think about it?" He hooked his finger into the waistband of Techit's trousers, heard the sharp hiss of his breath, and he knew he'd won.
He just hoped the boys accomplished their goal. It had to be worth it for the way the wound on his heart would reopen and ache.
#anon my beloved#bunn writes#techitgumpa#not me the series#not me#GOD I LOVE THEM#i really just need to make this a proper fic#i have so many thoughts
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I wanna imagine a demon asking asmo what mc likes cause theyre interested in them
I think he'd sabotage them on purpose by convincing them they arent MCs type (whether thats true or not) or giving them misinformation
#And uk hes trying to act innocent and cute about it like he didnt just crush someones hopes#How mc gonna get ass like this? 🙄#Lol but seriously mc wont even know that person was interested in them#Ud think he wouldnt have to do that since hes the 'most beautiful being in existence'#And id like to unpack that on my endless rant about how asmos jealousy and insecurities manifests in a way#Where he needs to bend situations to his liking instead of just processing and accepting like a well adjusted person#And him having that strong of an ability to charm people is so not fair ahajajs#An mc that hates him and makes it known would probably drive him nuts#*walks back and forth in my empty room while talking to the walls*#If there were proper routes i think wed get to see amazing character development!#Ive seen fics touch on this before and i love fandom for this#Belphies route would be so cool too#But im not trying to get off topic#ANYWAYS Asmo trying to charm mc without thinking when they have a disagreement#Mc is like 'really dude? 😠'#Asmo: oopsie#This would be a (possible) scene in the asmo route that exists in my head#Obey me#obey me asmodeus#obey me nb#Anyways this is just my speculation#I could be off my word isnt law or anything
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fuck
i need to stop reading fanfics, i'm going to go insane at this rate.
anyway my knees are going weak at Ineffable Bloom by yomogi_mogi_mochi (I'm just gonna call them yomogi) cause like FUCK ok first of all, if you are interested in reading my ramble and then the fic, there's talks of like, hanahaki, emotional abuse, so careful about that.
next, i will say this fic has a lot left to be desired in terms of the technical side of writing (a few grammatical errors, for example (they misspelled Mostro but not even like Monstro, it gets farther from that to the point it's kinda funny)). but like. that ain't important because THIS FIC HAS SO MANY GOOD POINTS
I absolutely love how they depict MC as a childhood friend to the Octa trio and not only that but how they affect the Octa trio. They are notably much softer than their canon selves, but in a way that makes sense and it's not just serving to the readers?? A lot of fics that play around with the childhood friend trope tend to write them like their canon selves, like the presence of another friend didn't change them. It's not inherently a bad thing but often the MC is written to be kinder and such, so Octa being the same as the canon doesn't super match up ?? Like the MC's presence didn't matter. and on the other side of that, they're sooo soft that they start detaching from their personalities so then you don't see Jade, Floyd, and Azul, you just see three mushy guys that look and dress exactly like them.
but here, it's like yeah. this MC is defs on the kind and sensitive side. and you can see that their kindness changes the trio. yeAH tweels would be nicer and not just threatening. yES Azul wouldn't be just drafting up contracts and such to lure people into deals. They're more than their meanness, and especially you see this with Azul, who's being so accommodating and kind to MC. but like, the core part about each individual, the things that they learned, the things that make them unique and themselves, it's still retained. Floyd and Jade are still teasing and mean. Azul is still hardworking, and he definitely still does contracts.
in terms of childhood friend MC Octa fics, this one is really good.
ANOTHER POG THING ABOUT THIS FIC is that it really took an interesting take on hanahaki. like. like man. MAN. MC got flowers on their lungs because of a love for their mother that was not reciprocated?????? bro, yomogi could have taken the flower disease to the romance direction (like Azul initially didn't like them back) but holy shit, they went with FAMILY. and that's so SO SEXY???/ LIKE I NEVER CONSIDERED THAT AND THAT'S HONESTLY SOOOOO BIG BRAINED i . i love it. yeah :) also love that they actually did surgery for it and that they showed said EFFECTS of it, both physical and mental.
there were also moments that really broke me man. like. for example.
:-) cue intense sobs in the distance
no no because. fuck. you KNOW their throat is so badly damaged from all the surgeries and the flowers that grew in their lungs, you KNOW that as a result, they can't speak. and yet they'd almost speak just to say Azul's name. it's just. it's so. like. almost forgetting your disabilities or wounds cause you saw someone you love. like. what the fuck. actually, what the fuck.
then also this moment
I THINK ANY DISABLED PERSON WOULD BE INCREDIBLY TOUCHED THAT SOMEONE WOULD ACCOMMODATE TO THEM !!!
deadass read that and nearly choked like what the fuck. i'm not even mute or anything but like FUCK. and you Know Azul damn well studied the language just for MC!!!!!
and then we have this paragraph
new paragraph to make me feel oguhoghuhuouosdhosguohg
if i can sum up yomogi's writing in one paragraph, it's that paragraph. it's very poetic and freeflowing, it's very beautiful, it's soooo oughhhhhhhhh like, i'm kinda particular about the grammar, spelling esp, and spacing format in fics and this fic kinda hit my peeves for some of them admittedly but the writing makes me forgive it. cause it's that pretty like ohsguohdogdg the metaphors used it's soooooo good
man idk I just love the way they describe that giddiness and the sharp memory that you have for someone you love like DAMN DAMN THAT'S SO PERFECT, and i just love especially "the way his mole stretches across his chin, the world in his eyes" like. like GODDDDDDDDDD IT'S SO FUCKING PERFECT IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN WHY IT'S PERFEFCT IT JUST IS IT REALLY JUST. IS. PERFECT...
AND THEN WE HAVE THESE TWO
i'm gonna get diabetes at this rate MAN WHAT TEH FUCK
THE WAY THEY MIRROR EACH OTHER.........
"Spoil them, I don't care."
"Stain them, I don't care."
and it's in response to each other's tears.
lord i'm not your strongest soldier
#azul ashengrotto#ok i just realized i also was really weak to this one mettaton x mute reader fic i read years ago#damn do i just have a soft spot for x mute reader??#anyway HKFSHDKJFDS GODDDD i should be working on other things but look at me being so poopoo#also this out here making me realize i have not given a proper review for The Blame Game which is singlehandedly the best Azul fic i've rea#I NEED TO MAKE THAT REVIEW CAUSE I'M GONNA SHIT MY PANTS IF I DON'T
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To my readers!
Hey everyone!!
As some of you may know, I've been struggling a lot with writing for a long time now, because of my personal life.
However, as my personal life is slowly getting better, I've been able to write consistantly for several weeks now, including some pieces of fanfiction!! I am thus hoping to come back to posting regularly in the coming weeks!!!
I am currently writing a few one-shots and other cute stuff so I can plan my return! Expect a posting schedule to be announced in the coming week...
Some changes in my masterlist will also occur in the coming days/weeks. Do not be alarmed. I won't be deleting anything, simply reorganizing things. Do not panic, everything is under control...
I hope that some of you will still be interested in my silly and cute stories! I've always wanted to keep on posting my fanfictions, but sometimes life gets in the way. Hopefully, this is the right time for me to make a glorious come back!
However, I must admit that I have not been the most active tumblr gremlin as of late. I haven't really been active in the community in a while, but I would love to meet new people and discover the works of content creators who share my hyperfixations.
So, if you have any recs on a blog you think I might enjoy, linked to a fandom I like, feel free to share a rec! I'll check the blogs you recommend me!
I hope all of you have a wonderful day, and that you will enjoy the new stories I have to tell!
#padfootagain#just me making an update#The one year anniversary without meds really boosted my confidence#And I got back to writing almost instantly after I passed that date#Think I just needed to be sure I'm okay again#Anyway#A Sirius Black x reader fic is already finished#An adorable Ben Barnes x reader fic is on the way#have to write some Caspian as well#Will be sharing a proper posting schedule before the end of next week which means before March 10 2023#Hopefully some people are still around and still interested in what i might write#know it's been so long#but i'll do my best as always :)
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a minute of silence to my skills to estimate how long a project is ever going to take
#my google calendar and Carl bot (and my friends) have been kind enough to inform me today was the estimated posting date of heist au#suffice to say that is not happening#it would have been rad to make a habit out of the co-occurrence of starting a new job and starting to post a finished WIP but alas#that will not be happening for a while longer#I have no idea when will I find the time for writing between two jobs and the big bang but. we'll work something out.#but hey it's good to give your projects breathing space so your brain can do the work in the background and solve the problems for you#I'll probably need to go back and revamp the whole last chapter I've been working on#but I'm still too sick and jet lagged and sick to be thinking about that so I'll consume some more media in the meantime#and complain about how bad the fic I'm listening to is. like god it's supposed to be so romantic and cute and he's literally#depriving her bodily autonomy and her friends support him I want to leave a strongly worded comment so bad#I will not be doing that but god it's so awful I should have stopped listening to this fic long ago. so that's a lesson learned.#put the fucking fic down there's plenty of stuff that's going to be better#hot take I sure no one saw coming sometimes things that are popular are actually bad#anyway have some stream of fucking consciousness /ref to another fic I'm fighting hard to keep discontinued#I know I won't like it why is this so hard#heist au should have been posted today based on maths btw. maths I did wrong for the first time which means it should have been posted#a year ago really#not like I have the proper structure to do a heist au daily#but it would have been fun to post the first chapter on the exact day it takes place. idk just for flavour#does all this make any sense? hardly. this is a diary entry and my two braincells are firing random thoughts at each other#that's fine though. it's all fine. here have some popcorn to go with all this nonsense 🍿🍿🍿 <3#(and also all the drama in the new shadow and bone season. ugh it's so good I love Wesper SO. MUCH. or just Waylan. and Nikolai.#he's my blorbo assigned at first relevant information. relavant information: he's my friend's blorbo#but gods he's so my type it's scary. of course I'll have him as my blorbo. of course of course!#*puts him on a shelf next to Adrien Draco and Hunter*#*steps back to think before putting Waylan there too and sitting Zuko on the far end*#war crimes look so good on them :3#miaing#heist au
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want you to, want you, too
Blankshipping <1k; getting together featuring a big fat scoop of Ingo's Catholic Guilt and Nii-san Complex uwu
÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷
When Emmet forces his way to Hisui, fueled by a determination that could override every karmic force in the universe, Ingo thinks nothing of his immediate attempts to get him alone.
His memories are still vague, but they're stronger now than ever, jolted and jogged, jostled about by the reappearance of the one person he'd remembered before anyone else. Ingo understands; all he wants is to stay close, spend every waking moment basking and soaking up his brother's presence. He'd missed him before he even knew him, deeply and intensely missed him, enough to hurt, enough to leave an empty ache.
Ingo had been content with the Pearl Clan in Hisui, but it had never quite felt like home. It does now.
As early as the first day after his fated Fall, Emmet fixes him with an odd look and says he has something he needs to tell him. Something important. Emmet is strangely serious as he says it, deathly so. Ingo finds himself standing straighter.
"While we were apart, I realized something. I-" A pause, something akin to regret in his briefly hollowed eyes and his stitched-on smile. "Well, ok, no. I knew it before then. I've known it for a verrrry long time. I just didn't act on it." Ingo wants to ask; Emmet is rarely hesitant to act- whip-smart and sharp as a tack, once he's decided something needs to be done, he figures out how to do it as efficiently as possible. For him to be so overly cautious, it must be a truly tricky and delicate matter. But he doesn't dare interrupt now.
"But I did not chase you across continents-" Emmet's eyes light up again, blazing now, bonfire-bright "-across centuries-" something rumbles within Ingo, like an early warning, moving as a phantom sensation beneath the balls of his feet, as though the world were about to shift, "-just to not take advantage of a second chance."
Ingo is suddenly painfully aware of his own body, of the curl of his knuckles, the bite of his nails in the flesh of his palms, a twitch in his legs and an itch in his throat. His head has forgotten, memories smeared and leaking out like a bird's egg dropped on a rock, but much still lives on in his heart, some beacon is in his center, at his core, sending out signal after signal, a rapid-fire jumble of SOS and morse code that Ingo can't decipher.
There is something happening here, something only his heart and his brother (between which there is only a small difference, he'll admit) are privy to, Emmet's voice a chorus of trumpets, a declaration of war, and Ingo's brain is scrambling to form some response. There is a niggling feeling somewhere within him, in a secret place cordoned off by chain and padlock, that all of this was a long time coming. That this is a long-at-sea ship finally docking, this is all of his chickens and bad decisions and "I'll reflect on these thoughts later"s come home to roost.
Emmet steps closer. The door is right behind Ingo, tauntingly unlocked and beckoning, he could so easily leave if he wanted to. Emmet never does things accidentally. He's given Ingo an escape route. Emmet takes another step, slow, watching and observing with his quicksilver eyes, giving every opportunity to turn and run. Like he's dealing with a skittish creature.
Ingo should escape.
Ingo does not want to escape.
Emmet is right in front of him now and he leans in so close that Ingo can't see anything else, loses view of the rest of the world around them. When he stops, it's at a lethal, point-blank range.
"Don't just let me do this to you, ok? Don't let me unless you want me to." He shouldn't. There is still that twitch in his limbs, those loud wordless pings of alarm in his heart that urge him to retreat, that tell him staying here is going to damn them both. Because his younger brother is making the worst mistake of his life, and Ingo is doing nothing to stop him. But Emmet's breath mixing with his own between them is a rallying cry, the close warmth of his body a call to action, the press of his lips against Ingo's a battle hymn.
Emmet kisses him, and Ingo horribly, selfishly, wants him to do it again.
The long, bitter civil war is over in a flash, he's won and he's lost. The side of him that had struggled to resist, that had held strong and weathered for years and years as it tried to be the model older brother Emmet deserved, finally succumbs and is trampled in the trenches by the incoming cavalry, stormed and seized by the parts of him that love Emmet in all the ways that he shouldn't.
"-san. Ingo-niisan." Hands cupping his face bring him out of the gunsmoke and fog. "Tell me if you don't want this, too."
Ingo stands atop a bloody battlefield of corpses, both conqueror and vanquished. He feels like he's won, a thrilling victorious high stronger than any challenger has ever given him. The loss is immeasurable.
"...I'm terrible," Ingo whispers.
His brother begins an attempt to console him because he's too kind, too forgiving, he always is when it's just the two of them. But he's cut short when Ingo grabs him, crushes them together and gorges himself, gluttonous and greedy, swallowing the rest of Emmet's sounds to hoard them for himself.
Emmet's smile widens against his lips, his arms coming up to hold on to Ingo like some sought-after, fought-for prize, as though he were the Spoils of War, kiss tasting like a bloodsoaked victory.
#blankshipping#submas#pokemon emmet#pokemon ingo#pla ingo#well really it features BOTH their Nii-san Complexes#they're just on opposite ends of the spectrum about it#Ingo is like:#'I am Emmet’s big brother and therefore I need to be Proper and a good influence and help him make the right choices'#and meanwhile Emmet is like:#'Ingo is my big brother and therefore I am going to kiss him directly on the mouth' HSMDLJXKSJXKDKSND#This fic somehow came out with. Completely different imagery than planned.#It just kinda happened I started writing Ingo having a Nii-san Guilt crisis and suddenly I was writing like a Thing Possessed#and then this fucking thing was staring back and judging me as an end result haha#oh well I actually like this better though ♡#my fics#want you to want you too#ingo#warden ingo#emmet#hisuian emmet
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WIP title game! I was tagged by @goingsparebutwithprecision Thank you! This is a very fun game even if some of my titles are especially silly rn
RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
I'm only listing the ones I've worked in recently, because otherwise this would be shamefully long
where'd the ancient space-monk keep his armies (Star Wars)
do it my damned self (Call of Duty)
it's a small explosive device (Star Wars)
lay-on-the-floor-and-scream dot excel (Star Wars)
head-bomp (Marvel, tower)
backflip, faceplant (DC, batfam)
He has a sword. (Leverage)
refractive index (DC, YJ)
definitionally someone else's problem (Star Wars)
'No pressure tagging' is I think such a useful phrase. @zahnie, @acountrygirlsfun, @piratefalls, @lynne-monstr, anybody else who wants to play?
#tagged by#goingsparebutwithprecision#also very recently opened is the file 'You are big and need large wings' but that's not really a proper fic so I'm not counting it#it's my ongoing babble to myself about daemon AUs#essentially just a long convoluted stream of consciousness of me doing character examinations via talking animal friends you know how it is#what the hell was my tag for being tagged in things. did I ever make a proper one. eh#edit: I'm here now putting on a proper tag for being tagged on things! I'm going basic like with my asks. the tag is 'tagged by'#and if farther-future-me doesn't like it then at least I'll have made it easy for her to replace it#also an edit I'm doing now is adding links to the stories I've described. that's also for farther-future-me's convenience. she's welcome
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Sorry I'm aliveeeee. I spent too much time thinking and not enough drawing :')
#Today I wrote a concerning fic about Englsnd being in love with himself in science class#according to my friends the fic is '😟'#which to me that means it's really good :)#but I need it to be an 'are you ok? 😰'#We were lesrning about asexual reproduction. Guess what the fic I wrote was inspired by.........#Dw he just splits like a bacteria#Actually he just throws himself through a mirror#It did have a pretty sad ending though I didn't write it yet. Probs gonna be like 10 chapters long#and I'm deleting my fic on ao3 and reuploading when I make proper art about it. The way I uploaded it was a mess....#I'm also thinking those FrUK fics from a certain ao3 author and AAAA I love their work I want to draw fanart#There's too many things I want to draw#it's too overwhelming#rambles
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Read an interesting new fic, but really it was the spider that sold me (Patreon)
#Doodles#The Little Mermaid#I feel like I could say just about anything is Scriabin's fault and by this point it'd be believable#Okay but it actually was!!! I'm telling you!!#It spiraled unexpectedly from there but he started it! He always starts it!#Lol#The chain of events was - Scriabin - Ariel - some MEPs featuring Ursula/Vanessa - fanfic searching - interspersed with music#Mostly Poor Unfortunate Souls and its reprise - Jodi Benson's voice work???? Come on#Impeccable#It really did bring back a bunch of memories of being Super into mermaids and having other Art Friends who could do the Disney mer style#Super cute#This fic in particular cemented it tho it's just so interesting ♪ Alien cultures under the surface! Fascinating#Plus a spider <3 Definitely inspired me to consider Ursula as a name for a Grammistola Pulchra maybe someday ♪#As if I'm not already head over heels for that tarantula /what/ a beauty#Bauble was extremely cute too haha I like seahorse mers as well :D I think I have one somewhere in the deep backlog lol#Considering size differences was interesting - they'd have to be bigger than the Disney version but how big! What kind of differences?#I also absolutely need to doodle Ursula again sometime tho and not just to get the details right lol#Sit down with a proper study - her incredible cheekbones ah <3 She's stunning#Oh yeah fair warning - make sure to check the tags and such on the fic so you know what you're getting into#Always a good rule of thumb haha
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Hate the fact that I'm finally at the part of this fic that I have been thinking about writing for literal months at this point and I'm sitting in the break room at work on my lunch so I don't get to make little noises while I write
#the little noises are important to me#they really help the creative process#just being able to go like 'oh shit'#or proper noises when the characters are going through it#(which they will be in this part)#but im super excited to finally write it#its really the climax of this chapter#theres gonna be a fight scene and everything#im gonna try to make that fight scene good#its very important to me#cause ive been thinking about it for so fucking long#it needs to be exactly as it is in my head#but its just this and the falling action and i will be done with this fic#i would guess all of that is gonna take like another 5k words or so#im a few words away from 18k for two chapters though#this finale is literally a whole ass fic in and of itself#i think im gonna try to post the first part of it on the 22nd though#thats yosuke's birthday#so it makes sense to me#i might still write a little birthday one shot#but i dont know yet#well see
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If my Kirk (or McCoy) ever comes close to a woobie please smack me in the head. thx
#because i know i'm occasionally edging close to 'poor kirk' in my fics and i really need that not to be a thing in my fics lol#i mean kirk is probably closer to a tragic hero because i make him suffer internally but yeah#i still need to find a better balance so the fics also aren't so one sided#even though sometimes you just want to write a fic where one character comforts the other#but it doesn't need to be every fic self okay?#even though i never really managed to do a proper comfort lol... just words and then bye#leni's nonsense#there's nothing wrong with the these it's just not something i personally want from my own fics#because like many i enjoy reading and writing different things#(also it might not be your interpretation or understanding and experience but i have woobie connected a lot with infantilization#and so that's basically what i don't want from my fics. infantilizing my characters and woobies and h/c makes a good stage for that.#and that's why i kind of dislike the whole woobification process of many fan favourite characters. reason i had to kind of stop reading#steve/tony fics lol)
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Secret Ending Three - Chapter Five: We Think We Know You
Don't judge books by their covers!!
The wind bites my face as we exit the cafe. The owner led the way, paws in hand, leaving myself and the red head following. She and her bear fall into conversation, pointing out every shop on the way and explaining everything in great detail.
It is impossible to describe the experience of watching her. She is someone with an undeniably one-track mind, incredibly simple in a strangely charming way. Her round and soft, gentle features dance in the midst of her excitement, hopping slightly and with a permanent beam from ear to ear.
I'm not sure how I might handle it if I'm to lose this sight. Watching is satisfactory, but not at all enough, especially after how much our relationship has grown, and us along with it. My appreciation for my owner has only brightened since becoming human and I don't see it's light dimming any time soon. I am determined to win this war with the other dolls.
The other dolls... I do hope that my apology earlier today was to the owner's liking, as well as her bear's. I want to make the best impression I can of myself, not just for my own sake, but so that the new addition to our family may feel at home too.
However, if I'm to ensure my success, I can't just focus on displaying my own strengths, but assessing the competition as well. My attention is drawn to my right, where Red walks beside me, slightly faster than myself. I'd tell him to slow down, but I'm not sure he's physically capable of that. My shins hurt to keep up with him, still.
He looks at me, looking at him, and cracks an awkward smile. I blink back. It's hard to know how to act around the others already, but even more now that all of them have dated the same girl I have.
I've noticed a considerable change in Red since the realities converged and it's changed our relationship. Or it will, at least. In truth, we haven't been alone together until now. We've slept in the same bedroom already of course, but being asleep or busy is hardly time to get to know someone.
Despite this, I've made the observations that Red is now more level headed and less hyperactive than he was before. He also has a notably weaker obsession with that cartoon though. I'm not sure I've even heard him mention it once yet.
What exactly occurred in his version of events? He's rarer and has much stronger of a personality than mine, but he has always been slow and positively delusional. What specifically made the owner choose him over me in that reality, and how can I prevent it from happening again?
"So, Lance." I was running through several ways to interrogate my rival, but he began the conversation before I could even decide on a topic to start with. "You guys never explained about that cross dressing thing. What did they mean?"
Oh... That again...
"... I have already explained that it is none of your concern... And besides, it's not as big of a deal as people are making it seem. I simply took actions to prevent someone else in taking the owner's first kiss in my version of reality. That is all."
"... Really?" A laugh played on his lips as he scratched his cheek at my answer. "And you dressed up as a girl to do that? I assumed someone forced you into it or something. It doesn't sound like something you would do just for fun."
"I did not do it for fun. The version of yourself in my reality was there, and he did not find it very fun either. I can assure you."
"Okay..." This conversation mortifies me, but the look on the red head's stunned face as he assumedly tries to imagine such a situation is exceptionally amusing.
"On the topic of that though," I said to change the subject as we rounded a corner where our destination was finally in sight. "Did you also act in that nonsensical play in your world?"
"I did actually!" His entire face lit up at the mention of the play, as expected. "And so did the Heroine!" Unfortunately, also just as expected. Had he achieved what I had tried to prevent in my own world?
"It was so fun! You only signed her up for the play for her safety, since she'd been attacked by some girls before that, and the drama club members always walk home together. But when she started attending it with me, it was like it was always meant to be.
"It was difficult sometimes, but I think the practicing the lines over and over really helped bring her memories back when she was struggling with losing them. It felt like I'd really accomplished something good when I finally went up on stage with her and performed after working so hard to get it right. I hope we'll be able to do it again in the future."
This man is awfully good at talking endlessly, especially about such pointless things... It struck me as a surprise to hear that I was the one to sign the owner up for that ridiculous play in Red's version of events. He didn't pester her to join, but it was instead my own decision? In what kind of danger could she possibly have been that I would agree to such idiocy..? I dread to think.
But the rest of this news doesn't sound good either. Because I was the one who decided it, of course the owner would join a club she has no personal interest or experience in. Maybe the appeal that Red has for her is that the two of them are, in some ways, equally as slow as each other.
Two slow people in love... It's at least cute on Eri. On Red, it's... Well...
"We're here!" my owner calls. In front of us stands the stationery shop we were looking for. I admit that it lifts my spirits to see a place so organised.
"Let's go in then," I say, greatly looking forward to the venture. I say this to Red, but upon hearing no response, I turn around to realise that he is nowhere I can see him.
I am left, standing alone outside the shop. I scan my surroundings, but see no trace of him.
If I could have it my way, I'd say good riddance. The owner must have grown quite close to him after how much time they spent together in the drama club. Plus, because he helped her overcome her memory loss issues, she may even feel indebted to him, or even obligated to choose him as her one true love.
A simple minded, slow man with ridiculous dreams and aspirations, yet a vibrant personality. A man who enjoys showing off and effortlessly exceeds at entertaining a crowd of people atop a stage. A man who cures the owner's magical illness without even trying. A man who has never known struggle, who successes come to with ease.
As expected, he is someone to be very wary of in this fight for the right to stand by the owner's side. I should be careful not to let my guard down around fierce competition such as himself.
As I'm about to give up and follow Eri into the shop, I catch the sound of Red's voice behind me and instead make haste to find it's source. I end up walking back the way we came for a moment before finding him seated in an alley, similar to how Yeonho was found when he was chasing that cat.
In this instance though, Red was not kneeling in front of a cat, but in front of someone who was bundled up in warm clothes, seated on a sheet of cardboard under the overhanging roof of an abandoned restaurant. I hadn't even noticed they were there. I don't think anyone else had either.
But there Red was. He'd bought cookies to go from Banjul when we left, but they were now in his hands, being offered to the complete stranger in front of him. The stranger looked incredibly thankful.
I watched them speak briefly before Red soon returned, looking relieved. Had the person told him they were going to be okay?
"... What were you doing?" I asked him.
"Oh..! Sorry for leaving like that. I just saw that guy and he looked like he needed help."
"Right... That was...very thoughtful. People don't usually think to help."
"Oh, well... It wasn't really that thoughtful... I just know what it's like..."
I know what it's like..? To be...homeless..?
It is impossible to describe the experience of watching him say nothing else and return back on track to the stationery shop with a skip in his step, as though the entire exchange never occurred.
I'm left in a stunned silence. He couldn't possibly have done such a thing to boast about how kind he is; I didn't even know he was doing it. And he never even accepted my regretful attempt at a compliment.
Besides, what could he have meant by knowing what it's like..? I've spent almost the entirety of my human life sharing a bedroom with him, but this only defies all expectations.
What else is there about him that I do not know? This new knowledge of Red makes me feel sick. It brings back the same sickness I felt on the day I performed with him on stage in Eri's stead. And what a wonderful, detestable, life-changing day.
#you are gay#cheritz#my post#nameless the one thing you must recall#my writing#writeblr#YOU ARE GAY#you. are. gay.#I wonder how Red's experiences being homeless affected him long term#help how do I make it a proper title..#i think I might keep doing things like this. between every 'plot' chapter is a chill bonding chapter. Worth n Warmth; Pamper; this one.#i kinda really like that idea. i never even planned to write Pamper specifically. i just wanted to write n was fulll#full of inspiration n REALLY love the whole trope of non sexually bathing each other. it's my favourite thing.#i wonder what else is my favourite thing. i should just do more of that. whatever that is.#i need to find some kind of a list of tropes and aus. i should write an au as well. idk if there even are any au fics for Nameless. not in#this fic tho. i rly like the idea of it tho
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seething. i need to write travlyn in horrible love RIGHT now.
#listen to me.#sequel to the chowder fic from travis perspective now#he’s realized he’s madly in love with katelyn and it’s Bad. it’s really bad. he doesn’t know what to do#i rlly want them to make krumkake (norwegian dessert) but that would be very difficult without the proper materials#so ill do some more research. BUT THEY MAKE SOMETJING.#q dicit#idk …….. i just need it#mcd
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Show me where it hurts (part 1)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist
summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.
warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo
a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker. I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D
(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)
edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(
wc: 3.6k
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You think Miguel is avoiding you.
One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point.
"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."
She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it.
"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"
"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow.
"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.."
He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here."
"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?"
"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?"
"I don't have time for this-"
"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?"
"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans.
"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks."
"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now."
This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching.
"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-"
"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."
"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."
He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "
Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!"
When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall.
"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly?
Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out.
~~~
Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big.
He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing.
Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm.
"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain.
Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies.
"What happened?" He strains.
"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-"
"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"
"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"
Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye.
"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-"
"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."
Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple.
"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."
When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile.
You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you.
"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."
You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."
"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."
You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?"
He shrugs. " 'Course I was."
"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does.
"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now.
He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?"
"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan.
"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"
"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact.
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-"
"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-"
"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"
"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-"
"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "
He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.
"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"
Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.
"I don't… I d-don't…?"
"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?"
Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to.
"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."
"Miguel-"
"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."
"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts."
Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."
You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears.
"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."
You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.
~~~
The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning.
The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before.
You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now.
"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"
"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home.
You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time.
The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear.
"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."
"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?"
"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"
"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."
"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."
"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."
"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?"
You hum.
"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"
"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."
He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?"
"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me."
"Naturally…"
"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."
"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"
"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."
"Shit."
"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."
"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "
"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me."
" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."
"Good to know. I'll see you around."
He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard.
Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes…
You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.
On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate.
"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you.
"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding.
"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?"
"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."
"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?"
She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."
Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?"
"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."
You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?"
"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."
"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?"
She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters."
"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"
"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word.
"I'm a little confused, Lyla."
She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface.
It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head.
Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…
"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "
You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla."
"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."
Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning.
"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?"
"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."
"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."
"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."
"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this."
"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"
"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."
The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."
"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you."
With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.
_
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#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#across the spiderverse#kat_writes😼#this gif is fucking crazy btw
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