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#im going to protect that
spoonsforminutes · 1 year
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Medical Ableism
As someone who has extensive personal experience with medical ableism from both physical and mental health professions, I wish more people realized that ableism (and really all -ism ideologies) are a systemic issue reflected in individuals and has no real inherent bearing on morality. What makes medical ableism so vile is the fact that the U.S. is a country in which people refuse to confront the uncomfortable beliefs of the past and present, and the fact that people confuse personal ego and professional knowledge as the same thing. Specifically more so in therapy, it is a therapist’s responsibility to mitigate conversations with their clients in a safe and beneficial way that addresses their concerns, and although seen more in good therapists, medical professionals should feel encouraged to discuss personal examples of trauma without trying to control the client’s own narrative. I don’t know why this is so hard for medical professionals because when someone is trusting their life in your hands, my own opinions always come second place to validated research. Plus I don’t know, my personal trauma failed to develop and secure a personal identity for myself, but I have always spent my time learning about and expanding my own worldview. And it’s super funny going through medical healthcare courses in college as someone with an invisible disability because you really learn that no matter who are--either an old white guy retired from his medical career or a woman in cancer remission trying to teach young med professionals that patients need to have compassion for their illness--you find out pretty quickly that the U.S. healthcare system only sees fatal/terminal illnesses, temporary illness/conditions in which full recovery is expected, or mental health (only addressed by mental health professionals).
Neuroscience and cognitive science truly is such a good major to have when heading into medical school because it’s the best of both worlds in terms of psychology and biology with the added bonus to explore linguistics, computation, and philosophy. I am incredibly privileged to have gotten such an education and to use it to really expand all aspects of my understanding. I specifically perform research on my own disability and gender identity, so I’m already on this battlefield. I am in the trenches, but even more so, I see the people who face the same struggles as me, and I think, “well, im used to pain and trauma; let me step in front and take the first bullet.” I don’t think true social activism is ever a choice; it feels like I walked head-first down that path, and whenever things get in my way, I double-down on everything I know I am and what I believe. This is where my gender identity really helps because both masculinity and femininity where used against me whenever I stood up for myself, so when people misgender me, it fills me with a little bit of glee because I think “good, go ahead and underestimate me.” It’s very clear that even with top surgery, my trauma-strained voice affirms my assigned sex which is incredibly dysphoric, but I’m working on it for me and my personal happiness. Until then, my voice is no excuse. Transphobia literally lives in the spaces of what is deemed acceptable queerness and the assumptions about its visibility. The traditional sex binary model will always spurn transphobia until society realizes that “male” and “female” sex simply don’t exist and are a heuristic that was never meant to be taken literally, but the history of sexism and racism in medical science has perpetuated this idea that inherent differences exist between people that would support bigots and discrimination. 
I don’t think morality is something that anyone can possess permanently because it relies on both words and actions; you do not just get claim you’re a good person and then do whatever the fuck you want. Being a good person means respecting both yourself and others, and ultimately, wanting to see a future where you and the people who influence your life (whether you know it or not) can live free and happy and SAFE.
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no thoughts, just percy's face when he realizes that no sacrifice he could make can protect annabeth from herself
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 29
Dont get him wrong, Danny had some big feelings about finding out his mom had cheated on his dad. He had even bigger feeling about the divorce and the whole shipping him off to live with his bio dad.
He wasn't going to lie. The new school was actually really nice and he had made friends quickly, though at first it was tough to weed out the ones who just wanted to get close to the Wayne family name and not him as a person. He didn't get to chat with Tucker and Sam a whole lot due to thier schedules but he and Jazz always made time for eachother.
His life had surprisingly taken a massive upturn. Vlad had been arrested soon after Danny warned the Waynes about him, making Danny believe either his dad it felt wierd calling him that but da-Jack made it perfectly clear he should never call him that was Batmans sugar daddy or somthing or maybe the Waynes got kidnapped so much that the bats bugged the whole place. Danny hoped not, he had done a whole karaoke thing with Jazz during thier video call the other night and he really didn't want anyone to hear thier shared cat screeching.
Jazz was super happy to learn Danny had joined the Volleyball team and Astronomy club. He used to play Volleyball in middle school and played defense a lot. He was even the best on the team but he stopped playing after one too many times of his parents forgetting to show up or causing a ruckus whenever they thought a ghost was nearby.
But it was better now
The portals were shut down by the bats. The GIW where expertly obliterated from existence. His parents are getting court mandated mental help. There are no more ghosts. No more ghost hunters.
And no need for Phantom
Danny doesn't think he's ever felt this free. He could go out to eat with friends with his way too big allowance that his...dad gives him and he didn't have to worry about having to ditch them to go fight a bad guy. He could eat dinner with a family who was a little awkward but surprisingly open to him and the food was delicious and didn't attack him. He could actually sleep at night and feel safe doing it. His siblings liked spending time with him and getting to learn anout him and thier "bonus sister" Jazz.
He had no reason to use his powers.
Until the grandfather clock he was walking past swung open like a door and he locked eyes with Nightwing coming out of it. They just stared at eachother before Danny just said, "I don't want to know which one your dating. Just know I have a bat and im willing to use it in the most ungodly of ways." And walked back to his room.
He wouldn't be a superhero, but he was willing to be a supervillian to protect his new family. Or in this case make sure Nightwing, a rumored playboy, knew better than to go breaking hearts in this household.
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daisy-mooon · 6 months
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Behind the jokes and badassness, Captain Marvel is a fascinating character to me, because of how death follows her.
She causes an explosion. That explosion, which gives her powers and her immortality, canonically kills her. The Kree Empire resurrects her and makes her as Kree as they can. She shares Yon-Rogg's blood and his life, she's his creation, she's his victim, she's the one who causes his downfall, she's the one that destroys the system, the society, the planet that allowed her to be abused.
It's the Kree that see her as a killer and Annihilator. She's a monster of their own making, but it influences every species and planet she touches. Her victories cause death and her mistakes cause more death. Carol's triumph, the death of the Supreme Intelligence, results in the death of probably millions of Kree, and by consequence, almost causes the death of Hala's star.
"I'm only human" Carol says, before killing the Empire that is the reason that she can't ever be human again.
"We'll be back for the weapon," Ronan says, but that weapon will kill everything he stands for.
"Your life began the day it nearly ended," The Supreme Intelligence says, coldly, calculatingly. It's an AI. It doesn't have a good concept of death. It doesn't fully grasp that Carol had genuinely been killed that day, because she's still in front of it. Carol kills it.
"Death seems to follow you," Dar-Benn says, before she causes an explosion with the bangles, trying to defeat Carol. The explosion kills Dar-Benn.
Death follows Carol. Death follows Carol! Mar-Vell is dead. Maria is dead. Talos is dead. Soren is dead. Ronan is dead. Minn-Erva is dead. Korath is dead. Dar-Benn is dead. Yon-Rogg is, probably, dead. The Supreme Intelligence is dead. Natasha is dead. Tony is dead.
The only people in Carol's life who aren't dead are Kamala, Monica, Yan, Valkyrie, and Fury.
She watches helplessly as Dar-Benn almost murders Kamala after Kamala tries to save Dar-Benn's life, tries to find a way to solve the violence without death.
She watches helplessly as Monica gets torn into another reality, which for all she knows, she could die in. The tear in reality that was caused by Dar-Benn's death.
She tries to hide Yan's existence from her friends and tries to warn him and his people. The Kree soldiers aren't fighting to maim, they're fighting to kill. He escapes death by his own fighting skills and the fact that the Kree would rather focus on killing Carol than him.
Valkyrie and Carol interact once, and she only calls when she needs help after a fight, not during. Think about it. Valkyrie and the Bifrost could have helped the trio enormously. But Carol doesn't call until the fights are over. It would be very easy for a regular Asgardian warrior to die compared to superhumans.
And Fury... have you seen how often Fury comes close to dying? He's alive from skill and luck. He is lucky that he isn't dead.
Captain Marvel is so, so fascinating. Her story begins with her own death, and the more it goes on, the more death happens around her. Nobody is safe. She causes almost all of them, even the ones of her friends - not directly, but through the consequences of her actions. The consequences of her victories and mistakes. The consequences of her anger and revenge, her power and powerlessness. It is caused by both the Human and Kree sides of her, by both Carol and Vers, Captain Marvel and the Annihilator.
Carol is immortal. She can't die. And death follows her anyway.
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yardsards · 2 years
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the owl house really said "familial love is stored in a gifted garment"
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EDIT: forgot one! thanks @cat-eared-exam-taker
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#eliot posts#toh#the owl house#i was on the fence abt including either of the examples w amity and the twins#(esp the concealment stones bc idk if they even count as garments)#but i figured in both cases helping her be gay and do crimes is very much a form of affection from them even if less soft than the others#eda clawthorne#luz noceda#emira blight#edric blight#amity blight#darius toh#hunter toh#king clawthorne#alador blight#i want dadrius to get hunter a new cloak SO BAD#ive mentioned it before but i always go wild when stuff like this happens in fiction#bc i've always loved lending my jackets/shawls/scarves/hats/gloves to my irl friends#makes me feel like im protecting them and keeping them safe#and i knit and sometimes sew so p much all of my irl friends have AT LEAST gotten a hat#but i made of of them a long forest green cloak which he loved#it always makes me feel SO WARM INSIDE when i see someone wearing something i made them#but even seeing them wear things like friendship bracelets kinda makes me feel that way#i like having kinda made my mark on them even when not keeping them warm/covering them#not in a possessive ''show everyone that you're mine!'' way. none of it visibly ties back to me#(except in hs when i'd lend them my letterman's jacket w my surname on it)#but i know it's from me and they know it's from me and they chose to put that onto themself#my love language is acts of service and that's what i'm doing when i make someth handmade or lend em someth practical#but they can recieve it as gift-giving or a stand-in for physical affection. which both VERY MUCH do not come naturally to me
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kitconnor · 10 months
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"I'm bi, actually. And so what?"
KIT CONNOR as NICK NELSON Heartstopper (2022—)
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redysetdare · 5 months
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I'm an "AroAce Stereotype" I'm Romance averse/Repulsed> I'm Sex repulsed I'm non-partnering I hate the idea of marriage in all forms I don't want a QPR at all I'm loveless I'm someone who gets uncomfortable at sexual talk and sex jokes I'm someone who often has innuendos or sexual concept fly over my head. I'm someone who can't tell when someone is flirting with me I'm someone who can't pick up on romantic or sexual tension I'm someone who finds "shipping" to be annoying I'm someone who says "They just seem like friends to me" I'm someone who believed that attraction could be turned on or off I'm someone who can't make sense of romance at all and cant figure out what makes it different from every other relationship. I'm someone who thinks romance is stupid and sex is gross and I don't understand the big deal everyone makes about it I'm someone who never was upset to find out I was AroAce but rather relieved as I have a genuine fear of being stuck in a romantic relationship that i do not want. In all cases I am not an AroAce who can be considered "normal" by the standards of allo society.
I'm not just a stereotype for you to shit on. I'm not the reason aphobes are aphobic I'm not a problem that you need to erase and refute to be accepted by allos. I'm not an experience that you and ignore as "not really how aspec people are" just because You are not part of it. Stop leaving us behind. Stop throwing us under the bus. We deserve support too. We deserve to not be demonized and shunned because we're an "stereotype". We are not the problem. We are not a problem to be fixed. start fighting aphobes on their logic instead of trying to make up for our existence.
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plush-rabbit · 3 months
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Adam Dating Headcanons
I love him sm and I hate that it's him!! Why couldn't be like Lucifer or something!!
Angel:
With his status as the “First Man”, Adam can get away with most things. In doing so, he has you with him at all times. Takes you everywhere like a pampered pet. If someone comments about you, he’s hyping you up. He’s telling everyone how you’re just so hot, and you give the best kisses, and how you tempt him constantly. You’re all that he can talk about. It’s him bragging about how great you are, and of course, you're great. He deserves all the finer things that angelhood has to offer. You’re an added bonus. Someone so cute and hot. 
He’s crass with everyone, and you are no exception to this. He’ll throw our swears, and phrases that are demeaning. He’ll use awful pet names that have your ears burning, and s scowl twisting at your lips. A part of you believes that he only continues to call you such things to see your reaction. His crude nature is public for all to see and bear witness to. He has no issue telling others the filthiest things that you two have done, and where you’ve done them. He only slows down when you swat at him, your face burning and hidden into his arm, pulling at the cloth for him to stop. His grin is sharp, and for the few times in his life, he takes pity, and he gives you mercy, letting the words come to a sudden halt, about how only he should be privy to just how perverse you can be. 
There are times where he’s just a jerk. Flat out mean, and cruel towards others and towards you.. It never lasts long, it’s more like it’s just second nature to him to know that he’s above everyone else, so he doesn’t have to play nice with others. He’ll snarl and when an angel clings to his robes with stars in their eyes about meeting him, all he can think about is how he has to be somewhere that isn’t there and they’re dirtying his robes. You’ve been on the receiving end a few times, and everytime you give him a certain look. He isn’t one to say sorry without being nudged into it, but he’ll lift his shoulders as if to hide himself, and he’ll mumble something close to an apology, and when you look away from him, he’ll hold your hand. He didn’t mean to snap at you- he thought you were someone else, and you know how it is. When you do take it personal, he still won’t tell you a proper apology, but he will wrap his arms around you and his mask will nudge itself along the crook of your neck, soft words spoken that won’t be heard for a long while.
It’s rumored around Heaven about the past wives of Adam- how they both fell for Lucifer, how they were Adam’s but they left him. He complains about it, grumbling under his breath about the fallen angel, about Lilith and Eve, and there’s this underlining of hurt in his voice. Everytime that you see him without his robe, he almost always has his side turned away from you, a hand curving just under his chest. And maybe because of the betrayal, he’s so attached to you. He wants you around him. He needs you around him. Far more than he would ever like to admit, he can’t- and he hates to even give it thought- he doesn't think he could stand another betrayal like that. So he’s attached to the hip with you. He’ll call you constantly, he’ll want to go everywhere with you. He just wants to be near you. 
While he may have his moments where he’ll whisper honeyed words to you, or give you bouquets of flowers, Adam expresses himself through touch. When the two of you go out, he’ll hold your hand, and if he can get away with it, he’ll tuck his hand over your bum. He’ll put his arm over your shoulders, letting his fingers graze over your chest, and keep you tucked underneath him. His wings are massive, soft to the touch and blinding in the sun, shimmering with gold and snowy white feathers, and while they can be heavy to hold them against his back, he’ll curve them around you, pulling you close to him when others cannot see. You’re protected underneath the gold, and he adores how you always reach out to touch them, to smooth at any stray feathers that bristle when he surrounds you. He needs to be touching you- he has to. In private, he’ll hold your hand and trace over yours with his claws. He’s never been so gentle with someone, he’s pulled apart sinners and covered himself in blood and gore, he’s vile and cruel, but he holds your hand so tenderly, and for a moment, he’s forgotten he’s Adam, First Man, and at that moment, he’s a man, holding an angel’s hand in his calloused claws.
Sinner:
Adam likes to joke that Extermination Day is the best thing to ever happen to you since it’s what allowed you to meet him. Plus, the added bonus is that now you’re protected and you won’t die. Probably. If you listen to what he says. But even then, he always makes sure to keep an eye out for you- hunting near your hiding spot, shooing away any of the other exterminators. It’s a win all around, really. At first, he’d have the two of you meet at the Heaven Embassy in Hell. However, it proved to be suspicious when other angels would question and even his own lies were starting to fall apart. He could always tell them he needed a break from all the singing and pure-hearted delight in Heaven, but he knows that he would have others follow him, peeking into something personal. So, he’s commissioned a new mask, and he’ll ditch his holy robes for something more Hell-esque to visit you.
You’re aware of his feelings towards demon folk, and walking hand-in-hand with him in the very place where he creates destruction, makes you feel like a traitor. You can tell that he's disgusted by everything- the gore and deaths, the rotten stench of meat coming from the Cannibal District. The rottenness of Hell has acid burning his tongue, but when you pull him towards a vendor on the street, he can hold his tongue. He gets to see you, and that’s enough for him. He holds no power in Hell. He could, and while he’s sure he could handle a few of the Hellborn and Sinners, you would be at risk. So any amount of disrespect has him biting his tongue and keeping you close to him. It’s infuriating to know he has to spend his time locked in your apartment, eating takeout- or on the lucky occasion your home cooked meals- and hiding away with you. He wants to show you off. He wants to be showed off. But, you sit beside him, and tap against his horns with an impish smile as you hold a forkful of food near his lips. 
He may never admit it, but he likes staying indoors with you. For those few hours, where you cook and you nap together, and you kiss him earnestly and with want, he can slip into the illusion that this is his norm. It’s vanilla- so much so that if it were any other time or place, he’d be sick. But, with you by his side, complimenting his mask, the tips of your claws curving over the horns and tracing the outline of his mask, he’ll take it. He’ll tease and snap at you, asking you to beg for him to remove his mask, telling you to ask nicely, and when you coo and press yourself against him, he’s grateful that the mask is still on. Not much can make the First Man flush, but when you act so sweetly, lips pulled into a smile with fangs on display, he thinks it’s one of the better sights that he’s seen in a long while. If he’s in a pleasing mood, he’ll rid himself of the oversized robe, and let his wings expand. He watches your expression- the awe and wonder that they hold, the gasps when you touch his feathers. He’ll stare and memorize the shape of your eyes, and the curve of your lips, as you familiarize yourself with his wings. In those few hours when he’s with you, it’s domestic, and it’s nice. 
When he visits Hell, he never stays for long. It’s visits that last for a few hours, but they never stretch into the night, and when it’s time for Sinners and alike to rise, he’s gone, not a single trace of him left behind. The dishes are put away, his part of the bed tucked in and flatten, it’s as if you dreamed a perverse dream where an angel took interest in a demon. You’ve asked him what excuses he gives to the others, never telling him that you wish he would stay for longer. He tells you that he’s told others he’s doing paperwork, or that he’s going to some orgy party and no one should bother him. When you laugh at that, he stares at you, eyes wide and heart- or whatever it is that he has- skipping a beat. You sleep in your bed, and he pulls you close to him, his eyes on the wall, as you make yourself comfortable on top of the Exterminator. He tells himself that he could miss a day- skip work and spend the day with you here, where the two of you could entangle yourselves with one another, but when brushes over your skin, and he hears the demons talk between the thinned walls of your apartment, he pulls away, and rests his lips over your temple. Leaving you behind in Hell never gets easier, and the more he erases that he existed in your home, the more he hopes that you’ll cry and miss him, and want him.
Unsurprisingly, he’s mean. Perhaps it’s his own personal feelings that he’s had with demon folk for the past number of  millenniums, and how in comparison to that, he’s only just met you, that he still has animosity towards demons. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop with you. He can be cruel, referring to you as a Sinner, and sneering at you, and when you flinch, hurt evident in the way that you back away from him and pull your limbs close to yourself, that he groans. He hadn’t meant it. Not like that- at least not towards you. You have to understand, some demons, some of those sinners, well- and his explanations are always cut short when you scowl at him. He hadn’t meant to be mean to you, he promises. He’ll envelop you in his arms, and pout, asking you to not take it so personally. He’s tense, and he waits with bated breath, and he visibly relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. Adam had never thought himself to care about what a demon may think of him, but in those moments where you sit still and he’s unsure if you’d forgive him or not, his mind is racing. He can’t- It can’t even comprehend what it would feel like to be rejected by you. 
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lexosaurus · 2 years
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Companies nowadays are getting SO comfortable asking for our social security numbers.
Like why tf does Optimum need my social to install wifi? They're just an internet provider, they don't need my social. I don't care that the last people living at my location didn't pay their bill, there are a dozen other ways to prove that I'm not them without me handing over my social.
Anyway, hot tip, legally you can refuse to give your social security in unnecessary cases like this. If a company needs to prove that you are who you say you are, they have alternative ways to do so.
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I hate you mfs that don't like Gwen after across the spider verse it smells like misogyny
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bloodandthestars · 1 year
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・✧ — 𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
tags: NO SPOILERS!, antihero! reader? i guess?, mention of blood, takes place before across the spider-verse, will be edited, one mention of something sexual but nonetheless mdni anything else I’ll let you read to find out <3
author’s note: helllooooo everyone! this is the longest thing i’ve written for my blog yet. he’s been rotting my brain heavily and i needed it to spill out somewhere. do let me know if you enjoy what’s implied and if you’d like more. a lil vague incase there is a future series. I love this but at the same time……anyways- translations and taglist are at the bottom of the post. enjoy!
wc: 4.5k :: masterlist next
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BZZT. BZZT.
“Miguel,” You purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“It’s Important.”
It always was. “…And what kind of call is this?”
“Work-related.”
You hum. “Pity.”
“You still have ways into Oscorp?”
“Always do.”
“Good, I got a job for you. Meet at the usual spot at 9.”
A chill runs down your spine from the light wind passing through the night. You awaited your contract atop the Alchemax building, looking down at the neon lit city below. It was bright with cybernetic blues and greens, every now and then you could hear a hover car or two whirl by, only to miss it blend into the rest of the blurs flying by. The sight could never bore you, not in how it could change every day. That was the nuance of Nueva York, after all. Nothing ever rests, not even the wicked.
Nor the man that lands behind you with a thud of his feet and a slight grunt. He walks to your side in silence, taking in the city as you do. The sharp points of his eyes narrow. “You’re sure you’ll be able to get in this time?”
You turn to send him a look. Your hand raises as a drive twirls around your finger. “If you thought I couldn’t, you wouldn’t have hired me.”
He lets out a dry huff you take as amusement. His head turns to look at you. “Alright, you got me there.”
You barely catch the way his hand flies out to grab the device from your hand. His reflexes were always quick, but in this rare moment, you were just a bit quicker. Your hand is mere centimeters away from his in the air, catching you both in surprise. Your shocked expression slowly turns to one of accomplishment. His mask shifts, but knowing him, he was deadpanning under it. You chuckle, placing the drive in a pouch among many holstered onto your thigh. His eyes drag up from it’s placement to your eyes. You place a hand to your hip. “You ready?”
He places a foot to the edge of the roof. “Will you be able to keep up?”
Now it was your turn to huff, placing a prepared foot out as well. “Always.”
He gives you a final look, a lingering one you can’t quite place your finger on. He takes off and you’re quick to follow. The route felt routine to you both at this point, jumping over small spaces between buildings that eventually begin to stretch in distance. Your feet rush in a dash, swiftly jumping over over air conditioners. Miguel takes to running on the side of the buildings before webbing back to the rooftops alongside you. The two of you move when a roof entrance divides you, the heroine using his webs to ease his momentum after jumping over another conditioner back to your side. You slide under piping, coming up to jump in unison to the final rooftop. He lands on his feet, while you need to roll to slow yourself down. Both of you rise at the same time, looking up to the greenly lit skyscraper with geometric lettering spelling ‘OSCORP’ on its side.
“Which floor?”
He responds with a nod to the higher top of the building. “84th.”
You tilt your head to think. “We’ll have to climb the back side of the building. There are enforced windows starting at level 80.”
You feel a hand on your waist, causing your head to whip in his direction. You had to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes. “Thought you said this was work-related?”
“Hush, descarada. You know what I’m doing.”
You roll your eyes, discontent with him ruining your fun. You hook your leg at his waist and he moves his hand to lower back to keep you stable. With one arm he’s able to secure you at his hip. You hook your arms around his neck and you both look up at each other. Curse how close he is and the way his voice gets low to affirm to you. “You good?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
His free hand shoots out a web, not wasting time with flying through the air. No matter how many times you’ve swung with him during an operation, your grip still tightens around him in a sudden jolt once you’re flying through gravity. The rush used to take your bones in a wave of nausea, but now it’s all adrenaline that flows through your body. You hoped that was why your heart quickened just then.
Miguel goes by your instructions, swing to the back of the building. From there, he gets you both to the windows of the 80th floor. You let out a breath of relief at the emptiness of the lab. Pulling your gadget from your other thigh holster. It had a metal hook at its end and with one push of a button, it closes in its claws for something thinner with a green light atop it. Your thumb rolls back the dial on its side, clicking another button. In a green flash, the two of you are inside the lab floor, silent and desolate. Your gadget goes back to your thigh, turning over your shoulder for any signs of trouble.
“Are you ever gonna tell me where you got that thing?”
You turn to look at him, a playful shrug rolling off your shoulders. “You looking to buy one?”
He sets his hands in the air, immediately shaking his head. “Nevermind-”
“I mean if you really are looking to, I can get you set up-”
“No, no, I already know wherever you got it, I don’t need nor do I want to know.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “Miguel? Breaking one of his rules— what was it again?” You place a hand under your chin. “Oh yes, ‘don’t ask questions’?”
“And you’re all the more reason why the rule still applies.”
You both reach the emergency stairs however, a handprint was needed to unlock the door. You pull a small glowing blue rectangle that looks similar to glass. A press of your thumb and a hologram emits from it. You give it a swipe, the image shifting through dozens of handprints. You stop at a familiar bulky one. Facing the glass device to the lock, it takes the holographic limb into its code and clicks to unlock.
“How does it know it’s real?”
“You lurk around the underground long enough, and you’ll see that people are in the market for all kinds of things.” You place the glass back into your pocket. “Holographic or fake skin included.”
Miguel raises a brow— not to say it wasn’t possible. He’s sure that with the right elements, tools, it could be possible. But how people got ahold things like that weren’t out of the highly advanced labs he worked in, he didn’t know. The thought only made his stomach turn. Maybe he should stick to his own rules.
You both head up the steps, going from level 80 to level 84. From the window of the door, the two of you peer out to see an empty floor. It was safe to say that it seemed too easy. Only a few guards patrolling up and down in their routines. You look to Miguel, who looks right back at you. You shrug. “There’s always a patrol going on.”
He looks back to the glass. “Seems more than usual.”
“Maybe it’s because they’re starting to notice a few things going missing.”
“….Maybe.”
You tilt your head at him. “What? You can’t take them?”
His head turns to you, the red of his mask narrowing. “I can take them.”
You smile at his annoyed tone, patting his strong shoulder.
The hallway is silent for the six guards on duty tonight, say for the air conditioner buzzing in the background. Guns are held strong in their grip, pacing back and forth in their routine.
THWHIP!
Three lines of webs block the muzzles of three guns. The guards get tense, looking up to see where the webs came from. They didn’t have time to think, much less act— the lines steal their weapons from their hands, clanking to the ground along with a guard. The other three guards turn, only for their muzzles to be stuffed with webs as well. You slide past the first three, going for the second row. In your hands were clear cut batons, whacking at two guards’ knees. Your baton lets out a hard crack from an upper cut from below and dropping a guard in an instant. You use your hand to balance yourself as your calves lock around the other guard’s neck. You flip him down to the ground, landing you in a kneeled position to throw your baton into the nose of the final upcoming guard.
With a hard smack, he goes to the ground. You stand on your feet, walking over to grab the baton. You turn to Miguel, who’s got his three guards tied up. You look down to the baton, a red liquid causing your stomach to fall. Turning back, you see the guard’s nose as the source. Panic settles in your head, until you see his chest rise and fall. You let out a sigh of relief, quickly wiping the blood off of on the latex of your thigh. You look up to see Miguel, who finally turns to you after you it clean. You share a look to each other before you shrug. “Poor bastards.”
You both begin walking to down the hall to the entrance when he responds. “Never saw it coming.”
The steel doors greet you with shiny meshed reflections of your bodies. You use the holographic glass again, and the doors slide open with a cool hiss. The lab was vast, with a control center in the middle with scaled monitors larger than you both. They light the space in a light blue hue spreading to its very corners. You both approach the system after a cautious walk.
“Think it’s my turn to show off.” The spiderman pulls his wrist device into view, displaying a small gold hologram and pressing away at data.
You lean back with the computer behind you, arms crossed. “Oh really?”
“Mhm.”
“Was I showing off before?” You ask with a playful tone.
He huffs at your words, tapping away until his tech. After a moment, his hand goes out. You know he wants the drive, but making things easy for him was never something that entertained you. Your finger raises with the drive’s key ring around it, waving it. “Please?”
“Do you take anything seriously?”
“None of that sounded like please.”
You sense another deadpan across his face. You roll your eyes, throwing into his grasp. “Don’t act like you’re not familiar with the word, now.”
He starts a little, whipping his head back to the computer system. You hear him grumble under his breath, something along the lines of “-mierda, me llevarás a la tumba-”
It causes you to let out another laugh for the night, a sound that he’s gotten used to.
You watch as he plugs the drive into an insert in the computer’s system. Various windows of information pop up on the monitors, lines of words you don’t exactly understand in a quick scan from your eyes before it vanishes. It wasn’t your job to know anyhow. Whatever a client needed, whatever he hires you for, is a trade of information for his eyes only. That never stopped your curiosity however.
You look away, eyes set to the steel doors. A ponding in your chest for the unexpected, only soothed somewhat with his company next to you in the long moment of silence.
The look on your face soon narrows as he’s still at work. “Almost done?”
“Yeah, just waiting for it to give me access.”
“To?”
“A chip.” He states plainly.
You open your mouth to ask more questions, only for you to be stopped by his body tensing. You raise a brow to him and you follow his line of sight back to the steel doors. The two of you remain eerily still, awaiting what was the cause for his tension. It was quiet, but you knew better than to trust that over his enhanced senses. You both glance to each other with caution.
You start. “Is someone-”
He tenses much worse this time, on guard in a flash. “Yes, they’re outside the door with-!”
The doors open and from its crack is thrown a silver canister. As soon as it hits the ground, a clouded air is released. Your nerves feel like they’ve gone ablaze. A hiss cuts into your thoughts, causing you both to turn to the computer. A capsule releases from system, and you grab what you assume is the chip he needs. The smoke only grows larger in size. Before you can say a word, he gets close, a hand over your nose and mouth. He tells you in a low voice of urgency. “Behind the computer, now.”
You both move quickly, his hand still atop your face. Placing your backs to the monitors, you try and take a moment to regain your mind for a plan. It’s difficult when you feel your heart try to rip out of your chest. Your eyes glance up to him as his body remains close to yours, an ear out to the approaching sounds.
“We’re going to have to-”
A clank sound interrupts him as another canister lands right in front of you both. Smoke begins to seep out of it at a rapid pace. Your throat began to burn, eyes watering as you tried to force down a cough. It was no use, you erupt with the sound out of reflex. He looks to you. “Don’t-”
His spider senses take in the next one being thrown and shoves you to the other side of the lab. He kicks the second one far from either of you. When the third one flies in the air, a web grabs hold of it and throws it back over the computer, where grunts and yells could be heard. In the mists of getting control of your vision, you hear him yell to you. “Go! The stairs!”
You scrape up to your feet, and the last thing he sees of you is your fleeing backside.
Miguel was a natural in situations under pressure. He had been in labs with mixtures of chemicals that would have to be settled in seconds, fought against robots and maniacs. He could handle this.
His face remained focused, shooting out webs as soon as an idea flew through his head. The sticky components lands on a lab stool, and with a grunt, he swings it into the back of the computer monitor. It flickers in its blue light, cracking and falling in the way of the assailants. He turns, eyes darting around the environment. His eyes light up to the emergency exit, with no other choice but to push through it.
A climb of walls, a sling from webs up the steps, and the Spider-man busts the rooftop door. Whirls of technology snap his attention to what’s in front of him— light blaring in his face with a large amount of guards surrounding him.
Miguel was a natural in situations under pressure. He’s done plenty of operations, fought when the world was a blur around him hundreds of feet in the sky. A wave of guards what a slight to his determination, but his mind…was elsewhere. He removes most of their weapons out of the equation, taking them in clusters with his webs. He lands a punch here, and slam with his glowing webs there. He had yet to see you or hear you yell out to him. Hand to hand combat increased, blows getting harder in their impact, grunts slipping past his lips out of increasing frustration. It felt like there was no end in sight, not that it mattered anyhow. His mind felt as though it was sinking in the tangled ropes of his paranoia. The longer time went by, the more restless Miguel got and the more determined he was to get through his enemies with vigor.
“I GOT IT!”
You shout from across the rooftop, the chip in your clasped hand. A red and blue mask turns to in your direction, relief washing over him like a flood. Between you both were many henchmen flooding from the roof’s entrance, all set to standing in your way. He nods to you through the chaos, and you nod back. The two of you run on the sidelines until you hear Miguel faintly shout. “Get over here!”
“Working on it!” You shout back. Eyes dart through the growing group of goons to find a clear path. His eyes are set on you the whole time, watching your face as the cogs go to work.
Your eyes squint, heart beating out of your chest, but you have a plan— somewhat. You knee one person out of the way, moving through the space to shove through a few more. Two step right in front of you. Not losing your momentum, you sweep your leg under one of them and use that same leg to balance the other into a high kick. It creates somewhat of a clear path for you, trying to get closer and closer to the man you’ve been working with all night. You catch a glance of him pummeling through a few men, giving you a slight of relief and all the more determination to pull through.
You’re almost there, goons try to grasp at your suit, tools, or mask, and you’re barely able avoid their invasive touches. You waste no time pulling out your hooked tool, clicking a button to throw out a long thick wire. It wraps around the ankle of a man and you pull hard. He falls, knocking into others like pins as he’s dragged across the concrete. Your path has never been more clearer. You click your wire back into your tool, eyes catching Miguel’s.
He takes out one more enemy before jumping off of the roof. Your feet quicken, taking after him and taking your leap.
The skyscraper’s height furthered your velocity downward. Wind blew into your face, strong in its force. Your tool wouldn’t be far enough to reach the buildings surrounding you. Your body reacted, stomach twisting and turning in an effort to scream at you the very danger you were in. But you? You calmly shut your eyes.
In an instant, a strong arm catches you as intended. You open your eyes, hooking your arms around his neck to secure yourself to his body. You squeeze the device you both needed into your palm to confirm your grip. With one hand, he swings from building to building to ensure some distance between you and Oscorp. After a few more buildings, Miguel slows down to a roof with a large neon sign right at its front. The momentum fades, allowing you both to land behind the bright lettering.
You pull away from his side, hands going to your hips as you caught your breath. Your chest rises and falls with rough exhales while he was silent in gathering his own air. After a while, you catch his voice speaking to you. “You still have it?”
You swallow, nodding and throwing the device to him. He catches it with ease. His large fingers examine the data card. Gold lines so microscopic but filled with the intelligence needed for his work to protect others. He slips it away into an empty wrist capsule, eyes flickering back up to you.
You placed your back against the sign only a few steps away from him, chest slowing to normalcy. Your eyelids were low, lashes soft in their curl. He gains his focus back when your irises appear from them.
“How many times do I have to catch you staring for you to realize you’re terrible at being subtle?”
Your teasing words cause his mask to shift, knowing all too well he was displaying his usual frown. “I can be subtle. You, on the other hand, can’t turn on a filter if you had one.”
An amused smile appears on your face, causing another sudden wave of relief over him. You take a glance to the sky before looking back at him. “Yeah, but that hasn’t kept you away now has it?”
Miguel grunts, and you turn your head away with a laugh.
The back of the neon sign behind you illuminates strongly in the night, red light seeping through the crevasses of the letters to give your vision clarity. Your body regained air in your lungs but the bruising was beginning to ache from your complications from getting to the roof. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Miguel’s arm holding his side. Your brows scrunch together. Just what was so important to risk a hailstorm raised on them from Oscorp? You knew from your previous encounters, that he wasn’t just hitting the large corporation, but any place with the highest level of technology in the city.
You begin after a beat of silence. “I mean, I can’t have some idea of what you get from the jobs you-?“
“No, you don’t”
Your eyes turn to a glare. “Watch that tone.”
“You know, you being demanding isn’t exactly an ease to deal with-”
“Would you like to do something about that?” You take a step closer, looking up to his tall stature. Your gaze is set to where his eyes were, feeling his eyes look directly back at you.
“I..” His brows knit together. You know what you meant, he knew what you meant. It takes him a second to speak with a retort, locking his jaw. “…not here.”
You purposely look to his masked lips, then back to his eyes. “…Thought so.”
Miguel takes a hard and long swallow, shutting his eyes.
"So, what's the deal with that chip?" You ask.
Miguel opens his eyes when he clears the clouding in his mind. Not fully, but enough to attain what you asked. He hesitates for a moment before responding. "It's...complicated. Let's just say it's valuable and leave it at that."
You raise an eyebrow, sensing there's more to the story. "Valuable how?"
Miguel shakes his head. "I can't say. It's not safe."
You cross your arms. “What we did tonight, or what we do every other night for that matter, isn’t safe either.”
“I know that but-” He lets out a sigh of frustration, his mask fading off his face in squares of blue light. Words never were his strong suit and his paranoia didn’t help his case on which words to choose. Or for you to know what he has planned. You were different, he knew that. And yet, he still eyed you with caution. It was in his nature.
You look him the eye, knowing he was weighing his options in his head. His jaw relaxes, voice settling into a softer tone. “I’m doing what I’m doing to protect people. All the things I’ve had you get? They help with that. You know I’m not- building some criminal empire or making some kind of genetic super weapon-”
“Really? Because those were only two of my theories-”
“I’m not-” To others, they would take his tone as immediate annoyance. But you know it’s laced with a slight of amusement that immediately disappears.
He hopes it’s enough to satisfy you, to keep you out the possibilities of pulling into a growing web of complications. But he knew you just as much as you did him, both akin to an unshakable stubbornness.
“I think you can do better than that.” You step forward into his space again. His larger stature is unmoving, but he could feel warmth radiate from your body at the familiar closeness. His eyes go down to yours, crimson irises slowly loosing their sharp edge the longer your gazes are on each other.
“We said we don’t owe each other anything…no matter what we do with one other. And I get that.” You tilt your head at him. “But if more jobs end like tonight, and I can barely catch an escape-“
He’s quick to respond. “I won’t let that happen-“
“-But if,” You emphasize. “That starts to become an occurrence, I at least want to know exactly what I’m sticking my neck out for.”
He looks to your features, scanning over your unwavering expression. You can’t help but look at the way he presses his lips together. Miguel locks his jaw to think, perhaps he’d do so in order to keep the words from coming out. Eventually, he lets out a sigh. “A super computer.”
Your face scrunches, brow slowly going up. “A…super computer?”
He mutters, still looking down at you. “Yes.”
“To protect people?”
“To protect people.”
His voice was firm, supposedly closing the door as quickly as it opens. You study him, trying to go over your past jobs to try to piece an explanation together. Sadly, you couldn’t. The path you’ve gone down, your lives beginning to intertwine like a binding threads— you knew that finding out what he was up to would be wary road.
Eventually letting out a sigh, you’re disappointed but understanding. "That’ll do I suppose.”
He watches you take a step back from him, back leaning against the sign. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that he follows suit. You both look out to the vast city, lights greeting your wandering gaze once again. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you speak up. "You know, for someone who's always so serious, your fleeting sense of humor is enjoyable.”
Miguel huffs, chuckling soon after. "Is that your way of saying I'm not as boring as you thought?"
You grin, a sight he appreciates after your tenacious standstill. "Oh I’ve never found you boring. In need of a good fuck to let loose? Definitely.”
Miguel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of enjoyment in his tone. "I'm plenty loose when I need to be."
You laugh. "Sure you are. That's why you're always so tense."
Miguel smirks. "I'm not tense. I'm focused."
You give him a playful shove. "Whatever you say, Spider-man."
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translations: descarada (minx), mierda, me llevarás a la tumba (fucking hell, you’ll be the death of me)
taglist: @manchuria @mezzke @rea-zxv @vvitcxen @pooiooi @jowtaro @coleseyebrows
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kindaorangey · 5 days
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my vision for post-train grace monroe. love u 4ever bbg
bonus:
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cannibalcarcass · 6 days
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I need yall to know how unbelievably healing it is to see such a wonderful sapphic relationship so blatantly shown like I cried the first time I watched this show
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tazernatic · 1 year
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no no no it's about the way they're sleeping so peacefully it's about the coziness of all this
it's about their matching pjs (the bunnies!!) it's about the way it looks so comfy
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it's about the way rei is protecting his daughter (ever so gently) even as he sleeps and it's about miri feeling safe in his arms and holding onto him too
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it's about a little part of rei's undercut showing it's about the blanket tossed to the side suggesting they moved around quite a bit until they found a comfortable enough position and it just so happened to be under her dad's arms, it just happened to be keeping his daughter close to his chest
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it's about kazuki immediately setting this as his phone's wallpaper because he simply loves his family so so much
source
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justaz · 6 days
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somehow some time magic goes wrong and young arthurs from different points in time are pulled into king arthur era. everyone kinda has this back and forth of who is going to watch the literal 8 month old. gwen and lancelot are pretty good at taking care of him, so is percival but he doesnt seem comfortable with it so no one forces him. elyan tried to hold him but baby!arthur started wailing after three seconds. leon is sorta good but he has like no idea how babies work or what they need so when baby!arthur found his sword and almost lobbed his own head off, leon was forbidden from taking care of the child. gaius is too old and busy researching how to reverse the issue. who the HELL would trust gwaine with a child? arthur has this Odd aversion to the child but no one pushes him on it. ofc merlin, magic incarnate, has this like aura or energy that draws all these innocent woodland creatures to him so obviously little arthur is also drawn to him. in fact, merlin seems to be the person he likes the most. and merlins a natural w kids apparently so hes often the one that baby!arthur is handed off to.
he complains about it at first but when baby!arthur breaks into a fit of giggles after merlin calls adult!arthur a clotpole, he has merlin wrapped around his little finger. merlin stops complaining but does let arthur know that the one thing he Will Not Do is change his diaper. arthur laughs and walks away. merlin talks to baby!arthur like they’ve been friends for years (bc they have). arthur points out that baby!arthur cant understand him and merlin retorts that its like how it normally is. merlin gets to perform magic in front of baby!arthur and he LOVES it
my point to this was merlin dotting on little versions of arthur is a way that no one ever really did for him growing up and adult!arthur seeing it and healing little pieces of his inner child as he watches merlin play games with baby!arthur and make sure he’s taken care of. it especially hits him when gaius finally finds a way to send baby!arthur back and while everyone seems torn between upset they have to say bye, they’re also relieved to get the baby back where hes supposed to be,, merlin is like choking back fat tears. everyone backs off to give them privacy and merlin just kisses baby!arthur’s forehead and whispers some encouraging and heartachingly sincere words that have adult!arthur choking back tears.
then BOOM the spell also backfires and while yes baby!arthur got back to where hes supposed to be, now theres toddler!arthur. he has this gravitational pull to gaius (can recognize him) and merlin (magic soulmates ofc he has an innate trust in the man). merlin is happy to have his little friend back and gaius goes back to the drawing board. now they have this little 2-3 year old toddling after them and blabbering something that sounds like english if you’re patient enough
(merlin makes another comment about how little arthur has changed over the years)
the cycle repeats, merlin and toddler!arthur get attached and adult!arthur watches and heals a bit more of his inner child. gaius finds another cure that falls through the same way and now they have child!arthur. he has a bit more of uther’s influence in him but hes still a child. he gets hurt and tries to fight back tears but merlin sees he’s in pain and tells him it’s okay to be hurt, to feel pain, to cry. child!arthur says in that stutter cry children do when they’re fighting back tears that his father says boys shouldn’t cry. merlin wipes a tear that slips down child!arthur’s face and whispers about how he cries and lets himself feel his sadness before picking himself back up and dusting himself off before getting back to it, that it doesn’t make him weak but stronger. adult!arthur hears this and this may not be the beginning of his deconstruction but it makes a tremendous amount of progress in him rewiring his brain away from his father’s toxic ways of thinking.
idk if they’d get a teen!arthur since gaius probably would’ve learned his lesson by then but if they did, we’d get to watch Merlin vs Arthur Showdown 2.0 as merlin humbles the young prince and i think that’d be funny. especially for gwaine since he didn’t get to see it happen the first time.
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ooeygooeyghoul · 9 months
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I'll never forgive ffxiv for not letting the WoL show affection to the twins. You spend the whole game with them watching them grow and hurt and change, and I REALLY feel like they deserve some hugs or at least something more than a couple dialog options and the stoic silent nod lol. Alphinaud canonically looks up to the WoL as an older sibling, and Alisaie repeatedly relies on them as a close companion and guardian. Those kids be starved as hell for any kind of positive role model to tell them they're doing great (which is even more true later on aha).
I was so disappointed when the reunion with them in Norvrandt was just them talking at you. Thancred gets to give Ryne headpats, why can't I have that for the twins!! Let me show them how proud of them I am I NEED them to understand that I care them so much-
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