#good thing I have all this fucking homework to keep me company

[ellecdc]

Hi! I’m back 😬. I’m still extremely new to requesting so feel no pressure to write this soon. I was thinking of quiet!reader, who gets nervous when she is around Regulus and instantly starts saying the most out of pocket things and being chatty to fill in the silence. Regulus finds this amusing and usually keeps a serious, quiet demeanor to hear the weird things that come out of her mouth. 😊

looolllll the second I got this request it made me think of that Philomena Cunk meme on TikTok where people were like 'me whenever the conversation lulls' - so I had to borrow that quote!!! (let me know if you find it). Thanks so much for requesting babes - hope you love it 🫶

Regulus Black x quiet!fem reader (who can't shut up around him)

The world was out to get you, that much you were certain of. You were certain of this fact because this was the third time this week that your table in the library had somehow attracted the elusive Regulus Arcturus Black. 

Usually, this would not be an issue. In fact, one could argue this was a rather nonissue, seeing as you were sort of embarrassingly completely infatuated with the aggravatingly quiet boy in your year.

However, it appeared that the company of one Regulus Arcturus Black short-circuited some fundamental part of your brain which caused you to blurt out the most asinine comments known to all of wizardingkind – nay – humankind. The universe has never seen the likes of such horrible conversation. 

It went a little like this: 

Earlier in the week you had set up your arithmancy homework out in front of you at your favourite table in the library. It was your favourite table because it had a window view, but that window view was the least distracting window view in the whole library. It also was the perfect distance to a fireplace, meaning you could manage to stay warm in the stone castle during the cold Scottish winters. 

Unfortunately, it seemed, the table didn’t give you a good vantage point to alert you when one Regulus Arcturus Black made an appearance.

“Mind if I sit here?” A quiet voice startled you out of your calculations, causing you to overturn a pot of ink in front of you.

“Fucking Merlin and Morgana! I- oh, erm, uh, no I uhm, fuck.” You sputtered as you split your attention between the boy standing across from you and the pool of ink quickly making its way towards your skirt. 

With a non-descript flick of Regulus’ wand, the mess was gone – though the damage to your parchment was unsalvageable.

“Oh, uhm, thanks. Sorry I – erm, have a seat. Although, you might not be safe!” You tried to joke but your voice came out disturbingly high, and the (failed) ‘joke’ made you flush hot with shame.

“I’m usually way cooler than this.” You tried to argue, before you realized that someone way cooler definitely wouldn’t have just said that.

Regulus was either unbothered by your horrifying actions or chose to ignore them. He opened his textbooks and began taking notes like you weren’t even there, while you sat in the most awkward and uncomfortable silence of your entire life.

It wasn’t long before you decided you couldn’t take it anymore, standing abruptly – so abruptly, in fact, that you had to quickly save another pot of ink from spilling – and began hastily gathering your things. Regulus did look up at this, and his eyes on you seemed to cause another malfunction to your central nervous system.

“Well, I must be off. I have other homework to dump ink on.” You said, except you didn’t deliver the sentence as a joke and it sounded all too believable – paired with your actions today, and you were certain he believed that’s exactly what you were off to do.

“Toodaloo.” You called and ran from the library.

Toodaloo!?!?! Are you fucking serious!?!! TOODALOO. Oh gods.

You didn’t dare return to the library the following day.

The day after that, though? It was fair game.

You were once again sitting at your favourite table and had ensured you placed a sticking charm on the bottom of your ink pots to avoid any more unfortunate accidents, when the clearing of a throat interrupted your studies.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, motioning to the seat across from you.

He’s kidding, right? After what happened two days ago, he can’t possibly want to sit with you?

Nonsense, perhaps this is just his favourite table in the library too.

You were determined this time not to make a fool of yourself.

“Have you finished the rune translations for Professor Babbling, yet?” Regulus asked.

No, the world was definitely out to get you.

“I, erm, I’ve started it. I believe it references the magic practiced by the Egyptians during the Predynastic period. Quite interesting stuff, Ancient Egypt. Did you know that Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do in your life was die?” 

You were talking a mile a minute. You knew this to be true due to the fact that your tongue was actually tripping over your words, but while your brain was shouting shut up shut up shut up shut up, your mouth just kept moving.

“Is that so?” Regulus asked, his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he scrutinized you.

“I don’t know actually.” You admitted, realizing you may have just lied to Regulus Black about Ancient Egypt. “I, I suppose I meant that they put way more emphasis on death than life.” You cringed again. “I don’t know if that’s true either – it’s just, it’s... it's the pyramids!” You shouted desperately, earning you a shush from the librarian. 

“The pyramids?” He asked incredulously, a smile playing on his lips.

He was making fun of you, surely.

“Yup. Pyramids.” You squeaked, turning your face back towards your textbook.

“And you got all of that from the runes translation?”

Your face burned in shame.

“Uhm, no. The runes said no such thing. I just…know things.”

“You know things?”

“Right like, uhm, oh apparently Shakespeare didn’t actually write any of the works attributed to his name. Did you know that? William Shakespeare’s parents were illiterate - which doesn’t necessarily mean much because, perhaps he became learned later in life, right? However, William Shakespeare’s own children were also illiterate. I mean, what famous playwright wouldn’t teach their children to read? It’s all bollocks.” 

You had to catch your breath at the end of your tangent.

“That’s a bold claim.” Regulus said plainly. 

Fucking hells, was it hot in here?

“Right, well, erm. I have to go.” You said as you gathered your things and rushed towards the door.

“Uhm, Y/N?” Regulus called.

“Yes?”

“Your wand?”

You looked back at the table and, sure enough, your wand sat forgotten in your place. 

“Right, thanks. Uhm, best of luck on the rune’s translation. Let me know if you need help and erm, uhm, I - bye!”

You stayed out of the library for two days after that.

Which brought you to today. You decided to try to save yourself the humiliation and Regulus the hassle of having to sit with you by finding a different table. You would leave your favourite table to Regulus if it meant saving yourself the embarrassment of uttering absolute nonsense to your schoolgirl crush.

What you had forgotten, however, was how the world was absolutely 100% without a doubt out to get you.

“Mind if I sit here?” Regulus asked quietly, causing you to look up so quickly and, not being used to this table and unaware of the fact that you were sitting under a light sconce, you smacked your head rather painfully in the action.

“Son of a fucking dugbog.” You spat miserably as you rubbed at the sore spot already producing a lump on your head.

“Why?” You all but screeched.

Regulus tilted his head at you as one of his eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“Yes, why.”

“Why what?”

“Oh for – why do you want to sit with me?!”

He looked close to smiling as he scrutinized your form. “Do you not want to sit with me?”

“Of course I want to sit with you!” You admitted embarrassingly - and loudly - earning you a shush from the librarian.

“So, I can sit here then?”

You groaned and let your head thump onto the table in front of you – at least now you’d have a matching lump on the front of your head too.

“At the risk of me making a total and utter fool of myself? Sure, be my guest.”

You swore you heard him chuckle under his breath as he pulled the chair out across from you. You didn’t dare lift your head, however. Perhaps if you couldn’t see his piercing silver gaze, or his adorable black curls, or his stupid smirk, then maybe you wouldn’t be forced to say something ridiculous. 

“What? No fun facts for me today?” Regulus – the arse – asked from across from you.

You raised your head slightly, though left your shoulders at table level as you levelled him with a glare.

“You’re doing this to me on purpose, aren’t you? What, you get off on me making a fool of myself?”

Regulus smirked, though something in his eyes turned a little soft as he spoke. “I don’t think you make a fool of yourself.”

You scoffed and let your head fall back to its previous spot with a thud. “You’re an arse and a liar, Regulus Black.”

“Okay, perhaps you’ve been a little foolish.” He conceded, causing you to groan into the woodgrain of the table. “But I’ve enjoyed every second of it.”

Your head snapped up at that, and even Regulus grimaced as he watched you just barely miss the light sconce behind you.

“You’ve…enjoyed me making a fool of myself?” You asked incredulously.

Regulus moved his head back and forth in a sort of ‘so-so’ gesture. “I’ve enjoyed getting to listen to you. Why do you think I’ve been asking to sit with you all week?”

Apparently, your table wasn’t Regulus’ favourite table. Or at least, that wasn’t what made it his favourite – it was the fact that you had been sitting there that had made it so.

And ever since then, whatever table you were sitting at in the library – one would likely find Regulus Black there too.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.” 

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.” 

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice,  he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments. 

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else. 

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve. 

“No. Don’t worry about it.” 

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?” 

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using. 

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Well obviously something’s wrong.” 

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?” 

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?” 

“I’m not upset!” 

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-” 

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him. 

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon. 

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?” 

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins. 

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.” 

“It’s not a joke.” 

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time. 

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you. 

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-” 

“I didn’t get in.” 

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke. 

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock. 

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?” 

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!” 

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has. 

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.” 

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand. 

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation. 

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say. 

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?” 

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.  

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds. 

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” 

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-” 

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.” 

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive. 

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest. 

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to. 

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear. 

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you. 

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you. 

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed. 

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?” 

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving. 

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.” 

“Where?” 

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace. 

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.” 

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for. 

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified. 

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.” 

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home. 

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers. 

“You promise you’ll come home, right?” 

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too. 

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything?” 

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness. 

“Anything.” 

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.” 

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did. 

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.” 

Frankie, Present 

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point. 

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings. 

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you. 

Well, he can’t think about you as much. 

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him. 

He let you take the first  shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run. 

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you. 

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!” 

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.” 

“You barely run the mile in gym class.” 

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.” 

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you. 

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to. 

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans. 

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day. 

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement. 

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.” 

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings. 

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.” 

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.” 

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.” 

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.  

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).” 

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past. 

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible. 

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him. 

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer. 

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school. 

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too. 

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school. 

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble. 

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed. 

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to. 

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him. 

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”  

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage. 

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment. 

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him. 

August 18th, 2006

Frankie, 

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage. 

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe 

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL. 

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person! 

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha). 

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo. 

From, 

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line. 

October 13th, 2009

Frankie, 

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe. 

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet. 

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do. 

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.  

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie. 

Kenzie 

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay. 

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong. 

February 4th, 2011

Hey, 

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways. 

I guess I’ll see you when I see you. 

MacKenzie 

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business. 

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull. 

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done? 

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas Day 5: Open Doors

Character: Eli Michaelson (Nobel Son) Relationships: Eli x reader Warnings: smut, student/teacher hookup

Read on Ao3 or below:

You closed your laptop with a sigh. You’d tried pretty much every spot on campus you could think of, but everywhere was crowded and noisy, and you just couldn’t focus. You left the study hall with your laptop under your arms, trying to think of where you could go to get your coursework done. You needed somewhere quiet, somewhere no one would disturb you - preferably somewhere with a lock.

As you wandered through the halls of the college, you passed through the science block, and an idea struck you. It was a long shot, but you thought you might as well give it a go.

You found your Chemistry professor’s office door and knocked. After a few moments, the door swung open to reveal a frowning Dr Michaelson.

“Office hours are over,” he said shortly. He hesitated, though, looking you up and down thoughtfully. “…I might make an exception, though. What do you want?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Dr Michaelson, and I know this is gonna be a real cheeky ask…”

Dr Michaelson raised an eyebrow curiously and leant against the doorframe, his arms folded.

“I’m tryna do my math homework but everywhere on campus is so busy, I can’t focus. Is there any chance I could just sit in the lab to do my homework?”

“And risk knocking something over?” Dr Michaelson scoffed. “No chance. But… you could work in here.”

That took you aback.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Sure. Just keep the noise down, would ya? I got my own work to do.”

Dr Michaelson stepped back and opened the door, gesturing for you to come in.

“Wow, thanks, Dr Michaelson, I really appreciate it. I owe you one.”

You said this as you walked into the office, so you didn’t see the hungry smirk that teased at the corner of your professor’s lips when he heard that.

“Not a problem at all, [Y/n]. Anything my students need. Here - lemme make you some space.”

He gathered up some of the papers strewn over his desk to make some space, then pulled a chair around for you. You thanked him again as you sat at his desk next to him.

“Now, don’t go telling everyone they can do this,” Dr Michaelson said firmly. “This is a one time thing, you hear? You caught me in a good mood.”

You mimed zipping your lips closed. Dr Michaelson smiled, then turned back to his own work.

You opened your laptop and loaded up your math homework again. Finally, you were able to concentrate. You liked having company when you studied, but not the obnoxiously loud company that Stanford seemed to be full of today. It was nice having Dr Michaelson for company, because he didn’t disturb you, and you were able to really focus on your homework.

Although he was mostly quiet, you did hear Dr Michaelson grumble under his breath sometimes. After the third “fuck’s sake” from him, you had to glance over.

“Something wrong?” you asked with amusement.

“I hate computers,” Dr Michaelson replied with a grumble as he hit the backspace button aggressively. “It keeps telling me I’m spelling Musettamycin wrong.”

You peered over at the screen, where his word processor had put a red squiggle under ‘Musetamycin’.

“It has two Ts,” you said.

Dr Michaelson frowned at you. “I think I know how to spell Musettamycin, [Y/n]. I am a Nobel Laureate.”

“Yeah, in Chemistry, not English.”

He narrowed his eyes, then stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. He flicked through the pages, apparently found what he was looking for, and quickly put the book back on the shelf.

“Well done. You passed my test.”

He sat back down and added an extra T, and the red line promptly disappeared. You giggled.

“Do I get extra credit?”

Dr Michaelson looked at you thoughtfully.

“You get one chance for my help with your math homework.”

“Who says I need help?”

Your professor scoffed.

“You’re smart, [Y/n], but you ain’t that smart. You’ll need it,” he said confidently.

He turned back to his work, and you to yours - and, sure enough, eventually you came across a problem you just couldn’t solve.

“Alright, I admit it, I need help.”

Dr Michaelson leaned back in his chair with a triumphant grin.

“Well, well, well…”

“Stop!” you laughed. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

Dr Michaelson sighed dramatically. “Well, there are drawbacks to being a Nobel Laureate, I suppose. Everyone thinks you know everything - which I do. Come on, then, let’s have a look.”

He scooted his chair closer to yours to look at your screen.

“Oh, that’s easy. You gotta find a substitution to simplify it. Look at the denominator - what kind of substitution d’you think you need?”

“Uhm…”

Your mind went blank for a moment when you felt Dr Michaelson’s breath on your cheek. You realised suddenly that he’d scooted very close to you. He had one arm on the back of your chair, while with his other hand he pointed at one of the integers on your screen.

“Oh, er… trigonomic, right?”

“Good girl,” said Dr Michaelson, and you felt a strange shiver run across you, like he’d said some secret code to make you blush. He glanced at you, clearly noticing your reaction, and smirked.

“So… choose a substitution.”

He spoke softly, as if he were talking about something very different.

You cleared your throat and went to write out a substitution, trying not to get distracted by how very close to you he was. Dr Michaelson pulled his hand away from your screen… and rested it on your knee.

You could feel his gaze burning into you as you wrote out your workings, and when you paused, he glanced back at your screen.

“Good. Now, rewrite it in terms of theta.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do that when his hand was still on your knee… or when it began moving up your leg, his fingers grazing your inner thigh. Was your Chemistry professor seriously coming onto you right now?

“Good girl… so smart,” Dr Michaelson muttered in your ear. “I don’t think you need my help at all… you just wanted some attention, huh?”

You could feel your heart racing. Your cheeks were burning red, but it just seemed to spur him on.

“Is it really all that busy on campus, [Y/n]? Was I really your only option for some peace and quiet? I don’t think so…”

“I, um… I remembered you said the lab stays locked…”

Dr Michaelson chuckled, his deep voice reverberating in your ear.

“Mmm, and you wanted to get me behind a locked door, is that it?”

“N - no, I…”

You gasped as Dr Michaelson reached the top of your thigh, but instead of stopping, he just kept going, his large hand suddenly cupping your crotch firmly through your pants.

“It’s bad form to lie to your professors, [Y/n],” he whispered. “I could report you for academic misconduct, you know.”

He stroked you with his fingers, and even through the fabric of your clothing, it sent a tingling feeling right to your core.

“Dr Michaelson…”

“Call me Eli.”

“Eli… how do you know I won’t - ah!” - another squeeze from him - “won’t… report you for this?”

He smirked.

“Are you telling me you don’t want it, [Y/n]? Say you don’t want it and I’ll stop.”

He continued caressing your crotch, his fingers dancing dangerously close to your zipper.

“It’s… it’s bad form to lie to my professors,” you said, stealing a glance at him. His pupils were wide with lust, his confident smirk on his lips just begging to be kissed.

Eli chuckled.

“Smart girl.”

He unzipped your pants and slipped his hand inside, causing you to let out a high-pitched whine.

“Wet already?” he teased, his fingers exploring your folds as you tried to keep your lips closed tight, lest you cry out a little too loud and be heard in the corridor. “My, you are an eager little thing, aren’t you?”

He pushed two fingers between your inner folds, digging deeper into the wetness that was pooling between your legs. You bit your lip, your eyelids fluttering, and let out another whine when Eli’s fingertip found your sweet spot.

“You need to simplify the expression,” he murmured in your ear as his finger circled your clit.

Your eyes fluttered open, confused.

“I - huh?”

Eli nodded towards your computer screen. “Simplify it, then integrate with respect to theta. Then your integral will be straightforward.”

What the fuck was wrong with him?

What the fuck was wrong with you, for that matter?

He stopped his movements very suddenly, and you whined in frustration.

“Go on. Show me how clever you are.”

You tried to clear your mind and focus on the expression on your computer screen, but you were far more interested in the finger that was now circling your clit again, spreading your wetness around as you tried to remember what numbers were.

“Good girl,” Eli said again. He’d clearly figured out how weak you were to those words, and he was using them to his full advantage. “What do we do next?”

Finger me, you thought.

“Substitute back to x,” you said.

“Go on, then. You can finish it from here.”

As your fingers moved across the keyboard, his fingers moved down through your folds, and pushed at the entrance to your pussy.

“One more step. Go on.”

You cried out as his fingers slipped inside you, but you kept going, willing your mind to try and think about stupid numbers at a time like this.

“Root over four minus x squared,” you said aloud, trying to ignore the way Eli’s fingers were crawling deeper inside you, reaching out to find your G-spot.

“And then - ah! - plus C.”

You sighed with relief as you finished your answer.

Eli smirked.

“See? You didn’t need my help with math. But I do think you needed my help with this, didn’t you?”

The hand that was on the back of your chair reached around to slide under your arm and grab your breast through your t-shirt as he began pumping his fingers harder inside you. You moaned.

“You like that, huh? You like getting fingered by your professor?”

“Y - yes,” you admitted. “It feels so good…”

“You think this is good? Just wait ‘til you feel my cock… you’ll be coming back every day on the pretence of needing help with homework, but really you just need my cock.”

You let out a moan of his name, which seemed to spur him on, as he began fingering you more aggressively, his other hand pawing at your breast, as if he were resisting tearing your clothes off to get straight to your flesh.

You grabbed onto the arm of your chair to steady yourself, and with your other hand, you reached over to Eli’s lap to cup his hard length beneath his trousers, and you couldn’t hide your reaction when you felt how big he was.

“You want it, huh? You want my cock, [Y/n]? Go on, tell me you want it… all you have to do is ask…”

“P - please, Dr Michaelson,” you panted. “I need your cock. Please - please, fuck me on your desk…”

Eli groaned, overwhelmed with arousal at your words. He withdrew his hands from you, then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap. Your lips connected with his instantly, his arms wrapped around your torso, and you could feel his rock hard erection straining through his trousers, rubbing against your own far too clothed crotch.

He was a sloppy kisser, seemingly trying to get as much of his saliva in and around your mouth as possible. You reached down to unbuckle his belt, and he groaned with relief when some of the pressure on his cock was relieved.

“Fucking hungry little minx,” Eli growled as you fumbled with his belt. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? Fingering yourself to the thought of me… mhm, I know you have. Go on, get those damn pants off.”

He pushed you off his lap, and you obediently pushed your pants and underwear down past your knees, kicking them off along with your shoes while Eli finished opening his fly and pulled his cock out from underneath his boxers.

He hummed with satisfaction as he looked at you, pulling languidly on his cock as he took in the view of you, naked from the waist down, your pussy soaked and ready for him.

Oh, he had definitely found his new plaything.

Well, he’d better test her out.

He got to his feet and kissed you again, his cock brushing against your skin, his lips parting from yours only to pull your t-shirt over your head. He grinned when he saw the lacy bra you were wearing.

“Someone had a plan when she got dressed this morning,” he said smugly. “Did you decide to seduce your professor this morning or were you already planning it last night?”

“I like to wear this sometimes,” you admitted. “It makes me feel confident.”

“Mmm, and damn right too… God, those tits are so fuckable. Maybe another day, hm? I promised you my cock and you’re gonna get my cock. It’s what you deserve for being such a smart girl. Now - on the desk.”

You obediently hopped up onto the desk, perched on the edge, but Eli placed a firm hand on your shoulder and pushed you onto your back. You could feel papers sliding around beneath your back, and you had to push aside a stapler that was digging into your shoulder, but something about getting fucked by Dr Eli Michaelson on his work was incredibly hot.

“Look at you, fucking hell,” Eli growled as he rolled a condom he’d pulled from a drawer down his shaft. “You’re gonna get your slutty pussy juice all over my papers. Ah, well.”

He entered you with one fluid motion, causing you to cry out in surprise as his cock pierced your cunt, sliding easily up your walls, stretching them out with a delicious burn that sent your pleasure receptors wild.

Eli kept a firm grip on your thighs as he thrusted into you, groaning with abandon and no apparent care for who might be walking by.

“God, I fucking needed this,” he moaned. After his wife had left him and his last plaything graduated, he’d been going through a frustrating dry spell. And now here you were, presenting yourself at his office with your low-cut top and your tight little ass. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Oh, fuck - fuck, Dr Michaelson, that feels so good…”

He smirked proudly at your moans. He knew just how good he was at fucking, but he still loved to hear it.

“Your cunt’s full of my cock, [Y/n]… I think we’re on first name terms now.”

You laughed, which quickly turned into a groan of surprise when Eli pushed your thighs back further, spreading your pussy out for him as his hips pummelled into your flesh.

“How long have you wanted this, [Y/n]?” Eli asked. “Did you walk out of my first lecture with soaking wet panties? Or did it take you a few lectures to realise how badly you wanted my cock?”

“I - I always thought you were handsome,” you admitted. “Ever since I - ah! - saw your picture in the paper when you got your Nobel Prize. I saw you worked at Stanford and - oh! - applied for my postgrad here.”

Eli grinned, his ego swelling as much as his cock.

“You applied here just so you could fuck me?”

“No!” you insisted. “I was gonna go to UCLA, but I thought - mhm - if I came here instead, I could study under a - ah! - a Nobel Laureate - fuck!”

Eli picked up his pace, fucking into your cunt furiously, the stroking of his ego sending a fresh wave of lust over him.

“Mmm, now look at you - you’re certainly under me now, huh?”

The desk was shaking violently, papers flying everywhere, and you heard the crash of a pen pot falling to the floor. Neither of you paid much mind to it.

“I might just have to schedule some one to one tutoring with you, [Y/n]… since you went to such lengths to be under me. Would you like that?”

“Y - yes,” you panted, your voice straining as you felt pleasure coiling inside you. “I think that would be - ugh - beneficial… fuck, Eli, I’m gonna cum…”

“Mmm, yes, cum all over my cock,” Eli growled. “God, look at you… fucking magnificent… and all mine…”

He released one of your legs from his grip to press his thumb against your clit, and as soon as he began rubbing circles around the swollen bundle of nerves, you knew you were done for.

“Yes… yes… Eli…”

“Fuck, [Y/n], I’m so close… I’m gonna cum so fucking hard…”

His moans increased, his thumb rubbing your clit and his cock furiously fucking into your cunt, and combined with the look of unadulterated pleasure on his face, you felt yourself tipping over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your legs twitching and your cunt gushing around his cock as your orgasm overwhelmed you.

Feeling you cum around his cock was the last straw for Eli, and he moaned loudly as he came too, filling the condom with his seed as he continued fucking you through his orgasm, hips stuttering erratically as he came inside a cunt for the first time in far too long, and such a warm, tight one too.

Eli stayed buried inside you for a few moments as his movements stilled and you both caught your breath. Then, he pulled out of you with a loud squelching sound, and passed you a box of tissues to clean yourself up.

“Fuck, that was so good,” he panted as he pulled the spent condom from his cock and deposited it in the bin.

You mumbled what sounded like “uh-huh” in agreement, your mind still addled from the pleasure as you tried to mop up as much as you could from between your legs.

When finally you’d managed to locate your clothes and get them back on, Eli was sitting back in his chair, watching you with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Well, I’d certainly give you an A for that,” he said proudly.

You laughed.

“What, am I majoring in sex now?”

“If you did, you’d be top of the class.”

He passed you your laptop, which thankfully hadn’t been damaged by your escapades.

“So… reckon you need some one-to-one tutoring?”

You blushed under his intense gaze, his eyes still staring at you hungrily.

“If you think I need it, Professor,” you said coyly.

Eli grinned and reached around to give your ass a squeeze.

“My door’s always open for you, [Y/n].”

[karlachismylife]

Me: scrambling to finish homework before my linear algebra class

My brain: can you imagine fem!ghoap tho?

I can't, I'm my biggest fucking enemy. BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE FEM!GHOAP THO?

Fem!Soap has absolutely Harley Quinn vibes, batshit crazy with a sprinkle of pyromania and several decades of unmedicated ADHD. If Soap got his haircut inspiration from some local punk band in his hometown, fem!Soap was the leader of said band, adding to Mam's grey hair every time she returned with new tattoos. Was playing football, when a new kid tried outcasting her cuz she's a girl, went on to beat the shit out of him.

That story about a higher ranking officer Soap punched? Sleazy motherfucker was harassing other women on the base and was unfortunate enough to choose fem!Soap as a target.

Walks around in tank tops and sport bras, all muscle no boobs, probably has a couple fake teeth, always is the one fellow female soldiers turn to when they need to get rid of assholes in the pubs they go for drinks to. Absolutely relishes in being called a "fucking butch" and whatever else those pathetic men try to throw at her, quickly fizzling out when they realize her biceps is the size of their thighs. She worked hard to be better than them, no matter how much some of her family wanted her to be a bit more... traditional. Not her Maw, though, Maw always said if her little Jenny wanted to be a soldier, she could be a damn good one.

Regularly participates in armrestling matches (banned in several pubs where she got carried away and broke someone's wrist) and pays for the round whenever she wins.

All those girls (and some guys) hanging off her elbows, and everyone assumes she's going home with one (or several) of them every time.

And fem!Ghost? She might have a horrible reputation, people spreading disgusting rumors about her past and what's under that mask (doesn't bother her, truth is so much more gruesome). Keeps to herself, grim sense of humour doing nothing to make her seem more approachable. A looming shadow, the personification of horrors they tell about what war and captivity do to women - and that's for those who actually know she's a woman. Most people just assume she's a big fucking guy, loose hoodies helping pass, deep, hoarse voice - never came back as it was from the time with Roba, broken by her screams with an ugly scar on her throat on top - only adding to confusion.

Too much baggage to unpack, all those things done to her easier to cut off with the dirty blond hair she buzzes to avoid the fuss. Every chance of having a family robbed of her in horrific ways, loneliness feels safer. Easier. Everyone's better off without needing to bear all those tons of crap she hoards on her broad shoulders.

Sits apart from the main company on those outings, nursing her bourbon and freaking people out - if she gets hit on, she sends everyone off with a few words. Even Soap, the blasting (sometimes too bloody brightly) sunshine, seems to fail with illuminating that shadow, all her attempts to get closer shut down. Maybe not as harsh as the others, but Ghost thinks - everything she touches is destroyed in torturous ways.

Soap shouldn't suffer because of her.

Until one day the chair in front of her lone table gets dragged back with a disgusting screeching sound, a heavy thump signaling of a huge (drunk) body plopping down across. Ghost doesn't need to look up - she can detect Soap by the stupid mutt's loud breathing, for fuck's sake. How many did she have?

Too many, thinks Ghost when a tanned arm lands on the table, resting on the elbow in a ready to wrestle stand. Must've been some kind of bet, no one else brave enough to challange big Scottish butch - so bored Soap, naturally, comes to one person she probably deems a worthy opponent.

"Not gonna let me back out, are ya?" Ghost shakes her head with a chuckle and finishes her bourbon, putting the glass down lazily and forgetting to pull the mask back down.

Soap's arm hits the table so hard it nearly cracks the wood - mere seconds.

Disarmed by a crooked, scarred smirk her big blue eyes are so obviously glued to.

"What now? Buy me a drink?" Ghost tilts her head. There's a shocked crowd around them, someone collecting a hefty win.

"Buy ye two and ye owe me a rematch."

Stupid mutt with blue eyes. Ghost wonders if she'll whine like a puppy riding her burly thigh.

i have somewhat a part two here

[planetpedri]

Love ur work! How ab a lamine angst fic where things between them didn’t work out and now that he’s willing to try, reader is upset/confused bc why now

Toothache — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lamine wanted to try again—to give you his all, but all you could think about was ‘why now?‘

Word count: 1.35k

Disclaimer/s: angst , second chances , crying , messy past breakup.

A/N: I love writing angst ^_^~

Heavy breathing was what you heard the second you picked up the phone. You hadn’t bothered checking the caller ID, it was two in the morning and the call had woken you up from a deep slumber.

“Hello?” You mumble, clearing your voice to rid it of the sleep induced rasp.

“Hey, it’s me.” He didn’t need to introduce himself, you recognized his voice even if he whispered. Lamine wasn’t someone you could forget.

You were wide awake now. His voice shooting blots of energy throughout your body. “Lamine? It’s—“ You pull the phone away from your ear, looking from his caller ID, to the time at the top corner of your phone, “it’s two in the fucking morning.”

Lamine plays with the corner of his textbook, he’d been attempting to work on homework, but you were the only thing on his mind. “Yeah, I know.” His voice is quiet, like his mind was elsewhere.

Although you knew you didn’t have to feel concern, it was hard to ignore. “Are you okay?” You mirror his quiet voice, softening it to show your genuine care. Lamine’s heart felt heavy with guilt, he hated when you used that voice.

He knew he didn’t deserve the concern you’d always showed him throughout the years of knowing each other, let alone when you’d dated.

“Yeah, yeah.” He clears his throat, “can I come over?”

Your eyes fluttered shut. Not only were you exhausted, you also knew your parents wouldn’t like to see him showing up without their knowledge. “That’s not a good idea… we can meet elsewhere. I can come over, are your parents home?”

Lamine glances up from the kitchen table where he’d been doing homework, “yeah, but they won’t mind.” There’s a pause before he continues, “they miss you.”

Unnecessary. That did not need to be added, and Lamine knew that.

Rubbing your eyes, you climb out of bed, head tilted to the side to keep your phone next to your ear as you reached for a hoodie. Sliding on a pair of slippers, you reach for your keys on your desk. “I’ll be over in a few, do you need anything?”

You were always far too willing to comfort your ex. He’d called you like this many times. Mostly, he just needed your company, but sometimes he needed to talk to someone. For some reason, whether intentional or not, Lamine could only open up to you.

No matter how messy your breakup had been, you hadn’t been best friends for over a decade just to stop because he couldn’t put effort into an actual relationship.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

The drive was only fifteen minutes to Lamine’s house. You hadn’t played music, an unsettling feeling coming over you. This time, something felt different. Lamine’s tone was different.

Unbuckling your seatbelt and locking the doors behind you, you make your way up to the familiar household—one that you had at one point, practically lived in. You don’t knock, simply opening it slowly and slipping inside. Taking your slippers off, you pad your way into the dining room.

Lamine was staring at his texbooks, head in his head with an annoyed expression, which softened the second his eyes flickered up to you. “You’re here.” He smiles slightly, and you forced yourself to return it.

“Can we make this quick? I have work at nine.” You pull out a chair beside him. “What are you working on?” You ask, though you knew the answer as you had the same textbook in your backpack at home.

“Math.” Lamine answers simply, his eyes trained on you, memorizing your face as if he would never see it again. And, maybe after tonight, he wouldn’t.

Looking up to meet his eyes, you give him a questioning look. “So… what is it?”

“I’m ready.” He stops, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m ready to try again. I want to make this work. I will do better this time.”

Your body felt light, like he’d knocked the wind out of you. Your brain flew into over drive, millions of questions slamming against the walls of your skull. He was ready to try, again? After five fucking months?

You almost scoffed. Almost.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Your bottom lip tugs between your teeth, a smile forming on your face—not a happy one, but one of disbelief. “Lamine. We—you have had about a dozen chances! I’ve given you five months, and each time you weren’t ready. Why now?”

He had to battle the thoughts telling him to look away, to cower in shame. He doesn’t get a chance to speak, because you are still going.

“I love you. I haven’t stopped, but—I was nearly healed and ready to move on. This is so.. it’s selfish!”

Lamine’s fingers played with each other nervously. His lips pulling into a deep frown. “I love you, too.” He whispers, but you shush him. “Can you let me explain?”

You tap your foot against the wooden floor, thinking. Your head hurt, shit—your teeth hurt. Your heart hurt, everything hurt.

This was what you’d wanted for months, so why didn’t you feel happy right now?

The small whispering of your name called you back to reality. Rubbing your face, you finally look back to Lamine. “Sure, go ahead.”

He began his explanation, weak attempts to find an excuse for his past behavior. His mouth eventually shuts, a long exhale leaving his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He continues to repeat his apologies until your head falls onto the table out of annoyance.

Lamine watches you, taken aback by your dismissal. “I just want to show you I can love you like you deserve. Just one more chance, please?” His voice had thinned, little emotion showing other than desperation.

Shifting your head to the side, you glare up at him. “You make my life so God damn difficult, Lamine.”

He couldn’t stop the small twitching of his lips, “that’s not new.” His light hearted tone unfortunately had a small, almost unseeable grin threatening your lips.

“This is it. Okay? One, last chance. And if you fail, thats it.” You sit back up, “we are over, forever, if you mess this up.”

“I understand.” Lamine nods, eagerly. “I won’t let you down.”

Your eyes narrow at him before nodding as well. “Fine. We start new. You’ll take me on dates, ask me out, ask me to be your girlfriend. You will put more effort in than you’d ever had to put into anything before. No excuses, nothing.” Your rules were set and Lamine was more than ready to comply.

“Are you free tomorrow—“

“Nuh-uh.” You wag your finger. “You’re going to surprise me. And go all out. Pretend like it’s a fucking movie, I don’t care. Just.. show me you care enough so I can trust that you’re genuine about this—about me..”

Lamine agrees with a grateful sigh, “I will. I promise.”

“Can I go home now?” You look at the time on your phone; 4:04 AM. Your parents would be waking up in twenty-six minutes.

“Of course.” The boy nods, “goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” You hum, standing up and leaving the room without another word. A lingering sense of doubt flooding your heart the second you left, but it was overclouded by the genuine hope you felt for the first time in five months.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future lamine posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @joaoflms @ar4ujos @spidybaby !

[snoopyearss]

Here. Eren Yeager x F. Reader

content warning: suggestive!

Summary: Y/n isn't a party person. That’s not her scene. All she wants to do is stay in her dormroom and listen to slowed and reverbed songs and watch gaming videos on youtube. When her extroverted friends convince her to go to a house party, she’s forced to talk to people she normally doesn't talk to. When she goes to the car for some peace and quiet, someone, one of the most popular playboys at the university by the name of Eren Yeager, decides to keep her company. What could go wrong?

We're bringing back the 2020-2021 anime fanfictions vibes with this one. Alll the stereotypes of a college au fic is in this so spare me the bitching and complaining and just enjoyyyyy

Chapter 1: To Marley's

Your POV

I unlocked the door to my shared dorm with my roommates Hitch and Sasha. The three of us are inseparable, but if there’s a party happening at that very moment, they won’t hesitate to leave me.

No hard feelings though. I don’t like parties. Lame I know, but I can’t stand the idea of everyone in a small room, sweaty, and grinding on each other. Blech. But I digress. I walked into the kitchen and greeted Sasha, who was munching on some chips.

“You’re getting crumbs all over the floor. You know this university housing has a mouse problem.” I groaned. “Yeah, yeah I’ll clean it up. Later. How was class?”

“Fucking long. Nothing new. Professor Hange was talking for HOURS. I love her but geez the lady has energy.” Sasha laughed. “Keeps me awake though. Good thing it’s Friday. You get a break and maaybee, come party with us?” She slipped in.

“You’re not gonna get me to go to a party with you Sash. It’s not happening. I don’t do that.” I opened the cupboard to grab the last pack of pop tarts.

“Ugh come onnn!” She pleaded. “You’re always in that damn room. That’s all you do. For once, come out and have some fun! When's the last time you had se-”

“We aren’t doing this right now. Plus I got homework.” I broke a piece of the cookies and cream pop tart and put it in my mouth. “And that shit won’t be due until next Tuesday. What do you even plan to do anyways?” Sasha cleaned up the crumbs from the kitchen table.

“Well I’m gonna-”

“Wait, don't tell me. You're gonna put your LED lights on, listen to the same 5 slowed songs and watch gaming videos. I’m right, aren't I?” Sasha interrupted. “Well, I found one more song so make that 6. So you're wrong.” I stuck my tongue out at her.

“Hopeless. But I guess that makes you happy. Talk later?” She said while getting out of her seat. I nodded “I’ll get Hitch to persuade you.” She whispered as she walked to her room and closed the door.

“And you still didn’t clean these crumbs off the floor! I don’t want mice!” I yelled then got up to do it since I knew she wasn’t going to do it herself.

₊˚✩彡.

Pussy Poppers

Sasha

You guys wanna go to

That new restaurant that

Opened down the street

From the campus for dinner?

Hitch

ooohhhh

yes. i heard their burgers

were really good!

Y/N Loved “You guys wanna go to that new restaurant that opened down the street from the campus for dinner?”

Y/N

Yeah, let's go!

Sasha

Yaaaayy!

:))))

I locked my phone and put it on the charger and got ready. I put on some music and opened my closet. “I have all these pieces, but not an actual outfit.” I said to myself. Remind me to go shopping. After sometime I managed to get an outfit together then went to do my hair and makeup. I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

“Hey Y/n you got a- here you go with the same slowed and reverbed songs on repeat.” Hitch teased me. “You hating and for what ma’am?” I rolled my eyes.

“Anyways you got a tampon? I ran out.”

“Yeah, in the small drawer next to my desk.” She thanked me and walked out. As soon as I finished, I put on some shoes and walked out of my bedroom to see Sasha munching on the same chips.

“We’re going out to eat, why are you eating now?” Hitch questioned her. “Because I’m hungry? What the fuck?” Hitch snatched the bag from her hands.

“Let's go. And when we get back, clean up this mess please Sasha I’m begging. I don’t want Remy and his friends trying to steal ingredients from our kitchen.” Sasha laughed at Hitch’s joke and got up to put her shoes on.

“They're probably gonna show up as soon as we close this door.” I added and the two laughed. I let the both of them leave before me, as I closed the door and locked it.

We all got into Sasha’s car as we drove to the restaurant. “What’s this restaurant called by the way?” I asked. “I think it’s called Marley’s or something I’m not sure.” Hitch answered and I nodded.

“Y/n, you want aux?” Sasha turned off the bluetooth on her phone so I could connect.

“You're not scared I’ll put on the same slowed songs like I do in my dorm?” I said and they laughed. “Nah. You got good taste.” I went on spotify and put on a song from my playlist.

(Play Borderline by Tame Impala)

“Ooh! I love this song! Sash, turn it up!” Hitch squealed. Sasha indeed turned it up, and rolled the windows down.

It was a cool summer’s night. The wind blew through my hair and on my skin causing little goosebumps. I looked out the window. I watched as the sun went down behind the buildings and tall trees, as the sky became a soft blue and pink cotton candy color. I looked at the mirror on the side of the car, watching Hitch dance in her seat with her eyes closed, feeling the beat. I smiled and turned to look at the sky.

I lived for moments like these. Especially with my friends. Sasha and Hitch mean so much to me. Hitch and I were mutuals on twitter since we shared the same interests. I would like the tweets she wrote and she would retweet mine. Next thing you know we were texting in direct messages. We had facetimed on so many occasions so I knew what she looked like. We wanted to meet up in person and to our surprise, we only lived an hour away from each other. Thus, blossoming our friendship.

I met Sasha through Hitch as well. We both shared our love for food and that's how it started. I love them with all my being.

The song ended and we were coming close to the restaurant. It was PACKED. It wasn't a surprise, I mean, it just opened and it was right near our campus. Sash managed to find a parking spot and we all hopped out. “I can smell the food from here! It’s like I can almost taste it...” She drooled, Hitch shook her head at her. “Your love for food is so scary sometimes.” I joked.

We headed inside, Hitch asking for a table for three and insisting we get a booth seat or else she won't eat. I jokingly rolled my eyes. The waiter did in fact, give us a booth, and we took our seats.

Sasha looked at the menu. “This all looks so good! Ugh I can’t decide! What are you getting Y/n?” She raised her head to look at me. “Hmm. I’m not sure. Can never go wrong with wings and fries. But knowing me I might just get chicken tenders and fries.” I chuckled. “What about you Hitch?”

“Might get this flatbread pizza, the description is convincing me.” I nodded.

Our waiter showed up to take your orders. “Hello, welcome to Marley’s, I’m your waiter Marlowe, Can I get you guys started with some drinks?” We all told him. I turned next to me to see Hitch’s face bright red. Her head was down, looking at her hands placed on her lap, lips formed into a straight line.

“Uh oh. I know that look. You like him, don’t you?” Sasha teased and I laughed. “S-shut up no I don’t!” She stammered out. Causing Sasha to laugh harder. “Oh? Lie one more time.” I teased.

“He..he has a nice face. I guess” She grumbled. Causing Sasha and I to laugh again

After some time, Marlowe came back with our drinks and took our orders for our meals. Sasha of course, ordering more than one entree. One for now, and one for later.

During that time, we talked about our first week of classes and how college life was treating us, then two boys walked up to our table. “Ayo, is that Sasha and Hitch?” The taller boy said. His hair was in a mullet style, and had stubble on his chin and jawline. The other boy had a buzzcut hairstyle. His eyes were big and bold. Both of them were extremely attractive. Everyone here knew each other. Sasha told me they all grew up together. I transferred here so they were all new to me.

“Jean! Connie! Hiii! I haven’t seen you guys in foreverrr!” Sasha got up from her seat to hug them both and they hugged back. “We saw each other last week, when we went to the beach dummy.” Connie laughed. “What’s up you two?” Hitch also gave them hugs.

Well this is awkward. I’m just sitting here.

“This is our friend, Y/n. She’s new to the area.” Hitch introduced me. I gave a smile and waved.

“Woah,” Connie started. “Yeah woah. She’s bad.” Jean finished. I sheepishly smiled.

“I’m Jean, and that bald fuck over there, is Connie.” He introduced both of them, causing Connie to smack Jean’s head.

“Nice to meet you.”

“So, the school year started, meaning summer is ending. Which meansss…” Jean trailed. “End of the Summer party! At the frat house! Next Friday. Please tell me you guys are coming?” Connie finished.

“You know we’ll be there. Y/n too. Right?” Sasha eyed me. I rolled my eyes. I knew she would pull this shit.

“Nah.” I sighed.

“Aww c’mon. It’ll be fun! It’s the perfect way to start off the school year.” Connie beamed.

“How exactly? By getting drunk until you feel insanely sick, just to throw up everywhere, and feel like shit the next day? Yeah I’m good. Y’all be easy.” I ranted.

“So sitting in your bed, watching Corey Kenshin and Berleezy is your idea of a ‘good time’?” Hitch taunted you and laughed.

“Hey, they’re funny ok! And yes it IS my idea of a good time!” I scoffed.

“I mean, she does have a point. They are pretty funny.” Connie said. “See, thank you!”

“But seriously Y/n come onnn. Just come with us for a few, and if you don’t like it, we’ll go home.”

“This is mass manipulation! I feel attacked!” I joked. “Ugh, fine. Don’t make me regret this.” I sighed and gave in. They all cheered and I rolled my eyes. “Yes! Omg. You’re going to have so much fun! We gotta go shopping tomorrow.” Hitch squealed.

“It’s not until next friday? You guys have like a whole week.” Connie asked. “Stay outta women’s business.” Hitch snapped. Connie raised his hands in defense.

“No we should. I need new clothes anyways.” I shrugged and both girls jumped up in excitement.

“Ok, here are your meals. Oh! Hey Connie. Jean.” Marlowe placed the meals on the table, dapping the two boys up. “What’s up man? How’s the new job treating you?” Jean asked. “It’s great. I’m able to serve so many gorgeous girls.” he eyed Hitch, making her face turn red again. Sasha and I snickered. “Say Marlowe, you going to the End of the Summer party next Friday?” Sasha questioned.

“Yeah I’ll be there. You guys going?” We all nodded. He smiled. “Great. Then I’ll see you guys there. I’m on the clock so I’ll talk to you guys later.” We waved and he left.

“Alright, you two, leave. I’m hungry and I want to eat.” Sasha ordered the two boys.

“See you girls on Friday. Y/n, I hope to see you there.” Jean smirked. “No promises!”

They walked back to their table and we got to eating.

₊˚✩彡.

After we ate our meals and Sasha paid for the bill, we all filed in her car and went home.

I unlocked the door to our flat and kicked off my shoes. Hitch handed Sasha a broom and Sasha sweeped up the crumbs from earlier.

“I can’t believe we managed to convince Y/n to come party with us.” Hitch said in awe. “Yeah me neither.” I grumbled.

“You’ll have so much fun Y/n. I promise. This is like one of the biggest parties of the year. Jean, Connie, and Eren throw one every year. They’re legendary.” Sasha said as she sweeped.

I frowned. “Who’s Eren?”

Hitch cleaned the dishes that were in the sink. “Another one of our friends. He’s pretty chill. Just don’t piss him off. He can get kinda mean.”

“He’s also like a major playboy. Slept with almost every girl at our highschool and possibly here too.” Sasha placed the crumbs in the trash can. “He’ll see you as some kind of new prey so don’t let him get under your skin. And don’t get attached. He doesn’t do relationships.” She warned.

“Good to know. And now what does he look like so I can avoid this walking STD?” I questioned.

“Tall, long brown hair, usually had it in a man bun. Green eyes, has a brow piercing and some ear piercings as well. He also wears a key necklace.” Hitch described him.

He sounds kinda hot…

“And I know you’re thinking “He sounds kinda hot.” Don’t fall for it.” She warned once more.

“I wasn’t!” I scoffed. “Uh huh. Just be careful ok?” I nodded. Not like I was gonna make a pass at him or something. I’m not exactly boy-crazy.

“Now we got that outta the way. Wanna watch a movie?” Hitch asked.

“Sure!” Sasha and I said.

˖◛⁺⑅♡

I started writing this in 2021, after reading every eren college au I could find on wattpad.

[imaginarylungfish]

My Hero Academia fic recs

alright, this is the fandom i have the read the most fanfics for (and for which the ships i read for have expanded the most). they are organized by ships and sfw/nsfw. enjoy! and thank you fanfic writers!! (my favorites in purple. and my absolute favorite in pink.)

Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

sfw

The Color of Love: short 600 middle school AU fic where izuku and shouto do homework together

Keep Me Warm (It's a Cold Night): 1K fic about pro-heroes and husabnds Deku and Shouto cuddling after a long day at work

Morning: 1,100 cute fic where shouto asks izuku a question

Heart on Your Sleeve: 2,200 established relationship emotional hurt/comfort

It's Always Been You: 2.6K fic where izuku is avoiding shouto based on rumors of him having a boyfriend

The Idiot's Guide to Realizing You're in Love (...And Doing Something About It): 4K fic in which shouto realizes his feelings for izuku. background erasermic

Authored by WillWorkForSoba: 4K fic where shouto becomes a fanfic writer to cope with his feelings for izuku. featuring todobaku friendship [related to Smaller_Might Left Kudos on This Work!]

Smaller_Might Left Kudos on This Work!: 6K fic where izuku reads some tododeku fanfic and likes a specific fanfic writer in the process. background kiribaku and momojirou [best to read Authored by WillWorkForSoba first]

A Good Start: 5,500 fluff and angst with happy ending. (shouto doesn't like bakugo in this one.)

Rainbow: almost 7K fic where shouto comes out with the help of kirishima and kaminari's face paint

All According to Keikaku...........: 8,800 fluff and getting together

The Right to Be: 10K fic where enji accepts and advocates for shouto's relationship with izuku (mostly enji-centric)

If I'm Being Honest: 26K fic where shouto is hit by a truth serum and some classmates take him to mcdonald's and figure out his crush on izuku. some background kiribaku

nsfw

That Feel When Your Quirk is Also a Sexy Eldritch Horror You Can Only KINDA Control: almost 3K fic where izuku's blackwhip just has a thing for his boyfriend shouto

Got an Issue? Here's a Tissue: almost 3K fic where shouto has a hard time controlling his quirk because of izuku

But You Went to Fight Off Your Genetics: 3K abo fic where beta izuku needs some emotional support from his boyfriend shouto

Hit Me With Your Sweet Love, Steam Me With a Kiss: 10K quirkless college au with pining shouto and camboy izuku

Ten Years, One Torch: 40K fic where pro hero izuku returns to japan after working in america and realizes he is not over shouto. background class 1a friendships and kiribkau relationship progression

The Roots that Clutch: 296K pro hero slow burn (i'm talking 46 chapters, friends). highly recommend but damn, be ready for some heavy angst.

Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

sfw

Deserving: almost 3K fic where kiri gets hit with a mind-reading quirk (with some homophobia from mineta)

Authored By: GroundZero420: 3,500 fic where bakugo realizes his feelings for kiri through finding and subsequently writing fanfic [related to WannaRi0t Left Kudos on This Work!]

Not Yet: 4K oblivious bakugo realizing his feelings

WannaRi0t Left Kudos on This Work!: 5,400 fic where kiri reads some kiribaku fanfic and finds a specific fanfic writer he likes [best to read Authored By: GroundZero420 first]

Why Fucking Not?: 6K fic where bakugo has acute amnesia and thinks he and kiri are boyfriends

nsfw

Sweaty Palms and Swollen Knuckles: 3,700 poetic aged-up friends -to-lovers fic

So Spend Some Time With Me (I Really Like Your Company): almost 9K quirkless college au where bakugo and shouto go to hooters and bakugo is interested in a certain hooters waiter (kiri). background tododeku.

More Than I'd Like, More Than You Do: 25K fic where katsuki reunites with kiri after a year and things progress

Look At Me, I Hear You: 59K quirkless au with deaf bakugo and blind kirishima as roommates at a boarding school. the two realize their feelings for each other and learn how to navigate their relationship together. just lovely.

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

sfw

Souvenirs: short 500 fic where aged-up katsuki finds souvenirs for his boyfriends after a trip to new york

When You Know You Know: 1,400 of tododeku pillow talk fluff while squished next to katsuki on the bed

Accompanied by City Lights: 1,600 pro-hero established relationship fic where izuku has insomnia and his boyfriends try to get him to stay home and go to bed

This Love is a Sure Thing: 1,600 fic about pro-hero's izuku, shouto, and katsuki date night

To the Feeling: 1,700 fluff where pro-heroes izuku, shouto, and katsuki attend a hero convention disguised

Dinner Plans: 2,200 quirkless college (?) au in which izuku, katsuki, and shouto make some plans together

I'm Home (in Your Arms): 2,600 fic where aged-up katsuki and izuku pick shouto up from the airport. both established relationship and getting together.

Gezellig: 3K domestic fluff where izuku, shouto, and katsuki are pro-heros and dads

Love in Three Parts: 5K fic set during deku's dark hero arc. katsuki and shouto worry about him and everyone pines

The All Might Trivia Contest: 5K fic in which all might leads facilitates a class 1a trivia night. background erasermight and kamishin

I Was Hurting And You Knew (So You Showed Me What To Do): 6K fic where aged-up katsuki and shouto (established relationship) care for a sick izuku

Triptych For the Heart: 11K fic in which shouto is a pro-hero and a little lost, but izuku and katsuki are by his side

Communication Breakdown: almost 16K fic where shouto thinks he has two boyfriends but neither of them know. very funny and cute fic.

Bakugou Katsuki's Guide to Ignoring PTSD: 86K quirkless college au. katsuki has ptsd from a past car crash. he doesn't deal with it well, but his friends (and eventual lovers) help him along the way. great depiction of ptsd. background kamishin and miritami

The Distance of Differences: 86K fic where pro-hero izuku gets amnesia and doesn't remember he has two boyfriends. shouto and katsuki are so patient and caring to him. wonderful read. background erasermight.

nsfw

Small World: short almost 700 abo fic with omega shouto and alpha izuku and katsuki

Trains Run Late: 1,500 quirkless au fic where izuku makes out with a beautiful man (shouto) and his boyfriend (katsuki) at a bar

Without Me?: 1,600 aged-up fic where katsuki helps shouto get with izuku (and also himself in the process)

Mates: 2K aged-up abo fic where katsuki returns from a long shift at work and is greeted by his sleepy husbands (one being pregnant)

You're Okay, Sweet Prince: 3K aged-up fic in which shouto's boyfriends help him cope with his past

Before Dawn (I'm With You): 3K fic where shouto and izuku have food (and more) ready for pro-hero katsuki when he returns home from an overnight shift

Pandora: 3K pro-hero fic where izuku, katsuki, and shouto are trapped in a quirk-deactivating box

Beginning to End: 3,500 pro-hero fic where katsuki and shouto try to make izuku's birthday special

All or Nothing: 4K todobakudeku first time

Fluffle: 5K aged-up fic where shouto gets a fantasy fulfilled by izuku and katsuki

There's a Little Me That Lives in You: really creative 8K soul marks fic in which our boys are oblivious

I'd Love to See Me From Your Point of View: fun/funny 9K body-swapping fic

Touch Me, Touch Me Not, Touch Me: almost 13K fic where izuku, shouto, and katsuki each get hit with different quirks and need to figure out how to undo them

Rock, Paper, Scissors: 20K fic with pro-heros izuku, shouto, and katsuki being messy and drunk, and eventually getting together

When It's Sunrise: 22K pro-hero angst-with-a-happy-ending fic

In Media Res: 74K+ (still ongoing) bakudeku + todo slow burn into todobakudeku endgame. this is honestly my favorite todobakudeku fic, by a long shot. the pacing is superb. the writing and flow are just amazing. and the characters feel so real. i love love love it! (plus it has a companion called Interlude where we see other characters' POV's of main plotlines!)

The Beating of My Glass Heart: 209K angsty soulmate slowburn fic with happy ending. super good, but damn get ready for some angst.

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

sfw

(Not-So) Silent Loving: 2,400 cute fic about katsuki mixing up some words

Feels Like Home: 6K fic where class 2a has a party and izuku and katsuki get a little drunk

Sing One We Know: 33K post-war fic where izuku and katsuki navigate life and figure out their feelings for each other

What's Your Type: 20K pro heroes bakugo and deku go on a game show to test their knowledge about each other but miss one question... that leads to something more

Your Hand in Mine (In Every Universe): 56K really cool alternate-timelines-clashing au where we see different katsuki's realize the same thing about izuku

nsfw

Philophobia: 10K fic where izuku, and katsuki, take care of eri and eventually confess some things in the process

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sfw

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nsfw

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nsfw

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nsfw

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Carrying a Villian's Kid Arc I, Arc II & III: 16- and 25-chapter abo wip with mpreg keigo and touya figuring things out

[taeskooksbin]

BEGUILE ; kth

CHAPTER THREE

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The days went on like usual, the only difference was the amount of work I was putting in my studies, always having a book opened in front of me.

I'd take random assessments and everyone contributed in my studies equally, mom and dad randomly quizzing me, my siblings asking me several questions related to my subject.

All the questions were now looking pretty easy to me, even the test I attempted before was extremely easy and I'd occasionally cuss myself out for being so stupid but then again, I wouldn't have been able to meet Taehyung that way.

The awaited day comes around pretty quick and I chose one of the outfits that would be suitable enough to wear in front of a tutor but also 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 to have a man swoon over my body.

I threw on a brown bralette, over a brown net full sleeved top, the top did enough and showed off the bralette but it was also a bit faded and to match then I had beige pants.

I heard the doorbell ring and ran downstairs, clearly aware of who it was however before I got there, mom had already opened the door. There he was, all in his glory, wearing a black suit and his hair slicked back, revealing the forehead.

"Hey Taehyung" mom's voice echoed in the large living area while he smiled and replied back, "Hey Sofia, everything good?" He entered the door smiling at me, "Hope you're doing your homework?"

With a little grin, I nod and make sure to flash my dimples, which I am anymore enamoured with. Going straight to the point, Taehyung then suggests we immediately get to work. "I'd like to see how your studying has been going so far," he says as we walk towards dad's office.

"I feel like it's going well. But I thought so too the last time and look at me now," I chuckle. We enter dad's office, where I have set up everything like last time. But this time, I placed my chair a tad bit closer to his.

Throwing my hair over my shoulder, I expose my dainty shoulders and delicate collarbones.

I've always had this obsession with my own body. I always look after it and treat it with delicacy and care. That's why I love working out, it keeps my body in shape and healthy. On top of it, my skin is tight without a single mark on it.

But I wouldn't mind if Taehyung would fuck me roughly. I wouldn't mind gazing at the bruises he'd leave, them being reminders of the pleasure and pain I experienced.

"Let's see," he says, snapping me out of my thoughts. He grabs my papers and studies my handwriting, going over everything I wrote down.

"You changed your tactic," he says, making me snap out of my thoughts. "What?" I ask, confused. "I looked at the notes you took before your exam, and you have been writing this differently. Change your perspective on some things," he says, with proudness in his voice.

I smile, proud of myself as well. But having him praising me like this makes me feel incredibly good. And horny. "I do have some questions, though," I inform him. He nods. "Go ahead."

I start asking him some things I had trouble with while studying, things I didn't comprehend. "This would be so much easier if we were in Korea, where my head office is," he sighs and rakes a hand through his hair.

"You have one here as well?" I ask. He nods. "Yeah, I started a company a couple of years ago and have offices all over the country where I have a diversity of lawyers working. I have one here, but not all my documents are here," he explains.

"We could go to Korea?" I suggest. He looks up at me. "My parents have a loft there," I explain, "I sometimes stay there whenever I go to Korea.”

"That could be a good idea," he murmurs, and he seems to think about it. "We'll see how your progress is first. Right now, I don't think it'll be necessary based on your study method. On Thursday I'll give you a test and I'm positive you'll ace that one," he smiles.

I nod, slightly disappointed. I want to spend more time with him. "Okay, yeah, we'll see," I grin, even though it's a bit forced. It's a good thing I'm getting better at this subject, though.

"If it helps, I could take you to one of my cases, then you can see how it works." My excitement sparks up at the idea. "Really?" I ask. He nods, amusement displayed in those beautiful eyes. They seem like pools made out of honey.

"I'd love to," I smile, not able to contain my happiness. He returns the smile, and I find myself adoring the way his eyes light up when he does so. "That's settled then. I'll get you a place in court where you can watch it all going on."

"Thank you so much," I tell him, genuinely happy that he's willing to do this. "Of course, Sweetheart," he grins. Him calling me Sweetheart is doing some things to me. I send him my sweetest smile, hoping he'd glance down at what I'm wearing, but he doesn't.

He focuses back on what's in front of us. My teeth sink into my lower lip, trying to hide my disappointment. His phone suddenly starts ringing, making our heads both snap up. "I'm sorry, I have to take this call," he apologises.

I nod. "It's okay," I smile and watch him getting his phone out of his pocket and picking it up. "Ciandra, hey darling."

My heart clenches together at the words leaving his mouth, those words being reminders that he's in a committed relationship. He turns a bit away from me. "Yeah, I'm kind of in the middle of something," he tells her. I suppress a smirk.

Guess I'm more important at the moment, bitch. "I know, honey. I'll call you later. I'm helping Vincenzo's daughter," he tells her. "Love you too, baby. By now."

He hangs up and stuffs his phone away. "I'm sorry, that was my girlfriend," he chuckles. "It's okay," I lied and forced a smile.

For the rest of our time together, Taehyung just approves of everything I've done already. He suggests some things I could do better, to improve my studying and better ways to remember some things.

"I'll see you on Thursday," he says and gets up. "Yeah, see you on Thursday," I smile and walk him to the front door. "I'll tell you more about the case you'll be joining then," he says right before he leaves.

"I'm looking forward to it," I smile and wave him goodbye. Once the door is closed, I let out a little sigh and make my way into the kitchen.

Chris and Elena are bickering over something | could care less about, and dad is bothering mom while she's preparing sandwiches. I smile at their cuteness.

"How was it?" mom asks as soon as she sees me. Dad looks up, his dark eyes meeting mine. I always wondered why I didn't get the alluring eyes from dad. They hold something that draws you to him.

Instead, I got a mix of green with brown, making them a hazel-brown. But they turn green as soon as sunlight hits them. "Good," I answer, "he approved of my study method and told me I was doing a good job."

She grins at that. "That's amazing, sweetheart. I'm sure you'll get through this exam," she tells me. I take a seat at the counter and nod, my mind wandering back towards the handsome Korean man.

If I keep studying like this, I'll ace all the tests and exams coming my way. But that means that the tutoring will stop soon enough, which leaves me disappointed.

A little smile finds its way towards my cherry lips as a devious idea pops up in my mind. But what if I made mistakes on purpose?

━━━━━━━━━━━

I ring the doorbell, and after a couple of seconds, the door opens. "Hey," Alex smiles once he takes me in.

I send him a cheeky smile. "Hey," I replied and pushed him inside. "Are your parents home?" I ask quietly. He shakes his head. "No.”

"Good," I smile and connect our lips. Alex isn't bad looking at all. We always went to the same high school and had a flirty interaction with one another.

He's your typical local guy, with defined features and brown hair. Freckles are scattered across his nose and he has a pair of decent lips.

And his dick is pretty good, too.

He pushes me against the wall and hoists me up against it, wrapping my long legs around his hips. A whimper leaves my lips when he starts rolling his hips into mine, creating the friction I needed for so long.

He takes me upstairs, to his room where he throws me on his bed. We rid ourselves of our clothes and soon enough, we're both naked.

"Cut to the chase," I breathe out when he's planting kisses on my inner thighs. He chuckles. "Alright," he rasps out and takes the condom, rolling it on his length. He wastes no time and plunges right into me. My back arches off the mattress.

With his hands steadied next to my head, he starts to move in and out of me. His tongue enters my mouth, battling against mine.

Our sweaty bodies collided, moving in sync against one another. I soon turn us over and am on top of him. Throwing my head back, I start moving up and down.

But instead of Alex laying beneath me, I'm imaging a certain Korean man fucking me. I find myself going faster and harder.

Hands are planted on my ass, helping me move up and down his length. Whimpers are escaping my lips, and his name almost slips from my parted lips.

"Just like that, Sweetheart," is what I think he'd say. The thought causes another wave of pleasure to wash over me.

I open my eyes and peer down, seeing Alex's face instead of Taehyung's. His eyes are closed and his head is thrown back. It doesn't take long before we both find our release and I collapse beside him.

I catch my breath, and so does he. We're both entangled in the bedsheets, just enjoying each other's company.

"What's wrong?" I ask after some time and turn my head to look at him. His somber mood didn't go unnoticed by me. "Nothing," he answers, a sad look taking over his features. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him.

I've always liked this about him. He likes to cuddle and so do I, so this is the first thing we do after we've had sex. "Tell me," I encouraged him. "I'm in love with a girl I can't have."

My heart saddens at the words leaving his lips. I lift my head and peer at him through my lashes, meeting his blue eyes. "Who is it?" I ask. A sad smile forms on his lips. "Kate."

My lips part in surprise at the mention of his best friend. "But isn't she already dating..."

"Logan? Yeah, I know," he sighs and averts his eyes. I furrow my brows. "I'm so sorry," I whisper and press a kiss against his cheek. "It's okay," he sighs and tries to show me an encouraging smile. "How's your summer vacation going this far?" he asks.

I shrug. "My exam results were shit, and now I'm being tutored by my dad's hot lawyer." Alex cracks a smile. "Why don't you fuck him?”

"He has a girlfriend," I answer. "I see. Been there, done that," he sighs. "Good thing is that he's willing to take me to some of his cases, so I'll be learning a bit more," I murmur.

He hums. "Yeah, that's good," he smiles, seeming happy for me. I lick my lips. "We should hang out with our group. It's been so long since we've last seen each other," I tell him. He nods. "Yeah, maybe. But that would mean bringing Kate and Logan. I've always seen him as a friend, 'Ella. But I just can't wish them the best, even though I want to."

I nod. "Yeah, I understand," I mutter and lay my head back on his chest, my brown hair sprawled all over the silky pillows.

We always had a tight group of friends during high school and we stayed in contact during our first year of college, which I appreciate. But I can tell Alex is having a hard time seeing his best friend dating someone else.

I wonder how I didn't notice before.

After some time, it's time for me to leave. I get up, showcasing my naked body. I catch a glimpse of it in the mirror and am satisfied with what I see.

I put my clothes back on and put my hair up in a ponytail. "I'll see you later," I say as Alex walks me to the front door. "Yeah, I'll text you," he says. We hug each other before I exit his house and get into my car. I wave one last time and take off, driving towards my house.

During the drive back, my mind wanders to Taehyung. It's only the third time we saw each other, I'll get him to kiss me. Eventually. It's kind of a challenge. I don't want to fuck him to see if I can get a taken guy, of course. But I want to see if someone is strong enough to resist me.

Shit, fucking Alex didn't solve my problem. I'm still thinking about him. I wonder what it is about him that makes me crave him so badly. For one, it's his looks. But something about him lures me in.

Could be his intelligence. I love the way he explains things. Could be his voice. But I just wonder if he has a side to him he doesn't show to anyone else.

A side that yet has to be... freed. And I'd be happy to be the one to unleash him.

• ━━━━━ ★ ☆ 𖤐 ━━━━━ •

• ━━━━━ ★ ☆ 𖤐 ━━━━━ •

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[plasticfangtastic]

Can we Be Lonely Together? Ch. 2

A Homelander x Stalker!Reader fanfic

This is a gender neutral fanfic but deep down its just a Homelander X Joe Goldberg fic do with that as you wish. This is a slow burn fic btw

PLZ FORGIVE ME I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PUT A READ MORE OPTION ON MOBILE SO SORRY IF THIS LOOKS LENGHTY.

Summary: We were two mices pretending to be cats, weren't we?

We Didn't expect to find ourselves int his situation, But John... Homelander... You were perfect... none of this was a lie, these feelings are genuine! So I don't know why you're using such words... stalker... pyschotic bitch? Insane... Liar!? to describe me, after all I've done for you-- Us!? all I done to help you!?

You were wrong.

I just yearned to get closer so what if I did my homework? After all you played along. I knew you knew... you were so loud

R18: TW murder mention, CSEM mention.

Chapter two

Financial Advice for Crooks.

I had my vices.

Life hadn’t been easy, I had limited options and limited paths for the longest time so when I finally had a taste of anything but misery I sank my teeth in its throat, I settled my nest in a corpse of my past– I found my calling. Got my groove on, and began to move up in my way to hell. I made my money, and I made connections, and eventually I got used to this lifestyle.

I thought you would’ve been impressed by how good I was at my job… 

So I came to New York for business. It wasn’t cheap, but unlike the usual dreamers… they didn’t come to this city with a terabyte of crap to blackmail their landlord to lower their rent seventy-five-percent below street average. So I treated myself to the finer things, expensive things… short lived things… so all the meals and wine money could offer, material things didn’t last, but I wanted to feel good… the sort of good where sex doesn’t compare, beside I could never be loved or love… until I met you.

So I devoured with gusto all the Michelin stars, critics recommendations in the Times, highest rated Yelp! review joint, hidden gems, and anything that failed to include the price on the menu... I lived for once. 

For I was starved… until now.

So there I was in some bloody fucking warehouse tied up, my left arm dislocated and a five inch nail adhering my palm to this facebook marketplace find of a chair.

Let’s not even discuss the state of my face.

“You think you can rob me!? I gave you my trust! I welcome you into my family! I let you babysit my fucking kids! And this is how you repay me!? Stealing from me!?” His voice was louder than any thought around me.

I could hardly see or hear anything, my eyes swollen and my ears throbbing, hot, stiff, my shoulders burnt, my hand itching, and screaming.

“I’ll… I’ll pay…”

“Doesn’t change anything, kiddo. If I let you live then word gets out in the streets that you can disrespect me, and sail smoothly!”

“I’ll pay you double the interest! Come on Roman! I fucked up!” I can barely think, my mouth is dry and wet– I can get you something good!” My throat rips itself apart trying to speak to this suited hooligan.

“Like I care… get this bitch out my face.” he said to some goon behind me.

“Vought! I can get you Vought!”

It's always on your mind. You become a petulant child when it comes to Vought– your biggest competitor.

“Excuse you?”

“Edgar is on his way out. The market is going to be in a panic, no?” I spit drool and my teeth– word is that Homelander will take the helm… you think that homeschooled twat can manage to run one of the biggest companies in the world? I’ll get you the trading secrets… I’ll get.. you anything…”

“How do you know Edgar is out? What are you saying?”

“My FBSA contact… they didn’t pay up, so I gave them a visit… and that Neuman chick was so fucking loud. Something about a big press release in a couple days, they’re gonna arrest Edgar. The Homelander wants him out.”

“Why do you have a contact in the FBSA?”

“I wanted to pay you… needed some Supe to blackmail…”

“You’re lying.”

“Keep me alive until you see the bitch on the news. Help me get a job at Vought. I’ll get you something worth more than One-Hundred-K.” I plead, my voice a tire running out of air– please… Roman… please I beg you… believe me one more time! even I wouldn’t lie about this.”

It might’ve been the fantasy that gave him the capacity to hand mercies for he kept me alive in that warehouse for two days, for your new girlfriend was on the TV hitting Edgar like an avalanche.

Cut to, three weeks later, there I’m in business attire sitting across an exhausted HR rep who can’t believe his boss is making him do this, behind the almost perfect smile, and the mundane questions he had already hired me, my resume was perfect and seeing the urgency pulling at his leash even if my resume hadn’t been finely crafted, your company would’ve given me the job. The department was stressed while being examined closely by the shareholders, the whole company was frantic.

I got the call by the end of the week.

By Monday there I was walking into that massive hundred plus storey behemoth of a tower, worse than any fugly billionaire row structure. I saw why people were impressed by this butt-plug of a building, just sucking on the land around it, hogging all the air space with its glass ‘Seven’ and its name illuminating the airspace, big enough to have its own gravitational pull and New Yorkers were the moons running laps around it.

Before I knew it I was dragged around by security to receive my special keycard with my fake name and all, then met the highest qualified person in this department, some sweet anxious thing called Anika, you know her– if not the smell of adrenaline she gives off when you’re around.

It seems people here were allergic to sunlight– any light actually! This couldn’t be good for anyone's eyes.

She handed me a desk, and well everything after that must be quite boring for you, so let me TDLR…

There was a reason why I chose this department. I could’ve aimed to be an assistant, worked in any other department, even been the fucking janitor and I would had been able to fulfil my task, but I knew that Vought had all the resources and cutting edge technology to get the fuck away from Roman Ban and Banvision Global. In here I’d forge a new name, destroy all trace of my existence, what little there was of my digital fingerprint, and above all… I could make money.

It wasn’t difficult. 

So I started with Kevin… sorry I meant… The Deep (ugh) his mind was easy to navigate, behind the mountain of cetacean erotica, self-loathing, bisexual worries, genuine environmental worries, his abs and octopussy fantasies– it didn’t take me long to find out his social security number, his bank account passwords and numbers, social media passwords, both private and public– did you know he had an account in the Jeremy Renner app? Anyhoo… I had all I needed written in sparkly ink, and swirly cursive. 

I simply had to sell some tabloid his web search history, or transfer small amounts at a time to an offshore account, small enough to go unnoticed disguised as his usual transactions, he had several trials and memberships he had yet to cancel-- I pitied Deep to a degree we both had been bad with money. I just didn’t spend most of my money donating to cults and environmental causes. 

As the days went by I collected passwords and keys from all suits worth a damn, and did my job to cancel those memberships diverting them to me, and taking small amounts, collecting and crafting packages to blackmail them, sending personalized emails demanding ransom, etcetera.

But I had a guy ready to kill me to prove a point, so I kept working.

The more I saw my plan coming together, the more brazen I became. I thought I’d be there for a month at most… so there I was staying till late. My mind still assaulted by the discovery of the depth of the Deep’s depravity, and his annoying wife, this wasn’t my first introductory lesson into bestiality… that had been in the fifth grade at a Wendy’s parking lot when my powers were at their worst– and he wasn’t the only person on this floor that indulged in filth, not even the worse kind, the worse was that lady in IT storing a hard-drive with the sort of shit, that will have the FBI shutting down Vought for a couple days to investigate why there’s kids stored in the company servers– which… I did… tell Roman about.

“Excuse me?”

I had forgotten till now.

“Yeah… Joanne in IT… you should… keep Ryan away from that floor, just saying ‘cuz she ain’t ugly and he’s vulnerable.”

I’ve never seen you so pale, almost as pale as the corpse next to the couch.

“Anyways I was saying…”

I love how family oriented you are. The way your heart was racing just now, the way your jaw twitched for a second, it was sweet how much you cared.

“There’s also that guy in security who’s been stealing shit to roofie girls.”

Your pretty blonde locks felt to the side of your forehead, as you cocked your head confusedly.

I sat in that screen lit room, waiting for the building to get as quiet as it possibly could. There were always people in this place, sleepyheads and night shifts. This place had become less phallic and more a living organism, every hallway and room serving a function to keep it erect non-stop.

Curiosity won over me and I love obscene indulgences, I have an appetite for things that do me no good. So I knew a place I had to see So there I’m in the elevator knowing the floor is mostly empty, and knowing I had the floor all for myself, knowing where every soul was placed and the password to erased the security footage (plus I had already blackmail the right security guard) I headed upstairs to a special place.

The ninety-nine floor.

Walking across the golden marble, crossing the wooden frames and the gallery of greatest hits with no artistic value intrinsic to them– I saw the statues guarding the Seven’s boardroom, and found an unlocked sliding door. The silvery "Seven" table, with all its sharp edges, the famous chairs every supe in the world wanted to sit down on– not me. 

I wasn’t pretty enough for the pageant circuit, my parents were… disappointed… to say the least… found me creepy, repulsive even! saying I kept them hostage in their own home, unable to keep anything hidden. I tried to control my powers until they could forgive me, anyone…could forgive me, so I never imagined myself in this room, much less in spandex.

So I sat on your chair, at the helm turning to see the best view of the big city.

Your statues and your painting staring down on me, you were unbearable, just a pretty blond in tights, with a padded suit even for your dick as if you needed protection from upcoming kicks to the balls. Everybody feared you, and if they didn’t they wanted to be you, you seemed so far up your ass– and all your staff simply indulged you, afraid that even an atomic bomb couldn’t stop your tantrums. Too afraid to tell you… even if your name was on the door, you weren’t running shit. All the actual work was done by your former assistant it seemed, just delivered dumbed down to your level by the time it reached this table for you to play pretend, and feel like a big boy. 

I was surprised you could even read, but then again you could shoot lasers out of your eyes and if rumor was true your piss was acid– so Jesus knows I wasn’t going to question it.

Your chair was comfy, and I bet all those numbnuts wished they could sit on it.

The view was worth it, I could see why people liked this stupid city– did my job and ate quickly but I wanted more… so thankfully I had a good book on my kindle and a juicy chapter to unfold.

Looking at the clock I cleaned myself and began heading out, my mind finally shutting down, it was the only way I could sleep, Soon I would’ve been awake trying to hold my head together… I know you were at my house so I know you saw the valium next to my bed, and the mix-and-match bags of sleeping pills.

I should’ve looked at the clock better, I should’ve hung in there, freely disrupting my routine willingly. It was nice to hear nothing, just the sound of my wispy breath and my loafers squeaking, in this silence I failed to notice you.

I failed to notice you had entered this place at all. Did you find it hard to sleep? Did you step outside your enclosure looking for enrichment? I wasn’t thinking that when I stepped into the elevator with my eyes glued to my phone, you weren’t on my radar. 

My heart nearly burst out of my chest at the sight of red gloves holding the door.

My bladder nearly emptying itself.

When your frame came into my general vicinity. I swallowed hard. Still had some cheese caught behind my teeth.

Nervously I looked up, catching the back of the American flag and your shoulder pads. Golden eagles caging me, frosted tips right before my eyes, and your hand pressing on the elevator going up.

My hand still hovering near the control panel aching to press down, your collar creeked as you turned to look at my insignificant presence.

“What floor?”

How polite, your voice so quiet, guess you hadn’t noticed me either.

“Ground… thank you.”

Your perfume was virtually non-existent, you were warmth, sunflowers and cotton. I had cats to kill it seems for I looked up catching your disturbed reflection in the chrome. Your eyes somewhere else, something about that picture made me too curious.

I turned it back on: feeling the burst, holding a wince behind my teeth. I found myself leaning against the wall, your ear picking up as I held my head lightly.

You found me annoying, dramatic, loud. I held back my breath as I fixed myself in the corner, just out of fear.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” 

I’m dead. I thought

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing you are!”

I…I…I am sorr– I began to mumble.

You weren’t saying anything, but it was you speaking. Screaming at yourself. 

That voice so rough and you became so meek, I took a quarter step forward-- in this small box I could do more than just listen, in the chrome your face moved, it spoke and walked in his few feets of space looking down on you, taunting you, remind you of today’s failures listing them as if he was your mother in the middle of math homework.

You could cry.

You wanted to cry.

You were a wave, a wave pulling me further into the sea and I had no idea how to swim any longer. How? How could you see yourself like this? Why do you let him act like this? 

When had you turned to see me? Had my leaning been too noticeable, could you smell the provolone in my tongue? My lips shakily pursed upwards.

It seemed the voice faded away.

“Did you get lost?” You looked directly at my badge.

“Heard they had mints in this floor’s bathroom.” where’s my fucking oscar!? 

Homelander mouth half open, too tired to react just shaking awkwardly but your half closed eyes watched me curiously.

And finally I saw your face.

Your eyes were so tired, everything about you looked exhausted, your posture kept straight by your suit pulling you up, but when your lip indulged in the joke. 

Magic.

My heart sang a song made in your honor, my cheeks so flushed it made me itchy. 

The elevator stopped but you didn’t leave when the doors opened, your finger pressed lightly on the right command.

“Who are you?”

“A corporate spy sent to steal trading secrets for your competitors”

You bombarded me with a singular warning “Don’t lie.” I lived in a world where nobody could lie to me, it got boring, it got insulting, hateful, cruel, so I wasn’t going to lie to you, not when I knew you wanted to decompress… with my spine.

You laughed.

It was so cute– you moved in slowmo.

You took a step back, listening to my unfazed heartbeat, I told you the truth but you heard a joke, maybe you needed a laugh for that voice was back to pestering you.

“I’m new. I was curious about the Seven’s gallery… sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.” You said with a jovial tone so threatening it reverted to being sweet– got it?”

Not a single picture, drawing, GIF, fancam, etcetera. Did ya justice, I could see it now… why everybody fawned over you, but I saw something else.

Behind those blue eyes.

Was the loneliest man in the world.

Your mind I wanted to peek more. I wanted to speak and decipher that voice in your head, I wanted to see why you hated those people under you, I wanted to understand what made you so upset that no matter how much you tried threatening me, it wouldn’t… it wasn’t making you feel any better.

“I’m sincerely sorry.” I said barely whispering but you heard it crystal clear– hope you have a goodnight Mister Gillman.”

The doors began to close as your eyes widened and your lips shaped an ‘O’.

I could’ve sworn your cheeks turned pale and pink.

Mine were candy apples, for once… I regretted saying Good night.

[itsnotaphasemomitsanobsession]

To all the tropes I've loved before

✨ Quality fic recs under the cut ✨

✨ If I could read only one trope for the rest of my life, it would be soulmate fic. A treasure of unfounded proportions ✨

Soulmate fics:

Vortex (T): TW: anxiety, brief mention of self harm, nonconsensual drug use (medical abuse in the form of over prescribing medicine). I've read this one several times because of how lovely I find it. The gentle love between Harry and Draco just does something to my cold dead heart. This fic has it all: Auror Harry, Down and out Draco, Teacher Draco, fluff, angst, and just the right amount of soulmate tomfoolery. Read also the authors part two of the fic: Riptide(M).

Everything a Word can Mean (T): Everyone is born with the nickname their soulmate uses for them tattooed on their body, Harry's just so happens to be something everyone calls him. I love this little fic so much, it's really sweet and fluffy and everything you need for a Saturday morning read!

Punch-drunk fingerprints (T): Cute and fluffy fic where if you touch your soulmate it leaves a mark on them. Draco just so happens to get pulled through a corridor with Harry tugging along.

Eighth year fics:

✨ These fics are either the sweetest most fluffiest fics or they are the most heart wrenching fics of all time and I love them with every fiber of my being ✨

Swish and flick (T): If there's one thing to know about me, it's that I LOVE roommate fics and this is a sweet one. Harry and Draco in this are really sweet and I feel like this fic needs to be on everyone's TBR right the frick now.

Inside Your Mind (E): TW: PTSD, use of sex as a coping mechanism (it does get better later), severe bullying. Coming back 8th year has been hard on Draco, but Greg is there to "help" by acting as bodyguard. Harry is pretty sure that's not really helping any. It's a sweet, sad and lovely fic that shows the love of friends and their willingness to keep you safe, but also how those friendships can blossom into something better and healthier. An absolutely beautiful fic and top notch smut if you partake!

Good Company (T): Such a sweet fic of Harry and Draco being friends in their 8th year. Harry feeling like the third wheel to Ron and Hermione falls into a friendship with Draco and Draco is just trying to get through the year. It's very very cute and I'm a big fan!

Lessons in Grace and Decorum (not rated): TW: power dynamic related consent problems, forced proximity, use of torture on purpose and on accident, self worth issues and depression. This is an oldie but a goodie, you will have to read it through a Google doc but it's really really good. Draco sees his dead mom and she gives him advice on how to make friends. It's sweet, sad as fuck and I've read it so many times I just have it permanently downloaded onto my phone.

Quiet (E): TW: implied sexual violence and abuse. Draco and Harry just vibe in the Slytherin common room and drink, gaze longingly at each other, maybe do some homework and play quidditch. There's also a cute little ficlet that is in the same story line, it's cute and it's ginny x pansy (big fan) so check out peripheral.

The In-betweens (T): Harry and Draco are roommates in 8th year. Surprisingly they get along pretty well, Draco sings dirty dancing in the shower and Harry likes it. I love this fic so much and I hope each and every one of you puts this on your TBR right this instant!!!!!

Job fics:

✨ Nothing better than older gay men finding love in what they do and also finding love in each other. Extra points if Harry isn't an Auror and Draco has an odd creative job ✨

The Snitch Maker (T): Draco makes snitches and Harry works for the Quidditch Union for the Administration and Betterment of the British League and its Endeavours. It's really cute and a little silly, Draco is very fun in this and Harry is an ex-auror with a disability. It's very sweet and worth the read

Chasing Shadows (E): TW: homophobia, death, and internalized homophobia. Draco works in a muggle bar and hasn't been in the wizard world for awhile, Harry works as an Auror and his next case is the death of Lucius Malfoy. Very very very good fic, features Harry coming to terms with his sexuality, an openly homosexual Draco and a series of fun OCS that make the fic very charming and worth the read.

Draco from the Wireless show (T): Very much a Welcome to Night Vale type of vibe. It's interesting and funny and just slightly odd which I love a whole lot. Draco in this is silly and a bit of a hermit and Harry is just trying to figure out why this town is so odd? I recommend this for days where you really need something silly to lift your spirits!

✨ please please please make sure you comment and leave kudos on the fics that you enjoy to let the authors know their worth!!!! ✨

[chaoticstrata]

WIP (?) Gamer AU

Theron moved his character out of the way of a ground AOE while maintaining his rotation--thank the Stars for being melee. His party mates did the same, except for their black mage, who used their teleport at the last second to maximize their DPS in their runic circle. He rolled his eyes as they cursed over the comms when they got clipped by snapshot damage.

“You should have moved sooner,” one of their healers chastised as they placed a restoration spell on the mage.

“I was casting!” the black mage argued.

“Ok, and how much casting are you going to do tanking the floor?” the healer quipped back.

“Why you…”

“Clear the comms, you two,” the other healer and co-raid leader said, his pleasant, gravelly voice commanding and cutting off any further argument. 

Theron couldn’t help but grin at that. He loved how Oram--the co-leader’s character name--took charge of situations like this, nipping them in the bud before they got worse. Not to mention, he loved hearing the other man’s voice; it was the first thing that attracted Theron to him--among other things. He’d never tell the other man that, of course--Void knows he was already awkward enough around the healer as it was. 

The next mechanic started, as did the next call-out. “Tank buster, collapse.”

Thankfully, the rest of the raid went uneventful--save for their one melee flipping backward off the platform…again. Theron could hear Lana sigh at that from the other desk in their designated gaming room. It reminded him how great it was to have a roommate who also gamed and raided with him--no need to keep super quiet during intense fights.

“Good job, everyone,” she said, as she distributed loot as the raid leader. “We’ll start on the next boss next week, so be sure to do your homework.”

“Yes, mom,” their bard said, knowing full well the other woman hated it when anyone called her that. 

Theron snickered, which earned him a ball of paper being thrown at his head. Lana growled at them both before saying in comms. “Don’t worry about pots and food; Lyrei and Kairos have ‘volunteered’ to handle getting that for us.”

“Rude!” Lyrei growled; all of them could practically hear the bard pouting over the comms.

“Hey now,” Theron whined. “How did I get pulled into this?”

“Because I can hear you snickering even without the comms,” she said, looking over at him for good measure. Lana smirked and added on, not on comms, “Besides, you’ll be thanking me in a moment.”

Theron raised an eyebrow and was about to ask when a familiar chuckle rang out over the voice chat.

“Will you be farming the mats tonight, Kai?” Oram asked, causing the rest of the channel to go quiet--fucking snoopy gossips. At this point, most knew about Theron’s crush on the other man--how Oram didn’t know was beyond him.

Theron could already feel Lana’s smug gaze at the back of his head as his cheeks flushed. “Uh, yeah, probably. I don’t have work tomorrow, so I can finish most of it tonight.”

“Same here. Would you like company?” the healer asked. “I don’t mind helping out with getting the materials you need.”

“You’re welcome,” Lana said in her irritatingly smug tone of voice.  She then said over comms, “I’m going to head out for the evening. The rest of you have a good night.”

“Same,” the bard said, suddenly cheery again, followed by the rest of the group. With the rest of the group gone, it was just the two of them alone.

--------------------------

I really don't need more WIP things. ;-; Not sure if I'm going to go anywhere with this, but it was nice to write some of it out.

[purplesimme]

For the drabble prompts, nro 20? :)

20. "Soon, it will all be over."

Read it on AO3

It hasn't been Wille's week- homework, his mom, princely duties, all of them have been particularly bad the past couple of days. And right now the last thing he wants to do is deal with people, at all.

So he makes up an excuse and grabs his plate of food and heads back to his room to eat in his bed, with only silence and peace keeping him company.

He's not even halfway through his dish when he leans over to grab his phone and the plate promptly falls off his lap, shattering in a million pieces.

Wille being clumsy is a light way to put it.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he says, mostly to himself because there's no one else around, as he looks at all the glass and the now uneatable food spread all over the floor. "I am so hungry, I swear to God."

Wille just sits there, completely done with the day. So he thinks of the only thing that always helps him feel better: he texts Simon to come over. Unsurprisingly, Simon answers quickly, saying he'll be here in half an hour.

So Wille, with newfound motivation (aka seeing Simon), begins to clean up the mess before Simon gets here.

Simon is barely a step inside the room before Wille is grabbing him by the face and smooching him. "Hi."

Simon smiles big like the moon. "Hi. Shitty day?"

Wille rolls his eyes as he moves to sit on the bed. "More like shitty week."

Simon follows him and sits next to him. "Wanna talk about it?" He moves a strand of Wille's hair behind his ear.

"Nah, more of the same, just a bit more intense than usual. I just wanted to see you," Wille tells him, then rests his head on Simon's shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm good," Simon replies, kissing his hair before lying his head on top of Wille's.

After a couple minutes of silence Simon tears himself away to get rid of his shoes, and that's when Wille remembers.

"Wait!"

Simon stops halfway through untying his sneakers. "What is it?"

Wille gets up, inspecting the floor again. "I dropped a full plate of food and I tried my best but I'm not the best at cleaning. There might be glass lying around."

Simon giggles, not surprised, and looks at the floor too, eventually concluding, "It's fine. I don't see anything."

So Simon takes off his shoes, Wille looking at him, still worried, and stands up. And promptly steps on a piece of glass. "Fuck," he says as he sits back down and check the sole of his foot. "Shit."

"I told you!" Wille almost screams at him. He kneels down on the floor next to Simon to get a look at the injury. "Fuck, are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"Doesn't hurt, I don't think?" Simon says, trying to analyze the situation. "Can definitely feel it, though."

They both look at the glass impaled on Simon's foot. It's a pretty big piece, and Wille is appalled as to why neither of them saw it before, but it's not that deep, so it should be easy to grab and pull it out.

"Okay, " Wille takes the initiative, staring at the insulting piece of glass. "I'm taking it out, are you ready?"

Simon starts laughing. "Yes? It's fine, Wille..."

Wille ignores him, rolling his sleeves up, ready to fix this situation. He feels a little bit guilty. He reaches out with two fingers towards the glass. "Soon, it will all be over," Wille tells Simon.

"Uh, I mean, yeah, it's just glass. It's not that dramatic," Simon tells him, amused at the concentrated look on Wille's face.

Wille looks up at him, laughing. "I know. I heard it on a movie and I've been waiting for the right time to say it."

Simon laughs too. "Okay, can you pull it out? It's starting to feel weird."

So Wille grabs it and quickly pulls it out without much difficulty. Wille holds it up for both of them to see. "The evil has been defeated. Do you need a band-aid?"

"Nope." Simon grins. "You're my savior," he tells Wille, such love on his eyes Wille gets butterflies.

"I mean, I don't mind," Wille tells him. "But next time, maybe let's not get actually injured? I did really worry for a second there," he confesses.

Simon grabs him by the chin and leans foward to kiss him. "I agree. But nothing happened, we're fine." Simon kisses him again, reassuring him.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Wille asks him. "I would love a nap."

"Yes," Simon agrees. "This was all very stressful."

Wille scoffs. "Now you're just making fun of me."

Simon laughs, not helping his case. "I'm not! I think napping is a great idea."

"Fine," Wille says, getting up and pushing Simon on his back on the bed. "This is gonna be the best nap ever."

Simon giggles as Wille gets in bed next to him, and they cuddle close and tight until they fall asleep.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 3104

today was another early and long day.

joel had to go in to work but he forgot to tell me he could go in later so when i woke up and showered and got ready and said "alright let's go" he said "i don't have to be there for 8" and instead of letting him clarify i went to my car anyway.

but before i made it to work, i managed to stop at the gas station for red bull, bring joel to work, stop at a different gas station for gas, stop at starbucks for breakfast, and still be at and in work for 8:45 this morning. maria asked me if everything was okay because i'm never at work so early. i told her joel had to work early. she said "that's right, blame it on joel."

which isn't wrong but is also funny.

work was long today. i got the chance to make a few changes to my résumé and send it back to jb for ideas again, and i worked with a few students and the first one i worked with, after a few diagrams, was absolutely killing his stats homework. all else the same, one thing could be described differently and a world of difference can be made for anyone. he just nailed it.

there was also a student club fair today, which i went to because i was told there were stickers, so i went around, grabbed a lunchable that was part of the provided food, made my way around to different tables, got souvenirs aka stickers and an ace flag, made my way all the way around, spun the wheel, and got a fancy pen and another sticker. it was enjoyable. i'm glad i had pockets.

the rest of the day was spent waiting around and killing time by talking to my coworker and cutting out stickers, as well as playing a cup-and-ball game for a little bit. i'm supposed to run an ELL math study group on thursdays, but no one showed up and i didn't expect anyone to, so i just camped out with my stickers and i was give the game to play with. it was after that when i talked to one of my new coworkers for a while. turns out we have a lot in common, and he sat patiently and listened as i told him about our sunday campaign. why i did that i don't know. but i did and he was really nice about it. he also likes tuna, so i know he's at least got some sort of decent taste, but i also learned he eats cereal microwaved so it's mushy and warm and that's just not something i can support. he likes cocoa pebbles. which is fair, they're delicious. but you gotta eat them with ice cold milk. you can't put milk in them and microwave it.

i've been saying for a few days that cereal is instant soup, and the only thing keeping us from eating it hot is our moral compasses.

not this guy, though.

which is fucking hilarious to me as much as it is deeply unsettling.

after work, i got joel, and we came home and we cleaned the table up and i put my laundry in and we waited for people to show up and it was a long evening of noise from joel and company as well as tv noises and a little bit of creativity from me.

but it's bedtime now and joel is asleep, which is good. he's got tomorrow off, but i have a doctors appointment at 10, so even though it'll feel like -14°F at 10am, i still gotta go. around 2am tomorrow (saturday) it'll feel like -37°F, which is almost -40°C because -40° is the same in both fahrenheit and celsius. which, excuse the pun, is wicked cool.

anyway, joel is sleeping and i should too. i'm tired.

[wyomink]

My thoughts are snagged and frustrated, there are a lot of kinks i haven't worked out, but what I can say is that I think education is genuinely, 100% the most important thing we can do for people. And whatever the actual material reason may be for compulsory education laws, they do exist. This is why it's hard for me to get my understanding of my own job as a teacher to "it's just a job." I've got this new neighbor in my new place who is a lonely old man, you know the type, they grab your ear and they can't let go, even if they feel themselves doing it. Today he's talking to me for like an hour about Warhammer 40k out of nowhere, boring as hell, but I'm letting him, uh-huhing nodding. It's like when my dad wants me to watch specific David Letterman clips so he can talk about them with me. People want a friend, but they also want a friend with whatever same interest as them, so they proselytize a bit. This is something I struggle with, because I want some clear boundary notion of evil popular pastimes (TV shows, bad art, etc.) vs good popular pastimes (whatever I do/am into, obviously.)

(What you're afraid of is people not getting it, is feeling like you're letting your dad down because you don't want to watch late show interviews, is being pestered at recess by the kid on the spectrum who won't stop asking you rhetorical questions about the Notre Dame fire and Uvalde, is being unable to find a socially graceful exit from the conversation with your neighbor, is tuning out a loved one because you're lost in your own thoughts. But — take me as I am or let me go. What you're afraid of is perfect social cohesion being impossible, and it is impossible.)

You hate to have to drop a hint on purpose, and you feel bad anyway if you drop a hint on accident. What I'm afraid of is that I can't get along with people, that secretly I can't stand them and they can't stand me.

Anyway, my lonely old man neighbor has beef with the building manager, who I personally don't like because she never responded to my emails when I was moving in and couldn't figure out why I had no power. Now I'm sure it's like a sick Hegelian dialectic for the both of them, but my neighbor drops this truism, that you can't be in this line of work if you don't like people. Well, I feel weird saying that because now I've got this fear that I myself don't like people, but the true and sharp point of his fact remains that her job is managing apartments where people live. I move in on the weekend because the 1st falls on a Friday, and because that's when I have my days off because I'm a teacher, and there's no power, and the only person I can get ahold of to help me from the management company — because it's the weekend ��� is the one electrician working the weekend, putting out metaphorical fires across the city. I didn't get power till Monday, two days in the dark with cold water, but I didn't want to go back to my dad's house because I feel too guilty about not liking him that much. Specifically, filial piety leaves a bad taste in my mouth I think because the ruling dynamic in the relationship was fear and resentment, and now it's something like contempt and pity. I don't like my father, except in the moments that I do. I'll have to come to terms with that, but the fact remains that I want to keep him at a distance.

So I am a teacher, and trust me that I've got all this internal conflict and cognitive dissonance about when I try to do it My Way, when I give everyone 100% on homework sheets without checking who's done them or turned them in, apparently because I can't even be fucked to do even that, when I . . . show up and improvise lessons. I hate and revile the entire educational system, the grade-based assessment, multiple choice, teaching to the test, the fact my school is for-profit, that they shove 30 kids in a classroom, all that. Despite that, I want to do the best I can for the students, and I, from practical experience (having gone to school myself) knowing that "education is what remains after you've forgotten what you learned", can only really conclude that there must be something good I can do for the students in — forgive me for phrasing it like this — being good to be around and cultivating good vibes in my classroom, reprimanding them for actually cruel behavior (i.e. being mean, inconsiderate or cruel) and supporting them everywhere else as much as I possibly can. Trying to help them break out of any cruel boxes they might be painted into by friends or family, protecting them from stupid or potentially harmful school-oriented situations without consideration for what's specifically good or bad for me.

The main thing this sort of thing requires is me saying: "I have sound enough judgment that my judgment more often than not correctly identifies where the System is good or bad for the students." I only have good intentions, but then it's probably true that the ideas that people come up with are just how they make sense of the material situation that they're in. Like — I don't think this is the case, but it Could be the case that I'm crazy and a screw-up, and I explain my ill fit in this world — otherwise mostly good — by envisioning myself on a doomed, noble crusade.

The original point of this post was to express that I want to be at work every day because I think that's important to being a good teacher in any sense, and I think it's really stupid that doctors don't do appointments on the weekend. Why can't we coordinate so that half of the doctors do Sun-Thurs, and half do Tues-Sat? I shouldn't have to wait till the summer or take time off because I'm trying to become healthier. "One afternoon off isn't a big deal!" What about the rest?

I have this idea of myself in my mind now as unhealthy, and I can't tell whether I am or not. I know having to drive all over the place makes me feel like shit musculoskeletally, but everyone acts like it's normal to drive everywhere, and the whole fucking city is set up so that you can't walk anywhere, and I feel like shit when I do walk, and my best guess is my stupid fucking feet are too weak and malformed to just wear normal shoes from the store, but even once I jump through a bunch of hoops and pay a bunch of money to fix that I'll still have to drive everywhere, because everything is really far apart, and the only place that's really walkable is the 24 hour corner store, and only unhealthy things are purchased there. This is really why I don't like my dad: he thinks everything is fine.

I want to be the best teacher ever. This is both a selfish and an unselfish aspiration; selfish because I want this because I wish my experience in school had been better, but unselfish because I know that the only sensible goal to draw from this is to try and make it better for others. I think I am capable of identifying with anyone. Something I'm scared of is that I am uniquely deficient — I'm just physically malformed, or I'm just lazy — and that's why I often feel like shit, and that's why I can't keep my life in order. I'm hoping the IRS takes my electronically filed taxes, because for verification I needed to provide my gross adjusted income from last year, and I don't know where my tax return from last year is, so I just sort of guessed based on an old W2 I did have. Actually, I haven't even looked for last year's tax return. My dad would just say — and he did warn me — keep track of your tax return, don't lose it. Now that I've thought about it for 20 seconds I probably know where it is, I could probably spend 5 minutes digging it up. But I'm always scrambling, and when I'm focused on one thing i'm scared to break my focus, because focus is a precious thing.

You buy something and it turns out to be garbage. In Protagoras, Socrates is warning you off about snake oil, even back then; that's the comparison he makes to Protagoras, he's saying, how do you know Protagoras isn't going to sell you spiritual snake oil?

I would never want to sell anybody snake oil; this is why I can't teach to the test, because that feels like snake oil. This is why testing anything besides fucking math is stupid, because jesus, how can you justify that? It's either trivia, or it's something that feels insane to tell kids is definitely wrong or definitely right. It gives them the wrong idea.

Course, my end goals are crazy, coz don't people really do like watching late night shows, or playing Warhammer? Maybe I only resent people for enjoying themselves because I'm sick. But you buy something and it turns out to be garbage, including medicine, spiritual practices, this and that. I can't trust that I go to a podiatrist from the phone book and they actually care about fixing my feet. I can't trust that anyone can fix my feet, coz no psychiatrist has ever fixed my soul, nor doctor my gut. I feel lonely, and someone tries to love me, and I send them away coz I can't love them back. What am I trying to do with education? I'm trying to create a world in which, had I been born at the right time, I could have been happy.

Well, I won't give into despair. There will be further moments of happiness in my life — perhaps more or perhaps less, but it doesn't matter either way. What matters is the conviction that I am capable of making the world a better place, or that it's at least worth trying to.

I love you with all my heart.

[that-kid89]

03.26.2024

numb the pain. <- song of my day

but like a happy day for me? tbh definitely ended on more of high note, a spark of hope after being unemployed for a week now.

i feel like i could write 15 sentences at the same time right now.

madness, insanity, sickness, disturbed, panic.

ecstasy, highs, journeys, toys, wanderlust.

modest, numb, emotional, passive.

literally just writing random words that pop in my head. feels like gonzo clarity. check me if it's narcissism. too much pride.

daily average for screen time on my iphone is 3.5 hours for the 3 days this week.

read and skimmed all the back to my opener post. i initially felt bad, sad, and let down. reading my thoughts of love for heather, but more so my feelings towards my self. talking to myself in this blog, scolding him nearly. listing my needs and realizing where i sit that i made not one attempt at getting those things. were they really needs or just fantasies though.

kinda feelin like fuck all that shit. maybe its the beers and esteem boost from my first hearing back on one the applications i sent out in the last 7 days.

whats always wild to me, is how i can drift off into my dreams, when i'm awake. the rare night where i just daydream and not even sleep. its so crazy to me, and i dont recall talking about that seriously with someone. wish i did with heather. but also the stimulation i get from twist my hair into knots. sometimes it hurts so good. but i get mad when it's really knotted, and i gotta rip it apart, usually with hair being ripped out. insane.

talking about today now. woke up late, but earlier than i thought after falling asleep around 3am. tried not to drink but caved last night and had a few swigs of casamigos followed by a lovely beer. technically counts as today! well i suppose only the events beginning at 12:00am. fuck it, yeah so i woke up, and funny i keep checking my phone for all kinds of notifications. first thing i read was a message from christian on insta about the boat hitting the bridge in baltimore. this is recent to the mass shooting in russia, god damn dark news. still seeing a bunch of posts about necann. i'm glad i've been to events, but felt i had no place going this year. i don't think i've been when working in the industry, but definitely when i was younger. took a much needed shower today and trimmed up. then went to whole foods and petco. nearly bought the exact same things from each store, from i got yesterday. took the amg out though, and always get excited to drive that beast. let it warm up right, cold start was rowdy as always. deffs got some good pops and bangs. fuckin car is so quick too, and so exhilarating. however i did get this great beer as well called "termination". spent a lot of time looking at crafties to get, and ultimately chose this one although it being a triple ipa. 10% abv and damnnnn smooth. i'm on my second one tonight. sipping out the duvel big round chalice that i got from an xmas yankee swap one year. but anyway, getting a hit back on an application from only yesterday was an esteem boost. seems like a company tha could really use my help, and that they'll have a lot of work cut out for me. falling in love a bit quick as i do my homework on them. keeping in my mind that its only a teams meeting planned for next week but was still the first i've heard in a week. this last week has felt like freedom. but also emptiness. i do miss my last job, and still trying to get a good understanding of how it ended. but it feels a lot like the lat time heather and i broke up. i had reached my breaking points with them months ago, and never recovered. but they cite a recent mishandling of a heroin related customer incident at the store, which i can see how they perceive as mishandling, but damn it really felt good to get fired. i just walked out they of my term. instant relief, not much to finalize with them either. anyway

running out of steam with my writing. im glad i did. btw, song of the day came from nowhere. i somehow had the song stuck in the head, and i searched a rough idea of the lyrics with xxxtentacion and nailed it. i've had it on repeat all day since. had it on loop in the car, and had it on loop during this whole session. a classic way i've listened to my favorite x songs, a repetitive lyric design with just guitar chords or sample. feel like he's here with me, just sharing his emotions with me.

came to love his music after a distinct memory of mine, being when i shurgged off his death as i read him to be an abuser in his relationship. came to realize he had remorse in his actions, and was on a mission that i never would found out myself. this girl told me he was one of her favs, and that's when i got into him. his music still took time to grow on me, but ive now listened to most of his music, and i think all of his albums, all the way through, multiple times. 17, ?, skins, bad vibes forever, and some of his early stuff from mixtapes and singles. but yeah, quite a learning and growing experience. ending sentences on the 4 beat, or like a significant strum or beat, just feels so good.

rest in peace jahseh.

thank you for helping me open up my mind in so many ways.

here's to me, and the life i've lived and will continue to complete. excited to see where life takes me. for now, a nostalgic night of no responsibilities, weed and beer.

signing off.

[openly-journaling]

Smidge: 2/19/2024

So we got a counseling appointment Wednesday morning. I'd like to stop dissociating so much, it's not like our body says we're going to switch out any time soon by the feel of it. Still front stuck with Marshmallow. though I did feel Dizzy's presence a bit earlier and Andrew's. They were more co-conscious. The headache has disappeared at least, so there's that. Homework is due tomorrow and I.. still haven't started.

I'm in a FAR better mood than yesterday and the day before, so I SHOULD be able to get it done. I hope. Why am I so paralyzed by all of this. Marshmallow would step in but he can't seem to take over any control over the body right now. It's like he's just here to keep me company. I want to talk to my brother again and know how he's doing.

I want to see Sorrow and I hope he's doing well without me also. But I just feel so stuck here. It's so funny Marshmallow is a gatekeeper but sometimes it just doesn't fucking work for him either. His ability to control who fronts is limited to when and only when we aren't locked like this.

I don't feel miserable but I feel miserable. Not like "it's the end of the world, kill me, I need to quit school" miserable. But just.. "I wish I could just do it" miserable. I'm so tired. Mentally over this issue. Like everywhere else right now I'm fine for the most part. Minor anxieties. I think knowing we still have at least a 90% in both classes helps. So if we fall back a little bit it won't damage things too much. But that doesn't mean that just because we can, we should.

I don't remember if I talked about this in the last post. I don't recall doing it, but being late, behind all of that has brought back memories of high school. Knowing we'd never be good enough for anyone back then. That's why we dropped math class. It wasn't like the math was hard, we were just so behind at that point in just trying to reach the homework that it stressed us out too much.

Maybe as a solution we could have just gone to the school to log in and reach our stuff and then print it off in the library. We just didn't. We were still so far behind. I'm just so glad our math teacher was beyond understanding and even gave us another option. Though I don't think she fully realized the option she gave us (part of it being online and part of it being in person) is where the struggle is well.. the struggle. We dropped the class mostly because we couldn't keep up because we couldn't even access the homework. Ugh.

But that's okay. There's always another opportunity to do it but I think we should just do math by itself when the opportunity presents itself. After we finish all the other basics, like Biology, Psychology and Interpersonal Communications. I'm sure there may be a few other fields as well but I think those are the main four we need to do for general studies first?

Anyway. Since dropping math class the memories of high school haven't been as prominent. But now we're having this sudden executive dysfunction issue and now.. but I don't fully recall if the lack of doing our homework then was a result of that or a result of the stress of foster care. It could be both or either one. We just can't let this happen again. We cannot. Not for this. Back when we were a child/teenager what matter did it make to us.

There was no dopamine in any of it. ADHD doesn't care about grades and papers and homework. ADHD cares about fun. But now I can't even have fun, just stressed by this idea we'll fall behind again. Why am I front stuck? Why? Can the body just let me switch now? Why do I have to deal with all this life stuff, I'm just a silly woodland boy. I prefer relaxation and comfort with people I care about, not all this stressful stuff.

Marshmallow consistently whispering in my ear that it's okay, it'll be alright. No it won't. It never has been and it never will be. Saying everything will turn out right has actually made things worse before.