#dimensions) then i will have a clean start with much to work on and my creative juices flowing

[kuiperror]

ok i have to make 10 comics every month for my fancomic . or approximately 2.5 comics every week

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I am SOO sorry that I have been cramping you with asks, so feel as free as you can be to push this one alll the way back, or deny it, I am not desperate at all. I just want to type this before I forget this. So after the Megatron with a daughter who was his opposite post, I, too, am in love with this opposite personality daughter series. Like just all of our favourite men as fathers of daughters with individual personalities of themselves but also more or less all resonated their fathers one way or another, or someone they knew! I LOVE IT! And I realized how this formed a perfect trilogy now.

So I am real curious. What if the three daughters exist in the same universe? And, may or may not interact? (would we need individual names for them all? Or Buddy 1 and 2 and 3 like Spider-Man: No Way Home and no one questions it?)

Hello!

I've actually been thinking about continuing the 'daughter with different personality' thing. Maybe in the future you'll see more!

Originally the plan was to have all the Buddy's to be in the same universe, but I ended up scrapping the idea and decided to create separate universes for each one (unless the plot tells me otherwise :))

When I saw the Spiderman part my mind went to this.

(Who knows for the future)

Hope you enjoy!

Optimus Prime, Ratchet, and Megatron's daughters meeting each other for the first time.

SFW, Platonic, Familial, groundbridge and relic shenanigans, Cybertronain reader

TFP

In TFP Rats universe.

Buddy was just minding her own business cleaning and wiping down her father’s tools.

It’s a nice day on base.

There was low Decepticon activity for the past few days, the children were playing their games, Bulkhead and Smokescreen were trying to get Bumblebee and Arcee to play Lob with them, Ultra Magnus and Optimus were reviewing plans for something, and her father, Ratchet, was with Wheeljack looking at a new relic they found in the Artic.

“It’s not another scraplet trap, right?”--Raf

“Nope! Completely checked it with the scanner. We should be good now.”--Buddy

“We ‘should’ be good?”--Bulkhead

“There is always a percentage of things blowing up, I’m not counting that out.”--Buddy

Without warning, the relic whirled to life jumping and shaking onto the floor.

Everyone jumped and backed away from the whirling sound it made. Bright light came out of it as the shaking intensified. The noise was loud enough to get everyone to come to the main room.

The machine scanned the closest bot, Buddy, and opened a portal, shooting out tons of air.

The children nearly flew back, but thanks to Ultra Magnus and Optimus, they were caught before they flew off the ledge.

“Hey Ratchet! What’s it doing?!”--Bulkhead

“Oh, it’s putting on a rock concert. OBVIOUSLY, I DON’T KNOW!”--Ratchet

Machine whirls louder.

“Buddy! Hide behind the med slab!”--Wheeljack

Buddy already behind the slab, clutching onto dear life.

“With all due respect, WHAT DO YOU THINK I’M DOING?!”--Buddy

Meanwhile in megs dimension

Buddy calmly walking down the halls of the Nemesis with some data pads.

“Hmm… wonder why they need so many data pads…”--Buddy

Sudden portal pops up on the wall next to them.

“What in the—”--Buddy

Portal starts sucking her in.

“AHHH—”--Buddy

Portal sucks Buddy in leaving the discarded data pads sprawled in the middle of the hallway.

In op dimension

Buddy is resting her arm on the handrail while talking with Miko.

“How’s the playlist going?”--Miko

“Haven’t been working too much on it. Patrol has been up my tailpipe lately. Do you have any more recommendations?”--Buddy

“Yeah! How about—”—Miko

A sudden portal opens.

“Umm, I don’t remember Ratchet opening up a groundbridge.”--Miko

Buddy grabbing a grenade from her subspace.

“That’s because he hasn’t!”--Buddy

Buddy chucks a grenade at the portal.

BAM!

Nothing happens to the portal.

“What!”—Miko and Buddy

The portal starts sucking them in.

Buddy grabs Miko as she starts to get dragged in, pounds a hole in the ledge and places her in there.

“Buddy? Buddy what are you—”--Miko

Buddy groans as she tries to keep her footing but gets sucked in and the portal closes.

“BUDDY!”--Miko

In Rats dimension

Two figures pop out of the portal and slam into Ratchet’s daughter.

The portal closes.

The two figures groaned.

Op Buddy sits up rubbing her helm.

Meg Buddy sliding off the med slab and onto the floor on her back.

“Urgh… my aching helm…”—Megs Buddy

Rat Buddy gently massaging her helm before looking at the two strangers.

“Who are you?”—Rat Buddy

Op Buddy looks at the others.

“Who are you?!”—Op Buddy

Meg Buddy looking at all the Autobots in the area.

“WHERE AM I?!”—Meg Buddy

Optimus carefully approaches the younglings.

Megs Buddy quickly moves back while the other two just stare widely.

“Buddy—”--Optimus

“Yes?”—All Buddy’s

All Buddy’s turn around and point at each other.

“Your name is Buddy! I’m Buddy!”—All Buddy’s

Meg Buddy standing up pacing a bit.

“Maybe this is some alternate universe…I always thought something like this was possible from what he said… It’s the only logical explanation for this…”—Megs Buddy

“That seems to check out. Which explains why Dad hasn’t started giving me the ‘speech’ again.”—Op Buddy

“Dad?”--Kids

“… Oh, this is going to be fun.”—Op Buddy

“This is not going to be fun…”—Meg Buddy

Everyone is confused.

Come to find the relic would scan someone and find ‘alternatives’ of them. It could mean alternative of the bot or by their names.

To avoid confusion the Buddy’s are labeled.

Op’s Buddy would be known as Buddy 1.

Rats Buddy would be known as Buddy 2.

Megs Buddy would be known as Buddy 3.

“How come she’s Buddy 1? Why not our Buddy? She was hear before you guys showed up.”--Miko

“Cause I’m older and cooler.”—Buddy 1

“Yeah right.”--Miko

“Don’t believe me Miko? Watch this.”—Buddy 1

Buddy 1 transforms into a monster truck.

“I take it back! That’s so cool! Can I ride you!?”--Miko

“Of course!”—Buddy 1

“Miko no!”--Bulkhead

“Miko yes!”--Miko

“Then why is our Buddy number two?”--Raf

“Because I’m the second oldest. Three is the youngest one here.”—Buddy 2

“Guess it makes sense. You she is kind a smaller than you two.”--Jack

“Hey! I’m a minicon! Of course, I’m smaller than everyone here!”—Buddy 3

“You’re a minicon?”--Arcee

Buddy 3 shrinks back a bit at Arcee’s gaze nodding.

Buddy 1 made the Team guess who her father was, bets were on the table and ready to be thrown. Buddy 1 managed to get Buddy 3 to get in on the guessing part. Buddy 3 guaranteed that no one would guess her creator.

A part of her didn’t want them to know either.

“All right we are ready.”--Miko

“Wow so soon?”—Buddy 3

“Too soon if you asked me.”—Buddy 1

“We’ve narrowed down three bots for each. If we win, 1 needs to take me out dune bashing in her alt mode.”--Miko

“Miko!”--Bulkhead

“I can stand by that.”—Buddy 1

“And if you don’t guess right?”—Buddy 2

“You’ll have to tell us.”--Miko

“…”—Buddy 3

“Lets get started!”--Miko

“Okay these ones are for Buddy 1.”--Smokescreen

“Got it, lets hear them.”—Buddy 1

“First one… Wheeljack!”--Miko

Buddy 1 laughing at the response.

“HAHAHAHA, Sorry, its just, just that Jackie here is more like my Uncle. Definitely not my dad.”—Buddy 1

“All righty then… Bulkhead!”--Miko

Buddy starts laughing at that one too.

“Nope! Bulks also like my Uncle!”—Buddy 1

“The last one… Smokescreen!”—Miko

Buddy is now on the floor laughing her tanks and near crying.

“…I’ll take that as a no then…”--Raf

Buddy finally stops laughing.

“You lose.”—Buddy 1

“Got that. Now spill it! Who’s your Dad?!”--Miko

Buddy stands up rather stoically.

“One shall stand, one shall fall.”—Buddy 1

Everyone stares at Optimus, who looks equally as surprised.

“Your—your Boss Bots kid!? How!?”--Miko

“A question everyone has been asking since we met.”—Buddy 1

Miko turns to Buddy 3.

She hoped that they would have forgotten her, but alas here she was.

“Your turn!”--Miko

Buddy 3 nervously sits next to Prime and Ratchet

“First one… Arcee!”--Miko

Buddy 3 looking terrified.

“NO! I mean no.”--Buddy 3

“How about… Ultra Magnus!”--Miko

Buddy shakes her helm while looking at Magnus.

“Sorry try again.”—Buddy 3

“Okay… Optimus!”--Miko

Buddy 1 looks at Buddy 3.

“Are we siblings!?”—Buddy 1

“I mean aren’t we all in a way?”—Buddy 3

“Buddy.”--Ratchet

“Sorry, the answer is no.”—Buddy 3

“Dang it!”--Miko

“Then who is your Dad?”--Raf

“…Megatron…”—Buddy 3

“…”—Everyone

“HOW!”--Jack

Buddy shrinks back at the sudden movements.

Buddy 1 and Buddy 2 immediately stand by Buddy 3

“Hold it now. Just because 3 dad is Bucket head, no offense.”—Buddy 1

“None taken.”—Buddy 3

“Doesn’t mean she’s bad. Right?”—Buddy 2

“No, no I’m not.”—Buddy 3

“Really and how can you prove it?”--Arcee

“Arcee—”—Buddy 2

“Well think about this. If I was truly bad, why haven’t I hurt you.”—Buddy 3

“Because your short?”--Smokescreen

“… Okay that one’s asking for it… but beside the point, I could have easily hurt the kids, yet I haven’t. I could have attacked or given any other hint that I had malicious intentions. But I haven’t, have I?”—Buddy 3

Pause

“I stand by 3.”—Buddy 1

“And I stand with 1 and 3.”—Buddy 2

“I will stand by her as well.”--Optimus

“Prime!”—Most of the team

“Prime?”—Buddy 3

“She is our guest and so is 1. We must treat them with the respect they deserve.”--Optimus

“…Thank you Prime.”—Buddy 3

After the confrontation a little more research is done on the machine.

Thanks to Buddy 3’s expert decoding skills, she was able to read the full effects of the machine as well as how to reverse it.

The good news was that the effects were reversable.

The bad news was that the machine needed time to recuperate before usage again.

The Buddy’s decided to kill time by hanging out with each other and the team in the meantime.

Aka shenanigan time.

1 tries to start a conversation with her alternate family especially with Prime.

She is curious to see if there are any differences between her father and her alternative father.

“You always did have a thing for the Halls, didn’t you?”—Buddy 1

“The Halls of Iacon was where I worked.”--Optimus

“You mean, where Orion worked.”—Buddy 1

“…Yes.”--Optimus

“Sorry, but I see Orion and Optimus as two separate bots sometimes.”—Buddy 1

“It is understandable.”--Optimus

3 tended to stay with 2 for the most part.

2 was a soft soul and was quiet for the most part.

2 did entertain 3 with the occasional story here and there.

Buddy 2 and 3 talking to each other near the med bay.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”--Smokescreen

“Beep boop bep bop boop. (Probably about medical stuff.)”--Bumblebee

“Yeah, probably.”--Smokescreen

“So, then Arcee raised her blasters at the wannabe Cybertronians and started blasting.”—Buddy 2

Buddy 3 listening intently.

1 likes to place 2 and 3 on her shoulders.

1 being the tallest and bulkiest of the Buddy’s could support the weight, not that they did weigh anything to her.

The other two Buddy’s liked feeling tall.

“Hey! Hey! Look at this!”—Buddy 1

Buddy 1 supporting Buddy 2 on her shoulders while Buddy 3 was on top.

“We are Buddy Supreme!”—Buddy 2

Buddy 1 has a bright smile on her face.

Buddy 2 has a wobbly smile trying not to laugh while carrying 3.

Buddy 3 is just staring in amazement.

“So, this is what it’s like to be tall… this is nice.”—Buddy 3

Soon it was time for them to leave.

3 really doesn’t want to leave her new friends behind.

She certainly doesn’t want to go back to the dark halls of the Nemesis.

But this pleasant experience was soon to be the spark to ignite the flame for peace between the two fractions again.

She was going to do everything she could to end this war with peace.

Whether Megatron liked it or not.

“It was lovely seeing you all and knowing there are alternative versions of myself out there. I hope we meet again on much pleasanter terms in the future.”—Buddy 3

“Same goes to you 3!”—Buddy 1 and 2

Buddy 3 walks through the portal.

A flash of purple shines before returning to its natural color.

“It’s your turn kid—”--Wheeljack

“SEE YA!”—Buddy 1

Buddy 1 back flips into the portal before a flash of blue shines.

The portal turns off and all is still.

“…Well, wasn’t that an eventful Wednesday afternoon?”—Buddy

In megs universe

Buddy bounces off the wall of the Nemesis.

Literally.

“For once I’d wish for a smooth landing…”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Soundwave

Buddy looks up to see Soundwave.

Buddy waves.

“Hey Soundwave.”--Buddy

Soundwave starts walking forward.

“Sorry about the data pads—”--Buddy

Soundwave is in front of Buddy.

“I swear I meant to go straight to the room when—”--Buddy

Soundwave gets down on his knees and pulls Buddy in a tight hug.

Buddy freezes for a moment before hugging back.

None say anything, just holding onto each other in one of the empty halls of the Nemesis.

In op universe

Buddy gets thrown at Bumblebee and Smokescreen.

“OW!”--Buddy

“BEEP! (BUDDY!)”--Bumblebee

“BUDDY!”--Smokescreen

Both bots hugging Buddy’s sides tightly.

“We heard from Miko that you go sucked into some groundbridge or something!”--Smokescreen

Buddy patting both bots helms.

Bumblebee digs his helm further in Buddy’s neck cables whirling in concern and relief.

“Boy, do I have a story to tell you guys. But let’s wait till everyone gets here, I can’t wait to see Doc bot’s reaction to his daughter.”--Buddy

“HIS WHAT!?”—Smokescreen and Bumblebee

“MY WHAT!”--Ratchet

[slushycoookie]

Shaving His Hair

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader

Word Count: 776

Content: Fluff, lice, Miguel's curls are gone and he's bald! (No not really)

Summary: After an unexpected lice outbreak, you have to cut Miguel’s hair.

A/N: Miguel when his hair is shaved is hot as hell, I don't care what anyone says. Also this one is kinda connected to the washing his hair post I did so if you wanted to read that too, here.

There was a lice outbreak in HQ.

You would think a bunch of superheroes could combat a bunch of little bugs but no.

Miguel ordered anyone who had said lice to get it taken care of in their dimension. Or go to the infirmary for treatment. The leader of Spider Society thought he was safe. Trying to avoid anyone who had potential contact with someone with lice. He was wrong. That’s why you two were in the bathroom. His head was in his hands as he sat on the toilet while you laid out the required tools. All set up like you were about to conduct surgery.

“This was your idea.” You reminded him while putting on rubber gloves. “The doctor said we could try the treatment and see what happens. You don't have to cut it.”

Miguel’s head shook, not wanting to look at what was about to happen. “The doctor said my case was more serious. It's best to cut it all off.” You were about to argue some more. Try to get him to see reason. But he stared at you with large eyes, knowing what he had to do despite not liking the decision. “It's my hair.”

He was right. 

You wanted to support him, reassure him you were always going to be on his side. So you got the clippers ready. You weren't a professional but you knew how to cut hair. You surfed the internet to look up tips to make sure it wasn't uneven. Miguel wanted to get everything over with but you were determined to make his hair look nice.

The buzz from the clipper filled the bathroom. You started from the front, placing his head back to get a good view. The device hovered over his hairline as you wanted to give him one more chance.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes.” Miguel huffed, “I'm not changing my mind.”

“Alright, alright. Just checking.”

You ran the blade towards you, chunks of hair falling off and hitting the ground. Bye bye curls. Your eyes couldn't help but go wide at the fact you could see his head. Now you were picturing how he would look shaved. With that sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Miguel was going to be attractive regardless of his hairstyle.

“Any day now…”

You stuck your tongue out at him before continuing. Dragging the clipper down his head. Locks cascading down on his covered shoulders. You did your best to get all the extra hair you could, making sure he didn't look a hot mess. 

Once you were done, it was time to wash it. You suggested doing it at the kitchen sink as you didn't feel like going in the shower.

“Really? We're doing this in the kitchen?” He asked.

“Don’t worry. I already cleaned it.” You pointed down to get him to bend over. Thank goodness for stools as you stood on it to get a good angle. The shampoo for lice had a minty scent. Almost medicinal when you rubbed your fingers along his scalp. The scent was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes. You hoped your partner wasn't having a worse time due to his enhanced senses.

“How you doing?” 

Miguel grunted and you couldn't help but snort. “I'm fine.”

“At least one of us is.” You blinked repeatedly to get yourself together before rinsing him off. As much as you weren't a fan of the shampoo, you wanted to be thorough. Much to yourself and apparently his chagrin, you did another wash. It was better the second time around, your eyes getting itself together this time. There weren't any complaints from Miguel either. 

With the lice vanquished and the prevention solution working, you dried him off with a towel. You grabbed the mirror from the bathroom and held it up to his face to see what you did. Miguel examined himself. Head tilting from side to side while trying to see how he looked. 

“My head…it's so…square looking.”

You snickered, “It's a very handsome square look.”

Miguel playfully glared at you, “So you agree? That I'm square?”

“When you wear those glasses, yeah.” He pulled you in for a hug, not tolerating your teasing. “Okay, okay! I'm joking, you actually look pretty handsome.”

He held up the mirror once more. Seeing yourself and him in the reflection. “I do?”

“Yes. My handsome baby.” You peppered his face with kisses. The medicinal scent from the shampoo still lingering. “Oh by the way, you should find the person who started that outbreak. So this doesn't happen again.”

Miguel pursed his lips, having the same thought. “Yeah, good idea.”

[alkalinefrog]

Hey Alka, I had a quick question for you (whenever you have the time to answer or even if you have the time), I've been taking some storyboard classes and with my illustration background, it's been hard to really find a good shorthand for characters to really get that anatomy/gesture looking right without it being too sketchy and unreadable.

How long did it take you to find your storyboard shorthand, and what exercises would you recommend to try to find it? I'm sure it just takes time and practice, I've been doing a lot more studies and gesture drawings (currently following along all the free Glenn Vilppu videos I can find on youtube) but I wanted to ask you as well because I am in love with how fluid your anatomy is, and how clear your storyboards read. And those hands my god you're a wizard!!!

Thanks a bunch, have a wonderful day!

Heya Secret, great to hear from ya! Well, what you don’t see online is how gross the rough stage of my boards can get LMFAO. Most of the boards I post are actually overly cleaned up because I'm just doing them for fun and can afford the time! I'm not really sure how long it took to develop my shorthand, I've never really enjoyed drawing detail to begin with, so when I decided to go into boarding I kinda just leaned into it!

I’ve covered a bunch of gesture drawing exercises already if you scroll through my advice tag, but ***once you have a good foundation*** here's some stuff you can try!

First you'll want to build up an arsenal of anatomy hacks you can always fallback on, particularly for complex parts of the body. The less time you spend on details, the more time you have to focus on the overall pose and storytelling. Aim to find ways to draw with as FEW lines as possible. If I had to make a list to streamline what to practice:

Head shapes - find the most efficient way to draw the front + 3/4 + side view in as few lines as possible (the challenge is still making them look structured with dimension)

Eyes - are SO important for expressions! Unless your project has characters with dot eyes, you're going to need to find a quick way to do the circle and iris in as few lines as possible. Make sure you can convey where they're looking

Hands - fists (you'll be drawing a lot of people holding poles), open palms at various angles, foreshortened fingers pointing at viewer, fingers making grabby motions----protips: 1) half the time all you need is a vague triangle/rectangle plus thumb sticking up and that's a hand 2) if the hand is relaxed, you probably don't need to draw the knuckles. Save some time!

Feet - just learn how to make sure they look like they're standing on the ground, and do some studies of what they look like when you're running. Otherwise you can usually get away with a vague shoe or boot shape (just add toe lines if they're not wearing any)

----everything else you'll practice as you go!

Jump from SUPER rough straight into clean boards to really force yourself to be economic. I've done each of these methods for work before:

Before you start boarding with a character, sketch them a few times with the intention of simplifying their design while keeping them recognizable:

You'd be surprised how little you need to recognize a character:

Depending on the scene, you can adjust how much detail you want to include:

Stay loose/more generalized with action, especially for the "inbetweens" between key poses. Clean up enough to communicate movement and make the character recognizable.

If the character's small on screen in a wide shot, edit out most details and focus on the silhouette

Save the detail work for character acting, when you really want to be specific with their expressions and gestures.

But outside of all that, be bold and fearless!! Everyone has that stage where their boards look like spaghetti! Boarding is like handwriting; you could have really shitty chicken scratch, but if you're writing beautiful poetry, who cares!

god I love drawing hands you don’t even know thank you so much!! Good luck dude!! You’ve more than got this!!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey there! Saw requests were open was wondering if I could get some yandere!rick prime headcanons? I know he doesn’t “technically” care about anything but I could see him as the type to be like “I decided you’re mine so you’re mine” kinda thing! thanks for the writing we love and appreciate you for it!

Yandere Rick Prime

Headcanons

How did you know Prime Rick is one of my fave Rick and Morty characters anon 👀

Tw for yandere themes, ig?

 -          You are right to believe that Rick Prime would have no love for another person or living creature, as he sees little to no worth in others and their lives. He especially would hate other Ricks, or anyone related to Ricks.

-          But if you happen to catch his attention somehow, I wish you luck. Now, it would be difficult in the first place to catch his attention in a way that he doesn’t want to test you or want you dead.

-          Maybe you are rare in the multiverse, maybe other versions of you work as a great companion or lover for other Ricks. That would be enough to catch his attention in the beginning at least, so he would find a version of you that fits his palette the most and take them.

-          Prime Rick has most likely taken multiple versions of yourself before he comes across you, but when they stopped serving their purpose or grew boring, he would get rid of them, each in different disgusting and violent ways.

 -          When he stumbled across you in the multiverse though, he became hooked in the way an addict is hooked. Now, he has no romantic love for you, it’s more the love one has for their car or their pet.

-          You are different from other versions of yourself, seeing as you have no Rick or Morty. Actually, you had grown tired of your Ricks shit and told him to shove it after a few too many adventures went south and after your Rick verbally abused you too much.

-          That really had Prime interested, as most versions of you always bent over backwards for Ricks and put up with the treatment. Prime started stalking you after that, researching you and your habits like one would an insect or newly discovered animal.

-          He will go through your things with little care, not caring if you realize he’s stalking you. I mean, what could you really do against him if you ever caught him?

 -          He stays hidden in the beginning more for the fun of it, wanting to see if your dimensions Rick will notice him, or if you will ever figure it out.

-          Prime has a good laugh when you assume its your dimensions Rick that has been going through your things, stealing your clothes, or even taking your toothbrush. In reality its Prime who’s been taking all of it, adding it to an ever growing “pile of research” that in reality is more akin to a shrine.

-          His interest in you bubbles into obsession at some point, not that Prime really minds it one bit. His thoughts are consumed by you, and he has decided by himself that you are his version of (Y/N) whether you like it or not.

-          Prime starts planning on taking you with him, having seen how many Ricks take their version of you on dates or adventures, he wants that too, just to try it out he tells himself. Not because his obsession has grown to the point where he lives and breathes you.

  -          He loves how different you are, he wants to take you apart and find out just why you are so starkly the opposite of other versions of you.

-          He’s convinced you are specifically made for him, and that the reason you grew tired of your own Ricks shit was because he wasn’t good enough, and that since Prime is the true Rickest Rick, you will be perfect together.

-          Prime will lose his shit one day when your dimensions Rick shows up to your place, trying to apologize the way Ricks do. It even looked like your Rick had cut down on his drinking, cleaned himself up and tried to adjust his behavior.

-          Right as Prime is about to go in and kill the Rick, you just scoff at the other man and tell him to go die for all you care and slam the door in his face.

-          Prime is delighted because this just fits the theory in his mind even more, that the only Rick right for you is himself.

 -          One day Prime will simply wander into your life. You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, maybe trying to find a job or similar, when a green portal opens above the couch.

-          At first you think its your dimensions Rick and are ready to unleash hell upon him when he lands on the cushions, but the arm thrown over your shoulder isn’t wearing a lab coat, and looking close this Rick has completely different hair and looks younger.

-          Normally you would have yelled at the random Rick anyways for barging in on you like that, but something about the look in this Ricks eyes and the way his smile just seemed a little too sharp at the edges made something tingle in the back of your mind.

-          The tingle was fight or flight, and where among (Y/N)s you were different, because yours always told you to fight compared to other versions of yourself who always took flight. For once it didn’t just tell you to run, it screamed it so loud you tried to fling yourself off the couch.

-          But Primes arm was iron tight around your shoulder and pulled you right back down, the Rick cackling at your attempted scramble, seeming extremely amused as you tried to hit, scratch, kick and even bite.

 -          You could do nothing but struggle as Prime wrapped both his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, not even reacting as you nail him between the legs in a last attempt to free yourself.

-          When you have tired yourself out completely and finally look up at the Rick, Prime shoots you a smile that would almost be sweet, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had blood splattered all over his face.

-          That’s when you finally notice how he seemed to be slathered in the stuff, trying to flinch back when one of his hands come up to cradle your face in his palm, leaving a wet bloody handprint against your skin.

-          “Come on (Y/N), why are you trying to leave so badly?” he coos as if taunting you. Some part of your brain notices that he isn’t burping or slurring like other Ricks you’ve met, but the survival part of your brain didn’t care much for those facts.

-          “W-what do you want” you growl out, trying your best to glare at the man holding you still in his lap with just one arm. Prime laughs at your expression, the dark look on your face making his heartrate quicken. Never had a version of you looked so murderous, even when he was ripping them apart.

 -          “Well, I’m here to pick you up. As your Rick, we should always be together” Prime said with a large grin, the grip around your waist tightening as he said he was your Rick.

-          The grip on your face grew rougher as Prime pulled your face closer to his own, his eyes boring into yours. There was a light in them that made a deep pit of dread grow in your stomach, your tongue peeking out to pet your suddenly very dry lips and mouth.

-          Primes eyes immediately snapped down to the movement, his pupils dilating somewhat as he saw the pink of your tongue. Prime didn’t love you, not romantically like other Ricks loved their (Y/N), but he wanted you.

-          “I already have a Rick” you finally force out, the dread growing larger at the way his eyes snapped up again, staring at you like he could pick you apart piece by piece with just this attention.

-          Then he started laughing, so hard it made his whole body bounce and making you bounce along with it. Releasing your cheek, he wiped away a tear that had gathered from his laughing before he spoke.

-          “Oh, that guy? Where do you think I was before I came here?” he asked, seeming to take great joy in the way your eyes widened, and your pupils shrank. “Come on, you couldn’t expect me to let that fucker live after touching what’s mine, took care of that little family of his too” he purred, leaning in closer, his tight grip keeping you still even as you tried to struggle.

 -          A flare of anger and anguish spread through your body, even though you hated Rick, you didn’t want him to die, or for the Smith family to die either.

-          Seeing the way your eyes filled with fire made Prime excited, he loved seeing just how different you were, and he loved your reactions.

-          When you opened your mouth to yell at him, Prime surged forwards and grabbed your chin before forcing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. You tried to struggle but the grip on your chin and the grasp he had on your hips kept you from getting away.

-          Prime groans in pleasure when you try and bite his tongue, blood filling your mouths and mixing with the spit and dribbling down your chins. He can’t keep his eyes from rolling back as you bite hard enough to sever his tongue, the piece of flesh going limp in your mouth.

-          When Prime finally pulls back, a string of blood and spit connecting your mouths, you gag and spit out the muscle, retching to try and get the taste and feeling to go away. Tears gather in your eyes as it finally hits you just what Prime had done, and how crazy he was.

 -          Forcing you to look at him once again, you struggle to see through the tears as he sticks out the non-severed part of his tongue, horror washing through you as you see the muscle regrow with ease.

-          Something flares up inside you, this time a deep gut turning fear and need for survival as you try to struggle once again, tears running down your cheeks as you continue to gag on the blood in your mouth and memory of biting off his tongue.

-          Seeming to have grown tired of your struggling for now, you don’t notice Prime injecting you with something until your body goes limp. You can’t even choke out words as Prime wraps his arms around your waist and stands up, lifting you without any issue.

-          As your vision started to darken you could hear the sound of a portal being opened, your thoughts turning to mush as your head finally gave out and you fell against his shoulder.

-          A few tears ran down your cheeks as you fall into unconsciousness, wetting the shoulder of Primes jacket as he carried you through the portal. You had no idea what he was saying, his words blurring together as you fall unconscious, but you were sure whatever he had to say was bad news for you.

[matenrou-fan]

Lucifer pays you a visit

I didn't write that much for OM last time when actually I really wanted to!! So I decided to finish this thing that was in my drafts for a while.. Hope to receive more OM request this time ahhhh!! >.<

Actions are taking place in the human world, when you get back after a year in Devildom. But even if the student exchange program is over, Lucifer still wants to see his dearest girlfriend

femreader, teasing, begging, body worship, oral (receiving);; 2748 words;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

You sigh, a little bit nervous as you look at a clock on your bed table. Why does time always get so slow when you are waiting for something? Or maybe you should use the word someone..? Anyways, this waiting starts getting on your nerves and you get up from bed.

Your room was really comfy, looking the same as the time when you left it, but honestly now you feel like something was off, like it was empty a little bit. Even with all those things that you were missing for the whole year that you spent in another dimension with demon brothers didn't bring you that happens that you expected to feel when you finally get back home.

Oh, but maybe they can entertain you right now, as you have nothing more to do. It has already been a few weeks since you got here so all dust was cleaned up but you still have a little mess here, your old things were mixed with new ones that you brought with yourself as farewell gifts from Devildom. You start looking through pages of your old diary, reading about your old boring days. Well, they weren't that boring back then, just now, after all those things that you've been through, these little notes look so.. peaceful.. You can't help but chuckle and move forward, searching for more things that will bring you some memories.

After some time you finally get to your wardrobe. Huh, there's so much clothes that you forget about..! This past week was a little bit busy as you tried to revive your "normal" human life again, thinking about studying and working, so you didn't pay that much attention to your clothes.

As you looked through shelves you noticed the one with pajamas, and one set got your attention.. It was a pink silk shorts with white prints and a little bow on a waistband, and a matching top with thin white lace as straps. You chuckle, looking at a small piece of fabric and then quickly undress yourself. You were a little playful today so you decided that this cute pajama, that was much more revealing than the one that you picked before, is more suited to your mood right now. You bite your lip as you look at the mirror in your bedroom, just a cute and innocent look, but you can imagine his reaction already.

Speak of the Devil.. As soon as you think about your visitor again you suddenly hear a knock on the door. You ran out of the bedroom, already a little bit inpatient.

"Who it's is..?" - you asked with a smirk on your face when you get closer to the door, heart beating so fast as you already know who is standing there.

"You already know who's decided to pay a visit to you so late.." - the deep voice on the other side of the door chuckled. - "It's Lucifer.."

Well. Any other humans would probably shoot their door tight after hearing something like that, thinking it's some sort of prank, but you know that's not a joke or something, and quickly open the door.

Lucifer was standing here, his casual academy's suit was gone, as he was wearing black sweater with a turtleneck and dark blue jacket. A simple look but he was so charming right now, his black styled hair and deep red eyes was matching his clothes perfectly.

"How I'm glad to finally meet you again.." - he smirks, his voice playful as always. But as soon as his eyes move from your smiling face to your body, exploring your soft, almost uncovered skin, his smirk grows wider. - "Someone definitely was waiting for me today, huh? Such a great welcoming move just for me?"

You look at him innocently, acting like you don't understand what he's talking about and lead him to your kitchen. Despite all these teases you actually missed him and wanted to talk about so many things.

And he feels the same. As you two drink tea together, he listens carefully to all your stories. You got carried away a little, telling him about all that awkward situation when you suddenly get back after a whole year, your friend's reaction and everything. There were some funny stories, some embarrassing ones, but you didn't hide anything from him. And your lover appreciated that, he didn't even try to hide his smile as he was listening to your mumbles, these sparkles in your eyes are so adorable, and these cute giggles.. He can't help but sometimes his gaze starts wandering around your body, slowly moving from your small hands to your naked shoulder and then to your breast, covered with light fabric. He licks his lips and looks at your eyes again, despite he's still hearing all that you say his mind flies away in another world as he starts wondering about all those things that can help him show just how much he actually missed you all this time.

Then you suddenly finish and smile at him.

"So, and how are things in Devildom? I bet you also have plenty of stories about Mammon causing troubles, don't you?" - you giggle, drinking warm herbal tea and Lucifer scoff:

"You bet I have them.. But darling.." - he moves closer, his fingertips touching your hands lightly - "Don't you think that now, when we finally have some.. private time without my annoying brothers, we should spend it more properly?"

He smirks, noticing as light pink covers your cheeks, your eyes on his face, the mix of surprise, embarrassment and tease in your gaze look so charming. Who know Avatar of Pride would fall so easily in your cute little trap? But a little look at your body, this soft and sweet smell of your skin was enough for him to get needy. He hold your hands more tightly, squeezing it a little as his thumbs caressing your knuckles. Lucifer sighs a little, revealing his softer side, as he can't help but feel the same pink color adorn his face too.

"I missed you so much.." - your heart skipped a beat when he said that, his tone so soft and deep. It was unusual to see him like that, as he showed this sensitive part of him only for you on rare occasions. But that also means that he's not joking or playing right now..

You look at his large hands on your smaller one, then look back at him. The little changes in your gaze tell him more than any words can tell as he gets up and gets closer, leaning towards you and cupping your face with his arms, bringing you to a kiss, a hungry one, as he can't get enough of your lips. Just how much he thought about this during your separation, laying all alone in his bedroom late at night, the image of your face doesn't leave his mind..

You almost chuckle, thinking how needy he can be and then gasp, a little bit surprised, as his arms find their way to your waist. He squeezed it a little before picking you up. He breaks a kiss, just for a few seconds, breathing heavily.

"Where is your bedroom?"

"Ooh, I thought you were so hungry that you would take me right here.." - you giggle, as your legs wrap around his hips. Thoughts about him pinning you to the table, so fast, aggressive and merciless.. You felt a tingly running to your core but Lucifer just smirks:

"Despite that I can do that.. I want to give your more proper attention today. I want to fully enjoy you, all for myself.." - his hands moved to your ass cheeks, holding them tightly as he pressed your crotch to his.

You shiver, telling him where your room is and he quickly gets inside, laying you down on the bed as he gets on top of you. He didn't even give you time to react as he kissed you again, now a more soft but still so greedy, pushing himself inside your mouth, his tongue a little bit bitter, Lucifer is probably drinking coffee before paying a visit to you.. You moan right into his mouth as his hands start exploring your body, the soft fabric of your pajama was so light, it almost feels like he's touching your naked skin. Well, it didn't take too much time before he actually got under your small top, cupping your breast, your already hard nipples between his fingers as he played with them a little. Even after so much time he still remembers all your weak spots and now uses them to tease you a little, yet still didn't touch you down here, only paying attention to your chest and trembling figure.

His lips moved further, now a demon was kissing your neck, your little noises were so precious.. He was missing them so much. And oh just how much he was missing those high pitched gasps that you always did when he suddenly bit your skin, as he did just right now. He looked prideful at the red mark, licking it and getting a little bit down, to a collarbone.

"Sh.. Sh.. don't whine too much.." - he chuckled, kissing a prominent bone before leaving a hickey - "I need to make sure every human would know that you're mine.."

You can't help but giggle softly. That's it, that's the Lucifer you always had known.. Possessive and jealous in his love, but that's why you like him - because his wild passion always hits you right into the heart, making shivers run down your spine as he keeps transmitting his inner fire by bunch of hickeys. Lines of his marks going down, to your breast now, where your lover stops for a moment. He looked up for a moment, and this manic deep gaze of his glowing red eyes.. you whimper, arching your back a little, pushing your body closer to his, making him chuckle in amusement.

"Be patient, little lady.. After all, I want to spend the whole night by your side, so we don't need to hurry, okay..?"

He helps you to take off the small top, admiring your beautiful naked breast, enjoying every small detail - the way your chest gets up and down with uneven breath, how small goosebumps covers you as fresh air of your bedroom tickles heated up skin, and, of course, your moles and birthmarks that was like a little starts on canvas of your beautiful body. Lucifer adores every part of you and your figure, never getting enough of this mesmerizing view in front of him.

"You're just like I remember.." - he whispers, leaning closer and kissing a gap between your boobs. Despite the fact that he still was so playful today, thoughts about him actually being here, with you, melted the demon's heart, and he got kinda romantic, almost worshiping your body with his hands and lips.

Licking your right areola before cupping sensitive nipples between lips, making you whimper. Your hand finds its way in Lucifer's hair, buried in black locks as slow lapping of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His other hand grabs your left breast, fingertips playing and pushes a small teat as he enjoys all the sweet sounds you make, singing so cute just for him.

It doesn't take too much time before Lucifer eventually lowered more, peppering your stomach with kisses, and then finally reaching your hips that were trembling in silk shorts. Without any words he just took it off, throwing it away just to see the cotton fabric of your panties already being soaked in your wetness.

"I can see you were waiting for it no less than me.." - a low chuckle escaped his lips, tickling your skin as his head was now between your thighs. Prolonged eye contact on your blushing face as his arms slowly get under waistband and pull it down, revealing your heated up skin inch by inch.

You bite your lip, getting more flustered - of course you wanted him no less than he wants you, yet after so much time apart you suddenly get more ashamed again, as if it was one of your first times with this playful demon. And of course it doesn't go unnoticed to him.

"Ooh? So you're nervous..? Don't worry, s/o, you know I don't bite.. Well, at least this part of your body.." - Lucifer chuckles, caressing your inner thighs as he spreads your legs a little. The view of your pulsing cunt makes his already starving mind go even crazy and he leaned closer, making first, long and slow lick. Such a bitter yet sweet taste, even the most expensive aged Demonus will never be as heady and delightful as your sinful ambrosia. And along with these soft whimpers that get more high pitched when movements of his tongue get more strong and intense.. truly majestic.

Lucifer was just a pro at making you squirm around with his mouth, playing with your folds before lapping on your clit in fast pace, than, as soon as he sees how much you start trembling and lifting your hips more, he suddenly slow down and move his tongue away, leaving your whining and sobbing. In the beginning you thought that your lover is kinda inpatient today but now it seems like he is willing to do things for a long time, making up for lost time when he was not here. He was literally eating you out, sucking on your folds, pushing his tongue deep inside, slurping all juices, enjoying your body as the most pleasant meal.

"Mm.. Luci, please…" - you moan, grasping his hair again as it's starting to be too much. Your head starts to feel dizzy as all your nerves concentrate in your core, aching for release. Knot in your tummy grow more and more, pulsing and making you tremble in anticipation.

"I didn't even use my fingers and you already like that?" - he smirks right into your pussy, licking your folds, tip of his tongue so suffocatingly close to your throbbing clit. - "Tell me, how often did you dream about this if now you're so oversensitive?"

You whine in embarrassment. Oh of course, how can you forget about all these teases, as Lucifer always loves to play with you.. Bringing you almost to the edge, sending more and more waves of goosebumps over your whole body with his movements, just too mocking you for being so needy for him..

"I.. several times every week.." - voice so weak yet you should answer, knowing damn well this demon will not continue if you're not telling him.

"How cute.. You were being so desperately needy, yet never called for me to come?"

"Well.. I thought that maybe you would be busy or something.." - you mumble under your breath, looking away.

"Oh, sweetheart.. You should know that no matter how busy I get I always would find time to spend it alone with you.." - Lucifer smiles, pressing his lips to your clit again, kissing a small bundle of nerves before sucking on it. Arms strong enough to keep you in place as you start bucking your hips again, feeling an upcoming tingling wave in your core.

All your muscles tensed up for a moment and you moan as a hot rush overflows you, burning you in bliss. Lucifer keeps moving his tongue around your clit, gladly suckin your cum as his amused eyes watch your pleasant face.. How you gasp, digging nails in sheets around you with one hand and pulling his hair with another, how you shut your eyes, full of tears, overwhelmed with such strong pushing feeling between your thighs, how you strain your vocal cord, calling his name so loud and needy.. Lucifer can enjoy this beautiful view in front of him for eternity. But he wants to push even more, wants to see the same expression on your face when you would clench around his dick, squeezing him with your walls, so tight it's hard to move, almost as if you are asking to fulfill your pussy with his cum.. Image of you getting lost in your pleasure again, as he pounds you like a wild animal doesn't leave his mind for the whole time as he gets inside your house and sees your provocative pajamas.

So Lucifer pulls away from your thighs, getting on top of you with a smug smile.

"So, darling.. Are you ready to start real fun..?"

[sheluvv-gambino]

Hellooo!! I really love your fic "temporary perfection" it's so damn sad but I love it!! 😭😭😭

Can I request like a sequel to it?

Where he meets 1610 reader who is alive and healthy? If not that's ok too!! I still love your work and you!! 💖💖💖💖

Permanent Perfection.

A/N: I don't particularly like doing part 2's to my fics just because I'm not as consistent as other creators on here but this request was too cute to pass. I hope this was what you were invisioning anon!

pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader

summary : you came to him when he was at his lowest but now that you're here he's just as happy as he was before and he refuses to let you go this time.

warnings : death/funeral, unknown illness, implied suicide i guess?

Part 1

Miles thought he had nothing left in life.

No one could've prepared Miles for the complete emptiness he felt when you left.

He was just a shell of someone he used to be.

He lost his other half.

The only reason he was still breathing was so that his mother didn't have to go through another death.

It was hard walking through the hall's knowing that anytime someone would look in his direction they would instantly start to speak about her.

During his nightime activities he got more reckless, so reckless to the point Uncle Aaron had to take the suit away from him just so he could clean up his act.

--------------

You didn't know how you got to this new place.

It looked like your New York but it wasn't. It was littered with crime.

But one thing stood out the most. It had no Spiderman...

The New York that you came from had a Spiderman, in fact the Spiderman on you earth was your boyfriend. Miles...

He died trying to save his dad. Miguel had gottten to him to him first somehow and you were left to pick up the pieces.

You grieved but now you were just a shell of someone you used to be.

You lost your other half, you felt empty.

Everything became worse when you were sucked into a portal and was left in an unusual world.

It was like the universe was pulling you to someone else and they felt so familliar...

--------------

Miles stopped dead in his tracks when he saw...

her?

He dropped the bag of groceries that he was bringing back for his mother and swiftly walked over to girl and pulled her harshly into the dark alleyway.

"Who are you?" He exclaimed, frightening the girl even more.

"Miles? You're supposed to be dead! I am so confuesd right now." You breathed out.

"Y/N?!? How are you here, you're the one thats supposed to be dead." He lets go of you and starts to breathe heavy.

"You look like my Miles but your not. I don't think I'm in my own dimension."

"What are you talking about? Dimensions? My girlfriend died eight months ago."

"Yes, so did my Miles. Long story short there are different dimensions and I was obviously brought here for a reason that I dont know."

"Okay and how do I know that you're telling the truth, you dont even have the small mole above your nose that my Y/N had."

You take your thumb and rub away the makeup that you had to cover it up.

A few minutes had passed before Miles pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

"I missed you so much, It was like my other half was missing and now I'm whole again." He whispered whilst kissing your forehead and closing your eyes.

"I know Miles, I know."

--------------

Miles had snuck you in through his window after apologising to his mom for dropping the the groceries.

"You know the Miles on my earth never had his hair in braids, he was too tender headed for that." You laughed.

"Nah, it's probably because he couldn't pull it of like I can." He said whilst pulling you closer.

You both cuddled in comfortable silence before Miles spoke up.

"You know we getting you checked out at that the doctor's first thing." He murmured breathing into your neck.

"For what?"

"I just don't want to lose you again..."

In that moment Miles knew he had everything in life and so did you.

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: Suicide (this is a serious topic, please be careful), depression, alcoholism, toxic relationship, intolerance, shy reader (this will pass someday), extremely cute Jungkook 😊 and Gureum (JK's former dog) 😫🙏

A/N: Hi again! I came back earlier than expected, but since I already have a good part of the story written, it wasn't too much work (this won't happen all the time). The themes of this chapter are difficult, so please be careful while reading. It's a short chapter because it’s still an introduction to the story. Things will start happening quickly from now on. Just know that in advance 👀

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

I read the words from my favorite book, The Notebook, and even though every time I open its pages, I’m transported to another dimension, this time it doesn’t happen. I shift uncomfortably in my bed, feeling anxious. My mind is filled with thoughts yet simultaneously empty.

After dinner tonight, I couldn’t accomplish much. I took a shower and tried to watch a documentary I was excited to start, but it failed to capture my attention and did nothing to ease my worries about my neighbor, Misuk. Like her, my father also suffered from depression. I was just a child of 11 when I remember the first time he attempted to take his own life. I was young, but the weight of caring for him, even in terms of his mental health, felt heavy. My father would lie in bed all day, and not knowing what to do, I tried to bring him some comfort: getting good grades, making him proud, being affectionate and smart, asking for nothing from him except for what was essential for my survival.

My mother was incredibly strong; she worked at a marketing company almost all day, and when she came home, she would cook and help me with my math homework. I would sometimes catch her crying while cooking or cleaning up the daily mess, but she always said she was fine and put on a smile. I also remember that my father would occasionally have bursts of happiness. For at least a day, the man he used to be would return—energetic, funny, playful. It was only after some time that I, in my innocence, realized that this was worse. It gave us hope that the hard times would pass, that it was just a difficult moment, and that we didn’t need to worry because the turbulence would eventually subside.

But it didn’t pass. It got worse. With depression, came dependency. My father refused to take his prescribed medication and drank heavily every day. He would start in the morning and continue until nightfall. I felt fortunate if he collapsed on the couch and lost consciousness. Sometimes he would become aggressive, and I would retreat to my room, practically staying there all day. That’s how I began to find solace in reading. Books transported me to another world, more colorful and beautiful. My father, inebriated, didn’t exist in any other universe but my own, and that was comforting.

My parents started to argue; my mother was exhausted from holding everything together for months. One night, she pleaded with him to return to who he used to be, or else she would kick him out. He became so furious that he destroyed my grandmother's old wardrobe, and the only reason he didn’t hurt my mother was that he was too drunk to even reach her. I remember her grabbing my arms and dragging me upstairs, as we heard the car start and speed away from the garage. We only learned hours later that my father had died because he had my mother’s emergency contact saved on his phone. He had suffered a severe accident, crashing his car into a tall concrete wall.

A week after the funeral, my mother went to church for the first time. It became her balm, her ark in the midst of that flood, and I accompanied her without questioning or hesitating. I was so young and didn’t understand much; it felt like a relief. I wasn’t sad; I was happy. Happy that my father, the one I loved so much, was finally gone. The weight of worry, of caring for him, no longer existed. Confessing this to myself, much later, was difficult, but it was the truth. I was happy he had died because, for the first time in a long while, I didn’t have to sacrifice my childhood to look after him. I only had to take care of myself, and no one else.

I think of Misuk once more and find her depression reminiscent of my father's. Aside from that, she is completely different from him. I visited her house last month, and I would never have known what had happened if it weren’t for Jungkook. A tear rolls down my face uncontrollably. My throat tightens as I taste bitterness in my mouth. I feel relief that she hasn’t been able to follow through with her plan, relief because now I understand what she’s going through, and I can finally help her. I was a child when my father died and didn’t comprehend much, but now I can do things differently. I can help her, support her, and be there for her during tough times.

I rise from my bed with newfound energy as an idea flashes in my mind. I sneak into the kitchen in the early hours, trying not to make much noise and wake my mother. I walk through the dark hallway of my house to the kitchen, searching the cupboard for an old recipe book my grandmother left for my mother and me.

My mother never liked cooking, but I do. I’ve always enjoyed making desserts, and knowing I can brighten my neighbor’s day, I decide to prepare a treat. Patbingsu, a frozen dessert with sweet red bean, takes a few hours to make, but it’s easy to follow. I begin gathering the ingredients and organizing everything, only realizing how much time has passed when a deep sleepiness overtakes me and the sun begins to rise through the window.

I glance at my phone’s clock, my eyes widening. It’s now 6 a.m. I look at the dessert, adorned with fruits in a pot I set aside, and panic when I realize that the ice, if not consumed promptly, would become terrible. I smack my forehead in disbelief at my own foolishness. Biting my lower lip, I’m at a loss for what to do. It’s very early, and my neighbors might still be asleep. On the other hand, if I don’t deliver the dessert to them, I’ll likely lose both my recipe and the hours of sleep I sacrificed to make it.

I curse myself, weighing the pros and cons of each option. I decide to peek out the window into the neighboring house, searching for any lights on or signs of movement that might indicate my neighbors are awake. Nothing happens. I huff in disappointment. I decide not to deliver my dessert to Misuk; the mistake was mine for being impulsive and not thinking things through before acting. I step away from the window, feeling disheartened and sad, when suddenly the front door of the neighboring house swings open. Jungkook appears out of nowhere, barefoot and wearing a sweatshirt that nearly covers his hands.

I smile as I watch his sleep-laden face while he stretches and rubs his eyes, still groggy from sleep. He seems to be waking up a bit, opening the door to the house again. That’s when my trance breaks. This is the perfect moment to deliver the pot of sweets to his mother. I dash forward like a madwoman, not bothering to take off my apron or put on my slippers, grabbing everything in a hurry. I nearly trip over the flowers in front of my door, but I don’t stop.

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” I shout desperately. A few seconds later, I realize it’s still morning, and I might wake everyone up, so I run even faster to his door. I use all my body and agility to get there before the door closes, thinking he didn’t hear me and that, like an idiot, I wouldn’t make it in time. But the door opens again, and he only sticks his head out, one eye closed as if the sunlight is too much for him at this hour.

A happy, proud smile spreads across my face. I refrain from jumping with joy, knowing that would be excessive and he might think I’m crazy.

“Y/N?” he asks, his voice hoarse as if he’s seeing a mirage. “Good morning, how are you?”

“Good morning,” I reply with a smile. Then I realize I must be interrupting him with all this shouting, and finally, the embarrassment washes over me. “I’m sorry, it’s morning.”

“Yes, it is,” he says, looking me up and down; my apron is crooked, and my hair is a mess. I don’t blame him; he looks awake but not entirely ready. It’s almost as if he just crawled out of bed to greet the morning sun. I must be ruining his peace.

“I’m really sorry again, it’s just that…” I trail off, glancing at the pot in my hands. “I made a little something to sweeten your mother’s day. I hope she likes it.”

“You cooked?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “What time?”

“Almost now,” I reply softly, my voice short and hesitant. “I can deliver it to her later, if you want.”

“It’s 6:30 now,” he says, as if still trying to wrap his head around things. He doesn’t seem like a morning person, judging by his demeanor. “Come in, please.”

“No!” I respond quickly, my voice rising. My eyes widen in embarrassment. “You don’t have to; I just came to drop this off for her.”

“Just come in. I just need to wash my face and brush my teeth.” He smiles for the first time, a dimple forming on his cheek, and his doe dark eyes squint. “Come on, I insist.”

“Alright,” I whisper, feeling shy. I take small steps toward the door. I realize I have to pass by him to enter the house, and before I know it, I’m inside. The house is silent, and a small white puppy scurries around my feet, recognizing my presence. I smile, bending down to his level.

“This is Gureum,” Jungkook says from behind me. I nod.

“Your mom told me she adopted him.” I pet his ear, finding it amusing how his fluffy tail wags back and forth. “He wasn’t here last night.”

“Actually, he was, but in my room. My dad is allergic, so until we can get the medication, we keep him mostly to my room.” He explains. I turn to him, nodding in agreement. “I’ll wash my face and be right back.”

“You don’t have to bother; I just want to deliver this.” I repeat, feeling awkward.

“It’s no bother. You can sit on the couch; I’ll be right back.” Before I can respond, he hurries up the stairs, as if afraid I might vanish if he takes too long.

I sit on the couch, hearing the sound of tiny paws behind me. Gureum is so adorable and affectionate, and being small, he has to lift both front paws to reach my hands for pets. I laugh when he licks my hand, tilting his head as if expecting more affection. Minutes pass until Jungkook appears again, this time wearing a tight black t-shirt and a headband that keeps his dark hair pushed back. I forget about Gureum, mesmerized. He is incredibly handsome—almost like a literary character come to life right in front of me. My cheeks flush, and my heart races. For some reason, I like him very much. Since the first time I saw him, I have this feeling.

“Now we can talk,” he smiles, pulling up his gray sweatpants. “I really needed to brush my teeth… you know.”

“Yeah,” I agree, unsure of what to say. He sits on the couch, just a few inches away from me, and that alone makes me nervous. “I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to give this to your mom, but at the same time, I didn’t want to wake her. When I saw you, I just…”

“Wanted to hand it over,” he finishes, smiling. I nod in agreement. “It’s alright. It’s really kind of you to do this. My mom has been waking up later because of her medication, so it was a good idea to talk to me.”

“Thank you,” I say sincerely. He laughs suddenly at my answer, throwing his head back. His white teeth show, and curiously, his two front ones are slightly larger than the others, giving him a cute smile. It's very funny. I want to laugh with him, even though I’m still confused about why he’s laughing.

“Why are you thanking me? You made the sweets!” He justifies his laughter, still chuckling. I grin in embarrassment, hiding my face with my hands.

“I don’t know. I guess I feel guilty for coming to talk to you at this hour.” I shrug.

“Is that the kind of person you are?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding.

“A nice person,” Jungkook clarifies, smiling at me. His eyes meet mine for a few seconds, and the nervousness I felt earlier comes back stronger. I try to smile, fiddling with my nails, feeling awkward. “Thank you for bringing this dessert. What is it?”

“Patbingsu,” I say, feeling a bit more at ease. Talking about food calms me down. “It’s made with sweet beans and fruits; it’s very healthy.”

“Can I try some? I love patbingsu,” he asks, tilting his head to the side. I nod, opening the glass pot’s lid. He reaches for a fruit, and I can’t help but notice the tattoos adorning his pale arm. I swallow hard, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

His right arm is covered in various designs that stretch down to his fingertips. A flower, a tiger and a phrase that reads “Winners Never Quit” are the only things I can distinguish quickly. I try to focus on something else, but it’s nearly impossible. He is incredibly handsome, much taller than me, exuding confidence and assurance. His scent is the same as yesterday, so good that I wish I could close my eyes to concentrate and feel more; his breath is even fresher from the toothpaste he just used. His hair pushed back draws even more attention to his smooth neck, speckled with beauty marks that, if it weren’t for genetics, I’d say were strategically placed to drive me wild. One specific mole, just below his lower lip, takes my breath away. He moans as he chews on a blueberry, and my already shallow breath nearly escapes me completely. He opens his eyes, frowning as if the fruit were the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

“It’s delicious. Really sweet,” he says, licking his lips. “You should try some.” He picks up a strawberry, dipping it in the sweet milk and sugar ice and brings it close to my mouth. I can’t refuse, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I bite into the red fruit, trying not to graze the tips of his fingers, but Jungkook seems unbothered by it and offers the whole thing without hesitation. I can almost taste his skin along with the food, the way he hands it to me without much care. I try not to choke, overwhelmed by what he’s doing to me, unable to say a word.

I swallow everything without uttering a peep. He leans back on the couch, spreading his legs, pausing for a moment to observe me. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, incapable to meet his gaze. He draws me in like some sort of supernatural force, and I can’t fathom how I’ll manage to be near him every time I see him.

“You’re so kind,” he suddenly whispers to himself. I turn to look into his eyes, trying to understand him. “Thank you so much for caring for my mom in this way. I’m at a loss for words.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do,” he insists without hesitation. “My mom needs more people like you around her. I’m glad to have you here with her.”

“Jungkook... I... Your mom is very important to me. You really don’t have to thank me. I couldn’t sleep thinking about her, and I decided to bring this because I know she’s feeling deep pain right now.” I say, feeling brave and determined. I need to tell him this. “I appreciate you confiding in me about what you told me last night. I promise I’ll do everything I can to take care of her and be there for her. Her secret is completely safe with me.”

“I know that,” he assures, smiling slightly. He bends down to give Gureum a gentle pat, who is now lying near his feet. He looks back at me, nodding. “I’ll make it up to you somehow. You can count on that.”

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ttipa @ane102

[greypetrel]

Crisp those Lines!

Or: a small collection of suggestions for a crispy, neat lineart.

SO MANY OF YOU ASKED FOR THIS (it feels absurd to say, yes), so here you go.

A premise: there's no right or wrong way of inking, and some of the following tips entirely depend on the type of inking I do. Which is neat and clean, with no blacks, and moreover: digitally. More under the cut because it's gonna be long and full of explanatory pictures. Here's an example:

SOFTWARES AND BRUSHES:

Let's address the elephant in the room: Photoshop SUCKS for inking and linework. The stabilisation of the brush there is SHIT. Good for colouring and painting and doing photobashing, but for Lineart you want it to be precise. Do yourself a favour and don't use Photoshop. I generally use Clip Studio Paint, but i have to say that the best program for it that I've tried keeps being Paint Tool SAI 2. It has few functions, it's true, and I use CSP because it has more instruments. But if you don't want to pay much, SAI is incredible as for brush rendition and stabilisation.

As for the brush: you don't need a fancy brush, anything in your software will go. What I use and what works best tho must have:

Tapered start and end.

High stabilisation (I go from 60 upward, lower it down for trees and grass or anything more natural that needs to be less neat and flowy)

Low tapering.

It must be set so that pressure controls only the dimension. The more you push on your pen, the bigger the line gets. No colour or opaciy variation!

On Clip Studio Paint, I use the G-Pen in the program. It's good as it is, but I think I did some variations as per here:

FILE DIMENSIONS:Better work larger and then resize down. Sizing files up digitally is possible, but it leads to unfocused images. I generally work on files at 600dpi (300 is fine too, but don't go any lower. Particularly if that's something you want to print later on, any printing wants a minimum of 300dpi). in roughly an A3 format (bigger dimension is 43cm). Most pictures I upload here are 6000x5000 pixel. A bigger file will give you more possibilities with brush sizes, and it'll be easier. Remember: digitally, sizing down is ok, sizing up is not something you should do.

SKETCH:

This is the suggestion I should follow but never do. Having a clean, polished sketch simplifies your life A LOT. This is because if you don't have to worry about drawing details and fixing the anatomy of your drawing during the lineart, and doing it so GOOD because it's the lineart... You'll go that much slower and your life will be more complicated (it's not impossible, my sketches usually are very rough. I am ok with it, the most I do drawing wise is during the lineart... But I'm lazy, don't do like me. A good sketch will help you out.) Compare the two sketches below:

Another note about your sketch layer: you know those memes that complains that the sketch looks good but when you hide it the lineart is shitty? That's easily solvable. When you're inking, lower the opacity of the sketch layer down, A LOT. I generally go for a 30 or 40% opacity (depending on the colour of the sketch. the yellow sketch will go around 40% because it's less visible, the purple one lower).

When you're inking, you MUST see clearly the lineart you're doing. If the sketch isn't contrasting enough, you won't see clearly what you're doing... It's like trying to sketch with a dim light, not seeing the paper clearly. See the difference:

BEFORE YOU START:

You probably have read it everywhere, but it bears repeating: warm up your hand. You're using muscles and for more than five minutes. The warmer they are, the firmer your hand is, the easier it gets controlling your lines. It also prevents you from damaging your wrist. Stretching is also great, and grippers are nice to have. Keep your hand fit!

As for warming up: I usually do some calligraphy exercises, practicing on flowy cursives. You want to practice varying the pressure of your lines in a single trait, hence why calligraphy is good. But generally, what you can do is...

PRESSURE VARIATION AND LONG LINES:

So. My main tip and trick is to vary the pressure of your lines. In the same line, and between different details. This will help making the lineart more dynamic and interesting. A note: this works for semi-realistic styles. If your goal is obtaining a Cartoon Network style: they have generally little to no variation and it works. My suggestion would be to study the kind of style and effect you want to obtain, different styles will work best with different linearts. If you're aiming at hyperrealistic painting, there's no point in spending time over a lineart, for example, I inked the same lineart, but with a brush that doesn't vary it's dimensions with pressure, and not changing the dimension of the brush.

What makes my linearts look "flowy" and "neat" is the fact that I tend to draw less lines and longer, and pay attention when I stop, to start the line where I end it. This will give the impression of one continuous, single line, and make everything more fluid. See above in the french hood: on the right, I left the line rough on purpose, you can see where I stopped and started again. On the left, where I took care of it, you can't.

Generally speaking:

Thick, dark lines communicate that the object is close to the viewer (always keep the viewer in mind!) or in shadow. Lines should be thicker on the outside of your objects, to separate two planes, and in stuff closer to you.

Thin lines are delicate, they should be used in the background, for small details (see the hair, the lips, the small wrinkles around her eyes.)

As for line continuity: in both cases, the line of her face is one single line I drew. This can be obtained with a smooth result, particularly in curved lines, by getting the brush stabilisation on higher settings (80-100): sacrifice speed for accuracy.

MORE IS MORE, WHEN IT COMES TO LEVELS:

Particularly when there are two objects intersecating, or more characters interacting… Instead of inking all on the same level, I always do one level for each object, trace the WHOLE line as if there was nothing above, and then erase where it's not shown. This is a little thing, but pays off. Always in the drawing of above, the feather and the hem of the bodice were on separate layers, and then I erased the bodice under the feather. Take advantage of being inking digitally and not traditionally!

For many characters, here's an example of a vignette of a comic page before cleaning it up and erasing. Every single character and the weapons are on separate layers

For this it's very useful knowing your recurring mistakes. For example, I tend to draw heads bigger than they should. I know I do, so generally I keep the head on its own level, and the body on another, so it's easier to modify and size down just the head without getting crazy selecting only the lines you want with the lazo.

Again, you're inking digitally. It's not easier than traditionally necessarily, take full advantage of your instrument!

OTHER TIPS AND TRICKS:

High brush stabilisation sacrifices speed for accuracy. The line will lag a little from your cursor. Get used to watching the cursor and not the line, and trust that the line will follow.

GO SLOW.

Rotate and flip the canvas. Don't ask me why, but tracing long lines towards me is always easier than not the other way around.

Use the Free Transform, Warp, Distort etc etc and the Liquify to your heart's content if you notice the lineart has something wrong. The only cheating in art is using fucking AI generators (and AI pictures are not art, sorry not sorry)

References are your friends. Study how an artist you like does the lineart. Try and imitate them, and if you can and need to post them: tag them! (don't trace and sell it as your own)

Experiment with brushes, find one that you like for the effect you'd love. You do you, there's no right or wrong way of inking.

Remember to breathe when you trace those lines! (and to drink and do pauses and stretch, you don't want a tendonitis!)

Have fun. Lineart is not evil, lineart is your friend!

I hope this essay is exhaustive enough. I'm tagging ALL THE PEOPLE that requested it (and giving each of you a muffin). @ndostairlyrium @narina-gnagno @salsedine @whimsyswastry @layalu @n7viper

If you have any questions, don't hesitate in asking!

[angel-eyes05]

bite the hand (chapter 1)

pairing: spider-woman!oc x miguel o’hara 

summary: lorena's whole world was taken away from her in the blink of an eye, after she accidentally broke a canon event. lucky for her though, she was able to find a portal watch in her dimension and used it to get out before she glitched out of existence. unfortunately though, running from dimension to dimension, she's been named as an anomaly by the spider society. now, she's constantly on the run from them, their leader in particular. when she eventually gets caught though, she's recruited onto a mission to catch another anomaly who might be from her past. to her dismay though, her partner on this mission is her very captor. will she be able to stop arguing with him for long enough to get the job done?

info: enemies to lovers, maybe a slow burn depending on chapter count, oc is 24 and miguel is 27, both oc and miguel are super sad lmao, they're also both super violent so, they also hate each other what a slay, in regards to my oc you can read her character sheet right here

warnings: there might be spoilers for atsv in this so watch the movie before reading this, emetophobia, violence, blood mention, fangs

word count: 2.5k 

notes: i'm super excited to start this series!!! i'll also be posting a copy of this on ao3 cause i wanna start sharing my work there too so i'll put the link up here when i post it. also if you see me use "you" instead of "she/her" just ignore it i probably missed it while proofreading and it's instinct lol

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The stuffy air from inside the bag her head was under nearly suffocated her before she could wake up. Her breath was hot and shoved towards her face by the bag, causing her to sweat a little. As she slowly woke up, she found herself unable to move her arms and legs, bound to the chair by her wrists and ankles. She tried to wriggle herself around, the rope bounded so tightly she could feel herself losing circulation, but it was in vain as she quickly felt a striking force against her ribs as a result. Lorena in her chair was knocked to the ground. The bag was removed from her head, exposing her to the harsh, fluorescent lights in the room.

Another kick was sent to her stomach, knocking a nasty cough out of her. All she could see right now as her eyes were still adjusting was the two feet standing in front of her face. She spat some of the blood forming in her mouth onto the freshly cleaned black shoes. She winced as her head was pulled up to face the man in front of her by her hair. His cold, dead, blue eyes shot daggers into her fiery brown irises. “You’ve turned into quite the problem, haven’t you child?” the old man spat at you, his breath stinging your eyes. “Well maybe you should be nicer to your guests,” Lorena panted out, still recovering from the two kicks. The man nodded to someone behind her and her chair was pulled up to a sitting position.

Lorena grunted as her head was yanked back by whoever was behind her. “Come on Armando, I said I would get you the money, and I am! My guy’s just taking a little longer than usual,” she nervously blurted out, seeing Armando further up in the room by a desk of torture weapons. She wasn’t going to give him the money any time soon, and he knew it. She barely had any money to buy herself food.

Lorena had been stuck on Earth-523, her safe zone, for the past week. Normally, she would be out within a day or two. But with her portal watch broken, she had no way to get out. And she had been glitching a lot recently. Glitching bad. She had asked Armando, a black market dealer she had previous history with, for parts to fix the watch. She had forgotten about how much money she owed him though, and when she failed to have it with her when she asked for the favor, she was knocked out and taken to whatever bunker she was currently in.

She had honestly gotten tired of hopping between so many worlds like this. She had been doing it for the past couple of months and it was draining her. She missed the stability of a home. Her home. Earth-2497. But she couldn’t go back now. It was physically impossible. She watched everything she knew and loved glitch out of existence while she just ran through her portal. Instead of dying a noble death alongside her people, she just ran away. Like a coward. Now she was being chased for it. That was another reason she needed her watch fixed.

Their appearances were becoming more and more frequent. People who looked just like her. She could sense her connection to them. One of them, a woman riding a motorcycle and big yellow sunglasses, said that she was. Lorena had experienced similar things to the others. Like the death of her tio. And then the death of her boyfriend. Her struggles were the same as theirs. But she wasn’t supposed to be here anymore. She explained that Lorena “broke the canon”, whatever that meant.

A man with multiple mechanical arms, almost like an octopus, had come through an orange portal and began wreaking havoc on New York City. Lorena had stopped him, but too early apparently, according to the woman. The man was supposed to kill Captain Stacy, the father of her best friend. But since he hadn’t been killed, she had accidentally ripped a hole in the space time continuum, or something, consuming and ripping apart her entire universe. She was supposed to die with it. But she hadn’t. She ran away. Now she was considered an anomaly. The woman described that most anomalies were sent back to their worlds after they were captured. But Lorena had no world to go back to.

“So what’ll you do to me then?” Lorena asked the woman.

“.....I’m not sure.”

That was enough to convince Lorena to start running. The different Spider-Men would pop up about every week or so. But the gap had been closed to around every day now. She had gotten a break this past week while her watch was broken, what she assumed to be some kind of break from the universe or something. But she knew it was only a matter of time until they found her again. Until he found her again.

Lorena had only been chased by him twice before. But both of those times, she had only escaped by a narrow margin. He looked significantly different from the other variants, sporting a mainly blue suit with a weird red symbol in the middle that warped around to his back. He was tall also. Really tall, with huge, broad shoulders. Lorena couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like under his mask, having not seen his face before. But no matter how much she would probably ask him out if they met under different circumstances, Lorena was terrified of him. She had left both chase sequences with him with enormous gashes on her from his sharp talons. She honestly wondered if he was actually human.

She was brought back to reality when she saw Armando walking back from the table. In his hand was a metal rod, the end of it a scorching orange. Lorena scrambled around in her seat, her head still yanked back. Fuck this is bad, she thought to herself. An idea suddenly snapped into her head.

She rarely used them, as they normally ended up harming her too in the end, but she would rather be burned by her own acid webs once than by this hot plate repeatedly. She repositioned her wrists, pointing one of them out. She braced for the pain. Suddenly, four strings of a radioactive green acid web shot out of her wrist, breaking the rope around her hands and wrapping around the thigh of the man holding back her head. He screamed out in pain as the acid melted through his leg. With him and Armando distracted, Lorena quickly broke out of her ankle restraints, ripped the hot branding stick out of Armando’s hands, and pushed it deep into his face. He let out an inhuman scream and quickly passed out from the pain. She then used the stick and smacked the metal against his partner’s head, knocking him out too.

Lorena stood to catch her breath for a second, bracing her side with her right arm from the pain in her ribs. She hoped they were just bruised, and not cracked. She then took off the gloves from her suit to examine the fresh acid burns on her left wrist. She had developed a bit of resistance from the pain, having had to use them so much recently since she’s been without web fluid for months now, but it still stung a bit and left quite a mark on her skin.

She stripped Armando of his long sleeve t-shirt and sweatpants to cover up her suit, and shoved her mask into the pockets of the pants, before walking outside the door into the night.

She was almost immediately soaked to the touch as the rain poured down on the city. The large t-shirt, absorbing all the water falling onto Lorena, only put extra weight onto her damaged ribs. She struggled to walk through the street as she continued to cough blood into her hand. Fuck, this was bad. Maybe her injury was worse than she thought.

Things only got worse when she suddenly felt her heartbeat speed up. Goosebumps flooded over her body and she was nearly paralyzed from fear. Her spider-sense was kicking in. Jesus, what is it now. She looked into the alleyway next to her to see if that's where the source of her fear was coming from. Her suspicions were confirmed correct when she saw an orange glow interrupt the darkness in the back of the alley, and a red spike ripping through it. She nearly left her heart behind as she immediately started to bolt down the sidewalk.

Great, just my fucking luck, she thought to herself as she ran. The one day I’m in horrible shape to fight is the one day he shows up to get me. Lorena didn’t need to look behind her to know the man was already bounding after her. She didn’t have any web fluid, and her acid webs would cut through the poles, so she was given the disadvantage on the ground this time. She threw her mask on her face from her pocket, that way so in case she did get caught, she could at least keep the dignity of her identity to herself. Her running was desperate and sloppy, her red hair slipping out from the back of her mask and almost slipping in a puddle when she turned a sharp corner.

She could feel her heart rising into her chest and her ribs cried out to her in pain, begging her to just stop and accept her fate. But she wouldn’t go down like this. She couldn’t. She needed to keep going, no matter how much blood she was coughing up while running. She could hear his feet splashing in the puddles behind her as she made her getaway. He was getting closer. She wasn’t fast enough. She needed to do something if she wasn’t going to get caught. And fast.

Desperate for a way out, she ripped her right glove off of her hand and jumped around to shoot an acid web at her chaser. The split second she could see him while turned around frightened her beyond belief. The man was chasing her on all fours, like some kind of wild dog. His claws dug deep into the concrete floor for extra traction from the rain. Yeah, there’s no way this guy was human. She shot the web out of her wrist, burning her more than usual, and aimed for his face. If she was going to shoot for him now, she needed to try to go for the kill. Before the web was even fully out of her hand, she was back facing forward and running. Fuck, did that mess up my aim? She didn’t have time to think about that now. She didn’t even look back to check. She just kept running.

The low scream from him at least meant that she hit him, which was enough for her right now. Her high came crashing down though when she turned another corner. Suddenly, a shattering agony rattled throughout her body as she became a jumble of neon colored parallelograms, all of her atoms splitting apart in a split second. She quickly fell to the floor, shaking in pain. But she still had to fight. Lorena used her arms to crawl into an alleyway into the darkness. If she couldn’t outrun him, she could at least try to hide. She lowered her head to the ground though when she heard puddles lightly splashing behind her. Footsteps. She didn’t hit him hard enough. It was all in vain.

She could hear his pants above her, as she turned her head around to see him standing right above her body, like he was admiring his achievement or something. She still tried to crawl away though. She didn’t matter if it made her look stupid. She still had to try.

Lorena stopped though when she felt him web her hand to the ground though, too tired to keep going. The bright red, glowing web illuminated the darkness of the alley. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him reaching his massive hand down to her. He roughly ripped her mask off her face, exposing her to the outside world. She began to cough again, so much this time, that she ended up losing her limited breakfast. The puke sits next to the man's feet, more blood than partially digested food. He stared at her in disgust. Then he finally speaks. The first time he has to her ever.

“This is the one who’s been causing us so much trouble?” he said, as if it was supposed to be more of a genuine question than an insult. His voice was beautiful. A rich, low, dark tone that rolled off of his tongue smoothly. She could see a small avatar pop up next to his shoulder, illuminated in a yellow aura. “Yup, this is her. Lorena Reyes, Spider-Woman from Earth-2497,” the woman avatar responded. “Huh,” he said, crouching down next to her head. “Thought she'd put up more of a fight.” That one was an insult. “Maybe you just caught me on a bad day,” she croaked out. He looked at the puke next to her. “I can see that.” Lorena started to glitch again, letting out sparse pants once her atoms stopped separately. The man sighed. “Let's just get this over with.”

What he did next took Lorena by surprise. He flung his strong leg over to the opposite side of her body and lifted his mask up to just over his nose, still concealing his eyes from her view. Lorena stared at him confused, too tired and in pain to do anything right now. What she could see from his face was gorgeous. His perfect nose, the slight pout in his plump lips, and his rich skin tone. He placed his hands on her head, one holding the nape of her neck, and the other pushing her head back.

Then they came out. His fangs. A slight fear washed over her body when she saw them. Was this vampire man about to kill her? Then he sunk them into the skin of her neck. She flinched slightly. What on earth was he doing? More fear entered her when she found she was quickly losing feeling in her feet. It slowly moved up her body. Then her legs. Then her hands. Then her arms. Her nerves being attacked by some kind of paralytic venom. It was most likely coming from his fangs. She felt slightly lucky that she still had feeling in her neck though, especially when he removed his fangs from her neck, and used his textured tongue to clean up the blood. It was warm and comforting to her. Then her neck lost its feeling. Lorena was quickly grateful for the venom when she found herself glitching again, but not feeling any pain from it.

She could feel herself passing out next. As consciousness left her body, the last thing she saw was the man lifting up from her neck and wiping her blood off from his mouth.

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: thanks for making it this far!!! lmk if you want to be on the tag list for future parts

[roguelov]

dream & hob surprising y/n with a nice bath after she comes to the dreaming after a super stressful day or week

taking a bath with these two would solve all of my problems, I believe🥺

It would be the cure to all my problems

You let out a heavy groan as you rolled over in bed. A shared bed, one that only you occupied. You cracked open your eyes to see the stone walls and spires of Dream’s room. You glanced up to the ceiling seeing a shifting nebula.

The Dreaming.

You had fallen into the embrace of the Dreaming. It was usually nice, however you wanted to do nothing. Your body still ached from work. Odd, how some pains can travel to different dimensions. It seemed as if it has sunk its claws into you unwilling to release your torment.

“Hi, love.” A tender voice called out. You lifted your head seeing Hob enter the bedroom followed by Dream. “Dream here said you just arrived.”

Your head flopped back down into the pillows. “Yup,” you mumbled.

The two men instantly clocked your off behavior, far more grumpy than usual. Hob strolled up to the bed. He reached down, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Not feeling well?”

You sighed, “Just … really tired … and a bit achy from work.”

Hob frowned, but then quickly flipped it around. “Well we can’t have that now can we? Suggestions?”

His question was directed at Dream. Dream hummed as he walked forward. “You said you were exhausted, yes?”

“Yeah,” you muttered.

Dream offered a small smile. “How about something relaxing? Perhaps, a bath?”

You perked up a bit. “A bath?”

“Yes, if that is what you want.”

A lazy smile curled over your lips as your eyes softened. “A bath sounds wonderful.”

The pairs’ hearts melted. They quickly left to prepare it, but what felt like seconds, Dream was at your side. He gently helped you up onto your feet then guided you into the bathroom. You were greeted with a sweet pleasant aroma. You hummed, and tension already started to lift off your shoulders.

“Are you planning on standing around or joining me?” Hob asked with a charming smile.

Your eyes fell to him in the expansive tub. You chuckled to yourself before stripping out of your clothes. You dipped in and let out a deep groan. God, your muscle felt tight. Hob slid in behind you and began to massage your shoulders. You couldn’t help the noises from falling from your lips.

Dream stepped up in front of you. “May I wash your hair?”

“Please,” you hummed as your eyes fluttered close.

Dream smiled as he cupped some water. Lifting it into the air, it retained a perfect circular shape. He carefully laid it on top of your head, wetting your hair and careful to not get any water in your face. Shampoo appeared in his hand. Gathering up some shampoo, he immediately went to work.

Heavenly. This was heaven.

These two men worked every knot out of your system, while pouring their love into your skin. Their lips occasionally planted kisses along your clean skin only furthering your bliss. After a few minutes, you were snuggle between the two of them now just soaking in the tub.

“Better?” Dream whispered.

“Very much, thank you,” you hummed leaning your head on Dream’s shoulder.

“Always happy to help, love,” Hob smiled then kissed your shoulder.

You reached over grabbing Hob’s hand giving it a loving squeeze. “Can … can we just stay here for a bit?”

“Of course,” Dream answered softly.

“Whatever you want.” Hob added.

[hapfish]

Hey! I'm making a F!Leo cosplay and I was wondering if you have any advice for how to do the shell? The plastron, specifically. Yours was amazing! Ty xx

Yeah of course!!! Luckily the rise plastrons are very geometric so its pretty easy to make a pattern from it! I dont have pictures of early steps so pls bear with me <3 info n pictures below the cut

First thing i did was make a pattern of my torso with plastic wrap and tape so i could see the curve of my stomach and chest. Cant say this helped a TON, but i cant imagine things in my head, so it helped me conceptualize the size and dimensions i would need the front panels to be to cover my torso.

Next i started sketching small patterns for what the cut outs may look like. DEFINITELY make a paper pattern, this took a lot of trial and error and you dont want to waste too much foam. I cannot for the life of me find my paper patterns unfortunately, but hopefully you can see part of where im coming from with the detailed pictures of the plastron!! I made patters for 1/2 of the plastron, and flipped the patters over to make the other half mirrored and symetrical.

Now the cutting. I used .7mm foam (i think?? I got it from micheals. Joann fabrics has some but only small sheets. If you want less seams you should get the bigger ones, or buy massive sheets online. EVA foam isnt too hard to find, but make sure your density and width is appropriate for what youre making. When actually cutting the pieces out, some cuts will be flat while others may work best at an angle. I used mostly 90* and 45* angles to make clean edges and corners.

Bear with me bc the pictures in this next part are kinda uglie </3 ill explain why later.

For matching the curve of the body, i used a fresh blade and made shallow triangle cuts on the backside of the foam as can be seen here:

It would have worked better if the chest pieces were also vurved by i was on a time crunch and didnt have the time to make a 3rd or fourth plastron (yes this was a second fully completed attempt orz). Im also a bigger dude so it may be easier if your torso is smaller. I also had the benefit of making my pants from scratch (using a demon slayer uniform pattern that i altered) so i made the waistband big enough to tuck the shell into, which helped with keeping it curved around my body.

(This but only applies to future leo and i did post gluing the pieces together, but for his Top Surgery Scars™️ i cut into the chest at a 45*angle, then glued those pieces back onto the back side to seal the cut)

For gluing, i tried a whole lot of types but jothing worked as well as cement glue. It is toxic tho so make sure you do it outside or with good ventilation, and wear gloves/a mask. I did two layers on each edge then stuck the edges together, 3 if i noticed the foam absorbing it to much. Make sure you take the gluing slow and really put pressure on the pieces to lock them together. Follow the instructions and youll do fine.

For painting, i did 2 layers of modge podge, 1-2 priming layers (depends on if foam is white or black to start), and then whatever layers you need for a smooth coat of color. I topped it off with modgepodge again to seal it, but that may not have been the best idea for the following reasons....

EW YUCK. WHY IT LOOK LIKE THAT.

Well. It didnt always. Turns out when youre wearing approx 3 laters in the summer then cover your body with insulating foam, the heat and moisture makes the modgepodge MELT. and like i said before, this bottom portion was tucked into my pants so it did not breathe. I have yet to even try to find a solution but just keep it in mind when making your cosplay (and if you find a solution PLEASE LET ME KNOW! My one idea was tryna find a sealant that wont melt (obv) but idk what that would be)

And FINALLY. how to secure it to the body suit!! I used snaps!! So easy and nice (besides the melting issue but thats a different thing entirely.) They never came off or gave me problems (minus the melting) and made the shells easy to transfer/travel with and put on.

(Heres a pic of them on the suit sewn in by hand, and above you can see them on the shell itself.)

All in all, The plastron was so so hard and im honestly still not happy with it, planning to remake it before i wear him again. Please show me your cosplay when you finish it, id love to see!! Please lemme know if you have any other questions!! 🐢💙

[neversatisfiedwithlife]

top 5 marina moments and why?

Oh my gosh I'm so honored to have this in my inbox.

Top moment has to be after andrea death when maya says something along the lines of "give it to me and when you're strong enough you can have it back"(I don't have it word for word memorized) but when carina is feeling guilt amongst all the other devastating emotions and maya is just fully there for carina. This entire plot takes me to another dimension.(the scene at the firehouse "scream" and when maya comes home to find carina finally asleep in bed ties in as well).

The scene in carina's hotel after maya gives her the undercooked lasagna. The sentiment, the way maya runs an errand(to see her wife) while she's supposed to be working(the job does not mean more to her than her wife). Carina being upset and pouting and the way maya waits for carina to allow her in. Just I want to dissect that scene everytime I watch it. It makes me crazy.

The marriage proposal. Idk just the way carina says "marry me" it's practically engraved in my mind.(I just love the way both of them end up doing the things they never imagined/feared most because of the way they were brought up and their parents.)

"I'm the truck" absolutely gets me everytime. Because at first carina is just confused and kind of light but when she notices that maya is having a moment, a breakdown, she switches up quickly. Instantly concerned and the way she cradles maya.("you're having a panic attack" comes very close also. Because you can see carina kinda almost say the wrong thing, I think she almost says "you need to calm down" or "calm down" something along those lines of things that are not necessarily helpful in that situation. But then she course corrects. Plus when she says "no eyes forward only on me" sobbing. Obliterated.)

So many scenes running through my head but personally I do think the scene after they deliver Pam's baby, when they're at the station. Again the way they shift through emotions, maya gives her this look and carina instantly gets serious and the conversation is serious and honest.(this scene is very much maya and carina airing out their dirty laundry in a way. carina comes clean about pam and maya talks about the dixon stuff some more) "They mirror back the best version of you"

Honorable mentions to the first time carina brings lasagna to maya at the station. I just love the tension and the way they work through that scene(when maya stops carina at the door THEN she opens it because she understands if carina wants to leave, she did just push her away. And the bar scene in s6(carina rambling about kids and maya just in love with her wife and carina has to course correct because now she's rambling and they just started working on growing back together. The way carina affectionately talks about maya and THE NOSE. Then when they're talking to the bride.) and the bar scene in s7(when maya is rambling about the crows, the way carina is amused and confused and concerned because where is maya going with all this, and carina's reassurance. "Already prioritizing our future kid")

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (17)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for chapter: oof! with bonus traumatic flashbacks to an event mentioned in chapter 2. descriptions of emotional dissociation, i think? A/N: i am very nervous pls be nice to me or i will perish

Word Count: 4.7k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Miguel’s mind races, trying to catch up to yours, before he speaks.

“Of course.”

You can’t—won’t—look at him, You gesture vaguely with your hand. “Can we…?”

You want to move to the living room. Okay. He nods, turning and walking back into the living room. He watches you follow, stopping where he had just stood at the opening of the hallway. You’re still not looking at him, mind somewhere far away.

He says your name, softly, hands tense at his sides. He has to focus to keep his finger-tip talons in the pads of his fingers from coming out just from sheer tension. You still don’t look at him as you stand and toy with the hem of your loose shirt—you’re well healed now, but it’s still more comfortable on your sometimes itchy scars.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, straight to the point. You move around him to the couch, sitting shakily, and he follows. “Hey,” he says softly, catching your attention again. You finally look at him, brows creased and nervous. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m assuming you know about dimension-209,” you say.

Miguel is as still as a statue. “I do.”

“Does… does that not–”

Images flash through his head. Another version of you, falling from a building. Another version of him, reaching, missing—

“You’re safe,” Miguel says, leaning towards you. “I’m not– They’re different from us. I’m not going to put you in danger like that.”

You finally look at him, blinking in blank confusion. “Miguel,” you almost laugh, but it’s too breathless, too tight and strained. “I’m not worried about that. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

He feels the confusion spread across his face, flexes and clenches a hand in his lap but continues to lean into your space.“Then, wh–”  His lips part slightly in surprise. “Oh.” Of course you know.

“Does it not… Do you ever think about it? That we were married in 209? And that we… that we’re–”

His heart skips a beat, his stomach feels like it’s trying to invade his ribcage. Of course he thinks about that. He’s seen the videos, footage from the other Miguel’s world of your lives before the accident. But–

“Don’t,” he whispers. You can’t broach this topic, if you do then he has to admit to being a hypocrite, to being selfish, to risking an entire world just to spend time with you. Because he knows better than to do this again—

“Miguel, what even is this?” The words spill out of you, rushed and desperate. “You have a toothbrush here–”

His face is pleading, begging you not to start this conversation.

“–you have pajamas here. You make me breakfast, and dinner, and clean my apartment, and take care of my injuries. You…” you swallow, and he knows you have the same lump in your throat that he does. “Miguel… you hold me like—”

“Don’t,” he says again, voice nearly cracking. “If you– if I–”

You bite the words back and swallow them down with the returning lump, looking up at him. He stares back at you, looking just as desperate and pained as he feels. His hands itch to reach out to you, to take away this conversation, to make everything okay.

“I’m not trying to…” you stop, not sure how to finish the sentence. “I’m not trying to be difficult,” you settle on.

“You’re not difficult,” he says, willing you to understand how much he means it.

“I just…” you can't tear your eyes from him, but you keep yourself from moving closer. “We’ve never talked about any of this. What any of this is. And…”

“If we talk about it,” he says, voice quiet but firm. “Then everything changes.”

“Why is that bad?” you press. “What if…” you swallow again, glancing away and then forcing yourself to look him in the eyes again. “What if I want it to change?”

Miguel’s lips open, and then press tightly together. “The difference is that they were from the same dimension.”

He can see it, behind your eyes and in the way your lips part softly, the confusion leaving your expression and replacing it with realization.

“How is talking about it any worse than what this already is, then?”

“You know why we can’t.”

“What, canon?” your eyes flit back and forth between his, desperate. “It hasn’t broken yet. Nearly all my events have already happened. It's been months of this, and everything is fine.”

Miguel forgets how to breathe for a long, agonizing second. In his head all he can see is Gabriella in his arms, the world around them flickering out of existence—

“You haven’t seen what can happen. It destroys everything.”

“Then why hasn’t anything broken yet?”

Miguel stares. You stare back, hands tight in your lap even as you turn on the couch to face him more directly. “You don’t understand,” he whispers, voice nearly cracking.

“Then explain it to me. Because– because I know, and I care about what we’re doing, protecting canon and everything, I care about my world. I have friends here, and I care about the people. I'm not trying to be selfish, but… how is any of what we’re doing fair to either of us?”

His eyes flick down to your lips against his will. Your breath catches.

“If I misunderstood,” you whisper, eyes averted, and he steps closer. “If I’m wrong, and you don’t feel the same, then I’ll drop it. We can… we can go our separate ways, and…”

His fingers touch your cheek and you close your eyes. “Please look at me.” You do, opening your eyes and tilting your head back to look up at him. “That’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheekbone. “You have no idea how difficult this is.”

“Does it have to be?” you whisper.

Miguel closes his eyes. Somehow you’ve inched closer, and when he breathes in all he can smell is you. Your natural scent, your soap, your hair conditioner. He can even smell the clean scent of the lotion you must have put on your healing scars before dinner, the one he brought you after he realized he couldn’t stand to be in his own home by himself any longer.

He pulls away, hand dropping from your face.

And that’s it. He’s made his decision. He can’t bear to look at you, already feeling sick from how badly he wishes this wasn’t the right thing to do.

“I should go.”

It’s like the floor is falling out from under his feet, like the couch he’s on is made of sand. The apartment is dead silent, not even the sound of your breath audible through the rushing in his ears. He stands, steps away from the couch.

“There’s no—I shouldn't have allowed it to get to this point.” The portal opens behind him, and he still can’t bring himself to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

Then he steps through, and he’s gone.

Cobarde, he thinks to himself. Coward.

You barely remember how to breathe once the portal closes, stunned and staring at empty air.

You shouldn't have said anything. Fuck! You shouldn’t have—

Your hands shake in your lap, and you clench your fists to steady them. Breathe. Breathe, come on—

You finally gasp, pulling in air. It’s too bright, the lamp in the corner is too direct on your eyes. You cover your face, breathing into the shelter of your cupped hands. You shouldn’t have said anything.

“Fuck,” you say, but it doesn’t feel like you. It feels like someone else is speaking, reacting to what just happened for you. You turn and let yourself fall face first into the couch cushions, breathing in—

It smells like him. The whole cushion smells like him and you cry into it, pressing salt into the soft fabric.

You shouldn’t have said anything.

At first you cry. A lot. You call out of work, your hoarse throat convincing enough for Ellison to give you a reasonable extension. You sleep odd hours, restless and drained and your bed suddenly far too big and your couch too closely connected to rejection in that complicated wounded animal part of your mind. One night you take all your bedding and pile it on the floor just to try something, anything, different in hopes of sleep. It works, and you only wake once in the middle of the night from a rapidly fading dream. 

When you wake on the floor the next morning it's somehow been almost a week, much to your chagrin. Your head aches from the previous day’s crying, but you force yourself to rise from the floor and shuffle from your room, rubbing crust from your eyes as you yawn and go to the kitchen for a glass of water to ease the distant throbbing in your skull.

You shouldn't have said anything.

You sigh, eyes closed tight at the thought. When you open them again, they land on the stove clock: 7:45 A.M. Early. You groan, a new roulette of memories jumping to the forefront of Karen, and even Foggy and Matt, checking in on you. Voicemails and texts unanswered and ignored, ending with just one yesterday from Matt you have yet to listen to.

Enough is enough, you decide. You might still be slightly nauseous with roiling emotion, but it's time to get up and stop ignoring the people who do want to see you. You start with a shower, dressing comfortably but presentable enough to leave the apartment. You leave the pile of bedding on the floor under the window, stepping over the hill to get your phone off the charger.

On the bedside table is the watch from Miguel, left dark for the last ten days. You shut it away in the bedside drawer, leaving it behind when you leave the apartment and tap on one of Karen’s missed calls to ring her back as you lock up.

“Oh my god, hi!” Karen says, picking up before the third ring has truly even started. “How are you feeling? Ellison said you’ve been sick, and you haven’t answered any calls or texts so we got worried–”

“Still a little rough,” you say. “But better. I’m getting out to the cafe by my place now, but I was wondering if you have time for lunch later?”

“Yeah– yeah I can swing lunch.”

Plans are quickly made—Karen has an interview to get to—and you step a little lighter the last half block to the coffee shop. The fresh air and the people around you feel about a thousand miles away, and the light a bit too bright, but you can feel the way your body responds positively to movement, to the fall sunshine, the crisp fall air. There are more yellow leaves on the trees than when you were last out in the morning, walking to breakfast with M—

“‘Scuse me,” a tense man mumbles, stepping around your suddenly slowed steps.

“Sorry,” you mumble back, and he’s already past you. You inhale, chill morning air grounding you slightly back into your body, and put your focus on moving forward.

The drink you get is awful. It doesn’t taste bad, exactly, but the way the warmth spreads down through your throat and out in nebulous branches through your chest are in painful contradiction to your lasting mood. It feels like it's trying to be comforting, in a strange and shallow sort of way, like an acquaintance trying to force emotional closeness. You carry the full cup all the way home. It sits on your kitchen counter, waiting until after your frenzy of cleaning and laundry to be picked back up again, only finished once it’s gone cold enough for your increasingly sullen mood.

You leave your sheets on the floor when you leave again to meet Karen for lunch, hoping her presence and conversation will help. At the very least, you hope to tell her some of what’s been going on. You need to talk to someone, and you don’t dare to reach out to any of the other Spider-People about this.

You take the subway into Manhattan—the sour, sullen mood from the morning begins to fade back into the morning’s tiredness and that strange, exhausted, uncomfortable, distant underwater feeling away from reality the longer you sit on the L, and the bustle as you switch to the E seems to wake you up. The walk helps, the long flat blocks from your stop to the Nelson & Murdock office taking you further out of your head in a much more pleasant way. Finally, you reach the office, climb the stairs, and knock on the door before entering.

It’s surprisingly quiet.

“I’ll be right with you!” you hear Matt call from his small office to the left.

“Hey Matt,” you greet. “It’s just me.”

Matt says your name, appearing in his doorway. “How are you? Karen said you’ve been sick, and…”

You smile, then wrinkle your nose and immediately drop it, grateful that he couldn’t see what felt much more like a sour grimace. “I’m alright. Uh… some personal stuff came up,” you say, unable to help the way you look away awkwardly. “Is Karen around? We were going to get lunch.”

Now it’s Matt’s turn to grimace, though his is apologetic. “Karen and Foggy left to chase a lead in our case. Did she not leave you a message, or…?”

You pull your phone out of your pocket and sure enough, there it is. An earnest and apologetic text from Karen, offering to buy lunch next time to make up for canceling on you.

You sigh, smiling embarrassedly. “No, she messaged. I guess I just didn’t feel my phone go off in my pocket.”

Matt smiles sympathetically.

You stand there awkwardly as you consider what to—

“I haven’t had my lunch break yet,” Matt begins, interrupting your sluggish thoughts. “Now’s as good a time as any. There’s a good sandwich spot the next street over, if you don’t mind a change of plans.”

Relief relaxes your awkward stance. “That sounds great,” you smile, this time with far less grimacing. “I could definitely go for a sandwich.”

“Let me get my coat,” he says.

You’ve never spent time with just Matt before, and though you feel a bit awkward making friendly casual conversation in your current mood, the walk to the shop and then back to the office to eat ends up being rather nice. He invites you to eat in his office while the others are out, and you agree.

While Foggy’s office, which you had only gotten a brief look at once, is dancing the contradictory line between organized clutter, Matt’s space is minimalist and tidy. It makes sense, you suppose, to have everything tidy and in its perfect place if you can only know where something is by memory and touch.

Matt tucks away a small stack of braille printed pages into a folder and sets them aside in the top of his desk drawer to make room for the sandwiches you carry. You set his sandwich down in front of him, sitting down in the guest chair opposite to unwrap yours.

“Your office is so clean,” you comment, watching as he unwraps his own.

“Is it?” he replies, a smile pulling at one side of his mouth.

“Mhm,” you affirm, lifting your sandwich. “It’s nice. Foggy’s was a shitshow last time I saw it.”

Matt laughs, and you smile before taking a bite of your food.

You both eat your first few bites in comfortable half-silence, before Matt breaks it.

“So,” he says, wiping a hand on a napkin. “You said personal stuff came up. Is everything okay?”

Your stomach drops, your eyebrows furrow in a frown down at your food. Your heart feels tense, uncomfortable, and your stomach both too full and ravenous as if it has not one but two minds of its own. What do you say? You aren’t all that close with Matt, and—

“Do you need help?” he asks quietly, both gentle and serious.

You shake your head, realizing your silence had become just this side of too long. “No,” you say after swallowing the small lump in your throat. “No, it’s okay. Just uh… complicated.”

Matt is silent for a long moment of his own. Though his tinted glasses seem to be pointed, gazeless, at your neck, you have the distinct feeling of being stared at.

“Alright,” he finally says. “But if you need anything, ever, and there’s anything I can do… I know you’re closest with Karen, but—” he shrugs.

You smile, touched. “Thank you, Matt.”

He nods, and you continue on eating together. When you finish, you take all the trash (“No, it’s the least I can do, you have work to do.”) and head out into the bright and overcast afternoon.

Hell’s Kitchen isn’t all that far from the park, and you could use the exercise, so you walk the short fifteen minutes to sit at the pond. The trees here are lush, full of green leaves rapidly overtaken by yellow and even a spark of red here and there. The air here is just a bit fresher, the trees productive even in the middle of the city. You find a place to sit, watching the ducks and people coming and going for who knows how long. Families with young kids feed the ducks, old couples shuffling along arm in arm in dramatically thick coats to protect their frail bodies from the early fall chill. You text Karen and reschedule for lunch the next day, and you stay there until the sun is well below the city skyline.

Then you put on the mask.

It’s a normal night, as far as crime goes. Your body cuts through the chill early autumn air like a fish through water, swinging over the lanes of New York traffic. It’s business as usual: scoop people out of the path of reckless drivers, help someone cross the street, give a tourist some directions and maybe take a selfie. There’s some pickpockets of course, some attempted muggings and robberies, etc. You might be a little rougher with some of them than usual, but there’s no real damage. You blow where the metaphorical wind takes you, a chaotic path traced East, then South, then back North and Westward across the city, finally coming to a stop on a flat rooftop overlooking the Hudson River.

The air is cooler here—though the smell is far from fresh, a breeze carries cool air from the water inland. You take a moment to bathe in the quiet, taking in the lights across the river as they sparkle in the blackness of the water, and bask in the relative peace of Hell’s Kitchen at this time of night.

The moment doesn’t last long.

In the alley to your right you hear a thud and the clang of something hitting an empty dumpster. Spidey senses zing through your head and you silently dart over to investigate the alley from above. When you peer over the edge, a familiar costume greets you from the shadows.

It’s Daredevil again.

You glance to each end of the alley before jumping down in front of him.

He’s in rough shape, one hand pressed to his side and leaning on the metal dumpster. He startles at your landing, raising his fists to protect an already bloody face and wincing before realizing it’s just you. The fight visibly leaves his body.

“Spider,” he greets, breathless.

“Daredevil,” you return in kind, scanning over him. “You’re hurt.”

He waves you off, his casual gesture in contrast with the way he leans heavily on the dumpster for support, his hand returned to press on his side. “Just a pulled stitch or two,” he says. “They’re mostly healed, it’s not bad–”

“What the hell are you doing out here with stitches?” you scold, moving to help. You pull his hand off his side and sure enough, there’s the faint smell of blood under the somewhat leather and salt scent of his suit.

“My job,” he grimaces.

You press his hand back over the site, adding a portion of your own strength to compress it. He huffs, a puff of air released—whether it’s in surprise or pain, you’re not sure. Probably both

“Can I help you get somewhere?” you ask, and he tenses.

There’s the sound of heels on pavement at the end of the alley. He tenses under your hands, and you whip your head around—

“Ma– Mr. Daredevil,” Karen says in surprise. “Spider?”

“Miss Page,” Daredevil says through mildly gritted teeth.

You look back between them. “You’ve met.”

“Miss Page… sometimes brings my discoveries to the press.”

Oh, you know. You were there when she first received the official assignment at the paper as vigilante liaison, you were there when they added you to the list of subjects for her to interview, and you were her unfortunate sounding board for her new City Spider column.

Shit. You are not in the mood for this right now.

Karen’s keen eyes are zeroed in on the two of you, standing in the alleyway. “Is he alright? What happened?”

“I’ll be fine,” Daredevil grunts, trying to escape your help. Your strength stops him. “It was an… unfortunate encounter with some gun smugglers at the docks.”

“You were shot?” she gasps and rushes into the alley to join the two of you, all hesitance gone.

“No,” you shake your head. “He pulled stitches. Two, if I had to guess, based on...” you gesture vaguely. “It’s not bleeding through his suit.”

“Jesus Christ,” Karen whispers, taking Daredevil’s other side and leading the three of you to shuffle towards a main street. “What were you thinking?”

“That I needed to do my job.”

“Next time just ring me up and I’ll handle it,” you say. “Get a Spider Signal, or something.”

Karen smiles at your joke, shooting you a sidelong glance.

You get Daredevil within two meters, maybe five feet, of the end of the alleyway before he stops your little trio to lean heavily against the wall.

“Thank you for the help, Spider, but I can get home myself from here.”

You share a glance with Karen, hoping she can feel the doubt in your expression.

“I’ve got it,” she says, looking at Daredevil, then at you. “But… Spider, while I’ve got you here–”

“You know where he lives?”

She shrugs, Daredevil huffs. “Can we–”

Karen continues on, unfazed by your interruptions and determined to not let this opportunity slip through her fingers. “I’ve worked with vigilantes for a while now, and I think—I have this column, and I think the city could really benefit from—”

You shake your head, hands out and waving. “Woah, woah–”

Daredevil chuckles, then winces.

“Shouldn’t we focus on our bleeding friend here?” you gesture at him.

He waves you off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding from your stitches-!” You sigh, exasperated. “Seriously, am I the only one here who takes injuries seriously? You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t get infected!”

“You’ve been injured before?” Karen cuts in.

“Well, sure, plenty of times. Road burn in that car chase, that time I twisted my ankle in third grade, that time the Venom anomal—” you stop counting on your fingers and cut yourself off, narrowing your eyes at her. “This is off the record.”

Karen nods. “Sure. But–”

There’s a bang, and a scream a few blocks away. Daredevil tries to push off the wall, and you whip your head around in the direction of the sound.

“Go,” Karen says. “But seriously, think about it. You can leave a message at the office of Nelson & Murdock–”

“I’ll think about it,” you say, and you’re gone.

You reach the scene and find a crying woman at the barrel end of a gun. Holding it is a man, one who–

“A mugging,” you whisper, but you know he can still hear you. “I was seconds too late. Bullet wound. She bled out.”

It all comes crashing back. A man escaping seconds after shooting a woman, maybe in her thirties, in the stomach. Her shaking, you trying to compress the wound but the blood just kept coming and then it was soaking through your suit and—

It’s the same man.

You don’t think, you just move. The gun goes off right as it’s yanked out of his grip at the end of your web, flung against the adjacent brick wall. A sharp scream. You drop into a Hell’s Kitchen alley for the second time that night, catching the man’s ankle at the end of a second web, pulling back hard so he falls on his face in his attempt to turn and run.

“Oh my god–” the woman hyperventilates behind you, but you’re not letting this man get away a second time. You pin him to the ground, web his hands and ankles and mouth and secure him to the ground.

“You killed her,” you hiss, shoving at his shoulders from your position above him. “It’s over. You’re caught.”

“Mmmbhm!!!” he tries to shout and struggles against the webs, eyes wide.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pushing down the urge to grab him by the shoulders and hit him against the ground again. Just once, not too hard, just to teach him a lesson and get some of this adrenaline—

“Oh my god,” the woman says again, behind you.

Your eyes fly open, and you jump to your feet. You turn, eyes scanning over her—

She’s alright. The first shot had never hit her—a warning, maybe?

“Are you alright?” you ask carefully, stepping closer with open, friendly hands. “Did he hurt you?”

She shakes her head. You blink, her full round lips and dark glossy brown hair pinging something in your mind—

“You’re from that club,” you say.

Her hair isn’t in fingerwaves like last time, though her thick black makeup is still there, running down her cheeks. “Funny seeing you here,” she says, shaky.

You sigh, then laugh. “Your luck is almost worse than mine,” you say, hands on your hips. Behind you the man struggles and yells through the webs. You turn and set back to work wrapping him up tighter. “You got a working phone?” you ask over your shoulder.

“Uh, yeah–”

“Call 911,” you say. “I’ll wait here with you.”

She does, and you do. You chat while you wait, learning her name—Violet—and that she’d gotten a new job at a restaurant after the incident with the Venom anomaly. Too traumatized to step foot back in the building, she explains. She asks you what you do, and then laughs a “Right, duh,” when you mime zipping your lips and locking them shut. She hugs you when the police arrive, tight and real and grateful, and then lets you slip away.

You stumble in through your balcony later that night, bone tired and heavy. The adrenaline has long since left your body, leaving your movements somewhat clumsy as you shed your suit straight into the washing machine.

It’s good, though. Tonight was good, you think, washing the sweat under the hot water of your shower. You’ll deal with the issue of Karen and her column later, if you have to, but that’s not what sits at the forefront as you replay the night in your head. You think you might have saved Violet’s life if the last robbery you saw committed by that man is anything to go by.

You close your eyes under the water when they suddenly start feeling hotter than the steam filling the room. A voice in your head tells you to breathe—it sounds suspiciously like Miguel, and that’s what finally pushes you and your tears over the edge.

You check the watch in the drawer when you go to bed, laying down to sleep on the pile of bedding on the floor again. There are no messages, no missed alerts, no pings from Peter or Gwen or Miguel-209. You fall asleep clinging to one of your pillows like it will come to life and fix everything for you.

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[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 21- Lorelai’s Graduation Day, Aka Lovesick Stepcousins In The Big City, Part 3

I'm cheering Rory on as she leaves school grounds, leaving these 35 year old classmates in the dust, and as she manages to pull it off under the eyes of two teachers or administrators. Yes yes yes! Well from here on out it's going to be pure Literati appreciation with only minimal anger and rage, you know, my usual shtick. That being said, when that happens I start to sound a little disjointed, like, this episode is so pure and precious and enjoyable that I really don't have much snarky commentary on it and I can just watch it. What am I without my snark powers?

Destiny awaits. In one of many examples of what I call "Gilmore Girls Poor"*, which is a term I coined myself for how AmyShermanPalladino views lower/middle class/urban/city life, Rory manages to end up in the Port Authority Bus Terminal in another dimension. The Alternate Dimension, 100% white, Spotlessly Clean, Nearly People-Free New York City Bus Terminal where she stared down a scary dude without being stabbed and she was offered a locker to store her book bag. (*More examples of GGP: In season 4, Jess is 19 years old, a high school dropout, and is living in a clean, rat and roach free, enormous New York City apartment with working utiltiies and large windows that in today's housing crisis people would murder him to get, he just needed a bed frame and to pick his shit up off the floor but we are supposed to believe its a crack den; Rory and Lorelai live in a beautiful home and eat take out and restaurant food every day on nothing more than an innkeeper's slary)

This was cute. Rory the little mouse getting ignored by city folk. I love it so much.

I think AmyShermanPalladino inserted this smoking guy to make it look like Rory was in a rough part of town. Someone finally gives our little mouse an abrupt answer on how to get to Washington Square Park where she can meet her stepcousin and her destiny.

The little smirk before he turns around! And then, and then...and then...the big grin when he sees her!

I am STARVING for stepcousins!!!!!! ..And the Emmy Award for the whitest words ever spoken on teleivison goes to Alexis Bledel, as Rory Gilmore in Gilmore Girls:

Baring his naked forearms like a saucy strumpet. Book sticking awkwardly out of his back pocket. He either finds the smallest books or has the roomiest ass pockets that he keeps pulling that off. How does he do that?

This is all so precious and pure I could die.

He is RAPT with attention listening to her silly stories. Show me where Dean or Logan ever paid this much attention to her telling one of these stories.

We know, Bubs. We know :(

Red alert! Red alert! Our first display of physical contact!

Jess says he eats from this hot dog cart every day. Let's unpack this: 1) Holy child neglect, Batman! I mean, Liz Danes. You can't even make your kid a peanut butter and jelly sandwich once in a while? This boy is feral. These are survival hot dogs. This may be all he can afford to eat on his own. 2) How are you still as skinny as a rail? 3) How's your blood pressure? 4) Where are you getting the money?

This sweet bubba unquestionably paid for Rory's lunch like a true gentleman.

I refuse to acknolwedge any sort of Behind the Scenes Hollywood mumbo jumbo like "Milo wasn't ACTUALLY eating the hot dog" or “umm, it’s a prop hot dog”. i am firmly committed to a scenario where everyone on the set for this episode was like "Milo our precious vegetarian baby boy we will get you a tofu hot dog to eat"

Ending this chapter with this adorable face.

[arminsesposa]

Vampire Pt. 3 (Female Reader x Miles Morales)

Using Brutal instead of Vampire for lyrics in pink! ! :) prowler Miles, and Regular miles will be color coded!

Also I’m sorry it’s short, I’ve been busy and writing other stories 😭😭 I’ll maybe continue !

You can’t help but laugh, as this all feels like a joke. You’re joking, right?

DO NOT COPY MY WORK, Reblogs are greatly appreciated! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

I want it to be, like messy

As your eyes slowly start to flutter you feel your chest tighten from the pain you had endured. You tried to stretch only to figure out that your hands were chained up as you felt the cold metal brush upon your skin. You were a little more awake now as you tried to look around to at least recognize where you were. You realized you were inside a room as you saw outside the window near the front door and saw a nearby desk, a punching bag outside of the room and then you felt your heart drop. Miles’s Uncle was standing near the desk watching the view outside. You felt your heartbeat race as you stared at him. He was very much alive and glaring outside as if he was angry about something. This must be another universe. Is what you tried to convince to yourself. He can’t be alive. You saw him murmur and look down in frustration. The nauseous feeling in your stomach of how wrong this all felt. Until you heard footsteps coming from the corner of the room you didn’t even realize. There was the prowler standing above you as you let out a surprised gasp. As the prowler approaches you, you could feel his cold glare staring at you. You felt frozen in fear as you heard the soft mechanical sound of his mask and the soft breaths he took. You were stunned, as you two both stared at each other. He tilted his head to see you as you stared up. Before you could even say anything the prowler mask unraveled as your felt your stomach drop. You weren’t ready to see who was behind the prowler mask. The one who caused so much harm and damage to your community. As the mask began to disappear, the feeling of fear suddenly rushed. You were staring at Miles. Yet something felt different about him. He didn’t have that baby face that he usually had and instead was much more serious and seemed unhappy. He smirked at you as he spoke to you in a soft whisper. “Como te extrañaba amor”

I’m so insecure, I think; That I’ll die before I drink

This has to be a dream. Is what you thought to yourself. I mean your boyfriend recently flaked on your one year anniversary and here he was dressed up like the prowler. You were definitely sure that it was Miles, but something was off. You were definitely agreeing with yourself that you must’ve been in some kind of alternative dimension. As your mouth was a bit open from the shocking reveal, He grabbed your chin closing it. “Te extraña..” He said with an accent, which was something different you immediately noticed. You also noticed his usual puffy messy hair, were now in clean organized braids.” What are you talking about?” you managed to say in a quiet voice still shocked about how this is all happening. He then glared at you as he straighten up. “I thought I lost you” Miles said in a serious tone as he made his way to you and cupped your cheek. You froze as his sudden action. Yet, he was gentle as he touched your skin, reassuring you that you were okay and safe with him. Something your Miles used to do whenever you were nervous or scared. As The Miles in front of you held you in his arms he whispered softly to you. “It’s okay amor, I won’t ever let you go.” As he held you once more, feeling relieved to hold you again.

And I’m so caught up in the news, of who likes me and who hates you

Your eyes immediately widened as he whispered into your ear. You felt your whole body tingle at his voice. Part of you confused on what he meant. Lost you? What is he talking about? Did I just disappear from the face of the earth? As all these thoughts rushed to your mind, you noticed how Despite his Cold demeanor, he stared at you in awe. He stared at you like you were a prized possession. His gentle eyes stared at you as you managed to speak up. “What did you mean, when you said you thought you lost me?” You looked up at him, confused why that was one of the first thing he mentioned. Miles eyes widened, as he realized you didn’t understand. He frowned at the innocent look you gave him. Part of him knew that you weren’t his but he couldn’t lose you. Not again. “I still remember seeing the puddle of blood.” He said softly. “I was hoping it was a dream. Until I saw you take your last breath. I held you so tight hoping to see your eyes open once more” Your felt like passing out. You didn’t want to believe in what he said. The realization didn’t hit you that in this somewhat alternative dimension you were dead, until you saw the fear and sadness in his eyes. You felt a sense of panic and fear go down your spine as Miles suddenly hugged you tight. ”I’m not making that same mistake again amor.” He said in a soft whisper as he placed his head on the crook of your neck. You were still processing everything. You felt almost mesmerized at his sudden charm. It felt so different from how you would feel with the miles who would always show up late. You almost felt like you were home.“I can’t loose you again. After loosing my father and you… I can’t let that happen” Miles rose up from the hug with his cold and sudden personality. His eyes were still kind yet much more serious as you both turned to look at your miles who had just woke up and was trying to find out where he was.

And I’m so tired that I might, Quit my job start a new life.

Your heart dropped. You were so mesmerized by the Miles in front of you, you didn’t realize that your miles was chained up on a punching bag. You then made eye contact with Miles as he smirked and turned your chair, making sure that Miles would be able to see you.” Please don’t hurt him..” you said in a soft whisper as Miles glared at you as his prowler mask began to cover his face once more. Miles chuckled as he flexed the sharp claws “Don’t worry baby, I just need to show him that you’re mine” Your eyes widened in fear, as you began to panic trying to free yourself from the chains as Prowler Miles hopped on near the ceiling staring down as your Miles. You began to look around you for a way to escape, as you saw the look on your boyfriend’s face in his spiderman suit. Your eyes widened in surprise. As you wished so much that this was a joke, there was your boyfriend in a Spiderman suit as he looked exhausted. You instantly clicked your one year anniversary mishap with Miles in the suit. Your boyfriend was Spiderman. A mix of emotions suddenly filled. Part of you pissed that this was the way you found out. Another part absolutely shocked that he hid this from you, and another part absolutely devastated to see how exhausted and beat up he looked. Despite all your current feelings, you two would need to have a long talk when you guys weren’t both tied up by an alternative version of your boyfriend. You looked at his exhausted face as his eyes widened in fear as he saw his alternate version of himself as the prowler. You tried to lean in, despite being tied as you tried to listen to their conversation. Suddenly, Miles stared at your direction causing Miles to look at you. The way his face dropped and he grew angry to see you tied up to a chair. You two haven’t talked since the date as he missed you so much, only to see his girlfriend trapped and chained up by his alternative version of himself. He realized his spider sense was correct earlier as he saw the fear in your eyes as you two made eye contact.” (Y/N!)” Miles shouted as he began to move finding a way to free himself as Miles just laughed out loud. “Eres un idiota” he sneered as he pushed the punching bag causing the bag to move in a circle. “Don’t you touch her! Leave her alone!” Miles shouted angrily trying to think of a solution as the prowler mask began to hide Miles face once more as he made his way to you his sharp claws out. You were suddenly confused on why he was walking towards you with such dullness until you noticed his sharp claws out. The fear that grew in your eyes as his claws grasped the chair holding near the side of your head. “No te preocupes Chiquita… aquí te tengo” he whispered in your ear as he slammed the door shut and closed the blinds, making sure that your Miles couldn’t see you as he tried to do everything to break free.

And They’d all be so disappointed, ‘Cause who am I, if not exploited

Hope you enjoy part 3 🧘🏽‍♀️