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#(example: TWO spiders)
elflikesfrogs · 11 days
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forever wishing that they made a boolean filtering system on ao3
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There are two paths for the villains child. Oftentimes the narrative's favorite punching bag as the heroes, or in some cases, protagonists only see their villainous parent.
The tragedy- they become the very thing they fought not to be. This narrative can happen if they mirror their parents storyline. Maybe they fight against it but in the end they are doomed by the narrative.
I.E: Lex Luthor
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The hero- They become the hero their parent could never be. Pushed to the brink these characters don't break. Rather than using the antagonists hatred against them they ultimately choose to remain kind and loyal.
I.E: Spider Socorro
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Lex burnt the village that would never accept him. Spider burnt himself for the village.
Do you see the difference?
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yuriprince · 10 months
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me: sometimes i get these like? indescribable feelings of joy and comfort and security from inanimate objects? like it’s completely random and has no pattern but sometimes i’ll see something and i feel the same love that a mother might feel for her newborn child that’s weird right that’s so weird haha;;
friend: that can be a sign of autism actually!
my undiagnosed ass: Ah.
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orchideae · 4 months
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Uncle Tian. The importance that is Uncle Tian. ... With a "cameo" of Yelan in the second half, exactly at 1:00, which is incredibly so very important if you really want to get a proper glimpse into her 'professionally'.
#[ important. important. important. ]#[ he's /so/ important. ]#[ he has so many lines that i'm gonna actually end up replacing numerous of yelan's current tags with because they... ]#[ embody her more than i realized. ]#[ he's such a peaceful man and she's quite a peaceful woman at the heart of herself-- but ruthless in what she does. ]#[ not a 'killing machine' by the way; not by any means. but the thing is; when you look at her-- you might THINK that she is. ]#[ she plays that line so incredibly well and while i'm not one to draw correlations-- ]#[ it really does make me think back to for example wriothesley during the final confrontation in his sq. ]#[ despite his history-- we don't know him as a 'mean' or 'bad' man. but in that moment; you don't know what he wants to do-- ]#[ to dougier. ]#[ and while yelan is different-- it's this reality of; she's explaining zhiyi the risks of essentially playing from both sides. ]#[ but then offers him a deal that either forces him to betray the other side. or at /least/ work with both. ]#[ which is exactly what she warned him against a moment prior. it's insanely dangerous for him; but she doesn't flinch. ]#[ if he gets hurt; from this scene alone-- you don't know whether she'd care or whether the outcome/reward would be worth it. ]#[ but also; every time uncle tian speaks and it's not often; his lines just play so well into how she operates. ]#[ that almost intimidating patience; the ability to just wait. and wait. it's literally like-- god. what video is it in; hold on. ]#[ “a spider doesn't need to be in the center of the web to feel the slightest vibration from each thread.” ]#[ /shakes everyone on the dashboard. ]#[ i hate that my two biggest muses have spider imagery but way differently so. well-- kind of. ]#[ but /this/ level of patience? oof. that's yelan. ]#[ but also-- 0:35. that ost. this version of the ost. help me. save me. ]#[ also yELAN WHAT DID YOU WHISPER TO HIM BY THE END. U G H. ]#[ ooc. ] don't try to make it logical or edit your soul according to the fashion. rather; follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.
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gottagobuycheese · 1 year
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you know, in between the paralytic terror, it’s kind of hilarious to me that when I see the object of my greatest fear (read: a spider) my first reaction is to cover my ears
#YEAH GOOD GOING BRAIN THAT'LL DEFINITELY PROTECT YOU#what's it gonna do?? scream at you???#...#......#no#no.#I don't want to know I don't want to know I dON'T WANT TO KNOW NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONONONO#ahem. anyway#this is all to say that these next two weeks are going to be exquisitely fun#the worst thing in the world is seeing a spider#the second worst thing in the world is not seeing a spider that you previously saw#(this is partly in jest of course I know there are worse things than spiders out there)#(example: TWO spiders)#...okay literal shiver down my back let's not joke about this at midnight when there's no back up in the house#Cheese's personal molasses#ughhhhh why does it have to be a Slightly Larger Than Average spider too#I should replay undertale#this would not cure me or make the situation any better#in fact it would probably make it worse#but at least I could recalibrate my morals and pretend I am sparing this little creature out of a sense of mercy than pure cowardice#aughghhg but what if it MOVES to SOMEWHERE IMPORTANT#it seems like the same one I saw in the kitchen a few months ago#I am relying on it deciding that that is its favorite room#if I ever have any more spiders in my bedroom like that one week my brain might actually break#the only experience I have had in recent memory that was comparable to high school#in the sense of ‘yes I survived once but if I had to do it again I simply Would Not’#whelp that's enough procrastination time to go work on this presentation I guess#wAIT THE LAUNDRY THAT'S WHAT STARTED THIS WHOLE THING#man I miss when it was 10 AM and I found out I didn't have to go to work. let's go back to that. or do it again. whichever works
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“Life after Death,” Scarlet Spider (Vol. 2/2012), #1.
Writer: Christopher Yost; Penciler : Ryan Stegman; Inker: Michael Babinsky; Colorist: Marte Garcia; Letterer: Joe Caramagna
#Marvel#Marvel comics#Marvel 616#Scarlet Spider vol. 2#Scarlet Spider 2012#Scarlet Spider#Kaine#Kaine Parker#AKSHDHSJ THIS#Fun fact: this was the first issue I ever read with Kaine and (as if the rest of issue hadn’t already sold me)#this was the moment where I knew I would get a kick out of Kaine’s character#this also set the tone for the rest of the book and I was so on board#just for how starkly different from Spidey he was if nothing else#Imagine expecting to get saved by Spider-Man where he webs up the approaching vehicle#and makes some quip like “and yet I still can never catch a cab in this city ;D”#but instead you get buzzcut shirtless “Spider-Man” + 50% mass who yells obscenities and actually increases the lethality#of the incident by a factor of two#but yeah all jokes aside there is some actually serious content here#for example despite its absurd shock value this accident does actually have farther reaching negative consequences (rightfully so)#that whole “none of the responsibility” thing does catch up to Kaine even as he fumbles and learns his way to being a hero#That first panel is interesting first for the contrast with that earlier double spread (descending into darkness vs basking in the light)#and then for the fact that Kaine even tries to get involved at all when it’s obvious by that final page that Kaine’s first instinct now#(since he’s trying to move on from his past which was characterized by “fight”) is almost always “flight”#I also just find it interesting how Kaine expects to be made a spectacle of by the public#makes you wonder how people in the past have reacted to his uncovered face
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crabrangoonluvr · 11 months
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alright so during into the spider-verse's introduction to peter b. parker, we see his wedding, and he stomps on the wine glass right? this is a jewish wedding tradition, which makes this version of peter parker jewish (further confirmed in interviews -- however, i believe this is enough by itself). it's a nice nod to the jewish roots of the character.
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we get to see a bunch of peter parkers throughout the spider-verse films, and none of them have any explicit religious associations like peter b. parker. except for one!
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here we have gwen stacy's peter parker and aunt may, from earth-65, saying grace over a meal. from my understanding, this is generally a christian practice -- in judaism, we prefer to say short prayers before eating, and save the long, in-depth ones for afterwards. so to me, this was a clear example of the character being coded as christian. i was a little disappointed that they didn't make peter parker jewish here too, but since across the spider-verse discusses variants and the differences between instances of the same person between different universes, i interpreted this as a continued commentary on peter parker's ethnicity -- although he was initially jewish-coded and one of his two creators, stan lee, is jewish, this is often erased, especially in more modern interpretations of the character.
and then i remembered that this peter parker also literally turns into the lizard.
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and y'know what? good call on that one guys.
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sardonic-the-writer · 4 months
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𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ warnings: alastor being a bit egotistical
↳ song: si j'étais blanche—joséphine baker
↳ notes: got any ideas for stuff i should do next? reblogs are appreciated
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• It wasn’t your fault you’ve always had a messed up sleep schedule
• Even while living, nighttime had never been able to tame you. It was just your luck that the habit carried on into hell. Figures that the world wouldn’t give you a break even in death
• You weren’t exactly an insomniac, per se. It was quite the opposite in fact. Just a simple case of falling victim to spontaneous naps in the most random of places. Yet never at night
• Narcoleptic & nocturnal were the terms that your friends used to use for you. With grins, they’d compared you to an owl; always up at night wandering aimlessly. Sometimes for days on end you’d carry on doing this and that, only to curl into a ball the next day and remain that way
• The habit never was anything more than a nuisance until you’d started living at the hotel. The place was just so big, with so many places for you to lie down before the thought of your bedroom even crossed your mind
• Angel Dust was the first person to find you passed out. He had been strolling into the kitchen, looking for something to consume that wasn’t drugs for once, when he spied you hunched over the counter snoring softly
• In your hand was a wooden spoon covered in a creamy batter of some sort, a bowl beneath it with the same concoction. Almost as if you had been making something before passing out
• Briefly checking his phone, the spider confirmed that it was only two in the afternoon, and approached you with a sly smile
• You were promptly startled awake by a loud shout directly next to your ear
• “I’m sorry—“ Angel laughed wildly as you fumed, not sounding sorry at all. “—but you should have seen your face.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into another laughing fit
• “Hey! Watch it!”
• He ducked with a frown as you sent the spoon flying at his head, just barely missing the porn star’s styled hair
• Everyone quickly made their own discovery about your weird sleeping habits soon after. Each in their own embarrassing ways
• Vaggie witnessed you lying on the stairs looking positively drained one morning, and Charlie even found you face first on the bar counter while Husk wiped away at a cocktail glass
• “Too much to drink?” She asked the cat, lifting up one of your arms between her thumb and forefinger carefully, almost as if you’d wake if she pressed to hard
• Husk laughed to himself at the question, remembering how he had turned to make you a shot before coming back to the sight before him now
• “Not exactly.” He huffed
• Perhaps best example of just how bad your timing was came in the form of an impromptu staff meeting
• Alastor had called everyone— more like demanded them —into the main parlor for an announcement one day. A mere week after the kitchen incident with Angel, in fact
• With a flourish of shadowy magic and a twirl of his hands, the overlord presented some sort of home made commercial on the age old TV the place had, looking very amused with himself as he did so
• You tried to pay attention, you really did. But at one point the actors and stray blood splatters started to look like the back of your eyelids
• By the time it was over, Alastor was tapping his fingers along the top of the picture box rhythmically while everyone looked at him with awkward smiles
• But you? Well—
• “So!” Alastor cheered with a cheesy grin as he spun on his heel. The rest of the members in the room watched him awkwardly, not noticing that your head had hit the back of the couch at a rough angle. “What do you all thi— are they asleep.”
• Static bled into the demons voice at an alarming rate as you let out a half jolt at the shift in mood, falling off the couch with a yelp in your wake
• You took a moment to swipe at your face wildly before blanching at Alastor towering over you nervously
• “Uh, my bad?”
• Alastor’s smile strained itself so thin, you thought it would split his face in half
• “Glad to know I’m keeping you entertained.” He all but laughed happily. But the white knuckled grip on his microphone told you otherwise
• You recall Charlie telling you something about ignorance being one of Alastor’s least favorite things. Especially when it came to his little spectacles
• “Maybe we’ve had enough peer feedback for today—“ Vaggie cut in cautiously
• “I concur.” Came your quick agreement
• You made sure to avoid Alastor for a few days after that
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 months
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Peter Anderson: Hi, my name is Peter Anderson. I'm from Peter Anderson Studio and we created the title sequence to Good Omens Season Two. So this scene is quite literally a continuation from Season One.
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An interesting detail with this scene is the fly. The fly is significant because it stores Gabriel's memory.
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Gabriel is hidden in every scene. This is the first time we see it.
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This goat is half bird, half goat, representing a mistake in a moment of transformation.
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In the pickled herring barrel, we have literally red herrings sticking out.
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A lot of the gravestones have hidden engravings, easter eggs, all written by Neil.
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[This one says: HERE LIES THE FORMER SHELL OF BEELZEBUB referncing Beelzebub having a new face in S2 :), another ones are: EVERYDAY, JANE AUSTEN, Here lies ADAM (the Adam from Adam and Eve is meant)]
Another hidden Gabriel.
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Our same character that was trying to escape Hell in Season One titles is also trying to escape here, moving in the opposite direction to the rest of the procession. Except this time he's apprehended and dragged back into the procession.
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Our Hell spider from episode four makes a little appearance in the background here.
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Can you tell where the bus is going? Director Douglas McKinnon selected Powell and Pressburger's Stairway to Heaven to put on the billboard.
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Another thing to note here is the type is all handmade specifically for Good Omens. The Alphabet only exists within the show.
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The big floating turnip is a nod to Azirafel's magic tricks.
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The Ladies of Camelot poster we pulled from the show.
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We added plaques to the back of the chairs and Neil chose who to honour.
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[There are: A TALE OF TWO CITIES by CHARLES DICKENS, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by JANE AUSTEN, THE CROW ROAD by IAIN BANKS (twice!) and GOOD OMENS by TERRY PRATCHETT (Neil missing for some reason :) <3)]
Saraqael made an appearance from Heaven.
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Our Space is back from Season One. Aziraphale and Crowley are having a little dance here. A moment of flirtation. There's a tiny planet in the middle that comes into existence at this moment.
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Our Scottish tartan hills make an appearance here.
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The aeroplane and the airline is a little bit of a clue here.
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[THY KINGDOM AIRWAYS 👀]
It's raining love hearts in reference to Aziraphale's attempt at making Maggie and Nina fall in love.
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Here are elevators to Heaven and Hell. A wee thing to spot. Here is Gabriel in the lift arriving from Heaven.
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We've updated our flags to reference some of the plotlines in Season Two. For example, The Second Coming.
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The movie poster artwork changes every week, representing the episode plotlines and the minisodes. We made the posters to look like the time period and in this case we've got a Good Omens version of Buddy Holly.
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[The posters are:]
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In the snack bar some of our popcorn is actually communion wafers.
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There are specific characters from Season One in the boxes watching the movie as the procession goes by. This includes some of our original concept art from Season One.
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The duck playing the accordion is from a newspaper headline that someone is reading in The Dirty Donkey from one of the episodes.
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[this is also from the Good Omens book :): "Daily Mail. 'Letter From America.' Um, August the third," said Newt. "Just after the story about the woman in Worms, Nebraska, who taught her duck to play the accordion."]
Each episode is showing a new movie on the screen, each one selected by Douglas, and has clues about what's to come.
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The season one phone box tumbles in the background.
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The big mountain is made of all the ingredients from Season Two and a couple of remnants from Season One. We are heading towards the biggest Easter Egg, which is the lift. We're heading towards the Second Coming..
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ohdeerfully · 3 months
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hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️
what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰
Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!
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Be Back Soon (i)
alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.
“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.
Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”
“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.
“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.
“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.
You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.
“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.
Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.
“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”
Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.
“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.
Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.
You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.
Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.
“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.
He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.
You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?
Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.
It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.
“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.
“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.
Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.
You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.
You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.
“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.
You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.
“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”
Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.
He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.
“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.
Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.
“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”
“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.
“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!” 
You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.
“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”
How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.
You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.
Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.
“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”
Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.
“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”
Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.
He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.
He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.
Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good thing there would be a bar.
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ms-demeanor · 21 days
Text
While I was out of town my boss pretty clearly got in a fight with one of my coworkers about overtime and billable hours and that has led to him being a petty little pissbaby about "complying with california law" by having us fill out time sheets because boss was utterly incapable of finding the middle ground between "you must track every second of your time in order to be paid for it" and "the technicians who make $60k a year are salaried and therefore are not entitled to overtime."
"Salaried employees can be non-exempt and therefore earn overtime if working for more than 8 hours a day but also are in a position where they can be trusted to take a few extra minutes at lunch or may stay after closing time occasionally without requiring overtime" doesn't seem like a very fine needle to thread but he is absolutely incapable of threading it.
For *years and years* now he has used himself as an example of the right way to be "on time." He's told us about going to his job as a kid and getting there five minutes early every day just to prove to his boss that he really wanted the work.
Anyway, I just got a lecture on how I'm not supposed to clock in even a minute before my start time, nor am I to cut my lunch short, nor am I to stay late to finish things up; he wants me in here for eight hours a day *exactly* and is now so hell-bent on micromanaging everyone's start and end times that he was late to a client meeting earlier because he was looking over time sheets.
Sir, you have played stupid games and you have won stupid prizes. You should have just paid the techs their fucking overtime.
He's being so petulant about this and it's so fucking funny. None of us feel bad for you bro. You are wage theft georg and the spiders have come home to roost. It is very much worth the potential few dollars of time I'll lose each week to see you tie yourself up in knots about whether I stayed two minutes late on wednesday to answer a customer's question.
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autumn-hiraeth · 11 months
Note
Hi! How are you? I hope your day is going swell :)
Would I be able to request a Hobie x Fem!(if possible)Reader where Reader has anger issues? Like her and Hobie are almost opposites - he's chill all the time, she gets irritated at the smallest things - and Hobie has his own way of knowing when/subtly asking if she's getting annoyed.
Bonus if Miguel tells Reader to "get that anger under control" and Reader almost yells back, but manages to refrain and just says, "yes, sir." Hobie's just standing there, proud, planning on helping her relieve stress later in the bedroom <3
hi! 🧃I'm good. Hope you have a lovely day. also i hope you like it!! I really loved your req! <3
hobie brown x fem!reader
anger issues. fluff and slight smut at the end.
hobie's masterlist
a/n: headcanons about hobie being a good bf
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Anyone who knows you knows that you two are such opposites; Hobie being so cool all the whole time and chill;and you being tough and far from chill. But that works for you two, you and Hobie are the shining examples of "opposites attract" and both you and Hobie are happy with what you get. However, it's not a secret that you have anger issues, everyone in the spider society knows it and more than one has been a victim of your irritability. Even Hobie.
The first time you and Hobie met, you yelled at him 'cause he had almost let the anomaly go. "damn it, can't you take this seriously?!" "Guys like you think they can get away with just having a pretty face." However, your yelling had no effect on Hobie, actually it was quite the opposite, he seemed pleased. And instead of calling you crazy for yelling at him he mockingly muttered "oi! you think 'm handsome" and that made you yell at him again and Hobie was fascinated with you. And that eventually kind of ended with you and him being together.
Because of all the time hobie and you spend together; Hobie has his own way of knowing when you're annoyed, and he also knows how to calm you down.
Hobie figures out that physical contact is a key piece. You don't need someone else to be yelling, you just needs someone to support you, that let you know to make you feel that you're not alone. And Hobie Brown is that someone.
Hobie slowly moves towards you when you aren't yellin' as usual, he gently laid his head on your shoulder and takes your hand caressing your palm with his thumb. "are you annoyed luv?" he asks and you hum.
Hobie helps you how to control your anger and while it sometimes seems to work there are times when you just can't help but yell at anyone who has annoyed you. But you're improving, no one denies that.
Seems since you and Hobie have been together your attitude has begun to improve.
Miguel is a witness of how you have improved in managing your anger issues.
"Y/n, you need to keep your anger under control, this is the fifth time a local Spiderman has complained about your attitude" you and him have had this conversation hundreds of times that Miguel already knows what you'll yell.
" that's so? Well Miguel, I don't give a shit what--" You surprisingly take a long breath before saying "yes, sir" and not only that, you also smile at him!
Now Miguel can say that he has seen it all.
Hobie is so proud every time you manage your anger that he can't help but take you to his flat/canal boat and relieve that stress. You moan loudly as Hobie sucks your clit, his tongue piercing is driving you crazy, you wrap your legs around his pretty face and your hand push his face closer to your wet cunt. And Hobie would eat out you for hours, giving you all the relief you needed 'til you beg for his dick nicely. And he would give you anything you ask for because you've been such a good girl and he's so proud.
In conclusion, this is how Hobie helps you manage your anger issues.
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reticent-writer · 4 months
Note
Hi! Feel free to reject but can I get Lucifer having a male (or female if you feel more comfortable writing that) best friend that everyone pretty much assumes they are together? Like JD and Turk friendship from Scrubs.
Example in this video: https://youtu.be/lgeoL_QV3y0?si=aupEDU2dD98aBklr
Lucifer x male best friend reader
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✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
Lucifer is obviously JD in this situation
You used to be an angel untill Lucifer fell
U threw your halo off and fell through the clouds so he wouldn't be alone (even though he was there with lilth)
In hell you took on the roll of his assistant/advisor
You even lived with him and lilith
You like his other half
He cannot function with you and vise versa
Lilith couldn't believe that as straight as the two of you are completely gay for each other
When Charlie was born it was like she had 2 dads
"Y/N Y/N Y/N Y/N!" Lucifer came storming into your room, practically jumping out of his skin.
"WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT!" You matched his energy.
"CHARLIE INVITED ME TO THE HOTEL!" He squealed like a school girl.
"OH MY GOD! when?"
"In an hour.... We gotta get ready."
Que Lucifer and you rushing to look presentable (even though you already do)
-------
From the moment you two arrived at the hotel a certain spider demon took notice of your peculiar relationship.
You sat yourself at the bar along with mimzie.
"Soo you and the short guy fuckin'." Angel bluntly stated.
"Oh no no no. I'm straight. He's straight. But he's 100℅ mine." You explained.
"Oh like a bromance shorta thing, that's cute." Mimzie said while sipping on her drink.
"How long you two been together." Angel insist on considering you a couple.
"From the start."
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
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captainmera · 3 months
Note
Was evelyn ever ALMOST caught by witch hunters?
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I WROTE IT, BECAUSE DRAWING IT TAKES TOO LONG.
For some reason, I forgot I could just...... Write these little shorts with little illustrations alongside it, instead of drawing out the whole thing and it takes forever. So... here ya go! Two more little drawings beneath the cut with some text!
Roger growled through the gap amongst his ivory. He could not wrap his head around why his rival was standing there with bow and arrow, willing to.. What? Shoot him? For this woman. Barely a Christian woman, even. "What are you going to do?" Roger gestured at Caleb's homemade weaponry. "You're going to shoot me if I don't leave?" "Maybe." Caleb said, still not tensing the bow. "My brother's a real clever guy, he knows a lot about the body. Did you know that arterial bleeding is the most fatal?" "Uh-" "Looks the most accidental, too." Roger furrowed his brows. Caleb's brown eyes were void of warmth. "What are you saying?" "I'm saying I'm holding a bow. I'm saying I'm pretty good at using it. I'm saying I'm a woodsman, you're not. I'm saying that if I wanted to accidentally shoot you and hide your body, I could. And if you were discovered, it's an arrow in you, not an English pistol wound, or a knife. And nobody knows you were ever here." "...You're not serious." "You can always find out." "You're bluffing, I've never seen you use a bow and-" "Leave my property." Caleb repeated. "And if you are going to accuse my friend of witchcraft, you better have more than suggestive or spectral evidence." Roger glowered back, held his hands up in peace, and backed away. "Fine, I will." And left the way he came through the woods. Caleb waited until he couldn't see him any more, before locking the door and pulling the curtains. Roger had never liked Caleb, but before his rival took a break from witch hunting, Roger had at least had a competitors respect for the man. But respect turned to suspicion. Caleb had been acting strange for awhile... Glum and a lot more quiet. Then that woman showed up. And now the cove were against spectral evidences? Caleb had been the most frequent and outspoken about how witches found a lawful loophole by using supernatural means to get away with their crimes. As it was difficult to prove that a witch had tormented someone in their dreams, for example. And Roger agreed! Sure, Caleb was annoying, but they had both been amongst the best and the worst of hunters, being the same age only meant the two lads butted head to stay in their spot as head of a patrol. Being a witch hunter was a competitive sport, almost, it was hard to explain unless you participated. They were not friends, but Roger was sure if the roles had been reversed, Caleb would've been suspicious too and, honestly? Caleb would've tried to save Roger. It was just good sportsmanship. And this whole thing smelled wicked. Caleb turned to Evelyn. "Are you alright?" "I don't know.." She said and looked at her hands. Artemis had crawled out onto her shoulder to give her a comforting little spider hug. "My magic.. It didn't work." "What?" Caleb abandoned his bow by its place next to the backdoor. "It's not working?" "I don't- I was trying to make it work, he saw me. I'm sorry." Caleb lift her chin up. "Hey no, it's alright. Maybe.. You've just been here too long?" "No that's not it. I know it isn't." "Maybe you're ill?" She smiled up at the crease of worry on his forehead. He was trying to sound calm and proper, and she knew that tone of his. That rougher, almost demanding, serious tone. That tone he used with Philip and his friends when they were turning to him for leadership and give them orders - even if he was just as anxious as them.
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His eyes flickered away, noticing that she had caught him spiralling with worries. He shook his head to get out of it and straightened his back. "Are you ill?" He repeated with a softer tone "No, I dont think so." "Not witch-ill, human-ill?" "No... I don't have any symptoms." "Hm.." Caleb thought back at when she had visited him at his job. "Oh, was it the sprig of dill tea?" Evelyn's eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh right that did taste awful!" Caleb couldn't help but break out into a soft scoff. "Well, good to know that folktale is true." "Huh?" "It's said sprig of dill keeps witches and evil away. That's why we drink it at the morrow' meeting." Evelyn's lips pressed into a line, feeling a little silly that she had so readily accepted tea from a bunch of woodsmen-slash-witch hunters. Of course they would be drinking things like that out of superstition.
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"Right." She brushed her vest. Caleb snorted. "Stop it! I was afraid!" "Sorry, sorry. I'm sure it's only temporary." Evelyn looked at her hands. "You think so?" "Yeah. But.. Why don't you stay here, just in case, until it comes back. Yeah?" "Appreciated." "Of course." Evelyn swayed her skirt bashfully. "Caleb?" "Mh?" "Thank you." She pulled him in so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. "You've been my hero today." Caleb's limbs were full of pink and red butterflies. He laughed nervously and swatted his hand around in the air. "Oh! PFSH! O-Of course! I can't just- You're a maiden in distress! It's only the right thing-! Anytime, milady." And theatrically rolled his hand before bowing to her. And that got him in the right height for both of her hands to cup his face. "I think you deserve one more then." And kissed him on the side of his nose, his forehead, and when his smile spread his lips wide across his face, she kissed the dimple by his side. And that was enough. Caleb crumbled, and turned away from her with an incoherent sputtering of words. She smiled. Caleb put his face in his hands to cool, stroked them through his hair and coughed. "TEA?" He offered, gesturing at the stove. "Er- not, that tea, better tea." "Sure." And took a seat nearby him.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months
Text
The Woman He Didn't Choose 🌹
AU Bachelor Miguel O'Hara x Fem contestant reader
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Synopsis: You went on a dating show just for kicks and giggles but faceplant when Miguel is the Bachelor. You made the final two, but he didn't choose you. Angst ensues.
A/N: I started the new season of The Bachelor and it got me thinking, what if Miguel was The Bachelor 😏😏 and what if it ended badly??!! 😫🤗 I'm thinking of using this as a segue into a new series where it'd be like Bachelor in Paradise where you're a contestant along with Spider-Verse favs like Peter B. Ben, Felicia, MJ, Jess. And there could be a lotta smut 😇 and I might bring Miguel back somehow 🤭let me know what you think.😝
If you're unfamiliar with the TV show The Bachelor, usually the finale is aired live, and the live audience watches the footage of the proposal/rejection of the runner up together and then brings the contestants back out to interview them on stage. Here's an example of what I pictured in my head.. ALSO please listen to the song at the beginning it's literally the PERFECT break up song for Miguel. 😫 Word count 4.6k
DISCLAIMER: I have changed the name of the show for copyright purposes, I don't own or have rights to the TV show The Bachelor and all credit goes to the rightful owners.
TW: ANGST, BREAKUP, SELF DOUBT, GASLIGHTING, INSECURITY, JEALOUSY, MENTIONS CYBER BULLYING ,MENTION OF SEX BUT NO SMUT, DESCRIPTION OF TWO PEOPLE MAKING OUT
Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
The camera pans to you sitting on a green velvet chaise lounge upon a sleek, reflective stage. Your legs were crossed at the ankles, red bottoms peeking out of the slit of the elegant black evening gown you wore.
Your lips were in a pout, trembling as they threatened to give way to a spill of tears that would fall in a neverending cascade down your cheeks. 
You were being made to watch the most horrific heartbreak of your life played back on live television.
Having Miguel look into your eyes mid thrust when the cameras were off and he was on top of you in the Fairytale Suites in Thailand and whisper,
 "I love you....I think you're the one....",
watch you walk down a sandy beach clad in a flowy pink dress that cost $60k and stand in front of peaceful cerulean waters, hands entertwined, look you in the eyes and proclaim in a shaky voice, 
"I feel stronger love for Xina...," was the unforgiving papercut, and being pinned underneath the relentless barrage of scrutiny, hatred, and criticism from the viewers was the lemon juice being poured on top of it. 
You watched yourself on the screen sob as you got into the backseat of the black Escalade as Miguel grimly shut the door behind you. You were taking deep, shaky breaths and leaning on your elbow as you tried to make sense of this profound stab wound he just gave you. Your reddened, teary eyes looked at the camera as your confessional.  
"I.....I don't know what just happened...." You rub your temple and look out the window, your lip trembling and your face scrunching in agony. "The craziest part of all of this is....I still love him...." 
A hushed, sympathetic awh emerges from the live audience. 
You leaned over and cradled your head in your hands in frustration as the black suburban continued to drive. 
"I just.... *shaky breath* wanna.....*choked sob*... be happy...when is it my turn to be happy...?" you break down as the screen fades again to black. This time focusing on you, perched on the chaise lounge onstage. The heartbroken woman Miguel did not choose for his wife. 
The tall host, Jason Donner, is sitting across from you in a black armchair. He has neatly groomed, sandy blonde hair and stubble dotting his square jaw and white, pearly teeth. He looks at you, green eyes in a solemn expressesion. He addresses you, and then the audience in a quiet voice. 
"Wow...that was...truly..... one of the most heartbreaking moments we've seen, I think in all of The Eligible Suitor Nation's history..." 
He says your name quietly, then continues, "Now I am, so, so incredibly sorry that this did not have the happy ending you were hoping for..." 
You're not looking at him but staring off, sad eyes still in a doe-like expression, a tear has escaped your left eye and is trickling down your cheek, followed shortly thereafter by another from your right. 
Jason continues, "Tell me...what are your thoughts as you watch that playback for the first time?" He pauses to hear your answer. 
You stay silent for the longest moment, then you finally break your statue-like gaze and take a deep breath, looking down at a spot on the floor so the audience's piercing stares don't throw off your train of thought.
You suddenly feel a rise of anger and frustration in your chest. What kind of question is that? How do you think I'm supposed to feel? 
You try and keep it cool, the chains of the hefty NDA contract you signed to be on this show keeping you on your best behavior tonight. 
"It feels.....awful, Jason." You look at him, and shrug your shoulders. "I really don't have words for it besides that. It feels awful to watch that." 
Jason nods and leans forward, bringing his fingers  to his mouth in a contemplative manner. "How did it feel when he said Xina was the one, I mean did you see this coming at all?" 
You let out a deep sigh and can't help but roll your eyes a little bit. "No..... no, I did not see this coming, Jason, okay?" You say in an exasperated tone, your words edged with annoyance. "You know what..." 
You stand up, shaking your head. "I can't do this." You rip off your body mic and throw it on your seat. "I can't fucking do this...." You gather up your dress train and carefully walk down the steps of the stage and briskly off the set towards your dressing room, sharp heels echoing as they hit the floor, letting out a large sob as soon as you're out of view, one of the cameramen chasing after you. 
Jason looks at the camera a little mortified by your sudden reaction, but the camera crew and producers are silently rubbing their hands together, the promise of high ratings clouding their vision like stars in their eyes. That's it, bring on the drama. You were delivering tonight. 
Jason clears his throat and flashes a smile at the camera. "Don't worry folks, this has all happened before..." 
The audience gives a nervous chuckle. 
"We'll give her a moment. But just remember, you'll get to catch her again on the beaches of paradise where other hot members of The Eligible Suitor Nation such as the likes of Ben Reilly, *audience cheers* , Felicia Hardy, *audience cheers*, and Peter B....*audience goes nuts* will have a second shot at love in our steamy Singles in Paradise, premiering this summer." 
Jason smiles and raises his voice a little more to be heard over the squeals of the fans. 
"We'll take a quick break but when we come back we'll hear Miguel's side of the story, and, a little later the happy couple will be making their grand debut for the first time in public since their romantic engagement in Thailand, which you'll need to see to believe. I must warn you all, it was probably one of the most romantic proposals we've seen in the show's history. Don't go anywhere folks."
🌹🌹🌹
In the beginning, your friend jokingly submitted an application for you to be on the show after you wouldn't stop bitching about your ex. She reassured you when you freaked out at the email you got from production, confirming your application was accepted. 
"This will be good for you! Even if you don't marry the guy, at least you can get famous and have fun, be on TV for a little bit, get some free alcohol, maybe a nice date or two, yanno? Besides, you'll have a whole new roster of guys at your doorstep after they see your hot ass on television." 
You were still upset until she gave you a list of reasons not to be. Sure, this could be fun, you eventually concluded. You only had a 1 out of 30 chance of winning anyway, why turn a blind eye to the possibilities that could come out of this? 
When Miguel was announced as the eligible man you were going to be fighting for, you quit breathing when you saw how handsome he was. Tall, dark, a little stoic, a little nerdy, wants a family? He was literally pulled directly from your wildest imagination. 
You were intimidated by how attracted to him you found yourself, but you decided when you stepped out of that limo, that you were going to keep your walls up and just enjoy the ride. You greeted him with a shy smile. 
The producers had this weird idea to play up the dramatics that you were supposed to walk in with a bunch of fake autumn leaves from the craft store and throw them in the air and proclaim you're "falling" for him as your signature greeting. 
You walked up to Miguel as he stood in front of the mansion, wearing a poker face. You threw the leaves in the air and one of them flew and smacked him in the face. 
"Ppppppbbbbbbtttfffhh!" 
You said the cheesy ass line, "I'm falling for you Miguel! Geddit?" 
"The shock?...." Miguel gave you a confused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. 
"Well, I'm from a small town, we're kinda known for our fall colors during the season." You say with a smile. You brushed one of the stray leaves off his shoulder. "I just want you to know I'm very excited for this journey and I can't wait to talk to you more when we go inside?" 
After the initial obnoxiousness of your introduction Miguel managed to put on a polite smile. "Absolutely," he answered. "we'll talk more inside. Thank you for coming." 
You gave his hands a squeeze and walked down a stone path into the large Tuscany style mansion, Miguel's eyes lingering on your figure for just one more moment before he let out a deep sigh. 
🌹🌹🌹
When you started out on the show with 29 other women, you managed to keep a low profile for several weeks, staying out of trouble and befriending most of them, even becoming a fan favorite. Tweets sent out every week with a hashtag in front of your name in support, and constantly ranking in the top 10 favorite contestants in the fan polls on social media. But, it never occurred to you that you had a real shot until, on week 3, a date card with your name on it made its way into the mansion.
Your master plan of just 15 minutes of fame quickly morphed into a life or death situation for your heart when you went on that amazing first date with Miguel to see your all time favorite rock band: Goo Goo Dolls. They played Iris and brought you on stage in front of everyone. You slow danced as the song played, and he leaned in close, softly singing the lyrics in your ear, dedicating the whole thing to you. 
"You're the closest to heaven, that I'll ever be and I don't wanna go home right now. And all I can taste is this moment. And all I can breathe is your life. And sooner or later it's over. I just don't wanna miss you tonight..."
And if the whole scene couldn't get any more romantic, a delicate shower of rain began to fall, and you and Miguel shared your first kiss which quickly snowballed into a makeout session on live TV.
Ever since that date, you became one of his favorites. Sometimes you swore he would look for you first as he entered a room. His eyes scanning urgently until they came to rest on you where they would linger for just a moment. Scarlet eyes that seemed to bleed only for you. 
A language only you two could understand, before he'd gently look away, not wanting to give away his undeniable pull towards you in a crowd of many. 
In between dates, you'd send little tokens to him through the producers like a sticky note that said "thinking of you..." or your favorite dad jokes. He'd read them with a smile and have them respond for him in the form of small Hershey's kisses or a sticky note that said in his messy handwriting,"couldn't stop thinking about you, either"
You'd giggle on top of cloud nine when he'd answer you back and you hid them quietly in your suitcase, not telling a soul. 
Watching him kiss and date other women was much, much more difficult than you expected. Sometimes the way he'd look at one of the other girls would cause you to want to throw in the towel right then and there. 
When you heard that he had kissed them, you couldn't get that mental image out of your mind, much less when you unfortunately witnessed it with your own eyes at one of the pre-elimination ceremony cocktail hours. 
The way she was straddling his lap, making herself look so small in it....the way he was groaning into her mouth, the sounds their lips were making as they moved against each together, letting his hands wander down her back and come to rest on her ass...
The painful sting of jealousy was so unbearable that you just ran away, tears burning hot down your cheeks until you could lock yourself in the bathroom and just settle in a heap on the floor, hand clasped around your mouth so nobody could hear you cry. 
It was so fucking unfair. You couldn't even be upset because this was what you signed up for. You thought you had a fairly strong grip on your self worth when you started the show, but every day tested you more than you ever thought possible. 
You spent hours every morning getting ready with your hair, makeup, and outfits, walking out with your chest high, only to see the way one of the other women's hair just fell so flawlessly or how she barely needed any makeup to look perfect, or how her body just looked way hotter than yours in her tight dress,  causing it to deflate once again. 
But those moments when you finally had him all to yourself felt like you were the only woman in his world. Miguel knew just the right words to hum into your ear and just the right way to touch you with his fingertips. There was no place on Earth like his arms. His heartbeat was a lullaby that could calm you like nothing else. He was making you fall rapidly like no other man from your past could. You buried your head in the sand, taking his words at face value, foolishly believing that he wasn't repeating the exact same thing to everyone else. 
You took the sweet nothings he'd whisper to you and make it gospel. Speeding naively down a road that lead to a dead end of disappointment. Week after week, as the show's episodes aired, the illusion you built yourself crumbled. Words you thought he conjured up just for you reduced to the punchline of some sick undercover joke as he turned around and repeated them to the next woman. 
Realizing the walls of the house you lived in were made out of porcelain. The stone of his betrayal knocking it to pieces. The curtains peeling back revealing layer after layer, causing your mind to go mad with self doubt, not even sure if you knew this man who you uprooted your life for and handed your dignity and heart over to on a silver platter.
 Who was this man who sang those sweet lyrics in my ear while we slow danced like we were straight out of a movie? Who was this man who I followed to the ends of the Earth, made a fool out of myself on live television for? You felt a deep pit in your stomach after every episode. 
Not only did you have to contend with the troubling confusion that this man who you thought you loved wasn't who he said he was, you had to deal with the fact that the show's production was now trying to twist your character for the sake of drama. 
You noticed that things you said were taken out of context and edited as spicy sound bites, painting you as this drama queen and passive aggressive trouble maker in the house. You sort of became their selected agent of chaos once the other firecrackers eventually got eliminated and needed someone new to fill in the villain's shoes. 
You watched the episodes play back with a puzzled look on your face. You knew what you said, you went on the dates, you heard the words that were being spoken, you kissed the man, you gave your body to him, and yet, everything you thought you knew was being challenged before your very eyes. Piecing together two separate versions of him that lived in your head. You thought you were slowly going insane. 
When it eventually came down to you and Xina as the final two for Miguel to choose from, Xina was the soft spoken, drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent, cookie-cutter, Christian sweetheart that every man could hope to bring home to meet his mother. 
Conchata and Gabe took an immediate liking to her during the meet the parents episode right before the finale. During hometown visits, Xina's parents were an endearing couple who had been married for 30+ years who she had an amazing relationship with. If you had to lose Miguel to any woman, then of course it would have been her. 
Meanwhile, you were the framed "bad girl" with tattoos and a cursing habit. You were a little more open about your sexuality, making crass jokes with the other women in the house. You'd definitely burn up if you were to enter a church. At hometowns, your home life was comparatively messier to Xina's with divorced parents and an absent father. 
Your mom and siblings met Miguel and loved him immediately, of course. Every week as the show aired and drew closer to the finale, you had to endure seeing endless tweets and memes putting you down. Lots of older women calling you a whore, saying you're trouble and telling Miguel to run for the hills while lifting up Xina at your expense. 
Conchata disliked you instantly. She raised an eyebrow at your top that was slightly too low cut, and your thigh tattoo that peeked out a little under your skirt. At least Gabe thought you were cool, but you remember how nervous you were sitting through filming when Conchata was grilling you on the patio outside the luxurious suite she was staying in.
"How do you feel about my son?"  She asked, silently giving you a test you were unaware you were taking. 
You paused for a moment. "Well... I love your son, ma'am. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him." 
Conchata raised an eyebrow. "But do you even know him? You've only been dating him for a few weeks. I know him better than anyone as his mother, and it seems as though he's made really strong connections with some of the other women." 
You tried to shrug off the knot in your tummy her words just left you. "Well...I do, Mrs. O'Hara. He makes me feel special every time I see him. He and I communicate really well and always check in with one another. He has everything I'm looking for in a life partner: strong willed, calm, kind, hard working, intelligent...he makes me happy and I would be honored if he chose me." 
Conchata didn't react, just tightened her lips in a straight line and took another sip of wine. "I see...well, I'm glad that you feel that way and you take such an interest in my son. But, do you honestly see him choosing you at the end of all of this?"
You feel your gut clench again at her question, anger, confusion, insecurity rising within you all at once, but you manage to fake a smile and say, "Well, I can see him as my husband, and I want him to choose me. But, it's ultimately his decision alone. All I can do is hope for the best."
Conchata clicks her teeth and gives you a fake smile. "Indeed...that's all you can do, right?" She stands up. "It was lovely chatting with you."
She already turns to leave before you can muster out a weak, "you too..." 
🌹🌹🌹
Now, tonight on the live season finale, your head was in your hands, with your ears covered like a small child in your dressing room, trying to drown out the sound of the crowd cheering hysterically as Miguel walked up on stage, shaking hands with Jason and sitting on the couch. You heard another loud, lasting round of applause from the audience as Xina eventually walked out joining him. 
You finally felt brave enough to walk back outside and watch the scene from one of the screens backstage, but once you walked up to see it closer you immediately wish you just stayed curled in a ball in your dressing room. 
Xina looked so perfect next to Miguel. Her raven hair fell in soft layers just past her shoulders leaning against him with a hand on his thigh and one of his hands tenderly holding onto the side of her hip, nearly resting on her ass. A gorgeous, dainty solitaire diamond on her ring finger on her left hand. 
Miguel was looking at her through love-blown pupils as she spoke in her quiet, low, sultry voice, the grin on his face widening even more when her lovely dark eyes came to rest on him between sentences. They were in love. And he was happy. She was happy. There was no denying that now that you forced yourself to see it with your own eyes. Who were you to stand in their way of being together, if they were building a life together they both equally wanted....right? 
Even if your heart technically was the collateral damage.
You couldn't pull your gaze away at how perfect they looked. But simultaneously couldn't comprehend how the same man sitting next to her was the one who sang you that song. The same one who took you on a carriage ride in Scotland. The same one who would wink at you after he'd give you a rose at each elimination ceremony. The same one who held you while you began to cry about missing your dad, a shared pain between you two that you could bond over, the same one who spent all night taking his time on you in a dim hotel room in Thailand and told you that you're the one, all for him to suddenly flip overnight and choose her instead. 
You felt like you couldn't watch anymore and just walked back into your dressing room, quickly packing your suitcase, wondering if it was too late to cancel your flight tomorrow and just hope there was room on the red eye flight tonight instead. Wishing you could fast forward time to a place where the sound of his name would no longer feel like a million knives cutting into you. 
🌹🌹🌹
Some time later, a soft knock comes at your door. Before you can ask who it is, he's already walking in and you feel sick to your stomach, the sounds of his footfalls a not too distant memory that you could still distinguish as his. You try to wipe your eyes, not daring to turn around. 
"What is it?" You ask in a flat tone as you resume folding your clothes and squeezing them into your suitcase that threatened to overflow. 
Miguel is looking at you with a sorrowful expression. "I need to apologize to you..." 
"I don't want to hear it." 
"Please..." he begs, walking up to you so you can nearly feel his breath on the back of your neck. 
You turn and face him and his lips part a little bit when he sees how much hurt you're in. He goes to cup your face but you swat his hand away and walk to the other side of the room instead. 
Miguel clenches his fist and closes his eyes. 
"At least tell me you'll be alright..." 
"-oh I'll be fine." You say firmly, crossing your arms. "I've lived without you before, and I'll figure out how to do it again." 
Miguel looks at you with a sad expression. It hurt him to think you actually wanted a life without him in it, but he couldn't blame you. He got what he wanted. He chose the woman he loved the most, and this was the consequence. But deep down he's too selfish to think about you moving on. 
Was it his ego? Was he really prepared to let you go for good? Were his feelings for Xina exaggerated and rather clouded by the whole fairytale notion and weak logic of finding a forever companion on a reality game show? 
He couldn't have his cake and eat it too. He knew he had to let you go. He knew you didn't want an apology, you didn't want to hear a sob story or excuses or false hope that you would always have a piece of his heart, even if it was true deep down. He thought carefully for a moment, then he finally said in a soft voice,
"For what it's worth, I really do wish you the best..."
You look at him. And, just for a moment those lingering feelings you tried so hard to bury make themselves known as he's wearing a look on his face you haven't seen since he was still in love with you. 
Tears threaten your composure again and you quickly turn around, gazing upwards in hopes of keeping them in. "Don't do that..." you say in a near whisper. 
Miguel responds in an equally hushed tone, the tension much more palpable. "Do what....?"
"Look at me that way...." The tears are flowing and you know you need to wrap this up now before you or him say something you'll regret. 
"You're looking at me the same way you look at her..." 
A lump forms in Miguel's throat because he realizes he really does still love you. But he loves Xina too. He made a choice and a commitment to her and it was time to see it through. But that didn't make this farewell any easier. He whispers your name again and you shake your head. 
"I'm fine. I'll be fine. I promise." You give him a weak smile as the tears blur your vision. He takes a step towards you but you shake your head quickly, shifting past him to grab your suitcase. 
He closes his eyes in defeat and tenses his jaw, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. 
You hobble past him with your heavy suitcase, struggling to carry it in your heels. You prop open the door and look back at him one more time and he looks at you, giving you a weak smile. You nod, and your anger subsides for just a moment. "I meant what I said...you know...before..." 
Miguel's chest rises and falls. You don't have to elaborate for him to understand. He still remembers the hidden way you two used to communicate, even if this may be the last time he ever does. 
"Thank you..." he says gently, meaning it. 
You swiftly turn your head, pulling up the handle on your luggage and gather your dress in your free hand as the door softly clicks behind you. You make sure you're out of earshot before you break down crying again. 
As your flight coasts gently through the midnight sky, you lean against your window as though it was Miguel, or at least the version of him that lived in your memory. You close your eyes this time, the distant glow of the moon outside lulling you and beckoning you to a place where your thoughts can't torment you at last, succumbing to a well-deserved rest. 
Miguel stands in his hotel room, gazing at the cityscape outline in the distance, the same moon standing watch in the obsidian skies above. Xina gently calls for him and he turns around and gives her a tired smile as he crawls in bed next to her and holds her close. He shuts off the beside lamp. His mind quickly shakes off the memory of the color of your eyes before he drifts asleep. 
🌹🌹🌹
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“Life after Death,” Scarlet Spider (Vol. 2/2012), #1.
Writer: Christopher Yost; Penciler : Ryan Stegman; Inker: Michael Babinsky; Colorist: Marte Garcia; Letterer: Joe Caramagna
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