Being Madly In Love With Someone Platonically Is So Ridiculous. Hey Man I Think About You All The Time.

we are all just so normal about him

ha?

every single person who reblogs this

every

single

person

will get “doot doot” in their ask box

ketzal_coatl

Project: Pandora

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Synthezoid!Reader

Synopsis: You are experiencing things for the first time and you can't wait to explore what the multiverse has to offer, but for now, you'll start with a messy college dorm room.

Warning: Children having made to witness premarital hand holding and flirting of excruciatingly emotionally constipated adults.

Word Count: 2174

Events take place after Project: Galatea and prior to Project: Eros

“This is…”  Your face twists, trying to find the right word.  “Odd.” 

You lift your arm, the blanket that Miguel draped on you falls from your shoulder and you watch as goosebumps litter your skin.

Avenger Peter, MJ, and Ned simultaneously inhale sharply through their nose.  The ceiling, the cereal box, and fork suddenly looked too interesting.

Miguel clears his throat and reaches to wrap you tightly with the blanket again.

“That’s the result of adrenaline reflex.”  Miguel grumbles, turning his eyes to the carpeted floor, away from you and the lamp that illuminated the living room and dining area.  “And can you be more careful?  Gravity applies to your clothes now.”

“I know, Miguel.”  You glare at him as you sink on the couch beside him.  You don’t need him to discuss physiology and physics with you.  “I just need time to get used to it all.”

He keeps his mouth shut, his eyes softening as he memorizes every curve of your frowning brows.

“So uhm, you feel fine?”  MJ cuts the tension.  “No trouble breathing?  No pain?”

You laugh softly.  “What does pain feel anyway?”

Obviously, you know it in theory and experienced it quite a lot emotionally but you never really felt physical pain.

A sharp pinch on your thigh makes you yelp and jump like a startled cat.

The culprit beside you has his eyes deadpanned but the slight curve on his lips told you he enjoyed it way too much.

“Asshole!”  You gave Miguel a stink eye, rubbing your poor thigh.

“That’s pain.”  Miguel grins at you. 

You throw a playful punch on his shoulder but a strange pop has your eyes doubling in size.

“Did I just break a finger?”  You almost scream but Miguel keeps the shit eating grin and just grabs your hand, he clicks his tongue multiple times and your heart hammers on your chest.  They spent months perfecting your body, the least you could do is take care of it.  You watch Miguel lift your hand to his face and brushes your knuckles on his lips.

“Looks like a serious fracture, we might need to amputate it.”  You hated how he could make you feel stuff by just altering the timbre of his voice despite uttering such baseless barbaric statement.  “You just cracked a knuckle, firefly, stop worrying.  If you feel any discomfort anywhere though, you tell me.”

MJ picks at the loose thread on her sweater as her eyes darted between you and Miguel.  “They definitely need to go get a room.”  She whispers under her breath.

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

Whispered back the two teens beside her.

A loud grumble suddenly travels to their ears.  They turn and see you looking at your stomach, your eyes wide, looking absolutely embarrassed.  “Uhm, I’m hungry?”  Rather than say it, you sound like you are asking for confirmation, which is fair.

Peter immediately snatches his phone to order food.

Ned smiles at you understandingly, you must have been hungry the entire time but did not recognize the feeling.  “How about water?  Does your mouth feel dry?”  Checking your electrolyte level slipped their mind due to multiple reasons, they were marveling at you after taking your vital signs and range of motion.

Miguel reaches and pulls you to him.  He brushes his thumb on your lip, his eyes following his movements carefully.  “Yeah, she could use a glass of water.”  He slips his hand under the blanket to pull your arm and you are about to protest when he pinches your skin again but you choose to stay quiet as he did it gently.

“Is it tented?”  Ned asks while rolling a stress ball atop the table.

Miguel meets your eyes and returns your arm inside the blanket.  Your body goes hot when he flashes you his sharp canine as he grins.  “Nah, perfectly supple and elastic.”  The grin gets wider.  “We might need to check her temperature again though.  She’s running a bit warm.”

You are not stupid.  Theoretically, you know how the normal body responds to external stimuli.  Miguel holds back another smart comment when you harshly pull your arm from him, too flushed to even bite a retort back.

Ned and MJ watched the exchange with narrowed judging eyes.  Watching old people flirt made them a bit queasy.

The next minutes were spent with them telling you about the project and how Dr. Strange aligned your neurons.  You wanted to thank the man but they tell you that he has been busy for a week now, trying to ward off an intergalactic entity.  Miguel just had to roll his eyes at the mention of the Doctor’s name.  Him helping Peter almost break the multiverse was not appreciated by Miguel.

You walk around the apartment as you listen to them talk, mainly to Miguel now, as you let your hands wander on every object you can find, taking in every texture that you come across.

The carpet on your feet was a nice feeling and you are glad you refused the slippers that Ned kindly offered for you to wear.

You see a pile of old books on a corner and you bend down to swipe at the thin layer of dust sitting atop it.  You smile so brightly, seeing the mark your finger left.  Then you see the coat of dust on your finger tip, the dirt clinging to your skin didn’t feel pleasant at all.

Just in front of your 3D printer, you refuse to call it casket, lies the messy work table of Peter Parker.  You wander to it and you read the tiny sticky notes that are stuck on the wall in front of the desk.  Some are newly placed, some a bit older, their edges starting to peel off.

You tilt your head to the side as you realize that they’re a bunch of ideas for his suit upgrades. 

“What a clever kid.”  You whisper.  You smile when you see a tiny error on a formula, creating a cascade of errors on the other notes.

You grab a sticky note and you uncap a ballpen, it took you a while to figure out how to hold it and your handwriting was messy but you managed to correct his error.

The bubble wrap in the corner became the next center of your attention.

Miguel was in the middle of telling the teens about your code when you wander on the couch again.  He glances at you for a while and goes back to ignoring you when you place a hand on his enormous arm and rub.  He really bulked up, didn’t he?

“Unstable molecules feel weird.”  You wiggle your fingers right in front of Miguel’s face, cutting his geek talk.  “Feels like this.”

He raises a brow.  “Tingly?”  He retracts the fabric from his fingertips and lets it rest on his suit.  “Huh, guess so.  But it’s quite comfortable inside.”

You nod and make a beeline towards the dining table where the teens are.

“Can I?”  You ask while pointing to MJ’s sleeve.

“Sure.”  She shrugs and offers you her arm as she turns to listen to Miguel trying to explain advanced computer science to them.

You pinch the fabric and smile at the softness of it.

“What’s this material called?  I want to wear it everyday, it feels so cozy.”

“It’s uh, cashmere.  Pe-Peter got it for me last Christmas.”  She briefly points at Peter before using the same hand to cover a cough.

You glance at Peter, who was also listening to Miguel, though his ears looked a bit redder, you can tell despite the dimness of the room.

Ned soon notices you looking at the stress ball resting a couple inches away from his fingers.

“You wanna hold it?”  He offers you the toy.

“That’s a stress ball, right?”  You take it and squeeze hard.  “What’s so relaxing about this?”  You raise a brow as the toy only strained your hand.

“You’re just not stressed enough to need it yet.”  Miguel sighs.  He knows that your muscles would need endurance training but of course he had to taunt you just a bit.

You sassily put a hand on your hip, making a big deal out of everything that Miguel says is almost a habit to you.  “And you probably need a truckload of this judging by how you look.”

The kids near you almost scratched the table cloth by how hard they were trying to keep a straight face.

Thery mustn’t laugh.  Peter can’t lose his place in the Society.  Peter can’t lose his place in the Society!

A knock from the front door keeps Miguel from throwing something just as insulting to you.

“I’ll get it!”  Peter volunteers, too happy with the opportunity to get away.

Miguel grumbles to himself, shaking his head.

You smile a little too sweetly at Miguel before turning to Peter who is carrying a bunch of plastic bags that are all hanging on different fingers instead of being all carried by a finger or two, like how they should be?

“Whatever is in those boxes, I want them.”  You laugh.

Ned gets up to grab a clean spoon for you, seeing as you won’t be able to use the chopstick just yet.

“I don’t know if you’d like this but I figured that you’d need the carbs and manageable food for now.”  Peter says, scratching the back of his head and pushes a steaming hot bowl of congee to you. 

“Thank you, Peter.”  It smells divine!  And you appreciate the soft food, you should give your stomach something easy to digest for the meantime.

Your curiosity is piqued and you open a box before you.  “Oh, look at this, Miggy.”  You turn to Miguel who is already heading to where you are standing.  “Fried rice.”  You thank Ned when he hands you a spoon.  “You used to make this when you were particularly lazy.” 

He hums.  “I don’t cook anymore.”

Peter asks you two to join them at the table and you do.

“They didn’t have empanadas- uh…I heard you liked them!”  Peter starts to sweat under Miguel’s stern gaze.  “But uh, they have fried dumplings.  In-in case you wanna try some.”  He pushes the box to Miguel.

You scoop a spoonful of congee to your mouth, after being reminded by Miguel to blow on your food.  You hated how he made you feel like a toddler just now.  But you forget that you were pissed just a second ago when the rice porridge lands on your waiting tongue and you almost melt at the flavor.  In fact, it looks like you actually are.  They all watch you close your eyes, still chewing, and collapse on the chair dramatically.

“It’s so unfair that you all get to eat these for years, especially Miguel.”  You pat Miguel’s shoulder when he curses at you in Spanish.  “It’s okay, Miggy.  You aged like fine wine, don’t get worked up.”

You take another spoonful, ignoring Miguel’s incomprehensible expression.

The night ends with you listening to Peter trying to explain or defend himself from Miguel’s accusations for the whole multiverse disturbance thing. 

You were biased, of course.

It is pretty normal to take his side.  Peter’s side.

But nevertheless, you and Miguel thanked the three of them, even Dr. Strange.  Through a portal.  Made of magic.  Wasn’t weird at all.

When Miguel told them that he’ll be taking you with him to the HQ, they didn’t really go against it, a knowing smile plastered on their faces when Miguel says that the tech there is better in monitoring your state.

“I will definitely visit.”  You say as you release MJ from your embrace and move to hug Ned who is tearing up a bit.  “I’ll come so often that you’ll be sick of me.” 

Lastly, there’s Peter.  You hug the kid tightly.  “Thank you for taking the time to bring me back to him.”

He hugs you back, just as tight.  “I should be the one thanking you.”  He could only wish that Tony was there to witness everything.

“He’s proud of you, I just know it.” 

You return to Miguel’s side and you smile at them one last time before turning to step into the portal.

“Wait!”  Peter yells.

Miguel raises a brow at him, his large hand encasing yours in a gentle hold.

“Uhm.”  Peter’s eyes darted from you to Miguel and back again.

“Spit it out, kid.”  Miguel snaps.

Peter crosses his arms, awkwardly.

“I know you two are-are excited and y-you miss each other so much.”  He stutters out.  “But it’s probably not a good idea to—” He grimaces, as if saying it is physically hurting him.  “—you know.” 

His hands flew everywhere, making you and Miguel look at each other, silently asking if the other is picking up what the hell the kid’s saying. 

Peter sighs, defeated.  “You shouldn’t…test her body’s limitations in one night-”

“Yeah, we get it.”  Miguel says quickly while he pushes your confused ass to the portal.

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • (Project: Eros)

This is one of my daily activities😭

people who do not belong at pride:

cops

soldiers

corporations 

homophobes & transphobes 

racists

assholes who fetishize lgbt people and think we’re all weird party animals and treat pride as if it’s a zoo 

performative “allies” who treat this as their token “good deed of the day” they can write about later 

I have a massive fear that no one actually likes me, rather everyone is just politely tolerating me hoping I leave them alone

Oscar Isaac- hands talking -hands moving- hands

a "midwife" you say... tch. such a foolish word. a wife could never be mid. all women are epic

Good morning to bitches who cant remember half their life