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[mrmicron]

Golden Child (Chapter 1)

This is my first time posting a story that is split into chapters on here. I’m not sure if this will gain any attention, but it wouldn’t hurt to see if it does. There may be some grammatical errors and linguistic errors as well, so feel free to message me and tell me in the ways I messed up! The languages this chapter will contain is Mexican Spanish (with translations provided by my Mexican ride-or-die!) and American English. It might include others, but for the majority of the story line, it’s those two. 

I would love to be able to turn this into a comic eventually, but I’d either have to find an artist to collab with or work on my art skills lol. This is intended for a Young-Adult audience, so anyone under 14, please DNI

Word Count: 1302

All characters are original. Any relations to a person are purely coincidental. 

CW: Mentions of Sexual Harassment, Implied Abusive Relationships, Light Sexual Themes, Violence Against Others, Thoughts of Suicide, Self-Harm, Cursing, Attempted Suicide

 DNI if you are sensitive to these topics

The sound of an alarm woke me from my deep sleep. I groaned into my pillow as I rolled over, swatting my hand around to turn off the annoyance. After a few attempts, I proved successful and turned back into my covers. But, my sleep was short-lived as footsteps approached my door. “Awake from your coma Sleeping Beauty,” called a feminine voice, light, and teasing. I knew it was my mom, so I ignored it. The click of the doorknob reverberated through the room, and something hard hit my back. I yelped and turned around. “What the hell?!” My mom stood a few feet away from me, her arms crossed across her chest, a frown on her face. “You heard me. And I heard the alarm go off, then it stopped. Besides, you have school today mija.” Hispanic moms are something else, and I’m not planning on starting off the day with a sore ass. “Sì Mamì…” I mumbled, sliding out of my comfort space. She turned towards the door and sighed. “Children these days, no respect.” As she headed downstairs, I grabbed my uniform and went into the bathroom to shower. I’d be starting a new school today, for the third time. Apparently, it was the best school in the state, AKA, my last chance. Marie-Jane Academia for the Gifted. It was a private school with a low acceptance rate, and if you were enrolled, you had a guaranteed shot of getting into an Ivy League School. All the more reason for me to go, right? Wrong. It was totally against my will, but seeing as it was my last choice, I had no say. The warm water ran down my body and I released a sigh. My hands ran through my hair, scrubbing the previous day’s filth from my scalp.

After I stepped out of the shower, it didn’t take long for me to dress. Since Marie-Jane is a uniform school, I wouldn’t have to try and figure out what to wear. Although I hated not having creative expression for my clothes, it did feel nice to not throw on some random clothing from my laundry hamper, which I prayed was clean. The smell of bacon drifted into my nose, and my body just moved. I bounded down the stairs, sliding into the kitchen on wheels. A small orange bottle flew through the air and I caught it, quickly popping open the lid and grabbing a small red pill. I tossed it into my mouth and swallowed it dry. It had become routine, me taking my suppressants, that I can just swallow it dry. Mamì slid the last of the eggs from the pan onto my plate. My lunch box sat next to my breakfast. “Buenos Dìaz my beautiful daughter,” she cooed, resting her elbows on the counter as I slid into my seat at the kitchen island. “Morning Mom…” I replied hesitantly before picking up a piece of bacon. Chewing slowly, I kept my gaze on the plate below me. What could she want from me this morning? It’s only 7. “Mija, you're aware this is the last school you can attend, correct?”  Her tone made me feel like I was 7 again, which pissed me off. “I’m well aware, actually. I didn’t want to go there, but alas, I’ve been enrolled,” I replied sarcastically, crunching on my bacon once again. Damn, this is burnt. Eyebrows furrowing, mom pulled the plate towards her. “Don’t make me throw something at you. You’ll go to school with a welt in the shape of a shoe.” She waited a few moments before pushing the food back to me. Sighing, I stood up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Yes ma’am.” Well, now I wasn’t hungry, but still choked down and swallowed the rest. I wasn’t looking forward to my commute to school. It was a 20 minute drive, and knowing my rusty car, it would probably break down on the way. Can’t complain though, at least I have some mode of transportation besides a bike. Grabbing my keys and hat, I opened the door. “Heading out now!” I called, stepping out. “Try not to run any pedestrians over this time,” she responded, chuckling. “No promises.”

My car shook from the intensity of the bass from my speakers as I belted along with the music playing loudly. Singing gave me a sense of tranquility and calmed my nerves down a bit. I rarely have first day jitters, but apparently, since this school is my last option, my mind wants to fill itself with the worst possible scenarios. I made a promise to my mom, and my previous school’s counselor that I would try to be on my best behavior. Now that I think about it, that was a bad idea. I will definitely fight someone here, but who? That’s to be determined for my future. As I rounded the corner a block away, my eyes widened at the glistening building before me. I knew my school would be rich, but damn, it’s a whole apartment complex. I was to move into the dorms here, per my mother’s demand. Maybe more space to crochet. We could leave campus whenever, as long as we came back before curfew, which just means we can’t leave our buildings past 11. That wouldn’t be an issue since I don’t plan on leaving campus besides visiting Mami. The main building sat in the front, which also made it hard to miss. I was almost blinded by the damn thing. Students were trickling in slowly by the time I parked. Adjusting my tie, I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder and walked through the double doors. Voices echoed through the corridor as groups of students, ranging from 9th to 12th, chatted amongst themselves. “Where’s the damn office…” I mumbled softly, looking around. My eyes caught on a person waving, and at first, I thought they were waving at someone else, so I ignored them. But then they called my name. “Ashton! Over here!” I snapped my head back to see them walking over, a smile on their face. Eventually, they stopped a few inches from me, extending their hand. I took in his facial features. Skin as pale as a porcelain doll, lips as red as a geisha, hair as black as the night sky. All I could think was, ‘He’s beautiful.’ “I’m Indria, but everyone calls me Indie. I’ll be your guide for today.” He smiled brightly. As we shook hands, I tilted my head. “Well you already know my name, so where to go first?”

Indie talked a lot, more than I was used to. As he talked, I found out his whole life story within 5 minutes. It was a lot of information in such a short amount of time, but that didn’t stop him. Eventually, we arrived at my first period, which I wasn’t even paying attention to how we got there in the first place. “Well, here’s your stop! What’s your number, so I can be of assistance anytime.” He hands me his phone and I wearily type in my number. Yes, it was for a good reason, but nonetheless, it was weird how forward he was. Once I was done, he sent me a text to make sure it was my number and smiled brightly. “It was nice meeting you Ashton! Feel free to message me if you need anything else.” He then walked away, and I watched until he was out of sight. This school was already going to be a pain in my ass, but I wasn’t sure how yet. It just was. The classroom buzzed with students talking to one another, so the majority of my first period was already inside. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

[mrmicron]

There had been much debate within your mind on whether there are gods for everything or not. Personally, you didn’t really care either way, but a recent overheard conversation led to this internal argument. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the dresser that stood next to your door, so by default, you stubbed your toe. In a world of pain, you let out a string of very specific curses. As you rubbed the affected area, a poof of grey smoke appeared suddenly, startling you. A very handsome man stood before you. He was dressed in a crimson-red suit with a black tie and high cut converses. Not the look you’d expect some one to be in with a suit. An orange halo rested atop his head, causing a few questions. “Ah, the pain of a stubbed toe,” he spoke in a low tone. “Often compared to being hit with a door or hitting your elbow.” A confused frown crossed your face. “Um- politely, who in the hell are you exactly?” A quiet chuckle came from the mysterious man as he leaned against the nearby wall. “As ridiculous as it sounds, I’m the god of stubbed toes,” he bowed slightly. “You may call me Alistair though.” You stood straight, examining the male. He certainly doesn’t seem like a ‘god’, but he did appear from a poof of smoke so there’s not really another explanation other than he’s just a really good magician that uses his magic for breaking into households. “I can tell there are doubts, but rest assured, I’m not lying to you. What would be the purpose?”

They always say there’s a god for everything. You didn’t expect this one though.

[mrmicron]

The Phone Booth

The phone booth that resides on the edge of the marsh has a story, passed down through generations. Some say that it once stood in the middle of an old city, lost through time. Others say that it’s a secret passageway to a forgotten cove. Well, this story will reveal the truth about those rumors. Around 100 years ago, there once was a small town, with a very small population. The phone booth stood in the middle of said town. People ignored it, not really knowing what it was. The fear of even looking at it gave an eerie feeling to those who did.  The townsfolk swore that they could hear a voice of a little boy, asking for help.  No one knew who it was or why it did speak. All they knew was to stay away from it. Now kids obviously didn’t listen to their elders and they played inside. One afternoon, a little girl and her family approached the farmer’s market, which happened to be close to the phone booth. As they passed it, she glanced at it. Her mother had warned her not to go near it but never explained why. Naturally, she wasn’t going to listen. Slipping away while her parents were viewing the produce, the little girl approached the booth. She opened the door and the phone inside began to ring.  Her interest piqued, she carefully closed the door and lifted the phone from its holder. Staring at the phone, the girl tilted her head.

“Hello!” a voice spoke eagerly. 

Her eyes widened in surprise. To the girl, it sounded like a younger boy, around five. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve spoken to someone. Do you think you could keep me company,” he asked, his voice full of sorrow. “Um- Okay!” The girl replied. She didn’t want the boy on the phone to be lonely, so they spoke, talking about a variety of topics.  Before they knew it, the sky had begun to darken as dusk arrived. The girl took notice and frowned slightly. “I should go. My mom might be worried!” The boy sighed wearily. “Aw, I really liked talking to you. Why don’t you stay for a bit longer?” The phone booth began to shake, sending the girl into a panic. “Better yet,” the boy’s voice got deeper and raspier, “why not stay with me forever!” By then, the phone booth was shaking so violently that the phone slipped from her hand. As soon as she let go, the shaking stopped. She took the opportunity to scamper out, but when she did, she was greeted by a barren marsh. Not a trace of the town she once lived in. Turning back to the phone booth, her skin paled a ghostly white. It was run down, covered in rust, moss, and vines. The girl trembled with confusion and fear, tears rolling down her cheeks. An anguished wail reverberated in her throat. She was all alone, no sign of human life. No one to hold and comfort her, no place to call home, and no one to hear her screams.

[mrmicron]

I think mine was either Ghost Stories or Naruto. I personally didn’t watch death note until about a year later.

I’m also from the US

That post about death note being "everyone's first anime" (untrue statement) made me curious and now I want to gather data for science

Can you reblog this and tell me where are you from and what was your starter anime?

[mrmicron]

just want to have some reassurance-

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

[mrmicron]

Sleeping W/ TBHK Characters

At first, Hanako will keep his distance when nodding off, not wanting to end up leaning on you and making you feel uncomfortable

You end up noticing after a while and sit him down for a brief conversation, expressing that it was okay if he fell asleep on your shoulder or lap

As you as you give the green light, he’ll often hug you tight in bed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck

On the couch, he’ll stretch out like a cat and lie on your lap, a bright smile on his lips

Nene will cuddle with you, not matter the occasion

She likes to play with your hair as you doze off

Whether it be fussing with your hair, clothing, or even your hands, sleep manages to take over when she does it

Nene prefers to hug you while she sleeps, imagining you as a stuffed bear

Kou is definitely a shy one

Much like Hanako, he’ll be tentative at first about sleeping on you, not sure if you’ll mind

Lucky for him, you initiate by lying on his lap and smiling up at him

He’ll blush madly before stroking your hair softly, humming

He may be a shy one, but Kou sure is affectionate

Kou will never admit this, but without you there by his side, he doesn’t sleep very well

None of them do, which is why they try and sleep near you as often as possible

[mrmicron]

i keep drawing the same damn mushroom on my papers and they are slowly taking over every assignment/test i turn in

[mrmicron]

Asking for Directions

Genre: one-shot, fluff

Pairing: Izuku x Reader

Warning: Some grammatical errors

Notes: internal monologue, “speaking”

The building towered over Y/N, giving an intimidating feel. Compared to other educational facilities, this one takes the cake. Students walked around, muttering insults that they were standing in the way. The uniform felt a bit tacky, but they did get issued the boy’s uniform. The last thing they ever wanted was to wear a skirt. 

Too feminine for my taste, they thought.

After a few minutes, they managed to get their body moving inside. The hallways were large in width and height as if someone over 9’0 was attending. Kids chatted as they made their way to class. Placing a hand on their chest and centering her breathing, Y/N looked at their schedule. Their homeroom was a first-year classroom. St. Mary Jane’s applied for their transfer after a particular incident led to their expulsion. At least the VP was nice enough to switch them to another school before the removal was official. Their tio was disappointed but relieved that Y/N wouldn’t have to be home-schooled. 

What is with this school? they groaned.

They spent ten minutes trying to find where the first years were. So far, they’d only seen second and third years along with the staff. They were sure they’d recognize at least one having watched the sports festival from their home! Then again, their homeroom teacher or at least one of them is well known for never going by the book. Sighing, Y/N decided to approach a student and ask where their homeroom was. They were particularly trying to avoid human interaction as much as possible, but this was the only other option. The first one they spotted was a boy with curly, green hair. His eyes are emerald green, sparkling in the light. Freckles dotted his cheeks in a diamond shape. He was walking at a quick pace, most likely trying not to be late. Waving, Y/N called out for his attention.

“Excuse me, may I ask you a question?” The boy paused mid-step and walked over.

“Sure! What do you need?” He tilted his head, reminding Y/N of a puppy.

“I’m looking for Class 1-A. I’m new and just got transferred. I’ve never been on campus before and no one gave me a map.”

His eyes brightened as he smiled. “You’re in my homeroom! I could escort you there.”

They didn’t notice this before, but the boy was a little shorter than them. Smiling slightly, they placed a hand on his head. He looked up, a tint of red coloring his cheeks. 

“Well- uh- Follow me!” He stuttered before walking down the hall. Y/N followed close behind, watching as the boy’s hair bounced with every step. They had to resist the urge to pet it, wondering how soft it was. Less than five minutes later, they had reached their destination. A number of voices could be heard from outside the classroom. 

“Here we are, Class 1-A!” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously before his eyes widened in realization. 

“I just realized that I never told you my name! Izuku Midoriya, Hero name Deku!” The boy extended his hand. Y/N took it and they shook hands.

“I’m Y/N, transfer student. Heard they kicked a kid out and replaced me with them.”

Izuku chuckled. “Yeah, Mineta. He got caught in the girls locker room more than enough times.” Y/N frowned.

That sounds disgusting, they grimaced.

“Well, I’ll head in before you-” He was cutoff by Y/N pulling him into a side hug. 

“Thanks for helping me out.” They planted a light kiss on his cheek. His face flushed a deep red and hid it with his hands. Before Izuku could respond, Y/N was already walking through the door.

[mrmicron]

I’m thinking of starting a little head canon page on here. Currently, I’m trying to expand my skills on writing, so maybe this will help

[mrmicron]

Starting?!

Jailer One: Oh no, her sentence is almost up!

Jailer Two: We should sleep with one eye open!

Me: I’m sorry, what-

Me: SHOULDN’T YOU BE CONCERNED WITH THE FACT I’VE BEEN ALIVE FOR THE PAST 399 YEARS-

You’ve been sentenced to 400 years for multiple murders. It’s been 399 years and your jailers are starting to get nervous.