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Whitaker laughed too, mostly because it felt like he might cry if he didn’t. “Sir, I’m really, really lost… You said you’re Michael Robinavitch.”
“The only one that I know of,” Robby answered.
Whitaker opened his mouth then, and he had expected to say something profound or impactful or revealing. Instead, the words that hissed through the breath caught in his lungs didn’t feel like his own.
“Where are you?”
“Uh, UPenn. Fisher Hassenfeld College House, Room 314.”
Whitaker nodded like that made any fucking sense at all. “What time is it?”
“It’s 3:06 on July 14th–.”
Same day. Same time.
“-- 1995, baby.”
“... 1995?”
***
Whitaker agrees to house-sit for Robby while he's away. He gets a little more than he wanted from the deal when he finds the phone next to the man's bed, unplugged and ancient, tends to ring late at night. While his connection with his boss is fizzling in Dr. Robby's absence, Whitaker leans on the voice on the phone to fill the void he's left behind.
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we can burn out in the freezing cold (and just get lost) by brigreenie
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
03 Oct 2023
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Johnny pulls away slowly, the hands placed on Ghost’s chest sliding down and off him. Ghost chokes on a breath he can barely get into his lungs.
Johnny looks concerned, head tilting to the side a little, “... Are ya okay? If ya dinnae want to…”
“No,” Ghost wheezes, grabbing his other hand to rub his thumb into his palm. “I want to.”
He’s fumbling with his words, trying to explain what’s happening in a way that doesn’t sound absolutely pathetic, “It’s just been a long time.”
“How long?” Johnny asks gently, joking to lighten the mood once again, “Because ya act like ya never been kissed before.”
Ghost is quiet.
Very quiet.
Johnny sucks in a breath, eyes widening just a little as the situation seems to dawn on him, “... Oh.”
***
Johnny finds out Ghost has never been kissed after a night at the bar. Good thing he's an excellent teacher.
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i slithered here from eden (just to sit outside your door) by brigreenie
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
10 Sep 2023
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Ghost takes a step forward, the shadows of the room casted over his face. He looks like he wants to say something, but the words get caught in his throat.
For the first time since they met, Ghost lets fear crawl onto his face.
“What the fuck?” Johnny repeats, holding the photo up. Anger starts to boil in his gut, lashing out of his throat and settling behind his teeth, “What the fuck?!”
He doesn’t really know what else would get the message across.
Ghost stares at him for a long, long moment. His words come out breathy and soft, a sharp contrast from the man Soap thought he knew.
“You looked just like him.”
***
Looking back now, Johnny should’ve known. A man like Ghost would’ve never fallen that easily without a reason. He just didn't think that reason would be that he and Ghost's dead lover are fucking identical.
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Drown In My Ocean of Black Box Dye by brigreenie
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
14 Apr 2021
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He clicked the pen his therapist had given him, opening the first page. In big letters, he wrote, “Reasons To Live: 1-100.”
Then, he flipped to the middle of the journal. He paused, felt-tip inches from the page. This was gonna be another mistake to add to his long-running list, wasn’t it?
Caving, he put the pen to the page.
“Reasons to Die: 1-100.”
The idea was simple; old as time.
First to one hundred wins.
***
After being kicked from the friend group his second year, radio silence from Bakugou over the summer, and a suicide attempt, Kirishima starts to spiral when he returns to UA.
Bakugou walks back into his life wanting to know why his hair is black all of the sudden.
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the flowers that grow in our lungs (and on our skin) by brigreenie
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
18 Feb 2021
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“Hello, how can I help you?” Kirishima said, moving behind the counter. Only then did he look up at the customer that had just walked in.
Fuck.
He wore a heavy frown on his face, blonde hair pulled back with a black bandana. His tank top left very little to the imagination; his athletic build obvious.
Kirishima’s eyes moved down to his neck, which hosted a scorpion tattoo about the size of Kirishima’s hand. His arms were covered with patchwork tattoos, every inch of skin devoted to some piece of art. They seemed to tell a full story while also being completely disconnected from each other.
The lower half of him was covered with a tattered pair of grey sweatpants and Kirishima immediately snapped his eyes back upward.
The customer scowled, “I need a bouquet.”
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Tattoo Shop/Flower Shop AU where Kirishima is just trying to make ends meet to take care of his sick mom when a firey blonde that runs the tattoo shop across the street walks into his life.

