#micro multiverse

[micro-meltdown]

I finished the sketches--

Andy the Apple (AAF)

Timethy Kidd (micro au oc)

Rupty (micro au oc)

#babas art #micro ocs #microverse #micro multiverse #micro rupty #timethy kidd #aaf fanart #aaf au #pumpple pie au #andy the apple #aaf andy #finished wip #sorry for my inactivity #really been struggling with life and personal issues

[foxalone]

Himeros : Nor-Chan wanna go make a shopping, we Can buy New things for our babies !

°Blithe wave to Raion and Keo°

Nothing like coffee after a long day of shopping jsjs

Underblood belongs to me

Inversotale by: @nova2cosmos

Undertale by Toby fox

#undertale au #undertale fandom #undertale art #utmv #underblood #undertale multiverse #undertale comic #nor!sans #Himeros!Sans #inversotale #Yosa and Micro are carring the bags xd

[au-mashup-party]

Can you please do Micro! Sans and Ruby sans roasting each other?

Ruby by @rubytale-chapter2

Micro, Splitz, and Nopal by me

Yosa and Chara!Blood by @foxalone

Mama Gaster by @nova2cosmos

#undertale au #undertale multiverse #rubytale #ruby!sans #micro!sans #utmv #undertale blog #splitz!sans #nopal!sans #inversotale #underblood #microtale #yeah the two both made mistakes in the past we’re all aware by now #Don’t worry they don’t actually hate each other #friendly fire #characters roast each other series

[nova2cosmos]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICROTALE AND MICRO!! 🥳🥳🎂

OMG THE BOY GROW UP SO FAST!!

incredible character and lovely father congratulations

Microtale belongs to @au-mashup-party

#micro!sans #microtaleoffcial #microtale 1st anniversy #micro au #microtale #sans au #undertale multiverse #undertale au #undertale community #happy bday micro #utmv au #blithe!sans #baby blithe #himeros! sans #da big boy #nova2cosmos art

[kollectorsrus]

#adult collectors #adult collectibles #collectables #toys #figures #dc comics #dc universe #DC #dc movies #WB #warner brothers #dc multiverse #dcu #dc league of super pets #micro collection #mattel #card art #ace the bathound #PB the potbelly pig #chip the squirrel #merton the turtle #krypto the superdog #batman #the flash #wonder woman #superman #green lantern #animals #pets

[rj-drive-in]

Entropy Everywhere All At Once Department:

They just don't make reality like they used to.

FROM OUT OF THE OLDER CYCLE © 2023 by Rick Hutchins

“I don’t get it,” said Bellamy, his voice cracking with despair. “I just don’t get it.” This was the result of checking his headline news app one too many times.

“What don’t you get?” asked Fernando.

“All the conflict, the petty squabbling,” said Bellamy, throwing up his hands. “The wars, the hate, the politics, the religion, the ideology. What’s the point? Why does it keep happening and happening, over and over?”

“I suppose there are a lot of reasons.”

“But I mean, we’re all made of essentially the same stuff, right? We’re all made of the same cells, the same DNA, the same molecules, the same atoms, the same particles– the same elements that were formed in the same stars a billion years ago.”

“No, not all of us.”

“Exactly! So why do we– wait, what?”

“We’re actually not all made of the same particles and elements.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” demanded Bellamy, making a face like he was trying to read fine print written in cuneiform.

Fernando sighed. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you,” he said. “I, myself, am made out of a substance left over from the previous cycle of the Oscillating Universe.”

This came out of left field for Bellamy. “The previous… what…. of the what….?”

“The Oscillating Universe,” explained Fernando, “is a cosmological model that states, briefly, that the universe is created in a Big Bang, expands for trillions of years at an ever-decreasing rate, eventually stops, and then contracts more and more swiftly, finally ending in a Big Crunch, whereupon the cycle starts all over again.”

“So the previous universe is completely destroyed?” asked Bellamy, wondering why they were even talking about this.

“Not quite completely,” said Fernando, scrunching his face and wagging a finger. “Some small tiny fraction of it survives. And it survives because the matter and energy of the previous universe is superior to the Big Bang of the subsequent universe.”

“You’ve lost me,” said Bellamy.

“Let me try to find you,” said Fernando. “The name of the game is entropy. Think of making photocopies at work of a form or pamphlet or something. You start off with a pretty nice, crisp original and you make a copy. It still looks pretty nice. You can hardly tell the difference. But then you lose the original and you have to make a copy of the copy. Still good, but not as great. Next time, it’s obvious that it’s a bad copy. This happens a dozen times. A hundred times. Eventually you’re stuck with a pretty fucking shitty copy.”

“This much I can follow,” said Bellamy. “But….”

“Well, that’s what’s been happening to the universe, only it’s happened trillions of times over googolplexi of megayears. The original universe was perfect, like Heaven or something– I don’t know, I wasn’t in that one– but now we’re living in a shitty, umpteenth-generation copy. Only my ‘substance,’ as you call it, is from the previous, slightly less shitty version.”

“Actually, I called it ‘stuff.’”

“Back in my universe, we called it ‘substance,’” said Fernando. “We had a better vocabulary than you people.”

Bellamy shook his head like he had bugs in his ears. “What does all this even mean? How would you even be different? It’s still all just protons and neutrons and electrons and stuff. I mean substance.”

Fernando chuckled a bit condescendingly and shook his head. “That is where you are wrong, my friend,” he said. “The previous universe was fundamentally superior at the most quantum level.”

“At least you had a quantum level.”

Fernando shrugged. “I use the term for the sake of familiarity.”

“Well, then,” said Bellamy, folding his arms skeptically, “if you didn’t have atoms– and stuff– what did you have?”

“Okay, since you ask, I’ll tell,” said Fernando. “Our version of atoms had a perfectly spherical and solid nucleus called a centeron. From out of it grew a multitude of strings called linkons which ended in little seven-fingered hands called hands. None of your fractional particles with fractional charges that can’t decide if they’re points or strings and don’t know where they are or how fast they’re going at the same time. Just good, solid particles and strings and hands that know exactly what they are and what they’re doing.”

“How did they form elements if they were all the same?”

“Elements were determined by the special secret handshakes between those seven-fingered hands. No other element knew another element’s secret handshake. That’s how stability was maintained.”

“And this is what you’re made of?” asked Bellamy, pointing at Fernando’s belly button for some reason.

“Precisely.”

“You’re full of shit,” said Bellamy.

“Not even a little bit,” retorted Fernando. “Have you ever seen me use a restroom? I’m above that sort of thing.”

“Well, no, I suppose not.” Bellamy scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I actually don’t think I have.”

“There you go.”

Bellamy looked at him appraisingly for a long time, and then said, “But if you’re made of sterner stuff from a superior universe, why don’t you do something?”

“What do you mean? I do lots of things.”

“I mean besides playing Star Trek Online and hooking up at Applebee’s. Why don’t you do something for the world?”

“What do you expect me to do for the world?”

“I don’t know! I’m part of this shitty universe. You’re from the superior previous universe. You should be able to get out there and inspire people or something. Get them to follow you and live up to a higher standard. You should be able to lead people out of this steaming pile of a mess we’re in.”

Fernando paused for a moment. “No,” he said.

Bellamy sat up straight as a duck. “You paused for a moment!” he said. “You know I’m right! You have to do this. With greater superiority comes greater responsibility.”

“I don’t know,” said Fernando, making a sick face. “Work with people? Try to make something out of them? Seriously, they give me the willies.”

“But you are Nietzsche’s Ubermensch. You must save us!”

“You’ve read Nietzsche?”

“No, I read that in a thoughtful treatise deconstructing Superman on a blog about obsolete comic book characters.”

“That’s pathetic.”

“And proves that we need help.”

Fernando sighed. “You surely do need help.”

“Well then?”

Fernando stood up and nodded firmly. “All right, I’ll do it! I’ll bring all my superiority from the less-entropic reality of the previous cycle of the Oscillating Universe to bear, and I will save the world!”

“Hello there!” shouted Sebastian from behind.

“Jesus Christ, Sebastian!” squeaked Fernando, jumping six inches into the air. “You scared the shit out of me. Where did you come from?”

Sebastian smiled smugly. “An even older cycle,” he said.

“Damn it!” cried Fernando.

#micro fiction #microfiction #short fiction #flash fiction #short story #big bang #cyclic universe #entropy #multiverse #Rick Hutchins #RJDiogenes

[hopeful-hugz]

Hope has been staring at an old, tattered book and her own, half-gone tail for a little over a day now. As sound as she was in the decisions that she and Joshua had made, both to kill her and to see how her aether half reacted to being separated from her evidently very human soul, she still couldn’t help a small pang of anxiety, every time she saw the still-healing limb. 

She had remembered reading something from an old book she had stolen from Charles’ labs and that was in fact what she was reading now. Sure enough, there was something on how aether and nagete could change the appearance of their appendages, at the cost of using up a lot of energy. The only risk was, she didn’t know what appendages her tail would shift into. Those pages seemed to be a little more than lost to time and the state she and her friends had left those laboratories in.

“It’s still worth a shot, isn’t it? If it’ll make healing easier?”

The book is set aside, on the mat in her living room, and she gives a small sigh. Yeah. Yeah, it was worth a shot. She’d done minor shapeshiftng before, so this should be a breeze. The half-breed closes her eyes and focuses on changing just her tail, the fact that she’s doing this in the RG earning her a nice nosebleed since she has to put that much more effort in. Slowly weight redistributes from her lower back to her upper back-

And Hope immediately ends up falling backwards, yelping and flailing a bit as she did so. Even she had to admit she had to struggle a little to right herself back into a sitting position, especially after the energy she just spent trying this experiment.

Gone was the short, healing tail, now replaced by a pair of messy wings that looked just a little too small to carry her. Given the current state of her immortal half, that wasn’t a surprise. She didn’t dare try to open them from their current position, but from what she could tell, these appeared to look rather bat-like; bordering on draconic and adorned in fur and feathers tipped in a pastel rainbow. Just like with aether tails, these were unique to her and her alone. 

A pause is given to consider whether or not she liked this and... Hope decided this may be a little too close in resemblance to her friends and developing family here in Shibuya- even if it did make healing easier in the long run. Unfortunately for her, she had nowhere near the energy to shapeshift back yet. For the foreseeable future, her tail was stuck like this.

“Oh son of a-”

#Multiversal MD || Hope #Special Mentions! || kingsmedley #Micro Event || On The Wings Of... #Storybook Scraps || Drabbles #Mcfucking Spacebar Don't Work Right || Mobile Laptop Post #SO I'M USING HOPE TO SHOW OFF MORE AETHER STUFF

[unusuallysized-nsfw]

Text? Tales From Technicolour Horse Expanded Multiverse (the mlp art of the Polyverse) #001

Tangie <3: Hey been awhile since you headed up to that artsy place, haven't heard from you in a bit.

Me(Sj): Oh Hey! sorry i missed replying to your last message, stuffs been hectic here, you remember Vinyl? the DJ? she's been trying to impress this snooty mare Octavia. It's been somewhat unsuccessful and somewhat distracting. Here i am trying to perfect the concept for a portable Scale Adjuster and my roomates up all night blasting EDM and drafting hairbrain schemes! I hope this reaches you well!

One Month Later...

Tangie <3: Hey Dork, a DJ and a snooty rich mare? Let your roommate know she's barkin up the wrong tree, ive seen those canterlot types and theyre not gonna pivot for the rowdy pauper like in fairytales. Just make sure to be more consistent okay? you promised!.

The Following Month:

Tangie <3: Distracted again huh. you missed last months letter again... instead i got a letter from Your aunt wondering if you sent me anything. and what the heck is a Scale Adjuster? you trying to fix bathroom scales for good? dont fix my moms, she'd flip! anyway...got a good offer from manehattan but I want to wait for you! hit me back Dork!

Me(Sj): Oh shit.. . writing this is hrd . hlo. i uh got vinyl to use a dictation...haha dick... dictation spell cus im kinda... i did a weird plant i mean i inhaled it kinda... maan.. tangles you gotta try it sometime hahahaha the scale adjusters like one of them shrinky rays but both ways like when you cross the street!? i think?

Next Month

Tangie <3: Starjacks, listen to me dork, i dont want you messing with drugs unless you KNOW what they are... so let me know SOBER that you didnt do something dumb! In the meantime, I think I may actually at least check out the new place mom wants to open in Manehattan. A growth/shrink ray sounds insane...but i bet you of all pegasi could figure it out, Stay smart dork!

To Be Continued...

#macro micro #mlp g4 #mlp fim #oc lore #oc conversations #polyverse #Technicolour Horse Expanded Multiverse #Polyverse

[luvergirl777]

For All the Multiverses | O’Hara

Pairing | Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Word Count | 7k, not too bad. 

Genre | Smut, kind of enemies to lovers if you squint hard. 

Summary | Miguel is an ass, through and through. There’s almost nothing that can convince you otherwise, the constant nagging, perfectionism, micromanaging, and passive aggressive comments fueling your rage. After a dumb remark, you’re done with him, done with all of it. 

Index | Submissive Miguel, soft dom reader I guess, biting (a bit of blood but nothing too crazy), bickering, dumb fighting, a bit of violence but not too bad (normal spider-people stuff.)

“It’s rude to stare, y’know?” You ask, voice absolutely dripping sarcasm with every single word. You can feel his eyes, your senses tingling throughout your body as his eyes bore into you from the top of his little platform. He’s been easily staring for 10 minutes now, glaring daggers at you as you try to work. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” 

He simply lets out a tsk noise, clearly not entertaining your conversation any further. “You should get back to work,” Miguel grunts, and you can practically feel his eyes roll as he turns back around to his projections. You’re not sure why he resents you so much, you’re pretty literally only here to help catch anomalies, literally his sole purpose in life. 

“You should too, you’re supposed to be leading a capture in less than 3 minutes withhh, one sec, Gwen, Peter B, and maybe Jess if you need the backup. Spider-cat is also down to come with Jess if you’d like,” You inform him, once again getting on his nerves without even really trying. Truly, you practically do what Lyla’s designed to do. However, with anomalies popping up more frequently and unpredictability, she needs all the help she can get. 

“I know, I don’t need you to tell me.” Miguel grits out.

“Well, you should get a move on because the rest of the team has been waiting on you for 5 minutes now, but I'm sure you know th-“ 

“Ay mierda,” And before you are able to get another cheap shot in he’s towering over you at your desk, “No micro-managing my mission, got it y/l/n?” his tone is deadly serious, vaguely threatening. Still, you refuse to give in to his constant fear-mongering bullshit, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. If there’s one thing you’re going to do in your time at the spider society, it’s putting Miguel in his place even if it’s just a little. 

“Sir yes sir, Mr O’Hara sir,” You give him a stupid salute, purposely looking dumb to mock him. He leaves with an exaggerated sigh, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t quite catch. You probably don’t want to, you’re sure it’s a string of curses. With a giggle, you immediately turn on your surveillance and begin overseeing the mission. “Lyla?” She pops up in front of you, bubbly and bright as ever. 

“Yes?” She beams, walking around in her little artificial intelligence world. She’s the only other lively thing around here, and you’re grateful for her presence after dealing with Miguel all day. 

“Can I have this mission? Pretty pretty please?? With a cherry on top?” You begin to beg, pressing your hands together and shaking them towards her to see. 

“Well…I suppose Miguel never put in an official request on who monitors this mission. So I suppose I wouldn’t be going against any orders…” She trails off, thinking for a brief moment, “But if anyone asks, I was super busy!!” She exclaims, immediately running off to make herself busy so she has the excuse. It makes you giggle, turning back around to watch your projections spread around your desk. You hate that you share an office space with Miguel, but at least he’s in the air away from you. 

They’re getting their asses kicked, genuinely. You can tell that they don’t know the anomaly they’re going against, constantly getting tricked by the changing of shapes, colors, forms, and even states of matter. Dragging a hand along your face, you quickly ping Peter B’s watch with a message to help them. 

Don't tell O’Hara I’m here yet, but the anomaly glows under ultraviolet light. Think glowing like a scorpion !!! 

Finally, things begin to click as Peter uses his watch to shine the light around to detect it. With a small smile, you pat yourself on the back. Still, while it’s now easier to find it’s not any easier to catch. You almost itch for Miguel to call it, eyes switching between cameras just in case you miss it. 

“Call for backup.” Miguel groans, eyes narrowed more than before in his mask. 

“Sorry, what was that?” Your voice fills his ear and he immediately drops his head, hand coming to rub his forehead as he fights off many choice words. He sits like that for a second as he recomposes himself. 

“God, can't you hear?? I said call-“ 

“Already there.” You hang up, and a loud click right after you finish your last word. (AKA before Miguel can give you any more shit.) Truthfully? You have nothing against him. In fact, you think his combat and intelligence are admirable beyond compare. However, you refuse to be afraid like almost everyone else that comes to help. You don’t understand it, yeah he’s kinda scary because of his authority, but at the same time, he does the same thing as anyone else. Everyone is here to help, and the snarkiness and ego he has is beyond your grasp despite it all. You just so happen to have the pleasure to work right beside him. 

Miguel was avoidant from the get-go, constantly denying the fact that they needed any more help. He can do it on his own, he’s got everything under control, he doesn’t need a set of eyes looking at him, etc, etc, etc. Even when Lyla appeared and gave a very timid “Actually we really would benefit from the help-“ She was promptly hung up on. (She then flashed her message on all of the holograms and projections in the room out of spite.) But still, Miguel was relentless in his belief that he had everything under control. This continued for a long time, however, there was a brief moment where the two of you got along well. 

You’re not sure what really happened, how it even started. The two of you began going on missions together, catching a record number of anomalies for the month with ease. Along with this, you two fell into a routine in no time. He’d get coffee in the mornings, leaving yours on your desk as he was always in way earlier than you. You’d get lunch for the both of you, bringing Miguel his food as it’s rare he’d really leave for long, let alone to eat. It was nice, very nice. 

Small conversations in passing turned into hour-long debates about anything and everything, friendly debates. These ranged from which lunch was the best from the cafeteria, all the way to the legitimacy of how the multiverse works. You thought the Miguel Burger was the best (and most funny), he loves the empanadas. He thought the multiverse was do-or-die at all times, you believe there have to be SOME exceptions in a multiverse of infinite possibilities. Through the small banters and discussions, you had actually learned a lot more about each other than you ever expected. In times you couldn’t agree, you two settled on a truce and no hard feelings. You both genuinely respected the other's opinion because you had enough respect for one another in general. 

Besides from office encounters, you had even started “coincidentally” running into each other during night surveillance. He scared you at first as you snuck through the hall, a giant figure also popping out of his room. After the initial fright and a very over-exaggerated gasp from you, the two of you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation for a solid five minutes. He had spooked you so bad you even pulled your mask on, struggling to peel it back off through your laughter.  “What are you doing, O’Hara, do you know what time it is?!” You whispered in between giggles, unable to hold them back. 

He responded with a giant smile on his face, the lack of sleep probably going to his head finally. “I should ask you the same thing!” Afterward, you two snuck into the cafeteria kitchen to make a snack. The two of you made food, humming songs and passing ingredients back and forth with very little verbal communication needed. You two even entertained the idea of sneaking one of the projectors back for a movie, but you both decided you needed some sort of rest before morning duty started. 

Another fond memory was his birthday one year. He never celebrates, never even thinks about allowing himself to. You initially bribed Lyla to tell you, and when she wouldn’t, you did some totally legal background stalking to find out. Walking into the office with a cake on his desk, obnoxious balloons, and streamers all over the office, and your frame hiding behind said desk ready to sing happy birthday, your plan was in full swing. Admittedly he was reluctant to even let you celebrate, clamping a palm over your mouth once you began singing. Slowly but surely he warmed up, made a birthday wish, and blew out his candles. 

“Happy birthday Captain!!!” You’re over the top and obnoxious, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him around in his chair. Still, he offers you a genuine smile as you continue your birthday antics. Getting his favorite lunch and dinner, hand-delivering them to his desk, the whole nine yards. 

It’s not until dinner that he told you why, “The last birthday I had, was with my daughter.” Miguel mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “I know, it’s silly but I just wanted to remember it with her.” 

Guilt instantly eats at your heart and brain, immediately feeling bad for everything. You hadn’t even considered the reason why he didn’t celebrate, “I’m really sorry I didn’t know-“ You’re quick to offer your support, reaching out and holding his forearm in your palm. 

“But this is really nice!” He interrupts your apology, flipping his arm over so he can also hold your arm near your elbow, “Really thoughtful and kind, I genuinely really appreciate you, y/n.” 

Don’t even get going on the one Father’s Day you had gotten him a small gift. It wasn’t intentional, you had been at the store to get Peter a cake for him, Mayday, and MJ. Something cute with #1 Dad!! With a silly hero design in the background that you know Peter and Mayday would like. However, while you were in the store Miguel popped up into your mind. With an uncertainty that could rival god, you bit the bullet and also got him a smaller cake with happy father’s Day written across the top. 

You had found Peter in the cafeteria, bothering Miguel with who knows what as he just tried to get his food and then leave. As soon as you gave the cake to Peter, Miguel leaves instantly, a painful reminder he didn’t need right now. Peter and Mayday thank you, and Peter jokingly smears a dollop of frosting across Mayday‘s nose. With a small smile, you excuse yourself to track down where Miguel went. “Captain?” Your voice is quiet and unsure as you walk into the office, trying to see if he’s up on the platform or not. 

You get no response before you’re swinging up there, unsure of where else he would’ve gone. Sure enough, he’s sitting, hunched over facing away from you. “I brought you something, you don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to I suppose.” You try to speak as softly as possible, minimizing the echo in the office. Placing it down in front of him, he picks his head up just the slightest bit to see what it is. Instantly, he lurches up and you think you’ve seriously done it now, stepped a bit too far over the boundary that you already crossed. 

Instead of being chewed out, he instantly pulls you to him, wrapping you in his arms. “Thank you.” He mumbles, clearly trying to avoid voice cracking. You let the silence comfort the two of you, too scared to talk in case it sends Miguel over the edge he was so desperately trying to come back from. It’s nice, your arms wrapping around his waist and holding him close. 

Everything seemed to be going positive and only up in your friendship, you two were happy and well-working co-workers. However, this promptly ended when you slipped up during a mission, made a dumb move for someone else, and got hurt pretty badly. 

You, Jess, and Miguel were fighting together to catch a doc-ock from about 100 years in the future (from Miguel’s world anyway.) Jess had slipped just as razor-sharp blades were flying toward her. What would’ve originally hit her stomach, was not going for her throat. Without a second thought, you had jumped in front of her to avoid the for-sure deadly strike. It caught your ribs, slicing deep to the bone. Jess sprung up, grabbing you and opening a portal without a second thought and leaving Miguel behind. “Fuck, fuck Jess, hurts bad.” You groan, hands flying to your wound in a feeble attempt to stop the blood from pouring out. It soaks everything it touches, your hand completely red and your forearm soon to be.

In a blur, you’re rushed to the medic bay and onto a bed. The entire time, you’re groaning, writhing in pain. “What were you thinking?!” His voice is unmistakable as he storms into the med bay, quickly finding his spot next to your bed as he accesses the damage you took. “Stupid, stupid move, y/n. Idiotic, even.” He’s mumbling more that you can’t quite catch, and you’re too out of it to even try and understand the broken Spanish. “Can't believe you two.” 

Jess cries next to you, holding your hand where it rests on the bed. “Jess would’ve died.” You grit as his hand presses against your wound to slow the bleeding, making you cry out. “Captain!” You scream, hands flying to grab his wrists as you continue to writhe. It’s bad, your hands instinctively clawing at his forearms to try and get him away even for a moment. Easily overpowering you, he doesn’t let up. 

“I know, I know I'm sorry, mi sol.” His words fall on deaf ears as you scream. The pain is unbearable as you go in and out of consciousness, doing your best to remain conscious of Jess’s emotional state. You’re completely out as you get stitched and cleaned up, your body is completely spent and your adrenaline begins to wear off.

The very first time you wake up, Miguel is next to you. His forehead rests on his palms, hunched over in the chair next to you. Your voice is too weak, so you simply reach out and take hold of his arm. “Menos mal que estás bien.” His voice is soft as he takes your hand in his, holding it up to his forehead. “You’re okay,” Miguel mumbles, pulling your hand down a bit to his cheek. You smile, flattening your hand to hold the side of his face in your palm.

“Sorry,” You speak, and he gives you a confused look at what you could be apologizing for. “About your arm, and fucking up the mission.” There are scratches all along his forearm, and you’re about 90% positive it had to be from you. 

“No, no. Don’t even worry about anything.” He speaks, shuffling slightly to stand up. Miguel places your hand gently back down to your stomach. “And what I said about that mission, that was just- I was-“ He can't even finish what he wants to tell you. 

“Please don’t leave me.” You mumble, realizing that he’s definitely about to run away. Miguel huffs heavily, his chest rising and falling. He has a sorry look on his face, and you know him well enough to know he’s not sticking around long. Leaning down, he wraps you in his arms, holding you close and protectively to his chest. It hurts, bad, but you’re not going to tell him as you soak it in. “O’Hara,” Tears cloud your vision. 

“I’m sorry, y/l/n.” And just like that, he’s disappearing. Recovery is a bitch, worse than the initial injury. You’re grateful for everyone visiting you in the med bay, but not once do you see Miguel even for a status update. 

Since then, he’s completely detached again. No longer leaving you coffee, ignores the lunch you bring him every day, not entertaining any of your conversations. You’re somehow completely back to the day you joined. 

Due to this incident, you naturally brush against each other, butting heads on almost everything now. This continued for a while, still remaining relevant here and there to this day. You can see Miguel shake his head as Jess and spider cat come in, they need all the help they can get, before he springs into action again. He’s scary, with fangs, claws, and running on all fours now. Maybe you’ve ticked him off a bit too much. you make a mental note to “STFU when O’Hara gets back” out of fear you’ve created this. (Not an uncommon occurrence.) 

With Jess and Spider Cat, they’re able to wrangle up the remaining anomalies and come back to HQ. The door slamming open startles you, and the mental note you made earlier is in full swing, sirens and all going off in your head. Your lips are sealed more than ever. You can feel his glances, before he quickly turns away, just to look back at you. He’s working himself up to chew your ass out, for sure. This is usually the look that he gives to Hobie when he’s being an idiot. The only thing you can do is turn your gaze down and continue searching through the multiverse for anything unusual. 

“Really? Really, you did the one thing I told you not to do?” Miguel carries on and you’re sure he’s pacing the platform as usual, “¿Por qué? ¿Por qué sigo dando órdenes?“ (Why? Why do I keep giving orders?) He continues to get himself going. 

You don’t know what to say to possibly make the situation better, so you continue your work. “Oh? And now you’re just not gonna talk to me, huh? I see how it is, ya veo cómo es.” (I see how it is.)

“I figured I was helping, O’Hara.” You spit, moving your screens aside to glare up at him. “You know?? Doing the one thing I’m here for? I don’t understand why you think me helping the team is somehow to spite you.” His eyes are beginning to turn red and you’re quick to flash your projections up once more to avoid the glare that is surely targeted at you. Your suit suddenly feels too right around the neck, strangling you. 

“Hmm, hmm.” Miguel nods, turning around on his platform and giving you the silent treatment from here on out. Eventually, he would break, you’re sure of it, have to ask you for something eventually. To your dismay, you’re the first one that has to break the silence in the suffocating room. 

“There's an anomaly on Earth 295-“ 

“Go get it. Since you want to micromanage anyways, you got it.” It’s not encouragement at all, the opposite really. With an exasperated sigh, you get up from your desk and begin to make your way out into the lobby. Rounding up a group of people, you set off to catch the anomaly. It’s easy, a routine capture before you’re dragging the man back through your portal. With another sigh, you shove open the doors to your shared office and plop down into your chair. No other words are exchanged for the rest of the day, the two of you doing your work while passing another in silence. 

You wish you could work alongside Lyla in her artificial intelligence database. Clocking out for the night, you’re preparing to open your portal and crash land somewhere in your city. Anything is better than being here. “I need you to stay tonight for overnight surveillance.” Miguel breaks the silence just as you’re about to press the open button, your arms immediately falling to your sides and your head was thrown back. 

“Fuck you, O’Hara.” You groan, leaving your office and heading up to the overnight dorms to begin your night surveillance. God, you hate him. You joined the society to make the universe better, all of the multiverses better, not to be picked on by some oversized man in a tight-ass hologram suit. Plopping down at your desk in the dorm, you curse O’Hara out in your head. Scanning through your brain, there’s literally nothing you can think of to make the situation better. He simply hates you because he can’t handle everything on his own, you’re sure he’s just projecting but it’s infuriating regardless. The whole night, every second of the surveillance shift, you become more and more irritated. 

It’s 7 am when you crawl out of your dorm, running on 5 minutes of accidental sleep and spite. You’re technically supposed to be at your desk at 7, but at this point who cares. If he says one thing, one single thing to you, “You know you’re 3 minutes late-“ And you’re ripping off your watch and hurling it at his head. Miguel, spider sense less, doesn’t feel it coming and gets absolutely clobbered in the side of the head. You hope it bleeds, truly, as your chest heaves. 

“Fuck, you, O’Hara,” You grit, turning around and beginning to make your way out of the stupid office, away from his stupid little platform, and his stupid little dramatic face. Like an idiot, he chases, “All I do is fucking help you, stick my neck out for these missions, bust my ass, and nothing. You take the credit and I get yelled at for helping.” You're beyond angry, fists clenched at your side- 

“Just put your watch back on estúpida, you’re gonna glitch-“ He watches as you do just that, never crumbling or falling as you turn to glare at him. Scary, that was scary. He’s never seen someone withstand their literal atoms glitching, let alone being so angry they’re able to move also. Still on you’re feet, Miguel ignores the smart part of his brain that tells him to move away from you. 

“All because pretty boy,” You’re stepping closer to him, and Miguel takes all the strength in his body to not cower away from you. Forcing himself to stand tall like always, he takes whatever you’re about to give him, finger digging into his chest, “Can’t take the fact that he can’t control everything. Pushes everyone away, would rather the multiverse weaken than admit he needs some fuckin help, and everyone just believes it. Holds their heads high with the assumption everything is fine, they’re doing their job, getting their pats on the back. It’s such a shame you’re so attractive O’Hara, because it’s ruined by that fucking personality of yours.” Maybe you’re being too mean, but if you don’t say it no one else ever will. At the commotion, a few heads begin to look over at the two of you. 

“Can we please talk, in private, where people aren’t staring at us-“ 

“I’m going home. I’m going through that stupid freaky spider machine, that has a stupid name by the way, and leaving the team,” You say, definitive as you tear yourself away from Miguel and began the trek towards Margo’s office (essentially.) 

“Can we please talk like adults, y/n?” Miguel still follows, this time grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you back harder than he really meant to. He’s strong, much stronger than you, so it’s no surprise that you almost fly backward into his chest. He catches you by the waist, only making your anger bubble more. Glaring up at him, you can see a flash of emotion rush across his face before it’s gone just as fast. “Please, y/n.” 

Miguel isn’t a beggar, never has been, in fact, you can’t even remember if you’ve ever heard him say please before now. “To the office?” You force a grin as the group of eyes on the two of you continues to grow. Miguel offers you a polite nod, placing your watch back on your wrist before allowing you to lead the way. With an annoyed grunt, you eventually make it back to your desk, plopping down in the chair. “If you go up to your platform to talk to me, I’m opening a portal and leaving. Before you even get a word in,” You warn him. 

Miguel walks over with an annoyed sigh, rubbing the wrinkle in between his brows out. “y/n please stay, we need all the help we can-“ His words are cut short as your lurch forward, roughly grabbing his face in your hand. His cheeks are squished together as your fingertips dig into his skin, spinning around. You easily knock him back into the chair you were previously sitting at. “¡Joder! ¡De acuerdo!” (Ah fuck! Okay Okay!)

“Now you need me? All of a sudden, now you need the help.” You hiss, caging him in as you step closer, fingertips digging in even more with each word. You’re basically leaning over him, one of his knees slipping between your legs without even realizing it. Miguel’s hands reach up, timidly wrapping around your wrist in an attempt to calm you down or at least loosen the grip you have on him. 

“Cálmate dulce chica, podemos hablar de esto.” (Calm down sweet girl, we can talk about this.) Miguel offers, a small whimper falling from his lips as he realizes how close you are to him, essentially hovering over his lap. “y/n please-“ It’s nothing short of sin, a loud whine falling past his lips as his hands fly to meet your waist. His big hands almost wrap around you entirely, if he squeezed his fingertips would probably touch together. 

“You’re getting off to this? Really Miguel?” Another groan falls from his lips, you never call him Miguel. Never, it’s always O’Hara or some stupid nickname you picked up from the kids because you thought they were funny. There’s a small smirk on your face, making Miguel’s eyes narrow with lust as it’s clear you’re very amused by his situation. His mind almost melts as you finally sit, your knees on either side of his hips. You fill his senses, judgment beginning to cloud as your smell fills his nose and voice his ears. “You are, huh?” You draw out, the slightest bit of humor behind your voice. 

“You’re just, ah fuck, so pretty when you’re yelling at me,” Miguel speaks, a bit muffled as you haven’t released him yet from your grip. Finally, you let go of his cheeks, leaving behind faint red dots where your fingertips once were. “So soft, warm,” He continues as his mind becomes fuzzier by the second, hands pawing at your suit material. He wants nothing more than for it to be gone right now and for a brief moment, he thinks about ripping through it. He can give you one like his, yeah, he thinks as he rationalizes. 

“You gonna be good? Let me see you?” You mumble and break his train of thought, hands trailing over his suit that is technically molecules that he’s learned to manipulate over the years. With a small nod, he removes the fabric where your hands trail, leaving open skin for you to touch. The rest of his suit remains intact, only his front opening for you. “Naughty naughty,” You tease at his lack of underwear or boxers, ghosting your fingers across his head to tease him even more. Without explanation, you climb off his lap and step away. 

“y/n? Fuck, what’s wrong-“ His worry ceases as you begin pulling your suit off, the skin-tight fabric being dropped on the desk space next to you. “Oh Dios, vas a ser mi muerte.” (Oh god, you’re going to be the death of me.) He knows you don’t understand Spanish fluently, only picking up bits and pieces of his expressions. In this case, you caught death and that’s about all you understood. 

“You know I don’t understand, Miguel.” You tease as you crawl back onto his lap only in a bra and panties, seated securely on his big thighs. Leaning forward, your hands find their place naturally in his hair. “Let’s talk like adults, hm?” You mock him from earlier, a sick smirk spread fully across your face. “Go ahead, tell me everything you wanted to earlier, or else I’m taking my watch off and going home~” You almost sing song, soaking in the hint of misery it gives him. 

“I just wanted to say- haaaa fuck,” You catch Miguel off guard as your lips find his jaw, hot kisses soon spreading down to his neck. You mark him thoroughly, you wanna leave a part of yourself with him. 

“C'mon, O’Hara, or I'm leaving.” You continue to warn. 

“I, we need you here. I know I’ve been, shit shit,” His train is thrown off as you press yourself closer to him, pinning his cock in between your stomachs as your hips search for friction, “Mean to you recently. It’s just because, ah ah, I liked you. But I couldn’t express this because of our circumstances. And when you got hurt, it scared me because I realized how much you actually meant to me. So instead of liking you I thought hating you would push you away and it would eventually dissipate. But you’re so stubborn it only made things worse because you refused to go to a different department at least.” 

“I see.” You barely give him a response as you suck dark hickeys into his chest, peering up at him to catch his expression. “Miguel, let me ride your fingers,” He groans, nodding his head as his palm slides closer to where you need him. 

One of his palms remains on your waist, the heat spreading from his hand to your body. It feels as if you’re on fire, blood molten lava as it flows throughout your body. As much as you’ve hated him recently, he’s still incredibly attractive. And to have him this pliant and finally following your instructions? An added bonus. Your breath hitches as he runs across your clit, running across the small bead as your hips reactively pick themselves up to give him better access. 

“Fuck, so pretty like this, finally listening to my instructions,” You fill the silence, hands falling to hold Miguel’s head in them. “You gonna let me kiss you, O’Hara? Or is that too intimate for you?” 

“I want nothing more, please do.” He groans as you immediately lean forward, lips clashing as you starve for a taste of him. He kisses you back with a matched fury, his palm siding up to hold your torso against him. He swallows your moans as he begins his ministrations, sinking his middle finger completely into you. The kiss is messy, the only thing grounding you as he inserts another finger, expertly finding what makes you tick. Tongues pressing against tongues, lips swollen, moans, and panting breaths mix together. 

“Close, O’Hara,” You warn, “If you stop, I’ll kill you,” A genuine threat as your grip falls to his neck, loosely choking him. It makes him whine, more focused on pleasing you more than ever now. Your hips begin meeting his hand, chasing a high you so desperately need now. You’re soaked, the sound bouncing off the office walls surely embarrassing beyond belief if you were thinking straight. Your free hand finds Miguel’s lips, thumb brushing along his lips and revealing his canines, giant fangs that stick out farther than his other teeth. “Coming,” You whine, losing your grip on him almost entirely as your face falls into the crook of his shoulder, riding out your high. 

“C'mon, cum for me. So pretty, y/n, shaking around my hand.” Miguel encourages you, thoroughly prolonging your orgasm as he targets the spot inside and your poor aching clit. He stops only when your hips drop, no longer able to withstand the abuse. “Fuck, so pretty y/n, all for me,” Miguel continues, pulling you close as your lips reconnect, this time rough. Your hands pull his hair harshly, head tilting back as he whines into your mouth. 

“Gonna ride your pretty cock, get myself off,” You mumble into his mouth, causing him to groan in response. Miguel’s more than happy to let you, puppy dog eyes and all as you pull yourself away from him. He’s big, and you’re sure you’re not completely stretched as much as you’d like but you’re in too deep now. Lining yourself up, it’s a rough start. Miguel’s hands fly to your waist, not pushing but simply squeezing as his head falls back. His face is squeezed hard, whines falling past soft lips before he can think to stop them. “So big, fuck fuck,” Whimpering, you sink slowly inch by inch as you will yourself to take him. 

“Shit y/n. fuck, haaa fuck fuck, tight,” Miguel babbles, unable to hold it back. Taking the last few inches, you lean forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, desperately needing something to hold onto. “So good, please move, please feels good, so deep,” Miguel feels like his mind is melting, completely pussy drunk as he shamelessly begs for you. You grind against him, trying to get a feel for how big he is before you hurt yourself. Rolling your hips slightly, you effortlessly pull moans from the both of you. 

Your bodies are completely pressed together as you pick your hips up and slam them down, body heat suffocating but so good at the same time. Your face finds itself in Miguel’s neck, moans and whines being muffled into his skin. Miguel holds onto you for dear life, almost bruising the skin underneath his fingers. Your pace is brutal, once again chasing your high with no other regard in mind. His hands begin to hurt, definitely bruising the skin underneath. 

“O’Hara.” Your tone is pissed off as you rip his hands away, webbing them to the armrests on either side of you. He could easily rip them, you’re sure, but he won’t, another thing you’re sure of. “Stupid boy, getting rode and doesn’t know what to do with himself,” You taunt, almost feeling his cock jump. It feels too good, he feels too good as he instinctively curls in on himself. “C’mon, don’t get shy on me.” You taunt, wedging your feet on the inside of his thighs and spreading them. 

“Your stupid boy,” He babbles back, picking his head up more fully to watch how you use him, relentlessly fucking him. “So good, so pretty.” He can see the tip of his cock in your stomach, bordering crazy he’s sure. His fists ball at his sides, doing his best to be good. “Gonna cum soon, you feel too good.” 

“Hmm, I’m not stopping until I cum.” You warn him graciously. You’re about 95% sure it goes in one ear and out the other, too distracted to fully register your words. “Do what you want, Mig, just remember that.” Once again, he definitely doesn’t comprehend as he eagerly nods at the approval. 

As his high approaches, his hips begin grinding up into you, chasing his own release. You allow it, having already warned him more times than you should’ve. “Coming, nghhh ahh fuck, fuck,” And he does, hips driving forward as he cums as deep as possible. You entertain it, sinking down fully and grinding against him as you coax him through it. You can feel his thighs shake underneath you as his hips rest back down on the chair, head thrown back as his chest heaves. 

“Oh, Mig, sweet boy.” You tease, voice flowing through his ears like honey. “I haven’t cum yet.” Finally, you’re getting through to him as you pick your hips back up, dropping down with a wet smack. 

“y/n, wait! Shit, fuck, nhghhhh ah ah,” Miguel is so overstimulated, thighs shaking slightly as his hips buck. You’re once again chasing your high, using him completely as your toy now. “Please I can’t-“ Tears prick his eyes as his head picks up to meet yours, muscles flexed as he pulls against his restraints. Your grip meets his throat, stopping his whining momentarily. 

“I warned you, be good for me and sit still,” You mumble, your free hand reaching for his mouth once again. ”Been so mean to me, so mean Miguel, need to use you. Need to punish you.” You bite into his shoulder, muffling yourself. His whines and moans are nonstop, the overstimulation driving him crazy. Eventually, you pull your head back, finding another sensation to play with. Wedging your fingers into his mouth, Miguel thinks his mind is going to melt. Your fingers run across his fangs, testing the sharpness on the pads of your index and middle. Much to your surprise, (not really), they easily prick the skin and cause blood. Miguel’s tongue is quick to soothe over the two pricks, earning him a loud moan as you run your fingers across his tongue. “My dumb boy, all pussy drunk, overstimulated, just so stupid, hmm?” 

“Yes, yes,” Is all he can manage with your two fingers in his mouth, beginning to fuck them against his tongue in speed with your own hips. It’s obscene, but the sight makes you clench tightly around his cock, earning you even louder whines. There’s saliva dripping now, so messy as he allows you to do as you please. 

“Fuck, gonna cum. Gonna cum for you, Miguel.” Your thighs are growing tired, Miguel doing his best to pick up the slack and thrust up into you. “Cumming~” It’s barely a warning as your head falls forward, thighs shaking and clamping down around Miguel’s hips. He does his best to prolong it, thrusting up with the limited movement you allow him, soon spilling inside you once more as you’re just so tight. 

As you come to, your hips pick themselves up and down a couple more times, fucking his cum into you. “No more, please, no mas, no mas, por favor mami,” (No more, no more, please mami.) Miguel cries, tears slipping as the overstimulation is too much. Your hips still with him still inside, chests heaving as the both of you fight to catch your breaths. Your hands are quick to meet his cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that fall. Leaning forward to kiss the tear stains, Miguel whines as you slide along him. 

“Look at you, absolutely covered in cum, spit, sweat,” You smile, slowly picking your hips up and climbing off his lap. Everything aches, but you’re so satisfied as you wobble over to your suit. Picking it up, you opt for carrying it rather than fighting it over your sticky skin. Miguel looks like the epitome of sex as he remains in the chair, still struggling to recover. “Miguel, you okay?” Your voice is much gentler now, walking over and placing a kiss on his forehead. He nods as you rip through your webs for him, freeing him of his restraints. You offer a soft peck which he takes gratefully, your fingers coming to rub his scalp where you had been tugging at his hair. 

“Miguel?” Carefully climbing into his lap again, you drop your suit over the armrest. “My boy, are you alright?” You pull him close to you, holding his head against your chest as you massage his scalp. You hold him until he comes down fully, placing soft kisses on his forehead and tear-stained cheeks. 

“Yes, mi corazón. Are you okay? Feeling okay?” His hands meet your waist where he had been previously squeezing, rubbing the soon-to-be bruised skin. 

“More than okay.” With one final reassurance peck to his lips, you stand back up fully and grab your suit. You're exhausted, both from night duty and today's festivities, and it’s clear there is no way you’re going to be able to work today. “I’m gonna go home and get some sleep, I had the night shift last night.” The reminder pains Miguel that he really asked you to do that out of spite. “You’re more than welcome to follow, or swing by later.” You offer, tapping on your watch until you carefully open a portal inside your apartment. 

Glancing back once more, Miguel looks cute as he watches you go, suit fully formed once again. You wonder how that works with all the liquid on his skin, but you opt to ask another time. 

“I’ll stop by later,” He offers, not missing the way your face falls slightly. He quickly climbs to his feet, “I just have a couple of things to do here, otherwise I would, I really would trust me.” Miguel explains, big frame easily engulfing you into a hug. His cheer-up protocol works, putting a small smile on your face as you look up at him. 

“I’ll see you later, spidey,” You beam, leaning forward onto your tip-toes to kiss him. He meets you halfway, indulging you. With one final glance back, you step through the portal, waving bye as it closes. 

“I’ll be there!” He promises just as it closes, leaving you two technically universes apart from one another. 

~~~

Hours later, the sound of his portal is unmistakable in your small one-bedroom apartment as it fills the silence and shakes the walls. Peeking your head out of the hall into your living room, his giant frame looks a bit silly in the small area. Nevertheless, the giant smile that spreads across your face is priceless. “You actually came!” You speak, spooking him slightly as you step out from behind the hall wall. 

“What? Of course.” He scoffs, welcoming you with open arms when you approach him. He must’ve gone home and cleaned up, hair seemingly damp and a glow that only a warm shower could give radiating from him. “I wouldn’t miss this for all the multiverses.” 

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #Hobie Brown #jessica drew #Gwen Stacy #Pavitr Prabhakar #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara smut #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel is annoying #but a softie in this #i still think hes a dick in the movie tho #beating up 15 year olds #but he is hot #miguel ohara x reader

[ckret2]

Failed to resist the urge to post a snippet from chapter 16. This is my way of 🤝ing @godsfavoritescientist over the "grieving ex-worshiper who never figured out how to fill the gap left by a false god" Ford characterization.

Ford didn't move. He was still staring at the neon sign of an eyed triangle hanging in the psychic shop's window.

Did the "psychic" who ran this shop actually know what that symbol meant, Ford wondered? Did Bill have a worshiper here? Perhaps just another believer who'd been recruited by one of the micro-cults Bill left in his wake, five degrees removed from a former "student" that Bill had "inspired" and then abandoned half a century ago? Or had Bill met them in their dreams? Had he been summoned up to give them knowledge of the future—did they remember Bill as the central figure in a visionary dream that now made up the core of their spirituality? Maybe he'd visited them more than once, while trying to decide whether they'd be useful to him? Perhaps he'd been grooming the fortune teller into his minion, feeding them lines he wanted to pass on to a local politician or scientist? Did he ever play board games with them?

Did they worship him still?

Did they know their god was dead?

####

There'd been an ache in Ford's chest for over thirty years—an empty pit that once held awe—a dark void that used to be filled with starlight. Ford knew now that, metaphorically speaking, the divine light Bill put off had never been anything but optical illusions with flashlights and mirrors. But even so—even so, nothing and nobody had inspired such sublime wonder in Ford since.

During his lowest moments out in the multiverse, starving and exhausted and despairing, he'd irrationally wondered if the unimpressable depression left in Bill's wake was evidence that Bill had been truly that great, too great for a human like Ford to understand, and the shadow cast on his life in Bill's absence was the natural consequence of turning away from something godlike.

Ford had gotten over that. He'd recovered, he'd grown. He understood the truth: Bill's parlor tricks had dazzled his eyes so thoroughly that now he couldn't detect the subtler glimmer of the truly wondrous. He wondered if his eyes would ever adjust to the dark again.

Whether he liked it or not, he missed the way mind-blowing awe felt. He missed being dazzled. 

There were days when he wasn't sure what he resented Bill for more: vomiting so much glittery garbage into his soul, or stopping.

#gravity falls #grunkle ford #bill cipher #(and even though this is technically platonic I think it's worth tagging—) #billford #(—since like the intensity is there) #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(and four sentences later ford discovers bill pilfered some research from his briefcase and scribbled a coded message in purple crayon)

[themirokai]

I was rewatching A Hope in Hell (fast forwarding through the John Dee parts, sue me) and the thing that my Matthew-obsessed brain latched on to was the conversation about Nada.

Because Matthew asks what the deal was after they leave her, and Dream… just straight up answers him! Just freely offers this very personal, emotionally fraught, and quite unflattering information. There’s no resistance, no arrogant remarks, no “I did not bring you here to question me”. Dream just tells him!

Obviously the Doylist explanation is that they’re not doing voiceover narration so they need to explain who tf Nada is to the audience and the episode has a set run time and they have much bigger stuff to get to and didn’t want to spend time on Dream stonewalling. But BUT there’s a cut between when they leave Nada and when Matthew asks about her, so that dialogue could easily have been written to imply that Matthew spent the intervening time trying to get Dream to tell him and Dream finally gives in. It would have used the same amount of screen time and served the same purpose. And while I’m very willing to assume that the writers/show runners of most shows just didn’t think of things, I’m completely confident that *these* writers and *this* show runner thought of *everything*.

Which gets us to Watsonian explanation, my beloved.

Dream was shaken by the encounter with Nada. Even though he knows that that’s what Lucifer wanted and says as much to Matthew, it worked! And Mr. Contains All The Emotions of the Multiverse And Must Hold Them Back is actually visibly upset. (But like, micro expression visibly upset cause it’s Dream.)

And then this defiant, obnoxious raven who refuses to leave Dream alone, asks about Nada and maybe something in Dream’s mind clicks back to the eons in which he had a raven confidant and he answers. He tells Matthew the truth. A succinct version of the truth, but the truth nonetheless. It may be the first time he’s talked about Nada in ten thousand years. And he chooses to tell Matthew.

And THAT is what I’m pinpointing as the canon jumping off point for Matthew the Emotional Support Raven. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#I do think I get perilously close to Dream being OOC affectionate and caring in the series #but I hope I’ve shown that affection growing over the series #and I do think what I’ve described here is a legit starting point in canon #matthew the raven #dream of the endless #matthew the emotional support raven #the sandman netflix #the sandman #miro does sandman #sandman meta #a hope in hell

[micro-meltdown]

Woo! I'm finally able to slowly built up the habit of drawing everyday again!! (It's nothing fancy, but lil victory!)

Drew Andy, Kidd and another au-oc in blobb form- Enjoy!

#baba talks #babas art #micro au #micro ocs #micro multiverse #microverse #timethy kidd #micro rupty #pumpple pie au #aaf andy

[foxalone]

Yosa took them to a popular restaurant in waiting place jsjs

Underblood and Yosa!Sans belongs to me

Mylim by: @nova2cosmos

Break by: @artistoons-blog-thing

Micro by: @au-mashup-party

Basic by: @susartwork

Ruby by: @rubytale-chapter2

Allí by: just-a-normal-jsad-ask-blog ((¿?))

#undertale au #undertale fandom #undertale art #utmv #undertale multiverse #happy birthdat Mylim #mylim!papyrus #break x mylim #breaktale #inversotale #break!sans #microtale #micro!sans #basic!sans #basic x ruby #ruby!sans #rubytale #underblood #Allí #yosa!sans #mxh members charaters #jsjs

[au-mashup-party]

To: hacker!505

UT sans: hey hacker, are you okay? *He asks him that, then he drinks some eggnog*

UT Sans: I think this eggnog is making me want to kiss fell, even though we don't have lips. *He says to him*

UT Sans: I'm so *hic* drunk... *Hic* *laughing not at hacker, but, with him* HEHEHEHEHE HEHEHEHEHE!!!

UT Sans: please... Don't judge me... Please.... Please... Please... Please... *He looks sad, he then starts bawling his eye sockets out*

UT Sans: I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so so sorry.... I'm sorry.... I didn't mean to.... I'm sorry... I'm very sorry...

@nova2cosmos answer!

Amethyst, Saphir, and Himeros by nova2cosmos

Ruby by @rubytale-chapter2

Micro, Rosey, and Hacker by me

Basic by @susartwork

@parniathedevil ‘s answer!

Okay since there were so many questions I decided to combine them all into one mega question, also, I didn’t color anything to save time which is a relief because I got it done faster!

#mega ask #undertale au #undertale multiverse #undertale blog #sans aus #ask hacker: chrismas edition #hacker error 505 #ruby!sans #basic!sans #himeros!sans #micro!sans #baby blithe #cpau #amethyst!sans #rosey!sans #resident!sans #undertale christmas #christmas au #christmas party au

[originallandlockedmariner]

2023

Pickleball. Generative AI. Lula takes office in Brazil, Amazon Rainforest throws a party. Prince Harry refusing to stop talking about his frozen penis no matter how many times society begged him to stop. UFOs are real. Viral cat dubbed ‘largest cat anyone has ever seen’ gets adopted. Pee-Wee’s big adventure ends. Musk & X. Turkey-Syria earthquake kills thousands. India surpasses China as ‘country squeezing in the most peeps’. Tucker Carlson ousted. Miss USA and her 30 lbs moon costume. Wildfires in Kelowna and Hawaii. Macron tinkers with retirement age of the French. Paltrow can’t ski. Big Red Boots. Bob Barker leaves us. Alabama mom delivers 2 babies from her 2 uteruses in 2 days. Charles III. Ukrainian counteroffensive against Russian forces as the war drags on. Taylor Swift is Time’s Person of the Year. African ‘coup belt’. Flo-Jo dies in her sleep. Chinese spy balloon shot down. Hollywood writers strike. Human ‘nice mugshot’ Shitstain and his 91 indictments. Highest interest rates in 2 decades. The Bear’s Christmas episode. War in Gaza. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Alex Murdaugh. Ocean Cleanup removes 25 000 lbs of trash from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Vase purchased for $3.99 sells for $100 000 at auction. Barbenheimer. A third of Pakistan is flooded. Lionel Messi is the GOAT. Travis Kelce. The Sphere opens in Las Vegas. Regulators seized Silicon Valley Bank and Signature Bank, resulting in two of the three largest bank failures in U.S. history. “The Woman In Me”. WHO declares COVID ain’t a thing no more. Titan sub sinks, rich people die. Matthew Perry drowns. Dumbledore Dies (again). Massive sales of ‘Fuck Trudeau’ flags for jacked-up micro-dick trucks. Everything Everywhere All At Once. June-August was the hottest three-month period in recorded history across the Earth. Tina Turner dies. And the Beatles release a new song?! Wow… You got big shoes to fill 2024.

Archives for context:

2020

Kobe. Pandemic. Lockdown. Koalas on fire. Harry and Meg retire. Toilet paper hoarding. Alcoholism. Impeach the f*cker. Parasite. Bonnie Henry. Tiger King. Working from home. Sourdough bread. Harvey Weinstein guilty. Zoom overdose. Dip your body in sanitizer. 6 feet. Quarantine. OK Boomer. Home schooling (everyone passes). Murder hornets. Dolly Parton. Don’t hug, kiss or see anybody, especially your family. Chris Evans’ junk. TikTok. Glory holes. Face masks. CERB. West Coast wildfires. Stay home. Small Businesses lose, big box stores win. F*ck Bozos. ‘Dreams’ and cranberry juice. Close yoga studios, but thumbs up to your local gym. Speak moistly to me. George Floyd. BLM. F*ck Trump. Phase 2, 3 and Summer. RBG. Baby Yoda. Biden wins. Bond and Black Panther die. No more lockdown. Back to school and work. Just kidding... giddy up round 2. Giuliani leaks shit from his head. Resurgence of chess. UFOs are real. Restrictions. Dave Grohl admits defeat. Monolith. “F*ck... forgot my mask in the car”. No Christmas shenanigans allowed. Bubbles. Alex Trebek. Use the term ‘dumpster fire’ one too many times. Jupiter and Saturn form 'Christmas Star'. Happy New Year Bitches!!!! 2021... you better not sh*t the bed!!

2021

“We love you, you’re very special”. Failed coup attempt at the Capital. Twitter, FB and IG ban Donny. Hammerin’ Hank goes to the Field of Dreams. Bozo no longer richest man but still a twat. Leachman, Tyson, and Holbrook pass. The economy is worse than expected. Kim and Kanye split. Brood X cicadas. Dre has an aneurysm and nearly has his home broken into. Bridgerton. MyPillow CEO is a douche. Covid restrictions extended indefinitely. Captain Von Trapp dies. Proud Boys officially a Terrorist Organization. Richard Ramirez. Cancer takes Screech. Travel bans. Impeachment trial (again?… oh and this was barely February? WTF??!!) Suez Canal blockage. Myanmar protest. Kong dukes it out with Godzilla, while Raya watches. Olympics. Friends compare elective surgeries. F9. Canada Women’s Soccer Gold. Free Britney. Multiverses. Residential Schools in Canada unearth children’s bodies. Kate is Mare of Easttown. Cuomo resigns. Disney and Dwayne cruise together. Wildfires. Delta variants. Musk passes Bezos. Candyman x 5. Capt. Kirk goes to space. F*ck Kyle Rittenhouse. Astros didn’t win. Squid Game. Goodbye Bond. Dune is redone. Angelina is Eternal. Astroworld deaths. Meta. Omicron. Three Spidermen. Tornados in December? World Juniors cancelled. Pills against Covid. School opening delayed. And Betty White dies. 2022… my expectations are ridiculously low…

2022

Wow… eight billion people. Queen Elizabeth II passes away after ruling the Commonwealth before dirt was invented. The monkeypox. Russia plays the role of global a**hole. Wordle. Mother Nature rocks Afghanistan. Hover bike. Styles spits on Pine. Olivia Newton John, Kristie Alley, and Coolio leave us. Pele was traded to team Heaven. FTX implodes. Madonna and the 3-D model of her vagina. Pig gives his heart to a human. Beijing can brag that it is the first city ever to host both the Summer Olympics and Winter Olympics. Uvalde. $3 trillion Apple. Keith Raniere gets 120 years. The Whisky War ends with Canada and Denmark going halfsies. Mar-a-Lago. Nick Cannon brood hits a dozen. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Inflation goes through the roof (if you can actually afford to put a roof over your head). Volodymyr Zelensky. European heat wave. Bennifer. Salman Rushdie is stabbed on stage, Dave Chappelle tackled, and Chris Rock is only slapped. Thích Nhất Hạnh. Heidi Klum goes full slug. Cuba knocked out by Ian. Liz Truss and 4.1 Scaramuccis. Taylor Swift breaks Ticketmaster. Human shitstain Elon Musk ignores helping mankind and buys Twitter instead. Riri becomes a mommy. NASA launches Artemis 1. Trump still a whiny little b*tch. Music lost Loretta Lynn, Christine McVie, and Meat Loaf. Democracy died at least three times. Pete Davidson continues to date hottest women on the planet (no one understands how?!) Microplastics in our blood. Alex Jones is a c*nt. So is DeSantis. Argentina wins the World Cup. Meghan and Harry. Eddie Munson rips Metallica in the Upside Down. tWitch. Roe vs Wade is overturned by the micro dick energy of the Supreme Court. CODA. James Corden shows he is a "tiny Cretin of a man". Amber (and the sh*t on the bed) Heard (round the world). Sebastian Bear-McClard proves he’s one of the f*cking dumbest men alive. Latin America's ‘pink tide’. Anti-Semitic rants by Ye. Bob Saget. A verified blue checkmark. Godmother of punk Vivienne dies. And, Tom Cruise feels the need for speed yet again. 2023… whatcha got for us?!? Nothing shocks me anymore.

@daily-esprit-descalier

#me #my words #doodles

[bella-rose29]

episode 3 - Doubt Thou the Stars

major spoilers for the show and books, swearing, I go feral on multiple occasions, spent most of this simping for cam/lockwood and I'll apologise now for some of the things I've said (multiverse of George I'm blaming you for a couple)

I would just like to reiterate that this is not a proper analysis of the show, this is my immediate reactions to what happens in the show. barely anything constructive is actually said in here 👍

a ring is what we're looking at

Georgie I love you

hands (oh dear starting early)

hands again

"which you stole illegally" honey-

you have me in a chokehold lockwood

hehehe fairfax

"George, this... negativity, it's why I don't tell you things in advance" first of all I am weirdly obsessed with the way he says that, second of all I wanna give George a hug

hands

ok but who gave cam the right to look that good

"miss Kingston got her hair done special" George I love you

"straight into the office. that's a classy move"

omg I love lucy's jumper

his cheeky smile omg

hands

ring

"you lie like a politician" yeah bc he has to

you can do any job for me lockwood

hands and ring

absolutely we have a deal I'll do anything for you

hands (omg I need to stop)

they're children how did they get alcohol

bottle opener thingy scene

omg Georgie in his apron and gloves 😭

so sad we didn't get the "nice... towel" scene

barnes is so sinister sometimes

I love lockwood and george's friendship, just yelling at each other about cleaning

ooo green lighting when she's taking the keys

tut tut

"I visit my gran in Sidcup" "...sidcup is in London"

"you've got a real hard-on for him, haven't you" "well, if... you wanna put it like that"

"I'm practically a serf" aw lockwood honey

all I can think is the Traitors castle even though I know it's not the same

lockwood's so pretty

oh lord what the hell was that look lockwood don't lower your head with that intense gaze wtf

"apart from anything else, we've got much better flares" 😂

don't you just love it when someone who doesn't have any clue about your job tells you how to do your job

lots of smashing

he's fishing (where tf did he get a fishing rod from)

hands

his grin omg

oh crikey this boy needs sleep I can see his eye bags even though the lighting is dim and my room is bright

"What, and deny us all this... beautiful moment?" you're a beautiful moment- wait that doesn't make sense

his smile I am on the floor

aaa suspense I don't like it

omg we get to see George's Touch again I love that

ew cobwebs

hands

well that was silly

oh no

you can disrespect me anytime woah what is happening to me holy shit

EXTREME CLOSE UP

ewwww cobwebs

I could never be an agent I have arachnophobia

ok those special effects were awesome

"probably wanted to warn us not to go down there" *proceed to go down there*

Lockwood say what's on your mind

ok I get why Ali said that the monks were terrifying that chanting haunts me still

turn your torches off you'll see the ghosts better

ohh I don't like this

Lucy no

LUCY NO

LUCY NOOOOOO

aw the boys saved her

hands

"make a wish" I wish for you to marry me and we live happily ever after

slap

"my cheek hurts"

husband calls out pathetically for wife after waking up, she crawls over and he reaches desperately for her hand

"oi, where's his slap?" fair

hahaha the way they just drop to the floor

you look so silly in those goggles

lockwood's voice is doing Things to me

I love that you can see Ellie rethinking as Fairfax goes on

"we don't travel round with it, we're not insane" *while focused on Lucy*

"you're just a performer too, aren't you?" we love a masking king

MICRO-EXPRESSIONS!!! CAMERON CHAPMAN THE MAN YOU ARE

"She stole it again, Lockwood" yep

I love that you can sort of make out the flowers on her dress

oh christ that was scary

ew old man burning

hands

heavy breathing lockwood (I blame the multiverse of George chat for that)

"I'm working with maniacs" got room for another one?

why did Ellie think it would be a good idea to try and run straight through the middle

"Shut up!" their faces afterwards

kipps pls stop sounding so smug

dw I believe you lockwood

punch me like that wall pls

barnes looks so sad

omg he's being a protective dad

hands

ohhhhh lockwood in a proper suit 🪣 (bad timing for it I know)

"do you know my name?" George I love you

"that's a shame, she was a fool but... she really fitted in there actually" *lockwood nudges him* George I love you even more and I think we would be the bestest of friends

I love the lavender in the pockets of Penelope and Ellie

hands

omg Lucy's drawing! like she said her hobby was in the books!

hand + ring

*George casually pulls out stolen evidence*

I want lucy's jumper

the way lockwood's sat on the chair has me weak

"You belong here" *stares at her with heart eyes*

hehehe

hehehe

oh dear

why does he keep sprawling on the chair

I don't want to talk about the sound I just made at that one frame of lockwood

"She's good, and... she's finally starting to get me" aw Georgie I love you

"she's a lot tougher than you think" *thumps as Lucy passes out*

I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE SOUND I JUST MADE AT THE OTHER ONE FRAME OF LOCKWOOD (YOU ALL KNOW THE ONE) - "Luce?" shgisuhuigjd

seriously who gave him the right

#belle's episode commentaries #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #quill kipps #montague barnes