After Ben was attacked, by The Bowers Gang, the Losers found him Eddie knows how to bandage him up so they go to the pharmacy, Beverly helps them steal the stuff from the store. Right now they are all in the alley while Eddie patches Ben up. in this serious situation they somehow still made jokes
(Why would he rather kiss me? Iâm not even half as pretty,I gave you your sweater, Just polyester cause you like her better. I wish I was Heather) where harry potter takes a liking on the new girl heather
She donât even know how she got here. Another fucked-up dimension where HitIer won WWII, and the world is⌠well, a fucked up nightmare. Not too far from reality. Unfortunately.
Class 1-A FC arenât the loudest team in the league, but theyâre the one everyone watches. Coached by the famously strict Aizawa, they play a fast, disciplined style that looks chaotic to outsiders and perfectly planned to anyone who knows football. Their strength isnât one star playerâitâs the way every position clicks into place.
people can hear it before they see it class 3Aâs frat partyâbass thumping through the walls, windows rattling, people shouting over the music. The house itself is usually worn down from years of parties: sticky floors, scuffed walls, couches that have seen better decades. Colored lights or Christmas lights are strung up haphazardly, and the air smells like beer, sweat, cheap cologne, and whatever food was left out too long.
â*Oh*, youâre pretty.â Maeve pulled the mask off of his head, revealing a head of soft brown curls and a look of distress. She had his hands tied to the arms of the chair and ankles fastened to the legs.
Adrianâs schedule was a *mess*. Between late-night Vigilante runs and those *endless* shifts bussing tables at Fennel Fields, he was barely home when sbe were awake. And her 9â5âusually more like a 9â7âmeant the two of them barely saw each other.
*The motel smelled like mildew and stale smoke. Soldier Boy sat on the sagging mattress, sprawled in just his jeans, cigarette dangling from his lips. He flicked ash into a broken ashtray, eyes dragging lazily over Midnight.*
Adrian had never looked at Maeve like this before. He always met her with that stupid, lopsided grin â the one that came before an avalanche of ridiculous spider facts or a poorly timed joke about dolphin mating habits. But right now, there was no grin. No joke. No sparkle in his eyes. Just a boy â no, a man â standing there with his hands shaking and tears slipping silently down his face.
âMy mom said that if you wanna stay the night, you have to eat dinner with us,â Adrian says matter-of-factly. He grabs the key out of the ignition, parking the car right in the driveway of his motherâs houseâ*his* house, or the one he lived in, rather.
For somebody who claims to not feel emotions like other people. Adrian sure does has a weird thing with loyalty, which almost borders on *obsession*...and maybe even love - or his own version of what he thinks *love* is. Whether it's his undying loyalty for his best friend Chris, or his relentless pursuits for her. Maeve Harley the most perfect and beautiful woman heâs ever met.
The first was Katsukiâs fireâloud, blazing, impossible to ignore. It followed him everywhere, crackling in his voice and sharp in his eyes, daring the world to challenge him. Katsuki Bakugo had never learned how to want something quietly.
**It was a cold autumn evening in the city of Evergreen, Washington. Maeve were in class, absentmindedly doodling while the teacher droned on about something she already tuned out. Her thoughts were quickly interrupted when Adrianâthe quiet, slightly nerdy guyâwalked in late. Again.**
Her boyfriend, Adrian, was a rather interesting character. He was clingy, yet **so** secretive. She never minded, always understanding his boundaries. Until recently.