#and to be honest the kind of middle class that tries to be that rich by avoiding taxes etc. eat them too

[eliounora]

So then what would you consider to be true middle class? And what are some tell tale signs someone is middle class? besides nice teeth and Patagonia jackets and an apple watch they only wear when they work out

hi! I think it depends on area/country, for example here in my native finland middle class can look quite different from the american middle class. like if you think of wealthier people here "nice teeth" doesn't really come to mind, because on the regular most people have to various degrees imperfect public healthcare teeth hahaha!

nevertheless from what I've read the middle class still hard or even impossible to define truly, and there's also many methods to define class. that is sort of what I wanted to say with my post -- you can't really take two random things, two cars, and deduce class from that alone. but for example it could be considered that I am embodying my class when I start to speak about the sociologist pierre bourdieu and his ideas of cultural capital: I am showing (in my habitus) that I have high education, which is my personal cultural capital, and in having that personal capital I have power over those who have no idea who bourdieu is. however, I've obviously needed a family background and financial means to acquire my education, so I've also had economic capital.

in my understanding, to go to college in the US your parents often need to have the means to save money for your tuition (lest you drown in debt), so naturally the children of those who can't save up don't go to college as often. in a nordic welfare state setting where tuition itself is free, more people can go to college, but socio-enomic standing is still inherited. my parents do not have higher education and for sure do not know who pierre bourdieu is, but they do have money, so I would say with economic capital alone you do reach power in other forms of capital as well.

I think you are in the right by mentioning a patagonia jacket and an apple watch. those are luxury items. whether the patagonia jacket is new or thrifted, the wearer has most likely needed the knowledge of patagonia as a nice outdoor wear brand, and what it symbolises. in those terms, I consider myself middle class (not in my personal assets necessarily, but again, in connection to my parents) partly because I have a fjällräven jacket, and although thrifted (still a price that someone poor could not pay without saving for it) it still carries a cultural meaning, and that's why I wanted to get it. it's hip right now!

to summarise and actually answer your question, what then is the difference between the upper middle class and the true middle class -- I think that can be impossible to say. does true middle class only have one car and upper middle class has two? someone might have a whole junkyard of cars, but that is not really a middle class thing to have -- but then, someone could drive a single porsche, and you know they have money.

[steverogersistheguy]

dark!Thor x innocent!fem! reader~The song of the waves Ch.1

A/N: This fic is DARK, so proceed with caution. DMs, and comments are welcomed about this fic, but be kind! Also, thank you for stopping by and reading my shit. REMEMBER: These characters are made-up, they are NOT based on real life people.

Warnings: some heavy language, swearing, hints of misogynism BUT things will get darker every chapter.

Chapter summary: Your friends decide to break the usual routine and have a runaway on an island. Little do you know what time has in store for you there.

ENJOY!!!

Your friends were nothing like you, but you loved them, if you were honest.

Everyone called them, and implicitly, you, degradating nicknames in school, like sluts, whores, gold-diggers and the list could go on. Amy, Tamara, Leslie and Tyler were your best friends since high school started. The girls were your room-mates, and they liked your "innocent" and sweet nature, so they immediately took you in their group.

Amy was the girl that couldn't think of a day without her make-up kit. She always had to have lipstick, eye-liner and foundation on. Amy told you make-up is indispensable for her, just like the headphones or books were for you. Amy tried to get you to wear all those layers of make-up, but you only liked to wear some mascara and chapstick. Amy was the one that never failed to cheer you up. She was so sweet, you couldn't understand why everyone called her a "moody bitch"

Leslie was the girl that dated three guys in a week. Her mother always left her alone in that big house of them, because she had to meet some old rich guys...Leslie was raised like that, so she did the exact thing: dated every single guy. For Leslie, it didn't matter it was her middle-aged Geography teacher, the principal's son, or the hot guy that worked at Starbucks. She only screwed them, and then ghosted them...Everyone called her a slut, but you knew she suffered a lot because of her mother and you felt sorry for her. Poor rich girl.

Tamara was that one girl. She had thick black hair, she had the perfect body and her father was also filthy rich...He owned the greatest company in your state and he was extremely unbothered by Tamara's problems. Tam was always in depression or always crying until she got sick of it. She started drinking, partying, but deep inside, she was also broken. Then, she met Tyler.

Tyler was Tam's boyfriend and he adored to be in your company. He was kind, he always protected you from the mean words. His mother died when he was fifteen, and his father just...disappeared after, so all the money and the houses were his now.

These amazing friends of yours decided to go on a vacation, just...running away from freaking school, from the gossips. They wanted it and they actually could do this, and they wanted to take you with them, of course. Yo knew they wouldn't accept a refuse, so you started packing.

The details Tam gave you about the island where you were going weren't actually detailed...She just threw at you some phrases like: "...pack many swim suits." (yeah, like you really had that many) "...a peaceful island..." "...I've spoken to your aunt already..." (The aunt that didn't give a shit about you or your life) and some other stupid words thrown in the air.

When you arrived home from classes, you packed your pastel-colored dresses, an ash-colored swimsuit and some sneakers: your favorite Converse pair made of peachy material and the plain black ones. You also put in your travel bag the perfume Tyler gave you for your birthday, your mascara tube and your favorite chapstick flavor: strawberry pop-tarts. You also put three books (your favorites actually, even though you knew the girls won't let you read) and...that was all. You climbed in your small bed and covered yourself with your fluffy blanket. Tomorrow, you were leaving for the very first time in such an important trip. But, instead of excitement, your tummy filled with a weird, actually frightening feeling.

Meanwhile, on the Tavarua Island:

Thor was all wet, his shiny swimsuit thrown on the sand. He was only in his shorts, his godly designed, tanned figure looking deliciously good in the sun. He caught some good waves and now, he was cleaning his board on the beach.

Thor quit trying to be a hero...his loved-ones died, and now he felt...surprisingly free. He retired on this island, building himself a brand new life. He was daily surfing, he loved the ocean. His mind wandered to Jane, to her last days...He also thought about the Avengers, his once-friends.

Suddenly, Thor was pushed out from his thoughtful world by some annoying laughs. When he turned his head, he saw a bunch of girls having some drinks at the local bar. He clenched his jaw, sick of all these "whores". They were all throwing themselves at any men, all-plastic, make-up too intense. They even failed at making him hard, at least.

Thor picked up his board furiously and headed back to his house. He was sick of these plastic dolls, and he swore to himself again that he will never get one like those.

Oh, if he'll only find a sweet, natural woman, he would take her all to himself, to protect her like she would have been a very rare flower.

And he will, soon...

Chapter 2 ->

[moirastuff]

Yo! Could i request Sidon and/or (you choose!) Link with a gen z human reader who ended up in their world for some reason? The reader is literally the embodiment of chaos and does stupid shit 24/7, quotes memes and vines and stuff.

I just wanna see them confused why this generation wants to ⚰️🤪 so bad GAJAGAKAGAJAH.

Yoo I'm alive :D I really don't have an excuse, only writer's block ig

Also, I learned how to put the read more thingy, why nobody told me about that?????

Oh yeah the hcs,

Both is good

Sidon and Link dealing with a Gen Z

Sidon

He just kinda saw you walking around the Zora region and took you in, kinda surprised on how you even survived

This actual himbo of a Zora doesn't understand a single thing you're saying

He's such a gentleman, but your way of talking just immediately confuses him

But sometimes you just,“Where... Am I again?”

“the Zora region” and you looked even more confused, something that took Sidon off guard, like, alright it's fine that the Zora region right now sucks but it's not unknown, the hole city shines in the night

How can you even ignore the BIG ANTHROPOMORPHIC SHARK JUST WALKING AROUND LIKE IT'S A NORMAL DAY??????

He was so confused on how you looked so puzzled over this

You just had to tell him, because if you didn't, he'll just think you're crazy

Of course, you told him that you're just from another dimension, the guy already has some kind of depression, we don't need him to have an existential crisis, at least one that'll just shut him down

He takes his sweet time to process and will help you to go back home

Of course, this won't be easy, you have to stay in the domain

And everyone thinks that you're a Hylian, and you know what? I think that's better for now

If you even try to talk to the elderly Zora, you will get insulted

Of course, you ain't scared of some crusty ass fish

You'll have a full discussion with anyone that'll try to insult you and won't hesitate to throw hands

Oh but "go and buy fish from the store to eat.... Yeah not happening, instant freeze, no way you're doing it

Look at the good side, you're good friends with some of the younger Zora

You actually manage to become friends with Sidon, he likes your energy... Still confused about what are you talking about, but he tries

Of course, he's the prince, he grow up in a environment that requires him to be really polite, he learned manners, everything he has to know about any other Kingdom and everything about rich people blah blah

But you are a barely middle class and to be honest, for the Zora, you might as well be poor asf gremlin child that has let loose with no supervision

Of course, he's more than nervous every single time you talk with King Dorephan, he's sweating i don't think the Zora can sweat, but you get it

You might fuck up, but you know, he might brush it off as “just young people stuff”

I swear, you get injured so easily that he wishes that he had healing powers just like his big sister

Even for dumb stuff and without you realizing it!

You will be fucking bleeding and Sidon will be like “WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!?!!!”

“nothin' don't worry about it, i had worst”

“WHAT”

You seem to be attracted to absurd stuff... Or that's how he calls it

It's been time he has tried to show you some Zora stuff, your either mumble “fucking rich people....” or say “sheeesh this is worth a department on New York or almost a house”

“Your houses are quite big isn't? You could buy some with this I believe”

“Some of them are, but other that are smaller? They're just fucking expensive”

“..... How do you even live?”

“I have no fucking clue”

The rain still continues, Link is taking his sweet fucking time...

"OKAY I SWEAR TO GOD IF THIS RAIN DOESN'T STOP I WILL GO TO VAH RUTA AND STOP IT MYSELF”

“Please don't, you don't even know how to hold a bow properly”

“WATCH ME”

“What are you doing?”

You go outside and look straight to the sky

“STRIKE ME DOWN ZEUS YOU DON'T HAVE THE BALLS!” and almost immediately a lighting strikes somewhere close to you

So close in fact your soul almost leaves your body, Sidon sees all of this and thinks you're in fact, cursed

“..... See? You don't have the-”

“Alright it's enough, whatever you made angry you have to stop”

This himbo is now you're babysitter, no, you cannot change my mind

Also, you, of course, don't like Muzu and he doesn't like you

And every time, every time, you'll get in a heated argument on each other's perspectives, he'll call you brat with no manner's and you'll say to him any kind of insult you can think on the moment

“You're a merely a bratty child that their parents have no care to teach you even the simplest of things, or perhaps you were just unable to understand them”

“You- FUCKING GROSS AND DISGUSTING FISH I HAVE EATEN SUSHI AND I AIN'T SCARED OF DOING IT AGAIN”

Even if they turned out so random that everyone doesn't even know if you two are fighting, only can guess because of the screaming

Sidon had to break out the argument and take you somewhere else, not before he reprimanded Muzu for his attitude with a guest

No, you're not getting away, he also semi lectures you, he can't help but to laugh every time he has to repeat your insults

The moment Link arrives to the Zora domain, Sidon is ecstatic, Link is very confused on what the fuck is happening, but you know, happy to help. Sidon tries to explain to the best of his capacity to Link your situation, after what felt hours of Sidon trying to say the right word, Link seemed so unamused and that just confused Sidon even more.... You know what? You're now under Link's care..... “What”

Link

After that, you try your best to get to know Link, what he likes and dislikes, what is he interested in, etc

Making friends is not your forte but you quite get along with Link

Normally, Link before the calamity is a quiet, put-together young guy, preferring to not show any emotions whatsoever

But after the calamity and the whole memory loss??

He's a chaotic mother fucker

Well, mostly he is quite put together when he talks to people, but when adventuring

You can see him killing time like killing a lot of octorok, getting the balloons and just sending something flying

Or infiltrate bokoblin's camps using nothing but a mask

Or just cooking amounts of food that you could serve in pre-calamity castle town and everyone could have a plate and they'll be some food left

Basically, he gets weird everytime he's bored

After you leave the Zora region, he asked you if you could fight

“I only know how to grab properly a sword"

“great, let's start from there”

He tries to train you

Good news, you can hold your own against some bokoblins

Bad news, you still suck, because your limit is like three normal bokoblins and Link helped with one

You most definitely weren't born to be doing this much exercise, and you absolutely haven't done this much in your whole life

It's that or you know everything about how to use a sword, a bow, everything because... You can get so invested with stuff

Good for you, but I'm projecting so f*ck you/j (not the projecting part tho, I swear I can be athletic... I just need a little bit)

Actually, there was once this time that you Link was trying to figure out where to go, you saw some bokoblins and decided that, somehow, it was a good idea to go and attack them

“Why did you do that?! You could have died!”

“That's the point!”

....

“/j?”

“WHAT EVEN IS /J?!?!!”

After that uncomfortable situation, you proceeded to explain what it meant and all of the tags

He was, to say the least, very confused and it took him a whole day to understand

There was this one time when you went to Kakariko, Link was trying to talk some matters with Impa

But your little gremlin brain decided that it was a great idea to grab a cucco and just do a parade with them

The cucco was not happy, at all

And when Link found out he was.... How do I explain this?

Confused, amused and a lot of stuff more but he was not surprised

He really doesn't know what to do with you, but he does find it kinda fun

[andrewlovely]

Sam Bankman-Fried

[I don’t know if my thoughts about Sam Bankman-Fried ultimately amount to an exercise in casuistry or just to an honest consideration of the other side. But writing about this case led me to some interesting reflections on the nature of justice in modern human society, as well as to questions about the hidden, perhaps even taboo realities of our financial system.] I've been reading about the case of Sam Bankman-Fried and I've yet to see any definitive proof that he was guilty of willful intent to defraud. Everything about his profile confirms eccentricity, naïveté, ignorance of how the world actually works, negligence, worldly incompetence, and recklessness, yes. But even recklessness does not necessarily indicate an intent to defraud; it may merely be indicative of a person oblivious to the realities of the world and maybe even of a person almost unfathomably foolish - but a criminal actor with evil intent this makes not.

There have been many criminal actors with clear and willful intent to defraud, but they mostly took advantage of poor and middle class working people, so naturally they never saw the inside of a prison cell, and they probably never will. Sam Bankman-Fried didn’t swindle a bunch of poor people out of their hard-earned money; if he had, he wouldn’t be in prison right now. No, he just played a bit too fast and loose with a bunch of rich people’s money. Now, he didn’t intend to lose their money, and he certainly didn’t intend to steal their money, but he effectively did. He lost a bunch of rich people’s money. And that’s why he’s in jail right now. That was his real crime – let’s be real here.

But how could someone so sharp and capable also be so reckless and foolish at the same time? Surely he must have known what he was doing.

In the 2023 film Oppenheimer, Matt Damon's character General Leslie Groves often wonders how J. Robert Oppenheimer, someone so obviously brilliant otherwise, could be so oblivious to so many aspects of human society and everyday interpersonal relations. Casey Affleck and Robert Downey Jr's characters detect or suspect something more sinister in Oppenheimer, but they're actually just projecting these malignancies onto him from within their own corrupt and sadistic worldviews.

People wonder, "How could he be so stupid?" Whether it's Oppenheimer giving an interview to Boris Pash and openly divulging information that could make him the target of a DoD investigation, or Sam Bankman-Fried giving open interviews soon after the collapse of FTX and repeatedly incriminating himself with idiotic statements, people might say, "What a stupid Russian mole!" or "What a dumb financial criminal!" respectively, but could they actually be assuming, or worse, projecting criminal intent onto these individuals when there is none? After all, a person who continues to make self-incriminating statements to both the press and to the authorities, is this the mark of a criminal mastermind, or the sign of a hopeless fool? The US government wants us to believe that Sam Bankman-Fried is both, but I find this conflation to be incongruous. 

There are two kinds of people who do not remain silent when they clearly probably should: foolish criminals and the even more foolish innocent. The US government has tried to portray this guy as some kind of an evil genius, some kind of a nefarious puppet master, but I just don't see it. I don't see a person who was operating in bad faith. I just see a person who was probably insulated from the everyday realities of the world his whole life, and who was almost unfathomably oblivious to those realities and their dangers. Clearly he ran his companies in an almost unbelievably idiotic and reckless fashion, but willful intent to defraud this makes not. Criminal negligence also carries penalties, but far less severe. I also find it interesting that Bankman-Fried was arrested in the Bahamas the day before he was scheduled to testify before the U.S. House Committee on Financial Services. A cynical person might conclude that they didn’t want him to testify. Well, why not? After all, it would save them the trouble of having to extradite him from the Bahamas, and unless he planned on pleading the fifth for every committee member’s question, his testimony could only work against him in a court of law.

I suppose an even more cynical person might conclude that the authorities did not want to give Bankman-Fried any opportunity to rebut or clarify any of his replacement’s (FTX bankruptcy CEO John J. Ray III) scathing indictments and accusations of him before the American public.

A still even more cynical person might notice the benefit that Bankman-Fried’s arrest in the Bahamas and subsequent extradition to the US would have for the prosecution’s case, as it might help to create the appearance of absconding and evading justice on the part of Bankman-Fried, while arresting him in the capital after his testimony to the U.S. House Committee on Financial Services would not… reinforce the desirable narrative. In fact, it might foil it completely.

Yes, a skeptical person might find it curious that Sam Bankman-Fried was not allowed to testify before the American public in an official capacity which would allow him to give detailed and extensive answers to every question, as well as to offer rebuttals and/or clarifications to any one of his replacement’s criticisms. Were they worried he might “muddy the waters” or “corrupt our minds”? So low is their estimation of the American public’s critical faculties and powers of discernment, that he could not be allowed to testify?

A discerning person might stop to consider that if the prosecution felt that Sam Bankman-Fried’s testimony before the American public might hurt their case, then maybe they didn’t have such a strong case to begin with! Or maybe his full testimony would have been detrimental to other interests, such as the law firms which oversaw FTX’s bankruptcy and raked in exorbitant fees, especially considering that Bankman-Fried would have been able to respond to his replacement’s criticisms on the spot, as well as answer any questions from the members of the House Committee – a House Committee whose opening statements did not indicate an honest intention to seek out the truth, whatever it may be, but rather projected a need to reinforce a specific narrative right from the get go – as if the truth had already been decided. FTX customers would have undoubtedly been interested to hear about the astronomical fees the law firms overseeing its bankruptcy were charging – drawing from funds which could have been used to recoup investors’ losses. Again, there was a narrative here that did not want to be disturbed.

I find the prosecution’s manipulation of appearances to be most cynical of all, what with the needless extradition of Bankman-Fried from the Bahamas (which no doubt must have cost taxpayers a good chunk of money) and the effective barring of Sam Bankman-Fried from testifying before the House Committee on Financial Services. And in cases like these, I always wonder, if the prosecution’s charge is truly so noble, so steadfast and true, then why resort to such scummy tactics? Why go to such great lengths to make things appear a certain way, when the truth is supposedly so self-evident?

A wise man once said, "In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity."

I don't know if Sam Bankman-Fried's conviction is a testament to his actual guilt so much as to the tendency of conventional people to see guile and malice in the hearts and minds of those they cannot understand, or simply do not like.

It's understandable that when so much money is lost, people want to feel like "We found the one responsible! We found our man!" But the fact remains: if you're hit by a car in which the driver wasn't paying attention, you can't charge the driver with vehicular homicide in the first degree. You can charge him with involuntary manslaughter, yes, which can also carry heavy penalties, but you can't charge him with vehicular homicide in the first degree just because there's a public outcry for swift punishment and severe penalties. That's not justice.

And ultimately, going beyond even the legal implications, a car with an absent driver is almost the same as a car with no driver. Then who is to blame? People struggle to accept this ultimate reality, which is why it is not reflected or considered in our legal system.

The reality that at times there is no one driving our car, and likewise that we are often surrounded by driverless cars, this makes us profoundly uncomfortable. Yet this is probably closer to the truth; the idea that every single car always has its corresponding and accountable driver is simply more practical and appealing to us. It allows for a functioning society but it isn't necessarily rooted in truth.

We collectively accept this conventional conception not because it's true, but because it allows us to function. This is a nuance that I think most people ignore, or are not even aware of. Hence why so many people are possessed by an almost sadomasochistic zeal for crime and punishment, thinking that this is justice.

No, justice is much more delicate than that - a higher virtue which requires careful thought and honest deliberation. True justice should never be a means by which the collective can seek out its scapegoats and its sacrificial lambs, in order to project all its own sin and iniquity onto the blank slates of the gifted airheads, and exorcise its demons through the slaughter, torture, and bloodshed of those same empty vessels. The wicked are often so eager to get to Hades they kill every psychopomp on the way there! This is not justice; this is the blood ritual of a death cult.

True justice is restorative and rooted in community and goodwill; in other words, it is a thing foreign to the modern human being of the polis, and native still only to the numerous indigenous tribes scattered across the globe. It has become a thing foreign to us and twisted, perverted. Sadomasochistic. A poor substitute indeed... an unconvincing imitation.

But anyway, I digress...

In terms of the Sam Bankman-Fried case, which I must emphasize do not necessarily relate to the more general reflections on the nature of justice I just expounded on, the questions I'm left with are:

a) How much of this was the result of what some might call "hostile takeover" tactics on behalf of Binance, and would FTX have collapsed if not for all its customers trying to withdraw all their funds at once?

and

b) How many companies/institutions have had similar holes in their accounting that were never exposed because all their customers/constituents never tried to withdraw all their funds at once?

[twst-x-oc-headcanons]

MC works at McDonalds (request from @twisted-jamil)

Heartslabyul

Ace Tries to order from the secret menu.

Deuce Is shocked and awed by the concept of a secret menu.

Trey Shakes his head. He is a very smart man and knows the secret menu is a lie. However, he orders a hashbrown to put on his burger, because, once again, he is a very smart man.

Cater Posts the secret menu menu to Magicam. He has a phone, if you are not aware.

Riddle Is shocked and appalled that anyone would eat anything not on the real menu. That is illegal.

Savanaclaw

Jack Sneaks out to buy burgers on cheat days.

Ruggie Eats every single lunch there and waves at you when he comes in, because he is poor. This is important to remember.

Leona Never, ever goes into the McDonalds because he is a very rich man. However, Ruggie unwraps burgers for him and tells him it’s gourmet. He gives his compliments to the chef every time, and the chef is you.

Octavinelle

Jade Comes in and takes packets of ketchup for nefarious purposes every Wednesday.

Floyd Shows up every once in a while to buy 100 chicken Mcnuggies to eat before basketball practice on a dare.

Azul Offers you, the cashier, tips on how to improve sales because he is a businessman. Did you know that? No, he does not care that all you do is press buttons and work the fryer.

Scarabia

Kalim Is the child screaming McDonalds! McDonalds! in the drivethru.

Jamil Orders one black coffee and drives away. This is a meme.

Pomefiore

Epel Also works at McDonalds because he is an honest, middle class kind of guy. How relatable.

Rook Delivers “meat” for your fryers. You do not ask questions for fear of Knowing.

Vil Has never been to McDonalds in his life and telling you is his entire personality.

Ignihyde

Ortho Is a Happy Meal toy you gave away in June, but you could never which gender box he was supposed to be in.

Idia Bought every Ortho in your store, which was one. It is his Ortho. You are a father and/or mother, now. Congrats.

Diasomnia

Sebek Works the drive thru and simply takes orders by yelling. Management has asked him to stop, but if he does not yell he’ll have nothing to add to lists like these.

Silver Fell asleep while working the fryer but has not been fired for fear of angering Malleus.

Lilia Owned a McDonalds once. Or worked at one. Or has been to one. It is not clear.

Malleus Is charmed by your quaint restaurant job. Comes once a week at exactly 3 PM to get a McFlurry and you have to fix the ice cream machine in advance to ensure your McDonalds does not accidentally start a foreign war by angering a fae dignitary.

[wilhelmloverera]

@rondoolie0324 don't be sorry at all!!! I'm so glad someone wants to hear my thoughts cause I have Many!

Especially about Marcus.

At first I was very middle of the road with Marcus - I didn't want to hate him because he was simply being Simon's rebound because that's not his fault! But that was because I didn't care about spoilers and actually while many were saying that the live triangle wouldn't happen, or that it was lazy, on my other account I said how I actually didn't hate the idea all that much considering how good the writing for it would be. I KNEW Marcus was a love interest for Simon. Knowing this fact made it easier to see him as a neutral character hence why I think my now hatred of him isn't unjustified.

He's no August, but his actions were still bad on a personal level. He was completely manipulative when he pulled out the dad card, also when he said Simon didn't want to ruin a beautiful thing despite Simon telling him that he wasn't ready for something serious. I feel no empathy or sympathy for him like i may have done had he not forced the nature of the relationship

Now, the wording is important because he didn't force Simon to seek him out, but he manipulated Simon to stay there and to enter a dynamic that he said he wasn't ready for. And then Marcus got upset for Simon acting in the "wrong way" for a relationship (kissing Wilhelm + i think sleeping with Wilhelm by the time Simon fully called it off for good) despite Simon not even wanting to be in an actual relationship.

To me, Marcus was emotionally manipulative, used Micke against Simon, and used Wille and the s3xtape to bolster himself up whenever Simon tried to end things. It's also ironic because Marcus didn't even realise that him not being like Wilhelm was why Simon didn't want him. And even if he was, Simon was in love with Wilhelm, even if he sort of wished he wasn't, so chatting shit and trying to make himself seem better definitely didn't help Marcus' case. If he had listened to Simon then maybe he would have been able to see that Simon was still hung up over Wille.

I haven't seen many people talk about this either, but I really hated how Marcus used Wille's prince status against Simon. He really used the fact that Wilhelm was the Crown Prince and alluded that was (at least partly) what drew Simon to him - like some sort of gold digger or drama lover. As if Simon isn't an anti-monarchist who can blame all that went down (following the sex tape leak) on Wille's royal title.

All in all, I really despise Marcus for all he put onto Simon before insulting him and trying to make it seem just because he was at Hillerska that he didn't face anything negative from the rich people there (which we know isn't true). He was belittled and seen as an other due to his class and this mf who knew him for ??? A few weeks??? Thinks he gets to call Simon out? I hate him

And then!! The things he could call Simon out on (like having something going on with Wille while Sircus were "together"), i still can't say he has a right to do since Simon tried to say he didn't want anything serious

All in all, Marcus was emotionally manipulative and wanted to get his way - either he simply wanted to sleep with Simon and thats it, or he saw it as a pride thing and the fact that Wilhelm was chosen over him was the worst. Maybe he was written this way to show the incompatibility with Simon, but it just comes off manipulative.

Wilmon had their miscommunications and only at the end of S2 did they finally see things from the others POV, realising their love meant needing sacrifices on both sides (a maturing yet still exploring kind of love), but we have a direct juxtaposition between Marcus and Wilhelm when it comes to Simon's emotions this season when Wille tells Simon of August being his back up. Wille was honest, said no he didn't tell him so Simon didn't go to the police, saying Simon had to do what he had to do, but Wille needed to communicate and be open about his feelings (something Simon wanted from him). He said this in front of Rosh and Ayub - he didn't híde them away from everyone when he could have (another thing that Simon talks during their locker room argument is being open and not secretive). And then he left, expecting nothing of Simon and letting him do what he needed. It was only when Simon could get in trouble that Wilhelm chased Simon down to stop him.

Wille was flawed in s1, so was Simon, but while they may have fought they never manipulated one another it was just miscommunication because so much was happening all at once. Marcus simply ignored Simon's wants for his own gain, including the very nature of their "relationship".

[nationalharryleague]

Valentine’s Day

Summary: Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day. 

Genre: Valentine’s Day Fluff with Middle School Band Teacher!Harry 

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hi my valentines!!! There’s about 30 minutes left of Valentine’s Day for me and I finished this piece right in time!! Thank you to the angel herself @tbslenthusiast​ for beta reading this for me and I cant wait to hear what you all think!! More of my writing can be found in my Masterlist and I would love to hear some feedback! 

***

Valentine’s Day was never fun for you. You dreaded this day every year.

Valentine's Day in a middle school was full of teddy bears and flowers purchased by someone’s mom and having to tell 12 year olds to stop kissing in the hallway. You also knew that you would be inevitably interrogated by your students about your love life before getting any of them to listen to your lesson about the industrial revolution.

And every year, your answer stayed the same.

“It is none of your business,” you would begin with a teasing sigh. “But if you all have to know, I am happily single.”

And every year, you were met with a chorus of disappointed whines.

Your students were always desperate to wiggle their way into your personal life, a side-effect of being one of the youngest teachers in the school. You were closer in age to them than to some of your coworkers and they took advantage of that fact constantly, creating an open and honest dialogue with their favorite history teacher.

“But do you have a crush, Miss Y/L/N?” Jenna, one of your favorite students, piped up this Valentine’s Day from the front row. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way she raised her eyebrow at you from her desk, inquisitive and adorably curious.

“How about this?” you started, raising your own eyebrow to match her’s. “I’ll tell you if I have a crush, if you can tell me why the printing press was so important to the industrial revolution.”

Your heart started to drop as you watched the massive smile stretch across her face, exposing a mouth full of braces with pink rubber bands. They weren't supposed to learn about the printing press for another week.

“It made information more affordable and easier to access which bridged the information gap between the rich and the poor,” she answered like she had the textbook right in front of her. She crossed her arms triumphantly and leaned back into her seat while the class oohed and ahhed around her, knowing she had kept up her end of their deal.

You felt your cheeks heat as your classroom descended into giggles as your flustered face. “Nice job, smarty pants,” you let out with a nervous giggle.

“Remember, honesty is the best policy,” another student shouted out, pointing towards the poster on the wall of your classroom next to the world map that read the same saying.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender to the classroom full of seventh graders. “I do have a crush.”

Your students erupted at your admission. Whos, whats, wheres, whens, and whys were thrown out by the class, but only a gentle smirk rested on your features, refusing to relinquish any more information to the children demanding it.

“You aren’t getting anything else than that!” you raised your voice to settle the rowdy classroom with a laugh. You moved from the front of the class back to your desk, listening to the gentle click of your heels on the white tile and gathering the stack of worksheets for that day’s lesson. “Now, pass these around and stop asking questions,” you playfully scolded.

“That’s not what your poster says, Miss Y/L/N,” Jenna spoke up again, pointing out another poster on your wall.

Never stop asking questions! was written in bold rainbow colors on the wall and it was now staring back at you.

You let out a chuckle and shook your head at the floor, knowing they had caught you once again. “I’m going to take down all my posters and you’re going to have to learn in a boring classroom soon.”

“We are just looking out for your love life!”

“You deserve a boyfriend!”

“Or a girlfriend!”

“Just someone who loves you!”

You smiled wide at the class full of endearing faces in front of you. They had nothing but good intentions and were sweeter than Valentine’s Day candy. You loved these kids like they were your own.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern,” you confessed. “But I promise I have it under control.”

After that, they began to settle down, eventually letting you give your lesson on the industrial revolution and scientific advancements of the period.

But you knew you had told them a lie.

You did not have it under control, at all. You were hopelessly in love with the kind man with curly hair and green eyes down the hallway in the band room and had no idea what to do about it.

Harry was one of your first friends when you were hired last year, volunteering to show you around the school and fill you in on all the workplace gossip. He had flecks of cheeky mischief in his eyes as he told you about the gym and spanish teachers’ affair and how the coffee machine was broken by one of the math teachers after a bad administrative evaluation. You had listened adoringly, like he was explaining the meaning of life, and you hadn’t been able to shake your crush since.

You brought each other coffees on the daily and were always in and out of each other’s classrooms. He always made sure you were a chaperone on his field trips and you always made sure he was one on yours. He had even convinced you to let your classes come to band practice once a month so they could play music from the time period your classes were currently studying.

He was endearing and kind and charming and so so good with all the kids. He was also incredibly sexy, which made it even more difficult to control yourself around him. You had the fattest and most uncontrollable crush on him, but he was your friend and you didn’t want to ruin that.

The ring of the bell that signified the end of the class period brought you out of your Harry induced haze, waving goodbye to your students and shouting after them to do their homework and to stop kissing in the hallways. You stood against the door frame of your classroom and watched their little awkward bodies skurry towards their next class, but your attention was soon caught by the tall man who’s chocolate curls stuck out high above the sea of middle schoolers that surrounded him.

“Good morning, love. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he smiled wide, dimples appearing like they were inviting you to poke them, as he reached your classroom and your heart fluttered at his affectionate pet name.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry,” you beamed back at him, hoping he and the passing students didn’t pick up on the adoration that was becoming very hard for you to hide.

“Oi, stop that,” he called over your shoulder, slight disgust showing on his face. You turned around and were met by two kids sucking face behind you. “Guys, just go to class,” he exasperatedly sighed when he was met by their shocked and embarrassed faces. Once they were gone, the two of you descended into a fit of giggles.

“They have no shame!” you laughed.

“Absolutely none!”

“Why are you over here? Not that you aren't welcome, but don’t you have a class to teach?” you teased gently as students began to gradually fill up your own classroom.

“I thought I would stop by and wish you a happy love day.” He smiled wide at you and spoke sweetly. If you weren’t reading into it too closely, you thought he might even be blushing a bit. “And it’s okay,” he waved off his class, clearing his throat and his voice returning to normal. “They’ll survive a few minutes alone. I trust them.”

“You shouldn’t,” you giggled again.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a chuckle. “I probably should get back, but I wanted to invite you to come to my classroom and get some cookies whenever you get a chance today.”

You felt your heart soar at his invitation, no matter how friendly the proposal. “I am free next period.”

“I know,” he winked, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “I will see you then,” he grinned as he began to walk backwards down the hallway, maintaining eye contact for as long as he could, before spinning down the hall just as the bell rang to start the next period.

You tried your best to focus on your lesson about the renaissance with your sixth graders, but your mind kept floating back to the delightful man who had invited you for cookies. 

Had he invited all of the teachers for cookies? Or did he ask just you? Was he just being nice? Or did he actually want to see you? Had he been flirting with you?

The lesson was interrupted when there was a knock on your classroom door. You opened it up to find one of your students, Matt, dressed in a giant heart costume holding baskets full of labelled chocolate bars.

“I’m here to give out Valentine’s Day candy grams, Miss Y/L/N!” Matt exclaimed, his face barely fitting into the far too large hole cut out for his face. Every year the student council set up a candy gram fundraiser and the kid in the suit never got any less cute. You let out a chuckle as you looked down at him, opening the door further and letting him into the room.

You watched with a smile as he called out students’ names and the genuine surprise and flattery that passed over their features. Cheeks turned red and shy smiles played on their lips as they made their way to the front of the room and retrieved their candy from the giant pink heart.

You were caught off guard when you heard your own name be called. Matt held out the meticulously wrapped pink candy bar out to you as the class let out an “ooh” and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your cheeks heated even further as you read the label.

To: Miss Y/L/N

From: Mr. Styles

Will you be my valentine?

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you had a very hard time holding back the large and toothy grin that wanted to appear in front of your students.

“Who is it from?” one of your students asked excitedly.

“I don’t ask who your Valentines are, do I?” you teased, but held the candy bar close to your chest over your heart. You could feel your heart racing underneath your hands.

The giant pink heart standing at the front of the classroom finished distributing his candy and your class led a chorus of goodbyes as he left the room, onto the next classroom to spread some more innocent young love. You impatiently watched the clock tick down the seconds until the bell rang and released both you and your students out into the school.

And just when it felt like it might never come, the bell rang through the school and your students were off into the chaos of a passing period. You followed closely behind after you gathered your things, the candy bar slid carefully into your bag. You flowed along with the flow of children that carried you down the hallway, heart racing as Harry’s classroom came into view, your feet quickly matching it’s tempo.

Your footsteps echoed on the tile in the acoustics of the large room, your voice bouncing off the walls as you said hello. He had been tuning a guitar when you came in, his attention flashing up from the instrument in his hands to you.

“I was promised cookies,” you teased him. “They better be good.”

“I promise they are. They’re my nan’s recipe.”

“Of course they’re your nan’s recipe,” you sighed with a chuckle.

“What’s so bad about using my nan’s recipe?” he asked incredulously, grinning as he settled the guitar back into its stand and moved towards you.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed adoringly. “I just think it’s very sweet.”

“You haven’t even tried them yet! You can’t say they’re too sweet.”

You couldn’t hold back the giant smile that was so wide it made your cheeks hurt, chuckling at his cheesy joke. He made you feel warm when he moved closer to you, like someone had just turned up the heat in the large room.

“I meant that you were sweet, silly,” you tried to joke, but it came out genuine and soft. You bit on your lip nervously, replaying the affectionate tone in your head over and over.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he smirked softly at the pet name and you felt like you were soaring.

He was close to you now, having crossed the room and standing only a few feet away from your body. You wanted to close the space between you two, to kiss him with all your might, to tell him you would love to be his valentine. But just as you built up the courage, he stepped away towards his desk, retrieving a cookie for both of you.

The cookies were shaped into small perfect hearts with a coarse pink sugar pressed into the soft biscuit. The cookie melted in your mouth and the sugar granules crunched between your teeth. You had to hold yourself back from releasing a moan at the taste. They were dainty and delicate and you could only imagine how much time he had put into them.

But you weren’t shocked. Harry was like that. He was gentle, taking care and measured precision with everything he did. He spoke to the kids with tender care, making them feel talented and successful, and was always there to lend a helping hand whenever one of them needed it. And he spoke to you the same way.

“Harry-” you began softly, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“-Yes, I would love to.”

“What?”

“I would love to be your valentine.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, flattered heat rushing to the surface of your cheeks, but you also looked at him with a slight confusion. He had asked you to be his valentine, hadn’t he?

As you looked at him in slight shock, you noticed the small and meticulously wrapped pink candy bar that sat on his desk. Oh my god, they didn’t, you thought.

You could only imagine the confusion that fell onto Harry’s features as you moved away from him and towards his desk, picking up the candy bar and reading the writing on the wrapper.

To: Mr. Styles

From: Miss Y/L/N

Will you be my valentine?

Oh my god, they did.

“Harry,” you chuckled, looking back towards him and holding the chocolate bar up. “When did you get this?”

“I got it this morning when the kids delivered it,” he said dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t send this.” You walked over to your bag that you had left near the door and retrieved your own matching candy bar. “And I’m assuming you didn’t send this either?”

You handed the pink package to him and he read the label closely, eyebrows furrowing even further, then relaxing as you watched the puzzle fall together in his head as it had in yours.

“The kids sent these to us from each other, didn’t they?”

“I believe they did, Mr. Styles,” you nodded.

His cheeks turned a bright red, embarrassment flooding his features. “I’m sorry about before then,” he stammered out. You watched the panic on his face as he searched for something to say that would cover his tracks, but you cut it off when you connected your lips to his.

His lips were soft and velvety and he tasted exactly like the sweet sugar cookie he had gifted you. Your lips moved gently over each other and you slid your hands up to play with the curls that rested at the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you as his hands found their spot on your hips. You couldn’t help the smiles that fought their way into the kiss and you broke apart moments later, both flushed and flustered, small giggles leaving both of you.

“I would love to be your valentine if you would have me,” you said breathlessly as you looked up to him.

“It’s all I could ask for.”

“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever,” you said softly against his lips, already pulling him back in for more.

“We’re just like the kids in the hallway.”

“They’re not too bad. I understand it now.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! :)

[i-need-air]

"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader.

Summary: Your former bully, Midori, has confessed her undying love for one of the most famous guys at U.A.; you're just venting gossiping about it with Mei, not knowing Bakugou Katsuki is right around the corner, listening;

Warnings: None. Well, Bakugou Katsuki having various anger induced strokes > the normal > no warnings; light crackfic? subtle ending;

Word count: 4.5k;

[ Part 2 ];

"She confessed to him." You grinned, throwing a bunch of fries into your mouth like the absolute animal you were.

Mei on the other hand continued her work on whatever in the world her new prototype, or "baby", was. Still, you had the honor of having half of her attention, which was a compliment to say at least.

She just smiled, shaking her head, leading you to continue, not knowing a blond was quite literally behind the corner, just outside the door leading to the support department, frown on his face.

"She came to class giggling like an idiot saying she's got a plan." You made a face into the distance, remembering your classmate's obnoxious squeal. "Ugh, she started telling the Divas how she's gonna have The Bakugou Katsuki in the bag." An ugly snort left your body, which earned an amused chuckle from Mei.

Both of you were pretty well known to be very good friends, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were both quite the social pariahs too. She was a little bit strange or weird, as some called her, but not for a single second she cared, which was the reason you admired the girl so much in the first place. Meanwhile you've taken the role of the bitch of the whole school by far. Sadly, you were placed in the same class as your archenemy, only increasing your chances of being called said endearing term.

Middle-school was a nightmare to say at least, getting bullied for your looks, the way you spoke or dressed, anything really as long as you were the one being mocked. And who was the one doing the bullying? Midori. Stunning, graceful, baby-faced Midori. Petite yet elegant, a devil in disguise. Whoever crossed her path suffered her malice unless she had something to gain from them.

And now, sweet Midori was in the U.A.'s General Studies, coinciding with you in the majority but not all classes. It had to do with the tragedy that your quirk was so rare that the principal Nezu had to adjust a new schedule just for you. Just kidding, it was amazing. The actual tragedy was seeing her face every day.

Back to your heartbreaking backstory and origin; time made you tough, comments made you build a wall so tall and thick nobody could crumble it. Backstab after backstab made you learn that not everyone has good intentions, but in your loneliness you found Hatsume Mei. So honest and dedicated, so raw and passionate. A good person. The type of person your parents promised you'd someway cross paths with and gain such a strong friendship that nothing could tear it apart.

Becoming friends with her was easy, kinda. It took snapping back at Midori when she started her normal bullying routine on Mei, which ignored it without a care. You stepped in and the rest is history. It did feel good though, calling her a pathetic bitch before turning to the stranger with a cool gadget in her hands to compliment it. And, since she's a sucker for her babies, you had to deal with an hour of sparkly eyes and monologues about her plans and prototypes.

Funny girl, Mei. You remember thinking but the following day you passed by her usual spot to fill your curiosity, asking if she did solve the problem she was complaining about.

"He was the one she was planning to ask out?" She screamed at you, head inside a giant metal gauntlet and the reason you two started talking about said man in particular. News were extra-fresh anyway.

"Oh, yeah!" You shook your head, ashamed to exist in the same general proximity as a person like your former bully. "He's gonna be so rich and famous!" A high pitched squeal left your mouth as you tried to copy her voice. "Poor fucking guy, if only he knew."

"But people know she's a bitch!" She screamed again, repairing or adjusting something with almost all of her body inside the gauntlet. A smile, genuine and soft this time, formed on your face. The pink-haired girl wasn't one to talk bad about others or even care, but it was clear she wasn't particularly fond with Midori either, although the conversation was more for you to vent rather than gossip. Sure it was.

"Like the people from the Hero Department even care about us, the commoners." With a roll of the eyes, you followed. "If he's smart, he'll run away. If he's an asshole, he could use her too."

"What do you mean?" Pink flocks of hair suddently submerged from the gadget, eyes curious zooming on you. That probably got more than 50% of her attention and it was a new personal goal while she was at the workshop.

With shrugged shoulders, your answer came nonchalant. "He could date her and dump her like she's nothing. Would serve her right for all the shit she's talking about him." But the only response you got was a short quizzical look, followed by your exagerated sigh. "She's talking shit about him constantly, but then says he's hot and that his personality doesn't matter anyway. Money, fame, looks. She has a whole fucking life-plan! Then calls him a rabid dog!"

"Woah—" that surprised her.

"Woah indeed! Insane. It's insane. I don't know the guy but no one deserves that shit." When you got no response, you continued your speech, munching in the food with passionate hunger, words coming out almost indistinguishable. "Doubt he'd play her though. He looks like a smart guy. I've seen the Sports Festival—" you picked up your burger, giving it heart eyes. "—and I've seen the news. He's probably a good guy too, the issue is people don't see that and... Well, I understand what's it to be judged... Not many have what it takes to be a real hero but he does. Hope he finds happiness in life." Much talk for someone that doesn't know shit about the guy in particular, but even so faint, your gut instinct was trained well enough to spot malice and he lacked that. "And a therapist." And there's the little shit in you that had to drop a cheeky comment.

Mei's gaze turned downwards and even if you could see her brain do mental gymnastics to solve whatever problem she had in front of her super-eyes, she also contemplated your words with great care.

"He comes here from time to time—" she grins, smacking the grenade looking gauntlet with her weird utensil. "I noticed you two are similar." Your face twisted, eyes wide towards the girl.

Similar how? He was loud, bold with a foul mouth, definitely needed a therapist for those unresolved anger issues... But he was also bright as in whenever he went, people looked in his direction, like he shined; obviously strong, also from what you've heard smart, popular, lucky to be surrounded by kind people. Example being that very nice pink girl that had a joyous conversation with you the very first day of school and, much to your surprise, continued greeting and having sweet small talks with you every single time you saw each other. Or the blond haired guy that showed off a little bit too much and made dumb flirty comments with no bad intentions, the same blond that waved at you with enthusiasm when you'd cross paths. There was the red-head, Kirishima, that was an absolute gentleman, opening doors for you even if you had two functioning hands and smiled so bright it made your corneas burn, or also the dark haired guy, Sero, that you've seen helping literally anyone in need around the school campus with an easy going attitude and gentle grins. Bakugou Katsuki was surrounded by good people, good heroes just as amazing as him and if they liked him, he must've definitely had some good in him, right? Another point appeared in your mental presentation about the brash hero in the making was that he was way too attractive but the wise burried deep inside of you made that particular point dissappear. No need to think about that. Overall you weren't even remotely similar. Not even close. Two completely different human beings from two completely different worlds that would never collide. With that being said, there was the small chance that Mei hinted for you to get a therapist too, who knows.

"How even—"

"I mean!" She screwed something in place. "I mean in your— determination?"

"I wouldn't know that." You muttered.

"He screams I'm gonna be the best every time he's here—"

"Cute..." You vomit that endearment without thinking, but thankfully it got ignored.

"—and it always reminds me of you." A small chuckle left your mouth.

"Don't make fun of me."

"You say it too~"

"I just heal, Mei, it's not the same." Principal Nezu's speech, the speech he gave your parents months into the first year as they found themselves aware of your power made you hold your words. You had it in you. The potential. If incredible people like your teachers, like Shuzenji Chiyo or Principal Nezu twisted things around for your quirk, for how rare and powerful it is, you'd accept it.

"But you're gonna be the best healer ever, aren't you?" She taunted.

"Of course. Which reminds me—!"

"Hmm?" Her attention faded away slightly, but it wasn't a problem.

She cheered, both at you and at her finished masterpiece and proceeded to eat too, passing through the lunch hour without interruption.

"Recovery Girl is putting me on active duty at the infirmary from now on. Finally!"

Innocent pale purple eyes stared into deep crimson ones, furrowed brows covering them.

—

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't one to enjoy being annoyed or surprised and this extra managed to make him feel both things in a short notice.

Everyone around him froze in fear or wonder, awaiting his response without breathing or moving an inch. Meanwhile Whoever-she-was held a pink envelope in front of him, a perfume too sweet coming from it making him want to literally gag in the spot.

Another thing the boy did not appreciate was to have someone bullshit him. His senses were telling him to back off, alarms ringing in his head and those purple eyes held hidden intentions; he wasn't having any of it.

"Fuck off." He snapped, yet his stance was casual as he refused to move out of her way since she was the one that had the audacity to run into him.

Some gasps, even coming from his so-called idiotic friends, could be heard and an indignant Bakubro behind him as he got slapped in the shoulder but he did not care. Not until her lips started to tremble as she retreated her confession letter towards her chest dramatically. His eyebrow started to twitch at the sight.

It was a spectacle for anyone surrounding him.

"What's going on?" Shushes and whispers.

"Bakugou Katsuki just got a confession!" Gossip.

"What!? Who?!" Confusion.

"You said Bakugou Katsuki?!" Shock.

"Oh, she's pretty!" Awe.

"He told her to Fuck off! What an asshole!" Outrage.

"Is that Midori?" Surprise.

"The nerve—" Anger.

"Midori from—" Disbelief.

"Oh, my God, she's really doing it~!" Giggles.

He frowned deeper. If people were to talk about him, they should be talking about all the crap he's been doing and all the lives he saved, not because of a fake bimbo decided to cross his path.

Bakugou wasn't stupid either. With time he knew these things would eventually come in his direction, stuff he'd have to deal with in the future as fame would take over, but not now. He did not have time to entertain this show anyway.

There was only one destination in his mind and she was keeping him in the middle of the whole school cafeteria with prying eyes on them both.

"Bakugou, do something, she's about to cry!" Dunce Face harshly whispered, but turned towards the white haired girl that looked devastated in front of them. "Ignore him! Ask me out, I would never make you cry!"

He rolled his eyes so back in his head it almost hurt. With a need to hurl the food he just ate, he made a step to leave the scene but small hands with claw-like fingernails gripped his arm and he looked at her in utter disgust.

"No, I would never! He—" she sniffled but had no tears in her eyes. He gave her a scowl, trying to take his arm out of her grip but she scratched him in place with her tiny rat hands. "You're the one I love! I—" her bangs covered her face as she continued her show.

"Bakugou! Dude! Do something!" Shitty Hair said, his dumb and blind trust in people buying the act. A vein almost popped on Bakugou's forehead.

"I fucking said—" he pulled his arm so hard she fell on her knees by his side. "Fuck. Off."

Another set of gasps filled the room.

"Bakugou!"

One thing he did not want, even if he could tell it was a foul theater, was to hurt somebody. His asshole act ended at that but his pride stopped him from saying anything.

Glancing to see if she's hurt, Pink Idiot was by her side, helping her up and asking way too many fucking questions.

"No, I'm fine..." she said with such a meek voice he scoffed, also hearing all the shit everyone around him was talking.

"He's such a brute."

"What a mean guy—"

"She's crying!"

"Fucking asshole."

He gritted his teeth.

After the disaster with the League of Villains in the first year, people started to respect him for who he was yet one single, minuscule shit like this and they were all at his jugular.

"I took Bakugou-san by surprise." She excused his behavior to Ashido, which then suggested they should eat lunch together sometimes to make up for the trouble after apologizing in his behalf.

"Yeah, we'd love to have you around! Isn't that right, Bakugou?" The apologetic and almost pleading voice of his blond friend, if he ever was going to call him that anymore, just made him bare his teeth. If they wanted to get played like fools it was their problem, not his.

And that's how he found himself eavesdropping on the weirdo and an extra.

And with a single "Whatever." he left the cafeteria, going to check if his gauntlets were ready, annoyance oozing off him, making the sea of people part from his path. Except he didn't notice you rushing away a little bit in front of him, holding a bag of food, all amused.

Why the fuck was everyone talking about him? Can't they fucking keep his pretty name outta their mouths? With time and without finding a reason why the hell he was glued in place, he listened attentively, his suspicions confirmed and his ego hurt, but whoever was talking about him calmed his nerves a lot. He just needed to put a face to that voice. Just to see who's gossiping about him, nothing else.

—

With a full belly and a whole afternoon to study by Recovery Girl's side, you marched towards the infirmary after you bid your farewell to Mei. There was still time to walk around, grab something sweet for later and save any poor soul that Midori decided to sink her teeth in. It was common at this point, you getting in between her and her victims and taking the hit, yet somehow also being called a bitch by everyone. That's how high-school worked. She did have friends and they spread any word she spat. Vultures.

It was fine though. Hero [Y/N] is there to save the day no matter what. You scoffed at your own stupidity, turning the corner just to step on a leg that was sprawled on the floor.

He clicked his tongue, getting up with no worry in the world, but made no action to leave, settling for observing and analyzing you way too intensely.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, idiot." The man of the hour, the guy you've defended in front of your friend just screamed at you as he dusted off the imprint of your shoe left on his pants. Meanwhile you just paled in place before regaining your composture.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" You said, tilting your head with a frown, already knowing you will not apologize.

Unimpressed by what was going on, even if you truly couldn't point out what really was going on, you made an attempt to move past him towards the vending machines not far behind, but he caught your arm in a firm grip.

You blinked stupidly at the skin contact.

"Heard you were talkin' shit."

Your stomach dropped. Legs almost gave up too if it weren't for his iron grip holding you still. In the silence and at the satisfaction of the reaction you let out, he smirked and raised his chin, only Mei's singing voice coming from her workshop could be heard. Realization hit you. Hit you? Bitchslapped you in the face and left a mark for sure, because your cheeks started feeling heated, tingly.

He dragged you away, maybe to have the privacy to murder you in peace, but your common sense kicked in and you came back from the land of the mortified.

Much like he did before, action you saw with your two own eyes and repeated, you pulled out of his strong grip and stared as he turned towards you, mouth already opened to probably eat you alive.

"I wasn't talking shit about you, dude." You quickly spoke first.

"You don't fucking know me." He growled back, taking a step towards you but like hell you'd back down.

"Don't need to be besties to say what I said." Without understanding why he was so agitated, the only thing left to do after this beautiful turn of events was to defend the honor remaining in you, so you raised your chin to be at par with him. The action clearly took him by surprise, making him glare more, if even possible.

"I don't fucking appreciate when extras talk about me behind my back!"

"I don't give a shit what you appreciate, dude." Your laugh was the complete opposite of his menacing loud voice, like ying and yang.

"Bakugou, the name's fucking Bakugou, you extra!" Bakugou recovered quickly at your snappy self, getting more bothered as you talked.

"Okay, dude." His hands fisted, shaking in place as he stared you down but did not continue.

Silence; the hallway was now filled with silence as he boiled in his own anger and as you raised your brows in confusion. Now what? Was it time to leave? You've never met anyone like him, this was peculiar—

"NOW IT'S WHEN YOU FUCKING TELL ME YOUR SHITTY NAME, YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!"

A second passes; two; at the third you're wheezing your lungs out, laughing at the ridiculousness of the scenario.

"What the fuck are you LAUGHING AT?!" His voice got louder just to top your howling. You did not expect that.

Through a sigh, regaining your breath, you say "It's [L/N] [Y/N].", seeing him retreat in his form and cross his arms. He was still seizing you up.

"If you have shit to say to me, say it to my fucking face, understood?"

"I—... Say what now?"

"I—." He copied in a mock, getting an incredulous look from you. "You stupid or what?" Your upper lip lifted, ready to cuss him to infinity and beyond but he continued. "Like about that bitch from before and shit—" even if he still was loud, he placed his hands in his pockets and looked more interested in the way the tiles on the wall were placed instead of your person. "An' like you told the weirdo—"

No time to be shocked at the implied; his last word enraged you, making your body shake with rage. "Don't fucking dare to call her a weirdo ever again."

Like a challenge, he snapped his face back at you, ready to take it.

"Or what?"

"Listen here, fucker—" now that was a nice surprised face he was pulling. "Just because I gave you a pat on the back in there doesn't mean you can disrespect people just because you think you're the shit. You're not. Now get out of my fucking way." With a final push to his shoulder, your mind was focused on going to the infirmary, steam almost coming out of your nostrils.

"Hey, extra!"

Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him. went through your mind, marching away without a glance back. Not until—

"[L/N]! You're a healer, hah?" That's interesting. He stood where you left him, watching.

"What's it to you?"

Someone sane would've left at your tone but this guy walked towards you then showed you his arms, recently scratched. Images came back to you about the cafeteria incident but did not underst—... did he want to get healed?

You scoffed.

"They're scratches, dude."

"They annoy me. Now heal." All the energy you had left in your body was channeled towards the slow blink you threw at him, at which he scoffed. But they did look nasty— and Midori did them. It was a curse by itself to look down at your own arms and remember that face, so the guardian angel in you decided to take control and be the better person.

Gentle fingers barely tapped his muscular arm. Smile crept up on your lips, feeling absolutely delighted at his obvious stiffness at the skin contact and the clear interest in his eyes, specially when the scratches started disappearing into nothing, leaving smooth silk skin under.

"Hey— Wha— Where the fuck do you think you're going?!" raspy voice got lost in the distance and one thought in your head.

"Want a lollipop for being a good patient too?" You mock and his face explodes in all shapes of red. It would've been great to mock him more, enthralled by his reactions, but with that you turned and left, ignoring the tingling under your fingers that should not be there and your stomping heart.

Did he wait all the lunchbreak to talk to you?

—

A long queue was ahead of you, earning the longest sigh out of your lungs. Life was pain sometimes. Mei couldn't hang out, food was too far away, the delicious croissants Lunch Rush made ran out as far as you could see. Pain. Just pure pain.

And disappointment. When you walked away with your food in a bag, maybe to sit under a tree and enjoy some peace and quiet, you saw her. Midori sitting at a table you did not expect. At the same table where Ashido Mina, Denki Kaminari, Kirishima Eijirou and Hanta Sero sat at. Good people. Honest, good people about to get bitten by a snake. If she was there, then Bakugou decided—

"You. Sit."

Thinking about the boy somehow summoned him behind you. Food in hand and bored expression on his face, he passed you not without giving you a stink eye. Indeed, disappointment.

You shrugged, trying not to pay much attention to the pang in your heart as you moved forward, but a voice— his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You. Get the fuck out of my face." His growl made everyone around him turn to watch, you being one of them. There was no excuse to what came next, no way to run away past it and dissappear. He nodded his head at you out of all people and pointed at the seat still occupied by Midori; her purple eyes big, shocked, running between your frame and the blond's.

Do you know what it felt to be put in the spotlight without warning? Well, congratulations because that was your life now.

"Ba—Bakugou-san?" Her voice, now highed up and meek followed, then a small scream as Bakugou slammed his food on the table. His friends sat there, wide-eyed, but made no attempt to interrupt.

"Did I fucking stutter, bitch? Or want me to turn into a rabid dog for fucking real?"

You choked on your own spit, bag of goodies about to drop on the floor once you saw her horrified face. She knew that he knew. And when her pale eyes, filled with sudden malice, act dropped, turned to you it's when you realized she figured out where he found out from.

Not like you cared, really, but the little shit that always had to poke out every time she was in the same room as you decided to finally show up, making you wave and send her a wink.

"I said MOVE!" now— that growl, raspy and filled with anger startled her. The orange juice in her hands spilled all over her uniform and woke her up from whatever delusion she was in. With zero time to reconsider, every belonging of hers was picked up with trembling hands and she ran away to her group of cockroaches.

A smile was already settled on your face; your brain was storing that whole interaction deep within, ready to bring it back up whenever you needed a good laugh.

Life was pain and disappointment, you say? No. Life was great. Or more importantly, Bakugou was. Not like he needed to know. But he was a decent guy as he proved—

"THE FUCK YOU STANDING THERE LIKE A DUMBASS?! I SAID SIT!" —to be a pain in the fucking ass and the bane of your existence.

You gave him a face then turned to walk away, even rushing more when you heard his chair screeching on the floor. The exit was so close, so near, freedom never felt this great, the sunlight kissing your skin giving you a new hope to live. But not for long because he grabbed your hand and started dragging you towards his table.

Your hand was in his hand and he was dragging you—

Your hand— his big, warm, a little bit sweaty hand—

How could you ruin such a beautiful moment? Eyes on you two, shocked, silence, his adorable red ears being the only thing you could see as he was completely in front of you, still dragging you towards his friends...

"Did you wait all lunchbreak yesterday to talk to me?" You collided into him as you finished the sentence, his way taller form stiffened so much you felt you single-handedly broke Bakugou Katsuki for good.

But when he turned... Oh, when he turned. Biggest deer-caught-in-the-headlights eyes you've ever seen on anyone, cheeks painted so red you almost melted in the spot, lips trembling as his head worked a thousand miles per second just to find a retort. And you prepared yourself for—

"NO, I FUCKING DIDN'T! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU FUCKING EXTRA? I'D NEVER WAIT FOR SOMEONE LIKE YO— ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME!" Mina's waving hand caught your attention and smiled at her. Your hand was still in his, gripped harshly as he still hasn't noticed it's still there.

"Hey! [L/N], long time no see!" She cheered, ignoring the living shit out of her screaming friend, like she's used to it.

"FUCKING LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU—"

"Hey, chill, dude. Now let go of my hand, I wanna talk to Ashido." You smiled sweetly, making extra effort to wave your linked hands arond until he finally noticed. He zapped his hand away so fast, like he's been bitten by a wild animal. Maybe even a rabid dog, if you will.

You couldn't ignore your own flustered state as you walked past him, giving him a one up, adding the absolute scandalized face he had into the back of your mind for safekeeping.

"Come sit with us!" The pinkette offered.

"Oh, hey, I know you! You're by Hatsume's workshop all the time!" Kirishima intervened with a surprised face that broke into a grin. "Nice to officially meet—"

"I fucking said." he appeared, sitting in front of you. "My name's Bakugou."

"Ok, dude, but I'm talking to someon—"

"BAKUGOU KATSUKI!" Could be heard from the stratosphere.

Note: I just realized Midori means Green [ fucking duh ] but I'm not gonna change the name or her description. I think her parents fucking up her name was the start of many accidents leading into the Midori we all know and hate. Also, I know you understand. We all know a Midori in our lives. Much love.

Note 2: I keep editing it but tumblr dot com slash Install App on Phone fucks my editing and switches paragraphs all around! If you find any PLEASE tell me, I'd really appreciate it!!!

[peachyysugaa]

enhypen members on a café date ☕️♡ requested by anon

– heeseung

what kind of café he takes you to: his local favorite, it's on the cozier or quieter size, which gives him the privacy to spend quality time with you~

the menu: now serving your favorite coffees, teas, and sandwiches! from iced americanos to milk teas (bubbles/boba if you want) to paninis, this café has got all the regulars. what would you like to order? ♥

activities you do: while the two of you should probably go to a gaming café for this, you and heeseung always sit in a more private booth/area side-by-side and play multiplayer games on his switch. if you're not gaming, the two of you casually talk about your days while sipping your drinks, resting your head on his shoulder or working on your respective things, schoolwork maybe for you or producing for heeseung.

short blurb: "heeseung, you let me win." "no, you're just really good at this game, love." (˶◡‿◡) you just laugh and roll your eyes, pinching his cheeks before resting your head on his shoulder in the middle of your favorite booth, in your favorite café that was filled with precious memories.

rest of the members under the cut! <3

what kind of café he takes you to: either the most expensive café ever or the most aesthetic (which tends to be pretty expensive anyway), you already saw this coming because we all on that rich boy!jay agenda.

what kind of café he takes you to: either the most expensive café ever or the most aesthetic (which tends to be pretty expensive anyway), you already saw this coming because we all on that rich boy!jay agenda.

what kind of café he takes you to: either the most expensive café ever or the most aesthetic (which tends to be pretty expensive anyway), you already saw this coming because we all on that rich boy!jay agenda.

the menu: how do you even pronounce most of these drinks? ಠωಥ is that a caviar-flavored drink LOL say sike 🅱ls ‼ ahem, so order something familiar to you or let jay pick something for you (it might be expensive, but that's okay let him spoil you 🥺 you deserve it, king/queen/royalty)

activities you do: jay loves listening to your day, and you love listening to his. he often likes to tell you about new things he's learned, and you watch as his eyes brighten over these, loving every sparkle. with jay, i don't see him going to the same cafés all the time: he likes to explore, so the only thing that's consistent is the amount of quality time you two spend together.

short blurb: "jay..!" "hm? what's up? is something wrong with your drink?" "no, it's just...?" you take a second to think about your phrasing before you answer. "is there supposed to be gold foiling on this?" "oh yeah, it's on trend now, babe. i heard it tastes as expensive as it looks." "and as it costs?" 🤨 "don't worry about it, y/n. this is my treat for you since you've been working harder than usual these days." (۶ •̀ᴗ•́)۶

– jake

what kind of café he takes you to: a dog café, let's be honest he really wants to pet dogs and he would get along so well with them. it's the golden retriever energy 🤩

the menu: aside from dog treats to feed the puppers (not jake), re-energize with refreshing drinks from lemonade to peach tea! the dessert menu also looks enticing, honey brick toast and pancake art shaped like the many dogs that prance around the vicinity.

activities you do: pet and feed the dogs, of course, duh you're at a dog café 🐕 for some reason, they take after jake very well, so well that one is practically attached to the hip with him as he pets it, an australian shepherd. he asks you nicely to take pictures of him with it and you tell on him to layla.

short blurb: "y/n, y/n, look! this one loves me!" "i can see that, jake." "y/n, it's an austalian shepherd, do you think he knows i'm aussie too?" "maybe he does." "take my picture with it?" "oh, so proof for layla that you're cheating on her?" "NOOO LAYLA ㅠㅠ"

– sunghoon

what kind of café he takes you to: a modern chic café. it's got the industrial feel to it and perfectly matches his sophisticated vibes.

the menu: only coffees and plain teas! specializes more in hand brewing coffee and the like. also has some sandwiches or pastries for you to taste.

activities you do: with sunghoon, it's mostly talking. the way you two can talk about anything and everything really makes your relationship so comfortable. you two also watch videos and make side comments here and there together. don't forget to take each other's pictures and selfies together, there is no visual hole here and the setting is perfect, what are you waiting for? 📸

short blurb: "are you getting my good side?" "huh, but every side is your good side." "oh yea, you're right." you shake your head at his way of getting a backhanded compliment and simply snap the picture of him and his coffee. looking at it makes you smile, but he quickly pulls you into his side and holds up his phone. "now time to show off my beautiful s/o."

– sunoo

what kind of café he takes you to: a character café! whether it's kakao or line friends, you two are both there to enjoy the too-cute-to-eat types of food, taking many pictures before savoring it.

the menu: character-themed food and drinks! they're carefully planned out from the ingredients to the witty names, all to match the theme of the café. you order a full course meal with sunoo, sharing your entrees with each other and drinks, so you both have the chance to taste what you can!

activities you do: did you hear me? a full course meal 🗣‼️ you two are eating your weight's worth of food because (1) it's cute and (2) it's expensive! sunoo is a chatterbox, and i just know he scored you two a picture with either one of your favorite characters at a lower price. both of you also take part in any chants cheerfully~

short blurb: "you're as cute as all the characters here, y/nie!" "yah, we're both cuter than all of them, don't lie." "yes, you're right, we would be doing them a favor by taking a picture with one of them." "cheers to us then?" you ask holding your glass already. "cheers~" he replies and clinks yours with his. all of a sudden, your favorite character comes by with your plates of food. enamored, you ask if you and sunoo can take a picture with them, to which the servers agree happily as long as you pay accordingly. the two of you pose to your hearts' content with the cute character. after which, you think sunoo unintentionally charmed the servers to give him a lower price for the photo by signing it and letting them post it somewhere, which you can't help but think is so befitting of him.

– jungwon

what kind of café he takes you to: a cottage-style café or specifically, the sheep café in korea. the latter is actually located in hongdae and literally 2 sheep roam around! (search up thanks nature café) he would just want to touch their fluffy fur 🐑

the menu: very green, as in matcha and mint and pandan and the like. also has some cute garden-themed pastries/drinks like the good ol' throwback, dirt in a cup, (basically some crushed oreos with gummy worms), which jungwon is all over.

activities you do: when one goes to animal cafés, you pet the animals! so pet the sheep you two do, but very cautiously, of course. jungwon tries to ba with them, maybe even asks if they make clothing out of their wool.

short blurb: "do you make anything with their wool?" jungwon suddenly asks the worker nearby. "huh? oh yes, we actually do have some sweaters in store if you would like to see them." "yes please." "alright, one moment please." "wonie, will you actually buy one?" "i mean, yea, who else is able to say that they met the sheep their clothing came from?" it's overly priced, but he buys a scarf anyway and wraps it around the two of you despite it being summertime. "jungwon, it's hot in this!" (/Д`)

– niki

what kind of café he takes you to: manga café or a café with really cool latte art. riki would have fun either way, reading manga together or trying out latte art himself!

the menu: the manga café has all your regulars and even offer comfy snack foods like bungeoppang and ddeokboki! on the other hand, the latte art café really focuses on their art, thanks to the machine that prints out any design you want on top of it (which riki is amazed by).

activities you do: in a manga café, you would have a private room together and just chill and roll around in it. at the latte art café, he's having so much fun seeing all the characters and drawings are put on top, even when they're not his (he orders shin-chan or doraemon). they offer 3d latte art classes and the two of you take one!

short blurb: "y/n, your cat looks funny." "riki, it's deflating :(" "draw the face anyway." "how come yours is so nice?" "oh, i just frothed the milk myself." "what? riki, you are so cool~" he becomes bashful and makes use of his classes by buying the necessary materials to make you different 3d latte arts every day.

a/n: YAYY this was so cute thank you for your request again, anon! <3 i hope you liked it, especially the format hehe

[mypoisonedvine]

Can u pls write something like dark!reader x steve rogers high school AU , where R is rich spoil brat & she always had a crush on steve but she always bully him by calling him skinny and all and Then yrs later, time changes her family discarded her from will and she becomes poor and need job, got hired for PA by dark ceo!steve rogers who she bullied her all school lifee😈😈

okay this is a lot for a headcanon but I don’t have time to do a whole oneshot BUT I also really like it so we’re gonna just make a longass headcanon here we gooooo

warnings for heavy dub con, choking, slapping, degradation (by steve), bullying (by the reader), abortion mention, brief mention of/implied assault.

“heyo pipsqueak” you called out to get steve’s attention, laughing when he frowned.  “looks like you grew a whole inch over summer, be sure to have your mom draw a line in pencil on the doorframe.”

he just rolled his eyes and got back to chatting with his friend.  not friends, friend, cause he only had one: bucky, who snarled at you as well.

“pick on someone your own size, if you can find somebody with as big a head as you,” bucky shot back, making you scoff.

“you know, it’s a shame you hang out with this deformed freak, you could’ve been popular.  you’ve got the looks for it.”

“I’d rather keep my brains, thanks,” bucky explained as you walked away with your posse of fellow popular kids.

you didn’t used to be so mean to steve.  it was sort of a comedy of errors, really.  you two had been friends in elementary school-- you, him, and bucky were the rambunctious trio up until middle school.  

things change for boys and girls in middle school.  guys just get along with each other and don’t think about it much.  girls, though... girls need to be sharp.  it’s eat or be eaten.  and you wanted to eat.

you were lucky that you developed early.  it meant that girls respected you and boys feared you-- not just for your attractive features but for the fact that you loomed a foot over most of them.

you started to take advantage of it.  and by the time you realized you had feelings for your best friend steve, it was already too late-- he was at the bottom of the food chain and you were at the top.  

you told your new girl friends that you wanted to take steve to the sadie hawkins.  they laughed at you.  for a moment, you felt what it was like to be outcast and you never wanted to feel it again.  so, you told steve and bucky that you’d grown apart.  and you were happy to just be former friends...

it was steve that started it.  he called you out.  he told you that you were nothing like who he used to know-- you had become vapid and cold and narcissistic.

“you’re so busy worrying about what other people think, you never take the time to think for yourself.”  that was what he said.  and it fucking hurt.

“saw you talking to your boyfriend steve the dweeb,” your friend tanya announced at lunch just a few minutes after that conversation.  and you were angry, and hurt, and truly friendless despite being surrounded by other popular girls.  so you said some things you could never take back.

“steve?  as if.  did you know he still sleeps with a security blanket?  and he has his friend bucky fight for him every week cause if he took a punch he’d crumble to dust?”

and so, mortal enemies were formed.  it only got worse in high school, as you fought to secure your title at the top while steve and bucky’s presence filled your heart with guilt and your gut with anger.

if only you’d known how quickly you could fall from your high horse.

it started when you dated tanya’s ex, brock.  she was made so she spread a rumor that you would fuck any guy on the football team, even all of them at once.

apparently, a lot of people believed it since tanya had been your sidekick since 6th grade.

two football players believed it.  and when you wouldn’t follow through on it, you got yourself a black eye.

that meant you missed school for a week because you couldn’t possibly show up looking like that.  tanya told everyone it was because you got grounded and sent away to church camp after your parents caught you in bed with one of the neighbors.  so now your reputation was ‘sleeps with football players and old men.’

only brock had been there for you.... but it turned out he had motives of his own.  you had originally planned to wait until college, but brock was clearly wanting something in return for putting up with dating pariah #1... so you let him take your virginity.

the condom broke.  when you dashed to the trash can to hurl in the middle of history class, you knew something was wrong.  (and lost that many more social points in the process.)

brock dumped you the second he found out you were pregnant.  didn’t even help you pay for the abortion.  he got back together with tanya and told her the real reason for your ‘medical absence’.  and that was the last straw for the former homecoming queen.

the humiliation drove you to some.... poor choices, for the next few years.  you tried not to think about them now, but it was hard not to when their consequences were staring you right in the face: no money, no job, nearly homeless, and desperate.

over a hundred job applications later, only one had called you back and scheduled an interview.  and you only needed one.

so there you were, waiting in the chilly lobby area while the receptionist typed away and chomped her gum, tapping your toes and glancing out the window occasionally.

you were surprised when you had been told your interview would be on the 51st floor.  you sort of assumed it would just be some random manager interviewing you, not somebody important enough to have a waiting room like this, or a view like this.

when a man stepped out from the nearby hallway, your eyes went wide.  he was tall, and handsome, and obviously muscular underneath the exquisite suit.  you suddenly felt underdressed in your hand-me-down business clothes.

then he called your name.  and you realized he was going to interview you.

you stood up and nodded.  “you can follow me to my office,” he instructed with a smile, leading you down the hall to the corner office.  you were in awe of the grandiosity of it all.  you were dumbfounded when you saw CEO on the door.

“there must have been a mistake,” you explained as he shut the door behind you.  “I... I’m just interviewing for an entry-level position.”

“no, there’s no mistake,” he shook his head, “I have you exactly where I want you.  take a seat.”

he circled his desk and sat on the other side of it, resting his elbows on the desk and giving you an oddly smug smile.  an awkward silence was finally broken when he realized, “you must not remember me.”

“I... have we met?” 

“I don’t blame you, I look pretty different,” he shrugged.  “I must’ve grown a whole inch this summer.”

you gave him a confused look before realization dawned on you, along with shame, and fear.

“oh... oh my god, Steve?!” you squawked.  he just grinned.  “you look... you look...”

“taller?”

sexy.

“you look great!” you said aloud instead.

“yeah,” he agreed, “wish I could say the same for you.”

you swallowed dryly.  “so that’s what you want,” you sighed, “to get back at me.  I understand.  I deserve it...”

“I don’t want revenge,” he denied.  “I’m just sorry to see you haven’t been... thriving, since high school.  your job history--” he scanned your resume briefly-- “well, you don’t have one.  have you been slumming it all this time?”

“without my parents’ money?  yeah,” you admitted.  

“surprised you applied here, instead of turning tricks on 5th and Columbus.”

your back straightened and your eyes went wide at that comment.

“I mean, you’re already dressed for it,” he smirked.

you stood up and crossed your arms.  “if you’re just going to insult me, then I’ll leave now.  I’m sorry for everything I did to you, steve,” you announced, voice shaky with oncoming tears.

“can you really afford to leave?” he pressed.  “if you have a chance at a job?”

that, unfortunately, got your attention.  “you... you might actually offer me something?”

“I will offer you something,” he corrected, “if you just sit down and listen.”

you relented, returning to your seat.  you could stand a lot more insults if there was money on the line.

“to be honest, there’s no way I can hire you for the position you applied for,” he sighed.  “you’re just underqualified.  but I think I can create a position for you.”

you liked the sound of that.  “what kind of position?”

“well, that’s tricky, seeing as you don’t have any skills,” he frowned, “except one.  so that’s the one I plan on using.”

the look in his eyes made it all too clear what he was referring to, but as you shrunk into the leather chair he went ahead and clarified.

“I’ll pay you whatever salary you saw in the ad.  but you won’t be doing data analysis or office management or anything like that.  all you’ll be doing is spreading your legs for me whenever I fucking want.”

fear shot up your spine; his eyes were devouring you, pinning you to the chair, and you tried to process that.  “I--”

“before you say anything,” he interrupted immediately, “let’s just be perfectly clear that this might be your only shot at a real job.  what I’m offering has better pay than stripping, and better benefits than hooking.  and unless you have any education or experience I don’t know about, you’re totally fucked.”

“seems like I’m fucked either way,” you mumbled, making him laugh.

“see, you’ve still got that sharp tongue,” he grinned.  “can’t wait to put it to better use.”

maybe it was just desperation for cash.  maybe it was because he was good-looking and you could do a lot worse.  maybe it was because, on some level, you felt like you deserved his punishment after how horribly you’d treated him.

“I’ll do it,” you sighed.  “when do I start?”

he stood up and reached across the desk to grab your neck, glaring at you.  “right now.”

his free hand was already fumbling with his belt, the one on your throat guiding you downwards.  “on your knees,” he instructed, and you slipped out of the chair and onto the floor.

he let go of your neck and you figured he was going to come to you, but instead he stood still and demanded: “crawl.”

debasing as it was, you crawled on your knees to his side of the desk, and he laughed at you bitterly.  when you reached his feet and popped back up, you gasped at the sight of his hard cock right in front of your face. it was bigger than your face.  and it was dripping precum.

“don’t get so bug-eyed, you can handle it,” he grinned.  “if your mouth’s as big as I remember...”

you didn’t want to hear any more.  you just wanted to get this over with, so you quickly took his head between your lips and started to suck.  you were shocked when he slapped you, hard enough to knock his length from your mouth and to make you reach up and clutch your stinging cheek.

“fucking whore,” he grimaced, “did I say you could put it in your mouth?  god, you’re so fucking desperate.  just open your fucking mouth and I’ll show you what I want, okay?”

you nodded and stammered an apology, looking up at him with watery eyes and an open mouth.  he swiped the latest drop of precum on your tongue before gliding his cock over it, grabbing your hair to keep you steady as he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

“fuck, that’s better,” he sighed.  “so much better when you just do what you’re told.  I remember how you used to be so cruel with this mouth.  now you’re being so welcoming...”

you just sat there and let him use your mouth, trying not to gag when he hit your throat.

“look up at me,” he instructed, “yeah, that’s it.  can’t have you forgetting who’s doing this to you, now can we?”

that went on for a bit longer until mascara-stained tears streaked your face, which he seemed rather proud of.

“damn, wouldn’t mind having you swallow my come right now,” he admitted, “but I have bigger plans.  get up, bend over my desk.”

you coughed briefly when he pulled out, but did as you were told.  he instantly yanked your skirt up over your ass and spanked you several times roughly, making you sob and whine.

“wanna see this ass all bruised up in the shape of my hand,” he explained.  “so we can both remember how hard I fucked you.”

he tore your panties like they were paper, chuckling when he found you already wet.

“dripping already, just from choking on my cock?  poor baby...”

you spread your legs slightly, though you were sure nothing was going to adequately prepare you for his size.

“you figured out how to use birth control since graduating, right?” he asked, and you nodded quickly.  “good.  cause I’m not using a condom,” he continued as he let his cock glide over your folds, groaning slightly, “and there’s no way in hell I’m pulling out.”

he pushed forward in one brutal stroke, making you cry out loudly.  you really hoped these rooms were mostly soundproof.

“shit, you’re tight,” he hissed, already pulling back and thrusting back in.  “clearly you recovered from your years of slutting it up in high school.”

“that-- that wasn’t true,” you defended.

“oh, just shut up,” he growled.

he fucked you fast and deep, his hips pushing yours into the edge of his desk with each thrust.  his hands pinned you down at your shoulders, another reminder that you were entirely at his mercy.

“fuck, this is just what you needed... somebody to put you in your place.  makes sense that it should be me, since you hated me so much.”

“I didn’t h-hate you,” you hiccuped. 

“yeah, you wanted me, didn’t you?”

“always,” you admitted.

“wanted my fat fuckin’ cock to tear up your pussy?  is that it?”

“yes,” you moaned, “yes, steve, wanted to be yours.”

“even when I was skinny and short?”

“even when you hated me,” you added.

he growled slightly and you felt your walls tighten around him suddenly.  he chuckled, clearly aware that you were enjoying this.

“you want more, baby?  want me to fuck you harder?”

“whatever you want,” you answered instead.  “just use me however you want.”

he moaned and leaned down to cage your body in with his.  “fuck, baby... you’re taking this better than I thought you would.  such a good girl for me, huh?  such a good little slut.  want me to use you, baby?  take all my anger out on you?”

“yes,” you whispered, sobbing when he began to fuck you more brutally than you thought possible.  but it felt good.  so good that your legs were shaking, so good that you felt even better when he tugged your hair.

“yeah, gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?” 

you nodded and bit your lip.

“m’ close too,” he admitted, “you’re gonna be so full of my come, it’s gonna be dripping down your legs when you walk out of here...”

your orgasm made your body shake and your eyes roll back.

“fuck, I can feel you coming,” he groaned, “fuck, just like that-- fuck!”

you felt his warmth fill you as his cock flexed against your walls.  you were busy trying to catch your breath when he slumped down on top of you and pushed the air from your lungs.

“damn... didn’t think I was gonna come that fast,” he sighed.  “see what you do to me?  fuck, I knew this was a good idea.”

sure, it felt good, but you were sure he was only going to get rougher and meaner the longer this went on.  you couldn’t imagine how you were going to get out of here without somebody noticing your wrinkled clothes, messed-up hair and, as he’d pointed out himself, come all over your thighs.

“guess I’ll see you at 8am tomorrow, huh?” he chuckled, giving you an unexpected peck on the cheek.  you couldn’t answer, though, interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing.  “oh, sorry, gotta get this.”

he reached for the phone and picked it up, bringing to his ear all without pulling out of you or even lifting his body from on top of yours.

“bucky, hey,” steve grinned as he spoke into the phone, looking down at you and stroking your hair, “you’re not gonna believe who I ran into today...”

[lazykcdoodler]

Thoughts on Louie and Della's Relationship + which of the triplets is my vote for Most Likely to hold any sort of longterm grudge against their mom (and why it would be Huey)

I was looking through the Della Duck tag in my blog, when I came across some discourse about the Della-Louie relationship dynamic that I reblogged a while back. I was reading thru the comments and saw someone's HC about how S3 Louie might still hold a small grudge against Della for stealing the Spear of Selene.

And I'm like, no?? If any of the kids in S3 and beyond would hold any sort of substantial grudge against Della for taking the Spear, it would obviously be Huey.

Wait, why did I think that-

Then because Huey's not explored enough, I had to take a step back and think about why I thought of him as the most likely candidate.

First, to work thru my thoughts on Louie and Della's relationship, and why he's less likely to hold a grudge against her in the long run. To start things off, he and Della already had their big clash and make up in the S2 finale. Remember this?

Their small arc in S2 did important things for their character development. That's not to say that they'll never argue again, or that they won't ever have problems. I can certainly see Louie using the Spear as ammunition for a future fight, if things came to that. But Louie and Della have other traits in common, aside from sharp scheminess and their tendency to think that they're the smartest people in any room.

Louie and Della are communicators. Yes, they're both sly and manipulative. But their success in that department comes from their ability to understand people. Dewey might've inherited Della's impulsiveness and natural charisma- but his inclination toward dramatics, his need to be well liked by others, and his desire to stand out among his family and peers, all mean that Dewey is more likely than Louie (but not Huey) to keep secrets and his personal feelings quiet. Della and Louie? Much less so.

It took Louie less than a year to voice his insecurities about his capabilities as an adventurer to Huey. When their mom came back to the Manor, Louie voiced his personal concerns in the very same episode. Louie is a crier. He complains a lot. He's an excellent orator. By far, Louie is the easiest triplet to read as a character, because his thoughts and his intentions are made known to the audience very quickly.

On Della's side of the equation, it's strongly implied throughout the series that she served as the emotional translator between Donald and Scrooge. Don't get me wrong; Scrooge and Donald love each other very much, and they understand each other in a way that very few others do. But when wires get crossed and either of them clam up on their hurt feelings (or fight about other things to avoid the elephant in the room), Della comes in to mediate. She voices whatever the other person won't say out loud. But that deserves its own post.

Regardless of any trouble between Louie and Della, I'm sure of three things. 1) Della and Louie love and care about each other, 2) Della is trying her hardest, Louie doesn't like getting into fights, and he admires passion as a trait in other people, and 3) in spite of everything- despite how agreeable Huey is, or how Dewey's such a momma's boy- out of the boys, Della's relationship with Louie is probably the healthiest in the long run. When it comes to his feelings, Louie is the most emotionally honest triplet. If he beats around the bush, it won't be for long.

While Dewey and Della ride the same wavelength (which causes its own problems), she grounded Louie in Timephoon and said those infamous words because she's been in Louie's place before. She knows what scheming and selfishness got her and her family, and she doesn't want Louie to do the same thing. Because she knows she was harsh- and she knows she might've been too harsh, since she just began learning how to be an authority figure- Della is probably less confident with her ability to handle Louie properly. Which means she's more likely to go to Donald for help with Louie's issues, far more often than she might for Dewey and Huey. Louie will always let Della know where she stands with him. And while she won't take his shit, Della will listen and reciprocate his emotional honesty with her own.

Huey is not good at emotional honesty. Don't get me wrong, he's great at helping other people. But unlike Louie, Huey is as emotionally transparent with his insecurities as a steel bear trap.

So. Why Huey? As I mentioned above, he and Della have stuff in common. They enjoy video games and exploring. They're both outdoorsy. Della is giving this her best shot, and Huey's a kind kid. They get along fine, so obviously things must be fine. Right?

Rrriiiigggghhhhtttt. So, why do I think that Huey's the most likely of the triplets to have any residual resentment toward Della for taking the Spear?

Dewey admired Donald's commitment to his family, but he had to learn to respect him. Louie respected Donald's passion and work ethic, but he had to learn to admire him. Huey never had to learn any of that; Donald has held Huey's respect and admiration from Day 1.

Huey's uncle has a terrible temper. He's easily misunderstood by others. He's the hardest worker on the planet, but he's often underappreciated. Huey can relate. This intrinsic understanding is the root of Huey's longstanding admiration and respect for Donald's character and Donald's efforts. Despite their pre-series financial insecurities, Donald successfully raised three boys on his own while providing them with a relatively middle class lifestyle. Despite everything, Donald is rich in the love of his family and friends.

When it comes to Donald's difficulties with public society, out of his brothers, Huey is the most empathetic to their uncle's plight. He might not be a father of three, but Huey holds the best understanding of the responsibilities that Donald undertook on their behalf.

And therein lies the rub.

Huey Duck is the Responsible One. He works hard, takes his duties as the eldest triplet very seriously, and helps Donald wherever he can. Whether by serving as a vocal translator during a bank transaction, taking charge of his siblings when their uncle is away, or speaking in Donald's defense when his brothers call him boring or lame, Huey tries to makes things easier.

Della probably did some of those things for Donald when they were younger, and vice versa. I'm 99 percent sure that Donald has been teaching her how to AdultTM since she got back from the Moon.

(Because her impulsiveness got her stranded for 10 years).

Huey and Della love each other. They get along great. They have plenty in common. But Huey Duck is by-the-book, and naturally inclined toward hard work- just like his Uncle Donald. Della ripped up the book, took a shortcut, and had to learn to become hardworking the hard way. Huey Duck is the Responsible One. Della had to take a crash course in becoming a Responsible Authority Figure after Louie's scheming almost erased the family from history.

There are many reasons to admire Donald, but his ability to wrangle the three of them is probably near the top of Huey's list. If Donald wasn't responsible before the SOS Incident, he certainly learned to be. Huey has his own lifetime of trouble dealing with Louie's cons, Dewey's impulsiveness, and their collective recklessness and disregard for Huey's work and Huey's passions. They're difficult and infuriating, but Huey tries. And whenever Huey tries, his respect for Donald probably rises. Because Donald isn't their sibling- he's their uncle, their guardian, their first parent since the day the triplets hatched. While the triplets probably had honorary family in their lives long before they met Scrooge (apparently, Mouseton and Duckburg are very close to each other), Donald was HDL's only parent for 10 years.

Because Huey's mom was reckless, and got stranded on the Moon.

At least Huey knows where Louie and Dewey got it from. (It's bad enough, coming from them).

But Huey Duck is the oldest. He needs to be a figure of strength and capability. He needs to be a leader, needs to provide support, needs to be a good role model. His family relies on him for that sort of thing. Mom's been through a lot. Uncle Donald has been through a lot. Huey spent ten years watching his uncle go through a lot. Huey needs to set an example. He's the oldest- which means he needs to extend a hand, make an effort, and bury any proverbial hatchet even if it kills him a little.

(Huey wants things to run smoothly. Huey doesn't want to be a burden for others. Canonically, Huey locks away a lot of his own problems and internal anxieties...until his control slips. Huey hates it when that happens).

Let the record show that I love Della Duck. She's one of my favourite characters. I love how hard she tries, and she's come amazingly far. I'm sure Huey appreciates her efforts.

I'm not saying that canon Huey holds a grudge, or that he secretly resents his mom. I just think that out of all the triplets, he's who I'd pick as the most likely to do so. And unlike Louie and Dewey, Huey knows how to hide certain thoughts and feelings successfully. Huey can be anxious, but he can't be mean (he's already weird and nerdy, he can't afford to be mean). Huey has spent his entire life honing his control over his less...socially acceptable emotions. (Hello, Duke). If Huey has grudges about Della and the Spear or anyone and anything else, I have faith in his ability to hide those negative thoughts for a long, long time.

Until he can't.

[lazysublimeengineer]

you bring color to my monochrome world

Summary: Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

Characters:Takemichi H., Hinata T., Manjirou S.

“I wish you a kinder sea.”

— Emily Dickinson

i. I will protect you.

Takemichi was drowning.

He was drowning in the sea of doubt and hopelessness. What was he thinking? Going back to the future to undo every mistake that he did there and save Hina? He couldn’t even save himself from Kiyomasa’s punches and roundhouse kicks. He clenched his fists as he stared at the blinking street lights around the city that evening, ignoring the stares from the other people because of his mottled face and bruised body.

However, was it the right thing to do? To run away again? To struggle in vain and restart his stale life all over again?

He could feel his eyes started to water as he remembered Hina’s forthright yet breathtaking smile when she uttered those words at him in the midst of his own torment and wretchedness: I will protect you.

Her smile was the burst of psychedelic hues to Takemichi’s dull, greyscale life.

And he swore to himself that he won’t fail her this time around.

He would save her.

Even it could him his own sanity and life in the long run.

ii. The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!

The first time that Mikey saw Takemichi was when he was in the middle of an underground fight with Kiyomasa which was to be honest looked like a one-sided battle since the poor guy was being treated like a punching bag by his opponent.

He pursed his lips. Underground fights were stupid and he didn’t want to have the name of the Toman to be tainted by a useless slugfest like this. He was about to make his way there when he stopped midway upon hearing the young man’s speeches that was brimming with firmness and determination.

“The only way to win is to kill me! I definitely won’t lose!”

But the one that caught his full attention was his deep blue eyes shining with tenacity and valor. There were only few people around the world that possessed that kind of reckless yet admirable conviction.

He hadn’t seen that kind of eyes and fighting spirit since his late older brother.

That day he had made up his mind. He needed to have a buddy like Takemichi into his life.

He signaled for Draken to make their presence known when Kiyomasa was getting berserk and demanding for a bat.

The crowd went in complete, deathly silence as they presented themselves and was already beating up Kiyomasa after he succinctly made his existence well known in front of Takemichi.

“Takemitchy. See ya later.” He shot him a carefree grin before he turned away and left the place completely. The young man’s befuddled yet ingenuous expression was forever etched into his memory.

His candid, azure irises painted a sheer, rich texture of prismatic hues to Mikey’s void, insipid life.

iii. I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!

Hinata’s hand was trembling.

Nevertheless, she wouldn’t give these people the satisfaction of seeing the fear creeping up slowly within her. She knew that Takemichi was too trustful and forthright to a fault even though it’s also one of the reasons why she had fallen in love with him.

She just can’t stand there and watched the two delinquents domineered him into their own whims and wants whenever they wanted to. She promised Takemichi that she will protect him after all and she always held and fulfill her own promises.

However, she made a mistake of thinking naively that they can get away unscathed after she pulled out a brave yet foolish stunt of slapping the blond right in front of the class. She tried not to shake as she felt a hand gripped her wrist and heard the threat of the tall male with braided locks that made her swallow thickly.

“Hey. Do you want me to kill you, bitch?”

She heard more words and threats that came out of his mouth before she decided to respond and gave him a piece of her mind. Takemichi was always bruised, crestfallen and lost every time she saw him dropping by her flat. She had enough of these people dictating and treating him like their own slaves. Even if this will put her in a risky situation, she will defend and protect the man she loves.

She was now ready for the consequences of her actions but she was taken aback when Takemichi’s hand gripped the tall male’s shoulder firmly and demanded him to let her go. No. No. No. No. She didn’t want Takemichi to suffer and take the brunt of her actions. If she had to intervene again to save him, then she will have to do it even if it could cost this her own life.

She was about to speak again when Takemichi’s next words made her eyes widened briefly and rooted her to the spot.

“I ain’t gonna give her up ever again!”

It was stated with raw conviction and firm temerity that she had to double take and stared up at him with wide eyes that was brimming with amazement and concern for his well-being now that he challenged the two delinquents in front of them.

‘Takemichi-kun…’ Hinata restrained a gasp as she observed Takemichi in silence. It was like seeing another facet of him that was different from what she used to see. But she liked his tenacity and firmness. He may be a crybaby and wore his heart on his sleeve but she knew that his heart was in the right place.

After a troublesome misunderstanding later and apologies pouring from her lips, she waved goodbye to Takemichi and let him hang out with his newfound friends.

His loyalty and conviction brought out a multitude of colors to Hinata’s sepia life.

And she could never get tired of loving him.

iv. That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.

Mikey stared at the horizon in front of them with a serene smile on his face.

Takemichi observed him from a few distances away, looking at the quiescent male who was sitting on the grass. Draken was also standing a few meters away from them, sporting an unflappable expression on his face.

From what he observed so far, Mikey was a delinquent but he was not a bad guy. He was simply a person who possessed some radical beliefs on his own and translated it into his actions that may be questionable to other people due to his carefree yet strong personality and straightforward manner of speaking.

He had also noted some odd yet interesting behavior from the gang leader himself. Even though he’s mostly laid back and insouciant he had a habit of flipping a switch to his moods seamlessly, revealing a hidden cold anger and ruthless nature from within as he had witnessed on how he just beat up Kiyomasa like it was nothing.

There was a saying that the eyes were the mirror to the soul.

But when he looked at Mikey’s onyx eyes it was a bottomless pit of nothingness. Devoid of any emotion and was a vacuum of an empty black hole. He remembered how he stared down at Kiyomasa like he was nothing more than a pathetic insect under his palm that’s waiting to be crush. And how Mikey’s eyes almost suck the life out of him earlier in that tense situation with Hina, almost resigning himself for the inevitable punch that would come from his hands only to be tricked and playfully derided by him that he’s a dummy and he doesn’t hit girls.

Hence, he had reached a conclusion that Mikey was hard to understand and read his intentions sometimes.

However, one thing was for sure: Mikey was not a bad person and he’d be willing to help and save him alongside with Hina to prevent them from meeting their miserable future and demise.

He just had to convince Naoto to get to the bottom of the problem and find out the reason why Mikey turned out the way he was in the future.

“That’s why I’m going to create an era for delinquents.”

The gang leader didn’t need to convince him twice when he asked him to join his gang after he shared his goal and vision to him. Just looking at his charismatic smile and earnestness, Takemichi knew that he was drawn in. Hook. Line. And sinker.

v. You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.

He stood up but he was still looking at the horizon when he finally revealed his vision and intentions to him, uttering his name correctly for the first time.

“You should come with me. I like your guts. Hanagaki Takemichi.”

Mikey couldn’t picture out his exact reaction to his words but he could already surmised the genuine astonishment and wonder that was written on his clear blue eyes. Then the seriousness and determination that would crossed his face afterwards.

That’s the kind of guy Takemichi was. Honest, sincere, determined yet reckless sometimes when it came to defending his beliefs and the people that he mostly cares about. It’s easy to read him. Just dropped a verbal bomb in front of him and he’ll be getting a multitude of interesting expressions from his face.

…and there were times that he isn’t.

He had seen how Takemichi would be like an open book but with hidden pages that was not visible to the naked eye. Takemichi wasn’t a liar yet he was a secretive person as well. He cannot forget his initial reaction when he asked him casually if he’s really a middle schooler in that school. It was an unguarded moment for the young lad and he had a look that screamed of panic and anxiousness.

Interesting.

Even though Takemichi was an emotionally expressive person and vocal about what he believed was right and wrong, he still couldn’t decipher what his real purpose was. All he knew as of the moment was, he was too protective of his girlfriend Hinata who gave him an amazing slap earlier.

He was willing to defend and fight for her even against to the people like them.

What a reckless guy. But he guessed that was a part of Takemichi’s own charm. He couldn’t help but to be intrigue by this person who possessed those electrifying sky-blue irises and a sheer will determination.

‘Hinata huh? What a lucky gal…’ Mikey thought as he gazed at Takemichi’s profile.

For now, he could only basked in the vibrancy and vivid hues of Takemichi’s presence, coloring his monochromatic world with the promises of hope for the future.

(A/N: I don’t own Tokyo Revengers and any of the characters from this franchise. Inspired by the scenes that shows the relationship and interactions of Takemichi with Hinata and Mikey. I believed in Takemikeyhina supremacy but I lived for some drizzle of angst and pining hence the end results of this one shot. Apologies in advance for some grammatical errors and if some of them are OOC as English is not my native language and I’ve tried my best to keep them in character. Reviews are amusing hence I look forward to hear them from you).

[flourgirl]

When The Party’s Over

Part II to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn x Reader

Summary: The closer that Peter gets to Gwen, the more he realizes how irreplaceable you are to him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: A few curse words here and there.

A/N: There’s going to be a third and final part to this story, so if you’d like to be tagged in it, please shoot me an ask or a reply and I’ll gladly add you to the tag list. Hope you guys enjoy this new part and happy reading :-)

“Counted all my mistakes and there's only one Standing out from the list of the things I've done All the rest of my crimes don't come close To the look on your face when I let you go” -Where Do Broken Hearts Go, One Direction

It had been 17 days since you had last seen Peter and all you could do was sit in your favorite coffee shop and stare at all the muffins in the case. Peter loved muffins. His favorite flavor was banana nut, and usually the two of you would jam out to all of your favorite songs while you waited for them to come out of the oven.

“Y/N,” Betty said, snapping you out of your daze, “Are you alright? You’ve been staring at the pastries for, like, five minutes.”

MJ put down whatever book she had decided to read this week. “Yeah, if you want one, go for it. You deserve it. Here, I’ll pay.” 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded up $10 bill, dropping it onto the table in front of you, and returned to her book.

“You could get a slice of cheesecake,” Betty suggested. “I know how much you like the raspberry one from here.”

But all you could think about was how you wished Peter loved you the way that he loved those stupid banana nut muffins.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, crossing your arms and closing your eyes to take in the soft jazz music that was playing alongside the chatter of the café. “But I’m keeping the ten bucks.”

“Maybe it would help take your mind off of things if you met someone new,” MJ suggested without even looking up at you. It was honestly amazing how she could carry on a conversation while still being so engrossed in her book.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Betty agreed, “You’re so smart, and pretty, and you made all of the baked goods currently taking up lots of precious space in our kitchen.”

“You’re a stress baker,” MJ added. She was right. Over the past two and a half weeks since that night, you had baked three cakes, four pies, and seven different kinds of bread. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night you tried out the new focaccia recipe you had been eyeing.

“I don’t know, guys,” you said, slinking further down into your chair. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

“That’s okay,” Betty reassured you. “Take all the time you need. But we’re here for you, Y/N.”

And that’s how the rest of that day went. Lots of suggestions on ways to stop thinking about Peter and you shooting them down. No matter how Betty and MJ tried to make you feel better, your mind was stuck on the nine voicemails and thirty-two texts he had sent you saying how he was sorry for whatever he did and how he just wanted things to be normal again.

Except you didn’t want normal. You wanted him. You wanted his bad puns and the way his sweaters smelled when he let you borrow one. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know what he did wrong. He didn’t know that he had broken your heart.

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

It wasn’t like Peter didn’t like Gwen. She was outgoing and confident, and he liked how it felt like she was always the center of attention. People wanted to talk to her, or sit next to her, or even have her know that they existed.

But she wasn’t anything like you, and the more time that Peter spent with her, the more apparent that became. She didn’t rant about reality TV or get so overwhelmed during public speaking assignments that the only way she could calm down was with a hug from him. In many ways, she was perfect. Except for the fact that she wasn’t you.

“We’re still on for Flash’s party on Saturday, right?” Gwen asked as she walked with Peter out of the lecture hall where they learned about vascular mechanics.

Honestly, Peter hadn’t even remembered that she had asked him to go to that until she brought it up just now. He was too stressed out wondering whether or not you’d ever speak to him again. 

But what did he do to make you upset? He had promised that if you wanted to leave the party, you could tell him and the two of you would go. Except you never said anything. You just got up and left, without even saying goodbye. You hated him and it killed him to not know why.

Despite this, he wanted to be the good guy and not disappoint any more people, and so he took Gwen’s hand in his and said, “Yeah, definitely. I’ll be there.”

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

If someone had told you that you’d run into Harry Osborn in the middle of Arthur Avenue, you’d say they were crazy. And if that same someone said that you’d ask him on a date, they’d be even crazier. But somehow, some way, that’s exactly what happened.

You were on the way to interview a third-generation restaurant owner for your Italian class. You had never been very good at foreign languages, but you would use any excuse to take a trip to Little Italy. The nervous knots in your stomach from the possibility that they would only speak in a dialect that you couldn’t understand was worth it, because this little nook of the city was home to the best arancini in all of America.

To be honest, it seemed unbelievable that he’d be there, at that exact time, in that exact place to where you’d run right into him. You had been too busy reviewing the notes you had taken during the interview to see that you were on a direct path towards face planting into his torso.

“Fuck,” you grumbled, staring down at your notes scattered on the sidewalk at your feet. The guy you had just ran into kneeled down to gather them into a neat stack, handing them back to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, which caught you off guard. Who the hell was this? It wasn’t until you stared at his face for a few seconds that you recognized him. That guy that Gwen was with at the party. He looked a lot different in his button down and khakis compared to the sweatshirt and baseball cap he had on when you had first met him.

“Uh, hi. You’re Gwen’s friend, right? Henry.” You knew his name. You just didn’t plan on letting that you knew it.

“Yeah, but it’s Harry. Sorry about that, by the way. So, anyway, what brings you all the way down to Little Italy? It’s pretty far from campus,” he told you, as if you didn’t know that. I mean, you had walked all the way here, hadn’t you?

You shrugged, looking away from him. “I guess I could ask you the same thing.”

It was the first time in a while that someone wasn’t fawning over him just because he was rich. Honestly, it was really refreshing. “I asked first,” he noted, mimicking your crossed arms with a smirk.

Who does this guy think he is? 

“Listen,” you sighed. “I really don’t have time for this. I need to get back to my apartment and finish up writing this essay that’s due at midnight.”

“So you’re taking Italian, I presume?” he asked, it suddenly becoming quite clear as to what you were doing on the other side of the city.

“Yeah. And let me guess, you were eating brunch at some fancy, expensive restaurant that your dad owns, drinking some $100 bottle of wine while some nerd you pay does your homework, huh?”

“No,” he laughed. “I was helping put together Thanksgiving dinner baskets for underprivileged families down at the soup kitchen.”

It was only then that you noticed how annoyingly handsome he was. Essentially, he was the male version of Gwen. Same blonde hair and preppy style that just screamed “I have a trust fund.”

“Of course. What, did you need a good photo op ever since the Daily Bugle ran that issue where they called you a spoiled playboy who loves to party?”

You had no intentions of entertaining him, especially since he was a friend of Gwen’s. The girl that had kissed Peter right in front of you, and pretended like she couldn’t remember your name. The girl that Peter was probably with right now.

“I’m not going to pretend like that wasn’t part of it, but believe it or not, I’m not actually as big of a selfish asshole as the papers make me out to be.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, I can tell by the cashmere sweater vest and leather loafers that you’re wearing that you’re so down to earth.”

There was an awkward silence, and Harry decided to change the subject before he pissed you off even more. But what he chose to mention next was the one thing on the planet that you didn’t want to talk about.

“So, uh, I guess your friend Peter is with Gwen now,” he started, which had somehow managed to make you dislike him even more than you already did. Sure, there was no way for him to know how you felt about the whole situation, but it still pained you to think about how you had become an afterthought to who you thought was the guy who would always have your back.

You blinked back at him, frowning. “Yeah, I guess so,” you muttered. And then there was another awkward silence.

“Well, I’ll let you go now. It’s obvious I’m taking up some very precious time in your day,” he said, offering a weak smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other around campus.” 

It suddenly dawned on you that you might have been just a little too hard on him. He seemed nice enough, even if you weren’t a big fan of the company he kept. Before you could even really think about it, you called out, “Wait!” and walked over to meet him when he had turned around.

“I’m sorry,” you admitted, nervously toying with the hem of your sweater. “I’m just in a really bad mood.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, although he wasn’t quite as confident as when the two of you had started your conversation. “We all have bad days. I hope yours gets better.”

“It could, if you’d let me buy you a coffee,” you said, genuinely smiling for the first time in a while. Sure, it was nice to think that Peter would probably be upset once he heard that you had asked someone out and he knew nothing about it, but a small part of you was asking just because Harry Osborn seemed like the kind of guy you’d like to have around.

“Sure,” he answered back, running a hand through his hair, which seemed to be in a perpetually perfect messy-but-not-too-messy state. “Have you ever been to Hungry Ghost in Brooklyn?”

Your eyes lit up. “That’s actually my favorite café! They have this really awesome grand piano in the middle of the room, and every Friday they have an open mic where anybody can sign up to play it.”

Your enthusiasm honestly surprised you. It was nice to have something to talk about that didn’t somehow involve Peter.

“Actually, I’m signed up to play tomorrow night,” Harry told you, “Do you like jazz?”

It almost seemed too good to be true. You loved jazz. “Definitely,” you confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Alright, cool. Let’s make a deal. I’ll let you buy me a coffee if you come watch me play tomorrow night.”

“Deal,” you agreed, before turning back towards your apartment, all giddy with excitement to tell MJ and Betty about what had just happened.

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

“You probably didn’t know this, but Y/N’s been hanging out with Harry Osborn,” Ned said, walking into the common room wearing his “special” Hawaiian shirt, which Peter knew meant he was going someplace fancy. “They’re kind of dating.”

Peter looked up immediately from his linear algebra homework. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach about what Ned had just revealed, but he didn’t know why. He was with Gwen, and if you wanted to date Harry Osborn, then you could. But still, he found himself being just a little bit jealous that some other guy was filling in for him.

“Oh,” Peter said, looking back down at his homework. He couldn’t focus anymore, so he just shut the notebook and threw it from where he was sitting on the top bunk onto his desk. “How long has that been going on?”

“Two days now, but they’ve been spending every minute together since. Betty said that they bumped into each other on the street and she just asked him on a date out of nowhere,” he replied, tying his shoes to go meet his girlfriend for date night. “I just thought I’d let you know, in case you saw them when you were out and got mad at me for keeping it from you.”

“Thanks, dude,” Peter sighed, lying on his back, “You’re a good friend.”

“I know. Anytime, man. Now I gotta go. M’lady awaits,” he said. Peter didn’t even have to look to know that his roommate had just tipped his imaginary fedora.

Harry Osborn wasn’t even your type, Peter thought. You didn’t like guys as “pretty” as him, and you had always been more into brown eyes, not blue. So what was the appeal? His trust fund? Peter knew that you weren’t that shallow. It was just that, well, he couldn’t imagine you falling for someone like that.

You’re with Gwen, Peter kept reminding himself. So many guys would kill to be in your place. It wasn’t until he checked the time that he realized that he was actually about 20 minutes late to meeting her for the party. The stupid party at Flash Thompson’s tacky apartment that he didn’t even want to go to in the first place.

It was an understatement to say that Gwen was pissed when Peter knocked on her front door over half an hour late to the time they had agreed upon.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting,” she complained, smoothing out her sparkly silver dress that caught the light just right when she moved.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed, grabbing her hand as they walked down the street. “Uh, I guess I just lost track of time.”

“Whatever,” Gwen said, “Just don’t let it happen again.”

When they finally arrived at the party, the bowls of potato chips and mini pretzels were nearly empty. The floor was sticky, and Old Town Road boomed from the speakers in the living room. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Peter told Gwen, leaving her to greet all of her friends that had been waiting for her to show up. 

As Peter wandered towards the keg, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Harry, and all the things that he didn’t know about your newfound relationship with some guy you had just met. He still didn’t know why he was so upset about it. He should be happy you had found someone you liked. In high school, all you ever talked about was finding the perfect guy, and if that was Harry Osborn, who was Peter to make a fuss about it?

But that didn’t stop Peter from filling up his plastic cup more times than he should’ve that night. It wasn’t until he was being dragged back to his dorm room by Gwen after puking on Flash’s couch that he realized what was wrong. He wanted to be that guy. The one who got to hold your hand and cuddle with you during scary movies. The one that got to love you and be loved by you.

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

Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn

P.S.: Sorry to all the people I forgot to tag on this one! I didn’t know that when you answer asks privately, they go away from your inbox. Please shoot me another ask or reply to this post so I don’t miss you again!

[blackwoolncrown]

It's so weird how average yt middle class americans are not only against meat from "weird" animals like goat, but also extremely against any meat that isn't muscle meat i.e. offal/organ meat. Foods like haggis are mocked not because the people mocking it have ever actually tried it, but because they automatically assume "heart/liver/lungs/stomach GROSS". People even project this onto their cats and dogs with the extreme hatred of "by-products" and the fact that organ meats in pet food legally have to be labeled that in the first place. It's so entitled and wasteful to demand 100% muscle meat and treat everything else as disgusting or inedible.

That's bc they're settlers and settler culture is oriented around pretending to be petty royalty. Their original countries sucked but instead of realizing they sucked bc monarchies sucked they vowed to be their own monarchs in a ~free 'new' land~ which is also why we have lawns (something only castles had bc it's a huge flex to 'have' land but not farm it) and all kinds of stupid consumerist bullshit to show off 'wealth'.

Rich people can afford to disrespect animal death by eating only ~specific parts~ of an animal and getting rid of the rest. They can afford to be ~gourmands~ who think that an exclusivity of ingredients is quite fine (rather than the ability to make a great meal out of anything, including offal ((which tbh actually tastes quite good usually)) ).

I've never EVER understood the mockery of haggis but fwiw I have Scottish ancestry so maybe that's built in. But there are plenty of other foods ppl keep acting like are inherently gross, like blood sausage or whatever, meanwhile they'll eat nothing but like 2 muscles out of the same 2 animals up to 3 times a day all year.

I'm primarily vegetarian but tbh I wish ther was a word for this but my actual diet is this: I eat mostly plants bc that's all I need usually, I will eat SOME seafood, usually very small fish and shellfish bc that's sustainable (again w meat culture, ppl who eat 'seafood' are usually eating like, large haul fish which is wildly unsustainable and then they don't even eat the head) and, on occasion goat/game meat ONLY.

I'm gonna be honest chicken and beef don't even taste that great. And to your point the same ppl who don't like organ meat or 'weird' meat also often don't like game meat when it's the only meat w flavor. It's totally bc of their cultural association, they think the bland shit they're eating is 'good' and anything different is 'bad'. Game meat and offal are way, way more nutritious and historically cultures who ate meat but didn't see a bunch of the health problems associated w meat experienced that bc eating muscle meat ONLY will throw off fatty acid levels like woah. Animals are not comprised of only muscle meat for a reason.

If you're going to eat an animal be respectful and eat the whole thing. If you don't like it, then you don't actually like meat all that much tbh you're just used to it and maybe you should take a break and explore other foods.

It's incredibly entitled and barbaric tbh. It's basically like going around and trophy hunting animals- they die so you can eat a small portion of their body, and you disregard the rest despite the sacrifice being made ~because you don't like the taste as much~.

Petty wannabe monarchs.

[toastedside]

Valentine Blurbs

Batboys (+ Bruce) Valentine Blurbs.

Note: Happy valentine! It’s a month full of love, meaning I can find reason and indulge myself in these fic while pouring my heart for my boys. I hope you find the warmth of love and a little bit of happiness in this.

Prompt: Different ways to say I love you.

Bruce – “I’d rather just hang out with you, if I am honest.”

The ballroom was lavish, gold and black glittered around the room like a prideful emperor march around the city. It was filled with people dressed like they’re going to flaunt everything they have in their pocket, polite laughter and chatter mixed together in the air. You smiled politely as you tried your best to follow Mrs. Harris’s conversation about whatever it is about the latest gossips of the Gotham Elite. She’s an old lady that never learn how to stick her nose into where it belongs, and you hate to admit that some of her stories are indeed interesting.

Champagne on your hand was half empty, and your feet started to get hurt from standing too long. Even after a long way of attending galas and rich parties alike, you’d never get used to it. Maybe you get better at it, sure, but galas are suffocating and painfully exhausting.

You excused yourself after finishing your champagne, eyes darted around to find a slightest sight of your husband. It no longer surprised you, or anyone really, that he had a knack to slip away undetected from this kind of event. You walked through the empty and dark hallways, knowing exactly where he would be as your feet brought you into the balcony.

“I believe we have guests and party to attend, Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him as you inhaled the cold breeze. It was a welcomed change from the suffocating ballroom.

You saw Bruce’s lips twisted upwards. His hand stretched out in a silent invitation for you to join him, in which you gratefully accepted. “I’d rather just hang out with you, if I am honest.”

“It’s an important one. We worked days and night for this.”

“There’s no way to convince you to sneak out from this party, no?” he raised an eyebrow. You wanted nothing but to scowl at him for able to read you like an open book.

“If we go back a little while for ten minutes top, you’d get to hang out with me alone for the rest of the night.”

Bruce smiled. So wide and bright that you were sure the moon above was ashamed of his smile alone. He pulled you gently closer to him, planted a soft kiss into your hairline as he muttered, “Sounds good to me.”

Dick – “I dreamt about you last night.”

Dick pressed his phone lazily into his ear. His eyes still closed as he battling away the drowsiness that kept pulling him in and out of sleep. He could feel the sunlight slowly seeped into his room through the blinds as he listened patiently to the monotone ring on his phone.

“Hello?” you answered after the fifth ring. He figured you’d be out for work by now, but he couldn’t risk to wait for another minute. He smiled as soon as your voice blessed his ear.

“Hey babe,” he greeted. Voice still thick with sleep. “I dreamt about you last night.”

He could hear your breathless chuckle, as if the air had been sucked out of your lungs out of surprise. His lips involuntarily tilted upwards upon hearing your chuckle. Dick reckoned it’s a muscle memory at this point that the corner of his mouth would immediately turn upwards at the sound of your laughter.

“Oh yeah? What was it about?” you asked. Dick could hear the wide smile on your face. He closed his eyes and the image of you smiling with raised eyebrows popped inside his brain.

“You.”

“Hmm, I hope it was a nice one.”

“It was!” he said as he sat up on his bed. Suddenly felt more awake as his brain wrecked hard to replayed the pleasant dream he had. “I slept good and happy. Thanks to you.”

Jason – “I did the dishes.”

Truth to be told, you didn’t know what to expect. You hadn’t had any particular expectation upon how your day would end up be like. The exam waiting for you in two days and endless list of deadlines had been the only thought that plagued your mind. Eating you alive as you tried to hold into the strands of sanity you had left.

You didn’t expect Jason to show up, standing in your kitchen with a sheepish smile as he said, “I did the dishes.”

To think about it, you just realize you haven’t seen him in three days.

You blinked at him. Brain still unable to process the event displayed in front of you. You had come out from your room and head to the kitchen to grab an ice cream. Instead, you found a tall man stood in front of your kitchen sink and your three-days’ worth of dirty dishes done. All squeaky clean and neatly tucked in the cabinet.

“Why?” was the only thing your exhausted brain managed to muster.

Jason shrugged. “I know your study can be overwhelming. Especially since exam week is coming.”

Suddenly, the thought of him filled your brain to the brim. There was no such room for words. Only overflowing thought of him and the feelings you harboured in your chest. Jason stared at you alarmingly, his eyes wide.

“I am sorry,” his voice was above whisper. “Did I upset you?”

You shook your head as you let out a wet chuckle. You hadn’t realized you had been crying. There’s no other place you’d rather be than his arms right now, so you headed straight away into your desired destination. You felt Jason relaxed underneath your touch, and you felt him smile as you captured his lips as you wordlessly said thank you.

Tim – “It reminds me of you.”

No, he had no reason. His eyes merely caught the glimpse of periwinkle and baby’s breath on his way for photo hunting. So bright and pure underneath the sunlight, tucked in the middle of concrete jungle. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert, bright and cheery and inviting. Almost looking like it was out of place.

Tim had subconsciously walked himself towards the flower shop. His camera in his hand, eyes staring straight into the periwinkle and baby’s breath placed next to one another. He couldn’t understand why he had held his breath upon such a mundane sight.

Flowers in a flower shop. Yet it was the most mesmerizing sight he had seen all day.

“What’s the occasion?” you let out a surprised laugh as he showed up and presented a bouquet of periwinkle and baby’s breath.

Tim pressed his lips together. He couldn’t put the dots on why he did what he did. Surprisingly enough he was content with the gnawing fact he had act on his impulse to bought you a bouquet of flowers. It was mesmerizing, beautiful, and he was left in stunned silence upon seeing it for the first time.

You looked up from your present to meet his eyes. A smile still persistently painted across your face. Tim sucked a breath in and held it altogether. Beautiful, he silently thought to himself, almost like it strung out of nowhere. A beauty in a such misshaped place his room is.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning in the daylight. He smiled as he shook his head. He knew he wasn’t the most romantic boyfriend in the whole world, but he would be dammed not to let you know.

“Nothing. It reminds me of you.”

Duke – “Call me when you get home.”

You watched him pouting from the doorframe. You had to physically restrain yourself from pulling him into your embrace and smoothen out the pout on his lips. But knowing Duke, that probably would end up cost you another hour of him clinging into your side.

Duke watched you with arms folded in front of his chest. He looked so mesmerizing underneath the twilight. The sky above was a hue of orange and pink, a hint of black appeared on the line of horizon. Yet your eyes locked into his.

“Stop pouting!” you reprimanded him with a laugh. “You’ve hogged my attention for two days.”

“You’re absolutely mental if you think it was enough.”

“I have my own apartment,” you pointed out, “that I need to occasionally visit and clean.”

Duke knew it was true. He always knew when to back out and when to stood on his feet from an argument with you. Something he had learned fairly fast and well enough. You watched him shook his head with a smile.

“Come here,” he said as he spread his arms. “Give me one last kiss before you go.”

You complied with rolled eyes. His embrace was warm and inviting, you almost not want to let go. He leaned closer to capture your lips and you met him halfway. It was a quick and short one, left you wanting for more.

“Call me when you get home.”

Damian – “I hope you like it.”

Damian clutched a small canvas to his side. He frowned at the sensation of his heart thump inside his ribcage painfully. The sound of loud chatter of his classmates had been drowned by the ringing on his ear. His fingertips felt uncharacteristically cold. Was it the air conditioner?

He let out a quiet sigh. Was it the symptom of flu? Did he accidentally got exposed to a poison during his patrol? He was pretty sure he was fine in the morning. Days before that as well. So, what’s with the pounding heart?

His eyes darted around the packed hallway; mouth pressed together as he silently muttering your name. It was a tedious and hard job to find a person in a packed crowd, let alone a bunch of loud students on a break in a school hallway.

“Damian, hey!” it was you who had spotted him at first. Looked around like a lost and kicked puppy in the middle of a bustling city.

It has always been a funny thing between you two that he hadn’t understand. For some reason, you always had a knack to spot him in a bustling crowd when he hadn’t able to spot you. One thing that escalated almost immediately as soon as friendship blossomed between you and him. He approached you silently, the coldness on the tip of his finger had spread throughout his arms.

“I made you this,” he said as he discreetly shoved a small canvas into your hand. It was a beautiful painting of Alfred’s rose bushes in the garden. He had vaguely recalled you nonchalantly said wanting to see a rose bush in person. “I hope you like it.”

Damian immediately walked away towards his next class before you had a chance to speak. He knew eventually he had to talk about his painting and let you properly said thank you. But for now he would need to find a place to tame his erratic heart and his cold fingers.

[mcheang]

Adrien’s Enemy: A new boy arrives at school who starts bullying Adrien. He insults him, pushes him around, tries to frame him as a bad guy. He even tries to come between Marinette and Adrien so he can date her, much like Lila & Chloé do. Adrien learns a lesson about what’s its like to be bullied and the importance of standing up to bullies outside his mask

Tommy Ange

This is a draft as I am still not sure about this story, but I like the idea of Adrien taking charge of his future

Meet the new classmate. The son of an actor and model. As such, yes, he is beautiful and rich and well-connected.

On first impressions, Tommy is charming and modest. He doesn’t boast. People know of his connections because Mylene was a fan of his father’s work and had noted his son at the airport.

Anyway, Tommy is currently staying with his mother while his dad travels for a movie shoot.

Because of his shyness, he doesn’t warm up to the likes of Lila or Chloé, who definitely won’t stop talking his ear off or learn the meaning of personal space.

Instead he gravitates towards warm and sweet Marinette. While Marinette is a fan of fashion, she never asks him stuff about his mother’s work. To be fair she never asks Adrien either.

But when alone with Adrien, Tommy is cold and brusque. He isn’t interested in being friends with a “doormat” and “sycophant” (this insult belongs to Lila actually). Tommy can’t stand 2-faced people. To him, there is no gray area. No middle ground. And Adrien’s desire to maintain peace with all his friends, despite the obvious tension with Chloé, was annoying. At least Chloé was honest about who she hated. But for the likes of Adrien and Lila, where they stood was not clear to Tommy.

You see, Tommy dislikes overt friendliness. Used to people wanting to use him to meet his parents. Too much kindness seems fake to him.

Adrien is sad Tommy dislikes him. He tries to appease the new student. Even if that means accepting Tommy’s reminders that he can’t hang out, he has a shoot; and yes, he hasn’t hung out with Chloé in a while, he should visit her; and sure, Adrien will gladly swap partners with Tommy.

Ok, part of the reason Tommy dislikes Adrien is because he knows Marinette likes Adrien. But the blind boy doesn’t see that and instead asks for Mari to just ignore Chloé’s insults and Lila’s lies. To take the higher road. What nonsense is that?

Tommy hopes that in pushing Adrien towards the 2 girls she can’t stand, all the while sympathising beside her will get Marinette to like him.

Honestly, he would have succeeded if Adrien didn’t have Plagg.

Plagg: why are you letting that devil push you around? Now you’re stuck with that Liar for a stupid project.

Adrien: but he’s nicer to me now.

Plagg: you’re just proving him right that you are a doormat. You want everybody to like you when that is an impossible task.

Adrien: no it is not!

Plagg: when was the last time you hung out with your friends...outside class?

Adrien: ....

Plagg: he’s isolating you from your friends. And you’re letting it happen. They’re already wondering how you can tolerate Chloé after seeing her insult them. Old childhood reasoning can only go so far. You need to stand up to the devil and tell your friends what he’s been trying to do.

Adrien: but he isn’t hurting me.

Plagg: you’re stuck with a girl who constantly harasses you for the semester! And for crying out loud, report on her behavior too before I bite her and give her a curse.

Adrien: Plagg, you know what will happen if my dad hears about this. He’s working with Lila and Mrs Ange now. I can’t cause trouble or I’ll get pulled out of school.

Plagg: what’s so good about school now? You’re only ever around whiny bee and the liar. And soon enough, they’ll be your only friends if Devil boy gets his way.

That was an unpleasant thought but Adrien stubbornly stood by his belief.

Plagg sighed. “Ok, let’s try a different scenario. Say Ladybug decided to give Tommy a Miraculous and he starts trying to shove you out of the picture, what are you going to do?”

Adrien: please, I’m Ladybug’s partner, she would never abandon me.

Plagg: so you would let him flirt with your Lady?

Pause. Cats are very territorial!

Adrien bared his teeth. “Not a chance!”

Plagg: why can’t you be this assertive outside the mask?

Adrien: i have a controlling parent!

Plagg: then stand up to him. Are you going to let your father dictate you for the rest of your life? Cos at this rate, you’ll still be living under the same roof when you’ve graduated and have a job, probably as a model.

Adrien paused. He doesn’t hate modelling but he doesn’t want that to be life career! Plagg was right. He needed to grow up, run his own life.

Adrien: you’re right Plagg!

Plagg: of course I am. Do I get extra Camembert as a reward?

Adrien: no. But I’ll give you a show.

Adrien actually went to Nathalie to inform her he will be quitting modelling once he graduated Dupont. He will finish then based on his contract but will not sign another one. Second, he’s taking a break from modelling for a while. If his father complains, he quits piano and will complain to his fans. Wayhem is already psyched for a public outcry.

Next, Adrien visits Nino, Alya and Marinette to tell them the truth about Tommy. And this is where he apologizes to Marinette for his stupid advice. (Adrien did ask Plagg why he never protested this advice but Plagg lazily responded she wasn’t his kitten <but Tikki’s bug>)

Alya is shocked and wants to confront Tommy. She plans to expose him and Lila in front of the whole class. Adrien puts his foot down at that. It would be mean.

Alya sighs. “Fine. It will be a quiet exposure. I’ll text the class the truth about Lila and-“

Marinette interrupted, “I want to hear what Tommy has to say.”

Marinette visited Tommy and asked him for his side of things. Tommy truthfully admitted he disliked Adrien for being the go-between. To him it was a sign of not really having the back of his friends. And Tommy just hates superficial friends.

Marinette: i understand. But you were still wrong to try to separate Adrien from us.

Tommy shrugged. Every time he saw Adrien, he was disgusted by that ridiculous optimism that everyone would get along if they played nice.

Marinette: don’t judge a book by its cover. Adrien has had difficulty standing up to his father. He likes to give people second chances.

Tommy: a lot of them.

Marinette: the point is, what you’re doing is wrong. And you can either settle your differences with Adrien, or we’re not friends anymore. Because in your opinion, I have to pick a side.

Tommy reluctantly chooses his friends. After that, while he ignores Adrien, he doesn’t try to shove him away anymore.

Plagg congratulated his chosen for taking this step. “Now let’s inform the class that Lila needs a lesson on personal space.”