#i think i'm finally all cried out
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aphel1on · 11 months ago
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neuvillette's lore is actually insane. we all took one look at him and went "haha dragon🫵" but i significantly underestimated how big of a role he would play. he's the incarnation of the original hydro sovereign. he took back his rule right under the heavenly principles' nose. he's the one handing out hydro visions now (not even because he has to, he doesn't, he just grew so fond of humanity that he chooses to). he gave away the hydro gnosis bc he straight up doesn't need it. he's planning to DETHRONE ALL OF THE ARCHONS (in a few hundred years, when the traveler's not around to see it, so it won't be awkward for them). he's kind and soft-spoken. he's full of vengeful rage. he's a father to hundreds. he found his purpose after feeling lost for 500 years. skirk pulled him aside for a super-secret convo and when he saw us again he immediately spilled the tea. as far as i can tell, he spawned into existence fully formed. no other character can fucking compare
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hotasfahrenheit · 6 months ago
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the audacity of 1000 Years Old to come in swinging for the gut with an ABSOLUTE RECONTEXTUALIZATION OF THE ENTIRE SERIES RIGHT AT THE END, IN THE FINALE, and the need i have to rewatch the entire series immediately and cry about it has been driving me insane since i finished the finale earlier today
i just keep thinking about various moments and flashbacks and just losing it
i'm ok everything is fine
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vaguely-concerned · 1 month ago
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just going about my day idly contemplating how some of the ways hawke can interact with a romanced anders are not at all unlike how they interact with leandra (and a bit of carver too, especially with a purple hawke), and then thought about my hawke in the timeline where he romances anders and was hit straight in the face with 'was he ever actually in love, or was he just desperately trying to renegotiate with his mother's ghost in any way he could' and now i need to lie down. this is the power of dragon age 2
#'you don't know my mother' haunting me through the years#dragon age#dragon age 2#hawke#On second thought let's not go to Kirkwall; it is a silly place#there are of course as many ways to do/read that relationship as there are players to interact with it haha and all valid!#but my personal version of handers is sooo fucked up and bad times for everyone involved and I love it haha.#this is a relationship neither of them should have been in and that made everything worse and everyone unhappy in the end#locked tomb levels of the horrors of love. i ship it but in the way that I want to make it sadder and more gutwrenching each time#to be clear this is a very mutual two-way kind of fucked up but I think varric in his loyalty and love would downplay hawke's side of it#for huge swathes of their relationship anders is not in a mental place to be a good partner and the emotional blackmail is Not Okay#(but it's just like how mother used to make it! hawke's soul cries sadly as it reaches for it hungrily)#which is in some ways fair enough no one could accuse him of not warning you ahead of time fjskda#but hawke is messy about it in a way only available to a covert people pleaser who has never had a millisecond of therapy#with some added stuff that my hawke is always acespec in some form and when he gets together with anders...#is the sex something he doesn't particularly care to have or not have but it 'makes anders happy'/he longs to feel wanted *and* needed#and also a way he gets out of ever being *actually* vulnerable (which I think he'd had to be with varric for example if he Went There )#'you want the hawke who's in your head so badly and I kind of wish I were that hawke too. so let's be collaborateurs with that fantasy'#(and then maybe if I do it right every time you'll finally be happy hawke says in his heart looking at this leandra-anders phantom form)#(and echoing stuff in varric's relationship to hawke but I think the important distinction there is that varric -- is a craftsman haha#he KNOWS when he's lying/making up a story he KNOWS the difference between what is and what he wishes the world was#(I think there's some deep longing there to not know; for it to blend together or have the power to change things. but he always knows)#which ironically leaves him in a better position to actually see and understand hawke the person#even as he is creating hawke the literary figure. almost to protect him in some ways? god da2 is so full of STUFF!!! I adore it)#and of course anders gets so disillusioned with hawke's inertia and lack of action (you all but married this man anders!#you should know this about him he's already carrying the whole family and city on his shoulders if you add a gram more he'll collapse!)#and hawke feels so desperately hurt that the promise anders seemed to make that he'd be enough -- that he could fix things for him --#('I'm the one bright light in kirkwall and that apparently doesn't count for shit so I'm just slowly turning to ash for you')#turned out to be untrue. anyway. sad now. imagine them meeting like twenty years on what the fuck could you even say to each other then#(I can't imagine Hawke ever physically hurting anyone he loves so he just tells Anders to leave at the end of DA2. they COULD meet again
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belle--ofthebrawl · 1 year ago
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A few days late but I've only just gathered the emotional strength to go through my concert goodies. Bracelets, a sticker and one banana.
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zaynes-left-chesticle · 8 months ago
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Fuuuuuuck my freaking life 🤬 I think I hate this deer more than the spinny asshole
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seaweedstarshine · 10 months ago
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Eleventh Doctor Chronicles: Sins of the Flesh is really good. Really really good. Experience with certain attitudes can be so isolating, surrounded by people who won’t bother to understand the impact of growing up in that environment (because the world's so progressive now, right), and so — I'm so glad it exists. I also liked the discussion in the interview commentary about how being a monster and doing monstrous things are not mutually exclusive. Like most things, homophobia is pervasive because it is structural. Religious fervor is not inherently bad — “your god is love,” Valarie says to Lily — but as soon as hellfire is brandished around, it's used routinely to empower monstrous things, in a way that becomes unsafe to debate. Especially for young & dependent people who can't escape it.
Conditional love. Moral panics. Purity culture. Self-hate. Mob mentality. This audio. It's timely.
I appreciated what they said in the interviews about not only about the research, but the four rounds of sensitivity readings. I wish the TV show had that level of care sometimes…
#actually the whole Everywhere and Anywhere boxset is excellent#tw homophobia#valarie lockwood#eleventh doctor#so I listened to the second audio in a muggy headspace when it came out and comprenhended none of it and thought what.#then I listened again today and understood it perfectly and cried the whole way thru. I love Valarie's husband ngl#they SHOULD have a poly marriage with Roanna on Medrüth to add to the timey wimeyness. totally normal to the Doctor#the Doctor emotionally saying Rivers death breaks his hearts in the same episode where he says-#'she looks drained. I guess marriage does that to you'. honestly all of the yowzah refs in eleventh doctor chronicles are kind of gold.#and the first story!!!!!! Valerie's dead mother!!!!!! the Clara mention in the summary was fully clickbait tho#oh and the Doctor telling Valerie about the Ponds at the end? SCREAMING- he didnt tell Clara about the Ponds!#in other audio news im slowly gettin thru eighth doctor audios while working. Neverland/Zagreus/Scherzo were as great as ppl say!#the anti time arc made me finally love charley (and find her interesting)#words by seaweed#this post just lowkey a subtweet at rtd. no offense to rtd for always thinking hes right without consulting the groups he talks about#in ADDITION to the story being cathartic. Cybermen running gay conversion therapy is a *chefs kiss* concept. I'm so glad it exists#I might delete this post later its making me feel low key vulnerable *ramble ramble*#by the way I don't think religion is mostly or uniquely responsible for homophobia.#I think it's like any bigotry or hatred. plus religion is an easy way to claim that god is on their side for ANY hatred they have#which means religious homophobia is a form of homophobic abuse that's not only mental and emotional but spiritual as well#it hits different when they invoke god. the entity who made you the way you are#finally watched Barbie and cried because even tho the message was simple my parents will never understand it#my dad who thinks patriarchy is exaggerated and my mom who thinks god made women to serve men#I’m in my mid 20s now it’s fine. I feel so alone its fine#im fine :D or I wouldn't be subtweeting RTD :D :D :D#I should sleep I have work in the morning ~time to listen to some eighth doctor and charley in the divergent universe~#why is 2024 busier than 2023#anyway sins of the flesh was kinda surface level ngl but I don't think anything deeper would've worked as well#it got the emotional beats (and it doesn't need to be a complex argument to point out the hypocrisy long as the listener aint brainwashed)#the doctor telling the homophobe his hatred killed his daughter and he'll never be forgiven
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missrosegold · 2 months ago
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Looks like I just lost another close friend to guy who isn't worth a pile of dog shit. 😊
#my best friend no less#i cried about this shit practically all afternoon but i'm all out of tears and now i'm just pissed off.#this shit has been going on for a long ass time but i've finally reached my breaking point with it#i love her#but she is delusional#and it kills me to say that#but that whole “relationship” (if you even want to call it that) is fake. all he cares about is money not her#the worst part is that she knows it too#oh but she “loves him” and “wants to give him one last chance” girl what the fuck?#oh but better yet he dumped her once 2 years ago already and i've hated his punk ass since#never should've gotten back tother after that and i told her as much even back then#all he does is make her cry#not do anything arount their town house#and sit on his ass and watch tv or sleep when he's not working#that's the tame stuff too i could say sooo much worse but i'm actually not trying to air her dirty laundry out her#i'm just pissed off#but suddenly IM the bad guy when tell her i won't support her or this “relationship” when she told me they were getting back together today#this is after i helped her and her parents ans brother move all her stuff out of the town house last Monday and back to her parents place#after she told me they were done for good#but IM the bad guy for bringing up all of fhe reasons listed above and all of the REALLY bad things about the relationship#when i tell her i won't be supporting her any longer and that i'll be walking away if she goes back to him#best part is her family agrees with me and they tell her all the things i say about him and then some#but when i go out on the line and put my heart down on the table for her and all i get back is a text saying:#“i don't really like how you're texting right now so we'll talk about this later.”#girl#i don't know whether or not i want to cry harder or strangle her#i think it's both#so yeah i think i just lost my best friend to a guy who doesn't remotly deserve her and everything kicks rocks rn#it's just like my other friend all over again#why do my friend have such dog shit taste in men
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keeps-ache · 4 months ago
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been telling my siblings 'you would NOT make it in vulcan academy' when they do smth goofy recently and nobody's been able to refute lol
#just me hi#listen here you little idiot... [<- fond]#anyway i've been doing this for months and it brings me much joy hbfhsvh#to me it's just an academy. with vulcans. and they are NOT getting enrolled loll#//so speaking of siblings i've been off and about with my dad more often#which is cool but that means spending a lot more time away from my siblings and ouhhrhrhrhrhrhrhhghhhhhhhhh#[tears in eyes]#my buddies :( Where Are My Buddies :( lmaoo#staring out car windows yearnily bc i want my brother's opinion + dumb joke combo on some random thought i had but he's miles AWAYYYYYYYYYY#i'm home rn but like. Man hfbhsfbvh#//oh man but here was one time one of them used the academy thing on me and i could only sputter. touche motherfunker lolllll#//anyway i am exploding all of them with my mind [<- endearing]#my youngest siblings do art (because they saw me doing it [funkin dies and explodes and cries and stares at a wall forever] lol <3) and#they're ! ! ! ! ? ? ? ?#leo does humanoids + has a more geometric style atm and it's really cool!! he keeps asking me to help him draw hands but he asks me at like#1 a.m. when my brain isn't working practically anymore so it's just me going 'yea and the thumb bone connects to the hip bone. +~Somehow~+#[mystery chimes]' and then he goes off on some sort of random thought and we are derailed forever hgbbfhsh#and ruff is so good at drawing animals it's insane. like have you seen this kid's cats they are Sick ! ! ! i genuinely did a double-take#when i saw her stuff a couple months ago loll#/and then my older siblings are v into video games#which is cool bc if i am ever bored they have like 5000 things that i can suffer on while we all laugh hfbhsfhv#i think i'm still helping test one of apollo's games that he's working on -#he's learning code and all kinds of cool stuff - also he's insanely good at blender like Woauhghsgh. wizard shizz hbfhsvb#+ reed helps him w/ that bc i believe he's the architecture guy lol :) - also it turns out reed n i share a lot of opinions on media and#stuff so that's awesome :D he didn't know what whump was but he liked all the points of it so i tried explaining that to him the best i#could hbshfv o7#+ chess has been trying to convince me to give him + leo a ~mystery~ story to play and i finally caved lmjfhsjf#he's real good at the clues it's going well :3 i am scared for my life HFBVhsfvh#also trying to convince him to play kartrider w/ me again cuz i have leo on it now and we need a 3rd okay-to-decent player in our soon-to-b#posse Loll :33 //i ran out of tag space... ouhhh..... okay then.. ciao ciao toodles :D
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jils-things · 5 months ago
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meow
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sergeantjessi · 7 months ago
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astrxealis · 2 years ago
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venat makes me the saddest
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#i love her soooo much and i love how it is almost purely familial/platonic#i think she deserves all the best for real. she deserves to be happy and free#flow always makes me so sad :((#tbh i said this b4 but enw already hits me a lot as is rn! and esp bcs i understand how. despair is like. yeah#but i have yet to lose a loved one and i'm terrified. absolutely terrified of that (<- kid who cried at the thought of a loved one leaving#even before i was 10 y/o) so i'd love to replay enw then bcs... it'll make it hurt more in a way that Heals. if that makes sense#ffxiv funny lil game and also really good game but also it is... not for the light of heart as well?#enw is so heavy i think? and the dark undertones throughout the whole game are... yeah. yeah.#but i truthfully think with all my my being that it is an experience everyone should try out. once. ffxiv means so much to me.#i think it is beautiful though how we all have that different thing we think everyone should get into!#it speaks of how unique each and every one of us is. and i love who i am in all of the beings in the world#because there is only ever me; and i forgot what i was going to say and also strayed off topic!#anyways i love final fantasy xiv so much and i think there's something really just there about people who have shared the same experiences#which is why it is really important to be with those similar to you! and for me that is especially final fantasy and drakenier#but that doesn't mean all the others around you are less. they are just as much; just in a different manner#<- me maturing from my bitter thoughts a few months ago! i'm still improving though <3#yeah this all was nice to write even if this was so off topic in the end#though it still is related tbh mhm? <3#i am not perfect and i never will be; chasing after something i will never achieve will only lead to further downfall#but it is important to do what we can. be there for ourself. be there for others. love and love and love.#these are all things i've learned through many aspects of life and ffxiv and my growing as a teen really affirmed it for me
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monster-noises · 2 years ago
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Im so happy it's almost your 2 year!! Congratulations on that milestone that is absolutely such a celebration. How have you felt since getting top surgery? Any unexpected and happy benefits you didn't think or expect to be a happy thing before the surgery? 🎃
thank you!!! considering I was waiting in Limbo for 5 years waiting to be contacted by the surgeon I really didn't think this day would come where I just feel Normal having a Body.. So every milestone is a gift and a blessing! Things since surgery have felt..... just so nice. Just.. Peaceful. just nice. y'know? (I mean aside from the Agonies but that has to do with the shambling mass that is the Rest of my life and not my chest) I've always described the way I experience(d, it's not so much a factor in my life anymore) dysphoria was less an acute sensation or thought and more of like... a Vague Schism? like I piloted my body around but I wasn't really there? it's hard to explain.. cause it's the kind of thing you notice more actively after it's Gone than while it's There. T helped a lot, keeps helping a lot, but after top surgery, when I'd finished healing and could just.. live my life Sans Tits I could feel that schism close, and the me in my head and the me in the Meat World finally.. met. And it's just.. really nice. Having a Body. Being your body. it's a good fucking time. leaves a lot of room for other things. I don't think there's been a lot of... surprises? so far.. in terms of what I've found happiness in.. I guess the journey I've been on from being kind of uncomfortable with how my body ended up being shaped after they scooped out Literally Everything to kinda loving it but that's more related to a lightly separate but definitely entangled journey of self discovery (everyone say Thank You Karl) So I guess the most surprising and pleasant thing is just How Much it helped me feel more comfortable in my gender? But really all of it's been great. Very chill, very peaceful, 10/10 no regrets. \(v-v)/
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krysmcscience · 2 months ago
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Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:
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The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.
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Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.
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It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.
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Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄
Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.
also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh
⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️
Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D
Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.
Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:
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'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.
you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH
And, finally:
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lmao this is shit
True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.
Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD
Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D
Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)
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this-love-is-delicate · 5 months ago
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Crying while reading the romance novel at 4am
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booksunet · 10 months ago
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:,) 💚
#ayyy#look what showed up on my tv time rewind#i don't talk a lot about it but this series has a special place in my heart#i don't know what's really being going on with me that all my motivation and excitement to keep up w/ things is slowly melting from me#it's weird#and i don't know if it is bc cas came to an ending (which btw askfbskxkdnch such a good ending 10/10 i cried) and i'm feeling emotions#but i just want to put out somewhere how much it means to me#idk if it was the found family™️ bond that made me like it#or the fandom that made incredible stories and continuations that they wanted to bring to light#but i just really appreciate well everything that this series brought me when i have been basically stuck in my room for the whole of 2023#i think i might finally be able to leave my room in 2024 and i don't know what to expect of this year#but gosh i hope i can find more small gems like this in the world to keep me going#maybe even try to create some of it myself?#*sigh* idk#what i'm trying to say is rottmnt was in the last year to me what pjo was to me when i was in school#and i'm just overall grateful at the experience#anyways onwards to a better year? i guess?#(also uhm no i'm not leaving the turtles behind if that was the vibes i was putting out-#-these bitches are strapped in my backseat and won't leave me alone for a while. i'm just spewing feelings to make sense of where i'm at)#if you read all this then uhm no you didn't but also how are you doing? happy 2024#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#me#booksunet
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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago
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Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)
ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!
College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.
warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI
a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!
edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.
wc: 6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 
Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 
So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 
When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.
Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 
You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.
You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 
Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 
On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 
"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 
You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 
The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 
"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 
~~~
He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 
The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.
As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 
It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 
The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 
Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 
This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.
"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 
You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."
"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 
You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.
"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."
Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 
"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 
"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.
You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."
A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
~~~
You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 
After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 
Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 
You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 
It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 
It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 
Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 
On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 
" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 
What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 
Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 
He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 
All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 
" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 
He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-
" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 
He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 
" Fuck, Miguel…"
He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 
~~~
He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.
A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 
And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.
Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 
You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 
He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 
You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.
After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 
With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 
"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 
You wince."...F-Fine?" 
You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 
You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."
Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 
"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 
Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 
You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 
" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 
"You look… wet." 
"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 
"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 
There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 
Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 
He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 
" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 
It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 
"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."
"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 
"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 
"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."
"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"
"...I'd like that, to be honest."
"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."
"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 
~~~
You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 
You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 
There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 
It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.
Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 
What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 
Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 
So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 
“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"
You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 
All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 
"Yeah?" 
"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 
"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"
There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…
"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 
With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 
"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "
"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"
"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 
"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.
He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 
You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.
"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 
His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 
"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 
You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.
"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 
"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 
"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."
His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.
"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 
He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 
"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 
He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 
"Huh. I guess they do." 
"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"
"Katie." He hums. 
"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 
You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 
"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 
Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 
"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 
"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."
Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 
"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.
Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?
"...and I heard you say my name." 
"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 
"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 
He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"
A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."
"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."
He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 
He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 
It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 
"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."
You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 
He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 
Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 
Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 
"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 
"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 
"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.
He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"
Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"
He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 
You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."
"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 
It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 
"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 
You mumble something begrudgingly.
"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."
Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 
Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."
Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 
He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.
And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 
And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 
"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 
You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 
"Right there, fuck… "
Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 
You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 
"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 
"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 
Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 
"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."
His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."
You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 
"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 
"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."
He turns to you, lazily. 
"I could tutor you, if you'd like."
"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."
_
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