#my brain is swiss cheese fuck

[burymeinblack2022]

you know what really gets my goat... all the people on that sub got to experience at least 4.5 decades of life. they got to explore and travel, they went to college, they found love, built families, established careers and got their name out there, they got to make some sort of mark in the world....all of them except for the kid. this dude was only 4 years (maybe 3) younger than me. he was barely a legal adult, still a teenager. prob didn’t even know much life outside of school, prob was only now starting or hadn’t been to college yet, hadn’t had a chance to experience life as an adult yet.... and he wasn’t even really supposed to be on that sub. 

he *didn’t* want to go. he was TERRIFIED. he was the only person on that stupid tuna can death trap with any semblance of common sense. dude basically got dragged there by his rich ass dad  (literally the richest family in pakistan for crying out loud) bc yall know how it is with rich ppl (SPECIALLY the billionaires) : business over everything, live to work but don’t work to live, family is secondary, etc etc...dude probably didnt get to spend much time with his dad bc he most likely wasnt around most of the time and was all work work work but knew he (the dad) wanted to go, prob wanted him to go as well and tried persuading him to join. and even though something didn’t feel right to him, it was father’s day weekend and he must have felt like he owed it to his dad to go and took the risk bc he trusted his dad/wanted to make him happy even though his gut feeling said not to and he really didn’t want to do it. ik he ‘was an adult’ technically, but he was literally only 19 and parental approval gets people to do stupid shit they probably wouldnt otherwise do against their better judgement...  

they literally confirmed (his aunt) he only went to bond with his dad...and instead his dad basically dragged him to both their deaths....this is so fucked. irresponsible and selfish. everyone else knew damn well at their big ages that was stupid and it was only a matter of time before something seriously tragic happened. and this guy knew better than to drag his kid into this knowing he probably would do it just bc it was his dad and a grown ass adult that could probably be trusted bc he’s ‘wiser and more experienced in life and knows better than a 19 y.o’ ...and now they’re all dead. literally fuck off for this

#rip to that kid and that kid only. maybe the old expert too but he knew better the kid def didnt deserve this tho. fuck his dad for that #oceangate #the titanic #titanic #titanic sub #titanic submersible #titanic submarine #wow anna said something #anna's shitposts #i read abt this and now im fiery bc i suspected this but now im ughhhhh #*im just #anyway this situation has turned my brain into swiss cheese i need sleep for several days and get the men in black mindwipe

[cowboy-robooty]

imma be real with u guys i actually unironically love danganronpa but only the source content i hate 99.99999% of fan content so fucking much.

LISTEN THIS IS A HETALIA BLOG NONE OF US ARE BETTER THAN DANGANRONPAERS AND EVERYONE WHO IS UNAWARE NEEDS TO UNDERSTAND DANGANRONAPERS TREAT KOKICHI THE WAY HETALIA FANS TREAT ENGLAND. EXCEPT WORSE. SOMEHOW 100000x WORSE

#AND IM 20 FEET UNDER IN THIS HETALIA SHITSHOW I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT PEOPLE BEEN DOING TO ENGLAND SINCE 2008 #DANGANRONPA IS REALLY FUCKING GOOD ITS HILARIOUS #ALL THE CHARACTERS HAVE SWISS CHEESE FOR BRAINS #THE GAME IS FUN I LIKE THE MINI GAMES I THINK IT LOOKS GREAT YES I LIKE THE FUCKASS DANGANRONPA STANCE ITS FUNNY #THE FIRST GAME IS THE BEST ONE BECAUSE NGL THEY WERE NOT PUSHED THAT HARD TO KILL EACHOTHER LOL #AND ALSO THERES AN ENTIRE PART WHERE U GOTTA CONVINCE ONE KF THE CHARACTERS THAT ANOTHER ONE ISNT A GHOST #AND ALSO BYAKUYA TELLS TOKO TO STOP TALKING AND SHE STRAIGHT UP DOESNT FOR LIKE 2 DAYS AND NOBODY CARES LOL #toko is actually an incredible acomplishment because she is so genuinely insufferable and awful and everybody hates her for half the game #and then somehow by the end of it she hasnt changed but you just like her now its an amazing phenomenon #i cant think of a single other character that ive thought to be the actual worst and then later i like them so much even tho they havent #changed at all #bruh in universe shes hated too like theres that part where junko kidnaps everyones loved ones and we see peoples families n shjt #and then toko only has her goddamn pet stink bug #now that nobody likes danganronpa anymore (thank god) ill make my clearing kokichis name post one day... BECAUSE OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE YOU #PEOPLE DONE TO HIM #HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM HE DOESNT SLIT HIS WRISTS HES A GAMER

[bylertruther]

hey guys just checking in to say that i am um Fucking Dying out here 👍

edit: thank you for your support, friends 🥺🫶

#learning to draw simply so that i can draw all of my horror au ideas and also knight mike . please god let me get knight mike on paper #the images are eating my brain and making holes in it like swiss fucking cheese i need to get them OUTTTTTTTTT

[goldkirk]

god how much more of my life am i just missing memories of. When is this gonna STOP. I’m so tired of this

#am i going to have to keep doing this for years #is my life just always going to be Swiss cheese memory and variable functioning and variable working memory #and sometimes you can remember and sometimes you can’t even when you could remember yesterday and you wrote a note about it #etc etc #i don’t understand why my memory is so fucked up #and please don’t go it’s the trauma I know it’s the trauma but i still don’t understand #it’s just gotten WORSE over the past several years I made all these good changes I’ve gotten healthier I broke the cycle in my family #when do I get to have a working brain? when I can I trust that tomorrow when I wake up I’ll have skills i previously learned and they won’t #vanish overnight to show up again ten months later like they never left? #when am i going to stop remembering the same thing twenty times but never remembering I remembered it until i see a post or a note that i di #I’m just tired of this #I’m tired #i don’t see anyone else having memory issues like this and i don’t understand what I’m doing wrong #shh katie

[jtbb]

this adhd shit is so scary i genuinely feel like i don't have free will atp

#fuck this sounds like a shitpost but im dead serious #i dont know how im even still Alive theres so many things im forgetting all day every day my brain feels like swiss cheese #i know if i didnt worry so much it would probably make things so much easier i seriously need to just Stop Caring sometimes. #but there is nothing worse than being faced with the consequences of my own inactions

[dragon-zena]

none of my dnd party members follow me on here i can talk about floris freely

#so we're playing a homebrew setting that's essentially set in a very very vast and mostly unexplored dungeon #fake light as the sun and the dungeon has 'hearts' #and these dungeons are essentially alive #my character is essentially a mimic created/born in the dungeon. and it just like #watched one of the families in the dungeon cities move around #and the child of one of the families (age 20) stormed off and got lost. and mimics are ambush predators #so long story short the mimic has accidentally stolen this persons identity #but she doesnt know that she's done this. because it was pre-sentience. meaning that her memory is fucked #she retained Some memory of what happened. her behaviors are all chalked up to trauma (which she does have. just secondhand) #its been years since then #but like by god listen to me floris is just A Guy . having body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria and trauma and swiss cheese brain #and she's learning how to be A Person. and it's still hard #and it's like. eventually her party (at the very least) will know what she actually is. and theyll all have to acknowledge it #and i wonder what the reactions will be #excited and scared everyone be niceys to her #floris

[deermouth]

I want to have things to say but I'm just sitting here in awe of Whale Phrenology Chapter.

#currently reading #moby dick #desc in alt text #it's. hm. ok thanks. #yessss ive been reading this for like 3 months shhhhh my brain is swiss cheese #oh fuck wait also next chapter immediately #'the whale like all things mighty wears a false bow to the common world' ok go off

[kutyozh]

evvvery single time a heatwave hits my town i'm like omg why am i so lazyyy and beat myself up for it and then a cool front shows up and i suddenly have energy again and i'm like. oh. guess the heat really does physically drain me who would have thunk

#. like as i said a good part of it may well be overstimulation #. bc hot air feels 'heavy' on my skin like i feel like it surrounds me like a suit i can't take off #. and that's fucking exhausting #. don't get me started about sweat #. but srsly the weather is a lot cooler rn and suddenly i can think more clearly suddenly i have motivation to do Stuff again #. it's not like i already learnt all that in 2016/17 but alas #. this brain is swiss cheese #personal #about #r.txt

[macarensesangles]

>the

#i vented to some friends about stuff I usually struggle to talk about outside of people im extraordinarily close to #which went well #I talked about some of my concerns and fears and touched on DID #it helped but now im also going through the very classic Denial Bit #which at this point is NO LONGER FUCKING FUNNY CAN I PLEASW STOP FIGHTING WITH MYSELF ABOUT WHETHER I HAVE IT #my brain is so fucking stupid Swiss cheese can I get a replacement

[eohachu]

going insane over the gifset i have scheduled can't wait for the three other people who watched myn bala to reblog it <3

#. i don't normally do parallels bc my brain is too swiss cheese for that #. but THISSSS #. gaaahhh #. the characterisations were just SO GOOD. fuck #personal #r.txt

[catboybashirs]

scratches at the walls really hard let me OUT.

#chatter #if i hauve to spend the rest of this life in the simulation imight honest to god take matters into my own hands. #“you probably still have swiss cheese brain” THOG DONT CARE. RIGHT NOW. THIS EXPERIMENTAL TREATMENR COULD HAVE BEEN A FUCKING EMAIL #vent #ish #do i psychosis tag this. uhhggg. yeah probably #morning sun #i am delusional okaye. dw. im ffffine. as fine as ive been for the past four years anyways which is not saying much #suicide ment #implied at least. #lol

[mbat]

trying to heal from trauma is so annoying. what do you mean i cant wallow in my misery forever. what do you mean further cutting myself off from the world is only making things worse. what do you mean i have to put effort into coexisting with the world normally again. why does getting better take so much effort smh

#the actual bad part is that i dont even know if im doing anything right. i hope so #i hope im not. further damaging my already swiss cheese ass brain #i assume im doing fine cause things arent as bad as before? about the trauma specifically i mean #btw if it wasnt clear this post isnt really all that serious. the actual post i mean #i mean. healing *is* annoying but. its worth it #even though part of me still wishes to wallow in my misery cause at least when im miserable it feels like it was real #like i didnt just make it all up or make up the fact that it hurt me so bad #but anyway. #my post #i wish my trauma was about something normal to be traumatized about and not what it was so i could talk about it not-vaguely #i mean. obviously i wish i wasnt traumatized at all. duh. but you know what i mean #if i have to be. wish it was about LITERALLY ANYTHING FUCKING ELSE #if i ever see those people again. i think i would need to be restrained. tbh

[psychosomaticdeicide]

Y’know, being the person who made the schedule for the next 3 weeks, one would really expect me to know when I’m supposed to come in tomorrow.

#incoherent screeching into the abyss #best guess is 10 to 6 #if not then 11 to 7 #if I have to come in 9 to 5 I’m fully fucked #I’m incredibly responsible. unfortunately my brain is Swiss cheese. #lyre has job!

[reinelefey]

THIS.

This.

/PLACE/

Is somehow the only private space I have left upon the internet, and even this isn't, truly. So I have divided myself. Twitter gets a little honesty. TikTok gets a little honesty. What's a Facebook? And Tumblr gets the largest chunk of my honesty.

But. In all these places, I mask just a little. And tonight I really wish I didn't. Because I really want to be absolutely 1000% not okay, and not have anyone try and make me be okay, but I also want to be REALLY FUCKING PROUD of the fact that I just -FIRST FUCKING TRY- rolled my first blunt. With SHEER DETERMINATION, I managed to roll a damn fine blunt. And gave her as a peace offering.

Which was denied. So. Can Tumblr be that place tonight, please? I'm high, hormonal, and am also trying to figure out why I feel guilty for something that happened tonight, and if maybe I'm being gaslit?

Maybe that's a little too honest. But maybe I'm a little too high to care.

But... Conversation seems to have resumed, and energy seems repaired??? I'm. So confused? Was he actually mad? Is this RSD? But then he seemed so vicious earlier in his silence. He seemed so vicious in his determined nonchalance, and I am overanalyzing everything for ducks sake this sentence doesn't have punctuation. Welp. Have a stream of consciousness. Sorry.

#long post #hush Elizabeth #jesus christ my brain is swiss cheese im off my meds because they were killing me actually and oh my god i #NEED #my #fucking #MEDS

[ghost-town-story]

Swiss cheese brain has struck again

For a hot minute I couldn’t remember Calipsa’s name :P

#writing #shitposting #the astral chronicles #in my defense #her name has changed 2 or 3 times #but yeah brain is turning into swiss cheese thank fuck i wrote down the andrade kids' names in my notes doc lol

[florencemtrash]

Hummingbird: Chapter Three

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Warnings: Terrible science jargon

It was almost silly how quickly the world returned to normal.

Alchemax was splashed on every local newspaper, website, social media account, and TV channel for a solid week before complaints shifted to the neverending construction on the streets of New York. The subway somehow got tighter, packed bodies grumbling about the thirty minutes added to their commute after ten subway cars had fallen through a spot and landed in the Hudson river. 

But the events never faded away from your consciousness. The only way you could fall asleep was by leaving all the lights on. It racked up your electric bill like hell, but you couldn’t stand seeing the shadows creep along the wall as nighttime descended on the city - it reminded you too much of the Spot’s blank face and how he managed to stare into your soul without eyes.

Then there was the growing problem of your forgetfulness. You’d never been the best at keeping track of belongings - Mamá always blamed it on your creative brain - but now everything was being misplaced. The alarm clock would disappear from the nightstand and appear in the kitchen, your sock collection was dwindling every day and never making it into the dirty hamper, for Christ’s sake you still hadn’t found your favorite yellow sneakers and it was irritating you to hell and back. 

I’m losing my goddamn mind. You often found yourself thinking.

You threw yourself into work, staying in the classroom late to grade and lesson plan until the night crew got used to vacuuming around your feet. You took on extra projects at the Academy, signing up to run after-school detention and volunteering for props and set design for this year’s spring musical “The Addams Family.”

Anything to stay out of your apartment. Anything to keep you from being alone.

Three empty coffee cups mocked your bleary eyes as you sat hunched over the sewing machine after hours. Cheap black lace trailed off the table, slowly shortening as you incorporated the material into Morticia’s dress.

“Fuck!” You hissed in pain and stuck your thumb in your mouth, sucking away the blood from your fourth needle prick of the night. At this rate you’d have more holes punched into you than swiss cheese.

It was time to give up for tonight.

Before you could forget you slipped the stolen Brooklyn Visions Academy uniform from your bag and hid it in the bottom-most cubby in the storage room. The sleeping bag and pillow from your apartment were also stuffed there, ready for Miles to use whenever he needed an extra break from being a superhero. You suspected Gwen had also been sneaking by to visit Miles now that she had more freedom to explore the multiverse - hence the spare uniform.

“How’s he doing?” You’d asked Miles earlier that day. Miguel’s unspoken name had lingered on the tip of your tongue, forcing the color to rise into your cheeks. Luckily Miles knew exactly who you were talking about.

A knowing grin grew on his face, “Not too bad. He seems more on edge than usual, but I hear he’s working on his temper.” 

“He’s not body slamming any more teenagers?” 

“Not that I know of.”

“Good.” You paused, “If he gives you any more trouble, send him my way. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.” 

Miles saluted you, “You got it.”

You meant it as a joke… but you also wanted a reason to see him again.

You were just about to switch the light off in your classroom when a flash of yellow caught your eye. Tucked behind a stack of newsprint, the vine charcoal rubbing away on your fingers as you carefully lifted the papers, was your prized pair of yellow converse.

It was too late to think about how they’d ended up so far from home, so you tossed them in your bag, threw out the coffee cups, and saved your muddled mind the trouble of figuring it out tonight.

The midnight subway car was filled with the usual Friday-night suspects - overworked nurses, loners just killing time, drunk party goers covered in more glitter than a kindergartener’s Valentine’s day card, and you.

You didn’t miss Richard, not really. What you really missed was coming home to someone and the feeling of another body weighing down the right side of the bed. More recently you’d been imagining what it would be like to come home to Miguel.

You kicked off your shoes at the bottom of the landing, shuffling up the steps and pulling off your clothes as you went, modesty be damned. By the time you face planted on your bed, hair still damp from the shower, it was nearing 2am and Miguel still hadn’t left your mind. He’d planted himself in your thoughts like a spider too high up on a wall for you to squash and too large for you to ignore.

Mercifully you didn’t have to endure the pains of a schoolgirl crush for very long. Sleep dragged you under and you welcomed it as your mind finally went quiet.

You awoke with a start, suffocating under the heavy blankets that you’d buried yourself in last night. You’d been dreaming again about the collider. You’d been dreaming about Miguel - this time in a feverish haze that left your mind in a puddle on the floor. 

How was it possible that a stranger could occupy so much space in your mind? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d held you like you were everything and then left without saying goodbye.

But you weren’t complete strangers…

“Aren’t you his wife?” 

Miles had asked the question so innocently and Miguel hadn’t said anything against it, so it must be true. Somewhere, in some other universe, you’d been married to one another. 

Are you thinking about me too? You wondered, opening your eyes in hopes of chasing the memory of him away.

…Maybe you were still dreaming, because the last time you checked you hadn’t fallen asleep under a tree in Central Park. And even if you had, you highly doubted you could have lugged your mattress and bed frame with you all the way from Brooklyn.

Oh por el amor de Dios.

The glorious thing about New York City is that everyone knew how to mind their own business. So when people saw a high school art teacher in Star Wars pjs leap for joy upon finding a $5 bill on the ground, they didn’t question it.

You were so ecstatic about saving yourself the two-and-a-half hour walk back to Brooklyn that you didn’t remember a highly important piece of information until after you hopped off the subway - you didn’t have your keys or your phone.

Joder. 

Your forehead knocked against the front door of your apartment building with an audible clunk.

“Por el amor de la mierda, ¿por qué mi vida es así?” You muttered under your breath. 

“Y/n?” Your landlord, Mrs. Fleming, pushed her tortoise-shell glasses higher up on her face, the thick lenses magnifying her eyes to bug-like proportions. “Oh it is you, my dear.” 

You groaned, color rushing into your cheeks as you turned around sheepishly. “Good morning, Mrs. Fleming.” 

The elderly woman gave you a once-over look, crocheting needles clicking together as she rummaged around in her bag for her keys, “The old walk of shame, I see.” 

“What?! Wait, no-this isn’t-I’m not-”

She patted you on the back before unlocking the door and holding it open for you, “I only use the turn of phrase because that’s what you young folks call it. Ain’t nothing shameful in it. It’s good of you to get out there. I never did like Richard much.”

You were at a loss for words.

Mrs. Fleming, sprightly as she was for her age, followed you up to your apartment with her extra set of keys jingling merrily in her hands.

“Now, you have a good rest of your weekend, dear.” She said once you’d been graciously let into your apartment, “And don’t forget your keys next time!” 

“Thanks Mrs. Fleming.” You said. Her amused chuckle echoed through the air as she shuffled off to her own apartment.

You sprawled out on the ground where your bed should have been, trying to even out your breathing as the reality of the morning’s events crashed down around you like a house of cards. 

This can’t be happening. ¿Qué diablos me pasa?

You rolled onto your stomach, repeatedly banging your face into a spare pillow to muffle the sound of your aggravated screams. 

The pillow accepted your frustration with little complaint until something in you just snapped. 

All at once the pillow disappeared from beneath you and then blinked into existence by the closet allowing your face to crash into the floor unprotected.

You grabbed at your burning nose, eyes swimming with tears of pain as you registered what had happened. 

“No… oh no.” 

>>>

The rain beat down irregularly, fluctuating back and forth from being barely a drizzle to a torrential downpour. 

You gripped an empty to-go cup in your hand, the tea you’d hoped would calm your nerves long gone. 

It took you three hours to make it here. First you kept teleporting your keys away every time you touched them, futilely chasing them around the apartment. Then you’d nearly gotten hit by a taxi and teleported yourself to the bathroom of a tea shop on the Upper West Side. Miraculously your powers had quieted after that, allowing you to get on the subway and here without incident.

A familiar figure made its way down the block, hood up to protect from the rain.

“Miles!” You leapt up from your seat, racing across the street to the annoyed honking of two taxis. 

“Miss Y/l/n? How’re you doing?” Miles narrowed his eyes in worry, seeing the way your fingers nervously pulled at a loose string from your sweater, “What happened to your face?” The flesh around your nose was red and tender, slowly transforming into a purple bruise.

“I’m sorry for bothering you like this, but I didn’t know where else to go.” You looked around carefully before lifting the cup in the palm of your hand.

You furrowed your brow in concentration, willing that same power within you to snap into place again.

“What’s supposed to-” 

“Just-just give me a minute.”

A minute passed, and nothing. Your heartbeat quickened as you grew more and more flustered.

“Miss Y/l/n are you sure you’re ok?” Skepticism and genuine concern laced his voice.

“I’m fine!” 

Snap!

The cup blinked out of existence like an old-school television that had been turned off. Miles saw it reappear over the park across the street and land on a dog walker’s head. The man in question looked up at the sky bewildered, like he expected to find God there.

Miles’s wide eyes met yours.

“Oh shit.” 

He pulled you into the empty alleyway behind his building, using his spider webs to straighten the trash cans that rolled around on the ground and clear out a space large enough for the two of you to comfortably stand side by side. 

He hung close to the street, Gwen’s face shimmering to life above his wrist as he spoke with his back turned to you.

“Hey, Gwen. I’ve got a situation.” He whispered into the watch.

You caught snippets of their conversation, shrinking in your coat as you tried to suppress the anxiety growing in your chest. If there was anything you’d learned about your powers it was that they tended to flare up with your emotions.

“Do you think we can trust him with this? I don’t want anything to happen to her… Yeah, yeah. No, I understand. I’ll bring her in. See you later.” 

Miles turned back to you, a strained smile on his face, “Sorry about that.”

“Miles, what’s going on?” “I got to bring you into Spidey HQ. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but Miguel might.” 

He unzipped his raincoat and hoodie, exposing the black and red spider-suit beneath and tugging on his mask. 

Your heart gave a flip at the mention of your husband’s name (could you even call him that?). Would he be happy to see you again? Would things be awkward between the two of you?

A familiar watch flashed on his wrist as he began pressing buttons on the orange holographic screen. You’d seen it happen before, a portal of wild glitching colors pulsing to life in front of you, but that didn’t make it any less impressive. Miles stepped into it, dragging you along with him like he was just passing through any regular doorway.

He swept his arm outward, smiling at the expression on your face.

“Welcome to Spidey HQ, Miss Y/l/n.”

Your jaw dropped as you passed through the portal - an actual portal - to Miguel’s dimension. 

Hundreds, no thousands, of Spider-People roamed the open air halls, some on two legs, some on four, some on wheels, and some just preferred to swing through the air on webs, catching and releasing the nimble strings with practiced grace from the walkways that crossed overhead like… well like a spider’s web. 

Miguel certainly hadn’t wasted the spider concept when it came to their headquarters.

“I didn’t know there was a universe composed entirely of Spider-Men…Spider-People?… Spider…” A cat hissed at your feet when you nearly stepped on its tail as you blindly followed Miles through the crowd, “Spider-Things?” 

“Sorry Spider-Cat!” Miles said as the feline grumbled, tail high in the air as it calmly leapt onto the wall and continued on its way as though gravity were only an inconvenience. 

“Actually, every world has only one Spider-Person, but the Alchemax explosion last year ended up opening holes into other universes. Miguel created this place as a hub for Spider-People while everyone tries to fix the anomalies.”

“Anomalies?”

“Yeah, beings that have accidentally gotten stuck in another world.”

“Oh… yeah that makes total sense..” Your words trailed off as a roaring laugh caught your attention, “Is that… is that a dinosaur?” 

You pointed at the group crowded around a cafeteria table howling with laughter. Burgers bounced on trays as the T-Rex doubled over to slap the table for dramatic effect.

“AY YO, REXA!” Miles shouted over your head, throwing his arms up wildly. 

Rexa exposed razor sharp teeth in a grin and waved one short arm towards you. You returned a meek wave in return. 

“That’s Rexa. She’s super funny. Just uh…” he covered his mouth before whispering in your ear, “Maybe don’t mention anything about her arms. She gets a little sensitive.”

“Oh…yeah, of course. No problem.” 

Miles continued to lead you through the building, periodically taking breaks for you to catch up as you kept your eyes trained on everything except the path he’d carved in front of you. At one point you simply disappeared from view, reappearing four stories up in a psychiatrist’s office.

A tweed-suited Spider-Man jumped in his seat, dropping the box of tissues he’d been preparing to throw to his client. 

“Oh! I… I’m so sorry.” You said, flustered at the sight of a sandy haired Peter Parker variant sobbing his eyes out into a spider plushie. You inched along the wall towards the door, “I’m just-I’m just going to make my way out.”

You closed the door as quietly as possible, turning around and coming face to face with Miles again. You jumped and snapped, this time landing on Rexa’s table, foot squishing her burger into roadkill.

You groaned and tilted your head up, watching Miles sail out the office window and swing his way down. 

This was going to take a while.

There was no shortage of Spiderpeople to steal your attention, but finally after a few (uninterrupted) turns down pristine white hallways and an elevator ride into the belly of Spidey HQ, it was just you and Miles again.

From his lair, Miguel traced your figure with his eyes. When you caught sight of the camera in the elevator, its red pupil narrowing in on you, you smiled sheepishly and waved. The small action made his stomach flip like a schoolboy who’d been given his first kiss. 

He needed to pull himself together before he saw you face to face again.

“I’m just saying, I think this is a good thing, Miguel.” Peter B. said, swinging up to the platform and wrapping an arm around Miguel’s broad shoulders. Mayday crawled out and onto the control board, pressing buttons haphazardly and closing half the screens. She clapped her hands in wonder and Miguel grumbled half-heartedly. 

Once she started walking, all bets were off. She’d be an absolute menace to Spider Society. Already she liked to treat Miguel like her personal playscape, crawling onto his shoulders and tugging at his brown curls. 

Her antics almost made him smile… almost.

“If she’s here then that can only mean something’s wrong.” Miguel said, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and ignoring Mayday as she slumped over his back, slowly sliding down his chest and into his waiting arms with a dramatic sigh. 

You looked tired and nervous, fingers tugging at the strings of your raincoat. A purple bruise spread out from your nose, moving with the curve of your cheekbones. Had someone hurt you? 

Miguel’s blood began to boil.

“Or,” Peter bumped his hips against Miguel’s, “it could mean she wants to see you again.” 

“Stop that.” Miguel growled.

“Stop what?”

Stop giving me hope.

Miguel was about to bite back at Peter and wipe the mischievous grin on his face when the doors slid open. Miles’s voice rang through the empty space. 

“These are all those anomalies I was telling you about. Doc Oc, Rhino, Sandman, Mysterio. I don’t even want to know who that is.” 

“Why is it so dark in here?”

“Miguel likes to brood. I think he’s part vampire.” 

Miguel tossed Mayday into her father’s arms, swiftly turning around and busying himself at the control panel to distract from the pounding of his heart. A dozen screens flashed to life above the control board and Miguel concentrated on none of them.

Peter grinned like a madman. This was going great. 

“Miss Y/n!” He shouted out, throwing his hands in the air before hopping off the platform. Mayday squealed in delight and copied his actions. Miguel only cursed under his breath and rubbed his temples. Leave it to Peter to be the cause of 90% of his headaches.

“Looking good, teach!” 

“Ummm… thanks?” You responded as Mayday grabbed at you with chubby fingers. You didn’t have much choice but to hold her as Peter thrust her into your arms. Fear jolted through you like a lightning strike and you quickly handed her off to Miles, the poor girl frowning and continuing to make grabbing motions at you. The last thing you wanted was to make Mayday disappear from your arms.

Peter tipped his head to the side but for once made no comment. He continued to chat you up, pulling small smiles from your lips and ignoring the way you kept glancing at Miguel as his platform slowly lowered to the ground. 

He had his hands on his hips, bright red and blue Spider-suit cutting a striking silhouette against the dark background. 

If he’d noticed you walking into the room, he didn’t show it and you tried your best not to deflate at that realization. 

“Don’t worry. He just likes to make an entrance,” Miles whispered in your ear. And some entrance that was. He stepped off the platform, back tight and straight as he moved forward with measured, even footsteps. 

Miles took one step forward, angling his body in front of you with a weariness in his eyes. 

Miguel stopped, face betraying nothing as he looked you up and down once.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” The words would have sounded romantic coming from someone else’s lips, but from him they just sounded dry and clinical.

“Same here.” You said. The words came out breathlessly.

“What’s happened?”

His hand hovered in the air between you two before he swiftly dropped it to his side. He wanted to reach out and touch your face. He wanted to tilt your chin upwards so he could take a good look at the damage done to your nose and make sure you were ok. Perhaps if you’d been alone he would have allowed himself to do it, but as it was, they had company. 

“We need your help, Miguel.” Miles cut through the tension, “Something’s up with Miss Y/l/n. She’s got powers now - teleportation similar to the Spot’s.” 

His heart stuttered in his chest.

“Is that true?” he said, desperately looking to you for answers. The Spot’s powers had made him unstable in more ways than one and Miguel shivered to think about anything happening to you.

You nodded, “Things keep disappearing when I touch them. Sometimes I accidentally teleport to places when I’m frustrated. I didn’t realize what was going on until I woke up in Central Park last night.”

Miguel turned around, muttering under his breath as his mind raced a thousand steps ahead of him. 

Of all the people this could have happened to, it had to be you. He thought he’d done the right thing by leaving you alone, forcing himself not to portal to your dimension every night. His multiversal travels had taught him a thing or two about the ways things operated. Some figures, like Peter Parker’s Spider-Man were well represented across worlds. Some figures, like himself, were harder to come by. 

As for you? He only knew of three worlds where you existed - in one world, his actions had led to your death and the death of your daughter. In the second, Spot had murdered you in his quest to figure out Spider-Man’s identity. 

And in this one… 

Well he thought he’d been keeping you safe. 

Teleportation was a dangerous ability - unpredictable and difficult to control. Left unchecked you could find yourself in front of a car speeding down the highway or at the top of Mount Everest or in a different dimension altogether, constantly glitching as your molecules broke apa-

“Wait,” Miguel stiffened, back tightening as he swiveled around on his heels, “Where’s your watch?”

“My watch?” you glanced at your naked wrist, “I mean I usually just check my phone for the t-”

“No, your day pass watch. The thing that stabilizes you in this universe.” 

Miles’s eyes blew open. “Mierda. Sabía que había olvidado algo.”

“How long have you two been here?”

“Maybe two hours.” You guessed.

“And nothing’s happened?”

“Is something supposed to happen?” 

Even Peter B. looked concerned. Panic rose in your chest and you threatened to snap. Miguel reached out and grasped your wrist, palm sliding down until you felt the weight and warmth of his hand wrapped in yours. He led you to the med bay, Peter and Miles following closely behind.

The paper atop the padded examination table crinkled as you took a seat, watching Miguel’s broad shoulders flex and stretch as he dug an extra watch out from the back of a cabinet.

“Lyla, run a scan of Y/n.”

The woman flickered to life in front of him. “What’s the magic word?” She fluttered her eyelashes.

“Lyla.” He was in no mood for games today

“Ok, ok. Don’t be testy.” Lyla appeared in front of you, an orange scanner materializing in her hands that swept across your body with a cool touch. “Scan complete.” 

“Here you go,” Miguel felt some relief pour back into his body as he fastened the watch around your wrist, hand lingering against your pulse like he wanted further confirmation that you were alive and well.

“Hey, why does she get one of the fancy ones?” Miles protested. The watch, identical to the ones worn by Miguel, Peter, and Miles flashed its face at you. It was far too elaborate and expensive to be just a day pass.

Miguel ignored him, walking over to one of the monitors and skimming through the output data.

“It took six months for Miguel to give me one of those bad boys,” The paper crinkled again as Peter hopped onto the table beside you, whispering, “Looks like someone’s got a favorite,” and earning a glare from Miguel. 

Peter winked suggestively.

Miguel scowled.

Your cheeks turned a rosy red, your coat disappearing from around your shoulders and landing in a rumple at Miguel’s feet like the world’s worst suggestive gesture. Peter howled with laughter.

“No puedo creerlo.” Miguel whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Lyla, am I looking at this right?”

“You sure are. Y/n’s DNA is perfectly stable. Not a trace of multiversal quantum poisoning to be found. And! Her radiation signature matches that of more than a thousand different universes. Bet you’ve never seen that before.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Hmmmm, let me think.” Lyla spun around in a digital office chair, waiting for her moment to break the dramatic pause. Miguel groaned - he would need to improve her code and tone down the dramatism. “Looks like packets of quantum energy from across the multiverse were released during the Alchemax hypercompact fusion explosion and merged with the only unaltered sentient lifeform in the vicinity.” 

“Dios mio.”

At the end of her explanation she bowed gracefully, arm and fur-lined coat sweeping off to the side.

“Did you get any of that?” Peter asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Peter, I took forestry as my science gen ed in art school and barely passed so… no.”

“Uhhh, can you repeat it for the rest of the class?” Miles piped up. 

Lyla leaned forward, one hand on her hip and the other tipped her heart-shaped sunglasses onto her head. 

“Y/n absorbed energy from a ton of different universes so as far as the multiverse is concerned, she doesn’t register as an anomaly. No glitching. No dying outside of her universe without a watch. No predicted multiversal collapse.” Lyla smiled. “Predicted.”

You looked less than pleased. The last month had been filled to the brim with life-altering events from finding out Miles was a superhero, to getting kidnapped and nearly dying, to finding out your variant’s husband was an all-too-attractive, brooding Spider-Man. It was getting to be too much - you were a teacher for crying out loud! Maybe you’d have handled it better if you were a crime-fighting detective, or a fancy scientist, or a millionaire with access to the latest tech and weapons. Instead you were just… you.

“Can you fix it?” 

Miguel flinched at the look on your face. You were looking to him for help and for answers, but he couldn’t provide them in any satisfactory way. He’d never encountered anyone with your abilities. 

The confusion and fear that came with discovering your powers - that was a journey all Spider-People went through, and they usually went through it alone.

Miguel sighed, “There’s nothing to fix, Y/n.” He said the words with a softness no one had heard from him in years, perhaps ever, “This is who you are now.” 

“So I’m just going to be stuck like this forever?”

“Having powers isn’t so bad.” Peter chimed in with a small smile. “From time to time, it can actually be pretty awesome.”

You allowed a small, empty smile to grow on your lips. It was a smile Miguel was well acquainted with - the kind of smile that said I’m not fine, but I want you to believe that I am.

“I have some tests we could run.” Miguel offered up, “I can’t reverse what’s happened but maybe I can come up with something to help you control your powers, at least while you’re learning how to use them.” 

You nodded, the smile turning into something real, “I would like that. Thank you.” 

Peter was practically vibrating with excitement when he caught the look that passed between the two of you and the hint of hope on Miguel’s usually stony face. 

He clapped his hands down on Miles’s shoulders, “Well would you look at the time? I need to put Mayday down for her nap and grab some food. You’ll learn this soon enough, but being a superhero does burn the calories.” 

He hopped off the table, waltzing all the way to the door before he noticed that Miles was missing from his side. “Miles! Come join me.” 

“Actually, I was going to wait with-”

“Miles.” Peter coughed into his fist, bug eyes burning into Miles until he got the hint.

“Oh? Oh! Yeah, sorry Miss Y/l/n, I forgot I told Gwen I’d meet up with her.” 

You waved him off, “I’ll be fine, Miles. Thanks for everything.” 

“I’ll show her how to use the watch and send her home when we’re finished.” Miguel said, pulling on a lab coat that had been draped over his office chair. He rarely had time to work in the lab, more focused on his primary duty of maintaining the stability of the multiverse, but the familiar glide of the fabric over his skin did help to relax him. It reminded him of the old days when Spider-Man didn’t exist and the multiverse was just a fun theory tossed around at company lunches. 

A thin silence stretched between you two after Miles and Peter left, and you contented yourself with watching Miguel as he busily typed away at his monitor, labeled vials, and prepared the syringes. Every movement was practiced and controlled like he’d done this a million times before.

Miguel was screaming on the inside. You were close enough for his heightened senses to pick up on the honey lemon shampoo you used tinged with the woodsy scent of linseed oil. He was powerless under your gaze like an insect trapped under a microscope.

“I just need to collect some blood samples.” Miguel said, gently holding out his hand. You offered your arm up without complaint, distracting yourself from the pinch of the needle by reading the faded name tag printed on his lab coat.

You whistled low to break the tension, “Dr. O’Hara. That’s impressive. What kind of doctor are you?”

“I was a geneticist. Not the medical kind though. I worked in research at Alchemax.” 

“Is that how you got your spidey powers?”

He rolled his eyes, “They’re not spidey powers, they’re acrachno-humanoid genetic augmentations.” 

“Qué estúpido. Just call them spidey powers. You scientists just like to give things complicated names to feel superior.” The corner of Miguel’s lips quirked up every so slightly. The thrill of seeing any emotion on Miguel’s face lightened the feeling in your chest.

“Was it hard becoming Spider-Man?” You asked.

Miguel shrugged, wiping away the small bead of blood on your arm. “I had it easier than most. I was already looking into the possibility of combining human and arachnid DNA and I had the resources to study my powers.” Miguel paused. It had been a long time - too long - since he’d had a conversation like this with anyone. He could cast his mind back to talks with you his wife, but those had always been domestic in nature.

“The hardest part was not having anyone to talk to.” He said, finishing his thought.

“Sounds lonely.” You remarked, accepting the q-tip from him and swabbing the inside of your cheek. He collected the sample in a vial of greenish liquid and gave it a thorough shake, “Do you have people now that you talk to?”

“No.” His answer was short and to the point. 

You’d touched a sore spot and you decided to prod it. “Would you like someone to talk to?” 

Again, the corner of his lips twitched, “Are you offering?”

You copied his shrug from earlier, “Maybe.” 

He took a few more cheek swabs and then a strand of hair. His hand lingered by your cheek, frowning as he took in the bruise on your face. 

Now that you two were alone he dared to gently tilt your head to the side.

“You never told me what happened.” 

Your hands flew up to your face in embarrassment and Miguel saw the tips of your ears grow red. He liked it.

“I may or may not have teleported my pillow away right before smashing my face into the floor.” 

The breath left his lungs in a quiet chuckle. That sounded like something you’d do.

“But no one’s bothering you?”

“What? Oh no. No, it’s nothing like that.” 

He nodded, the tightness in his chest unraveling with that knowledge. He knew you weren’t his wife and he knew that you didn’t know him well enough yet, but that didn’t stop him from caring. The truth was he liked you from the moment you slapped his shoulder and cursed at him, and it wasn’t just because you looked like someone from his past.

“This will take some time to work through.” He tilted his head towards where the tabletop machines whirred and spun, “But if I’m right, I may be able to adjust your watch to stabilize you in a specific place, not just a specific universe. It’s not a permanent fix but you won’t be waking up in Central Park again anytime soon.” 

“That would be preferable.” 

You moved to take off the watch and hand it over to Miguel but he stopped you.

“Keep this one. In case anything happens you can contact me or the other Spider-People,” He said, walking her through the steps of using the watch, “Headquarters is always open so if anything happens, come here.” 

You nodded. With an encouraging look from Miguel you punched “Earth-1610” into the locator and then your home address. 

Just like last time the portal bloomed open beside you, scattering a few loose papers on the ground. Through the portal you caught a glimpse of your living room, citylights flashing outside your window.

“Come back next week. Until we have a better understanding of your powers it would be good for us to monitor you and check that you’re stable.” 

And it would be good for you to see her again. 

Miguel squashed the thought as soon as it popped into his brain in Peter’s voice. He really needed to stop spending so much time with him. 

You stepped through the portal and were embraced by the familiar smell of your apartment. It made you feel better about what was to come. You turned to smile at Miguel, his tired eyes lighting up ever so slightly.

“I’ll see you next week then.”

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_________ Author's note: Here's the next chapter! Let me know what you guys think of the writing and where the story is going. I'm hoping to dive more deeply into Y/n x Miguel's relationship in the coming chapters so get ready for angst and fluff!

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