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ptoodle · 11 months

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Very rarely do I see people ship Fern and Huntress Wizard but when I do I can’t help but feel like they have a fundamental misunderstanding of both Huntress Wizard and Fern’s nature. Like on the surface it’s “haha!!! Plant boy and plant girl!!!! Huntress Wizard likes Finn and Fern is Finn but a plant so they’re perfect for each other!!!!” which just like, completely ignores everything core to Fern’s existence and Huntress Wizard’s complicated feelings toward love.

Fern is just more than just “Finn but plant”. He is LITERALLY Finn, but tainted with a curse. He is built out of fucked up evil twisted magic. Fern spends his entire existence finding his own identity and trying to reconcile Finn’s natural desire to do good with the corrupting nature of the grass curse. Fern’s struggle is internal, and he don’t have the emotional capacity for romance until he sorts his own shit out (which unfortunately due to the curse, he’ll never be able to do).

There's also the matter of the huge gap in emotional maturity between Finn and Fern. The Finn inside the Finnsword missed key moments of emotional development that our Finn experienced from season 6 to 8. Fern wasn't molded by key experiences like The Visitor, Crossover, Hall of Egress, Flute Spell, Don't Look, or The Music Hole. In particular, the massive emotional growth Finn underwent in Flute Spell is what allowed him to start a functional relationship with Huntress Wizard, and Fern lacks that growth. Fern is essentially a version of Finn stuck in season 6, and lacks the emotional intelligence to properly handle a relationship with anyone, let alone somebody as emotionally sensitive as Huntress Wizard.

But enough about Fern. I’m not a Fern expert, and this is only my B-rate interpretation of his character. The REAL egregious mischaracterizations of a Fern x Huntress Wizard ship lay in people just not understanding Huntress Wizard properly. For starters, you have to understand that both Fern and Huntress Wizard are two very magical beings, but their magics come from different sources. Huntress Wizard is a wizard (surprising, I know) and Fern is a CURSE. Fern is an unnatural, malicious magical force. Huntress Wizard would be off-put by Fern’s existence because he is a perversion of the natural world that she ties herself deeply to. Huntress Wizard assumes the role of a sort of “keeper of nature” in the forests of Ooo (as seen in her quest to slay the Grumbo for being invasive in The Wild Hunt), and Fern is a disruption to that natural order. A relationship between the two would never work because Huntress Wizard would be uncomfortable with Fern’s very existence.

There’s also the matter of why Huntress Wizard is attracted to Finn, and how Fern lacks many of the qualities Huntress Wizard likes Finn for. For starters, there’s the matter of emotional development I talked about before. Finn is extremely well-put together during the time he spends with Huntress Wizard in Flute Spell, and it’s easy to see how deeply he respects Huntress Wizard and her objectives. Finn isn’t determined to help Huntress Wizard with her mission to talk to the Spirit of the Forest out of a blind infatuation for her, but out of his natural drive to help people. Finn is very in-tune with his emotions (and can handle rejection like a champ), and Huntress Wizard can see that in him. This emotional in-tuneness is part of why Huntress Wizard so deeply respects Finn. Huntress Wizard seems to value her ability to stay true to her feelings (which even she struggles with; see my Flute Spell megareview for more) is drawn to his honesty and selflessness. Unfortunately for Fern, whether it is because of his lack of emotional development or because of his curse, cannot handle all his conflicting feelings inside him and doesn’t have the same kind of emotional stability that Huntress Wizard is attracted to Finn for.

I could go on and on and list even more reasons to why Fern x Huntress Wizard wouldn’t work, but those stray further into the “headcanon-ey”school of thought and I’m trying to be more objective with my character analysis as possible. I know being complexly objective is impossible and you have to leave a little room for individual interpretation but overall the entire ship is built on a very flimsy basis of “what if the two plant people liked eachother” and that’s it. There’s way more to these characters that make them special, and reducing them to just their visual similarities does a disservice to their character depth and creative potential.

#huntress wizard #adventure time #finn mertens #adventuretime #finn the human #fern the human #fern mertens #wow I never realized how many adventure time episodes start with ‘the’#why is the formatting all weird #that’s the price I pay for writing this all on mobile

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pure-oddity · 9 months

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Fast foodies know the deal

Ghost x reader

(not proof read, this is just fluff straight from the source

Warnings: none, ovulation mention maybe? Its brought up a single time.)

The craving hits around 3 in the morning, it's ovulation week so the idea of not getting chicken nuggets from the drive through makes you want to cry.

You turn towards the sleeping lug beside you. He's on his back, breaths deep and even. Still as a grave but at your movement he takes the arm you had been using as a pillow to drag you further into his side.

Your Simon, took you forever just to get the man to admit he did more than tolerate you. even longer to admit he cared for you. It took you almost using his toothbrush to realize that the man might actually (gasp) like you. That one you didn't push, figured he'd come to terms with it on his own.

As you look at how peaceful he seems you try to fight the urge, you really do, but as you prop yourself up on your elbows and move closer to Simon's ear you resign to begging his forgiveness later.

"Simon, my baby? You sleeping?"

You wouldn't have known he was a awake had it not been for the lone eye opening to check on you

"Was, love. I was. Whats wrong, bad dream? Y' Can turn on the telly to that duck cartoon or the robots - won't bother me none." He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back, he's being so sweet you really do start to feel bad.

"I want chicken nuggets."

Silence.

Both eyes are open now.

The silence continues.

You smile sheepishly.

Wordlessly simon extracts his arm and turns so his back is to you.

"Nnooooooo! Simon pleeeaase. Pretty please? I want chicken nuggets so bad!"

"Go ahead. keys are on the rack, tanks full."

"Nooo you have to take me! come on baby please, for me?"

"My love. Sunshine. Light of my life. If you're hungry i made a perfecly good roast last night. Heat that up and let a man rest."

"I dont want a perfectly good roast! I want chicken nuggets. And a burger. And fries - oh maybe a shake?" You lean over him, hair purposely hung over into his face. He turns quickly and you're nose to nose

"So youre gonna have me get up at 3 fucking a.m. to get you a greasey, artey clogging, cholesterol raising gastrointestinal disaster of a meal - when we have a perfectly good home made dinner in the fridge."

"....please?"

Silence.

A deep suffering sigh.

An ecstatic squee

"Just get your fuckin shoes on"

------

You lean back over into the passenger seat, simon grumpy faced as you insisted that you should be the one to order.

You pat your thighs in glee as he pulls up to the window, gives you a dirty look , and hands the cashier his card.

The second window delivers your meal and drink quickly, you dig in like a starved animal. You're mid chew when he gives a grunt. A snooty sounding eh hem.

You grin and giggle, slowly airplaning him a nugget.

"Give me the chicken or i'll take the whole box"

You squeak and shove it to his lips quickly. His jaws snap around the nugget and it's gone within a single bite - you retract your fingers, still intact but wet with spit.

You give an 'eeeech' and look for somewhere to wipe your hand.

"Any of this ends up in or on my interior and it'll be your arse."

You roll your eyes and reach in the bag for a napkin, knocking the fries over in the process.

Silence.

The car drifts slowly to the left and is parked along the side of the road.

Not a word spoken.

You try to shove as many back into the carton as possible.

He stares at you.

You smile sweetly at him before leaning over the center console and kissing him. You meet his lips, they're stretched into a dangerous grin.

"Love" kiss "did you" kiss "spill salt" kiss "in my truck?"

You might not know a lot, but you know that voice means you're in trouble, which means it's distraction time.

You continue your sweet onslaught of kisses.

"Thank you for taking me baby, I love you so much. ", another smooch

is delivered.

"Youre my person, my favorite guy, love of my life."

He bites at your lip and you barely manage to slip it from his teeth

"Wanna spend the rest of my life with you, grow old with you"

He grips the back of your head and maneuvers your ear to his mouth, in a deep rumble he asks

"Are there fries on my floor, love?"

The dangerous smile still present.

"No of course not baby! i cleaned those up."

"So my truck is fry free?"

"Well - no didn't say that. there's a, a few under the seat"

He's grappling you into his lap now, the man looks a hint deranged.

"And why, my love, are you telling me about them instead getting them?"

he presses.

"'Cause I - hehe - I can't reach!" You giggle out as his hands slink towards your sides.

He pokes and prods at you, growling not unlike a bear while you squeal and squeak out little laughs.

"Gets a man up at ass o'clock-"

"Oh please, you get up early anyway!"

"makes him drive to get congealed grease-"

"you had a nugget too!"

"Then trashes his truck."

"Oh please it's like a handful of fries, I'll get them, i'll get them!"

He frees you with a huff and you dive back over to your side of the car. You pop open your door and hop outside to get a better angle at the underside of the seat. He gets impatient as you fish around for the last few fries, giving a little hurrah as the last one is snatched.

Clambering back into the truck you grin at him, happy as can be. He hums a short laugh, and you're off to home again.

He makes a beeline for the bedroom and you trot over to the counter to finish your meal, most of it having been shared and eaten in the truck. You sit back a moment to enjoy the feeling of fullness when you see Simon emerge again.

"Bed. Now. Kept me up long enough" he's already on you before you can think of a reply, slung over his shoulder. He makes quick work of getting you both situated in your proper spots.

You're snuggled into his side for the night, full and content. He breathes in deep and exhales slowly. you draw nonsensical patterns on his bare chest, playing with the hair there. As sleep overtakes you, your palm flattens over the spot where his heart resides; and you feel him relax just a smidgen more.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #fluff #odd stories #all of this was also written on a phone #so like of formating is weird thats why #simon riley fanfic #simon riley fluff #is it so wrong to want a big beefy grumo to get up in the dark of the morning to get you food???? i think not #is he maybe ooc in this? perhaps. perhaps. do i just wanna write a story in which the man is happy and has a dork of a spouse? ye.#also when i have nightmares i watch one of two cartoons on mute- its either transformers or darkwing duck!#sunshine series

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milimeters-morales · 13 days

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chapter 5 of the transfem miles fic :3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chap 6

Wordcount: 4k+

Warnings: Someone's transphobic towards a side character, if you don't wanna read that then skip from "two in the afternoon" all the way to "Miles has been helping around the city all day"

“What did you say?”

Miles swallows down his hesitation, can feel the sweat running down his back, and breathes heavily out his nose.

“I… I told Peter and one of his friends… about us. Being together.” Each word feels like he’s digging further and further into his own grave.

Ganke takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes, “That’s great, man. I honestly didn’t think you’d be ready.” He then places his glasses back on and turns back to play on his computer.

Miles stares at him, dumbfounded.

What?

“What?”

Ganke hums. “What? I mean, you’re always hiding me from everybody, I just didn’t expect you to--”

“No,” Miles says, “is… is that it? You aren’t mad? You’re not gonna leave?” He asks, voice shaking. He can feel the rocks in his stomach and the adrenaline making him his limbs feel light.

Ganke quickly turns to face him again, and Miles can see his eyes shining ever so slightly. Shit.

“Leave? What? Why would I do that?” He asks in disbelief. “Miles, you know I never really liked keeping us a secret. This is… actually amazing, I can tell my mom, you can tell your parents--”

Miles feels cold dread stab him in the stomach, and he holds in the “no” that wants to escape his mouth. Ganke’s eyes lighting up makes him bite the inside of his cheek.

“--well, maybe we can wait a bit before we tell my mom,” Ganke amends with a slightly bitter tone, “but no man, I’m not mad. Should we tell Gwen or do you think Pav told her already?”

Still trying to wrap his mind around Ganke not storming out of the dorm right now, Miles doesn’t respond. His heart feels like it’s beating way too fast, and he feels the sweat coming back full force, running down his face and back. His face feels hot, and he just wants to curl into himself until he gets so small that he merely pops out of existence.

“Ganke, I’m really sorry,” Miles finally says after a few unsure moments of silence. “I just… it was an accident, like with Pavitr. I didn’t actually want to… tell anyone? Not yet.”

Ganke actually pauses the game he’s playing, and fully turns in his chair to give Miles a quizzical look. “What?”

God, here comes the most difficult part.

Miles sits down on Ganke’s bunk, taking off his gloves and fidgeting with his fingers. “I’m still not ready. I know that… I know that you want to let people know, but I… just can’t. I’m--”

Ganke shakes his head, “You’re sorry, I know. I just… why? I mean, your parents are so supportive of literally everything else you do, the rest of your friends are going to accept us,” he trails off, looking away with a frown. “I know you’re scared, but we should at least tell… I want your parents to know about me, I don’t want to just keep lying to their faces and sneaking around all the time ...”

Miles looks down at his hands. He always knew that Ganke never really wanted their relationship to be secret, but already made it clear he wasn’t going to pressure Miles to come out to anybody before he was ready.

“I know, I know. I want to tell them too--”

“Do you?” Ganke interrupts, his tone causing Miles to look up and meet his eyes.

No , he thinks. “I… I already-- I’m Spider-Man, and you know they still aren’t… Look, I can’t keep pushing all this…” Miles struggles to get the rest of the sentence out as he realizes how bad it sounds.

The other boy seems to realize what he was going to say, because his gaze turns sharp, hurt flashing almost too quick for Miles to catch, before he sighs. “Miles, let’s… not. We’ll talk about this in the morning, or something.”

“Yeah,” Miles agrees numbly, crawling up into his own bunk and changing into his sleep clothes. “I love you, you know that.”

Ganke doesn’t respond, which makes the rocks that settled in Miles’s stomach feel like they were going to drag him through all the floors in this very building and into the Earth’s core, but when he looks over, he sees Ganke already has his headphones on, facing the wall.

He’s going to be sick. He’s overreacting to this, it’s normal for Ganke to be upset right now and not want to see him or talk to him any longer. They can work this out. They love each other, and that won’t change.

Miles leans back into his own bunk, and stares at the ceiling for the rest of the night.

____

The cool breeze stings his cheeks as he walks down the street with Ganke. His boyfriend. He squeezes his hand briefly.

“Miles, don’t. I know you don’t even wanna hold my hand right now,” Ganke mumbles.

“I do,” Miles insists, because he really does--

“But you’re scared,” Ganke says--

because he really is.

“I… I don’t want to be, I want to hold your hand,” Miles tries to insist, hating how weak his voice sounded. He did want this, why couldn’t he at least sound like it? “I don’t want to be scared of what anyone thinks--”

“How about this, we start slow. And on purpose, this time, we can…” Ganke trails off.

“You don’t think it’s a good idea,” Miles guesses.

“Well I don’t have any other plans, man. I don’t wanna just keep us secret for the rest of our lives,” Ganke says, tucking his hands in his pockets. His glasses fog up when he sighs, “But I don’t want to scare you off or anything. I don’t know.”

Miles turns his gaze to the ground.

“Maybe… yeah. We start slow. I can tell people… on purpose,” he agrees, swallowing the rocks in his throat. They settle back in his stomach, waiting.

“But you’re not sold on the idea?”

“No, no. But I can… try?” That’s what relationships are about, right? Trying? Meeting halfway and all that.

Ganke is quiet for a few minutes while they walk. His breath fogs up his glasses, and splashes from the puddles they step in are freezing, even through their pants.

“Yeah. Okay,” he mumbles. “Who do you have in mind?”

Nobody, but Miles doesn’t say that. He looks around, squinting at the slowly rising sun.

Alright, he could do this. He could try telling people. Pavitr and Peter already know, and they’ve done nothing but be supportive, or in Peter’s case, be annoying. The man probably told his wife, and his baby, who would’ve babbled nonsense back at him, and that friend-- Richard, he thinks-- probably…

Take a deep breath.

Probably didn’t tell anybody. He probably forgot all about it. Miles doesn’t even exist in that world, he would have no reason to go around telling people about some random guy’s relationship worries.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Ganke asks him, unimpressed with the answering silence.

“Um… yes.”

“Really? Who?”

Miles gulps.

____

Even on Earth-42, a city that’s overrun with villains controlling more than they should, there’s still annoyingly loud morning traffic. Horn honking, tires screeching, car engines sputtering, and the jumbled muffled noise of people yelling at each other reaches Miles even when he’s hundreds of feet in the air. But it’s all just background noise. He’s not focusing on that. He’s focusing on how to not die inside trying to confess what he’s about to confess.

“So why did you make me come up here? You’re not here to pull an O’hara, right?” G. asks him, slowly coming closer to join him on the edge of the roof.

The two chuckle at their inside joke, but Miles notices the other’s tense shoulders. Does he really look like that right now too? He relaxes his shoulders just the tiniest amount.

“I just… wanted to tell you something. Away from Ma and Uncle Aaron-- it’s personal, so…”

“What? Did something happen? Is it about both of us?” G. suddenly straightened up from his slouch, eyes narrowing slightly.

Oh man, wouldn’t that be a relief.

“No, it’s just… I don’t want anyone else to know. It’s a secret.”

“Is it a girl?” G. asks hesitantly. “Uncle Aaron’s got better advice than me, though, so…”

Miles swallows the rocks in his throat back down to his stomach, where they finally settle and wait. He feels a shiver go down his spine, and sweat forms on his forehead. God, why didn’t he think to put his suit on before he came here? He could at least hide the more obvious tells that he was scared out of his mind.

“Nah, it’s not that,” certainly not a girl, “I just… uhh…”

Say it. Tell him. Tell him you’re-

“Did you kill somebody?”

“No! Dude, what the hell!” Miles shouts.

“Hey, don’t get loud with me! I was just asking! You look like you’re about to pass out!” G. grumbles, running a hand down one of his braids. “Probably shouldn’t be on the edge, come on.”

With a huff, Miles joins his alternate self in retreating from the roof’s edge and sitting down near the door leading to the stairwell. He picks up a pebble and tosses it up in the air repeatedly, trying to count his breaths.

He can do this. His anxiety and fears are irrational. Everything about G. shows that he’s bound to be accepting. And even if he isn’t, he wouldn’t gain anything by outing Miles to anyone else here, and he doesn’t even really care about Miles’s friends enough to want to tell them anything.

He can do this. If not for himself, then for Ganke. Ganke deserves it. His boyfriend deserves it.

“I’m…”

G. tilts his head, one brow raised.

Miles lets the rock drop and hides his face in his hands, groaning loudly. “I can’t do thiiissss…”

“Look man, you ain’t gotta tell me if you don’t want to,” G. tells him awkwardly, stiffly patting his shoulder in understanding. “I don’t tell you a lot of stuff.”

Miles peeks between his fingers. “Yeah? Like what?” He asks forlornly.

The other boy gives him a flat look. Yeah, okay.

“That’s the thing though,” Miles sighs, picking at his lip, something G. gently slaps his hand away for, “I want to tell you! It’s super important, and I kinda made a promise to tell you already.”

“And you hate breaking promises,” G. says. “But you hate telling me whatever this super important secret is… more than that.”

“You’re making it sound really bad.”

G. rolls his eyes, “Who did you even promise that to? Ma? Your dad?”

“Ganke. It’s super important to him that I tell somebody, and I promised to tell you like… earlier this morning. I hate breaking promises to him, man.” Miles wonders if that was too much information to give, and that G. would guess what he was supposed to confess anyway. Shit, that would be way worse than him just outright saying it… what if G. guesses it and stays quiet about it but secretly hates him because of that?

Stop it, stop it brain, Miles thinks to himself, furrowing his brows.

“Ganke? Is this about… y’know--”

Miles swears his heart stops for a second.

“--his crush?”

His WHAT?

“Yeah, Barbara? She’s… shit, you didn’t know?!” G.’s eyes widen, and he waves his hands as if trying to dispel the words. “Then forget about it!”

Miles stands up, feeling like ice cold water was just dunked on him. “His what?! No no no, don’t you walk away--”

G. groans and hides his face in his hands, “ Ay, bendito, that’s-- that’s super personal!”

“Then why did you think that’s what I was talking about!”

“Because what else would he tell you to tell another version of yourself that would probably already know?! Dude, seriously , you need to calm down--”

“Calm down?! Calm down?! He’s my--”

G. tugs on a braid as he takes a step back for some reason, “I know he’s your best friend, and we liked Barbara first, but he doesn’t even like her anymore! It’s probably the same with your Ganke!”

Huh?

“I… don’t… I don’t like Barbara,” Miles says after a few moments of tense silence.

“What--”

“I don’t even know who that is, man,” he elaborates.

“Then why’re you so heated?”

This is your chance! Tell him the truth, Miles!

“I just…”

He can’t do this.

“I was upset that he wouldn’t tell me something like that. I’m his best friend!” He settles on. The words make his entire body feel cold, and the rocks in his stomach grow heavier with guilt. He isn’t the best liar, but a shamefully large part of him hopes G. buys this one.

“Well, if it’s the same in your world, maybe he just wasn’t sure. And just because you’re friends doesn’t mean he has to tell you everything, you sound overbearing.”

“I didn’t say he had to tell me everything,” Miles bites out.

“Yeah, whatever. What were you gonna tell me?”

Miles shrugs him off, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you some other time.”

G. gives him another flat look and crosses his arms. “Aight, I’m leaving. Waste of my time…”

“Tell Mom and Uncle Aaron I said hi.”

G. doesn’t answer, and leaves Miles alone on the roof.

Ugh. Way to go, genius.

____

How is it only two in the afternoon?

“Well, thousands of years ago, some ape invented keeping track of time, so now we’re here,” the caretaker responds humourlessly.

Miles went back home, deciding to spend the rest of the day helping out in his own world. He’s in a homeless shelter, keeping the lights on with his own electricity until the backup generators are fixed. “Don’t quit your dayjob, ma’am,” he responds dryly, startling a laugh out of the lady. “How’d those generators break, anyway? I never asked about that.”

A somewhat elderly man sitting nearby responds, “Rats.”

A woman texting on her phone nearby scoffs, “Dad, it wasn’t rats. You were hearing things, again.”

“I’m not the crazy one, I know what I heard.”

“I’m not crazy, I told you to stop calling me that!”

The caretaker brings the man a sandwich and bowl of banana slices, shooting Mlies a look as if he started the argument. “The official story is that it’s an old generator, it was just a matter of time before it went kaput,” she tells him.

“And the unofficial story?” He presses, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

“Some assholes took a whack at it,” she whispers to him.

“Why cover that up?” He whispers back, eyes widening.

“So that some people here don’t lose it. A lot of them have no where else to go after this, and we don’t want them to get scared and think we’re being targeted,” she explains, glancing at the two still arguing, “we don’t want to take this away from them because of this one-off thing.”

“What if it’s not a one-off attack?” Miles can’t help but ask, frowning. “Even if it is, you should still let them know the truth.”

“Wow, your mask is really expressive. You look devastated,” the caretaker comments, not answering his question.

“Thank you, I helped design it,” he replies instead, making a mental note to swing over this shelter more often. Something tells him now isn’t the time to debate or argue with her.

Another woman, probably around his mom’s age, shuffles into the room with a tall pile of clothes in a basket. “Hey, the washer and dryer working?”

“Yeah, thanks to Spidey here,” the caretaker says, waving her hand in his general area.

“Thanks Spidey,” she says, “I’m Jeremy.”

Miles blinks, “No problem, Jeremy,” he tells him. Hopefully his embarrassment doesn’t show through the mask either.

Jeremy walks past everyone to another room, presumably the laundry room.

The old man scoffs loudly, “You’re still letting her work here?”

The way he says it makes Miles tense his shoulders and jaw.

“He,” the caretaker corrects sharply, “is a great volunteer, and is washing your clothes for you without complaining.”

The old man grumbles, goes to look at his daughter, and gives up the argument when he sees her glaring angrily at him. “Whatever. Too old to be dealing with this,” he mutters as he walks out of the room.

“I’m sorry about him,” the daughter says quietly and stiltedly to Miles and the caretaker, face quickly turning pink as she follows him.

The caretaker doesn’t respond to that, only dragging her hand down her face and rolling her eyes. “Poor kid. He’s gotta deal with those types that don’t even like him. I don’t know how he keeps coming back.”

“Well, my mom has to treat some real jerks at work, and she still goes back,” Miles tells her, “I think it makes Jeremy a pretty great guy. Putting up with all that so people can have clean clothes.”

The caretaker looks at him and smiles warmly. “You’re a good kid, Spidey. Don’t let anything change that.”

“I’m--” Miles coughs, and deepens his voice slightly, “I’m a grown man.”

The caretaker laughs at him, shaking her head.

____

Miles has been helping around the city all day after that, not stopping once for a break for himself.

It started storming at one point, rain seeping into his suit and chilling him to the point of numbness, resulting in a peaceful trance as he swung around, offering a hand wherever he could.

Sent down to the subway, Miles helps a group of teens find their art wall. Two boys and three girls were just wandering down here, clearly lost, and with their descriptions, he was able to figure out exactly what mural they were looking for. He hopes they don’t realize another mural-- his own, with the other spider-people and his uncle-- is nearby; he doesn’t want it to end up getting attention if the kids decide to take a picture or something, and he couldn’t really explain why he’d stop them either. “The guy who painted this is my friend,” doesn’t sound convincing, and even if it did, what if he ran into these kids as Miles down here? That would be a whole new thing to deal with and lie about!

“Hey, are you actually allergic to cinnamon?” One of the teens ask him, breaking him out of his thoughts as he leads them down the tracks. “Or am I reaching?”

“Why would I be allergic to cinnamon? Where did you hear that?” He questions her, dropping down now that they were getting close. He looks at the group of teens, noticing most of them were slightly taller than him. Which was only slightly annoying.

“Well,” one of the boys begins, “we binging your fail compilations--” Oh come on , Miles thinks-- “and you ran into a wall when running from that candy cane villain. Remember that?”

“Uh-huh,” Miles nods, crossing his arms. It was a few days after Christmas when he first became Spider-Man, and a major embarrassment even if he did end up winning.

“You said you were allergic to peppermint when a reporter asked why you ran, so we searched it up and spiders hate cinnamon too.”

Damn, he did say that, didn’t he? It was to save a bit of face, but the smell honestly did make him want to gag and made him so irritated that he had to do more running away than fighting. Sue him, he wasn’t about to throw up as Spider-Man. Guess he has to roll with the lie now.

“I like cinnamon most of the time,” Miles finally answers, “only really how my mom uses it.”

“Oh!” One of the girls pipes up, “Have you ever done the cinnamon challenge? You totally should!”

Miles lets out a sharp laugh, “And what, embarrass myself on the internet again? Willingly?”

“You already do that,” one of the boys says dryly.

“Ouch, you should be a little nicer! I am the one leading you through here,” he jokes.

“Sorry,” the boy drawls, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

They are quickly coming up to the mural, so Miles takes his leave. “Will you guys need help getting out of here?” He asks them, placing his hands on his hips. “I can hang around, and you can just call for me when you’re done.”

“Nope, her uncle can come pick us up when we’re done adding the finishing touches to this,” one of the boys responds, pointing to a girl that’s pulling out her phone.

The mention of the girl’s uncle sends a pang straight through his heart, but he just nods his head, taking in the mural once more.

He’s passed it maybe twice before, and It was a really beautiful work of art, messy in a way that screams authenticity and just pure fun, not following any sort of rules or guides. Just a collage made and continuously added on to by complete strangers. There was a group of smiling stick figures all circling the planet, and a realistic heart painting above in the colors of the gay pride flag. There were several more hearts painted haphazardly around, all in different styles, some of them were national and disability flags too, each surrounded by flowers and more smiling stick figures, a few in wheelchairs. There were even some printed out articles glued or taped around, mostly about accomplishments great and small for the communities painted. There was a cardboard sign nearby that said, “Make Your Mark!” with an arrow pointed to the mural, inviting anyone who wants to add to it.

It was probably one of his favorites, if he was being honest.

Miles would have to come back later anyway, just to see what these kids added to the mural.

____

He sighs and opens his bedroom door. “I got the oranges,” he calls out, peeling off his mask and tossing it behind him.

“Miles, go change, no Spider-Man at the table. You’re soaked, what did we tell you--” His dad tells him as he takes the bag from him, tossing a large towel at his face.

“But Spider-Man did really good today, can’t he get a few scraps?” He jokes.

“You know what I meant,” his dad mumbles, “go change. Your mother’s trying a new recipe, and I’m not getting my tastebuds burnt off alone.”

Miles’s eyes widen, “Are you sure Spider-Man shouldn’t get involved?”

“I can hear you two!” His mom laughs from her experimenting in the kitchen.

Once he’s in his room, he takes a few minutes to relax. He removes his suit, dries off, and puts on a plain tee shirt and some shorts, wincing when the shirt snags on his earrings. After giving himself a once-over to make sure there aren’t any bruises, cuts, trackers, or old gum he missed, he decides to text his friends.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Hey hows it going

|Gwen Stacy 65-B: bsuy w fight

|Miles Morales 1610-B: lmk if you need help

Okay, well Gwen’s occupied. Pavitr’s… probably still asleep, since it’s the weekend… Hobie prefers calling, and Miles really doesn’t want to do that right now… hmm.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Hey margo how have you been?

|Margo Kess 22191-B: hi it’s been going i guess! Wbu

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Nothing much just saving the day and hating school

|Margo Kess 22191-B: felt that lol

|Margo Kess 22191-B: im actually about to help gwen with this weird villain

|Margo Kess 22191-B: its a surprise tho so dont tell her

“Oh,” Miles quietly says aloud, sitting down on his chair.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Thats super nice of you!!

|Margo Kess 22191-B: yeah i want to be close again like we used to be

Huh. That’s interesting. Gwen never mentioned that she used to be close with Margo, and vice versa. Miles fights down a rush of… something close to jealousy, but not quite that. He knows Gwen made a few friends while she was in the Society, but she didn’t really like to talk about her time there in general. And he never really asked anyway, with a wound that fresh. Shoot, should he have asked at any point regardless? He doesn’t want to come off like he doesn’t care.

You’re overthinking again.

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Good luck

Does that look sarcastic? Or bitter?

|Margo Kess 22191-B: thanks dude :)

“Thank god,” Miles lets out a sharp breath, not realizing he was even holding it. He puts his watch in his nightstand and lays back on the bed, pulling out his phone, about to text Ganke--

Nevermind! That would mean he’d have to tell him he didn’t tell G. about their relationship. If he simply… forgot to text Ganke, perhaps…

No.

He needs to tell somebody . Tonight .

“Miles, come help cook!” his mom shouted from the kitchen.

____

“You okay?”

Miles blinks, looking down at the ball of meat he’s been rolling for the past five minutes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers. “Just a bit tired after saving the day, you know how it is.”

“Mm,” his dad hums, not wanting to talk about anything Spider-Man related, Miles guesses. “Just checking. You’re really tense.”

Miles unclenches his jaw and lets his shoulders drop to a more natural position. “I’m not.”

“Miles, you can talk to us. Me and your mother have seen a lot--”

They have? Miles feels lightheaded, and the rocks forming in his stomach are making him tense up again to not fall over.

“--whatever happened out there tonight, you can tell us. We know there’s a lot of stuff out there, stuff no kid should have to handle, and… we just want you to be honest...”

Miles could cry right now. Oh my god. They didn’t know, his dad was just talking about being traumatized on the job from getting horrible injuries or whatever. He swears he heard angels singing for a second there.

“I know, Dad,” Miles says, slightly impressed at how steady his voice sounded. He can’t see his dad, but Miles swears he can sense the unease and disappointment in the air around him.

Miles understands. The part of him that isn't cheering is screaming that he’s ruined his chance to be honest again, for his own selfish reasons. But the other part, the one that fiercely shields him as he hides away in that closet, simply leaves a cold relief as it washed over him.

“Miles, are those piercings infected? They look dark,” his mom points out as she comes back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

The lobes themselves are warm to the touch, now that he actually pays attention. “They do?”

“Yes, are you pulling on them? I told you not to go through any sewers, any dumps, and to clean them everyday!” she scolds, “They’re going to itch like crazy and drive you mad now.”

“It’ll be fine, ma,” Miles chuckles, realizing he actually has been slacking in cleaning them, “I can handle some itching.”

“Oh, Jeff, our son’s laughing about that infection,” his mom places a hand on her cheek, “We’ll have to call the priest.”

“It’s not an infection, mami.”

“Yep, I see the life leaving him right now,” his traitorous dad joins in.

“Guys, c’mon,” Miles laughs, “I’ll clean them after dinner.”

“Our last meal together,” his dad mumbles, shaking his head and wiping away imaginary tears.

____

Miles waited until his parents were asleep to sneak out onto the roof of their apartment building, creeping into the greenhouse.

He still needs to tell somebody, even more so now that he has an entirely new person to potentially worry about. Miles doesn’t know who this Barbara girl is, but if she exists here, that means Ganke could have a crush on her, and the very thought of that is making Miles’s brain go haywire. It doesn’t even make total sense in his brain; instead of neurons, there are just jumbled wires and a cacophony of incoherent panicked shouting.

He sits down on the floor of the greenhouse, hunching over and pulling at his hair.

Be smart about this , Miles thinks to himself. Don’t freak out, don’t freak out… He needs-- there’s gotta be a list. What was it Peter’s friend said? Start a journal, or something. He should list the problems, make a plan of action. That’s the smart thing to do.

#my writing #transfem miles #miles morales #spider man #spiderman #atsv fanfiction #atsv #spiderverse #fanfic #trans miles morales #m&m posts #ganke lee #milesganke #well the ship isn't the focus but yknow. wait why did i say that? the ship is VERY much a focus of the fic. who said that first shit #anyway... don't worry about all this shit rn im setting stuff up #but keep it in the very back of your mind #this chapter was a lot of filler tbh. as filler as i can make a chapter. which is not very much #also tumblr is formatting this weird as hell wtf???

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wander-wren · 25 days

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do anyone else’s thoughts come almost exclusively through the lens of like, writing? like there was a poll going around about whether you think in first/second/third person

i was just laying in bed thinking about stuff that happened tonight and the way i did that was by mentally holding the conversation i would have with three other people about it (bouncing between them) and then writing a tumblr post about it, and then also writing THIS tumblr post as i started thinking about this. even when i was a little kid i would frequently think in the third person, as a narrator of the story of my life. i can’t remember if ive always done this—it also applies to me thinking via imagining irl conversations and journaling, so maybe i just did that before i got into writing. maybe i spend too much time online. maybe this is normal and i’m misunderstanding how other people think

the only times i really dont think in the “hypothetical future conversations” format is if im thinking about/remembering what i’ll call a strongly sensory experience. more feelings/images than words. sometimes there are both at once

am i normal or insane for this one chat

#bird noises #this is gonna be very embarrassing if its normal #but also if its normal why has no one mentioned it #but like it feels normal?#im laying here trying to think in another format and i dont even know how you would do that #like that seems really weird #when im talking to someone i am still thinking either in the format of talking to them or talking to a third person about this convo #or not thinking in words at all. all words or no words in here #i feel like this should go in my drafts but what the hell. take it

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delusional-cryptid · 1 year

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Okay so I may have gone overboard………

But also I love these guys and cannot be stopped!! Theres a lot going on, so close-ups and transcripts under the cut :]

You know the drill by now, reblogs help me likes do not, and I’ll love you forever if you put tags on the rb <3

Drew most of these while watching the Oni trilogy, and a bit during s11/s12 if that means anything. Three notes about the piece before we get to the transcript/description:

1. I recently encountered the Lloyd-with-prosthetic-arm headcanon and had to draw it!

2. The way Kai is animated in the oni trilogy makes it look like he’s chewing the inside of his cheek whenever he’s thinking. Which is beyond charming, hence, the guy!

3. I think I need to say that none of this is intended to be ship art, however I have no qualms with you if you wish to interpret it that way!

Okay so, now that that’s out of the way, Transcript for my writing below:

Image 1, top left corner, is a note in blue that just says “note to self: use blue for water, not gray <3”. There is also a note to the top right corner of the image that has a cartoon figure saying “woag!” And the exclamation “ZAP!” By a lightning bolt.

Image 2, top right corner, has a memo in black and highlighted in orange, that says “*windows startup noise*” with an arrow pointing to a doodle of Kai. There is also a few colored pencil swatches with names below that same doodle.

Image 3, bottom left corner, has no text except for color names next to colored pencil swatches.

Image 4, bottom right corner, has a text bubble in red, pointing to a doodle of Cole who is holding a mug with difficult-to-read text. The bubble conveys that “His mug says ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve eaten this entire mug’”. There is also a doodle of Lloyd to the right, who looks sheepish and is saying (in light green) “thanks for the upgrade!” The response, in teal which indicates it is Nya speaking, comes in two speech bubbles. The top says “no problem!” The bottom says “just, please, stop wrecking them…”

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flamingredanon · 6 months

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Can I recommend Righart for Right’s real name?

That is a very interesting name indeed.

#lizzyask #never heard righart used before #right hand man the dude with many names and yet sometimes no name at all #also tumblr mobile why does the ask format look weird

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gramophoneturtle · 9 months

Photo

Submitted by Darumi_Spark (Twitter)/DarkRumia (Twitch)

Drew the socks lol

Will draw Father at a later date.

For a bit of background about the Father Mew - it’s one of the Mr. Mews in the Mew Roulette for my stream.

[Image Id: A woman with platinum blonde hair tied back in a ponytail stands above the viewer, looking down at them with her arms crossed and her red-brown eyes glowing while holding a black cat stuffed animal. She’s dressed in a white dress shirt, blue vest, white dress pants, blue dress shoes with a white suit jacket resting on her shoulders. Her necktie is purple and blue, and her socks are barely visible, showing a white and teal diamond pattern with light blue stitching.

The black cat stuffed animal has bright pink eyes, a long dirty blonde wig tied with a blue fluffy hair tie, two miss-matched rainbow arm warmers, and a bright pink tail warmer. Behind her, abstract darkened tall city buildings loom above her, with blue skies and white fluffy clouds circling high above.]

#submission #why the frick do submissions not let me add alt text???#oh wait do submissions use the old post editor? oh this sucks #maybe in the future i'll just download and make it a new post #anyways!!!#twewy #twewy oc #mother twewy oc #twewy parental entities #the mix of her being all super dangerous and threatening and then...father mew #this father mew is the greatest!!#confusion in what to think of this situation is so perfect i love her. i love this #thank you rumia!!!#the extra stitching detailing on the socks is golden i love it #i think i might add that in. as if her socks weren't complicated enough :']#i will try and remember to post some of the mews in the mew roulette from stream because they are adorable #also the submission information goes away on the custom...is that my layout's fault or because this is using an old post format? so weird

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mechahero · 6 months

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@outofthiisworld asked-🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms? oc details (accepting!)

Physically? It's stuff like tilting his head, fiddling with whatever he can get his hands on to keep them occupied, his eyes also move around the place a lot too because he usually can't stay entirely focused on one place and he's kind of used to doing that? He also kind of zones out a lot. It's not unusual to see him sitting, staring off into space. (He's usually fine though, don't worry.) His speech pattern is kind of odd, as well. At least, compared to "normal" people. So what sounds like a completely normal statement to him might sound unstructured and a bit longwinded to most people.

Additionally, if he eats a certain type of cookie and only this certain kind of cookie, he eats it with his pinkie out. He's not sure why. He's kind of always done that. And sometimes, very rarely in fact, he'll shudder. Just shudder. It's never because he's cold or internally, it's just something that happens to him. Again, he's not sure why because it's something that's always happened to him.

Internally, it's a little weird. He has to choose the soda bottle with the most bubbles he goes out of his way to avoid touching things that he thinks might feel gross and has to try not to hurl when he ends up thinking of the perceived sensation he thinks it might have anyway.

He likes the idea of filing his nails but hates the noise that comes with it, as its enough to have him shudder in disgust. Listening to music or videos does not help in the slightest, as he claims to be able to hear the nail file over them. He also sorts his pens by colors he likes and their importance, with glitter pens being sorted near the top and reserved for what he sees as very important documents or things to write. Stuff like that.

#//i might have misread this but i hope not? whoops #//sorry for the wait on this! i had to look over info bits i had written down for this #//i have so many things written out for this but i'm not trying to post a long list so here's a kind of formatted version #//i'll probably make a whole post about the stuff he does some day down the line lmao #//like the talking thing isn't all the time but it's noticeable enough for it to sound weird to people who weren't his family members #//it's like it makes sense to him when he's thinking about it but when he says it it sounds weird you know?#//he's so #//gesturing to him #//i love him and his weird little habits!! this could have been longer but oh well lol #why are you botherin' me? {answered memes}#hidden depths: {info}#outofthiisworld

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lesbianarchers · 1 year

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I’ve been back on my DC bs for a hot minute so have some of my fave underrated girls

Mia Dearden | Speedy II

When will she return from The War (Post-Flashpoint Erasure)

Cissie King-Jones | Arrowette

Yelled at the entire Justice League once and is an gold-winning Olympian archer

Deserves to be happy with her butch gf

Lorena Marquez | Aquagirl

Yet another victim of the New 52

I saw that mention in Aquamen DC where is she

Traci Thurston | Traci 13

Owner of an iguana known as Leroy

Put her on the JLD full time I miss her

Natasha Irons | Steel

Best member of the Superfam and no one can persuade me otherwise

Lilith Clay | Omen

Member of the Titans (she died and no one came to her funeral)

Usually when she shows up shit goes down

Anita Fite | Empress

I miss her

WHY DID YOUNG JUSTICE DARK CRISIS CLASS HER AS A VILLAIN

#NOT ALL MY FAVES BUT SOME OF THEM #idk why the format is weird #might just be mobile #dc #dc comics #mia dearden #speedy #cissie king jones #arrowette #lorena marquez #aquagirl #traci 13 #natasha irons #steel #lilith clay #omen #anita fite #empress

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amarriageoftrueminds · 11 months

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Illicit Affairs

by Earthsickwithoutyou

AU in which Will is living a quiet, safe, but deeply conflicted life in Maine, married to Molly but secretly longing for his dark Becoming. Mired in self-hatred and despair, he seeks comfort in the church. But things get very complicated once he meets the new priest at his parish, Father Hannibal Lecter.