#that makes me understand the vision of social media

[rolandkaros]

dont say it enough but tennisblr i love u

[daz4i]

every time hoyo releases a canon silly groupchat interaction i gain 50hp. they mean so much to me

[kingtomura]

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most. 

You had no idea what he was up to. 

Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 

Maybe he’s found someone else. 

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 

To your surprise, he hadn’t. 

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura. 

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw. 

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that. 

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 

But things are always easier said than done. 

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull. 

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 

“Stop walking away from me!” 

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 

“What are you going to do about it?” 

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 

Cat and mouse. 

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.” 

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 

“Tomura…” 

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 

And it’s the truth. 

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

[f0point5]

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist

She’s still bejewelled - Y/N finds out F1 wag pages are once again speculating she is dating her best friend, Max Verstappen

It’s (not) a cruel summer - Y/N and Max enjoy the summer break

August slipped away - Y/N does a Q&A to catch up with her followers after summer break

Burning red- Lando puts his foot in it

Holy ground - Fans discuss their excitement to see Y/N and Max interact at Zandvoort

I’m the one who understands you - A window into Max and Y/N’s home life

It turned into something bigger - Y/N’s comments about her childhood friend, Mick Schumacher, lead to a social media firestorm

They’d say I’d hustled, put in the work - A look at Y/N’s podcast, Dirty Air(time)

Shake it off - Determined to forget her worries, Y/N goes out parting with Max and Lando

They say home is where the heart is - Fans discuss how Y/N and Max love being roommates

(We’re) in the club doing I don’t know what - Fans look back on Max and Y/N’s Club Rat Renaissance

Pauses, then says, (he’s) my best friend - Y/N spends the day in Amsterdam while Max does press at Zandvoort

How evergreen, our group of friends - Snippets of Y/N and Max’s other friends on the grid and beyond

We’re faster and never scared - It’s a dramatic Friday in the Zandvoort paddock

I watch Superman fly away - The drama continues as Y/N and Mick have a run in in the paddock

Long live all the magic he made - Y/N supports Max as he equals the record for most consecutive wins

Remember the footsteps - A look at Y/N and Mick’s lifelong friendship

He has his father’s eyes…his father’s ambition - A look at Y/N’s relationship with Jos

I love your handshake, meeting my father - Fans discuss Jos’s perspective on Y/N, and her relationship with Max

And maybe it was egos swinging - Everyone speculates about the cause and consequences of Y/N and Mick’s falling out

I fell from the pedestal - Y/N becomes the subject of internet trolling after her fall out with Mick becomes public

Don’t know how long it’s gonna take to feel okay - Unable to deal with the stress and trolling, Y/N goes home to Switzerland, cutting off Max

My reputation’s never been worse so - Y/N’s absence sparks concerns amongst those closest to her

If someone comes at us, this time I’m ready - Y/N’s friends publicly support her as the hate continues

You don’t want to know me, I will just let you down

My words shoot to kill when I’m mad - Mick and Y/N finally talk

Something in your eyes says we can beat this - Max has a tough start to an important weekend, but his luck is about to change

(We) saw something the can’t take away - Y/N is there as Max wins at Monza and breaks another record

This is life before you know who you’re gonna be - Netizens discuss Max and Y/N’s enemy era

20 questions, we tell the truth - Y/N catches up with her followers after a hectic couple of weeks, and meets a man in Monaco

On a Wednesday, in a café - Y/N’s podcast with Daniel leads to some interesting revelations

Do you really want to know where I was? - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory as rumours begin to swirl

I make it look oh so easy - Y/N and Max choose different confidants as they both attempt to avoid the elephant in the room

You’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes - It gets harder for Y/N to keep her secret

Slow motion, double vision in rose blush - Y/N gets back in the saddle while Max watches from the sidelines in more ways than one

Carnations you had thought were roses - Two of Y/N’s secrets are revealed

Didn’t it all seem new and exciting - Max leaves Y/N behind in Monaco as she reflects on her date

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time - Y/N heads to Switzerland for a special appointment as her relationship with Max is put under a microscope

I don’t wanna miss you like this - Y/N and Max deal with the distance between them differently

Your finger on my hairpin trigger - Tensions run high as Max has a bad day on track and Y/N gets defensive

Takes one to know one - Y/N’s much needed talk with Elliot is interrupted by an explosive qualifying in Singapore

I want to tell you not to get lost in these petty things - Max’s streak comes to an end and he and Y/N look ahead to Suzuka

Forever going with the flow, but you’re friction - Max asking Y/N to fly out early to Japan leads to tension and Y/N turns to Daniel for advice

I drive down different roads - Fans, and Y/N, speculate about her budding relationship

(They) knew what it was, he is in love - Netizens set out to prove that Max is in love with Y/N

(We) counted days, I counted miles, to see you there - Y/N arrives in Japan and is reunited with Max

Balancing on breaking branches - Max receives an unexpected delivery as Y/N answers questions from the media and her mother

It’s you and me, there’s nothing like this - As Max gets back to business as usual in Suzuka, wag social media does it’s thing

My (baby flies) like a jet stream - Max has a good day on track and Y/N’s Vogue article goes live

I can read you like a magazine - The internet reacts to mentions of Max in Y/N’s Vogue article

He’s passing by, rare as a glimmer of a comet in the sky - Red Bull securing the WCC is overshadowed by the revelation that Max hates podcasts

The lingering question(s) kept me up - Y/N does an Instagram Q&A

I just may like some explanations - Y/N answers more questions

How you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry - Set in 2017, we learn what led to Y/N’s dad being dropped as Max’s sponsor, early in their friendship

People started talking, putting us through our paces - When Y/N is spotted out with Elliot, Instagram, Max, and Lando react

I don’t wanna touch you - Y/N finds herself short of breath on her padel date. Later, she appears on Max’s stream

(I) will never make my parents’ mistakes - Y/N’s dad hears about her dating life, and her mother weighs in

Drinking on a (yacht) with you all over me - Y/N and Max kick of his birthday celebrations with a day on the water, while Elliot changes his tune

I’d pick you up and we’d go back in time - Y/N and Max bring in his birthday somewhere special

We’re gonna be timeless - It’s Max’s birthday, but Y/N isn’t the only one planning surprises

Take the moment and taste it - Max enjoys a birthday boat day with family and friends, and Vic makes an accidental discovery

There’s glitter on the floor after the party - It’s the morning after night before. Max and Vic discuss Y/N’s letter

Movin’ on was always easy for me to do - Y/N and Elliot meet up to talk and Y/N’s friend weighs in. Y/N’s tweets irritate Max

Your eyes look like (being at) home - Y/N goes riding, Lando proposes plans, and Max has plans of his own

No I didn’t hear the news, ‘cause we were somewhere else - Max and Y/N arrive in Doha, but rumours about Max’s Monaco exploits follow them

You heard the rumours from (your friends) - Max attends Media Day while Y/N hangs out with an old friend

‘Cause they don’t know about the night in the hotel - Max’s GQ interview exposes an interesting part of Max and Y/N’s past

I was dancing around, dancing around it - Y/N and Clara celebrate Max’s on track triumphs

(You) stand up, champion tonight - Max becomes a three time world champion

This life is sweeter than fiction - Max wins in Qatar in a physically gruelling race

Life makes love look hard - Back in Monaco, Y/N is seen out with Elliot, and he makes a bold suggestion

Can we always be this close? - Y/N and Max have a chill day at home and while Twitter notice Max made an admission in an interview, Y/N makes an admission to Victoria

Inescapable, I’m not even gonna try - Y/N and Max spend a day at the factory, where both realise they may have something to work on

You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me - Y/N’s podcast with Oscar comes out, on the same day she finally films one with Max. Meanwhile, Max uses the sim in an unconventional way

Yes, I remember what you said last night - Y/N’s plans for COTA baffle Christian, and Y/N learns an unexpected fact about the past

Take out, then take me home - Y/N prepares for Austin, and an interview with Max comes out

Love’s a game, wanna play? - Y/N tries her hand at padel after watching Max compete, and Max steams with Redline

Rosé flowing with your chosen family - Clara and Y/N spend the day together, and Clara becomes determined to finish what she started in 2017

(We are) a flight risk, with a fear of falling - Y/N and Max head to the US

Ain’t it funny, rumours fly - Y/N heads to a Ferrari gala as rumours swirl about Max’s next career move amid reports of infighting at Red Bull

As if I don’t already see (it) - The circus settles in to Texas and Y/N’s dad weighs in on Elliot

Can you see right through me? - Y/N and Elliot make a king and awkward paddock debut

I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night - Y/N sheds light on her dating history while she and Elliot struggle to adjust to life in the paddock

It’s morning now, it’s brighter now - Y/N reaches out to an old friend for support. Meanwhile, Daniel tries to support Max

The moment I could see it - Max takes another win in Austin while Elliot reaches his breaking point

You’ll find the real thing instead - Y/N and Elliot have an honest conversation

In the name of being honest - Bonus part where Y/N answers Instagram questions after the Austin GP

I’m asking you why - More of Y/N’s post Austin Q&A

You’ve got a girl at home and everybody knows that - Y/N and Max are suspects in the wildest paddock rumour yet as they wrap up their trip to Austin

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I’m guarded - Y/N gets brutally honest with Mick as Max plays goalkeeper twice

You saw the truth in me - Max cuts it close before media day as reports surface of security threats in Mexico

They tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused - Max attends a gruelling media day as Y/N deals with the heat of Mexico

Laughing with (your head in my) lap, like you were my closest friend - Everyone has a tough quali day

This is the golden age - Maxico delivers another win, and Y/N celebrates with tequila

(You would never) me darling, but who could stay? - Y/N and Max arrive in Brazil for a short break before the race

No one has to know what we do - Max and Y/N fall off the map and enjoy some private time

I can’t say anything to your face - Max and Y/N continue to leave each other flustered and Max starts press for the Brazilian GP

The way you move is like a full on rainstorm - Max takes pole in difficult conditions and Y/N gets near her breaking point

We were cards sharks, playing games - Max wins the sprint and Y/N wins games of her own

🚨I’ve had to add a second masterlist for all posts after this point. That can be found here 🚨

[heich0e]

Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.

Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.

Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.

But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.

His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.

Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.

Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.

He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.

You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.

"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."

"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."

"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"

Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.

The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.

"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."

Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.

Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.

He turns to you.

"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.

You pause your show again.

"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.

Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.

Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.

Beside him, you don't unpause your show.

When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.

"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Slowly, he turns to look at you.

"Did you just post this?"

He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.

The photo blessedly has left those out.

You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."

Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.

Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.

You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.

His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.

"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.

"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.

Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.

Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.

"You're being weird," you mumble.

"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."

You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.

You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.

You.

Touya purses his lips.

It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.

"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.

You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.

"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.

He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.

If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.

You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.

Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.

Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.

He takes your face in his hand.

"How do you block someone on Instagram?"

[hydrobunny]

'cause he really knows me (so call it what you want)

tags: hurt/comfort, established relationship, argument?, happy ending! 1.1k words

a/n: slightly different style than my previous stuff but it's been a while. fic based on call it what you want.

nagi seishiro isn’t known for being a very public persona.

it’s usually reo who takes that crown; the heir isn’t afraid of posting whatever he has on his mind. his best friend, on the other hand, might as well as not exist for all the presence he has on social media.

you close out of nagi’s blank profile with a sigh.

the teen in question is barely three feet in front of you, headset glued over his ears as some fast-paced first person shooter game blazes on. as if he could hear the sigh, nagi turns around immediately.

“you good?” he asks, dark eyes flicking over your form in scrutiny.

you give him a smile. “fine.”

after a pause, he turns the chair back around, muttering some apology into the headset.

with another exhale, you roll over onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. sometimes you wondered if nagi was purposely ignoring you when you were over, or he was actually just that dense.

for god’s sake, you were in his bed. you had been in it for at least two hours, and he had been on the game for probably three.

you eye the back of his head again. all that time on his computer was going to give him a headphone dent soon enough. hell, if you squinted, you could already see it forming.

in one smooth motion, you roll over once again to step off the bed. “bathroom,” you say, not sure why you’re even bothering.

compared to his LED lit bedroom, the rest of nagi’s household is bright, with large windows littering almost every wall. the afternoon sunset peeks in through slightly closed window blinds, you breeze through the hallway, avoiding making any noise.

you’re not really sure where his parents go all the time. you saw them once, for a slightly awkward dinner, and then never again. either way, he doesn’t seem to mind, so you don’t press the issue. you’re pretty sure he’s spent more time with reo than them anyway.

(deep inside, you wonder if it bothers him. you think it might bother you.)

as you enter the bathroom, you realize that you didn’t even need to go.

so why are you here?

you stare at your reflection through the large mirror, eyes tracing the shape of your facial features slowly. is there a particular reason nagi finds better company in the form of online games? does something not fit his many likes?

you find your hand steadily approaching your mouth, and actively push it down. it’s taken you long enough to stop your anxious habit of biting your nails down to the quick, and you’re not excited to start that again.

instead, you go for something safer: turning on the sink and absolutely dousing your face. the coldness helps ground you, helps you realize that you probably should take the hint and just leave.

your phone’s in your hand before you realize, some dark emotion taking over to write a message to your boyfriend.

going home. ill text you tomorrow.

you’ve made a decision. and honestly, you think nagi’s made one too. you doubt he’ll even see this message- or even notice you’re gone- for at least an hour.

it still takes you two minutes to leave the bathroom.

the sound of your steps almost echoes in the large house. your vision blurs with every beat of your heart, and you know that you’re simply being stupid.

crying did not act as a viable solution. crying fixed none of your problems.

your fingers clasp over the door handle-

and there is a hand on your shoulder, bringing you to an abrupt stop.

“hey,” nagi’s familiar voice says. “why are you leaving?”

you turn. and you can spot the exact moment nagi realizes you are crying. his usually tired eyes widen to an extreme, then he’s stepping backward, taking you with him.

“y/n, what's wrong?” he asks. “did something happen?”

so the sobs start coming faster, for you realize he still doesn't understand- he pulls you into his embrace, and your cries become muffled by his soft hoodie. you can tell he’s trying to awkwardly console you from the rhythmic pats on the back.

when you finally manage to get out your words, he immediately freezes.

“sei- sei, it’s you.”

nagi gently pulls you away from his chest. he stares down at you with uncomprehending eyes, still so heartbreakingly concerned.

“it's me?”

those two words get your own tirade flowing.

“i don’t know if you know me anymore. i don't know if you still want me anymore,” you inhale, guttural. “i look at us and wonder if you would notice if i wasn't there. i look at us and don’t even see a couple. i- i think you might be better if i wasn’t here.”

there’s a beat of silence. he swallows.

“i would.” he says softly.

you meet his gaze.

“i would notice if you were gone.” nagi continues. you think he’s never been more ready to talk in his entire life. “y/n, i would notice- i can’t stop noticing you.”

“i don’t say it enough. i know. but i also know that you’ve changed your perfume lately. i know that you’ve been feeding the stray cat in your neighborhood. that you’ve been thinking about going to the beach. that you want another ear piercing. that you’ve started another save in my game.”

you blink rapidly.

“i know i don't sometimes act like it. but i’m listening, y/n. and i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i don’t tell you i love you. because i do. i love you.”

your mouth is hanging open, all tears stopped from sheer surprise. nagi stares at you, gaze searching.

you nod. it’s all he needs.

and so his entire body relaxes into you, and it’s just ironic enough to get you laughing. (and crying, again.)

“i love you too,” you manage out. “i love you too- and i’m sorry i made you leave your game, and i named the cat melon, and-”

nagi snorts into your shoulder.

there’s no more words to be said after that. you're both too busy laughing at each other, hands tangling in the other's hair.

it probably seemed a little strange to other people, having a boyfriend that didn't act like he was a boyfriend to the online world. one that didn't seem to mind long silences. maybe it did bother you, in the smallest sense there was.

but honestly, in moments like these, you were willing to let it go.

because in this moment, seishiro nagi was your boyfriend/lover/something. it didn't matter that he didn’t shout it from the rooptops, didn't matter that no one could put a label on it.

he was here. and he saw you. and that was all you needed.

[sxorpiomooon]

Who from your past is still thinking about you? A pac reading

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Pile 1-

For most of you these are the people that you've left behind physically as in these are people from your hometown and this is very cute all the visions that I'm having and the cards that I'm seeing they all miss you very much. I think they think that you are making your family proud or there's something about building your own legacy too i heard "go kylie go" and "build your own legacy" these are all the people that you've had to leave in order to go make your dreams come true and they understand it I keep hearing that one tiktok audio that goes "i know these will all be stories someday" and dorothea is playing in my head. Aw they really do love you and miss you "just know that you can always come back to us". Very cute

Pile 2-

They really hate your ass the first card I pulled and I started cheering and shit bc these are the cards that I'm looking forward to pull lmao. They really were pissed you truly pissed them off and I think the funniest part is you weren't even trying to do so but it just happened. I think these might be connections that you guys tried to rebond or get connected to again but didn't work out or they are going to try to reach out to you asking for forgiveness. OH MY GOD I THINK FOR SOME OF YOU ITS YOUR EX I HEARD SITUATIONSHIP OR SOMETHING AND THEY ARE GONNA COME BACK. It's honestly up to you but the cards are very straightforward in telling me that they will not follow through with whatever they are going to say. This person is jus lazy tbh.

Pile 3-

This is a friend that you drifted apart from not over some petty drama or fued but you both just got busy. They still check up on you tho I see via social media checking your posts asking mutual friends for updates this is a female friendship this person might have been someone you went to school with or someone you saw on a daily to daily basis and then went out of touch with. This sort of reminds me of that nana audio and I think they'd love to meet you again haha

[ghostlyferrettarot]

✨️PICK A PICTURE: ✨️🎀🩷What would make you famous?✨️🎀🩷

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

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🩷Masterlist🩷

🩵Pile 1: The Fool, 7 of Pentacles and Ace of Cups.

Hi pile 1! I feel an emphatic and understanding aura from you right away. You are someone who is humanitarian, who wants to change the world for the better; you believe in fairness and equality. Your emphatic nature is what can make you known; you deserve to be hear by other's, i feel like you may have really unique ideas that can change a lot of other's perspectives for a greater good.

You are good with words and clever, use this communicative charisma to reach other's pile 1! You could achieve a lot by sharing your voice and your ideas, this could be through art, politics, social media, etc.

You have the capacity to built a community that will feel represented by your ideas and thoughts, your own "tribe". So don't be afraid to speak your mind and share a part of yourself with the world 🩵

🌟Song:

🩷Pile 2: The Empress, 4 of Wands and Queen of Wands.

Hi pile 2! You are really charming and charismatic, this could open a lot of doors for you! Something like acting, social media or related to put yourself in public is really prominent for this pile.

I see you working with others and connecting through your talents with many, "collaborations" is what i heard. You could also really like the arts, for some i see fashion, directing, styling, etc. Creating your own brand from scratch; you are most definitely meant to create something my pile 2, "you are not the muse, you are the creator" its also what i heard!

I feel like you already know what this is; this project could have been in your mind for sometime now. Your guides want you to know that you can do it, they have your back and you are beyond talented and capable to do that thing that lights up your heart💕

🌟Song:

🧡Pile 3: The Magician, 4 of Cups and 10 od Cups.

Hi pile 3! You are someone really unique, you have a different perspective that other's, and this is your strenght pile 3.

I sense a lot of artistic energy from you; you could be painters, poets, writes, illustrators, dancer, etc. You unique vision and capacity to put this into the 3D will get you far. Although not everyone may understand your craft and art, be sure that what you do is especial and you will find those who will cherish what you do!

Don't listen to what other's think and make sure to perfect your skills, focus in what you want to achieve and set your own goals; even if other's don't get it, you are the Magician and you have the ability to manifest your dream career pile 3! Be sure to shine for your true colors, you don't need anyone but yourself and you don't have to prove anything to anyone 🫧

🌟Song:

💖Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 💖

[algae-tm]

AGORA HILLS

Daniel Ricciardo x rapper!Reader SMAU

Warnings : SUGGESTIVE content!! Reader and Daniel being horny for eachother on main

face claim : megan thee stallion

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

INSTAGRAM

danielricciardo just posted

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danielricciardo : Locked in. It’s race week

view all comments

user7 : praying for a dr3 podium

— user5 : lmao you’ll need something stronger than prayer

user6 : can’t believe mother is dating this loser

youruser : whore

— user9 : 😅😨

youruser : I’m sorry I wasn’t aware I was running a brothel

youruser : who let you out of your cage long enough for you to post this

— user7 : girl pls ✋🏿 😭

youruser : who you trying to impress???? 😨😅

— danielricciardo : I’m sorry bookie, what can I do to make it up to you?

— youruser : you know what 😼🤭

— danielricciardo : on my way!

— landonorris : there are children on here!!!

— youruser : log off then norizz

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youruser : THANK UUU SO MUCH LONDON! Always a pleasure performing for you, truly one of the best crowds! Now if you’ll excuse me my man is waiting for me in our hotel room with nothing but edible underwear on 🤤

view all comments

lewishamilton : an amazing show as always y/n! But was that last part really necessary?

— youruser : yes

user7 : your free speech… hand it over!!!

user21 : how she’s so down bad over a man well past his prime i can’t understand 🤷🏼‍♀️

— youruser : PAST HIS PRIME!???log off NEOWWW

— user32 : I fear she’s dickmatised 😔

user45 : love that they’re still in the honeymoon phase

— user47 : FR!! I need all their secrets! after almost 3 years and they’re still so in love with each other

danielricciardo : AWOOGA

danielricciardo : woof woof bark bark

— oscarpiastri : 😨😨

danielricciardo : I ate the underwear 3 songs ago

— youruser : we can’t drive any faster 😭

TWITTER

MESSAGES

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youruser just posted

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youruser : I see your “Danny Ric is a loser who doesn’t deserve y/n” and raise you “LOOK AT HIM, LOOK AT MY MAN, LOOK AT HIS BIG GORGEOUS, RIDEABLE NOSE, AND HIS TATTED THIGHS AND HIM IN A SUIT!!! RATTLING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!! I NEED HIM I NEED HIM I NEED HIM, GOD FORGIVE ME FOR EVERYTHING IM GOING TO DO TO THIS MAN WHEN I GET HOME FROM THIS DINNER, THE SLOPPIEST TOP THATS EVER GUNNA SLOP IS COMING HIS WAY!” oh btw Agora Hills out like rn! view all comments

maxverstappen1 : oh… uhm okay. NURSE SHES OUT AGAIN

— youruser : don’t be jealous cause I’m doing your man on the daily

— maxverstappen1 : 😨

— user65 : lmao y/n stays traumatising these drivers

landonorris : listened to the song! Great! Cool! Cool cool cool. Didn’t need to know all that but really good I guess

user70 : you know I’m starting to see the vision

lewishamilton : y/n… is this why youre on the phone rn?

— youruser : sorry wrong number

— lewishamilton : this is social media

— youruser : no habla ingles!!

user1 : not the random picture of you on the second slide

— user3 : that’s what I’m saying 😭 like is this not an appreciation post for your man?

— youruser : god forbid a woman look hot and post it! need to show you guys he’s taken by a bad bitch!

danielricciardo : forever grateful you chose me to spend life with 💞

— youruser : oh… we not being horny rn?

— danielricciardo : my draws are off rn

— lewishamilton : OH this is why y/n just sprinted out of the room

— youruser : forever grateful you chose to spend life with me too 💙💙

— user47 : she sends him blue hearts??!????? Is it for visa cashapp paypal venmo el matador racing bulls

— user76 : girl 😭 you good???!

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danielricciardo just posted

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danielricciardo : I wanna tie the knot. I wanna show you off

view all comments

youruser : DANIEL RICCIARDO, propose to me for real goddamit!! You coward

— danielricciardo : working on it baby

— youruser : ooooo I need you so bad rn

user56 : sooo only fans when

— danielricciardo : my eyes only sorry

user78 : y’all are nasty

— user67 : in the best way!

user81 : sending you lot my therapy bill

lewishamilton : I love y’all but don’t you ever get tired

— danielricciardo : yeah she tires me out all the time

— youruser : yeah I do baby!!

youruser : my man

— danielricciardo : my woman

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

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@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[hertenskylarks]

More 2 Cents on S3

So, I know there’s already a lot of talk going around. Here’s my 2 cents. 

In light of the recent news, I keep hearing a lot of “Oh, I hope the third season doesn’t get canceled,” and “Oh, I hope it does. Fuck Gaiman,” and “Oh, what about Terry’s vision? What about the fans? What about closure?”

I have absolutely zero control as to whether or not season 3 is made. Many arguments for and against it have already been made. I don't want to beat a dead horse, but I will offer this perspective from my own personal experience. 

I’m a swing dancer, and my rapist was my teacher and one of the first people who ever taught me how to dance. One of the things that made me hesitant to come forward was that he was one of the most likable characters in my scene. He was the funny, goofy guy who wore funky printed shirts, he was sooo nice, he couldn’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

Seeing people praise him, hearing people talk about how great he is when I knew what he did to me… It drove me absolutely mad. I just wanted to shake people and say, “No, you don’t understand! You don’t understand who he is!” But I felt like I just couldn't. I felt his reputation was too iron-clad to say anything.

Coming forward was one of the scariest things I ever did because I was so sure people either wouldn't believe me or wouldn't care. And, as predicted, that was the case for some. You can only imagine how I felt when someone I used to call my friend went on to have him officiate her wedding. You can only imagine how I felt when the response from the organizers of the dance scene was to ask me to avoid mentioning Y-Town Swing in social media posts (Oops) to protect their reputation. You can only imagine how I felt when they continued to have him as a teacher, or when they updated their safe space policy to say they are not responsible for anything that happens “outside a Y-Town swing event.” 

Oh, so if he raped me in the bathroom at the event instead it would have made a difference? Right, sorry, didn't realize the location or a rape mattered that much.

Anyway…

This was all in the confines of a small dance scene, in a small city, in a very niche hobby. Now, imagine how it must feel when your rapist and abuser is a fucking best selling author, praised as this ally to women and LGBT people, he’s the quirky guy who has a Tumblr and actually responds to his fans and he’s so cool, he’s one of us, he can’t possibly be a rapist, right? Right?

I can only imagine how fucking mad it drove his victims to know who he really is and see him put on such a high pedestal. 

So, however this all unfolds, I will say this. The people I care about most are the victims. I say this as someone who loved and still loves Good Omens, I say this as someone who was torn up about the final 15, as someone who rejoiced when S3 was originally announced, before all the allegations came to light. I care about the victims. 

But what about the fans? Listen, it’s a fucking TV show. Do you really mean to tell me the ending of a fictional fucking story is more important than the very real people he’s hurt? Not having an ending to your favorite show does not hold a candle to the trauma of being sexually assaulted. There’s no comparison. Not in the same ballpark. Not even in the same galaxy. 

But what about Terry?

Terry is dead and in his grave. I am sorry to say this, but whether his vision comes to life or not, he will never be the wiser. It makes no difference to him. If I could wave my magic wand and have Terry alive and well and Gaiman dead and in his grave, believe me, I definitely would, but that is not the hand we were dealt. 

So please, all I ask is this. Before you go spouting shit like, “I hope we don’t lose S3,” or “I just need to know how it ends,” put yourself in their shoes for just a second.

Imagine you are Claire, or Scarlett, or any of his other victims. Imagine you are sexually assaulted by someone whom the world just puts on a pedestal. You have to sit there and listen to him get praised as being “such a great ally to women and minorities” and “he’s one of us,” and “he’s so brilliant. He’s so cool. He really listens to his fans. Look at this quote of his I got tattooed on my body.” And for years you just sit there and take it, because you’re so fucking afraid that no one will believe you if you come forward, you’re told your story “isn’t enough,” you watch him get richer and richer while you’re stuck with the therapy bill for everyting this “great ally of women” did to you. 

Now imagine that you finally come forward. You finally muster up the will to speak your truth, and tell people what he did to you, and you find that you’re not the only person he’s hurt. The world is finally hearing your story and learning what a manipulative monster he is. 

And now, I want you to think very carefully about what it means if we still get S3. 

S3 means press tours. It means more reviews praising him as a genius. It means certain people being contractually obligated to say nice things about him, or at the very least, not say negative things about him. It means, once again, seeing his fucking horse face or his name everywhere, on Amazon, on billboards, on busses, on posters, in adverts. Only now, it's AFTER the world heard your side of the story.

Just imagine how that would feel. 

So, if it wasn't obvious by now, my stance on S3 is… I don't really want it to happen. Not out of spite or some deep seated hatred for Gaiman (although, ya know, fuck that guy) but out of consideration for the people he's hurt, as someone who knows exactly how it feels to see the person who hurt you get put on a pedestal. 

I understand that production is paused and people think he may be getting removed from the project. I'm not going to comment on that because "paused” can mean a lot of things and there's so much we don't know yet.

There will be other shows. 

There will be shows that DO have satisfying endings. 

Media and shows can be replaced. 

But there is no such thing as being un-raped. 

[richarlotte]

365 Days from Rot to Hot (Pt. 3).

Find your colors. You could use AI, take a trip to Lowe’s (this is one of the things I did), or actually use a service, but sorting out what colors suit you is essential. A major part of building my blend and creating my personal style was based around finding things that suited me, and I do believe that you shouldn’t start buying clothes or putting a look together unless you know your undertone, have a grasp of your colors and your body type, understand your seasons, and are prepared to experiment with what you’ve learned. Finding your colors should be the first step you take, as it will make the process of creating looks easier and give you a general idea of what things will look good on you.

Search for inspiration and don’t hold yourself back. It’s your life; it’s your fashion; it’s your style. You can be as basic or as eccentric as you want. If you think Kendall Jenner and Hailey Bieber are goddesses, then take inspiration from them. If you’re a budding Betsey Johnson or a Lisa Frank and want to design your own clothes and make them even brighter, then do that. If you’re obsessed with Bella Hadid’s western era and want to chase your own wild horses, then go ahead. I’d recommend doing what I did and creating a number of Pinterest boards and using Instagram to create polyvore-like style and vision boards.

Set a reasonable budget and stick with it. You cannot spend more than you have, and it’s not wise to get into debt pursuing a lifestyle that you know you can’t afford in the long run. Create a reasonable budget and work with it; don’t try to work around it. I found myself shopping from Walmart, Meijer, Gap, and J. Crew Factory and looking for sales before I bought anything. Don’t jump into the process and waste your money buying everything straight off the racks; utilize stores like TJ Maxx, look for sales, use what you already have, and really make an effort to make your dollar stretch. Another part of working with your budget is not blowing it by shopping at Shein; if you buy something and then have to throw it out and rebuy it after 5 wears, you’re not actually getting any bang for your buck.

Utilize Pinterest and social media to find women that look like you. An integral part of creating your own blend and finding what works for you is seeing it on other women. I followed a number of women that looked like me and didn’t look like me, lived in areas of the world I found fascinating, and had tastes that I wouldn’t describe as mainstream. I used a number of different languages to search for the trends that I liked; I used Twitter and Instagram to look at hashtags; and I took total advantage of the resources I was able to access. I used magazines, went through online archives, and spent time building my ideal image. Was it perfect? No, but as time passed, it became more and more helpful, and it eventually became the Pinterest board that I use now and my main vision board.

Tie it all together and see how things work. I had to experiment with so many different looks, delete and recreate so many vision boards, and try things for myself. Am I a hairstylist? No, but I’m also not a billionaire, so I had to learn how to style my wigs to see what suited me. I went to stores to try things on, experimented with IG to see if certain pieces of jewelry would suit me, and had the time of my life during my experimentation phase. Collecting online images isn’t enough, and it’s very hard to actually get a grasp of what you like if you’re doing everything online. Try your lookout, put things together, adjust it as you please, and tie your loose ends up.

Pt. 4 to come next.

[4rk4n4]

Disability has been discussed heavily in Arcane as it is a reoccurring theme within the show, but I do think people forget that Silco is disabled and/or they have difficulty describing his disability despite it being very obvious. So, I feel like talking about this a little bit more here.

I don’t have the same disability as him, so feel free to correct me on vocabulary but from my understanding facial differences refer to a broad category that includes facial disfigurements which can be acquired through injury to the face. I do have experience with nerve damage, though, which I will talk about a little bit below.

Facial difference and disfigurement is considered a disability. I know you’re probably used to seeing villains with facial disfigurements. However, it is common for facial disfigurements to be associated with villains because real people with facial disfigurements are often ostracized from society.

It is difficult for them to find work, housing, relationships, etc. because of how we as a society position people with facial differences and disfigurements. On a social level, this disables them from participating fully in society. On a physical level, a person with a facial difference or disfigurement may not be able to utilize all physical senses though this varies greatly from person to person. As a whole, though, people with facial differences and disfigurements are socially and physically disabled.

The fact that villains represent the majority of on-screen representation for facial disfigurements is a problem. Any media could intentionally or unintentionally push those negative associations onto people with that disability. I think it’s fair to believe the same issue arises with Silco.

However, I do think Silco is a special case in that his facial disfigurement is not just a lazy trope, but one that is given a narrative explanation, though it’s still possible for the audience to consciously or subconsciously associate his facial disfigurement with his villainy. It’s in part why I appreciate that he still has a facial disfigurement in the alternate timeline, because Silco is clearly not a villain in that timeline.

Still, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that young Silco, who did not have a facial disfigurement, garnered more sympathy from the Arcane fandom when he was introduced on screen. People began to humanize him more. From my understanding, the fan content jumped in quantity. People began to associate his facial disfigurement less with his villainy and more with his trauma. This is the social impact on disability I’m talking about.

There’s also in-universe evidence that Silco struggles socially because of his facial disfigurement. Silco tries to cover up his scars with makeup. For people with facial disfigurements, makeup is not just an aesthetic choice. It could make a difference in how they are perceived or treated. Few people have seen Silco without makeup. This is not just vanity on his part. Some have fairly pointed out this might help with his trauma, but it may also be necessary for him socially.

As for the physical aspect of disability, we know the river water poisoned his blood, damaged his nerves, and infected his wounded eye. He says so. He does not cover up his eye with a patch nor remove his eye which suggests he may still be able to use it, but he may have limited vision in that eye. He is dependent on a dangerous drug to treat his condition. Medical dependency on a drug to survive and thrive is a sign of disability.

The infection and nerve damage also impacts his senses. Nerve damage limits movement in his face. It’s debatable how much he can feel on the scarred part of his face. It’s also pure speculation, but it’s possible that without medical treatments the infection could spread and damage nerves throughout his body. That’s why his dependency on Shimmer can’t be divorced from his disability.

We don’t know for certain what his experience with chronic pain is like, but I know what nerve pain can feel like and it can feel like your nerves are burning, freezing, or like “tv static.” We know that the injections don’t necessarily feel good, but he still does them which suggests the consequences of not doing them could be more painful. Chronic pain is a sign of disability.

Silco is not an open book in addition to being The Villain, though, so I think the audience struggles to understand what he is thinking or feeling and that extends to whether or not they view him as disabled. It’s just really interesting that he has a very obvious disability that people often don’t recognize at all. This doesn’t even get into the PTSD he likely suffers from, but that could be disabling too.

[autisticfaun420]

My life with level 2 (part 1)

I'm making this post to share some things about my life and give an idea about what my support needs are

1. Every morning I wake up sealed in my cubby bed, an enclosed bed that keep me trapped inside so I dont wander and hurt myself or roll out and have a meltdown (common things that happen with me and regular beds). It's also soft so I don't potentially bang my head against something hard. you're probably wondering well how do I go to the bathroom at night. That brings me to my next point.

2. Every morning after opening up my cubby bed either my mom, dad, caregiver, or occasional close friend takes me to my changing station in my room and begins to change my diaper. Thats right I was NEVER able to potty train and due to EXTREME sensory issues I am unable to change myself. This means I need constant super vision as I always need someone to change me, also calm me down if meltdown, etc. I simply have no way to tell I need to go, 1 or 2, till its much too late. So yeah diapers are an all day thing not just at night.

3. I'm older then 20 and my parents are l now my legal guardians for life, and if they can't do it I have friends that will step up. I'm not sure exactly what this means legally but I take it to mean Im basically still a kid to them on like, every level. They respect my intelligence but they still set the rules. One that always kind of gets people mad but then they understand is the fact that I have child safety internet settings on my tablet and phone, I can't access most social media websites and I'm not alliowed YouTube only YouTube Kids. This is because my parents and close friends agree that these teenage boys from a nearby town were trying to make me an "lol cow", basicallly a target for online harassment and bullying and trolling me because I was special needs and active on social media. Tumblr with my parents having the username and password and log ins and they check it every day is all I get. My friends and parents show me things from TikTok and Youtube that they think i'll like so I don't miss out. Oh yeah and I would binge watch horror and terror content on youtube, something that a lot of autistic people do apparently, however I mentally can't handle it. I wake up and freak out and hit myself all night and lose sleep for a week and end up in a mental hospital cause I'm hurting myself and not sleeping. Not fun... at all. I had unrestricted internet access as a teenager and I'm glad that part of my life is over. My parents do however let me eat cannabis edibles every day so its not like they're over protective, just protective in the way I need.

4. My parents are my emotional coregulators and I rely on them heavily, a lot of the time just to know how I'm feeling. I break down emotionally frequently and if my parents or a select few of my friends aren't there to cuddle me and rub my back the right way, I FREAK out and start hitting myself cause my brain is a bit nutty I guess. I'm needy with those I love to a rediculous degree. I'm a lot better, still not great, at self soothing. Self soothing is an oxymoron for me. I kinda need to be with somebody to be told to calm down, encouraged to come out my shell, praised when I do something good, and just having a hand to hold. My mom is rubbing my back encouraging me to write this out like I said I wanted to do.

5. I need to stim, constantly. I'm always rocking, fidget toy and plushie in hand chewing on my chewing laynyard, you get the idea. I also need audio and visual stims which I get in the form of watching bright colorful little kid shows on my tablet like Blues Clues and Daniel Tiger. I think this is why people don't think I'm smart but its just who I am and what my needs are.

I think this is a good starting point, I'll make a part 2 later.

[theblackfemininesociety]

This Is Why I Deleted My Personal Social Media Accounts.

"Do not wait for the perfect moment. Take the moment and make it perfect. Trust your journey, invest in the end game."

Hi Besties,

For as long as I can remember, my life has been a journey - a quest for becoming the best woman I can be. It's been a winding path, with many detours and pit-stops along the way, but each step has brought me closer to understanding myself, my worth, and my purpose in the world. 

I started The Black Feminine Society as a platform to share my journey and to inspire others on their own. This platform has grown from a humble blog to a thriving community, a lighthouse for those seeking to embrace their femininity and navigate through life's challenges with grace and strength.

The Black Feminine Society is more than just a blog. It serves as a souce of inspiration and hope, an oasis of positivity, a safe haven for black women on their feminine journey. It's a space where we can let our guards down, lean into our feminine energy, and support each other through our triumphs and our trials.

So, why did I delete my personal social media accounts?

Simply put, it was a move towards growth, towards focus, and towards authenticity.

In this stage of my life, my brand and my mission have taken on a new level of importance. I am in my late 20s, and I firmly believe that God has given me a vision for this platform. I am at a point where I need to be fully present, fully devoted, and fully committed to bringing this vision to life.

Deleting my personal social media accounts was a necessary step in this journey. It has allowed me to focus on what truly matters - creating content that uplifts, inspires, and motivates. It has enabled me to delve deeper into my own personal growth and to work on becoming the best version of myself.

Just as I encourage you all to level up, I too am constantly striving to elevate myself. I have goals to achieve and habits to form that require my undivided attention. From hitting the gym to working on my self-confidence, I am committed to making life-altering changes.

My hope is that my journey inspires you. That it encourages you to take that leap of faith, to do the things you've been putting off, and to truly evaluate your life. I urge you to take this year to focus on you. To nurture yourself, to love yourself, and to grow into the best version of yourself.

With Love,

Leah

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[neyafromfrance95]

I understand some might be frustrated but I for one think that what the showrunners are doing with Sauron x Galadriel in S2 is absolutely insane, and I never thought they would actually go there? The yearning, the heartbreak, the angst? Am I alone in this? Everyone knows this is doomship, and the only possible solace is for Sauron and Galadriel to be reunited in Valinor/Aman at the end of it all (literally). But we are being served, nonetheless.

you definitely aren't alone, anon! well, at least i'm with you!

i'm loving the slow-burn, the gradual build-up to their reunion. i believe that keeping them apart for an entire season while having them be obsessed with each other is going to make for an extremely explosive climax.

i understand the frustration, but i wish we did not immediately jump to negativity when we don't get an instant gratification fix, that's what the fanfics are for after all!

what we are getting with sauron x galadriel isn't the "crumbs", it is a very intentional and significant build-up.

we witness galadriel, betrayed and motivated by revenge, be shaken to her core by her taboo feelings for sauron. this dichotomy needs to seep in well.

we need to see sauron for a cold master manipulator that he is with others and then see how his facade falls when it comes to galadriel. we see him call her in her vision, i believe he even sends her the vision of his whereabouts in eregion as well, we see him think of her longingly just bc someone's hair reminded him of her. he is obsessed.

now, it all does come down to the ending. this structure of development is going to work only if they aren't as separated in s3 anymore.

also, fandoms are fun spaces to share your excitement with, but smtms they tend to be toxic and confusing. i have a much better experience when i decide by myself if i liked an ep or not after watching it instead of jumping to social media to tell me if it was good. for example, you have the lorebros with their misogyny screaming about how galadriel should be a docile decent wife/mother instead of fighting and having romance with sauron when 1) celeborn is missing/celebrian isn't born 2) galadriel has always been fighting sauron in lotr even when she had a family. these "complaints" never entered my mind before going on social media for trop fandom stuff, and they do nothing except for ruin my excitement, tbh. so just pay less attention to the useless discourses that have nothing to do with anything that's actually going on in the show.

and yeah, the valinor reunion idea is interesting bc i keep thinking how galadriel takes nenya to valinor and how now trop entirely recontextualizes this detail! bc for galadriel, nenya intrinsically represents her connection to sauron!

my point is, let's enjoy the slow-burn and in the meantime let's write those galadriel x sauron reunion in valinor aus!

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserve in our archive

By Julia Doubleday

(About a lot more than covid, but talks a lot about it later on)

This week, The Guardian reported that the 1.5 degree climate target agreed upon at the 2015 Paris talks is now “deader than a doornail.”

This will come as little surprise to the public, which has watched as loathsome politician after grinning salesman after equivocating lawyer has steered us ever closer to catastrophe as years and promises fade.

Decades ago, upwardly mobile people in the West were living in a happy delusion. As the Greed-is-good 80s gave way to the Dotcom 90s, the ruling class sold their vision of the future: a rising tide lifts all boats. More money for me means more money for all. Let’s all get rich and happy.

Globalization, neoliberalism, and capitalism, the three ingredients of prosperity everywhere, for everyone, forever. Cut regulations, let businesses thrive, let the markets reign. National borders should constrain people, not capital. In 1991, the USSR collapsed. In 1992, Francis Fukuyama published The End of History. As big business thrived, the Democratic party sprinted toward the center, with the Clintons pioneering “triangulation” and The Third Way. The markets roared. Then in 2001, 9/11 kicked off the 21st century, and a new era of global instability and warfare; the rest, as they say, is (even more) history.

The moments before- the moment where capitalists’ fantasies looked poised to come true- weigh heavy in the minds of our political elite. In the 90s, it all seemed possible; you could denude the rainforest because the rainforest was, after all, infinite; Coca-Cola could suck down all the clean water it desired; big ag could monocrop the hell out of the land; no two countries with a McDonalds would ever go to war; and meanwhile, the middle class would grow, standards of living would increase around the world, everyone would be better off! It was win/win/win/win/win! All those environmentalists and communists were passé; they’d been wrong. The best way to save the Earth, and the people on it, was through economic development.

But capitalism sows the seeds of its own destruction, and now, in 2024, we all watch in horror as the planet heaps punishment after punishment on the species too arrogant to understand the warnings we’re generously given. Every emergency light is flashing red- change course or perish. Our feckless leaders seem incapable of understanding.

It’s not only the Earth that has suffered as the decades of exploitation accumulate. The workers, too, feel the crush as the ruling class cannot resist taking more, more, more for itself. Although distributing its ill-gotten gains more fairly would preserve its own position for longer, those at the top are too deluded, too greedy, too loyal to the belief system of their cult to understand this. Leftist, environmentalist, indigenous voices that were once marginalized now gain audiences through social media.

So, we come to the point that the contradictions of capitalism are intensifying. Workers in the West can no longer envision themselves getting a college education, making a decent living, buying a 4-bedroom home, retiring with a pension. Workers around the world, meanwhile, who manufacture our things, continue to suffer inhumane standards of living. Although the most extreme poverty lessens, over half of workers still live on less than $10/day. The global middle class doesn’t materialize anywhere other than, arguably, China, free from the clutches of the IMF and its predatory structural adjustment programs.

It is against this backdrop that the Democratic Party attempts, every two years, to defend the status quo.

The Democratic Party is a party ferociously committed to looking backwards. They yearn for 1995, when the future was neoliberal deregulation, triangulation, and the Clintons. When Fukuyama announced that history had ended, it seems like a lot of Democratic officials stopped reading.

Now, you might be thinking to yourself, what the hell does this all have to do with the election just passed? Surely, you’re not arguing that the Republican party is the counter-weight here, the anti-capitalist foe? Not at all. No, the Republican party is capitalist, hyper-capitalist. They have, however, faced the reality that the status quo will not continue as is. There won’t be a future where a diverse, global family shares in the wealth produced by capitalism, where the poor are raised up to become the global middle class and globalization saves the wretched of the Earth.

The communist, socialist, or leftist alternative vision of our future is to dismantle the machine of exploitation that destroys, kills, denudes, and steals resources and workers. In order to have a planet, and workers who share in its bounty, we need to rethink the way we govern ourselves and our resources, drastically. And allowing a teeny tiny group of people- billionaires- to have outsize influence over political and economic policy flies in the face of democratic governance itself.

The fascist vision of the future is to buckle in, turn the machine up higher, and kill anyone who gets in the way. Protect the billionaires at any cost, while understanding very well that it is billionaire vs humanity itself. Get your followers to identify with the former and hate the latter. Build walls, keep out climate refugees. Deport people en masse. As things get worse, blame minorities. Distract people with culture wars, misogyny, racism, transphobia; same as it ever was. As the extinction-level outcomes of climate change materialize, shove your followers into a bottomless vortex of conspiracy, let them be dragged to the bottom, sputtering, swearing, soaking and drowning. Republicans, now led by Donald Trump, don’t act as though there will be enough to “go around”; they act as though they are going to divide society into “winners” and “losers,” with the “losers” condemned to low-wage labor, prison, deportation, or death.

This is how feckless liberalism condemns us to fascism. It offers us no future, while silencing the leftists who try. It’s no longer believable to say you represent workers and donors, oil companies and the environment. You have to pick one. When the chips are down, you have to pick a side.

The public is living through the collapse of what briefly appeared stable: a globalized, capitalist economy, deregulated in accordance with the principles of neoliberalism. This global economic system, little-bound by the laws of individual states and thus more powerful than pseudo-democratically run states, is running up against the physical limitations of the planet. Oil is not infinite. Polar ice caps melt. The methane in the permafrost is a climate bomb. Monocropping degrades the soil. More climate disasters mean less arable land for agriculture. Continually overusing groundwater means water shortages.

You can’t run a global society on the principle that what makes money for a private company today is always beneficial, and what harms the collective in the long-term is never detrimental.

The Democrats’ problem is that they will not acknowledge what has become clear to so many of us: that their “triangulation” 90s-era compromise, their brilliant idea of representing both big business and workers is simply not possible. The interests of these two groups diametrically oppose one another, and the capitalist mythology that rich people getting richer helps everyone get richer didn’t turn out to be true. As rich people and corporations have gobbled up an unprecedented proportion of American wealth, they’ve also grabbed up all the land and property, pushing homes out of reach for ordinary workers. When rich people own all the homes, how can poor people own those same homes? Capitalist dogma refuses to acknowledge constraints on resources, refuses to blink as we watch our homes flood, our fields turn barren, our cities begin to suffer water shortages.

The growing dissatisfaction with Democrats’ doublespeak came to a head in 2015. Democratic Socialist Bernie Sanders launched a longshot Presidential campaign against pre-selected nominee Hillary Clinton. What happened next shocked political analysts and observers. Clinton came into the race with the support of every major player in the Democratic establishment, every media endorsement, and a billion-dollar war chest. Sanders, conversely, boasted nothing but a straight-talking style, a refusal to accept corporate PAC money, and a few oft repeated talking points about the billionaire class.

Fueled by $27 donations, Sanders’ campaign went on to win 23 contests, but was dragged down by the unanimously hostile response from Democratic insiders, political commentators, media outlets, and, unsurprisingly, the donor class. A party that was interested in winning vs. the powerhouse Trump campaign would’ve taken seriously a grassroots campaign that was able to perform so well with so many disadvantages. Instead, the Democratic party and its Superdelegates repeatedly put its finger on the scale for Clinton, leading to the disastrous first win for Trump in 2016.

Now, finally, I’m getting to COVID.

A big part of the Democrats return to power in 2020 was COVID. That’s not my opinion; that is what exit polls tell us about voters’ decision to turn out for Joe Biden. The top two reasons Democrats had for turning out to the polls in November of 2020 were racial justice issues and the pandemic.

Democrats never seemed to understand how reluctantly the public returned them to power. It wasn’t an, “oh, thank God, Joe Biden is here,” vote. It was a “we have to get this fucking guy [Donald Trump] out of here” vote. A good chunk of the party was still angry at the way Sanders had been treated. Workers were still suspicious that Democrats were promising to represent them during campaign season, then going on to represent donors. But frankly, the country was in crisis.

In November 2020, vaccines were not yet available for COVID-19. The nation was headed into a winter wave that would kill hundreds of thousands. And, importantly, the media didn’t downplay these deaths, it emphasized them. When a hundred thousand died, their names made the front page of the New York Times. The Democrats capitalized on the gore. When 220,000 had died, Biden announced that “no one” who had overseen that kind of death should remain President. 800,000+ Americans have died of COVID during his Presidency, which he has yet to resign.

Yes, yet again, Democrats pulled a bait and switch. Just like with immigration, racial justice, police violence, climate change and indigenous land rights, Democrats cried their crocodile tears right up until the Inauguration, then dried their eyes. AOC famously went and sobbed at a detention center during Trump’s Presidency, which she did not do again during Biden’s term. Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer wore Kente cloth and kneeled in solidarity with George Floyd in a roundly mocked photo op before going on and giving the police more funding under Biden. I always thought it was a nice touch that Nancy’s mask was around her chin.

And Biden, Harris, and their spouses held a memorial at the reflecting pool for the 400,000 Americans who died of COVID under Trump the night before their Inauguration, only to never again mention Americans dying of COVID en masse again when they actually had the power to do something about it.

In short, Democrats went Back to Brunch, in a big way. The politicians, the analysts, the media allies, the donors, the pundits, and upper-middle-class Karens, the people with “I’m With Her” bumper stickers on their BMWs, the consultants, the actors, the data guys, the people who don’t notice the cost of groceries, they all together, astonishingly quickly, said thank you immigrants, Black people, disabled people, indigenous people, trans people, we won’t be needing you anymore, and went right back to pretending neoliberal capitalism isn’t about to hurl us all over a cliff.

My focus is COVID. I followed closely as, in the delusional world of the Biden liberal, getting COVID (a virus which damages the brain, heart, and immune system) twice a year became a totally okay and in fact laudable thing. I watched as wearing a mask went from being socially positive, to being socially ok, to being socially negative, as Bidenism reverted from anti-Trump to its true form; pro-capital. To protect capital, people need to accept this new condition of employment: more, repeated sickness, zero protections and ongoing risk of disability.

Their catchphrase for accepting this new, degraded quality of life was “back to normal.”

But while I focused on COVID, this wasn’t the only arena where Democrats pushed people “back to normal”. While Trump was in office, the Democrats succeeded in riling up their base about immigration, climate, and racial justice. As soon as they got power back, they tamped it all back down. As far as Democrats were concerned, Trump was in the rearview. So now everyone could go “back to normal.”

No more crying in front of detention camps.

No more kneeling in Kente cloth.

No more masks, COVID tests, or memorials for hundreds of thousands dead.

Donald Trump won this election because 19 million Democrats who turned out for Joe Biden failed to vote. Everyone has their own opinion about why. To me, it seems that in 2020, the public pushed Democrats back into the White House not excitedly, but reluctantly and conditionally. Instead of understanding that they owed the voters, particularly the most marginalized, this last chance at power, Democrats smugly swaggered back into the Oval Office and slammed the door behind them.

“See ya next cycle!” they called over their shoulder. Is it a wonder they didn’t?

For four years, the Biden Administration and “resistance libs” have been acting as if Donald Trump was a bad dream, fascism creeping across America a bad dream, COVID a bad dream. None of it was “real,” we all woke up and wanted “normalcy”, everything went “back” to what it should be, we all threw our masks away and returned to brunch. But that was never what the voters, who elected Biden in desperation, asked for.

We asked for a party, for leaders, who were ready to confront the crises brought into sharp relief under Trump, not bury them.

So wake up now, liberals. Trump was never your nightmare, Biden was your silly little fantasy. Dark Brandon can’t save us. The donor class can’t save us. Triangulation and deregulation and big legislation with giant handouts for oil companies can’t save us. And anything that can’t save us now, will doom us.

Because normal isn’t coming back. The crisis isn’t over. It’s only getting started.