#anyway something will show up by Wednesday

[middlingmay]

Horse Trainer!Gale x Veteran!Bucky AU

Part one of my headcanons for this AU is here!

Some warnings to get us started: slight mention of alcohol abuse, references to gun violence, war, death, PTSD and a car accident.

Something bright and cheery for your Wednesday, eh? I promise it gets cute later down the line, just not today! Today we mean business. So here we go!

Bucky couldn’t remember wanting to be anything other than a pilot when he grew up.

His ma used to draw all kinds of aircraft: jets, airliners, gliders, helicopters, even a seaplane once. John would tuck himself into her side and watch, mouth open and fascinated as she drew smooth confident lines.

She explained to him why the nose was this shape, and how the wings and tail needed to be in balance, why the placement and size of the engines mattered. She went to school for it, before he and his sisters came along. Well, before his dad came along, really.

He didn’t take much of it in, he'd be ashamed to realise later, but he did absorb her obsession with aviation. Just not for the design. He would however, try to encourage her to go back to school to finish her degree.

Mama Egan took him to his first air show when he was eight, and she had to scruff him by the neck to stop him from taking off like a shot towards the real, live WWII B-17.

Instead, he thrashed at the end of her hand, jumping around like an eel as she walked him towards it anyway, and accepted the boost inside once his ma had convinced the pilot to let John take a peek inside.

He never looked back.

He enlists when he’s eighteen, and rockets up the ranks quickly. By the time he becomes Major - and a very young Major - the new recruits look at him like he’s some kind of maverick, some kind of legend.

The higher-ups see the natural born leader he is, and the boys in his squadron know him as brave, quick thinking, and with instincts that couldn’t have possibly all come from training. He could read situations in the air like most of them read books. When John Egan had a feeling, or ordered you to do something out of the blue, you did not ask questions.

Although he joined up out of pure enthusiasm and desperation to be a pilot, he quickly sees his time in the air force as an opportunity to help people. But, almost as quickly, he realises that he and the Brass have different views on how to go about that.

He dislikes combat missions the most. Sometimes it’s pretty black and white, and John can feel pride when he sees enemy targets crumble into dust. Or when he’s lost one of his men and he feels a thrum of vengeance he knows he shouldn’t and tries to suppress but sometimes can’t quite help on the darker nights.

But mostly he learns how devastating combat missions are. He much prefers supply drops and recovery missions, but these are so few and far between, that he gives up that privilege to those in his squadron to help keep up their morale. Their morale was his responsibility, after all.

John takes to drinking, just a little bit. Never enough to affect his work. But on days when he can’t shake the anger or the gloom, the glow of whisky helps him hide it better.

Somewhere along the line, his passion burns out and he starts to want out. He’s still one of their best pilots, still a role model for all the pilots, navigators and serving men and women on base - that is to stay, he still acts the part. He signs up for his second eight-year contract, but two years into it, he can’t stomach the thought of the remaining six.

He admits as much on a tearful phone call to his ma, who promises him he doesn’t owe anyone anything, and if he needs to he better get his ass into that doctor’s office or she’ll come and drag him by the ear and drop him at the counsellor’s door herself.

“Don’t you go doing anything stupid, now, John. I didn’t raise a fool.”

And John doesn't. Do anything stupid, that is. But someone does.

Because the mission fucks up, and fucks up in a big way.

It's a recovery mission his squadron all but forces him on, all of them insisting it's his turn, and what did he do to deserve those guys and dolls, huh?

But Ken hadn’t given him the run down of his plane, because he’s taken some PTO, and his replacement ground crew chief was nowhere to be found. And from then on, John just has a bad feeling about the whole thing.

Afterwards, he can't ever remember much, but what it boils down to is two bullets in his shoulder, a dead co-pilot, a murdered political attaché left behind on enemy ground, and a package, called Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal, safe back on American soil. And his superiors patting him on his good shoulder, telling him what a good job he did.

A good fucking job. Like some green kid hadn’t died choking on his own blood, staring at Bucky like he could do something. And a fella in his late 50s, who’d been harping on about his first grandkid, was never going to meet him because his body was never going to make it home.

So, when the doc tells him the physio isn’t working and his mobility is compromised, he barely feels a thing.

Major John Egan. Honourably discharged at twenty-eight.

He’s been warned he might feel a little lost at home. But no one warns him that he’ll mistake a framed photo of his old man as that dead attaché and it would start talking to him: “You left me behind. Who’s going to teach my grandkid ball, now?”

No one tells him he’ll scare the life out of his ma coming home from ladies' brunch, to see John, who’s been standing there God knows how long, still heaving in ragged breaths surrounded by smashed glass with blood running down the hand that holds a sizeable shard of it.

So he agrees to therapy.

It doesn’t go well. Crank sets him up with a friend of his experienced in medically discharged vets, but Bucky can’t disassociate them from the military. They get all mushed up as part of the problem in his head, so he stops going and avoids Cranks calls for a while.

And the dreams get worse. And the sleepwalking hits him like a freight train, although it only happens once. Once is enough.

He ends up on a back road. It’s the only reason, Bucky thinks, he didn’t die. He veers between the grassy verge and the road. It’s dark and he’s wearing all black, and the car doesn’t see him before it’s too late. They weren’t going too fast, but they clip him all the same and he wakes up in a hospital.

And the docs have evidently spoken to his ma, because whilst they’re treating his physical wounds, someone comes for a psyche eval and he gets a stern warning that either he gets proper counselling voluntarily, or he’ll legally be forced to. A much less pleasant experience.

And he meets the driver who clipped him. A shorter guy called Curt who walks in rubbing the back of his neck and not quite able to look John in the eye until he says, “Irish, huh? That how you didn’t hit the bullseye? Too short to see over the steering wheel?”

Curt cackles and the two of them talk easy after that.

In fact, John finds it easier to talk to Curt than anyone else since he left the air force. He tells Curt about the disillusionment of it all, the anger, the dreams, all of it. And Curt understands because he used to be in the medical corps and he knows there are things you can’t unsee. Some things a man just can’t reckon with himself.

But, Curt also tells him about the horse ranch he goes to, that helped him when no shrink or medication could.

Cleven Ranch he calls it, and tells John that when he’s up and ready, he’ll take him there.

#clegan #buck x bucky #horse trainer!gale #veteran!john #mota au #alternative universe #headcanon #john egan #gale cleven #curtis biddick

[donationwayne]

WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by @disasterbuck

He lights up when Bobby and Athena arrive with Harry and May in toe. May sits behind the booth in Buck’s chair and happily eats cupcakes, paid for by Bobby. Harry on the other hands goes in search of Denny and Chris on the playground. Bobby gives him a hug and Buck smiles big and wide. “Thanks for coming!” “Hey, baby.” Athena says, looking over his table. He leans down to allow her to place a kiss on his cheek. “Hey, ‘Thena,” He glances over at Bobby who is inspecting the display. “Why don’t you just call her mom already?” May asks with a catty grin, tossing a cupcake wrapper into the trash. Buck is saved from responding by the appearance of one of the counselors. “Hello, you two must be Mr. Buckley’s parents. Its so nice to meet Chris’ grandparents, I’m glad you two are already getting so active in the school. We love our little community.” May from her spot behind the table appears absolutely delighted by the turn of events. Buck isn’t sure who is more shell shocked: himself, Bobby, or Athena. Athena recovers the quickest, “That’s us.” Buck feels a bit like a teenager all over again while Athena and Bobby talk about Buck’s accomplishments, or lack there of in front of the table of sweets. “You’re the talk of the bake sale, people are raving about those cupcakes.” The counselor tells him and Buck feels himself blush in embarrassment. “Anyways, just wanted to introduce myself, thanks for coming out tonight.” “Where’s Eddie?” May asks, around a mouthful of cupcake, now unimpressed by the havoc the counselor had wrought after the lack of drama. “Also if anyone asks about ages, I’m just going to tell everyone Buck had a teen pregnancy.” “You’re worse than Hen and Karen,” Buck threatens throwing a napkin at her head. “I take that as a compliment. Now, where’s your fiancé?” “Wandering,” Buck says, ‘He went to check on Chris earlier but he hasn’t come back yet.” “He abandoned you, are you sure he’s the one?” May teases and Buck comes around the table to attack her. She giggles and screams when he throws her over his shoulder and heads towards the doors where he knows there’s a fountain. A few of the other parents and staff look at them fondly. He holds her over the fountain while she scrabbles to hold on to him, apologizing and shouting and giggling. When the return they’re both wiping away tears of laughter. That’s the moment Eddie chooses to show back up. “Hey Cap, Athena!” Buck turns and sees Eddie closing the distance, there’s a smudge of strawberry something on his cheek like maybe he’d been off eating sweets not created by Buck himself. “Are you cheating on me with another pastry? Is that what took so long?” Buck accused teasingly.

Hello, this fic won't be out for roughly forever but this is mostly what I've been working on. This is my first sneak peak at the big bang fic I'm working on!!!!

If you want to be tagged when it finally releases please let me know!!!

Context: Buck is working a bake sale at Chris' school. Eddie and Buck are faking as fiances so Eddie could get Chris in (was it necessary? No. Did they do it anyways? Yes.)

Anyway, have a scene of a Buck and May siblingism.

Its the end of the day already so I won't tag anyone but if you wanna do it please tag me so i can see!!!!! <3

ALSO IF THERE IS TYPOS PLEASE IGNORE THIS IS DRAFT ONE BABY

#wip wednesday #comment or message me to be tagged when this fic finally comes out #911 abc #aubs rambles #evan buckley #may grant #grant nash family #eddie diaz #911 on abc #911 #911 wip #buddie wip

[carcarrot]

scrolling back through my liveblogging of the day of the nyc concert because of recent notifications and its such a fun mixed bag of emotions to relive it all again

#helloooooo pineapple in my notes i do not mind the likes and reblogs <3 #but it was such a crazy day that day of the show. so much happened #i also didn't remember that the day before the concert is when my bus got messed up and was taking me back to ny #and i had to get a car service home and everything #and then there was the concert the next day! #and what i had done was worked monday. took all of tuesday off for the concert. got like maybe 4 hour of sleep if that #and then went back to work wednesday. stupid #it worked out fine lol but i dont think id do it that way again idk #other remembrances of the day: #my biggest regret is getting all worked up abt my stupid letter that never got to them anyway like jeez. obviously i still enjoyed the show #but still. OH and i missed out on getting the latte pinback buttons #not the biggest deal but i did want those. i was just awkwardly standing around before the nyc show #and the merch line was always super long anyway #what else. oh i wish i could have met those of you that were there. but next time! im cooler now so next time. #the show itself was crazyyyy. again so fun and surreal #one of the tags on my original review was something along the lines of me having not been this excited since i was a kid #and it was really like that. like it really was that absolute pure overjoyed excitement that i haven't felt for a long time #i felt the same at the hollywood bowl. just having so much fun (missing it now lol 🥲) #cant remember if i mentioned this before but when i was standing outside the stage door i saw both spike lee and adam driver leave backstage #adam driver is Tall. i didnt even recognize him at first fdhgkgkg #anyway. some thoughts almost a year later wow!

[diaryofagoodpuppy]

.

#as always ignore this #prob gonna be doing rants till I get home im sorry :( #but ever since i was pregnant ive had this problem with gagging right #never once gagged unless it was on a dick lol #anyway i had to hold my fathers hand while we prayed and a gag came up 😭😭😭 #I CANT CONTROL IT #he didn’t get me anything for Christmas and i didn’t expect him to #he didn’t get his parents anything either #or my sister #I didn’t wanna be purposely/obviously rude so I got him something #i got him some star wars thing idc #I even wrote ”dad” on the label because I didn’t want it to be weird #I haven’t called him that since high school I think #I took a picture of it too to show my sister lol #& i caught him in a lie so that was entertaining at least lol #(also feels weird that i was pregnant today of last year and had no idea. i even took ”food baby” pics after Christmas dinner not knowing + #that I was literally pregnant lmao #BUT my father & i are going to dinner wednesday because i can’t say no to save my life 🤪 #if you made it this far i love you & hope you had the best christmas <3

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So okay I don't know if this is like...a cool thing to do or not, but there's a fic I claimed from the 2022 kink meme list (I couldn't resist, in large part because Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center was listed by the prompter as one of their inspirations for the prompt) that I'm not sure when I'll actually finish writing but I have started it and I'd like to at least acknowledge that I'm doing it even if the prompter won't see this. But the prompt is something along the lines of anything highly specific and niche (like my strip mall AU lol), and I actually happen to have a growing little stockpile of very very niche knowledge about my chosen professional field, which is ceramics! I specialize in wheel-throwing (though I'm also a...passable hand at plaster mold-making/slip casting and handbuilding, I just don't enjoy them nearly as much) so I've started a little something from Lan Wangji's point of view that's a love letter to throwing ♥

--//--

As is tradition, Lan Wangji works in porcelain.

The Lan family have been respected masters of porcelain for centuries, generations stretching back, back, back nearly to the beginning of the imperial kiln production in Jingdezhen. They once produced the enormous pots that adorned emperors’ palaces – there are (very distant) cousins of his in Jingdezhen who still do so for wealthy patrons.

It’s easy to forget such a background when he enters his personal studio on the other side of the world and flicks on the lights to begin the day’s routines. It’s precisely what he wants – a quiet life like this, simple and unassuming, is much more suited to his desire than the weight of tradition that could otherwise press him and his work down into something he would never want to be.

Not that he deviates very far from tradition anyway, but it’s the principle of the thing. Lan Wangji takes quiet pleasure in simplicity, in function that is beautiful in its hard-won mastery. There are very few non-traditional ways to accomplish this that he’s interested in, but he likes having the option should he want to take it. 

Lan Wangji had learned to throw at his uncle’s knee as soon as it was possible to do so. He has continued to do so since childhood with a single-mindedness that once surprised even his uncle. All he’d ever wanted to do was to sit at the wheel for hours and hours on end, only pausing to warm the water in his bowl with a fresh influx from the kettle and to transfer full wareboards (once he was strong enough) to the drying racks in the corner of his uncle’s studio.

Lan Wangji has always struggled to find the words to convey how integral the motion of the wheel and the smooth slip of clay through his finger and against his palms is to feeling like he fits into his skin properly, but his family seems to understand just the same.

Yesterday, as the sun was westering, Lan Wangji had weighed up a few bags of fresh porcelain. The lumps are waiting for him now, tumbled together under their protective sheets of plastic, ready to be molded and shaped by hands and hypnotic motion. There’s enough of a chill in the studio this time of year that there isn’t any condensation on the plastic when he lifts it, so he folds it away neatly and settles into the easy rhythm of wedging his clay to prepare it for the wheel.

There is, in the middle of the studio, a sturdy butcher’s block workbench. He built it himself right there in the studio, the first piece of furniture that had filled the space even before he’d purchased his Shimpo wheel. It’s very likely too heavy to lift – it’s certainly too big to ever get through the door – but he has no intention of ever leaving this studio to begin another, so it suits his purposes just fine.

Wedging the clay on this sturdy, hip-height table is nearly as meditative a process as all the rest of it. A bit more of a workout than sitting at the wheel, but it’s a good way to warm up in the morning, his muscles well accustomed to the push-turn-push-turn-push-turn of spiral wedging that it’s gone beyond second nature, it simply is. His mind wanders pleasantly as he watches the misshapen lumps of pure porcelain become smooth and rounded beneath his palms. Perhaps he’ll spend the day on bowls. They’re quick and simple, suited to his mood today, and he’ll have plenty of them done by lunch when he already knows his typical solitary routine will be interrupted (and can therefore plan for it so far in advance). 

The sun is up properly by the time Lan Wangji finishes his wedging, and once he’s transferred the first batch of prepared clay to the wheel he pauses to stand in the open doorway and look out over the garden that sits between his studio and his home. The grass and the flowers are glittering fresh and dewy in the sunlight as he rolls his shoulders, stretches out his back in preparation to be seated for long hours.

When he returns, the wheel welcomes him, familiar and comforting. He fills an old bird seed bucket with warm water from the tap and arranges the small mirror at the back of the wheel’s tray to the perfect angle to watch his own hands before he settles in and takes a deep breath, sleeves rolled up and apron cinched comfortably tight around his waist as an unnecessary reminder to keep his back as straight as he can while he works.

The first ball of porcelain hits the perfect bullseye of the wheelhead and Lan Wangji leans in to begin centering, the porcelain buttery soft where it runs under his hands. Porcelain, he knows, is notorious for being difficult to work with, particularly for beginners. This far into his career, it’s simply polite and responsive to each confident press of his palms. He cones it first, hands curled around it to coax it in and up; presses it down again with the flat of his hand, every movement focused on the centerpoint of the wheel gliding silently through magnet-powered rotations. 

Up. 

Down again. 

Up.

Down.

Push.

Press.

Lan Wangji loves every part of the throwing process for what it is, but if he were to have to choose only one, this would be his favorite: the moment he can feel the clay running smoothly, perfectly centered the whole way through and ready to become whatever he will tell it to be, the possibilities – for this moment – endless.

#the untamed fanfic #WIP Wednesday #Lan Wangji #If I'm not mistaken the name of the prompt in the list is 'Bring Your Yiling Laozu To Work Day' or something to that effect #and I do plan on WWX showing up later in a way that's inspired by some of my friends in the studio #who work MUCH more chaotically than I do #(ie one of them currently goes mudlarking and digging for wild clay then brings it all in to chuck it in the kiln just to see what happens) #the other one can't remember anything that they do because they take no notes and treat highly precise chemical processes like they're #still a chef adding a dash of this and a dash of that to whatever's in their mixing bowl #and then there's me with my extensive notes and thoroughly researched glazes and all being like #'.....sometimes I don't mind if my glaze ingredients are a gram or two off' #anyway for anyone who didn't know I'm a ceramicist and it's one of my special interests lol #my profile picture and header images across both my blogs are photos of my current work #oh and the Shimpo wheel?????? IT'S A FUCKIN DREAM #the museum I sometimes teach workshops at borrowed one from a different college than mine in town and it was just #so fuckin NICE. It's DEAD SILENT and smooth as silk #and the pedal stays where you put it so if you're doing something large scale you can stand up to get your arm down in it #without having to balance on one foot or sacrifice speed or anything #it was like heaven #it's also like 4k to buy new so LOL NOPE

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#on Wednesday i have to talk abt myself for departmental seminar for like 4min. all the new grad students have to #like where ur from. what u do. what u do in ur freetime and i can guarantee that at least 80% will b like #i like to hike and b outside!!! with outdoors-y pictures. and i like to b outside but mostly i like to consume media and draw #so im like do i put myself on blast for drawing by showing something ive drawn? i dont particularly want to #i probably will tho. im tempted to try to draw this insane thing. it will b cool if i can do it but i have like 3 presentations to get ready #this week so i probably wont have enough time to do it unless i stop sleeping or stop being depressed #god it woulf take so much time i dont have. but it would b cool. it would b a fucking insane thing to show to my departure tho lmao #which kinda makes me wanna do it. like my advisor wont b there so he wont be there to go: ...is that along [insert sampling location]? #and i dont have to b like yes that is in fact a petrified angel laying in [insert sampling location]. i assure u im extremely normal and #this has no reflection on my state of mind lol. also showing a bunch of Evolutionary Biologist religious imagery seems insane #which again makes me wanna do it lol. well see. ill probably just put up that drawing of a cat in a poolside chair that i took in Portugal #ay ay ay. so much to do. relax they say. take care of urseld they say. and yet the list of things i have requirements to get done is ever #expanding. so it goes. maybe ill draw my angel anyway #unrelated

[elegyofthemoon]

ngl tho if they dont have my schedule by the end of the day (bc they still havent given me one yesterday) i might explode 🤭

#snow speaks #vent #tw vent #like for the most part im chill bc i can just go study my own thing (and i need it anyways) #but also. #if a lot of the grading for this is subjective im sure im not doing super well rn since im constantly running in and out and overall being #confused as heck #i do actually need a rigid schedule so ik what im doing #also doesnt help that apparently the rest of the students here ALSO dont have access to materials to work properly #so we've got the short end of the stick 🤭 #anyways. we carry on #i have two things to do this morning so ill have to see how that goes #and maybe drop by the schedule place again 🫠🫠🫠 #Well! i also said wednesdays will be a destressor day since its dead center #but we shall see where it takes me #i might push myself to read up/study more #idk. i just need to know like. when am i expected to show up. how long. what should i be doing. #they kinda just threw me in and ive been ????? #like yeah! i am actively seeking stuff out but ?? i worry that bc i dont know what i should be doing #im neglecting something i OUGHT to be doing #but anyways. we're fine lmao

[obstinaterixatrix]

last year: yeah I’ve been into musicals for a while but I can’t really say I’m a hardcore fan only because I don’t know much beyond a couple specific shows and I haven’t gotten to see much at all for a while

this year: an entire world of resources has been opened up to me I’ve watched 3 shows 7 times each and have been chewing on this workshop recording with rabid intensity for months

#talking abt musicals #the thing is I actually usually don’t get into musicals by soundtracks #I actually do have to see or know something about the show first #during high school I got mom hooked and we were able to see a pro show or two every year or two #plus I was in this… program? where I got to see free high school productions by volunteering to write reviews #and then some… people would choose which reviews fo publish at the school newspaper or maybe even local papers #I never ended up getting picked so it didn’t really matter #I don’t think any of my reviews were what anybody wanted I didnt know shit about writing like a theater critic #also I have no memory of how I got into this #so other than the pro shows I was also just seeing a lot in general I guess #for… one year? one semester? #and doing stage crew and doing ensemble when I was a senior (bc obviously seniors pass auditions right) #man I was doing chorus and color guard and set building and musical rehearsals that year #and I’m pretty sure some county chorus also #did I really do all that? #wack #no wait yeah I remember I think it was wednesdays mom had to drive me to the local college for chorus rehearsals so that wasnt the hs chorus #anyway it’s because of the review program thing I actually got to see more than I would’ve #but I only remember… wait no it was way more than 3 #it was thoroughly modern millie and chicago and sideshow and once on this island and peter pan #OH AND LITTLE WOMEN #wow I completely forgot about all of that #I remember because sutton foster’s the lead for millie and little women and I was really into sutton foster because of the one song I knew #from drowsy chaperone #WAIT ALSO LES MIS #I remember the high school bridge scene #and then in borders I’d go to the music section and look up cds and listen to them #I don’t think it was as common to upload osts on yt? #and I’m pretty sure we ended up seeing shrek on bway specifically because I wanted to see sutton foster #and then she DISAPPEARED INTO TV

[timeisacephalopod]

On one hand I would love to watch Wednesday, but I've watched reviews and even before that the trailers for it told me it was Addams Family themed Riverdale and that's exactly what the reviews said too ���🥹🥹

#winters ramblings #my dad used to call me Wednesday as a kid. i used to think he was exaggerating because i always loved Wednesday #and never felt i lived up to that name but uh. i mean i do actually lmao #my fav genre is horror and as a kid i used to hang out in a graveyard. im obviously macabre enough lmao #anyway would have LOVED a new addams family story but uh no. intead it was Riverdale but Slightly Different #so you know. that sucks since that animated feature that came out was even less my bag #its like no one making these adaptions even understood the og content #like sure the movie is most of my knowledge base but also wtf even IS the concept for Wednesday?? #who wants addams family content with no FAMILY?? and why this stupid boarding school setting?? #anyway Wednesday should have been an adult themed show about her leaving home and learning to balance #her family with her independence outside of her family while doing a career in death related something #or really anything that still involved the damn family in the addams FAMILY canon

[squigglywindy]

Okay y’all hold me to this I’m staying away tomorrow

#squiggles rambles #If I show up just fricken #beat me over the head and tell me to get lost #I will check asks but probably won’t answer until Wednesday or something #They should invent a thing where you can pay someone to give you a hug #Idk that’s a random thing and doesn’t belong here #But I want someone to absolutely crush me and just stay that way for a really long time #I want to be squished by a hug #Anyway #Yeah #Imma try and peace out for a bit #Sorry for being here and sorry for leaving and idk guys just sorry in general idk what the right move is

[tardis--dreams]

May I present you a rough translation of the abomination of a text i wrote in my korean exam:

Hello

[Self introduction]

Last month i bought a water purifier* at the water purifier shop and it's already broken.

[Me not knowing how exactly a water purifier works]: There’s no water coming out.

[Me not knowing what exactly a water purifier is good for]: We have a party next weekend, so we need water. Therefore the water purifier needs to be fixed by Friday.

My phone number is 000111000. If i don't answer my phone please sent me an email to [email protected].

*truth be told I'm only like 55% certain the words meant water purifier. It would be very funny if it was something completely different lmao

#im too afraid to look up the word #tHe WaTer pUrIFieR sHoP #unmatched creativity #선생님 im so sorry #you don't deserve this ahahah #also the Other text was just translation #but the sentence 'i want to tell my colleagues that I love them' made my brain bluescreen #also i realized afterwards that i had most of the grammar correct originally before i changed everything (: #aaand the text for reading comprehension was really easy #but i couldn't understand the questions for shit #i simply had no idea what it said even though there were only two words i didn't recognize #i just wrote some random stuff just in case there might be something to give me points for in there lmao #ok #anyway #now I'll have to prepare something for my thesis to show my professor tomorrow #otherwise i can't register my thesis and then i won't get to finish by march 15 which then would lead to me losing my master program spot #and therefore also my chance to go to korea and also my entire future essentially ahaha (no pressure) #then tomorrow i will stay awake again all night to study for my korean oral exam and on Wednesday to Thursday night I'll #stay awake to prepare a proposal for my term paper (that i won't write until mid march which i can't tell her #because the deadline is march 31 and she wants us to start working asap. and i can't tell her about the ba situation #it's too humiliating #okay anyway. that meeting with my professor tomorrow scares me to death but it's gonna be f i n e #shut up amy #university ramblings

[teledild0nix]

last night our toilet clogged

right now our toilet is sitting in the shower and we have 2 dehumidifiers and a hepa filter all making a godawful sound they're so LOUD it rlly sets my teeth on edge

#it's hard to think tbh #and we have to get pieces of our wall and ceiling knocked out #because it's like bad or something to have toilet juice in your walls and ceiling #but before that we have to get our walls and ceiling tested for lead and asbestos #fun times #the sledgehammers are coming on tuesday or wednesday most likely #this is all 'probably' covered by insurance #after the plumber came the drying out the walls guys showed up really fast #they seemed to think it was serious! #my head hurts #oh also the dehumidifiers in the kitchen (because the toilet is right over the kitchen) #so the toilet juice was running down the inside of the kitchen walls! #anyway #the hoses from the dehumidifiers in the kitchen are going down the kitchen sink #so we can't really use it #so we gotta eat out #wonder if insurance will pay for that too?

[st5lker]

#i have wednesdays off either way so im wondering if i should just pile them all onto one day #so i can use m/w to work or something... but also it would mean less time to like socialize and see people at college #though to be fair if i have that class at 4 pm i'm probably not gonna show up earlier than 4 pm most days anyways...

[tootiecakes234]

Katsuki “asking” you to move in with him

You were almost back home when you got a call from your boyfriend. He didn’t even greet you when you answered.

“Where are you?”, he grunted into his phone.

“Well hello to you too handsome.”

“Yea, yea… where are you? I’m at your place to pick you up and ya ain’t here.”

“Heh… maybe if I knew you were coming over I would’ve been home. Why didn’t you text me and let me know. I don’t have any clothes packed or anything.”you informed him.

He does this all the time. Just comes over to your house and tells you that you’re coming back to his place with him. So very demanding.

“You have a dresser full of clothes in my room, your toothbrush and all your toiletries… what do ya need to pack?”

“Ya got me there. I’m almost there. I got stuff to drop off then we can leave.”

When you get through the door Katsuki is digging through your fridge.

“Why do you never have groceries in your house?” He questions you.

“Because I’m never here sir. They always go bad because I have a needy boyfriend that wants me at his house 25/8.”, the sarcasm drips out of your voice as you head to drop off the things you had bought.

“ Tch…. Needy. Please. You’re the one always complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.” He states.

“This is true.” You shrug your shoulders. “Anyways I’m ready. Let’s hit it.

“It’d be easier to spend time together if you just moved in with me” he mentions all causally as you guys head out to his car. You pause a little and look at him a little baffled.

You and Katsuki had been dating for about 8 months but you didn’t know he felt that seriously. Maybe he was just joking, so you shake it off and continue on like he didn’t say it.

The next thing you know you’re at his house getting ready for bed.

Kats comes to the bathroom and leans against the counter while you’re in the middle of doing your skincare.

“Do you wanna say something?” You ask because he’s just sitting there staring at you.

“Do you not wanna live with me cuz you could’ve just said that when I mentioned it earlier instead of fucking ignoring me.” He asked it harshly but you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. Like he didn’t want to bring it up but it was bugging him bad enough that he had to say something.

“I- uh…”

Apparently you were taking too long.

“Just forget it.” His eyes fell from yours and he started moving away towards his room. “Are we watching the next episode of that stupid show of yours? If not-“

“I didn’t think you were serious Kat.” And you reach your hand out to catch his arm before he can leave.

“I thought you were joking or something. Also it wasn’t a question so I didn’t know you were waiting on an answer babe.” There’s a small grin pulling at your lips when he looks at you again.

“Why the hell would I joke about that? And it was obviously a question…. So answer it dammit.”, his brows were furrowed and he was scowling a little.

Poor nervous boy.

You reach both of your arms up and wrap them around his neck. Then you lean in and press a kiss to his pouting lips.

“Katsuki Bakugo *kiss* I would absolutely *kiss* love *kiss* to move in with you *kiss*”

His arms have wrapped around you waist pulling you tighter to him.

“About damn time. I’ll have people come over to pack your shit tomorrow.” And this time he leans in to give his a deep kiss. His tongue reaching out to invade your mouth.

When he pulls back you’re all twinkle eyed and dopey in love. It takes a second for reality to catch up to you.

“Tomorrow?? Kats I have a lease and I don’t want movers breaking and throwing my things around. I’m gonna need at least a week or two. And I’m gonna have to pay-“

“I’ll pay for the lease break and you have til this weekend. If ya don’t want movers I’ll get our shitty friends to come over and help. Ain’t waiting no two weeks.”

“This weekend? It’s Wednesday. That only gives me 2 days!” You reason.

“Yea and I don’t wanna give you that so count your blessings princess. And I’m done arguing about this.” He sweeps you up bridal style and carries you to bed. Then He dumps you down onto it.

“Now how about we start christening your new place,” he says while hovering over you with a sexy smirk playing at his lips.

Hmmmm….. and just like that you forgot why it was you weren’t moving in tomorrow. He could be so very convincing when he wanted to be.

Katsuki Masterlist

#tootietalks #imagine #bakugou x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #bakugou katsuki x reader #drabble #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo headcanons #fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugo #bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo katuski

[churipu]

Ipinnn hear me out. Gojo sees his gf reader (who is stoic, a typical intj lol) saved his contact on her phone as "pretty boy". Note: reader never calls him any petname. Not even babe. Please your take on this😗😗 this thought has been plaguing my mind.

An intj char>> Wednesday Addams

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦 !

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. nothing, happy reading :)

note. hi hi nonnie, i'm so so so so sorry for the late update on your ask. i know you had a follow up ask and told me that this isn't a request, but i really wanted to write one for gojo because, honestly, gojo, brainrot. yes. anyways, i hope you enjoy this <3

"baby, can i please borrow your phone? i need to ring nanami for a mission," gojo poked your cheek — a couple of times at that, his blindfold holding back his white locks like a bandana, "i forgot to charge mine last night, please please?"

you cocked your head to the side where your phone laid right by your thigh, "password's your birthday."

gojo almost choked on his own saliva at the sound of his own birthday being your phone's password. a small device that's somehow supposed to be your safe sanctuary. considering how you don't have the sweetest tongue, this was a big honor for him.

he dived right beside you, clicking his birthday into the password engine and like you said — it unlocked the phone. gojo spared you a glance, "'ts really my birthday? your password's my birthday?"

humming in agreement, you then felt his lips land on your cheek. grazing your skin gently, "i thought you knew?"

gojo shook his head, "i didn't, but now i do!"

the man respects your privacy like you respected his, and so like his earlier words — he placed the phone to his ear after clicking in various numbers. it took him a while to start speaking, specifically after the third try.

you just knew nanami was ignoring his calls.

gojo began scolding, supposedly nanami who was on the other line regarding his late actions in picking up the call (which was not a rare occurrence at all) — but dived back in the topic pretty quickly, mentioning a mission a couple of times along with the name of itadori yuuji, whom you vividly recognized as sukuna's vessel.

your boyfriend then ended the call after cheerfully marveling out a goodbye. and just then, like something dawned upon you, your eyes traveled to him, "can you help me send a message to you."

gojo raises his brow in apparent confusion, but he nodded anyways, "to me? about what? why don't you just say it to me now, baby? 'm right here, why do you have to send me a message?"

"because there are a lot of things i want to ask for the next time you go on a mission," you mutter.

he tapped on your phone screen a couple of times, eyebrows furrowing deeply, "baby, why aren't i in your messages? did you block me?" his heart dropped to his stomach when he showed you the phone screen.

you wondered why he never bothered on checking the various profile pictures that sat inside a small sphere right beside their respectable contact names — sighing, you grabbed your phone and showed him the screen again, "what do you mean? you're pinned, right there," you pointed your index finger towards the message at the very top.

gojo blinked his cerulean blue eyes vigorously, eyeing the contact. my pretty boy. with a red heart emoji he never saw you use along your messages to anyone, not even him.

but there his contact sat on the very top, with a nickname, and an emoji. his mouth formed a little 'o' and he looks at you, "you named me your pretty boy?" his voice came out delicate, as if he was still washed over in surprise.

nodding your head, gojo slipped himself into your embrace, leaning his head into the space in between your neck and shoulder blade. his soft breaths hitting your skin, "satoru?"

"'m so happy, i could die." he dramatically whispers, "i'm pinned, you gave me a nickname, and then a red heart emoji? baby, do you know how happy that makes me?"

he slightly pulls back from you, staring into your eyes as you slowly shake your head, wondering what has gotten into him this time.

"did you really think i'd name anyone else that when you're my boyfriend, 'toru?" you questioned him, poking his cheek, "you didn't even question about my pinned message too."

gojo leaned his forehead towards yours, "what can i say? it's not like you could cheat on someone like me, 'm too charming," he teases you with a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose, resulting in you scrunching it up slightly.

"whatever you say," you tell him, "what i was going to tell you is that — could you bring me back a lot of kikufuku next time? you ate everything last time and i didn't get any."

he chuckles, "anything for you, and yes you did get a lot."

"if one piece out of twelve is a lot, then i'm sorry for being dramatic," gojo laughs softly at the sight of how serious you looked while saying the said statement, "why're you laughing?"

he shook his head, "you're just too cute."

"can you send the message now so you won't forget the next time? and pin it, please. i really want them," gojo tangled his slender fingers in your hair, brushing them back.

"baby, i could get them for you right now, you know that?"

"i know, but you seemed very busy today so i could wait until you finish a mission," you mumbled, hand on his arm, rubbing them up and down his skin, "didn't want to bother you today."

gojo frowns a bit, "you're never a bother, say it. come on, say it."

you eye him oddly, "say what?"

"that you want me to go get you some kikufuku, three box, six box, ten, a hundred, you name me a number and i'll get them for you right now." he cooed — he brushed his lips against the side of your face, "come on, 'm waiting."

breaking a ghost of a smile, you nod, "i want them now, two box. one for you and one for me," raising up two fingers.

gojo nodded, "two box it is, pretty boy express coming through," he finally pecked your lips delightfully.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #fluff #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #female reader #satoru gojo

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒔 #miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #spider man 2099 smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #edit: it's been two days and I'm STILL seeing grammar/spelling errors I'M SO FUCKING TIRED