#'Fucking rich people bullshit. I shoulda stayed home.'

[mandareeboo]

How often do you break into your own labs that you're angry someone DIDN'T recognize you when you did so????

[sainadazai]

When your crush is angry all the time

Ch. 1

Something fun at an all girls school

Chapter 1

Something fun in an

✨all girls school✨

•○●○•°•○●○•°•○●○•°•○●○•°•○●○•°

"Alright, despite how much the staff have opposed the right for students to watch t.v. during school time....our principle believes that this is actually going to be informative. Now girls, students with all sorts of quirk and backgrounds can be accepted to U.A. I expect you all to respect the people on this t.v as your future colleagues. NO JOKES."

"Pst..wish she would just shut up so we can see the hot guys..." Maiyumi whispered to no one particular

"I know, I haven't seen a man since I got kidnapped last year."

"Most of us havent seen anyone since being kidnapped, or you know, FUCKING ARESTED!" Y/n whisper-yelled. She was still very pissed that even though, she was obviously kidnapped-and meant to be killed- the fucking police blamed her. Dad chalked it up to them being jealous, but y/n really wasn't having it. Imagine it's the third time you were kidnapped and tortured before the age of 16, and it was supposedly your fault. 

Technically, they could've arrested her for burning down the building two weeks later, obviously while empty, she admitted that was wrong. Still, they got what they deserved, and she got frozen yogurt from down the street. As she would say: now that's proper treatment after a kidnapping 😎

"L/n thats enough, we all know the story by now, and we do not need to hear it again"

"But you shoulda been there, the audacity of them to say I was working with those guys!?! Those villains were way below MY level. I mean c'mon, if I was a villain i'd be way cooler than those nobodies."

"Oh.my.god. y/n I love you, but shit up so we can watch hot U.A. boys fight each other!"

"Ms. Hitoka!Unacceptable, we are here to learn from our follow young heros, not sexualize them"

"I heard midnight is gonna be there," Katna whispered towards the group, front the back of the room. Mind you, she was in a position to pounce, considering, much like her classmates, she hadn't seen a boy in years. 

"MIDNIGHT IS SOOO HOT" y/n yelled, forgetting that their teacher was in the front cursing herself for not accepting that sugar-baby job, and never meeting these obnoxious and horny teens. 

"For FUCKS SAKE, JUST WATCH THE TV"

As the teacher yelled all heads turned to face her and ignore their previous conversations. Y/n and Maiyumi had grown soft smiles, finally welcoming back the teacher they know and love. 

You see, LADY STATIC was an ex-pro hero, her quirk was projection. She could pick up any video signals from any device and project exactly what the device was seeing, or playing. She called all cameras her bitch....several times. So, as far as teaching went, she could only last a couple of minutes of seriousness in the beginning of class each day, before she erupted in a fit of lewd comments, brags, and most importantly curse words.

The black screen of the tv suddenly turned on revealing the large stadium that must be where the festival would take place. Y/n didnt really want to watch, it made her kind of sad knowing there were kids out there with the energy to try at something so dumb. A competition where you stay within grade, with supervision, and limits, and rules, and no real risk. It all sounded boring to her. She would either want to sit in bed eating and watching anime, or actually feel something. 

The idea of a battle where you aren't risking your life seemed pretty dull to her. See...y/n along with her best friend maiyumi, was an adrenaline junkie. Those two were the biggest non-villain troublemakers the world has yet to see. 

Finding it fun to jump off bridges, run across intersections, and fight each other with no rules or precautions. After living a life where most people you meet want you dead, and most of your life has just been trauma, everything gets more and more boring. Until you don't even mind risking your life just to feel something. 

However, what y/n did feel, very frequently, was horny. She wouldn't lie and say that she has indulged in some things, despite there being only girls in her private hero academy. However, she craved men, simply because they were something she hadn't had yet. So in the nature of being royalty, if she hadn't had it, she wanted it.

"..booo"

"How could say that, you meant to be representing our school"

"Not my fault the rest of you are just stepping stones to my victory."

Y/n finally focused back on the screen, she was seeing a very up close image of a blonde boy with red eyes, this being the first man she saw since the police 5 months ago. Her eyes lit up, and sub-consciously her body started to glow different colors. Shifting as quickly as the Led lights in her dorm. 

"Mind your quirk princess" Saina, the class grump-who lowkey crushes on y/n- sneers. 

"Aww, sorry, thanks for reminding me daddy" Y/n responded, feigning innocence but still not breaking eye contact with the screen. 

She mentally focused on subsiding her quirk, but it took awhile for her to completely stop glowing. 

Once she was y/n watched the first parts of the festival, noting exactly what that blonde boy was doing. Not without checking out some of the other students. Obviously, but something about those red eyes had her enticed. So she made sure to focus on him. 

As she watched she learned that his quirk was fire, and he used it very differently than she did. She scribbled down a random note about it to make it seem like she was studying and trying to improve herself. Then, focused back on every intricate curve of his face instead. How he scowled, he really looked angry, but being one of those U.A. kids, she couldn't help but doubt he really had anything to be angry about. 

Soon the girl found herself imagining him in some sort of serious situation, what could make somebody so angry? 

And before she knew it, his fighting figure disappeared from the tv as an image of midnight replayed him, announcing that he had one his fight. The last fight wasn't it? Meaning that the rage boy must've won the whole thing. y/n really wasn't impressed, obviously he was only fighting other U.A. students. How hard could that be? However, she was excited that he won for some reason.

While y/n watched him she couldn't help but wish she was the one fight. Oh to be punched by that man.  Every kick he would throw sent goosebumps down her body. Plus when he used that quirk, shit was it hot. Pun intended. Fire seemed like such a simple quirk, but simple works best. That  last fight against Todoroki, that excited her. 

See, y/n liked adventures away from the school ground, and since she could fly..well. She knew Todoroki.  He was always considerate enough not to be weirded out by her when she would sneak into his house, her parents knew his dad well, so she pretty much only knew that one place.  He was logical and so he understood that she isn't really perverted, she simply hasn't seen boys in a very long time.  Todoroki figured if he hadn't seen a female in three years he might become more fond of them as well. 

"Now lets award the metals" 

She looked up at the screen to see a podium holding the winners and runner ups. Atop it was the boy, he was announced as Katsuki Bakugou. He was chained to the post and attacking the air, and y/n found this insanely hot. She assumed that since Todoroki hadn't given his all, that boom boom might be upsetting. However, she never expected to see this beautiful sight on the tv screen of her classroom. The sight was stuck in her mind for days. 

She thought about it during dance class. 

She thought about it during quirk training. 

She thought about it during lunch.

During "sleepovers"

During missions with her boss - gang orca

During meeting with the principle

Even during visit time with her parents. It was then she decided she had to do something about it. Now, even though most girls at her school looked down upon U.A. the parents and staff didn't. For the girls it was about how truly jealous they were that those students, even with lesser power, would get to become heros. While us here, would become noblewomen, or princesses or be married off into other famous quirk families.

Y/n only was jealous because her mother spent more time with U.A. students than with her and her brothers. Seeing her mother was midnight, yes, the pro-hero. While that sounds cool, it isn't. Her mother and father dated for 1 month before getting married on a whim. Her father being a prince was something mom always described as FUCKINZg SEGGSYYY. Yes, you could blame midnight for y/ns horny behaviors. 

Unfortunately for midnight, royal quirks don't mix with other quirks. None of her children have her quirk. Her daughter has Elementus total control, her middle son has Elementus manipulate, and youngest son has Elementus transform. So she is left with a 7 year old that can turn himself into water if he doesn't want to get in trouble....yeah. So that at home life was strange...

"Mom, dad, I wanna be hero"

"Bullshit, no you don't bahaha"

"I do, mom"

"Why"

"Dad, I wanna help people you know, like mom does. I wanna make the world better instead of just becoming a queen and sitting in a house all day." Y/n lied, she would love to sit around doing nothing while her rich, king husband did all the work. Then she could just eat and watch anime and be unbothered. However, in the moment, y/n forgot about her dream future. All she wanted in that moment was to see boom boom everyday. yuh, I said it..boom boom.

"Babe, she has a fair point...plus its not like chiyo can do anything with his quirk"

"What do you mean?! CHiyo's quirk is so cool dad, one time he took all the oxygen out of my bod and then I couldn't do anything, it was so cool!"

"see...."

"Yea,yea i see"

"My love, can't you just recommend her to U.A. so you can keep an eye on her. We both knew she was destined to be a hero at some point."

"Uhm. Babe. She only wants to go so she can see boys."

"What?!My princess would never, you heard it, she wants to help people. Our sons would never say such things, we should proud, love"

"Honey, she is lying."

"No, I'm not a mom, I could care less about boys. All the girls at this school can do the same things, if not better. "

"Y/N! I love you so much my precious horny little fuck"Her mother sprang up from her seat and embarrassed her. 

"I can't believe this is my life.." dad sighed. 

"But yeah, that proves your point honey, if she is gay then she must mean it. Yayyy. N/N is coming to school with meeee!!"

"I- yeah mom."

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: still stalking mckenna Joe: what, we can't BOTH like music? Joe: that's gonna be problematic for me tbh Ronnie: mozarts ghost aint gonna possess him in the encore Ronnie: you can fuck off Joe: you can enjoy your night Joe: I'll take my chances Ronnie: take your chances somewhere else Ronnie: or you wont have any Joe: you looking out for me? Joe: not necessary, I promise Joe: you look like you got your hands full as is Ronnie: its a threat Ronnie: shouldnt be necessary Joe: my apologies for making you work harder but its still not cutting it Ronnie: [throws something at him in a dangerous manner watch out everyone] Ronnie: we can both be into cutting Ronnie: not a problem for me Joe: [when he's probably with his flatmate or similar like they will complain honey they basics lmao, meanwhile just like 😏] Joe: careful, people will think you care Ronnie: what fucking people Ronnie: your girlfriend Joe: for one Ronnie: muzzle your bitch or give her shit to sink her teeth into Ronnie: it aint complicated Joe: I don't think not glassing randoms is exactly rocket science either Ronnie: nothing random about you Ronnie: you fucking wish Joe: you want some projection with that Joe: I found you, remember Ronnie: wasnt hiding nancy Ronnie: not still a runaway kid Joe: then don't hide Joe: I weren't looking for you, alright Ronnie: bullshit Ronnie: you said there aint no other bastards Joe: I meant tonight Joe: this is just coincidence, nothing more Ronnie: leave then Ronnie: your buyers remorse is about as welcome as you Joe: hardly Joe: that's not what it is either Ronnie: they were all out of shiny sisters baby Ronnie: take what you can get Joe: I've already got one of them Ronnie: yeah Ronnie: i remember Joe: you don't want a refill then Joe: replace the one you tossed Ronnie: you on the spectrum or do you not wanna read social cues Joe: well I ain't leaving either way but if you don't wanna make the most outta it Joe: 👍 Ronnie: keep putting words in my mouth & see what happens to yours like Joe: what spectrum are you on if you think that constitutes a please and thanks Ronnie: take it up with your ma Ronnie: she wasnt about to teach me how to play nice Joe: not really her forte Ronnie: thats why im still waiting for my plane ticket home yeah Joe: possibly Joe: I don't know Ronnie: 💔 Ronnie: how olds your good sister Joe: jury is out on good Joe: but 14 so we'll wait and see Ronnie: ill fucking drink to that Ronnie: if she was a write off shed already be Joe: depends on your perspective Joe: I try not to have one Joe: [is at bar] Ronnie: depends on your mas Ronnie: we cant all be black sheep Joe: exactly Joe: they don't really get on Joe: but she's probably just dreading the PTSD a teen pregnancy scare will bring Ronnie: should have kept me around Joe: yeah Ronnie: 1 more abortion and your country would offer me a fucking exorcism Ronnie: fun for all the family Joe: some girls have all the luck Joe: would not believe how hard it is for a lad to get one 🙄 Joe: [just putting the drinks for 'em on their table, when Charlie probs gonna flirt with you like oh hey] Ronnie: your girlfriend will let you hold her hand for her 1st Ronnie: stop sticking it in your cello & youll knock her up in no time Ronnie: [just staring at the drink like you've never seen one before] Joe: come on, she's CoE if I've ever seen it Joe: abortions? sure, but exorcisms ❌ Joe: [tryna just walk off but you know they'd be like who are you hello?! 'cos annoying lmao] Ronnie: not in ireland anymore baby Ronnie: [when you walk off like where the fuck have you got to be my dear] Joe: [at least he's not gonna drop the bomb, just being vague af like oh we met once or whatever goodbye] Joe: you gone yourself? 🛫🍀 Ronnie: on whos 💰 Joe: idk, your pals maybe Joe: but I've fucked off so he can at least top up your drink 'cos its long gone too Ronnie: wanker Ronnie: [comes back and punches charlie love you boy] Joe: [just wait 'til you have your own mindblown with that crazy connection boy] Joe: ✊ Ronnie: [gives him the biggest fuck you look ever like I can't believe you typed that] Joe: [just loling a lil 'scuse him company its not at whatever you said] Ronnie: [comes over, ignoring everyone else obvs, to drink his entire drink and walk off again] Joe: [omg stop flirting you two, everyone like what is going on tbh] Ronnie: [dancing with charlie cos he don't take kindly to being punched but you don't wanna answer his questions either] Joe: [save it for later you nosy hoe] Ronnie: [when you see his poor flatmate going to pee and follow her intimidatingly soz bitch] Joe: [this poor girl is in no way prepared lmao] Ronnie: [thinking she's about to get mugged or murdered] Joe: [when you're 18 and its your first time away from home no doubt this poor girl honestly] Ronnie: you deffo she aint catholic Ronnie: could see her in a penguin house Joe: weren't a question on the flatmate icebreakers Joe: shoulda asked for some segregrated accomodation but thought londoners were meant to be post-religion post-everything so Ronnie: ���� it aint god its you baby Ronnie: shes no londoner Joe: no, I do know that one Joe: she's from Kent, I think Joe: or Surrey? Ronnie: not holy holier than tho Ronnie: u Ronnie: never gonna please a horse girl mckenna Joe: 😏 Joe: I'll not go there then Ronnie: charlies fucking easy to please Ronnie: youve done the 1 drink minimum & youll avoid the pregnancy scare Joe: I think he's the one that does the pleasing Joe: so I've been assured Ronnie: gets him off dont worry like Joe: I'll sleep easy now, tah Ronnie: lullabies are shit but yeah Joe: 🤞 that ain't his encore either Ronnie: if it aint opening an artery to spray the crowd count me the fuck out Joe: I wouldn't hold your breath Joe: though might be more fun Ronnie: [dramatically holds her breath in his direction like kids do] Joe: [just watching 'cos weird and into it] Ronnie: [lowkey going purple probably because you know she won't stop til she hits the deck] Joe: [just watching 'til the last sec when you obvs gonna catch her] Ronnie: [giving him a look when he does like we have to stop meeting like this but then exposing his tattoo wherever that is cos gotta check that really happened] Joe: [I hope you didn't opt for your booty, lol, probably inner bicep moment or something 'cos not that bitch getting those out at any chance] Ronnie: [just touching it like you're not shamelessly flirting with your brother okay then] Joe: [just looking at her face hardcore 'cos you can pretend you're checking her tat too] Ronnie: [when you come back to yourself and remember you're supposed to hate him for being your brother so you push him away unnecessarily hard and retreat to your corner] Joe: [go off to the bathroom yourself boy] Ronnie: [french exit while he's gone even though it'll make Charlie more annoying] Joe: [have fun Joseph] Joe: you missed the bloodbath Ronnie: made my own Joe: safer bet Joe: on all counts Ronnie: safer for your girlfriend Ronnie: & you Joe: you know she ain't my girlfriend Ronnie: no shit you dont wanna claim that conquest Joe: wrong again Joe: not gonna bang my flatmate who pays the bigger part of the rent 'cos she gets the en-suite Joe: give me some credit Ronnie: shed give you some if you gave it up to her Ronnie: but if youd rather pay rent Joe: there's no way I can keep that going 4 years Ronnie: she aint hacking it Ronnie: you can fucking smell the homesickness Joe: its like, down the road init Joe: ugh Ronnie: & Ronnie: she cant fit her horse in the en suite baby Joe: 😂 Joe: true..I'll make some rich friends to move in when she gallops off into the sunset then Ronnie: theyll not slum it with you for 4 years Joe: but I'm so charming Joe: what's the solution then, sis? Ronnie: sell yourself or kill yourself Joe: 👌 Joe: already with ya Ronnie: yeah dead connected us Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: you're the only one that's allowed to be suicidal? Ronnie: oldest cunt gets dibs Ronnie: aint that how this sibling shit plays Ronnie: whatever you wanna do ive already done it Joe: half the time Joe: but the other half is youngest gets away with it 'cos they're cuter so Ronnie: cause theyre a crybaby Ronnie: yeah you can have that soft lad Joe: 😥 bit of a prerequisite for the suicide Joe: so generous Ronnie: i left you alive so you can do yourself in Ronnie: since youve got such a boner for it Ronnie: generosity begins & ends Joe: You can stop thinking about my boners then Joe: that'll be my attempt at the virtue Ronnie: put em away Joe: you tryna expose me Ronnie: you dont need my help Ronnie: flashers keep more hidden than you Joe: really Joe: don't seem like that's something that would bother you Ronnie: youre that special mckenna Ronnie: every fucking thing you do bothers me Joe: 💘 Joe: check facebook some more, I'll keep my events up to date Joe: can avoid each other easy Ronnie: nah you see me you walk the other way Joe: I got places to be babe Ronnie: yeah a&e Ronnie: if you dont get the fuck outta my face Joe: see, you're well about it Joe: I got it, yeah, we're not family Ronnie: were nothing Ronnie: & if thats what gets you off pay for it like the other cunts do Ronnie: not my 9-5 Joe: I found Soho by myself, don't worry Joe: we're good Ronnie: boss Ronnie: stay there Joe: more expensive than Sophie's horse that Ronnie: train her up to be whatever the fuck you want then Ronnie: 4 years in she could probably kiss with tongue like Joe: you gotta ask yourself why you care Joe: 'cos I know Ronnie: i dont have to ask myself fuck all Joe: deny it then Joe: works for me Ronnie: theres no need to deny theres cunts i wanna talk to less than you Ronnie: or i that i gotta have something to do while i wait Ronnie: 💘 Joe: you're all talk Joe: say no more Ronnie: fuck you Joe: yeah fuck me Ronnie: stick your therapy speak in whatever hole you reckon can take it Ronnie: ill reverse over your head before i submit to this psychology bullshit Joe: not what I'm studying Joe: or doing Ronnie: you reckon if you say im all talk itll get you some action Ronnie: dream on motherfucker Ronnie: i dont look like her that much Joe: bold assumption Ronnie: nah Ronnie: charlies more like a brother than you & ive done everything there is to do to that tosser Joe: bold to assume I'm half as fucked up as you Joe: spent long enough telling me I can't be 'cos I got a ma and now I wanna fuck her, okay Ronnie: wearing it on your sleeve aint you though baby Ronnie: saw your arm & yeah i reckon halfs about right Ronnie: but me at 19 wouldve left you in more pieces than that Joe: you must be proud Ronnie: what the fuck of Joe: your 19 year old self Ronnie: youd have liked me better at 9 Joe: alright but a nonce joke is hardly original Ronnie: neithers wanting to fuck your ma Ronnie: read a book schoolboy Joe: that's you throwing that about Joe: not one I ask the prozzies to act out tah Ronnie: what the fuck else was your lil challenge about then Joe: what was yours? Ronnie: i didnt fire any shots shithead Joe: not true Joe: i got the 🍒 to prove it Ronnie: fuck me youre that cunt Ronnie: 1 sos & i owe you my life yeah Joe: where'd you hear that Joe: what was it, needle not clean or something Ronnie: you dont need to wait for a death that slow Ronnie: fucking do it Joe: why do you do it Ronnie: why do you give a shit what i do Joe: interesting Joe: why do you fuck with your face like that Ronnie: too late to keep it pretty for you Ronnie: should have nancy drewed this shit earlier Joe: you ain't gonna answer Joe: alright Ronnie: cant we both like pain Ronnie: is that your problem Joe: 'course Joe: no monopoly on that shit Joe: its universal, so the books say Ronnie: bullshit do you read fuck all else but sheet music Joe: not no more Joe: but i can read more than scales, like Joe: have to write essays and shit sometimes Ronnie: fucking hell Ronnie: save this riveting shit for your flatmates Joe: she does art Joe: dunno what the lad does, he's out his room less than me Ronnie: horse cocks out of clay like Ronnie: bet shes the professors pet Joe: 🤞 she gets in an ill-advised affair with a pervy prof Ronnie: every other repressed white bitch has done it Joe: my home is safe Joe: hooray Ronnie: til i sleuth your address Joe: then its petrol bombs and dog shit, I know Ronnie: after theres fuck all left to steal Ronnie: 🤡s in films 🔥💸 Joe: and eat six year old's arms Joe: crack on Ronnie: i aint bitten any kids since i was Joe: I'm proud even if you ain't then Ronnie: raise the bar baby Joe: guess the other lad you were with don't technically count no more Joe: actual kids are that annoying Ronnie: kids get to be annoying Joe: lucky ones Joe: the ones that get to be kids Ronnie: no shit Ronnie: youll be born & die a saint Ronnie: such a fucking martyr Joe: when God comes a calling, you can't refuse, obvs Joe: guess that's what she gets for not aborting you, nice bonus for being good Ronnie: yeah Joe: likes a joke as much as the next Joe: gutted for her Ronnie: cant take the scouse sinner out of her however much irish catholic dick shes taken since Ronnie: 💔 Joe: if its only paddys in heaven, I'll lose the invite Ronnie: you better stay in purgatory then Ronnie: dont want you in hell with me Joe: you're just jealous I'll be too busy getting tortured by some other demon Joe: you're alright, anguishing over my wrongs for eternity sounds like a bit of me Joe: I can hack it, more painful than being sodomized with pitchforks or whatever weak shit you're in store for Ronnie: wanna see your cum face even less Ronnie: fucks sake Joe: 😂 Joe: shh, you already know he's got that sick sense of humour Joe: your own clockwork orange moment for eternity now Ronnie: 💘 Joe: you ain't nothing like I thought when I was 🔎🤔 Ronnie: cheers for the romantic cliche you pussy Joe: you're that special Joe: and welcome Ronnie: what did you reckon id be like Joe: like the rest of 'em Joe: complete the cliche Ronnie: fuck off Joe: what, I did Joe: there ain't a bigger compliment, honestly Ronnie: i dont wanna hear your compliments Ronnie: or how big they are Joe: 😏 Joe: you asked Ronnie: cause i cant resist hearing how fucking soft you are Joe: that makes you pretty fucking soft yourself then don't it Ronnie: fuck you Joe: back here, yeah Ronnie: back at get someone else to knock you out Joe: shouldn't be hard Ronnie: depends how hard you are Ronnie: could be a turn on or off Joe: either way, its incentive for them to go harder Joe: can't lose, me Ronnie: enjoy yourself baby Joe: never Joe: if I lose my overwhelming urge to die what have I got Ronnie: new overwhelming urges Joe: won't be that good Ronnie: write it in your diary i didnt ask for your review Joe: you can do that you know Joe: they've all got profiles, like they're a shit local pub or something Ronnie: what a fucking state Joe: won't miss it when I'm in pugatory Ronnie: if i had a shot for every time you cried your eyes out id miss that Joe: you'd miss having a liver Joe: and functioning braincell Ronnie: didnt mean that kind of shot shithead Joe: your aim is for shit, true Ronnie: or that one Joe: ahh Ronnie: you had me at dirty needles 💘 Joe: s'worth being alive for, then? Ronnie: what the fuck waste of a question is that Joe: why? Ronnie: what do you think Joe: reason I'm asking Joe: if its just another slow way to kill yourself then I'm sound but if its more than that then its a potential for the repertoire Ronnie: if it was id have taken a faster way out Joe: its noted Ronnie: why do you wanna die Joe: its not even Joe: I ain't actually sad, soz to burst your 😥 bubble, IOU some shots, whatever Joe: just wanna turn my head off, not have to participate Joe: deal with any of it Joe: but saying you wanna be put in a coma doesn't quite have the same punch Ronnie: underline that note then Joe: yeah? Joe: not like I've never thought about it Joe: think about it a lot, hence the need for a fucking switch Joe: how cliche to look like I'm doing it to spite her though, eh? Ronnie: whatever you take now thats strawberry flavoured childhood bullshit Ronnie: youve found your prescribed dose of working adult medicine Joe: it don't touch it, not worth taking unless you wanna down half a blister at a time and have a decent kip Joe: get me some and I'll pay you 20% for your trouble Ronnie: come over Ronnie: told you im waiting Joe: alright Joe: if I ask for your current location do I give away that I'm not a decent stalker Ronnie: youve fucking shown that card bitch Joe: figured Joe: be obliging then Ronnie: [a location of who the fuck knows where cos we don't need Charlie or Bronson there for this excuse you lads] Joe: [when you need some privacy for your bonding] Ronnie: [when you need some privacy to shoot up your half brother who you ain't even told your other fam about] Joe: [fun and games] Joe: cool Joe: 🤞 i'm there just after the heroin Ronnie: get here before or ill be in no state to keep obliging you Joe: I'm yet to be initiated, my timekeeping skills are 🔥 Ronnie: give a shit about your cv Joe: I'll be there Ronnie: your loss if you aint Ronnie: dont come crying to me Ronnie: i wont hear it for fucking ages Joe: i'm not an idiot Ronnie: it dont matter who or what you are Ronnie: stopped listening after the ill be there Joe: 💘 Ronnie: get it tattooed next yeah Joe: yeah Ronnie: over the real fucker Ronnie: cause you love a cliche Joe: 'course Joe: have to find another dickhead with a gun though Joe: that one did not know his left from his right Ronnie: get what you pay for baby Ronnie: & we didnt Joe: touche Joe: I'll forgo accuracy for that Joe: and the dirty needle, obvs Ronnie: getting to put his hand on my tit will blow the brains he has like Joe: 😏 Ronnie: but if i toss him off thatll get shit back on track Joe: hot Joe: love that you have a plan Ronnie: cute Ronnie: you reckoning im pure chaos Ronnie: not your manic pixie dream skank Joe: ain't planning on being a composer Joe: least not now Joe: don't need to write about you Ronnie: 💔 Joe: make up your mind Ronnie: you aint on my mind mckenna Ronnie: dont get your balls in a twist Joe: do you wanna be on mine or not Ronnie: i know whats on yours Joe: same Joe: makes a change Ronnie: compose a song about your confusion then like Joe: less cliche than a love song Joe: still Ronnie: do it from the pov of the horse Ronnie: be a hit with your flatmate Joe: you just wanna get me stalked Joe: paybacks a bitch, yeah Ronnie: wanna get your habit paid for before you start it Ronnie: throw her a boner Ronnie: whats the fucking drama Joe: i don't fancy her Joe: nor having the convo about where all her moneys going Ronnie: & Ronnie: i dont fancy the cunt with the tattoo gun Ronnie: got fuck all to do with it Joe: & Joe: you're lowering standards, not getting anything up Ronnie: close your eyes & think of gear Ronnie: youll do anything for a horse like that Joe: let me try it first Ronnie: dont need to hear about your trust issues baby Joe: better stop talking now then Ronnie: yeah Ronnie: shut the fuck up Joe: [you know when its like 'removed message' that] Ronnie: 🖕 Joe: what Ronnie: i cant cut your sense of humour out Ronnie: cant live with it Joe: no funny business Joe: just a buttdial Ronnie: charlie aint here but adorable that you 2 homos hit it off Joe: just scousers gotta stick together or did you know him from back home Ronnie: he didnt give you the rundown Ronnie: mustve made him speechless mckenna Joe: too busy trying to work out how I knew you Ronnie: we grew up together Ronnie: & the mime standing next to us Joe: cool Ronnie: nah Ronnie: fucked Joe: I mean that you still know 'em, talk to 'em Ronnie: we aint trying to throw our family away for a new one Joe: like I said, s'cool Ronnie: like i said hes gonna eat that shit up Ronnie: you fawning over his family set up Joe: good to know Joe: not really my type either, call me fussy Ronnie: fucks sake Ronnie: join the god squad now & save yourself the 12 steps Joe: 'cos I don't wanna do a bloke or my horse girl roommate Ronnie: cause you only wanna do your ma Joe: you can't just give me dud options and come to that conclusion Ronnie: we playing fuck marry kill now Joe: not playing nothing with you Joe: cheater Ronnie: crybaby Joe: you'll 😥 when I have to kill your mate Ronnie: you wish Joe: making people cry is your thing Joe: I don't need to fight that claim Ronnie: like you aint been wanting to save me again since the 1st time Ronnie: thats your thing yeah Joe: save you from what? Joe: smack? obviously not Joe: other self-destructive tendencies? try again Ronnie: it obviously dont matter Ronnie: id never seen you & id still never seen a cunt more excited to do a rescue Joe: and I'd never seen you Joe: maybe you'd got all kinds of fucked up 'cos of all the shit I dragged up Joe: basic decency ain't nothing to get excited about Ronnie: i know how to self soothe im a big girl now Joe: didn't need you self-soothing yourself to death on my conscience Ronnie: didnt ask you to give a shit Ronnie: catholic guilts best left at home baby Ronnie: youll never find a place with the cockneys Joe: about myself? Joe: its barely but hanging on by a thread Joe: soz Joe: dead girls fuck you up Ronnie: not your type either then Joe: ultimate type Joe: don't wanna commit right now, tah Ronnie: 🤞 i od & you can finally sort your misery boner out Joe: too giving you Ronnie: im dead i aint giving a shit Joe: put that on the headstone Ronnie: pay for it you write whatever cliche you want Joe: you want a classy picture affair Joe: got it Ronnie: stop getting me Ronnie: it makes me wanna blow my brains out Joe: its obvious you wanna be seen Joe: no spooky sibling connection required Ronnie: fuck off Joe: what's better than ruining a graveyards ambiance for the mourners for the forseeable Ronnie: theres no room in the ground soft lad Joe: they just chuck you in with the old bones Joe: or 'move' them Ronnie: hot Joe: mhmm Joe: plague pit is the way to go Ronnie: fit the horse & the girl Ronnie: how fucking romantic Joe: that's me Ronnie: ill put john in the 💘 for you baby Ronnie: your ma robbed you blind of so many lennon comparisons Joe: still time to be pretentious with soph Joe: fuck off getting out of bed for good Ronnie: smother her with a pillow & fuck her corpse youll be feeling peace & love Joe: 💎🍓💘 Ronnie: playing with emojis & yourself aint getting you here Ronnie: hurry up Joe: can't make you any closer Ronnie: 💔

[camilliar]

fic? post???

@stultiloquentia said I liked fics about the decline of man so here’s some crazy shit I’ve been writing for @tomato-greens where they’re all teenage runaways, maybe I’ll “finish” this “story” one day? pg13, eventual zimbits but not in this part, ~3k, I’d say “enjoy” but

I.

Eric hadn’t begun to fathom just how large Jack was—how tall, how broad—until Jack reared up and bellowed in his face, “This isn’t a game!”

“I wasn’t playing.” Eric tried to straighten up, but he was only five feet.

“Either get with the program or go home!”

And, well, that sure hurt—Jack must have known Eric couldn’t go home, right? Wasn’t that the whole point? What else did Jack think they were doing out here? There wasn’t any home, not really, except this one, here and now.

Also, until Jack yelled, Eric wasn’t sure he knew English. Eric had only ever heard him speak in French before. So that was a revelation.

“What’d you do?” Shitty asked, as they were waiting to steal into the gas station bathroom on Moreland—the Shell, not the Chevron. Less foot traffic at this one. Fewer passersby.

“Nothing,” Eric swore, starting to waggle. He really had to go now. “I gave him a plant, is all.”

“A plant?”

“Yeah, you know, a little plant. A Christmas cactus.”

“A what?”

“Christmas cactus,” said Eric. “They’re pretty when they bloom. My mama used to have one—used to, she probably still does, oh boy, I can’t wait to get into the bathroom—what do you think is taking him so long in there?”

“I bet we don’t want to know,” said Shitty.

“Well, you’re probably right, I suppose—I was thinking I could water the cactus here, or Jack would—you know, if he took it from me—”

“She.”

“—if he took it from me, we could walk over here with it and just get it a little water, nice clean water like from the tap—don’t make that face at me, mister! I’ve been holding it all night.”

“You coulda got me up, you know.”

“Nah,” said Eric. “Nah, and destroy your beauty rest?”

“Nothing pretty about me,” said Shitty, and he grinned to show off his pointy canines. It made him look feral. Eric agreed he didn’t look pretty, though he was sure better-kempt than the rest of them. To that point, when the door flung open and Eric rushed inside, Shitty filed in after and, kindly, took a moment to lock the door. He had his dopp kid until his arm; it was his most prized thing. It looked about a thousand years old, like something from a fairy tale. Shitty put it on the edge of the sink and began removing little cannister, old film containers and pill bottles. Being brazen, sometimes Shitty would sneak into the bathroom of a nice restaurant and fill them with lotion, or soap. Sometimes he’d do it in a Target, just pumping shaving gel into an old film cannister. Why not steal the whole bottle? Eric had asked him once. It was something about that not being right, some code. He had a razor blade and he was shaving with it, carefully skirting his mustache. He was impeccably well-groomed for a bum, Eric thought.

One day maybe I’ll be able to grow a beard and then I’ll be impeccably well-groomed, Eric thought. He was only 14; maybe he’d be tall one day.

Or maybe he’d never find out. Was this temporary? He’d only been in Atlanta for two weeks. Had it only been two weeks? Don’t think about it, he reminded himself. Do your business. Don’t look.

He was still doing his business, his semi-hard cock in hand, when Shitty stuck an old Mortin bottle under his nose. Eric had never gone to high school, but he knew that smell; some of his daddy’s team used to smoke after practice, when they thought Coach had taken Eric home for supper.

“No thank you,” he said, shocked, clumsily stuffing his prick back into his pants, still wet at the tip. He would fret about that all day.

II.

Eric was confident that if he has access to his kitchen, he could make Jack feel better. The one time he’d seen Jack smile—really smile—was when Shitty’d brought him a Happy Meal with chicken nuggets and an apple pie for dessert.

“You know,” Eric had said, trying to be all casual-like, “McDonald’s pies aren’t very good.”

Jack had looked up; having shoved most of the thing into his mouth, his cheeks were bulging.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Eric had continued, “I can make an apple pie that’s a lot better.”

Having a mouth full of food hadn’t stopped Jack from trying to say, “Well, what good does that do us? Where do you think you’re gonna bake one?” Of course, with all that pie in his mouth, not to mention the weird accent, Eric hadn’t managed to make out what Jack had said exactly. But, that was the gist of it, Eric was certain.

“You don’t have to try to make her like you,” Shitty explained. They were walking down Moreland; Larissa had reported that, on the way into town with her mother, she had noticed that someone had left a big box of stuff on the curb up on Briarcliff. Eric had never been to the other side of Ponce, and he was nervous-excited. “Just rich people over there,” Shitty had explained, “real bougie fucks.” Eric didn’t know what bougies were, but they were going to check it out.

“You think there’s any kitchen stuff in that box?” Eric asked. Waiting to cross Freedom Parkway took an eternity.

“Oh, yeah.” Shitty rubbed his hands together, like he’d realized this was a great idea. “That’d be good, if it’s vintage we could try to sell it at Highland Antiques, get some cash. Or is that one of those antiques malls where you have to rent a booth?” He began to stroke his chin. “I wonder.”

The light changed, and Eric scurried across in Shitty’s wake. “Nah, I mean like, we could hold onto it, use it to cook something.”

“Like over a fire,” Shitty agreed, “real old-timey hobo-like shit. Make some beans.”

“I was just thinking since Jack liked that that awful pie from McDonald’s, maybe he’d like my award-winning apple pie, which is much better.”

Again, at North, they had to stop and wait for traffic.

“You can cook a pie over a fire?”

Eric had begun to notice that Shitty was more difficult to deal with right after he’d smoked some pot, which was just about always.

“You cook a pie in the oven.”

“I doubt there’s gonna be an oven at the end of someone’s driveway,” Shitty said. “When rich people get a new oven, the Best Buy or whatever hauls the old one away.”

“Well,” Eric said, consoling himself. “Maybe there’s a pie plate. I shoulda brought mine. That was pretty darn stupid of me, huh?”

Shitty put a hand to Eric’s back, as if to usher him across North Avenue. “Listen, kiddo. It’s nice of you to want to do something sweet for Jack and all, but you gotta let her live with her choices. Junkies get a little junk-sick sometimes, you know?” As they got to the other side of the street, he paused. After a moment, he added, “Let’s go to the Borders sometime and steal you a copy of Naked Lunch.”

“Naked what?” Eric asked. He was only able to half-focus on Shitty’s explanation, too busy hoping beyond hope he’d find something pretty in that box on Moreland to bring home—such as it was home—for Jack.

When they got there, to Eric’s disappointment, the box had already been picked up by the garbagemen.

“Fuckin’ DeKalb County,” Shitty mused. “Fuckin’ yuppie assholes.”

Eric had no clue what he was talking about, none whatsoever.

III.

Borders didn’t have a copy of Naked Lunch, or anything else by the author. “Fuckin’ capitalism,” Shitty complained. “This whole place is full of garbage, not books. Who needs any of this?” He picked up something on a display of mostly stationery, a plastic deer figurine in pink glitter. Eric thought, well, the store is full of mostly books? He did like that sparkly deer. He wished Shitty would steal it for him, but Shitty had a twisted code about stealing things Eric might actually like. “Come on, we’d better go to Whole Foods, see if there’s free tortilla chip samples.”

But at the door of the Whole Foods, a staff member stacking handbaskets looked at them funny and said, “Excuse me.”

Shitty paid him little heed, just said, “Hey, bro,” entered anyway.

Eric had never been in a Whole Foods before. It was dark, not bright like a Publix. And not for lack of light—there were overhead lights. It was just yellow, washed-out, dingy. It didn’t feel clean like a Publix; it felt less clean than Kroger.

“Oh, good,” Shitty said, dragging Eric by the arm. “Guacamole.”

It wasn’t guacamole, though, it was pineapple salsa.

“Bullshit,” sad Shitty, “total bullshit. But, here, eat this anyway.” He had somehow managed to pile it only about four chips at once. “Beat off the scurvy.”

“You think there’s anything here Jack would like?”

Through a mouth of tortilla chips, Shitty said, “There’s nothing anywhere Jack would like, because Jack only likes two things: narcotics, and feeling sorry for herself.”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked what these chips tasted like; they shimmered under the yellow lights with a glean of oil, like they’d come out of a deep-fryer. Sometimes at UGA games Eric’s father would take him to his buddies’ various tailgates, and some of those guys had deep fryers, and, well, Eric knew what flour tortillas in corn oil tasted like. He preferred Tostitos, with their dry, clean starch—but he realized, now that he was eating, that he’d been hungry all morning, truly hungry. He’d been hungry for so long that he forgot he was hungry until he had some food.

“See, the thing with Jack is,” Shitty started to explain, but the same employee who’d been stacking baskets approached them.

“How’re you boys doing?” he asked.

Shitty had tortilla chip crumbs in his mustache. “Thanks for asking, bro, we’re fine. When does the guac come out?”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

Shitty’s question wasn’t answered.

IV.

It was easy to lose track of time, Eric figured, when day after day was the same and you had nowhere to go and nothing to do. It felt wrong when he thought of it: he had things to do, didn’t he? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking for a place to stay? But Eric was no closer to affording an apartment than he had been upon arrival in Atlanta, and some kind of gravity, or lack of inertia, kept him spinning in circles. The highlight of his week became Larissa’s trip into the city on Saturday mornings; she would take a walk in the park with Shitty while her mother did errands. Sometimes, out of pity, Mrs. Larissa’s Mother gave Eric a few dollars.

“Don’t blow it all in one place,” Shitty chided. He was about to head off with Larissa toward Inman Park. What would they do there, and where would they go when the weather got too cold to spend it outside? Eric thought for a few minutes about other places Shitty and Larissa could walk to, but then Eric realized Shitty’s walks in the park were the least of his worries.

When Jack woke up that afternoon he wasn’t in such a bad mood, so Eric felt like it was safe to ask him: “What do we do when it gets cold out?”

Jack blinked his eyes open, slowly at first and then all at once, like the question caught him off-guard. “I don’t know what you’ll do,” he said, “but I’m staying here.”

“In Atlanta?”

“Right here.”

The thought was so disturbing that Eric wandered down the street until he remembered he had three dollars in his pocket. He was a block down from the Zesto, and found himself walking toward it until he was pressed up against the window, looking in, reading the menu over the counter. A sundae was a bit over three dollars. Feeling determined, Eric began to inspect the sidewalk and then the parking lot, hoping to find anything: a nickel, a dime, a quarter. Anything would help.

A pair of ladies holding hands were walking down McLendon toward the corner, on the other side of the street. Feeling bold, and determined, he jogged toward them.

“Hi, ma’am,” he said. “Ma’ams.” Suddenly, Eric was grateful for how long it took the light to change before a person could get to the other side of Moreland. “How’s your day?”

One of them was wearing aviator sunglasses and a poofy skirt that sat high up on her waist. She was big-chested and had on a patterned V-neck T-shirt. She let go of the other woman’s hand and said, “Okay.”

“I was just wondering—” now Eric felt solidly deranged “—if you would be so kind, do you have a couple cents on you? A sundae at the Zesto is three-twenty-nine, and my friend Larissa only gave me three bucks, so I was hoping—”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence before he got a dollar along with the question, “Aren’t you too young to be panhandling?” But, mercifully, they didn’t wait for Eric to answer.

On one hand, if Eric sauntered back leisurely, the sundae would begin to melt; on the other, if he ran, truly hustled, he might spill it. He tried to split the difference, and spent the walk daydreaming of all the things he’d buy for Jack one day, if he would only afford it: a beautiful old razor like his grandfather had owned; a Kindle, so Jack could read all the books he wanted without having to fret about going to the store; new yellow sneakers, fresh as they were vivid as they were hideous.

“What’s that?” Jack asked warily, when he saw Eric approach with something in hand.

“Just a sundae, from Zesto.” Eric paused. “I thought we could split it?”

“I don’t want to share a spoon.”

“I got two spoons.” Eric squatted, careful not to rest his weight on Jack’s blankets. “You like hot fudge, right?”

Jack only grunted.

“These nice ladies gave me a dollar,” Eric explained, removing the lid from the sundae. “You know, I had to really screw up my courage to ask them, but it wasn’t too hard once I put my mind to it. They seemed real friendly, but they asked what I was doing panhandling, said I was too young to be doing that. I don’t think I’m too young, do you? I think I’m just about the right age for things, I mean, we all gotta learn to put ourselves out there at some point, I guess.” He sighed, digging his spoon into the melting soft serve. “I’m still worried about what to do when it gets real cold out.”

Jack, who had already been eating the ice cream, had white on his lips. He licked them, slowly. “I used to worry about it too,” he said, before helping himself to another spoonful.

“What made you stop?”

Jack swallowed his ice cream. “Heroin.”

Eric had nothing to say to that, so he kept eating, perhaps a little too quickly, given how thoroughly he wanted to savor things. Then again, the sundae was melting, so.

Suddenly, Eric was deeply, depressingly aware of how rare this moment was: Jack was being honest, and he didn’t seem sick, and he didn’t seem angry. Eric was midway through helping himself to another bite of ice cream when he got a bizarre urge not to feed himself but to offer his spoon to Jack instead.

And Jack accepted, which was weirder.

It made something in Eric start to burn, start to fill his chest with—god, some emotion, some strong tug from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

Eric cleared his throat, to get Jack’s attention. “Listen, Jack, can I ask you something?”

Jack looked up. “I guess,” he said. “For the ice cream.”

“Why—” It was hard for Eric to get it out. “Why does Shitty call you ‘she’?”

Their nice moment was over.

“He shouldn’t,” Jack said, drawing his arm up, to shield his face. “Does he? He shouldn’t.”

“Well, I was just wondering—”

“Stop wondering.”

“But—”

Now Eric felt awful stupid.

“Never call me that. She doesn’t exist. You’ll never get to meet her, so don’t ask.” Jack put his face in his hands.

“But who’s ‘she’?”

“She’s nobody, so shutup.”

Eric was good at that—shutting up. He merely put a hand at Jack’s back, felt him trembling. “You want some more ice cream?”

Jack looked up, pushed himself to his feet. The plastic spoon from Zesto clattered to the pavement. “I gotta—” He found something, dug it out of his blankets. “I need the bathroom, don’t follow me.”

It had been months now, so Eric knew Jack needed the bathroom the way his mother needed her alone time: to do something she really ought not to have been doing, that was, behind closed doors. Eric had seen Jack crush pills in his fist and rub them into his gums, that night he’d probably thought Eric was sleeping and couldn’t see it.

In the plastic bowl their sundae was a puddle of white streaked with brown. Eric might have gotten a C+ in eighth-grade English, but he knew symbolism when he saw it.