A sunflower, but goth. Random this and that from the brain of a relentless dreamer. I will never be what you want me to be, nor ever do what you expect of me. Just remember kids, obsession is diverse.
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Voting ended onMar 3, 2024
The zine will be a collection of fanwork by fans of the Superboy/Impulse pairing. It will be non-profit. We will be accepting and publishing a variety of visual and literary works.
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Bart Allen Week will be held from March 18th until March 25th 2024. So you have lots of time to prepare, here are the prompts:
DAY ONE: Impulse '95 Cast or Body Swap
DAY TWO: Young Justice or 30th Century
DAY THREE: Thad or Neurodiversity
DAY FOUR: Mercury or Legacy
DAY FIVE: Preston's Home Movies or Lost in the Multiverse/AU
DAY SIX: Lightning Rod or Experimentation
DAY SEVEN: (Flash) Family or Free Day
Summary: Miguel isn’t all that excited about you joining spider society, so why and how does he enter a spiral of maddening obsession?
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Soft/inexperienced reader. Pining.
This is more an of an introduction to my current series Frustration. You don’t have to read the first 3 parts to enjoy this.
Miguel crossed his arms as he stood on the lowered platform.
He was waiting.
And he hated being kept waiting.
Tense minutes went by until a swirling flash of light tore through the space continuum right in front of him.
Jessica Drew stepped out first, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.
And you.
You seemed so out of it, that Miguel wondered how a spider person could have been this badly affected by a mere dimensional travel.
As you tumbled out of the portal, you immediately lurched forward. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”
Without further warning, you emptied the content of your stomach onto the floor.
Amazing.
Arching an eyebrow, he glared at Jess who was patting your back reassuringly.
“It’s her first time, Miguel,” she frowned lightly, helping you straighten up.
Peter offered you a tissue. “Oh, I remember my first time. My intestines were not the same for a week, and I do-”
Miguel immediately cut him off, not at all interested in hearing about Peter Parker’s bowl movements. “Welcome to Nueva York,” he stepped out of the platform, extending his hand to you. “I’m Miguel O’Hara.”
You cleared your throat and shook his hand. “So… you’re the boss.”
“I’m the boss.”
Miguel saw your eyes scanning him him up and down, widening slightly. “You’re… big.”
Peter snorted and Jessica chuckled.
But he could only roll his eyes. “You’ll eventually get used to your portal jumps.”
You scanned the room with curious eyes. “That portal really needs stabilisation,” you then mumbled, adjusting your suit. “The motion sickness…”
He scoffed. “You’re a spider-woman. I’m sure you can manage motion sickness.”
“Well… it’s not the same as swinging around in your web,” you retorted with a light shrug.
Jessica patted your shoulder. “That’s why we recruited you. Your intel might be able to helps us with some of these… instabilities.”
You immediately smiled brightly. “Oh, sure! I can’t wait to get started. This place looks so cool.”
Miguel groaned inwardly. Amateurs.
He had scanned your file thoroughly and had been against your recruitment initially, but Jess had brought up valid points in your favour, despite the fact that you had only been bitten less than six months ago.
Inexperienced and ambitious.
These two hardly ever worked together, but your vast knowledge in tech compounds had made him give Jess the benefit of the doubt.
“Follow me. I’ll have to draw blood to run some tests and Lyla here will fill you in later on other procedures.”
The hologram popped in obnoxiously by your shoulder. “If he asks nicely, that is.”
Your mouth dropped open in absolute bewilderment. “Woah! AI? That is really, really awesome!”
“Thank you, pumpkin,” she grinned with a wink.
Miguel paced through the long halled that stretched out towards Lab 1, with you following close by, as Peter and Jess flanked you.
From the corner of his eye, he saw you glaring out of the tall windows, completely transfixed by the the countless skyscrapers that sprawled out as far as the eye could see.
“You built this?” your voice echoed in sheer wonder.
“Yes.”
“All of this?”
“Miguel is really gifted with technology,” Peter chimed in proudly.
“Woah…”
That tingled his ego nicely.
As the four of you walked inside the lab, the surrounding spiders at work glanced over, voicing their greetings.
“Take a seat.”
You immediately did as he said with Jessica standing next to you, hand on your shoulder.
Miguel put his gloves on and readied the material for the blood testing.
“Give me your arm.”
“So you’re a tech guy…” you started, and he gripped your forearm, rolled the sleeve of your suit up with fingers probing for a vein. “What else?”
“A geneticist.”
“Nice! So you’re like a two for one type of deal?”
Once he found what he was looking for, he aligned the tube with your skin. “This will sting a bit.”
Before you could reply, you let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion.
“And you work at the lab, too?”
“Do you always ask these many questions?” Miguel said, waiting for the tube to fill in.
You nodded with a warm smile. “I just like to know what I’m getting myself into.”
You had no idea, but Miguel was testing you, trying to gather as much of your personality as he could. He enjoyed piecing people together like puzzles. It stroked his sense of control.
“I thought Jessica had briefed you.”
“I did,” she immediately said.
“Yet you’re the one drawing my blood,” you chirped happily, your eyes fixed on his.
Well, maybe you had an idea.
Miguel felt the corner of his lips turn into a faint smile.
Good.
He needed perceptive people around.
He pulled away from from you slightly and pressed a cotton pad to the small puncture.
Sliding open one of the drawers nearby, he grabbed a watch, never letting go of your arm.
“This is a dimensional travel watch,” he explain, snapping it snugly around your wrist. “Keep it with you at all times.”
He let go of you and you seized the moment to inspect it closer, fascination never leaving your face.
“Let me guess… you also built this,” you said with a chuckle, pressing on the screen a few times.
He reached out his hand to stop you. “This is not a toy. Lyla will inform you on how to properly use it.”
You nodded firmly.
“Welcome to spider society.”
It didn’t take long for Miguel to start walking in on you sleeping in the lab.
For the fourth time.
He was all too familiar with the riveting excitement that came with scientific progress that often led to many sleepless nights.
But he still couldn’t allow this to keep happening.
Halting a few inches away from you, he took a moment to access the situation: you sat hunched over the lab table, head resting on folded arms and a string of drool dangling from the corner of your mouth.
A heavy sigh parted his lips.
He tapped his foot once on the leg of your chair, causing you to jolt upright with a yelp, nearly falling back from the loss of balance as the chair swayed dangerously.
But Miguel was fast enough to prevent that by steadying you with a firm grip on your shoulder. You then leaned forward, panting and clutching at your chest.
“Good morning.”
You turned your head to stare at him, deep bags under your eyes and sleep lines covering your face. “Miguel! Oh — hi! I’m… oh my… that was such a scare!”
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s the fourth time this week.”
Trying to regain some composure, you straightened your clothes and wiped the string of drool trailing down your chin with the back of your hand.
“Right. I was… uh…” you paused abruptly and looked around, as if momentarily disoriented. “Oh. Yeah! I am — was working on running some diagnostics and must have dozed off waiting for the results… and-”
He clicked his tongue and spun your chair around, effectively silencing you, his eyes boring into yours. “This isn’t going to happen again. You need to rest.”
You swallowed. “I was resting…”
Miguel didn’t have neither the patience nor the time for this.
“You need proper rest,” he pressed on with a scowl. “Jessica scouted you for a reason, and if you’re too sleep-deprived to work, you’re of no use to us.”
You broke eye contact with him, lowering your head. “I’m sorry…”
The sincerity in your voice took him slightly aback, and he relaxed his face, wondering if he had perhaps been too harsh.
You were chewing on your lip, staring down at your entwined hands.
He had no idea why, but his heart skipped a beat.
Probably stress.
“Look,” he tried again, softer this time. “I know what it’s like to want more. To do more. I’ve been there,” he then crouched, so he could eye-level with you. “But you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. We have time to figure this out.”
You looked to the side, hesitating at first. “I… was talking to other spiders and some mentioned they feel the side effects of motion sickness if they use the portal more than twice a day,” you went on with newfound confidence, gripping the pad on the table and lighting up the screen. “I’m close to getting the chips to work and ther-”
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stop. Stop.”
You did.
“What part of me saying you need to sleep didn’t you understand?”
“I don’t mind sacrificing a few nights of sleep if it means I can help other spiders,” you said, a flash of defiance crossing your eyes. “Seriously, Miguel. I need to get this done… I need it.”
Miguel’s strictness shattered.
He then saw a reflection of himself staring right at him.
So much of your determination and persistence reminded him of his early days as a scientist. The struggle, the hunger for results, the need to achieve something that could help so many…
“I know you’re looking out for me,” you went on, placing one hand on his shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. “And I’m grateful, but science and progress don’t wait. I know I can be helpful, so let me.”
For the first time in a very long time, Miguel O’Hara was left speechless.
“Please don’t fire me,” you laughed nervously.
He blinked a couple of times and stared down at his watch.
6:14AM
“You can come back in twelve hours.”
Your eyes widened in sheer excitement, lips parting into a wide smile.
He quicky lifted one finger. “If you try to sneak in, I’ll know.”
Your smile faltered, as he saw right through your intentions.
“And I’ll have you sent back to your dimension faster than you can say Nueva York. Got it?”
You lifted one hand in a salute and nodded.
He scowled. “And… stop hanging around Hobie.”
Dropping your hand, you bolted forward from your chair to hug him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
The sudden motion nearly caused him to topple over and you immediately let go of him, as he rose to his full height again.
“Oh! Sorry!” you stepped away, patting his arm apologetically.
He blinked.
Then, grabbing your pad, you began tapping rapidly. “I’m uploading all the data to your watch, so please take a look.”
He blinked again.
You gathered your backpack and threw him a final warm smile. “If you find anything important, please let me know!”
Miguel nodded curtly, but remained rooted in place, as you hurried across the lab and past the sliding door.
His heart skipped a beat for the second time that day.
Then it dawned on him: the last person who had hugged him had been Gabriella.
Miguel should probably call himself a hypocrite.
He was heavily against you or any other spider dozing off in the lab, but he had been indulging in this quite often as of late.
By the time he rose from his slumber, and sat back on his padded chair, he realised something soft had been placed around his shoulders.
He tugged on it and was met with a blanket covered in tiny prints of Peter B. Parker’s face.
This was definitely Mayday’s.
“What…” he drawled out, blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the brightness that poured in from the windows.
The clock on the wall marked nine in the morning.
He stared down at his desk to find a handwritten note next to a plate of… empanadas?
“Hi~
wanted to wake you up, but you were sleeping so soundly and I didn’t want to disturb you. I found Mayday’s blankie on my lab desk — I suspect Hobie is sneaking her around to pull a prank on me hehe xOx
P.S. Jess told me you like empanadas, so I tried making some for you. Hope you like them~ (I’m crossing my fingers)
P.S. 2 You need proper rest :)”
You.
It had been you.
He glared at the plate containing the pastries, and grabbed one.
His heightened senses allowed him to immediately get flooded with an overwhelming delicious smell.
Taking a bite, he fluttered his eyes shut, allowing the overwhelming combination of flavours to take over.
It tasted so, so good.
It tasted like home.
He rose to his feet and walked out, scanning the lab for traces of you.
But he was met with Jessica instead who had just walked in.
“Oh, you look terrible.”
He swallowed was was left in his mouth. “Thanks.”
Her gaze dropped to your hand. “Oh! Did she make those for you?”
“Uh… yes.”
He felt ridiculous for having mumbled it like that.
The two of them paced along the corridors and into Lab 2, where you were sitting, back turned to them, visibly engrossed in your tasks.
“How’s she been doing?”
He took another bite. “Good. She’s persistent and focused. Those are good traits to have in this field.”
“She reminds me of yourself.”
Miguel wasn’t surprised in the slightest, because it was an undeniable fact.
“Hopefully, she won’t make the same mistakes I did.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll make some along the way,” she shrugged casually. “And she’ll learn from them, as you did.”
Miguel kept his gaze fixed on you and felt a strange need arise in him.
To look after you.
He took the last bite and savoured it in silence, as Jessica eyed him curiously.
“She really is a sweet girl,” she ended up saying lovingly. “She asked me what your comfort food was.”
Sweet girl.
He let the name replay in his head, and determined he liked the sound of it. It was fitting.
“Go on. Say it.”
Miguel arched an eyebrow at this. “Say what?”
Jess threw him a smug look. “That I was right for recruiting her. That you were wrong.”
In truth, Miguel hated having to admit to his mistakes, and it wasn’t even related to his ego or inability to take criticism.
As he had come to learn the hard way, his mistakes would usually lead to catastrophic consequences.
But when it came to you, he had no problem admitting he had been in the wrong. You had proved to be quite capable of handling a multitude of tasks.
… and now you were starting to grow on him.
“Yes. You were right, Jessica,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on you. “She really is… something.”
She patted his back a few times. “Are you turning into a softie, Miguel?”
He scowled. “No.”
“Go ahead and thank her, then,” she said with a smile.
Miguel didn’t like being told what to do. He had every intention of letting you know he was grateful for your efforts.
But it had to be in his own way.
He parted ways with Jess and mad his way to you.
“Hey.”
You turned in your chair, bearing that kind smile he had grown so accustomed to. “Hi! You’re awake.”
“Cearly,” he grumbled with a shrug.
“Did you like the empanadas?”
He nodded. “They tasted amazing. Thank you.”
Like home.
“Great!” you beamed, your smile never wavering. “You looked really adorable while sleeping. Sorry for not waking you up.”
Adorable…?
He felt a lump form in his throat. Your energy was contagious, and he considered embracing it.
But he didn’t want to cave in…
He was a stubborn man by nature.
But he also didn’t want you to think he was too cold and distant like many in Nueva York thought.
“I want to show you something,” he said, tapping on his watch.
You waited expectantly and the screen in front of your flickered momentarily before a video started playing.
File: Gabriella.006
He didn’t even bother staring at the screen. He already knew by heart its content, and he didn’t want to revist the pain today.
No.
His eyes were fixed on you, instead.
He knew Lyla had already mentioned the event that led to him deciding to protect the multiverse.
He knew you knew of Gabriella.
Of what he had done.
Your smile dropped as the video went on, even though the sound of giggles and splashing water echoed around you.
“I’m not showing you this for you to feel bad for me.”
You shook your head, parting your eyes from the screen. “That didn’t even cross my mind.”
He paused the video.
“Right.”
Your eyes held kindness and your voice became softer. “I know why you’re showing this to me.”
He highly doubted it, but he waited for you to go on.
“We take care of each other here,” you began, twirling your chair to fully face bim. “And that means being open to showing vulnerabilities.”
He remained silent, digesting your words.
“Am I wrong?”
Partially, but he wouldn’t tell you that. The justification he had settled for in his head didn’t come close to your own.
And his heart skipped a beat.
He grown used to it happening whenever around you, but this time it felt more alarming.
More urgent.
“Miguel?”
You were eyeing him with concern, your hand reaching out to touch his arm.
He snapped out of his thoughts, and took a step back. “Send me the files you were working on yesterday. I need to check the coding.”
You gave him a nod, and he saw understanding soften your expression. He had expected you to press him on for an answer, but he was grateful you hadn’t.
“Oh, and… thank you, again. For… you know…” he drawled out as he ran a hand through his hair.
“You got it, Miguel,” you said, smiling sweetly.
Sweet girl.
His sweet girl.
It took Miguel one week to start dreaming about you.
At first, it would be a conglomerate of nonsensical blobs with your face or voice here and there. But as days went by, some began to take shape.
Your shape.
Nowadays, it would be your face and voice that would keep him company after tiring missions.
He had gotten quite fond of it.
Until things took a turn.
And he would wake up with a throbbing ache in between his legs, begging for relief.
That was when he knew he was letting his admiration for you get the best of him.
As he rose from his bed and walked to the tall window in his bedroom, he saw the sun lighting up the horizon line, bathing Nueva York in rays of orange and yellow.
He had built all of this in the hopes of a better future.
But now he started longing for one that had you in it somehow.
As a fellow spider.
A fellow scientist.
A friend, even.
He squinted as his sensitive eyes became increasingly sore from the intense light, so he moved to his bedside table and grabbed the peace of paper you had left him days ago.
Your handwriting mirrored your personality: graceful and captivating.
Maybe he should have tossed it away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
Walking into his living room, he booted up the screens on the wall.
There was this crescendo inside him that urged him to look for you.
He tapped through various sections of the lan, but he found you near the refrigeration area, tapping on your chin with a pencil, as you glared at the screens in front of you.
He wanted to call you.
To hear your voice first thing in the morning.
To commend you for being up so early already and committing to your duties.
Suddenly, he saw your lips turn into a soft knowing smile, and he knew you must have figured something out.
Of course you had.
Your perception and tenacity were unmatched.
As much as he wanted to talk to you, he decided against it.
In his mind, he was too undeserving of anything more than a friendship with you.
He convinced himself that he was not good enough, and that he was meant to watch you from afar.
You were just like a flame. Too close and it burns. Too far away and it freezes.
He grazed his thumb across the screen, close to you.
His sweet, sweet girl.
It would be better off this way. Not for him, of course. He was already in too deep. But it would be better for you.
You deserved better.
But he still craved you.
Miguel recognised the feeling that was started to seep into his heart and mind. He had almost forgotten how suffocating that felt.
He couldn’t tear his eyes from your face.
He couldn’t tear his heart from your hold.
The level of despair was unmistakable and he knew exactly what this feeling was.
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Supercarrier: fandom flagship. Everybody and their dog ships it. The fandom is glutted with artwork and fic. You cannot escape this ship.
Dreadnought: massively popular. Nearly everybody ships it. You can, with dedication, in theory, reach the end of the AO3 archive for the ship’s tag, but it’ll take a long time.
Cruiser: pretty popular ship. Not everyone ships it, but everyone knows about it. Has a good amount of fic/art, and probably multiple ask blogs.
Frigate: just plain popular. Feels like it could use more fanworks. New people to the fandom might not know about it, but they’ll stumble across it sooner rather than later.
Gunboat: bit of a rarepair. It might have an ask blog or two. A couple big name fans ship it. Probably only takes a few weeks to get through the entire AO3 backlog, and one new fic gets added during that time.
Tugboat: rarepair. Almost never seen except as a side pairing to a more popular ship. You can usually get through everything on AO3 in a matter of days. You’ve forgotten what it is to be picky about what you read.
Rowboat: less than a dozen people ship it. You all know each other. You exist in an endless cycle of the same five people desperately producing art and fic and one person who constantly contributes headcanons.
Canoe: you are one of maybe three people who ship it, and there’s a not-insignificant chance you’ve never encountered those other two hypothetical shippers. You spend your days paddling furiously in hopes of keeping the ship afloat, dreaming of the day you upgrade to a rowboat so you can finally rest.
Pontoon: that random crossover ship with that one black dress character/trope/fandom everyone will ship with everything else. Has the potential to turn into a massive party until someone gets sick and everyone goes home.
Barge: Not quite seaworthy, but buoyant in both the literal and figurative senses. Someone is always merrily drunktweeting about it at 11pm on Saturday night and then wistfully sobertweeting about it 4 hours later from their kitchen floor. The kind of ship that generates more playlists than fic. Artfully covered in trash and dirty laundry.
Raft: There’s two-to-four people who Ship It Hard and a few others who grab onto the side for safety when there’s drama on their usual flagship.
Barrel: There’s orphaned fic of it. There’s unsigned art of it. There’s headcanon asks on anon. Someone must ship it, but no one knows why or who they are. Your friend got a glimpse once before they ducked back down.
Pool Noodle: It’s just you, kicking your feet. You named the ship and wrote it on your noodle with a big sharpie. You tell people about it and are met with confused blinking. Most of the fics in the tag were either written by you or for you. You are caught between wanting to shout about how lovely life is on this floating scrap of whimsy and fearing that your noodle can’t bear much weight. Or worse, that someone will come over and dunk you, take your noodle and fwhap you on the head with it.
Ever Given: the fandom Supercarrier is, unfortunately, your NOTP, and it is impossible to find art/fic/meta of your preferred ship without being impeded by the Ever Given’s presence.
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