#dresses nice? *but only because he can pay people to design his clothing. that's also not really a personality trait.

[kwillow]

I ask this as an Ambroys appreciator, but I genuinely need to know: Does our boy have any redeeming qualities?

...Yeah. Not really.

Ambroys is, for me, a fun exercise in making a character who is basically nothing but flaws. And they aren't even the "good" flaws.

He's not one of those "hates the world but fights to the death for his loved ones" types; he will throw his loved ones under bus to look good for strangers, who he also doesn't respect. He's not "an asshole but he owns it" because he will bend to other people's wills to try to appease them while continuing to be an asshole behind their backs. He's manipulative but not because he's a clever chess-master, he's just audacious and shameless enough to lie and guilt-trip people without remorse. He's too ignorant to be sophisticated but too educated to be naive. He can fight well enough, but he doesn't seek out worthy foes, only weaker enemies he can easily grind into the dirt for a cheap thrill. He's a coward. He's lazy. He doesn't "get" art. He has no convictions. He sucks!

But I think the fun with Ambroys is that he's such a worthless person, but he so, so desperately wants to be admired and praised and just liked. So he has to engage in this dance of maintaining a good public face over the void of his personality, where he tries to appeal to people while also being able to indulge his vices, because he doesn't believe anything he does or thinks is wrong... just unpopular. But being unpopular is worse than being wrong.

[yurislilygarden]

Hello~ Long time no see, ✨️Inspired Anon returns✨️

I said I had ideas for the 3Vees in the Self Aware Au, but kinda forgot that I never sent them. But~ I had an iron clad memory when it comes to these things so if you want them, here they are~

For starters, all the Vees are aware of the Reader, but I'll leave their reactions to finding out that they're in a show to you.

Starting with Valentino. Val both loves and hates Reader, he loves that this little butterfly spends time in his office and 'oversees' some of his filming but hates that he never gets any reaction that he wants and that frustrates him to no end. Val tries to show Reader his films, his scripts, he even tried getting his workers to put on a 'private show' for Reader but Reader only ever seemed interested in following Angel the majority of the time.

Like, Val gets it, Angels nice eye candy, but he has so much more to offer than just his star!

Why does Val want Readers approval so much? Because he's convinced that every time Readers little butterfly appears during him writing a new script or filming his latest movie, it becomes a massive success. If he can find a way to monopolise Readers attention, then maybe he could make them view even more of his work in progresses and they'd become successes too!

It's purely placebo on his part, and the other Vees tell him that and show him the statistics to prove that there is no real difference in profit between work Reader viewed and work they haven't, but he's too deep in this rabbit hole to get back out.

Yes, Val might think he can use Reader as an infinite success glitch.

He's also not opposed to banging their butterfly form and gets major butthurt when they 'turn down his advances'. He'll keep trying because 'they haven't said no'... bitch, of course they hate said no, THEY HAVEN'T SAID ANYTHING! He's trying to figure out the logistics of how it would work and the other Vee mysteriously always have important work to do when he tries to bounce ideas off of them

Velvette is indifferent to Reader. They don't respond to her both on and offline, so they're a bit of a non factor to her. She has tried getting more of their attention when they fluttered around the studio (mainly following Angel), by dropping hint at making clothing inspired by their butterfly form, but stormed off in a huff at the lack of response. So now she is #OverThem.

However, Vel isn't one to be ignored. She likes to keep tabs on Reader, even made it into a little game with the Voxigram tag #ButterflySpotted where people upload candid pics of Reader around town. If they are genuine pics of Reader, she pays the uploader... in exposure.

She also does still have that butterfly themed dress line tucked away, she tweaks the design ever now and then. It will be her most expensive dress line released once Reader finally acknowledges her, but she miiight give Reader something for free if they admit she's their favourite Vee, preferably in front of the other Vees.

Vox is obsessed with Reader, almost to the same extent as his obsession with Alastor but for different reasons. However, he's not as oblivious as the others when it comes to Reader.

Vox recognises that Reader is listening and not replying instead of blatantly ignoring him, which has led to Vox following Reader (off camera) and venting about everything and anything. This might lead to some form of unhealthy attachment to Reader, but at least he isn't trying to get in Readers butterfly's pants like Val... unless...

Vox also openly admits to designing new drones based on them and has definitely told Reader about them, too. Reader didn't reply, but he knows they're listening.

Vox is also aware of the Reader hanging around the Hotel crew. He doesn't like that. He had considered that Reader was originally a spy for them but concluded that that was unlikely, he also considered recruiting Reader as a spy themselves but won't until he figures out a way around their communication issues.

Currently, he's 'content' with Reader having 'friends' inside the hotel because he knows that he's their favourite. But they better stay away from Alastor. They better not be letting him talk at them. He means it! THAT'S YOUR THINGS WITH HIM NOT YOUR THING WITH AL!

omg I thought I answered this back then when I got it I'M SO SORRY ANON😭

Idk how to answer this honestly, it was worded so well ngl. Val would fr have that love-and-hate relationship with reader. He loves that he can sometimes say to the others about how the butterfly stays in his office/part of the building, but then comes the part that he gets little to no attention, which he obviously hates. And yes, no matter what he gets told, the things made with reader around are OBVIOUSLY better and make more money,, obviously bcs how else there's absolutely no difference😒As for the banging ideas... don't let anyone outside of The Vee's know, that's all I will say bcs Val may end up dead once again...

Velvette is the safest to be around ngl, she doesn't do anything crazy after getting no attention like Val, and the gram is so real, she would save all the real pics to her gallery for sure. I just know that while some guys got exposure, some ended up a little differently... she so would get jealous over pics taken from really up close, she doesn't want random idiots that close to reader. And the collection !! Yes!! The price would be so high that even someone with The Vee's paycheck would call it really expensive, after all, she can't let some complete random wear something like that !! If reader told her how something would look better, even a mere suggestion, she WOULD think abt it for long before most likely actually changing it.

"This might lead to some form of unhealthy attachment to Reader." Don't even get me started on that, if they were to meet, he would assume that reader was actually able to hear every single thing he has said, which reader would not as they hear only what's in the actual show, unless we're going into an Au of sorts.I feel like he wouldn't try to get into reader's pants, but he may listen to Val without being forced to do it from time to time... It's not that he dislikes the fact that the lil butterfly hangs out a lot at the hotel, he HATES it, he wants reader at The Vee's building more !!

[effy-writes]

Can I request Striker with a fem s/o (hcs) who is basically the opposite of him, readers a city girl, wears expensive dresses, expensive jewelry, designer heels, and she's most likely a celebrity but she's still polite?? Ty!!

ofc!! sorry it’s taking me so long i have like 10 requests 😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

striker x f! yuppie! model! reader HC’s

• striker knew of you because you were a popular model in the Wrath ring. you did all sorts of modeling. fashion, perfume, hands, tail, lingerie, even weaponry. striker being striker, he hated the idea of you. hates yuppies (rich person) absolutely despises them, so he kinda hated you (but he still thought you were extremely attractive). the first time he actually met you was when you were buying a gun that you modeled for. he instantly recognized you because you were wearing expensive clothes with a fucking gucci coat and heels. while shopping, you didn’t know which gun to buy (you only modeled for them, you actually have no idea on which one is better), so you asked striker.

• he was shocked that you were wanting to get his opinion, especially a poor imp like himself. he thought to himself, “why would a rich person want my opinion?”, but he saw how nice you talked to him. you didn’t treat him like a pest, you treated him like an actual person. (he has bad self esteem issues). after that little interaction of him telling you which gun is better and which one he recommends for you, you decided to ask him out. “you’re really attractive, can we go out sometime? getting to know each other better?” he thought you were tricking him to humiliate, but he saw the way you look at him with those sweet, beautiful eyes of yours, so he said yes

• ever since then you two hit it off. he found out so many things about you that you don’t broadcast to the world. he also found out that you don’t model for the money or for the popularity, you model because it makes you happy and helps give you confidence. he was hesitant to tell you about his work, but when he did you were oddly excited. you thought that was so cool and that he’s killing people with a gun that YOU modeled for.

• he was the one who properly asked you to date. he was nervous as FUCK only because he felt like he didn’t deserve a model like you, but you obviously thought very different. you love his personality, his demeanor, and his ambition. the moment you two started dating the media got out about it. he was embarrassed (not because of you, because he didn’t want to seem weak and vulnerable because he IS an assassin, but you quickly told him that it doesn’t make him sound weak or anything like that and you’re very grateful to be dating a guy like him)

•he enjoyed that you never bragged about your money (even though you do wear expensive shit, but he knows you deserve to wear expensive shit because you have to deal with creeps)

• speaking of creeps, he will 100% shoot anybody that tries to touch you, cat call you, or even look at you with lustful eyes. he’s very protective and will do anything to keep you safe.

• you LOVE buying him things, it’s your love language. he always says “you don’t have to buy me fancy shit, i ain’t jealous” “but you’ll look so hot in this! plus let me spoil you, please?”

• because everyone is up your ass, everyone knows about striker and his assassination business. he thought it will bring his sales down, but because you’re so popular and everyone knew him, more people started paying him to kill others. so it was def a win-win situation

• he often feels bad that he can’t treat you with nice things, but you’ll always tell him that you don’t care about money and that you never did. you care if he’s happy and comfortable. but because he’s not rich like you, he will try his best to buy you sentimental things. flowers, love letters, he even saved up his money to buy you a HORSE. (you two joke around and say his and your horse is dating)

• he’s afraid you think that he’s with you for the money, so he’s always telling you that he’s not with you for that. he’s with you because you make him feel happy, you’re super sweet to him, and that there’s somebody in hell that cares about him. you always reassure him that you know he’s not with you for the money

bonus: everyone in the media ships you guys so hard that there’s edits of the two of you, fan art, AND fanfics. striker finds it a little weird, but you find it so fucking funny

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 2- Ch. 1: Letting Go

It’s been 2 months since I’ve left Auradon Prep. Part of me says it’s saddening to be left alone with 2 cats in the middle of the woods. But on the other hand it’s been so liberating! I’ve finally mastered the difficult draughts and elixirs in mother’s spellbook, as well as being able to move objects with my mind.

The empathy path between me and Carlos has helped keep me updated on how things are back at school, letting me know that my true love has been feeling content and happy. Which is… nice? Is it selfish of me to be jealous that Carlos is doing fine without me? Does he miss me as much as I miss him?

“Magica! I have returned!”

I keep stirring my moonlight elixir and pay the black cat little attention. “Greetings, Binx. Sorry if I’m a bit vague but I’m feeling dragged down today. Did you bring the ginger root I require?”

He hops up on a nearby stack of books. “Um… actually I brought something better-”

“Knock knock, trixie!”

My jaw drops. “No!” I open the door to find the 4 VKs standing on my doorstep and a wide grin sets on my face. “Goodness gracious! Hey, guys! Come on in!”

They’re just as I remember them! It seems longer than 2 months since I’ve seen them, and in the short time I can already see they’ve changed a bit. Most noticeable is that Carlos has grown his hair out a bit.

Evie looks ecstatic as she examines my newly-colored hair. “I must say, your new look is stunning! Why purple?”

“Yeah, well… I kinda got inspiration from Mal. This year purple is the new pink!”

They all give me one big hug and then start taking a look around my small dwelling.

“Wow. You’ve really gotten hooked on this witch stuff,” Jay gawks when he sees my overflowing shelves of books and potion vials. “Hey Binx- think fast!” He tosses the black cat a ball of twine, which Binx bats away at like a madman- er, madcat.

“Sorry I didn’t tidy up, but in my defense it isn’t often I get visitors. Once in a while FG drops by to see how I’m doing, but other than that the only conversation I get is with Binx.”

“That sounds lonely,” Carlos frowns.

I shrug. “It took some getting used to but I actually enjoy it. So, why the pop-in?”

“We wanted to stop by to invite you to Ben and my Cotillion next week,” Mal says as she examines my herbs. Meanwhile Evie keeps taking sneak peaks in my closet and mentally judging the wrinkled clothes.

“Is that… like a dance or something? Also yes, Evie, I know my clothes aren’t the best. But when you live in the woods you lower your expectations!”

She pouts and crosses her arms. “Fine. But when you come to cotillion I’m making you a proper gown!”

I frown. “Who says I’m going?”

“We do, because we miss you!” Carlos pulls me in for a hug and my heart does a flip.

“Aw, you’re too kind, Freckles. Oh! Evie, how’s the fashion business going?”

The blue-haired VK’s eyes light up. “I’m already booked with dress orders! Doug’s been helping me set up a real designer business!”

Ooh, I bet Doug’s loved that! I really hope they stay together.

“So what should I do for Cotillion? I’m a weird scary witch, remember? I haven’t spent 2 months alone in the woods for nothing!”

“You’ll be an honorary guest on behalf of Ben and me.” Mal takes my hand and gives me a stern look. “If people have a problem with that, they take it up with us.”

“We actually came here for another reason…” Jay eyes Mal, who snickers.

“We need your help to brew a catastrophe draught for a school prank. I’ve got a spell from my book that’ll heighten its power, then we’re-”

“We’re going to dip some apples in it and give them to the other students!” Jay laughs. “It’s gonna be hilarious!”

Evie smiles. “And we know your mom’s spell book would have the best recipe, since your aunt’s into crazy potions and all.”

My mouth twists into a lopsided grin. “Gonna make ‘em all dance, huh? Sounds familiar.”

Carlos nudges me playfully. “Thought we’d take a page out of your book. So will ya help us out?”

I look around at the VKs’ hopeful faces and smirk. “And waste a moment to make Audrey look like a complete fool? Definitely!”

“Um, actually she’s been away visiting family for summer vacation.”

I rethink. “Then we’ll make Chad look like a complete fool! Let’s get started.”

After emptying my moonlight elixir I start scurrying around and preparing the proper ingredients for the catastrophe draught while the others pull out a bag of apples and find the spell in Mal’s book.

“Think FG will suspect I’m involved?”

Jay shakes his head and keeps playing catch with Binx. “Nah. You’re all she talks about in goodness class. Always going on about how ‘evil triumphs over good!’ and your whole spiel about ‘don’t let your heritage define your future.’ All that nice stuff.” 

“Let’s give Auradon a taste of evil…” Mal says smugly as she tosses some apples into my cauldron.

“Well, this’ll do the trick! With my mom’s magic brew and your spellbook bewitchment this’ll turn the whole school into a gang of hooligans! I wish I could see it.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see Jay give Carlos a nudge.

“You could come back, you know.” The freckled VK gets closer and I try to ignore my racing heartbeat. Don’t get your hopes up, Magica.

I keep stirring the draught and shake my head. “I’m sorry, Carlos. But it’s best if I stay in hiding until I can make my appearance at the cotillion.”

By now the brew starts glowing an aqua green and is ready for Mal’s spell.

“Wicked ways beneath the skin, let all who taste it now join in!”

We pluck the apples from the draught and they turn a bright red, causing Mal to nod in approval.

“Perfect.” She gathers them into a bag and turns to head off for the door, motioning for the others to follow.

“You’ll be at cotillion, right?” Evie asks in a hopeful voice.

At first I’m against it, but the thought of spending another two months alone here makes me cave.

“Oh, alright! Count me in!”

Jay gives me a thumbs-up and Carlos tugs me in for one last hug.

“See you soon, trixie!”

“Maybe try to stop by before cotillion?” Carlos asks after planting a quick kiss on my lips.

My smile falters but I keep a steady head. “I… might pop in for a visit.”

The VKs give a wave before shutting the door and leaving me with a very worn-out Binx.

“Had fun? You could have informed me you were bringing guests, Binx.”

“And spoil that face you had when you opened the door? Never!”

I finish cleaning up my workstation and sweep the dirt from the floor outside. “It’s just that I’d like more of a warning. There’s some magic I’ve learned that I’m not exactly fond of sharing at the moment.”

The truth is, I’ve been practicing more magic from mother’s book than I’ve let on to Fairy Godmother. She sent some approved spellbooks and potion manuals, but doesn’t know about my spellbook. I’ve found and used many useful spells, none of the dark ones. Just enough knowledge to know when to draw the line. In doing so, my usual pink magic has turned into a deep purple. I feel that if I reveal just how much I’ve read into then I’ll be grounded to learning only pocket spells again. I am no mere child to be monitored- I am a Sanderson witch.

Carlos’ POV

We get back to school and head off to start handing out the bewitched apples. I find Dude waiting for me in the gardens with an expectant look on his face.

“Sorry, bud. She’s not coming. At least for now.” 

It really tore me up when I had to leave Magica alone again, but at least this time I have an idea of when I’ll see her again.

Before I pass around my helping of apples, Jay nudges me over to a corner.

“Real quick before the fun begins, I gotta say something about trixie. Sorry to say this Carlos, but you might wanna start thinking about finding another girlfriend? One who’s… actually around?”

He thinks I- what?

My jaw drops. “How can you say that? You know I love her, Carlos! Magica’s one of the only people I completely trust. Just ask Dude!”

My canine friend joins my side and gives a loud bark as he hops up and down at the sound of Magica’s name.

But Jay’s still looking doubtful. “She says she wants to be left alone. I’d say that’s a fair turning point for any relationship you guys have.”

She- she- But she only wanted to be alone because she thought she was dangerous! Because she doesn’t like people… Isolation, being excluded… Is that a sign that she doesn’t want to be in my life? After all, every time I’ve asked her to hang out with us she’s refused and acted distant. If that’s truly what she wants…

“But you know how much she’s had to go through! If I consider this then it’ll tear her apart.”

Jay takes out an apple and tosses it between his hands. “I know, I know. But some good things aren’t meant to be. She’d say something if she wanted to be with you. Sometimes you need to let things go.”

He goes off to start spreading mischief and leaves me with Dude, who lets out a whine.

“I know, buddy. I miss her too.”

Maybe it is time to start letting things go...

[lakesbian]

#though like. he has had to have some laundry system at some point because he's definitely cleaned the regent costume at some point#like he almost certainly got someone else to do it but he does have to have a way to clean that#right? right??????

okay i'm awake and can have coherent thought about him now. the pile-up of clothes he doesn't wear until he discards them all at once makes significantly more sense than tossing literally every day so i'll be assuming that's true now. i also assume if he ever has anything he wants to rewear he just covertly (or not so covertly) tosses it in with everyone else's laundry, which is probably how he cleans the regent costume. (up until he has his own Minions, at which point someone is probably getting paid a mildly exorbitant amount to wash it for him whenever it gets too dirty.) a fun fact about the costume is that he has at least two iterations of it because he brings a dark gray Night Mode version to the early ABB raid. also i'm very endeared to the vision of lisalec shopping trip....roommates having a nice time together:) lisa and depressionboys day out maybe they go to a cafe or something and get some enrichment in his miserable life

i don't think it's accurate to say he dresses nicely for attention specifically. alec kind of has a weird duality going on. it's very clear that growing up in a crowded cult household where he had essentially no longterm belongings, no consistent access to sufficient food or privacy or hygiene materials, literally no meaningful healthy human connection, and no route to gain any approximation of any of those things but as carrots within his father's grooming Fucked Him Up, to say the least. he doesn't enjoy being alive very much, he has no real long term plans outside of "step one: get famous step two: revenge by being better and cooler than dad," and he's prone (for obvious reasons) to feeling Bad if the way he's living feels insecure with regards to any material need. so he shovels all his money into the little endless void in his chest in the form of nice new clothes he'll only wear once, and fast food carry-out every night, and novel video games and movies from earth aleph. he dresses like a special little prince because he really Wants to be a special boy with a special pampered life. he's clinging to an almost absurd excess of everything he was extensively taught he didn't deserve to have, and he's telling himself that having it is making his life perfectly good enough and he doesn't care that he still has no human connections.

that's what he tells himself in his interlude--that he likes being a background character, that he doesn't care that taylor and brian and lisa and rachel are all friends and he doesn't have that, that he actually Likes being so alone and stays that way on Purpose so nobody notices when he's being fucked up. but as much as he's lying to himself about Wanting to be alone, it is true that he makes a habit of putting himself in the background so people don't notice that he actually is very new at this "existing in normal human society" thing. in early worm he oscillates between trying to get attention and be taylor's friend and shit like the scene where he realizes his understanding of morals is completely detached from anything even approaching norm human behavior and walks back out of the conversation with a "but you guys are smarter than me so maybe there's something im missing." he wants to dress nicely so that He feels good about himself, and he wants his clothing to be clearly respectable if anyone else is looking, but it's an If, because he doesn't actually want most people to be paying attention to him lest they go "hey what's up with this guy." hence his dressing habits being understated both in color and design. and that's not even getting into how im sure he has complicated feelings about being regarded as attractive. tldr i think it's largely about needing to come off as having a specific Status that both he and anyone happening to perceive him will buy into so that he feels alright about himself vs wanting to be regarded as attractive and receive attention for it

one thing about alec that i don't think wb was Wrong about but still have trouble mentally integrating into my understanding of him just because it's so completely batshit is the fact that he prefers to throw his clothes away and buy new ones instead of doing any laundry. like i don't know if this changes once he has Underlings to pay to assist him in the villainous task of washing his socks but it's really harshing my tendency to draw characters in 1-3 consistent outfits like they're in a cartoon. genuinely what do you mean he just throws them out. you're telling me every time alec gets done wearing a pair of underwear they go in the trash? he's just going Kobe and tossing the socks he's worn once in there? or is he god forbid rewearing them extensively? how often does brockton ups have to come to this weird shady loft to deliver eight-packs of boxer briefs? does he get home and just immediately take his shirt off and casually deposit it in the kitchen garbage so he can change into his pajamas? Alec buddy what are you doing

[myherowritings]

PART 5. THE INHERENT EROTICISM OF BUTTONING SOMEONE’S CLOTHES

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 3.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. sexual tension !! and umm sexual frustration ;p, not explicit but prob rated 16+, just read the title of this chapter BAHAHA

A/N. sorry this is coming a little later than planned ! :( but i hope the dressing room scene can make up for it u.u tysm for reading and for all the feedback! enjoy :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

What were you supposed to wear to a shopping date? you asked yourself. Not that today was a date or anything. Though maybe you sort of wished it were… 

The Naruhata Charity Gala was in a little over a week and Shouto would be coming over to pick you up in less than one hour and you still sat in your room with nothing but a towel on feeling more and more hopeless. 

It was a strange dilemma. He met you in your work apron wearing an unflattering work shirt and work pants. And when you met up over the weekend previously, you never paid too much mind on what you would wear. In fact, you were positive he wouldn’t even care how you looked. So why was it such a big deal to you now? 

Probably because of your recent admission of your growing feelings towards him, you thought crossly. 

In your defense, it wasn’t like it was your fault! Right? Seeing someone everyday… Wanting to see someone everyday… Texting regularly about the most random things, having the most banal objects you saw throughout the day remind you of something Shouto did or said… With all those occurrences it would’ve been practically impossible to not start crushing on him! 

Time passed as you stared at your ceiling blankly. If you kept this up, he was bound to show up in your house and find you half-naked. (Now that you mentioned it, that didn’t sound like the worst idea. But it wasn’t something you’d randomly spring upon someone.)

“Get up, Y/N!” you scolded yourself, rolling off your bed and heading towards your closet. 

In the end, you ended up settling for another variation of your usual go-to outfit and called it a day. It happened to be perfect timing since, by the time you finished getting ready, you got a new message on your phone. 

Shouto: Parked in front of your place

Shouto: Sorry I’m a little early. You can take your time getting ready :)

Y/N: it’s okay i’m ready now!! 

After hitting send, you put your shoes on, gathering your belongings you wanted to bring with you, and headed out the door. Excited to hang out with Shouto again, you walked with a skip in your step down the path until you reached his car. 

“Hi!” You waved through his half-opened, tinted window. To no one’s surprise, his car was a sleek black color with dark, tinted windows, and gold details along the sides. If it didn’t look so oddly sexy you would’ve laughed at how cutely dorky he was for matching his car with his credit card. “This is one hot car.”

He turned his head to the side when you entered the passenger’s seat. “Should I turn the AC higher?” 

“Huh— Oh!” You stifled a giggle when you processed the pun he made. “You’re funny, Shouto.” 

He only looked a little confused. “Thank you.” 

The interior of his car was no less—for lack of better term—sexy than the outside. Leather seats, a large screen for the radio and carplay, and the dashboard and side doors lit up a nice blue color. 

“Pretty!” you complimented, poking at the colorful light.

“Want to pick a color?” 

Your eyes widened. “It can change colors?!” 

Shouto nodded.

“Can it be pink?” you asked intently. 

“Light pink or hot pink?”

“Light.”

He swiftly obliged and with a hit of a touchscreen button, the interior lighting changed from blue to pastel pink. 

“Green!”

It turned green.

“Orange!”

Cue the orange. 

“Purple?” 

Purple. 

Once you were thoroughly satisfied with Shouto showing you the whole color selection (you were almost embarrassed to admit it kept you entertained for a good ten minutes), you settled on a bright turquoise that reminded you of the color of his left eye. 

“Ooh, this color! My favorite,” you said simply, giving him a wide smile. 

A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he developed a sudden interest in adjusting his rearview mirror. “Hm.”

Shouto drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, occasionally asking how your week was outside of work and what type of outfit you wanted to wear so he could have a better idea on where to take you. 

“Did you eat?” he suddenly asked when he hit the next stoplight, one hand holding the wheel and the other resting comfortably on the gear shift. 

His hands looked nice and slender and soft to the touch. Pretty hands, you thought but shook yourself out of it because you could go down a rabbit hole of examining his hands and going into detail about them. 

You remembered the single, measly granola bar you had due to your rush getting ready. “I didn’t really eat yet, no. Did you?”

He shook his head and pulled into a food plaza with lots of stores to choose from. The two of you agreed on a noodle restaurant that apparently had some of the best cold soba (once you learned it was his favorite food, you wanted to be able to have some with him and today was the perfect opportunity to do just that) and promptly headed to the location. 

In the shop, a waiter sat the two of you down at a dimly lit booth with the perfect amount of ambience that if someone were to casually look over, they might even mistake this outing as a date. 

You grinned at the thought. 

“Excited for the soba?” asked Shouto, examining the smile on your face thoughtfully. 

That’s not why you were smiling, but it was close enough. “Mhm. And the udon. You can never go wrong with noodles!” 

Yes, you got both udon and soba. But in your defense, where else would the fun in life be if not in sugary sweets and carbs? 

As the two of you waited for your main dishes, you ate some fish cakes and edamame while talking about the ways in which capitalism could be dismantled. Rather sexy of him, if you did say so yourself. 

Before you knew it, you were done with your meal and headed back into his car to go fancy-people shopping. On the remainder of the ride, you asked yourself what color you should pick that would match well with both you and Shouto. After all, nothing said a cute couple who totally liked each other going on a totally real date to a gala like color-coordinated outfits, right?

He parked in front of a street of buildings with a dark glass reaching from ceiling to floor with security guards at the door. Just standing near it made you feel fancy. 

“This is a place my sister told me she liked,” he said, leading you to the store front with his hand on the small of your back to guide you. “I hope you’ll find something to your liking.”

You tried your best not to pay too much attention to the warmth you felt both on your back and your stomach from the fuzzy feelings that spread. 

“Hello, welcome!” the both of you were greeted as you walked through the doors. The interior of the store was lined with designer dresses, some long, some short, and all incredibly stunning. There were only a few other patrons in the store, but all of them looked so elegant as they tried on their dresses. “It’s so lovely to see you again Mr. Todoroki.”

Shouto nodded subtly. “Hello. This is Y/N, my date to the gala who’ll need your assistance today.”

“Hi!” you chimed in at his cue. “Nice to meet you.” 

The worker smiled and made her way over to you. “And you as well. I’m Masuda and I’ll do my best to make sure you leave the store satisfied with your purchase! Did you have a particular style or perhaps color in mind?”

“Umm,” you said sheepishly, looking around the wide variety of clothings and unsure where to start. “I’m not too sure. It’s my first time going to one of these things so maybe something comfortable, but also still...fancy?” You scratched the back of your neck. “Does that even exist?”

“Of course— Just have to find something that feels comfortable to you.” She told you to hold on one moment as she disappear into the rows of fabric. 

As Masuda collected some starter dresses for you to try on, a customer walked by with bags of clothes in her hands, her gaze lingering on Shouto, though neither of you paid her much mind. 

“In this setting, you look almost fit to be a sugar daddy,” you said jokingly, looking around in awe at the sophisticated yet lavish dresses. “You take all your sugar babies here?”

“Only the ones I really like,” he teased back. His voice was deadpan but there was the telltale hints of a smirk on his face to let you know he was only messing with you.

The door chimed to signal that a customer left and by then Masuda had returned with bundles of fabric draped on her arm. She led you away in a hurry and you hesitantly looked back at Shouto who followed in a safe distance. Seeing your moment of panic, he gave you an encouraging smile that somehow was enough to ease a significant fraction of your nerves. This may be new and confusing territory, but at least he was here to help you through it. 

Masuda set a dressing room up for you—it was one of those rooms in the middle of the store with curtains that reached the ceiling and mirrors all around—and placed a bunch of outfits she thought would suit your taste. It reminded you of when a bride would go wedding dress shopping with their family. When you had enough outfits for the first round, she told Shouto to sit down on a leather seat in front of your dressing room while he waited for you to try the different dresses on. 

In a way, it felt oddly intimate: Shouto sitting just a few feet in front of you as you undressed, only separated by the veil of a curtain. Would he offer to help button the back of your dress up, fingers brushing against your bare skin? The thought made you feel almost hot inside as you changed out of your street clothes and into the first dress. 

Unfortunately for you, this dress had no such difficult buttons to reach. 

“How’s it look?” you asked shyly as you emerged from the dressing room. 

The dress was pretty and didn’t feel uncomfortable to walk in, but there wasn’t any sort of attachment you felt towards it. In other words, it was simply...meh. 

Shouto looked up from his phone to take in the sight of you. He smiled. “You look amazing as always.” 

“You think so?” You spun around and curtseyed jokingly and he chuckled. “I don’t think it’s bad, but I’m not sure if it’s the right one.” 

“We’ll be here until you find the right one you want, then. Take your time, Y/N.” 

His voice was normally on the deeper side, but it sounded even more sensual and gravelly at this very moment. You felt goosebumps on your arms and it wasn’t just because of the sleeveless dress you currently had on. 

“T-Thanks, Shouto,” you murmured, turning around and walking back into the changing room to hide the look on your face. You didn’t even know what kind of look you had on your face, but you knew it was one that might give too much away. 

It wasn’t fair that he had to be so sweet and caring and thoughtful and handsome and rich… Most guys you met barely fit into one of those criteria, let alone all five. (Sure, the last two weren’t necessary in your opinion, but you couldn’t deny they were a nice bonus.) It was too bad you had no clue how he felt about you. 

There were moments where he felt flirty and teasing, like maybe he viewed you in a more-than-friends way. But other times he was so polite and proper and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just being nice because that’s simply the sort of person he was to everyone. 

While you were trying to sort through all your thoughts, you completely forgot to change into a new dress the whole time you were in here. 

You saw a shadow at the floor of the curtain before a voice said, “Y/N? Are you okay in there?” 

Jumping at the sound, you scurried to put the next dress on, a blue one with almost translucent fabric and a delicate neckline. Judging from the proximity of Shouto’s voice and the shadow of his shoes, he was right next to you as you changed. 

“I’m okay!” you managed, hoping you didn’t sound as wobbly as you felt. You held the dress closed at the back, fumbling with the fastens. “I just, ah, needed help buttoning this one up.” 

A light ruffle on the curtain then a pause. “Should I...come in and help?” 

Your eyes widened, not expecting him to actually offer to button it up like you fantasized earlier. You fully thought he might called the worker to aide you just so he wouldn’t risk making you uncomfortable. (Not that he would’ve. At all.) 

“I apologize,” he said somewhat tensely after you didn’t respond. “That was indecent of me—”

“No, no!” you said profusely, poking your head out of the curtain while holding the fabric at the front of your dress to your chest. You tilted your chin to meet his gaze with a determined one of your own. “I’d love your help, Shouto.” 

With a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks, he nodded and entered your dressing room. “This dress is a nice color on you.” His voice was loud against the silence. 

Shouto ran his hand down the length of your spine and then up to unfold the column of buttons on your dress that curved inwards at your movement, his knuckles grazing against your skin like lightning striking water. You jolted at the sudden feeling but he didn’t remove his touch when he felt it.

“Sorry.” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. “Was just getting the buttons out.”

“N-No worries!”

His fingers began working on the bottom-most button at your lower back as he applied a steady pressure on the base of your spine to control the motion. Shouto slowly began his way up, fingertips cold to the touch. But you knew that wasn’t the only reason you felt yourself shiver. As he fastened the dainty buttons with immense concentration (much more concentration than was actually needed to fasten buttons, you were sure), you felt the heat of his breath tickling the back of your neck. You almost couldn’t keep yourself from arching your back in a mixture of anticipation and delight at his constant touch. 

When he finished the last button, Shouto let one hand rest on your hip, grasping the fabric between his fingertips to examine its silken texture. Your breath caught in your throat as you stepped back and bumped into his chest, but he was already there to steady you. 

With his arm on your waist and your back leaning against his chest, you made eye contact through the mirror in front of you. You weren’t sure if the pounding you felt was from your heart or his or a combination of both. 

There was something almost erotic about holding each others’ gaze in the mirror after Shouto just helped you dress, the two of you still not letting the other go despite the task being complete. 

“The dress… You look gorgeous,” he said, not taking his eyes off you for one moment. 

You nodded slowly. It did look amazing on you. And it was breathable and soft. (Plus, Shouto liked it, which made you happier than you’d care to admit.) “The only downside would be I need help getting into it.”

“We could get ready together so it’s no issue.” 

“I’d...also need help getting out of it.” 

You held your breath as his eyes darkened, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly in a way that made you curve your back before you remembered you were flush against Shouto and he could feel even the most subtle of movements coming from your body. But by the time you stopped yourself, it was too late. He already felt it and you wanted more.

His voice was hoarse. “I could help you with that too.”

Instead of beginning to unbutton the dress like part of you thought he would, he surprised you by spinning you around to face him, your shoulder blades pressed against the cool glass of the mirror and your palms lingering on the muscles of his warm chest. The contrast of the cold glass and Shouto’s body heat left a shiver down your spine.

“And how do you plan to help take off my dress when you can’t even see the buttons?” you said challengingly, a smirk on your face despite knowing full well your body was showcasing just how affected you were by this situation. By Shouto.

He tilted his head to the side in response to your daring tone, hands swiftly finding their way to your back and unbuttoning the top five buttons. It wasn’t enough to completely expose your breasts, but it was enough to loosen the fabric at the neckline in a way that made you gasp. 

“Seems doable to me,” he commented. 

You tugged him down slightly by the collar of his shirt. “I don’t quite believe you. Maybe you should prove it.” 

A guttural noise sounded from the back of his throat as he cupped your jaw and leaned in closer. You inched forward, eager to meet his lips. But before they could touch, a knock came from the wall next to the curtain, causing the two of you to freeze in your spots, bodies pressed against each other in an intimate flush.

“Hello, Y/N?” said Masuda cheerfully, blissfully ignorant about what was about to happen in a public dressing room in the middle of the store. “How are the dresses coming along? Did you like any?”

“Ah, actually…” you trailed off, exchanging frustrated but amused glances with Shouto. “I think we’ll take this one.”

a/n: so...mirror sex/sex in a dressing room as a bonus chapter? u.u why yes of course. i’m one step ahead; did u even have to ask? LMAO and hm i wonder if y/n’s fEeLiNGs~ are reciprocated skfkfkdg ALSO THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO KISSING BUT DIDN’T I CRY hopefully the wait will be worth it ;3

what to expect in the next part:

GALA TIMEEEE

yes y/n finally gets the fancy candy they so desired

we get to see shouto’s sexy penthouse

shouto says eat the rich >:c

[yuckydraws]

Dunno if you're up for more questions still, but I'm just gonna jump right into it...

Do you have some general facts about Wine?

Sorry it took me a bit to get to this one!

••••••••••••

When you first meet Wine, he’s very pleasant, however also extremely intimidating. His words are nice, but if you’re perceptive you can almost tell it’s fake.

His fake niceness is his trust issues taking form. He’s not rude per se, it’s just, if you pay attention, you’ll see that he isn’t really invested in the conversation. He’s just going through the motions of having one.

Of course, the more you get to know him, and the more he finds out about you, the more that pleasantness becomes real. He’ll start to joke and tease and overall seem a lot more comfortable with you.

He’s very elegant. Every move he makes and action he takes has a sort of grace to it.

He lives luxuriously. He makes quite a bit of money, so he enjoys in some of the finer things.

Like his namesake suggests, he loves wine. His wine cabinet is filled with only the best - at least the best in his eyes. (Though he’s mostly named this because his magic is a wine color)

He sews and woodworks.

He likes to make his own clothes, and make clothes for Coffee and his S/O. His clothes always have a bit of flare and personal touch. Nothing he makes is subpar.

His woodworking is mainly focused on furniture. His designs are intricate and beautiful - and he actually sells some of them on the side. His pieces are always sought after.

Sometimes you’ll find him wearing dresses. Not as often as Pup, but he does enjoy feeling pretty as well sometimes. His dresses are a little more fancy than Pup’s as he goes for comfort - Wine goes for style.

Like Vant, he’s blind in his scarred eye, but it’s hardly stopped him.

This man never stops. He’s go go go. He works himself until he drops basically. It drives Coffee mad. The only time he slows down a little bit is when he makes time to spend with Coffee and his S/O.

Please make him relax.

He also can be pretty nosy - it’s a habit he can’t shake. It’s extremely hard to keep things from him.

He can tell when people lie after years of interrogating for the Queen.

He’s a real estate agent. His perceptive nature, attention to detail, and personal flare helps him a lot in his job. He helps many people find the perfect home specifically for them, and he’s amazing at his job.

[jasmine-the-fox]

She got the helping hand she needed

Sorry for not writing anything for such a long time! Don’t worry Loose the model but win a hero is going to be updated soon enough... Just give me some time to read what I wrote so far and I might have a chapter or two up soon?

Marinette only wanted someone on her side after she spoke her side of the story, sure Chloe turned from believing Lila to protecting Mari and she had Kagami and Luka on her side... But her class, miss Bustier and her principal thought she was the bad guy, a bully, a thief or even a villain.

She really just wanted a friend, someone who would let her cry or someone who would listen to her... Even just give her a helping hand! But so far she didn’t have much help, she decided to go online to talk... With the hopes of finding her soulmate, yeah her soulmate... Something that Lila had claimed she was lying about, while Lila talks about her soulmate mark without showing it... Mari was showing her’s to her friends while trying to figure out who it was.

Chloe really wanted to help her, so she went on her international social media accounts and posted Mari’s mark asking for anyone who might have an idea on who might be her soulmate to reach out to her, she really hopes it might help as heck even Jagged Stone did the same thing! Asking his fans to help out with finding his niece’s soulmate making his fans agree and get to work, they began looking at the mark Mari has, asking there friends questions, asking what Marinette is like so they can try and pinpoint possible matches to the girl.

And so far people were doing there best to find something... But still there wasn’t much, anyone could match the orange and black smoking dragon wrapped around her neck and might not even want to reach out to her at all, it made sense since like Alya said if Mari does have a soulmate... They might not even like her and want nothing to do with her once they see her for who she is.

Until someone contacted her.

It was on her instagram, she was just uploading a new outfit she finished that was delivered that she could now reveal when she got the notification of someone reaching out to her on instagram, it was a boy around her age named Katsuki Bakugo. The guy was blond with spiky hair and sharp red eyes, he asked about the dragon design around her neck making her take a picture and sent it to him... Five minutes later he sent a picture of his left rib cage that shows a ladybug with a needle with a red thread.

He was her soulmate... They matched.

He asked if she was disappointed… Knowing her soulmate was an explosive guy who yells often... So it wasn’t smoke but explosions around the dragon, it then made sense to her and so she replied that she would like to meet him before making that decision, Katsuki explained that he was in Japan and he didn’t know if he would ever get a chance to go to Paris to meet her so she explained that she could wait and that for now this was enough for her.

But that didn’t mean her classmates cared about waiting...

They kept bothering her, kept pushing and hurting her, they laughed at her belief of having a soulmate when Lila claimed she was lying, for weeks and then months they kept going and made it worse for the young designer, then one day Lila claimed that the dragon was painted on her so Alya planned to dump water on Marinette to show the whole school that Marinette was lying about having a soulmate, so one day around lunch, Alya had with the help of Kim and Alix a huge container of water and waited over the entrance of the locker room for Mari to come out and when they saw her... They poured the water on her.

Everyone laughed at her... And then gasped.

The sight of the mark still being there proved that it wasn’t a fake... But seeing a boy with spike blonde hair with sharp red eyes glaring at everyone as he rushed towards Mari told them that he was her soulmate “You alright?” he asked softly as he handed her his jacket to cover her shivering body as they walked out of the school and towards the Grand hotel to get dry and dressed in dry clothes, Mari felt relief when she finally saw her soulmate for the first time, he brought her into the room he was staying in and brought her to the bathroom to take a hot shower while he get’s her a change of clothes.

Once she got out of the shower wrapped in a towel with her pigtails down, Katsuki had just set down on the bed a nice dress for her to wear, to find her hair down and slightly dripping with water made him quickly look away, tell her he got her some clothes and leave the room... He hopes she never finds out that he was the one to design her dress as a gift for when he meets her, it was Jasmine’s idea to be honest, Jasmine was his and Izuku’s childhood friend back when they were little and she with Izuku were known as the youngest people to find there soulmate since they met when they were four.

At the time, it was a big thing meeting your soulmate... But when your four? That’s something the world had to know, so Izuku did a lot of research about soulmates and proper gifts and discovered that handmade gifts show a great deal of love... So he made her a green bunny plushie as a gift, when Katsuki saw Marinette’s mark only through Jagged Stone’s fan website he went to look for Marinette and discovered she was his soulmate... Not knowing what to do Jasmine suggested he designs an outfit for her to wear... And he decided to not tell her he made it himself.

Just in case she rejects him in the end.

It was better this way... So he doesn’t feel the pain of her hating his work, he went to the room Izuku and Jasmine were sharing while his parent’s were out to get things ready for the photoshoot he was to work in, he knocked and Jasmine answered “Did something happen?” she asked as he barged into the room “Students laughed at her after someone dumped fucking water on her!” he exclaimed in anger making Izuku look at him in slight surprise “Kacchan... I get that your upset right now... But remember that you just met so your emotions are going to be all over the place right now” Izuku explained making Katsuki sigh and nod.

It was true, it has been confirmed that when you meet your soulmate or at least confirm who it is... Both person’s emotions go crazy for 24h of official meeting, so it’s best to be careful what you say of do when the pair is found “I just don’t know what to do?! What if she hates me!? I mean she was being bullied!! What will she think when she finds out what I used to do to you and Jasmine!?” he asked making Izuku sigh “I know it’s hard... But at least let her decide what she thinks? She might just surprise you” he explained as Katsuki sat down on the bed... He didn’t even notice Jasmine leaving the room to go find Marinette.

She walked into the room as Marinette cried with her phone in hand... She could tell the girl was going through something hard right now from something on her phone “Can I take a look at what is upsetting you?” she asked making Mari jump at her slightly, she then nodded and handed over her phone for Jasmine to look at... On the phone a girl named Alya was calling her a liar by getting a tattoo and claimed it to be her mark and then paying a guy to come over to the school to make them think there soulmates, a teacher sent an email saying she was getting detention for her actions at school and then a guy named Adrien was claiming to be disappointed in her on not taking the highroad like he said she should do.

She sighed and then moved to sit next to her on the bed “Allowing yourself to look at this isn’t healthy... Your allowing them to take you down into a depression to then end your life” Jasmine explained as she handed Mari her phone back “Katsuki would have been heartbroken if his mark vanished before meeting you... Let us help you to get better from this” she then offered and stood up with her hand stretched out for Marinette to take, she wasn’t all that sure of agreeing to be honest but the brunette seemed to be honest and kind... So Mari accepted the hand and follow the girl out of the room and towards another room where Katsuki and a curly green haired boy were.

The blonde turned to find Marinette still with her hair down but while wearing the beautiful sunset styled dress, he felt proud of designing the dress because she looked amazing while wearing it “You should call your parents and explain to them the situation” Jasmine said making Mari nod and quickly call them, explaining why she left school and her current location, they only ask for her to pick up her things from school and then stay safe where she was currently “If you want I can go to the school for you, just tell me your locker combination” Jasmine explained making Mari nod “Oh! Also i’m Jasmine Lessard and this is my soulmate Izuku Midoriya” Jasmine explained making the green haired boy nod to his introduction.

Jasmine left and came back with all of her things with a smile “Police came because someone witnessed the incident and demanded to see the CCTV footage and that the three students who dumped the water on you to be punished... So you don’t have detention anymore” she explained making Mari smile, but she was sure that it wasn’t over just yet, even so the trio began to talk to Mari about there life in Japan making Marinette happy about hearing all of this at the moment, after a while Jasmine left the room with Izuku to head out to find something to eat... Leaving Katsuki to reveal to his soulmate how he bullied his two friends from childhood.

And she still accepted him as her soulmate.

“Your trying to change your ways... The others changed for the worse while your fixing what you did wrong” she explained making him smile, the thought of her accepting him even after finding out that had bullied people before like she had gone through made him happy “I guess I should tell you... I actually designed the dress your wearing. My parents are fashion designers so it’s pretty much in the family” he explained making Mari smile at the news, the idea of her soulmate being close to designing made her happy at the fact he could help her in some ways, they began to talk about all kinds of things... Really anything they could think of until Izuku and Jasmine got back with Chloe right behind them with a look of relief at seeing Mari was alright.

For the next three days, Mari got to know Katsuki a little better making her really happy, after that he had work to do and wasn’t able to see her “Why don’t you come to the shoot? My parents have been bothering me since they saw the dress was gone” he explained making her smile and nod to the plan, when school ended she rushed home to put her things away and then went to the park to find Jasmine and Izuku were getting there make-up done for the shoot “Where’s Katsuki?” she asked making Jasmine look at her “He’s still changing... Turns out he and his mom don’t agree on something so there fighting at the moment” she explained making Mari nod as the two then moved to do the shoot.

She waited for a while as Adrien arrived with Lila, Alya and Nino with him, Lila noticed Mari and began to cry about how Mari had been sending her horrible texts about how her soulmate Katsuki Bakugo will hate her, Alya enraged was just about to head over when Katsuki went over to Mari with a lady who looked like him “Mari, this is my mom Mitsuki” he said making Marinette smile “So your the girl my brat Katsuki designed that dress for! My you are simply adorable!” she claimed making Mari blush at the woman's words.

Alya was lost, didn’t Lila say her soulmate was Katsuki? But that guy is Katsuki since she did show pictures of him... Did she lie? With a shake of her head she watched as Mitsuki took Mari away for something making Alya have no other choice but go back in defeat to her friends, Adrien moved away with Lila to get ready for there shoot while Alya told Nino what she heard “Maybe it’s the wrong guy? Just ask for his full name and see” he explained making her nod as she then saw Marinette dressed in a matching outfit to Katsuki walk over to the boy for a shoot together “You both look amazing! And your marks are in perfect view!” Mitsuki claimed as Alya saw the ladybug with sewing needle and red thread mark on Katsuki.

Lila lied. Katsuki wasn’t her soulmate... He was Marinette’s.

She looked over to Nino who had the same shocked face as she did, the duo then walked away for there shoot just as Lila and Adrien returned and a girl with short brown hair with the bottom half dyed red with glasses and a boy with curly green hair went to sit a little away from them “Oh my god it’s my BFF Jasmine! You know I actually helped her meet her soulmate Izuku a few years ago!” Lila claimed as Adrien while he did look interested... Actually winced at the lie “Dudette... Jasmine and Izuku were the youngest soulmate pair in history... They were four when they met and it’s still all over the news today” Nino explained as Lila went pale.

“You want to know something?” Alya asked the blind Lila who nodded with a smile “I saw the blonde boy, his name is Katsuki Bakugo and his mark on his left rib side... It’s a ladybug with a sewing needle and a red thread!” she claimed making Lila’s eyes widen in shock “The only one I remember being called a ladybug was Marinette who also loves to design clothes! We just began calling you our ladybug after you claimed Mari was insulting us and bullying you!” she exclaimed as Lila looked to be panicking at the fact she was found out like this.

Adrien on the other hand... Didn’t know what to do, he turned to look over where the two from the previous shoot were and saw that they were... Laughing and filming the whole thing, this was humiliating! If the video got out his father would be destroyed and known as the man who hired a liar as a model! He had to try and save himself, he looked around for some possible help but the sudden yelling fight between Alya and Lila made him move away to try and hide, he couldn’t believe he failed... He really thought that by being Lila’s friend she would at some point stop lying and change her ways... And yet it didn’t work... Instead his friends got hurt.

He began to look around for some help and ended up finding Marinette and Katsuki looking amazing during there shoot... Maybe even better then he and Lila ever could be really, he felt his heart break as he looked at his inner right wrist to where a beautiful vine of flowers graced his skin... He still didn’t know who his soulmate was and his father wanted him to date Lila, even so he tried looking at places with plants in Paris for his soulmate and could tell they weren’t in Paris at all... He just hopes to find them soon.

In the end Jasmine was actually livestreaming the whole incident with Izuku commenting the whole time in the chat... Letting everyone know about how Lila is a liar, how she tricked her classmates, teacher, principal and maybe even her parents and bullied his best friends soulmate... It went crazy and Lila was bombarded with insults on her social media... So much that she was reported and all her accounts were taken down, the class, Bustier and principal Damocles were also attacked for what they did to Marinette... Police ended up getting involved and investigated the school and class.

It took a month before the investigation was over, the class was punished, Bustier and Damocles were fired and Lila was sent to live in Italy... The class thought that things would then go back to how they were and would be friends with Mari again... But she never came back to class, there new teacher said she transferred to another school making them try to look around Paris for her... What they weren’t told was that she also left Paris for Japan to be with Katsuki and meet his friends.

She really did get the helping hand she needed all along.

[fridayfirefly]

A Friend at Midnight

Read A Friend at Midnight on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 13 - Reverse Robins

Dick hated Gotham Academy. He hated the pretentious, overqualified teachers. He hated the stuck-up, shallow students. He hated their expensive cars and their designer clothes and their smug faces. He hated the way they sucked up to him to his face but called him a circus freak behind his back. Especially, Dick hated their parties, where they drank and smoked and got high on party drugs.

However, a new drug was emerging in the back alleys of Gotham and Batman needed to know how far it had reached. So, as the only member of the family still in high school, it was Dick's job to infiltrate the party and investigate exactly what type of drugs his classmates were using. Dick wasn't happy about it but he didn't have much of a choice. Robin was Batman's sidekick, which meant that he didn't get to pick and choose his missions.

After an hour at Tony McLaughlin's house party Dick could safely say that the worst drug at the party was some ecstasy that Tony's older brother supplied. All Dick wanted to do was wash his hands and get away from the party, hopefully with enough time that he could still patrol with Tim. Dick rarely got to patrol with his older brother, who was so busy with his classes at Gotham University that he only ever came home during breaks.

Dick's plans for the night were derailed when he walked into the bathroom to see a girl lying in the bathtub, headphones in her eyes. Her eyes were closed, mascara messy from the tears. Dick recognized her as one of Lila's friends. She was a quiet girl, which was odd because most of Lila's friends were just as obnoxiously talkative as Lila.

"Are you alright?" asked Dick.

The girl blinked open her eyes. "I'm fine. I just wanted to get away from Lila."

At that moment, Lila Rossi poked her head through the bathroom door. "Dick, how nice to see you here." Lila said his name like it was honey on her tongue, lips curling into a smile as she spoke. Her eyes, however, betrayed her intentions. Dick was good at reading people. Good enough to know that Lila Rossi was bad news. "I didn't think you came to parties like this, not that I'm complaining. I see you've met the foreign exchange student that my family is hosting, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

It said a lot about Lila, thought Dick, that she said Marinette's relation to her before she said Marinette's name.

Dick shrugged, putting on his best nonchalant expression. "I just came to check it out. I was about to leave, anyway.

"You should stay. I'm sure you want to get to know Marinette. Isn't she just the cutest? We're best friends, Marinette and I." Lila got a little closer to Dick with every sentence until she was nearly pressed against his chest.

"Actually, I'm going home." Marinette pulled herself up out of the bathroom. Dick noted a few more details about her that he had missed in his first evaluation. There was alcohol on her breath as well as a plastic cup half-full of beer beside the bathtub. There was a bruise on the left side of her face, expertly hidden under her thick coat of makeup but easily detected by Dick, who was trained to recognize signs of abuse. There were also bruises on her knees, slightly obscured beneath her opaque tights, and scrapes on the palms of her hands. The evidence was overwhelming that there was something wrong with Marinette.

Lila rolled her eyes. "We're not leaving until the party's over."

"I'll take an uber."

"You didn't bring your wallet. How are you going to pay for that uber?" asked Lila, her tone starting to harden.

"I can drive Marinette home," said Dick. His offer was half a kindness towards Marinette, who looked like hell even though she was one of the most sober people at the party, and half because it gave him an excuse to leave without blowing his cover as just another partygoer.

"I don't think that's appropriate," said Lila. She looked scandalized at the suggestion that Dick and Marinette would go home together, which was an odd choice, considering she had propositioned Dick many times in his years at Gotham Academy.

"I don't care" Marinette walked out of the bathroom without another word, leaving Dick to trail after her as she made her way to the door, only detouring to grab a coat off of the back of one of the couches in the living room. She walked through the house like she owned the place, shooting glares at anyone who dared to get in her way. Dick didn't know how he had never noticed Marinette before - or, more accurately, he didn't know how he never saw through the mask of an empty-headed party girl that she put on when she was around Lila.

As soon as they left the house, Marinette started shivery, the cold December wind whipping her hair around her head. Dick showed her to his car and she climbed into the passenger seat, warming her hands against the heating vent as soon as he turned the car on.

"Where do you live?" asked Dick once they pulled out of the driveway.

"Lila's house is over on Washington Street," spoke Marinette, shifting in her seat so that she was hugging her knees.

Dick drove in silence, pretending out of politeness that he couldn't see the tears that started to slip down Marinette's face. However, when Marinette broke down in sobs it was much more difficult to not notice. "Could you pull over?" asked Marinette, sniffling as she spoke.

"Sure." Dick pulled his car into a gas station parking lot. After a few minutes, Marinette calmed down, her tears drying up.

"I'm sorry. I've just been having a hard time. Gotham is a big change from Paris," apologized Marinette.

"Lila said you were a foreign exchange student," noted Dick.

Marinette stared out the window and watched the cars driving by. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And now?"

Marinette turned to look at him, an unnerving sadness in her blue eyes. "Have you ever noticed how terrible Gotham is? There's so much pain out there and I can't escape it. It sucks you in and makes you feel like you deserve it."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I guess I should explain how I got here. When I decided that I wanted to participate in the foreign exchange program, I was given a choice between a couple of different host families. Lila called me up on the phone every night for a week before I made my choice assuring me that we would be best friends. All I wanted was a best friend, so I chose her, only to find out that every word she said to me was a lie. At first, Lila just wanted someone to torment, to make herself look and feel better. But when she couldn't wear me down fast enough, she changed tactics. She started taking me to parties and forcing me to get drunk and parading me around in front of her rich friends."

"Can you change host families?"

Marinette shook her head. "All of the other host families for Gotham Academy were given students of their own. Unless another family enrolls half-way through the semester, I'm stuck with Lila. I only left her at the party to get a moment away from her constant attention. I just needed a break."

With this new information, Dick could begin to see how Lila had worn away at Marinette. The girl looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes that were only half-hidden by her makeup.

"If you want to get away from Lila for the night, I could take you to my house. We have plenty of spare bedrooms."

The relief in Marinette's eyes was enough to break Dick's heart. It was obvious that Lila's abuse had taken its toll on the girl. "Thank you."

Dick turned the car around and started driving back to the Manor.

"Can I ask you a question?" Marinette piped up.

"Sure."

"Why did Lila call you a dick? She's usually much better behaved around attractive boys."

Dick let out a laugh. "My name is Dick."

Marinette tilted her head in confusion. "I thought that your name was Grayson?"

"Richard Grayson, but I go by Dick. But I think the more important thing to pay attention to is the fact that you called me attractive."

Marinette blushed. "I'm not going to flatter you by debating an objective fact."

"So you think my attractiveness is an objective fact?" teased Dick.

Marinette groaned. "I just can't win with you, can I?"

"Not if I can help it." Dick pulled the car up the driveway and into the garage. "Let's get you inside. You look cold."

Marinette glanced down at her outfit, the dress that was four inches shorter than the Gotham Academy regulation skirts and the white tights that were so thin they couldn't hide the bruises that marred her knees. "I wanted to wear pants, but Lila threatened to throw out all of my jeans if I didn't put a dress on."

Dick frowned, already making plans to have Bruce open up one of the spare bedrooms for Marinette permanently. There was no way he was sending Marinette back into the lion's den that was the Rossi household. "We've got company!" yelled Dick as he and Marinette came in through the side door. It was best to warn his family when there was company over so that they could at least pretend to be a normal family that didn't spend their nights fighting crime.

Dick led Marinette through the kitchen and into the foyer, just as Tim was coming down the stairs two at a time. "Who's our company?" he asked, giving Marinette an interested look.

"I offered Marinette her one of the spare rooms to spend the night," explained Dick.

"I'm Marinette." Marinette gave Tim a wave. Dick was struck by how different this Marinette looked from the girl who stormed through the McLaughlin's living room like everyone there was beneath her. In the empty foyer of Wayne Manor, with a hesitant smile on her face, Marinette looked vulnerable. Dick could tell that this was the real Marinette, not the mask she wore in front of Lila.

"It's nice to meet you, Marinette. I'm Tim." Tim turned his attention back to Dick, narrowing his eyes. "I"m going to tell Bruce about our guest while you show Marinette to her rooms."

Dick nodded. "Sure, I'll meet you at Bruce's office."

"I hope I'm not causing any trouble," said Marinette once they were alone and making their way to the guest wing.

Dick shook his house. "My brothers have friends over all the time. You're much better behaved than anyone Jason has brought home."

"I'll be on my best behavior," promised Marinette, giving Dick a tentative smile as she brushed one hand against Dick's forearm and the other against the doorknob of the door that would be hers for the night. "Thanks for taking me home."

"No problem," said Dick. As soon as he heard the latch of Marinette's door click he was walking to Bruce's office. Dick was certain that Bruce would have no qualms opening up his house to Marinette once Dick explained her situation. Bruce had a soft spot for kids with dark hair and blue eyes who came from troubled home situations.

All three of his brothers were in Bruce's office by the time Dick entered the room.

"Welcome back, Grayson," Damian spoke first. The neutral look on his brother's face was Dick's first indication that something might have gotten lost in translation when Tim saw him bringing Marinette into the Manor. Looking back, he probably should have warned them ahead of time. Sneaking (though sneaking wasn't necessarily the right word for it since he announced their presence as soon as they got through the door) a drunk girl through the side door might not have been the best idea.

"I heard you brought a friend home with you," said Bruce, his tone aggressively non-judgmental.

Jason wasn't so considerate - his voice was hot with disapproval. "I thought your mission was reconnaissance only. I don't think that bringing home some sleazy drunk girl was a part of that mission."

Dick glowered at Jason, who had been in a bad mood since Bruce discovered and disposed of his stash of cigarettes earlier that week. “Don’t talk about Marinette like that. She didn't have anywhere safe to go, so I brought her here until she finds a place to stay."

"Why don't you take a seat and explain what happened tonight, before we jump to any conclusion." Bruce directed the last part of his statement towards Jason, who pointedly refused to look guilty.

"Marinette is an exchange student from Paris. Her host family has been allowing their daughter to take advantage of her. Lila Rossi has been taking Marinette to parties and plying her with alcohol as some sort of party trick for her friends, knowing that Marinette can't escape the situation without losing her spot in the exchange program. I couldn't, in good conscience, allow Marinette to return home to them, so when she expressed a desire to stay the night somewhere else, I offered up one of the guest bedrooms."

Jason had the decency to look guilty. "I guess I should apologize for jumping to conclusions. Sorry, Dickie Bird. I should've known you wouldn't try anything."

"Is there any way for her to switch host families?" asked Tim, the problem-solver of his brothers.

Dick nodded. "The only issue with her switching host families is that there are none available right now for her to stay with. I'm sure that won't be an issue much longer."

Bruce had his laptop out and was composing an email before Dick finished his sentence. "I'll arrange for our family to be registered as a host family for the Gotham Academy Foreign Exchange Program. Hopefully, we can get this all sorted out soon so that Marinette can move in over the weekend."

Dick grinned. His family might drive him crazy sometimes, but they always pulled through for him in the end. Marinette wouldn't have to worry anymore. His family would keep her safe.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[princecharmingmendes]

Heart by Heart | Chapter IV | Raul Mendes

                                                 *secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this is the fourth chapter, you can find the first one here. This one's a bit shorter but I still hope you like it anyway. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading! 

                                              previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter 

*Word Count: 2.9K+.

*Warnings: cursing, jealousy, mentions of weapons (barely any), slight angst (if you squint). 

Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 

*Posted: July 22nd, 2021.

                                                  -*-

Raul was fucked. 

He learned that ages ago, but every passing day, it just seemed to get more and more fucked. 

Y/N was the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on, he knew that the day he met her all those years ago, while she was still a kid like him. And as the time went on, she proved him wrong every single day, every time he looked at her, in his eyes, Y/N surpassed her own beauty and taking her own title as the pretties one. Raul knew he was a goner the first time he made her laugh, truly laugh, throwing her head back as she almost lost her breath, he knew he would have to do it all over again for the rest of his life just to hear the most beautiful melody ever created. 

And maybe he was a fool, and obvious one for not even holding back whenever she was hurt or needed him. He would give Y/N anything in the world and he could be pretty reckless about it. Sure, Raul was capable of keeping it to himself all these years, even from his spy family and her, but Peter was slowly catching onto it and he knew it. There was a reason why Peter wasn’t a field agent and his not so subtle approaches only proved that right. But he honestly didn’t care, as long as he got to have her as his best friend and best girl, he didn’t give a fuck about what the rest of the world thought. He only cared about Y/N. 

So watching her progress on the ring (hell, having his ass kicked by her was probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him), watching Y/N taking part of such an important role as to plan the mission that would take down one of the biggest criminals on the world left him so proud. He couldn’t even describe it. Watching her sleep peacefully among his bedding, the glimmer of pure and utter happiness whenever she watched one of the marvel movies or ate her favorite cake made butterflies go wild in his stomach. 

And as Aaliyah would say, he was probably a simp for her. As sappy as that sounded, it was probably true. 

“Still with me, champ?” Y/N’s voice ringed on his coms.

Raul had to hold back a smile as Jack smirked at him on their watching point across the street “Always, doll, see anything?”

“Not really” she muttered annoyedly “think the package is late” 

“Oh, sorry the bad guy didn’t show up on the perfect time according to your planner”

“Fuck you, darling, before I forget”

Raul huffed a chuckle as he changed channels on the surveillance system she hacked the night prior. 

He was with Jack sitting on his apartment watching Y/N from the perfect window. The initial plan was pretty simple, Y/N would be dressed in casual common clothes, going through her computer on Genoff’s favorite coffee shop, to possibly catch him after coming back, so he could be used to some of their faces on his absence justifying new people around. Her undercover role was as a graphic designer that pretty much had a home office, which would justify her always being around that area. Tommy was the local barista trainee, summer job to pay for his scholarship, and this way he could hear some stuff and also be ready to jump and protect whoever was undercover there that day.

Celine was working on the front desk on Geonoff’s cover up business building, she was replacing the other girl that just left due to maternity leave, so it wouldn’t look suspicious at all. James got the work as an executive driver on a company that often was hired to transport Geonoff himself and his people, and Raul would also be on home office as a free lancer photographer, he’d be in an untitled relationship with Y/N which would be a good cover for them always being out and about together.

They would all be living in the same neighborhood, Peter and Celine would be living in the same apartment complex, which was just next doors to the one Jack, Y/N and Raul were placed. This way it would still be safe and pretty low profile enough to not draw curious eyes. And since the mission didn’t exactly have a precise deadline, they didn’t have a precise date to actually leave, so their flat was poorly furnished and decorated, filled with the ultimate basic things they could need in a month period. And of course, heavily armed in every corner and drawer anyone could think about.

“He just left his car two blocks away, think he might be just a bit behind your schedule, Y/N” Jack called from his place behind the screens she had set up the night before “Tommy, grab the cash register as soon as you can”

“Yes sir” Tom mumbled under his breath.

Raul inched a bit closer to the window on a spot no one could see him from bellow, watching as Geonoff himself entered the shop with two other man right behind him. Probably security team. He had to hold back his breath once he noticed the way the man had his eyes fixated right on Y/N’s table, before quietly muttering something to the other with him.

“Hm, excuse me miss?” a deep slightly hoarse voice caught her attention from the fake project displayed on her computer screen, Y/N looked up to find Geonoff right next to her booth.

“Oh hi”

“Why is he talking to her? He wasn’t supposed to just approach her!” Raul practically growled to Jack as the other just shrugged in response “fuck” 

“Dude, calm down, Tom is literally just across the bar and she’s a fucking spy, chill, she knows how to handle this” Jack said shoving Raul’s shoulder playfully, to which he just rolled his eyes huffing in annoyance.

“I know, I know that” 

Jack arched his eyebrow at him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips “Is this your way of admitting you love her?” 

“Shut up and pay attention to their conversation, you idiot” Raul said pushing his friend off of his sit. 

“I'm sorry, I just had to ask, I haven’t such a pretty girl like you around in a while, are you new in town, darling?” Geonoff asked leaning his hip against the sit across from Y/N.

“Oh no, not new in town” she responded with a giggle, trying to ease the nerves and slight nausea from talking to him and his half attempt of flirting “I moved to this neighborhood last month though, used to leave on the other side of the town” 

“Oh, was it for work? How are you liking this place so far?”

“It’s nice, I thought it was going to be quieter but it doesn’t really bother me” she said with a soft smile on her features “I moved here because I work from home, so I needed to get out of my last place cause my roommate was not exactly quiet, and my boyfriend said there was an available apartment on his floor, so it just seemed like a great opportunity” 

Raul’s heart raced a bit more on his chest when she referred to him as ‘boyfriend’, which was completely stupid. Y/N was his best friend and this was only for a cover. But sometimes his feelings got the best of him.

“Boyfriend? Is he here?”

“Oh no, I think he’s at work now, he’s a photographer”

“It makes sense, he has the prettiest muse at home” he added with a wink, which made Y/N’s stomach twirl in her tummy, this man is absolutely gross and she just wants to find a way out of this conversation “is he joining you today or should I keep you company?” 

“Tell him I’m on my way, sweetheart, don’t want this man any closer to you” Raul said through coms, Jack already grabbing his backpack with the material they had separated to be Raul’s cover as he threw a denim jacket and a pair of glasses.

Y/N gave Geonoff a gentle smile as she shrugged before adding “he told me he’d be coming here, something about the cupcakes being the best he’s ever had”

“Oh shut up, this is the worst excuse to get me to buy you cupcake ever” Raul muttered through coms as he jogged across the street and Y/N had to cough to hid a little giggle that threatened to escape at her best friend’s comment.

“Yeah, they’re really good, I think you’d like the chocolate one” 

“Okay, thank you for the tip” she said, quickly noticing the mop of curls clumsy coming into the shop, a big grin blossoming on her lips as she waved at the heaving figure of her best friend “oh, there he is!”

Raul’s eyes found hers and he could only smile, forgetting only momentarily that one of the most wanted man in the country was just beside her, he shook his head to gain a bit more focus as he shortened the distance between them with every step “hi baby” 

Y/N got up from her sit and was quick to throw her arms around his neck, as he did the same with her waist, planting a kiss to the crown of her head “Hi, honey this is… Oh my, just realized I never caught your name, I’m sorry, that was so rude”

“Geonoff, darling” he said with a smug smile on his lips, probably waiting some sort of reaction and proud of it.

And to Raul’s amusement, Y/N didn’t move a single muscle, didn’t give a single reaction, only offering a polite smile “Oh, nice name, I’m Y/N and this is my boyfriend, Raul”

“Beautiful name, suits such a gorgeous girl like you” he said, eyes on Raul waiting for some sort of response.

“Oh yeah, she doesn’t like it but I’ve always found it beautiful” he said softly.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys alone now, nice meeting the two of you” Geonoff said as his guards approached him with a paper bag “and Y/N, let me know if you need anything, I’m always around”

“Thank you” she said before pulling Raul to sit by her side on the booth as Geonoff walked out of the little shop “how was your day, honey?”

“Good, angel, got a couple of photos I think you’d like to see whenever we get home” he said throwing his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“You two are gross to watch” Jack grumbled through the coms making them both laugh.

Y/N turned her head to face him “you wanna go home to show me or you want to grab a cup of coffee first?”

“I think I want a bit of coffee, but we can order it to go, yeah?”

“Sure, whatever you want” Y/N said before sliding off the booth and pulling him with her, before stuffing her computer on her little backpack, which Raul promptly took from her.

“Come on, baby, can’t wait to lay down a bit” he ushered her to the register, where Tom waited patiently for them “hello there, I’d like an espresso please” 

“Sure, anything else?” Tommy asked as he clicked on the little screen.

“Do you want anything, baby?”

“A red velvet cupcake to go, please”

Tom nodded looking a little nervous before speaking up “the other man with the security guards left this note and cupcake for you, ma’am” he then grabbed the little pastry and a fancy business card alongside it.

“Oh, I- are you sure it was for me?” she asked in disbelief as Raul tightened his arm around her.

Tom only nodded in response “positive, do you still want the red velvet one?”

“I- yes, please” Y/N let out before almost chocking on air, gently grabbing the card that contained the business information from his company (that she already had) and a little handwritten phrase next to a phone number, the note read ‘if you’re ever looking for a real man, let me know’. 

“Someone’s got a crush on you” Raul teased trying to mask the anger bubbling up on his throat, but he knew she saw right through his facade. After all, Y/N knew him better than anyone else.

“Well, I feel bad for him, because I’m already taken, yeah?” she giggled at herself, lightly poking his chest to try and loosen his nerves a bit.

“Yeah, since I have you, know that I’m never letting you go” Raul pressed a kiss to her head huffing a small chuckle.

“Here it is, sir” Tom cut Raul out before handing him the paper bag, and he placed the money on Tom’s hand.

Raul offered a smile as he lead Y/N back to their place “Thank you, take care, kid” 

As they were crossing the street, Y/N dropped the cupcake from Geonoff on the sidewalk, making it look like an accident as she cried out an ‘oh no, I can’t believe I dropped it!’ before tossing it on the bin. On the elevator to their apartment, Raul still seemed tense and too quiet for his normal self, but Y/N decided to drop it, maybe give him some time to deal with today.

Just as they opened the door, Jack was quick to pull them inside, grabbing the card from Y/N’s hand and tossing it into a special bag and running downstairs, probably to deliver it to a team so they could take it to the lab to run some tests. Celine was stretched on the couch, a knowing look in her eyes as she signaled for them to join her. Raul went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water in complete silence as Y/N sank down on the soft cushions with Celine.

“What’s wrong with him?” she muttered quietly, since there were no walls separating the rooms on this flat, only the bedroom and bathroom and Raul was standing pretty close.

Y/N sighed with a shrug “No clue, maybe just didn’t expect the interaction to go like that, I don’t know”

“By the way, you did great, he even got interested in you” 

“Ew, no need to remind me, seriously that man is just gross, there’s something about him that’s just creepy, and I’m not even bringing up his criminal record” Y/N added grabbing a bottle water that Raul tossed at her after she nodded at him.

Celine nodded in understanding “Don't blame you, I think I would’ve punched him five seconds into talking”

“You wouldn’t last a single second with him talking” Jack said as he closed the door behind him.

Y/N and Celine laughed as Raul joined them on the couch, sitting on the armrest right behind Y/N as she leaned her weight on him. He threw an arm around her. 

“I think we should order a pizza and have some beer, yeah? This was a successful day, Tom’s gonna be here any minute now and Raul didn’t die out of jealousy in 24h, only reasons to celebrate!”

“Don’t start celebrating now, Jack, he might combust at any second now” Celine said with a laugh and Y/N giggled shaking her head, looking up at him only to see his serious expression and a light pink tinting his cheeks.

“So, pizza and beer it is?” Jack asked pulling his phone.

“I think it’s a great idea” Tom said as he climbed through the back window.

“Okay, Jack, order the pizzas and grab us the beer” Y/N decided and Jack stared at her in shock.

“Why me?!”

“So you can do something useful for once instead of gossiping” Raul said playfully and Y/N smiled at that as Jack feigned hurt with a dramatic gasp. 

“Well, there’s that and the fact that this genius idea belongs to you, doesn’t it?” Y/N asked 

Jack stared at her and nodded “Well yeah but-“

“Then make it happen, darling” Y/N only threw a wink at him and he shook his head, but grabbing his phone to start ordering. 

“Hey Tom, can I see the piece you brought back?” Celine asked without moving from her place on the couch. 

Y/N took the opportunity to properly face Raul since the others were seemingly busy, so she cupped his face gently bringing his attention down at her “are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course I am, doll” he said turning his face to place a kiss at the palm of her hand before looking back at her. 

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem fine five minutes ago”

“I just didn’t think he’d take such an interest on you so soon, I mean, you’re insanely gorgeous so it was obvious he was going to notice you, I guess I was just unconsciously hoping he wouldn’t” Raul sighed leaning his head against her hand and she let it slide on his face until she was able to curl her fingers on his hair “it’s stupid, I’m sorry, I was just being stupid yeah? Let’s focus on something else and relax”

“Are you sure?” she asked tugging on his hair a bit as he closed his eyes, nodding his head softly and she sighed “okay”

                                                  -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

[cheerypining]

Appearance HCs (Brothers)

I've seen some comments ab how I draw the boys and wanted to get it written out how I percieve their designs! Do forgive how disorganized these are ;;

Lucifer

I'll admit, I don't draw Lucifer often, but I do have at least some thoughts ab him!

No visible blemishes, but considering how much he works I always assume it's a makeup thing, so when I draw him he tends to look very tidy and perfect, but I hc that he has dark circles that he tries to cover up.

I'm sorry but I can't in good conscience believe his height in the chart. He gives me petite muscular vibes. I tend to give him some kind of discreet heel.

He has the ghost of a six-pack, you only see it if he really flexes.

He's one of those people that has a soft face, but makes up for it with like, terrifying eyes. His expressions completely transform his face.

Speaking of expressions, I imagine he's very expressive regardless of the face he's making.

Mammon

Perfect skin. He doesn't try at all. No blemishes whatsoever.

All slim and lean muscle, none of the bulging muscles someone like Beel would have but he has obvious shape to him. No six-pack for Mammon. He's slim straight down to his fingers.

I will say, this man has very nice legs. He runs a lot for various reasons, most of them not exercise.

This man is PETITE and he dresses for someone slightly larger than him, almost everything he wears fits loose on him. It makes him look smaller.

Even when he's mad, he's the least threatening person in the room. He's strong and he's tough but he's not much of a fighter. He doesn't really have an angry face or if he does, it's not a good one.

Resting sweet face

White eyelashes. They wouldn't show on a lot of people, but they stand out against his skin. His eyelashes are very full, eyebrows are on the slimmer side though.

Leviathan

He's not particularly tall, but he is skinny, which gives him the appearance of being lanky without being obscenely tall. Long in every aspect, face (to a degree), hands, legs etc.

Slim muscle, but not much. He's a good swimmer, sure, but without the aid of his powers he isn't winning any athletics competitions.

Extremely pale. So pale. He has the faintest dusting of freckles that pop up when he goes outside, but he usually sunburns before they come out much.

Appears shorter than he is because he has horrible posture. When he gets angry he stands at full height and you'd swear he grows a foot taller.

Dresses very lazily. If it isn't comfy he won't wear it. If he goes out he makes an effort but at home he's always in that jacket and it's a 50/50 chance he's wearing some kind of sweatpants.

A lot of people describe him as having a bowl cut, but I disagree. I had the same hair as him and it'd be disingenuous to say he had one lol! I see his hair as an overgrown version of a decent haircut. He probably has to be dragged out to get his hair cut.

Asmodeus

Pale in a healthy way, lots of healthy color to his skin. Tries to limit the coverage of makeup on his face because he's proud of his skin. That 3 hour skin routine pays off, ok??? Almost always has some kind of light color on his lips.

"Dude, your brother is gnc af"

He has a strong body but less like the others, it's clear he does a lot of yoga. He's very flexible and well-toned.

He almost never has the same hair style. Even if he has braids two days in a row they'll be different kinds of braids.

His eyelashes aren't particularly full but they're very nice. He doesn't usually wear any kind of mascara. However, Asmo tends to touch up his eyebrows, they aren't very prominent.

Always posing in case someone takes a picture.

Beelzebub

Beefy. BEEFY. It's canon and y'know what, I agree. He's ripped. He looks very soft, but the moment he moves or flexes a muscle, it's clear how defined each muscle is. All of his muscles are practical, no bodybuilder show muscles.

He's also huge. His hands are gigantic. He may not be 7ft tall, but between his presence and his general size, he is a very big boy.

Very soft but very masculine. He isn't a big square, but everything on him is defined. Somewhat round face.

He has wild eyebrows that Asmodeus picks at incessantly and though they aren't too big, his eyebrows are very full and prominent.

He gets a lot of sun, brings out the odd freckle or two.

Cuts his own hair, styles his own hair.

Always has little knicks on his hands and arms.

Belphegor

You can't convince me that he doesn't have raccoon eyes. Permanent dark circles.

The babiest of faces, he's very cute. Unlike Mammon he can be very intimidating. Looks like he could kill you, would kill you.

He's a little on the squishy side but nothing much. There's muscle somewhere because he works out with Beel, but it's hidden in a layer of chub. He has a bit of a belly but everyone just finds him cute.

He stares a lot and blinks less than he should. His eyes are the kind you can feel on your back when you pass by. 50/50 on whether or not he has heavy eyelids at any given time.

Looks grumpy. Is grumpy.

Also has overgrown hair, it gets long pretty fast, but Beel cuts it for him when he cuts his own hair.

He's good at tidying his hair but always has that one odd spot that didn't quite get tamed after he woke up.

Satan

Tidy, tidy, tidy. He's always fixing his clothes and hair. His teeth are obnoxiously white but he doesn't smile with them often. His hands can feel very rough because he washes them constantly.

His hair is cut regularly, it's always fresh and tidy. He never has any facial hair or shadowing on his face. His eyebrows are well-manicured, though he won't talk about it he spends a long time getting ready.

Wears a bare minimum of makeup, nothing obvious.

Wears glasses but not as open as he should. The glasses are definitely square.

Nothing he owns is currently fashionable but he doesn't like to clothes shop so he holds onto them. Lots of colors that don't really look that good on him.

[snow-leopard-7772point0]

I'll Change My Crown, from Light to Dark

The akuma landed on Marinette's windowsill, the girl not even noticing as she sat in the tattered remnants of her designs. Luckily she had dropped off most of her completed works the day before to be delivered to the appropriate patrons, though everything she had yet to send off was ripped, cut, burned, there wasn't a scrap of cloth that was usable for anything but as a guide for buying more. Her sketchbook was in shreds on the floor, paper scattered like confetti over the remaining slivers of all her hard work. 

The akuma danced in place. It's master was urging it to go forward, to possess the girl, but… there were so many objects to choose from! Should it just possess the entire room? The sewing machine? One little scrap of fabric? A piece of paper? What about her emotions? This butterfly had made some of the strongest akumas to date, though the strength behind her feelings was astromically larger than any other person they had targeted. The little insect itself was slightly afraid to act as a bridge for her. It finally flew forward, choosing the scraps of the dress the girl had been making herself for the Wayne gala.

Marinette froze when her emotions intensified, hearing Hawkmoth cooing in her ear. "Greetings, Mistress Hawthorne. They all accuse you of being the bully, of being a liar, never paying attention to the proof you give them. They destroyed your designs, your livelihood, and expect to get away scott free.  I'm giving you the ability to turn all your ruined dreams into hawthorn bushes that force people to see the truth, whether they can accept it or not. No more hiding behind lies or masks, everyone will have to be honest and pay for their crimes. All I ask in return is for Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous."

"I refuse, Hawkmoth "

The villain froze for a second. Only one other person had ever resisted him so easily, and that was due to her love for Ladybug. Nothing about Marinette Dupain-Cheng screamed that she truly cared for the heroes, so why would she resist? He was giving her the perfect way to get revenge! If he didn't fear that it would give the heroes a clue to his identity, he wouldn't have even asked for the Miraculous for this offence! "Why do you refuse? Imagine how great it will feel, trapping them in their castle with your thorns until the truth comes out!"

"Oh, make no mistake, revenge will be divine. But I'm already looking at little to no sleep for the foreseeable future so that I can press charges against them, email all my patrons whose clothes were destroyed about the delay, buy all the fabric to remake their outfits, and get my own dress together for the Wayne gala. Luckily I'm not starting completely over with it, their mindless destruction gave me an idea for my dress, but there is still much to do. I have no time to become an akuma, I have to get to work immediately, and it will be tomorrow before my classmates are all in the same place again."

"What… what if I didn't ask for the Miraculous in return, and you miss a few days of school to get everything completed?

"While missing school may become a necessity before everything is over and done with, I still have much to do. It would take far too long to force the truth out of Lila Rossi, and I am uncertain if Ladybug's Miracle Cure would erase any progress I made on designing as an akuma. You seem like a reasonable businessman, I'm sure you understand."

"Ah, yes, I do, actually. Cut me some slack here, I've been trying to akumatize you for over a year now! What kind of cloth are you cut from?"

"A different kind from my classmates. I refuse to stoop to their level. Besides, I have pride in the fact that I am not helpless, and the costumes I see akumatized people in are atrocious. Please have a nice day, but I do need to get to work."

"I-very well then. Good luck. Please at least make your classmates suffer."

Marinette's smirk alone was fuel to create a fear-based akuma. "They'll pay. But on my terms." The purple butterfly left her dress, and Marinette caught herself as she slumped to the floor. Resisting Hawkmoth had taken much more out of her than she had anticipated.

⏳

Gabriel rose from the underground room, surprising Nathalie. "Sir, surely she didn't-"

"No, Nathalie, she didn't loose. She didn't even accept my offer. I even offered to not require the Miraculous this time, but she still refused. Her mental strength is highly admirable, especially when her guard is at its lowest. She would be a great asset to us."

"In what manner?"

"Any way I can get her. She is one of the best designers I have seen in a long time, especially at her age. I caught a glimpse of her revenge plan when my akuma possessed her and it was astoundingly terrible, and she is kind and independent enough to make an amazing daughter."

"Sir, kidnapping is illegal."

"I don't have to kidnap her, I'll throw Adrien at her." Gabriel started to wave his hand in dismissal, then noticed the look on Nathalie's face.

"Sir, I think you should watch the rest of this." Nathalie walked forward, bringing up the video from earlier. Gabriel had only watched a second of it before rushing to his butterflies, it was easy to recognize the girl's room by her designs. He'd been gunning for her since she lied to him to help keep Adrien in school and made the feathered hat. Her spirit and dedication let him know that she could be a great ally or terrible enemy. She didn't (yet) have the money or power to come after Gabriel Agreste on her own, but he was certain that the girl was being considered for a Miraculous. He knew she didn't already have one, she hadn't responded to Miracle Queen, after all, but several of her classmates had used one. He actually paid attention to the video this time, watching all the way through. The first people seen on camera were the blogger girl and Lila Rossi, several other classmates cropping up through the video. He didn't notice Timebreaker, Evilillstrator, or the Bourgeois girl, though he did see his own son halfway through the recording, happily cutting at a gown that had been carefully beaded with a hawthorn pattern with a pair of scissors, cutting off the beads and chunks of fabric. 

Gabriel's frown deepened. "Cut all ties to Lila Rossi immediately. We will be making a public apology, telling the public that we did not know of her abhorrent tendencies, nor did we expect her to pull Adrien into her schemes. Adrien will be appropriately punished, and we will offer Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng compensation for the destruction of her property, along with a small team of designers that will know to make every stitch to her preference, no matter their opinion on the piece."

"Of course, sir. How would you like to make your statement to the public?"

"Call that news anchor, Najda Chamack, and ask her to come here. I will speak to her in person as soon as she is available. I also want the apology posted to every social media outlet we use, including our official website."

"Sir, is this not overkill? This isn't Audrey Bourgeois."

Gabriel glared at Nathalie. "No, she is not. She designs for more famous people than Audrey does. She is the main designer for the Wayne gala this year. Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Tsurugi Tomoe, even the Wayne's commissioned her work. All of her designs are paid for in a split payment plan, the money for the materials is required upfront while the rest of the payment can wait until after the person received their design to make sure it is what they want. That means there will very likely be several highly influential individuals and families gunning for us because of Rossi and my son."

Nathalie paled. She hadn't imagined that the small girl who stumbled and stuttered every time she saw her would have that kind of power backing her. Everyone knew that the girl had Jagged Stone backing her, MDC was his main designer for everything and anyone who personally met the girl and the rocker knew who MDC was, especially since they were supposed to have their identity reveal at the Wayne gala. Jagged Stone by himself would be bad and the company would take a hit, though she was positive Marinette would stop him before he went too far. But with so many others working with Jagged… Gabriel (the company) would not survive. 

"I will get everything arranged." Nathalie quickly left the office.

⏳ 

Marinette's first order of business was to email all of the clients affected by her classmates's actions. She informed them that they did not need to worry, as she was suing all the students for the costs of what they destroyed- not just materials, but labor as well, and would be buying new material for their clothes out of her own pocket until she got retribution. She also informed them that their orders would come in slightly later than planned, though not by much. Clara, Jagged, Kagami and her mother, and the Wayne's all responded to her email with assurances that things happened and to take her time. Bruce Wayne offered to delay the gala so that she would have plenty of time to rectify the situation, though she was quick to assure him that it was not necessary.

Her next order of business was cleanup. She collected every scrap of fabric big enough to make so much as a small patch or strip and sat them in a small box next to where her personal dress was. Everything else was collected and thrown in the trash. She dug out her receipts for all the fabrics destroyed, including the fabrics for projects intended for her classmates. She quickly pulled up the video Alya had posted, writing down who destroyed what. She matched the fabrics to the people, then calculated the time she would have spent on each piece. She reviewed the video one more time, noticing that none of the art students, including Chloè, were in the video. Though it was to be expected. The whole class knew how important all art was to the art students; those students would have stopped them if they were in the know. Chloè was not only in the art club, but also still exiled from the class, though her relationship with Marinette had gone from bully to ally. They still weren't friends, but they stuck together against most of the class, only Nathaniel and Alix leaving them alone. The class may have had five braincells in the entire room, Chloè, Marinette, Alix, and Nathaniel each having one all to themselves while the rest of the class, including Madame Bustier, shared the other one, but they used that one braincell to know who could be brought in on a scheme like this.

Marinette had just finished calculating who she would she for what and was on her way to buy fabrics when her phone rang. She grabbed it as she opened her hatch, activating her recording app as she answered. "Hello?"

"Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, it has come to my attention that Adrien Agreste and Lila Rossi have vandalized your property. Lila Rossi has already been terminated and Adrien will face suitable punishment for his actions. I wish for you to come by the manor at your earliest convenience for us to discuss payment."

"If you're free now, I was just about to head out."

"Of course. I'll send a car for you."

"Merci, Monsieur Agreste." Marinette pocketed her phone and made copies of the expenses each of her classmates would be charged. She had no way of knowing where, exactly, Gabriel Agreste stood, but she refused to leave anything to chance. The original, along with the receipts, was stored in her diary box while one copy was left on her desk and another found its home in her purse. She stopped by the kitchen to inform her parents that she was headed to the Agreste Manor and would explain later before walking out to wait on the car.

⏳

Adrien was smiling after school. He had never realized how freeing it was to tear clothes apart, especially clothes made by someone who refused to listen to him. Marinette deserved everything she got, plus some. He wondered what of hers he could destroy next.

He was surprised when he returned home to see his father glaring at him from in front of the stairwell. "We need to have a talk, son." The designer's voice promised pain. "About your friends and actions today."

Adrien stared at his father, confused. "Why? What happened?"

Gabriel growled. "Nathalie."

"Sir?"

"Show him the video, then leave us to our discussion."

"Yes sir." Nathalie quickly pulled up the video of the class destroying Marinette's designs and held the tablet out to Adrien before taking her leave. 

Adrien watched the video, unable to understand what had angered his father. "Do you understand what you have done?" Gabriel demanded.

Adrien shrugged. "I got payback. She wouldn't listen to me when I told her to lay low, so I decided to help the class teach her a lesson."

Gabriel coldly glared at his son. "You have cost me over a thousand dollars just in the hours that girl put into her work. That does not include the cost of the materials, deformation of private property, or potential unlawful entry and vandalism charges. How do you know that Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng is not currently an akuma gunning for your head? Or that her clients aren't going to press charges? Her clientele could ruin your entire class, your entire school, with a single phone call."

Adrien scoffed. "She doesn't have that many big clients. Just Jagged Stone. And Marinette can't get akumatized. She's too stubborn to listen to anyone."

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Adrien, I'll tell you this as your classmate is revealing it in less than a month. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been taking the world of fashion by storm while using her initials, MDC. Only certain celebrities and rich people know who she is, mainly people she has worked or designed for. Jagged Stone is the first and main one, yes. But Clara Nightingale has been using her more and more. MDC is the main designer for the Wayne gala, not only Monsieur Stone and Mademoiselle Nightingale commissioning her, but the Tsurugi family and the Wayne family, along with several friends and supporters of the four families. Aubrey Bourgeois supports her, perhaps even more than she supports me, and I have admired several of her pieces done for contests."

Blood began to drain from Adrien's face, though Gabriel doubted that the boy fully understood anything yet. "Her mother's best friend is Najda Chamack, and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng babysits her child. Her uncle is a famous chef who loves his family dearly, especially since his great niece learned Mandarin to be able to talk to him and help him with his French. Alix Kubdel is friends with Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, and also comes from a respectable family- as well as Chloè Bourgeois becoming her ally after she helped with her mother. Not to mention that the Dupain-Cheng family is not hurting for money, as they are the best and most popular bakery in Paris. They get orders from all over the city, plus serve at almost every party that has edible food. You attacked the livelihood of one of the most powerful children in Paris. Not only that, but you destroyed the property of some of the most prolific people in the world." Adrien's face had lost all traces of blood, though Gabriel did not expect it to be from shame. No, his son was afraid because he had been caught. "You will not return to school until Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng has revealed herself as MDC to the world, nor will you have access to any of your social media, messages, or phone. You may return to being homeschooled. I shall have to reassess the situation at a later date. If I do allow you to return to school, it will not be François-DuPont. You will drop contact with your current classmates. You are dismissed." Gabriel turned from his son, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

⏳

Marinette was escorted straight to Gabriel's office upon arrival. The man shook her hand before gesturing for her to take a seat. "Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, my assistant showed me the video of what your classmates did. My sincerest apologies. I assure you that my son is currently being punished and Mademoiselle Rossi's contract has been terminated. I also wanted to offer you compensation for your loss as well as a team of designers that will follow your instructions to the last stitch."

Marinette eyed the elder Agreste. "What do you want in return?"

Gabriel blinked at the girl. He knew she was smart, though he hadn't expected her to ask that. "For this? Nothing. My son deserves every lawsuit you draw up. I remember what it was like when I was first starting my company; something like this would have been devistating."

"Well, Monsieur, covering everything will not be necessary. I have already calculated the damages each student did and how much they owe for it. I am not holding you responsible for the actions of any of my classmates, not even Agreste or Rossi. I'm sure you have paid your son for working for you," Marinette felt viciously victorious when he nodded, "in which case he should be able to pay for damages himself. The same holds true for Rossi; she was a contract model for your company and was paid as such. They should both be able to afford my work- custom or not."

"Might I see what you've drawn up? I heard from Aubrey that you have a tendency to undercharge for your work, and, as you just said, my son and former employee should be able to afford your work. The beaded dress my son ruined, for example, should cost twenty-five hundred dollars, bare minimum. I would charge much more than that, especially with how much work is put behind hand-beading." Marinette could do nothing but gape at her childhood idol. She had been expecting a bribe, a threat, something to try to protect his son.

She pulled the paper out of her purse when he raised an eyebrow, pulling the video up on her phone. "Césaire was stupid enough to put her phone in the corner where I could track everyone's movements, and I can figure everything out if I can get Markov. I figured out who destroyed what and calculated what they owe from there. I don't know who picked the lock to the upper floors, or to my room, though my money's on either Césaire or Rossi. Césaire's obsessed with being a great reporter while Rossi is a liar and a thief. Harleprè, Lavaillant, Bruel, Couffaine, and Lahiffe owe the least, they didn't do much. They just ripped a few pages out of my sketchbook. Raincompx, le Chein, Césaire, Rossi, Agreste, and Kantè did the most damage, and so will face the bigger lawsuits. I have already contacted my clients and informed them of the slight delay. Your team of designers, while most appreciated, will not be necessary. It shouldn't take me more than a few days to recreate the Wayne's suits and send them off, I sent the dresses yesterday. Jagged and Clara will both be in Paris next week and can stop by my house to pick up their outfits and have a final fitting. I can easily deliver the Tsurugi chensogams to their home. That covered everyone that had their outfits for the gala destroyed. I had finished the majority of them yesterday and done the final checks before sending them off. I was supposed to send the Wayne suits off today, though that plan was foiled. I was lucky that I went ahead and finished my commissions rather than more personal projects. Most of what got destroyed were projects my classmates requested of me rather than important works."

"Are you positive you don't want help? At least on your beaded dress?"

Marinette pulled up pictures of what she had. "I have several different scraps of colors, most of them either on the darker end of the spectrum or metalic, from the works they destroyed. I'm going to use those scraps from my other works to make a pair of wings on the back of the dress, the colors getting darker the further down they go and metalic fabrics making the outline of the wings."

Gabriel considered the dress. "You'll look like a fallen angel. I hope you're still planning on charging my son the full amount for the dress."

"Most definitely. There will be some alterations I make besides the wings, putting some pieces back together, cutting or tearing others, partially rebeading sections, I have some work to put in. Your son added to my work load when it was already full, he personally destroyed not only my dress but Jagged and Penny's outfits as well. Might I know what punishment he is suffering?"

"So you can plan revenge accordingly?" Gabriel questioned. He sighed at her innocent expression. "He will no longer attend François-DuPont. He will basically be under house arrest for everything except shoots until after the gala. I am undecided as to whether he shall go to another school or be permanently homeschooled. He is not allowed any contact with his former classmates nor access to social media or his phone. So if you wish to strike, do it right after a photo shoot. You can do it before or during as long as you don't ruin the clothes on display."

Marinette's grin was pure evil. "Don't worry, Monsieur Agreste. I have too much respect for the work designers put into their work to be so crass. Will Agreste still practice fencing with Kagami?"

"I shall allow it on a trial basis."

"Very well. It was nice meeting with you, Monsieur Agreste, but I must take my leave. I have too much to do before I traumatize, I mean get payback, I mean revenge, wait, no, deal with my classmates after the gala. But before I go… You wouldn't happen to know anyone that would be able to teach me how to, how should I phrase this… I guess basically be an Ice Queen?"

Gabriel smirked. "Actually, my nephew, Felix Graham de Vanily, will be at the gala. He's a model from England, and many consider him an Ice King. He'd be a great teacher." And perhaps potential mate to bring you into the family. I wonder how many love akumas it would take to get you two together… perhaps Adrien needs a good influence his age around the Manor…

Marinette slightly felt as though she had signed her future away, though that was ridiculous so she simply thanked Gabriel before leaving.

⏳

The next few days flew by in a rush of designing and lawyers. The lawyers her parents got were more than willing to come to the bakery and talk to Marinette as she sewed, especially since she had eyeballed them and given them all scarves and beanies the next time they were there. Marinette didn't bother to pay attention in Bustier's class, electing to nap instead. She was awake for Mendeleiev's classes, though. She liked her dragon-like teacher as the woman actually taught her students. She managed to finish her clients' clothes with time to spare, having gotten so used to designing for Jagged, Penny, and Clara that very few adjustments needed to be made. A couple Wayne suits had come back with notes on where they needed to be adjusted and how, and those were shipped back out that same day. Her own dress took until the last minute, Marinette completely finishing it, including adjustments, the day before she was set to leave for the gala. She would be staying with Jagged and Penny in the Wayne Manor for the two weeks she was to be there, a week before the gala and a week after. Her classmates's parents were horrified to hear what their children had done, making sure the kids paid every penny of what Marinette was suing for without even going to court. Alix and Nathaniel had nearly gotten in trouble with their families, though Marinette was quick to personally visit and explain things. Apparently the other families had contacted the Kurtzburg's and Kubdel's about the scandal with the children, no one noticing that some of the children weren't involved.

She already had her traveling designing kit packed so that she could make sure the Wayne's outfits all fit properly. Chloè and Kagami were traveling with her, determined to make sure their former rival was well taken care of while their parents took care of the hotel. Jagged was fuming beside Marinette whole they rode through Gotham, the girl talking to her friends.

"So, Mari-hime, you told me that you would explain what was going on if Adrien refused to before we left." 

Marinette gave Kagami a highly stressed smile. "I think watching the video would explain things better. I didn't want you to get akumatized because of me while we were in Paris."

"So you knew Adrien would refuse to tell me what crime he committed against you. What video?"

Marinette pulled it up on her tablet. "For the record, I simply suspected that he would keep his mouth shut. Though Monsieur Agreste is making sure that his interactions with anyone besides himself, Madame Sancouer, and his bodyguard are highly limited." She passed Kagami the tablet, Chloè leaning over to watch it with her.

The Japanese girl dropped the tablet in her lap as she watched, clenching her fists so hard that her palms bled. "How- how dare that baka! They all have no honor! They should meet my blade!"

"Kagami. Calm down. I have it handled. I want you and Chloè to teach me how to be a vengeful Ice Queen while we're here. Monsieur Agreste suggested talking to his nephew for lessons as well. By the time I'm back in Paris, I don't want our classmates to be able to recognize me. I already have some revenge planned, the wheels for those are already in motion. I messaged the Césaire and Lahiffe families to inform the entire family that I will be unable to babysit for them for the foreseeable future. Ambassador Rossi has a request in her inbox to visit the school while we are gone, as Rossi's classmates would love to hear about what it's like to be an ambassador. The le Chein family was sent a list of tutors for their son's failing grades, unfortunately all those tutors work at the same time as mandatory swim practice. I sent Luka a copy of the video, so Kitty Section is about to loose their lead guitarist so that he can learn under my dear uncle. Agreste will be facing a startling amount of bad luck for a good chunk of time whilst loosing all of his beloved friends. By the time I am finished, even Hawkmoth won't want to work with them."

Chloè stared at her friend. "Did you really just say 'whilst?' Who hurt you? I just want to talk."

Jagged continued to sulk. "She won't even let me send my rockin followers after those bloody rats. She's only letting me steal away a new guitarist!"

"Because I have everything planned out. And Agreste will become even more isolated once we return. No matter what I say, Kagami is going to duel him to the, figurative, death before informing him of her distaste for him and his actions."

Kagami mock glared at Marinette. "So what if I do? He deserves it. He deserves much worse. But how will he become more isolated? I will still be sparring with him twice a week."

"A person is more isolated surrounded by people that don't care about them than all on their own. Yes, you will physically be there. But your obvious emotional distance will leave him more isolated than him being stuck in his room all day."

Chloè stared at her new friend. "Where was all this evil cunningness when I was your bully?"

Marinette smirked. "I had a wake-up call. Césaire, ironically, taught me that it's okay to stand up for myself, and Hawkmoth helped release a part of me I had blocked out."

"What? Were you akumatized? How did I not know?" Chloè demanded.

Marinette waved her hand dismissively. "It was a few days before we actually became friends, and he didn't manage to akumatize me. He possessed my dress, but I refused to work with him. Apparently he's wanted to akumatize me for a while, but I'm good at forcing myself to calm down."

"What was he going to call you?" Chloè was highly excited to finally have someone who knew what it was like to fully resist Hawkmoth. Not calm down before the butterfly reached them, not resist for a second before giving in, but fully resist the man.

"Mistress Hawthorne." Marinette laughed. "I was going to have the ability to turn my ruined dreams into hawthorn bushes that would trap everyone in their castle and force them to see the truth." Marinette had to stop, she was laughing so hard. "I told him no, and he was so shocked that he only argued for a second before wishing me luck with revenge!"

Jagged continued to sulk through the teens laughter, refusing to give in. He wanted to crush those bloody teens. No one gets away with hurting his niece.

⏳

As soon as she arrived at the manor and had her bags unpacked, Marinette began tracking down the Wayne's, one by one, and dragging them back to her room with their suits or dresses, forcing them to put them on so that she could fully alter them to her preference. Dick was scared of the tiny Asian girl that slung him over her shoulder before grabbing his suit and forcing him to come with her when he hesitated and then worked silently, ignoring his attempts at friendship. He was so scared of her that he sprinted the other direction the first time he saw Kagami. Jason and Bruce both wanted to adopt the girl- she blended in perfectly with their family, and Jason had witnessed both, the girl's kidnapping of his brother and Dick running away from Kagami. He had to respect someone who could instill more fear than Demon Spawn himself, and Bruce wanted to cultivate that talent until he got a Nightingale. Damian and Cass both respected the girl for her professionalism and silence (and word of her traumatizing Dick had already spread through the manor). Tim instantly fell in love with the girl, as she asked him if he wanted coffee or tea while they were doing his fitting, as he looked dead on his feet (he did not choose both or cry tears of joy, and no one can prove to Alfred that he did). Selina purred at the amount of pure chaos she could feel pouring off of the girl, even with her suppressing it while she worked. She needed a kitten. Bruce already had his litter, it was her turn. Kor'i bounced in place the whole time, trying not to inturupt the girl as she adjusted her glorious creation.

Jagged disappeared with Bruce after his fitting, explaining to the billionaire what Marinette had been going through, even showing him the video of her work getting destroyed, before asking for his help to get revenge. He explained Marinette's known plans, and the rocker and vigilante began planning around hers, using their collective contacts and knowledge to open the class's wounds even deeper.

Dinner that night was chaos. Jason, Selina, Bruce, and Jagged were in a constant argument, with Penny occasionally interjecting, that abruptly cut off any time Marinette drew near, she was only able to catch the words adoption and revenge, Kagami and Cass spent their time in silence, eyeing each other. Chloè didn't breathe while swapping between berating Dick and Tim for their fashion choices and interigating them about Gotham and its foreign student transfer policies. Damian scowled at everyone the entire time from his seat next to Marinette. Marinette did her best to emulate him, not noticing Dick slowly sliding his chair further and further away from her.

Damian decided he liked tolerated Marinette five days into her stay. Dick had been complaining to him and Jason about how much Asian girls scared him and Kor'i wanting them to live with them. Marinette had somehow heard his complaints and came storming up to them, cussing Dick out in a mixture of French, Mandarin, Arabic, Italian, and English. Damian did not know why that caused a blush to creep up his face, though he admired the way her accent curled around the words, making everything seem like a language all of its own. 

Jason chuckled when she walked off. "That. That was the art of cussing at its finest. I'm getting Alfed and we're going to go teach my new little sister how to shoot guns. Angel's my favorite, you can all suck it." Jason walked off in the same direction the girl had left in. It didn't take but forty-two minutes for the sound of gunfire to echo around the house. 

⏳

The night before the gala, the women in Wayne Manor gathered in Marinette's room. The night was spent coaching her on how to act and reveal her identity, both on the carpet and during the gala.

"Don't fret so much, kit." Selina advised. "You are a queen, act as such. Keep you head up and keep your cool. They'll all be tripping over themselves to speak to you, and you don't give them the time of day." Chloè nodded her agreement, even as Kagami objected.

"You're approachable and professional at the same time. Just let people see both sides of you."

The women continued to argue, Marinette finally escaping to talk to Alfred. She spent the night under his tutelage, learning all she could about presentation. The man finally ushered her off to bed. "You have a long day tomorrow. You will need sleep to get through it."

⏳

Once arriving at the gala, Marinette kept her head high as she glided down the carpet, the press quickly stopping her to ask if she was a new Wayne and what happened to her dress. "No." She offered a small smile to them. "I'm the designer MDC. The Wayne's hired me to design their suits, and were kind enough to offer their home to me and my aunt and uncle, even letting two of my best friends, Tsurugi Kagami and Chloè Bourgeois, spend the majority of their time with me at the Manor. My parents live in France, where I will be returning to in a weeks time. My room was broken into a few weeks ago, and some of my classmates ruined the outfits I had in there, including my dress. I decided to take what they did to my dress and use it as proof that nothing will bring me down. Excuse me, I need to go. I do not wish to keep my companions waiting." Marinette offered them a small bow before leaving them, giving the press a good look at the drooping angel wings sewn on the back of her dress.

"Angel," One of the reporters breathed, leading to a frenzy. MDC was announced to the world that night as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Angel of Gotham.

⌛

Finding her group was easy, and it was almost just as easy to spot Felix, Gabriel's nephew. She grabbed Damian by his forearm, the boy too startled by her random action to react, and drug him over to the boy she assumed was Felix.

She tapped.the boy on his shoulder. "Excuse me, are you Felix?"

The boy gave a hesitant nod. "Great! I want the two of you to teach me as much as you can about being a vengeful Ice Queen."

Felix raised one eyebrow, looking between the girl and the scowling boy. "What do we get out of it?"

"You get to live with the knowledge that I am going to use your teachings to traumatize idiotic classmates and I can keep the girls from making passes at you, as you are already occupied with entertaining a lady."

The boys both quickly gave their consent, refusing to let the girl leave their side for even a moment the entirety of the gala. They were appeased enough with the girl that her lessons continued throughout the following week, the boys enchanted enough with her to seriously consider following her to Paris and watching her strike like a coiled viper.

⌛

When Marinette returned to school, she had changed. Not just in personality, no, she changed everything. Her personality (at school), her hairstyle, her clothes, everything was redone to fit who she had become. Flowy black pants, a black sleeveless top held up by a ribbon that wrapped around her neck, a red leather jacket loosley hung on her frame, and black boots could be seen under the pants.. Her gaze was frozen as it swept over the class. She was unsurprised to see Adrien sitting in his usual seat, Gabriel had informed her of his decision to place Adrien back in Bustier's class for the time being so that Marinette could teach him a lesson. Alix and Nathaniel had transfered out of the class as soon as they had learned of what the students had done, moving to Madame Mendeleiev's class. Chloè was also leaving, though she was transferring to Gotham after the week was up. She wanted that week to be able to watch the havoc Marinette would wreck on the class. Kagami had already decided to join the class, and Marinette spotted her in Nathaniel's old seat. She was not expecting to see Felix frowning next to Kagami, nor Damian smirking at the back of the blond's head. Thanks to those very boys, though, it was amazingly easy to hide her surprise. A smirk crawled its way across her face, even as she stepped far enough into the room that everyone could see her. She had timed her entrance perfectly. As soon as the class went to explode with praises and questions, the bell rang, Madame Bustier walking in and asking them to all take their seats. Marinette made sure her steps were conscice enough to make it seem as though she was gliding up the rows, refusing to shoot her classmates so much as a glance. 

Lila walked into the room moments later, late, her gaze zeroing in on Felix. "Felibear! It's so nice to see you again!" She squealed, rushing up the steps. 

Felix stopped her with a cold glare. "Do I know you?"

Alya glared at the blond. "How could you ask your girlfriend if you know her? Especially since everyone knows you transfered to François-DuPont for her!"

Felix looked scandalized. "I did no such thing! I came here on request of my uncle. There are very few people here that I know from previous endeavors."

Lila burst out into tears. "H-how could you treat me like this? At least my Damiboo didn't do this!"

"Damiboo?" Marinette asked. Clearly Bustier wasn't going to stop the girl.

"Oh, I forgot you weren't here!" A sly grin crawled across Lila's face. "I suppose Damiboo didn't speak to you the whole time you were in Gotham, otherwise you would have known I used to date Damian Wayne!" The girl boasted.

Marinette looked at the horrified expression on her deskmate's face, and began her countdown. "I would never date a harlot like you!" He burst out, unable to stop himself. The class turned to stare at him, then realized that he had been just ahead of Marinette when the Wayne's and Jagged Stone arrived at the gala.

A slow smirk crawled across Marinette's lips, erasing the smile she had given her friends. "Do tell, Lila. I would love to hear all about your relationship with the Wayne's. Or about you dating Felix here. Oh! What about your relationship with my uncle? Save any of his cats lately? Let's not forget Clara Nightingale! Since she steals her music and dance moves from you, perhaps we could get a preview for her next video?"

Adrien frowned at Marinette. She seemed… different. "Mari, don't be so mean! Your supposed to be our everyday Ladybug, the better-"

"Agreste, if example is the next word to come out of your mouth I will steal Chloè's six inch stiletto right off of her foot and shove it down your throat while I laugh at your struggles." Adrien's mouth snapped shut as he paled, the class staring at Marinette in shock. 

"Marinette! That was uncalled for!" Madame Bustier frowned at the girl. Perhaps letting her go to Gotham was a mistake.

"Really, Madame Bustier? From where I'm sitting, it was perfectly called for. Agreste is not going to use my emotions to manipulate me into being the perfect placemat anymore. You are not going to manipulate me into being the perfect victim. I will no longer tolerate this class's treatment of me. Four people in this room have the authority to call me by a nickname. They know who they are. Four people have the ability to ask something of me. None of them were the ones that destroyed my sketchbook or commissions. None of them told me that I always have to be the better person and set an example for my classmates. I refuse to allow myself to be used any longer."

Alya glared at her friend as the rest of the class stared at the noirette in shock or turned their head away from her in shame. "Girl, what are you talking about? First you want us to pay you a while bunch of money, and now you don't want to do anything for us?"

Damian started to retort himself, stopped by Marinette's hand on his arm. Her voice was frosted fire when she commanded the room. "Everyone in this room, excluding my four friends and our teacher, had a hand I destroying commissions for the Wayne gala, requests from all of you, and my sketchbook. That is why you were sued for damages. Some of you paid more than others because Alya was gracious enough to post a video she had taken of what you did on her blog that allowed me to see who destroyed what. That allowed me to see exactly who has hell to pay." The dangerous smirk several of her classmates had noticed danced across her face yet again, like a sword would dance in the hands of Robin. 

Adrien scoffed. "you're just a baker's daughter. What could you possibly do?" He paled not long after the words flew out of his mouth, remembering what his father had told him.

"You look like you just remembered that I am not just a baker's daughter. Why don't you share with the class?" Marinette offered up one of her customary sunshine smiles, though Adrien was not fooled this time, quickly yelling the class exactly what his father had told him. 

Lila blanched. Forget the Agreste's and that stupid reporter, she should have set her sights on Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Marinette smiled down at the class, her court sitting in the back two rows with her. Chloè had kicked Felix out of his seat next to Kagami, and Felix had nudged Marinette into the middle of the bench, sandwiching her between Damian and himself.

Her blue eyes were frigid as she glared down upon her kingdom. The time for the Queen of Light was over- Darkness had come for her, and she welcomed them with open arms. Her crown darkened, from gold and diamonds to silver and onyx, and her reign had only begun.

[graceslavenderhaze]

fight night  (jatp crew x reader)

readers home life hasn’t been the best and they’ve been lying to their friends about it. one night it all builds up and the reader shows up to julies, distraught. ( for this the boys are alive bc it just worked out best but other than that no changes.)

this has been sitting in my drafts so i thought i’d post it

trigger warning: family fights, anxiety, depression, past talk of eating disorders.

For a long time you use to just keep everything buried down. That was your fatal flaw. It wasn’t a trust issue, you just always had this feeling that if no one knew then everything would be fine. But your family had lately been falling apart, your parents always seemed disappointed in you, you were fighting with your siblings more and it felt it a ballon that kept on expanding. you didn’t know when everything was going to explode it just kept getting worse.

Today was the exploding point. It seemed like no matter what you did, it just wasn’t good enough. You were the black sheep in your family, they made you out to be it. They complained about how you dressed, what your room looked like, the music you played, the people you hung out with, and for what? You didn’t do anything that was textbook problem child material. 

You tried your hardest in school, you never asked for much, you cleaned almost everyone’s mess at home, and after a while that became your routine. Never be seen, never be heard and never get any credit for everything you do. Meanwhile your siblings, little miss perfect and the star academic got everything you wanted. Your parents attention, their approval, and their constant reassurance. 

By the time you were in high school, you were emotionally independent. A stranger to your own family pretty much. You went to an art school along with your siblings. Even as the oldest, you quickly fell into their shadows. Your sister a musical protégé on the violin, your parents paid for the best lessons, and without a doubt she’ll probably attend some ivy league. Your brother was in the advanced academics program, with yale and harvard already offering him scholarships in his sophomore year. Then there was you. You were in the art program, and while your teacher swears that all the top art schools have you on their radar. You still felt insignificant.

You worked a weekend job at the local coffee shop, latte love , it wasn’t everything but it helped pay for art supplies for you to build your portfolio. Their you met Julie Molina and Flynn Davis. Two girls who were your age, they attended the music program at your art school. You recognized them, Julie had been like the sun at the school. In the hallways always smiling and then her mom died, the sun went away hidden behind clouds. While Flynn was unapologetically herself and didn’t backdown from telling people how things were, she was fearless. They were also probably the first two people who knew your siblings and were able to separate you from them. 

Then later on in the year the three of you met Luke, Alex and Reggie. Latte Love was hosting its monthly open mic night. It was almost a year after Julie’s mom died, so in an attempt to coax her back into music, Flynn brought her around. You offered free hot chocolate on the house as a bribe if she wanted to come. After an hour of mainly middle schoolers trying to face stage fright, soccer parents who desperately tried to hold onto their high school garage band phase and any other mediocre act who gave it their all in effort. Sunset Curve preformed. 

That night honestly sent all six of your lives’ into a full spiral but in the best way. A month after you had met sunset curve, they formed a band with Julie and became, Julie and the Phantoms. Flynn becoming the band manager and you being the artist for ticket designs, posters and anything else. It helped distract you from everything going on in your life and with your friends you didn’t feel left out or the black sheep. You were you and they loved you for all of it. 

But you could only be happy for so long. Your family always managed to make you feel horrible about yourself, this week had felt like the worst its ever been. Your sister being recruited for a summer symphony in Australia, your brother would be off at a stem camp and your summer plans were just to work, make art and hang with your friends. Your family wasted no time in telling you that you were wasting your time, or that it was just some silly childish thing. They didn’t understand how big Julie and the Phantoms were becoming. The latest gig being opening for panic at the disco at the Orpheum. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, which is how you ended up walking to Julie’s house right in the beginning of a thunderstorm. When you finally made it to Julie’s front stoop you were drenched head to toe. Julie being the one to pull you in the front door. In her oversized smiley face sweatshirt and baggy sweats. The movie night dress code.

“Did you walk here?” She exclaims looking at the outdoor storm and turning back to her best friend. Your eyes red from crying and cheeks raw from wiping your tears rapidly. She’d been expecting you for weekly movie night, especially since her dad and brother had been away for a baseball game for the weekend. Just not in this state.

“More like swam.” You replied with a dry laugh. Trying to desperately hold yourself together. Knowing your friends were all in the living room, you didn’t want to burden them with your breakdown. 

“Hey was that the chinese food! Y/n? Whats wrong bean?” Flynn stated her mood changing halfway through the sentence noticing the state of their best friend. Who looked like she’d just had the world’s worst day. You smiled fondly at the nice name she’d given you, which was a coffee pun. 

“Family shit. Like always.” You said looking down at the floor and the puddle that you were slowly dripping onto the Molina residence’s welcome mat. Both girls smiled sympathetically, they had their fair share of stories of how bad things could get at the L/n household. 

“Come on! It’s movie night, you’re getting into cozy clothes and having junk food with your friends.” Julie said taking your hand and leading you upstairs to her room. Julie handed you spare clothes due to you being completely soaked. Then a towel to dry yourself off.

“Here, once you’re ready to come downstairs, we can put your stuff into the dryer.” Julie said smiling at her friend before leaving to give her privacy. Taking the towel she gave you and trying to dry your hair. Then changing into the cozy clothes she gave you. Your phone blowing up from texts from your family. Your parents wanting to know where you were. Not caring how hurt you were. Your siblings saying half assed apologies they didn’t mean. They’d done this before and they’d do it again. 

Ignoring the messages, you walked back downstairs. The comforting smell of chinese food wafting at you. Julie, Alex and Flynn stood at the table. Meanwhile Luke and Reggie were were at the local 7/11 getting slushies. 

“Did anyone order a hot mess?” You said jokingly getting their attention. Alex standing up and instantly hugging you as if he’d never see you again. Hugging him back. Alex’s hugs always felt as if it was a cloud. 

The Molina residence house phone then rang, the caller id labeling your house. “We can just let it go to message.” Julie said turning back from the phone to you. You shook your head, “I’m so over this bullshit.” Walking over to the phone you picked it up. 

“Hello ever so loving parental unit.” You said with sarcasm dripping off every word. “Pop off!” Flynn said as she bit into a dumpling. You bit back a smile. “Where are you? You can’t run out because you’re upset.” You heard your mom say. You rolled your eye. 

“Where i am every friday night. I told you in advance i had plans so when you take your attention span off miss perfect and genius boy remember you have a third fucking child. Goodnight!” You said promptly and then hung up placing the phone back on back on its home base. “Beyoncé would approve.” Flynn said clapping for dramatic effect.

“How much trouble are you going to be in for that?” Alex said passing your usual that Julie knew to order for you, you shrugged. “Bold of you to assume they’ll remember to ground me.” 

“Wow what a rag tag group of mommy and daddy issues we are.” Reggie announced as he placed the tray of slushies down on the counter. “Excuse you!” Julie exclaimed as she took a slip of her blueberry slushie. “She’s dead, that’s an issue.” Flynn said as she grabbed her green apple one. You choked on your food for a second, “Out of pocket!” 

“She’s right babe.” Luke said hugging her from behind. “You have mommy issues too.” Julie said turning around slightly. “Only the hottest people have both mommy and daddy issues!” Alex exclaimed holding a hand of for you and Reggie to high five. 

“My back hurts from having a healthy parental relationship and carrying that standard.” Flynn said cracking open her fortune cookie. You laughed looking around at your dysfunctional friend group. 

“We are all going to hell for these jokes alone.” You said taking a sip of your slushie. Reggie scoffed, “We’re just warming up.” 

[quillsareswords]

And Arnold Makes Four

The next part of Blurb #18, because it got surprisingly great feedback! Thank you all so much! You don't necessarily need to read 18, but I'd recommend it, just to get your bearings.

Interested in a Polyamorus Taglist? Comment here!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Jon did not keep his promise. When two hours had passed and you were still snoring next to Damian as he reclined on both of you, he considered waking you because goddamn it he wanted a slushee, but decided against it.

Too many night had you both sat up until the sun shone. The least he could do was let you rest.

Besides—he was pretty sure one of you would try to punch him if he tried.

So, he laid contently against your legs, wasting most of the day between his Switch and your television.

Damian is the first one awake. He blinks hard twice, because the sun is shining directly through the window and straight into his eyes (likely what woke him up, he decides). You're the first thing he sees. You probably got a little too warm snuggled so close to him, so you've pulled back so he can see your whole face. Subconsciously, he tracks your breathing for a moment.

Then he's looking past you, for his other partner. One of you are usually in the middle, because Jon gets too hot laying between you. Jon's not there. Damian reminds himself that he's in your house and that there's realistically no reason to worry, before the niggling of panic worms it's way into his mind.

The weight against his shins shifts. He sits part way up, careful not to jostle you too much in the process.

Jon turns away from your TV and smiles brightly. "I wondered when you'd wake up," he says, quietly.

Your eyebrows furrow as you groan.

Damian rolls his upper half so he can properly himself up with his elbows. "Why didn't you wake us? It's been well over two hours," Damian asks, inclining his head towards the window, where it's obviously nearly sunset.

Jon shrugs, shifts his weight so Damian can roll completely over. "You seemed like you needed it, so . . ."

Damian nods slowly. He feels a little bad, wondering why his internal alarm clock didn't have him up within an hour. Probably you.

You mumble something about the light before your eyes crack open with a glare. You'd been half awake, listening to the conversation. "What time is it?"

"Sunset," Damian sighs, crawling over you to get off the bed. "Sunshine here didn't wake us up."

Jon's cheeks bloom pink at the endearment, but he pretends they don't. "You looked like you needed sleep," he defends, flopping back down in his boyfriend's place.

You realize he's already gotten dressed, while you're still in sleep shorts and a ratty tank top. You also realize that Damian is fishing clothes out of his duffel, which was slung down beside Jon's bulging backpack yesterday afternoon.

You don't know why they insist on bringing so much every time they come to stay, considering the bottom two drawers of your dresser are respectively theirs. You consider this silently as you roll out of bed to pull on jeans and your Converse.

By the time you grab your longboard and bid your parents goodbye, the sky is orange and pink and white and it's brilliant.

Jon's camera is in your backpack, your speaker on a strap slung across his body while you search for their designated playlist.

Damian's pennyboard hits the ground first, then your longboard, then Jon's skateboard. Down your suburban driveway you cruise, then down the cul-de-sac and onto the sidewalk running alongside the slow traffic of the road.

The Travel Center sign glows orange and red as you roll forward, Vance Joy booming from Jon's hip. The sky only gets prettier, so Jon asks for his camera once you stop.

When you reach the parking lot, you slide your heel along the cement to lose your momentum, simultaneously slinging your backpack down to the crook of one arm to get the camera.

You hand it to him when he stops beside you, then you pop the nose of your board and pause your music.

"What are you getting?" Jon asks, as you pass him, one arm outstretched to hold the glass door open for you, while Damian swings the other side of the door open for himself.

"Coca Cola, obviously," you hum, tucking your board under one arm and reshouldering the straps of your bag. "I'll cover snacks and whatnot if one of you will pay for the bracelets at the fair."

The county fair is finally back for the beginning of summer in your home town, so the three of you have decided to go, since the fairgrounds are so close to the pier anyway.

Damian nods. "I'll pay for them." He takes a small cup size from the stack as the three of you round the corner of the back isle.

"I'll pay for the slushees," Jon decides, taking a large.

"Good for you," you smile, filling your medium with the light brown, thinly ground ice from the rolling machine.

Jon flicks your nose as he pumps his large full if blue-burrrry first, then cherry.

Damian snaps a boring old flat lid on the top of his cup before he saunters off in search of a snack to take for the road.

You're the next one done, but because you have a soul, you take a dome lid and fill your cup past the brim.

You roam the isles for a few minutes, despite already knowing where everything, just like every weekend. You pick up a bag of cheddar Combos, a miniature tube of original Pringles, and a Hershey bar.

You meet your boys by the checkout, where the same tired-looking woman smiles at you fondly. Just like every weekend.

Damian sets down a bag of M&Ms, while Jon is still juggling four bags of candy, a skateboard, and a multicolored slushee which is oozing out from the top of the dome lid, because—like every weekend—he's overfilled it.

While you fish out some bills from the wallet in your backpack, Damian finally steps in and takes the slushee from him so he can slap down his pack of Rainbow Belts, a bag of Skittles, a Hershey Cookies and Cream bar, a bag of Trolli gummy worms, a bag of miniature Twix bars, and a blue Gatorade onto the counter.

You laugh, because it's a little bit like a clown car, the way he piles it all on the counter. Damian sighs, staring at Jon with a healthy mix of impression, surprise, and adoration.

Sheepishly, Jon takes his slushee back from his boyfriend and mumbles, "The slushees are separate."

The middle-aged woman withholds a laugh at the whole thing, even though this is a very regular occurrence, while she slides all the items across the scanner.

A few minutes later, the three of you pause in the parking lot to cram everything into your backpack. While Damian is helping you, Jon stands at the very edge of the sidewalk, snapping pictures of the gorgeous sunset and the colors it paints the sky.

Soon enough, you're on your way again. The pier isn't too far from your house—maybe three miles, not counting the backtracking you have to do from the Travel Center. Its also not used often unless there's some big event, like a holiday or something at the fairgrounds, which are a quick jaunt up a dirt path through a patch of woods.

It's been a favorite spot of yours, ever since you were old enough for your parents to let you loose. You brought the boys out last summer, only about a month after forming the three way relationship you're so comfortable in. Since then, it's been a frequent for you three, when the weather's nice.

It isn't an ocean pier, by the way. It's on a lake, which is partly owned by the park on the other side, and partly owned by the same family who's owned the fairgrounds for as long as you can remember. They have a miniature boat race every Spring, and a lantern release every New Year.

You make it to the fairgrounds just about as soon as the sun sinks below the treeline, courtesy of the (mostly) paved road that stretches through the massive unused field and dense woods that divides it from the main road. Mostly, because it was paved so long ago that it was well forgotten in the most recent repaving your small town underwent a year or two ago.

You pop the nose of your board up, shoving the rest of your chocolate bar into your mouth as you step on to the whiterock path leading to the ticket booth, and the rest of the pop-up carnival beyond it.

"Three bracelets, please," Damian requests, holding out a twenty and a ten. Ten bucks for an all-access bracelet that are only valid for twenty-four hours might seem crazy, but it's logistically cheaper and easier than buying X-amount of tickets, and then having to come back for more later.

You hastily strap the paper onto one another's wrists before you scamper off, your eyes set on the Twister, dragging your boys behind you.

You spend most of the night squished between two people in a two-person seat; or throwing things at other things to win more things; or sprawled out in the grass behind or between some booths, chowing down on pre-bought snacks. Jon went off and got an Elephant Ear at some point, so you spent more time sitting in the grass, eating and chatting idly, humorously judging people with Damian while Jon glared on disapprovingly. Still, even he couldn't find anything good to say about the full neon rainbow leopard jumpsuit that fit about six sizes too small in the worst way, other than at least he's creative.

At one point or another, you come across a giant stuffed sloth that's about a foot short of being as tall as you, and you decide on the spot that it is absolutely going home with you. Damian and Jon see the number of points it costs and sigh in unison. You spend about one hundred and sixteen minutes throwing baseballs at far-too-heavy milk bottles, but hey, who's counting?

You do, eventually, win the sloth, with the combined efforts of three super-sidekicks—Jon's super strength, Damian's freakish aim, and your intuitive throwing finally converge on one task, surprisingly.

Hauling your new friend—Arnold, you've dubbed him—on your back, you decide to show your gratitude by putting your knife throwing skills (you're very good at instinctive throwing, because of your flawless intuition) to good use at the dart-and-ballon game.

You leave Arnold in Jon's care (Damian ever so gently told you that he'd leave Arnold to sit in the dirt beside them, not hold him, which offended you deeply), and and your longboard with Damian, before you march over, wad of dollar bills in hand.

You return twenty minutes later, two plush animals in each hand. You proudly bestow a ambiguous black bird to Damian, and a fire engine red marshmallow-esque creature to Jon. You take Arnold in your arms and resituate him to ride piggy back, long boneless arms draped over your shoulders.

Jon giddily grins at his new blob friend, and thanks you, muttering, a little shyly, that you really didn't have to. Damian stares down at the stuffed bird in silence, a smidge of contempt flickering in his eyes. It crosses your mind that he might have preferred something else, but all doubt is erased with his grip on it becomes a little more firm, a bit more protective, and you catch his gaze going soft on it. He offers you a little smile, because he's bad at genuinely accepting and showing appreciation for these kinds of gifts.

And because you know this, you return the gesture to prove that you understand.

Your trio heads for the dirt path through the decently small patch of woods, where a dirt path peeks out like a old man with gentle eyes and a warm smile.

Jon stops right as you reach the mouth of the path. He hands Damian his skateboard. "You go ahead, I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?" Damian asks.

Jon starts walking backwards. "I'm gonna get something. I'll be quick, I promise! Go ahead!"

Damian exchanges a look with you. You shrug, reaching toward his hand and wiggling your fingers.

He locks his fingers with yours, sparing Jon one more look over his shoulder before the two of you set off.

"What do you think he's up to?" you wonder, peering over your shoulder just before the carnival is out of sight. You don't see him, but you imagine him bobbing a weaving through the crowds of half drunk, drunk high, and half asleep people ambling around in the last hours of the festivities for the day.

Damian glances back one more time. "Don't know," he answers. "Can't be anything good, if he wouldn't tell us."

You nod. "Can't be awful, if he wouldn't warn us," you add with a smile.

He laughs. "Can't be amazing if he wouldn't gloat about how amazing his idea is."

You laugh loudly. "You got me there."

You pass the marker for the middle of the path soon after. It's just an old wooden post, marked properly with fading orange tape. Not long after that, you leave the treeline behind.

The pier is old, and a little creaky. The wood is dark with age, warm with sun, and worn with the repeated paths of the residents of your hometown. The group of people is surprisingly small, despite the carnival's large attendance.

Your eyes roam the few couples scattered around the clearing by the water, and the group of friends laughing loudly from borrowed fishing boats further out in the water. Warm summer night air sticks to your skin and fills your lungs the way only it can.

The pair of you find a good spot at the very end of the pier, where the boards are still stable, but boast a concerning number if cracks and splinters. You prop Arnold up behind you, safely away from the water, but he slouches inanimately while he holds Damian's crow and your backpack in his lap.

"We should do this more," you hum, leaning back on your elbows to get a proper look at the mostly clear sky. It's nearly a full moon, and lack of light pollution leaves the stars on display, while the open moonlight reflects beautifully off the tops and sides of passing clouds.

Damian hums in agreement. "That would be nice." His neck cranes to get a good look for himself. "Any constellations?"

"Orion is there," you point to the belt specifically. "And the Dippers are right there."

A beat of silence as you admire the heavens.

"How long do you think until Jon calls us because he's gotten into trouble?"

You laugh. "Fifteen minutes," you bet.

Damian nods. "Sounds right. He's probably getting some kind of food."

"I hope it's something without grease," you groan. "Otherwise I might be sick."

Damian chuckles. "Don't get your hopes up."

As if it was a stage cue, you hear footsteps thumping up the rickity wood planks toward you.

You both turn at the sound of your names. "Look what I got!" Jon howls excitedly.

He's got a giant bag of popcorn and another of cotton candy under one arm, and brandishing a clear plastic bag with the other.

"That better not be a fish," you warn, but the spark in your eyes betrays the implied threat. You sit back up to get a better look.

"It'll be dead in a week," Damian warns, "so don't get too attached."

Jon fakes a pout, stopping beside Arnold. "His name is Jerry and you're being very rude." He drops the bags of snacks among your prize-filled bag and stuffed animals, then drops himself on the other side of you.

"Let me see him," you swipe the bag without permission. You hold it level with your eyes. It stares back boredly. "What are you gonna do with him? Do you have a bowl?"

He smiles sheepishly at you. "I thought your mom might have a vase or something."

You roll your eyes good-naturedly and hold the bag out to Damian to inspect. "I'm sure she does," you assure anyway. "If not, you can borrow a water glass or something."

Damian's eyes light up suddenly, as he eyes the yellow fish. "Your mother has a huge wineglass, doesn't she?"

You grin. "Yes. Yes she does, and you're a genius."

Damian smiles suavely, reaching across you to hand the bag back to Jon. "This isn't new information."

You snort and roll you eyes again, reaching for the cotton candy. "And so modest, too."

Jon tucks one leg under the opposite knee, setting the bag of water in the crook of his knee. "And ugly as a moose."

Damian indignantly rips the bag of cottony sugar from your grasp, leaving you with an offended glare, an agape mouth, and a thick tuft of pink fluff in your hand. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

You giggle over to Jon. "I think he hates us," you loudly whisper.

Jon nods thoughtfully, peering past you as he whispers back, "He's planning to poison us with dinner."

Damian sighs, loudly. "Firstly, poison wouldn't effect you, Jon. Secondly, if I hated either of you, I wouldn't be here."

Jon laughs. "He's got us, Lovely."

You lean on Damian's shoulder. "In more ways than you one."

Your plan works perfectly. Red flushes down his neck, eyes still locked on the horizon.

Jon picks up on it immediately, and hooks an arm around Damian's waist. "Wouldn't you agree, Love?"

He grumbles between the two of you, annoyed and embarrassed and so overwhelmingly in love.

As predicted, he makes a quick effort to switch topics. "How long are we staying?"

You and Jon respect his discomfort with focused public affection and pull away. "Long as we want," you answer, shoving a smaller tuft of pink into your mouth. "Mom just said to be home before two."

Jon nods. "I wanna watch a Disney movie when we get home." You agree.

"Speaking of getting home," Damian peers over his shoulder at the small mountain of prizes, food, and skateboards behind you, "how exactly do you plan on getting Arnold home?"

You eye the four-foot-six sloth and your longboard. Then you turn back to your boys, moonlight casting a gleam in your eyes. "I have absolutely no idea."

[TAGS – @qween-of-trash ]

[shinysobi]

i came in from the outside, burnt out from the joyride (ii)

this was born out of a conversation with @akinosakiya, so all credits go to her >.<

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | coming soon

ao3

(A/N: so... i am extremely sorry for not updating,,, uni and life has been generally kicking my ass pretty horribly (im in my final semester lol) and while i am not generally very happy with this chapter, it is important because it sets up a lot of things in the future yeeet)

word count: 4955

Attorney Park wishes her good luck as she leaves for the courthouse the next day, and Sol can’t help but feel as though he was laughing at her for some reason, and frantically checks for food stuck in her teeth on the way to the courthouse. There isn’t any, so she’s left to wonder exactly what the hell he meant when he had sent her off with a very cryptic “see you soon, Kang Sol.”

“What did he even mean?” she mutters to herself, calling her sister, “Ah, Byeol, remember to go to your academy today, all right?”

“Okay, eonni,” her sister replies, “you’re at the courthouse, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, I have a case to win,” she replies, and Byeol wishes her good luck before the call goes silent, and she allows herself a rare moment of self-reflection, taking in the image of the Courthouse. It’s imposing, but she curiously feels at home here, in the middle of the city where the noise of the cars is so loud, she can’t hear the person next to her sometimes. There’s something magical about the courthouse, and she isn’t romanticising it, but the idea of fighting for justice, no matter how imperfect, it fills her with pride, even more so when she knows that what she is doing is for good.

Not to say that there aren’t any downsides to it, either. She gets threats almost on the daily, from disgruntled clients and from people who want her to take the case, even though she knows it would be an affront to her dignity. The Dean’s voice floats into her ear, reciting the Attorneys-at-act law that allows her to reject a case if she wants to. Right. It does not feel like an insult to her now like it had done then, the act, because she chose to take this case on, and yet, here she is, standing in front of the courthouse, wearing her nicest clothes (Yeseul had raised an eyebrow, but she was too tired to pay any attention to her) and dreading her turn to go inside.

“Eonni!” a voice calls out, and it’s Yeseul, dressed for a case, “how long do you have before you have to go in?” Sol doesn’t need to check her watch to tell the time that is left, ten minutes on the dot, and she’s waiting for her client to come through, still in police custody, something which she had failed to stop, “are you staring off into space again?”

She recovers quickly, “no, I was just waiting for the defendant to be brought here by the police.” She turns to Yeseul, who’s evidently not had much sleep, “why are you here in my case? Didn’t you wrap one up today?”

“Ah, I did,” Yeseul smiles, taking a hold of Sol’s arm, “but I’m here now, aren’t I? I thought you would need some support, you know, since you—”

She doesn’t complete the sentence. She doesn’t need to. Sol smiles at her, loops their arms together, and says, “do you want to have coffee?”

Yeseul grins, “I’d love to.”

—

No matter how many times she’s walked in here, and no matter how much the courthouse makes her feel at ease, there’s still a part of her that is anxious when she stands in front of it, hoping that she might be able to provide adequate justice to the person she was defending. It throws her off sometimes, the court of law. But she can always find her way back to it, and perhaps this is why she loves it, loves being able to defend people from being betrayed by the same system that they had put so much trust in, betrayed, just like she had been. It’s as though the law is apologising to her, albeit in its own, slightly twisted way.

The defendant, Je Sang-Hee, sits at her designated position, looking at her, and Sol draws herself up to her full height, careful to not catch anyone’s eye on the other side of the courthouse. Its oddly suffocating, the courthouse today, the air thick with a sort of anticipation that she doesn’t really want to address. Yeseul squeezes her arm, whispering, “you’ll do good, eonni,” and all of a sudden, she’s standing there, alone, with only her wits there for help. Shit. I wish I had had gotten drunk last night. At least this would have been hazier.

She approaches the bench, the defendant sitting silently, and tries to reassure her, “don’t worry, we’ll clear your name, all right?” she’s met with silence, as Sang-Hee only nods, her eyes welling with unshed tears. It’s heart-breaking, the way Sang-Hee has accepted her punishment, accepted that she would be going to prison anyway, so, nothing really matters. Sol doesn’t want that for her. She doesn’t want that for anyone, not even the worst of criminals. Sure, she may not be defending them in the court of law, but everyone should benefit from the assumption of innocence. She may not be the one speaking up for them, but she does wish that people have the opportunity to prove themselves innocent.

There aren’t many people in attendance in the courthouse today, which is a blessing, but she also has to deal with pesky reporters stationed outside, who seemed to have taken an interest in the woman accused of attempted murder, despite having really, no evidence against her. It was funny, how people jumped to conclusions, just because of the person’s backgrounds, or due to a particular defamatory article that may have been published about them online. Sang-Hee had had one published about her, filled with lies so vile that Sol couldn’t even read through it once.

“Sang-Hee ssi,” She says, approaching the defendant’s bench, “how are you feeling today?”

Je Sang-Hee looks at her, eyes still shining with tears, and lowers her gaze. She can’t even speak. Sol is angry, of course, but even more than the anger that simmers inside of her, is frustration, for not being able to protect her client, frustration at being unable to be the person there for the victim.

“Eonni,” Yeseul’s voice drags her out of her little reverie, “eonni, I think Joon-hwi oppa is here now.”

Sol squints at the younger girl, “who told you that?”

Yeseul holds up her phone, “Bok-gi is going to be here too, so he texted me. The two of them are going to come along, him and Jiho. Jiho should be here by now, but he hasn’t texted yet.”

Sol just—stares at Yeseul for a moment, trying to understand the volley of information that had just been thrown at her, in a manner not unlike that of Professor Yang, the man who, Sol recollects with regret, had heard about this whole mess from Sol B, but had not once offered to help. She didn’t need his help, though. It’s just that he could have offered to help her, and it would have been nice.

“Eonni,” Yeseul says, warning evident in her voice, “he’s here.”

What she doesn’t say, but Sol knows, is the sentence, don’t worry, I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you. She didn’t need it, per se, but it felt nice to know that at least one person had her back in this courthouse. Bok-gi was of course, on her side too, but she knew he wouldn’t sacrifice Joon-Hwi. Not now, anyway.

“You have your back to the Prosecutor’s bench,” Yeseul elbows her lightly, and she realises that yes, she has indeed been standing with her back towards the Prosecution’s bench all this while, and most importantly, there was someone behind her.

“Attorney Kang,” She knows that voice, has heard it in her head for years now, but Kang Sol finds herself unable to lift her gaze from the linoleum floor as she grasps the warm hand that was now being offered to her, “nice to meet you, finally.”

There’s a teasing lilt to the last word, a certain edge to the syllable that she knows all too well, having been subjected to it for hours on end, in classes, in the copy room, in the café, even in her mind. It’s from a voice she knows all too well, someone she had wronged.

Courage, Kang Sol.

“Hello, Prosecutor Han,” she looks up, extending one hand to the man in front of her, and—

She didn’t have any expectations of how she would meet Han Joon-Hwi after so many years, but in the deeper recesses of her mind, she had a thought; of his eyes widening at seeing her face for the first time in so many years, her falling in love with him all over again. She had thought of looking—no, not just looking, looking at him, for the first time in so many years, after that one fateful day when she ignored the words of her heat and went running far away from him, perhaps falling in love all over again.

Instead—she feels nothing. Perhaps a pang of guilt somewhere in the recesses of her mind, but when she looks into the eyes of Han Joon-Hwi, her best friend, the person she had fallen in love with, Kang Sol doesn’t see anyone but a weathered prosecutor, the boy who had called out her name on graduation day in Hankuk Law school long gone. Even though he looks not a day older, even though his eyes still crinkle in the same way when he smiles, and his hand still holds the same weight when he takes her hand for a handshake, but she can’t find the boy she was in love with anymore.

“Attorney Kang,” he grins, and his voice is the same, teasing when he looks at her, smiles at her, but he is her opponent, she has to defeat him today. This isn’t preparing for mock trials and judicial competitions, where they only played at being lawyers and prosecutors, this is real life. Je Sang-Hee’s life depends upon her, Kang Sol, winning this case. Against him, Han Joon-Hwi.

“Noona, nice to see you again,” Bok-gi pushes forward, giving her a warm hug, which does its job to dissipate all errant thoughts of a boy whose smile had haunted her in her dreams, “I’ll be watching today, my law firm asked me to—”

“Don’t worry about that,” she assures him, “you can take all the notes you want.” He’s still looking at her, she realises when she lets go of Bok-gi, Han Joon-Hwi is still staring at me. Do I have something in my teeth? “Good luck today, Prosecutor Han.”

He grins at her then, dimpled smile making her heart skip a beat, and says, “I don’t need luck, Attorney Kang,” before sauntering off to his seat.

Kang Sol clenches her jaw. Asshole.

--

He wasn’t sure how it would be—their meeting for the first time, but Joon isn’t going to say he’s dissatisfied with it. sure, she’s grown up now—she isn’t Kang Sol A anymore, she goes by just Kang Sol, and he doesn’t have the pesky tag of second-round judicial passer hanging around his neck anymore.

She had stared him down, and to no surprise, he still found her beautiful. Sure, he had always thought that there was a sort of magnetic aura around Sol, something that commanded the attention of an entire room when she walked in. She looked the same as she had looked, five years ago, when he had tried to confess to her, and she had rejected him. Sol hadn’t told him that she was rejecting him, at least not explicitly; Han Joon-Hwi was a man who could take a hint, especially if it ran away from him while he was in the middle of his confession. Really, Kang Sol. You made me chase you all the way to this courtroom.

A hand slams down on his desk, and Seo Jiho’s irritated voice tells him, “If you’re going to stare, at least do it properly.”

He sputters, suddenly thankful that his co-prosecutor was running late, as he stood up to stare at his ex-roommate, who was porting a very uncharacteristic grin, “what do you mean by that? I wasn’t staring.”

“Sure, you weren’t,” Jiho says, and even Bok-gi sniggers at him, “you were just looking in the general direction of Sol noona, so much so that everyone in the room thinks that the two of you are either dating, or that you want to kill her. Personally, I prefer the latter.”

He doesn’t say anything, just grumbles under his breath, and Jiho presses on, “did you prepare well for this case? You do realise that your evidence is weak, do you?”

“Ah, of course, hyung knows it,” Bok-gi steps in to intervene, and Joon-Hwi thinks for a moment that yes, Bok-gi was always one of the better ones, and then he opens his mouth again, “he’s just ignoring all the things he said before entering the courthouse, and proving to all of us how much of a hypocrite he is.”

Joon glares at Bok-gi, who is giggling at him now, and turns to look at the judge’s bench a pout on his face. Sure, he had proclaimed in the car that he would “not be looking at her, nope”, and the fact that it had taken him exactly three minutes to break that promise was bit laughable, but his friends didn’t have to rub it into his face.

“I don’t understand,” Bok-gi asks, “why are you still hung up on her? You basically took this case just so you could meet her again, and even though the two of you haven’t talked in years, you still talk about her, you still ask about her when you get the chance, so what is going on?”

Joon-Hwi doesn’t answer. He knows what is going on, why he has been so intent on meeting Kang Sol, even after so long, but he doesn’t want to—no, he can’t tell Bok-gi that. He feels a pang of guilt whenever he even thinks of telling Bok-gi the actual reason behind him running after Sol, even though she had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

He wonders, sometimes.

His co-prosecutor arrives in the courtroom, almost gliding over the floor to take their seat, and he can see Kang Sol shrink back a little, obviously intimidated. He doesn’t hide his smile anymore, not that he needs to either. She didn’t have to get flustered over his co-prosecutor entering the damn courtroom. She’s never done that, at least from what Bok-gi and Yebeom have told him; even Jiho had pitched in with his own comments sometimes, knowing exactly how much it pissed him off, but he still did it. Every time he met Bok-gi or he met Yeseul, he would ask about her, waiting for them to respond with “oh, she’s doing okay, oppa” and “I met her a few weeks ago, she was fine, hyung” and they move on after that, but he can’t.

They don’t possibly expect him to move on from her, do they?

“All rise,” the bailiff announces, and he dutifully stands up, watching out of the corner of his eye as Sol gently helps the defendant to rise up alongside her, before being seated again. She still did that little thing when she looked around the entire courtroom for people watching her, he thinks to herself. She’s still the same Sol. No, she’s different now. We both are. We both are different, but there’s still things about her that remind me of the times we spent in Hankuk.

“Prosecutor Han,” the judge tells him, and he stands up quickly to his feet, “begin.”

“Thank you, Your Honour,” He says, walking out to the defendant’s bench, “defendant Je Sang-Hee, you were indicted on charges of attempted murder, following an attack on your fiancé, Seo Changmin, on the fourteenth of November, two weeks prior to your indictment.”

“Yes, I was,” she begins, “but I didn’t do anything to—”

“I’ll be the one asking questions here,” he cuts her off with a dismissive wave of his hand, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sol draw an almost-imperceptible breath, shaking her head at him. She isn’t flustered. He’s very sure she isn’t flustered, because the two of them have been on opposite sides of each other, time and time again, “could you confirm that Seo Changmin suffered injuries because of you?”

She stares at him, defiant, and replies, “he did not suffer injuries because of me, I found him and I called the police, I’ve told you this.”

“Yes, you have,” Joon walks to the front of the witness’ bench, “but your whereabouts were also unknown that night, until that fateful moment when you actually found your fiancé, and proceeded to assault him. Is that right?”

She looks at him, scowling. He’s hit a nerve, apparently. They had been harping on that aspect for far too long than what was necessary, Joon had noticed when he had been preparing. He couldn’t go that way when he questioned her, because he knows Sol has prepared for it.

So, he changes his track of questioning, “Ms Sang-Hee, would I be wrong in assuming that Mr Changmin had visited you five times over the three days prior to the accident?”

She stares at him, “he is my fiancé. Or he was, before the accident happened. It wasn’t unusual for him to visit me multiple times in a single day.”

He stops, “and yet, when the police asked you about the reason of his visits, you chose to remain silent, evading the question—”

“Objection,” Sol says calmly, standing up from her seat, “the prosecution cannot ask leading questions.”

“Sustained,” the judge replies smoothly, even before Joon-Hwi has a chance to respond, “Prosecutor Han, you cannot possibly expect me to accept this in the courthouse.”

He nods his head, slightly irritated, now that she has taken his advantage away, “moving on, Ms. Sang-Hee, when you found Seo Changmin unconscious, why did you not call for an ambulance? You waited ten minutes to call an ambulance, which most people would argue, looks strange, does it not?”

She doesn’t back down an inch. Good. He hadn’t thought she would either. They didn’t have enough evidence to show that she was guilty, her indictment based primarily on circumstantial evidence that even the most punishment-happy of all judges would find difficulty agreeing with. But they had had her indicted, and now they were here, trying to get her a sentence that would be as heavy as possible. Sol had been right. He didn’t have to worry about the defendant, not as a prosecutor. He just had to punish people to the full extent of the law.

“I tried to wake him up multiple times, but he didn’t respond,” Sang-Hee responds, staring at the judge, “I didn’t think it was out of the ordinary, since he had always had a drinking problem, but when he didn’t respond to me calling his name in the morning, that was when I grew worried.”

She looks at him once, then back to her lawyer, Sol, who looked as though she wanted to strangle him. good. This means I’m winning, and turns back to him, “it was like him to come back drunk, so drunk that he could barely remember where he was, and his friends would drop him off at my house, with apologies, but he would repeat his behaviour. I wasn’t too worried when he didn’t respond to my calls at night, but by morning, he would usually be awake and demanding breakfast. That was when I started to get anxious.”

“Anxious? Not worried?” he asks, curiosity spiked by her peculiar choice of words, “were you anxious that he was actually dead? Or were you anxious that your—”

“he’s my fiancé, of course I would be anxious if he was not responding to my calls,” Sang-Hee stares at him, “you must not have dated a lot if you think I wouldn’t have been worried about my fiancé.”

A wave of laughter runs through the court, and he can feel the tips of his ears turn red. Even the judge cracks a smile, and he can see both Bok-gi and Jiho sniggering. They’re never going to let me live this one down, “so, you called the police then, who found your fiancé almost dead from a drug overdose.”

“Yes,” she looks at her hands, fingers intertwined, “they told me he had taken it about four hours before I called them.”

Ah, there it is. He knew it would come to this, he had known there was no way to win this case after all, even if he really did want to win. There were things he couldn’t do after all, despite being what they called a ‘star prosecutor’. “No more questions.”

The smile on Sol’s face is enough to tell him that he’s lost this case. Oddly enough, he doesn’t feel disappointed, even as his partner shoots dirty looks at him, a clear violation of courtroom conduct, but he can’t bring himself to care, fixated on the way she looks while cross-examinating the defendant, the way she turns to the judge and says “no more questions, your Honour.” It’s a far cry from the Sol he remembers at law school, the one who would have him act as prosecutor whenever she went up in a mock trial, even if he had been assigned the role of prosecutor, going up against her. She always asked him to help her practise, and like the fool that he was, he always helped her. Even now, as he stands there, watching her, it’s almost as though he is back at Hankuk; almost, but not quite.

“Court adjourned for the day, and will convene for the next trial on—” Joon can feel himself growing more and more antsy, as the judge announces the date for the next trial, and that Sang-Hee can be released from Judicial custody, especially since her health had been failing due to the stress of the trial and asthma, from which she had suffered since she was young.

He hurries out of the courthouse, only to be cornered by Jiho and Bok-gi at the entrance, Bok-gi with a large grin on his face and Jiho with his trademark expressionless look, although he knows both of them were going to tease him about this, possibly till he died and perhaps even then, they would find a way to sneak it into his eulogy.

Strangely, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Hyung, where are you going?” Bok-gi asks, even as Joon desperately tries to catch a glimpse of Sol through the now-closing courtroom doors, “shouldn’t you be preparing for the next date?”

He looks at Bok-gi for a second, eyes widening, “what are you talking about?”

Bok-Gi’s smile gets wider, if that’s possible, “really? What were you thinking about, hyung? I was talking about the next court date.”

Joon-Hwi huffs, “I was thinking about the same thing, Min Bok-Gi; now, if you will—”

Jiho opens his mouth to say something, but Joon barrels past the two of them, running down the stone steps and to the driveway, where his car was parked, and, presumably, Sol’s too. She’s walking faster now, and he has to run to keep up with her. Her ponytail bobs as she takes quick steps, in a hurry to get away from the courthouse complex. He doesn’t blame her at all.

“Sunbae!” he calls out, loud enough to catch the attention of quite a few people, “Sunbae!”

That catches her attention all right, and she stops in her tracks, turning to him, an irritated expression on her face. It doesn’t stay for long, however, fading just as quickly as it came, “so, you’re still sticking with that name, Han Joon-Hwi?”

He grins, “of course. It wouldn’t be me and you, if I didn’t call you Sunbae, Sunbae.”

She stares at him, with an expression he can’t quite place. “I thought we didn’t have that sort of a relationship anymore, Prosecutor Han.”

And, there it is. He can’t deny it and say that it doesn’t hurt to be treated by Sol this way, but he’s nothing if not tenacious, so he pushes on, “you did good today, in there.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nods her head, before replying with a curt, “good job today, Prosecutor Han.” Of course, she would say that; he doesn’t want to admit it, but it sort of feels like she had slapped him full across the face. Who am I kidding, if she had done that, it would have perhaps hurt less. He feels like a fool, standing in the middle of the road, calling out her name, and a years-old nickname that she didn’t like, and one that he felt only held significance for him.

What they had not had was closure; or at least for him, it was that, the absence of a final answer to his unasked question, something between them still hanging in the air. She could ignore it, live on with her life, but he cannot. There should have been closure, he’s told himself time and time again, or was I just too unimportant for her to even give a damn. It isn’t true, he knows, Sol wouldn’t do that to him, or to anyone else for that matter, but on some nights, it becomes impossible. He doesn’t blame her either; he blames his own self for the loss of his closest friend. If only he hadn’t been stubborn enough to ask her out on the day of graduation. He should have waited a little bit more.

But then, should he have waited?

“Sol!” he calls out again, jogging lightly to keep up with her steps, “Sol! Wait up for a minute—”

He’s interrupted, Sol turning abruptly to meet him halfway, which results in him having to backtrack, “what do you want now?”

He smiles brightly, “how about Pyongyang naengmyeon? I know a place nearby that’s good.”

She stares at him, like she can’t really figure out his deal. He holds up his hands, “look, all I’m asking for is a meal. No strings attached.”

Surprisingly, she nods once, turning on her heel, “lead the way, Prosecutor Han.”

--

I should not be doing this.

Her phone buzzes, and it’s Yeseul. You should not be doing this, the text reads, and Sol has to gather all her willpower to not scream in the middle of the street, I know, I fucking know, I shouldn’t be doing this with him right now, going for lunch when there’s—no, I just cannot do it.

She thinks it would be good, for her to have one lunch with him, to get him out of her system, Yeseul’s wisdom about not having lunch with someone who is technically her opponent in the court be damned. She just needs to have lunch with him once, and then she can stop feeling this way.

The restaurant is small, but bright light filters in through the large windows as they take a seat at one of the empty tables. There are a lot of them, she thinks, looking around, just after the lunchtime rush, or the restaurant wasn’t a very good one. Either way, she was supposed to be having a meal with Han Joon-Hwi right now, and as Sol takes a seat, she realises she had been vastly unprepared for this meeting.

He doesn’t look like the Joon she knew back in Hankuk, that is certain, but he doesn’t look like what her imagination had unhelpfully supplied her with either. He looks every inch the prosecutor, with dark circles underneath his eyes and that slouching posture she supposes every prosecutor has, as though he had been carrying the weight of the whole world. It’s sad, somehow.

“Are you going to order?”

“Hm?” She turns her gaze, and sure enough, he’s looking at her just like he had done all those years ago, when she had a stupid letter attached to her name like a real-life suffix that followed one around, and he used to lean over tables and grin all up in her face and mock her by saying Sunbae. It’s—uncomfortable. She didn’t think she would revert to her university self so easily, but with him, it feels like second nature, “You said Pyongyang naengmyeon, so we should get Pyongyang naengmyeon.”

“All right,” he teases, but it’s light, the kind of tone one would use with a co-worker, which strikes her as somehow offensive (am I not more important than a co-worker?) and she spots a glint of something else in his eyes, but shakes her head free of the thought, just as he says, “so, how is work?”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t think you asked me to lunch after all these years just to talk to me about work, Han Joon-Hwi.”

He smiles, “right, I didn’t, two orders of beef bone soup, please.”

She stares at him, “it’s summer,” and turns back to the ahjumma, “two orders of Pyongyang naengmyeon, please.”

He just shakes his head, looking at her in that funny way, and asks, “so, do you remember, or do you not?”

What is he even asking me about? “No, I don’t,” she replies, pouring out water for the both of them, “what are you even talking about?”

He shakes his head at her again, “never mind. Let’s eat.”

She can’t help but feel as though she had just missed something important, at least by the look on his face. Or maybe that’s the naengmyeon talking.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 12

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I’m going to start answering comments at the bottom but before the taglist now so you guys can get straight into the chapter (unless it’s really important like taking a break or something)

Also I’ve decided to move all the Wayne kids closer together in age. Damian’s 18, Tim is 21, Jason is 23, Dick is 25

~~~

She didn’t go to the coffee shop the next day. Partially because she wasn’t getting her overpriced coffee paid for (at least not without a lot of whining), but mostly because she wanted to do some research where people couldn’t see her.

She sighed as she flipped between all fifty of her tabs, resting her head on her hand. She could hear Tikki trying, and failing, to make her something to eat in the kitchen.

Who could the bat family be? They had to have a lot of influence and/or money to get as much information as they did. She flipped through the most wealthy people in Gotham and its surrounding area, but where was the cutoff? How was she to know that they weren’t middle class people who saved for expensive things?

And then there was the tiny case of the near-slipup on the rooftops. Nightwing was about to call Robin something. He wouldn’t have been saying ‘friend’, he wouldn’t have had to pause like that. What had he been about to say? She hoped it wasn’t ‘boyfriend’, they had what seemed to be a 10 year age gap. Her best assumption was they were going to say ‘brother’, which implied at least most of the bat family was related.

Her eyes found their way to the tab with a picture of Bruce Wayne. He was standing alone, his kids never had pictures taken of them out of respect for their privacy, but everyone knew of his penchant for adopting kids with dark hair and blue eyes.

Great. She’ll never know, then. How was she, a designer, supposed to get close to the Bruce Wayne?

~

On a completely unrelated note, the next day she stood outside of a gate with Tim. Her eyes locked on the weird symbol on the gate, trying to place where she’d seen it before, but her brain couldn’t seem to find it. Oh well, it was probably just one of the rich people she’d researched yesterday.

Tim placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “You can not let my dad adopt you.”

She gave a small eyeroll, pushing his hands off and smoothing out her dress. It had taken forever to get a dresscode out of Tim, because he insisted that ‘you could wear a burlap sack and my family would love you, just relax’, but he eventually just told her formal. Not helpful. There’s levels of formal, Tim. She had settled for a plain red dress with a black belt.

“I don’t think my parents would be all that excited if I traded them out after a few days here.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Use that.”

“Use tha--?”

The gates swung open.

Tim took a deep breath as if to steel his nerves. “At least Damian isn’t here. You get to meet the nicest of the family first.”

“Why isn’t he here?”

“He got out of it,” he shrugged.

They stepped inside. She stared up at the high walls. She pulled out her phone and took a picture in case she messed up with Tim’s family so bad that she wasn’t allowed back.

The moment she walked in someone pulled her into a hug. “Thank you!” He cried.

Marinette blinked and gave him a short pat on the back. “You’re... welcome?”

He pulled away and held out a hand to shake. “Sorry, I was just so excited to meet the person who got him to take a day off. I’m Dick.”

“You’re... you’re what?” She said, her eyebrows shooting into her hair.

Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, right, French. I’m Richard but, in America, that gets shortened to ‘Dick’.”

She blinked once, then just chose to accept it. “Nice to meet you, I’m Marinette.”

“How’d you do it?”

She gave a small shrug as they began walking to the dining room. “I don’t know. He just offered.”

Dick sent her a skeptical look, then looked at his brother as if to confirm.

“In my defense, she looked really stressed.”

“More stressed than you usually do?” Came a voice from above. She looked up to see yet another guy leaning over a railing to look at them.

Marinette raised her eyebrows. “I thought you guys were adopted, how do you all look exactly the same?”

The newest grinned. “Dad’s got a type.” He hopped the railing and landed next to them.

She narrowed her eyes slightly as she took a better look at all of them. Tim’s dodge could be put down as self-defense, but hopping a railing and landing without getting hurt?

She blinked as a hand was thrust in her face and gave a weak smile. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you.”

“Jason.”

Her brain was blaring alarms, trying desperately to tell her something, but it all came out as ‘AHDKFSFHDLKSNDG’, which wasn’t all that useful.

She shook his hand.

It wasn’t until she walked into the dining room and her eyes landed on the Bruce Wayne that she finally figured everything out. Her hands flew to her mouth as she stared at him in stunned silence.

Then she wheeled on Tim and pulled him down by the collar of his shirt. “You’ve been a Wayne this whole time? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He had the decency to look sheepish. “I didn’t want you to use me for my money.”

“Please, I knew you were rich from the get-go, it wouldn’t have mattered if you were ‘goes to Disney twice a year’ rich or ‘could buy Disney if you wanted’ rich. You should have at least warned me outside the gate!”

Bruce dropped something on the desk and Marinette squeaked quietly, letting go of her captive. It was a file of some sort. Crap, was this an interrogation or something? Was that a rich people thing? Do they do in-depth research on people that talk to their kids?

The man slid the file over and she opened it to see... adoption papers?

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding,” she mumbled as she flipped through them. She glanced up at Bruce. “How did you get these so fast?”

“I have them on me at all times at this point,” he explained.

She blinked a few times and then slowly closed the file. “I’m sorry, but I have parents already.”

Everyone (except Tim) seemed stunned. She heard Jason whisper: “Is that allowed?”

Despite the slight confusion, everyone took a seat at the table. There was quite a few seats, but she was amused to see all the kids opting to sit next to her.

Dick rested his head on his hands from his spot across the table. “So, what do you know about Ladybug?”

She did her best not to tense.

“Subtle,” said Jason sarcastically from her right. He turned back to her and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, ‘bout that. He’s been obsessed since she appeared, and most of his research has been a dead end. He’s grasping at straws.”

She forced a small laugh. “I’m too clutzy to ever be Ladybug, you can ask anyone.”

Dick groaned. “And I don’t suppose you know who it is?”

“Nope.”

Jason, apparently eager to change the subject every two seconds, asked: “How’d you two meet?”

She glanced at Tim, who was shaking his head so fast she thought it’d pop off, then turned back to his brothers and father. “We met at the coffee shop. He spilled coffee on me.”

She heard Tim’s head hit the table as he groaned.

Jason was cackling. “Awwww, Tim is in a coffeeshop AU!”

Dick grinned. “Next you’ll tell me he offered you free drinks for life or something.”

“Well, actually,--.”

She couldn’t even finish, Jason was laughing so hard.

Bruce seemed less amused. “I would hope that he did, and for the shirt. too.”

She smirked and looked at Tim, who seemed to sense what she was going to do before she did it. He sent her a short look, a ‘don’t you dare’, before she spoke: “Actually, he revoked my coffee privileges.”

The poor kid sighed and closed his eyes. His father was glaring daggers at him, so, after a few seconds of him struggling, he finally gave in. “Fine, I’ll pay for coffee again.”

She cheered and gave Jason a high five.

Dick rolled his eyes. “You’re children.”

“Like you’re so much better!” Complained Jason. “You’re only two years older than me!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and reached out to poke Tim’s face until he finally looked over at her.

“He lives!” She cheered softly and he shook his head and sat up some, a smile playing across his lips.

Bruce chuckled and leaned back in his chair. He’d been watching the four for a little while. They seemed like they’d get along...

“Tim, have you invited her yet?”

Tim went red.

“I’ll take that as a no. Do you want to do it or should I?”

The kid took a deep breath to steel himself, then gently poked her shoulder for her attention. The moment she looked at him, though, he froze and couldn’t seem to get any words out.

Marinette’s head tipped to the side. “Um...?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’d like to, on behalf of my son, invite you to the Wayne Gala.”

To everyone’s surprise, the girl didn’t smile, or thank him, or really react positively at all.

Marinette released a quiet sound, like a balloon deflating, as she slumped into her seat and covered her face in her hands. Tim rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“What’s wrong?” Came Dick’s voice.

“Six!” She cried.

“You have something against musicals?” Said Jason.

She lowered her hands just enough to glare at him. “I have to make six outfits in four months.”

“You don’t have --,” began Tim.

“I have to! Make! Six outfits! In four months!”

~~~

When Marinette is done with the gala outfits will I show you what they look like?

I’ll do you one better. I’m showing them now because it took a longgggg time and I KNOW I will forget if I wait until then.

I tried to match their personalities with their posture and clothes. I kinda forgot Penny’s character though lol so now she’s kinda like Nathalie.

Also that took forever. If ya’ll want that again you gotta pay me. Christ.

~

Why is she making an outfit for Adrien if they aren’t friends?

They aren’t on bad terms, they just grew apart due to a difference in ideology. But, beyond that, she has her reasons. You’ll find out when Adrien comes by.

~~~

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