#Inter-Dimensional Anomaly

[moonfurthetemmie]

Some time ago, Egret and I were talking about TUSOUD AUs and somewhere in there the idea came that, perhaps, some of the involved MVs collide with each other, because frequent travel between the three is unstabilizing everything.

The MVs that collide are the OGMV, Dreamswap, and Silver’s Fell!Swapdream, but anyway my point is I think that’d be perfect for IDA.

The more people travel between IDA’s versions of DINTIS and JMV, the more unstable it gets. It’s mostly just Shrike and Lark but they (and Baroque and Rayonnant) are the worst possible ones to be doing that frequently. It’s been getting worse and worse since the two pairs of guardians forcibly traded places, but it’s been a steady decline up until Shrike and Lark meet the people in the JMV Manor. And now they’re making it even worse

Eventually, the barrier between the two has weakened so much that it can’t close the ‘hole’ Shrike and Lark make to hop between them.

Hundreds of thousands of universes collide with each other, fusing together and sometimes creating incredibly fucked up terrain. Others are lucky enough to be spared that, but it’s obvious that something big has happened.

I think the DINTIS castle and the JMV manor will probably collide, and they’ll all be incredibly lucky if no one gets hurt in the process.

There will be several dozen theories on why this all happened, but I doubt anyone will figure it out. Not unless they meet and can talk to the four spirits.

Shrike and Rayonnant are probably fine with it. Guess they live together now! What a shame <3

That won’t last too long, though.

The collision is only the beginning.

now to figure out what the next problem is

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - call

miguel calls you because he misses you

. . .

“Lyla.“

“Yah?“

“Call y/n.“

“What do we say?“

“Oh my god, just call her. Please.“

“You’re in your office, call her yourself.“

“Lyla!“

Lyla scoffs, flickering in and out in a flash of cream and pink. Miguel rolls his eyes, watching as a module is pulled up in front of him.

Lyla flickers in, pressing the obnoxiously green “call” button on the screen as Miguel subconsciously fixes his hair. The screen starts to dial, and Lyla chuckles to herself. 

“What?“ Miguel asks, crossing his arms together. 

Lyla’s hand runs up to her mouth. “Pfft. Nothing.“

And with that, she disappears. 

The screen dials for a few more seconds, and finally, you answer the call. A video calling of you, looking down at at the camera on your watch. You’ve got your spider suit on, chaos seeming to be crashing in the background as you zip through a metropolitan city with your webbing. 

“Miguel, baby, you know I’m busy.“ You say, the man watching on his screen as you simultaneously glace down the watch and look back up to swing your webbing against random architecture. 

“I know. Sorry.“ He says, and you look expectantly down at your watch. 

“Did you need something?” You ask, and your watch suddenly drifts over towards behind you, an anomaly chasing behind you. 

“How long will it take for you to be back?“ He asks, hand slithering to the back of his neck. Even from the shitty camera quality, you can see the slightest tinge of blush on his cheek. 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, sighing to yourself as you bustle through skyscrapers and towers galore. “Is this really was this was about?“

“Yeah, I wanna see you.“ He states. You watch as he starts tapping on the holographic screen, seemingly zooming in on a particular picture. 

You watch as Miguel already goes to grab his spider mask, clutching it in his hand while he taps at his own watch. “Where are you, honey? I can take them off your hands.“

“It’s fine, Miguel. I got it.“

“But I wanna see you.“

“You can wait a little longer, right? Jessica sent me out on this mission.“

“No. I’m going out there, where are you?“

You sigh. “Fine, I’m at Earth-681, Queens.”

“See you in a sec, hun. Love you, bye.“

“Love you. Bet I can finish this guy off before you can even make it down here-“

You hang up, and the call screen flickers dark. Miguel yanks on his spider mask, leaping off his office until...

“Wow.“

Lyla sputters in front of Miguel, laughing to herself in a doubled over position. She flashes in a few more times, each one a different frame of her laughing. Miguel tries to ignore her, speeding up into a run whilst tapping at his watch.  

“You’re really that whipped!“ She exclaims. 

“What does whipped even mean?“ Miguel asks, obviously annoyed. 

“You’ll find out later.“

“Hm.“

“Oh and, just so you know. That entire convo was recorded. Thanks!“

Miguel groans, and Lyla vanishes as soon as she came in. 

. . . 

Miguel dives headfirst into the inter-dimensional juncture, leaping directly into the skies of Earth-681. There’s millions of skyscrapers below, all of them almost identical to any other Earth he’s been on. 

He webs a nearby building, slinging himself through Queens in search of you. His spidey-sense picks up, detecting you to be in his far right. Faster than ever, he slingshots himself through buildings, his heart quickening in his chest at the thought of seeing you. 

Unexpectedly, you aren’t where you’re supposed to be. 

Miguel pauses himself onto the head of a gargoyle, eyes flickering left and right to try and find you. You’re supposed to be hugging him, kissing him, teasing him about dates and what not. 

“Boo.“

Miguel doesn’t even flinch, but he’s more excited than ever to see you. He misses you so much. 

You laugh to yourself, taking a few steps forward to Miguel. He rolls his eyes, and you can even see it through his mask. 

“Haha, very funny.“

“I know, I’m the funniest.“

“C’mere.“

Miguel wastes no time, hastily tugging you into him by your waist, until you’re close enough to hear his heartbeat. You tug your mask off, revealing the face that Miguel knows and loves. 

Tenderly, the man presses you into a kiss, savoring the taste of your lips for a moment longer than he should’ve. You can feel the poke of his fangs on your bottom lip, and you yelp a little in his mouth. 

“Ah, I’m sorry.“

“It’s fine-“

And he a presses a few more gingerly kisses to your cheek, stroking your other with his thumb. His big hand lingers on your lower back, threatening to ghost his fingers against your behind. 

“See, told you I’d finish him off before you’d come.“ You say, indulgently resting your chin on his chest. 

“Can’t believe Jess sent you out here, on your break day too.“ Miguel scowls, “Wanted to take you somewhere special.“

“Welp, now I’m free.“ You shrug, and Miguel leans the both of you against the concrete walls of the tower. 

Something sparks in Miguel’s mind. 

“Hun, what does whipped mean?“

“Whipped?“

“Mhm. Lyla mentioned it earlier.“

You chuckle a little. 

“It’s what you are, Miguel.“

“And what, exactly, is that?“

“Absolutely in love with me. Like you’ll do anything, k’know?“

Miguel grumbles to himself, releasing you from his embrace. 

“I hate that she’s right.“

miguel gets jealous oneshot (same universe)

[bloggerspam]

Not Exactly the Apple of my Eye

I wrote this for the @haunting-heroes-creative-games WWT Myths game last month, and subsequently co-won my first game!

Figured I'd post it here too, now that all the reveals have happened---have a DPxYJ/DPxDC Snow White AU Crack fic!

===

"You gotta be kidding me," Kon says as he looks down at himself, "this can't be real, right?"

"Feels pretty real to me!" Bart chirps happily, fiddling with his overly large green sleeves.

"Rad." Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and popping his hip and yawning like a disgruntled cat. Sarcasm practically drips from every orifice of his body language, even as he looks 2 seconds away from falling asleep.

"Is this what I think it is?" Cassie yells from further into the room, the sound of a small clamor echoing behind her words.

"If by it you mean some kind of inter-dimensional fucky wucky, then yeah!" Kon waves his arms around, gesturing to the room at large even if she can't see; Tim and Bart can, and that's all that matters. "I think so!"

"No, I mean is this Snow White?" Cassie clarifies as she comes huffing into the room. She too is adjusting her clothes as best she can, trying to figure out what to do with the glasses suddenly on her face.

The four of them stand gathered in the middle of the cottage they've been dumped into, freshly shrunken in height, stripped of their powers and gadgets and suits, and dressed in what seems to be simple cotton peasant shirts and work leggings.

They also have comically large and weirdly soft and sturdy leather shoes, of the Snow White Dwarf variety.

"Aren't there supposed to be seven of us?" Tim mumbles thoughtfully, another yawn causing him to slump and looking mad about it.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Kon huffs, picking up Tim with very little resistance for once and dumping the yawning boy onto a bed labelled Sleepy. Kon himself grumbles as he takes a seat on the next bed over labelled Grumpy.

An angry Kryptonian is not a great idea. Who let this be okay?

"I'm not calm about this…" Tim yawns once more, irritated, "I just can't think straight, I'm too tired."

"You don't sleep on a daily basis though?" Bart walks his way to his own bed, labeled Dopey and test bouncing it. "But it seems fitting at least. Plus, You're not straight anyway. Who's Cassie supposed to be?"

"Doc, I think." Cassie goes to her own bed, looking at it dubiously before deciding to ignore it completely. "He's the only one with glasses right?"

"That…" Tim is curled up on his side now, "still…doesn't answer…"

Soft snores start to drift through the room, another anomaly, considering Tim doesn't actually snore.

"What did the genie lady say?" Bart starfishes on his bed, making snow angels with no snow, "This is all because you decided to hit on her anyway."

"How was I supposed to know?!" Kon angrily pulls the covers off his bed to dump over Tim. "All I said was that she was pretty!"

Before anybody else can say anything, there's another clatter outside the cottage.

"Seriously!?" A voice screams, "Seriously?! Three years and you-" A violent sneeze interrupts the voice—"-still make fucking wishes?"

A small murmur answers the voice, barely audible.

Kon, Cassie and Bart look at each other, before scrambling over to the door. Tim stays dead asleep. When they burst out, tumbling over each other, they're met with the other three dwarves: A young gothic looking girl who keeps sneezing, an African American boy hiding behind another boy with a bedsheet of all things tied around his neck like a cape. The caped boy, with his black hair and blue eyes, looks like he's trying to be a knock off superman.

Kon does not like that. At all.

"Hey!" Rao, it's like he has no control over his temper, "Were you guys fucked over by the genie lady too?"

"Language~" Bart singsongs, giggling. The gothic girl whirls towards them, angry like spitfire, and sneezing just as violently.

"Hello, citizens!" Super-knock-off intones, "What brings you into the ill graces of Desiree?"

"If by Desiree you mean the genie lady," Cassie jabs a thumb at him, "then this guy hit on her."

"O-oh," The shy boy still hiding behind Super-knock-off is blushing hard enough that Kon can see it even with his darker skin, "w-wow, you're pretty…"

"Thanks!" Cassie smiles, winking at him. "The ladies love it, anyway."

The boy squeaks, hiding behind super-knock-off again. Goth-girl rolls her eyes before addressing Cassie.

"Desiree hates that-" a sneeze, "-kind of shit." Goth-girl rubs her nose, to which the bashful boy passes her a tissue from his backpack as if dealing with a rabid animal. The girl takes it with a scoff-turned-sneeze.

"Figured." Cassie shrugs, waving to herself. "I'm Cassie, by the way. Grumpy over here is Connor, and Cutie Pie down here is Bart."

Kon huffs, waving begrudgingly as Bart does a happy little wave.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Danny!" Super-knock off puffs out his chest, before gesturing to the once more sneezing Goth. "This is Sam, and behind me is Tucker!"

"We're not—usually like this." Sam sniffles, sneezing between pauses, "Danny's usually more chill, and Tucker's not this—shy. But if my—math is mathing, it's because—of the dwarf traits."

"Why does being Happy make him so…" Kon sneers, "Do-goodey?"

"Long story. We call him Super Danny in this state." Tucker smiles, peeking out a little more, "Fun Danny was better."

"Hey!" Danny wraps an arm around his friend to bring him up to the forefront, causing Tucker to squeak. "Super Danny had his moments!"

"Where's-" Sam sneezes four times in a row, "-Sleepy?"

"Our friend Tim." Bart gestures towards inside the house, "He's napping in one of the beds inside. He's usually an insomniac, so this is actually pretty great!"

"So," Cassie gets them back on track as they all convene around a sleeping Tim. "Do you guys know how to escape?"

"That is difficult," Danny hums, patting at Tucker who seems to be taking deep breaths to overcome his shyness. Kon tries to follow suit, to temper himself. "Did you perhaps make a wish when hitting on Desiree?"

Kon felt his face go blotchy red, rubbing at his cheek with the back of his hand and looking away.

"Connor." Cassie's voice goes threatening, hands on her hips like a mom scolding a child.

"All I said was Move over Snow White, 'cause you're truly the fairest in the land!" Kon grumbles, crossing his arms. "And that she made me all Bashful, or whatever! I didn't wish for anything!"

"All I did was wish Sam would lighten up," Tucker scratches the back of his neck, inching closer to Danny when Sam bears her teeth. "Normally Desiree would just make Sam glow, or something."

"Who is Desiree anyway?" Bart starts to frown down at himself, rubbing his tummy absentmindedly. "We were just having lunch with Tim's brother-"

Suddenly Kon, Cassie and Bart whip their heads towards each other, exclaiming at the same time: "Dick!"

"Language?" Tucker, who had startled at the sudden yelling and is firmly hiding behind Danny again.

"No, Tim's brother, Richard—he goes by Dick." Cassie explains as the three of them separate to look under furniture and through the house for the older man. They collectively ignore the whispered on purpose? from the other trio.

"He was with us when we got snapped here." Tim yawns, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. "Who are you?"

The new trio introduces themselves to Tim as the rest of them split. Kon is looking under the beds, Bart is upstairs, and Cassie is opening cabinets in the kitchen, if the sounds are to be believed.

"This doesn't really feel like Desiree's usual fare." Sam taps her foot, for some reason the only dwarf who was able to keep her own black studded combat boots. It looks comical paired with her brown shirt and red pants. At least the black belt matches?

"How would you," Tim yawns, standing up and leaning heavily against Kon when he comes back around. "Usually…get rid of her?"

"Usually Phantom would deal with her." Tucker mumbles as Sam starts to pace. She's no longer sneezing now that they're inside, which seems odd.

"Who's Phantom?" Bart's voice bounces as he descends the stairs back to join them. "He's not upstairs, by the way."

"He's Amity Park's local hero!" Danny flashes a gleaming smile, before frowning. "Truly a mystery why she's hanging out around Bludhaven."

"What were you guys-" Kon is interrupted by Sam, who knocks twice on the window she's stopped in front of.

"Uh, guys?" She's staring at something confusedly, "Is Dick…uh, black haired, wearing eye-searingly ugly patterns?"

"That's���" Tim yawns again, sluggishly making his way over to Sam, "probably…him."

"I think he's in the backyard?" Sam tilts her head, "and I think we've found our Snow White."

The seven of them gather quickly around the window, pushing and shoving and…

"Is that a fucking glass coffin?"

===

Jazz has fucked up.

Oooooh she's definitely fucked up.

How was she supposed to know Ghost Writer and Desiree just wanted to hang out?

How was she supposed to know that Desiree's cousin was Scheherazade?

How was she supposed to know Ghost Writer knew that infamous One Thousand and One Night's protagonist?

She just wanted to finally meet her online friend and talk about Jane Austen books, have dinner with her brother and his friends in Bludhaven after!

She really should have aimed better. Stupid thermos, Danny always made it seem so easy!

Now she's running around in this random forest trying to find her brother and his friends dressed like some kind of Prince.

Why do Princes wear such white tights? It's impractical is what it is, there's already a bunch of dirt on the back of her calves!

She's been in this forest for what feels like hours when she hears it; sweet salvation in the form of other people. Jazz frantically makes her way towards it.

"—Snow White?" A boyish voice asks.

"Well, he's certainly—achoo!—pretty enough for it." Sam is saying—is she with the others? "Even with all…that going on."

"At least Danny isn't in the coffin this time?" Tucker sounds unusually shy and timid—it makes Jazz quicken her steps and almost trip over tree roots at least twice.

"Hey—" An unfamiliar feminine voice cuts in, "Tucker, what does that mean?"

"Worry not, Cassie!" Danny! Oh sweet souls, Danny!! "It's an inside joke!"

"It's not really funny…" Another voice, sounding sleepy beyond compare and yawning like a "…is it?"

"Believe it or not," The mysterious feminine voice, Cassie cuts in. "He's usually the one in charge of the brain-cell. We're smart too, he just has no humor."

"I…" Another yawn, "...resent that."

"Tim just doesn't have that sense of whimsy!" That first boyish voice cuts in, ignoring who Jazz presumes is Tim.

"Does that mean we have to find a Prince?" Another masculine voice, angry and fed up, "In the forest?"

And, well, there's never been a better time for Jazz to stumble ass over kettle into the clearing.

"Jazz!" Her trio yells in greeting, rushing over to her as she rights herself. She blinks.

They're all…a lot smaller than she left them. No matter, hugs first, confusion later. (And crying/yelling much much later after that).

They're small enough for her to hoist all three into her arms, even as she notices the other four dwarves and the…glass coffin housing a fully grown man.

"What the—" Jazz whispers, eyeing the strangers.

"Are you the Prince?" Danny asks, and in this form he reminds her so much of when he was little—she wants to squeal but she won't, she won't.

"I think I am." Jazz answers, putting everyone down as they clamor to introduce the new kids and update her on the situation. Jazz, through years of dealing with her brother's trio, manages to understand and reciprocate the exchange of information.

"So I have to kiss him?" Jazz looks at the man, Dick, in the glass coffin dubiously. "I don't even know him?"

"This might be the first time someone's seen him and not kissed him on sight." Bart jokes, "Or, at least, not wanted to."

"Consent is important." Jazz scrunches up her face in consternation. "I will not subject someone to a kiss when they cannot consent."

"What about a kiss on the…hand?" Tim yawns, desperately trying to stay awake. "Nobody…said you had to kiss him on the…lips."

Jazz makes a face in thought. Hm. "What about you?"

"What…about me?" Jazz gestures at Dick when Tim looks at her in confusion.

"He's your brother, you love him, right?" Jazz picks up the sleeping man's hand. "Nobody said it had to be romantic love. Besides, again, I don't believe in love at first sight. I'm demi."

"Demi like, demigod?" Cassie's brow furrows. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Demi as in demi-sexual or-" Sam sneezes, "-demi-romantic."

Tim seems to think on that a moment, before shrugging. "I do love him. And I used to have a crush on him when I was little, before I got adopted." He picks up the hand and kisses it lightly.

"Oh dude, same." Connor laughs, turning to them. "I think everyone's had a crush on Dick before."

"Not me!" Cassie harrumphs to Bart's laughter and agreement. "Though I do love the guy."

"That doesn't count!" Connor huffs, "Lesbians and Aces are obviously excluded!"

"I'm Ace…" Tucker shyly raises his hand, making a little eep! sound when everyone turns to him. "And I, uhm, have eyes. He's real pretty…"

"Fairest of them all," Sam sniffles, sort of agreeing. "And all that."

"I think," Danny cuts in, "That you have no choice here Jazz. I'm sorry, but it doesn't seem like Tim's kiss is the solution!"

Jazz eyes the sleeping man once more, pursing her lips. No, she really doesn't think she'll do that. Pretty as he is, he's a stranger. And bodily autonomy is important, even if it's just his hand. It sounds like this guy has a lot of admirers, but nobody's actually said anything about how Dick himself feels about it.

Plus, he definitely looks at least a couple years older than her. Though it's hard to tell when you're in your mid twenties.

"Just think of it this way, Jazz." Danny tries to gently say, "You're saving his life, sort of. Like CPR."

Jazz hums, leaning over the man and observing the man's throat. Hm...

"What's she taking so long for?" Cassie whispers, to which Sam only sneezes in response.

Jazz grabs the man by the shoulders, sitting him up and…whack!

"Jazz!" The chorus of children yell at her, some even grabbing at her but she ignores them.

She gives the man's back another smack! And then another, and another until—

Hack! Dick coughs out the piece of poisoned apple lodged in his throat, taking in deep breaths as Jazz rubs his back in support.

"Th-thanks." Dick wipes at his mouth, smiling up gratefully at Jazz. She smiles back, before stepping away to let Tim and his little friends crowd over Dick and give him hugs.

Sam, Tucker and Danny make their way to Jazz, and they watch the reunion fondly.

"How'd you know that would work?" Danny asks her, laughing as Jazz shrugs.

"In the original fairy tale, the Prince discovers Snow White in her glass coffin and decides to keep her because she's so beautiful." Jazz bares her teeth in disgust. "The guards that were with him were kind of clumsy and dropped the casket on its corner, dislodging the apple piece from Snow White's throat. She wakes up, and then they get married."

"That's…" Tucker whispers, shuddering.

"Yeah." Jazz rubs her arms. "Figured I'd give it a shot. Thankfully it worked."

Just as Dick gets out of the coffin, the world around them starts to waver. The dwarven teenagers flicker until they're bigger, almost glitching into their original sizes and proportions. Sam stops sneezing, Tim stops yawning and falling asleep (though he still sports eyebags the size of Guam), and Danny's little blanket sheet disappears.

Jazz, Dick, and seven 17 year olds suddenly find themselves in the middle of the streets of Bludhaven, in the outdoor seating of the local restaurant all of them were eating at before the whole debacle.

Ghost Writer and Desiree are sitting at one of the tables, having tea.

"Well, that was certainly quick." Ghost Writer mumbles, Desiree groaning as she puts down her cup. "I thought we'd have at least a couple more hours."

"I knew I shouldn't have set win conditions." Desiree pouts. "We were just getting to the good part!"

"Every story has to have some kind of conclusion." Ghost Writer argues, jabbing his mug at her. "Besides, I can just-"

"Yeah. Nope." Danny deadpans, grabbing his backpack and jabbing a hand into the bag. "Fuck you."

Before Ghost Writer Desiree can do more than charge an ecto-blast, Danny pulls out a Fenton Thermos and aims it expertly at the two, sucking them up with very little fuss and muss. Jazz is not jealous or mad about it. At all.

As long as she doesn't have to wear those stupid white tights again, everything is A-OK.

"Well." Dick breathes, putting his hands on his hips like some kind of mom. "That was...anti-climactic."

"What the hell was that?" Tim asks Danny, trying to get a closer look at the thermos, "Is that a thermos?"

Jazz looks up at the restaurant, waving over a sever as she takes a seat and beckons for everyone else to do the same. The others start to squish in a couple tables and take seats.

"I'm sure everyone has questions," Jazz smiles up at the waitress in thanks as she passes out menus. "But first, since it's still…" She checks her watch, "just past three, lets have a late lunch, shall we?"

"As long as there's no apple pie for dessert." Dick laughs, opening up his own menu to peruse.

"As you wish!" Jazz rolls her eyes, grinning. Everyone at the table groans.

[fangswbenefits]

Sharing is Caring (II)

Summary: Things get complicated, but you find yourself sharing a bed with Miguel… once again. Too bad someone else is in the room.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Sharing one bed. Semi-public. Blue balls. Sexual tension. Mutual masturbation. Creampie. Implied cockwarming.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1. (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one, though)

You were fucked.

Extremely fucked.

Not only had the anomaly managed to slip through your fingers, effectively disabling the trackers scattered around, but you were also fucked, because now you were left to deal with the aftermath of a very intimate encounter with Miguel.

It was nearly five in the morning and the night was nowhere near being done. Fortunately, it had stopped raining, which helped with visibility and grip, and having Lyla assist you as in replacing the faulty sensors was also very much welcome.

“Sensor 24 up and running,” the AI’s sing-song voice announced, as the device bleeped green.

You leapt over the railing, shooting a string of web to the side of the hotel, so you could swing through the window.

As you landed with a clumsy thump, you noticed Miguel had already gotten back from his reconnaissance check.

He looked positively… pissed off.

Great.

“Lyla, call her,” her grumbled, checking his watch.

“Already did,” she announced, appearing by his shoulder. “Want me to run a diagnostics of the perimeter once again?”

“Do it in five minute intervals,” he said flatly. “The anomaly must be nearby.”

You removed your mask and considered sitting on the bed, but were soon reminded that not even thirty minutes ago, you were getting fucked by Miguel.

A shudder ran through your body.

“You okay?” he asked, his narrowed eyes on you.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

The problem with having impromptu sex was that now you were left to deal with the soreness between your legs, and the frustration of an orgasm that never came to be.

Did Miguel feel the same way?

Your eyes roamed his body, and you find yourself glaring at his-

“Hey! I need you to focus,” Miguel said with a snap of his fingers. “There’s still a chance we deal with it tonight.”

You were about to snap back when a loud distorted buzz filled the room, swirls of flashing lights nearly blinding you, as the inter-dimensional portal expanded quickly in pulsating waves.

Through came Jessica Drew, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.

Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” Miguel growled, pointing at Peter.

“What?” he asked, eyes widening in confusion.

Miguel wasn’t known to be a very patient man, and you reckoned his patience was now hanging by a thread. “I called for Jess. Not you.”

Jess let out an exasperated sigh. “Easy, Miguel. We were both on the same mission.”

He straightened up, but crossed his arms. “Right.”

“Care to explain why I had to leave to be here?” she went on, resting on hand on her swollen belly. “How did you lose track of the anomaly?”

He exchanged a brief look with you. “The sensors didn’t alert us in time.”

That was true.

“Weren’t you supposed to be monitoring, regardless?”

“We dozed off,” you chimed in. “Momentarily! Just for a while.”

Not really true…

Jess glanced at you, suspicion written all over face.

“Sleeping on the job,” she then chuckled, eyeing Miguel deviously. “Didn’t think you’d ever do that, Miguel.”

He narrowed his eyes menacingly. “We weren’t sleeping. We were just resting our eyes for a moment.”

A blatant lie.

“What’s that on your neck?” Peter suddenly asked with a worried look on his face.

Oh….

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the tender hickey spot. “Bug bite.”

“Allergic reaction,” Miguel blurted out at the same time.

Fuck.

You shot him a murderous look.

Jessica arched an eyebrow. “Which one is it?”

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite,” Miguel said with a shrug, growing visibly annoyed.

A wave of relief washed over you momentarily. That seemed plausible enough.

But…

“Oh, really?” she asked with a knowing smile. “What bug? A spid-”

But Miguel was already cutting her off. “We don’t have time for this!”

Peter walked to you, craning your neck to the side. “You should have it checked. It looks serious.”

Ah, Peter… ever the innocent.

“Jess, you stay with us,” Miguel says, dragging Peter away from you at once. “We need an extra pair of eyes.”

She frowned. “No. Peter stays. I need to get some sleep,” she said, patting her belly.

“No!” Miguel growled.

“Actually, I was thinking of heading back home,” Peter drawled out, rubbing the back of his head. “Mayday should be waking up soon.”

“And I’m pregnant,” Jess shot, holding her chin high.

Peter swallowed and fell silent. The deal was sealed.

“Lyla, any updates?”

The hologram popped up instantly. “No, boss.”

Jess glanced over at you one last time, before stepping into the portal once again. “You should really have that checked. Whatever bug did that seems… vicious,” she then slipped into the vortex, which vanished behind her.

You momentarily froze in place, feeling the dread of realisation hit you like a ton of bricks.

She knew.

“I’ll be right back,” Peter drawled out with a yawn and a stretch, disappearing into the bathroom.

The moment you heard rhe door click shut, you turned to Miguel.

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite?” you hissed.

He scowled deeply. “Because simply saying bug bite sounded ridiculous.”

“She didn’t believe it, regardless.”

Miguel was suddenly towering over you, his face twisted in annoyance. “Then why does it matter?”

“Because… you gave me a visible hickey!”

It was a silly thing to get upset about. There were worse things in life than having Miguel O’Hara marking you as a result of built up sexual tension.

But you didn’t want to give in.

“Got carried away,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…”

He cleared his throat. “But I have a problem.”

You looked up at him. “What problem?”

“Well…” he said, glancing at the bathroom door.

“Peter?”

“No!”

You clicked your tongue. “Then what?”

His placed both hands on his hips and glanced down.

Your eyes followed suit.

Oh.

Oh.

“What? Why are you… what?” you stuttered in disbelief at the sight of the outline of his hardened cock.

“Biology, remember?” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s not going away.”

You somehow managed to tear your eyes from the impressive bulge. “Go jerk off, then!”

He had you walk back until you hit the wall behind. “It won’t go away.”

Had you just given Miguel blue balls?

“How’s that my problem?” you huffed, staring intensely into his crimson eyes.

“This is all your fault.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were blaming Biology.”

Before Miguel could retort, the sudden squeak of a door being swung open, had you slipped past him.

Peter emerged, eyeing you both. “Oh, I see what this is.”

Miguel had to move strategically in order to hide his raging boner from him. “What do you mean?”

“I know what’s up with you two,” Peter said, with a playful grin. “All the whispering and whatnot.”

Great.

Were you two that transparent?

“Huh…”

Miguel had pursed his lips.

Peter paced closer to you, eyeing you with a knowing smile. “You’re deciding on Jessica’s birthday present, right?”

You blinked a few times and heard Miguel exhale nearby.

“Right? I knew it!” he threw his arms in the air as if he’d just won the lottery.

In truth, you were simply baffled at how innocent Peter could be. The immediate weight that was lifted off your shoulders was enough to draw a laugh from you.

“Sure!”

“Of course, Peter,” Miguel said, voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm. “We went on this mission, so we could go through birthday checklists.”

A layer of pride settled on Peter’s face. “Ah! You’re growing soft, Miguel.”

You winced at his poor choice of words.

“But fear not!” he said as if he was about to fight off the anomaly himself. “We’ll take turns watching. You two can get some rest and properly plan it out,” he then pinched his thumb and index finger together and dragged them across his lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Miguel didn’t budge at first, but you were all too grateful to stop this insane conversation altogether.

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Of course,” he smiled widely, pacing to the open hotel window, leaping into the the sky night.

You shot Miguel one last look before slipping inside into the comfort of the bedsheets, welcoming the softness.

But you were sorely mistaken if you thought Miguel wouldn’t have followed you.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or two.

You had turned to face the wall, hoping he’d take the hint, and leave you be.

But once you felt his erection pressing into your ass, you knew you were a goner.

There was something extremely empowering about having a man like Miguel be so needy and desperate.

He scooted closer until his breath fanned your ear. “Can you just…”

You scoffed, pride swelling inside you. “Go ask Biology to jerk you off.”

“Whawt?”

“You keep blaming it, so…”

Silence fell between you two.

His hand then came to grip your hip. “It’s you.”

“I didn’t catch that,” you said, feeling his thumb rubbing gently, as he pushed the top half of your suit increasingly higher.

He rolled his hips into you, letting out a shaky moan in your ear that had your skin raise with goosebumps.

You flipped onto your other side to fully face him, and Miguel immediately took your lips with his, kissing you hungrily.

His hand dragged the fabric all the way up until he managed to expose one breast, breaking the kiss only to move down to suck on your hardened nipple.

The thought that he might be too much vaguely crossed your mind. For the second time that night you were meeting a side of Miguel that you had never seen before.

A side you much preferred.

Your fingers dragged through his hair, silently praising him.

In no time, you watched his digital suit disintegrate, giving you full access to the beautifully sculped body underneath.

He gripped your wrist and lowered it until your fingers grazed his cock. Knowing fully well what he craved, you wrapped them around it, earning an immediate jerk of his hips.

“Miguel…” you moaned, letting him freely fuck your hand, spilling more and more precum.

He released your nipple and had his forehead resting on your shoulder, his hand on top of your, making sure you squeezed tighter and tighter.

It didn’t take long for your hand to be soaked with precum, making it easier for him to slide up and down.

You squeezed involuntarily and a gush of wetness spilled into your underwear, your body yearning for him to fill you up with his cock.

He moved his hips deliciously, and you focused on taking in the wet sounds that filled the room as well as his breathless grunts.

But such bliss was short-lived as you heard Peter bolting into the room with a swish of his web.

Well…

Miguel immediately stilled, letting go of your hand.

You didn’t let go of his cock, instead peeking over his shoulder only to find Peter rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor.

He then turned to face you, and your head immediately slumped against the pillow, eyes on Miguel’s.

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

Peter’s voice was but a whisper. “Your heart rate is accelerated.”

Ah… spider senses.

“Yeah… I’m just a bit tense… it’s fine,” you muttered, feeling Miguel’s cock twitch in your hand. “Go get some rest. I’ll take over.”

“Oh! Thank you,” he beamed. “Mayday has been giving us terrible nights, and I could use a few minutes.”

You watched as he fluffed out his pillow before settling down on his back with a yawn.

Miguel’s breathing has steadied momentarily and you eventually let go of him.

But he quickly got a hold of your wrist.

The implication of that action wasn’t exactly subtle and you widened your eyes.

“No,” you mouthed right away.

His crimson eyes had darkened and you spotted his fangs from behind his lips.

You shook your head vehemently.

This was a bad idea.

But as soon as Peter’s snores tore through the room, you felt your heart clench.

“Peter is right there… he will hear it!”

He pressed an urgent kiss to your forehead. “We’ll be quiet. I’ll help you be quiet,” he promised, pressing his cock further into your already soaked crotch.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and just as you were about to let out a low whimper, you felt his hand cover your mouth, effectively reigning it in.

“Quiet.”

The other travelled down painfully slowly, palm grazing your exposed breast briefly, before resting just above the waistline of your suit.

“You have to be quiet,” he warned in a barely audible tone.

You nodded and he lifted his hand from your lips.

“We shouldn’t…” you muttered under your breath.

But your words were not matching your actions, as you dragged your hand covered in precum across his hard chest, taking your time to gently rub his nipple with your thumb.

You thought Miguel had stopped breathing altogether, but soon realised he was merely attempting to hold back a moan.

His fingers quickly slipped past the the waistline, finding your clit and drawing small circles. You had to bite your lip hard to suppress a whimper, rolling your hips into him.

You found his cock again, gripping it desperately and giving him a few pumps that matched the tempo of his strokes.

The thrill of indulging in such experience even when someome else was in the room, and with the increased chances of being caught, merely added to the pleasure you were already feeling.

“You’re doing good,” Miguel praised you through a shaky breath. “So good…”

Impatience took over and you wiggled out of your bottom half of the suit, allowing you to grant him betterr acces, as hou parted your legs.

He immediately seized it and slipped one finger inside.

You had to clasp your hand over your mouth to keep from groaning, eyes fluttering shut.

His breath was on your ear again. “Can you take one more?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. A second finger immediately joined the first one, slinding inside effortlessly.

Feeling that you had managed to keep yourself under control, you dropped the hand covering your lips to grip his cock.

“And another one?”

You shook your head, fearing that would be too much. He pressed a kiss to your neck with a sigh, as he fucked your hand in a slow rhythm.

The knots of pleasure in your lower abdomen let you know that you were headed towards the precipice. You kept on riding his fingers relentlessly, your mind suddenly hazy from the feeling of being so full of him already.

“I’m close…” he mouthed, his breath shaky and cock twitching.

He had bared his fangs, and you thought you’d combust on the spot, realising he was truly overwhelmed with pleasure.

Finding your voice again, you whispered sensually, “Where do you want to cum?”

His eyed widened, pupils fully blown.

Your hips faltered briefly, grazing your clit across the palm of his hand. “Inside?”

He pressed his eyes shut and dug his fangs into his lower lip. “I won’t last.”

“I know,” you moaned, dragging thumb across his tip, feeling more droplets of warm precum coating your skin.

Peter suddenly let out a loud snore that made you jolt.

“Are you close?” Miguel asked.

“I’ll be with you inside me.”

You shifted on the mattress, and he removed his fingers from you at once, a wet sound filling the room.

Your body shuddered from the loss, but you soon felt his tip proding your entrance.

Before you could take another breath, he jerked his hips and slipped past your fold effortlessly.

His hand was on your mouth again, and this time you could taste yourself, as he struggled to keep your moans at a minimum.

It was also evident the sudden position was taking a toll on him. His steady pace was faltering with each passing second.

You soon entered the familiar point of no return, feeling an intense wave of pleasure tear from within you, blinding your vision with each pulse and contraction. It took all of your not to moan out loud even against his hand, the few shreds of sanity having a hold on you.

Miguel joined you, clearly not able to withstand the rhythmic squeezes around his cock as you reached your high.

Your caught a glimpse oh him biting the back of his other hand hard. He would for sure draw blood with his fangs, but you couldn’t even stay properly focused.

He bottomed out as deep as he could, spurts of cum coating your squeezing walls.

The two of you were struggling to breathe, shallow pants surrounding you.

“Oh my god! Butterfly!”

Peter…

You jerked away from Miguel in distress but with him still buried deep inside you, catching a glimpse of Peter sitting on the floor, breathing rapidly.

“Go back to sleep. It was just a dream,” you said with a smile.

Miguel pulled you into an embrace. “You did good.”

“Me? Not Biology?”

He scowled deeply.

“You can slide out now…” you whispered with a yawn.

Miguel didn’t move. “I want to stay a little longer likes this.”

Masterlist

[winterzsurprise]

Thirty Minutes || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: After convincing Miguel to take a break from working, he generously granted you thirty minutes with him and you know how you'd spend it.

Words: 1.7k

Tags: NOT BETA READ, smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, big dick Miguel, standing sex, deep penetration, fang play, office sex (i guess?)

This is so rushed but he just do things to me. He breathes and I start giggling and twirling my hair. I am so feral for him I'm sorry (not sorry). I swear I'll bring more flavor next time :''DD

forgor to note that the glasses part is heavily inspired by that one scene from a kdrama named "Business Proposal".

hermosa - beautiful || cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love

Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.

You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.

But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.

Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.

Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.

"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."

So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.

The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.

"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"

"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."

Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."

"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."

"And you're here because you're also concerned?"

You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, Miguel?”

Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Ock variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.

His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of 

You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple  dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.

He's criminally dashing.

After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.

How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?

Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”

“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”

Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.

“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.”

You grinned. "That's all I need."

He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.

His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.

Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.

"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"

"You know it'll last longer than thirty."

"I doubt that."

His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.

"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"

"Don't 'boss' me, hermosa and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."

His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.

Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.

"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"

"Shut up and just touch me, please."

He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."

He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.

It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.

Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.

But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.

Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.

Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.

"You didn't squirt? What a shame."

"F-fuck you."

"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."

Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.

"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking."

Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.

His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.

The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.

You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you. 

"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"

"Yes yes yes…!"

One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"

You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.

"No-not too much. It'll show."

Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"

"T-they'll find out."

He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."

Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.

"That's it. Give it to me."

Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul. 

"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."

You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."

Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.

With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.

Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you."

Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.

"Who said you're leaving, cariño?"

[the-universal-sun]

If it's okay: Present day Ford crying his heart out? 👉👈

He went through so much, he deserves to be small and taken care of

Of course it’s okay! And I agree, Ford needs to be cuddles and coddled after all he’s been through!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ford startles as a loud bang echoed out from outside the shack; flinching and covering his ears, dropping his Legos and Dr. Mittens. He pants, his chest feeling tight. ‘It can’t be’ he thinks to himself ‘I’m safe here. This is home, no one from those other dimensions can get here. Get me. Get my family.’ Despite these thoughts, his lips wobble and his eye sting with tears, what if someone came to hurt him? He can’t stop the cries that come from his mouth, his adult brain knows it’s probably just the trashcan lid falling, but he can’t think with his adult brain now. He’s feeling smaller now, his thoughts are smaller now. Logic and reasoning don’t always apply to his Big and Scary Thoughts.

“Ford, Buddy? You alright I heard-Ford! What happened!” Stan called out, his walk into the living room turning into a sprint when he sees Ford crying. “C’mon, tell me what’s wrong, huh? What hurts!?” Stan tries to calm his panicked voice, hovering frantically over Ford.

“Th-the-hic-the noise o-outside. C-coming to get me!” Ford wailed, turning and burying his head into Stan’s shoulder. One hand grabbing Dr. Mittens from the ground, the other going to pull his hair. His hand gets intercepted before it can do that, Stan pulling it away and holding it in one of his with a soft “please don’t” being uttered with the movement.

“Who’s coming to get you, Bud? Hmm? The noise was just Fidds’ raccoon wife getting into the trash can again, nothing more.” Stan doesn’t get it! Ford’s made so many enemies, someone is bound to come find him! He yanks on Stan’s hand in lieu on answering, finding it hard to find the right words to explain. Why can’t he just understand!

“Hey, we don’t yank or pull on limbs, Stanford. Come on, let’s dry those tears and calm down just a little okay? And then maybe you can explain what’s got you so scared.” Stan wraps an arm around Ford’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug, repetitively patting Ford’s arm in an effort to help regulate his breathing.

He breathes in and out with Stan’s tapping, his panting slowing down but the tears still coming fast and hot down his face. He swallows the lump in his throat, clutching Dr. Mittens to his chest, resisting to urge to nibble his ear. “The-the bang noise. ‘Scared me an’ I thought it-it was someone from that time coming to hurt me again an’, an’,” he buries his head in his knees for a moment, Stan letting his, before he takes a big breathe and finishes his sentence, “An’ I got Big Thoughts, Scary ones that wouldn’t go away.” He finishes lamely, closing his eyes as his brother wipes his tears with his top. His nose scrunches up at the smell at Stan’s sweat.

“Oh, those capital ‘Big’ and ‘Scary’ thoughts, it must’ve been really bad, huh, Sixer. But don’t worry, we’ve checked just today, no inter dimensional anomalies or presences, our radar would’ve gone off if there were.” Oh. Ford didn’t think of that. He sniffles, huddling in closer to Stan, basically on his lap, resting his head into the side of his neck. This is why he needs Stan, he’s always there to chase away his Scarey Thoughts, and if chasing doesn’t work, punch them away. That’s why Stan’s his Buddy. The thought of Stan punching his literal thoughts away brings a giggle to Ford’s throat. And more spill out as Stan ruffles his hair.

“Oh? What’s so funny now, you laughin’ at this old man?” Stan points to himself.

“No-o-o-o!” Ford giggles, his hair being ruffled makes him feeling ticklish all over, “Buddy! ‘M not!” He laughs loudly as Stan falls over dramatically, Ford clutched in his arms. They lay there laughing for a good few minutes, Eventually settling down as Ford clings to Stan’s front, not wanting him to leave him.

“Stay, Buddy?” He asks Stan, using his best puppy dog eyes, a weakness of his brothers, but one he’s willing to exploit. And it works, Stan holds him tighter and closer, nuzzling his head and tickling it a little with his sigh.

“Of course, Sixer. As long as you want. We can even nap here-“ Ford cuts him off with an indignant “No” because he has his designated nap spot and it’s not on the living room carpet, it’s his little fort in his and Stan’s room. “Okay, no naps in here then, guess I’ll have to move my brittle old bones alllll the way to our room, huh?” Ford nods his head, glad Stanley got it. But he didn’t make any moves, content to just lay here, not quite all the way calm yet. Besides, he doesn’t have nap time for another hour and-he calculates in his head-seventeen minutes, plenty of time to lay in Stan’s arms on the living room floor.

“Alright, alright. I’ll move you when it’s nap time, just stay here in my arms until then, I need some Ford Floor Time.” Stan squeezes him tighter, Ford melting into the pressure. Well, he who was he to argue with Stan needing Ford Time? Signing, he basks softly in the calming presence of his brother for the next hour-and-now-16 minutes.

[dont-know-where]

ALRIGHT MORE LEVITY RISES IDEAS! THIS TIME FOR SMILE PUP! (Plus randomly assorted LR ideas/hcs)

Smile Pup

Smile Pup (or SP for short) is still trying to make an eternal party (Smilegeddon?), but it's more "I'm gonna spread happiness across the multiverse by making everyone else happy, whether they want to be or not :D" and less "MY FRIENDS AND I ARE GONNA TEAR THE MULTIVERSE TO SHREDS AND MAKE IT INTO PARTY HATS WOOOOOO!!!"

Imagine the Mabel Bubble, but one for everyone. That's it that's Smilegeddon.

SP is both of the Pups btw. It's kind of a hivemind situation??

Smile Dip was a thing SP inspired to form better communication between SP and humans, but it got...discontinued.

SP is a dream demon, but one under more...specific conditions. SP can only enter the mindscape of people coming off an energy burst. So all Mabel has to do to talk to the pups is chug a cup of Mabel Juice, run around for an hour or so, and pass out.

SP makes a deal with Mabel! SP gives Mabel art tips and pointers on where to find anomalies in Levity Rises, and she helps her brother and his girlfriendddddd ooooooo work on the mysterious portal in his basement! A win-win-win!

Assorted Ideas

Ford knows how to knit (only a bit though...the most he can make are six-fingered gloves. Mabel teaches him a bit more though!)

Dipper had claustrophobia! But after Sixer helped him! (by leading him into a cave and getting them lost, thereby proving he can survive anything and curing his claustrophobia) On an unrelated note, Sixer has claustrophobia now.

Pacifica makes the memory gun, but it's reserve for her and her alone. Eventually, Fiddleford finds the blueprints and makes his own version, starting the Society of the Blind Eye just a year or two before Stanley and Sixer arrive at Levity Rises.

Along with gravity shortages, anyone caught in the power surge that the inter-dimensional portal creates feels like someone pumped their brains full of pure joy. (Because cmon. Levity Rises. Levity.)

[pleasured-ambrosia]

hi!! could you do a drabble of miguel protecting fem!reader from an ex or something like that? also i love your work !!

((Might get put on Ao3. Have not decided. College is hard. This was also written to be like pre-ASTV, back when Miguel wasn’t so sad and grumpy.))

The sound of your back popping breaks the long silence in Miguel’s office, your arms stretching to the ceiling as you let out a yawn. You had begun the long process of cataloging the many anomalies faced by fellow Spider-People that morning. However, even as the little clock at the bottom of your laptop screen flashes the late hour of the night, your stack of encounters is still tall enough to wobble at the slightest bump against your desk. The reports—if one could even call them that—are a mix of typed and written sheets of paper, as well as the stray napkin blobbed with ketchup or more mysterious substances.

Although it had been your idea to keep a database of anomaly encounters, you couldn’t have predicted that Spider-People had such . . . diverse forms of keeping track of their adventures.

A mug appears in your peripheral, breaking you from your thoughts. Your eyes follow the large hand wrapped around its handle, landing on the vague shape of Miguel O’Hara’s face, lit only by the orange hues of his computers. At one point, he had offered to teach you how to use them, but the process only put off your project’s completion further.

“I’m just taking a break,” you half-defend, half-yawn.

“Nah,” replies Miguel, nudging the mug closer to you. “You’re done for the night. Get some sleep.”

You sipped from the mug, letting the taste of herbal tea drown out your complaints. Your eyes take in Miguel’s form, noting that his usual blue and red suit was replaced with a gray jogging suit better-suited for your dimension than his. “No patrolling tonight?”

“I will after I take you home.”

You raise a brow with a small grin. “I can work a portal just fine, you know.”

“It’s not that.” Miguel’s stance shifts as he shoves his large hands into his pockets. “I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

Your grin widens. “So I can’t take care of myself, is that it?”

Miguel lets out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat. “No, I didn’t mean it like that . . . Por Dios, I just mean—“

“Miguel, relax. I’m messing with you. Walk me home if you want, but I have to stop by the store on the way home. Sound good?”

“As long as it’s quick.” Yet Miguel didn’t seem to mean it, watching as you pack up your laptop and roll up its charging cable. The two of you look almost normal standing in Miguel’s office, with him dressed in sweats and you opting out of your Spider-ensemble for an oversized sweater and a pair of jeans. You sling your laptop bag over your shoulder, imagining what it would be like for Miguel to walk you to a train or a bus rather than busting out a portal. You could probably make a decent living off data entry, but what would Miguel do? Maybe he would be a scientist, and despite working in two different departments, maybe he would become your friend.

“What’re you thinking about?” Miguel asks. He taps a button on his watch (which he would insist is, in fact, way cooler than a watch.) A portal of geometric shapes in red, orange, and yellow opens in the middle of Miguel’s lab, swirling with anticipation.

The vision of Miguel in a white coat and a button-up makes you snort. “Nothing.”

Before Miguel can press further, you grab his forearm and drag him through the portal.

Miguel has more practice at inter-dimensional than you, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that he remained calm as the portal thrusted the two of you through time and space. You, however, are less professional, waving your arms and resisting the urge to scream as your stomach turns into knots.

Landing on his feet, Miguel catches you before you can face plant onto the pavement of Earth-575, otherwise known as home. Your face burns with embarrassment as it hits the center of his chest and your arms wrap around Miguel’s middle. He’s warm, you think. And soft!

It was obvious to everyone in the Spider-Society that Miguel was in great shape. After all, most of the Spider training regiments had come from some of his own workouts. The man could probably rearrange your apartment without breaking a sweat, which was why it came as such a shock that despite Miguel’s muscles, you feel ready to snuggle into him like a pillow.

“You should really work on sticking that landing.”

You push Miguel away to glare up at his smug face. “You’ll get humbled real fast when I knock your ass to the ground.”

At that, Miguel roars with laughter. “I’d like to see you try.”

You huff, spinning around to take a look at the nearest street sign. The nearest convenience store is only two blocks away, making your apartment only an extra two. “Let’s move it, O’Hara. If you’re nice, I’ll buy you a snack.”

Although Miguel could very well buy his own snacks, he follows you anyways, taking extra care to shorten his strides so that he can walk by your side. Most of the residents of your city are tucked in bed by now, although a handful of lights accompany the sporadic streetlights. Besides the occasional rat or partygoer, you and Miguel are the only ones still out.

“Did you think the college kids were going to kidnap me in the middle of the night?” you tease.

“Absolutely,” Miguel deadpans. “They’d lock you in the basement of their frat house, and you’d starve because they haven’t gone grocery shopping since the semester started.”

“Is that what you did in college? Lure people into your frat house of doom?”

“Absolutely not.” Miguel beams with pride, his chest puffing out. “I was on the quiz bowl team.”

Your cackles bounce off the tall buildings lining the streets. Tears spring from the corners of your eyes as you clutch your stomach to keep it from aching. You can picture it now: a scrawny, awkward Miguel with thick glasses frantically consulting his team for the championship-winning answer.

“And when did you become all of this?” you ask, gesturing at Miguel.

He ponders this for a moment. “I didn’t become Spider-Man until I joined Alchemax, but I guess I branched out a little more towards the end of undergrad. Got more into working out, making connections.”

You turn around a corner, finding the entrance to a small convenience store. A small bell rings as you pull open the door, Miguel propping his arm over your head so that you can enter first.

“I’ll just be a second,” you assure him.

“One,” Miguel starts.

“Real mature, O’Hara.”

“Two.”

“Seriously, I’m going to web your mouth shut.”

“Three.”

“I swear to God—“

“Four—“

You make a beeline for the coolers towards the back, tuning out Miguel’s chuckling. By the time you pick out a half-gallon of milk, he’s perusing the long aisles of chips. You never really stopped to ask what kind of brands and flavors Miguel has in his dimension. They banned cigarettes and absurdly large sodas at gas stations, but that was all you heard. You make a mental note to ask, maybe even to buy Miguel something new to try.

You load up on a mishmash of items that hardly pass for a late-night dinner, filling your arms with small plastic bowls of cereal, styrofoam cups of ramen, and an overpriced bag of beef jerky. It’s not until you start weighing the pros and cons of ice cream over chocolate that you notice him.

His hair is longer than when you saw him last, curling around his ears in dark tufts. His guitar case is slung over his shoulder, and judging by the heavy eyeshadow and leather pants, he must’ve had a gig earlier.

You decide to skip grabbing something sweet, spinning around to make a beeline for the cashier when he calls out your name.

Shit.

You turn around slowly, heart hammering in your throat. It takes everything in you to force a smile. “Kasey, hey.”

“Long time no see. Haven’t seen you at The Clover lately.”

“Oh, you know,” you’re thankful that the bundle of snacks in your arms gives you something to hold, “just been busy. Haven’t had time to go out.”

You used to rehearse this moment in the bathroom. You had a whole script where you laid everything out on the table—gave Kasey the verbal beat down he deserved. Yet as you stand across from him, the words won’t come out. Is it my Spidey-sense? you wonder, but this feels different. Your Spidey-sense always led you to action. Whatever this was . . . it was paralyzing.

“I tried texting you,” Kasey continues.

I changed my number, you want to say.

“I haven’t been checking my messages lately.” Your voice cracks at the end, and you can tell Kasey noticed. Kasey always noticed.

“We should grab a drink, then. I actually just finished up tonight if you want to—“

“Are you ready to go?”

A large arm wraps around the small of your back and pulls you close, prompting a small oomf. You tilt your head back to look at Miguel. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’m ready.”

Kasey says your name again and smiles, sending a shiver down your spine. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Miguel smiles down at Kasey, who barely reaches his chest. The expression looks more like a test than one out of sincerity. “I’m Miguel, and you are interrupting our date.”

Before you can reply, Miguel steers you to the cashier. He sets a bag of chips you didn’t even realize he was holding onto the counter and waits for you to do the same. You reach for your wallet, but Miguel’s faster, handing the cashier a twenty and not bothering to wait for the change as he takes the plastic grocery bags. As he escorts you out of the convenience store, you catch one last glimpse of Kasey’s slack-jawed face.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you moan halfway down the block.

“I have paid for your snacks plenty of times.”

“No, not that. You shut him up just like that!” You snap your fingers for emphasis. “And you said we were on a date. And you put your arm around me!”

“It was the first thing that came to mind!” argues Miguel. “I didn’t need your Spider-sense—“

“Spidey-sense.”

“Lo que sea—to tell that you needed a little help.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Some great hero I am,” you grumble. “Can’t even handle an ex-boyfriend on my own.”

“We all have people that get under our skin. And sometimes no matter how hard we try to get them out, we can’t.”

Miguel’s gaze focuses on the street ahead, his face contemplative.

“You know, a convenience store would be a pretty lame first date.”

Miguel shrugs. “Well, if you’re going to be so ungrateful, I guess I’ll just eat all of this junk food myself.”

You did not tease Miguel for the rest of the night.

[maggotbrainzzzz]

first off tell me about every single one of your original characters

two, here's a gift for you :)

wait MIKE NO YOU CAN'T SAY THAT

Hehehe.. Mike is very silly..

Every single one.. THAT’D TAKE AGES-

BUT I WILL EXPLAIN MY ONE OF MY OC UNIVERSES, TRIP N FALL!

The main characters are Vern, Kel and Dupe. They’re being hunted down by the IDTP for ‘misuse of Subspace Tripmines’ (and other inter-dimensional crimes)

Vern is an anxious dude who’s recently been cursed with immortality

Kel is a motorcycle racer that always crashes (he tries lmao)

Dupe doesn’t have very.. known origins. He refuses to talk about his past.

After finding a supply of Subspace Tripmines, they suddenly got employed by Harvey, a shifty man with very strange morals. Their ‘work’ is just trying to thwart the plans of the IDTP. They work with Meddle and Rose. (Also- their little gang is called Trip N Fall.. Weow.. the name of the story..)

The IDTP is an inter-dimensional police force, aiming to take out anyone they see as an anomaly. There are normal guards but there are also three head officers. These head officers are DJ, IT and DR.

The IDTP has an unknown boss..

GOING BACK TO VERN AND THE WHOLE IMMORTALITY THING-

The reason why he’s immortal is because a few days before the event that kicked off the story of Trip N Fall (finding the Subspace Tripmines), he found a random necklace. He put it on not knowing that he can never take it off and that it’ll make him immortal.

AND THE VERY BEING MAKING HIM IMMORTAL IS..

The Spirit Of Immortality.

A chaotic being that occasionally possesses Vern. They’re extremely energetic and dangerous but their powers are limited by the fact that Vern is NOT strong.

They’re constantly trying to convince Vern to do horrible things.

Whenever they fully posses Vern, Harvey usually finds a way to kick them out lol.

THATS IT FOR NOW..

Theres a lot more but I can’t explain it all here. There are sideplots and other side characters…

[noxeorn]

Ay, don't you dare to create inter-dimensional space anomaly!

It was some really random idea I've got while listening to music xD Well ig I know now what my noodle looks like as an actual VOID

[moonfurthetemmie]

you will never believe what happened again

this is the second funkiest swap au i've made. the first funkiest remains hidden in dms and they haven't even gotten their names yet, but their secrecy is probably for the best right now since the current name is fucking beechswapswap and i can't take it seriously like that

anyway have some heroforge and names of the newest one while i figure out what the fuck is going on with some of them. I have major details, but minor ones are still being worked out.

i also need a better au name but that's not quite so important

Rayonnant (Jet) (name source)

rayonnant is about to sock someone. it may or may not be OG obsidian. it's far more likely that it's not, but it took me less than a day to decided they'd starting fighting 2 minutes after meeting and put each other in a body cast and learn absolutely nothing from that. so it's totally og obsidian.

he's rather violent. I was going to say 'violent for a Jet alt' but no he's just Violent. up there with obsidian himself. which is part of why i think they're going to try to kill each other the first time they meet.

he will let. one (1) person call him 'Ray'. and that person is shrike. and only when they're alone. Baroque was probably allowed at one point, but either has had that privileged revoked or is just too afraid to say it at all now since Rayonnant gets reeaally mad about anyone hearing that nickname

Baroque (Dark) (that also came from architecture, though 'Baroque' is a descriptor/name for several other things)

someone had to help me with the color for baroque's jacket. and it took me an age just to figure out what kind of a pose I wanted him to have. but here he is. he's got more anxiety than dark but is better at hiding it. slightly. just slightly.

His soul is in the same half-n-half positivity/corruption state that og Jade's is in. so he's still blonde, but has the greyblue/pale yellow eyes that og Dark, a full corrupt, has.

the blonde is reminding me of…something. i can envision it in my head but i have no idea what it's called or how to describe it.

Shrike (Obsidian)

Shrike's pose also killed me. I didn't want him to try to rest his elbow on the goddam SPIKES on his GLOVES so i turned that hand over. i swapped the arm positions, thinking it'd make more visual sense that way, and was still unhappy with it but absolutely did not want to try again so he's staying like that. we suffer together.

please also observe the full scars and the tattoo + Magic Marking Bullshit that the coat hid. probably the only time any version of Obsidian what would have a bird tattoo. *technically*, its a swallow. as far as I'm concerned though it's a shrike.

'why is he shirtless' you'll never guess. you'll never ever guess why. the obsidian alt being shirtless shall be a mystery for the ages. (joking)

coughs also there was another obsidian alt that i, at one point, genderbent and thought it would be in-character for her to just have an open jacket and a bra. then remembered that her original male counterpart is completely covered up, and that just felt so ungirlboss of me. so. um. just in case. y'know. for. for science reasons. tbh tho i kinda think a genderbent shrike would wear a shirt. no idea why (genuine)

…oh my god wait his entire vibe reminds me of Lear (theater kid au) (not the actual Shakespeare character). god dammit (laughing)

Lark (Jade)

dont ask me what lark's pose is. all four of them were fighting me on poses. he's just concerned okay. for Baroque.

prebby stars. so prebby. the star + galaxy decals they added (ssomewhat) recently are so cool..........

he's a full corrupt, too, like OG Dark

Hoatzin (Quartz) (name source)

hoatzin was slapped together in like 15 minutes because i needed to go to bed but kept saying 'okay let me just do this one part' and then suddenly i had a whole entire Woman.

also she hasn't taken those braids out in months, at best, and if and when she ever does that bit of hair is gonna be sooooooooo wavy

she is also have THE worst time out of everyone on the team. sorry hoatzin.

Starling (Zuli)

Starling has wrist-mounted blades for melee, a spear for when he wants a little bit of distance but is still in melee range, and a gun.

The closest to Hoatzin, but that's not really saying much. considering he just happens to stay furthest away from her biggest problem whenever he can, and she can't feel emotions at all so she doesn't really care about him all that much.

maybe it'll change tho. who knows.

Cassowary/'Cass' (Mercury)

cass needs some help but tbf so does everyone else. he's just. gonna have a harder time getting out of there than the rest of the team. not that he realizes it.

Took me an age and a day to figure out what he and Thrush's backstories were, but I have it now. The brass knuckles helped. also a science sans alt got his hands on those AND a semi-automatic pistol? it's so funny to me. sci with a gun AND brass fucking knuckles to crack bone. And he's a hell of a lot stronger than he looks. At least in his fighting gear; if he's wearing a T-shirt you become notably less surprised by his strength.

just be glad it wasn't the foot-long handheld claw things.

His glasses are technically goggles. He doesn't trust normal glasses not to fall off while he's fighting. i don't really do a lot of hand to hand combat (or any combat at all outside of video games), but i wouldn't trust my glasses either.

FASCINATING scar also. wonder where that came from. totally not the guy manipulating him ahahaha that'd be crazy

not that anyone will be able to tell, but i just did a Save As of Francisco and all i did to adjust the body was add more muscle. this is useless information but you have it anyway

Thrush (Jasper)

he's doing his best. unlike the khakis. that's the adjusted version of the color they called khaki. we don't get nice things with the colors sometimes.

he's fucking strong. he looks strong but do you have any idea how heavy an axe that size is???? he could chuck you across the room. he should use all those muscles to hug and smooch me. Huh who said that

He used to be very friendly, but. you don't really feel like being friendly when your boss is an evil overlord blackmailing you, so you have to go terrorize people when he says to. with his face all over the fucking news now, though, he uh. he doesn't really. want to try to talk to people. because he doesn't want to start trouble. but i mean other than that he's super sweet! (said with an unconvincing smile)

he's good friends with Cass in particular, though he and Starling get along pretty well too. Most of the time. Starling's...surprisingly yappy.

Loon (Zircon)

that is the least awkward pose I could get him. he's got a second shoe i just wanted to shoe robot leg.

Left (viewer's right) leg amputated above the knee. Left eye no longer functional due to injury, and was getting really nasty and infected so they had to take it out entirely. Several minor injuries. Pretty nasty magic blast to right leg. Really, really nasty magic blast right to the chest from two whole directions. TLDR he's goddamn lucky he's alive.

The worst of them (chest + left leg, but mostly chest) cause him pain pretty regularly, and will do so...pretty much the rest of his life. The chest one is really easy to aggravate. He was deemed too disabled by his superiors and is now a retired veteran house husband.

Astrapia (Koroit) (name source)

theoretically, she has a tattoo of a caduceus on her left arm. heroforge doesn't have that tho.

girl gets, understandably, irritated when she tells the others to rest (or take your goddamn meds or just. stretch. so you don't pull your muscles like that again. cass.) and no one listens. she goes "do you think i'm here to hang out???? I was brought here to be the doctor and none of you are even listening to me. sit the fuck down." and they all go ",,,sorry astrapia" and they straighten up. which is good because she was about to prescribe them electroshock therapy (she'd have threatened it, but not actually do it)

also bonus astrapia in a suit because i'm gay and women is suits are one of my favorite things ever

in unrelated news (eh. it's tangential) i, a person with boobs, forgot that when they who have titties want to cross their arms, they either have to put them ON TOP OF or UNDERNEATH said titties. one of which isn't possible in heroforge. i'll let you guess which. anyway this made me realize i've only actually done the arm crossing thing on flat- or mostly flat-chested characters? which feels weird

Eostrix (Paraiba) (name source)

guess who paraiba swapped with

Since she comes from a fantasy-type AU I wanted that to be reflected in both outfits; at least a little bit? And here we are. prisoners do not get shoe rights apparently. at least Eostrix is having a better time than Zuli was. still needs to get the FUCK out

Petrel (Silver)

i need an excuse for how and why still, but those are vials of positivity. and Petrel is, reasonably, quite terrified of Rayonnant finding them. They don't know if he knows about the vials, but they'd like to keep him ignorant if they can.

Still; on the off chance that he does know about them, she's doing her best to stay hidden. Never hurts. Especially when you were friends with someone who was last seen with Rayonnant, and he and your girlfriend mutual friend mysteriously vanished afterwards.

[strawberryshortcake1495]

The Rise and Fall of a Northwest Princess 👑

Now I came up with all of this in a dream I had during a school nap about 5 hours ago, so I’ll just start by explaining what this AU is. This AU is a mashup of the Only Child AU by @Inumari12 (albeit slightly altered), Reverse Portal AU, and Mr. Bill Pines AU by @honeqq (love their art).

Mr. and Mrs. Pines were expecting twins, but the male baby, Mason, was born with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air and thus killing him. The female, Mabel, grew up as an only child who was rejected by her parents and society for being autistic, which to her doesn’t make her any different than all the other kids. She heard countless stories about her stillborn twin brother and really desperately wanted him to survive. To live, to exist alongside her. Maybe he could’ve been autistic too. Maybe she could’ve had a real friend.

One day, her parents sent her off to stay with her great uncles Stanford and Bill for the summer. She was happy to get away from her nasty hometown and was quick to pack her bags and get on the bus. As it drove away, she swore she saw her mother looking relieved to have her gone. When she got there, she was surprised to find out Grunkle Ford was the owner of a successful company who created this thing called “Oddology” (whatever that means). Ford was very warm and friendly to his great niece, but then Mabel asked where Grunkle Bill was. Ford simply told her he was in the basement but it was best not to go down there because of all the “anomalous” mechanics. But his niece was Mabel Pines. If you tell her not to do something, you know damn well she’s gonna do it.

Shenanigans pursue, and Mabel finds out her lovely Grunkle Bill was actually just some one-eyed yellow triangle. Ford calmly explained to her that Bill was an inter-dimensional chaos demon who fell in love with Ford. Bill is a little silly but he’s seriously not a bad guy. Fiddleford and Stan would beg to differ, though. Ford and Fiddleford had a falling out because of his relationship with Bill and for some strange reason, Fiddleford managed to contact Stan (Ford still doesn’t know how he got his number) and send him down to Gravity Falls to talk some sense into his brother while his mind deteriorated away due to the memory gun. Stuff happens, and Stan gets pushed through the portal. Bill secretly feels super guilty about this and helped his husband with trying to bring him back. Ford doesn’t tell Mabel this until after Stan comes out of the portal, though.

Mabel spends some time with Bill and they click easily. Knowing that he’s practically a god who can do anything he wants, she tells him one simple thing. She wants her brother back. Bill doesn’t resurrect Mason cause deep down he knows the boy was always meant to die at birth so instead he creates this phantom clone with no face and his whole body is pitch black (except for his fluffy brown hair). Mabel names him “Dipper” and decides he is enough. Then she gets to work on knitting clothes for him. She only knits sweaters cause Dipper was born wearing his red shirt, grey shorts, and white socks (obviously he didn’t spawn naked). Dipper doesn’t speak but communicates through noises, actions, body language, or just messages written in blood. Despite his unnerving appearance, Dipper is actually really sweet and polite, always doing what Mabel asks of him.

In a giant International Institute building with nothing but a man, his demon husband, a little girl and her monster brother, along with officers and workers studying anomalies, what can go wrong? Mabel knows deep in her heart that this will be the best summer ever!

[comically-blu]

A timeline where Shermie gets thrown out of the portal by accident instead of Ford and Stan!

More below!

Just as I said in an ask, there’s two versions of this exact scenario that happened. But this one is more about the one where Shermie is included in Stan & Ford’s fight in Ford’s paranoia era. I thought out a few info to this :]

Basically as summarized, Shermie got in the portal as he was de-escalating the fight between Stan and Ford. Just when he calmed them down, the portal got activated, leaving Stan and Ford in shock. Then, Shermie gets into all kinds of shenanigans while Stan & Ford plan and handles the conquesences of his disappearance. Especially with the military and Penelope’s prying eyes.

Bill is still his evil self in this– using Shermie to basically guilt trip Ford through dreams and other methods. Though, Shermie gets on his nerves. Bill also calls Shermie as Pinecone.

For the ending: Shermie does return much quicker on his own and doesn’t kill Bill. Why? Even though Shermie knows how risky his circumstances are with Bill chasing him, Shermie is actually left in the dark about Bill and anomalies. Ford never told him completely everything nor Shermie saw how invulnerable Bill and his Hench-maniacs were. So he avoids Bill as he got home via another inter dimensional device. He is that desperate to get home.

That leads to Ford, Shermie, and maybe Stan handling the rift earlier than canon.

Edit: forgot to write in that since Portal! Shermie returns much earlier, he is actually almost 50 years old! Almost a decade younger than canon Ford lol

[pearlsinmyhair]

₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: there’s death in this one. miles being injured. self deprecating thoughts from miles (brief). suicidal themes (brief). cursing/language.

let’s do this guys. reminder that birth miguel and star girl have trauma that hasn’t been dealt with.

part i | part ii | part iii

word count: 3.3k

pt iv: the price

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

prophet girl,

chosen by the sun,

do you hear the gods whispering

those silent stardust words?

it had been three months when hobie jumped through the window of your bedroom to tell you what was happening.

you had been cooking at the stove, boiling water and checking the seasoning cabinet when you heard the tell tale thump of hobie’s boots on your floor.

you expected the usual: hobie wanted to hang, maybe listen to music, maybe take you to his dimension for a show.

but then he stepped out of the bedroom doorway, wearing a look of cold disdain, and you realized something was truly wrong.

but you were getting ahead of yourself.

₊ ⊹

the three months without fighting anomalies or training with miguel had been fine. typical. normal.

but you hated normalcy, especially after the madness of inter-dimensional travel.

and on the quiet nights, where hobie was too busy to visit and there was no crime, you felt lonely.

you didn’t have close friends in your demension, all thanks to how much time you dedicated being spider-woman. when you were just defending your own new york you spent most of your time fighting. but the addition of miguel’s apprenticeship had left you with very little free time to make friends.

the three months without company had worn you down, to the point where you nearly used your watch to go back to Nueva York multiple times.

and that’s how you came to the realization that miguel meant much more to you than you originally thought.

and it felt like shit. because miguel was stubborn. he would not change his mind on bringing you back. and even after three months you were sure that he was still pissed.

you shouldn’t have mentioned gabriella. it was unfair and below the belt.

but your words were not lies; you didn’t want to be treated like you were fragile. you weren’t.

yet you craved it, being held like you were something to be cared for.

you missed your mother. you missed your old friends. you missed the stupid shenanigans of the spider society. you missed…

you missed miguel.

his glares. his scoffs. his chuckles. his smiles.

hell, you missed the way he and peter b bickered. or when he would yell at lyla. or when he would criticize your notes on complex cellular functions.

if it weren’t for hobie, you were pretty sure you would have risked the trip back to Earth-928.

so you had got up from your bed, still in sweatpants and a tank to cook. productivity was hard, but you could try by at least making dinner.

₊ ⊹

and here you were with your head in a spice cabinet, trying to find three seasonings that it looked like you didn’t have. you promptly pulled back upon hearing a thump from your bedroom, greeted with an uncharacteristically grimacing hobie.

“hey” you said simply, trying to figure out what was going on.

he looked up.

“miguel’s chasing down a kid from 1610.”

“wait, gwen’s kid? miles?”

“that’s the one.”

you paused, watching as the steam began to make the pot cover rattle.

“why?” you asked, turning the stove off and fully facing hobie.

he sighed, dropping his head back to look at the ceiling. “his dad’s the captain. and he wants to save em.”

your hands tightened on the countertop. “and miguel will have none of it.”

of course he wouldn’t. he had spent so long holding the canon together, why should he let it crumble for one kid’s father?

you had never agreed with that logic.

which was exactly why hobie was here.

“so what can we do to help miles?”

hobie smiled, passing you a box covered in various stickers and sharpie drawings. “i need help finding him. i’ve already sent one to gwendy, so i’m gonna get her and touch base. but miles doesn’t have one.”

you opened the box to realize that ‘one’ was a homemade watch, just as decorated as its box.

“miguel’s gonna murder you, hobes.” you whispered as you studied the make of the invention.

“yeah, well, he’s had a while to do it, and he hasn’t yet.” came his reply.

you smiled, closing the lid. “so, what’s the plan?”

₊ ⊹

universe 42 was a hunch, an educated guess that left you swinging through a world with no idea of what ‘spider-man’ was.

all around you, roof tops were burning, cop cars were blaring sirens, and thieves were running ramped. it took all of your self restraint not to pause and help.

but you had a mission, and barely enough time to complete it. you needed to find miles morales, before miguel did. you had no doubt that if the kid wasn’t in his dimension that miguel wouldn’t figure it out, so you had to be quick.

you hadn’t expected to find the kid so quickly, running from this universe’s prowler through the streets.

well, swinging.

the kid was fast and unpredictable. but the prowler matched him easily, keeping up with him and even getting a few hits in.

it took you webbing miles and tugging him against a building for the chase to end.

miles threw his elbow back against you, no doubt assuming that you were one of the spiders sent to find and detain him. but then he glitched and went momentarily limp.

you had just enough time to drag him under a covered rooftop and snap hobie’s watch onto his wrist.

that gave miles pause, and you watched as he slowly figured out that you weren’t going to kill him. for good measure, you pulled off your mask, and that seemed to relax him a bit more.

“we need to get you to a safe house, away from the open. can you swing?” you asked the boy, quickly taking inventory of the various injuries on his skin.

you were going to kill miguel when he came.

miles nodded, his eyes drooping slightly with exhaustion. you grabbed him under the armpits to pull him to the edge, and together you webbed to a warehouse not too far away, just on the outskirts of town.

it was a place that you had established long ago. if you ever needed a place to sit and tuck away, you came here.

hobie didn’t even know. and miguel especially didn’t. at least, you thought so.

miles landed unsteadily on his feet, and you once again circled you arm around the younger boy, leading him to a small cot tucked away behind a wall.

he went willingly, practically collapsing onto it as you left him to get some water and first aid. when you returned he had an arm thrown over his eyes.

“hey hey. i know you’re tired, but we don’t have time to sleep right now.” you murmured regretfully, handing him a water bottle and a protein bar. “i need you hydrated and energized. now, let me see your injuries.”

when he removed his sweatshirt and jacket, you inhaled sharply.

forget killing. you were going to gut miguel alive.

as you cleaned his scratches and iced the bruises, he watched you, searching. he may have been young, but he was attentive.

“you’re miguel’s apprentice.”

your fingers halted against his skin, holding a bandage over a small cut.

“yes.” you said. there was no point in lying. “but i assure you that i don’t want to restrain you, nor beat you into a train.”

peter had told hobie about what had happened, and hobie had relaid it to you before you had disappeared into the portal to this universe.

miles winced, from both the hydrogen peroxide and from the reminder. but he didn’t talk about it more. you took it as a sign to drop it.

“this place is terrible.” he muttered, and you noted the way he shifted the conversation.

“yeah, it is.” you agreed, more so to get him to continue talking. he was tight as a wire, this kid. he needed to release some tension, and these words seemed like a trickle before a flood.

miles looked up, studying the metal beams of the warehouse. his jaw tightened, and his eyebrows knit.

he was starting to cry.

“it’s my fault that it is.” came his quiet voice.

you stopped, watching his face as he refused to look at you.

“and what makes you think that?” you whispered, moving your hand to rest over his in an attempt to calm him.

a single tear rolled down his cheek as he looked at you.

“i’m an anomaly. i…the spider wasn’t mine to take. if i hadn’t been bitten, then this world would have been better.”

your heart thumped hollowly as you registered his words. here was this boy, so young and wonderful and strong, torn apart.

by someone who you cared for.

“are those his words?” you asked, and he turned his face to the side, attempting to recover.

but you reached up and pulled him down, and he bent his head to tuck against your shoulder. you pulled him close, letting him cry, granting this one moment of release.

the eye of the storm.

“you are worthy of this suit, miles. it was not you who took that spider. it was fate that you be bitten by it. you couldn’t control that. you are not an anomaly.”

his arms tightened. you held him fast against you.

no kid deserves this. no child. he was only fifteen for fucks sake.

your spider senses tingled. then they roared.

you pushed miles behind a crate, and he went invisible, already sensing as well.

he was hidden right as you heard a portal open below.

your chest tightened, and you pulled your mask back on. you stepped out to the balcony, looking down to find him already looking at you.

miguel ohara.

“long time no see.” you called, and his eye marks sharpened.

hobie had warned you that he had gotten harsher since you left.

“where is he?”

“the child?” you countered, anger already boiling. “the fifteen year old that you beat the shit out of?”

miguel didn’t relent. “he will break the multi-verse, y/n. i don’t have the time to bicker with you. where. is. he?”

“not here. i searched already, and he’s not in this dimension. maybe you should tune up your go-home machine.”

he was in front of you in an instant, towering over you. it would have been intimidating if you had just met him, but you had seen this man shed a tear at holding a newborn mayday, so you stood your ground.

“i’m not playing games, y/n. tell me now.” he growled, and for an instant you felt actual fear.

before you could even open your mouth to reply, a screw dropped from the ceiling.

miguel turned, and miles’s invisibility shivered as he lost his concentration.

“shit.”

miguel launched forward, but you threw a web and tugged him back, quickly webbing him against the railing until he couldn’t move.

you hadn’t stopped training just because you didn’t have miguel.

he yelled after you as you and miles left the building, swinging faster than you ever had before. you needed to make a portal quickly, but your watch was blocked.

“lyla!” you screamed at the watch, and the ai-woman appeared. “let me through!”

“i can’t do that, star girl.” came her reply, almost sounding mournful.

so it was up to miles to open the portal. but hobie’s watch wasn’t as perfect as the one on her wrist. where the portal popped up was unpredictable, and it didn’t stay open for long.

and because the universe loved you so very much, an orange web stuck to both your bodies and hauled you back.

you both rolled onto a nearby rooftop, but you quickly recovered, dragging miles forward as miguel slammed into the ground behind you.

“you run, i’ll distract him. whatever you do, get through a portal.” you shouted as you turned.

you webbed a long string into each of miguel’s shoulders, then pulled so that you slammed your feet against his chest, throwing your bodies off the building.

miguel was fast, but you were smaller, more agile. you kicked at his back, slicing his webs as he tried to sling them. he tried to restrain you, but in the open air of the city, you easily avoided the webs.

but miguel was still gaining, and you were nearly physically incapable of stalling him.

hobie’s voice cut through the watch. “we got ‘em, star girl. you’re doin great.”

“hobie!” you cried, panting as you kicked against miguel’s chest again. “how are you doing that?”

“spider-byte.” he replied. “y’need help?”

miguel caught your foot and threw it to the side.

“nah, i got this. just like old times.” you said back, ignoring the way your muscles burned with overuse. “just get miles out of here.”

“yes ma’am.”

miguel’s fighting tactics were aggressive, almost always throwing and punching. but now, it seemed like he refused to even touch you.

he wouldn’t scratch or aim to hit. he just moved you away and kept going.

you didn’t know if it was pity or mercy, but either way it was pissing you off.

you were swinging forward when you suddenly glitched. hard.

which didn’t make sense. you were wearing a watch, which should have prevented it.

miguel caught you with a web when you fell, and you lifted your wrist to check it.

only to see a blaring ‘CANON EVENT DISRUPTED’ warning on it.

“lyla, explain.” you heard miguel call from above you. you still dangled from his web, and you utilized that to catch your breath.

“there was a canon event in y/n’s universe, but it snuck up on us. the algorithm has never seen it before.” said lyla’s hologram.

miguel looked down at you, cocking his head to the side in question.

you shook your head: you had no idea.

he pulled you up to a roof, where you stood up on unsteady legs. he rested his hands on your upper arms, letting you lean your weight on him for support.

your spider senses were going haywire, and it felt like your head was buzzing. your knees buckled, and miguel sank with you.

you realized he had pulled off your mask when the cool wind hit your face, and opening your eyes, you saw that he had removed his as well.

he looked exhausted. even more than the last time you saw him. how this man was even on his feet was astonishing.

“i’m gonna kill you.” you said as you set your forehead against his shoulder. he chucked, and you punched his chest.

“m’not joking. you traumatized that kid. he was shaking when i got to em.” you muttered, and for a moment you felt like you could fall asleep, warm against miguel’s shoulder.

but then your spider senses screamed, and you jumped up with a rush of adrenaline.

“hey guys, hate to mess up this reunion, but y/n’s universe is collapsing. fast.” lyla spoke up.

you sat up quick, stumbling to your feet. miguel reached to steady you, but you were already pulling from him.

“lyla, open a portal.” you asked, and she did immediately, understanding the urgency of the situation. but a hand closes around your wrist.

and there’s miguel, keeping you from rushing into danger.

your conversation three months ago flashed through your head.

you can’t lock me in a tower and call it love.

his grip loosened as he met your eyes.

“there’s a high chance that i can’t protect you in there, y/n.” he said, voice low.

“does that mean you’re coming with me?” you asked, daring to even hope.

he exhaled, looking to the side. you turned away, your stomach sinking as you remembered who exactly you were talking to.

you jumped through the portal.

₊ ⊹

you had seen the hologram of what the world miguel had been in looked like when it disintegrated, collapsing in on itself. you figured that you’d be prepared when you were faced with your own.

you were so very wrong.

the instant you exited the portal, there was screaming.

hundreds of people flooding the street, trying to escape the black void approaching them. children crying for their parents, families huddling together in a last goodbye, others standing still and letting themselves be taken away.

the plan formed in your head as you zipped through the streets: grab as many as you could and put them in hq. there had to be a way that you could save some of them.

but then your web hit a building, and the void traveled down it with a speed that made you stop. the black mass nearly reached you when a blade cut the string, and you were pulled into a hard chest in midair.

“miguel, let me go!” you screamed, pounding a fist against his chest in an attempt to get free.

“it’s too far gone! there’s no way to save them!” he called back, finding a rooftop that was still safe.

“no!” you screamed again, shoving him away. “i have to try, miguel! i have to! this is my home! i know these people!”

the blackness was seeping towards you two, approaching with an ominous humming that made your hair stand up.

“i can’t let you die.” he whispered as he pulled you against him again, trying to force your through the portal.

“let me! let me die with them! it’s what i deserve!” you were crying, voice so loud and desperate that your throat aches. “let me die miguel.”

he looked down at you and webbed you close, tucking your chin against his shoulder.

“i’m sorry.”

and then there was nothing but the sound of universes rushing around you.

₊ ⊹

you were launched through the portal, rolling across the floor to land face down. your body ached, wanting to give in to sleep. but your mind was racing.

“what was the canon event?” you demanded, getting on your hands and knees in an attempt to rise.

miguel looked at you, a terrible sense of deja-vu flooding his mind as he watched you break down.

lyla scrolled through her charts. “y/n, i don’t think you’re in the right mental state to-“

“i don’t give a fuck what mental state im in right now, i need to know.” you yelled, pounding a fist against the ground as your gut rolled.

miguel rested a hand against your back. “mi estrella, you need to calm down. por favor-“

you slapped his hand away, flinching at the contact. “no. you don’t get to call me that. not now, not ever.” you seethed, turning once more to lyla. “please, i need to know. tell me.”

your voice trembled as emotion stopped up your throat, and tears threatened to spill. your chest was heaving as your body tried to get enough oxygen to fuel the rapid pace of your heart beat.

lyla bit her lip and looked at the screen. “it’s a unique event, and the algorithm didn’t know what number to give it. so…it’s called event 0-star girl.”

you waited as she read the screen, watching her projected expression slowly drop.

“event 0-star girl description. spider woman of universe-328 meets universes doc oc. fight ensues. and…”

she paused, re-reading the page, searching for anything but the words that appeared to her.

“no, no, no…” she whispers, frantic.

“lyla.” you beg, tone desperate as your shoulders start to shake and tears trickled down your face.

she looks at you, with an expression so devastated that your heart drops down to your stomach.

“you…

you die.”

masterlists. | next

one more to go. are you ready?

btw if it seems like i rushed through the whole universe-has-collapsed thing, i did. next chapter will address it. star girl hasn’t fully let it hit her.

edit: guys i kinda…i kinda hate this? idk, what do you all think. i feel like it’s not we’ll written.

taglist:

@brittany69 @ladyfairenvale @teamwolverine @kinkybandages @lunamhm565i @dhadiirah @pearlssdiary @zeyzeys-stuff @alexisabirdie @ifuckyourmom @hagdgishr @migueloharaslxt @ladynecromancer

[halfmoth-halfman]

la douleur exquise

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Spider!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: canon-typical violence, fluff, whump, slight body horror

It isn’t easy being one of Miguel’s best agents. He’s a hard man to impress and even harder to get close to, but somehow you’ve managed to do both.

You take pride in your friendship with Miguel; it’s not something easily accomplished and more often, a feat people are too afraid to try for. You get it, he can be intimidating, but you’ve gotten a glimpse beneath that rough exterior. He isn’t some terrifying monster waiting to attack at any given moment.

If he was a monster, he wouldn’t take time out of his day to make sure you eat three meals a day.

He wouldn’t ask for your advice on handling anomalies, much less listen as intently as he does.

He wouldn’t let you literally hang around his office and annoy him to no end during your downtime.

You know Miguel’s a good man. Is he a little too stern with the others? Yes. Does he take his job too seriously sometimes? Also yes. But you couldn’t imagine you’d be any other way if you were in his position.

He’s a good boss and a good friend—quite possibly your best friend—someone you trust with your life, and you’re about ninety-eight percent sure he feels the same about you. At least, you hope so. It’s that, or you’ve suddenly become really bad at reading people.

“Widow, come in.”

Speak of the Devil.

“If it isn’t my favorite boss,” you smile, looking down at your watch just in time to see Miguel roll his eyes.

“I’m your only boss.”

“Still my favorite,” you laugh. “What’s up?”

“I need you to meet up with Jess. Lyla—”

“Oh, wait, let me guess! Lyla detected another anomaly, and you need your best spider-person to get the job?”

Miguel doesn’t even look at you, too busy with whatever’s on his monitors, as he lazily shrugs, “Yes, actually—”

“Wait, really?”

“—But he’s stuck on Earth-13122, so you’ll have to do.”

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” you sigh, smile still playing at your lips. You catch the quirk of his lips, the tight swallow as he fights down a laugh.

It’s a shame; he has such a nice smile.

“Jess will fill you in on the details,” Miguel continues, back to business as usual.

“No problem, boss.“ Giving a mock salute, Miguel disappears, and you’re left gazing longingly after his visage. A small sigh escapes you, heart aching at his absence.

So, maybe Miguel isn’t just your best friend. Perhaps you’d like him to be something more, but you’ve been holding on to that hope for years with no indication that his feelings for you run deeper than platonic. It hurts having to deal with that fond pinch of your heart every time you see him, but you’ve resigned to dealing with it.

“You done pining yet, or do you need another minute?”

You damn near jump out of your skin at Jess’s voice, whirling around to come face-to-face with her.

“Oh hey, Jess! I didn’t see you there.” You try to laugh it off, looking everywhere but the woman smirking at you.

“Sure,” she teases. “You were too busy making eyes at—“

“Miguel said something about an anomaly?” you cut her off quickly. She gives you one last look that says you’ll definitely be talking about this later before shifting into business mode.

“We got a report about an unusually strong anomaly,” Jess explains, tapping away on her watch. “Due to the conditions of the universe he’s stuck in, Miguel thought you’d be the best for the job.”

A swirl of inter-dimensional orange mixes with the lush tropics of your universe’s floating islands behind her.

“He…did?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“His exact words were, and I quote, There’s no one better suited for the job. He asked me to come along to help you.”

“No, he didn’t,” you scoff. It isn’t unusual for you to be one of the first ones called to deal with anomalies, but it’s certainly not normal for you to take point.

“You can ask Lyla,” Jess shrugs as the portal blinks opens.

“Why? What’s up with this universe that I’m needed, specifically?”

Jess’s mouth quirks into a knowing grin, waving you over with one foot in the portal.

“You’ll see.”

“I thought you said it was one anomaly!” you scream at Jess, tucking and rolling down another massive sand dune to dodge an incoming swing from the amalgamation of muscles, tendons, and cybernetics that make up the anomalous Lizard.

“There was!” Jess shouts back, kicking off the undead Electro, who looks a little too much like an oversized Frankenstein’s Monster for you to take him seriously.

“Obviously not!” you huff. The unforgiving sun bears down on the four of you, the golden light of this universe’s eternal sunset reflecting off the molten sand. The grains scratch at your suit, visible heat waves rolling over the endless desert.

You duck from another swing of The Cyber-Lizard’s tail, sliding across the sand as he gives chase. You can see the heated sand pulling the moisture from his skin every time he touches it, the coarse epidermis cracking and splitting open.

Miguel was right about one thing, you think. The burning sunset colors of your suit shift with the sands, your skin absorbing every heatwave that rolls by to energize you. There really was no one better suited for the job.

The next time Cyper-Lizard leaps for you, you turn and run, trying to get closer to Jess and the Zombie-Electro. She holds her own well enough—you’d expect nothing less—despite having to abandon her bike to the difficult terrain of this universe.

“Jess, get down!” you shout, sliding down a sand dune toward her. She crouches down, and you launch yourself off the dune, soaring over her.

Zombie-Electro takes the opportunity to attack, one arm extending with a horrendous groan. The jagged bolts of electricity keeping him hovering in the air spark and stretch up his stitched-together body, preparing to launch from his hand.

You beat him to the punch, shooting a web that blocks his hand as you collide with him mid-air. He groans and swats at you, but you’re too quick, attaching to webbing on his hand and crawling around the length of his body.

You’re a chaotic blur of sticky silk, oranges, and reds, webs shooting from every direction as you wrap Zombie-Electro into a massive cocoon, trailing webs around him and shooting off the sticky fibers to tether him to the sandy ground.

Using his head as a springboard, you launch off of him, landing gracefully next to Jess.

“Not bad,” she laughs, staring up at your makeshift monument to watch your webs solidify.

“All in a day’s—“

“Move!”

The blunt force hits you first, the searing pain of heated metal sinking in a second later as Cyber-Lizard’s tail slams into your torso and launches you into the air.

You hear Jess shouting, and your watch beeps. The sand sparkles, a flash of orange across the ocean of molten gold beneath you, and something pulls you out of the air.

You land at the base of your Zombie-Electro tower, or rather Miguel lands with you held firmly in his arms.

“Oh hey, boss,” you say airily. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Though you can’t see his face, he groans, and you know he’s rolling his eyes. Miguel sets you on your feet, waiting an extra second to make sure you can stand on your own.

Pain blossoms across your torso, but your suit works fast to absorb the heat from Cyber-Lizard’s tail and use it to relax your muscles.

“I’m good, promise,” you wheeze, leaning against one of your web pillars. “Go help Jess.”

“Stay here,” Miguel commands before taking off.

“Yeah, no problem,” you nod, waiting until he’s joined the fight to slide to the ground and collapse against your webbing. “I’ll just hang here with my new friend.”

Zombie-Electro groans, a slight shock of electricity traveling down your webs to zap your shoulder.

Your peace doesn’t last long, a massive roar—more the sound of metal screeching against shredded vocal cords—echoing across the dunes. You barely have time to react, getting to your feet—ribs screaming at you in protest—just as Miguel and Jess come flying toward you.

Jess recovers easily, bracing herself and sliding across the sand to stop on your left, while Miguel collides with the harsh structure of your webs on your right.

“Welcome back,” you laugh, holding a hand out to Miguel. He takes it with a huff, using your body as an anchor to jump to his feet. “Think we should call for back—“

“No,” Miguel snaps, and you exchange a look with Jess.

“Miguel—“ You step forward, reaching out to him, but pain shoots up your ribs, knees buckling. They’re quick to catch you, Miguel wrapping an arm around you to keep you upright, and Jess keeping your head from hitting the web-scaffolding.

“We should—“

The familiar shiver crawls up your spine, settling into your brain, the chittering hiss echoing in your mind.

You react a split second before Jess can, the surge of adrenaline giving you the added strength to shove Jess and Miguel away from you as Cyber-Lizard’s claws tear into your back.

You react on pure instinct and survival.

Both hands braced against your web scaffolding, your suit expels all its collected heat in a massive blast. Cyber-Lizard roars as the heat hits the alloy of his cybernetics, the metal already beginning to melt.

He stumbles, but the base of your webs liquify under your touch, and you use the tacky silk to pull him into you just as the entire scaffolding collapses.

Everything feels…heavy.

Distant.

A constant ebb and flow of consciousness like you’re trapped underwater, waves crashing over you whenever you break the surface.

You’re awake, but you aren’t; still present in your body, aware of your surroundings, but unable to move or react.

You hear people talking around you, sometimes quietly, sometimes urgent. There’s beeping and whirring and occasionally the phantom pain of something pinching into your arm.

It all settles into quiet, and you’re left with your scattered thoughts and a gentle pressure in the palm of your right hand.

Thirst is the first thing to hit you when you wake up.

Your throat’s too dry to make noise, but your eyes peel open and instantly move to take note of your surroundings.

You’re back at HQ, lying in the infirmary without your mask.

Guess the anomalies were taken care of.

You feel the dull ache across your body, and you’re sure you have a collection of bruises and bumps to take care of. You can already feel the heat of your suit encasing your skin and working to help you heal. You wiggle your toes, roll your shoulders, then flex your hands. Everything’s working fine, except…

You flex your right hand again, feeling that same solid pressure in your palm. You squeeze, putting as much strength as you can muster into it.

What is—

“Stop it.”

Your head snaps to the right, ignoring the pain that shoots down your neck. Miguel sits in a chair beside your bed, eyes shut with one arm crossed over his chest and the other…

You turn your hand, fingers lacing through his as you squeeze again, far more gently this time.

He opens his eyes, peering down at you with his best stern look. It’s hard to take him seriously when he looks so tired, with deep bags under his bloodshot and swollen eyes, and stress lines more prominent.

“You look like shit.” You rasp out a laugh. Miguel raises an unamused brow, giving you a blatant once over as if to say have you seen yourself. You roll your eyes, carefully turning your head back to look at the ceiling.

“Did you catch—”

“Yes.”

“Is Jess oka—”

“Yes.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Furious.”

You nod, eyes sliding shut as you wait for the inevitable lecture. You wait a few seconds, then ten, then thirty. When Miguel doesn’t speak after a minute, you chance another glance at him to find him staring down at your linked hands with a look of blatant worry on his face.

“I’m okay,” you say softly, thumb running hesitantly across the back of his hand.

This is uncharted territory for you. Of course, he’s been worried about you before, but nothing more than asking if you were hurt after a mission.

He says it so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

“You flat-lined.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing you can think to say. Miguel scoffs out a laugh, turning to look at you with a shocked expression.

“You’re apologizing? For almost dying?” he asks in pure disbelief. You shrug, eyes focused on the ceiling. He shakes his head, muttering something to himself that you don’t catch.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” you mumble. Miguel sighs, hand sliding out of your grip—you already miss the warmth—as he leans back from you. A hurricane of emotions swirls inside you: shame, embarrassment, anger, heartache.

You could accept him being mad, but the least he could do was thank you for saving his life.

Your bed dips, and suddenly Miguel is hovering over you, large hands cradling your face and claws gently scratching against your temples.

Your mind goes blank, unable to look away from the intensity of his earthy brown gaze.

“You’re supposed to say, I’ll be more careful next time, Miguel,” he says, stern and low.

“I’ll be more careful next time, Miguel,” you repeat, blinking up at him.

He leans closer, voice soft, “I won’t put myself in harm’s way again, Miguel.”

“I won’t put myself in harm’s way again, Miguel.”

He leans closer again, inches away from your face.

“I promise to never leave you, Miguel.”

Your breath hitches, and you bring your hands up to lightly caress his. You know what he's gone through, the things that he's lost, the distance he's put between himself and any sort of real connection. It had been one of your main reasons for keeping your feelings to yourself, content to treasure your friendship.

You never imagined that he pictured you as anything more.

“Miguel—” he stills at the sound of your voice, “—I promise to never leave you.”

You barely get the words out before his mouth is on yours, years' worth of swallowed feelings and tension pouring out.

If this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

Miguel pulls away first, pressing his forehead to yours with a long exhale. “You know you’re not going on any missions for a while, right?”

“I could use a vacation,” you laugh, leaning up for another peck on his lips. “Spend some time with my favorite boss.”

He shakes his head, looking down at you with nothing but unfiltered affection. He kisses you again, quick and chaste, before leaning up to kiss your head, lips murmuring against your skin, “Get some rest.”

You nod, and he pulls away, standing from the bed. You expect him to leave, to head back to his office, but instead, he takes the seat next to the bed and leans back.

He works from his watch while you nod in and out of sleep. Exhaustion finally catches up with you, and the last thing you see is Lyla appearing on his shoulder with a wide, teasing grin, laughing, “About time.”

some spider facts!

✧ reader is based on the noble false widow spider, more specifically, the genus Steatoda Nobilis!

“Oh hey, Jess! I didn’t see you there.” You try to laugh it off, looking everywhere but the woman smirking at you.

✧ false widow spiders are known to have poor eyesight!

A swirl of inter-dimensional orange mixes with the lush tropics of your universe’s floating islands behind her.

✧ false widows were originally found in warm, tropic areas before spreading across the united kingdom and the us! they are also known to be ambush hunters, often going after flying prey from high up!

Miguel was right about one thing, you think. The burning sunset colors of your suit shift with the sands, your skin absorbing every heatwave that rolls by to energize you. There really was no one better suited for the job.

✧ false widows are often a combination of burnt red and orange colors, and can survive and thrive in extremely dry and hot areas without water!

You’re a chaotic blur of sticky silk, oranges, and reds, webs shooting from every direction as you wrap Zombie-Electro into a massive cocoon, trailing webs around him and shooting off the sticky fibers to tether him to the sandy ground.

✧ false widows often use the "attack wrap" against prey where their silk is quickly wrapped tightly around their victim

“Not bad,” she laughs, staring up at your makeshift monument to watch your webs solidify. *

✧ false widow cobwebs are similar to sticky fibers, while their scaffold silk is exceptionally strong! i embellished here a little to make reader's webs able to transfer between the two as they need it!

[brighterdaysarebeforeus]

Soooooooo...basically a rewrite of Hobie's entire part in the movie? Except more awkward teenager and much, much more rambling. This does feel a bit all over the place so...enjoy, if you wanna.

Meeting Gwen for the first time wasn’t anything particularly memorable or anything like that, Hobie didn’t think. It was a simple thing, really; LYLA had found an anomaly, Miguel had reluctantly put Hobie on the case, Hobie had gone out of his way to ramble on about how he wasn’t a cog in Miguel’s system (man looked like he wanted to punt Hobie out of the office, and that just added more pleasure to his insubordination), and then Jess had sort of insisted that Gwen tag along to learn how to inter-dimensional travel and also how to deal with the anomalies as they occurred. Her exact words, if he remembered right, were “she needs to learn how to deal with these things in a team setting, and also maybe get some more friends her own age” or something similar that Gwen had immediately protested against.

He’d protested as well, as if it would change anything, as if these two would take him any serious. Hobie told them that he didn’t believe in teams, or in teamwork, and Jess put her hand on his shoulder, looked him in the eye, and told him very sternly to get over himself. Miguel was in the back, rubbing his hand over his face with one hand and waving the other at them in a motion that screamed ‘just go’. The mission itself was fine, easy job for a sole Spider let alone two Spider-People, but Gwen had been pricklier than he’d been expecting. He thought she was spunky, but particularly withdrawn for a Spider, and she’d snapped at him several times before the mission had ended. Afterwards, they’d gone their separate ways and he didn’t think too much about her, focusing on being the one and only Spider-Man (Spider-Punk, the newspaper headlines screamed, and he’d hated the name with a passion when he was younger, but found the title had grown on him over the years) in Camden.

Then they got paired together again. And again. And again. There’d been a genuine moment of concern that Miguel and Jess were punishing him for something, because they kept sticking him together with this small wisp of a child who looked like she wanted to bite his head off any time he asked her anything remotely personal, whether it be about her family or even her favorite kind of music. Hobie couldn’t even begin to figure her out, but decided that if he kept pushing, especially if they kept getting put on missions together, she’d have to crack eventually, right?

(It was worse when he realized she was actually older than him, even if it was only by three months. She held it over him for days, blocking his every question and prompt with “I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m older than you are.” Like a kid. Like a little kid, and how in the hell was she older than he was? It was unjust, it was.)

The sad part was, Hobie wasn’t even sure when things changed, with Gwen. Rather, he wasn’t quite sure why they had changed, though far be it from him to criticize someone’s changing of their mind. They’d gone on a mission, catching an inter-dimensional Doc Ock in some bizarre backwards universe made up of graffiti art that had her particularly subdued and snappish with him; she’d just given a thirty second rant that had cut Hobie deeper than he’d wanted to admit and they were swinging around searching for the Doc in a strained silence that had lasted until they’d found the fucker; at some point in the fight, the Doc had her pinned and Hobie’d yelled for her to cover her ears, and used his guitar to blast the scientist off of her at the last second, using his regular webs to yank her from where she’d been embedded in the ground; they’d, somehow, ended up victorious back at HQ and handed the Doc to Margo to send back to the proper dimension, went to Miguel and Jess to report their success. Hobie set his watch to his home dimension, the portal had opened up, and then —

“Hey, can I…” He’d half-turned to Gwen, eyes wide on his mask to showcase his paying attention as Gwen held her left arm tightly in her right hand, pointedly not looking at him and using the longer left side of her hair to cover her face. She’d taken off her mask, though Hobie had never really felt comfortable enough in the Spider Society to do so very often, and he could see the uncertainty in her face as she finally spit out, “can I…crash with you? For a bit?”

“Like, in my dimension?” Hobie’d asked, and she rolled her eyes so hard that her head followed the motion automatically. Something warm and pleased grew in his chest as she pushed past him roughly, muttering something sarcastic under her breath, and he didn’t even notice Jess watching them from behind as he nudged her shoulder playfully while they walked through the portal together.

Gwen started hanging around more after that, even when they had to keep moving from abandoned house to abandoned house in order to keep a roof over their head for the night. She didn’t stay over every night, but it was often enough to leave some of her shit laying around for him to trip over. He discovered she like playing drums and incorporated her into his band, more or less the only permanent member aside from him despite the inter-dimensional shenanigans. ‘Gwen’ became ‘Gwennifer’ (she threw her drumstick at him) which then became ‘Guinevere’ (he’d barely dodged the swing she leveled at him for that) became ‘Gwendolyn’ (she’d webbed his mouth shut) became ‘Gwendy’ (she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but he’d caught the pleased look on her face for that one). Over time, she started opening up about her dad, her indefinitely on-hold Spider-Woman work in her home ‘verse, her Peter…

Miles.

The name lit up something at the back of his head, the first time she’d mentioned it, and Hobie couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. It wasn’t until she mentioned something about a particle collider that it came rushing to Hobie; he was Miguel’s “original anomaly”, the one who had apparently weakened the multiverse apart enough for the Spider Society to be kept busy damn near constantly. Hobie could respect a Spider who could throw the multiverse into chaos like that, even if was accidental and wasn’t even his fault to begin with. He tried prompting her, through trial and error, into talking about Miles damn near constantly; it worked better than he’d hoped, and for a hot minute all she would talk about was Miles. What he looked like, what he’d say, the way he’d stuck his hand to her hair when he’d first gotten his powers and she’d had to cut it off on the sides (“and you kept the hairstyle?” “Fuck off, Hobart — ” “Ew, no thanks mate, ‘o the fuck is Hobart — ”). She talked about him so much that Hobie felt like he knew the damn kid all on his own without ever having met him.

And then Gwen got herself assigned to a mission in his universe. Not only that, but she was allowing herself to miss her friend enough to stop off to visit when she went, though she had a brief moment of panic before she’d left and she’d called him for ‘moral support’ or whatever it was she’d hissed at him when she called. Hobie felt proud of her for that, even though he couldn’t find his chucks the day she left and he nearly brained himself tripping over her damn jumper when he headed to the bathroom.

It was her first mission on her own, officially, and Hobie was pulling out damn near every trick in the book to keep him from worrying. He was sitting at her drum set where they had it set up in a practice warehouse, listlessly banging on the cymbals when his watch went off a second time. Heart jumping up into his throat, Hobie answered the call and whipped his way into Mumbatten, which was exactly where Gwen was not supposed to be at this current moment. He’d barely even taken the time to suit up, nearly forgot to grab his damn guitar, and didn’t even pause to take in the situation before strumming the thing and bursting through what looked like a barrier. He’d heard Gwen and Pavitr shout, but he’d landed with his back to them and then he’d gotten rushed by Pav the second he caught his breath.

Then he’d turned fully, pushed Pav off of him, and nearly swallowed his tongue when he caught a good, solid look of him, dressed in his black suit with pops of red; it had to be Miles, the Spider-Man-Who-Wasn’t-Supposed-To-Exist-In-Earth-1610-Specifically, which for some reason both was a surprise and yet was completely expected.

“This the kid from 1610?” He asked first, like he wasn’t fully aware of who Miles was to begin with. Gwen’s head rolled, a sure sign she was rolling her eyes, and he’d glanced her way briefly before looking back at Miles, who was complaining to Gwen. He’d gotten close enough when Pav thanked him for destroying the barrier in time to hear him (“I weakened it!”) and shot a quick demonstration of “use your whole palm, mate, not just your fingertips”, complete with hand visuals. Miles looked, low-key through his mask, like he wanted to strangle him. Gwen looked away, but Hobie could tell her shoulders were shaking from held-back laughter.

He wanted to crawl into a small hole for a minute. For a hot second, Hobie debated the pros and cons of potentially just jumping back through the portal and going home, there were three Spiders to deal with the Dalmatian over there, he wasn’t really needed for this, was he? He was distracted for all of two seconds before remembering there was supposed to be a fight going on, and he was supposed to be helping, and that Miles was standing in front of him.

So, naturally, once he was back online and fully focused, he opened his mouth and immediately put his foot in it.

“What’s up with his suit, is he bleeding from the armpits?”

“Wha-Who even is this guy?” Gwen introduced them quickly, Hobie talking even faster as they prepared to fight the Dalmatian-looking dude in front of them, and though Miles looked slightly lost (“I thought you hated labels?”), Hobie had hope that they’d be able to get along swell.

Then he stuck his foot in it again.

“Gwendy, you left your jumper ‘round my place.”

“What’s a jumper?”

“It’s a sweater!”

“How many sweaters do you own?”

And, because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut to save his own damn life even as Gwen clearly tried to salvage that mess, Hobie continued.

“And your toothbrush.” He kind of wanted to die. What was the deal with this spotty dude? Hobie wondered if the dude would shoot him into another dimension if he asked him nicely enough. He hated asking nice though, and it was pretty obvious this guy happened to be the villain of the week (as it were), so his best bet was staying here. Shame, that. He was really fucking things up right about now, and he just knew Gwen was gonna give him shit for it later too.

Things happened…weirdly fast after that. They fought the Dalmatian, they lost the Dalmatian, Mumbatten’s AlcheMax began crumbling and they had to save the people. Normal Spider stuff, and Hobie was glad for the distraction — well, not glad glad, he didn’t want Mumbatten to fall apart and Pav was far too little a Spider to be dealing with this kind of cosmic mess — just because Miles took off with Pavitr and left him and Gwen to hold the building up. Even better, Gwen was all the way over there, so she couldn’t even give him shit for how he’d been acting the fool in front of Miles.

God, he just hoped it wasn’t noticeable. To Miles, at least.

Then after the building collapsing was the bridge falling apart, and Miles diving to save the Inspector. Hobie had skid to a stop next to Gwen, the both of them staring down as Pav tried to save the bus and his girl, and Miles tried to save the Inspector. Gwen’s eyes were wide, taking up the entirety of her face as she held onto the railing in a death grip with one hand, the other still outstretched; she’d grabbed Miles then, right before Hobie had gotten there, and for a moment he wasn’t sure why she’d done it.

“He’ll be aces, yea?” Hobie said to her quietly, eyes still on the bridge.

“It’s a canon event. He’s interfering with it.” Gwen said somberly, and Hobie scoffed with a roll of his eyes — she sounded just like Miguel, there, for a hot moment, and he wondered if he should begin extracting them both before the man’s ideals managed to get in any deeper — but Gwen didn’t seem to notice him. When the bridge finished collapsing, she didn’t hesitate to jump over the rail, yelling for Miles as she did so. Hobie followed after her, beelining his way to Pav first to help him with the bus. Once it was on solid ground, relatively speaking, the passengers disembarking and Pavitr trying to smooth things over with his girl, Hobie turned on time to see Gwen lift a giant piece of rubble to reveal —

Miles. Holding a small child, with the Inspector right behind him. Both were fine, probably filled with adrenaline but relatively unharmed, and Pav’s girl was rushing past them all to embrace her father. Hobie followed her, not to the Inspector, but to Miles; Miles, who had been facing Gwen, who hadn’t heard him approach and therefore wasn’t anticipating it when Hobie grabbed his shoulders from behind and shook him eagerly.

“Miles, my guy!” He said cheerfully, and even the city cheered for them (and wasn’t that just novel, that’s never happened to Hobie before), and then —

There was a hole, big and black and looking similar to the spots on the Spot, sucking in pieces of Mumbatten. There was Jess, and her team of Spiders trying to keep it contained (points to Spider Society!) and her just blatantly blowing off Miles in a way that made Hobie’s hackles rise and ordering them all back to HQ to talk to Miguel (negative points for their diligent leaders!). Panic spiked at that, briefly, for Hobie; he leaned on Miles and tried to get him out of it, get them both out of it, but Miles shrugged him off in order to practically run into the belly of the beast with his fist in the air like he’d won something. Hobie dropped his face into his palm, but followed along anyway. Just to see what was going to happen.

Miles looked slightly awed when he took off his mask, which was kind of an ego boost, if Hobie was being honest; his whispered comment was met with one of his own comebacks (“how are you even cooler under the mask?” “I was this cool the whole time.”) that made Gwen press her lips together as she repressed her snort of laughter. Hobie glowered at her slightly, and she rolled her eyes in the opposite direction. Even Jess looked somewhat amused, and Hobie grunted softly at both of them.

He tried, honest to god, he tried so hard to keep Miles from meeting Miguel. Once he’d realized that Gwen had met with Miles and yet told him nothing about the Spider Society, told him nothing about how he fit into all of this as the supposed “original anomaly” (he had ThoughtsTM about Miguel’s thought process, is all, ThoughtsTM that he didn’t necessarily have time to delve into at this specific moment) — he couldn’t let him walk in blind. Miles didn’t deserve the way Miguel was gonna treat him on a normal day, short-tempered and blunt as the man was, let alone a day where a mission was fucked up bad enough that the BBG got away and another dimension was in peril of nonexistence. There was just no time to prepare him, not right at this moment, and he’d completely messed up his entrance to begin with so it wasn’t even like Miles would wanna even listen to anything Hobie had to say, let alone believe it, so…Hobie stalled.

Easily reaching out and grabbing anything potentially useful, Hobie distracted Miles as best he could. Bet this don’t even do anything. Why’d you wanna join up anyway? (The scoff Miles gave him when Hobie told him to make his own watch was not cute, Hobie did not find it endearing at all, and he was shit at lying to himself) What’s your set up — loving parents? (He was thankful Gwen was walking ahead of them for that one and not paying them any attention; the way he’d leaned on that unused portal more or less broadcasted his interest, especially combined with the way he’d fallen through it. He was also infinitely grateful Miles was too preoccupied to notice that blatant display). Hell, he even planted himself in front of the damn kid, sitting in the chair and stretching his legs out onto the table top so that Miles wouldn’t advance anymore, and felt his heart flutter in his chest when Miles simply pushed past him without even stopping.

Then it stopped when Miguel showed up, acting more Miguel-ish than usual. Miles greeted him brightly, holding up the empanada he’d gotten from the cafeteria, but Miguel was having none of it at the moment. Hobie glared at him out of the corner of his eye when he threw the empanada, then dipped out of sight in order to steal more tech that he needed; he lost track of what was happening all the way up to the loud crashing noise, and he’d popped his head back over to see Miguel yelling at both Gwen and Miles. Sniffing irritably, Hobie opened his mouth and was cut off immediately by Peter Parker from Earth 616 making his appearance. Miles was happy to see him, Hobie could hear it in his voice, and against his better judgement he went back to what he was doing.

When Miguel trapped Miles, way before literally trapping him in a cage, Hobie made his way to Miles’ side while keeping a small distance from him. He kept his eyes on him, watching how he ranted against Miguel’s idea of ‘keeping to the canon’, how he fought against the idea of letting one person die just to save others, how he argued that as Spider-Man they should be able to do both. Watched how he turned to his original allies, Peter 616 and Gwen and even Peni, and how they all couldn’t look him in the eye for longer than a few seconds. Encouraged him when it seemed like he needed it (“Here we go.” “Hobie, you’re not helping.” “Good.”). Miles realized it was a trap a second too late, and once Miguel had him caged, chaos began to descend upon them all. His friends were yelling at Miguel, who was yelling back, and Miles was panicking. He couldn’t break himself out, and Hobie’d had enough.

“Oi, Peter Pan.” Hobie hissed at him, and Miles stared at him with wide eyes. He didn’t touch the digital net, all too aware of the fact that it would draw attention from the others, but he spread his hands out just in front of it. Hobie repeated his advice from earlier, complete with visual demonstration, without speaking out loud. “Use your palms.” Miles seemed to take a breath at that, his shoulders lowering from around his ears as he pressed his hands fully against the barrier, palms and all. Since Hobie was the only one paying attention, he knew to brace himself when electricity started crackling up and down Miles’ arms; when the barrier exploded, he was the only one who wasn’t knocked over aside from Miles, who seemed to freeze for a sec when he realized he was free. He chuckled, smiling proudly when Miles’ wide brown eyes met his again, without the barrier this time.

Then Miles turned heel and booked it down the corridor, where the door was wide open and awaiting his exit. Hobie sort of regretted that breaking the door so it would stay open meant that the other Spiders also had easy access to go after Miles, but they were still trying to pick themselves up off the floor and that gave Miles a solid four second head start. It was the best Hobie could do for him, given the situation, along with one last thing.

Miguel yelled for everyone to go after Miles, and they complied. Hobie activated his watch, creating a portal to his home ‘verse. Sneering at all the Spiders rushing past him, Hobie shouted “for the record, I quit!” and threw his watch off once he was safely in the portal.

He crash landed towards the edge of the bed in the room, close enough to where he was aiming originally. Sighing heavily, Hobie sprawled out on the bed and listened to the drones flying overhead, watched as their lights illuminated the room he was staying in currently. Gwen’s jumper was still on the floor where she’d left it, her shoes dropped carelessly two feet beside it. (Seriously, her shoes were right there, did she really have to take his?) With a soft sigh and a quiet groan, he pulled himself back up, stretched, and started pulling shit out of his pockets. He’d actually grabbed a lot more things than he’d needed, courtesy of trying to hold the door for Miles, and he tossed aside the things he didn’t need in order to get started. Several other watches dropped out of his pocket as well, the ones he’d made before staying on him for safekeeping — one for him, one for Pav, one for Gwen.

Just because Miles didn’t want to make his own watch didn’t mean Hobie couldn’t make one for him.