#theres an adult man with no job and u want me to do work

[plasterhound]

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[napsaps-archive]

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[reilleclan-blog]

This world has seriously lost the plot, I am so tired so tired of constantly waking up. This system is collapsing all this news shit is just a compilation of capitalism failing . And I'm so fucking tired of this shit I'm so fucking anxious about every goddamn thing . I hate work no REAL HUMAN BEING SHOULD BE WORKING 40hrs A WEEK . THIS WORLD HAS TAKEN SO MANY THINGS AND JUST REARRANGED THEM INTO DIFFERENT SHIT. SLAVERY IS PRISON SYSTEMS, HAVING A DAMN JOB IS SLAVERY BY CHOICE, ITS ALL BULLSHIT. I'm so angry and sad I'm so sad dude. This world is coming to an end , I wake up everyday like I'm waiting for the sky to fall like I'm chicken little. I remember as a kid I was being abused most of my school years grammar and highschool, and our neighbors would probably hear all of that shit for years and years. But when I'd get off the bus I'd walk past them with my headphones on and I didn't know they were talking to me I didn't hear them or was paying attention and a lot of them took such offense too that. Me a kid being hated on by adults and others because I didn't speak to them , even though everyday of my life I was being beat and verbally abused. But neighbors are worried about me thinking I'm "better than them". And b/c of this my mom got into a very heated argument with them over it, I just remember crying my eyes out b/c I just never understood why ppl hate me for the weirdest shit. Even when I thought I didn't do anything wrong I was always hated. This was my life for years still is my life, on top of still living with my abuser been abused by a lot of my family ppl I thought were supposed to protect me, this is all. My point is ppl only give a fuck about "appearances" nobody gave a fuck about me getting screamed at or me screaming my heart out b/c of how much pain I was dealing with ON MY OWN, but yeah dude call me out for not saying HELLO TO U. This world is just so sick this place makes me physically ill idk how im still going idk how im still trying to hold on to some slither of hope when most of my life I've never felt significant to anyone except my dog.

Black men police black women like police officers police black men, everyone wants some sort of power of control some power of worth. That's why so many ppl are misguided or pointing fingers at everyone else but the damn white supremacists, just conduct us to hate one another and it's that simple. The amount of times a black man felt entitled to me saying hello to them is fucking insane, if I don't say hello I'm likely dead , if I do say hello I'm likely dead, there's no winning in this situation. THERES BLACK WOMEN GOING MISSINF AND BEING KILLED EVERY SINGLE DAY BUT BLACK MEN ARE SO WORRIED ABOUT A FUCKING HELLO??? maybe protect and nurture black women and maybeee more of us would feel safe around yall . I don't feel safe I don't speak I keep to myself and I'm still seen as "rude" "aggressive" "mean" . This place makes NO FUCKING SENSE DUDE IT DOESNT. Ppl are talking about this election left and right, tbh I really don't give a flying fuck about the election this entire system is corrupt , ppl just want Donald stupid ass out of the office b/c he managed to be a menace to even republicans lol it's fucking hilarious . I genuinely loathe this place I'm ready to leave I'm ready to go . Donald Trump is the true damn hokage shoulder all the hate lookin ass(this is a fucking joke)

I'm so fucking tired why have I been lucky still breathing , idkidkidk I can't imagine my future at all I can't see myself being happy I can't see nothing. I'm terrified of this place

ITS 60DEGREES IN FUCKING CHICAGO IN FUCKING OCTOBER WTF IS GOING ONNNNN

[starburns]

my mother has gone hungry for nights and given me her food when i wanted more, she never told me to take only a little, never told me to keep some for someone else, never served me less than i wanted and i just had my grandfather told me to not take too much of a bhaji to save it for my father. i do not know if this is as raging to u as it is to me. i am the daughter here. i am the CHILD here. hello. wtf is wrong with u.

[wizkiddx]

Congratulations on 500 followers!! Could you do nr 2 with Tom please <3

thankyou <33 im very in my feels abt friends to lover atm, so ik this is a completely unoriginal concept but here we are

warning: nothing much- maybe homesickness? (+ the fact tom has poor choice in popcorn )

^^^ sorry I couldn't not put this on here and I will reuse it lots n lots

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“Right I got two options annnnddddd there is only one correct answer.” Tom hummed up at you, pulling his tired gaze away from the phone screen and up towards the kitchen where you were standing triumphantly - having just raided his cupboards. From behind your back you whipped out a bag of popcorn in each hand.

“Sweet…. or salty?” Sighing with a small chuckle Tom shook his head at your playfulness. He didn’t know how you did it but you always always made his smile.

“I’m not a psychopath…” You huffed in relief, already turning around to throw the salty back in the cupboard where it belonged. “So salty of course.”

You were trapped in a house with an absolute psychopath.

You scowled at him, for having such poor taste, expecting some sort of argument to start. That wasn’t the case though, instead he just stared at you expectantly.

He must really really be unhappy.

You’d sensed it on set that morning - it wasn’t hard to miss. Not when it was your best friend, who for the past two months you’d been spending at least 6 hours a day with whilst shooting. Even when you were supposed to have a day off, when Tom had some solo shots or vice versa, you’d still come to keep the other company. It didn’t make sense but you both just sort of liked it that way.

This wasn’t your first rodeo working together either. Your first joint project had been almost four years ago, when both of you were barely adults, still figuring everything out. Ever since it had been bumping into each other every so often, always with an easy and effortless relationship.

Your current director had noted your chemistry at an awards show (the man never switched off) and decided in that moment he HAD to cast you together for a project. And a year later, here you both were, shooting in Australia for what was set to be a record breaking new release.

And it had been going great - better than great even. But as soon as Tom had shown up to makeup this morning, you’d known something was up. It was fair to assume it was something from home, maybe even just a bit of homesickness, or perhaps something more severe. Either way, the situation was probably exacerbated by the fact he didn’t have his brother or bestfriend or manager or normal syltist with him right now. Tom was pretty renowned within the industry for always having a massive entourage - which was normally made up with his family and friends. This time though he was going it solo.

Today had been long and you’d had to do press at stupid oclock in the morning last night for your current release - which meant your plan had always been to leave promptly and collapse into bed as soon as physically possible.

But Tom needed your company. So you hadn’t. Instead, you’d somewhat subtly invited yourself to his rented house for a movie night - blaming it on your director wanting you both to study the relationship dynamics in ‘out of sight’ (a J Lo and Clooney romance movie).

“You think you know a person and then they loose all your respect… just like that.” You sigh jokingly, gesturing to the bag of ‘foul’ popcorn your costar seemed to like.

“Well we’ve come to a crossroads.”

“It’s been nice knowing you but this…” you scoffed and dramatically rolled your eyes “… I see no way out.”

“Isn’t it better if we have a bag each? Then I might manage to actually get some before you scoff them all.”

You yelped in protest, though really you were just grateful he was still up for a bit of a laugh. He had been much less jokey the whole day, though was seeming to warm up a bit.

Once you had poured the two bags of popcorn into two separate bowels and prepared the film on TV; you plopped yourself onto Tom’s sofa, so your back was against the corner and your feet were over his lap (it wasn’t weird, just normal for the two of you). Instinctively, Tom lightly grabbed your ankles, repositioning you on his thigh slightly before leaning across the pull the blanket over the both of you. Whilst he smoothed out the crinkles in the fluffy navy fabric you took the opportunity to poke your toe into his side - garnering his attention.

“I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?” After he froze, Tom then nodded jerkily. “But if you change your mind, you know I’m here right?” His demeanour changed at your second statement as his body literally sagged into the cushions, with a grateful if small smile.

He respond by mouthing an ‘I know’ and that was enough for you. Shuffling down the side a bit you pressed play, settling in for the evening. Tom still had a hand resting on your ankles, occasionally rubbing his thumb up and down the bony bit.

Honestly you didn’t really see what your director was going on about when he raved about their on screen chemistry and it seemed that neither did Tom. It wasn’t a scathing commentary that gave it away, instead it was his silence. Which you quickly realised was the he had drifted off, his head lolling a little so he was facing you, palms now completely lax on your legs. It was whilst you were just taking in the sight before you, that a buzzing cut through the otherwise soft noise from the TV - which you had turned down for Tom’s sake.

It wasn’t your phone but you instinctively still reached for it from the coffee table and seeing that the name just read “Harry H” you thought it’d be fine to answer.

“Harry?” You whispered into the receiver, slightly cupping your hand round your mouth just to make sure you weren’t too loud for Tom.

“Hello?”

“Harry it’s me”

“Who?” You’d met Harry countless times, though given the fact Tom had been alone all shoot - you shouldn’t of expected the kid to be able to recognise your voice.

“Oh sorry Y/n um Y/n L/n”

“Oh no my fault sorry Y/n. How are you?” The conversation was jilted, you could practically feel the awkward energy radiating all the way from the otherside of the world.

“I’m alright thanks, how about you.”

“Yeh not bad I uhm… I - is my brother there?” Oooh. How to answer that question.

“Um sort of, we er… we were having a movie night and he’s fallen asleep. It’s why I’m whispering like a weirdo.” Harry laughed at that and you continued. “Is everything okay? You need me to wake him?”

“No no, mum just said he was having a rough time so was going to cheer him up with my exquisite sense of humour but if you’ve bored him to death then no need.”

“What can I say I’m just talented. Anyway I should be heading back to mine anyway so um I’ll let you go?”

“Oh yeh no worries, and uhm thanks-um thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“Someone has to” You chuckled softly back, before bidding a final farewell to Harry.

Having hung up the phone, you leaned over to gently place it back on the coffee table but making a mental note to put it on charge before you left. Your next job was to manoeuvre your legs away from him without disturbing him but before you could even start planning the movement, you noticed his weary eyes blinked over at you. Freezing, your mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as you winced at yourself for disrupting his peace - today really wasn’t the day for that. There was a silence as Tom swallowed thickly, attempting to shake off the heavy lull of rest before he spoke. “Will you stay with me… please.”

Undoubtedly, your body didn’t play it as cool as you wanted it to. Thinking you’d heard him wrong, your chin protruded forward and his eyes widened. “ Sorry not like-not like that just um-just on the sofa… theres-theres spare blankets and I can-“

“-course T, no worries…Oh and um your brother just phoned if you-“

“I know.” He spoke softly and with a nod, but didn’t move at all, apparently no interest in calling his brother back.

With a stammered nod, you stood up, finally removing your legs from his touch in order to nip to the loo. You splashed your face with water, ate some toothpaste ( better than not brushing your teeth at all) before going to collect Tom’s quilt off his bed. By the time you re-entered the living room, Tom hadn’t appeared to have moved at all. The hood of his purple jumped was still up, the blanket still only half covering him, the excess lying cold were you had been sitting. He laughed lightly at you trying to wrangle with the king size duvet and get it in without tripping over yourself or knocking anything over.

“You sure you don’t mind? I’m just being stupid and-“

“Honestly I’m too tired to walk back to mine so this is perfect.”

“You live across the road.”

“Thats like 50 steps too far.” You deadpanned back, as he raised his eyebrows and locked you direct eye contact - which you very stubbornly returned.

The both of you sat like that for a minute, Tom eventually gave up with a sigh as he motioned for you to lie back.

There wasn’t an issue at all with space. A listers rental homes were never lacking in space - the grey sofa was a U shape, with ample space for the both of you to lie down. Each of you took a respective corner, your legs meeting in the middle and gently brushing against each others.

“Thanks for babysitting me today by the way.”

“I wasn-“ You were about to deny it, except one look and Tom saw straight through you.

“Thankyou Y/n/n” Seeing there was no way out of receiving his thanks, you instead opted to just shut him up. Nudging his leg with yours and leaving it touching you murmured you last words of the evening - eyes already closed.

“Fuck off Holland, ‘m tryna sleep.”

~~~~ let me know if you have any feedback or anything (but pls not too mean this isn't proof read so blame that) <33 ~~~~~~

tagging : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

[riphimopen]

i'm watching the Halloweens for the first time these days (skipping the third one and the sixth one bc fuck off obviously) and you're the michael expert in my eyes i wanna know EVERYTHING you think of him and how do you feel about the rob zombie version etc etc <3 thank youuuu

IM THE EXPERT????? OH BOY IM SMOOCHING YOU no youre making the right choices FUCK 3 6 and FUCK rz. ok here we go let me just talk abt the movies first

west coast best coast first movie best movie PERIOD obv im all for expanding on mikes character and shit etc but 1978 said THERE IS A FUCKED UP GUY PERIOD. THATS IT. and i really admired their dedication to lack of detail. like if i was just gonna watch one and done? first movie has mike, jamie lee curtis, and murders, and thats really all you need. plus obv cinematography and soundtrack

H2 is where we get BALLING its got explosions doctors MORE JAMIE LEE CURTIS and ofc...... my favorite plot twist on da planet lol <333 personally i love the sibling twist bc its funny as SHIT. h2 is a good one. ending wild as shit

h3 not real #girl

h4 and 5......... UGH ok i love jamie lloyd sm she a baby fr and one of the best things to happen to the franchise. WE DO NOT TALK ABT THE THORN CURSE OR H6 THEY R NOT REAL overall 4+5 as a package deal are solid and have some good moments, if you can get past the stupid druid shit and the man in black theres lots to expand on mikes character and make you HATE sam loomis

h20 is the FUNNIEST SHIT on the planet. PERIOD LMAOO LIKE??? this was really the Laurie Off Tha Shits movie and i think they were SO brave for that i personally dont keep it main cannon in my little brain but its extremely funny and i love the emphasis on sibling dynamic. its so good and by the end ur yelling like YES thats what horror characters SHOULD have done

resurrection................... GOD well. i wish jlc couldve done the whole thing but she didnt. and mike gets electrocuted in da balls by Busta Rhymes so thats really all there is to that one

now on the rob zombie shit. asides from the EXTREME amount of nudity and sex scenes in that shit, asides from all the other things that dont work w those movies, THE THING THAT IRKS ME IS THAT HE TRIED TO REMAKE JASON. he tried to make michael into a hulking sympathetic giant with an abusive childhood who can talk to his mothers vision and is heavily motivated by his grief trauma and emotions like. We Literally Already Have Jason Thank You. myers is meant to be some batshit 5'10 dude completely off his gourd and ASIDES FROM ALL THE WEIRD MISOGYNY AND VIOLENCE of the rzs, they just do a shitty job of recharacterizing mike

AND LASTLY THE 2018 TRILLOGY..... ok so 2018 was solid. kinda dumb, but we get laurie for the lesbians and bald asf myers. kinda stupid asf to be hyping him up if they're picking up right after the first one, and im bummed they didnt keep the sibling plot, but whatever

KILLS, however. this movie is true to its name and has good kill scenes but thats ALL i can say in its favor. it's muddled commentary on mob mentality and policy brutality completely overshadow any point it may have made about ableism within the horror genre and it ultimately ends up advocating for the police to murder unarmed citizens while simultaneously being extremely preachy in condoning mob violence, encouraging the public to leave things to the cops and encouraging cops to be more violent. BUT: mike takes out all those firefighters and it fucks hard so its ur call to balance

and u want 2 hear what i think abt mike..... ugh i luv u ok. so ive said it before and ill say it again i LOVE two dimensional evil characters who are just SHITTY and villainous and nothing behind their eyes. but since michaels establishment in the very first film, we are given too much of his background to properly categorize him as one of the above. this is a medically abused severely drugged young adult breaking out of a decade and a half of serious trauma and going off the shits one night; one can hardly take a character one meets as a helpless child and condemn it to the label of monster. my design and interpretation of michael are heavily based on my experience with mental illness because, when u really boil him down, he is a mentally ill person who was never given the help he needed and was in fact exploited, abused, and mistreated, and went off the rails bc of it. its largely a critique of the medical field: i hate doctors. the way i see michael is as literally just some guy, some complete rando, who was dealt shitty mental health at a young age, handed over to abusers, and was able to achieve the catharsis and vindication of becoming the monster theyd told him he was bc. well i love rage killing and excessive violence lol

deep sigh anyway thank u SO much 4 asking dont take any of this as law and make sure to formulate ur own opinions ofc donate a billion dollars to ur local mentally ill person AND REMEMBER: horror movies is for laughing and going "AH!" and thats all there is 2 it.

[palbabor-writes]

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex     

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them. 

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE. 

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb  a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at. 

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes.  Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town. 

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed. 

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.” 

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off. 

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar. 

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while. 

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you. 

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch? 

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor. 

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth. 

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction. 

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle. 

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands. 

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor. 

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.” 

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.  

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******     

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves. 

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious. 

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his. 

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer. 

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off. 

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move. 

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly. 

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take. 

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along. 

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it. 

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness.  It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins. 

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******   

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar. 

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer. 

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.  

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well. 

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter. 

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers. 

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law. 

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him. 

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered. 

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too. 

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight. 

The white shine of his hair always gives him away. 

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?” 

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke. 

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you. 

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.” 

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger. 

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?” 

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it. 

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark. 

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze. 

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his. 

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now. 

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness. 

******                

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him. 

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension. 

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions. 

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine. 

******    

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened. 

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation. 

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features. 

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness. 

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly. 

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion. 

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists. 

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens. 

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might. 

Late one evening, your phone rings. 

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive. 

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly. 

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor. 

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so... 

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you. 

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you. 

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.” 

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this. 

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want. 

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting. 

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him. 

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him. 

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you. 

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you. 

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips. 

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks. 

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on. 

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult. 

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth. 

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you. 

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips. 

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh. 

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes. 

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth. 

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good. 

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands. 

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes. 

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking. 

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips. 

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him. 

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking. 

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration. 

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him. 

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his. 

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you. 

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him. 

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue. 

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply. 

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you. 

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience. 

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?” 

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection. 

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor. 

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head. 

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different. 

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed. 

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher. 

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.” 

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes. 

Tomura, for his part, hadn��t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished. 

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous. 

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs. 

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent. 

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind. 

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have. 

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality. 

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going. 

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin. 

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall. 

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub. 

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it. 

He’s never been alone, not like this. 

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same. 

He needs to see this through. 

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away. 

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple. 

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go. 

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin. 

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme. 

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

[babygirlizz]

izzie’s favorite movies and tv shows of 2020 (aka the worst year ever)

another year, another movie and tv show review. this year has, to put it simply, sucked. 2020 has been so terribly awful that sometimes the only light you can see are the absolute bangers of movies and tv shows that came out this year. with that being said, some of the movies and tv shows didn't come out in 2020. if the are mentioned in this post it is because they either: had a season come out this year, i found them this year, or they became popular this year.

SPOILERS: it may not come as a surprise but just in case you didn't realize, there will be many spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

tw // death, suicide, drug use, mild adult language. if any of these things might trigger you, i strongly urge you not to read this post.

there is no specific order of these shows and movies, i'm just writing as they come to mind. if you enjoy any of these movies or tv shows, or if you have any suggestions for me, please let me know!

TV SHOWS

1) Santa Clarita Diet

Okay, so I know this show doesn't have anything to do with 2020. But, I found this show in 2020. I put it off for a while, thinking it wasn't my style of a show, but boy was I wrong. I loved this show. Sheila Hammond (Drew Barrymore) is a normal suburban wife and mom. She is a real estate agent with her husband Joel (Timothy Olyphant). She struggles with the fact that she isn't very adventurous. This all changes when she throws up an insane amount at a house showing. She then finds herself craving adventure, and craving human flesh. Yeah, she's a zombie. Not only is this show super hilarious, but it also shows the growth that they have with their characters and their family. I'm also team Abby (Liv Hewson) and Eric (Skyler Gisondo).

2) Outer Banks

So, I'm from NC. And, watching this show at first bothered me because I can very obviously tell this show isn't actually filmed in the obx, and the geography isn't exact, but once I got past that, I loved it. John B (Chase Stokes) is a teenager that lives in the poor side of the outer banks. He has a friend group called the Pogues which consists of JJ (Rudy Pankow), Pope (Jonathan Daviss), and Kie (Madison Bailey). They absolutely hate the Kooks, which are the rich kids. A while after John B's dad gets lost at sea, presumed dead, the group finds some evidence that may solve the mystery, and make them rich. In the process, John B falls in love with a Kook names Sarah (Madelyn Cline) whose father Ward (Charles Esten) may have a little more to do with the mystery than he let on. Through friendship, murder, and secrets, the gang may just figure out what happened to John B's dad.

3) Love, Victor

Alright. I loved loved loved Love, Simon. I also really loved the book "Simon vs. the Homosapien Agenda." So, when I heard about this show, I was so excited. Victor (Michael Cimino) is a teenage boy that moved to Creekwood with his family. He meets Felix (Anthony Turpel) who lives in his building. He also meets Mia (Rachel Hilson) and they begin dating. But, he also meets Benji (George Sear). While trying to get used to a new school, new friends, and a new relationship, Victor finds himself questioning his sexuality. With the help of Simon (Nick Robinson) and his friends, Victor finds it in himself to finally come out, and he admits his feelings, for Benji. This is such a good show, but I was so upset when season 1 ended on a cliff-hanger.

4) The Haunting of Bly Manor

The sequel to The Haunting of Hill House. Now listen, haunting of hill house was an absolute banger. When I saw that Bly came out I nearly died. I was so excited. But, I was alone in my apartment and also a lil bitch. So, I had to wait a week until I was home with my family to watch it. Now, I was so excited to be scared, and there were a few jump scares and ominous moments, but this season was more centered around the story line of Dani Clayton (Victoria Pedretti) and her new life in a foreign country. When seeing an ad for a live in job as an au pair. When she gets there, she meets the two young children she’ll be looking out for and the other workers of the house, including the gardener, Jamie (Amelia Eve). Throughout her stay at Bly she begins to notice weird behaviors from both children and by the end of the series she sacrifices herself for the children. Sadly, this story is being told by Jamie who Dani had fallen in love with during her stay at Bly. Now I was somewhat upset about the lack of horror, but was still very intrigued and drawn in by this series.

5) Julie and the Phantoms

Alright, at first I was not gonna watch this show. I thought it looked a little too young and childish for me, but everyone was talking about it on twitter so I had to. I. Love. This. Show. This show centers around Julie (Madison Reyes). Julie is a teenage girl who, sadly, lost her mother. The one major thing she shared with her mom, was their love for music. Since her mothers passing, she gave up music. This is until, dead musicians from the 90′s show up in her garage. Luke (Charlie Gillespie), Alex (Owen Joyner), and Reggie (Jeremy Shada) all tragically passed away in the 90′s after eating bad street hotdogs. When Julie finds their CD in her garage, she decides to play it and they come back in ghost form. But, only she can see them. With their help, she finds her confidence to play music again. Also, she has to find away for them to stay because they’re slowly disappearing. 

6) Derry Girls

Bitch. I love this show. And yeah it didn’t come out in 2020. Shut up. I found this show recently after watching the cast on the holiday special of the Great British Baking Show. I loved the actors so I had to watch the show. This show focuses on Erin (Saoirse-Monica Jackson) a 16 year old girl that lives in Derry, Northern Ireland in the 90′s. Alongside her is her cousin Orla (Louisa Harland), her two friends Clare (Nicola Coughlan) and Michelle (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), and Michelle’s English cousin James (Dylan Llewellyn). During these years, a lot of people in Ireland struggled, especially because it was during wartime. Even thought this show isn’t focused heavily around the war, it’s amazing to see these teens live a fulfilling life while struggling with the state of their country, and the lack of money that their families have. 

7) Elite

HA. This show did have a season in 2020 so leave me alone. But bro, I love this show. At first, I didn’t watch it because I thought I could only watch the dubbed version in English, which I hate. I hate dubbed shows they look so weird. But, once I found out I could watch this show in Spanish, I fell in love. But, sadly, theres too damn much to talk about in one little post. It’s crazy. But basically it just follows the lives of teens in high school that are trying to survive. And no, not in the “I’m surviving high school,” sense. No, people be getting murdered. 

MOVIES (tbh i didn’t find a lot of movies good this year lmk which movies u liked this year and maybe i’ll like them!)

1) All the Bright Places

After the death of her sister, Violet (Elle Fanning) is devastated. She closes herself off, and has her parents get her out of doing school work that involves working with others. But, as time goes on, they realize she may need to start to move on. Violet then meets Finch (Justice Smith) who is enamored by Violet. He suggests they do a project together. While finding and visiting some of the smallest wonders of their state, they begin to fall for each other. While you are focusing on Violet and her mental health, you tend to miss some of the signs that Finch’s mental health isn’t great either, but by the time you do, it could be too late. 

2) Dangerous Lies

Hmm. This was weird for me. I had only ever seen Camila Mendes in Riverdale, and honestly, not a fan. So, Katie (Camila Mendes) and her husband Adam (Jessie T. Usher) are struggling with money. Katie decides to take a job working for an elderly man, and eventually gets her husband hired there as well. Unfortunately, he dies, but for some odd reason, leaves the house and all of his fortune, to Katie. As they get comfortable in the house, they begin to uncover some very weird and dangerous lies. 

3) The Devil All the Time

Ok. Iconic. You got so many hot men in this movie. Bill Skarsgård, Sebastian Stan, Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson. C’mon now. That’s crazy. But, this story is so long and in depth that I wouldn’t even know where to begin. This movie is a bit disturbing. It involves murder, sexual assault, killing of animals, and so much more so if that’s an issue for you please do not watch this movie. It was also quite long, but it was still good.

4) After We Collided

Okay just listen. I was that teenager. I read wattpad stories and was, embarrassingly, addicted to After. This was not a great movie per say, but it was After. This is a sequel to the movie After. This movie centers around Tessa (Josephine Langford) and her recovery after her breakup with Hardin (Hero Fiennes Tiffin). Theres sex, alcohol, bad acting. The whole nine-yards. But c’mon, they’re so cute together.

5) To All the Boys p.s. I Still Love You

Okay it was a good movie. I enjoyed it. This movie focuses on Lara Jean (Lana Condor) and her boyfriend Peter (Noah Centineo) and their relationship post the first movie. But of course relationships aren’t super steady, and John Ambrose McClaren (Jordan Fisher) shows up. Yeah, John Ambrose, from her letter. They become closer and Lara Jean has to decide who she wants to be with. Spoiler, it’s Peter. BOOOOOOO justice for John Ambrose McClaren, he deserved better. 

[kazewhara]

Hi zuzu <33 its been a while dkdbdkdn

Can u believe im done with hs? Im off to college (if i pass the one entrance exam i took)

On the road to more adulting... Super scary.... Ive been,,, going out more,,,, (its so fucking exhausting how do people do this) and trynna improve my socializing,,,, (its not working) but on the bright side i get to play minecraft with my friends :)) it's absolutely amazing and fun

Im getting a new laptop and phone soon too!! Super excited for that as well :))

I also wanted to talk abt ur kazuha brainrot,,,, its not a bad thing ofc,,, but ur brainrot is giving ME a brainrot >:(((

Especially your kissing headcanons... Its to die for you coward >:((( /lh

Anyways, i hope youre doing well zuzu... And i hope you have a fantastic day :))

P.s. if theres any news regarding arson or mass murder, it's me

-aggressive anon

omg, congrats!! you made it through hs, that's such a big milestone! :D you're definitely gonna pass that exam and go to college 🏋🏾

oh man, take it from me, socializing and putting yourself out there is hard work, but you're making efforts and that's amazing! idk if this means anything, but i'm proud of you! 💗💕💕💗💕💗💕💗

also the kazuha brainrot... that's all i do .. the only purpose i serve is to spread the little worms that live in my brain that talk about kissing kazuha all the time! so you having brainrot means i'm doing my job well 🙆🏽

you take care of yourself, you hear? know your limits and don't force yourself to do anything you don't want to do! give yourself grace and have a great day, lovie 💗

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / SEPTEMBER 30, 2019 // larkspur lane/the whisper box

this post is a double whammy cause they have 2 eps happen in the same day if u can believe it (thats how awful judging timelines in this show is!!)

-"hi josh..." LMAOOOOOOO

-BESS just breaking in lmaooo how many god damn times does bess just shit the bed in this show

-LOVE her frowny face at nancys closet ("my expectations are low" lmfaoooo but this would totally be me)

-"bet she meant it metaphorically" okayyy but then why did lucy say that at all? i feel like theres defo more to this story, combined with josh's cagey behavior (part of which is to get nancy to stop looking into shit d/t him and karen but still)

-"they dont accept visitors unless they're family" .....🙂

-ace "youre really good at that" to bess i fuckin love this friendship with all my heart (also love their talk at the claw mirroring nick & nancys talk in the last ep)

-also PINK AND ORANGE BESS ARE U BLIND (also 1) why tf would nancy own this and 2) where would she wear it??)

-okay wtf is vampire dip

-"boss??" see this is what i meant yesterday about nancy ruining everything for nick/george

-god DAMN she sucks at dealing with this news lmaooo that emotional competency babey + love george literally agrees to help bc she feels bad (AND nicks immediate look of "you just reprimanded me for helping her last ep and i know why youre doing this rn" lmaoooo)

-LOVE george noticing nick "shout out to jean valjean" lmaooo once again nancy would never have noticed/commented on something like that

-"get the hell out of here" was this foreshadowing for an epic dad joke for these two eps? "how do you make holy water? you boil the hell out of it" 😂😂😂😂

-so what i dont get about the whole haunting is the ball + kids' laughter but its all the emphasis on "mr roper" the adult? wtf like what kind of entity is this

-"how did you ever have a solo career??" 😂

-okay amaya's hair is gorgeous here (also "you feel like a snack" ....👀) *ahhh so the reason bess feels so off balance is bc its like a top vs a top scenario

-has anyone who's ever been to prison confirmed this is what it looks like?

-love how ace is the only employee there when they all leave so he had to fucking close the place when he goes

-why does she take the whole file? time constraints? it'd be smarter to take pics + replace it (better sleuthing) but this place is clearly not well run anyway 😂

-so this is a pretty decent cover she invents but theres no way she would get away with it so easily for a real guard

-love how ace recognizes ryan's car (+ is able to find it by driving around)

-"my father wouldnt do anything like that" LMFAOOOOOO SIS WHY ARE U DEFENDING HIM ironically, ace is actually the best person suited to engage w ryan here d/t the car accident + connection with laura being ryans SIL. its a unique set up

-i am fascinated by the concept of priests + holy water being so effective here combined with mcginnis' beliefs and basically nondenominational ghosts/seances etc after that. the show is very clearly big on diversity but definitely steers clear from too much WASP stuff yk? wonder if other stuff from christianity works against the ghosts/demons like taking refuge in a church "holy ground" or using silver etc

-"did this start after the night of sept 10?" *this is where you get the time line for the seance if you didnt know

-this is so fucking funny when u realize that patient sal talks to is actually a ghost so sal really is psycho i guess 😂

-bitchsplain/tall jar of mayonnaise 🙏🏻😌 2gether 4ever

-how did ace get this van? also heart attack when he yells at carson (but then grins at him like a goofball lmaooo)

-"for nancys sake and yours" damn she owes ace big time for all this shit

-"what do we do for 7 minutes?" ...ummm play 7 minutes in heaven lmaooo 👀🥵

-was not expecting ace to look this sexy holding an axe but okay (*ah, its his short sleeve shirt showing his arms. usually hes a sleeves guy)

-"desperate for attention" nancy (from gomber) vs "bc she's starved for attention" patrice --> lucy (and candace also...) we know nancys detective work makes her seem like an attention seeker, but what was lucy doing to make them all think that? she was trying to hide her relationship with ryan, not expose it. unless they just mean the rumors about her?

-so is patrice hiding lucy's "truth" talking about lucy being a whore or lucy being a ghost? what is lucy's secret? did patrice guess she was pregnant or did patrice's somehow garbled mind remember tiffany trying to show patrice the video with lucy on it?

-wonder what captain thom thinks of this stand off w ace lmaooo

-"like you do?" top v top shenanigans

-how awko for carson to talk to karen again like this

-"oh no" ACE 😂

-love how amaya says "be a human" like shes kind of admitting people in rich circles typically arent (^this is an interesting focus in s2 when bess's rich family rejects her, thus making her human again, but nancy embraces her rich fam and experiences subsequent moral struggle which is predicted with the wraith)

-wonder what ryan thinks he could get from the marvins (which he cant get now lmaooo)

-this damn whisper box. so many questions. who named it the whisper box? why are the ropers' old possessions still there? who decided to build a mental hospital on top of it? and patrice! she "hid lucy's secrets" hannah gruen thinks tiffany tried to show patrice video w lucy on it, which patrice then specifically says she hid in the thin mans book. so patrice knows of the thin man? can she see him? does she know he was a ghost/supernatural? she must have a supernatural sense to know about him (unless sal told or some shit) so then when tiffany shows up w/ lucy being supernatural in it patrice hides it to protect her? is this why she is "crazy" kinda like victoria? supernatural elements or ability to sense ghosts makes her unstable? this is why lucy being a ghost/nursery rhyme that she repeats makes patrice worse/"stroke"? how did patrice even get into the whisper box to put the key in the bible and get out without getting trapped? also, her dementia --> lucidity is really fucking off, some people mildly switch like that but usually with dementia they cant even register new shit anymore

-...so did bess take the ride? 👀

-interesting how celia says "your father will be disappointed" but nothing of her own opinion. wonder how much celia truly puts up with to keep everett calm and nonhomicidal

-like george asking nick follow up questions that nancy never really would have asked

🥞🥞🥞(ep13)🥞🥞🥞

-is this bitch just eating a plain pancake with her bare hand?

-"extra case load and excessive volunteering" ugh. nancy's family here are like, gross in how "good" of people they are // unrealistic, trying to paint carson in the best light/ no way ryan could ever compare (but the reality is theyre not that good of people for lying about nancy) **and shes arrogant to think shes better than everyone else ie the only one who truly lives virtuously, thinks she can do no wrong sometimes even tho using sex to cope, breaking and entering, etc is not morally "good" stuff she still thinks she is the only one who doesnt lie and plays fair (like in the pilot she lists everyone else as a suspect but herself- obviously we know she isnt guilty but no one else does. (i mean in theory we really dont, what if nancy was an unreliable narrator and was actually guilty, that would be a hella cool show)its reactions like that where she cant understand why others like the chief suspect her

-ooooh ironic that in the Good Place carson readily agrees to pay her for helping with cases as opposed to s2 in reality

-nick's house has "problems" so why does he need a lawyer? as opposed to an interior designer, plumber, or realtor?

-in the Good Place nick and george realize they are not going to work out after one date. does this failure in the Good Place predict failure in reality, or merely an easier way of figuring out the truth? does this mean that the "opposite" of the Good Place is reality, or only an opinion of what is better? (nancy says "you all like me" as her opinion of them liking her is skewed; does this then only reflect nancys version for what is the "perfect life"?)

-why is bess a hippie??? and love how george curls her hair and wears pink lipstick here

-if this dream is so realistic then why is the one thing it cant conjure smoke? like how random

-love the locket being a key realization bc with things like jewelry you dont notice the weight of them until theyre gone

-"you all like me" in her perfect life nancy means they "like" her objectively/regardless of circumstance even though liking her is still an objective choice (like they "like" her because of other reasons instead of her working at the claw? (like how you make friends with coworkers/people at school every day but after you leave the job/graduate you never speak to them again) and her "thanks for showing up!" as if theyre not doing exactly that in reality 😐like where is she getting this shit? she sort of acknowledges in earlier eps she is hard to like/that she puts mysteries before friends, but also pushing them away to avoid danger like the previous ep "why do u show up" etc

-is it just me or does the inside of nicks "house" look like the drews'?

-nick has a dick scar lmaooooo (or more likely was hit in the balls or smth)

-love how nick + george match their anger in confronting sal 100% on the same level

-so when did ace go back to work after having such a busy day earlier?? lmaooo

-damn father shane is a creep (casting defo hired him for his voice) and how tf did he just poof + escape? and what did he request???

-love bess's white hair bow here 😌+ her jacket, whole outfit on point as usual

-like how bess is right that nancy has to find her way out but thats kind of a nonstarter for a room full of panicked people wanting to help

-in the Good Place theres no bad blood between drews + hudsons bc nancy is really theirs

-"the only one who has the key is you" in the Good Place nancy has the key (smaller picture, to finding out what happened to lucy but bigger picture, post-reveal) but ryan has the clues nancy needs- following the Good Place's mirroring, this just means that in reality ryan will either be completely useless or an active hindrance (but you KNOW this is a dream bc in what universe would ryan remember clues like that 😂)

-so in a perfect universe ryan acknowledges his family's "criminal empire" as opposed to reality where he only makes under cover jabs about disengaging with being an "entitled corrupt legacy criminal" ie finding the bonny scot relics but does nothing about them, etc

-"strippers" 😂

-okay what is nancys obsession w her beanie?? bc her mom made it? "wear beanies do crimes?" idk

-making the call: nancy -unable to make up for lost time/both her mothers had to find out/suffer alone / in the Good Place nancy was able to be with kate while she called, and in reality she had carson; somethig about seeing the mother looking to the daughter for strength in the Good Place instead of the reverse (which is what reality sounded like, kate being strong for nancy through the illness despite the struggle)

-concept: nancy & nick "let's wait out the storm"

-"i believe that you believe it" nick in the Good Place + owen in reality both trust nancy when she says she's seen things (owen's is the teeth) but nick in reality (and not really knowing details) doesnt think much of their "moment" bc it wasnt real (so she had to leave the Good Place to save carson- but if she had known then he wasnt her real dad, would she have stayed to be w nick?)

-stranger - suede james 💙👌🏻

-"really anxious as a kid" v telling bc of her desire to know everything to remain in control of situations like she always does now

-"the medicine or the metaphysics?"/"you cannot beat supernatural with science"

-i love nancy playing with her pinky while saying goodbye 🥺

-"always seek out the truth even if it hurts" this is straight irony bc kate never told nancy anything. like does that include the truth about nancys parentage? they taught her to seek out the truth, but who taught her that the truth is the only thing to live by? ie things dont count anymore like carson and kate straight up raising her is tossed out bc she finds out its not "the truth" like all that work/stress to protect carson + she just drops him? with kate maybe shes just upset thst she spent all that time mourning for someone who lied. and would she do the same to ryan if needed? probably

-bess and ace head tilt 💙

-like how for all the time she spent there nancy only has a subconscious memory of blue curtains

-YESSSSS i LOVEthese beautiful overhead shots of hannah's hands. so out of character for the show lmao but so gorgeous

-i feel like future eps/grand future will be nancy going through the lock boxes to help people who asked hannah for help

-the video is officially dated Aug 22, 2019

-soooooo in the first ep nancy breaks into the hudsons house and finds tiffanys secret drawer w the nail polish and finds the amulet with a note that says "for your protection HG" yet on this video tiffany says she talked to a medium who gave her the amulet sooooo am i just confused? HG is hannah gruen obvi so is the address for the medium what hannah gave her? or was the address on the amulet which nancy dissolved in salt water to see? so how would tiffany know where to go? its chicken and the egg which came first hannah or the medium?

and lastly:

i close these two eps with a thought that everything in this show is sealed in death. all the lies, the imagery, the fake constructs people put up to get by all crumple the second someone dies- all the secrets come clean just like these doors have been unsealed.

[whiterbone-a]

i wanna know what your take on the nanami / gojo relationship is ?? cause a big part of me is like nanami isn't someone who really talks , like you won't get inside of him and he'll make jokes here and there with the whole work is shit thing . but i think he lost his heart and happiness alongside yuu and i think he even said this wasn't a mission first years should be on and the fact that yuu looked up to getou and gojo so much and still got killed was like a fucking blade to the stomach.

i mean do you think there is a romantic possability , i do play around with it but at the same time do you think it would be comforting ?? like i know the big ship is gojo and getou because of how close they were but what is nanami to gojo , a tool and a function or a friend and possible lover ??? and how will his death effect him ???

also were gojo actively smiles , nanami only smiles when death is around the corner and i am like red flags here and there . but sorry this got so long and please feel free to ignore it .

hello and welcome.  take a seat and thank you for joining me.  if this doesnt make sense just pretend u know what im talking about, its the adhd for making my thoughts so scattered everywhere

so in concept the nanami and gojou ship in a romantic concept is rly cute in concept like u have an ex - salary man whos serious doesnt allow himself the luxury of acting his age but on the other end u have someone who still acts like hes a child and never takes anything serious even when hes fighting.  they both endured the trauma being a jujutsu sorcerer entails yet they have nothing in common -- gojou dresses like hes a reflection with the moon and nanami, the sun.  also the fact that gojou thinks that he, himself, is ascended above all he works with while nanami is just a human living his day to day, and lot of ppl use this as nanami to bring down gojou to his morality just like a nudge or a friendly reminder.  he even tolerates and puts up with him a lot more than he should.  hes very patient but very honest.  a lot of the fanart of them is SO CUTE esp when theyre married and living happily with one another.  i even ship them, its actually one of my top ships next to satosugu but like in reality its not so great unfortunately

honestly?  theres a small slim of a possibility but due to the nature of the clash of personalities and what their job its like ... not rly possible

nanami, even out of being a salary man, fully treats being a jujutsu sorcerer as a 9 - 5 job and refuses to work overtime. he has small luxuries like he enjoys reading and eating left overs after a day of working hard like who wouldnt and not to mention hes the type to keep his relationships strictly professional. gojou has probably asked him several times to take him out for drinks after work (altho work never ends with gojou which is ironic) and has said no.  it’s funny now that i think about it,  shouko probably asks him for an occasional drink after hours and he accepts because at least he likes shouko and he knows theres no ulterior motive from her just a couple of coworkers doing some heavy drinking but nothing ever more than that -- hes even said that he wants to get married but when hes no longer a sorcerer

sucks tho, because like everyone else, nanami sees gojou as someone who is extremely powerful and only sees him for his techniques except more like hes a nuisance and extremely annoying, even to the point of having absolutely no respect for him.  he realizes, yeah hes strong but as for the full package that is satoru gojou?  there’s absolutely nothing to respect about that man

and while we’re talking about gojou, i’ll say it, he’s mentally unstable.  i mean, we all knew that -- hes got a couple of “screws loose” as he puts it inside that rattling brain of his.  on the opposite side of the spectrum, hes not capable of handling a romantic relationship.  hes always always busy, its rare that that he gets a breather for himself.  hes always being sent out on missions out of country and ive always portrayed gojou as the type of partner thats not even gentle on his partners in terms of being playful, childish, and being a nuisance.  his mental health is absolutely terrible (i’m not saying nanamis is any better but) hes always acted much younger than what he is altho i do blame his upbringing for that.

and gojou treats everyone as good friends but does like to particularly pick on ppl who take themselves too seriously (nanami and utahime), mei mei and yuki are exempt from this.  he also doesnt rly care for ichiji but like, that doesnt matter LOL.

i do see nanami eventually giving in for one (1) after dinner ‘date’ after work but when gojou is actually less himself, hes tolerable to be around which isnt saying much tbh.  you should def listen to the nanami and gojou drama audio if u can!  they’re so fucking funny as a pair, which solidifies them as being cute but were not talking about that rn.

in terms of being ‘what are they’ to each other, its hard to tell.  i talked about it briefly as nanami reminding him of his morality and being his humility tho gojou doesnt act like it, he fully believes hes above all and everyone, lovers and close friends are included in this.  i read a lot of nana/go fanfics and they portray nanami as someone to push down his ego;  to remind him hes actually Not all that great, a child in an adults body, etc.  he’s a brutality honest man and gojou can take critic and criticisms to his person but that doesnt mean hes going to listen (and he doesnt, hes even self aware that his personality sucks ass but does he bother to change?  absolutely not and he wont start now nor for anyone else).

yuu did definitely help nanami change and shift his ideas about the world, esp hating the jujutsu society afterwards.  like, i dont blame u king, it sucks ass.  tho, i dont think nanami looked up or cared for gojou and getou that much.  getou he looked up to more so because at least hes as a respectable guy, strong, good looking, and stimulates intellectual conversations.  gojou?  not so much.  nanami probably thought that it doesnt matter if u have techniques that is extremely rare to acquire and even more so to master but u suck ass and u dont stimulate joy to be around.

nanami is a good friend and high school buddy to gojou and nanami would definitely call him ‘coworker’ or something along those lines when hes annoyed him too much or doesnt want gojou to benefit too much from simple acknowledgement.  gojou thinks hes an ascended being but he definitely respects and finds nanami to be a strong sorcerer and was rather surprised when he took the 9 - 5 job but it was definitely safer.

death ... ah, i think about this all the time.  it’s like losing suguru all again except he didnt go rogue and kill a whole village.  hes absolutely confident in nanamis abilities to fend off curses and hes too stubborn to let himself die as well, so the idea of him dying doesnt ever cross his mind.  thats a true stab to the gut to hear that nanami has died, maybe a moment of truly being unhinged and a darker nature but we wont rly know until it happens in the manga, which i cant wait.  i mean, at least mei mei, utahime, and shouko are around but this is nanami were talking about.  if this was in terms of a romantic relationship rather than a simple seemingly one - sided friendship of enjoying of being around that person but that person just tolerating him and hoping he goes away eventually.  i can’t say, i can’t say!  just take these thoughts with like a grain of salt.

also that last statement in the ask, gojous smiles are fake and a mask while the rare times nanami does smile, its genuine.

regardless of what i said, i think it can be a comfy ship!  this ship isnt toxic but any means (unless u make it toxic then well, thats a you thing) so just enjoy it!  i know i do i think as long as u recognize that maybe neither of them being a relationship would benefit the other then go stupid go crazy, i know i will.

[irkenheretic]

okay i promised id do it and im doing it: Explaining The Plot Of That AU I’m Vague About: The Post

(as i was preparing to write this i actually got my 250th follower, which slapped)

so i’m just gonna start with the simple version, which is this: it’s a rebel AU which primarily centers around the tallest, who are both defective. they give up on trying to make any meaningful changes as figureheads, and instead direct their attention to being involved with the “neo defect revolution,” or NDR. they do manage to make one change as tallest- there is a garbage dump planet turned into a sanctuary for defectives (who in this au are executed once discovered,) and eventually enough of the populace finds out about it that the tallest have to deal with it. they finesse their way into kicking it out of the empire, so now it’s its own planet with its own rules, governments, and most importantly, immigration policies and protections

a lot of stuff happens and it’s gonna be structured using arcs, and each arc has a separate protagonist/deuteragonist/tritagonist lineup (but that doesnt mean the same lineup won’t be used multiple times!) and yes the insane list of OCs are for this au alone: some arcs are very OC-centric, some have OCs as supporting characters, and a couple are all-OC or mostly-OC. 

its going to be very longform and it’ll span from the tallest’s elite training days to twenty years after zim arrives on earth. (the 20 year gap btwn zim arriving on earth and the story proper isnt as tightly plotted as later tho.) the point is to see how a revolution on the scale of the NDR works, who was fucked over by defact laws, who was fucked over by other laws, etc. theres a lot of lore and a lot of headcanons i made for this AU and even a conlang. i am a being of hubris. itll be a series of fics, some multichapter and some oneshots. 

the series as a whole is gonna be called Invader Zim: Annexed or just Annexed for short. its a pun on an irken word that sounds similar but means the exact opposite. i am not explaining more bc itll be explained in the fic itself. but thats why the tag for it is #anx lmao

i didnt mean for this to be as long as it got but under the cut im gonna breakdown some of the early arcs:

so it all starts with a fanfic called Love Is The H-Word (no the “h-word” isn’t “hell.) it centers around red and purple as elites-in-training, who do a little whoopsie and have an egg. purple doesnt wanna smuggle it into a smeetery, bc then he’ll never see it again, so they go to the defect sanctuary (still a part of the empire at this point.) purple knows he’s defective while red has a hard time accepting that he is as well, due to events from his past. but being around all these other defects are starting to wear down his denial, and the fic is all about that. it also sets up some plot stuff, like how defects adopted a self-identifier in the word “heretic,” hence the sanctuary being named, “heretirk.” (hey look my url!) (no, the “h-word” is not heretic, either.) 

i dont wanna say what happens in that fic bc spoilers, but stuff Happens. its also when we meet some ocs that end up being important, and the existence of others are foreshadowed. this is also where we meet the tallests’ future advisor, rarl kove, for the first time, as a local who decides to keep them company. purple bonds with kove due to their shared interest in politics, while red reluctantly bonds with titch, a young irken (a smeet in heretirken standards, an adult in imperial standards- did i mention he and red are roughly the same age? lol) who is interested in military stuff and thrill-seeking and general destruction. titch is pissed because he claims his father is stealthing on devastis as a military commander, but won’t let titch sneak in as a soldier, as titch is deaf. 

(fun facts: in the au, “titch” is regional slang for “a little bit.” ironically, titch the character is above-average in height.)

due to titch’s deafness, he developed “gesturespeak,” irken sign language, so he can communicate. this existing becomes important later

a oneshot called invade the system is right after h-word in publishing order. it details zim’s exploits in leaving foodcourtia, where he was assigned and infiltrating the invading academy he eventually graduates from (in this au, zim is too short to be an invader, which sucks because the hight minimums for the military are really short to begin with lmao)

the fic chronoligically after H-Word focuses on red and purple being back in their platoon on devastis, specifically red navigating his training and his relationships with two defective platoonmates, pon and zi (who are in h-word a little,) after the realization that he too is defective. it also focuses on how the irken military works, and how they train their soldiers. 

the first arc overall focuses on red and purple going thru training and such, and ends after they graduate and are on the field, working to get commander rank. (they planned to gain commander rank then leave and go back to heretirk to train an army there, as heretirk has.... no army.) in the middle of this, they’re pulled out and told they are to become the next tallest. they debate over staying and taking the job or just running to heretirk, and they ultimately decide to stay.

the next arc i call the “bridge,” tbh. its less tightly plotted than the other arcs; fics are spread apart from each other chronologically and all that. it spans the time after the tallest being appointed to a little after zim arrives on earth. it also has a couple of anthologies focusing on imperial defects- each chapter is a new character. these guys are all important and the easiest way for me to introduce their backstories without cluttering everything up is anthology style, lmao. other things that happen are a look into how the tallest work, eventually culminating with the resolution of the tallest having to Deal With Heretirk, tenn’s rescue from meekrob, and zim on earth obtaining a half-irken smeet named pip due to stealing an Unethical Science Experiment from dib (which is pip.) the bridge is basically just. “heres some stuff that happens between point A and point B so when we get to point B you’re not confused as all hell.” 

the next arc focuses on zim. in the first fic, pip is sick and zim is trying to get into his neighbor’s pants, to cope. this basically sets up that zim in this au has no idea how to find personal fulfillment in living- he’s only OK if he focuses on pleasing someone else, be it taking care of pip or doting on the neighbor, some rando human named piqu (pronounced, “peek.”) this is mainly a cute romance story with the underlying veneer of “a child is slowly and painfully dying” in the background. fun! 

without spoiling the circumstances, zim and pip end up on heretirk, which at this point is its own independent planet. pip is in the hospital for most of it so zim has to do his own thing. computer fans rejoice bc hes basically zims dad at this point, who tells him to go outside and get some fresh air and talk to the locals instead of schmooping or screaming in anxiety. im sneakily introducing more characters like ini, the “next-gen zim;” a short bio-engineer (she works on PAKs) who was constantly passed over by everyone because they dont trust someone that short or they dont trust someone that spazzy, even though shes actually brilliant. also her brother mo, who’s a pilot that NOBODY will teach military-class ships to (at this point, HTK has a population of ex-military that had their old ships, but still no formal army) because he doesnt talk and they think hes “slow” as a result. for the curious, he is physically able to talk most times, he just doesnt like it. zim ends up teaching him how to fly military-class which ends up being important laterrr

(haha ini and mo. wheres meenie and minie? ILL GET TO THEM)

no really, theyre quadruplets. named ini, myni, minie, and mo. these are real characters. 

minie isnt introduced till later. shes too cool to be the side character in someone elses arc. she is feel uncomfortable when we are not about her.

myni is busy palling around with pip and pip’s friend “elly” (real name elevenn, with two N’s.) elly is a half-meekrob War Crime Baby and tenn’s smeet. he has vision problems (he can “see” energy signatures of things, as opposed to conventional sight. everything is monochrome and he has to really focus to see like, words on a paper. also fuck tablets) but the trade-up is telekinetic powers (that he cant use too much or his brain will melt. fun!) this isnt relevant until the arc AFTER zim’s, where they end up poking around a historical site due to myni’s interest in that kind of thing, and they find logs of an old revolution (that was actually pretty successful in their goal, before they were caught and executed,) that lead them to a man named lefy. he helps with revolutions and helped these guys, and the trio go to seek him out; myni because he wants to impress his parents with helping them, pip because after they’ve recovered enough to walk around and do stuff, feel like they need to justify the choice to save their life and make their dad proud and all that, elly because he doesnt want pip to get hurt and die. And thats where the stuff REALLY starts happening and i cant tell u more sorry

this seemed kind of disjointed but thats bc i cant really be too detailed otherwise id like.... spoil it lmfao. but thats the summary of the first few arcs.

[avellanas-nutty-empire]

Every day I hate the usa even more than the last

(This is a vent, ignore if u want)

When people were talking about the recent supreme court members death, I thought it would all be fine. I dont know literaly anything about them, and I generally dont understand my own emotions enough to grieve for someone like that.

But I went on instagram

And all the posts made me feel as though I'm being crushed by a mixture of negative emotions I rarely feel like this. Negative emotions so powerful and raw I feel I'm being literally crushed.

I feel as if I'm being literally crushed.

This is especially the worst since I dont understand my own emotions enough to heal from the pain and resolve them and move on from them properly. I'm stuck. These will forever linger, fractions of being healed, ready to crush me another time.

I made a lil angst post thing for Anna of my ABC girls oc's in which she also suffers from the inability to understand her own emotions. But in reality, that's just a fragment reflection of me. Except the details are solidified - a peace of mind I fear I will never have.

Trump is the third president to ever become impeached, and that alone says a fuck ton. He tries to build a wall, that would damage the ecosystem, solve nothing, and waist money. Then he does next to nothing about covid, using China as an escape goat while a ton of other countries handle it all much better than he does. Then the west coast fires get practically ignored. I have a suit case packed just for fucks sake because if theres one thing 2020 taught me, it's that shit can and will get worse REAL fast. I've been living with yellow smokey ash skies for the past few weeks and this morning at 4am, it rained a good rain for the first time long before the fires started. I was excited and happy for it. It even rained recently AGAIN while I was at work. It gave me hope. Hope that has swiftly been crushed.

Even if the fires get solved, the govornment will not. Trump holds his place in office like a tyrant, bragging about fighting for more terms in office than legally possible. Covid is still a thing, no matter how less officials have cranked down on social distancing. Other countries are out there PAYING people to stay inside. But everyone in the states will just complain and shut down that idea because "oh, we dont have the funds for it. The country is in enough debt already" yeah. Why are you building a wall then. Trump has SIGNIFICANTLY raised that debt since he joined office. Why are we letting a man who has his own history or bankruptcy on SEVERAL occasions be president? Our debt should be going down, not up.

The usa likes to preach to high heavens that it's the best country when in fact, its super NOT. And THATS one of the big problems. Much like a racist insisting "I'm not racist, it's just a joke" or something simular, no progress is gonna get made. People just get mad when our poor countries quality gets pointed out and refuse to see the truth. Then they look back over the constitution written over 100 years ago and recite it like the bible for worshiping practice.

We need to rewrite our constitution like MANY other countries have done SEVERAL times, and stop worrying about what a dead person MEANT when PURPOSLY being vague when writing the constitution because it was supposed to be open for change. But nothing about the United states is open for change. This country needs to get off its fucking high horse, and I need to move to canada

Except that's WAY easier said than done. I want to teach high school math, but I'm p sure you need a degree in french to teach ANYWHERE in canada (especially Quebec, but that's on the other side of the country so I think I'm good). I SUCK at learning vocab and had a hard enough time with my 2 years of spanish class. How am I supposed to get a degree in french?

The college I'm attending has study abroad programs I could participate in, and I have considered transferring to a canadian college if mine doesnt become in person soon, but god knows when that's gonna actually become possible again. I want to do in depth research on teaching requirements and scout out schools in canada and talk with my college supervisor and stuff about it all, but theres no point untill covid ends. I would say to just cross that bridge when I come to it, but the land behind me is rapidly disappearing faster than I can aproach the bridge.

Besides, isnt the canadian boarder still closed? What about my job down here? I dont have money to move to canada. And I dont have the confidence to do it because my mom hindered my progress in becoming a fully functioning adult who can leave the house without a backpack full of shit I wont actually need unless I'm roughing it in the wilderness. What college would even accept me and allow me to transfer my current credits anyways?

All I know is the United States of america is a toxic country that is bad for my health, and I am not ok.

[pottedfairies]

ive been like. trying to envision myself in all the career options im thinking about and theres so many like i cld be a capital w Writer, a professional editor, a teacher/professor, edu researcher, speech writer, commercial/screen writer or i cld drop everything to be a housewife and out of all the options the only one i dont have any experience in is commercial/screen writing and its the one i think id have the most fun in djfhgdukskjhygkujhs like i have never wanted to be a capital w Writer bc thats full of elitism and id like to not rub elbows with ppl who will only publish u if u go wine tasting with them. and editing is like easy for me?? but also boring as FUCK i know theres jobs out there for that tho and i keep circling back to it anyway i shld just buy adobe indesign smh. if i get my teaching credential i can do it so easy i know ill like the kids but i dont think i want to teach anymore like dgbfkuyjhdks i wANT TO i enjoy teaching and education is still the most important thing to me but idk!!!! theres so much abt it that needs changing and idk if id ever wanna go into traditional avenues for teaching like so far all the times ive taught ive been in extracurricular programs/not govt affiliated programs and those seem to allow more fun for the kids so if i teach id wanna do smth like that BUT ALSO private schools r the worst creation ever id rather pull out my eyes than teach in a private school and research is good and all and creates those avenues for change that i want to see in education but it seems so stiff and flavorless like i LOVE to read edu theory and stuff and to create smth like that would be BALLER as FUCK but also oh my god imagine researching something for 12 years and writing 300 pages just to say “kids are autonomous people and education is eurocentric and art is healing.” and speech writing is just so goddamn boring lol also i hate writing in voices of white men rip [redacted] i know u think u can keep me around but i have OTHER PLANS but also hes already paying me so like HMMMMMMMMMMM money is good also his white money connections could get me to places that my name and hijab wouldnt otherwise having a white man in ur pocket rlly helps if u wanna do media writing BUT LIKE the shit i have the MOST fun with is creating stuff with and for kids so script/screenwriting for childrens shows and media sounds SPECTACULAR bc books r fun and all but i love love love the ways in which visual media interacts with the written and esp bc barbie was so formative for me as a kid like cultivating that whimsy and passion for joy is so important to me as a sad kid but also for other kids to connect to and idk!!!! maybe i never matured properly bc i still love to and prefer to watch shows/movies aimed at children but!!! they just are so much better and always treat the characters with so much more care than shows aimed at adults AND IDK IDK IDK this is fuyckign scary!! bc i always thought i was gonna teach/do research so i only know grad schools and stuff for edu and i think!! i want an MFA now!! in screenwriting!!! AND I HAVE ZERO EXPERIENCE AND IM FUCKING SCARED likeduifbhkhdj i have to change all my plans and start from fresh and i dont kndiubj i dont know if this is the right path!! AND I HATE THAT I FEEL PRESSURED TO CHOOSE ONLY ONE PATH LIKE WHAT THE FUCK ID LIKE TO DO MANY THINGS but also screenwriting still gives me opportunity to publish individual work and i can still hold writing workshops and stuff so this is the path with the most Options but i cant shake that my undergrad profs and stuff always told me that the Best writing is heartwrenchingly personal and not commercial at all so im trying to unlearn that but god is it hard 

[zhuhongs]

Just finished my teaching job and I have Thots. p1

Okay so I I was saying how tired I was and how not suited to being a teacher I was this past few weeks but I really enjoyed this. I want to do this camp again next year but idk if I can be of my study abroad schedule but who knows.

Overall, I loved the kids and I admit it was a lot of me not knowing what to do as a teacher and being tired and a lot less of them being bad kids. Idk I feel like I want to do it again and do it right.

I was too tired and too I'll prepared to be a good teacher this year and I think I can easily do better next time.

I legit loved all my students and idk I do like kids I just was too burnt out this month and it wasn't fair to them. Some of them I did want to throttle but it be like that. As tired as I was, I will miss it.

The last day was very bittersweet. I wish I could have them all over again but also i wouldn't hesitate to smack some of them with some rolled up and aper. Idk. It's a mixed bag.

I dont think I'll pursue education but it's a fun change of pace fs.

Also I think a lot of these kids rlly need to see positive role models that look like them. So many of my students are low income Hispanic families and I was the same so I rlly feel for them.

Recently I learned abt how one kids mother was killed by his dad and his dad is in jail. And how so many of them have parents in jail or dead and I just.. wow. Today I learned that the sweetest kid who always calls me mom and give the tightest hugs was abused by his father and my heart fucking Broke dude. That kid is so cute and loveable I just. Idk man I just want to help them and show them that the adults in their lives care. They rlly do. And they deserve positive role models and so much love and i.. idk it's just a little too real. I wanna see them grow up happy and have a good life and not fall into toxic mindsets. And I it might go over their heads but I just want to try bc so many ppl have given up on them and I dont want that. Idk. I'm just a little emotional. I'll miss them. Most of them. Some of them I would be fine never teaching again and that's ok.

Also this job has taught me not to undervalue my labor bc I got paid so well for very little work and yea... I'm like 🤔🤔 at Marshall's rn. Also theres so much waste in these programs omg. I legit got so much free stuff at the end bc no one used the supplies.... and the kids gave us a lot of thank u gifts like.. bruh. I think that's the Hispanic in them and honestly I love Hispanic culture. Like sidebar, but I've rlly seen how Hispanic kids and parents look out for their own and are so giving and mi corazon is so full. I love my culture sm.

On a completely different note, seeing how the kids love my art makes me want to do more art and improve but I just dont have the motivation. I wish I did. Maybe I'll find it soon. Idk. Either way I'm just feeling some sorta way abt a lot of things.

[taketheringtolohac]

simon for the ask game!

jshkajhja god victor i love him so much thank u for sending me this ok here we go (sidenote i know theres ppl who follow me who havent finished dd so if you dont want to get spoiled dont read this!! i talk about a LOT of spoilers!)

send me a character ask and i’ll answer!

favorite thing about them ok so heres the thing. i know that there is a lot to be said about him and just the way that he does like genuienly care for people even if he has a funny way of showing it but honestly? honestly? i LOVE a funny king. like his own brand of humor is just so good and when he laughs (at his own jokes, like a real Uncle Figure) he laughs with his WHOLE BODY which. yes king go get em. also hes sexy <3 not in a rat kinda way but he LOOKS like he should be just, outwardly, but simon blackquill himself is just a HOT MAN. yes im a lesbian and what about it.

least favorite thing about them this isnt about him but you know when aa fandom makes him a weeb? bad. stop calling urself/other ppl weebs in 2021 especially if u arent using the term critically/as a way to talk about ppl who fetishize Japanese culture tho most ppl who call themselves weebs dont realize theyre doing this anyways which. ok this isnt the post for this im just (rightfully) Mad

favorite line its not exactly a LINE, per say, bc i dont remember a lot of them, but remember when he shakes athena in SOJ and its like that kermit strangling meme? top 10 ace attorney moments EASILY

brOTP LITERALLY ATHENA AND SIMON BROTP LIVES IN MY BRAIN AT ALL TIMES LIKE theres so much healing that they both have to do from the 7/8 years since the incident and focusing on literally just that one incident and how to fix it (or in his case how to just like. live with it in a lot of ways) and they do some of it together but some of it they very much do NOT do together and i think like the setting boundaries that they do is just. its good. also i love the idea that he lived with her for a while after he was released like. just from a general perspective i love them sort of being a patchwork family but also just imagine being 18 and living on your own then suddenly you invite your 33 year old uncle to live with you who’s been in prison for the past 8 years. he doesnt rlly know how the world works from a cultural perspective and you dont know what its like from a “how do i use a can opener” perspective. together you’re a functioning adult.

OTP honestly i see him as very gay man in his 30s bachelor just living his post prison life and figuring stuff out but i’d be lying to myself if i said i didn’t read nahyuta/simon fics that shit is cute as FUCK and also ppl do a really good job of writing them like??? its about the understanding whats its like to go through an incredibly fucked up situation and not feeling the need to EXPLAIN yourself but to just understand that its beyond your control sometimes and gently helping them through without being making it about you because YOU wouldnt want that and. yeah.

nOTP if you ship simon with the phantom i’m knives out IMMEDIATELY i understand the want for angst but it makes me uncomfy and man has already been through enough please. also You Know What Else. i will not say it but it should be self explanatory.

random headcanon him and aura were REALLY close pre UR-1 incident. like i think they had a lot of issues but i think its just because they probably had to raise themselves in a lot of ways and pretty much really only looked out for each other for awhile. i like to think that he visited the space center a lot bc he was visiting her and thats how he got to meet metis and he was like huh maybe i could use this physcological stuff in court hmm and like thats how he became her student but i ALSO think that aura is just. SO mad at him for what he did about UR-1 and how he handled it because now SHE has to be alone and its not fair to him and she knows its not but she can’t help herself. Not just that but Simon hates seeing her lose it a little every time she visits him (which is often, he doesn’t get many visitors and even if he did he’d ALWAYS take her visits bc he misses her even if they don’t see eye to eye they’re all they’ve GOT) and just. seeing her become more cold and somehow thinking maybe its his fault and her not knowing if she does think its his in some ways but them still loving each other even if they have funny ways of showing it just UGH!!!

unpopular opinion he doesnt talk all posh why do ppl do that he’s literally a funny garbage man who like kinda hates himself a bit. also yes he’s emo but i think he would absolutely ROCK a printed neon button up with like. really loud socks specifically stupid steel samurai/anime socks. ik i said dont call him a weeb but theres a difference between liking anime/samurai/japanese culture and being weird about it. also he’s Japanese die mad about it

song i associate with them god i dont know i dont really listen to music but i GUESS i will say Mike Townsend (Knows What He’s Gotta Do) by the Garages because they’re very similar “i’m gonna do what I think is right to protect/save this other person and these people I care about even if the consequences are extremely detrimental to me”

favorite picture of them i will not say the simon shaking sprite again but you know that funky one with the bird? the one where he’s got taka just. perched on his arm. perfect photo i use it for everything <3