#LATE I KNOW

[runa-falls]

*raise hand violently* PLEASE CAN I ASK ABOUT sub!miguel headcanons?!?!?!?!?!

What makes him whine, how pretty does his whimpers sound like?!?!?!

How gorgeous does he look when his eyes get all shiny and wet with tears because you won't let him come yet.

sub!miguel headcanons

basic summary: miguel is the whiniest, most pushy malewife and you are his protector, comforter, and safe space :3

a/n: OK BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT? (im so sorry lmfaooo) also does it count as headcanons if i have random scenes in between them?? wtvr *shoves fic in ur arms and sprints away*

content: suggestive + fluffy

masterlist

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bed habits (I'M TALKING AB SLEEPING YOU DIRTY BASTARD!) -- miguel is a sleepy, cuddly boy

he never has trouble falling asleep when you're around (except for when he - adorably - forces himself to stay awake so he can spend time with you)

this man is 6'7" but he still tries to curl up on your lap when you're lounging on the couch just so you can play with his hair as he dozes off

miguel owns a king sized bed, big enough to fit five people comfortably, yet he's adamant to take up all your space

it gets hot (i mean, he's hot -- literally, like his internal temp is higher than the average human) but even when you try to shove him away, he only pulls you closer to him

if you do, somehow, get away from him, he wakes up immediately with a sleepy groan, blindly reaching across the mattress for you:

you try to dodge his hands, laying precariously at the edge of the bed, hoping he would give up and go back to sleep. unfortunately, it only makes him whine like a spoiled child, "baby, closer. need you...come here" god -- he has such a cute sleepy voice...

but you don't let it sway you. you're already laying on top of the comforter, desperately trying to cool off and get back to sleep.

"it's too hot, miguel"

"but...i can't sleep without you" you can hear the pout in his voice

"just hold a pillow and pretend its me"

he sighs -- actually sighs like the dramatic man he is, "but it's not the same!"

you don't respond, refusing to continue this 3 am argument that you'll never win, and pretend to fall back asleep. maybe he will practice self-soothing or something and sleep by himself? maybe he'll be an adult about this?

silence settles in the air for a few minutes and you're nearly lulled back to unconsciousness. and then you hear the sheets rustle as he sits up next to you, suddenly fully awake and stubbornly staring down at you.

"please?"

"mig, no amount of 'pleases' will convince me to sleep against your volcanic body"

"...how about just until I fall asleep?"

"but when I move away you'll wake up again."

you hear a quiet 'hmph' before you're promptly tugged back against his body. his face presses against your hair as he situates himself to engulf you in his warmth. "exactly, so don't leave me."

it's a common misconception that sub!mig likes to be the little spoon but actually he likes to cling onto you like you're a living teddy bear -- face nuzzled against your neck, legs intertwined with yours, and one large hand on your tit

you often wake up in a tangled mess, your neck stiff from the contorted positions he maneuvers your body into during the night

but you don't mind it anymore, especially on those rare morning swhen you wake up before him and you get to see those worry lines on his forehead soften as he sleeps soundly next to you

miguel is a soft and eager man:

it's his life mission to provide for you, to hear soft words of praise whisper from your lips

as soon as you're alone in a room, he drops the tough guy act and immediately searches for your warmth

miguel sticks to you like velcro when he isn't fighting crime in the city

and when he isn't with you, he's absolutely thinking about you

(of course he makes sure that you're thinking about him too with all the texts he sends you throughout the day -- adorned with cheesy emojis...)

this dude is so needy and desperate for your love, praise and approval that he's the one asking "would you still love me if i were a spider-mutant worm and i looked at you like this: 🐛 to say 'i love you'?"

would he call you 'mami'? debatable.

but he loves it when you call him honey, sweetheart, baby, bubby/bubs, hubby (he wants to marry you so bad), and puppy (WHEN HE'S KINKY BC HE'S A HORNY SOB)

you swear he whimpers a little when you tell him what a good man he is -- when you confess that he's your hero, even when he's not swinging around the city and lifting up buildings with his bare hands

his warm brown eyes search your face, a desperate quest for truth in every gentle word you speak. he's never been spoken to so softly in his life -- this tenderness, it's new...too good to be true

as time passes and your love deepens, he begins to realize that it's all true, that everthing about you is genuine, that he is loveable after all

miguel worships you:

he is definitely a worshipper when you let him be

on slower, more sensual nights, he makes sure to paint your body in kisses, from your ankles to your forehead it's almost tortuous

(maybe even bites if it's been a while since he's seen you)

he likes to kneel for you, make himself smaller so he can look up at you and appreciate everything you've provided for him

he's really whiny and pathetic though...

he wants to be told what to do, when to do it, and how. it helps him let go of this thoughts, anything that's weighing on him

it could be his heightened senses or just his desperation, but he needs to touch you all the time -- even just the light feeling of his hand against your thigh gives him a euphoric feeling.

so you deny him because you know how much he loves the delayed gratification and humiliation when you tease him for it.

"baby, you're acting so needy right now~" you decided to withdraw from the heated interaction to keep him at the edge. his eyes are dark, blazing with heat, as you speak to him with a syrupy sweet voice.

he pouts from the spot where he's kneeling for you, already achingly hard from the thorough petting session you just gave him.

"i'm not trying to be...just really need it." he's whining with a mixture of shame, frustration, and exasperation in his voice.

"It?" you tilt your head, a small smile gracing your lips.

"..." he doesn't elaborate. you can see a hint of pinkness creep up his neck as his eyes avoid yours.

he can get so shy sometimes. it's endearing. it makes you want to destroy him then put him back together again.

"honey, i can't give you what you need unless you tell me." you know what he wants, but you want to hear him say it.

"please"

[zeebro]

FOOD BATTLE 2023

[estebanbicon]

[perfectqueen]

August 11 - Happy Birthday Fuwari!

[lauritanaomystery]

To my father, who has supported me with all the power of his heart. I love you dad!!!❤

[ephiesoul]

Chibi Mack & OC Stalwart for @someslothcheese on tumblr 💝 for my Valentine Event 💝

(Late I know but I’m Finally getting around to finishing remaining requests for this event)

[demonholdingalillie]

TMAGP keeps dropping raw ass lines every episode and I'm starting to fucking die under them

[southernsolarpunk]

So update about my nanowrimo attempt (spoiler: I didn’t really keep up with it) unfortunately after like, the first week I got sick, then my son got sick, then my partner got sick- so I didn’t have any free time. BUT! it did kind of rekindle my love for writing so I’m going to try to keep writing. I think I’ll keep it small (novella length) and I’m going to write a solarpunk story!

For me personally, I always see solarpunk (utopia) as coming after dystopia, restoring the damage it caused. The working class rising up against the capitalists kind of vibe. I’m thinking of a green capitalism dystopia, with the wealthy being the only ones who end up using fossil fuels, and they live in a greenwashed hellscape etc etc.

Idk I’m working on a lot of stuff rn so it’s more of a hobby than a concrete goal.

[ladylynse]

Happy Valentines!

After some long stalling I’ve finally come up with something!

RC9GN Fowlham “growing old”

Again, happy v day!

“Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?” Randy sang—a little offkey, admittedly, after the night they’d already had with Howard and Debbie, but he was still with the beat, and it wouldn’t have really mattered even if he hadn’t been; karaoke had been her idea, and she knew his song choice had been for her, too.

“I hope to have you with me long after you’re sixty-four,” Theresa told him as he rejoined their table, and he gave her a goofy grin in response.

“Do you promise?” he asked as he withdrew a little box from his pocket, and she wasn’t sure if she should kiss him or kill him for doing this now, in public, until he flipped open the box to reveal a house key.

-|-

see more fics | more RC9GN fics

[rlbbackup]

20, 28, 29 please 🥰

Thank you Tare! <3

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

I think it's a tie between Just Another Day and Flowers and Thorns

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

AMNESIA! I loved writing that first chapter and I'm stoked to write the next parts! My second favorite is tied between All parts of my OYS verse (Just another day, Oh Your Smile, and Briar Rose)

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

In my last ask, I mentioned my all-time favorite from this year was from Breaking Free (isn't Free) chapter 36. But I'll give my second favorite passage here.

From Amnesia:

At that moment, Loid felt his heart clench so tightly within his chest that if it hadn’t been for the sound of the heart monitor, he would have thought it had stopped. Anya, his mind registered without prompting and his hands itched to yank the blanket from around his legs and go to her. While her voice was soft, he could faintly hear the worry within it and he couldn’t stop the rising self-loathing at himself for being the source of her anxiety. His little girl who tried her hardest at school even when she didn't want to study. His little girl who struggled to make friends. His little girl who adored her mother and was happy to go on ootings with the only family she had ever known.

Anya, his little girl, was calling for him and he couldn’t get to her.

"ChiChi?!" Anya cried, sounding more awake and drawing him from his internal storm of emotion. He looked up to see the girl scramble from her mother's arms and run for him. She was so small… but she ran across the distance as if her life depended on it and attempted to launch herself onto the cot.

But she was too small. She was always so small…

She huffed and turned towards Yor, raising her hands in a demand to be lifted. "Anya wants to sit with ChiChi."

"Anya-san, your father is injured," Yor cautioned, looking torn. "You shouldn't -"

"It's alright, Yor," he cut her off, gently. "I…as long as you don't squirm too much, I would very much like to hug you, Anya."

Anya's green eyes turned to him, wide and shocked. It was almost like she was looking through him rather than at him, as if he had said something that didn't quite fit.

And never had he hated himself more than at that moment. He was her father, adopted yes, but he had never shown her the true affections of one. Head pats only counted for so much, holding her when needed only counted for so much, tucking her into bed, helping her with homework, playing Bondman with her on a whim…

The affection was there, but it wasn't true. It wasn't what it should be. It wasn't what Anya deserved.

And he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to be a better father to her. She had almost lost the only legal parent she had (something Loid would have to talk to Yor about when the time was right) without knowing that he loved her. She was his world. She had breathed meaning into his mediocre life of office work and patients with her bright smiles, quirks and all.

His eye stung as Yor carefully lifted the little girl and placed her in his arms. He pulled his daughter close and buried his nose in her hair, an intense storm of emotions - guilt, affection, love, sorrow, and determination - flooding his mind. His body slowly began to relax as he drew her closer and her arms curled around his neck, her pink hair tickling his nose, but he didn’t dare move her.

Especially when, after a few moments, he could hear quiet sobbing coming from his shoulder.

He had always hated the sound of kids crying, and this was no different. But he forced himself to not pull away, to not shush her, to refuse her this chance to cry. She was scared and kids cried when they are scared. It’s the nature of things.

Instead, he speaks.

"I'm so sorry, Anya," he whispered, hugging her tighter. "I'm here. I promise I'm here and I'll never leave you like that ever again."

[hudgenssource]

vanessahudgens: Such an incredible night at the @amfar gala. Best part? Raising 2.4 mil euros with @matteobocelli 🤘🏽🤘🏽💖

[angelselene]

BNHA Comfort-Tober 3

Prompts: “Welcome home” | childhood friends | “As the leaves continue falling, I still haven’t changed at all.”

“So you’re home alone tonight?” Aizawa asks over the phone.

Toshinori chuckles, relaxed. He’s taking a walk and admiring the leaves as they turn for the fall. “As are you. Which is why you’re talking to me.”

“Is it now?”

Humming an affirmative, Toshinori says, “What would Hitoshi-kun say if he knew you were calling me just because he’s out with his childhood friends?”

Aizawa grunts grumpily in his ear, and Toshinori smiles again. “What would Todoroki say about you being on the phone with me?”

“That it’s nice to see I keep in touch with you.” Aizawa groans, almost theatrically, and Toshinori would swear he can hear his friend roll his eyes. “You’ve changed, my friend.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell Aizawa that if he keeps rolling his eyes, they’ll stick like that. “I don’t change,” he says. “If anyone has, it’s you.”

That makes Toshinori blink. “Me?” he asks, curious. “As the leaves continue falling, I still haven’t changed at all.”

“You’re... happier,” Aizawa says, almost as if he hates to say it.

“I’ve always been happy,” Toshinori says.

“Not like this. Not like Todoroki makes you happy,” Aizawa says.

Toshinori thinks it’s ludicrous, but they make small talk as he works his way back to the apartment building. They say brief goodbyes before he steps inside. When he gets in, the scent of Shouto’s favorite tea fills the air, and he smiles again, warmth filling his chest, calling out, “Tadaima.”

Surely having heard the door open, Shouto comes around the corner, meeting him in the genkan. He leans up, standing on the steps, and Toshinori gives him the mandatory kiss. Shouto’s mouth is warm against his own, even the cooler side.

It’s soft and quick, but when it breaks, Shouto says, his breath warm across Toshinori’s mouth, “Welcome home.”

“I thought you’d be out later,” Toshinori admits. He doesn’t often go out with his old school friends--at least, not with more than one or two of them. It’s not disinterst as much as most of them are top pros, which makes them quite busy.

Shouto lifts his head again, a silent request for another kiss, and Toshinori is happy to oblige. His mouth is warming up enough that part Shouto’s kiss feels almost cool. When the move apart again, Shouto says, “I missed you. You should have come.”

“I thought you’d enjoy an evening not having to worry about feeding me,” Toshinori says.

Eyes narrowing, Shouto says, “Eating out with you is not a burden. I’d have rather had you there.”

“Then, if you’d like, next time I will come.”

A tension he hadn’t quite registered drains out of Shouto’s shoulders, and he looks pleased. “Good,” he says, reaching up to stroke Toshinori’s face as he does when he can’t lean up far enough to kiss him without Toshinori leaning down. “Come get some tea and warm up.”

Finishing toeing off his shoes, Toshinori follows his partner into the kitchen, where the tea waits for him. Warmth, peace, happiness, and a strong sense of rightness fills Toshinori’s chest as he watches Shouto move about the kitchen, comfortable in their home after so long.

“I love you,” Toshinori says.

Shouto pauses, a slight flush coloring his cheeks, still flustered by those words after so long. “I love you too,” he says in return, and the words are as sincere as Toshinori’s own. “But why do you love me today?”

Grinning so wide it almost hurts, Toshinori says, “Because you make me happy.”

Looking away, eyes blinking rapidly, he focuses on cleaning out the tea ball, but he does say, “You make me happy too.”

Toshinori knows, and he realizes that Aizawa was right: he has changed. And he loves Shouto for it all the more.

Complete Prompt List [x]

[axlswifeandhusband]

Wooo pride month!

[the-moon-loves-the-sea]

I’m increasingly worried by all the people on my dash calling themselves insane for loving stories in the way humans have loved stories our whole history. “The brain rot is spreading” — you mean you were changed by art? “I’m not normal about this” — you were moved by it? You felt human emotions about it? “I’m about to be so annoying” — you’re going to talk about art? You’re going to be passionate? You’re going to think deeply about it? You’re going to feel love for the work of someone’s soul? You are not a consumer and art is not a product to be casually used! You are a human and stories are the beating heart of our humanity! You must feel everything and you must know that it is normal!

[badolmen]

People against piracy fail to realize that no, I can’t just ‘buy it.’ They stopped making DVDs and Blu-Rays. They’re barely offering digital copies for download. I am not spending money I could use for food or bills to pay for a subscription service just so I can always have access to a beloved piece of media. Especially not when the service will remove media on a whim without concern for how the loss of access to that piece will make its artistic conservation nigh impossible.

For example, I recently learned that Disney+ had an original film called Crater. It’s scifi, family friendly, and seems cool - I would love to buy it as a holiday gift for my little brother! But: it’s exclusive to D+ and THEY REMOVED IT LITERALLY MONTHS AFTER ITS RELEASE.

The ONLY way I can directly access this film is through piracy. The ONLY available ‘copies’ of this film are hosted on piracy websites. Disney will NEVER release it in theaters, or as something to buy, and it may NEVER return to the streaming service. It will be LOST because we aren’t allowed to purchase it for personal viewing. If I can’t pay to own it, I won’t pay for the privilege of losing it when corporate decides to put it in a vault.

So yes, I’m going to pirate and support piracy.

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

DEVASTATING the lyric you've been mishearing is better than the real one