#so you may want to read those first

[daily-crabbys]

mmg,, i might hiatus again,,,

I'd hate to do it, but there's no joy in crab posts as of right now, and also as of a long while ago.

Managing messages and responding to people in replies and being tagged and all the stuff in inbox is. a lot.

I never intended or expected crab blog to get this big, and it feels like such a chore to do at this point. Not that I dont like it, and not that I dont enjoy the fellow crab lovers, but it's certainly overwhelming.

That plus other socials and such that I manage and real life stuff is just. IDK, it's a lot. Usually, if I get to this point, I just drop off, maybe delete the account if I really can't stand it, but I'm definitely not going to do that here.

At the very least, I'm going to empty out the submissions that have been piling up, but after that, I'm not sure. I may not even get through all of those, I've already been relying on those for a long time at this point, and I think that's pretty obvious.

It feels like a hassle to deal with those anyways since most people don't even identify what type of crab it is that they submit, so I have to take the time to find it, which is usually not at all easy. There are so many posts that I've just had to guess what to tag it as because I just don't know, and there's no solid answer that I can find, at least not usually.

Which is also partially my fault, I've never said anything about it before, and I never specified it at an earlier time to make incoming ones less stressful to deal with, but even so I just. I don't know, I don't.

I don't know exactly when it'll happen, but it's the most likely thing to happen from here. I think I'll modify some stuff about how I handle the daily-crabbys blog to make it easier on me when I come back, but I'm not entirely sure what that'll be. I've never managed a successful daily posting account before, I haven't the slightest clue how to make it all easier on me.

Sorry that this has gotten so long, I didn't mean to rant. There's just so much that I feel like I need to say.

This isn't something coming out of nowhere, and it isn't going to be immediate. I've thought about wanting to do this for a while, and I know I did this already not too long ago, but I didn't really change anything for myself, so I'm just burnt out a lot faster.

Sorry again, both for the length of this and the fact that it's going to happen, but I've just got to make things better for myself before I carry on long term. I really just fucked myself over by not doing this the first time, but if I don't do something about it eventually then I'll just end up hating this blog too much to continue.

🦀💜

#not crab posting #heads up that this is quite a long post so in case you may not want to read it all(dont blame you) theres just a few things to know #firstly this isnt a random decision i made. ive thought about it for a while and dont think i was ready to come back in the first place #second is that it will not take place immediately! i dont want submissions to sit for too long so ill empty those out before i disappear #this includes a few that i wouldnt ordinarily post or have never found the right time to post. theyve just gotta go #third is that it is no ones fault. well thats not true. its mine. i didnt make changes i should have the first time i went on hiatus #im suffering severely from that now and have burnt out wayyy too fast. which is again no ones fault but mine #im going to change things to make it easier to handle. i need to if i want to keep this going for a long time which i very much do #i just cant when the thought of posting on here every day makes me so unhappy. im just too overwhelmed #im not sure what the changes will be just yet but they're going to be beneficial to me greatly

[tricksterlatte]

Anyone else think short form social media based on algorithms designed to promote topics that create more engagement instead of more joy, the idea of fast fashion but conveyed through social media, and the fact you can monetize suffering and outrage better than ever has largely resulted in the death spiral of media literacy and the mass emergence of bad faith readings?

#I may be venting a lil but god it blows my mind #fyp is a blessing and a curse because i don't think ppl were ever meant to be subjected to this many ppl at once #god i took a bird site hiatus for weeks and now BARELY check it and it already feels like a hit #oughhhhh #even fandom spaces have hugely incorporated marketing and networking into them bc of cmms and sponsorship and building portfolio #which would be fine tbh if it weren't for the way socmed is designed #now it's like you can't support too many ppl or else you're shadow banned or you have to make yourself palatable and marketable #and websites with threads in which people will only read the first post before qrting because ratios are seen as five minutes of fame #features that permit beating an algorithm are locked behind a paywall that promises you money if you go viral #and what goes viral is usually incendiary content meant for those ratios or trends. whether for or against OP #even in hobbyist spaces the climate has changed so much due to the monetization and marketing and just. ugh #not to mention side accounts dedicated to gossip in this new priv account culture like...idk #if you have to make another account so you can make fun of a friend on main with selected priv friends it just doesn't sit well with me #and not every priv account does this but enough do and it makes me tired #unsolicited hate comments are still as bad as they used to be on ff dot net except now people openly are proud of it more #why do most socmed feel like passive aggressive sticky notes on high school lockers #there is so much more I could say about everything that has left me weary about the internet but I don't know the time or place #and I don't want anyone to think this is about them because it's a general statement. though if you are doing the more inflammatory things. #maybe rethink that. it's not good for anyone else and it's not good for you either #I keep coming back online to check on ppl and see art and I *know* it's draining for my health every time #but I feel a lot better now that i use socmed less overall. and that I try to focus on what makes me happy #it just sucks seeing so many people i care about endure absolutely wild struggles bc people online do not care. #I like rambling in my tags because this is the only place I ramble except my personal journal and to my wife

[tacagen]

OKAY MY NEWFOUND AGENT BISHOP TMNT AUDIENCE. ANY THOUGHTS ON WHY THERE ARE

two of them?????

#or at least why he had time to change his jacket to a coat in the middle of a fucking invasion. #dude's got his priorities when it comes to actual alien threat knocking on earth's door in every iteration huh #anyway my theory: those are 2 diff bishops. one may be a clone. the 1st one references 2012 version more while the 2nd is straight up 03 #so i think there is smth up with that. also 1st one's face is catlike like in ff. and both ff and 12 are good bishops! im onto something! #also the headphones but s4 bishop03 battle armor look also had them i think #anyway the person on rise team who saw an alien invasion story and decided to insert not 1 but 2 bishop cameos in there is a genius. #like i feel this decision on every level. there are not enough xenophobic (or not so) fuckers out there. #i expected his cameo ever since i read the synopsis (tho also on the future part bc ff rent free in my head) and i was Not Disappointed. #you do not want to know the level of insanity i instantly reached when i first saw rise movie and got to the second one. #hell im still not over the fact they gave him WORDS #fucking printing those on a tshirt cause THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE WIN #agent bishop #agent john bishop #tmnt bishop #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt the movie

[aphverse-confessions]

i find people who include fantasy racism, sexism and homophobia in their rewrites for ‘added drama’ and ‘issues’ are extremely unoriginal and lacking creativity. if your go to conflict is always fascism just because you have no creativity to try and come up with anything else besides what you know and is obviously ingrained in your brain, you should sit down and think why your go to awnser is always fascism.

.

#ooookay #so uh #I can understand this sentiment when directed at ppl who have no expierence being discriminated against in a particular way #and still write a story abt that discrimination #like a white person adding fantasy racism to their story #however #people often use fiction as a means of exploring or explaining our world in a way that can be more digestible to the viewer #and gay person creating a fantasy story thay focusses on a world with homophobia and how that impacts those living in it #is not adding it for 'drama' #they are commentating on the state of our world which has homophobia #maybe someone's first way to explore conflict in a story is via bigotry because they have expierenced bigotry so often in their life #they view it as one of the major driving forces in their circumstances or perspective #to belittle writing that depicts real world issues as 'adding drama' shows to me that there is a lack of reading comprehension on your part #if your first instinct when faced with a story that includes an oppressed class being oppressed is 'stop add drama' #I think you need to reevaluate some things #one the number one pieces of writing advice you hear is 'write what you know' #who are u to say someone should be more 'creative' than that #aphmau confessions #aphmau #aphblr #aphverse #fandom angies #angies #instead of being mad maybe consider WHY an author may choose to add those things to a story #maybe u want fiction for escapism and that's why it bothers you #but not everyone goes to fiction for that purpose #sometimes they want to vent issues via a story or explain to someone why smth is a problem while excluding as much bias as possible #hence the fantasy setting and depiction of oppression #🤭

[cervideity]

Are there any FS manga ideas you've had which you haven't really seen anywhere but wish were more common?

RUBS MY HANDS. ok so bc i havent been here that long i havent really seen even a fraction of all the fan content for this thing (although i comb through oldER threads, fanworks, and deviantart fairly often) so i cant say anything on it not existing... plus this is pretty basic

but onw of my fav concepts i dont see utilized too often is pairing off two of the 4/maybe5 guys and putting them in a damn situation by themselves. most of the time , at least the fancontent I see has them all together, by themselves, or paired off like they were in the manga. which is FINE. maybe im just geared different. but what better way to enjoy their characters like its new. what better way to analyze . fuck you scoops up red and vio puts them in the Labrynth with devious creatures. .yaknow?

just for you anon N9BODY ELSE LOOK !! /joke. some very * rushed in the fervour of inspiration * [badly drawn] concepts for a green n shadow dungeon

#i once read a pretty good fic about blue and vio getting separated from the others in a dungeon and they had to fight a dark link. good shit #fandoms so small the person who wrote that may be reading this post.. hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii if so. #hope the she/her shadow doesnt bother ya because it shall CONTINUE TO HAPPEN !!!!!!!!!!! #hashtag girl /ref #i may be a hypocrite bc i dont put out as many of those situations as other just. various drawings. i think but . yeag. usually if i have a #truely Unique n singular thought i try to draw it and then i leave it. or else. the creative flow. desolate. #OH FUCK YOU MAY BE TALKING ABT INTERPS.... IF SO. UH. idk. #pretty adamant on my “vio talking abt being a hero when he betrays shadow is an indication of the inverse'' interp. thats why my first post #of em is named heroic nature. bc its Actually talking about shadow #smiles deviously #also you can ask me to elaborate on any of these anon ... if u want.... believe it or not this is me holding myself back

[grinchwrapsupreme]

One thing Being Human does really well is show the different ugly ways trauma can manifest - anger, sadness, becoming convinced of things that aren't true - and how conflicting traumas can result in actively hostile relationships

#don't click on the tags unless you want to read so so much #being human uk #i was thinking about this a lot especially wrt the first ep of season 2 where george is being SUCH an ass to nina #and it's a great example of like #they are both going through something extremely traumatic #like to the point where they cannot support one another at all #nina's whole perspective of the world has just changed and she may now be a monster #meanwhile george has killed someone - the thing he's feared most since the beginning - and they didn't show it but #presumably he would have woken up covered in herrick's viscera #like those are two insane things to process no matter who you are #and annie and mitchell cannot help them so they're both just lashing out at each other wondering why no one cares #george and nina have to relive the trauma of being infected every month when they change and go through that painful process #mitchell relives the trauma of being turned every time he feeds or sees the victim of a different vampire #all three of them have to be reminded they are monsters and are a danger to everyone around them #including themselves #and annie relives her trauma every goddam day living in that house #and every time she sees owen #whether she realizes it or not #and she tries to remedy this by feeling needed #and that's another thing about the show!! #how all of them show specific responses to trauma #george and nina react with fear and intense anger #mitchell reacts with a stand-in for addiction - seeking substances or trying desperately to avoid those substances #annie reacts with memory loss and the desire to be needed #and all four of them react by trying to have a normal life while being convinced that they can never have one #and so much more!! #the scene in the second episode where tully tries to kill himself and george just walks away? #that is not normal!! #george is so convinced of being a monster that he will behave like a monster #yes he goes back for him but that initial response is so indicative of what the trauma has done to him so early into the show

[elftwink]

hello gay people in my phone have any of you read Winter's Orbit by Everina Maxwell. if the answer is no. can you PLEASE so I have someone to talk to about it

#good idea generator #ITS REALLY GOOD its a sci-fi [maybe space opera?] where space nobility have to enter into a politically strategic marriage #in order to maintain peace between their planets. i could say more but im afraid of spoilers #or rather im afraid ill say something that will spoil it for someone else i went in blind #literally only read it bc it was a sci-fi in my local librarys pride month display #and it was sooooo goodddd i loved it a lot #five stars. cannot understate how much i loved the characters #theres some cool worldbuilding details too but those are def better just experienced #esp since theyre kinda small and not central so telling you them would be overhyping it imo #JUST READ IT. DO YOU WANT TO READ ABT GAY PPL IN SPACE OR NOT #its on overdrive. but idk how overdrive works so i may actually have to return it first LMAO

[steelycunt]

I’m not saying that a lot of Regulus fans are only interested in him because they picture him as a Timothee Chalamet insert and wouldn’t give half a fuck about the character if that fancast didn’t exist but… oh wait that is what I’m saying.

yeah i mean. i definitely think there's something in that lol honestly. as ive said before i never really got the interest in regulus i just couldnt care less about the guy he genuinely has zero canon character but. simultaneously i can see how the little that we do know about him makes him an interesting character and i can see why people enjoy the idea of him as a blank slate that you can superimpose nearly any traits you want on to--treating regulus as essentially an oc gives you lots of room for creation. its for these exact reasons that he is of no interest to me personally, and i really don't like the common conceptualisation of him that has emerged from popular headcanon consensus (especially when it involves stripping his character of all agency and half the things that could arguably make him compelling in order to gloss over the fact that he was a death eater) but thats a matter of opinion i suppose. thats a me problem. its just not my cup of tea.

the timothee chalamet thing irritates me for the same reason the ridiculous instagram model/influencer/celebrity fancasts for most characters irritate me, because one of the ONLY things we know about regulus is that he is 'less handsome than sirius'. like ok why not work with that. especially with a character like him where there is virtually nothing to work with. like please explain to me why you refuse to accept that im genuinely curious. why is that the aspect of his character you are so firmly refuting lol.

all in all, if the character is only likeable or interesting or a convincing love interest if you have to pretend they were actually super conventionally attractive, maybe they're just not that likeable or interesting or well-suited to the character you're trying to pair them off with. its a personal thing again i am just not interested in reading/writing about a cast of characters who are all meticulously tailored to conform to beauty standards i do not respect. the minute u try to convince me all your characters are super hot n yassified it all feels less real to me sorry i care less about them. im bored of hot characters i think all fictional characters should be made to look like normal everyday people and i think everyone should be less afraid of so-called ugliness i triple dog dare u

#the 'you' here is just a general vague you btw it is not directed towards any one person and obviously not you anon we're in agreement #and reading it back i fear i may come off a little more aggressive than i intended so psa this is all my opinion like. do what you want #i am not the final word on this issue or any other. i am just a guy no 1 is obligated to listen to me if they dont want to. except about r #anyway remember talking to liv about the whole regulus thing and how. the personality that has been invented for him just seems like #people were bored of r/s they wanted something like r/s but new so they superimposed remus' personality onto him and then added a #few bits of sirius. and this is all me ranting about my opinion mindlessly now but i think #its reflected in those stupid terrible incorrect quote joke posts and how you see one of them where its remus and sirius and then see the #exact same post remade except remus has been changed to regulus and sirius has been changed to james. like yeah because regulus #is just a carbon copy of remus except if he was goth lol. we've done this one before its the same thing #and absolutely regulus can be done well and absolutely i am not a definitive judge of what is 'doing regulus well' just as no one else is #but i think if u want to do regulus well u have to make him less likeable. like he cant be ur soft loveable fav. girl he was a death eater #same as i think the whole barty / evan / regulus / pandora gang is just people refurbing the marauders. same thing different colour #anyway. i feel about regulus the same way i feel about dorcas or mary or marlene. they are not really characters #they dont have any definitive canon traits and i am not really interested in creating ocs. but other people might love that idea! #which is fine! #whew. love it when i get asks about things im scared to talk about of my own accord like i cant get in trouble if you guys asked me first x #anon #telegram #the brothers black #also girls he is a product of generation after generation of inbreeding. the black family should look like the windsors sirius was an #outlier. #oh also sorry i thought i was done but i want to clarify that i am no way saying you cannot be interested in morally grey characters or #find them compelling. instead what i am trying to say is that pretending a morally grey character actually isnt morally grey #in order to justify the fact that you are interested/fond of/compelled by them is boring and a disservice to your fav. hope that makes sens #within what we do know about regulus there are things that make him GOOD but not really anything that makes him likeable. and so much #of popular headcanon seems to be bestowing a ton of likeable traits upon him in order to redeem him despite there being no canon basis 4 it #like. we know regulus was a death eater 'it wasnt his decision he was forced into it!' we know regulus was less handsome than sirius 'no he #wasnt he was also super hot!' do you see what you're doing. you're losing me.

[sleepless-crows]

What are five of your favourite Grishaverse quotes? Send this ask to 5 of your favourite grishaverse blogs!

aww thank you <3 i got two anons and got tagged by @lily91106 (also we have a grishaverse anon now??? i love that omg thank you for doing this i've always wanted a grishaverse anon)

in no particular order will i be typing them

ALSO, MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ALL THE NOVELS

"Do you really think it's as simple as that? That they would make it that easy?" She shook her head. "They never come at you with hatred. They come at you with pity. Did you learn to read in the Suli caravans? Was it hard growing up in such squalor? They giggle about the dark hair on your arms or say that you look Ravkan like it's some kind of compliment. They don't make it easy to fight them."

- Rule of Wolves

But wasn't that what every girl dreamed? That she'd wake and find herself a princess? Or blessed with magical powers and a grand destiny? Maybe there were people who lived those lives. Maybe this girl was one of them. But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren't chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.

- Crooked Kingdom

Until this moment, Wylan hadn't quite understood how much they meant to him. His father would have sneered at these thugs and thieves, a disgraced soldier, a gambler who couldn't keep out of the red. But they were his first friends, his only friends, and Wylan knew that even if he'd had his pick of a thousand companions, these would have been the people he chose.

- Crooked Kingdom

He needed to tell her... what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn't pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her. That without meaning to, he'd begun to lean on her, to look for her, to need her near. He needed to thank her for his new hat.

- Six of Crows

There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong, and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.

-Six of Crows

But they'd tried. He'd tried. Maybe they could try again.

- Crooked Kingdom

Zoya would never forgive him, but Zoya would keep marching on. With losses and wounds of her own. Zoya would not rest.

Steel is earned, Your Highness, she had said, his ruthless general.

What had he earned? What was he owed? What was hid by right?

He knew what Zoya would say: You are owed nothing.

Steel is earned. Remember who you are.

Bastard, hissed the demon.

I am Nikolai Lantsov. I have no right to my name.

Pretender, howled the dark voice.

I am Nikolai Lantsov. I have no right to my crown.

But each day he might endeavor to earn it. If he dared to continue on with this wound in his heart. If he dared to be the man he was instead of praying to return to the man he'd once been.

Maybe everything the monster said was true. All Nikolai had done or would do for his people might never be enough. A part of him might always remain beyond repair. He might never be a truly noble man or a truly worthy king. In the end, he might be nothing more than a good head of hair and a gift for delusion.

But he knew this much: He would not rest until his country could too.

And he would never, ever turn his back on a wounded man—even if that man was him.

Nikolai Nothing, snarled the demon. Ravka will never be yours.

Perhaps not. But if you loved a thing, the work was never done. Remember who you are.

Nikolai knew. He was a king who had only begun to make mistakes. He was a soldier for whom the war would never be over. He was a bastard left alone in the woods. And he was not afraid to die this day.

He seized the thorn and drove it into his heart.

- King of Scars

Zoya remembered her own mother marching down the aisle of the cathedral to hand her to the rich old man who would be her groom. She remembered the priest standing behind him, ready to consecrate a sham marriage for the sake of a little coin. She remembered the Suli circling her on the cliff top. Daughter, they'd whispered. Daughter.

Zoya looked at the Heartrender, looked at the cells. How many of them were full? How many cells were there in military bases and secret laboratories? Whether she chose her king or her people, she would never be able to save them all. She could hear Genya's voice, ringing in her ears: You push us away, keep us at arm's distance so that you won't mourn us. But you'll mourn us anyway. That's the way love works.

Understanding burned through her like fire from a dragon's mouth, leaving her weightless as ash. She would never be able to save them all. But that didn't mean she was Sabina leading her child to the slaughter.

Daughter. Why had that word frightened her so? She remembered Genya looping her arm through hers, Alina embracing her on the steps of the sanatorium. Nikolai drawing her close in the garden, the peace he'd granted her in that moment.

This is what love does. In the stories, love healed your wounds, fixed what was broken, allowed you to go on. But love wasn't a spell, some kind of benediction to be whispered, a balm or a cure-all. It was a single, fragile thread, which grew stronger through connection, through shared hardship and honored trust. Zoya's mother had been wrong. It wasn't love that had ruined her, it was the death of it. She'd believed that love would do the work of living. She'd let the thread fray and snap.

This is what love does. An old echo, but it wasn't Sabina she heard now. It was Liliyana's voice as she stood fearless in the church, as she risked everything to fight for a child who wasn't her own. This is what love does.

How long had Zoya feared being bound to others? How little had she trusted that thread of connection? That was why she'd shied away frok the gifts the dragon offered. They demanded she open her heart to the world, and she'd turned away, afraid of what she might lose.

Daughter. We see you.

She had failed to keep David safe, but Genya hadn't turned away from her. She'd failed to keep the Darkling from returning, but Alina hadn't damned her for it. Ans Nikolai had offered her a kingdom, he'd offered her the love she'd been seeking the whole of her life, even if she'd been afraid to take it, even if she'd been too much of a coward to look him in the eye and admit it wasn't Ravka's future she sought to preserve, but her own fragile, frightened heart.

Juris had known. Juris had seen it all. Open the door.

Love was on the other side and it was terrifying.

...

You are strong enough to survive the fall.

- Rule of Wolves

#yes i may have typed nikolai and zoya's character development pages but leigh's writing in the kos duology is perfect and amazing and #i love it so much and you should read it #i definitely have forgotten some quotes but those were the first that popped in my head that mean so much to me #and i notice that this is not five but five is the evil number in the grishaverse why would i follow that #anonymous #i want to ask you to dance right there*

[paimonial-rage]

So I kinda want to start my own writing blog but I have like zero followers and idk where to really start? Ur one of the few blogs I look up too a lot! 😭 I just wanna know if u have any advice for a beginner like me?

Aw thank you so much! That’s really kind. ;u; <3 Funny thing about this question! I was kind of talking about this with a friend yesterday. Sorta. The difficult thing with creating is that like… people are like, “Don’t worry about other people! Create for you!” But at the same time, what’s the point in creating if it’s not for others to see? We create because we want to share with others, you know?

My theory on the matter is…. still what those people say. Just write and post your stories. If you create while worrying if people will notice you, you’re going to cage yourself into feeling you need to meet (what you perceive to be) their expectations of you. When it comes to creating, it’s one of those things that you just have to trust the process. When you create what you want to create without mind to others, people WILL notice that. They WILL get attracted to you and what you write. They WILL come to look forward to your posts. You just have to trust that they will.

Do your best not to get too caught up in the amount of notes you get for something. You’ll find that things you’ve tried really hard on will barely get any notes while things you wrote for fun will get a lot. It can get draining at times.

If you are still concerned with not having any followers, one thing that I think really helps is being the reader you want others to be for you. As a writer, there’s nothing more flattering than someone reblogging my stories with tags or sending in asks saying what specifically they liked about my story. Or well, honestly it doesn’t even need to be things they liked. When they simple share their thoughts and what it made them think about, it’s very flattering. And it makes me want to check out their own blogs and follow them back.

It’s scary to start writing, but once you start, you will get people that like your work. And they’ll stay for your work, even if you go weeks on end not writing. Just trust the process, you’ll definitely get there! And when you get that blog up, maybe you could drop me a line so I can check it out too, hm? ovo <3

#oh! make sure to tag your work properly #also this is just my personal opinion but like… #if you have a decent amount of ideas you want to write you should do those first before opening requests #what you write without influence will create a baseline of what readers can expect from you #open up requests too early and… idk #there’s a good chance you’ll receive very self-indulgent requests #ones that you may not feel comfortable or interested in or even qualified to write #make sure to set boundaries #and if you ever find yourself too obsessed over notifications I highly recommend turning them off #it’s helped me a lot #what kills a writer the most is getting too anxious over expectations #remember #you are doing everybody a FAVOR for letting them read your writing #don’t let you trick yourself into thinking you owe readers anything #readers are very simple people #they’re just happy to read something nice #readers never expect gold from you but it’s easy for you to trick yourself into believing they do #they’re just happy when you post #so don’t take your perception of expectations too seriously haha

[gudakko]

wait right i did have another dream

#why do i suddenly remember them only after a few hours #anyway this was from the afternoon nap not the new years sleep that was the bird girl #but yeah i went to my old highschool and usually thats never a good sign in a dream cause that usually means its going to be one of those #stress dreams where im stuck in school for no reason cause i didnt REALLY graduate and have to do it all over #but this time it was different like there was still that lingering feeling at first but then i was just like no im just here to #pick up my diploma im not doing the usual bs #and also it was VASTLY different now like the whole first floor was just a huge starbucks? it had like 5 or 6 counters each with employees #and staff but it was also mainly empty there were only like may 1 or two other people #and i immediately started speaking in english cause yknow and they just assumed i was foreign so they just started speaking to me in the #usual broken italian english and also the way the stuff you could order was displayed SUCKED like you just had a few items listed here and #there and every counter had different listings so you had to walk all over the place to get a good idea but eventually i just asked them #what frappuccinos they had and this guy told me like the 4 different flavors they had but they were all gibberish? like they were just #made up words lmao. so i just picked a random one and he gave me a weird look like are you SURE you want that one? and i was like uh fuck #maybe that other then?? and he approved of the other one so i was like yeah sure and still no idea what flavors they were #eventually i got my order and they didnt even do the name thingy? but i did read something on the cup #cant remember the name but they wrote something interesting i was like huh ok #anyway it fucking sucked it was just. barely a milkshake? no distinguishable taste even if it looked like chocolate and NO whipped cream #like tf. plus it had those boba balls but not the good ones that pop the bad ones i dont like that are sticky #it was a very miserable drink but i didnt wanna complain so i just drank like half of it before leaving lmao

[lieutenant-amuel]

The funny thing is that I remember how much I struggled with the title for the fourth chapter of "Was Born To Lead" (A New Beginning) and was never quite satisfied with it, but now, I realize it does make sense, considering I actually began to write a completely new story with this chapter.

#Was Born To Lead #I make way too many posts about this fic now it deserves its own tag #I mean originally 'Was Born To Lead' was supposed to be a drabble collection about Gabe's past #but the fourth chapter implied there was supposed to be a continuation so I wrote it #and then I wrote an absolutely random Ángel chapter and delved into Valerio's past.... #I mean Valerio was supposed to be important in the orginal concept as well but having his own storyline.... no I didn't expect that #Honestly I'm still not quite sure if I went in the right direction developing my own characters and creating an ongoing storyline #basically having nothing to do with canon and maybe at some points not even looking realistic enough for Gabe's actual backstory #And I'm pretty sure my OCs are one of the reasons for many people not to read it because you know when you read fanfiction #you want to read about the characters you already know and love #And my OCs may be just not interesting enough for that #But I... like what I'm doing? #Honestly looking back I realize that I wouldn't be able to make it drabble collection because we freaking nothing know about Gabe's past #I highlighted all the main CANON aspects in those first three chapters so continuation of it would imply writing headcanon ideas either way #And I made Gabe the actual main character of his story being surrounded by his friends family and other characters #who have their own lives as well #He has his own adventures fitting his personality and attitude #I try to highlight different aspects of his character bringing up some small details like him loving Antonia Agama or being bad at riddles #and more major ones like his conflict with Roberto and his subtle leadership makings #I mean I understand reading about OCs may be a bit annoying especially if you don't like them but there's still enough Gabe #and of the points of this story was to make it multi-layered so if you don't like one thing you may like another #I don't I'm probably too narcissistic and biased towards this fic but I genuinely enjoy working on it #Maybe it would be interesting for more people if I made it as a drabble collection #But I'm glad how it turned out eventually #There's supposed to be 'I know I'm probably' I'm just too lazy to fix it

[partyinthemysterymachine]

setting the 80s floor vase on its side and crawling into it

i just really have to take a moment and say thank you and give my most deepest respect; my humble gratitude; and say it is my utmost honor and privilege that anyone ever clicked on goomt and read even half a chapter, to all who have read on and continue to, THANK YOU, it’s EXTREMELY humbling and i cherish it deeply to the ends of the earth, thank you for sharing your time with me and my story and all i hope and want is that it’s done with enjoyment and that all continue to see where this nonsense goes because i love goomt so much and it just means the world to me that others want to see what happens to our dearest silent hill losers with me. i’m just. everyone. EVERYONE. (yes, even you!! my silent (haha) readers and all!! i see you and THANK YOU!!!) thank you. it is such a wonderful fucking. truly an honor and privilege. thank you for ALL your patience and support and for joining me in the fog and snow, i hope you will travel along with me and the boys for a good long while 🙏🙏🙏🙏🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚❤️❤️❤️❤️💖🙏💖💖💖❤️❤️🙏🙏

#ches writes #goomt #cries. crying so hard so much so often #i've gotten a lot of goomt love lately and i cannot possibly stress how much it means to me and i really just #i want to show my sincere gratitude somehow please understand LOL i'm genuinely. totally floored and humbled and thankful for everyone #everyone again who simply clicks and reads the first chapter; everyone who decided it wasn't their dig but gave goomt a shot #thank you so much THANK you so much for just checking it out. #thank you to everyone who has left kudos and the ones who haven't and are reading and enjoying it. #thank you to everyone who has commented and interacted and felt inspired and shared fanart (!! i'll never get over this holy shit) #thank you i love you ALL it is a fucking. stupid high compliment. that you've been reading. #and that you've chosen to be a part of goomt's - and my - life. i love that you're here. thank you and may you be in health and happiness #im clutching my chest and crying into my sh map blanket. it was expensive and it was worth it #ugliest fucking sobbing forever. when i say everyone i mean fucking EVERYONE: thank you. 🥚🥚🥚💖💖💖💖🥚🥚🥚🥚❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏🙏🙏💖 #(and to those who are also interacting with my other trash in any way or how: thank you. Indulge With Me. >:3c #Heya Neighbor! and Puttin' On The Fritz; and all the other one shots and Narsty on my ao3.... i see u all. i see u. and i LOVE u. #(and u batman narsties reading Arkham Boys Make Do and Stress Relief.. haha yeah.. u like that shit huh <3 NASTIES <3 <3 #old man fucktown is 24/7. thank u for ur time. i'm having a lot of emotions rn. i'm kissing so much))

[oftwodarkmoons]

To cause pain is a disease.

Elena Ferrante, My Brilliant Friend

#Elena Ferrante #My Brilliant Friend #so I’m back on my trying to read this series bullshit #I started it in May 2021 #and flew through the first hundred pages in a few hours #and then money anxiety ate up that month #(and that year if I’m honest). #and I marked where I left off #and have basically been noting my dnfing this book every May since #the kicker is that it's because I was very certain I’d love it and would get to it when I was meant to #and now… #something about it makes me apprehensive #and I don’t know if it's because of that old certainty #I have a niggling thought that maybe it will be one of those books where I get impatient with repetition #or that the translation is wanting #! #so dumb #had to tell all of you

[loganlermanstanaccount]

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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Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

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edit: the full fic xx

#i am very very close to making this a full fic #(implying that this isn't alr basically a full fic lmfao) #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 x reader