Hobie 'doesn't Have A Phone So He Uses His Friends, Bandmates Or A Phone Booth To Call You Brown

Hobie 'doesn't have a phone so he uses his friends, bandmates or a phone booth to call you’ Brown 

(You’ve gotten so used to answering unknown numbers, it’s almost concerning)

Hobie 'doesn't know most internet slang as he doesn't believe in social media and will look at you like you've gone mad if you use it’ Brown

Hobie ‘sleeps like a starfish’ Brown

Hobie ‘following you around while you shop and complimenting what you find no matter your style’ Brown

(He would know what looks good anyhow, ((you look ravishing in anything or not to him anyways)) he WAS briefly a runway model) 

Hobie ‘constantly making you flustered with the way he’s always so handsy but the moment you touch him back he freezes and has to practically reboot himself’ Brown

Hobie ‘feels like he weighs 800 pounds when he lays or leans against you even though he’s a stick sized 6’5’ Brown

(hands on your shoulders or hand on back or waist)

Hobie ‘has to be touching you in any way at almost all times cause he’s a touchy guy’ Brown

Hobie ‘only got a banged up laptop for his tech’ Brown

And a little spice to end it, 

Hobie ‘always calling you riding him “fucking the man”’ Brown

(these are my head cannons of that stupidly lanky brit boy)

(Fun fact to that fun fact about lemon sharks, I’m a dumbass and forgot to mention they do the same to tiger sharks that get close to their diving friends)

Also sorry for the multiple asks from me now /gen

DO NOT STOP WITH THE ASKS AND RHE LEMON SHARKKS.

this is too good !! the phone number one is on point, and i feel like hobie would sleep starfish and be a blanket hog. you’d be like curled up in a ball with a corner of blanket on the edge of the bed by morning.

also i feel like you let hobie dress you up and always at tbhe end he’s like “i knew you were punk”

i feel like whenever hobie sits he’ll have his feet up so like he’ll be sitting with his feet up but slowly lean onto you

that last one was spot on too he totally does that

okay times for my lemon shark facts: lemon sharks are the most researched of all sharks because of their ability to be fine in captivity (although i don’t really agree with it)

lemon sharks have really bad eyesight but also are really good hunters but that may be because their choice in prey are usually fish who are slow lol

my favorite sharks are hammerheads though

more more more 🙏🙏

What if…. Miguel was Gomez Addams?

(Discord brainrot go brrrr)

Miguel was the type of man that knew what he wanted. A man with odd tastes yet with an undeniable charm that had people reeling in. He took pride in being the life of the party, welcoming guests, entertaining with men and wooing the women.

Some would say he’s at the top and would forever be at the top.

However, the moment you walked in, there was a clear shift in the mood. Doors opened and creaked as you came into view, a gentle smile on your red lips and hands delicately placed one on top of the other on your stomach.

Your eyes are on Miguel—him staring back—and the entire room turns to face Miguel. His smile grows at the sight of you, heart beating to life once more.

Miguel drops the champagne glass he held, the cup shattering into shards on impact, and his feet shuffle hurriedly to stand by your side. Few gasps are heard at the pitched sound of glass breaking, alcohol seeping into the wooden floorboards but all of that falls on deaf ears for Miguel.

Your smile tilts higher up when Miguel approaches, both his hands immediately taking one of yours and kissing your knuckles with gusto.

You can feel his breath when he sighs against your skin, his hands clutching desperately onto you while he proceeds to kiss your hand and up your arm. His lips pepper you with affection onto your neck, and to your lips where he leaves a long kiss— your lipstick smeared on his mouth when he pulls away.

But Miguel doesn’t care for that. A bright grin etched on his face while his eyes glow with adoration. He can’t help but press another kiss to your knuckles with a soft moan. You take your other hand and cup his cheek and he leans into your palm.

“Hello, my darling.” You hum. Miguel stands back up, pressing another kiss to your cheek and temple.

“Cara mía…” He whispers back lovingly. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer as if he simply can not get enough of your beauty. He turns to the party goers—his fingers lacing through yours—and introduces you.

“My wife, everyone, has joined us for the night!” He glances back at you. “Gracias, mi reina.” His chest puffs up with pride, ushering you in front of him to walk first.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling.” You tell him sweetly that makes his heart jump at your tone. He knew you were a much secluded person so he didn’t hold it against you if you didn’t want to be at this party. That didn’t mean he wasn’t stuck to you like glue hours prior, wanting to spend time with you as much as he could before separation.

The guests greet you with weary smiles, now knowing that the oddness of the couple would tenfold now that they had each other. They return to their conversations, giving glances and side eyes to you two as you both walked further inside. A sea of people parting while your eyes remained on each other.

“Quieres un poco de vino, mi amor?” He asks, leading you to the table with various bottles.

“Maybe just a few sips tonight, my dear.” You fan yourself with your hand, feeling a little stuffy and warm. Miguel notice’s immediately, quickly letting you go to open a few of the large windows to let some air in. He comes back and hands you a wine glass, pouring the wine for you.

After that, his arm loops behind you, his palm resting on your lower back and leading you around the room while he makes deals and does his job. Well…he does mention you every chance he gets.

“Have you met my wife? She’s brilliant—my most trusted confidant!”

“You know my wife, beautiful woman, said the same thing to me the other day.”

“Oh no, the home decor was not my idea but my wife’s. She’s amazing. Please give your compliments to her instead of me.”

Shamelessly, Miguel would keep your hand in his, kissing up your arm and to your neck. You’d giggle when he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, him smirking and gripping you flush against him—even in front of others, much to their dismay.

It was strange to them just how loving Miguel was to you and you to him. Unusual for a man to be turned into putty that disregarded social norms of keeping public displays of affection to a minimum. They awkwardly looked at one another when Miguel brought you close for a kiss, unable to stop himself from moaning when he tasted the wine from your lips.

One man cleared his throat, blush evident on his cheeks. “W-well, it’s getting late. It must be time for us to go.” His blush darkens when you and Miguel ignore the man for an even deeper kiss with you, your hands combing through his hair. “We’ll talk more business later.”

The guests scurried off one by one, staring at the vulgarity of your blatant love for one another. When the door shut, it echoed along with the soft kisses you and Miguel shared before he lifted you up and sat you on one of the tables. His hands placed on both your thighs while your arms were around his neck.

headcannon: miguel def will get tattoos for gabi and you. it’s probably a picture gabi drew or something she always says. of course the one for you is prob a date (wedding, anniversary your birthday) in your handwriting

insomnia makes me want to die. i’m so done 😭

taunt angst

miguel o’hara x fem!reader — drabble

—-

i can’t be the only one who reads those fics where spider-man keeps missing dates and just want something with more angst, right? like i don’t want them to get back together —- just me? alright 🤷‍♀️

—-

a waiting game. your dates, you mean.

sitting there for two and a half hours turns into a free meal and shots with the waitress. he was ruining you, and this was the final straw. the final time you’d sit on your floor crying after your boyfriend stood you up.

miguel 💋

where are you?

hello??

it’s been an hour

seriously???

wtf read

——

that unfortunately is what all your messages look like, of course followed by a half assed apology and a ‘promise’ to improve his behaviour. you just wanted to turn away from him.

you climbed into your shared bed, the last time you’d be doing that. you’d toss and turn, eventually being woken up my a certain someone.

“hola, amor,” he said, leaning down to take off his shoes.

“no,” you respond, your eyes stinging from tears threatening to fall.

“no? ¿que?”

“get out.”

“get out, amor this is my home,”

“i said get out.” raising your voice, your cheeks read.

“why?”

“you think you can waltz in here after what you did? i waited at that restaurant for two hours!! two hours o’hara! you promised me miguel. the stupid waitress bought my meal, she thought i was on some tinder date! i couldn’t tell her it was my fiancé.” the dark shrouded the room, you were grateful he couldn’t see the pain in your eyes.

“amor im sorry, i promise to do better!”

“JUST GET OUT!!” you throw a pillow at him, breaking down. barely being able to breathe, you scream at him till your voice gives out.

eventually it is only you in the apartment, in the world. your phone rang on end, ignoring calls from miguel, but also your friends, family, peter and jess. begging you to respond.

you could bring yourself to do it, to admit you got played. you could get past this, you could move on. but not right now. no, now was for cursing that man. the man who made you feel loved, only to throw it away. for work? for another woman? you may never know.

but you sure as hell weren’t going to chase after him even though you so desperately wanted to.

—-

i need a long ass fic where he never comes back tbh, somebody make that pretty please. anyway reqs open💋

TAMBALEANDO

pairing: miguel o'hara x exbsf!reader warn: prologue, world building. song: tambaleando by Pedro Suarez Vertiz

let's start on the present,

and never, years ago.

you're name was y/n y/ln, you were a journalist, transfered directly from the nueva york branch years ago, and now you were transferred back there again.

"'there are more interesting stories there' my ass" she glared onto the flat's mirror. it wasn't hard to get a place to stay, 'there's always space' were the exact words of your friend; hobie brown, and he was right;

there is place, but not convinience.

you barged out of the bathroom, stepping into the chaos hobie lived in; 4 more people were living here, and and two where musicians and one an artist, you wished you could call yourself a writer, but you sticked with journalist.

as you grabbed a toast from the table and putting your slice of cash on the counter, yelling with a mouth muffled with toast

"HOBIE! THERE'S MY PART OF THE WATER AND ELECTRICITY, ON THE COUNTER!"

you were greeted with the scawny man leaving his room, grumbling

"don't worry peach, just remember-" you were already halfway through the door "TO BRING SOME BOTTLES! THAT GWEN AND PAVTIR WANT TO MAKE POTS!" he yawned before scratching his scalp.

you closed the door, quickly going down the stairs, not being careful with your heels because in the end of the stair, you fell face first onto the floor,

"uff!"

you stood up quickly, you'd check if you're okay when you're in the cab, hauling a cab was easy, the hard part was getting your makeup done in the cab.

every movement was precise, when you were putting your lipstick on, the car made a turn, running your lip to the side.

"no, no, no, no!" you tried to clean it off, but each time you tried, the color would smudge more, you groaned out loud. when you arrived to your office you ran, being greeted by a nice lady, who guided you to your desk, and let you know, you were needed.

where? on the meeting room.

by who? the fucking boss.

she groaned, silently groaning, trying to wipe your makeup off

"ma'am we need you on the meeting room"

she nodded 'fuck it' she went to the meeting room.

with lipstick smudged on her cheek.

when she walked close enough, she saw a man in a suit, next to the fucking OWNER of the newsfeed.

she tried to walk away, hoping they didn't see her

"Miss l/n!"

you are so screwed.

shit, you had to walk there.

"hello boss, hello sir." you stretched both their hands "i'm-"

"miss l/n right?" the man in the suit cut in "name's peter benjamin, i'm part of alchemax-"

alchemax, great. the biggest pharmaceutical company in the world.

"-and we want you to be the writer of our investigation paper."

"...what?"