sɓnɹᗡ d∩ ɓuıʍoɹ⅁

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Always pull up when I call you, call you
Yeah, you never keep me waitin', waitin'
Got me trippin', I adore you
I adore you, boy (Boy)
Oh baby
You, oh you're really different, baby (Different, baby)
You, you might be the main thing, baby (Main thing, baby)
It's time to go, take it nice and slow
Tiptoe to the bedroom, lookin' at me like when it's cold
You gon' keep me warm
All I wanna do is spend my time with you
Even when the learning's done and nothing's new
➪♧︎
Ariana Grande ~ main thing

꧁ꨄ❦~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❦ꨄ꧂

    I stand motionless in the shower, the scalding hot water pouring down my back as I stare blankly at the white tiled wall before me. The burning sensation is nice, I guess it reminds me that I actually still know how to feel something. My eyes go out of focus and I watch the water droplets running down my bruised arms before falling to my feet. My gaze shifts downwards at my body and I grimace at the way my stomach sticks out ever so slightly, showing off a few scars and more bruises that are still slightly dark. Disgusting...

    "Izuku! Get your ass out here!" That's Dominak.

    I sigh in annoyance and shut the water off, stepping out of the small shower stall and grabbing for a dingy white towel to dry myself off. Using the slightly damp towel to wipe the steam from the little mirror, I stare at myself critically; all my horrible features and flaws only highlighted by the awful lighting. My eyes have shadows beneath them from lack of sleep, my lips are pulled into a permanent frown, and my cheeks look almost hollow. In all honesty, I look like the very definition of death.

    "Izuku!" Dominak yells again.

    "Give me five damn minutes!" I growl back.

    Pulling on my jeans I look down at my thighs and frown at how grotesque they look. There really isn't anything I like about myself, and I can't be wrong, seeing as everyone else in my life agrees that I'm a disgusting waste of space. Why am I still here again? What is even fucking left for me here? Nothing...thats what.

    Finally dressed, I plug in my crappy straightener and pull out the blow dryer to dry my hair while it heats up.

    Walking into the kitchen, I smell something revolting. It doesn't take long to notice that the kitchen is in a horrific state. The garbage is overflowing, and the dishes are piled up and have flies buzzing around the old food caked on them. The counters look like they have a layer of some gross, sticky substance covering them. Just fucking lovely.

    "About fucking time," Dominak grumbles from the ktichen table.

    I watch in disdain as he snorts a line before getting up and running into the bathroom. Mom sits in another chair, looking off at nowhere in particular, eyes glassy and sweat breaking out on her forehead. I almost feel something knot in my chest, but feel it disappear almost instantly. I truly hate seeing her like this, but it's not an uncommon sight.

    It wasn't always this way. My mom used to be really quite wonderful. She'd clean and cook and watch movies with me. Ever since she met Dominak thought? She's been through this trainwreck and I'm always left to be an adult. It's been this way since I was about five or six years old.

    Wow. Ten years went by really slow.

    I walk over to my mom and rest a hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't even seem to notice. "Mom? Hey, why don't you go lay down? You don't look so good."

ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ (ᴛᴏᴅᴏᴅᴇᴋᴜ)Where stories live. Discover now