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soft-girl-musings · 10 months ago

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Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 5 (Something's Gotta Give)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N, brief mention of past injury, spanish translation at end (courtesy of @queerponcho, thank you beloved)

wc: 3.4k

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: immovable object? the unstoppable force would like a word.

__________

As far as peace offerings go, it’s not the worst.

At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself as you stand outside your neighbor’s apartment, your fist failing to close the distance and knock. In one hand you hold a plate of pastries you’d bought earlier. Hopefully it’s enough.

Before you can raise your hand again, the door whips open.

Leah Mendoza, ever the force to be reckoned with, stands with arms akimbo and eyebrow raised. “Quit shuffling your feet and come inside, nena.”

You oblige wordlessly. Crossing the threshold, you immediately feel the warmth of her apartment embrace you. Not that she’s escaped the chill that plagues your building; Leah is an artist, and every flat surface serves as either canvas or easel. Most spaces are covered in surreal portraits and near-magical icons, her handiwork displayed as a gorgeously chaotic gallery. Sunlight streams through gauzy curtains to feed sprawling plants and attempts to warm the richly colored rug beneath your feet.

You leave your shoes at the door and hold out the platter, smiling sheepishly. “Hope you still have a sweet tooth.”

“It's been so long, I'm surprised you remember.” Despite her playfully icy tone, Leah’s expression warms as she peeks at the pan de mallorca you hand over.

“...But I suppose going five blocks out of your way for breakfast makes up for it.” She nudges you with her hip before escorting you to the kitchen.

“Look what the cat dragged in, Caro,” Leah calls out to the seating area as she pours two mugs of coffee. You see your other friend’s smiling eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Ohhh, it’s been ages!” she squeals as she rushes to your side, tackling you with an enthusiastic hug.

Caroline Ngo, the youngest of your trio, has always brought a much-needed energy to your time together. When she and her parents moved in, you and Leah decided to adopt her into your early morning ritual of coffee and gossip. As her rosy cheeks beam up at you, you’re (a bit selfishly) grateful that she’s delayed her college applications by a year. You’re not ready to part with your other baby bird just yet.

Still, you pry yourself from her grasp. “Something tells me you had an early start on the coffee.”

“Maybe,” she drawls as she saunters away. Leah passes you a steaming mug, prepared just the way you like it.

The three of you sit, sipping and smiling as the room grows brighter with the sunrise. Leah regales you with the results of her latest art show; Caroline badgers you for updates about Mauricio, dimpled cheeks flushed as she speaks. For a few moments, everything feels like it used to.

Leah finishes her pastry and turns to you. “So, ‘Ms. Songbird’. How are you?”

You shrug, dismissive. “Oh, you know. The usual.”

“No, I don’t know. You haven't been around for us to see your ‘usual’.” Leah's voice is measured, but she’s clearly frustrated. “Can you tell me the last time we've heard more than a ‘good morning’ from you? Or were together for longer than an elevator ride to our floor?”

You chuckle nervously. “Goodness, maybe… August? September?”

“June.” She sips her coffee before setting it down. “Are things really so busy at work that you can't spare a moment for us anymore?”

If only you knew.

“I'm sorry, ladies. Truly. But things have been picking up at the lounge, I've even had to get outside help–”

“Ah yes, the altar boy lawyer.” Leah shakes her head. “I thought you were done with him.”

“‘Done with him?’ Leah, he's my friend.”

“Oh, I recall. So good a friend that he lets you ice his bruises and clean his cuts.” She crosses her arms. “So good, he's even bringing new friends with the same scrapes to your door.”

“The other night was an emergency–”

“How long are you going to run around with that kind of crowd?” Her voice bites. “Believe me, I know my share of the nightlife. But every time you bring home some broken man, a load of trouble seems to follow.”

This is not where you saw the morning going. “I thought we were spending time together, not berating the company I keep.”

“Please don't be upset,” Caroline pleads, taking your hand from her seat on the floor. “We miss you. You haven’t been home in weeks,” she laments. “At least, not for more than a couple of hours.”

You shift in your seat but give her hand a light squeeze. “I've missed you, too.”

“Then do something about it.” Leah gets up, crossing the room to distract herself with more coffee but then doubles back to look you in the eyes.

“You know my gut is never wrong, nena. And I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't speak my mind.”

You brace yourself as she continues. “You can spend your nights hiding behind your Songbird persona and running the lounge, but don't be surprised if the cage you're building around yourself is locked from the inside.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen, leaving you and Caroline in silence.

Slowly, Caroline slides into Leah’s empty seat, her hand still on yours.

“... I always liked your stage name.”

You don’t say anything, instead letting your eyes trail through the patterns on the rug.

She scoots closer. “Leah’s just looking out for you. Like always.”

“I know, Caro.”

You feel her head rest on your shoulder. Tough love has always been Leah’s strong suit; as hard as you are on your boys, it’s bush league compared to your friend.

Caroline’s next words are low, whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “I know that man you were helping.”

You look down at her, dumbfounded. “Really? You know Jake?”

She sits up, eyes wide again. “Well, not technically. I never learned his name. But when he was leaving your apartment, I recognized his face.” Her small smile grows as she speaks. “There were days I’d stay out late after school, and I’d catch a ride from him sometimes. He’s really kind, not like some of the other cab drivers.”

Concern suddenly sweeps across her face. “Is he going to be alright?”

You think back to the morning he left your apartment: his bruises, your stitches, the blood that still stained his coat…

His hand on your hand, your face…

You don’t feel your fingers grazing the apple of your cheek until you hear Caroline giggle. Your hand drops to your lap as your face warms. “He’ll be fine. If he wised up and saw a real doctor, that is.” You shrug, reaching for your coffee.

“You care about him,” she teases.

“Oh, come off it,” you huff, nudging her leg with yours.

“And he obviously cares about you!” She squeals, lowering her voice when Leah turns her head toward the noise. “I saw him leave your apartment, but he stood there for ages, staring at your door.” Her grip on your hand grows unbearably tight. “What happened that night?”

You’ve been asking yourself the same question from the moment he left you standing in a bloodstained gown, your apartment colder without him. Since then, there hasn’t been a moment where you’ve been free from the memory of his face.

“I did him a favor. And… he may have done one for me, too.”

__________

Jake Lockley is man enough to admit when he’s been beaten.

In this case, he's absolutely won over. Head-over-heels, and at your mercy.

Maybe years from now, society adopts stricter rules for how soon you should call on a lady. Even today, some would advise against showing your hand too early. Some men wouldn’t want to seem too eager, too desperate.

But Jake Lockley is not a liar.

If “desperate” is the word for the incessant drumming in his chest each time you come to mind; if it’s what has him cutting corners and driving recklessly, ushering customers along at double the pace so his thoughts can return to you; if it’s why his palms sweat and nerves ache at the memory of your face that night, that morning… then Jake Lockley is desperate.

It’s hardly been a day and a half since he left your apartment, cold and injured. The suit stitched him back together in seconds; the only ache that remained was at the thought of you. You, who scooped him off the pavement and took pity on him. Who stained your hands with his blood to make it stop. You, who set his skin on fire with the smallest touch and had him convinced he would burn with or without it.

Screw the three day rule. He has to see you.

Hot under the collar, Jake now sits at the bar– your bar, long before normal business hours. Next to him is Matt, whose face hasn’t untwisted from the wry grin he’s had from the moment they met up.

“It’s like a jackhammer,” he chuckles into his glass, dodging Jake’s backhand swing.

“Can it, Murdock.” Jake’s hand returns to his own drink. Downing the rest, he raises his glass to the bartender. “Top me off, Mr. Manalo.”

Teddy obliges with shaking hands. He scoops up the bills Jake slides his way before dashing off. The two men had asked for privacy, and he’s determined to stay in their good graces.

Jake knocks back the new drink, swiping the excess from his lip as Matt’s laughter grows louder.

“You really need to calm down.”

“That’s what this was for,” Jake retorts, shaking his glass so the ice clinks against the edge. It’s doing him little good, though; from the moment he snuck in here that stormy night, he knew The Paper Moon as an extension of you. Even with the house lights up and nobody onstage, the lounge makes his heart race as quickly as if you were right beside him.

Matt claps a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be alright, you’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah,” Jake snorts. Matt’s quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “What’s on your mind, Murdock?”

“What’s on yours?” Telltale concern creeps into his voice. “How are things up there lately?”

Jake smirks, the expression not reaching his eyes. “Oh, you know. Loud… and quiet, in all the wrong ways.”

“Seems quieter than before.”

“Yeah?” Jake cocks an eyebrow. His mind doesn’t feel quieter, not the way it should. Khonshu’s been on his ass more often, doubling down when his thoughts dare to drift to anything besides the mission at hand. The god throwing a tantrum has become one of the few guarantees that remain.

“I mean it,” Matt reassures him. “It’s like night and day from when you returned stateside.”

Jake stirs the ice in his glass, tempted to hop the counter and refill it himself. It takes everything in him to repress the memory of “before,” to not think of the bloody business in El-Alamein. To forget when the occupancy of his mind dropped from three to two.

“Must be the good old American soil.” His sneer drops as he considers his next words. “... or the fool of a pro bono lawyer I managed to snag.”

“Maybe,” Matt says. “Or it could be the little bird that's caught your ear.”

Before Jake can respond, a pair of footsteps cross onto the stage behind them.

He turns to see you and Mauricio, backs to the house, talking in rushed succession as you survey the stage. You’re in a blouse and trousers, your movements easy and unrehearsed despite the growing exasperation in your voice.

“Maurie, I don't care how Leo feels the lights bounces off his new mustache wax, unless he can't follow my cues he's staying stage left. And–”

“No days off for you, are there?”

When you turn you see Jake, hat in hand and standing a few steps from the bar, as if he’d walked toward you but stopped halfway up the aisle. You can’t place the look on his face, but you're nevertheless pinned under the gaze of his now-healed eyes shining up at you.

“JAKE!” Mauricio startles you when he shouts, leaping off the stage to clasp hands with the older man.

“Hermano,” Jake chuckles, pulling him into a quick hug before letting go. “¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?”

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" Mauricio leans in, examining the pale line running through Jake’s eyebrow with awe.

“Ah, just a scratch.” Jake shrugs as he brushes past him to approach the stage and offers his hand as you step down. You accept, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grasp.

“Leave the man alone, Maurie,” you chide, nodding your thanks and holding back a laugh. As much as Caroline fawns over you, Mauricio seems to do the same to Jake whenever their paths cross. It helps that he plays along.

As the three of you walk back to the bar, you notice Matt dial in to something and smile– far from his normal reaction.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than another drink, I have an appointment with Matthew this afternoon.” You cross over to your friend, whose smile only grows as you draw closer. But you brush it off, still focused on Jake.

“Actually,” he starts, his hand sliding into his pocket, “I was hoping to cut in on your consult time for a moment. That alright with you, doll?”

Matt clears his throat. “Mauricio, can you take me backstage? I should start unpacking this file.”

The drummer perks up. “Sure! But the band’s getting ready to play some poker… you feel like teaming up again? We can split the pot like usual.”

“Even better,” Matt grins. “Lead on.”

He gathers his portfolio and walking stick to follow. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you could see a moment of panic flicker across Jake’s face.

It’s replaced in a flash with his usual smirk. “Sure you want to risk your pocket change, Matty?”

“If all my clients paid like you do, I'd be out of a job.” He collects himself and follows Mauricio’s footsteps, turning to Jake and mouthing “jackhammer” with a hand to his chest when he’s behind you.

Their footfalls fade and it’s just the two of you at the bar. You take a seat, drumming your fingers on the surface to soothe your nerves. Jake sits beside you.

“You look better.” You notice the scar Maurie was talking about: his former head wound is free of your haphazard stitches, instead healed into a light dash through his dark brow. “But I told you that would scar.”

He shakes his head, brushing his fingers past the spot. “I kinda like it. Gives me an edge,” he chuckles. Maybe Khonshu hadn’t healed his face the way he normally would as some sort of lesson. Joke’s on him.

“How did… I mean, you look really good, how did you recover so quickly?” Now that you’re closer, you realize there’s no sign he was hurt just two days ago. If not for his scar, you could pass that night off as some sort of dream.

“You told me to see a doctor, didn’t you? Looks like I’ve got the best one around.”

You eye him, not sure what to think. “... yeah, alright.”

Your fingers drum the bar again. Maybe that night knocked all of Jake’s suave confidence from his head: when he’s not speaking (something you’re still not used to), he looks like a child about to lose his lunch. For all his urgency a few minutes ago, he’s taking his sweet time getting to the point.

Finally he sits up straight and takes something out of his pocket. “Here. For you, morena.”

A small black box slides toward you, stopping at your restless fingers. You raise an eyebrow quizzically, a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“A present? Didn’t take you for the ‘holly-jolly’ type.” You pick up the box, feeling its velvet casing and fighting back a smile.

“Nah, not really a Christmas guy myself. But I figured you could use a pick-me-up.” Jake crosses one arm along the bar, propping his chin in his other hand as he watches you open the box.

Inside, you see a delicate gold chain with a charm fastened to its middle: a small bird with its wings spread, intricate designs etched into its surface.

“Oh my…” You look back at Jake, who seems to have been holding his breath as you examine your gift.

Your slowly unfolding smile is all the reward he could ask for, breathless laughter pushed from his chest with relief. “For the songbird,” he casually declares, relief mixing with pride at your reaction.

You take the necklace out and hold it to the light. “It’s beautiful,” you sigh. You undo the clasp and try to put it on yourself, but your fingers can’t seem to make it fasten.

“Allow me,” he says quickly, standing to move behind you and assist.

You feel his hands take over and drop your own in your lap. His knuckles brush the back of your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. The smell of smoke and spice dances on your senses, pulled away all too soon when he moves to stand in front of you.

“There,” he breathes, eyes going from the pendant draped below your collar to your eyes. “Looks perfect.”

Your fingers grasp the cool metal as you nod. “Looks perfect.”

Silence falls again. You’ve come to hate the sound of nothing when you’re with him.

Jake’s the first to break it. He sits back down, his next words like a punch to the gut. “You know, now that I’m not driving Wesley around… I won’t have to take up space at your back table anymore.”

“Oh. No, I suppose not.” You toy with the charm around your neck. “So is this… goodbye?”

“That depends,” he says cautiously. He turns to you, eyes swimming with the same unfamiliar mix of emotions from before. “Do you want it to be?”

Your fingers leave your neck as you meet his gaze. “Don't say you're going all soft on me, cabbie.”

“What if I was?” He leans forward, and for the first time you don't back away.

“Cards on the table: I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

That makes two of us. You bite your tongue to let him continue.

“Morena… would you ever want to get out of here? Just you and me, call it a truce or a… a date.” A smile plays on his lips before his brow creases. “I won't badger you after today, just… one way or another, put me out of my misery.”

The wings of the charm feel heavier with the weight of his confession. Hand to your heart, you feel the bird again, this time with Leah's warning running through your mind.

“I suppose a truce wouldn't hurt.”

When he smiles, wider than ever, you see the charming gap in his teeth. And you smile, too. You both laugh, the heated stress in your nerves turning to effervescent relief.

You could spend an hour like this. But when you hear shouts of frustration and a bilingual litany of choice words echo from backstage, you know you have to go put out a different fire.

“I should make sure Matthew isn't in trouble,” you sigh, standing to straighten yourself.

“If I know Matt, he's the one causing the trouble.” Jake stands with you, desperate for this moment not to end but anxious for your next answer. “So when can we–”

“Sunday night,” you cut him off, starting to back away toward the stage. “I'll figure out how to slip away, but meet me under the sign at 9.”

You move to rush toward the stage at another outburst, but Jake's hand catches yours yet again.

“You can't keep doing that,” you groan, yet with a smile still on your lips as he tugs you back toward him.

“You're the boss,” he hums, pressing his lips to the back of your hand– the gesture all too routine, but you're ready to admit you've missed it.

He releases your hand and dons his cap, tipping it to you. You laugh again, a rich and easy sound he'd never tire of hearing. You bow slightly and dash backstage, with Jake's voice calling to you as you leave.

“See you Sunday, Songbird."

__________

“¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” - Not getting yourself into any problems, eh?

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" - Seems like you’re the one causing troubles, hey cabbie? Where did that scar come from?

note: in-universe Jake is Guatemalan and Mauricio is Cuban; as a non-spanish speaker, please let me know how i can improve in the future!

A/N: i've missed these two!! this chapter was a doozy but i'm so happy to have gotten back on track. i won't say PPP is on hiatus (we never had a promised release schedule) but after i take a wee break from writing, i'm set on finishing my Moon Knight Bingo prompts before 4/30 + starting on my OI fanzine entries (!!! exciting times). but if inspiration strikes before i finish, i certainly won't complain.

ty for reading!!

tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mercurysjoy, @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #noir!jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x woc!reader #jake lockley x poc!reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley/woc! reader #jake lockley/poc!reader #matt murdock

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yxkushi · 7 months ago

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GUIDELINES.

I no longer wish to get involved with the drama from 2019, including but not limited to the callout released on former friends and myself, and the group who made said callout. I genuinely want to move on from that whole situation, so if you try to bring it back you will be blocked, or just block me first if you don’t want to interact with me based on the drama.

Any muses that are from foreign media (re: most of them) will be based more off the localized/English versions of them. Some muses may have things incorporated from the original version, but that depends on what I think of the character.

Unless absolutely necessary for some muses, I will not godmod with your muse. And as common courtesy, I expect my partner to do the same in return. If your character is an asshole to mine, then don’t expect them to just be a doormat in return.

ANONYMOUS HATE/DRAMA IS NOT TOLERATED AND YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. I would like to stay as drama-free as possible, so do not bring me into your personal drama for any reason-you will be blocked for that as well.

Despite everything, I am generally a mild, kind person. However, if you take this as initiative to walk all over me, I will fight back in return.

I have no problem with duplicates; heck, I even enjoy having duplicate muses interact.

While I don’t enforce reblog karma, it is common courtesy to send in an inbox meme if you reblog one of those posts from me.

Do not interact with me if you follow “callout culture”. I don’t care who you are, or what someone else has done/what you perceive they have done, it’s straight up bullying. You endorse a movement that has literally almost ended lives before, even if you think you’re in the right. Just because you think you’re anonymous and impervious on the internet doesn’t mean your actions don’t have a real impact on the person behind the screen. Attempting to get me involved in callout culture will result in an instant hardblock.

There will most likely be “problematic” ships on this blog, due to the character of my muses and their source media. All I will do is tag these ships (when I do have tags for them), but as I said before, sending me or my ship partner hate for doing those ships will result in a block. Do not interact with me if you are an anti-shipper. “Anti-shipper/anti” meaning that you harass people for what they ship.

Due to personal experiences. I may be less inclined to discuss or do certain ships, so if you’re uncertain, please feel free to ask me about it.

Generally, I’m pretty ship-friendly and tend to ship just about everyone and everything. I will tag certain kinds of ships that involve risky content (like incest or noncon); however, it is up to you to make sure you don’t see that kind of content on your dash if you don’t like it/it triggers you.

I am very much open to multishipping or doubles shipping, but please don’t expect a ship to happen immediately after our muses meet.

I am a very, very slow writer sometimes, thanks to my own mental baggage clashing with my writing muse. Thus, how quickly I respond to threads or asks will vary, but you’re welcome to remind me if you want me to continue a thread. Please don’t be too demanding about it, though.

You don’t have to match my length/writing style or use icons when we write together. Admittedly, some threads with certain muses might be iconless on my end due to lack of art or images.

Please, please trim your posts/threads. It’s common courtesy for people who don’t want to see posts that are just lines upon lines, and if you are unable to do it, then I will cut our threads for you.

18+ material will be very rare on this blog, and on here in general. I almost exclusively write it on Discord these days, and only with people I trust and have gotten consent to write it with. I WILL ONLY GIVE OUT MY DISCORD TO CLOSE FRIENDS, OR IF I TRUST YOU ENOUGH.

I am open to writing darker themes, including (but not limited to) torture, violence and abuse, and rape-anything will be tagged accordingly. If you still want to follow me regardless, then don’t come complaining to me when it occurs.

Please tag any content regarding or having mentions of vomiting/emetophilia, animal death, and genital torture/mutilation, seeing as those are major squicks of mine. In return, you can come up to me to ask me to tag anything that squicks/triggers you.

penname: io age: 24 timezone: EST (UTC−04:00/05:00)

#[ OF COSMOS. ; ooc ]

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bruciemilf · 2 years ago

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Bruce's relationship with his male Rogues vs his female Rogues is. So interesting to me.

Because you have his Rogues like the Joker, who he has actual conflicts with—Bane, Scarecrow, Penguin, Two-Face, Black Mask. All the men have honest beef with him. Death traps, elaborate evil schemes, bombs (oh my God the BOMBS), murder attempts.

But the women? They're friends with him. All his female Rogues see him as an awkward annoyance at worst (Ivy), and boyfriend material at best (Selina). Harley's square in the middle as "weird little brother." They toe the line of chaotic and lean so dangerously close to vigilante so often that Bruce just. Lets them be. Gives perfunctory attempts to catch them, but most times it ends with them just talking.

I'm 95% sure they know he's Bruce Wayne but don't say anything out of courtesy.

Batman strikes fear in the hearts of men and only men, and I think that's honestly iconic of him

GOD YESSSSSS LIKE - It'd be redundant to add something to this; Like painting over Mona Lisa but I'll do my best because this is actually one of my favourite topics.

I feel like I could word this a lot better, but I just feel like men dehumanise eachother to a concerning amount. Not Bruce, - if anything, he's on some saint shit by trying to rehabilitate these guys. But it's more of a " I can fix him" dynamic that you just won't see with the sirens

It's like - I don't have evidence of this, it's more of a " call it like I see it" headcanon, but Bruce? Most definetly was bullied by guys before.

I can't really go into details, but Bruce has " guy who could hang with the girls and girls only in high school" energy.

It's kinda telling that he has a relatively positive relationship with women and inspires a sense of safety with them that I've seen no other male hero achieve, but he ALWAYS has beef with men. Truly an awkward women's ally icon

More so? I can honestly see Bruce and the sirens as that non-toxic middle aged friend group that went through hell and back together and their paths always merge into eachother

Like? Give me Bruce trying to stop them from a heist. He's tired and Selina can see it, eyes sharp, designed to see detail. " Wait. Have you been crying?"

Harley drops her hammer with a gasp. " Oh my God, have you?"

Bruce's arms drop limp at his side and he takes a very deep breath. " I fought with Harvey last night and he brought up my parents. "

" No."

" He didn't."

" Are you kidding me? Oh, he's SUCH an asshole," Pamela somehow always has a wine bottle ready and Selina's in charge to bring the glasses, because at least one of them will need to rant about male rogues. " Tell us everything, hon."

" It's just, - GOD, is it too much to ask? One thing, - one goddam thing I ask of him in two decades, don't bring up my dead parents when I punch you in the face! But no. "

" Let's key his car."

" I'm going to his parent's grave to steal their jewlery and I'll wear them next time we fight. "

" Oh my God, could you imagine what face he'd make?"

" Which one?"

#bruce wayne #batman #dc #dc comics #harley quinn #poison ivy #pamela isley #selina kyle #catwoman #gotham sirens #text #bruce for the guy who protects drunk girls at college parties and walks his female co workers/employees home and gives them cool weapons

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relatetonothing · 2 years ago

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[mdzs] In depth analysis of Lan Xichen’s name

It’s been 2.5 years since my last MDZS name analysis(!!), and since then I’ve gotten so many requests from the fandom wanting to see more. So here’s to everyone who have enjoyed reading my posts so far - today I’ll be diving into Lan Xichen’s name. Sit back as this is an interesting one!

Lan Xichen is his zi ,or courtesy name, which means ‘chancellor of the morning sunlight’ (Xi 曦 - morning sunlight; Chen 臣- chancellor, minister).

It derives from the poem ‘Xian Qing Fu’ 《��情赋》 (Ode to a Quiet Life) by Eastern Jin dynasty recluse poet Tao Yuan Ming 陶渊明. Tao is remembered for his appreciation of beauty and serenity of the natural world around him, often admiring the good of others and documenting his wishes for a peaceful and fair society. (NB: The majority of Chinese people would know of the phrase ‘世外桃源’ - Xanadu / fantastical place of great idyllic magnificence and beauty, which originated from him.) This particular poem is a long study on the beauty and virtues of an idealised woman, and is known today as one of the most iconic bodies of work celebrating a woman’s true inner qualities. “悲晨曦之易夕，感人生之长勤” (bēi chén xī zhī yì xī, gǎn rén shēng zhī cháng qín), translates figuratively to ‘it is regrettable that the light of this morning will soon be replaced by the dark night, reminding people that life is filled with endless fatigue.’

One can’t help but draw parallels to Xichen’s life - he was always a noble figure, approached people with sincerity, treated everyone with an equal level of respect and believed deeply in those he stayed close to. But life could not always pay back what he gave to others, as he learnt of his trusted friend Jin Guangyao’s corrupt ways and betrayal - the light that was replaced by darkness.

I find it fascinating how poet Tao’s perspective of the world is so similar to Xichen’s. Tao is known for spending much of his life in reclusion, living in the countryside, receiving only a few guests he had a strong bond with, reading and indulging in his love for poetry. As a talented and knowledgeable man, he spent a decade of his life as a politician - but soon lost faith in a system that was characterised by nepotism, violence, corruption and civil disorder. Torn between ambition and the desire to retreat into solitude, he chose the latter. I wonder if MXTX drew inspiration from this, as Xichen also began as a leader in the cultivators’ world, is a huge lover and collector of literature, and after all the turmoil also decided to withdraw into reclusion.

Xichen’s birth name is 涣 (Huàn), which has two main meanings: 1) ‘melting of snow’; 2) ‘water dispersing in all directions’. His title is 泽芜君 (zé wú jūn), which literally means ‘nourisher of barren lands’ (泽润 - to nourish, bestow; 平芜 - land overgrown with weeds). Combining the two, we can understand his name to mean ‘water disperses in all directions, nourishing everything it touches’. 泽 in Chinese is used specifically to describe bestowing something deep, long-lasting and meaningful (as supposed a one time gift/favour - which would be 惠). In the book, MXTX also describes him as “清煦温雅，款款温柔” (meaning ‘warm, gracious and elegant, gentle in all aspects’). Clearly, his name highlights the grace and kindness he radiates and bestows on everyone around him. He is the keeper of peace and righteousness.

Bonus:

Note that the word Huan 涣 has a water particle, similar to his brother Lan Wangji’s birth name Zhan 湛 - it brings to mind the ‘Twin Jades of Lan’ title for the brothers, with a water element - like Pisces.

Interestingly, in ‘I Ching’ or ‘Book of Changes’, the ancient Chinese divination text which contains of 64 hexagrams, there is a 涣 hexagram:

Again, it represents how gentleness can summon greatness. I copy the below from iching-online.com:

In simple terms, it symbolises water that washes away dirt and baptises new life within oneself. And the aftermath is precisely Zhan 湛 in his brother’s name, meaning crystal clear water.

Other name analyses:

Wei Wuxian

Lan Wangji

Jiang Wanyin

Lan Sizhui

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jackoshadows · 2 years ago

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Rafe’s Q&A on twitter

And on here courtesy of u/crowz9:

Q: Will we see more than one of these cities in season 2? Cairhien, Tear, Falme

A: Yes

Q: I have to ask. Gawyn (and I guess the lesser brother Galad) actually beat Mat in the warder training yard in the show right? Theres no way they lose on screen is there?

A: This is an iconic scene from the book and we are building to a believable version of it in the show. Hopefully. Ha.

Q: I have a cheat question about season 1. What was the biggest change in episode 8 that was brought by COVID restrictions compared to what you had originally planned?

A: The thing I like the least was we originally had Egwene using the Wisdom skills she’d learned in the pilot from Nynaeve to help her after the channeling in Fal Dara. But last minute Covid changes on the day didn’t allow for the same amount of touching so it got switched and I (melting face emoji)

Q: How much has the making of process changed in between seasons especially with how the pandemic affected season 1?

A: It’s certainly affected us in ways both huge and small, but by the end of Season Two it had become so second nature that MULTIPLE TIMES I poured a coffee into my mask and was confused why it didn’t go into my mouth

Q: What’s your favourite scene with Donal Finn, and why is it him blowing the horn?

A: #LetDonalToot is now the rallying cry of a generation

Q: Which books make it into season 2?

A: Pieces of 1,2 and 3.

Q: Blink twice if we see more than one Forsaken!

A: (two relieved face emojis)

Q: How far into the books will this season take us, know the EF5 are much more split up than EotW

A: We are trying to get a fair amount of what’s done in Books 1-3 (large parts still being held for later) by the end of S2 so that S3 can be a much closer adaptation of TSR

Q: In comparison to season one, how much queer rep is there going to be?

A: It depends on how many great memes you churn out.

Q: When will Rand’s luscious curly locks return?

A: Ask @joshastradowsk1 He should be growing them now :)

Q: Maybe you can open with an explanation of why you had the entire seanchan ever victorious navy unleash everything they had on a poor little girl on the beach, or how you had the forces of Fal Dara hard charging the BACK OF THEIR OWN DEFENSIVE FORTIFICATION.

A: That girl had it coming. So did the entire coastline and all its cities

Q: Is Liandrin’s friend a <ahem> North Harbor friend, a Darkfriend, or both?

A: I wouldn’t tell you even if you used a weave of compulsion

Q: Why did you guys decide not to make the dagger instant death like the books? How did Loial survive being stabbed by *the* dagger?

A: That’s a story best told in a stedding

Q: describe S2 using only alcoholic beverages please

A: Spiked Kaf

Q: Do the Seanchan still use the ball gags on the Damane?

A: I’ve never seen a ball gag on a damane

Q: Pretty sure I saw Uno in the behind the scenes - interested in how that is possible after last season...

A: He’s breathing. Watch close

Q: Can you tell us how much you will be expanding on the forsaken in this season?

A: It’s a big point of difference from the books in S2. We will spend more time with any Forsaken who’s in the show, more how the later books treat the Forsaken than necessarily Books 2 or 3 did

Q: Hopper?

A: THANK YOU. WHY IS NO ONE EVER GIVING HOPPER THE RESPECT HE DESERVES. OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: HOPPER IS IN S2

Q: favorite Season 2 two person scene with only the character names and no more

A: Egwene Renna

Q: Since most of the main characters split up geographically at the beginning to tGH, will the next seasons keep them on parallel timelines for a convergence at Falme? In which case, the Portal Stones left a time gap of ~4 months for Rand's group; easier to do on a page or on film?

A: Time gaps are very difficult moving to the medium of television with the stories intercutting, but we try to do as much as we can to avoid one hour cross continent dragon flights

Q: favourite type of gin, and also, can you drop a hint about something you're looking forward to us seeing in season 2?

A: Your pic makes me excited about where Liandrin’s character goes in S2. We are so so lucky to have the amazing @katefleetwood in the show and you will love, hate, and love to hate her LiLi

Q: Any hints on Moiraine’s journey in season 2? A: It’s much expanded from her Book 2 story. But built out of the core of that and of a couple relationships that were not explored in the books

Q: Did everything happen as planned this season or did you guys have to change anything (as in the last 2 eps of season 1)? A: There were unforeseen changes as we shot S2 immediately after wrap of 107 and 108. But that’s making television. Anyone who tells you there weren’t unforeseen changes on their show is lying

Q: Are you sticking with the fun cold opens? A: Yep! It’s our ode to the out of POV chapters in the books and we will always have them

Q: What new character/actor are you most excited to introduce us to? A: There are so many — Aviendha, Elayne, others that have been both announced but not announced, and of course Bayle Domon

Q: Does Mat get to wander the Tower practice yard, and do we learn of Jearom? A: Get your Origins on!!!

Q: Will we get “Do you like to dance, Perrin Aybara”? A: Yes.

Q: Can you tell us what role Xelia Mendes-Jones will play please A: Xelia is playing the role of knocking their scenes out of the fucking park every time they stepped on set.

Q: Which new cast member gave you the best “Yep! THAT’S _(insert character name)_!” moment in season 2 filming? A: I think this moment will be in the first or second trailer of season 2. It lives rent free in my mind at all times

Q: How many episodes will@Season 2 be? If only 8 again, will they be longer? A: They are longer than first season, but yes, still only 8

Q: Are the Wheel of Times Origins cannon to the tv show or just a pretty (amazing) side piece where the stories of origins aren’t the mythology used in the show? A: Canon

Q: which character had his plot changed the most compared to the books? A: Mat. But we try to bring the characters back to where they should be by the end of S2.

Q: What is the journey like for Moiraine and Lan in season 2 with their bond still masked A: Another big departure point for us from the books is making much more story for Moiraine and Lan. We aren’t sitting these two amazing actors on the bench for a season, so we take what’s in Book 2 for them and expand it in a huge way. That’s all I can say.

Q: please tell us gawyn won’t be likable please please please you can’t do this to me A: I love every character I write. I think you have to find a way to

Q: Will weaves appear the same in the coming season(s)? Congrats on S3 btw! A: They’re getting a bit of a revamp for S2. Threads and colors and bears oh my. But no bears.

Q: First off, G&T is divine. Second, I want to know if you get more chances to expand the dialog more to let us see the characters better? A: We are always trying to. Lots of one on one scenes that didn’t get shot or didn’t make the cuts. But I’m always fighting for them, I think that’s where the characters really live or die, and our actors can always deliver when it’s just 2 people in a room talking

Q: What was the scene you dreamed of bringing alive the most and have you filmed it yet? A: That scene is in the final episode of the show

Q: Is the Darkfriend Social gonna be in the show? A: Yep

Q: Does Rand get his Red and Gold outfit this season? I can’t wait to see Josha officially in it A: (smiling face with open hands emoji)

#The Wheel of Time #Wheel of Time #WOTonPrime #Rafe Judkins #season 2 #Q&A

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theolsentimes · 3 years ago

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Mary-Kate Olsen's Singular Style

She came to fame as a twin, but the actress's cultish look is entirely her own. Here, with Lauren Hutton, she pays homage to another fashion inspiration, Grey Gardens. Written by Laura Brown, with photography by Peter Lindbergh (Harper's Bazaar, 2007)

VIEW GALLERY

Mary-Kate Olsen may be the only young actress who breezes into her local Starbucks wearing towering, fashion-fierce Balenciaga boots, who arrives at her latest premiere (in Mary-Kate's case, for the new season of Showtime's Weeds, in which she plays a devout Christian with a pot fetish) sporting an oversize cross, and whose favorite band is Led Zeppelin. She may, in fact, be the only young actress who knows who Led Zeppelin is. MK, as she is known to her friends and family, is also a punctual and professional sort. She arrives for a poolside tea in Los Angeles 10 minutes early, ordering a hot chocolate while explaining her fetish for all things sweet — "I'm a candy girl, like Tootsie Rolls and Swedish Fish" — and objecting when the waiter tries to take the sugar bowl away. She is wearing a nautical striped T-shirt (her mom's, from the '70s), tucked into two black Wolford slips rolled down and turned into a tight, Robert-Palmer-video-style mini, and multicolored sparkly Christian Louboutin stilettos. She's just had her hair colored, returning to a sunnier shade after some experiments with both peroxide ("I woke up one morning and was like, I want white-trash hair today") and the dark side (an auburn-haired near-Goth moment last year). She's carrying a large black fringed leather Prada tote — she doesn't do small bags — and her fingers are covered with rings, most notably two vintage coiled gold snakes stacked on top of each other. ("They remind me of twins, sort of double headed.") Altogether, the effect is less her famed "bag-lady chic" than an edgy, body-conscious, and, yes, sexy silhouette. If she weren't 21, she could be 40. And French.

Few people need reminding that Mary-Kate — with her twin sister, Ashley — literally crawled into celebrity aged nine months (courtesy of Full House) and has not been out of the spotlight ever since. She has been a celebrity for more than two decades. Perhaps that's one reason she seems as if she came out of the womb worldly, the textbook old soul. "Yeah," she says with a small shrug. "I get that a lot." With all of that attention and all of the money (her and Ashley's company, Dualstar, has famously become a "billion-dollar business"), Mary-Kate could easily have ended up the type who wears pink terry cloth and carries a variety of small dogs. "Could you imagine?" she says with the politest version of a snort. "No way." She credits her exceptionally close-knit family (she has five siblings) and, interestingly, early stardom with helping her keep her perspective. "I think it helped that I started in front of the camera, so it didn't come as a shock. If I was a teenager and was thrown into the spotlight, I don't know how I would react, to be honest." Though the tabloids are all too keen to brand her a skinny, nervous deer in the headlights, in person Mary-Kate is easy in her skin, confident and surprisingly tactile, curling up in her seat and touching you on the arm to make a point. She laments the generic style of most actresses and cites only men as style inspirations: "Heath Ledger, Johnny Depp. Men, they just dress the way they want, and they don't think about Who Wore It Best." She doesn't much care for Who Wore It Best, noting she avoids those pages by "wearing vintage so often. I just dress the way I feel instead of looking for what's the new handbag." If Mary-Kate and Ashley have their way, more people will be wearing clothes and carrying bags the way they do. They have just shown the fifth collection of their ready-to-wear line, the Row, and recently launched a contemporary label, Elizabeth and James, named after a sister and a brother. The Row's holiday collection (in stores next month) is a slick mix of skinny leather pants, razor-cut blazers, butter-soft, slouchy tees, and a destined-to-be-cultish pullover fur. Lauren Hutton, who stars in the Row's Spring '08 look book, says, "The clothes are extraordinary. A man I was with just loved them. The pieces are just so genius, soft like a baby's skin. Simple minimalist stuff, but really spectacular." Mary-Kate, designer, faces an interesting challenge. She has to marry Dualstar — which has made its fortune selling tween-tastic DVDs and pastel Mary-Kate and Ashley T-shirts at Wal-Mart — with her increasingly edgy and subversive taste. Dualstar executives, some of whom have worked with her since she was a child, often nag her, mom-style, about pulling her hair back "or wearing a color," she says with a laugh. "I had this event recently, and I was like, They're going to be so happy that I'm wearing ... purple. I actually have to think about those things, though, you know, so I don't get trashed." Get trashed sometimes she does. Hutton says, "Once in a while, she'll wear something and I'll think, Oh, baby doll, take another look. But to have the bravery, to take the chance to do that, is pretty wonderful. She is making her own way, which is hardly ever done in Hollywood." Of Mary-Kate's penchant for gigantic Balenciaga heels, Jenji Kohan, the creator of Weeds, says, laughing, "I'd be like, 'It's Tuesday. Do you really want to be wearing those shoes?' But she pulls it off." Designer Giambattista Valli, a friend, says, "She likes to take risks, but because she has such strong personal style, she always manages to make it work. Even if she had nothing on, she'd have style." And MK chic is spreading. "Sometimes I'll look at people or at a magazine and I'll do a double take because I'm like, Oh, my God, that's my outfit, but that's not me," Mary-Kate says. Playing with her wire-rimmed aviators, she jokes wryly that she should have bought shares in Ray-Ban. (She and Chloë Sevigny pretty much brought back white '80s Wayfarers.) She tends to fall in love with a look, then wear it until she's done. "If I put together a good outfit, I'll wear it for three days and then switch it up with a blazer," she says. "I still love my vintage jeans, my tights, and my pants, though." She didn't start wearing heels, in fact, until a couple of years ago: "I kept watching Ashley walk around in them so gracefully, and I'm such a klutz. But I ended up loving heels, and I don't usually take them off." She wears precisely one pair of flat shoes: Chanel's knee-high patent-leather gladiator sandals. This season, it's Balenciaga's fall collection — all of it — that has Mary-Kate obsessed. She is close to designer Nicolas Ghesquière and says, "He is so talented, but he's the nicest, most down-to-earth guy, and that makes everything he does more brilliant. I bought everything, but I haven't got anything yet," she says like a girl impatiently waiting for Christmas. Will she wear the new pieces with her infamous clodhopper boots? "Uh-huh. Wore them the other day, actually." Mary-Kate always goes with her gut, even if some people (back to those tabloids) don't quite get it. "The tabloids say things about me? What do they say?" she asks archly. "People are going to write what they want, and everyone's going to have their own idea of who I am. But I'm not trying to be friends with the people who are reading them, really." After a rough couple of years filled with near-forensic scrutiny of her weight, she'll have you know that she does eat. "This is not going to sound good," she laughs, "but I like making crispy tofu sticks with peanut sauce. I love my sashimi and my salmon and my vegetables." She observes, "Stress plays a big role in how I look day-to-day. I've always been very active — Pilates, yoga. I grew up horseback riding every day for hours. I love dancing. I usually last longer than anyone on the dance floor." A common image of Mary-Kate has her emerging from a coffee joint with an oversize cup. "I always get creamed for having my Starbucks cup," she says, sighing. "But the only time people get photos of me is when I'm getting coffee, when I can't sneak away from the camera." She also resents the pictorial implication that she and Ashley are dilettantes. "They take photos of us going into our offices, and it's 'Mary-Kate and Ashley shopping again.' But I'm going to work for eight hours, and we're working so hard. ..." She trails off. "It just shows how people want to think of you." Mary-Kate is not above celeb watching herself, however. Newly obsessed with Victoria Beckham, she notes she avidly watched Beckham's Coming to America documentary: "She's running around in a bikini and heels, and I'm like, Oh, my God! I do that, too!" How positively Grey Gardens. "I run around my house naked with heels all the time. It's so funny. All my friends will tell you I love running around in kimonos and jewelry or naked with jewelry." More people will be watching Mary-Kate soon, thanks to her role in the Emmy-nominated Weeds. "I am a very good Christian girl," she says with a wink. "She has her moral beliefs — and she happens to smoke pot." Of her newest cast member, Kohan adds, "Mary-Kate is complicated. She's a big celebrity, a huge media icon, but you have to separate the media images from someone who has the same issues, the same desires, as anyone else." Of course, Mary-Kate's image, in all its incarnations — from high fashion to small screen — is her strongest asset. And she has yet to settle on one. "I feel like I've lived 10 different lives already and I'm only 21," she says, almost as a reminder to herself. "But I also feel like I'm entering a new chapter." One thing on which she is clear, though: She doesn't need to be looked at all the time. What would she do for a day if she were invisible? "I would probably go to a restaurant with my friends, who would be able to see me, of course," she adds pragmatically, "and I would sit outside and enjoy a nice lunch with them. Then I would walk down the street." The old soul takes a sip of her little-girl-sweet hot chocolate. "That's what I would do."

#Mary Kate Olsen #mary kate and ashley #Ashley Olsen #harper's bazaar #magazines #articles #photoshoot

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jeontaehui · 4 years ago

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TAEHEE WITH SUPERM

baekhyun baekhee

there was this tension at the start. you wouldn’t notice it at first glance but when you really pay attention to how the both of them act around each other ,,, you’ll just wonder how they are off-cam.

taehee mentioned during wgu era baekhyun was one of her role models when it came to the entertainment industry ,, so some fans wondered maybe there was still this senior-junior relationship between them while the rest were getting close with her.

but baekhyun hates awkward. luckily, they were roommates when they came to the states for their debut.

he figured he could get closer to taehee by making her laugh a lot, and he succeeded !!! it was easy since they basically shared the same humor.

he also took her out to eat when they came back to korea ,, discovered her love for playing video games and that they had a lot more in common

taehee enjoys playing hard to get when it comes to baekhyun.

(superm midterm exam ep. 1) “but you said i was your role model!!!” “when it came to being funny, yes...?” “W H A T !!!!”

as much as possible, baekhyun wants taehee to show off or be given attention to. whether that came to lines on the script or bragging about what she can do, not only does he do this as a leader but as someone who wants to show that taehee is as capable as them.

(200913 vlive) taehee comes up to the camera and nervously laughs, “yah, how do i do this?!” she turns around to face the rest of the boys who have challenged her into doing taemin’s killing part in the ‘criminal’ mv. “just do it like you would usually do!” baekhyun encourages cheerfully. “don’t act shy! you know you can do it.”

iconic moment (mtopia ep. 11-2) "whoever competes with baekhyun hyung is likely to lose,” kai says, watching as the eldest prep himself for the game. hearing this, taehee instantly shot up from her seat and moved to the red square opposite of baekhyun. though determined, she lets out a casual remark, “i’ll fight him,” and the others laugh.

ever since the first game of the night, baekhyun and taehee teased each other back and forth, trying to get the other off their game. the scoreboard between the two of them was currently 2:1, with taehee having won the paper cup game and the team game with mark and the others. baekhyun glances to the side nervously, until an idea pops in his head.

he lights up her candle shortly and hands it to her, “here.” taehee accepts the candle without protest as she sat down, until kai says, “he gave you the weaker candle.” her head snaps up to see baekhyun dead set on making his flame stronger than hers, his fierce expression making all of them crack up. “oppa!” taehee complains but she laughs. “yah, baekhyun hyung, that’s unfair!” taeyong backs the maknae up, well aware of the feeling of losing quickly to their leader. “jeon taehee, you better win this,” taeyong tells her, his tone was laced with seriousness yet his pout said otherwise. “avenge me,” and taehee gives him a salute and a wink in return.

not sooner than later, their match begins. their hot battle keeping the members on their toes, they too were aware of their rivalry from earlier. “jeon taehee, let’s go!” mark cheers. although taehee could barely see with the water getting in her eyes and hair, she moved her candle in all directions in defense to her opponent’s shooting (at this point, taehee figured baekhyun was just trying to shoot at her face but she’s not complaining... that much). with a sharp aim, taehee was able to distinguish baekhyun’s candle in just less than a minute.

“i think water went into my nose,” taehee giggles as she lowers her candle down, removing any excess water from her eyes once her other hand was free. meanwhile baekhyun looked shell-shocked, taemin and the others laughing more at the result. “hyung, you looked like you won!” kai teases him further. “i won,” baekhyun jokingly seethes, “I WON!”

taehee laughs, “알았어, loser.” the team breaks off into a louder fit while baekhyun smiles in disbelief. taehee sure was different.

song falling by trevor daniel

taemin 2tae

despite both of them being the most quiet during the first meeting, the both of them got closer the quickest !!!!

first day they were like ‘hi hello annyeong’. next day, they’re sharing recipes, having inside jokes, mini-handshake (courtesy of taehee), play-fighting, making funny faces at each other whenever they make eye contact during dance practices ....

dance prodigies !!! amazing, talented, remarkable dance prodigies !!! aces at everything !!!! their stage presence !!!!

(superm reveal which member has the best hair and who is the funniest of the group | billboard) “these two,” taeyong gestures to taehee and to taemin, “how do i say this? they look immoral on stage.” the others chuckle at his bluntness, “i think that would be the best term for it.”

taehee finds taemin very cute and would willingly watch his aegyo.

(’one’ dance practice behind) “hyung, you are honestly so cute,” taehee centers the camera to taemin, “times like these, i wish you were my younger brother.” he laughs.

meanwhile, taemin finds himself laughing at taehee’s antics most of the time (totally didn’t expect the chaotic energy coming from this one).

taehee always manages to find her place next to taemin somehow, and when taemin turns to find out she was beside him this whole time, he’d smile at her and pat the top of her head.

taemin became one of taehee’s comfort people !!!! from having a senior-junior relationship to being one of taehee’s most trusted friends, they grew really close after time and related well with each other.

iconic moment (’one’ dance practice behind) “woah, oppa you look really pretty from this angle,” taehee tilts the camera to the sides until taemin starts doing aegyo, causing laughter to bubble from the girl. “hey! hyung, why are you seriously so cute?”

taemin recalls the other day he and taehee hung out together, and he sits up straight before telling the story. “you know what taehee did the other day?” his lips break into a wide smile, his tone piquing interest from ten and mark. “what did she say?” mark said.

“she said, ‘hyung, it think it would be nice if you were my dongsaeng.’ and i haven’t said anything yet and she said, ‘yaja time? start. taeminnie, what do you want to do?’”

mark and ten burst out laughing, taehee feigns ignorance. “what? when was that? i don’t remember that.”

taemin chuckles, “taehee is really so precious.”

song it’s tricky by run d.m.c

kai kaihee

kai was a bit awkward with taehee too at first.

he was very cautious around her, even if it was just standing close to her during photoshoots.

kai, keeping his distance: “is this okay?”

director: “closer!!!!”

kai: fuck

but now he teases the hell out of her you’d probably mistake them for being friends for a long time.

(superm on knowing bros) “baekhyun hyung? baekhyun . hyung???? you seriously find him the most attractive out of all of us?????” “BEAUTY IS IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER!!!!!!” “YOU NEED TO GET YOUR EYES CHECKED THEN”

he makes fun of her accent (jokingly ofc) but also loves it.

“how do you say ‘귤’ in english?” “tangerine” “ahh you are so cute !!!!!!”

also teases her by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and proceeding to shake her aggressively.

before superm, kai already found taehee super cool .... he was probably intimidated by her.

when kai is not teasing taehee, they’re both teasing mark.

in the end, there is an i-will-tease-the-heck-out-of-you-until-your-ears-turn-red kai and a im-her-father-no-one-touch-her kai

iconic moment (mtopia ep. 11-1) “i feel like taehee would get this though,” baekhyun says and the others agree with him, taehee’s agile. they all watch as she puts her hands on each side of the toaster, preparing herself by biting on thin air. “okay, i’ll start now!”

using her left thumb, she pushed the press handle down and released. but instead of catching the piece of bread, she caught her tongue in between her teeth. she immediately pulled back and brought her hands to her mouth, walking away the pain as the members pointed out she wasn’t able to succeed. kai was the first to notice her, “what’s wrong, taehee?”

“i bit my tongue and it hurts so much,” she winces. kai cackles, “바보! taehee!”

“it was an accident!” she exclaims. “i know but you don’t put your tongue out like that!”

taehee grumbles at kai’s remark as she sat beside him. the latter pulls her close by the shoulder and ruffles her hair, laughing as she poked her cheek. “you want to eat bread?” kai smiles at her, already reaching out for the plate of extras.

“i’m gonna eat bread.”

song mambo no. 5 (a little bit of ....) by lou bega

taeyong yonghee

taehee’s all up for the ‘taeyong babie’ agenda since it’s so cute to see the older members tease and baby taeyong.

knowing that baekhyun likes to poke the fun out of these two, taeyong and taehee would team up against him.

(superm mtopia ep. 1) “taehee, let’s make baekhyun hyung out,” taeyong tells her, taehee mirroring the determined look on his face. “we got this.”

taeyong hypes taehee up like a stage dad or something lol he’d go like, “WOOOO!!! THAT’S MY BABY,” and taehee would find herself smiling before resuming to whatever she was doing.

taehee had to stop herself from clowning taeyong when they went surfing for mtopia and instead gave him tips and all. of course, she tries to bite her lip from laughing while doing so.

(mtopia ep. 3) taehee goes to sit beside a nervous taeyong on the dock as he waits for his turn. chuckling, she says, “hyung, just pace yourself, alright? don’t rush—“ but then kai cuts her off, also noticing the scared look on the rapper’s expression, “you won’t die anyways.” taehee whips her head back to glare at kai, though it was clear she was trying to hold in her laughs. “HEY!”

iconic moment (mtopia ep. 2) taehee was the first to pick out of the eight of them. whether she’ll start shedding tears or not, her fate relies on the fifth sushi she had chosen, hoping that it wasn’t the one with wasabi. “it’s the one. she lost it,” baekhyun says as he tries to throw taehee off guard. “it’s not,” she replies, though her eyes said otherwise.

once she grabs the piece of sushi in between her chopsticks, she takes a tentative glance towards the staff and keeps her eyes on them as she took it in whole. taehee knew she was doomed on the first chew, the spiciness of the paste burns her tongue and brings tears to her face. she laughs dryly as a few tears slipped down her face and sniffs, “i never knew wasabi was this spicy.” the boys behind her laugh at the crack in her voice, the staff handing her a tissue as she staggered back to her place beside taeyong who immediately wrapped his arms around her to comfort her. “taehee can’t handle spicy foods well,” taeyong chuckles, “are you okay?”

“yeah, my mouth just feels like it’s burning!,” taehee exclaims, her wild gestures adding humor to her expression. taeyong lets out a hearty laugh as he gave her water, “have this.” he watches her down the water in one go, though there were still tears in her eyes, “taehee, you are too cute. i’m serious.” taehee laughs as she wiped her eyes, and they continue with the game.

song train wreck by james arthur

ten tnt

they are literal geniuses !!!! but... they have their moments.

(200930 live) “he’s the main character in ‘aladdin’, right?,” and with knowing smiles, the others nod at ten’s question. clueless, ten decides to ask more, “what was his name? a whole new world~” and baekhyun and mark tell him he’s right, but ten has literally no clue. chuckling at his cuteness, taehee speaks up, “hyung! he’s the main character in ‘aladdin’! aladdin!” mark and kai laugh loudly at her hint, she was already giving him an answer. kai notices that, like ten, taehee hadn’t got her question correct yet with all the obvious hints they were giving her, and so he laughs harder. “taehee! don’t act like you’ve got you’re question correct!,” the said girl shrugs exaggeratedly, bringing her hands up in the air as if to question the heavens. “you told me he was powerful! so is he like a superhero or something? thor?,” she exclaims, and the others began laughing at her guess, the maknae unaware of the large ‘LEE SOOMAN’ on her cap. “who is it?!”

their banter that goes back and forth are one of the things that make the members’ stomachs hurt from laughing.

(superm: ready to fly in la) “the three maknaes are my babies,” ten tells the camera, tilting his head to look taehee into the eye before continuing, “but then you’d be my least favorite.”

taehee knows that ten secretly has her as the favorite loves her too, so she always makes it a point to call him cute or something to throw him off guard.

iconic moment (superm as we wish ep. 1) it was very obvious how taehee felt about ten’s drama. she tried to hold back her smiles but ten was just too cute, it made her heart run in circles. when his drama ended, the boys praised ten’s performance, but baekhyun noticed how much taehee liked it. he calls her out, “taehee-ssi, you seem to like this very much.”

a surprised ‘really?’ comes from ten while taehee spoke. “ten oppa just looked so.... natural while doing it,” taehee says, her words and expressions assuring ten he really did a great job. “my heart is doing flips right now?”

the boys laughed, “did you fall for him?” and before taehee got to answer their leader’s question, ten said, “i’ll date you based on your performance.”

“i didn’t even say yes!”

song positions by ariana grande

lucas luhee

lucas took one look at him, mark, and taehee and just went, “you know if someone took a look at us, they’d think taehee was the oldest.” (taehee had punched him on the shoulder while mark hit the table, laughing)

but then he clarified that it was just because taehee had this motherly aura around her and that she takes care of him and mark really well.

from then on, lucas would accidentally call taehee ‘noona’; sometimes, he would call her that intentionally when asking for the snacks that were kept in her bag, or teasing her.

(superm as we wish ep. 2) “unnie,” they hear taehee say from the monitor. while the boys accompanied each other in different work environments, taehee went alone to a little café to try out the experience herself. she found herself well acquainted with one of the staff members that had showed her around, and she found herself asking, “how old are you?” the boys erupted into choruses of ‘ooh’s’ when they heard her, baekhyun jokingly asking if she was there to find a date. taehee shakes her head shyly, but she busts out laughing when lucas shouts, “NOONA, FIGHTING!”

we see more of taehee being a baby with lucas in superm :(

he’d give her piggyback rides or ask her if she’s eaten yet, and if she says no, lucas would be like, “come on, man! the last time i saw you eat was breakfast but you only ate a sandwich. wait for me here, i’ll get you a plate.”

iconic moment (mtopia ep. 11-2) as mark and kai shoot each other’s candles out with their water guns, taehee leans into lucas’ side as she laughs with her head buried into his shoulder. it was an endearing sight to see them comparing hand sizes, both of their eyes widening at the size difference. “you’re hand is so small!,” lucas says. “well, duh. your hand is like the size of my face!”

song rather be by clean bandit (ft. jess glynne)

mark markhee

taehee knows so well that superm mark lee is a different breed

(the story of ‘jopping’) “you look so handsome these days,” taehee said to mark as she took in his appearance, causing the latter to become shy and flustered, “really?”

but mark caught onto it this year and ‘complained’ that taehee had favoritism .... to superm mark

“you’re cute in 127 and dream!!!! you’re different here, what’s wrong with that?”

taehee LOVED ‘talk about’. she posted a video of her jamming to it in her manager’s car on twitter.

in mtopia, taehee literally took a glance at mark’s quiz in the first episode and said, “ahh you should get this one the first try, it’s easy.” cue a pouty mark

during games, mark knows taehee in and out so it comes off as an advantage to him and a disadvantage to her.

(mtopia ep. 6) “it’s taehee. taehee is the liar.”

mark and taehee are roommates most of the time and their nightly routines just consist of putting face masks on each other and listening to music while waiting!

iconic moment (mtopia ep. 11-2) “sleepover!!!!,” taehee says excitedly as she sat on the bed with mark. she had just finished brushing her teeth while mark brought out facemasks from his bag. “you wanna put them on each other?,” mark asks, tearing one of the packets open already.

he turns his head to his right and giggles. taehee had her bangs tied up in a short ponytail, her eyebrows arched in a cheery smile. “you look like 뚱이!,” mark laughs, “dude, seriously. you’re so cute.”

“whatever, just put it on,” taehee rolls her eyes playfully as she hit mark’s shoulder. she closes her eyes but hears mark chuckle again. opening only her left eye, she says, “what’s wrong?”

“you’re really cute,” mark repeats, both of taehee’s eyes now wide open at his compliment. she goes to say something but chooses against it, closing her eyes back again when mark begins putting the mask on her face.

song until the last falling star by matthew perryman jones

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minachuuu · 4 years ago

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(G)-Idle Reaction to falling for a composer.

This one was maybe inspired by Maze. I thought of the concept one day when listening to the song, and it stuck with me. This one is pretty fluffy if I say so myself!

Miyeon

The first time she saw you sitting near the console in the studio she couldn’t take her eyes from you, but you were sitting there in silence, just taking notes and she had no idea who you were and why you were there. She went into the cabin to record her lines, not losing sight of you through the glass, but when you raised your eyes to meet hers and smiled, she fumbled and scrambled every single one of the words.

After another take and the red on her cheeks not easing, she went back to your side of the studio, and with every nerve on her body filled with courage, she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to you. Later that day, a text made her phone shake and she was surprised when she read:

Such an angelic voice fits perfectly with such a pretty girl. I’ll write more songs if that means I get to see you again. Btw, my name is Y/n, glad to meet you.

The oldest squeaked in bliss as she embraced her phone for dear life, to the surprise of all her youngest members.

It didn’t take long until you started dating, and with such a beautiful muse by your side, inspiration flows like a river through you, composing beautiful creations only for you to listen to Miyeon bring them to life with her beautiful voice.

Minnie

You were sitting in the studio, playing around with the synths and some lyrics. You wouldn’t say you have a perfect voice, but you could carry a melody enough to record your own demos. But you were so into your own thoughts that you failed to realize the only other presence in the room.

“I think that would sound better if you went a bit higher…”

Her voice made you spring in surprise, as Minnie grabbed the chair besides you, and pulled in closer. She sang the melody you were working on and that was the moment you knew you were hooked. And by the way she looked at you when you got lost in your creations, one could safely say it was mutual. You spend your days locked in the studio, looking like children in a candy store, playing with chords, melodies and everything in your disposal.

Yes, you were both very aware of your feelings, but Minnie took the first step when she arrived one day at the studio, a little folder paper with a confession written on it… in five different languages.

Of course you nervously said yes, and from that day on your life, your life is a thousand times more fun and full of light, courtesy of one of the most beautiful, talented and bright girls in the world.

Soojin

One night, it was very late and you found yourself roaming the empty, dark dance studio with your guitar, searching for something to help you with your mind block. Your prayers would be answered in the form of a beautiful girl opening the door.

You both shared the same problem, and with a glance you promised not to bother the other as you coexisted in the same room.

But when your eyes caught a glimpse of Soojin freestyling, your fingers instinctively struck the chords and rhythm in harmony with her body. She caught on pretty fast to whatever you were doing, letting passion flow like a language in between your two different but very complementary art forms. Let’s say you ended up exchanging a little more than phone numbers that night.

And now you two are now the best team to ever grace the company. Sometimes she runs to you, and shows you a new dance movement and you create a beautiful melody to go with it. A passionate relationship to say the least, her bandmates have a say that when your hands aren't on an instrument, they're on Soojin.

But can they really complain when there's some really iconic stages born from your freestyling sessions? At least that's what you both say you're working on when you lock the door of the studio behind you.

Soyeon

This one itself could be worthy of an entire enemy-to-lovers fic.

We know Soyeon is fond of her craft, so when Cube assigned (G)-Idle a composer she was furious. She tried missing some meetings, tried to get to deadlines earlier, in general, she evaded you as long as she could, but the one time she couldn’t find a way around meeting you, she hated herself a little for discovering late you were really kind and talented, and mostly… incredibly cute.

Now more than evading you on spite, she tried her best to not fall for you. And she was doing great, keeping her distance and the relationship between you two as professional as possible until one day, you knocked the door to her studio.

She couldn't resist and invited you in. And nobody could predict what followed. You were taking out hit, after hit, after hit, albums full of songs worth title tracks.

To be honest, no one would have known you two eventually got together until you decided to tell her members, you like the privacy of your haven. And even if people think it's a little odd for a relationship, more than cuddles and kisses, your love language consists of sharing the passion you both have for music.

Yuqi

There's not a single soul in Cube's building that Yuqi hasn't stricken up a conversation with, and you were no exception when you first arrived as the new composer. There was no stopping her as she found your craft fascinating, having dipped her own fingers in the composing pool a few times, everyday that her schedules allowed her she was there asking you a thousand different things.

And of course you didn't mind. It was really fun and sweet to have someone that interested in you and in what you do. Especially someone as cute as Yuqi.

Time was the only factor needed for you two to be able to build a very close relationship. One day you were both putting the final touches on a new track, and after giving a last listen to the whole arrangement you had a definite hit in your hands, Yuqi's excitement couldn't be contained and she crashed her lips against yours. Was it shocking? Yes. But surprising? Not really, you could cut the tension in between you both with a plastic knife.

You could say that entering a relationship full of energy and love, where everyday it's a new opportunity to discover new things and learn something it's your favorite perk of your new job.

Shuhua

Shuhua had finished her schedules early, she was feeling a little bit down and tired, so she decided to join Soyeon and Soojin to the recording studio, but she wasn't prepared for what awaited her beyond that door.

When she locked her eyes on your concentrated face, tweaking the arrangement, your fingers gracefully dancing across the piano, a sudden chill traveled her spine, and her brain started working at a thousand miles per hour. Her bandmates had never seen her like this, but she just wanted to have your attention, and it sure worked.

You too weren't feeling great that day in particular, but Shuhua's energy managed to uplift your spirits. It was a rush through both of your veins, an atmosphere you became addicted to because well… It made you both extremely happy. From that day on, there was never a single boring day in your life as it is said that after meeting Shuhua, you were able to write the first happy song of your career.

They say the best relationships have a good friendship as a base, and you and Shuhua are nothing but best friends with some extra physical perks here and there. Days full of pranks, laughter, dancing and singing all to the rhythm of happy songs.

#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #gidle scenarios #gidle imagines #gidle reactions #gidle miyeon #gidle minnie #gidle soojin #gidle soyeon #gidle yuqi #gidle shuhua

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officialgritty · 4 years ago

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The Vermont Villains Staff List + some much needed additions

This gives a detailed run down of the basic premise of the team. I suggest you read them in order!

(this art is courtesy of @chaos-hockey!)

Okay first of all, here are some new changes/concepts that have spawned in the last few weeks. Anything in colour was suggested and all my own thoughts will be in black.

Assign players a number as they join the team and make them figure out what the Roman numerals mean {@nikolajehlers} I am personally fond of the number 4999 and would LOVE to see them all squirm.

Make them wear solar panel jerseys for any outdoor games and a type of Haka but with no cultural value. {@tkachuking-deuces} I see your Haka and raise you ‘The Offering’ where we sacrifice something before each game. It could be a sandwich or even cookies. Who are we sacrificing to? The hockey Gods. But who am I kidding, we’d probably be sacrificing something we stole from the other team.

Monday should have a puppet, like a rock puppet. His name is Kingsley. {@bowenbyram} I wholeheartedly agree and I have also decided that Monday can figure skate so he is wearing a pretty pink outfit with his iconic tool belt on top.

(Here I have drawn up my vision of Monday our mascot. I am new to digital art so please be kind.)

We love take care of our animals well, around the arena is a large U shaped paddock giving them space to roam as they please. Rink entry is through the small opening, giving all the opportunity to pass by the livestock. This also doubles as a petting zoo during the day.

Shredded cheese confetti anytime that a player has shot top cheese and have live cows that can be won. {@youngbeezersmixtape} I adore this idea but I think it would be even better if we also include blocks of cheese falling amongst the shredded cheese. These can then be traded in for a go at Cow Roulette, where you complete the mini game to win what ever the Cheese Wheel lands on.

Disco lights on the ice! {@connormcdavo} Absolutely and the best part is no one will know when they’re going to turn on.

When directed to your seat, the tickets will feature a format that may seem weird to some. For example, ‘Lot 6 George Robertson’. The seats are like graves and yes, it seems morbid but I thought it was funny because the draft drawing I made of it made them look like that. Don’t question me.

Lastly, please enjoy a run down of our staff and their job descriptions. I hope I didn’t forget anyone (as it was really hard to keep up) but if I missed you or you want to be included, send me an ask or message with your best offer.

Water Boy - @bowenbyram keeps everyone hydrated, definitely has face paint on courtesy of one of the players. It’s become a pre-game ritual.

Zamboni Driver - @hockeyismyfirstlove blasts tunes and drives the zamboni super slow, gives us longer breaks.

Sin Bin Slanderer - @dmonchld will be waiting for an opportunity to start shit. Sitting in the opposing teams penalty box, you guessed it, slandering the other team and hopefully causing them to take more penalties. Her post.

Assistant - @iwantahockeyhimbo aids me in all the tasks I don’t want to do.

Co-Coach and Co-Coach - @newanon @matthewthotchuk will be making sure the team is up to standard.

Ticket Box - @kelleyr will take pleasure in making sure everyone feels unwelcome at the rink. “If you need help finding your seat, just start screaming, someone may or may not come help.”

Athletic Therapist - @stuetzlesbitch is in charge of making sure the athletes are doing and feeling their best.

Creative Dairy-Or - @youngbeezersmixtape is in charge of all things dairy related, besides the ice-cream at least. This includes cow roulette and cheese confetti. Yes like a creative director but for dairy.

Creative Accountant - @babytkachuks uses some creative ways to get around budgeting and salary requirements.

Astrologist - @sortagaysortahigh organises our team based on their birth charts, finding who will work the best together and who would make the best chaos line.

Court Jester - @pitoftrash is tasked with entertaining during the intermissions, mostly just skateboarding on the ice in a jester costume.

Announcer - @kempe causes mayhem while talking/yelling to herself all game. It’ll be hard to constantly fill the air time (and read the jerseys) but she’s a Leo so she’ll be good at it.

Seamstress - @kspitehockey makes any adjustments to jerseys and or merch.

Monday’s Partner in Crime - @hoeglander is either Monday’s best friend or tour guide, who knows, but everyone enjoys seeing them because they know Monday is a teeny bit safer to be around when they’re there.

Canteen Staff - @Ben and @Jerry, they serve their own icecream.{@youngbeezersmixtape}

Equipment Manager - @tkachuking-deuces makes sure we have located everything, that the solar jerseys work and aids in planning the stealing of the other team’s equipment.

Team Mum - @scheifefe gives any pep talks needed to the rookies (and quite frankly anyone who needs it).

The Coated Cryptid - @d00dlebob wears a muscle suit but only the top half, covered by sweatpants and a fur coat with a laser pointer in her hand at all times. Can be found at the petting zoo or on the opposite end of the arena to Monday, no one really knows what she was hired to do.

Head of Marketing - @chaos-hockey works closely with both the seamstress and I to bring all ideas into creation. Responsible for making sure all merch is just as chaotic as the team is.

Lead interviewer - @loganstanley enjoys asking both the team and staff all of the hard hitting questions. The team and staff love trying their best to understand her accent, although most of the time these attempts fall short, leaving us with some wonderful media content.

That concludes today’s post but don’t fret, more is to come in the next few weeks. A roster and player personality run down has been created, as well as a couple extra treats.

We hope you enjoy your stay visit at the Gut Her Son arena.

#this idea has gone too far and now I’m upset that none of this is real 😫#it’s a long post I’m so so sorry #and I still don’t know what to tag #the Vermont Villains #nhl #hockey

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madzfm · 3 years ago

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˛ ⠀ * ⠀ ★ ⠀ JESSICA ALEXANDER . CIS FEMALE . SHE / HER ⧽ ⠀ have you seen the 786 latest post ? sources say they have some serious dirt on the child of a big time COUNTRY MUSIC STARS . they haven’t revealed who it was yet but my best is on MADISON DARLING ! ever since that last update about how she ALLEGEDLY GOT CAUGHT SPORTING A BABY BUMP LAST YEAR BEFORE GHOSTING EVERYONE i don’t put anything pass them . i mean , these celebrity kids are just out of control . they do whatever they want , whenever they want and are ungrateful in the process !! i mean take MADDIE for example , they’re a TWENTY THREE year old DANCER , and what did they do to get there ? have famous parents ! like hello , just because you HAVE BEEN IN MUSIC VIDEOS WITH A-LIST MUSICIANS doesn’t mean you actually deserved it . i’m glad the 786 is taking them down a notch . it’s about time someone does .

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐂 / 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 / 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

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hey ... hey ... how y’all doin’ ? i’m sooo excited to be here , besties ! sorry i’m late with the intro , it’s been a looooong weekend for me but i’m eager to get the ball rolling . so here’s the rundown , the google doc has a full bio + more stats + headcanons but i don’t expect anyone to actually read all that nonsense so i’ve tried my best to sum it up below ( it’s still kinda long tho i’m sorry y’all i ramble too much ). i’m always down to talk plots & threw a few wanted connection ideas at the bottom , so feel free to hmu on discord any time <3 but yes okay let’s get into it

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━━ ˊ * 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 . .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. madison dallas darling . 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬). maddie , mads . 𝐝𝐨𝐛. april 14 , 1998 . 𝐚𝐠𝐞. twenty - three . 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜. aries sun , libra moon , leo asc . 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫. cis female . 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬. she / her . 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. bisexual . 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. nashville , tn . 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 5ft 5in . 𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. high school diploma . 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. dancer / realty tv personality . 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬. robert “robbie” darling - father . dixie darling - mother . delaney darling - sister . 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬. compassionate , imaginative , family-oriented , devoted , generous , sympathetic , idealistic , self critical , naive , competitive , indecisive , impressionable , elusive , sensitive .

━━ ˊ * 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 . .

tw : things like shitty controlling parents , injury , & pregnancy are mentioned

born & raised in nashville , tennessee , madison is the daughter of two country music icons ( basically blake shelton & miranda lambert ) & has only ever known a life in the spotlight . her parents were a widely adored it couple who shared their lives with millions of viewers across the world with their reality tv show . at 7pm cst you could tune in to watch robbie & dixie raise their two daughters - having some good ol’ wholesome family fun while juggling responsibilities that come with being famous artists . to any outsider looking in , they seemed like the perfect family . a loving father , a supportive mother , two prim & proper daughters that collected accolade after accolade in every pageant & talent competition they ever entered . but you shouldn’t believe everything you see on tv , even if it’s deceptively labeled as “reality” .

when the cameras weren’t rolling , the darling sisters were left under their mother’s restrictive control . dixie darling treated her daughters more like dolls than living beings , madison & delaney were basically pretty little accessories . while robbie never dared to mistreat his daughters , he was around a lot less than the show made it seem - often touring the world rather than spending quality time with his girls . plus , dixie & robbie seemed to endlessly fight with one another - nearly every childhood memory madison has of her parents involves them yelling . if she wanted to see them looking happy & in love , she’d have to tune in to the fabricated reality on their own show to get a taste of what a happy , loving family looks like .

you can’t be a child of dixie darling without being exploited in some way . while delaney was pushed into the music scene , madison was shoved into the world of dance . she took every class that was offered & practiced for hours upon hours to perfect her craft . her sister had taken after their folks with the singing voice of an angel & the looks to rival that of miss universe , meanwhile maddie was good for two things : dance & doing whatever her mother said . so when dixie said to twirl , she twirled , when she said do a grand jeté, maddie asked how high & then over performed like the good little girl she was trained to be .

it wasn’t until her parents got divorced & maddie moved to miami to be with her sister , her father , & her father’s new girlfriend that she sort of came out ( or more accruately described as dragged out ) of her timid , non - confrontational , subservient shell . with a longer leash , she had more freedom to roam far & wide . no one tried to tell her what to do or who to talk to & considering she was just a privileged teenager with endless funds & the status to get away with just about anything , you can imagine how badly that went . every mistake she made was broadcasted onto people’s televisions or headlined in tabloids . it was stressful , growing up & messing up all under the watchful gaze of millions of people who felt entitled to berate her for her poor life decisions . just because they watched her grow up on tv didn’t mean they actually knew anything about her . & yet so many people shared their unsolicited opinions on her & her life . it drove her insame .

maddie wasn’t handling the stress of being well known very well . she wanted a break from it all , to just go somewhere far away where no one knew her name & just live by herself . it was a silly dream . nothing she’d ever actively pursue . but the universe has a funny way of giving us a taste of what we think we want just to teach us a lesson .

so over a year ago , maddie found out that she was pregnant . it was a shock to say the least . she kept it a close guarded secret from everyone but her sister for awhile . not only was it a life changing development , but it was one thing that she was determined not to share with the rest of the world . with the idea of running away in continuous loop in the back of her mind , she came up with a plan to buy herself some time . she faked a really bad injury during a performance & let the media run with saying she might not be able to walk , let alone dance ever again . pushing the cover story even further , she claimed to be in need of intense physical therapy & sought after it in a luxurious private lodge in new zealand . that’s where she stayed during her year away , letting no outsiders come visit while she figured out how she was going to move forward with this baby growing inside of her .

so maddie finally got the break she was looking for even if it wasn’t under the circumstances that she would’ve liked . but she adapted to the situation . in her time away , she went through the entire pregnancy but it was basically decided for her by her parents that it was best to give the baby up for adoption . the little girl would be in good care by a couple that was a family friend of the darlings . better to bless someone who wanted a baby but couldn’t have one than for maddie to keep her daughter when she wasn’t in a place to take care of her . it broke her heart , honestly . she had grown quite attached to the baby & even entertained the idea of being a single mom even though she knew her own mom would never let that happen - it would go against the strict narrative that they try to put out there about the darling family .

after a year away , maddie is back in miami without anyone knowing what really happened . she keeps using the “injury” as the excuse for her absence from the spotlight . anyone really close to her might be able to tell that something’s off , but she’s trying so hard to act like everything is fine & nothing has changed at all . she might even be able to get away with her lies - if it wasn’t for that damn 786 website threatening to spill the tea & make her life hell .

━━ ˊ * 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

a wannabe good girl gone bad but harbors a deep rooted fear of being a disappointment & a failure due to her mom’s strict parenting style . so like she wants to be rebellious & come across as carefree but internally she’s panic screaming always ( honestly relatable like same , girl )

well - mannered in a sweet southern belle kind of way with her please’s & thank you’s & calling everyone ma’am & sir out of respect & what not

biiiig mom friend energy . she just wants to make sure that everyone is taken care of . she can get very protective & a little helicopter parent-y with her friends . it probably has something to do with control issues that she doesn’t realize she has but we don’t have time to unpack that rn akjsdbk

before her year away i want to say that she was a lot more people please-y / overly eager to please ?? like rarely said no to people that asked for favors , always agreed to any plans people invited her to out of courtesy , & what have you . but now i see her as being a little less patient than before & a little bit more unhinged & quick to shut down or snap

guillable ! naive ! dumb as hell ! believes that everyone was raised with the same values as her & has a big of a heart like she does so she’s easily subjectable to getting her feelings hurt & i say let it happen !!

wants to be mysterious so bad but there is very little known about her & her life that isn’t public knowledge . she could get shit on by a bird & it’ll probably become a twitter highlight idk she just wants to believe she’s imperceptible & acts all evasive in order to keep her private life private but that rarely ever has the desired effect

one of those annoying rich & famous people that’s like “i wasn’t meant to be famous . i was meant to have a normal life & be a normal person” but like !! she is actually so out of touch with reality & probably couldn’t tell you how much milk is at the grocery store because she has people to do mundane day to day things for her . spoiled little privileged rich girl , let’s be real . her dad tried to keep her humble , idk what happened

dance style / career is pretty much inspired by maddie ziegler but also not really bc i am very picky & choosey about which aspects of her career i’m pulling from

boring on social media because she hardly ever posts & is very short with her captions & tweets when she does make an appearance online every blue moon

dodges questions about what she’s been up to while she was gone like she’s in the matrix or something . all that pr training her mom put her through when she was younger is coming in handy because she has not given a single honest , straight answer in the months she’s been back . would rather talk about anything else than herself right now so don’t be surprised if she pulls some random subject changes out of her ass if people get nosy . i’m sure the common conspiracy is that maddie was so embarrassed by the fall on stage that she went into hiding

delaney is the kim kardashian & britney spears of the family while madison is the kourtney & the jamie lynn xoxo

━━ ˊ * 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 . .

ride or die , bad influence , frenemies , family friends , good influence , confidant , rival , girl squad , non judging breakfast club , childhood friend , unlikely friend , exes on good terms , exes on bad terms , neighbors , pr friendship , pr enemy , social media mutuals , party buddies , secret friend , secret hook - up , crush , friends with benefits , adventure buddy , enemy with benefits , dance partners , mentors , mentees , sibling like relationship , will they won’t they , people suspicious of her & her supposed “injury” , father of her baby 👀 jk ..... unless

#786intro #template credit to yeonjvnz on deviantart !#they're linked in the source <3

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plush-rabbit · 4 years ago

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

You’re in the middle of getting ready, a brush in hand when you freeze. Your ears burn with embarrassment and disbelief- you really had talked to some random stranger on the internet and offered your number to them! And if that wasn’t the worst part, you don’t even know what they looked like, or even know their name! And you told them your name! And even gave them your phone number! You bury your face in your hands and let out a pitiful groan. God, you were always so open and vulnerable when you were half-asleep but this just takes the cake.

“I did want more friends,” you muttered to yourself. “Plus he doesn’t seem too creepy. Maybe he’s just insecure or something with his appearance. Maybe it’s a quirk thing.” You try to reason to yourself, your words not holding much conviction and a swarm of butterflies beginning to form in your stomach, swirling and making you nauseous with anxiety.

You glance at your phone and check your messages. You had received no new messages and the part of you that craved acceptance was disappointed, your ego hurt and the sick feeling of shame taking over.

“Maybe this is for the best, I don’t even know his name,” your voice was quiet and unsure. You tried to convince yourself, the butterflies that began to flutter last night were now a rampaging swarm that made you feel like they would burst out at any second and all your anxieties and fears would consume and feast on your broken body.

Your eyes grew wide and you covered your head. Broken gasps left you, everything too hot all of a sudden, the clothes on you were no longer fresh and left you feeling like an imposter wearing your skin, that the minute you would walk out of the comfort of your own home, you would be mocked and laughed at. You were finding it harder to breathe and you clawing at your chest through your clothes, tears burning in the corners of your eyes. As your vision began to blur, your chest heaving and heart pumping that you felt it would burst out, you phone vibrated against the counter, a loud, invading buzz making you flinch. Rising on shaky legs, you picked up your phone and wiped a clammy hand down the side of your jeans, the scratchy feeling bringing you back to reality. You forced yourself to look at the screen, desperate for any kind of distraction, for the heaviness in your chest to lighten.

Your vision blurred and tears made their way down your face. With the back of your hand, you wiped them away, sniffling and shook your free hand. You focused on where a notification had appeared on the lock screen, an unregistered number popping up with a simple message of ‘hello’. And with a sense of focus, everything felt a bit more breathable. You cleared your throat, forced back the lump in your throat and opened the new message.

It took you a moment to register who it was. You could only guess that it was him, you really couldn’t remember giving your number out to other strangers. You snorted and shook your head. Fingers danced over the screen, typing out your reply, a shaky smile already forming on your lips.

You:

{Look at you messaging me first. Never thought I’d see the day:’)}

You waited with bated breath, going through other options of how you could have replied him before shaking your head- that was probably one of the better ways to respond to him- he was sarcastic, you could be playful and tease him and the former would just throw an insult your way or deflect the question. With breaths finally returning to normal, took a deep breath and went to prepare yourself a sandwich before you ventured off.

You returned to a silent phone, the message marked with “Read” and you cleared your throat. You saved his number under his nickname.

You tried to relax yourself, that while he had a very strong idea of who you were and that it wouldn’t be all that difficult to find who you are, there was no real danger to who you were talking to. The bread underneath your fingertips was indented. You’d be fine in the end. You were just overreacting. In the middle of a bite, your phone buzzed, the message icon displaying across the upper screen.

Toma:

[I already regret this]

You quickly typed out a message, not wanting to lose this playful banter. At least it was playful to you. He was already hard to read when you’d hear his voice, but now that it through pure text, you had no idea what his tone was, what he really could be thinking and what he actually wanted to say before being deleted and retyped.

You:

{And yet you still reply:P}

You thought it was best to skip over the pleasantries, figuring out that he probably didn’t want to talk about how he slept or hearing of the weird dreams that you had that night. No, he seemed more like the type to get to the point, to just say what he’s thinking and act impulsively, not thinking about the repercussions or perhaps not even caring about them if there were any.

Toma:

[Getting your number was a mistake]

You let out a laugh. The feeling In your stomach had already been muted by your lunch, but now it seemed to rise up, wanting to remind you that your anxieties still had you on a tight leash, one that choked you and beg for air.

You:

{So how come you messaged me first??}

{I don’t mind it!! I had a fun time last night:) But I didn’t think you did, which is fine but you could’ve not messaged me}

{Sooo,,, I don’t know where I’m going with this://}

Shigaraki stared at the screen, his upper lip curled into a sneer and red eyes in narrowed slits. If he were to be honest, he had only messaged you because he was bored. It had been a particularly slow day at the League, plans having been changed to another day, meetings having already been done earlier and it was a rare for them to get a day where they had it to themselves- where they didn’t need to plan or worry about if this would be their last day on this miserable planet.

But that rare moment of peace never extended to him. Shigaraki always had to plan. He had to be one step ahead of everyone- he can’t risk a day, an hour, a minute- he had to go over everything until he was sure there were no faults in his plans. Yet, on this day, his head was foggy, muddled with insecurities he wouldn’t dare speak out, and starting to hurt with a combination from lack of sleep and staring at the same plans that constantly shifted, always finding a flaw.

His hands were clasped in front of him, fingers massaging into his skin. His eyes slowly closed and he released a long exhale. His skin itched and burned and his patience was already wearing thin. Red eyes leer at the phone that sits on his desk, screen black and silent.

The phone was almost always silent, only used for a few messages that were sent to him by members of the League or notifications of mobile games. However, his phone now buzzes with your messages, with mundane conversations as if you were talking to an old friend. You talk to him as if he were an ordinary person who had a family and didn’t risk his life by his mere existence.

Yet, that wasn’t who he was. He was a killer, one of Japan’s most wanted, someone who could and would kill you with just a touch of his hand. As far as you were concerned, he wasn’t any of that. He doesn’t know what compels him to message you, he knows he doesn’t want a slice of normalcy, he has a dream and the will to do it and you were just going to be a distraction, a small weight tying him down. He shakes his head and types a message to you, the words disappearing and reappearing as he figures out what to say, and a small part of him, one that he will deny even in death, wants you to reply back to him, wants to have a small distraction for a second even if it’s from someone that doesn’t know who he truly is.

Toma:

[I was bored]

He doesn’t have to wait long for your reply, you come eager and begging for his attention, trying to hold on it.

You:

{Yeah, that’s valid}

{What are you up to?}

He wonders if you really are interested in what he’s doing or it it’s courtesy that you’ve extended to him. He bites down on his lip, gnawing on it until it stings as he reads your words. He reasons to himself that there really is no harm in talking to you- this friendship that you’ve made up in your mind won’t go on longer for a month, it’ll stay purely through messaging until one of you grows bored and then you would both part ways- you would go on to live an ordinary life and he would change the world or die trying. But death was never going to be an option for him- he’d bare his teeth and bite until blood was flowing before he would die.

He was aware that he when he messaged, he wasn’t the most expressive person, his replies often one-worded and blunt and even though you messaged him with what he felt was full enthusiasm and adding emoticons, he was going to stick to his messaging style.

Shigaraki let out another sigh. He just wanted to take a break from his notes, for just a second. But he couldn’t shake off your question. Why had he messaged you? Was it simply to feel a bit of normalcy? Last night, you were the one to give him your number, he hadn’t exchanged his so he could have easily not have messaged you. But he was bored and exhausted from finding a flaw in every plan, angry dark marks etched on the paper, balls of crumbled up paper littering the floor, and broken pencils. He clears his throat. He just wanted a second of mindless distraction.

He ponders if he should actually tell you what he really is doing, he wonders if you’d take him seriously or if you’d think he was joking and play along. But he can’t risk it. Not unless he could dispose of you right away. The chair creaks as he leans back on it, staring at your message, he makes something up- a simple mundane task that everyone does.

Toma:

[Grocery shopping]

On the other side of the screen, you perked up. Messaging wasn’t always your strongest suit, you had enough trouble reading people’s intentions and tone when you were face to face to face with them. But to add a screen in between the parties with no tone control, just words that could have been spoken in a number of ways, it made you nervous. You were always left wondering if the other people on the side of screen had wanted to stop the conversation, if your sarcasm was reached over with the help of an emoticon or if the messaged had made you seem like stuck-up.

Messaging with the stranger that you had met online certainly didn’t help ease your worries. He was always harsh when you two would play. There was always a hint of annoyance, a backhanded compliment tossed at you every now and then, a snide remark when someone would mess up. It was easy to say that he wasn’t the nicest and yet, you still offered to message him, to talk to him more and reach out a hand towards him. And he took your hand. You didn’t want this acquaintanceship to die of so quickly, you didn’t want to read every word he sent you through scrutinizing eyes, you just wanted to talk to him for a bit.

“Just don’t overthink it. Don’t be so weird about it,” you told yourself, letting out a breath.

You:

Oh, that’s neat! What are you getting?

I need to go shopping soon. My snack stash is running low:(((

The sandwich at the table looked unappetizing. You were so awful at making conversation it was almost funny. Almost.

The phone buzzed against the table; the loud, shrill noise making you cringe and gulp down the last bits of your drink.

Toma

[Snack stash?]

He was dodging the question. The innate want of wanting to pry bubbled up but you were aware that it was an odd thing to ask why a person wanted to avoid such a simple question so you buried the feeling down. There was no point in making a mountain out a mole hill.

You:

{Yeah, a stash with all my favorite snacks}

{I don’t like going out too often so I always make sure that I have plenty of snacks to last me a while}

{Plus it’s good practice for self-control lmao}

His replies stopped shortly after that. Your fingers nervously tapped on the counter as you waited, perking up when your phone buzzed but deflating when it was another notification. You shook your head. You didn’t want to be so caught up on messaging one person. You shouldn’t get your feelings hurt over something so trivial. You wanted to believe those words but it was hard to. You didn’t know why he had such an effect on you; it wasn’t like you’ve seen his face or had an actual conversation with him. But the thought of the potential friendship was nice.

A low groan was held in the back of your throat. Your hands raided the pantry, pulling out bags of chips that contained crumbs, crackers, a box with one packet of fruit gummies. Your shoulders drooped and you glanced at your phone once more. You glanced out the window and clicked your tongue.

It wasn’t too late. There was still a bit of daylight out, the streetlights illuminating the streets with a soft orange glow. “I need more snacks,” you whispered to yourself, your hand touching your stomach and clenching the fabric of your shirt.

Leaves crunched under your foot, weeds in between cracks flattening and blowing with what little breeze was out. The sun was setting casting the city is a deep orange and pink glow. It wasn’t a long walk from where you lived to the nearest convenience store, your bag bounced against your hip as you walked, your phone placed inside to keep from falling out of your back pocket. The wind rustled your hair, a fresh breeze that cooled you down from the humidity in the air.

You had your head in the clouds, making a mental check list on the things you needed. You clicked your tongue, pulling a sour face and regretting that you didn’t properly check your cabinets before you left. However, when you were at your apartment, you were busy thinking about other things- or rather someone else. You started thinking about your new online friend for what must’ve been an unhealthy amount of times in the time that you’ve known him. You wanted to know more about him but you knew that if you pushed he would’ve retreated. You had a forlorn look on your face as you thought about what you could do to improve the friendship between the both of you but you felt sick about forcing him into a friendship that he didn’t want.

A bell interrupted your thoughts as you entered the store. The cold air from the air conditioner provided you relief from the outside. The cashier welcomed you, meeting your eyes for a brief second before they continued their transaction with an already existing customer. There was a current pop song playing low in the speakers, the lyrics filling your mind and pushing out any other thoughts. You smiled back at them, waving your hand before grabbing a plastic basket and walking in between the aisles, your hands picking things up and dropping them in the basket.

You made your way to the back of the store, the chill air coming from the freezers making the hair on your arms stand on their ends. Your eyes analyzed the doors, looking for any other treats you’d might like, frost creeping from edges of the door to the center. Plastic snowflakes and little stickers of soda bottles and tubs of ice cream with smiling faces decorated the frosty doors.

You licked your lips and looked down at your full basket. You shook your head and decided to get the frozen treats, opting to walk quickly back home so the treats wouldn’t freeze. The condensation expels from the door, your eyes narrowing as it stings you.

There’s movement in the corner of your eyes and you see a figure standing a door away from you. Their back was hunched and a hand was placed on their chin, eyes scanning the chilled food that laid inside. His eyes made eye contact and you smiled nervously, quickly returning your gaze and grabbing the ice pops inside. You scurried off to the register, hand clutching the handle of the bag tight.

The cashier made small talk with you, commenting about the day and scanning the items and placing them in a plastic bag. You heard steps approach behind you and handed the cashier the money, telling them thank you and to have a good day.

Dark clouds covered the sky, a chill wind has replaced the humidity, and you begin your trek back home. You smile at passing people, the bags heavy in your hands there’s a fear that they’ll rip from the handles before you reach your place. Cars drive past you, yellow and white lights illuminating you for a second and casting shadows that stretch across the concrete.

A large shadow appears behind you, overtaking your own shadow and it stills when you pause in your steps. You straighten your back and turn around, eyes widening for a split second before you smile at the man behind you.

He’s lanky and tall, limbs look a bit too long and he has short cropped hair. He smiles back at you and it sends a chill down your spine. He’s the same guy from the freezer aisle. You notice there’s less people around, the cars passing by in fewer numbers and you speed our pace. Thunder cracks overhead and the smell of rain fills the air. The steps behind you quicken. Your jaw tightens and you try to force yourself to relax. The odds of being interrupted in your commute are low. It’s about to rain so maybe they’re just running for cover.

“Hi!” His voice is cheery and eyes are wide. “Listen, I saw you in the store.” His hands are moving as he talks and he matches your pace. He either fails to notice the look of discomfort on your face or he simply doesn’t care. You glance around trying to find someone who could help you but the streets are empty, wind rustles and picks up fallen leaves making them dance in the wind. He babbles on, pausing when you do and he shoves his hands in his pocket but his arms are still moving.

“I-uh, listen,” you try to interject but he continues to talk, his voice speaking over yours and it makes you bite the inside of your cheeks. “Listen, I have to go home.” You say firmly, and turn away from the man. You walk away, your feet hurting from the hard stomps on the concrete.

His voice begins to call out to you, and he tells you to wait up but you continue your walk not wanting to look back and it begins to mist. You feel your skin begin to crawl. He stills calls behind you, and you bags in our hand begin to grow heavier. There’s a passing thought that your ice pops might melt. You feel as if you’ve been walking forever, your legs growing tired and chest lacking air, your body heats up and the sound of the thunder covers the man’s voice.

There’s a sharp tug on your elbow, the plastic bags bounce around and hit your thigh. You rip your arm free and the man’s face grows twisted and eyes darken to an amber hue. “Listen, I just wanted to ask for your number,” his tone is annoyed and eyes roll, “but now that you’re acting—”

“Okay! Bye!” You shout, and tug your arm free. You walk away from him quick, the bags slap against you and you just want to head home already.

You walk into your apartment, kicking your shoes off and dropping the bags on the floor in the kitchen. You quickly shove the ice pops into the freezer, opting to check their condition later.

Your elbow burns at where you were touched. You gingerly touch the crease of your elbow, fingertips feeling as if they’re touching something that doesn’t belong. You shake your head. You grab a paper towel and wipe your face; the mist from the rain has left your feeling icky and uncomfortable wet.

You grab a pack of sweets from the bag, choosing to put everything away later. Your bag is tossed onto the coffee table falling with a dull thud. You flop onto the couch, the sweets tasting sour on your tongue. It slides down heavy in your throat and you toss the bag on the coffee table.

You think back to what the man had said. He grabs your arm and chases you down from the convenience store because he wanted your number. Bile rises in the back of your throat and you grip your shirt into clumps. You can still feel the clamminess of his hand on your elbow. You swipe it away with a rough drag of your hand.

“I basically did the same thing with Toma,” you whisper to yourself. “Granted it wasn’t as rough but you still bothered him enough.” Your face shines a bright red that burns your face.

You sigh and close your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows together and opening them up when your phone buzzes in your bag. You turn to face it and with lazy movements, you pull it out and glance at the notification. Tomaraki’s name pops up. A smile forms on your face before you smother it down feeling guilty. You click on his notification and his messages fill the screen.

Toma:

[Just do whatever you want]

[Its snacks who gives a fuck]

You:

{Yeah, you’re right}

{Hey, I’m feeling kind of shitty, message me later if ya want}

You don’t have the energy or clear mind to continue a conversation with him and you didn’t want to waste his time if he was busy or something. You laid back on the couch, placing the phone on your chest and you thought that maybe if you fell asleep, you’d wake up feeling better.

“Nothing bad happened to you, just a comment that sounded bad,” you thought to yourself, hands clenching your shirt above your stomach. Your eyes grew heavy and you could feel yourself slipping into a nap when the phone buzzes on your chest. You groan and check the phone, squinting your eyes at the light.

Toma:

[Fine]

You frown and feel worse- the sinking feeling in your stomach grows heavier. What if he thought that you were mad at him because he replied late? What if he thought that you didn’t want to talk to him anymore? Oh god. You really hated overthinking. Your covers your eyes with the balls of your hands, colors pop behind your closed eyelids.

You:

{I just had a shitty encounter is all, I’ll feel better after I nap}

{Message me in like an hour if you want:P}

Shigaraki stares at his phone annoyance. He hadn’t asked for an explanation but he did feel a bit more at ease. From the few conversations that you have had with him, you had always seemed rather chipper, like an excitable pup, albeit a bit awkward but you never really seemed to be in a bad mood. A part of him wanted to know what happened and he knew that if he asked, you would tell him.

Toma:

[What happened?]

Your eyes furrowed at the message. You wanted to tell him but it’s not like it was a big deal, it was just uncomfortable and the aftereffects are what made you more upset than anything else.

You:

[I’ll tell you if you call me lmao]

You groaned immediately after sending that message. However, you reasoned to yourself that he wouldn’t call you- he barely wanted to have a video chat with you.

In the make-shift living room, where Shigaraki sat with the other members, he stared at his phone glancing around at everyone and humming when they were engrossed in their activities. Dabi Mr. Compress, Twice and Spinner were playing a game of cards, a stench of smoke filling the air, while Toga was painting her nails, blowing on them gently and snickering when she looks at Dabi’s cards, a harsh shush and sparks flying from his mouth.

Looking back down at his phone, Shigaraki stood up and made his way towards his living room, waving his hand when Toga yelled goodnight. He locks the door behind him and sat on the chair in his bedroom. He stares at your message, unblinking and deciding “screw it”, as he pushes the call button. The call rang for a moment too long and for a second he thought it was going to go to voicemail. And then he heard your voice.

“Hello?” You sound puzzled.

“What happened?” He decides to get to the point.

“Oh!” You could feel embarrassment flood your face. You laugh nervously and it cuts off too soon. “It isn’t- It’s not anything big. It-it’s dumb. It’s not like anything happened, it’s just me being stupid like always, ha,” you giggled nervously, your voice trailing off towards the end. “It really isn’t anything big. It was just a weird thing.” He can hear your nervousness through the phone, you sound out of breath and he hears fabric rustling in the background.

“Tell me.” He’s losing his patience. Why bother to tease him something and then not even commit to telling him?

You sighed into the phone, and you rationalized to yourself that he wouldn’t care. That maybe afterwards you two could talk about something else and that you’d forget the whole thing that wasn’t really a thing. But even that thought weighs you down.

You let out a shaky breath; your voice is low and hesitant. “So, I was running low on snacks, right? And I went to the closest convenience store which is like fifteen minutes by foot. And like, I buy my things and like when I’m walking home a guy keeps trying to talk to me and I’m just uncomfortable and I walk away and then he grabs my elbow and he like basically wanted my number and—” a lump grows in your throat— “Why do you keep talking to me? You don’t have to. I don’t want it to be like I’m forcing you to talk to me. I’m sure you’re busy with other things and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me.” You bite down on your lip, gnawing on it till you feel the raw flesh sting. “I’m being dumb again.” You bite down on the raw spot on your lip, feeling a faint metallic taste linger on your lips. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

He’s at a loss for words. He’s tongue flicks out and licks his chapped lips. He’s silent for a while, eyes darting around the room hoping to find an answer hidden in there. “That’s dumb.” His reply is harsh.

“What part?” You whisper, tracing the edge of the phone with your finger.

“I’m still talking to you, aren’t I? If I didn’t want to talk to you I wouldn’t have fucking called or even messaged you,” he snaps. He grits his teeth and a free hand scratches his neck, dull red lines appearing and growing brighter until it stings. “It’s fucking dumb of you to ask.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and the sick feeling in your stomach has begun to lessen. “I just didn’t want it to be like I was twisting your arm is all,” you chuckle dryly.

“Well you’re not,” he huffed.

“Thanks. For like the confirmation,” you speak softly, curling in on yourself on the torture. “It uh, it means a lot.”

He scoffs into the receiver. The hands on his neck have stopped scratching; his fingertips rub at the sore spots. His chest tightens and he tells you to shut up.

“No, no. I mean it. I know it’s dumb but it just- I appreciate knowing that you aren’t like being forced to talk to me. I know I probably came off too strong and maybe you felt like you had to say yes so I like knowing that you aren’t forced to talk to me,” you ramble, ears tinged red.

His hands twitch and nails scratch at the wounds. He hisses in pain and teeth grit, his opens into a palm and he applies pressure to his neck.

“Are you okay?” You voice is frantic and you rise from your position. “Toma, you good?”

He hesitates for a second. “Yeah, I’m fine.” His eyes scan the room. “I hit my knee on my desk.”

“Ouch. I have this coffee table that I keep bumping into so it has a bunch of dents and chipped off paint but it really ties in the room together so the pain is worth it.” The lump in your throat has disappeared and you reach over to grab the bag of sweets, popping one in your mouth as you speak. “I think I might get those like baby proof things.” You crinkle the bag in your hand and take a deep breath. “Can you tell me about your day?” Your voice is soft and he can hear plastic in the background.

“Why?”

“I told you about my day,” you shrug. “Plus, I just want to hear your voice for a little while.” You snuggled deeper into the couch, curling in on yourself, and lay the phone on the couch. “Indulge me. I told you about my day, you tell me yours.”

He wanted to tell you to fuck off, that the only reason he got curious about your day was because you had been cryptic with yours. He bit at his bottom lip, his eyes casted to the right for a right a brief second. He’s quiet for a long time- he can hear you shift around on the other side of the phone and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“It wasn’t anything special.” He starts off slow, choosing his words correctly. “Woke up. Did stuff. And now I’m talking to you.”

You roll your eyes. “Vague as usual.” You click your tongue. “You didn’t play the game today?”

“Hadn’t thought about it.” He’s honest with you for once.

You let out a sharp laugh, stretching in the couch before turning over on your stomach, resting your chin on your hands and your phone now moved in front of you, leaning against the armrest. “Yeah? I’m surprised. With a level and stats as high as yours, I pegged you as the type to play that game every chance you had.” You twirl your finger on the air, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I had other things to do.” He says- his tone a tad defensive.

“Oh?” Your voice rises in pitch. “Oh, right, right. You did “stuff” today. How could I ever forget your descriptive storytelling. Silly me.” Your voice has a kittenish quality. “So, despite having to do- what I’m sure is gruesome stuff- how has your day been so far?”

He doesn’t secretly dream of having a normal life- a life where he isn’t a villain, where his quirk isn’t something that can cause mass destruction- he doesn’t want any of that. He has a goal that he needs to reach. He has his life set out in front of him. But talking to you, as much as he hates it, doesn’t fill with him with dread or anxiety. It isn’t an overbearing weight that it once was, it feels lighter. He doesn’t want to know about your personal life, he doesn’t want to hear to hear you laugh. He doesn’t want to hear you say that you want hear his voice.

“Toma? You there?” You whisper, your voice gentle.

“I’m here,” he rasps out. He doesn’t want to be here.

“Wanna hear what I’m planning to do tomorrow?” You ask timidly.

You don’t wait for a reply. Instead, you start to talk about your plans for tomorrow. You talk about how you’ll try to wake up early, maybe do some yoga if it’s early enough. Or how you’ll make a simple breakfast; how you’ve been dying to try to make fluffy pancakes but you never have the motivation to actually make breakfast so you usually eat some fruit or pastry that you have lying around. You mention how you’ll call your other friends and ask to hang out or maybe just have a group call and talk about nothing and everything all at once. You laugh a bit when you talk about your friends. You mention how the call usually lasts for hours- the most being six- and how you’re always tired the next day, how you have a headache that’s caused by lack of sleep but you never regret the calls. You giggle at the end of that tangent and mention that it’s a dumb inside joke where you’ll start to complain four hours in that you’re tired but the call will keep going and towards the end of the call you’ll start getting sarcastic when they mention that they’re tired. You try to stifle your giggles and change topics to move on to what you might eat tonight- that you aren’t in the mood for anything too heavy, but you don’t want any fast food. You ask for his opinion on what he should eat and he mentions ordering ramen. You nod and tell him that’s a good idea. You talk about everything to him; you’re so open with this stranger that you don’t even know the name of. And he tells you this. There’s no bite to his voice, no insult ready to strike at you; just an observation.

You hesitate to answer. You tap on your phone, the screen lighting up. You’ve been on the call for a little over an hour and half. The corner of your mouth twitches.

“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. “I think… I think I was just really lonely that night.” The words are heavy on your tongue. “I mean, we had talked beforehand. When we did missions and stuff. We did team ups often enough and I guess I grew to like being around you. Or, er, talking to you.” You rub your lip between your teeth. “I mean, I’m okay not knowing your name. It isn’t like I’ve told you much about myself. You only know my first name and face but you don’t know where I live or my full name so,” you trail off, unsure how to end. “You aren’t really a stranger. I may not know your actual name but I’m gonna take a guess and say that the name you gave me has to be similar to your actual name.” You aren’t exactly wrong. “And I don’t know. Some people are,” you try to choose your next words carefully, “insecure of how they look. So I don’t really hold it against you if you don’t want me to see your actual face, ya know? Or even if it’s a privacy thing. I get it.” There’s silence on his end. “Did that make sense?”

He mumbles his agreement. Not all of it made for sound logic but it was logical to you, you gave your reasons and while they weren’t exactly the strongest, you stuck by them. He bends his head down and he clicks his tongue.

Twice knocks on his door and enters after a second has passed. Shigaraki twists his body and stares as Twice jerks his thumb over his shoulder and says that everyone is itching for something to do and every word after that is inaudible. He’s sitting at an angle, the phone that is pressed up against his ear, is hidden by his hair. You’re back to talking, unaware that Shigaraki has been interrupted, and he’s tuning out every word Twice is saying, only giving him a shake of the hand to indicate that he’ll be there, wherever there is, later. The door slams behind him and you ask what that was. He replies that he dropped something. You nod your head, only to give a verbal acknowledgement when you remember that he can’t see you.

“So, we’ve been talking for a while,” you breathe out. “Do you want to stop? I don’t mind talking to you for longer but I just wanted to make sure you weren’t bored of me yet.” You chuckle at the end, it’s a bit unsure but not totally humorless.

Shigaraki squints his eyes and pulls the phone away from him. Ten minutes until two hours. You two have been talking to close to two hours. Or rather, you talked for two hours while he listened.

“I uh, didn’t mean to talk for so long, heh.” You chuckle again and this time it’s humorless. “Next time you can talk and I’ll just listen.” You take off the speaker and press the phone close to your ear. You pull your knees up to your chest and rest your head on them.

Two months of group missions. Two weeks of missions done together alone. One late night call. Half a day of messaging. One two hour call.

“Toma, you there?” Your voice is back to being soft again. It reminds him of something he once craved for and thinking about it makes his head hurt. It unsettles him and he can’t think straight.

“Tomura.” His voice is too low. You almost didn’t catch it. You’re surprised you did.

“Tomura?” You question what this means. Is it a code or is it- oh.

You say his name again. Just above a whisper. The name is heavy on your tongue. And then you hear a click and the line is empty. You blink one. Twice. Your eyes are wide like owls and you mouth his name. And then you let out a shaky breath, the corner of your lips twitching upwards before allowing a full grin to take over.

“Tomura.” You click your tongue and rise up from the couch. Your fingers type at the screen and his name stares up at you. “It’s a nice name.”

Tagged:

@noonewouldlisten25

@yul-is-sparkling

@loveableasshole

@rogueofbullshit

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki tomura #bnha #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader #can i ask you something #ciays #6.5k #damn #sorry it took a while #this chapter was a mess and i didnt like it when i first wrote it #so i had to rewrite it #the middle is eh #im proud of the ending tho #see yall next week #sorry if you wanted to be tagged and i mssed you #or if you didnt want to be and i accidently tagged you #my bad

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starker-eternity · 5 years ago

Text

Taken

A little fic Drabble surrounding an idea that won’t get out of my head...

Warnings: Starker, societally accepted kidnapping, ABO

*****

Pepper Potts knocked on the ornate mahogany doors that protected her boss’ private office, waiting for permission to enter before pushing open said door. As she strode to the desk where her boss sat, she noticed his attention was focused intensely on the holographic and touch screen surface of his desk. Several windows were open and he was switching amongst them with sharp waves of his hand.

Pepper came to a stop right before his desk and waited for Tony Stark, genius and billionaire philanthropist, to acknowledge her presence. As she waited, she took note that the Alpha was lingering on an image of a young man with a mop of chestnut curls. She couldn’t clearly see the picture from her angle and she knew better than to let her attention linger. If it was a matter that concerned her, she’d know it soon enough.

“Ah, Ms. Potts, right on time.”

Pepper nodded her head once, a professional smile on her face. “Of course, Mr. Stark. You needed to see me? What can I do for you today?”

Tony traced one finger down the digitally imaged cheek of the young man’s face before his gaze snapped up to look at his Beta assistant. Piercing dark eyes held her gaze as a smirk spread across his face. “We need to plan a party. A celebration, in fact!”

Pepper raised one eyebrow even as she opened her tablet to start taking notes. “What kind of party, sir? Small or large guest list? Time frame?” She was not prepared for his answers.

“Large party I think. Invite the elite of society. And it needs to be as soon as possible... this weekend.”

Pepper was startled and it showed on her face. “This weekend? It’s Thursday, Mr. Stark. That’s not a lot of notice. Venues alone will take time to be vetted and booked -.”

Tony cut Pepper off with an impatient slash of his hand through the air. “I don’t have the luxury of time, Ms. Potts. He’s legal now and I need to act before someone else does. The party is only a courtesy to let society know I’ve made my claim.”

Pepper’s eyes narrowed as she asked, “Exactly what kind of party is this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s face broke out in a smug smirk. “Why Ms. Potts, it’s a wedding party. I’m getting married, now that my chosen Omega has come of age.”

****

Peter finished setting his text books neatly on the provided shelf above the desk and took a step back. As he looked around the single dorm room, he gave a small pleased sigh. A typical dorm room for an Omega, it was more like a small studio apartment as it had its own bathroom and small kitchen space. All meant to give unclaimed Omegas a safe haven for their quarterly heats, away from their Alpha and Beta classmates. Claimed Omegas either lived with their mates and commuted to and from campus, or if both were students then they lived in the provided campus housing suites.

Peter flopped down on his bed, attention turned to the television that was blaring some news story. The commentator was one of those reporters with a bubbling personality, enthusiastically reporting on some societal event.

“And I’m here live, at Stark Towers, where the party of the decade is happening! As you can see, everyone who is anyone is here to celebrate one of the world’s wealthiest Alphas bidding a fond farewell to his bachelorhood!”

The bubbling reporter turned to observe the crowd before her eyes widened in surprise. “And here he is! The Alpha of the hour himself! Tony Stark, how does it feel to be celebrating your pending nuptials?”

The man in question turned to the reporter, his eyes covered in a pair of red tinted shades, a smoldering grin on his lips. As he removed his shades, he answered, “It’s great to see so many people celebrating with me. Really, it is!”

The reporter gave him another blinding smile even as she shot another question at him. “And the question on everyone’s mind - who is the lucky bride or groom? Are they even aware of their impending wedding?”

Tony smirk grew wider as something dark flashed through his eyes. “Well to answer that question, I’d have to say no. In one of the only few times in my life, I’ll be following in my father’s footsteps and kidnapping my groom. So I’m afraid you’ll have to wait with everyone else for an identity reveal, my dear.”

As the reporter tried to weasel more details out of the billionaire Alpha, Peter angrily turned off the television. Grabbing his pillow, he hugged it closely to himself, sulking at life. Tony Stark was a major icon of the world and one of Peter’s secret role models. Peter never would have believed he supported what he had just revealed. Personally, he was disgusted at what Tony Stark had just casually admitted.

Spouse kidnapping.

A disgusting, archaic tradition where the dominant partner, usually an Alpha, kidnapped their spouse to be. First, the dominant partner had to announce to the public their intentions to kidnap their bride or groom. After the public announcement, he or she had 48 hours to actually kidnap their chosen. Once taken, the kidnapper had one week to secure the union, usually by successfully mating with the victim.

There weren’t very many unsuccessful kidnappings throughout history, most victims giving in to society’s view of normal behavior. Sometimes there was outrage, but usually quieted down by the kidnapper later through gifts. In these modern times, most of the victims knew their abductor beforehand, so it wasn’t really a surprise.

Peter objected to the practice in theory. No one he knew personally had been the subject of an unwilling spousal kidnapping. His Uncle Ben had courted his Aunt May and had proposed to her. He then had a mock kidnapping to satisfy societal norms. Peter wasn’t sure how his parents’ union was, but he had been told it was mutual.

If Peter’s future spouse wanted to have a mock kidnapping, he supposed he’d go along with it. However, if he was kidnapped by a complete stranger? Peter shuddered to even think of it. Maybe Tony Stark’s groom to be knew about all of this and the couple was just portraying the societal expectation that being a celebrity entailed.

A notification coming through his phone distracted him from his stormy thoughts. Unlocking the device, he read a text from his best friend Ned, asking if he wanted to grab some dinner. Sending a confirmation back, Peter resolutely shifted all thoughts about Tony Stark and his situation out of his mind.

After all, what did any of it have to do with him?

*****

Tony looked at his extraction team with a shrewd eye. Every single member had been hand picked for this operation. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

He turned to his best friend, James Rhodes. “Honey bear, everything’s set up at the Compound for my week of isolation with my groom?”

He received a nod of affirmation so Tony turned his attention to Steve Rogers. “All right, Captain. You have the details - this needs to go smoothly. I don’t want a single bruise on my mate.”

The blond man rolled his eyes even as he said, “We know, Tony. We’ve only gone over this a million times.”

“Then once more for luck,” came the sharp demand.

“Fine. Clint will be on high, keeping an eye on the target and anyone in the surrounding area, notifying the group when the target is alone. Natasha will be tailing the target from behind. Thor and I will be lying in wait to ambush the target. And Happy will be driving the car, ready to transport the target to the Compound. So the target won’t be spooked, Tony will be waiting in the car. He might have seen the earlier declaration and seeing Tony may cause him to bolt.”

“And Sam will be driving the other car that’ll take us all back to the Tower, where we will wait for the news your groom has accepted your suit,” finished Rhodey.

Sam shook his head as he spoke up, “Man, I don’t know about all of this. Wouldn’t it be easier just to talk to the boy?”

Tony glared at man even as he gritted out, “No, I can’t take the risk. His Aunt prevented me from interacting with him when he was underage.”

“Well, you are much older than he is, Tony.”

The Alpha ignored the comment from the only female in the room. “And now that he is of age, I can’t take the risk someone else might snap him up. I knew he was meant to be mine the first time I saw him years ago. I will not be denied my mate any longer!”

“Okay, okay Tony. Calm down, man! It’s not us you have to convince anyway.”

“That part I’m not worried about,” joked the billionaire.

Natasha rolled her eyes and then looked to the group. “All right, everyone try to keep a low profile. The paparazzi are literally foaming at the mouth because it’s been 24 hours since Tony’s declaration and they haven’t seen movement. They know his time limit like we do. Tony, is your body double ready to occupy the media?”

“Yup, he’s all ready out there leading them in the opposite direction of where we’re going.”

“Good. Then let’s go.”

*****

They came out of nowhere.

Peter had been walking back to his campus dorm from the dining hall, after parting ways with Ned and MJ. The Omega dorms were on the opposite side of campus from the other student dorms and he’d waved off Ned’s offer to walk him to his dorm. In hindsight, he should have taken Ned up on the offer, but at the time he was thinking that there was no need for Ned to have to walk the campus and back.

As he walked along, he noticed that the campus was pretty empty. He didn’t think too much on it though as school wasn’t officially starting for another week or so, and the students were sure to be flooding in over the week. As he was crossing through a parking lot of one of the class buildings, a strong voice called out to him.

“Excuse me, son, but do you happen to have the time?”

Peter stopped to look toward the voice and saw a rather intimidating blond Alpha standing there. Although his hands were nonchalantly tucked into his jeans pockets, he still radiated strength and authority.

Nervously shuffling his feet, some inner sense telling him to keep his distance, Peter glanced at his phone and answered, “Um, it’s almost 8pm.”

The blond man gave him an earnest grin and said, “Thanks son. Thor?”

Just then Peter felt two strong arms clamp around his upper body, keeping his arms pinned to the side. As he gasped and looked over his shoulder, he saw his assailant was another blond man. Peter tried to struggle against the hold, but the other man rushed in and grabbed his legs, lifting his body completely off the ground.

Peter let loose with a yell, even as he futilely attempted to wiggle out of their hold. He barely heard the screeching of tires as a car pulled up beside the three, the door being flung open. Hands grabbed for him as the other two men pushed him into the waiting vehicle.

Peter was shoved into the backseat of a luxury car, the door slamming shut as soon as his feet were clear. He was thrown off balance against the seat as the car peeled away with a screech of tires. As soon as he managed to right himself, he tried to open the door to possibly escape the moving vehicle, but the door wouldn’t open.

Peter pounded on the window, yelling, “Let me out!”

That’s when he felt the prick in his neck.

Whipping around, one of his hands going to his neck automatically, he was just in time to see a man capping a syringe. He gaped at the man, even as his blurring vision recognized him.

“Tony Stark?!”

The man in question gave him a large smile and reached a hand out to card some of Peter’s curls away from his sweaty forehead. He ignored Peter’s flinch backwards as the young man tried to plaster himself against the car door, out of Tony’s reach.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You can call me Tony.”

Peter’s vision swam and the inside of the car began to spin. He realized he was losing consciousness as black spots appeared in his vision and he felt his eyes close. As Peter’s body fell forward, he was caught by a strong pair of arms and held in a loose embrace.

Peter felt his body being moved into a more comfortable position, hands carding through his hair. As he fell asleep, the last thing he heard was, “Sweet dreams, love. When you wake up, we’ll have much to talk about.”

*****

Maybe a part two later.

#starker fanfic #starker #au #fic drabble #abo

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lady-of-the-lotus · 4 years ago

Text

Fractured Ice - Ch. 6/7

Xue Yang whisks a nihilistic Lan Xichen off on a murder roadtrip to raise Xiao Xingchen and Meng Yao from the grave. Because that will solve all of their problems, right? AU where Wei Wuxian never came to Yi City and Xue Yang is still running around post-canon disguised as Xiao Xingchen.

Chang Ping ducks his head slightly. “Of course, my good daozhang. Anything for you.”

“Anything other than putting that crazed monster in the ground, you mean.” Chang Ping blinks, his watery pink-rimmed eyes bulging even farther out of his head.

“I beg your pardon, daozhang?”

“Xue Yang. You let him go.”

XueXiao & XiYao - Rated M - Read on AO3! Tumblr: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 7

A bit of blood in this chapter - brief violence onscreen and a brief graphic aftermath

Ch. 6: meaner than my demons

“I need to make sure it’s truly him,” says Lan Xichen. He stares at the spirit-trapping pouch clutched in his hand. Everything is blurred but the small brown pouch, which stands out starkly in the flickering orange torchlight. “I need to—to—”

“If he’s not in there, he’ll never be, and we have to get out of here.” Xue Yang shoves the heavy stone lid back onto the sarcophagus and steers Lan Xichen out of the tomb. The rain has stopped, and the morning star twinkles brightly through a gap in the clouds. “Fun as this is, we can’t hang around here. Those guards—”

Lan Xichen doesn’t spare a glance at the Nie guards, still lying strewn around the tomb. He’s too absorbed by the spirit-trapping pouch in his hand.

The pouch is warm. Almost pulsing. The throbbing warmth seeps into his cold hands, into his veins, flooding his numbed body with pleasant heat—

“Stop here.” Xue Yang lays a hand on Lan Xichen’s arm when he doesn’t look up. “We’ll change into dry clothes, and then you can try playing Inquiry. I’ll hold him while you change.”

Lan Xichen reluctantly surrenders the spirit-trapping pouch to Xue Yang, who sits on a boulder with the pouch set carefully on his lap, both hands cupped around it to make sure it doesn’t fall. Lan Xichen transforms back into Lan Huan in record time, throwing his hair up in a sloppy knot. Then, upon reflection, he takes the time to do it up properly out of respect for the little brown pouch on Xue Yang’s lap.

He sits cross-legged on the rocky ground as Xue Yang changes. Takes out his guqin, gently plucks a few strings.

The answer is clear, a thousand times stronger than Xiao Xingchen’s agonized murmur:

Meng Yao.

A glowing warmth suffuses Lan Xichen. Meng Yao. He’s always thought of A-Yao by that name, even after he’d received his courtesy name and title. Simple Meng Yao, the man who had risked everything to shelter him when he had nothing. Not Jin Guangyao, not Lianfang-zun, but his Meng Yao, his A-Yao, soft and welcoming and warm and bashful and giving.

And then, I didn’t think you would come for me.

Of course I came for you , he responds, then puts away his guqin out of fear of what A-Yao would respond to that.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been sitting like that, eyes closed, one hand on the guqin, the other on the pouch, until Xue Yang touches his shoulder.

“Sun’s up, Zewu-jun,” he says. “We need to put distance between us and Qinghe. Can’t bring your friend back if we’re getting dragged back to Gusu by a dozen Nie meatheads.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t bother asking where they’re going. Xue Yang’s plan has worked so far. He just follows the delinquent cultivator through the mountains. Practically floats. It’s a different kind of drifting than before, though.

He examines the sensation. It takes a while before he finally realizes that it’s happiness, of a sort.

Rule 70: Do not be overly happy.

He laughs to himself. Xue Yang shoots him a curious look but doesn’t say anything. Uncharacteristically quiet, his friend seems to be lost in his own thoughts.

They meet several Lan cultivators on the road, obviously searching for someone, but they don’t recognize Lan Xichen and Xue Yang in their peasant getups.

“They’d never imagine the great Zewu-jun, fashion icon to thousands, would stoop to this ,” says Xue Yang, flicking a finger at Lan Xichen’s ragged tunic and trousers. They’re sitting in a roadside inn, not as much as a hellhole as they would have preferred, but so far no cultivators have entered. “I do wish you were a bit shorter, though, and still had your beard. Do you think the Lans roped the Nie beefeaters in on their hunt, after all?”

“For you, perhaps, but my uncle would never allow a whisper of my defection to leave the Cloud Recesses. They're probably simply affronted by our attack on the tomb's guards, with you getting the brunt of the blame.”

Xue Yang jerks a thumb in the direction of the qiankun pouch inside Lan Xichen’s tunic. By Xue Yang’s suggestion, he’s stashed the spirit-trapping pouch safely away in the qiankun bag. “Just remember, if I go down, so does he.”

Lan Xichen frowns. “I wouldn’t abandon you.”

“Good. Remember that I have the knowledge you need.”

Lan Xichen puts down his cup of what might be actual tea this time. “I wouldn’t abandon you, whether or not that were the case.”

Xue Yang sneers. “Is that a Lan Clan rule?”

Various elements of loyalty, fidelity, and gratitude are encompassed by a good five dozen rules, but Lan Xichen chooses to ignore that. “It’s my rule. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?”

Xue Yang shrugs, idly picks up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks, examines it as if looking for bugs. “At least not until my usefulness runs out.”

“Xue Yang—”

Xue Yang shrugs again. “Don’t worry, my friend: I will make myself indispensable for as long as possible.”

Lan Xichen wonders just how strong the wine was. Xue Yang doesn’t speak for the rest of the meal.

Despite getting no sleep the night before, Lan Xichen lies awake a long time that night. He can stay awake for days by drawing on his golden core, but he doesn’t need to tonight. His heart is beating too fast for idle slumber , mind racing.

He takes A-Yao’s spirit-trapping out of his qiankun pouch and sets it on the bed beside him at eye-level. Traces the bloody symbols with his finger. Strokes the soft black tassels.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. His voice catches in his throat. “I never should have doubted you. I’ll bring you back. I swear I’ll bring you back…”

* * *

“Where are we going, exactly?” he finally asks Xue Yang on the fourth day. They’re walking through the trees near the main road, keeping out of sight.

“Yueyang. We’ll arrive tomorrow.”

“Yueyang?” Something faint stirs in his memory. “Isn’t that where the Chang Clan lives?”

Xue Yang bows with exaggerated deference. “Zewu-jun is wise indeed.”

Lan Xichen smiles. “Why are we going there?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

“…and?” Dealing with Xue Yang can be maddening sometimes. His flair for the dramatic and love of bantering is at complete odds with how Lan Xichen was taught to hold a conversation.

“You’ll find out once we’re there…” He makes a face when Lan Xichen raises his eyebrows. “All right, we’re going to pay Chang Ping a visit. He has something we want.”

“Something to bring Jin Guangyao back?”

“Wise. Most wise.”

“What about your…friend?”

Xue Yang unconsciously touches his qiankun sleeve. “We’ll get there, in time. But Jin Guangyao is the key.”

“You wouldn’t do anything that might harm Jin Guangyao—”

Xue Yang’s—Xiao Xingchen’s—fine black eyes are large and deer-like. “Zewu-jun—” He stops, as if too taken aback to respond. Instead he shakes his head. “Jin Guangyao’s spirit is whole,” he explains. “Xiao Xingchen’s spirit was shattered. Different methods are needed. Your friend was immersed in demonic cultivation towards the end of this life, and had access to books he didn’t let me near.”

“You think he hid those books?”

“No, but he remembered everything he saw, and I’m certain he knows something that can help Xiao Xingchen.”

Lan Xichen wants to tell him that this is a fragile hook to be hanging his hopes on, but doesn’t dare point that out to him and let it snap. The important thing is that Xue Yang is helping him get A-Yao back. And, he tells himself, he’s not taking advantage of the delinquent cultivator. Once he has A-Yao back, he, Lan Xichen, will do everything in his power to help return Xiao Xingchen to Xue Yang. From everything he’s ever heard about the rogue cultivator, Xiao Xingchen deserves a second chance at life.

“How exactly did it happen, anyway?” Xue Yang asks.

“Did what happen?” Lan Xichen is itching to get to an inn, take out the spirit-trapping pouch, tell A-Yao that they were close, so close to bringing him back—

“Jin Guangyao’s death, of course.”

It's like Xue Yang dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. Lan Xichen doesn’t realize he’s stopped walking until Xue Yang doubles back for him.

“His death?” Lan Xichen repeats.

“I need to know these things if we’re going to bring him back. The kind of death might affect the kind of spell we use, and besides, you don’t want me saying the wrong thing once he’s back, do you? I casually mention honey and find out he died after being stung to death by a horde of angry hornets—”

“You must already know what happened.” Lan Xichen finds that his feet are moving, but it’s as if someone outside him is making him walk, talk, breathe. He’s doubly desperate to sit down and take out A-Yao, but he and Xue Yang agreed not to handle the pouches unless within the safety of a locked room.

Xue Yang trots along beside him, voice low and sympathetic. “I know this is a painful subject, Zewu-jun, and believe me when I say I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to, but there are too many things that can go wrong.”

“He moved.” Lan Xichen’s voice is flat and toneless. “He moved.”

“Moved to…Koi Tower?”

“Moved. I told him not to move. I warned him. I told him not to move. I warned him. I warned him. Then—then that—that bastard —”

“Nie Huaisang?”

“—he told me A-Yao had moved. Made me think A-Yao was going to hurt me, and I—I believed him. Believed A-Yao would do me harm.” Lan Xichen’s voice is so thick he can barely push the words past his lips. “I stabbed him through the heart. Straight through the heart.”

“We ought to stop back in at Qinghe when we’re done,” says Xue Yang, “and take care of that fan-waving little plum blossom.”

“I told you, we’re not killing Nie Huaisang. Or anyone.”

Xue Yang tilts his head. “You mean anyone else .”

Lan Xichen has stopped walking again. “What do you mean?”

There’s something catlike about Xue Yang that he’s never noticed before, but his companion’s voice couldn’t be softer, couldn’t be gentler, almost as if he’s impersonating Xiao Xingchen again. “Nothing, Zewu-jun,” he says, bowing. “I was just thinking of Jin Guangyao. My apologies. It was uncalled for. ”

Lan Xichen doesn’t remember much after that, too focused on the thought of what is to come. They must have had a conversation about stopping, but he can’t recall it as he later lies on his cot, stroking A-Yao’s soft warm spirit-trapping pouch. Can’t recall eating the evening meal, or coming up the stairs, or taking off his tunic or shoes or letting his hair down, but he must have at some point.

He presses his forehead to the spirit-trapping pouch on the pillow beside him. Inside is A-Yao—Meng Yao. Not Jin Guangyao. Not Lianfang-zun.

Meng Yao.

Not the man he had stabbed through the heart with twelve inches of ice-cold steel, but Meng Yao.

It takes all of his strength to turn away from the pouch and roll over onto his back, limbs filled with mortar. Who is he fooling? No matter what name A-Yao went by, all four of them were the same person.

He had killed Meng Yao. Not Jin Guangyao, not Lianfang-zun. Meng Yao.

His Meng Yao.

He’d believed everyone’s slander, he’d believed A-Yao’s own words of self-reprobation, he’d believed that A-Yao—A-Yao!—could have ever meant him harm.

“But never have I ever thought about doing you harm!”

He dreams that night of floating, not quite flying. Floating over a river of blood streaming from his sword, with A-Yao’s hat bobbing in the current.

He wakes up numb. Dresses, fixes his hair with nerveless fingers. Gets a shave. Is too nervous to eat. Doesn’t hear a word Xue Yang says as they leave the inn and head down the road towards the Chang Manor.

“I’ve been thinking,” says Xue Yang. “—Zewu-jun? Are you listening?”

With a tremendous effort, Lan Xichen turns his attention towards Xue Yang.

“I’ve been wondering if you should dress in your Zewu-jun getup, or not. I figure that—”

“Yes.”

“Yes—?”

Lan Xichen doesn’t know how to explain that he wants to look presentable for A-Yao. He remembers how Xue Yang had put on his best clothes for Inquiry at the Cloud Recesses and hopes he’ll figure it out on his own.

Xue Yang smiles. “I understand. But on the off-chance something goes wrong, we don’t want it known that Zewu-jun was there.”

A surge of desperation. “I won’t wear my ribbon or give my real name. Although—you’re only getting in on the strength of Xiao Xingchen’s name, and the people after us know we’re traveling together.”

Xue Yang sighs. “I suppose they would have figured we came this way sooner or later, after tonight.”

“Is whatever you're planning absolutely necessary? If it will give us away…”

An odd look creeps over Xue Yang’s face. “It’s Chang Ping or nobody.” He turns away slightly. “Do what you want about your clothes.”

In the end, Lan Xichen puts on the best robes he brought, dressing while hidden in a copse of cypress trees up the road from the Chang Manor while Xue Yang puts on the green-and-white robes he arrived at the Cloud Recesses in.

They’re let into the manor soon after Xue Yang sends in Xiao Xingchen’s name. The grounds are dark and empty, very quiet and very still.

“Where is everyone?” Xue Yang asks the servant as they’re led through the courtyard into the discussion hall.

“The great Phoenix Mountain hunt, daozhang.”

The servant’s words pierce Lan Xichen’s numb shell. If Chang Ping isn’t here, their entire trip was for nothing—

“And, of course, Clan Leader Chang avoids Koi Tower as much as possible since that sickening miscarriage of justice,” says Xue Yang.

The servant ducks her head. Xue Yang winks at Lan Xichen.

He must have known Chang Ping would be mostly alone, thinks Lan Xichen, and he knows this should alarm him but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Please don’t tell anyone else about our visit,” Xue Yang tells the servant. “It is of a highly sensitive nature.”

“It’s just my husband and I right now, daozhang,” bows the servant. “Clan Leader Chang is not a fussy man.”

“Or a rich man,” says Xue Yang, glancing around the room after the servant hustles out. “This place was a lot nicer sixteen years ago.”

“What are you going to do to him, exactly?”

Xue Yang’s face is serene, but there’s something decidedly unquiet flickering in his eyes. “Nothing he doesn’t deserve.”

Lan Xichen winces. “Yes, but—”

Xue Yang unwinds the bandages covering his hand and rips off his glove with his teeth.

His left hand is a mass of scars, as if the original wounds that had once covered it had been badly infected at some point. The delicate bones along the back had healed all wrong, crooked and painful-looking. Worst of all is his little finger. It’s missing from the first joint, a ragged stump, looking as if—as if it had been bitten off with small weak teeth.

“He did this to you?”

Xue Yang is staring straight ahead. “I was seven.”

“Xue Yang, I’m—”

“Don’t.” He tugs his glove back on. “I don’t care about my hand anymore. But he’s the one responsible for Xiao Xingchen’s death—”

Chang Ping bustles in before Lan Xichen can ask questions. “Xiao Xingchen! I did not expect to see the daozhang again.” He makes ridiculously large gestures as he bows, sleeves flapping. He’s small and fat and, despite what the servant had said, quite fussy-looking. He has a rather unfortunate beard and mustache combination and reminds Lan Xichen of Wangji’s pet rabbits. “And—ah—Zewu-jun! What an unexpected honor!”

That’s right. Chang Ping tends to avoid Cultivation Conferences, but they’d met once before at Lotus Pier.

Chang Ping seats himself on his seat of office. His eyes dart to Lan Xichen’s face, observing the lack of forehead ribbon, but he’s too polite to ask about it. “What can your humble servant do for Zewu-jun and the esteemed daozhang?”

“Funny Clan Leader Chang should ask,” says Xue Yang, calm again. He bows low. His glove is still exposed, but he’s in full Xiao Xingchen mode, down to his posture and the way he holds his head. “There is something I need.”

Chang Ping ducks his head slightly. “Of course, my good daozhang. Anything for you.”

“Anything other than putting that crazed monster in the ground, you mean.”

Chang Ping blinks, his watery pink-rimmed eyes bulging even farther out of his head. “I beg your pardon, daozhang?”

“Xue Yang. You let him go.”

Chang Ping’s obsequious smile freezes on his face. “I beg your pardon?”

Lan Xichen senses something different in Xue Yang’s voice. It’s Xiao Xingchen’s voice—there’s not a trace of Xue Yang’s teasing, overly casual tones—but there’s a harshness to it belonging to neither Xue Yang or his usual Xiao Xingchen impression. A metallic tang, a brittle bitterness.

“You let Xue Yang go,” Xue Yang repeats. He’s slowly walking— gliding —back and forth in front of Chang Ping, a leopard stalking its prey. There’s a certain poise, a slight arch to his back, a grace to his step that Xue Yang perhaps intentionally lacks when he’s not Xiao Xingchen. “And do you know what that lowlife bastard did?”

Chang Ping licks his lips nervously. “Daozhang, you know I had no choice! My clan was in ruins; I needed the Jin Clan’s support—”

Shuanghua flies through the air, plunging deep into the chair cushion beside Chang Ping’s head. “ ‘No choice’?”

Chang Ping shrinks away from the blade. “I—I had a duty to my clan!”

“What clan? They were all dead! Wiped out by that maniac!”

“Not—not all—”

Xue Yang is up on the dais, retrieving Xiao Xingchen’s sword. At Chang Ping’s words, he grabs the clan leader by the collar and throws him down the dais’ steps, floating gracefully down after him like a flower petal on the breeze.

“Do you know what that monster did?” he repeats. His foot is on Chang Ping’s bulbous Adam’s apple. “Slaughtered my partner’s entire temple, blinded him for no reason other than his own petty revenge and amusement—”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I had a duty to my clan—”

Xue Yang stabs down with Shuanghua, skewering Chang Ping’s hand. “You wanted to be a clan leader—” He twists the blade, tearing the wound open, separating the bones in the back of the clan leader's hand.

Tears of pain stream down Chang Ping’s face. “I had to honor my father—”

“By setting free the man who exterminated his family?” Xue Yang walks around the quivering man, trailing the bloody sword tip over the stone floor with a scraping sound that sets Lan Xichen’s teeth on edge. “Not that he deserved your honor. Your father was as much a monster as Xue Yang. Chang Cian’s entire bloodline deserves to be wiped out!”

“Please! Please don’t! I did what I thought best—”

“You did what you thought best for you.” Xue Yang crouches before Chang Ping, grabs him by the throat and jerks the cowering clan leader’s head up so he’s forced to meet his eye. “You blinded my partner,” he says in a flat, toneless voice. “I gave him my own eyes, and then I met him , and because I couldn’t see I let him stay, and it’s all your fault— everything that happened; all your fault —”

Chang Ping’s face is a mask of fear and confusion. “I—I think you might have the wrong—”

“It’s all your fault, you and your whole tainted bloodline—”

Lan Xichen slips out of the room. He knows Chang Ping must be screaming, but Xue Yang obviously learned a silencing spell while at the Cloud Recesses, because Lan Xichen feels an energy barrier springing up around the room as soon as he exits and hears nothing.

The servant from earlier is waiting nearby.

“I need writing materials,” he tells her.

Bowing, she leads him to what appears to be Chang Ping’s study.

Lan Xichen settles down before the table. “Please go tell your husband to pack your bags. Return in ten minutes for the letter. Thank you.”

“Zewu-jun?”

“I discussed it with your master. Hurry!”

She hustles out.

Lan Xichen picks up the brush and removes a folded section of paper from the carved wooden stationary box on the desk.

The letter is ready when the servant returns with her husband and a little girl, traveling packs slung over their shoulders.

“Go straight to the Cloud Recesses in Gusu. Deliver this letter to the Chief Cultivator, and the Chief Cultivator only. This letter is for Lan Qiren, and Lan Qiren only. Take this as well.” He passes them a purse full of silver pieces. “Speak to nobody along the way. Now go!”

“With all due respect, Zewu-jun, we ought to see our master first—”

“If you do not go now,” Lan Xichen says, “you will never leave this place at all.”

He doesn’t think they quite pick up on what he means, but they hurry out. He follows them, making sure they leave, waiting outside the manor as they disappear up the road leading to Yueyang.

He remains on the side of the road for a bit, breathing in the crisp night air. The stars are particularly bright tonight, the moon full. He has a sudden urge to strip off his robes, stretch out middle of the road and bathe in the starlight. Be fresh and clean and glowing when A-Yao sees him again.

His heart beats faster at the thought.

A-Yao.

For reasons he can’t explain he feels suddenly like walking down the road, walking until his legs give out, walking off the edge of the world, leaving everything in this one behind, dissipating into a cloud of starlight.

Ridiculous. Just because he let Xue Yang execute a man who thoroughly deserved it is no reason to feel—feel unworthy of A-Yao’s return.

He turns quickly and heads back into the manor.

“A-Yao. A-Yao.” He repeats the name to himself, focusing on the word’s warmth on his lips. “A-Yao. A-Yao…”

“Not if you don’t get back in here.” Xue Yang is leaning against the door to the ancestral hall, himself again. “Where did you run off to?” He’s grinning broadly, eyes bright. Too bright. Shuanghua gleams in his hand, wet with blood. “The main event is about to begin.”

* * *

Chang Ping deserved it, Lan Xichen reminds himself. Over and over. Chang Ping deserved it. Chang Ping deserved it…

The clan leader’s naked body is hanging from ropes attached to a ceiling beam, a bucket set directly beneath his feet. The body is swaying slightly, as if Xue Yang gave it a playful push before going to wait for Lan Xichen. The corpse is a mass of pulpy red and oozing pink, exposed bone and ruptured fat and flayed muscle, an inhuman horror glistening wetly in the lamplight.

Chang Ping’s eyes are missing.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself.” Xue Yang is cleaning his blade with Chang Ping’s robes. “Considering how out of practice I am.”

“Did you have to—have to—”

“Give him the full experience?” Xue Yang laughs. His laugh is a bit too high and a bit too long. “I needed that resentful energy, my friend. Do you think I enjoyed torturing the good Chang Ping?”

Lan Xichen looks at Xue Yang’s left hand.

Xue Yang wags a finger at him. “What his father did to me had nothing to do with any of this. But believe me when I say he was just as guilty.”

“His father? I thought it was Chang Ping who…” Lan Xichen remembers what Xue Yang said about Chang Ping’s involvement in Xiao Xingchen’s death. “Never mind. What do you need the resentful energy for?”

Xue Yang points to the floor beneath the swinging corpse. Drawn in blood on the floor is a large, complicated array, with a new-looking spirit-trapping pouch near the bucket. “Three guesses. Now, I’ll be back in just a minute...Have you seen that servant woman?”

“I sent the servants away.”

The grin slips from Xue Yang’s face. “You what?”

“I sent them away.”

Xue Yang is staring fixedly at a spot just behind Lan Xichen. “And why did you do that? Pang of conscience?”

“I needed someone to deliver a letter to my brother. That’s all.”

“Suicide note?”

“Suicide is forbidden—”

Xue Yang jerks a thumb at the corpse. “So is murder.”

Lan Xichen swallows hard. “I could never do that to my family, or demean the gift of life given to me.”

Xue Yang keeps staring at that invisible spot, then bursts out laughing again. “We’ll get there eventually,” he says, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?”

Xue Yang pats his arm. “Not the suicide, my friend. Don’t worry. I want you whole and healthy. I’m talking about your sticking your nose in with the servants. It was my own fault. I thought you…ah, never mind. We have time. We have time.”

Lan Xichen moves out of arm-patting range. “Time for what?”

“Time to bring back your friend, of course .” Xue Yang sheaths Xiao Xingchen’s sword in the scabbard strapped to his back. “The pouch, please.”

“You mean—”

Xue Yang is grinning again. “I told you this would be worth it.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t remember him having said that, or given him any forewarning about what he’d done to Chang Ping, but he’s too nervous to think about it.

Xue Yang takes A-Yao’s spirit-trapping pouch from him delicately, holding it with as much care as if Xiao Xingchen himself had been inside the pouch. “Your hand.”

Lan Xichen extends his hand. Xue Yang uses his needlessly large knife to prick open the now-healed little wound he’d made back at the tomb, using his blood to create a number of talismans, which he hangs on Chang Ping’s body.

Then he picks up the new spirit-trapping pouch from the floor and takes a curved, palm-sized chunk of black-and-gray metal out of his sleeve. He grips it in the same hand as the new spirit-trapping pouch and A-Yao’s pouch, black smoke pouring off the metal piece and curling around the pouches.

Lan Xichen’s eyes widen. “That’s—”

Xue Yang puts a playful finger to his lips. “We know what it is.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry. I don’t use it often enough to go the way of Wen Ruohan or Wei Wuxian. I don’t want to lose my mind any more than the next person wants me to.”

“But—”

“Do you want me to continue or not?”

Lan Xichen ducks his head and steps back.

The black smoke twines around Xue Yang’s fingers. He sends the chunk of metal at the body, drawing a rapid-fire sequence of glowing red symbols in the air, then opens the new spirit-trapping pouch.

A blast of resentful energy escapes the bag, so potent that Lan Xichen is sent flying across the room. So Xue Yang had trapped Chang Ping’s resentful energy in the new pouch—

Xue Yang reaches for the metal, releasing a second burst of dark energy so powerful that Lan Xichen loses consciousness.

He awakens almost immediately. Sits up and looks around, heart beating wildly.

Xue Yang is kneeling before Chang Ping’s body, not in an act of contrition but as if using the…the chunk of metal had taken more out of him than expected.

But Lan Xichen barely notices him. His eyes are riveted on the naked, shivering figure lying curled up inside the array.

Lan Xichen rises, trembling, and takes a few shaky steps towards the small white figure.

“…A-Yao?”

Up Next: The final chapter! Things come to a head.

Or: The night sky sure is pretty and stars are cool.

Chapter 7

#Xue Yang and Lan Xichen pay Chang Ping a friendly visit in a desperate bid to bring A-Yao back.#Or: Don’t try this at home kids #Fractured Ice #Lan Xichen #mdzsnet #xue yang #xiyao #xuexiao #the untamed #cql #mdzs

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satsuki2406 · 5 years ago

Text

OPEN SKY Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"...And never, ever forget that, your dreams are the wings that'll help you fly."

(L/N)(Y/N) has always been forced to live according to others' expectations. As a member of the powerful and influential (L/N) Family, she has had to live with the heavy weight of seeing others write her destiny with no choice but just obey. But when (Y/N) finally decides to risk it all to take the only opportunity to regain the control of her own life, everything ends up going horribly wrong. Surrendered and disappointed, she receives one last chance to prove to herself and to U.A, along with some unexpected help that this was not a crazy and meaningless waste of time.

Maybe this plan could work after all...

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of sex, My poor attempt of comedy, family dysfunctionality, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: Failure

Chapter 2: Sometimes the Greatest Hero of All is a Good Friend

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

3-Her Start

The weekend you spent with your best friend was full of good memories and laughter. You recovered your self-trust and conviction to keep going. But as blissful as it was it quickly came to an end. Before you knew it, it was Monday again, which means school, fortunately, this was the last week before graduation, even if you mom forced you to go to that insipid private academy in Tokyo, you'll keep chasing your aspirations no matter what. It was still I little bit cold but the weather was slowly changing as the spring got closer. Over your school uniform, you were wearing the school uniform’s coat that had their logo embroidered and your fluffy (f/c) scarf to keep you warm on your way to the school door.

In the blink of an eye, you and Momo already got to the shoe lockers to change into your respective uwabaki.* While changing your shoes a thought came to your mind, you wanted to touch the matter but didn't know how without making things awkward. "Hey Momo, your test, for the recommended students, you already had it right?"

A little taken aback by your comment Momo hesitated a little before answering unsure. "Y-Yeah, that's correct, I wasn't sure if I could tell you, you know..."

"Please don't feel bad about sharing your successes with me, I would be more than happy to hear how it went for you, you're my friend and I feel happy that you're one step closer to your dream, after all, you also want to be a hero, just like me. You were nice enough to spend the last weekend with me to make me feel better I didn't even ask you once how was it for you, I'm a pampered brat, aren’t I?"

Momo smiled sweetly at you in understanding. "What about if I fill you out on the details of my day at U.A during lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan."

🍱🍱🍱

"Alright ladies this is all for today, there are another 5 minutes before the bell rings. So, you're allowed to socialize in the meantime, please let's keep things calm and low volume please."

"Hey, Momo!~ I've got an idea! They are showing a really good movie right now! Do you want to see it with me?"

"I'll love to, but my mother requested my presence at home as soon as school is finished, my chauffeur is already waiting for me outside, so, unfortunately, I see myself unable to go. But aren't you still grounded?"

"Oh, right, I forgot it..." You puffed off your cheeks in annoyance.

Just in cue, a small vibration came from your skirt pocket adverting you of an incoming message.

'Oh, is Nobu-san, I wonder what happened?'

Good afternoon (Y/N)-sama, I wanted to notify you beforehand that this morning you received two letters; one of them is from the Tokyo's Science Academy, probably respecting your upcoming enrollment.

'Ugh, of course...'

Regarding the second letter, the U.A’s crew is way competent and faster than we thought, I made sure to put the envelope under one of your bed pillows, please make sure to check it out as soon as you arrive home so Xiù-sama won't notice it. I already sent the chauffeur to pick you up as soon as possible.

"."

".."

"..."

"...."

"....."

"WhAaAt?!"

"(L/N)-san! I strongly urge you to refrain from shouting in class!"

"S-sorry, Tanaka-sensei" The slight giggles of your classmates could be heard, but it was short-lived thanks to the shrill sound of the school bell announcing the end of the school day.

"(Y/N) are you ok? You look a bit pale. Something happened at home?" Momo asked, but unfortunately for your friend the last of your worries was explain yourself. Without giving it too much of a thought you took your school bag and burst out the class."SorryMomonotimetoexplainseeyoutomorrowbyeeee!!"

Before she could even understand what you just said, Momo couldn't do anything more than see you disappear among the crowd flooding the halls.

"What in heaven just happened?"

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

After sprinting to the school gate, you could spot in the distance a black limo, Sasaki-san, the same chauffeur that brought your mom to U.A that fateful afternoon one week ago, was waiting outside the car, straight as a lamppost with a serious almost bored look on his face. After you finally approached him, he lightly bowed his head and greeted you. "Good afternoon, (Y/N)-sama, I hope you had a pleasant day" His tome was monotone and robotic, almost like he just repeated a script that had learned out of habit at this point. "Good afternoon Sasaki-san, I did thank you, and yourself?"

“Lovely indeed” he said almost sarcastically and opened the car's door for you. You quickly made your way in and he closed the door behind you.

Lost in your thoughts time passed faster than you imagined. Before you could notice a glimpse of your house appeared among the trees. The imposing structure made its way through the vast gardens that adorned its surroundings.

You wanted to just get there and finally get the closure you needed about this whole situation, leave your guilt and disappointment behind so you could start over again and move forward to your goal in a more positive note. Up to your room was a blur, you think that maybe a couple of maids greeted you on your way but you were too busy to notice or care, did you even take your shoes off at the genkan*? Who knows, who cares.

You opened your door desperately, closing and locking it to avoid being interrupted. Fixing your eyes on the exact place your fate laid made your heart race like never before, you started walking there slowly, almost cautiously, to sprint with all your might, throwing yourself at the bed and tossing the soft obstacles in your way to find in the middle, a crisp white envelope with a red wax seal, with the iconic logo printed on it. Dread and uncertainty invaded you, were you ready for this? What if they think you were not hero material after all? ‘No! let's just rip the bandit off at once and get over this already’. With a surge of newfound courage, you opened the envelope, tearing the seal apart in the process. Once it was open you could find a letter and a round metal object inside, you took it in your hand to analyze it closer but suddenly a bright light was shooted from its center, startling you and letting it fall obstreperously on the floor.

"Ahhh!"

The light then elongated and shaped itself into some kind of screen, showing what looks to be some kind of small white animal. "Greetings, young lady! My name is Nezu, the one who could be a mouse or a dog or a bear but the only important thing is...I'm the Principal!"

"T-The Principal?!"

"Very well then, I assume that you would prefer me to go right to the point, you must be anxious right now" You gulped nervously and nodded your head as he could see you. "In your written exam you got an outstanding score of 87! Well done!"

'At least I did something right' You thought melancholically.

"But..."

'Here it comes'

"...Unfortunately, you weren't that successful during your practical exam, in the end, you only earned 31 points, that, as you must know, is not enough to approve this test, since the minimal score is 45"

'I knew it...'

Your vision started to get blurred due to the fat tears that started to accumulate in your eyes. You knew this would happen, but that didn't make it less frustrating.

“However, there’s something that especially caught my attention, and although I’m not a doctor or any medicine specialist by any means I noticed you looked a little off, sick perhaps.Your movements looked sluggish, your breathing seem even more labored than it would have been in the situation you were in not to mention you passed out in the middle of the exam.”

“You’ll see, here at U.A we take special care of the whole process involved in our admission trials, not only to make sure that every single step is performed correctly, the rules are followed and the safety measures compiled but also to prevent the usual improper practices like fraud and cheating, reason why we had installed thousands of cameras with the propose to keep a close eye on all of you.”

'Wow, U.A really goes over the top about everything' You sweatdropped.

"That's the reason why after analyzing your performance carefully, the teaching staff and myself were awed when we notice that indeed you were straining yourself and even managed to save one of the applicants of the attack of a three-pointer, with the last of your strength you pushed him far away from danger knowing the little time you had and your deteriorated condition, you sacrificed yourself for the wellbeing of a stranger, without hesitation"

"Save? But I thought I could do anything at all!-"

"There's a phrase that says that we rise by lifting others, thanks to your selfless help, this young man you saved could complete his test and also had the time and strength enough to get your back after you blacked out. He was also nice enough to handle you to Recovery Girl's capable hands. As you could see, you received some extra points in your final score, these were Rescue Points, a panel of judges conformed by the teachers watch closely these battles and award this kind of heroic gestures, which boosted your original score of 14 points."

"And is because of your heroic spirit that I'm here, in front of you, to make you an offer.” Your breathing hitched, your eyes opened like saucers and you could swear that your heart stopped for a second.

“We of course never do this kind of exceptions, a once in a lifetime opportunity per se, but I, the Principal, had decided to give you a chance to start again, it may be more competitive than the first test you took but, what is the life of a hero without a good challenge?"

"A-A second chance?!" Your teary eyes widened at this revelation. Was U.A, the U.A High School, not only seeing the potential in you but also wanting to give you another chance?!

'This is so crazy!' You thought tearing up.

"Usually some students, as a precautionary measure apply for both the Hero Course and the General Studies Course, in case they fail to get in the first one, if they meet the necessary requirements could hit a spot in the latter one, with the hopes of competing internally for one of the coveted positions in our prestigious Heroism Department...."

"God! What I didn't think of that?! Like a security net that will catch you in case you fall, clever..." You pondered

"As you well know you did not opt for this, but we had decided unanimously to make a space for you in the General Studies Course as your second chance and a fresh start here, at U.A."

"As I mentioned before, the competition is more ferocious internally because of the really small quantity positions, sometimes there's only one transferred student or not transfers at all, so you must work hard because you need at least 85% of approval from the teachers to get into the Hero course."

"So, I need to make merits to get in, I wonder how though-"

"You must be wondering, how to get that approval and enter the world of your dreamed career?! Let me enlighten you then! There are several ways to do this but the most common and effective is..."

"...Is?!"

"Is...!"

"The U.A Sports Festival! The annual competition that Japan is so crazy about that forgot about the Olympic Games and where everybody can take a look at the future and witness the rising of their future heroes! And of course the perfect place for you to show what you're made of! The U.A Sports Festival not only is a great chance for the Hero Course pupils to show their abilities, but for the ones who were left behind, that they also have a lot to offer, and a chance that I'm sure you won't waste at all."

"I won't!"

"So please, let us know what you think, We already see inmense potential on you, we think-no, we believe that you will not disappoint. All the important information, forms and consent letters are attached and listed inside the envelope, if you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact us at our website www.uahigh.com.jp/newstudentexperience to chat live with one of our representatives or call us at 1-800-UAHIGHJ (1-800-824-4445) or drop by at our headquarters in U.A. Remember that the due date to send the forms with your parents' authorization and uniform measurements and specifications is March 25th!"

"Oh my God, I got in... I GOT IN!!! Yes, I did it!" You then started to jump on your bed carried by the excitement, then a little detail crossed your mind. "Crap! My mom would never sign the authorization form! She'll rather take off her own eyes than do that! I don't want to involve dad in this, he's been receiving mom's colder shoulder lately and he looks kinda depressed, just remember the fight hey had that night give me the hives. What can I do? How can I-"

"This device will self-destruct in 10 seconds!"

"...What."

"10!"

"9!"

"Oh God, Oh God No! WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!!"

"8!"

As best as you could you quickly jumped off your bed and hid inside your walk-in closet closing and locking the door behind you. "Was it that necessary to make it explode?!" You closed your eyes and covered your ears as waiting for some kind of impact.

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"..."

"Just kidding! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"..."

"WHAAAAT?!"

"Excuse me (Y/N)-sama? Are you ok?" One of the maids asked while knocking your door. You ran out of the closet and threw all evidence of your recent conversation with the fury Principal under your bed.

"Y-Yes! I'm fine! P-Perfectly fine!"

"I heard some screams and voices inside; do you have any guest? Do you want me to bring some refreshments?" Immediately you opened the door and were faced with the maid that you liked the least, she was a middle-aged woman who always drove herself in a hypocritical and double-face kind of way.

You could see from pretty far away that she didn't like you the least, looking her in the eyes was enough to know, the resentment and indifference were palpable. For her, you were nothing more than a spoiled filthy rich brat and that was more than enough to hate you. She also was a notable gossipmonger and was of general knowledge among the service crew that she could not keep a secret for dear life, which your mother took advantage of to monitor you and the house in general when she was absent. All in exchange of a juicy bonus in her weekly check.

"There's nobody with me Uwasaki-san, I was watching some YouTube videos, and an ad came out, a really loud one." You opened your door a little more to show her, she peeked into your room a little to look closer, everything was in order, except for the dropped pillows and a panda plush, it was just like you said, all she could find was a flat screen with a paused video showing in it.

She gave you a skeptical look first before convincing herself you were saying the truth and gave you one of her infamous fake smiles. "I see, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to let me know, I'll be close by fixing one of the guest's rooms."

"Oh, who's coming?" You asked, half trying to diffuse the awkwardness, half out of truly curiosity.

"Kaguya-sama, she asked Xiù-sama for advice in one of her university projects, Chemistry I think"

'It makes sense, with the kind of quirk she has, chemistry was always one of her strengths'

"I see."

"Alright, if you excuse me, I'll be taking my leaving."

After this, she turned and walk in the direction of the guest's rooms mumbling complains about how slow this day has been so far, with nothing interesting to report, not juicy scandal to uncover and how she hoped that the rest of the week could deliver something better. As you heard her steps get lost in the immensity of the hallway, checking she was gone for sure, you closed your door leaning your back on it while you slowly slide to the floor.

'That was close!, I've never been happier to forget to turn the tv off before going to school, I must be careful, I have to find a way to convince them to let me go, after the second chance I received, I can't back up, I don't want to. It's decided then! I’ll go to U.A no matter what.'

"Hmm... So, U.A? Maybe get you out of my way would be easier than I thought, dear cousin."

*Uwabaki (上履き): They are a type of Japanese shoes worn indoors at home, school or certain companies and public buildings where street shoes are prohibited.

*Genkan (玄関): are traditional areas for houses, apartments or buildings. It is usually located inside the building directly in front of the door. The primary function of the genkan is to leave your shoes before entering the main part of a house or building.

-The word 'Uwasa' (噂) means gossip combined with the kanji 'Ki' (機) or machine forms the word Rumor or Gossip Machine (噂機) Uwasaki.

-I'm learning Japanese on my own, so I thought it could be interesting and fun to try to construct some (Last)names inspired in the oc’s quirks and personality just like Horikoshi does. As I said I'm a beginner and all the feedback is welcome! If you have suggestions or corrections let me know! I'm open to learning! 😊

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@alex-sulli Hope you like it ~\(≧▽≦)/~

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