#one thing about me is i’m gonna hate on the institution of high school
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nctjpeg · 10 months ago
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random rant below lol
i get a lot of teacher and school related tiktoks on my fyp and something i think about a lot are some of the downright ridiculous dress code restrictions that schools have.
now, i’ve always been a #1 Certified School Dress Code Hater™️ for a multitude of reasons, but the thing that irks me most presently is the fact that a lot of schools have banned things like pajama pants, crocs, flip flops, blankets, and having headphones on in the hallway (not even during class!)
it really causes me to feel for the students because you’re forced to be in this building (and schools are usually super cold inside) for 8 hours or more 5 days a week, learning subjects you may or may not care about from teachers who are underpaid and overworked, the school day starts super early so you’re probably sleep deprived as fuck, surrounded by people you may or may not like, all while being a teenager in the POST-PANDEMIC American public schooling system, and they can’t wear some fucking PAJAMA PANTS??
like literally why not? why not let the kids be comfortable? why not let them have a blanket in case the classroom happens to be chilly? why not let them wear the crocs that their parents bought for them to school? and I don’t want to hear SHIT about “oh well it prepares you for college and/or the professional world” because bitch no it does not!! no it doesn’t!! there are no dress codes in college and I can literally wear yoga pants to my 9-5 corporate office job and no one gives a fuck because it doesn’t affect my competence or job performance!
also, here’s a noteworthy concept! maybe they would enjoy being at school if you treated them like human beings who can make their own decisions instead of prisoners who need to be told how to dress down to the fingertip length of their shorts and exactly what percentage of their hair can be dyed an “unnatural color”
like, these kids have already experienced unimaginable levels of uncertainty and stress from surviving a pandemic, having crucial years of social development and classroom time taken away from them due to said pandemic, watching others their age OR YOUNGER lose their lives to school shootings and LITERAL GENOCIDES, not to mention whatever personal struggles affect them and their families/loved ones. I vividly remember how MISERABLE I was as a teenager, so I cannot even imagine how the school-aged children of today feel.
in conclusion, I say if the teens of 2024 want to wear their pajama pants and crocs to school and listen to some music they like on the way to class just fucking mind your business and let them??? as long as they’re doing their work, getting passable grades, engaging with the material they’re being taught, and are being respectful towards school staff and fellow students then what they wear shouldn’t matter and that’s REALLY the lesson we should be teaching anyways.
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memecucker · 10 months ago
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Thinking about this time in college when I went to a start of year party at the dorm of my friend who also happened to become my neighbor that year and she had a roommate who I kinda like immediately clicked with like we shared similar interests and we kept returning to having conversations bc it felt like we were both interested in talking to the other and when I mentioned that I had a student membership at the Art Institute of Chicago and would study in the lounge she thought that was really cool and would like it if I could show her around it later on after she’s settled in. And I was thinking oh cool I got a date with a cool neighbor girl neat plus I’m friends with her roommate. So the next week my roommates and my friend and her roommates minus the one I was interested went out and I asked about her and my friend said she was busy and same thing next week and eventually my friend picked up that I liked her roommate and she got out that the girl I liked was trying to not sound rude and actually didn’t like going to clubs and holy shit neither did I I only came because I thought she would. So my friend said that next weekend the girl is gonna be out of town but after that she’ll try one more time to get her to come and if not she’ll throw a room party so the two of us can chat again and I can ask her out. Sweet
Anyway one of the ppl she invited was an old high school guy friend that showed up a day early (while the girl I was interested in was still out of town) to stay over and also this guy was a coke fiend that brought a lot of cocaine to share and he bragged about all the cocaine and he was bad enough of a coke fiend that he was picking it out of the carpet when the lines were finished which I thought it was funny bc it was pretty fucking shitty cocaine compared to what my ex-raver roommate had and also this guy was the son of the mayor of a Chicago suburb so he obviously has never faced consequences before type and also liked heavily quoting rap lyrics with the n word and also once left me in a room with my unconscious friend and closed the door behind him as if he was expecting me to do something and was giving a courtesy. Also got the vibe he may have invited himself over.
Anyway the next day at some point around noon the girl I was interested in came back and saw someone trashed in their living room and also broke into her room and trashed it and stole basically all the valuables and yes it was the scummy rich white boy coke fiend that somehow has coke that felt like it was cut with table salt son of Chicago suburb mayor that stole her stuff and somehow thought he’d get away with it which didn’t happen because his dad has no influence over Chicago PD or the girls family who happened to be lawyers.
So obviously she changed dorms and partially blames my friend for what happened for inviting or at least not kicking out/watching that guy and they then absolutely hated each other I won’t go into all the details.
Anyway that’s the story of how I accidentally influenced a chain of events that caused the the girl I was gonna ask out to get her room burglarized and incinerating the chances of actually getting a date bc what was I gonna say “hey remember me I’m the friend of the roommate that brought over a guy that robbed you? Wanna see the Andy Warhol exhibit?”
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lemonthepotato · 5 months ago
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Amai’s Week
I didn’t even know until today that Amai had a week, that’s how hard this game fell off. Anyway, boy do I have some criticisms.
1) We need that many ways to enter a building in a mission? Why? It ends the same no matter what. The mission is still linear.
2) The dialogue in this game is so stiff and not how people talk. Never played a Hitman mission where the target said “I’m going to be here at X time, doing Y thing, blah blah blah” but Amai is kind enough to specify the times she’ll be serving food. Yeah, it’s kind of intuitive to not exit the classroom and start serving octodogs, the cooking club should know it’ll only be at morning, lunch and after school.
3) Amai’s sabotage events are so silly. I remember jokingly thinking “what? are we going to be giving him a pink apron or something?” as a JOKE. And then it HAPPENED, essentially. These characters are meant to be adults LARPing as teenagers but even a teenager has more maturity than “oh, you made an apron I didn’t like!” What? Did Ayano draw a swastika on it or another hate symbol? The game refers to it as a ‘lame’ apron, which implies it’s more likely that Ayano used a bland colour scheme. I’m sorry, but “I wanted a black apron but you made me a pink one, that offends me” is not on the same level. And by the way- if Amai’s food is giving people food poisoning due to Ayano’s sabotage, why is she still allowed to run the bake sale???
I was genuinely thinking “surely, it’s more going in this direction” during the picnic talk. It was. So, what? Amai is supposed to control the insects?
If you sabotage all of Amai’s events, Senpai should get the sense that she’s a BAD COOK. Literally all. Her sabotage events are NOT enough to warrant being cut off or rejected.
4) I like how no one in this game questions a giant ass water fountain placed randomly in a room.
5) THE LOVE CONFESSION DOESN’T MAKE AMAI LOOK GOOD, EITHER. Who the FUCK says “yeah, I know I’ve known you for a week, but I was actually pissed at you for mourning your dead friend because… what about me???”
OKAY, TO BE FAIR, THAT “MAKE SURE YOU KEEP THAT IN MIND” LINE FROM AYANO GOES HARD ASF 🔥
6) Okay lol I just. I love how funny Kizana is.
I like to imagine Ayano and Senpai are in some Truman Show situation where Info-chan is just hiring all these colourful personalities to rizz Senpai to create the craziest situations ever. Like Ayano is just some institutionalised person who was dragged out by a studio to be exploited in her dire mental state. Can’t wait to get Kizana in 2025 and Oka in 2026.
Look I’m an Amai defender but spitting in someone’s food is VILE. The reason I don’t go to… let’s call it OldRonalds is because three employees spat in my food. I had three occasions. Yeah, wasn’t risking a fourth. AND IT’S IMPLIED SHE DID THIS SEVERAL TIMES. That is NASTY.
7) Yeah I definitely talk to myself when cooking. That’s totally normal.
8) SHE TELEPORTS IMMEDIATELY TO THE FLOOR. ALSO HOW WOULD NO ONE HEAR THAT???
9) A small pet peeve of mine over the years is the line “oh my god! is that a dead body?” when talking about their classmates. Akademi is a small school, where everyone should know each other. Maybe- like “Oh my god! [character’s surname, because it’s Japan, or whatever their nickname is considering Akademi has nicknames]? A-are you okay? I need to get help!”
10) Ben Shoku-ro asks us to essentially stalk Amai. Very normal. See, this is why I headcanon that Akademi is just a mental institution disguised as some… high school LARP. A very ineffective one, too.
11) I like how everyone has the exact same criticism with the exact same wording towards Amai’s cooking.
12) “You shoot 100% of the takes you don’t miss” is such a funny quote. No shit Sherlock.
13) “juvenile delinquent” aren’t they 18? C’mon, if you’re gonna use the “they’re actually 18” excuse, be consistent about it.
14) Welcome to Writing 101. In Inkyu and Sakyu’s conversation on Friday, the pink one (Inkyu, I believe) says “however?” While Inkyu is gathering her thoughts. It doesn’t add tension to the scene, they’re talking about fucking studying. It happens twice, actually. It’s awkward and drags on too long. I’m a writer, not a programmer, but surely there has to be a way to make the dialogue end faster?
Also Horuda canonically drawing kill art is real asf. She is not okay in the head and is expressing her emotions to avoid doing something dangerous. This is what we call showing, not telling. This is something this game struggles at.
15) Wait, Kyuji stalking Osana is a bounty? What if the player match made them? Is the game seriously gonna punish you for doing the pacifist route?
16) Why can Toga walk on bushes???
Okay if Senpai’s new personality is himbo than I kinda fw him.
HELP DID YANDEREDEV FORGET TOGA WASN’T A CREEP SO HAD TO RETCON IT?? Same with Horo, though I think Horo being weird was inferred by the demon Easter egg.
17) Also, another general criticism, but the dialogue in this game is so wonky. Instead of “Hey, blah blah, did you know blah blah dislikes gossip?” It could be “Hey, blah blah, X said to me gossipers were all evil people. Ridiculous, right? Who doesn’t gossip from time to time? Guess that’s what I’m doing” or something shorter than that. And things like money and violence shouldn’t even be discussable topics. I’m sorry but “Hey, Horuda Umetsu, did you know Amai Odayaka dislikes violence” would receive an “okay? don’t we all?” IRL. Like even though Horuda is prone to violence no one’s going around shaming people for disliking it WTF.
(Edit: Btw, before Amai came out, I made my own version of Amai’s week a year ago, along with the other rivals, but honestly? They suck. I’ll add them anyway, if you wanna check them out, but I got lazy halfway through and began half assing stuff: Amai, Kizana, Oka, Asu, Muja, Mida, Osoro, Hanako, Megami. I’m not saying these are better than the game. The way I characterised Kizana, for example? Canon Kizana is much better. The writing on these posts were somehow cringier than the actual writing. Why share it then? Dunno. I like humiliating myself? Oddly, I got a lot of nice DM’s from people about them at the time. I also made a shitty AU.) (I have more posts over there, like a mission mode concept ending) (also, it was only a year ago, but I feel like my writing has improved a ton since then)
Addendum: Not sure if I gave the impression I support YandereDev. I don’t.
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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 2 years ago
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Double Edged Sword
Part 1
A/n: Decided to not do an x reader with this one and actually indulge myself with the oc I’ve been picturing for this specific scenario. I’ve had a lot of OC’s that I tuck away when I do imagines but this time, I’m gonna just include him, even though I know my already bare bones interaction will go down. This one is for me <3
Side note: This is an ot3 fic between my OC (Sam), Xavier and Tyler that goes into a lot of stuff that I hc about this series. I think I have a very different interpretation of these characters than most people do so like. Keep that in mind.
Word Count: 5,000+
Warnings: implied domestic abuse, manipulation.
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Wednesday Addams hated Nevermore Academy. She hated everything about it, like the therapist who wanted to peek into her mind, even though Wednesday knew the second she did she’d run screaming. There wasn’t even a point to trying. Like the mean girl siren who had a shitty attitude and thought she was better than everyone else - just like every annoying mean girl that ran these stupid institutions of torture. Like the meaningless classes that didn’t teach Wednesday anything she didn’t already know from her family. The fact that said family haunted every inch of the school, and that every step she took had already been taken by one of her parents. Like her roommate. God, she hated her roommate more than anything else here.
Enid Sinclair had only one redeeming quality: her brother.
Sam was... interesting. Enid had admitted to not being able to go full wolf like she was supposed to be able to at her age. Sam, on the other hand, was apparently a prodigy. He had wolfed out for the very first time when he was startlingly young. He never talked about what had set him off, as it hadn’t been on a full moon, or even at night, but everyone knew that he was one of the youngest werewolves to fully transform known through history.
Enid was all sunshine and different shades of pink and dyed hair and multicolored nails. She was cotton candy personified, rays of sunshine sprinkling from her wavy, blonde hair. Sam was bitter and biting and arms crossed, rolling eyes. He wasn’t drawn to black the way Wednesday was, he just didn’t care all that much about fashion in general. Which wasn’t weird for boys, I suppose, but compared to Enid it was startling. He was a fan of sweat pants and tshirts on the days he didn’t have to wear his school uniform, where he could always be found with a non-matching hoodie underneath his blazer. The only thing he and Enid had in common was a necklace - one with a lock, and one with a key. Enid’s key hadn’t made sense at first, until Sam had changed into his usual tshirt with a short amount of time and had run out with the small lock moving along his chest as he ran to catch up with his twin and her friends.
Wednesday liked Sam. He wasn’t Addams weird, but he didn’t treat Wednesday like a freak. He seemed to follow her logic just fine enough. She realized a little too late that it was because he wasn’t a talker; he was a listener. That’s what they had in common. When everyone spoke, Sam was the one who heard every single word. To the point that when Enid made Wednesday a snood and the black haired girl made a comment that it would be a fitting piece of clothing to wear to a funeral, Sam snorted in the corner. “A high compliment,” he remarked. And Enid rolled her eyes, thinking him sarcastic, and left. But Wednesday Rose and eyebrow, stunned at this man as he looked at her knowingly.
“How did you know I like funerals?”
That question seemed to amuse him. “If you liked anything, it would be the things that other people hated. Dead or vicious plants instead of roses or daffodils. Black before any other color. Comments that were insults, are compliments. You like the quiet and the dark. The stormy, cold weather, and the loneliness that comes with silence - both that would drive a normal person crazy if they indulged in it for too long. But not you, hm?”
Wednesday thought him a genius. Not just because he had perfect grades, but because he saw and understood so much more than others did. And he wasn’t just like this with her either. He had a perceptiveness for every student.
So when Wednesday got looped in some kind of murder mystery, of course she included her clever friend.
He was in a lot of ways, the Sherlock to her Watson. Or... perhaps the other way around. They both had an unapproachable way of being, it was hard to tell which was who.
“You’re definitely Sherlock,” Sam told her one day when she jokingly referred to him as the detective. She rose a questioning eyebrow but he was already answering her unspoken question without needing to be prompted. “You’re the logical one. The one who’s willing to do whatever it takes to get the facts. The one who walks into a room, and only stays if there is something interesting. I’m the people person. You get facts, I get living beings. They make sense to me. And... perhaps that wasn’t Watson’s exact thing?” He shrugged. “I’ll learn how to be a doctor for you.”
Wednesday smiled.
She decided he was officially her best friend.
The thing that really sold it was that while Enid and Eugene were great, they both were easily scared and put off. Wednesday often had to forcibly drag them into trouble... and that wasn’t fair. Sam went willingly. Eagerly, even. So although Wednesday still had lots of fun in the Hummers with Eugene, she also had taken the initiative to drag Sam after her into the club as well. And though she ended up being at Enid’s side during the Poe Cup, her eyes sought Sam’s in the crowd when everyone cheered her on and she felt lost in people who would have otherwise hated her in any other situation. Who did hate her.
He was there every time she went to fine more answers. Every break in, whether to a mortuary (where Sam had to hide under the office desk with bated breath, sneaking out a window and hoping the best for Wednesday when the mortician and the sheriff went into the morgue, where his best friend had gone to look at the bodies) or a secret library (getting kidnapped wasn’t that bad, but she did get a little more aggressive than she probably should have when she looked around and realized she could not see where Sam was... it turns out that he was just behind all the other students, bling folded and gagged, but still) or even Xavier Thorpe’s personal art studio, he was there for all of it.
In the shed, Sam and Wednesday looked around with wide eyes at the paintings of the beast that they had seen in the woods. Wednesday had now seen it twice, Sam only once, but it was burned into both of their minds. Wednesday looked at Sam. “You’ve been here for a few years longer than me. You know Xavier, right?”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah. We were friends once.” He always did that when Wednesday asked about something personal. Brushed it off, or minimized what had actually happened. He did it the most with Xavier... and Tyler Galpin, of all people. Wednesday didn’t know what was going on with the three boys, but she couldn’t be nice about it this time. She needed Sam’s insight.
“Do you think he’s the beast?”
Sam didn’t react shocked, or even offended, as so many people did when you accused people they knew of being horrible, evil things. He thought about it logically. “The art is weird,” he admitted. “But I know what Xavier’s ability is. He’s an animator. He can make pictures move, or even bring them to life outside of the page. He can’t turn into a beast. And if he did... I mean, what kind of creature would need such a set of skills?”
Wednesday hadn’t thought of that. Evolution created creatures, even supernatural ones. The parts of your genetics that were different in order to make room for abilities, they all connected. They made sense. Most people had mental abilities or physical abilities. It was such a weird match to be able to play with pictures, and then also turn into a horrible monster when the moon was out.
Wednesday sighed. “So probably not Xavier?”
“Probably not,” Sam agreed. She appreciated that he didn’t shut her down totally, or get angry or even emotional, or call her crazy. He was being completely fair to her accusations. It was one of the reasons she liked him - he would consider things logically, even if he didn’t like the implications of the thing he had to consider.
“Well then.” She lowered her bag to let Thing back inside, then pulled it onto her back again. “That’s all that we’re going to find here. Let’s-“
Sam put a single finger to his lips and Wednesday went silent immediately. Sam’s head tilted, his blonde hair glinting in the artificial light as he closed his eyes, listening intently to whatever he was hearing outside. That was another perk to having a werewolf as your partner in crime: super senses.
“Someone outside,” he whispered very quietly. His eyes opened and then his lips pressed together in an unreadable expression. “It’s Xavier.”
Wednesday asked, “Do we have time to get out of the shed without him seeing us?” Sam shook his head no. Wednesday looked for a place to hide, but immediately realized that was also a bad idea. She looked at the blonde. “What’s the plan, Watson?” He was the people expert after all.
Dutifully, Sam met her eyes and she could see the cogs of his thought process clicking in place. “Wait here.” And that insane man simply walked outside the shed. Wednesday watched with parted lips, surprised at him. She stayed absolutely silent though... partly to keep hidden, and partly so she could hear what was about to happen.
Sam closed the shed, and began to walk away from it. A heart beat’s later, he heard, “Sam?”
The blonde turned to the other person there, and felt himself naturally grow awkward and stiff. Yes, this was good. “Xavier,” he greeted shortly. He swallowed. “I knocked but, you didn’t answer.”
“Yeah,” Xavier nodded. “Probably because I wasn’t inside.”
“As I can see.” Sam’s hands intertwined behind his back. His knuckles went white as he gripped his wrists, trying to brace himself for what he was about to do. “Well. Hi.”
Xavier huffed in amusement. “Hi.” A pause. “Is there... a reason you’re here?”
And here is where Sam ended. He came to terms with the fact that this conversation would kill him. “I haven’t been here in a while. Sorry to just show up. I just, I had to ask-“ he cut off, his voice shaking. Xavier Rose an eyebrow. So did Wednesday, inside the shed. Sam had been here before? Interesting. “The R-“ Nope, that word stuck in his throat too. He cleared it, suddenly unable to look away from Xavier. He was frozen solid. “I thought I might be allowed to bother you, as- well, you see- I know that soon, we have a certain... event, coming up,” Sam choppily managed. Xavier’s eyes widened in surprise as he understood.
“The Rav’n?”
Wednesday covered her mouth inside the shed. Holy shit.
Sam swallowed again. “Look, I-“ He cleared his throat again. “I know we haven’t been friends in a long time, and we were never really together or anything. But I don’t have a date, and J thought, for old time’s sake, we could maybe go together. Since this is the first time you won’t have a date either.”
Xavier slowly smiled, small and unsure, but there. “As friends?”
Sam’s claws grew just a little, digging into his skin. “If you want.”
Xavier didn’t answer at first. Then he started to walk toward Sam, his smiling fading to something more personal. More tender. When they were just about chest to chest, Xavier slowly rose a hand to touch Sam’s cheek. Sam gasped and Xavier seemed to revel in it. “I didn’t think... you’d ever react to me like that again.” Sam’s eyes fluttered and Xavier’s hand shot away. He softly chuckled under his breath. “And to think last time, you were so-“
“Xavier,” Sam whispered, eyes closed. “I’m trying to be friends with you again. What we had before - it’s off limits.” He opened his eyes, looking up at the giant of a boy. “I don’t want that again. I’m trying to resurrect our friendship again. Our friendship only.”
Xavier went quiet for a second. His smile was gone. “Yeah. Sure, that would be- you and me. At the Rav’n.”
A very old part of Sam screamed with joy, too weak and small to actually effect enough of Sam to garner a reaction of any kind. He just nodded. “I’ll see you there then.” And then he turned and began to walk away.
Xavier, ever so predictable, followed. “Sam, wait!” Sam may have had shorter legs, but he took faster steps, and he found himself much more familiar with the woods than even Xavier was. So he stayed ahead just fine. Not too far to discourage Xavier from following, but enough that when Wednesday slipped out of the shed, Xavier was too busy to notice.
Distracted by his friend’s escape, Sam misjudged how far ahead he was and was surprisingly pulled to a stop by a firm grip on his wrist. He spun around to face a frantic Xavier. For a horrible second, he thought he was about to be kissed. A kiss would have ruined everything. He would have broken, right then and there, and all the last months of what he had worked so hard to build would have immediately broken down. They’d have been right back to where they were before, and Sam would have been miserable but too wrapped up to try and escape a second time.
What he got instead was a hug. He had a different surrender with this act of affection. Not something passionate and painful, though it did have a twist in his gut that stung. No, this was a slower thing. Warmer. An easy melt into the taller boy’s arms. Sam’s eyes closed and despite his hesitation, he hugged back, burying his face in Xavier’s neck.
“I missed you,” Xavier whispered.
Sam tried not to say it, but... there really wasn’t any point now. So he did the first honest thing he had in months. “I missed you too.”
When they parted, Sam didn’t make eye contact. He just turned and her lined it for the school. This time, Xavier let him go. Sam was relieved - he didn’t want anyone to see the stupid tears that rolled down his cheeks, making darker marks on his grey sweater.
-
He had more than pulled himself together by the time he reached Wednesday’s room. Their rendezvous. Sam didn’t cry much, just a tear or two, and especially when he had already shed too many tears over the stupid artist that had so infuriatingly much control over the blonde boy.
Wednesday turned when she heard her door open. She knew it wasn’t Enid - they had coordinated today to Enid’s schedule so she’d be busy when they needed to meet for scheming, and a little after if they needed to discuss it. Sam wasn’t supposed to be in here, being a boy, but he had perfected sneaking in at this point.
Wednesday crossed her arms over her chest. Sam sighed, already knowing what she was silently demanding. “I told you we used to be friends.”
She scoffed. “I beg to differ.”
Sam sighed, plopping onto the ground. “I... don’t know what else to tell you Wednesday. We were just friends.”
Her eyes narrowed. “With benefits?”
He barked a laugh, bitter and short. “No. The most we ever did was kiss, and it was only a few times. It was-“ he cut off, looking away. His face twisted. She let him have his moment, but he knew she needed to know the facts. She needed to know how much he was involved in her prime suspect. If his dismissal earlier had been genuine or defensive. “Xavier and I used to be best friends. And then... I don’t know, he dated someone who hurt him.”
“Bianca?” Wednesday asked, doubtful.
Sam looked at her again. “Tyler Galpin.”
Oh.
Wednesday was silent for a long time, mulling over that. “And then he messed up Xavier’s mural?���
Sam nodded. “I came to Nevermore my first year with Enid. We were here with Xavier, who I hit it off with pretty quickly. Last year, my friendship with Xavier became... strained. He dated this guy I hadn’t even registered on my radar. A normie, of all people, was more of a lure to him than I was. Tyler was better than me somehow. And it got messy, because this will-they-won’t-they we had going on for so long just screeched to a halt very suddenly.” He chuckled fondly. “Enid hated Xavier for so long.” He shook his head, slowly turning sad again. “We started a new school year, and Xavier was excited because we had our first normie teacher too. And I liked her, we all do. She’s amazing. So I started to be more open minded about Tyler. And then...” he shrugged. “Tyler started to act weird. He grew distant and agitated and started to hang out with different friends than he used to at his school. And suddenly, he got into a lot more arguments with Xavier. And then the mural happened and they haven’t really talked since.”
Wednesday mulled over that. “Where did Biance come in?”
Sam nodded. That was a fair follow up question. “He turned inward when he and Tyler broke it off. And he and I... we were awkward. Apparently he knew Bianca through his dad even before they got here, so they started to talk more. Someone he didn’t have all this complicated history with. Well, when they started dating at the beginning of the year, I took my distance from him. I couldn’t deal with being in love with someone who was willing to date normies and strangers and everyone else other than me.” He shrugged. “So I lied to him, and I told him that I didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. And they broke up eventually, but we never started talking again. I never really gave him a reason to cut it off. I guess he assumes it was because of her. And it kind of is, but mostly... we were already falling apart. And I didn’t want to watch him get hurt again. I couldn’t keep wanting him, wanting us, when he didn’t. Bianca was just the last straw. The final proof I needed that he didn’t want me.” He scoffed at himself. “I’m such a petty asshole. Why can’t I just be happy that he’s happy like a normal pining best friend?”
“Movies aren’t real,” Wednesday answered immediately. Sam looked at her, genuinely touched at her response. It had been exactly what he’d wanted to hear. “And frankly, not setting boundaries or putting your own needs first is super toxic. You taking space is the mature thing to do. And I- I’m sorry you broke that for me. And thank you too.”
Sam smiled. “For you Wednesday, anything.” He stood up, moving to her bed where she sat. He leaned against the bed itself instead of her, but the proximity was affection alone for Wednesday, who hated being touched and who equally liked her space. “This means you have to go with me though. To the Rav’n. Get a date.”
Wednesday gave him a withering glare, setting Sam into belly shaking laughter. Unfortunately, she could not longer be mad at him like this.
But she could pretend to be. So she shoved him and he went rolling, falling into a giggly mess. And while he wasn’t looking she managed a small smile. She was glad he could enjoy himself after recounting memories that obviously hurt him. He was a lot... lighter, since she had come into his life. She’d never had that effect on anyone before.
They really were best friends.
-
Sam stayed outside the police department when Wednesday went inside to try and align herself with the sheriff. He should have known better. With his luck, it only made sense that he’d run into Tyler Galpin out here, by himself.
Now, Sam and Tyler didn’t really have all that much going on personally. They’d always been too awkward around each other to say or do anything. First because Tyler had called day one that Sam was in love with Xavier, and then because Tyler had ruined Xavier’s mural, and they hadn’t really seen each other after that. Not until Wednesday had come to Nevermore, and started to hang out with Tyler, forcing him and Sam to be in the same vicinity way too many times for either of their comfort.
Through her they had at least held one normal conversation, but the awkwardness had only lessened slightly. “Hey,” Tyler greeted.
“Hey,” Sam returned.
They were quiet for a moment. “You get in trouble on your own this time?”
Sam shook his head, but a small smile did make the corners of his mouth twitch a little bit. This Tyler was different than they one that had dated Xavier, but... for once, there were peeks of who he used to be then. He had always been funny and welcoming and friendly. A little out of place, but nice if nothing else. This Tyler was... nice, too, but also a little sad. His smiles were smaller and his confusion and irritation was a lot more common. He had found Wednesday to be intriguing day one, but didn’t joke around or flirt or play like he had once. He was a lot more low energy these days and Sam couldn’t figure out if he had a crush on the Addams girl or just a strange fascination. Sam had to admit he had grown a little fond of him though, either way. At that peak of the old Tyler, the one that Sam had managed to have a slight friendship with despite.... everything else.
“Not this time,” Sam answered. “Wednesday’s here to speak to the chief. She’s making headway on this case of ours, but we can’t totally do it by ourselves.”
Tyler made a strange expression. One that was a bit pained - almost like a wince, but with a smile too full of amusement for that. “Good luck with that. He isn’t really a team player. Especially if he doesn’t have to.”
Sam nodded. “That’s what I said. But you know Wednesday, she won’t listen to me.”
“That tracks.” Tyler slid his hands into his pants pockets. As if to start small talk, he asked, “You have a date the Rav’n?”
Sam had always answered no. Now he felt awkward, especially having to tell Tyler of all people. “Yes, actually, I do.” Tyler’s eyebrow rose and now Sam knew he couldn’t get out of this one. “With Xavier.”
Tyler grew suddenly awkward. “Oh.” Sam let a sharp breath out of his nose, nodding. Tyler watched the reaction, tilting his head a bit. “Aren’t you guys...”
“Not talking?” Sam finished. “We weren’t. I sort of did it as a... in... to...” Sam sighed, rubbing his face. “I guess it was really just an act of self preservation.”
Tyler rose both eyebrows this time. “So you’re totally fine with this and not torturing yourself at all then?”
At that, Sam had to admit that maybe the normie boy knew him a little too well. Perhaps they had more history than Sam had ever allowed himself to admit.
He didn’t get a chance to answer. Wednesday came out of the station, in a horrible mood. “Tyler,” she greeted.
“Wednesday,” he greeted in the same fashion.
“Avoid your father today.” She glared, but although her eyes were on Tyler both boys knew it wasn’t a look meant for him. “He’s in a particularly frustrating form today. Avoid.”
Tyler seemed to find that a bit funny. “Welcome to my world.” There was bitterness in his words though, and Sam’s eyebrows came together. Hold on, what? What had he missed in the last while since he had dated Xander? Because sure, yeah, since Tyler’s mom died there had been a lot of tension between him and his dad, but they were all around agreed to at least a truce. Now his passive teasing and throw away comments that weren’t all that deep had weight, and the way he looked at the station had a certain darkness to it.
It made Sam think of how different Tyler had really been since the mural incident. He wondered if maybe something had been set off by his dad. Maybe that was why he’d lashed out? Gotten different friends?
“We were talking about Sam taking Xavier to the Rav’n,” Tyler spoke again as a way to ease the silence. Wednesday rolled her eyes and grabbed Sam’s arm, dragging him away. Even before Sam had asked Xavier, Wednesday’s attitude toward the dance had been biting. So when Tyler and Sam made eye contact as the blonde was dragged away, they couldn’t help but exchange a rather amused smile.
How very Wednesday.
-
While Wednesday moved her theory board into the Hummer base to give Enid her space away from the horrifying images, Sam took initiative. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Tyler’s biting comment against his father, and an older part of him that had once cared about the boy dating her best friend was back. Even if Tyler played such a different role in his life...
So he went back to his dorm and pulled out the box from under his bed. The box was covered in dust. He ignored the sick feeling that settled into his gut at that realization.
Inside was a diary, and a lot of pictures. Ones that used to hang up around Sam’s room. Now he looked at them. Pictures of the Nightshades, out of mask, all poses broken into blurry laughter. The top half of Sam’s forehead and one hand, in the shape of peace sign, were at the bottom of the frame. He remembered how they’d all posed so properly, wanting to put a picture up like the one with Morticia Addams, but they’d burst into laughter when Sam had suddenly shoved himself in the picture, only to fail as he was also the one taking it. The ultima the photo bomb.
Almost were with Xavier. There was one of his friends, and not him. Sam had always had a passion for photography... one that he’d lost when he’d stopped being friends with Xavier. It had been a form of bonding between them, their passions for art.
Sam pushed past that as he sought out all the ones with Tyler. He had dated them all on the back, and pinned them up in chronological order.
It was clearer than ever like this. The pictures started with the trio of boys all being rather goofy and touchy and having fun. Even though Tyler knew about Sam’s feelings, he had never been bitter or possessive. He’d only pointed it out as praise - thankful that Sam was trying to be his friend and trying to make this work despite his own feelings, for Xavier’s sake. At the beginning, they’d been awkward, but Sam supposed that really, they’d become friends too in a way.
There.
As he moved down the timeline, he was shocked to see that it really wasn’t as gradual a change as he remembered. There was no difference between the days - only between the change and after the change. The change wasn’t even on the day of the mural. It was rather suddenly, just before the beginning of the previous school year. It went from pictures of sloppy kisses and rough housing and laying all in a pile and laughing, to a very suddenly dark picture taken at night. Fairy lights were around and above them. It was obvious they were in Xavier’s shed, wrapped up in sweaters and blankets. They had a projector playing a movie that was paused. Tyler had started crying. He had curled up in Xavier’s lap, his face buried into Xavier’s stomach. At the time Sam had thought it adorable and had taken a picture. He’d seen it as a new stepping stone to their relationship. It was surface level or nervous or awkward anymore, they were allowed to be quiet and soft and a little bit intimate. In that moment, Sam had felt sickeningly jealous, and had meant to give the picture away to Xavier afterward. But then he’d thrown it in this box and forgotten about it.
The pictures after that very quickly showed differences. Tyler didn’t smile as wide, and he seemed much more tired. Slowly his old normie friends faded out, replaced at first one at a time, and then very suddenly all at once by the outcast-hating friends he’d started to have. Within a week they were all replaced, and only ever showed up in pictures that Xavier and Sam weren’t in. Sam watched in horror as Tyler got further and further away from his boyfriend, the distance between them literally getting wider as people started to be suddenly inserted between them or Tyler lounged further away or preferred to watch Xavier paint from a distance than up close and cuddled like he had before.
How had Sam not seen it before?
All the new friends were popular kids in Tyler’s other school. One was the mayor’s son. Kids that Tyler’s father had always encouraged to be friends with Tyler instead of Xavier and Sam. Because they all hated outcasts just as much as the sheriff did.
For a horrible moment, Sam held into doubt. Held onto the idea that a father would never... but, then, that was wrong. Fathers hurt their sons all the time.
What if they hadn’t just grown distant? What if they weren’t just separated by how they grieved over Tyler’s mother? What if the sheriff wasn’t really content on letting his son date an outcast?
Sam’s face set in a dark expression. He better be wrong. Because if he wasn’t, he was about to destroy Donovan Galpin.
Even if it was the last thing he ever did.
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taylorthrift · 2 years ago
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Taylor Made: Me a Rockstar
I promise that the details may be boring but that’s why the lesson is worth the read.  I believe strongly that the goal of art is not to entertain but to move the receiver and evoke change.  This is a story of one of the many times Taylor Swift’s music changed my life in a real real way.
Back in 2015 I had a problem of engaging some very serious people with a topic that they were not going to care about.  
I was responsible for delivering an IT speech at a poli sci conference run by the nonprofit that I was a part of. In attendance were academics, activists, journalists, and wonks from the national political scene. Very much not what you would picture as an IT crowd-let alone a Taylor Swift crowd.  These were a few dozen bright minds in the field of political science, studying democracy and the threat of money in politics.
So 8am, Sat May 30, 2015-day 1 of a 2 day conference of very serious people talking about very serious things-none of whom care anything about technology-have to listen to some nerd talk about data.
I started by reading from my notecards: “They say you are supposed to open a speech with an inspiring quote.” I nervously turn the notecard over-feigning public speaking anxiety for the punchline-”Haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate and the Fakers gonna fake fake fake fake fake.  I’m just gonna shake shake shake shake shake-Shake it off.  Shake it off.”
The gathered attendees who moments ago were barely keeping their eyes open, their faces filled with the dread of a school day lecture, were now bursting in laughter.  I threw the note cards away and started my presentation...
Fast forward to the end:The energy level of the audience is so great that I ask of them to let me do a running high-five-and they grant it excitedly.  Afterwards, all these important people come to talk to me about job ideas and my presentation style and wanting to get me in front of lawmakers to explain things to them.  Two things stand out about the compliments I receive.
Everyone loved the Taylor Swift quote
Everyone loved my willingness to be a parody of myself and not take things so seriously-even when everyone else was.
(Low key though-I learned #2 from Taylor too (Blank Space/Shake it Off))
Fast forward a few months and the Board of Directors awards me a new job title.  It’s a job title I’d been seeking for years 
Rockstar
Literally Rockstar.  Rockstar of the National Institute on Money in State Politics. 
Taylor helped me feel like a Rockstar, and her music showed me how. Even back in 2015 Taylor’s music was changing us-changing me.
I was someone a decade older than her-and I was listening and applying her brilliance to my own work and becoming better for it.  Taylor was never JUST a popstar.
I just want people-but especially Taylor-to know that this happened in the world.
That all these self important political wonks were swifties too.  
That using what her music and attitudes taught me helped give me the biggest win of my professional career.
That she’s more successful as an artist than any award, accolade or fortune will ever EVER reflect.
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kouriin · 2 years ago
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O lost my virginity being raped at a party when I was 15 and then I was raped again by a man in a bar when I was 16, and the only person I had to talk was my brother, who raped me too later, using my secrets against me as blackmail, especially bc I started doing some drugs to deal with things and he found out… so he threatened me and I lost the only person I ever trusted. And after all that my “best friend” sexually abused me while we were high on coke. And I had to forgive him, because I’m afraid if I say something he’ll expose all my secrets and somehow turn this around and fuck my life. And my parents never dealt with my brother. And I told them. They said it was partially my fault for not standing up for myself and not saying anything before. But how could I if I never trusted them? If they always left me alone and when I was 14 and trying to slit my wrists they shamed me and screamed how I was a little brat that didn’t knew what pain was… when I was constantly bullied at school because everybody thought I was stupid and weird… just because I was the “quiet one”. Not to mention the physical abuse I received as a child and teenager. I have gaps in my memory from years of neglect, they turned my brother into a sociopath and me into a borderline with pstd. I hate life. I overdosed two times this week. But it’s okay, all an accident right? But what about the millions of times that were not accidental? The times when I was tubbed? Had to go to a mental institution? Rehab? And I’m never fixed. I’m broken for good. I pretend I’m dying when I go to sleep to ease my anxiety… just to think, not another morning, no college, no work, no people to worry about. No more harm. I’m so done. I just don’t know when I’m gonna take that rope and really end it. I guess I’m just waiting, one more bruise, that last drop of water. I just can’t picture a future in which I’m happy in it. I’m lost in the darkness. It’s a good thing I like to play dead in dark rooms.
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majorbaby · 2 years ago
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The thing about Potter is that while he may hate the war, he still loves the army and believes it’s an upstanding institution. He doesn’t grapple with that nearly as much as Margaret does. Plus I have way less sympathy for some high-ranking white dude than I do for Margaret, who is shown being fucked over all the time by the army because she’s a woman and furthermore by the end she decides it isn’t for her. Like I think we’re meant to understand that she’s ultimately unhappy and dissatisfied with her career in the army, and she doubts her life choices.  One of the casualties of Potter’s regular-army-shtick is Klinger, who has to learn this ‘maybe the army isn’t so bad after all’ lesson repeatedly as a trade-off for the development of his and Potter’s relationship. Hawkeye gets the same lesson a few times and it’s just as grating then, but he also has way more screen-time with which to re-assert his morals to us.I don’t doubt that Hawkeye maintains his low opinion of the army for the rest of his life. But we’re meant to understand that Klinger undergoes this arc that sees him as being obsessed with getting out of the army to being kind of okay with it, and even having respect for it, because he knew a colonel once who was a pretty nice guy. Potter being a good dude means that he’s a good dude, not that the army facilitates the production of good dudes, and I didn’t like whenever the show leaned into the latter rather than the former.  And it really gets to me that they had Klinger, the one brown guy on the show (you’re gonna hear me that a lot around here) convey this messaging. I think it’s pretty annoying that Potter’s armyisms are dismissed by the gang as being the old-timey quirks of a grumpy, but charming, old man, or are otherwise framed as being on the moral high-ground opposite HawkBeej who simply don’t understand how terribly hard it is to be a high-ranking army official. Like compare that to Hawkeye and Trapper telling Henry to fuck off whenever he tried that shit lol. That’s not a slight to BJ and Hawkeye’s dynamic, it’s a slight to the overall tone of the show as it progressed.
Lastly, I’m not saying that Potter isn’t allowed to miss his family or his wife, but I don’t think his army doctor career is comparable to BJ’s being plucked fresh out of medical school. I bring up BJ in particular because he and Potter seem to bond over the army wife thing, but Potter choosing to split his life between the army and his family isn’t the same as BJ being forced to leave his wife and child. 
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starshine583 · 4 years ago
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New Girl on the Block (10)
(New update coming in and things are getting heated!!! I wonder how our lovely little group’s gonna handle it??)
Ch.1 / Ch.9 / Ch. 11
Chapter 10: Adrenaline Rush
Possible Schools:
Rosemary High
Skyline Academy
Angelwood Institute
Liberty High
Summerfield Academy
Clearwater Institute
A sigh passed through Adrien’s lips as he crossed out the last name on his list, matching it with the other failed attempts. He just didn’t understand. Why was it so hard to find Marinette’s school? All he needed to do was search for high schools in the area and ask the students at each school whether she attended or not. It seemed simple enough at the time, but now another week and a half has gone by, and he’s no closer to finding her than he was two weeks ago when he asked for her school name as Chat Noir. 
Adrien set his pencil down and rubbed a hand over his face. He could have sworn she said ‘Rosemary’ last time they talked, but that blonde guy insisted that there weren’t any new students there. Maybe he just hadn’t met her yet? No, that didn’t make any sense. School had already started by then. Adrien assumed the guy would notice if he suddenly had a new classmate. 
Ugh. If only he could visit her again.. Between patrol with his lady, akuma attacks, homework, and photoshoots, going out as Chat Noir to see Marinette was nearly impossible. He really needed to have a talk with Nathalie about getting more free time.
“Alya, Marinette is killing me!” 
Adrien glanced up from his paper- That’s right, he’s supposed to be working on his own school right now -just in time to see Lila wiping fake tears from her eyes as she walked into the classroom. Although they still had a good five or ten minutes before class started, she was the only who wasn’t currently seated at her desk, and judging by her greeting, Adrien was going to assume that she entered last on purpose.
“What!” Alya gasped, standing up from her desk to meet Lila halfway. “What did she do now?”
Lila sniffed and accepted the comforting hug that Alya offered. “She’s been sending me awful messages all week! Telling me she hates me and insulting me and that I should’ve just stayed in Italy where I belonged.”
Adrien shifted in his seat to hear the conversation better, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Another scheme to slander Marinette’s good name.. Why did Lila still feel the need to lie about her? The ravenette was gone, completely transferred to another school, too far to even breath about Lila’s fabrications. There was no reason to turn their classmates further against her. (if that was even possible at this point)
“She told you what?!” Alya blanched, pulling back to grab Lila’s shoulders. “I can’t believe her! wasn’t sabotaging the forms you needed to be class president enough? Why can’t she leave you alone!”
Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Now that lie had a reason to it. He knew first hand how thick those stacks of forms can be since he’s helped Marinette carry them a few times, and Lila was obviously too lazy or too unqualified (or both) to sift through all of that mess by herself. What Adrien didn’t understand about the lie, though, was why she had to drag Marinette into it. Again. Why not lie about feeling unwell? Or simply ask for time to adjust to the role that had practically been dumped onto her? Any of those excuses would not only have been easier to say, as they didn’t involve anyone but herself, but they probably would have been accepted just as wholly. So why? It was as though Marinette became a crutch for Lila, which he supposed made sense. Building onto a widely accepted lie would be much simpler than creating a million small lies, but it certainly came with a risk. For example, if Adrien were to, say, kick that crutch right out from under her, she would probably flounder around on the floor with no way to get back up again. 
This left Adrien with another important question: How was he going to do it? So far, his friends have been sticking to her like glue and taking in her words like they were given directly from the Bible. On top of that, Alya seems to have become Lila’s official guard dog. How was he supposed to work around that? Adrien couldn’t confront the brunette publicly, because Marinette was proof that that never ended well, and confronting Lila privately didn’t help either, because she would only blow him off again. No, he needed to focus on outing her to his classmates directly, but he also needed to be subtle about it. Which meant..
Which meant he’d have to beat her at her own game.
“That’s crazy!” Adrien piped up, plastering on a surprised and disgusted expression. “Can I see the texts?”
Lila and Alya turned to him, both equally shocked by his comment. He normally kept to himself during conversations about Marinette.
“Oh..” Lila blinked, gathering her thoughts. “I mean, of course! It’s just that.. they’re quite personal, you know.. She said some things that were close to home..”
“We completely understand.” Alya assured. 
“Completely,” Adrien agreed, “which is why I want to see how bad it is. Those texts can be considered harassment if you don’t feel safe.”
Alya frowned at him, but a spark arose in Lila’s eyes, one that was no doubt fueled by the thought of getting Marinette into trouble with the law. Adrien would never understand the hatred that Lila harbored for the ravenette, but he definitely knew how to use it to his advantage.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble!” The brunette said with feigned concern. “But.. if you think it will help..”
She made a show of tentatively pulling out her phone and handing it to Adrien. He wasted no time snatching it from her hands and pulling up the texting app. If she was giving him the phone, she most likely had a series of fake texts to back up her story. (and they would be fake. Marinette was too nice to outwardly insult or bully others. Besides, she wouldn’t have the time even if she wanted to, what with her new school, homework, and fashion designs that she needed to tend to.)
Sure enough, he found messages upon messages of insults under the contact name “Marinette”. Things like “You’re only a model because of Gabriel’s pity and charity programs”, “You made our school’s reputation so pathetic that I had to leave”, and “They’ll find out soon that you’re too stupid to be a decent class rep.” were only the tip of the iceberg. Adrien noted the fact that there weren’t any comments about Lila’s looks specifically- she probably couldn’t think of any insults like that herself, since she was obviously so fashionable -but other than, the texts appeared to be authentic.
That is, except for the phone number.
Adrien slid further into his desk and pulled out his own phone to unlock it. A swift comparison between the two contacts proved not only that they had different phone numbers for Marinette, but that the phone number used for the harassing texts was actually the phone number that Adrien had for Lila. She must have texted herself, then deleted the doubles to make it look like a regular conversation between two people. Adrien had to hand it to her, it was a clever set-up. 
But not clever enough.
“Wow, this is awful.” Adrien declared, ensuring that both girls along with a few of their other classmates could hear him. “I’m going to text Marinette about this right now. Do you mind if I copy the number from your phone to text her, though? Some of my contacts got deleted a while back.”
Lila’s eyes widened, and panic briefly flickered across her features. 
“O-Oh, um- you really don’t have to do that-” She tried to say as she reached for her phone. 
Adrien pulled it back up with a smile. “Oh, but I want to! We can’t let Marinette get away with things like this.”
“Yeah, he’s right!” Alya eagerly agreed. “Let him talk to her. That should really pack a punch for Marinette.”
Although the comment was a bit odd, Adrien nodded along, because as long as Alya was on his side, this plan should work perfectly. 
“I’m typing in the number to call right now.” He announced, quickly punching in each digit. His only regret in that moment was that he couldn’t see Lila’s expression as he got closer to ‘accidentally’ outing her. However, the sheer panic in her voice was still enough to make his smile widen to a grin.
“No, you can’t!” She nearly shrieked, lunging over Adrien for her phone. If the class’ eyes weren’t on them before, they definitely were now. 
“Don’t worry, Lila.” Adrien said innocently as he pressed ‘call’ on the number. “I won’t tell her that you gave me her number.”
As expected, Lila’s phone immediately began to ring. He watched as the blood drained from her features, and she scrambled to turn off the device before it could finish the first ring. It was a decent move, in his opinion, but that didn’t stop the class from staring at her with a mix of surprise, suspicion, and curiosity.
“What was that?” Alya asked, leaning forward to help Lila get off of Adrien, “Was your phone ringing?”
“No, no! It was- uhm -” Lila let out a nervous, little laugh.  It’d been so long since she had to fight for her lies to stick that she must have forgotten how to lie on the spot. What a shame.
“That was just a small sound my phone makes when it turns off.” She blurted out. “I must have forgotten to charge it last night.”
Adrien pressed “end” on his call- because obviously he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Lila’s phone off -and glanced around the classroom to gauge their reactions. Those closest to the conversation were warily watching the scene unfold with furrowed eyebrows, doubt clear on their expressions. The farther ones, however, nodded along with what Lila was saying. They probably hadn’t heard most of the conversation beforehand and therefore had no reason to question her. 
“Oh,” Alya said, accepting the bullcrap answer as always, “that’s not good. Do you want to use my charger in case you need your phone later?”
Lila offered a sweet smile, stray bits of her confidence floating back to her due to Alya’s reassurance. “Ah, I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you or anythi-”
A soft rumbling shook the ground, causing the Italian girl to trail off. Adrien turned to the window, his breath catching in his throat as his thumb instinctively brushed over his ring. Was now really the best time?
In the distance, a cloud of dust was rising into the air. He’d seen enough- and done enough -to know that only the mass destruction of buildings could create such a cloud, and the mayor hadn’t informed them of any pre-planned constructions.
“Yes!” Alya cheered, leaping down the classroom steps. Leave it to her to be the only one excited about another akuma attack. “Finally!  It feels like we haven’t had an akuma in weeks!”
“Alya, wait!” Nino called after her. He always hated her little escapades. 
“Don’t worry,” Adrien said as he stood up, “I’ll take care of her.”
Right after I take care of the akuma.
~~~~~~~~
The little hands of Felix’s black wrist watch ticked away well past 12:30, reminding him of his frustrating failure to set a timer for their lunch period. How could he have forgotten? The notion had to be ingrained into his muscle memory by now. Get up, go to school, burn through the first few classes, set a timer to not waste time, and go to lunch. How did it slip his mind?
“I can’t believe I didn’t ask this sooner,” Allegra remarked as they exited the café, “but what happened to your guys’ faces? I’m pretty sure they weren’t that red before.”
Felix glanced towards Claude and Marinette, the excuse to his forgetfulness finally returning. He’d been in the middle of setting the alarm when he saw their tomato-colored faces in front of the Chemistry lab. The sight must have been enough to throw away all thoughts of setting his alarm as he asked what happened. Nevertheless, Felix still had time to copy down some notes before his next class, and that would suit him just fine for today.
“Oh, man, how have I not told you yet?” Claude snorted. “It was hilarious!”
Marinette let out a light, yet playful scoff next to him. “Define ‘hilarious’.”
The group shared a small chuckle, and Claude jumped into the story of how they- well, how he spilled their chemicals in class. It surely couldn’t have been as interesting as the brunette let on, but Claude always loved to be dramatic. He made voices for Marinette’s comments- which she jokingly took offence towards due to the unrealistically high pitch -and flailed his arms about while explaining how he poured the chemicals into a bag and mixed them. Claude even made a point to throw out his arms while mimicking the sound of an explosion when he got to the part of the story where the chemicals overflowed.
One of those arms happened to smack Felix in the shoulder, which easily brought a glare out of the blonde. If Claude was this energetic now, there was no telling how bad he was going to be during Allegra’s sleepover. In fact, the whole group was probably going to go overboard. Something about sleepovers tended to bring out the most outgoing side of a person, which was why Felix loathed them. He had to sit there and listen to everyone snort and laugh and be loud the entire evening without the comfort that he might be able to leave within an hour or two. It was torture, simply put.
And yet, he decided to go. All for the ludicrous thought that he might be able to ask Marinette more questions about her relations to Agreste and her old school once- or if -the night provided them a moment of privacy. The motivation itself was outright foolish if he were honest with himself. Even if he did acquire a “decent moment” to bring up the subject, she would most likely be uncomfortable talking about it, and dragging a person through the past that they’re deliberately trying to run from isn’t pleasant for anyone involved. That’s why he’s refrained from asking about it again so far.
Felix needed to find some other way to sedate his curiosity towards her. He did.. But how else was he going to find out why an aspiring fashion designer would run from the supposed affections of a top designer’s son? Felix guessed that it might be something like sexual harassment or another, equally disgusting treachery, but then what about the chest of gifts? Where her affections for the model had been clear? What type of fallout must one have with another person to risk their entire dream career just to escape them?
Felix shook his head slightly to push the thoughts out of his mind. He wasn’t going to barrage Marinette with question after question just to stop his mind from constantly turning when it probably wouldn’t stop anyway. Marinette was Marinette. A classmate of his that was kind, clumsy yet capable, overly-generous, determined, weirdly strong for someone of her stature, and a mystery in more ways than one when it came to the life she lived. That was going to have to be enough for him.
“You should have seen it, Allegra.” Claude said with a grin, pulling Felix back to the present. He’d somewhat forgotten that the brunette was even talking.
“It was like the whole bag of Phenol Red just went-”
A large crash erupted to the left of them, followed by a strong gust of wind that pushed them all off of their feet. Felix hit the pavement with a grunt, and Marinette landed on top of him a second later, sucking the rest of the air from his lungs. Screams pierced the air, disorienting him further- why were they screaming? What made the crash? How did it create enough wind to knock them over? -but Marinette sat up immediately. She turned to the source of the crash, tense and ready, as though she already knew what they were dealing with, and Felix couldn’t be more confused. Why did she look like she was about to fight something? (And why did he feel like she would win?)
“Do not be afraid!” A voice yelled over the crowds, drawing Felix’s gaze to a woman standing a few yards away from them. She was dressed in dark and light blues, save for her white elbow-length cloak and her white skirt that appeared to be split into several different pieces of cloth. “I’ve come to help! Not just you, but the world!”
Felix’s eyes widened, an entirely new form of terror taking hold of his body. This wasn’t.. This couldn’t be an akuma, right? She looked different than the ones he’d seen on the news, more human. If it weren’t for her white and dark blue mask and the large fan in her hands that seemed to be controlling the wind, he would have thought that she was a normal civilian merely passing by. 
“Our planets have been spoiled by the bigger companies for too long!” The woman continued, even though people ran as she spoke. “It’s time we take matters into our own hands!”
His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, to move, but he couldn’t. His entire being was cemented to the spot in fear of what might happen next. What if this akuma was dangerous? What if her powers possessed people like that Pharaoh themed villain? Or completely killed them like Stoneheart or TimeTagger? Were they going to be her first victims? What if it-
A harsh tug interrupted his reeling thoughts, and suddenly, Felix was back on his feet and running. Running behind Marinette who was pulling them to safety. 
“Hurry up, we don’t have much time!” She quietly called over her shoulder. “Let’s hide behind the wooden fence while she’s distracted.”
Felix had enough sense to look ahead of them, where a small, wooden fence that held the cafe’s menu was placed. It wasn’t hard to notice under normal circumstances, but how did Marinette think of hiding there while the akuma was right behind them? How was she not paralyzed by the very idea of being caught?
“I’m going to destroy some stores around here, but only to get the heroes’ attention!” The akuma explained as the group scrambled passed the fence and pressed their backs against the wood. “Once I have the miraculous, I will restore everything to its rightful place, I promise!”
Felix tried to slow his rapid, shallow breaths as he sank further against the fence. She was going to destroy buildings? How many? Were they going to get hit with the debris? Where were the heroes that he’d heard so much about? Shouldn’t they be doing something about all of this?
“What do we do?” Claude whispered, panic clear in his tone as well. None of them had ever seen an akuma attack before. Well, none of them except Allan, but he’d been watching through a store window a safe distance away.
“Should we call the police?” Allegra nearly squeaked, tentatively reaching for her bag to pull out her phone. “They help with stuff like this too, right?”
“No need.” Marinette said. She was on the left side of Felix now, staying close to the edge of the fence and carefully peeking around it. “The police have akuma alerts on their phones to tell them when attacks happen. They're already on their way, I’m sure.”
Felix stared down at her with furrowed eyebrows, completely baffled by the lack of panic in her demeanor. This was the same girl who stumbled and stuttered to ask him for a pencil during class! Yet here she was, taking charge and giving orders and speaking perfectly. It was like she was a completely different person! How was that even possible? 
“Alright,” The ravenette spoke, turning back to them with a deathly serious gaze, “I’m going to run out and get her attention. While I’m doing that, you guys need to run as far away from here as you can and find a good basement to hide in until this is over.”
“What?” The group practically gasped in unison. She wanted to face the akuma alone?!
“Marinette, you’re not going anywhere!” Allegra insisted. “It’s not safe out there!”
“It’s less safe if we stay here.” She replied, moving to step out into the open.
Felix grabbed her wrist to yank her back. What was happening right now? 
“Are you insane?” He hissed unintentionally. “You can’t go out there! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“Yeah, she’s not after us.” Allan agreed. “Only the buildings. Let’s just all run out of here together.”
Marinette glanced back at the group. “But there are still people in those buildings. I need to lure her to an empty street or at least stall until the heroes get here. If I don’t, people are definitely going to get hurt or worse.”
Felix’s grip on Marinette’s wrist tightened. He hadn’t thought about the crowds of people who were running inside for cover, but even so, what would she be able to do alone? The akuma was a powerful being, and they were merely civilians in the crossfire. What’s stopping it from crushing Marinette beneath its boot at the slightest whim? Who’s to say the akuma would even listen to Marinette if she did get its attention?
“We’re not letting you sacrifice yourself for an extra second of time.” He told her. “Like you said, the police are on their way, which means the heroes will be here soon too. Let them handle it.”
A strange mix of urgency and frustration flickered across her features, and she tugged against his grip. “Felix, please, we don’t have time to argue-”
“I think I’ll start with this darling café.” The akuma crooned. “That should get some attention.”
The café walls crumbling apart was Felix’s only warning before the gust of wind made it to their little hide-out. It splintered the wood within seconds, and the group went flying, once again, into the pavement. 
Felix groaned as he pushed himself to his knees. How many times were they going to get thrown around? At least Marinette didn’t land on him this time.
Marinette.
The realization that Marinette was no longer with him washed over Felix like a bucket of ice cold water, and his gaze snapped upwards. He started to yell for her, but it was too late. Marinette was already on her feet, somehow recovering faster than all of them, and running towards the akuma head on. He could only watch in abject horror as she called out to it.
“Hey, airhead!” She yelled. “Do you really think this is the smartest plan?”
The akuma rounded on Marinette in an instant, and Felix sucked in a breath. No, no, no, no, what was she doing?
“My name is ‘Whirlwind’, thank you very much,” The woman snapped, “and I think it’s a brilliant plan. Do you think you can do something better?”
“Of course.” Marinette replied, crossing her arms. “If you’re already destroying buildings, why not go and destroy the big companies that you’re after in the first place? It’d be much more productive, don’t you think?”
Felix furrowed his eyebrows. Didn’t she say that she wanted to avoid public places?
Whirlwind hummed. “Well, yes, but with all of the major hotels and tourist spots, it’s hard to tell which buildings to destroy, and I don’t have time to look.”
“I’ll show you where they are.” Marinette offered. “Think about it, destroying a big, company building is sure to attract more attention than taking down a little café, right?”
Whirlwind narrowed her eyes as she thought it over, and a part of Felix desperately hoped that she would decline Marinette’s suggestion. A bigger part of him prayed that the police or the heroes or somebody showed up to stop this before Marinette went too far.
“Alright.” Whirlwind smiled. “I’ll take you up on that. It’s nice to see someone else interested in saving the environment.”
With a flick of her fan, Whirlwind gathered a gust of wind around Marinette, causing the ravenette to rise into the air. She then gave herself a gust of wind, which caused her white skirt to start spinning around her. If Felix wasn’t going pale with dread over what might happen to his classmate, he would have found the unique fashion choice to be humorous, as it almost reminded him of a box fan. 
Allegra let out a horrified shriek, one that rattled Felix to his bones. This was really happening. Marinette was really being carried off by some maniac in a costume. What were they going to do? What could they do? Gosh, where were the heroes?
Felix grit his teeth and forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t just stand there and watch her be kidnapped or he’d never be able to look her in the eyes afterwards.
That’s right, he told himself. The heroes were going to win, and she was going to be just fine. 
Those thoughts didn’t stop him from sprinting after the akuma, though, even as the trio called after him to stop, even as the akuma rose higher into the air, out of his reach. Marinette couldn’t do this by herself, and although Felix’s presence probably wouldn’t make much of a difference either, he’d be darned if he didn’t try to help. 
“Don’t worry,” He huffed, comforting himself more than her as he darted through alleyways to keep up with them, “I’m right behind you.”
Tag list:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything  @magnificentcrapposts  @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth​ @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx
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ongreenergrasses · 3 years ago
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👿 🤷 🤢 (i bring salt opportunities)
MHMM SINDIRIMBA YOU SURE DO!! 💖✨💜 there is SO much salt in this response
👿 what trope do you hate/avoid at all costs?
BOY OH BOY!!!! an overall overarching one is, bc i am now an adult, i can’t stand high school aus, as they are about children and i don’t want to read that. i absolutely loved them when i was in high school, don’t any more.
a trope i hate that shows up a lot in specifically tog fic is the idea of the (gender neutral) “damsel in distress”. it happens all the time to Certain Characters and it drives me up a Goddamn WALL because in tog fandom it also takes on these racialized components where the white characters get babied and damselfied and the characters of color are in charge of helping them and taking care of them and “fixing” or “rescuing” the white characters and it sometimes just gets. Really weird. i am not being super coherent about this because i am very tired but you all know what i mean.
(also for the record, i have read SO MUCH fic and meta and incredible contributions that doesn’t fall into these traps and i think as a fandom we are really getting better about this. however this fandom is still profoundly racist at times and we also need to recognize that.)
🤷🏻‍♀️ what thing that your fandom loves do you just not get?
i’m gonna pivot here completely for a second and say that i do not like and do not get a common fandom portrayal of Quỳnh post iron maiden where she’s just completely filled with rage, hates everyone especially her family, and is consumed with getting revenge. i do recognize that we do not have a lot of screentime for Quỳnh, which also bums me out, but from what we see of her personality and additionally her qualities that were emphasized onscreen, i just do not see or understand how she could come out of that experience hating Andy and the other members of her family. i think that she’d hate humanity and institutions but to me it does not make sense at all for her to hate her family. they will obviously have a shitton of things to work through and i absolutely believe that Quỳnh would be furious with her family, but i absolutely don’t believe she’d hate them. i do not like that comics storyline and i won’t like it if they follow it in 2 old 2 guard either. (this is a personal preference and not an overarching problem btw just to make that clear)
in that vein i also don’t really like iron maiden aus. there is one by my beloved @anosrepasi called Lingua Franca that i highly, highly recommend, but that is the only one I have ever really read with complete enjoyment because it is amazing writing, very creative, and truly (i think) a category of its own.
the reason that i generally do not like these aus is that overall, iron maiden aus constantly fall into this trap where Andy is absolutely demonized for her reaction to the situation and the aus take on this tone of how the other characters would react so much “better” by “not giving up searching” and UGH that drives me into absolutely batshit pissed off territory. (also i will say that there are great fics that deal with this trope and i am aware of that, this again is personal preference)
🤢 who is your notp?
i actually don’t have a specific one. what i DO have is any time people use any of the fully fledged incredible characters we have as background music/props for an OTP the author finds better, that is a big no from me. notp is sidelining characters for a ship 😬😬 let’s not do that besties
edit: WAIT I THOUGHT OF ONE i don’t like booker/joe/nicky at ALL that is an actual notp.
reader asks
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mrsamaroevans · 4 years ago
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YOU ALL OVER ME | ANGEL REYES
Fandom: Mayans M.C.
Pairing: Angel Reyes x the consequences of his bad decisions with Female Reader.
Words: 3,673.
Warnings: Sad and like a bad word. English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor.
A/N: This is the first thing I finish like in ages! This was not requested but I couldn’t stop listening to You All Over Me by Taylor and this came out. Thank you so much for reading, feedback is well received. *Gif is not mine*
|| MY MASTERLIST ||
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“The best and worst day of June was the one that I met you, with your hands in your pockets and your ‘don't you wish you had me’ grin. But I did, so I smiled”
Santo Padre Regional High School.
Those were the words that you read before crossing the door with your mother. You had only one week in Santo Padre and you still had time before the school year begins, but she wanted to have all that ready as soon as possible.
While your mother was making all the paperwork, you were waiting on a bench outside of the office until you got bored. As no one could stop you, you decided to walk around for the facilities of what soon would be your new school. It was smaller than the school you used to go to before moving across the country, but it was okay. Classrooms were big enough, lockers a bit smaller y the patios were open and surrounded by green areas. You weren’t too disgusted about changing school again anymore.
Near the cafetería, was a mural with pictures of the different extracurricular classes and the people who were part of them. The cheerleader’s team looked too pretentious. You hated that cliché, but it was what you felt by just looking at the picture, you could be wrong though. The theatre team looked cool, maybe you’d join them. Then, was the football team.
Guys that looked bigger than what a sixteen-year-old guy should be. One of them proudly carried a big trophy. He had to be the leader, it always is. What was the position they had? You didn’t know, you weren’t too familiar with the terms of the sport.
But that guy in specific caught your attention. It wasn’t because of the trophy he had in his hands or what that meant. He had a beautiful smile, but for some reason, it didn’t look sincere. There was something in his eyes that kept you looking at him. All of him looked happy and proud, but there was something more. Unfortunately, if someone asked you what it was, you wouldn’t know how to explain it. But there was something there.
“You’re new?”
You gave a little jump at the unexpected voice on your side. You turned to your right and you saw him again. The same guy with the trophy in the picture, now in real size at your side.
“I’m gonna be” you nodded and looked back at the mural to see the rest of the teams.
“And, you like what you see?”
That flirty tone in his voice almost made you laugh. You turned to him again and saw that he had a smile that combined with the tone of voice he used and with the question he had made. His hands in his pockets, making his biceps more notorious.
“A little bit, yeah,” you said, willing to not let him intimidate you. And the truth was that you really liked what you were seeing “You are on summer break, right? What are you doing here?”
“I’m gonna do an exam,” he said like he didn’t want to talk much about it, but you didn’t realize it.
“You’re still on finals?” You asked, confused. The first time you noticed in your route was that there were no students or teachers.
“Oh, no… it’s an extraordinary exam. Chemistry” The guy answered as he didn’t care too much that he failed a class. You didn’t know what would be your situation at home if you were in his place.
“So, you’re not good with chemistry, then”
“It all depends on the situation” he smiled.
You kept his gaze for a few seconds. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to know that the first guy that got close to you in that city had made you shy. But the visual contact didn’t last too long, ‘cause you had to look at the ground for a second.
“What did you say your name was?” You asked, looking back at his face. He had beautiful brown eyes, but you were afraid that if you look at them for too long, he could know all your secrets.
“Angel,” he said and he looked so calm that that frustrated you even more.
“And I’m sure you’re not one”
Angel devilishly grinned and you felt your knees going a little weak. How a guy that you didn’t even know could have that power on you?
“What’s your name?” He asked and when you were about to answer, your phone rang so you lifted your index finger at him to ask for a moment. You took your mother’s call and the first thing she asked was:
“Where did you go?”
“I’m just walking around,” You told her calmly. You felt kinda sad when she told you that you needed to go to the office to sign the institutional regulation. That meant that your conversation with Angel came to an end “Okay... coming” you end the call and as you were placing your phone back into your pocket, you said: “I have to go”
You looked at him for the last time and started to make your way to the office, but you didn’t even give five steps when he spoke again.
“Hey!” He shouted making you turn back to him “You didn’t tell me your name”
“(Y/n)” you smiled and turned around to the way you had ahead.
“I lived, and I learned. Had you, got burned. Held out, and held on, God knows”
All the effort for the first date. The first kiss. The first ‘I love you.' The first time you made love. That day you met his parents and they adopted you into their family right away. All the double dates with his brother and girlfriend. The fairs and festivals. The football matches in which you were the one screaming louder than anyone whenever they made a score. His better grades. The jealousy from both sides. The fights because of the cheerleaders. All those break-ups and comebacks. Those days at the beach. The laughs. The tears. The good and the bad had gone and all because of his insecurities.
How did that happen? With three pictures someone left in your locker.
“What the hell, Angel?” Was the first thing you asked when you confronted him after school.
He saw the pictures and shrugged “You need me to explain it?” Those words had hit you too hard like never before a question had made. Your heart was breaking and it looked like he didn’t care even a little.
“What’s wrong with you?” You asked, not understanding that attitude towards you. He had never talked to you like that.
“Nothing, you’re the one who wants to fight,” He said, turning around to walk to the small desk beside his bed.
“I received pictures of you sleeping with Haley, what were you expecting?” You got close and threw the pictures at his back, they hit him and then fell to the floor. Angel barely looked at them and chuckled.
“It’s not so bad,” he said, turning to you.
“That it’s not so…?” You laughed at what you heard. Angel was a bit distant weeks before you had to go to college to finish your registration, but you never thought something like that could happen “It has to be a joke”
“You left for a week and I had physiology needs”
“Fucking jerk!” You shouted and couldn’t help but push him making him crashed against his desk. Some brushes fell to the floor and the tears in your eyes started to gather. You didn’t want him to see you crying, so you decided it was time to go.
“Everyone told you that but you didn’t want to see it” he aggressively said.
“Well, you got it” you turned to him and shrugged “Another broken heart… you smashed it” your voice trembled with the last words. That seemed to affect him because his hard expression softened for a second “I hope you’re happy”
But Angel wasn’t even close to being happy.
Once you left his room, he sat on the floor and saw the pictures. He ripped them apart while the tears fell from his cheeks. He hated himself.
He was a coward. He couldn’t break up with you, but he couldn’t let you stay with him. You had plans that he didn’t. Your vision of the future didn’t fit with his, and it was because he didn’t have one. He didn’t have plans like you, he wanted to go and take anything that comes his way. You had ambition, you had a plan to make your dreams come true, and him? He didn’t have anything.
To his eyes, you didn’t deserve someone like him.
“I lived, and I learned, and found out what it was to turn around and see, that we were never really meant to be”
Years went by and life changed.
Angel went through something he thought he never would. His mother has ripped away from their lives and that had been a hard blew for him. His little brother was sent to prison y couldn’t help but feel responsible because he made his way to get a gun easier. Ezekiel told him it was for mere protection, but deep down he knew his brother wanted retaliation.
And that made him get life imprisonment for the homicide of a cop.
His relationship with his father became tenser than what already was. But, after all that he had lost, he found a shelter. The club. Mayans MC. Those men went from simple mates to family too quickly.
He had heard from his father that you came back to the city. By that moment you were already done with college and your parents had been —finally— established in Santo Padre. You told him once, that you had fallen in love with the city and that, definitely, you could see your future there. So, when Felipe said that, he didn’t doubt in believing him.
But knowing you came back and seeing you had been so different for him.
He was on his way to the scrapyard in his bike with Coco and Gilly at both of his sides, but they had to stop for gas. Coco was saying something about how much he hated the hot weather and the incensement in the price of gas when a silver jeep parked in the pump in front of his.
Three doors opened. From the driver’s one jumped off a man with braids and sunglasses; he went directly to the pump. From one of the backseats door, as beautiful as he remembered, you went out.
He saw how you fixed your dress and laugh at something someone told you. You were fanning your face with your hands, a sign that you were hot. Then, a couple of seconds later, you took your hair and tied it in a messy bun. The hot air of Santo Padre in summer was excessive.
“We should have closed the windows and put the air conditioner” Angel heard a masculine voice and then he heard your laugh.
“You know that the combination of air conditioner and this weather make me sick, honey”
Honey. Angel hadn’t forgotten how that word sounded coming from your lips, but hearing you say it to another man broke his heart.
A man in a suit that looked to be more expensive than all of the boots Angel had, walked to you. He had a smile when he kissed you and even though he didn’t want to keep watching, for some unknown reason he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
“That last house’s not a sign to desist in looking for our home here,” the man told you, taking your hands “We’re gonna find the perfect house or the perfect place to build it”
“I know,” you said and nodded. Your left hand touched his cheek and that was when Angel turned to his bike. The sunrays helped to the gleam of the giant diamond in your finger to not being unnoticed by him.
You were engaged, and you and your fiancé were looking for a house, which meant it wouldn’t take long for you to marry.
“You okay?” Coco asked him. He was pale and it seemed he could faint at any moment. But Angel didn’t answer, he turned to the jeep when the doors got closed instead.
The driver started the engine and that was when your gaze stopped in him.
You looked fine. You looked happy. When your eyes connected with his, you didn’t seem surprised or hurt, or shocked. In fact, he couldn’t decipher what he saw in your eyes.
“You know her?” Gilly asked.
“I used to,” Angel said when he found his voice which wasn’t quickly.
And even though he was hurt for letting you go in the way he did, when he saw you he realized that he had made the right decision. ‘Cause you belong to the world that man in the expensive suit could give you. It was too painful though, to find out —again— that he never really had a chance like that with you.
That night, he required the services of Vicky’s girls and after that, Coco had to drive him to his apartment ‘cause he couldn’t even walk for all the alcohol he drank to cope with the pain.
“So I lied, and I cried, and I watched a part of myself die”
Days after and thanks to el Padrino, he knew who your fiancé was. His name was Miguel Galindo and he was the son of José Galindo, founder of one the most powerful and deadliest cartels in the México-USA border. He also knew that your wedding was set to be in October and that would be in three months.
That day in the gas station wasn’t the last time he saw you. He had seen you in the mall with the first friend you made in Santo Padre. You met in the market and it had been so uncomfortable. There were a lot of people and you had to walk by too close to each other. He also saw you going out of a restaurant with Miguel at your side and once and then you two were in the paper news for going to charity events.
It didn’t matter how many times he saw you at the side of another man, he could never get use to it.
“I know you didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, but… why did you break up?” Felipe asked him. He didn’t more information to know what he meant. Angel had a couple of days going to his parents' house and Felipe knew why.
You had been there on so many occasions and Angel still couldn’t get over you.
“I cheated on her” Angel said “I slept with one of the cheerleaders and I made sure to have evidence. Evidence that I left in her locker”
Felipe sighed and shook his head no “We didn’t raise you like that, Angel”
“I know that” he sounded irritated “But I needed to push her away from me so she could get all the goals she had in life… and it turned out fine. She’s so much better now”
“Did you apologize to her?” His father questioned, hoping to get a positive answer, but when Angel remained silent, he got the answer he didn’t want “You have to do it, Angel. She was and is a great woman, she didn’t deserve that. But at least do it for your mother” Angel turned to his father. There were tears in his eyes at the mention of her “Your mother loved that kid, and she always taught you to apologize when you did something wrong”
Angel nodded and took his gaze up to the ceiling, promising his mother that he would apologize next time he sees you.
A month went by to see you again. A Friday, his father had asked him for help at the butcher shop, so he went out of the clubhouse and when he arrived at the shop, he saw a jeep parked outside and a man waiting by the backseat’s door. For the glass of the shop, he saw his father talking to you. You were smiling and later, your exit coincided with his entrance.
“Sorry,” you said with a small smile and thanked him when Angel stepped aside to let you walk out.
Angel looked at his father and the expression on his face said “Go” so he just nodded got out of the shop.
“Hey, (y/n)” his voice went out less determined than what he wanted, but it worked out to have your attention. The driver had already opened the door for you, but you still turned to him “Can we talk?”
“Uh… I don’t see why” you said.
“Please…” Angel insisted, feeling nervous for the first time in too long.
“Fine” you nodded and made a sign to your driver for him to wait. He took the butcher bag and went to the trunk “What happens?” You asked, giving a few steps towards him.
Angel pointed at the table so you could sit with him, and you did.
“I never apologized for what I did to you,” he said after a few seconds of silence. He saw you sighing and shaking your head.
“Angel…” you began to say, but he interrupted you.
“No, wait… I’m sorry. I truly am and I was in that moment too” he accepted, taking you by surprise ‘cause that day you didn’t see any repentance in him “I was a jerk, you didn’t deserve that and I’m so sorry”
You didn’t know what to say for a moment. Clearly, you had gotten over what happened, but, talking about it only took you to all the pain you felt and the depression you fell into that lasted more than you would have liked.
“Well, thank you for your apologies. I accept them” you finally said and Angel looked relieved with those words “But, don’t worry anymore… it’s been some years and we got over it, right?” You asked with a small smile on your face.
“Yeah…” Angel lied “I think it turned out fine for both of us”
“Yes, everything’s fine now” you repeated “And, well… we’re going to find once and then, the city is too small. Is good that it won’t be uncomfortable next time we cross paths” you smiled once more and stood up “I have to go” Angel accepted that and even though he wanted to make you stay a little bit longer. You stopped and turned to him by yourself “Angel?”
Angel looked up to you, you were closer than what he thought you would “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about your mom,” you said pressing your lips together. When that happened, you called Felipe and Ez and talked to them, but you didn’t dare to talk to Angel.
“Thanks for the flowers” you shook your head no. You sent those flowers because you were in pain for what happened too, not because you wanted to look good before them or for them to thank you afterward.
“I loved her. She was amazing”
Angel smiled, remembering the times when his mother had told him that you were the one and that she would love to have you as a daughter-in-law “She loved you, too. She loved you so much” he admitted.
You smiled and did something that took him by surprise: you hugged him.
Angel reacted in time to hug you back, he did it tighter though, like he didn’t want to let you go again, and the truth was that he didn’t want to.
“Bye,” you said when you got apart, but he couldn’t say anything back. He just looked how you got in the car and how the jeep went away from the shop as he held on to those five seconds that the hug lasted.
The days kept on going until they became weeks and October arrived quicker than Angel imagined. El Padrino was invited to the wedding ‘cause he had been close to your future late father-in-law, so Miguel appreciated him.
Angel had promised himself he wouldn’t go. Being there and see you taking someone else’s name wouldn’t help in anything, but couldn’t contain from doing it. A few minutes after seven p.m, he drove to the church and waited outside. He was in a spot in which people couldn’t see him, but he would see when they go out. In his hands, he had a strip with black and white pictures from one of those machines at fairs. Those were the only pictures he kept after you broke up with him.
In the first one, you were only smiling. In the second, he was kissing you and in the third, you were smiling and showing your left hand in which you had a candy ring that Angel bought for you.
At 7:45 people started to leave the church and it didn’t take too long for you and your now-husband to go out. You looked beautiful. Your smile could light up the whole country, and, the man at your side looked happy too. He should be. Marry you should be enough reasons to be the happiest and luckiest man on the planet.
A tear fell when your husband cupped your face and kissed you. It didn’t matter how happy you looked, Angel couldn’t help but wish to be him taking your hand at that moment. He looked down at the pictures and sighed. He left them in the tree trunk that was being used as his hiding spot and turned to you, one last time.
He still loved you like the first day and he couldn’t deny it, and also couldn’t hide it. He was hoping to find you in another life to make things right.
“Cause no amount of freedom gets you clean. I’ve still got you all over me”
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|| MY MASTERLIST ||
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lunaekalenda · 4 years ago
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Heyo can I get an Armin x fem reader where he’s currently dating Annie and reader is a new student and Armin and reader start to get to know each other more and start to gain feelings for each other and reader doesn’t know he’s dating Annie and shes on pretty good terms with her since Annie sort of envies her cuz she’s sweet and outgoing, so reader asks him out he says yes and things are great for them until Annie starts to realize Armins been distancing himself from her and hanging out with reader a lot and she confronts him about it and he admits that he just fell out of love and started gaining heavy feelings for reader and they break up even though Annie’s hurt she tries to stay happy and accepts reader and armins new found relationship:3 (can it be a modern AU and can it be in 1st POV from either reader or Armin please and thank you)
hiii!! :D omg yes!! i hope you like it! sorry if i took long to write it :’) and i think it’s a little messed up sorry
i hope it is what you’ve asked for! i didn’t want to make it longer, so this is it!
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❁ Private lessons
❁ Armin x female reader
❁ !! : cheating
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"So this is your new classmate, I hope you get along well."
Everybody smiles, specially a blue-eyed girl on the first row. The professor tells me to sit next to her.
"Hi, I'm Historia." She smiles sweetly. I smile back at her. Professor Keith starts his class, and I do my best to follow his explanations.
I used to study in a south zone institute, but my dad was posted north which made me move and switch to this institute. Near to Historia, and looking at her, is a tall girl with brown eyes and a low ponytail. On my other side, there’s a brown-haired boy with freckles, looking nice and smiling. Behind him, a boy with an undercut looks bored. The professor starts talking about history, and Historia passes me a paper.
“I can give you my notes for you to copy” I smile at her and nod. An hour after, the class is finished. 
“Okay, I’ll introduce you to all. This girl here is Ymir.” she points to the tall girl, that is walking towards us. She hugs Historia while talking. 
“I hate history classes, oh, my sweet and beloved Historia, if you...”
“I’ll help you to study this afternoon.” Ymir smiles at her and kisses her cheek in signal of thanks. “Oh, the new one.” I smile at Ymir and she does the same.
Historia points a huge blonde boy, that was sitting behind me. He’s talking with a black-haired tall guy. “Those two are Reiner and Bertholdt. And the blonde girl coming is Annie” A girl with a bun goes to the door, followed by a boy. “And that’s Armin. He’s always with Eren and Eren is always with Mikasa.” They are following Armin. The boy with freckles comes and smiles at me.
“Hi, I’m Marco! I hope we can became friends! He’s Jean, my best friend.” The boy with the undercut waves his hand at me.
“Oh, and the two fighting for cup of ramen are Connie and Sasha. Now, should we eat together?” I nod to Marco and Historia. They pull their tables together and star eating. They tell me how was the first semester and try to know if my institute on the south was giving the same subjects than here, and told me to join their study group. 
“Armin gives us classes. He’s really smart and catches up all the subjects, and he also likes to explain.” They tell me that the next session is going to be tomorrow afternoon on Reiner’s. “We take turns studying at each other's house, so it's not always the same host” Actually that’s a good plan, so I guess someday I’ll have to be a host too. My face darkens as I remember that my house is too small to accommodate more than three people in the same room. Mom and Dad live in a flat that dad's company gave them, but the distance between that apartment and the institute made them decide to rent a one-man flat for me. We keep eating and attending the next classes. 
Faster than I thought, the afternoon of the study group arrived. I took all the books before leaving home, and walked towards the entrance, where Marco, that lives literally next door, was waiting to help me arrive to Reiner’s home. He was dressing casually, not a huge difference between seeing him on the school uniform. 
“Good morning!” Marco says when I left the entrance. I wave my hand at him. “Ready for a studying session?” 
“I think so, but everybody raves about how well Armin explains, so I’m impatient to see it! I think I need a lot of help to pass this course.”
“That’s normal, you arrived in the middle of it! But I’m sure you’ll be okay, your grades on the other institute were pretty high!” Marco, as the class delegate, had to pass my expedient to the new institute, and he looked at my grades to do it. We walk in silence while he explains me some streets or where our classmates lived.
“Reiner’s house is the one furthest from the institute, the rest of us live near it.” 
Once were in Reiner’s house, a lot of classmates were waiting outside. Jean walked towards Marco.
 “I knew you could guide the new girl here without problem!” Jean smiles at me and Historia comes, followed by Ymir.
“Oh, you arrived!” Historia says. Then, Reiner makes us enter his house. We all sit when Armin arrives. He has his blonde hair messy, and his hands are occupied with some papers. 
The studio group is outgoing and nice to me, but when Armin starts to explain history of the north, I’m totally lost. He looks at me with curiosity.
Armin’s eyes were so beautiful, and every time he looks at me my heart flutters. 
“Do you understand it?” I shake my head. The north history is totally new for me, I never studied it. “Don’t worry, are you free tomorrow?” 
“Hm, yes, I am” He smiles before writing something on a paper. “There’s were I live. Come at four and I’ll explain everything to you, with detail.”
He was so sweet I couldn’t say no, so I nod and smile at him. 
Walking back home, Marco explains me where Armin lives.
“Up that street, the last house. He lives in front of Eren and Mikasa.”
Marco invited me to have dinner with him and Jean in a near bar, where, surprisingly, also Connie was having dinner. When I asked him why he was there alone, he told me.
“I took some dinner with me but Sasha ate it, and now I have to have some dinner because I’m about to pass out of hunger.”
“Can we sit here, Conn?” Marco asks and Connie nods. We have dinner between laughs and stories. and everybody leaves once we’re finished.
The next day, I'm in front of Armin's house, waiting for him. He makes me go into his house.
"Sorry if my room is messed up, I just woke up." He says, with his hand on his neck. I laugh.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure your room is more organized than mine.” He lets me pass in front of him to a clear and enormous room. It has a lot of books and a shelf full of seashells. He tells me to take off my jacket and put it on a near chair. We sit on the floor, near to the coffee table he has in the middle of the room. He takes some books with him.
“Okay, so North History.” I nod. He starts to explain me with calm and quiet voice, making sure I understand everything, and looking me in the eyes. 
I can’t concentrate if his ocean eyes are fixed on mine. Once Armin ends explaining me the unit, we agreed in having a little break. He passes me a cup of coffee and a couple cookies. 
“So, do you like the city?” he asks. I nod while swallowing the coffee.
“Yes, it’s pretty cool. In the south we don’t have this big cities like in the north, Is more like a rural place. So at first it was complicated for me to move.” Armin nods, telling me without words that he understands me. 
“Well, I can show you the city. I’m not a talkative person but I know a lot about the history of the place, so I can tell you about some of the famous buildings.”
“That would be amazing...” Thanks to my parents, I was born without the gift of shame. Armin had caught my eye, so why not give it a try? “Something like a date?”
Armin laughs, kinda blushing.
“Yes, something like a date.” he answers.
A couple weeks later, after passing a lot of time with Armin, we decided to go and explore the city. I choose a yellow dress my mum bought me for our date. He was there when I arrived. 
“Hi!” He looks at me when I talk to him. He smiles a bit.
“Hi” answers. We start walking. Where do you want to start?”
“What about the park?” He nods. We walk, and he tells me a lot of curious things about the city. “Did you know this was a prison?” 
The, he invites me, buying me an ice cream. We sit on a cool park, and we eat the ice creams in silence. His phone starts to sound. He looks the name of the person who’s calling, but he puts his phone again on his pocket.
“Sorry, you know how many times a day do telephone companies call.” I nod, totally clueless. He was kinda nervous after that, and it made me think he maybe wasn’t talking with telephone companies.
After the long day out, my feet hurt. Armin laughs and accompanies me home. Once we’re at my door, Armin smiles sweetly. 
“Do you want to enter?” I ask. Armin’s face blushes. “N-No! I wasn’t asking like that?!”
“I know, I know.” he laughs, “Anyway, I should go home. It’s kinda late.” he looks the hour on his phone. I can glimpse a blonde girl on his wallpaper, smiling at the camera.
“Well, thanks for today...” I say, in low voice, He smiles and lends closer to me. His gaze fixed on my mouth.
“See you tomorrow?” I ask. He hums before leaning even closer and he kisses me.
I kiss him back. I was literally hoping for this to happen. His arms are around my waist. When we part, I’m kinda dizzy. He’s an awesome kisser, not gonna lie. 
“Bye, then.”
He’s about to leave, but what kind of boy leaves a girl right after kissing her? I took his hand.
“Does this mean that now we are dating?” I ask. He smiles wide.
“Probably. I’ll wait for you tomorrow.” He kisses me again, lightly, and then he leaves. 
Our relationship grew really fast, but he didn’t want to look that closer at school.
“You know, professors might think we’re not fixed on our studies.”
And he also was really close to Annie. I wasn’t jealous, he spends a lot of time at my house, my mum loves him and we are so in love...
Annie looks at me with anger while we’re in music class. She’s fixed on me. When she comes to talk with me, Armin intercepts her.
“Annie! can we talk outside a bit?” He says. She looks at me, but then nods. I stand up and follow them. They’re talking in the corridor. I tell myself to sit and mind my own business, but her tone makes me stay there, listening,
“You’re really close to her now.” she says. Armin asks her to be quiet.
“Annie, I only love you...”
“You’ve been lying for a fucking month. Stop it already, Armin. Tell me the truth, or I’ll ask her.”
“I...” I can hear Annie’s steps, but it’s late to go back to my seat. Fortunately, Armin calls her. “Wait, Annie! See... I... I don’t love you. It was fast, but I fell in love with her. She’s really sweet and I couldn’t handle it. She studied so close to me... Her lips so close... And admit it, our relationship was about to die.” He says. Annie doesn’t make a sound. 
Were Annie and Armin dating?
Did I break a couple?
Oh, no.
“Well, we...”
“We were sinking, And because of you.” he says. “You wasted a lot of time with Reiner and Bert. You were the one always occupied to see me. The one that never came to our dates. I need someone to be with, Annie, and you weren’t filling that desire, so I started to feel less and less for you. And she loves me. She always asks me to do something with her, either watch a movie or just lay down together. She counts me on her plans. I deserve something like what I give. So, I hope you can be happy with another one.”
“But why you waited so long to break up with me?”
“I thought you knew I was cheating on you. I was kinda obvious.”
Annie keeps being quiet.
“Hope you two be happy then.” she says, before walking to the opposite direction. 
Maybe their relationship was made to sink. Armin enters again, and I look interested to the books on the shelf.
“You’re so cute...” he says. I smile a bit.
The doubt about asking him or not about what just happened dissapears when I feel his lips on mine.
“We don’t have to hide now?” I ask. He shakes his head.
“No more.”
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jimlingss · 4 years ago
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Sugar and Coffee [12]
Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13
➜ Words: 2.1k
➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU
➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.
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“Never stop believing, never stop dreaming, and never stop doing your best!”   There’s deafening applause, standing ovations, and you get onto your own feet, clapping your hands together. The graduates are wearing bright smiles and they throw their hats into the air simultaneously. You watch them soar, knowing one day soon that’ll be you too.   Proud parents are gathered together, taking pictures while teachers are shaking the graduates’ hands, wishing them luck for their future endeavours. In the meanwhile, you hold the bouquet of flowers to your chest, paper crinkling underneath your grip and your eyes sweep the crowd.   “Do you see him?” you ask Jungkook.   He hums, hand placed on his brows to shield the blazing sunlight away. “No….oh, there he is!”   The two of you are dressed up for the ceremony. You’re in a modest dress that church goers would approve of while Jungkook is in a suit and tie like he’s going to prom. You appreciate him being here. He didn’t need to come, but he didn’t hesitate when you asked him to.    Jungkook just gives you the moral support you need.   “Y/N? Jungkook!” Seokjin is in his navy graduation gown, rich in colour. He wears a matching coloured hat with a yellow tassel and you muse the whole grad get-up looks good on him.   “Hey. Congratulations, man.” Jungkook smiles as a form of salutation.   “C-Congratulations on graduating.” You smile as well and extend your arm.   “These are for me?” He indicates the flowers, the corners of his mouth lifted. When you nod, Jin laughs and takes them. “I love them, thank you!”   “It’s nothing. I always promised I would see you walk the stage, so I’m just following through.”   “A woman of her word.” Seokjin grins, making you release half of a scoff and half of a laugh.   “Of course I am.”   You glance at Jungkook and he takes the cue. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” The boy hitches his thumb over his shoulder, slowly walking backwards. “I haven’t gone for about an hour now and my bladder is just killing me.” He stiffly laughs, almost bumping into some old lady. “Alright then. See you later.”   You sigh at his awkwardness and turn back to Jin. “Sorry about him.”   “No, it’s alright.” Seokjin smiles softly. “So you’re finished with all your finals?”   “Yeah, they’re all done. I don’t get much of a break though. My internship starts in two weeks.”   “Oh yeah!” He recalls, eyes lighting up. “Good luck. It should be really exciting. I still remember mine.”   “Thanks. I’m actually looking forward to it.”   “Good. You’ll make great memories, trust me.”   The pair of you stare at each other and you exhale lightly. “So this is it, huh, Kim Seokjin? All done with your schooling, you lucky bastard.”   The older man grins. “It’ll be you soon.”   “I know and I might beat you as a pastry chef one day, so you better watch out.”   Laughter bubbles out of his chest and it’s melodic to the ears. “I will.”   It’s a bittersweet moment, a nostalgic one. You remember going to his high school graduation, him at yours. Now he’s moving onto a new stage of his life again and in a way, you are too.    It occurs to you how grown up you’ve both become, how you’re not so young and naive anymore. “Can you congratulate Moonbyul, Sandeul, Ken and Hani for me?”   “I will. I’ll tell them you came by. They’ll appreciate it.”   You nod, but before you bid a final farewell, Seokjin raises his arm and gently ruffles your hair. The tension dissipates with his sincere smile. “I’m glad you came, Y/N.”   “Me too,” you say with an equally earnest smile.   “How’d it go?” Jungkook asks once you’ve regrouped with him again. You found the mop of black hair in the midst of parents and graduates, somehow munching on a hot dog he bought, and getting ketchup on his black blazer.   You hum, cheeks swelled with the biggest grin. “Good.”   You’re glad you came, that you followed through with a promise made a long time ago, one you could’ve pretended to forget. But you don’t regret showing up.    You and Seokin are almost strangers now, but you’ve realized somewhere down the line that it doesn’t make your time spent together any less fond. You loved him once and loved him wholeheartedly. He allowed you to do that. Allowed you to have those feelings and experiences.   You wonder if this is what closure is. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders, that your mind has been put to ease. Like you’ve finally closed a chapter of your life.
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It’s the end of the year. All of you are halfway done with your diploma, if you’re not counting the internship and only the lectures and workshops. But it’s unfathomable how fast time moves when you don’t take notice or count the seconds ticking as you sit idly by.    Your first year is over — and you can still remember coming to this institution months ago wide-eyed and nervous. It wasn’t that long ago, but you can also see the light at the end of the tunnel, the end coming near. A lot has happened and a lot still needs to occur.   “Your internships are starting on the fourth?! Lucky, you guys get like a whole week break,” Taehyung grumbles, pouting. “I haven’t even finished packing and I’m leaving tomorrow.”   “You’re going to a catering company, right?”   “Yeah.” Taehyung perks up with a smile. “I might be starting sooner, but on the bright side, at least I’m not making wedding cakes.”   “Why does everyone hate wedding cakes so much?” You take offence, defending your internship that you’re actually excited for.   “Maybe because it’s probably one of the hardest things you could make. Wedding cakes are humongous. It’s laborious and takes days to make. There’s a reason why they’re so expensive.” Yoongi leans back as he’s proving his point. “Plus have you ever worked with bridezillas before who want everything perfect? There are Karens galore. I’m not eager to work at a restaurant, but it’s still easier than a wedding cake company.”   “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.��� You have yet to learn how to actually make a wedding cake, but how hard can it be? At the end of the day, it’s just a bigger cake for a fancier occasion. You look over to Jungkook. “Right?”   But he doesn’t look you in the eye.   He mutters incoherently and when you roughly nudge him, he sighs. “I can’t say I’m….excited.”   “Didn’t you want to go somewhere that works with chocolate?” Hoseok asks, his own internship at the Marriott hotel. It’s a sweet gig and apparently close to where Aeri will also be working for her own cooking fellowship.   “Yeah.” Jungkook sighs again, running a hand through his black locks, picking up the habit of Jimin. Said man is already gone, left yesterday for a pastry shop in the city next door — a cute place he told you about called Bread & Butter. “But apparently the man who runs the place with his wife is a chocolatier.”   “It’s not about the place, it’s about the mentor,” you chime and he remains unimpressed.   “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”   You quirk your head to the side, lashes batting. “What? Not excited to spend a whole summer with me?”   Jungkook glances at you and then diverts his eyes quickly. He gives you no answer.   You click your tongue in annoyance. At least Taehyung can appreciate it, openly wishing he was working with someone that he knew.   Jungkook is probably the biggest reason why you aren’t afraid or anxious. You know you have each other’s backs, that you’ll learn together, and there’s no way he can be better at cakes than you are.   The man might be good at his chocolate but his cakes are dry.   //   “Try not to rip each other’s heads off,” Hoseok says moments before getting on the bus, duffle bag in hand. He’s the last one to go.   “Nah.” Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards his chest. “I still need someone to take the blame when things go wrong.”   “Excuse me?!” You turn to him and he laughs boyishly, making you pout.   Hoseok grins, bidding his last farewells before he gets on the bus and waves goodbye as the vehicle takes off down the road.   It’s sad to see all your friends going to different places, to forge their own separate ways. But you know goodbyes are inevitable and that it won’t be long till their return. You’re just glad that right now Jungkook is with you.   Campus empties out in the days that follow. Only you and Jungkook are staying in your dorm rooms over the summer. Hoseok is getting accommodation at the hotel he’s working for, Jimin is staying at a boarding house during the duration of his internship, and the rest going home where it’ll be more convenient for them.   It’s eerie to see the paths so empty, the dining center closed down, and the corridors void of people and noisy conversation. It’s apocalyptic. A ghost town.   There’s no one around but the pair of you.   “Are you ready?” you ask, breaking the silence. You spin around on your heel with a smile to face him, attempting to bring up the somber mood.   You don’t realize the small action has such a big impact.   Jungkook’s heart stutters. Your hair is flying in the breeze, the side strands brushed away behind your ear. Your eyes are glimmering as the sun sets, casting a golden hue on you that makes you glow. And you look at him so happily.    Jungkook has to resist the urge to pull you in. To kiss you.    He doesn’t know how he’s going to spend an entire summer with you and just you.   But he’s ready. “I am.”   “I’m gonna crush you, Jeon.” You laugh, not helping with his situation. Jungkook wonders what it takes to capture this moment and make it tangible. “Make the best wedding cakes anyone has ever seen.”   “You better walk the talk then.”   “Course, I will.”   Jungkook’s initial impression of you was never wrong. You’re stubborn, childish, a brat. You’re also annoying and irritating beyond belief. It’s amazing how sometimes you can just grind Jungkook’s gears without even knowing. But you’re also sensitive, sentimental, softer than he expected — and it’s what led him to have a closer view of you.    From the time you bursted into tears in the kitchen to when he called out your name to join him for lunch. Bringing you over to his friends' place and his family for the holidays. Teaching you how to temper chocolate and making truffles on Valentines for your ex. Going out on the town to be his wingwoman and having you as his partner in a competition and winning.   Those tiny moments lead him closer and closer.    Little by little.    One by one.   Without him realizing….   In these months that you’ve spent together, Jungkook has become unequivocally captivated by you.   “Y/N.”   “What?”   “I like you.”   Jungkook admits it out loud. Unabashedly. He tried to get over it, ignore it, clear his mind. He did all of it while trying to keep you by his side as his best friend, but it didn’t work. He can’t.   His feelings for you overwhelms him.   It’s a container overflowed with spillage all over the sides — he can’t repress it and doesn’t want to. He faces it head on, even if it’s reckless.   But you merely snort after a beat. “Thanks, grinch. I like me too. You’re not too, too bad, I guess.”   There’s no way you’re this obtuse. You’re not dense. Jungkook knows you well enough and he suspects you’re feigning ignorance, maybe because you’re traumatized and not willing to risk friendship again. But he presses on, not allowing you to ignore his heart on his sleeve.   “I mean it.”   “I mean it too.”   Jungkook assertively grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks, He looks you dead in the eye, going for a bold strategy with no room for escape or for you to disregard what he’s spilling out to you. He corrects himself—   “I’m in love with you.”
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dumbbitchenergy17 · 4 years ago
Text
Extra Part 9
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U.A. a school for students to learn how to become the best Pro-Hero. When young Y/n Midoriya returns from her traveling to be accepted through recommendation. What awaits her when she meet the explosive blonde Katsuki Bakugo
Words- 3062
Katsuki Bakugo x Midoriya!Reader, Izuku Midoriya x Cousin!Reader
Warning-Spoilers from show and Hero license Arc, and fighting scenes.
Series Masterlist
You had followed Bakugo around the city-like district for a while with no encounters with any other examinees. “Bakugo you shouldn’t just run off.” You called after him as he began climbing up a ladder to a highway.
“Hey Kaminari why did you follow us?” Kirishima asked right behind you as you all climbed.
“I dunno. Cause you guys started running then Y/n followed. I didn’t wanna end up alone” Denki answered. “Where are we going?”
“SHUT UP.” Bakugo yelled not wanting to be with you all.
“Why you always gotta be so mad?” Denki complained.
“I told you to chill out Bakugo.” Kirishima scolded the blonde, “Looks like there’s a lot of people up there.” Bakugo was the first to get onto the street with you following and Kirishima and Kaminari behind you, “So I think the four of us should work together.” Kirishima states.
“Go die.” Bakugo huffs
“Come on man.” Kirishima groans.
You sigh following the blonde “We just need to find someon-”
“LOOK OUT!” Kirishima yells as he pushes you forward out of the way of an attack. He grabbed by some flesh like blob
“Kirishima!” Denki cries out you watch in horror as he is smushed up into a ball of goop and that’s when you see that you're not alone. In front of the three of you is a student from Shiketsu holding the Kirishima blob surrounded by more blobs of other students. ‘I think his name was Shishikura’ you thought “What the crap. Did that really just happen?” Denki looks at the blobs of students.
“All I know is that bastard looks like he’s to blame.” Bakugo growls out stepping forward, “So I’ll kill him.”
“I’m from Shiketsu. Please notice my school keeps our hats on when we’re working,” Shishikura stated, holding the blob of Kirishima that twitched and moved every so often. “Why’s that because each and every one of our movements is crowned by the legacy and honor of our school.” He drops Kirishima, him falling, lying with the other blobs. “This is a demonstration. Proof of the difference in level between my peers and your vulgar class. We value obligation and dignity things that appear to be sorely lacking among you.” 
Bakugo smirks back at the student in front of you three “I really hate your type.” 
Kaminari pales and glances at you “He’s hard to follow. Makes me feel kinda dumb.”
“He said his beady eyes are full of tears, so he can’t see how strong his opponents are” Bakugo mocks him making you chuckle.
“My eyes are dry and handsome, thank you!” He yells
“Hey. Maybe don’t provoke this guy?” Kaminari tries to warn Bakugo, “Look what he did to Kirishima!” A ‘tch’ comes from Bakugo as both him and the Shiketsu student glare at each other.
“U.A High I have respect for your school. I take pride in the fact that our institutions are treated as equals.” He leans forward flesh coming from behind his back, “But your class is shameful, you act in ways that disgrace heroes.”
“He’s attacking again! I don’t wanna be gross!” Kaminari hides behind you as you watch to see what Bakugo is going to do.
“Bakugo don’t do anything reckless.” You warn him
“Shut up! ‘Obligation?’ ‘Dignity?’ you just like to hear yourself talk. I don’t see any proof. Show us with your actions, not your cheap words. If you can.” He taunts him a grin on his face.
“Beast. You’re worst of all, Bakugo!” He yells kneading five fingers out of thin air and launches them towards you all. You get ready to defend a red haze surrounding your hands, while Bakugo uses one of his special moves.
“AP Shot. Auto-Cannon!” Little explosions are sent flying towards the fingers destroying the flesh some of the explosions hitting Shishikura. “I had to make a weak version so I didn’t kill anyone.” Bakugo smirks as Shishikura gets back up 
“You know what, this is why everyone’s terrified of you- you’re way too hardcore!” Kaminari watches his friend in fear. The flesh that Bakugo had destroyed started floating back to Shishikura’s arms.
“So those weird flesh things just float back to him?” You question as his arms go back to normal.
“I see now. I’ll teach you a lesson by breaking you.” He calls out more flesh leaving his arms surrounding him.
“Uh Bakugo you better think of something or we’re gonna end up like Kirishima.” You called out ready to fight.
“This will show you what it means to be dignified and behave like a hero!”
“What is up with this disgusting dude?” Kaminari shivers grossed out by this whole situation.
“He thinks he’s better than us,” Bakugo rushed towards him, “But I bet he’ll shut up when I-”
“Hey, wait don’t forget we’re in the middle of a test!” Kaminari calls out as you both watch as the blonde goes to attack,
“That’s exactly why I’ll kill the guy!”
“Bakugo stop, we have to focus on the task at hand.” You yell out.
Flesh shoots out towards Bakugo as Shishikura yells, “Absurd!” You and Kaminari both rush to fight as you use your quirk to hold pieces of flesh while Bakugo explodes them.
“Ugh let’s get this fight over with,” Kaminari puts some projectiles into his new gear and fires towards him, “Maybe this’ll speed things along.”
Shisikura dodges. “You should work on your aim.” He comments sending an attack towards Kaminari but you stop it sending the flesh back to him creating a shield in front of you and Kaminari as more flesh heads towards the two of you. “And your look. Maybe I can make you something more appealing.”
“Enough talk. Die!” Bakugo yells, sending another AP Shot towards your opponent. A huge explosion happens, smoke covering your field of vision clearing to show him covered with flesh in front of him as a shield.
“You’ve left yourself open.”
“Kacchan!” You yell but are too late when there is a lump of flesh on his shoulders.
“What the-”
“You weren’t paying attention. I had a piece of flesh sneak beneath us. You saw Kirishima earlier once I touch you, you’re my plaything.” Bakugo struggles to free himself as he begins to get smushed into a lump
“Bakugo!” Kaminari and you both rush to his rescue.
“Hey! Idiot! Fix this!” Bakugo yells at you, tossing something to you, and you both have no choice but to watch him turn into a lump of flesh like the others. 
“Pathetic. You must be remade from scratch.” You both look at the blob that is Bakugo that squirms.
“No way!” Kaminari eyes widened and you look at Shishikura with disgust.
“This is a demonstration. The test has an unusually low passing rate at first this seemed counterintuitive given our current world. With All Might retired, wouldn’t it make more sense to flood the streets with heroes? And so, I must assume that their goal is to weed out the riff raff. We can surmise that they’ve starting to be more selective in order to bring the profession of hero to a higher level. And I agree with this way of thinking so I decided to thin the herd myself.” Shishikura rattled on about the reason he was here.
“You’re not even focusing on the test.” You frowned.
“You’re ignoring the test because you think you’re superior? What are you, a crazy person?” Kaminari looks at the guy across from the two of you in confusion.
“I’m simply separating the mediocre and extraordinary,” He brings his foot up pressing down against the lump of Kirishima, “By the way, your comrades here still feel pain in this form. Your untamed electricity will torture your friends if you use it.” He points out and he was right Kaminari quirk can sometimes go out of control when he uses it.
“Ugh you’ve been doing nothing but hurling insults at us this entire time. I’m kinda starting to take it personally, ya know.” Kaminari sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Then perhaps you are more self-aware than I thought I’d take time to reflect on your failure.” He sends flesh fingers towards the two of you.
“How about you reflect on this!” You yell, throwing the object Bakugo had given you a explosion happening, sending his attack halting.
Both you and Kaminari dodge a piece of flesh heading towards you, “Those ugly-ass gauntlets of his aren’t just some kind of fashion statement. He can use that gear along with his nitro sweat to create simple grenades.” You replied, getting ready to retaliate.
“That’s it! He tossed it to you.” He put the pieces together. You and Kaminari both stood fully a red haze surrounding your hands as the same red followed your eyes.
“By the way, big shot.” Kaminari called out holding out his hand that had sparks coming from it, “You stumbled into a really killer spot.” Shishikura tries to run away but you use your quirk to keep him in place as Kaminari fires electricity at him. He falls down sparks coming from him, it all made sense with Kaminari new gear he would be able to attack without hurting his teammates. That was the same thing with Bakugo; he had used smaller explosions not because he wanted to test out a new move, so he wouldn’t hit Kirishima, Kaminari, and you. He actually had you all on his mind.
“Listen up. Bakugo might seem like a total jerk on the surface, but he’s actually trying really hard to be a pro hero.” You defend the blob of a friend in front of you and you could see that Bakugo was slowly going back to normal. “He threw that grenade to me while being attacked. That was a result of calm judgement and planning and Kirishima is a such a good dude that he rushed into enemy territory for his friends, even thought it was a totally stupid thing to do.” you continued on as Kirishima started going back to normal. “You only know bits and pieces of these guys. Don’t insult what you don’t know!” You yell a ball of red energy forming at your hand and Kaminari readies his electricity.
“I’ll teach you both to be more aware of your place. You degenerates!” He yells and you both get ready to attack but a punch to the gut by Kirishima stops him followed by an explosion sends him flying back.
“The more damage he takes, the more people get released.” Kirishima points out.
“No wonder he was only using long-distance attacks.” Bakugo replies and they both turn to the two of you.
“Thanks for the save you guys.” Kirishima nods.
“You idiot. What took so long?” Bakugo yelled, flicking your forehead “Oww I just saved you guys.” You rubbed the spot he flicked.
“Why are you so mean?” Kaminari cries, “No one’s ever gonna like you if you act that way! Woah, look behind you!” Kaminari points behind you three. “Those other flesh balls are all waking up.” You watch as the other capture students turn normal getting up. Bakugo licks his lips looking at the multiple students
“We’ve got targets.”
The four of you standoff to the new opponents. One opponent looks and sees the four of you standing across from them. “Hey! They’re from U.A.” They yell and everyone else notices as well and gets ready to fight.
“So game plan?” Kirishima asks, hardening one of his arms.
“We fight.” You yell running past them going straight into fighting, knocking down a few students with a blast of energy using hand to hand combats mixed in with your psionic energy.
“You heard her.” Bakugo smirks rushing after joining in on the fight. You and Bakugo work in tandem you using your quirk to weaken them physically then sending them Bakugo way to finish them off with his quirk. You also used your quirk on the defensive stopping people from hitting your friends targets and you own as well. Bakugo and Kirishima were able to get their two targets with Kaminari following right after. You made you way over to one of the students that were knocked out going to get your final person.
“Y/n watch out!” Kaminari yells and you turn just in time to see someone rushing towards you trying to hit your target. A red haze surrounds their body as they almost touch you but you bend backwards, one of your arms going to the ground as the other flings over your head. The person follows right as you bend back flying right over you hitting one of the walls getting knocked out. You stand upright getting your final person the target on you lighting up blue and you turn to look at the three guys all of them shocked. Some are better than others at hiding it, Kaminari’s jaw is on the floor as you go over to them.
“That was so cool Midoriya.” Kirishima compliments you and you smiled.
“Cool! That was so badass you were like woosh and then that guy went right over you. How did you even do that?” Kaminari was fanboying over what you just did making you laugh and Bakugo huff.
“Relax Denki, I’ve just been training a lot now that’s all.” You patted him on the shoulder heading off toward the designated area for people who passed. Kaminari turned to the other guys
“She called me Denki.” He freaked over a girl calling him by his first name,
“That is your name though Kaminari.” Kirishima pointed out.
“Yeah but she didn’t call you guys by your first name huh.” Kaminari pointed to the two other boys.
“Shut up Spark Plug.” Bakugo growled explosions popping from his hands.
You had finally made it away from the city area and was heading towards the anteroom when an announcement went off “Oh. 4 more one after the other our total’s at 83.” The voice droned off continuing to announce.
“Whoa, this entire arena’s going insane.” Kirishima said as you could see fighting happening off in the distance.
Kaminari looked forward before pointing “Hey, look, some of our classmates.” You could also see that Izuku, Uraraka, and Sero had passed as well. “Aw, yeah! Class-A represent!” Kaminari cheered heading over to the three of them.
“Oh you know it! Our class is amazing! We did it!” Uraraka smiled and her and the three other boys began to dance leaving you, Izuku and Bakugo on the side. 
“Hey Izuku! What happened to your face?” You rush over to your cousin looking at the cut on him, coddling him making him turn red. You both saw Bakugo making his way over to you two.
“So you passed, too. How’d you manage that, Deku?” His face showing hidden anger
“Kacchan. Hey!” Izuku greeted him and you could see he was getting nervous. 
“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised with that Quirk you got.” He grumbles walking past the two of you and you hear Izuku gasp and begin to freak out. “It looks like you’ve made that borrowed power your own.” Bakugo said, walking off to the anteroom.
You look over to your cousin and he seemed deep in thought at what Bakugo had said. “Izuku does Bakugo know about your quirk?” You both begin to make you way out of the arena with the others following behind you.
“Uh that’s complicated.” You both enter the anteroom seeing more of your classmates there.
“Oh, hey! What a relief. I was starting to get so worried.” Momo smiled as you guys walked up to her.
“No need to worry about us, Yao-momo.” Kaminari answers, “What’s up? When did you guys pass? You been here long?”
“We just finished as well. Todoroki beat us.” Shoji pointed over to where the bi-colored boy was sitting.
“I was kinda shocked Bakugo wasn’t here already.” Jiro added seeing him arriving with the group. “But I get it now. It’s because you were with him.”
“Oh come on! Why is everyone dragging me today? Y/n and I actually helped them!” He cried out in frustration.
“Oh I know she probably had to watch over the three of you to make sure you passed but surprised you did something.” Jiro looked over to you.
“They were completely helpless.” You tease them and Bakugo is ready to beat you up will Kaminari cries feeling dumb. You head over to where Izuku is and there he was talking to Todoroki.
“Looks like only twelve from our class have passed.” Todoroki gets a headcount of the people you’re with.
“So nine more to go.” Izuku states and Momo walks up to the group. “And the announcement said only 17 spots left.” You all look at the tv where it was showing live footage from the arena. Come on guys you can do it.
Ms. Joke and Mr. Aizawa watch from the bleachers as the fight continues on. “Wow. seven people just passed at the same time. That leaves only ten open spots.” The announcement goes off. Ms Joke laughs standing up seeing the people heading towards the anteroom.
“Ha! Those seven were all from my class! See e’m? They’re heading into the anteroom.”
From inside the anteroom you see more people come in all not from your class.
“Looks like our class,” Momo trails off.
“Still has nine people who haven���t passed.” Jiro finishes for her as the time begins to run out, “I hate to say it, but it’s not sounding good for us.”
“Come on guys you can do it.” You whisper to yourself watching the tv. You all watch as UA comes together taking out a swarm of examinees and then you hear the alarm go off.
“The last students passed! Every stop is now filled. One hundred students will advance! The end is finally here! Wah-hoo” The announcer yells excitedly. 
“Yeah!” Kaminari and Kirishima cheer as you class freaks out.
“Our entire class passed the test, I’m so excited!” Uraraka beams, throwing her hands up
“Aw, man! I am so proud of us!” Sero cheers.
“We all made it!” You smile looking around at your other classmates.
“We really pulled it off, you guys.” Izuku sighs out in relief as your classmates on the field begin to join you all. A step closer in getting our licenses.
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irondadgroupie · 3 years ago
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I’ve been suffering from depression because of my no-future life and can’t help but project my feelings to Peter and life kicking him down. HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS. Do not read this if you are faint of heart. Deals with suicide. 
Imagine Peter doesn’t get into MIT. Tony was certain he was a shoe-in, no doubt, he had a recommendation letter and the grades. So when he finds out about the rejection, he makes a very heated call to the admission committee and demands to know the reason. “Mr Stark, this year’s class is extremely talented. The competition was fiercer than ever. He can always reapply next year.” Tony immediately withdraws his donation to his alma mater but it is no use.  As if rejection from MIT was not enough, Peter is also rejected from other schools he applied to. The boy is absolutely devastated, his social media is filled with his friends’ cheery posts and he falls into deep depression. “I worked so hard.” The boy whispers, after another day of staring at a wall. “I know you did, buddy.” Tony rubs his shoulder. He had taken time off work, he could not bear to leave Peter alone. “I aced all exams, I crushed SATs, I did all the projects, homework and I patrolled. All my life I’ve focused on school, it’s the only thing I was good at.” “You know that is not true.”  “I’m a failure. I’ve wasted my life.” Ned, who got a full scholarship to Columbia, has to beg Peter to go to the prom with him, to make some memories. Four hours later, Tony gets a call from the same boy that Peter has passed out from drinking a bottle of vodka. Peter doesn’t want a graduation party. He just gets his diploma, takes the obligatory pictures and then locks himself into his room for the rest of the day, neverminding the lavish buffet Pepper has set up to celebrate. Team has a silent lunch. Peter sleeps a lot. He doesn’t go outside, doesn’t see his friends, stops patrolling and spends his days staring at a television. Tony calls his psychiatrist and Peter is called in for emergency evaluation and after two hours, he enters the Penthouse with a bottle of antidepressants. “These might make you feel a bit yucky.” Tony gives him a glass of water to wash the pills down with. “But it will clear out in about a week.” It takes about two months until they see any kind of improvement and by that time his friends have left for college. Tony hires him as his personal assistant to build up his resume but most importantly, to give him a purpose in life. And maybe the boy needed a bit of downtime after the hectic couple of years being Spiderman proved to be.  Peter applies to MIT again. And is rejected. The shock is even greater this time. “I don’t get it.” The boy hyperventilates. “What did I do wrong? What am I missing? What do I lack?” MIT doesn’t have any more say in the matter, Tony can hear from their voice they are still irked of him withdrawing his money.  Peter starts studying at a community college. He hates it from the first day. It’s not his place. Work is not challenging enough and the courses interest him very little. He doesn’t connect with the faculty who are all perplexed why the protege of Tony Stark is there. He drops out after a few months and makes a return as Tony’s PA.  Third time’s the charm. Not this time, MIT is closed to him. “I’m done.” Peter tears the rejection letter, there are no tears in his eyes, no panic in his voice. Just emptiness. “I’m not gonna do this anymore.” “There are always other courses and schools.” “I learn more from working with you-” “You could at least get a diploma. It must be worth something.” He never thinks about the option more than fleetingly and ends up floating.He tries several jobs but nothing seems right. As Morgan grows up, Pepper starts thinking about getting Peter in on SI. Tony and her had always had the idea of letting Peter lead the company and eventually share it with Morgan. But the board resists. “He doesn’t have a college degree.” “So?” Tony attacks, thinking back to the dark days when he had to practically bribe the boy to eat something. “Degree is just a fancy paper.” “We can’t ensure someone like that to run this company.” “Excuse me but last time I checked I own lion’s share of this place! I make these decisions.” “You can’t walk over the board with this one, Stark. SI is a demanding company. Your father hired us to keep his legacy alive. I’m sure your boy is a nice young man, but he is not fit to run SI.” Tony breaks the news to Peter gently and the boy, no, a man, shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer.  “I knew that- or- I guessed it would happen. Parker luck. This year has been a shit show anyway.” Tony looks at his boy, thinking of the struggles Peter had faced during the last five months: May’s cancer diagnosis, Peter’s constant money problems, a patrol that had gone so bad the boy had spent two weeks at Medbay and still had to eat strong painkillers. “Morgan is having a birthday party next week.” “I don’t have money for a present.” “You don’t need-” “It’s her birthday, she deserves a present, okay.” Peter was always defensive when it came to his finances. Tony was always ready to help but Peter rarely asked for it. Peter only gave him a chance when the man visited and saw the empty fridge, or the pile notices on his table. “I’ve been reading a lot.” “About?” “Success stories. Some make it big without college degrees. Some don’t even graduate from high school. Why didn’t it happen to me? Why did I end up with a no-end job and still have count pennies? Is it a punishment for something I did?” “No. Peter- your time will come.” “When?” Peter asks, his eyes on his father-figure. “I’m done waiting.” If Tony wasn’t worried yet, he was when it was time to pay for the food. “I’ve got this.” Tony is ready to take out his walled.  “No, I’m good.” “Kiddo, let me-” “I’m 31 years old, I can pay for my own fucking meal!” Peter slams the money on the table and gets up. “I was just trying to help.” Tony tried to smooth things over. “Well don’t! I don’t need your help! Go be with your daughter and leave me alone!” “I’m thinking of mental institution.” Tony muttered to Rhodey, softly so the other guests would not pay them too much attention. “Kind of like a rehab center, where he can rest and get intensive therapy.” “Sounds good. I remember it helped you a lot.” “Yeah.” Tony nods, thinking of the few weeks he spent gathering his thoughts after Civil War. “Kind of wish I had started therapy earlier. But letter late than never, right?” Rhodey looked around the room. “Wasn’t Peter supposed to come?” “He must be running late.” Tony shrugged. “Traffic.” Hours passed and still no Peter.  “Kiddo, I’m serious. Call me back.” Tony left fifth voice mail and checked Peter’s whatsapp status: online 10:11. Almost seven hours ago.  Dread filled his stomach. Something was wrong.  Steve offered to drive him to Peter’s apartment. Tony clutched his phone like a lifeline.He debated calling 911 but what could he say. Peter was an adult, had the right to not answer and he was not in immediate danger... right? They walked to the fifth floor. Peter did not answer the doorbell.  Please don’t be there, Tony was muttering under his breath and unlocked the door.  “Peter?” Him and Steve stepped in. “Kiddo?” The apartment was silent. Tony looked around the kitchen. Table was filled with bills and a new letter. An eviction notice.  Tony turned white. Peter had not mentioned anything.  He turned around when Steve stepped back from Peter’s bedroom. His eyes were wide and teary.  “What is it?” Tony knew before the man had the chance to tell.  “Don’t go in there, Tony.” “What do you mean? I have to find him.” “We-” Steve stopped him. “We need to call someone. Peter’s-” Eventhough Tony had known, maybe from the time Peter had failed to answer the first call, his heart refused to believe it.  “No.” He shook his head. “No...” “Don’t-” He tore himself from Steve’s hold and opened the door to the bedroom. The room was red. Peter laid on the bed, a gun in his hand and his head- Tony screamed like he never had before. It was a guttural, raw sound. He sank to his knees, eyes locked on what was left of his child. Steve supported him, one hand rubbing his arm while with his other he called the proper authorities, Tony’s anguished cries making it almost impossible to make out any other words on the other end. 
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dr-nero-is-god · 4 years ago
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i felt the urge to riff on the hive streams for a little bit since discussion came up on the hive discord, namely, holding issue with the idea that the alpha stream is inconsistent in that it is about leadership when otto is the only leader, and that it’s also possible that the alphas are just kids with specialized skills, and not actually bonded by any particular unifying element.
and, in response, @vulpix-sinistre brought up a quote from the abridged hive fanfic, that goes something like: “there are four streams: main characters, stereotypical bullies, ?, and nerds.”
and i disagree with the first two ideas, but almost completely agree with the abridged fic quote. that is pretty much how the streams work, and it is IMPORTANT that that is how the streams work. 
in the end, you may conclude that the streams system still doesn’t make sense. you won’t be like “well clearly dr. nero was just logically dividing the labor of his students to reflect a specialized training program” because it’s more complicated on that. i  hate to do this to y’all, but a lot of everything streams-related requires an out-of-book explanation to get where you’re going, but i can promise that i will at least try to go
first, let’s think about why h.i.v.e. would have streams at all
on the one hand, it’s inescapable to consider that one primary reason that hive has streams is because harry potter had houses, and for the same reason that percy jackson had cabins, the 39 clues had branches, hunger games had sections (or counties, idk), divergent had factions, and so on and so on. the rise of fandom spaces on the internet was concurrent with a big ya/mg boom in the post-2005 world (after twilight was published), and within those fandom spaces it became important to identify with an aspect of the fantasy world as part of your personality. that became a very marketable thing for a while, and so separating children into streams would, to a publisher, seem like a pretty solid storytelling choice.
however! the alpha stream is not the same as gryffindor house. on the one hand, it seems easy to make an alpha/gryffindor and henchman/slytherin parallel, because one group is good (relatively) and one is bad (or at least antagonistic). but it doesn’t work because while slytherin has a reputation for constituents of poor moral character (which has been largely revised in fanon), being a henchman is where you go, according to the books, if you are unintelligent and burly. it’s not a really sexy stream, is what i’m trying to say. and though there are undoubtedly some readers who would look at the henchman stream and see themselves, i think the majority of readers would likely find the henchman stream a completely undesirable stream to be in. 
and, given how little importance the role of streams have after the first book, i will go out on a limb and say that mark walden knows that the henchman stream is unsexy. we aren’t interested in the hopes and dreams and motivations of the henchman stream; as we learn in book two, the ideal henchman is weak-minded and easily led—so what dreams would they even have? this leads me to conclude that while mark walden might have sold h.i.v.e. on the “there are personality-based groups in the school!” idea, he had something completely else in mind when he started writing and that, I think, is actually far more interesting.
but really, why would h.i.v.e. have streams at all
a few things about mark walden: 1) he studied english lit in school, 2) he has a background as a video game producers, and 3) he likes james bond. i know the first two things because i have read his bio and i know the third thing because i have read his books in conjunction with seeing all the james bond films. so we will call 1-3 facts. 
if you are wondering what a lit degree, video game production, and the james bond franchise all have in common, then let me connect those dots: all three of those things depend heavily on the study and understanding of repetitive structure in storytelling as an interpreter and creator of meaning. each one of these fields requires an understanding of how stories and words work to create meaning in order to be successful. 
and, to quote mr. walden here directly (sourced from this here link):
“So, I was playing with this cat one day and it got me thinking that those old-school Bond villains always just seemed to appear out of thin air with very little back story and that got me thinking about how they became world- conquering megalomaniacs in the first place.  It was only a short mental walk from there to HIVE.”
so, imagine you’re a writer trying to tell a story about a school for villains like those in james bond—you’ve studied storycraft and you have a lot of experience in a job finding believable and compelling obstacles for people to interact with in video games. you have noticed patterns. and you need to make those patterns work for you.
enter: streams
i have watched all the james bond movies (all of ‘em) (i mean it) (just not the unreleased one yet lol) and you know what? 
there’s probably just about four kinds of villains in those movies.
henchmen include the likes of jaws, oddjob, and tee hee. often physically disabled in a cinematically interesting way, these guys are the muscles and the machines in every bond film. they are the ones who tail bond as he takes long train rides and who try to personally throw him into shark tanks. they are the hands and feet of their evil masters and they don’t have a lot of emotional depth or backstory. 
politicians/financiers abound in the james bond franchise because he is a government employee who often hangs out with other government employees (he has no friends). these people are like colonel rosa klebb, georgi koskov, prince kamal khan. there are a lot more, as a matter of fact, because the whole point of james bond is that they are in the cold war and even people without titles have political and financial motivations for screwing around with stuff. these types of villains depend on being well and truly embedded in an existing infrastructure or hierarchy, somebody who worked their way up from being a foot soldier or clerk into a powerful leadership position that gives them a lot of state-sanctioned trust and authority.
technicians and inventors include folks like henry gupta and boris grishenko, who use technology as their primary weapon. they are often inventors or innovators and are really good at making high-tech stuff. however, i think this stream is also a direct result of the character Q, someone who is actually on James Bond’s team and who runs an entire department of people who test sometimes outlandish gadgets for Bond to use in the field. (but we love the gadgets. they are fun.) in other words, Bond arguably has a technical stream at his disposal in MI6, which means the idea isn’t necessarily evil, but, likewise, our James Bond School also needs Qs. it’s the rules. if you are familiar with Q from James Bond at all then you understand
and that leaves us with alphas... the “supervillains.” these are the famous ones. dr. no. mr. big. scaramanga. le chiffre. blofeld. max zorin. emilio largo. goldfinger. these are the ones with the master plan, the dreams to recreate the world as they see it, the passion to see their desires to fulfillment and the resources to make them happen. they are rich. they are fancy. they are larger than life. is it weird that karl stromberg tries to incite a nuclear war between Britain and the USSR so that a lot of people can die so that he can colonize the ocean? yes. but by god, it’s fancy and dramatic, and that’s what counts. 
are there other kinds of villains? oh, definitely. lots more. but you have to understand, that those kinds of villains generally don’t appear in Bond. sometimes! but it’s not a staple. for example, not many people in the bond films are motivated by revenge because each movie is kind of designed to function as a one-shot. villains don’t come back and so there is no revenge. the villain who gets the most notable reprise, jaws, actually ends up finding his true love in space. 
compare: every movie is going to have henchmen. every movie has government stooges making morally questionable decisions. (almost) every movie has Q, or some gadget stuff going on. and every movie has a big bad that has to be better than the last. 
so that explains why the streams are what they are. 
it was a jumping-off point for mark walden to figure out what this universe might look like and how different character types need to function. consider that while the core four are all alphas and are kind of insulated as a group, the teachers all kind of roughly align with one of these groups. colonel francisco, raven, and chief lewis are henchmen types, doing on-the-ground work to get stuff done. ms. tennenbaum and the contessa are political af, they are all about the corruption and infiltrating institutional power. ms. gonzales, ms. leon, and professor pike all have technical skills that help keep an organization moving forward. and over them all is the singular alpha, dr. nero, who is coordinating and monitoring it all for his own evil plan: to run a high school.
honestly, dr. nero’s hive idea operates just like a james bond villain plot! it works, or it does when pitching the idea. the problem is that the books continued after the pitch did, and with worldbuilding came some complications. namely, the fact that the megastructure of james bond villainy does not replicate well into a small friend group on which the narration focuses. so let’s return to the question presented at the beginning:
how can alphas really be alphas when not everyone on the field trip can be a mastermind?
i’m gonna give this to you in two ways. one, the way i personally interpret it as an in-universe explanation, given the background premises we have already established. and the other, why the stream system kind of ruins the structure it sets out to create.
so, for me, the alphas can be alphas because there is more to villainy than being a mastermind and there is more to being a mastermind than being in charge. as i think about it, this novelization is actually the backstory for every one of the students, who will go on to do great and scary things. they will manage big projects and come up with interesting ways to terrorize the British government, because that is what James Bond villains do (and James Bond does canonically exist in their universe). much like your actual teenage years, this is not the main event.
as students, the core four need to learn to do a little bit of everything. you gotta learn some lock-picking, that’s essential. everyone has to be able to climb a rock wall. it’s the rules. and everyone needs to be able to do some programming. that’s just the way school is. though everyone has a different personality and a different way of looking at the world, their education has to cover the basics because the fact of the matter is, none of them are villains yet. will they become one? that remains to be seen. but they are being given the tools to become the greatest villains if that is something they choose. 
the main problem that remains when holding this attitude is that the specialized skills of otto and his friends might be better suited to other streams, in which case, what is an alpha anyways?
here’s the facts: if everyone were assigned to a stream by talent, then there wouldn’t be an alpha stream.
franz? political/financial stream. 
nigel? laura? otto? technical stream.
shelby? wing? henchman stream. 
you can debate me on the specifics of those assignments, but the point is this: all the other streams are based on hard skills. franz can manage a ledger and that is a financial skill. laura can build a computer from scratch and that is a technical skill. wing can do martial arts, and each martial art is a physical skill that can be taught and performed in a measurable level of proficiency. 
the idea of being a “mastermind” is a much softer skill—which is to say, there’s no one recipe that will make it work. my manager at work has coached me by saying that leadership is often about having a “style,” and working at it that way. leadership requires interpersonal flexibility, being able to stay organized and to make important decisions rapidly, it is about being able to prioritize and delegate. and it’s very much open to interpretation, every day, all the time. 
let me tell you something else about james bond: there is a lot of classism, racism, and sexism embedded into every aspect of those films, but that goes for double when it comes to the villains in the show. to vastly oversimplify that very concept, it shows up in the bond films like this: henchmen are working class folks, the villainous equivalent of “the help,” and the supervillains are (usually) rich and glamorous and powerful. henchmen are uneducated (read as: stupid) and ugly and poor. no one cares if they die. (there’s more complexities, as always, but this essay isn’t actually about james bond so we’ll fast forward through My Opinions to the end)
the problem with replicating james bond in your villain school universe is that some of the biases of the james bond universe get replicated in there, too. poor and uneducated folks get turned into disposable henchmen whose lives are irrelevant. people who are educated and talented get fast-tracked to a more glamorous and interesting stream that will catapult them to the top of the ladder as soon as they graduate. if you look at the dialect with which block and tackle are written, they are clearly meant to be seen as a different social class than otto, despite the fact that otto is coming from basically nothing. and we understand that when otto graduates, he will be able to do basically anything that he wants to at all.
so, if you’re asking why wing has a role in the alpha stream when he doesn’t seem as leader-y as otto, there’s a simple answer: because dr. nero believes that wing can be more.
the climax of book one is dr. nero explicitly telling otto, wing, laura, and shelby that they are in his school because he believes in them and he wants to see them grow. they are given an elite status other students do not have despite the fact that they have just literally tried to escape. as we see in the case of duncan cavendish, the main way to get on that highway to a guaranteed career is to convince him that you’ve “got it.” for those who are not believed in, there is no way to make up for the special grooming. you’re stuck with the stream you’re placed in, doomed (perhaps) to be a second-in-command at best.
is all this intentional? probably not. but it is implicit in the structure of the story and, alas, that’s the way it is.
all i can think to say in conclusion is that while the stream system tends to replicate some of the unfair and classist realities present in other media and the world we live in, i think part of the reason we read h.i.v.e. is because the alpha stream is so appealing. imagine! you are competent and you have a desirable, specialized skill as well as a proficiency in many general skills and you are certain you are going to do good things—and all because someone believes in you. to receive someone else’s support and confidence can be life-changing. the magic of h.i.v.e. is that yes—lives are changed and ordinary, boring people were elevated to the level of supervillains. we are only left to wonder, are they the only people who deserved that honor?
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thefudge · 4 years ago
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Do you have any Romanian (language or just content-wise) media recs? Particularly novels and poetry but really any must-sees/must-reads are welcome!
uuuu! 
my brain is too fried right now to do any kind of exhaustive list so i’m gonna rec a few things that i know you could get your hands on/available in translation:
for two thousand years, by mihail sebastian - really heartbreaking yet also lucid, adventurous and darkly humorous memoir of a Jewish writer in his youth at the height of nazism in romania (there’s even a Penguin classic of it)
diary of a short-sighted adolescent by mircea eliade - a funny and bittersweet bildungsroman about a bookish teenager who wants to read everything now and be the cleverest person alive while also struggling with being super lazy and unmotivated because he’s young and restless, it’s very #relatable. but it’s also fascinating to read this in opposition with “for two thousand years” because eliade entertained legionnaire nazi sympathies at one point. (also, you should check out his novellas too, especially the fantastic ones)
anything you can find in translation by gabriela adamesteanu - just lovely, delicate prose about growing up, being an adult, inhabiting your body and your feelings in an oppressive world 
the hatchet by mihail sadoveanu (apparently, there is a translation) - a lot of people give this novel flak, mostly because we had to read it in high school, but it’s a great and deceptively simple little novel that says a lot more about people than it cares to admit. the action takes you through several villages in the East-Carpathians, where a peasant woman goes in search of her missing husband. it’s a fascinating mixture of crime and folklore and mythology. 
any novella by costache negruzzi, but especially “alexandru lapusneanu”, another classic we had to read in school and which gets a lot of flak. it’s so bonkers and #quality-trash. let’s just say there’s a scene where the power-hungry voievod/prince lapusneanu enacts a red-wedding situation and builds a pyramid of freshly severed heads to impress his lady wife *swoon* 
the forest of the hanged by liviu rebreanu - i know people argue this isn’t his best novel, but it’s got the most heart. it’s the story of a soldier/philosopher in WW1 who falls in love with people again. that’s it. he falls in love with people, and the war and everything in between doesn’t matter anymore. or it matters only as it pertains to people, and people alone. 
gallants of the old court by mateiu caragiale - a bizarre gem of early 20th century Romanian nightlife, a wonderful, orgiastic fugue, feverish and infuriating. it’s mostly about rich men and social-climbers getting into existential trouble, but also into real trouble. normally, because the action takes place right before WW1, this would signify the end of an era. but we don’t really have a beginning or end. we are part-balkan, part-french imitators, part-whatever-sticks. nothing moves us, and everything does. and that’s why it’s a sort of love/hate letter to romanians 
in terms of poetry, some personal faves:  nichita stanescu, ana blandiana, monica pillat, marin sorescu,  a.e. baconsky, lucian blaga, emil brumaru, nora iuga, marta petreu, nina cassian. and yes, mihai eminescu, our national poet, though i’m often in two minds about him.  
poetry in translation is really hit and miss because of the “untranslatable”, so here’s two lines from a poem by nina cassian, because i want to show you what i mean:
            De când m-ai părăsit mă fac tot mai frumoasă             ca hoitul luminând în întuneric. 
this roughly and poetically translates to:
          Since you left me I’ve grown more beautiful
           like the corpse lighting the dark 
and this is sort of lovely on its own, but you’d need to know and hear and taste the word “hoit” in romanian to really feel the abjectness, because “hoit” is a smelly, ugly yet also alluring, already decomposing version of “cadavru” aka cadaver/corpse. also “ mă fac tot mai frumoasă” cannot be accurately summed up in “i’ve grown more beautiful”. a literal translation would be “I make myself more beautiful”. in romanian, this is obviously idiomatic and not literal. and yet, these strange self-reflexive valences make these lines strong and eerie, as if the speaker were authoring her beauty, shaping it out of clay and darkness and “hoit”,  like a butterfly cracking the corpse’s shell to get out, but also retaining some of its mesmerizing stench. why did i pause to do a close-reading of romanian poetry??? anyway, you catch my drift
in terms of movies, a recent one i really loved was sierranevada by cristi puiu, which is a neurotic family drama that drains you but also lifts you up 
and yeah, the hype is real, 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days by cristi mungiu really is that good (about two young women trying to get an illegal abortion in communist romania. it won the palme d’or for very legit reasons. it breaks you in small ways. the very last shot of the film you’ll carry with you forever). i also liked graduation by cristi mungiu, where a young overachieving girl is about to graduate high school and go on to study abroad, until a terrible event unmoors both her and her family. the movie turns almost hallucinatory at one point, filled with ambiguity and a kind of sleep-walking quality 
tales from the golden age by cristi mungiu (him again!) is also fantastic for anyone who wants to get a taste of communist romania and the sad-funny absurdities of everyday life. this movie is split in 2 parts and the format is that of an anthology, almost like watching several short films at once. and there is one film in the anthology that always turns me inside out, and it’s really silly, it’s this bonnie and clyde type story about this girl and boy who meet at a party and devise an ingenious get-rich scam and just run around a few neighborhoods trying to put it into practice and it’s...the sweetest, most incomplete thing. there is such a strange, lovely connection there that never gets realized, and there is a MOMENT between them where he helps her step down from this ledge and he holds her briefly to him and i remember being in the cinema and thinking THIS, this is THE MOMENT where i felt these people were real. it was such an honest, lovely moment. like the equivalent of this song. ANYWAY, why am i rambling so much??? this ask was supposed to be SHORT. 
aferim! by radu jude is also a really neat movie and provides a look into the historical romanian/rroma relationship and why it’s so messed up, yet also so organic
the death of mr. lazarescu by cristi puiu is also a great little film about a man who gets sick and goes to the hospital. and...dies, as you can tell from the title. on the surface, he dies because of institutional ineptness and a broken healthcare system. at a deeper level, he dies because we no longer know how to help people. various hospital staff in the film do try to help him and fail for various stupid or quietly heartbreaking reasons. it’s a movie about being physically unable to care. there’s indifference, sure, but also this great exhaustion of the human spirit. but the movie is also darkly funny. might not be a great pandemic watch, but then again it might be exactly what you need 
there are soooo many other classics in terms of books (morometii by marin preda, for instance, about a patriarch in a small village in the South who slowly realizes the world he used to live in doesn’t have room for him anymore, and maybe it never had) but i’m gonna end on a quote from ion creanga, one of the most cryptic classics of romanian lit:
“Şi eu eram vesel ca vremea cea mai bună şi şturlubatic şi copilăros ca vântul în tulburea sa”
my translation: “and I was cheerful like the best weather and frolicsome and childish like the wind in its cloudiness” 
and again, the words in romanian and their particular sound and bite (”şturlubatic”, “tulburea”) immediately take me elsewhere. creanga writes about childhood, but it’s never really childhood. he writes as an adult who, in my opinion, was never really a child, but a weird, small god of the land. i mean the word “tulburea” can mean both “turmoil” and “muddiness”. the wind can be anguished, but also just a little cloudy, just a little hazy, shrinking its agony, howling it in the child. it’s eerie and gorgeous. so, that’s what he does: creanga writes about children as if they were wind-like spirits. he writes stories about devils and the peasants who trick them and school books filled with spit and flies, and warm eggs stolen from nests and fairy-tales of a world that is buried somewhere inside us, but not too deep, things hidden under our clothes or nails or even in our hair. and it’s all so physical and convoluted, just like his prose. and i don’t think anyone will ever make sense of him and that’s what makes him so discombobulatingly great.
anyway, this was supposed to be...like, really short! and not gassy! i’m sorry. i love waxing about all this gay stuff. i’m so gay about it. 
realistically tho, the nearest thing you’ll find in your local bookshop is probably books by famous ‘theater of the absurd’ playwright, eugen ionesco, or novels in translation by contemporary author mircea cartarescu. both are pretty good, so go for it! (if you want to start small, i’d recommend REM by mircea cartarescu, because it’s so trippy and meta and captures that summer holiday eeriness so well. it goes well with this romanian song sung in english)
okay byeeeee 
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