Y’ALL!
i was just doing one of the skz texts (one that i haven’t put on the poll because i think imma drop that whilst you wait for the others etc etc etc shush keep a secret)
and i did an ariana reference, TELL ME WHY MY PLAYLIST THAT IS ON SHUFFLE IMMEDIATELY PLAYS THAT SONG AS SOON AS I FINISH THAT TEXT?!?!!!
like WOAH.
ahem anyways.
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MCFLY JULY ‘24 — playing hooky.
MARCH 8, 1983
“Hi Doc, sorry I’m late.”
The fourteen-year-old greets @doctorbrown as usual, sliding the key under the mat and leaving his skateboard by the door. Einstein immediately bounds over, tail wagging, and Marty scratches him behind the ears.
“What’s on the list for today?” the boy continues, completely oblivious to or deliberately ignoring the fact that it’s Tuesday at 12:03 PM and he should most definitely be in Mr. Johnston’s fourth period geometry class right now. “More welding, maybe some circuitry? Dreamin’ up some new schematics?”
As if sensing his best friend’s discontentment and knowing he’s been found out, he groans, flopping onto Einstein to give the canine an impromptu hug. The sheepdog, pleased at the attention, thumps his tail more vigorously and licks the teenager’s face.
“C’mon, Doc,” Marty wheedles. “Linda’s skipping today too! It’s not like I got any tests or anything. Anyway, I learn more from you. You know that.”
What he’s pretty sure the scientist also knows is that, other than Doc himself, nobody actually gives a shit if he’s at school or not. Not his parents, especially not after last night. They probably don’t even realize, and sure as hell don’t care, that he’s gone.
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Staring down that weird feeling of feeling like too much or out of place or annoying if I say too much or say things too loud or too off-putting to be like- WANTED in any given social situation. To try so hard to socialize just to- idk. I’d very much like to stop defaulting to that scared kid that was pushed away or talked over until I got old enough and desperate enough to say any and every rapid fire thought that comes to mind. Like filling space when there’s dead air then wondering if maybe I did the Too Much™️ thing again and A. Scared everyone away or B. Pushed everyone away so it would hurt less when they leave BC of A.
Of feeling like I need to be useful or smart or talented or pretty or SOMETHING worthwhile so people want me around. I can just be but then it’s like just being has never been enough for anyone to like- stay. Or care. Running is always a mistake bc it’s like riiiight.. no one noticed you ran, babe. You’re not even at the top of their list people to want around. And just feel so low about it that I talk myself into feeling miserable again.
I’m happy, ive been so much happier lately and i dont take it for granted bc it’s so rare that things go okay or that there’s a sense of peace for a moment. I’m creating again and im less hard on myself about it. I have hobbies again, I’m making friends. And still I’m like seeing the other foot start to drop in real time bc it’s like. You’re in, but are you? That constant nagging voice that sounds so much like my own going “lonely again? Good you deserve it”
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Another peek at Thief chapter 32 🔥
Summary: As a psychologist at a psychiatric ward for villains, you’re used to encountering cruelty and treating trauma. But your days of freedom are unknowingly numbered when a new patient arrives. It’s then that you learn his compliance to your wishes comes at a hefty price — one you can’t possibly agree to. Dark AU.
Pairing: Yandere!Dabi x Paychologist!Reader
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“One hour and forty minutes until he awakens.” Mr. Compress announces, speaking of the devil. “We, ourselves, should also prepare to fight, if we plan to unleash him on this suburban utopia.”
“Fight?” Dabi clicks his tongue. “Why the hell did I have to get dragged into this?”
“Hey!” Twice pipes off. “Imagine if it was doc— er, Miss (f/n) — who got kidnapped! Wouldn’t you want us t’ help ya?!”
The flame villain wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you firmly against him. Blood rushes to your cheeks and you feel the pressure of something fluttering in your chest. To be flustered is to submit for real. You can’t believe you have to remind yourself that this man — no, this monster — could never hope to boast the title of your protector, let alone your lover.
“You think I’d let anyone lay a fucking hand on my woman?” He asks incredulously, a single eyebrow raised to depict his skepticism. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Shigaraki deadpans Dabi. There’s a peculiar expression on his face. It’s somewhere between mischievous and austere. He interjects into Twice’s emotional rebuttal.
“I laid a hand on her.” His velvet red gaze darts to you. “Didn’t I?”
You purse your lips. Why is he dragging you into this, simply to flex? Dabi hasn’t given you permission to speak,but if you could, you’d tell him it was against your will. In no universe would you let a man who’s killed countless lay a finger on you.
As if on cue, your assailant nudges you. You glance up. His icy irises spear you like wild game, pinning you in place. He isn’t amused.
“Answer him.”
You didn’t expect that.
You don’t break eye contact with Dabi when you respond to Shigaraki. You’re too afraid to undermine him. He won’t reprimand you this second, but if you survive, he’ll make you wish you died for your sins on this battleground.
“Yes.”
His grip on your waist tightens. It’s an indication that he’s angry. He can barely stop his nails from digging into your flesh. He knows he has to focus on the mission, but he has to address this first. You take priority.
“You were too much of a pussy to fuck her.” He regards Shigaraki smugly. “Guess you didn’t wanna embarrass yourself by busting a nut in less than a minute.”
You cover your mouth with a quivering hand.
Toga squeals.
Spinner chokes.
Mr. Compress ejects a long, exasperated sigh.
It’s a rancid insult. Not only does it emasculate his boss, it dehumanizes you.
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