#and that's not to say she can't express herself on stage – but I think maybe people are over-empathizing in a way that's sensationalizing

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

not to parasocial on main but I Am Worried About Her!

[oofthwoods]

DEBUTANTE! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: derived from the french language, meaning “a first performance or showing.” the original word debutante referred to a new actress making her first appearance on the stage. or, the one where dreams come true in bahrain.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: just a little bonus, but i picture jasper as kingsley ben-adir (secret invasion, barbie). if this is the first work of mine you're checking, reader is a driver for porsche and the daughter of rubens barrichello!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 5.5k

NO ONE ASKED HER A QUESTION IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.

Naturally, there were many questions about her. How did the drivers feel about a woman joining their ranks on the track? What were their thoughts on the growing number of female fans who were tuning in to watch Formula One, possibly due to the popularity of the documentary Drive to Survive or the historic moment of having the first female driver in decades?

She wasn't sure if this was better or worse than she anticipated. She vividly recalled her first press conference last year when she was still driving for ART Grand Prix. They asked her ridiculous questions like whether it was professional to wear skirts in the paddock (yes), who the most attractive driver was (herself, obviously), and even if her father was disappointed that she reached a milestone in motorsport before her older brother (Dudu, who raced with their father in Brazilian Stock Series. And no, he had already made it clear he was proud of both of them).

In the first few minutes, she assumed it was because she was a rookie. But then Oscar Piastri answered a fair share of questions while looking at her as if he didn't understand why people were treating her like an invisible presence. She would shrug her shoulders and the australian reluctantly answered reporters' inquiries.

She was sandwiched between Lewis, who seemed impatient as time dragged on without any questions directed towards her, and Max Verstappen, who quickly responded to his own questions and showed his eagerness to leave. Two rookies, two world champions, but only three drivers deemed important enough for interviews.

The world-renowned champion's frustration peaked when asked about his recent vacation activities.

"Is this a joke?" he asked. "Do you really want to know what I did on my vacation more than asking her interesting questions?" He gestured towards the girl beside him.

"It's alright, Lewis-"

"With all due respect, Hamilton," one of the reporters interjected with a sarcastic smirk on his face. "I can't imagine what kind of questions we could ask Miss Barrichello besides her makeup preferences or favorite clothing brands."

"How about the fact that I won four championships in a row as a rookie?" She responded with a fake sweet smile plastered on her face. She could accept to be ignored, but she refused to be underestimated. "Or maybe any questions about Porsche joining the grid this year?"

"I don't think winning a championship by such a small margin of points is anything to be praised." The reporter retorted. His expression implied that he wasn't expecting the young girl to comfort him, but he couldn't hold back.

"Really? So we should just say that the battle between Max and Lewis in 2021-" she indicated towards them "-was nothing worth celebrating? Such an uneventful year for this sport."

Verstappen leaned forward, observing the interaction between the girl and the reporter. This press conference just became much more interesting.

"Strong words from someone who has never stepped foot in a race car." He chimed in, agreeing with the youngest person in the room.

"That's not what I meant." The reporter stuttered, noticing the security chief slowly approaching him. The middle-aged man was one of many security guards in the paddock that had known the driver since she was a child, and she knew that one look in his direction and the man would be escorted out.

"Of course, of course," she replied sarcastically. "You mean it's not worth celebrating because a woman won, right? Please, if you're going to insult me, at least try to make it believable. Or better yet, don't speak if you have no idea what you're talking about"

The tension in the room was palpable as another reporter spoke up, "But Y/n, let's be real here. The races were mostly dominated by your teammate, Frederik Vesti or runner-up Felipe Drugovich. Your victories were purely tactical."

She leaned back in her chair with a smug smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? Yet somehow I managed to come out on top every time."

Verstappen nodded in agreement, "She's definitely got a point there."

The press room fell into an intense quiet, causing y/n to regret her decision to do this interview. She knew that this type of situation would become more common as her fame grew in the coming year. She also understood that Lewis would be praised for defending her while she would face criticism for simply standing up for herself against a man who was only doing his job.

The silence was broken by a female journalist in the back, hidden behind the larger, more muscular bodies of her male counterparts. But y/n could never mistake that blonde hair for anyone else. Mariana Becker was a veteran sports reporter, an icon in Brazilian journalism, and a role model for any woman breaking into a male-dominated field.

“I wish I had raised my hand earlier; I didn't realize it would take so long for someone to ask you a question,” she chuckled. "I don't think anyone will object to two questions, right?" The woman looked around the room, and the other interviewers avoided making eye contact with the veteran.

"So, y/n, you've been asked countless times about being a woman in a male-dominated world and the difficulties you face because of it. However, with such a successful junior career full of records, I honestly don't see the need to ask that question again. Instead, I'd like to focus on the positive aspects. What does it mean to you knowing that a new generation of girls can look up to you as an inspiration and be motivated to pursue their dreams?"

The girl's face lit up with gratefulness for the refreshing question and relief that she wouldn't have to answer the same question she had already answered countless times before.

"It's incredibly inspiring for me as well. Growing up in this environment, surrounded by racing cars, I was also discouraged from pursuing this career. But I can only imagine how much more difficult it must have been for young girls who were ridiculed just for dreaming of driving a go-kart. To know that I can play a role in encouraging them to follow their dreams without fear of judgment is truly exciting."

Lewis subtly raised his thumb in a gesture of approval while she chuckled.

"Excellent," said the reporter with a smile. "One more question, how did your father react when you told him you were entering the world of Formula 1?"

"He cried," y/n answered quickly, eliciting laughter from those in the room. "He's quite the crybaby, so I waited until we were together to share the news of my contract with Porsche. At first, he cried tears of joy, then fear, and eventually a mixture of both. That's when he realized that all three of his children were following in his footsteps as race car drivers and that he'd have to pay for everything he put his own father through."

The reporter chuckled along with y/n. Mari had interviewed Rubens back when he was in Formula 1, and remembers clearly how emotional the man always was. The conference went on like this for another half an hour, with y/n answering everything from her expectations for the upcoming season to her favorite tracks and how she dealt with pressure.

The balaclava, damp with sweat, clung tightly to her face as she stood at attention. Her race engineer, a tall black man with a buzzcut and a calm expression, waited patiently beside her. She smoothed down the folds of her crisp, red-and-black uniform, adorned with her country's flag on the sleeve.

"How was the conference?" Jasper asked.

The girl muttered something that Jasper couldn't make out. "That bad? Did they bring up the issue with wearing skirts in the paddock again?"

"They didn't ask anything at first, but then one guy made a comment about me winning the championship by a narrow margin of points not being worthy of praise. Except it wasn't even a narrow margin; Felipe finished about sixty points behind me., and Fred was more than a hundred points behind, despite driving the same car as me" She complained.

Jasper winced. The relationship between the engineer and the driver had been amazing during pre-season tests with the man acting like a friend and a mentor, and they had found a groove to envy.

"You'll need to come up with a strategy for dealing with these reporters," Jasper advised.

"I already have one."

"Really?" He glanced at the clock on the track and realized that time was running out. He handed her the helmet with both hands. She grinned and smoothly put it on. The colors of her country's flag stood out against the black and red of the car, making it impossible to miss.

"Yes. WWJD."

"What does that stand for?"

"What Would Jenson Do. Originally, it was "What Would Kimi Do," but I quickly realized that Kimi would just tell everyone to go fuck themselves, and I can't exactly do that yet."

The garage was a whirlwind of activity, with mechanics frantically making last-minute adjustments and drivers strapping into their cars. The scent of gasoline and burning rubber wafted through the air, adding to the excitement and tension that crackled in the atmosphere.

Everywhere she looked, there were people moving with purpose, each one focused on their individual tasks to ensure a successful first qualifying session of the season. The roar of engines being revved and tools clanging against metal filled her ears, drowning out any other sound. It was a chaotic but exhilarating scene as the countdown to the race began.

"Why not "What Would Rubens Do"?" He asked.

She chuckled. "My dad is too nice. In his only fight in his entire Formula 1 career, he told the mechanic who wanted to fight him to get someone else because he was too small."

Jasper's phone buzzed insistently, jolting him out of his thoughts and reminding him that only five minutes remained until the start of Q1. After the last few adjustments from the mechanics, y/n managed to squeeze into her car and secure her seatbelt. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her body as she prepared for the intense competition ahead.

Jasper rested his arms on the halo. "Don't forget what we discussed earlier," he reminded her. "In Q1, six cars will be eliminated, followed by six more in Q2. This means that the top ten fastest cars will battle for pole position. Based on our data, we are definitely faster than Alpha Tauri, Alfa Romeo, Haas, and Williams - a total of eight cars."

The girl nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to the man as he continued. "At the very least, you and Mick should be able to make it into Q2. We're not sure how Alpine and McLaren are doing, but they don't seem to be as quick as us." He gestured towards the track outside where the other teams were busy with their own preparations. "But we can't let our guard down. Anything can happen during quali." The tension was palpable as they both waited for their turn on the track.

"So, we're trying for Q3 then?" She inquired, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.

"Officially, I was instructed to tell you that Q2 is sufficient, but we can't know our full potential until we're on the track."

A sly grin appeared on her face, hidden behind her helmet. She pushed down her visor, ready to give it her all. "Well, I say let's aim for Q3 then. I want to see what this car can really do."

A gentle laugh escaped Jasper's lips, his eyes shining with admiration. "That's the spirit, echo. Show them what you're made of."

With one final nod, y/n shifted her focus, tuning out the noise and commotion of the pit lane. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, using all her senses to ground herself in the present moment. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled her nostrils as she visualized the track ahead. The deafening roar of the engine drowned out all other sounds, sending shivers down her spine.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio in her ear, sounding like a distant robot. "Radio check," he said, his tone serious and business-like.

She adjusted gloves as she responded, "I hear you loud and clear." Her hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel as she followed Logan Sargeant's Williams out of the pit lane. It was a tight squeeze with the Porsche garage being the newest addition to the grid. She bit her lip, hoping that their placement in the pit lane wouldn't cause any trouble in the future.

"Great. Warm up your tires and then do a flying lap. We want to get a better idea of our potential and avoid any possible disruptions from a Red Flag," Jasper instructed.

"Roger that," she replied, trying to keep her breathing steady as cars started to move around her. She prayed that the onboard camera wouldn't catch her trembling hands as she prepared for her first real lap on the track.

The engine roared to life as she pressed down on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel with determination. The car surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses as she focused on the task at hand.

The wind whipped through, carrying with it a symphony of sounds—engines revving, tires squealing, and the distant cheers of the crowd. Her heart pounded in sync with the rhythm of the track, each beat pulsating through her chest.

As the cars whizzed by, she made a conscious effort to stay out of their way while completing her out lap. It was her first Grand Prix, and she wasn't about to receive an impeding penalty. She could feel the engine roaring to life and her car responding with precision, its tires getting ready to set a time that would hopefully secure her from elimination in the initial round.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Alright, you're good to go. Try your best," he encouraged, his voice filled with unwavering support.

"Copy." She smirked.

The pre-tests and free practice had prepared her for what was to come, but nothing could have truly prepared her for the exhilaration of sitting behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car. The engine purred like a fierce beast, ready to unleash its power at any moment. The sleek body of the car hugged the track, cutting through the air with precision and grace.

As she approached the first turn, she braked hard, shifting her weight to navigate the corner with precision. The G-forces pressed against her body, threatening to tear her away from reality. But she held firm, refusing to let anything distract her from the objective ahead.

She feathered the throttle, feeling the car respond to her slightest movements. The tires gripped the track, providing a sense of stability as she accelerated out of the turn, leaving her the other car trailing behind. Y/n's focus was unwavering, her eyes fixated on the next set of corners, mentally calculating her approach.

The flying lap was over in an instant, and the sound of the cheering crowd filled her ears as she crossed the finish line and set her initial time.

"Way to go, girl!" Jasper's voice crackled through the radio. "You've got P8, I repeat, P8. We're safely into Q2, but stay on track just in case. Prepare for another quick lap."

"How did Mick do?" she asked eagerly.

"P10, 0.78 seconds behind you," Jasper's voice was filled with pride as he responded. Despite his efforts to maintain professionalism, they were both rookies in the Formula 1 world, even if in different roles. "I got a great feeling about us, Barrichello. This could be the beginning of something legendary."

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she waited for the race to begin and she started to feel claustrophobic inside her cramped driver's room.

Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, she stepped outside into the bustling garage. The sight of her team, clad in matching uniforms and working tirelessly on their cars, brought a small smile to her face. As she made her way through the maze of mechanics and equipment, she was greeted with reassuring smiles and words of encouragement.

This was not just her first race, but also the team's inaugural race. In a way, they were all rookies, feeling the pressure and nerves just as she was.

Standing outside, it was clear that several eyes were on her. Some, like the veteran Ferrari mechanics who had known her since she was a little girl, flashed comforting smiles and gave her thumbs up, wishing her the best of luck. Others raised their eyebrows with skepticism, as if they believed her presence on the grid was some sort of elaborate prank that hadn't been revealed yet.

Amidst a sea of red and black uniforms, the bright green outfit of the two-time world champion stood out prominently. Fernando paid no mind to the curious glances from his mechanics as he made his way confidently towards the girl.

"You're not allowed in here, Alonso." She teased, playfully crossing her arms in a gesture that made her seem much older than she was.

"Is that how it is now? You qualify in the Top 10 in your first race and all of a sudden I'm just Alonso, not Nando?" He responded with a chuckle. Clutching his heart dramatically, he leaned back as if struck by sudden agony. "What happened to all our pizza days? They meant nothing to you?"

The character she was playing no longer felt right to her, and the words she spoke didn't align with the expression on her face. She fought to suppress a smile as she continued, "That person you knew, Alonso? She is gone now."

As the man approached, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over her. His dark hair and intense brown eyes were etched into her memory, but it was his infectious smile that brought back a flood of childhood memories.

Fernando rested his hands on her shoulders and held onto his helmet, which puzzled her. With only a few minutes left before the race began, he could have easily stored it in his own garage rather than carrying it around. But she pushed those thoughts aside as his gaze softened and he spoke.

"You were the size of a flea when I met you," he said with a chuckle. She smiled at the memory of their first encounter. She had been just six years old at the time, tagging along with her father to one of his races. She remembered being mesmerized by the speed and energy of the cars on the track, but also feeling a little intimidated by the loud noises and bustling crowds.

But then she saw him – Alonso – standing tall and proud in his racesuit. He had noticed her watching him from behind the fence and had flashed her a tight smile. Somehow, from that one interaction, she had become a fan. From then on, whenever she visited the track with her father, she would always seek out Fernando.

Initially, the Spaniard couldn't comprehend why the young girl found him so intriguing. He knew he was talented and quick on the race track, but children were not his forte. Alonso would often try to distance himself from the girl, offering only friendly waves and smiles. However, when she presented him with a drawing of himself on the podium with a trophy (which he still keeps today), everything changed.

"You used to avoid me like the plague," she recalled.

"That's not entirely true," Fernando denied, but quickly changed his tune when the girl raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I wasn't too fond of being followed around by a little girl. Can you blame me? If anything happened to you, I would have to deal with your father, Michael, Kimi, and all the mechanics that you had wrapped around your finger."

He became somewhat of figure between an older brother and a father figure to her, always ready with words of encouragement and advice.

Now here they were, both grown up and about to race against each other for the very first time.

"I can't believe we're finally racing against each other," she said with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

"It's about time," Fernando replied with a smirk. "I've been waiting for this moment since you beat me in go-karts."

A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the moment. During one of his trips with her family to cheer her on during her junior career, they decided to have some fun and race go-karts. She had managed to beat him by mere thousandths of a second, and she made sure to remind him of it constantly afterwards.

"What's on the agenda for today, Mija?" He asked, looking around at the girl's garage.

"Hah, like I would share that with you. I love you, Nando, but now we're competitors." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're just trying to take advantage because we're close."

"You got me." He chuckled, knowing it wasn't entirely true.

She sighed and crossed her arms with a hesitant expression. "Rule number one is to not crash into Mick. Number two is to avoid crashing into anyone else. Our team isn't expecting a stellar performance, so if we can maintain our starting positions, both cars will score points. That's our main goal."

"Oh, come on. Don't you want to try overtaking someone?" he prodded.

Y/N laughed. "Why? You want to see me in your rearview mirror?"

"Of course I do," he admitted. "Competing for a win with you would be incredible."

He pushed his helmet towards the girl, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Confused, she tilted her head in question. “I appreciate the gift, but I think you’ll need it today.”

Fernando laughed, memories flooding back to him. “Remember when your dad retired and you started coming to races with me?”

The memories flooded back, of her father's days in the high-stakes world of Formula 1. Though he had since retired, Fernando still managed to convince Rubens to allow her to travel with him to races closer to her home, and sometimes even to the grand prix in his homeland.

She quickly caught on to his request and playfully darted away from him before snagging the helmet. It had become a tradition since she was ten years old, and Fernando had unofficially taken on the role of her godfather. She used to do this same routine with her own father, so it felt natural to continue with the spaniard. He stood there, slightly perplexed, wondering if he had said or done something wrong. But just moments later, the young girl returned with her own helmet in hand.

"Wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same for me this time?" she asked playfully.

The two exchanged helmets and planted a kiss on the part of the helmet that would soon cover each other's foreheads.

"Stay safe, Nando"

"You too. Give us hell"

"It's an easy overtake for Barrichello in the Porsche, and she takes the position from Lance Stroll in the Aston Martin!" David Croft's voice rings across the circuit, and the crowd roars, the flags from her country and Germany flying around.

"Great job!" The voice of her race engineer appears in her ear, breaking through her intense concentration. "Russell is 1.2 ahead, close the gap to be able to use DRS when it is enabled."

"Copy" she nods, instinctively, her eyes never leaving the track ahead. She knows what she needs to do, and she pushes her car to its limits, weaving through the curves and straights with precision and skill.

As she closes the gap between her and the british driver, she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She's in her element, in the midst of the intense competition that she lives for.

"0.7. Go for it, elbows out" Jasper said again.

The cheers of the pit crew resounded in her ears as she used the extra boost to overtake the Mercedes. It was a challenge to defend against George's attempts at whiplash and reclaim her position, but once they were off the main straight, she managed to create a considerable gap between them.

The rest of the race flew by in a blur. The girl lost track of her position, constantly overtaking some cars only to be overtaken shortly after. However, Jasper's encouraging words kept her going.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio as she approached the final stretch of the race. "Virtual safety car, slow down," he instructed.

She quickly checked her rearview mirror, looking for her teammate. "Is it ours?" she asked.

"No, it's Leclerc in the Ferrari," Jasper replied, "which puts us in fifth place."

She could see Hamilton was more than five seconds behind, and the yellow flag meant that Alonso was slowing down ahead of her.

"As soon as the VSC is lifted, you'll have a clear shot to overtake," Jasper added.

Who would have thought that she would be right on Fernando's heels after all?

After a few laps of caution due to the previous incident, the green flags were waved and she wasted no time in accelerating towards the Aston Martin driven by the Spaniard. She steadily closed the gap between them until she was right behind him. However, just as she was about to make a move to pass him, he outmaneuvered Carlos Sainz's Ferrari.

In a swift and calculated maneuver, she positioned her car on the inside of Sainz, who seemed too focused on reclaiming his position to check his mirrors. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse of attention, she quickly overtook him.

Jasper's voice was filled with excitement as he shouted, "That's it, echo! What a fantastic move!" She could almost hear the smile in his tone. "Alonso is already ten seconds ahead, so concentrate on defending now."

The final laps seemed like a blur, the girl steadily increasing the gap between her and the Ferrari with each lap.

"It's a flawless performance from Porsche, with both cars scoring points on this historic day. Mick Schumacher equals his best career finish with an incredible P6, and Y/N Barrichello takes fourth place, becoming the first woman to score in a Formula 1 race since Lella Lombardi and achieving the highest position for a woman in history!"

The sound of the bustling cheers from the Porsche garage fills her ears as she struggled to park the car with trembling hands. “Unbelievable! P4, y/n, P4! We scored 21 points and Mick got the fastest lap. What a start,” Jasper exclaims over the radio.

She stepped out of the car on shaky legs and is immediately greeted by Carlos, who had parked his car behind hers. “Where did you come from?” he asked with a chuckle. “I was trying to overtake Fernando, and suddenly you were right beside me.”

She took off her helmet and balaclava, her hair damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead and neck. She culdn't help but laugh. "Next time, check your mirrors," She teases her good-naturedly.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. The sweat that coated both of them didn't matter, nor did the fact that she still needed to weigh herself. She squeezed Mick even tighter and they both seemed too overjoyed to let go.

He took a step back but kept his arms around her. "Fourth place in your first race! I told you not to worry," the German exclaimed proudly.

"And look who's talking with the fastest lap!" She laughed in agreement. "We did it, Mick. We fucking did it."

A bottle of water suddenly appeared in her line of sight, and she turned to thank the person who handed it to her. To her surprise, it was Lewis with a smile on his face.

"If you had just overtaken one more person, you would have joined the club," he joked, pointing to Kevin Magnussem, who appeared to be deep in conversation with his teammate. "It was quite a race for the two of you."

"Honestly, I wasn't expecting to end up anywhere higher than where I started, so P4 is already a great achievement," she replied with a laugh as she took the cold bottle from him. The girl then turned to Lewis again and asked about his own race.

"P7. Mick managed to pass me on the last lap," he responded, glancing over at the young driver who chuckled in response.

The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins as y/n made her way to the weighing machines. She couldn't believe it, a P4 finish on her debut race. It seemed like a dream come true.

She stepped onto the scales, trying to calm her racing heart. The number flashed on the screen, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, just made it," she muttered to herself.

Grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat from her face, she quickly discarded her race suit at her hips, and made her way to her garage in her white fireproofs.

To an outsider, it might have seemed like the team had just won a world championship, not a P6 and P4. People were clapping her on the back and embracing Mick, and she struggled to decipher the various voices exclaiming with joy.

Jasper appeared in front of her with a bottle of champagne in hand. "Congratulations y/n, you did amazing out there!" he exclaimed before popping open the bottle and spraying champagne everywhere.

She laughed as some of the bubbly liquid hit her skin. "Thanks Jasper! I couldn't have done it without your perfect strategy. Great call with the tyres"

He grinned at her before turning serious. "But seriously y/n, you did a great job out there. We're all so proud of you." The rest of the team joined them in cheers and congratulations.

Before they could continue their conversation, Adrian, the team principle, arrived at their garage looking ecstatic. "Great job everyone! A double-points finish for our debut race, this is just the beginning." He raised his glass of champagne before taking a sip.

Y/n looked around and couldn't help but feel proud of her team. They had come a long way since their first tests together. And now here they were, competing in one of the most prestigious racing championships in the world.

Adrian turned to her with a smile. "Y/n, I must say you exceeded all expectations today. You have proven yourself as a valuable addition to our team." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep up the good work."

She couldn't help but blush at his words and nod gratefully. This was everything she had ever dreamed of - to be part of a successful racing team and make her mark in the sport.

As the celebrations continued, y/n couldn't help but think about how far she had come. From fighting for sponsorships to competing against some of the best drivers in the world, it felt like a dream come true.

But amidst all the excitement and joy, there was still one thing weighing on her mind - her family. She missed them terribly and wished they could be here to witness her success.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

"Muito orgulhoso de você filhota. Eu sabia que você ia arrasar! Me liga quando acabar tudo aí" — PAPAI. (so so proud of you, baby. i knew you would rock it! call me once you're done with everything there.)

Soon after, her older brother's name appeard on her phone as well. A quick congrats was followed by a video. Tapping on it, she couldn't contain the tears as she watched her father by the TV, holding tightly their flag and exploding in joy as the checkered flag was waved and his daughter finished in fourth.

He erupted with happiness, leaping and embracing her siblings and close friends who had gathered to witness her debut. He would excitedly point towards the television, shouting with pride, "There she is! My little girl!"

A big smile crept onto her face as she quickly replied back with an update on how things were, and a promise to video call her family as soon as she was cleared from the media.

"Time for the boring stuff now. Ready for the interviews?" Mick pulled her out of her thoughts. He had his phone on his hand, and she imagined he was also communicating with his family. "I can go first, if you want."

She took a deep breath, and smiled. "It's okay, i'll go. There's nothing they can say that could ruin my day. Not anymore."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley, @stinkyjax, @namgification, @judespoision, @cha-hot, @disneyprincemuke, @itsjustkhaos, @trouble-sistar, @ihateyougunthersteiner, @treehouse-mouse, @cherry-piee, @fangirl125reader, @cassie0sstuff

[moirindeclermont]

Daily thread about BridgertonS3 and I want to talk about so many things: trauma, the power of representation, the wedding, that 4 second scene at the end, but my mind is still on the mirror scene... So, let's do part 2: I love everything, but every time I watch it (my rewatch count shall not be revealed) what captivates me the most are still Pen's expressions.

Again, I'm in absolute awe of Nicola and her talent, because this is the perfect mix between lust, desire, nerves and innocence. Her expressions, sounds, non verbal language... I can't stop watching it.

But I want to do a deep dive into her thoughts during the scene: I know a thing or two about yearning, and the idea of having the person I want most in the word, saying they love me and then making me seen what they see in me, I'd already pass out on the floor.

Knowing what we know about Pen, how she was treated and the obstacles tmshe has faced, I bet the being in front of a mirror with Colin, while they are about to become intimate, must be like a dream coming true, only better.

Of course there are nerves and agitation, but it's like going on a rollercoaster (for those who enjoy it), it's the adrenaline when you're about to go on stage, it's the out of the body experience that must come with be able to finally cross that bridge with the person you love most.

And I love that she is active in the experience as well. Asking for direction, being supported but without being passive. She desires this. Of course she does. But in a world where even now, women sexuality is often reduced and put on a pedestal, this is revolutionary. She likes being there with Colin. She's experiencing pleasure for the second time in her life and she loves it.

I can't get enough of her expression after the penetration. That split second in which you can see her thinking "oh, this is why people do this". How her entire body comes to life, and even in that moment, she is not passive.

She tries to get closer to Colin, lust in her eyes, the desire finally free to flow.

It was indeed perfect. And even the "can we do it again?" Is still laced with the feeling of discovery. She had a taste and now she wants more. As. She. Should.

And for us, the audience, it is captivating and incredibly powerful to see a woman enjoy herself and her lover, no question, no judgement, no conseguence, even when we know she is LW and this secret is still between them.

It is just a first time. Except, it's not just that. Because this has never been the standard for first time, and maybe Bridgerton can help change that. That, would be a feature indeed!

Ps: I saved so many gifs Idk who did what, if you recognize yours, write me and I'll credit you

First gif: @myargalargan

[raayllum]

What do you think is the narrative, thematic and symbolic relevance of Claudia's amputation and prosthesis?

There's a few, I think, both in how the actual amputation happened, and then how the show handles things with her actual prosthetic.

The amputation:

Claudia is drinking and using a spell that uses her own blood. In arc 2, she increasingly takes on more animalistic forms with her dark magic (snake spell, wings, the tentacles). This mirrors how she's increasingly cannibalizing herself and treating herself as spell parts, as well as themes of fragmentation ("How are we going to move it?" "In pieces" / "We're all that's left of our family, and I'm not going to let anything break us apart" / "Our family was shattered forever"). She may not realize that's what she's doing with herself - dark magic is an extension of herself and her power - but that is what she's doing, hence having a 'dark magic leg' cut off but with real lasting consequences.

There's also the element of Rayla and her brutality that comes into play. Rayla nearly lost a hand in trying to save Zym and usher in peace, which is why she got to - narratively and literally - keep it. Meanwhile Claudia is going down an increasingly dark path, so she loses it, just as her assault on Ibis led her to injure her leg with her dark magic flask. That's not to say becoming disabled is a narrative punishment, but it does showcase how she's putting herself in 1) increasingly dangerous situations for 2) increasingly dangerous people and 3) always by herself. This is contrasted by how the trio wins because they have each other VS Terry (+ Claudia's support system) being regulated to the shore.

Rayla in arc 2 is walking her usual razor's edge of on the one hand being increasingly open and empathetic / letting her compassion shine through - which is a good thing - while being hands down more violent than she was in arc 1. She left to hunt down Viren and recognized it'd gotten twisted into revenge, much like her first mission, and gave this one up without a dragon's egg to change her; she held Terry hostage (although whether she would've hurt him is unknown, but the threat was there!), abandons the drake when Soren doesn't, and cuts off Claudia's leg, etc. We even see this with her actually agreeing to kill Callum if he's possessed again (6x03). All this is, I think, there to create room for the possession plot line to take centre stage in S7 as her own 'dark path' as an assassin will be challenged and likely, finally, put entirely to rest. (Arc 2 opening with her failing to kill a high mage and it's a bad thing vs closing with her failing/refusing to kill a high mage and it's a good thing, probably?) And Claudia represents like the middle road of Viren and Callum in some ways, just as Callum is a middle road between Viren and Claudia -- but meta for another day maybe

On a plot level: it's much harder for Claudia to stop and keep up with Viren if she can't fully walk, and it represents how she's continually sacrificed herself and her body for her family's survival (which dark magic is deeply interested in the idea of "bodies as sites of trauma" but again, meta for another day maybe / adjacent metas in my 'dark magic' tag).

As for her prosthetic:

Claudia has always used magic as a crutch, specifically dark magic. She doesn't have to deal with the big scary feelings permanent consequences or 'brokenness' can bring if she can fix it with dark magic. She can "cure" Soren and bring her dad back from the dead, and she expresses confusion or mistrust when those experiences of being paralyzed or dead undoubtedly affect them and change them, especially when it changes in ways that take them away from her. Because if they're not okay, or not here, then she's not okay. Her using her corrupted Sunforge staff, which at this point just represents dark magic in her life tbh, as a literal crutch is what she's been doing emotionally for a while now, which is also why she takes it with her when she leaves Terry. (The fact that it, much like Claudia, is a corrupted light is just the symbolic cherry on top.)

This isn't too dissimilar in terms of framing of how Callum uses magic as a crutch to distract from / avoid his emotions in S4, and how he drops the staff in order to pick up Rayla's sword to embrace those feelings and embrace her. And why Claudia has a moment of likewise dropping her staff to embrace Terry as well; even if he isn't as critical of dark magic as he arguably could/should be, he is still one of Claudia's guiding lights and wants what's best for her.

The prosthetic, then, represents learning to lean on Terry rather than dark magic (which Terry saving her in 6x04 and her staving off dark magic use also reflects) again, quite literally in 6x03. The prosthetic is the literal creation and metaphorical embodiment of Terry's love and faith for her and his connection to nature/primal magic, all things she sorely needs in her life.

TLDR:

The fact that paths and "every step forward is a choice" and "Daddy look I'm following in your footstep" are continually emphasized, I think Claudia losing a leg made a lot of sense symbolically. I think her prosthetic is also very strong symbolically if very straightforward. S6 honestly gave a lot of signals that she's going to be redeemed and this was one of the biggest to me; I'd expect that prosthetic as a symbol of Terry's love for her will either maintain that hope, or help bring it home (making her remember him if they diverge paths or something) and that we'd only be in a big trouble if it got burned to a crisp tbh

[frankiebirds]

goddddd motel scene time. i have a lot of thoughts on it and hopefully i'll be able to put them into some kind of order.

ELLE: After he shot me, he reached into my wound so he could write on the wall in my blood. I was barely conscious, but I...I could feel his hand in there. And sometimes it's like I can still feel it. REID: Elle, he's dead. You're...You're right here. You won.

obviously this is an unhelpful thing to say. i dont think that makes reid evil, or a bad friend, i think it makes him a twenty-four-year-old who's struggling to understand a situation he's never been in.

i dont think elle resents him for it. im sure there's frustration, deservedly so, but i dont think it's targeted at reid, more at the general sense of Nobody Is Getting Me. especially this expression here:

in the moment, this doesnt read to me as anger. it's certainly not a happy smile; she's not comforted by what reid says because it's not a comforting thing to say, and i think it sort of develops into anger later, but in the moment, she doesn't resent him for not being able to say the right thing. again, there's frustration, because he doesn't get it. he can't (not yet, anyway). a part of her wishes he did, a part of her wishes somebody did, and yet a different part of her hopes none of them ever do, because it's an awful, awful thing to understand.

i headcanon that reid and elle stay in contact after elle leaves, but i dont think its immediate. i flipflop between two reasons

reid doesnt reach out because he feels guilty, like if he had just said the right words in the right order in that motel room, she would have stayed. i think this is generally how reid responds to abandonment (and sometimes just conflict in general). if i had just said the right thing, done that differently, been better, i could have fixed it. boy is...a little emotionally stunted. if he was a stage of grief he would be bargaining. do you get me.

reid does reach out, but elle doesn't respond. maybe she's still angry about him not being able to Get It, maybe she wants to distance herself from the bau in general, maybe him not Getting It hurts in particular because they were quite close, etc.

either way, they get back in contact post s02e15, when reid texts her a barely coherent rambling apology for that night, how it was an unsympathetic and unhelpful thing to say, and he does get it now, and he's sorry, there is no winning—

she calls him.

[td-scenarios]

Request: Confessional about s/o for Cody, Scott, Justin, Heather, and Lindsey? Have a great day!

(I hope u dont mind if it's pre-relationship! u didn't clarify, but i thought them talking abt their crush on reader would be cute :] )

__________________________________________

Scott

He looks slightly disturbed being here. A shifty look in his eye, almost as if he was nervous to look directly at the camera. Every time Scott had been in to make a confessional up until this point was to explain whatever he had been planning for the competition, so this was unsettling for him to say the least.

"So, Y/N, am I right?" He started before the camera fizzed out and came back to him in a different position. "Nevermind this is stupid."

It would take a while until Scott would brave the confessional again. This time, he was gripping his head like a madman. Slowly, his head tilted up until he was holding onto his face with his eyes framed by his fingers.

"I can't take it anymore. They're perfect! My schemes can't touch 'em!" His hands had left his face and he was gesturing wildly. "I don't think I even WANT my schemes to affect them. Woah. I never thought I'd say that."

Scott blinked dumbly at the camera before a scowl took over his expression.

"Y/N I'm comin' for ya."

-

Lindsay

"Oh my gosh!" Lindsay twirled a strand of her hair around her finger as she stared off into the distance past the camera. "Do you guys think that Y/N likes me? 'Cause I toooootally like them. Like, I like-like them." A dreamy smile plastered on her face as she kept talking. "I hope they like me back. Like who wouldn't?"

She thought about what she said for a second, her expression a bit grave as it finally focused on the camera.

"People like me, right? Yeah, they do. That means Y/N has to like me." A pause. "Ooooooh, but what if they don't?" Lindsay tapped her chin in thought at the idea. "Whatever! They're really cute and like smart and amazing!" The blonde finally stopped talking and just sat there with her head resting on her hands as she let out a wistful sigh. This pause continued for about a minute before she finally perked up and tilted her head at the camera.

"Wait, is this still going?"

-

Justin

The model tapped his finger on the vanity as he was thinking about what he should say. He finally looked up and fixed his hair in the mirror as he started talking.

"I never thought I'd meet anyone as gorgeous as me. And I haven't. But Y/N comes pretty close and that's dangerous. They're stunning and their wit is unmatched." His lips puckered in defeat since his hair wasn't falling the way he wanted to. Ultimately, he gave up on it as he kept talking.

"Maybe I should go for an alliance with them. The thought of getting Y/N voted off just...doesn't sit right with me. But I also can't have this sort of competition."

Justin sat there with a frown, not really knowing what his plans would become at this stage. He sighed before he shot a smirk back up at the camera.

"I need to stop with all this thinking, it's making me ugly."

-

Heather

"They're insufferable!" Heather growled, folding her arms across her body while glaring off to the side. "All they do is be stupidly kind and have a dumb face and...and...and well they piss me off!"

"I need Y/N out of this game. Pronto! If I am to keep my game face on then Y/N has to go. They're totally messing everything up!"

Heather huffed and continued stewing in her anger. Eventually, she kept sputtering on some anger fueled words before letting out a frustrated groan.

"I can't believe this is happening..." She grumbled, scrunching in on herself more.

Before the camera fizzed out, a slight smile was seen on Heather's face as she let out a dreamy sigh.

-

Cody

"Wow. Y/N..." Cody sat there, staring at the camera with the most overjoyed look on his face. "They're probably the first person I've ever found attractive that is actually giving me the time of day! This is great!!"

Cody silently cheered, raising his arms in the air with a big smile on his face. Once his tiny little self-contained celebration was over he finally began speaking once more.

"I really really hope they like me back. Wouldn't that be awesome?" He got a bit closer to the camera, a smile on his face.

"I mean, they don't push me away, they're not mean to me, and they actually laugh at my jokes! I think that the Codemeister has finally done it." His ecstatic boy-ish demeanor quickly replaced with a more smug one.

"Or, at least, I hope so."

[rintaroll]

❝ INSIDE THE LINES. ❞

— during matsukawa's time babysitting your niece, more than a couple realizations occur to you.

⊱┊pairing. matsukawa issei x gn!reader ⊱┊tags. fluff, established relationship, reader has a 6 year old niece and works at the bakery, food mention, mattsun has a sleeve tattoo :], unedited ⊱┊wc. 1.3k ⊱┊note. cleaning out my drafts hehe this was back when i had my mattsun brain rot (OH btw while writing this he works as a tattoo artist in my mind but i didnt mention it anywhere)

© RINTAROLL

"issei, i'm so sorry-"

"it's fine," matsukawa waves his hand dismissively. his eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. "when are you coming home?"

"soon. i just have to frost the cupcakes and wait for the customer to pick them up." you pan your phone to the chocolate cupcakes, fresh out of the oven and still steaming hot.

"those look really good, babe." matsukawa muses.

you hear a small voice squealing from behind the camera. "i wanna see!"

your boyfriend chuckles, eyes trained on your niece, himeko, whose ears have perked up at the word 'cupcakes'. the six-year-old scrambles onto the sofa, comfortably nestling herself into matsukawa's side. her eyes widen when she finally sees the cupcakes in all their chocolatey goodness. "yummy..." she says, eyes boring into matsukawa's phone screen, unblinking and shiny.

you pan your phone back to your face. "they're not for you!" you remind her.

"i know!" himeko sighs dramatically, strands of hair falling onto her face. mattsun effortlessly brushes it back. "i have to wait for tomorrow so we can make them together."

"yes, that's right." you nod in approval.

"why can't it be tomorrow already?" she pouts. mattsun doesn't realize, but your eyes are trained on him while he stares at your niece while adorning an amused smile.

"hm," you ponder. "maybe if you sleep early tonight, then tomorrow will come earlier?" a sly grin forms on your lips.

himeko narrows her eyes at you. "that's not gonna work on me!"

you shrug. "worth a try."

matsukawa snickers at your failed attempt to trick her. "smart girl," he praises her before raising one of his hands, which is met with a high five from himeko. your niece then proceeds to stick her tongue out at you.

you shake your head, but there's a smile on your lips despite you doing so. she might as well steal your boyfriend at this point, you think to yourself.

you can almost remember the good times—when himeko was four and hiding behind your legs, while matsukawa was crouching in front of you. she was terrified, little hands gripping onto your pants. she told you he looked like a gangster, with all the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm. "what if he kidnaps me?" she wailed once he leaves, to which you comfort her by saying that he won't. from her skeptic expression and her glassy eyes, it was safe to say that she was far from convinced.

and yet now here you are. with your boyfriend and your niece in cahoots, conspiring together to overthrow you someday.

"anyways, i was calling because she wanted me to tell you she finished her coloring book, isn't that right, hime?"

halfway through his words, himeko lets out an 'oh!' and jumps up from the couch. she picks up her coloring book off the floor, where it was surrounded by an assortment of colored pencils and markers in disarray. flipping to the last page, she proudly shows off her latest piece of work. "look!"

you gasp, genuinely admiring the effort she's put into coloring in the drawing of a fish. considering how she's just turned six, she's done a wonderful job in coloring inside the lines. "that looks so nice! did you do that all by yourself?"

"yep!" she chirps, nodding excitedly before stopping to ponder for a moment. "hm... i guess, uncle mattsun did help me color the amenomies..."

"anemones," matsukawa stage whispers.

"right, amenemones."

you and matsukawa bite back your laughs. "it looks really good, himeko," you comment, still smiling.

himeko nods absentmindedly. it becomes obvious to both you and matsukawa that her attention is not on either of you anymore. she goes out of frame as she continues to flip through her coloring book and zeroes in on her work, leaving matsukawa the only one left in view of the camera.

your eyes flit to the top of your phone screen, clicking your tongue when you read the time. "alright, i better go and start frosting. the customer will be here soon. bye, himeko! bye, baby."

matsukawa's heart flutters helplessly. he will never get tired of you calling him that. "see you," your boyfriend beams. although still engrossed by her coloring book, you hear your niece mumble a soft 'bye' right before the call ends.

pocketing his phone, matsukawa turns his focus back on himeko only to find her tiny lips curled into a frown. "something wrong, sweets?"

she looks up, with her brows all scrunched up. matsukawa feels his heart melt at the sight. "i'm out of pages. what will i color now?"

"i'll buy you another one tomorrow, okay?" he pokes her nose.

with a giggle, she scrunches her nose in effect. "okay."

an idea spontaneously strikes matsukawa. it might be one of the best ideas he's had in a while—the realization that himeko brings out his creative side more often than not quickly becomes an afterthought.

"actually, hime..."

her ears perk up, big eyes staring up at him. those big, doe eyes he has not learned how to say no to.

"i know something else you can color."

matsukawa was sure he saw himeko visibly light up when he offers his tattooed arm. he doesn't need to tell her twice. she expeditiously collects her markers off the ground—she's big enough to know that pencil colors won't be able to color in your skin!—and spreads them out on the sofa next to where both of them sit.

snuggled into his side, matsukawa has his tattooed arm around her as himeko starts to color in the tattoos from the ones on his forearm. "i'll make sure your arm looks extra pretty!" she exclaims excitedly.

"can you make it look as pretty as you are?"

himeko tilts her head to the side as she thinks of an answer. "hm... maybe. i'll try." the earnestness in her answer makes matsukawa chuckle.

as himeko continues, her inquiries about his sleeve don't stop. did it hurt? (just a little bit.) what's the meaning behind this one? (there's no meaning to that one. this one, however...) are you gonna get a tattoo of y/n? (i already did.) can i get one too? (matsukawa laughs awkwardly when he hears the last question, immediately changing the topic by asking her what her favorite color is. he doesn't want to get into trouble.)

the conversations tone down when himeko makes it halfway through matsukawa's forearm. he knows himeko turns quiet once she's focused. it's only when matsukawa feels her marker slip that he realizes that she has nodded off. making as little movement as possible, he closes the cap on the red marker that she was holding and puts it aside.

half an hour later, you tip-toe into your living room with the intention to surprise your boyfriend and your niece at heart. as you get closer, suspicions start to arise when you realize that it's awfully quiet.

wait, are they-

oh.

they are.

your heart blooms at the precious sight of matsukawa and himeko fast asleep on the couch. matsukawa's head is lolled back on the back of the sofa, his arms around himeko as she is curled up into his side. they look so comfortable and peaceful, soft snores coming out of the both of them with hideko's head rising up and down along with matsukawa's chest with every breath that he takes.

you just finished snapping a quick picture when realization sets in.

and no, it's not about how matsukawa has successfully won her over for good—that realization has set in a long time ago.

but it's realizing that you want to spend the rest of your life coming home to this sight. him dozing off on the sofa, waiting for you to come home, and maybe a child, or two, of your own curled up next to him.

vocabulary !

himeko is written like so: 姫子 in kanji. 姫 (hime) means princess, while 子 (ko) means child. mattsun's nickname for her is hime, which essentially means he calls her 'princess'.

[gloombeauty]

Read your two reviews of Lana's Coachella show, you are not the only one who thinks thinks Lana's voice is gone. There are brave souls who will express a negative opinion on Lana's own Instagram page. These two did it today. I'm sure they were bullied and attacked after writing that. Lana is a terrible performer. I always said it but at least she use to be able to sing. I think they must be fixing her voice in the studio for her last few albums. She doesn't sound like she use to anymore.

I tried looking for these comments on Lana's Honeymoon account but I don't see it. Either Lana deleted it or they deleted the comments themselves after being bullied/death threatened by a million psychotic Lana stans.

The Lana fan community is a dumpter fire. Between 200 million "mother is mothering" comments, there's 100 million of "she ate" in between them. That is the full vocabulary you'll find in Lana's comments. How refreshing is it when there's a fan who actually has something to say that isn't "mother".

These two fans who wrote these comments on Lana's IG are brave souls. The majority of Lana stans are like the demonic mutant I was just talking about on my other post. If you are not kissing Lana's ass 100% of the time, 24/7 - you are brutally attacked by these types of online Lana fans. Most times, they threaten your life or the life of your children. If you think that's farfetch, look at the Beyhive and Swifty's. They are known to destroy the lives of people who don't worship their idols. Lana stans are the same.

Lana has never been a performer, that's the thing. She's not an entertainer either. She's a singer. And now...she barely sings. She needs the help of background vocal tracks playing loudly in the background of all her concerts. It's actually sad to watch especially when you can remember how she use to sing.

Look at both nights she played at Coachella. Night one she didn't have the background vocals playing and it was a disaster. The second night she had them loud and clear. She miraculously can "sing" again. It's really no different then lip syncing. It is cheating. But sadly, Lana can't sing as she use to. She probably feels more comfortable having her vocals playing loudly in the background 'just in case'. I imagine it's comforting for her to have it.

In case anyone forgot how Lana use to sing, here is a reminder:

As for vaping - I have been saying it for the last 5 years that Lana's voice was decreasing in richness and volume. That she couldn't sing in low tones anymore. That she was damaging her vocal cords from all that vaping. I was called crazy. Am I fucking crazy now?

It might have been funny for some fans watching Lana running around different concert stages, looking for her vape pen. I thought she looked pathetic and sad. It showed everyone just how truly addicted she was to vaping.

Then she would post herself vaping on social media too. It was endless. I'm surprised she can still breathe and doesn't need a lung transplant. Some aren't so lucky.

Once that voice of hers is gone - it's gone. No going back. Not even Tessa Pietro can help her with her spiritual crap.

Again, I been saying this shit for 5 years and her fans would get pissed at me for spewing scientific facts. The amount of people who have died from vaping or needed lungs transplants is insane. Just Google it. It's happened time after time and time after time.

I guess we should be grateful Lana is alive and still literally breathing. I didn't see her vaping or running all over the stage at Coachella looking for her lost vape pen. I was surprised actually. Just as surprised when she lost all that weight. Maybe she quit vaping after losing weight and wants to lead a healthier life?

Anyway, great comments by those two people.

There's also the fact that these Coachella shows were not her best performances. I reviewed it and said it on my own page. I love that The Guardian spoke up too.

The fact that half the audience was gone on both nights before Lana even finished her shows - really spoke volumes. All you have to do is look at the audience video footage taken from the drones. I screen shot it too:

There's also this fact:

The truth is Lana was a weak Headliner. Bless her heart, she tried.

Everyone went for No Doubt and Doja Cat.

[ronance4everbrainrot]

What I wanted to happen before the girls went back to their time. Part 2

(For little context part 1 here)

---

Red was anxious.

Something was up with Bridget.

She doesn't want to bring it up. Chloe would normally do that. At least she nudges her to say it.

But Chloe is having the time of her life looking through Bridget's closet. Not noticing that Bridget's normally bright smile- which creeped Red out at first but she's grown used to it -wasn't reaching her eyes.

Red normally wouldn't notice stuff like that. I mean she always watches her mother's reaction and mood and expression. But her mother is hard to read. Chloe on the other hand was easier to read, also easy to know which buttons you can push.

Red chuckles to herself. Not now.

But with Bridget? It may be the fact that Red got creeped out by the- apparently -genuine smile, that it haunted her. So she immediately noticed the difference. But who knows..

Anyway

Something is wrong with Bridget and it needs to be talked about...

Uuuggh

Fiiine

"Um.. Br-" her voice definitely didn't crack. She clears her throat. "Bridget?" She tried to say it as quiet as possible so Chloe wouldn't hear..why doesn't she want Chloe to know? She doesn't know.

Bridget looks up, a smile gracing her face, again. But not reaching the eyes, again.

"Yes, sweeti- I mean Red" she giggles at her own slip up. Bridget loves to give petnames to her friends, but she noticed Red got uncomfortable by it, so she tries not to with her.

"What's up?" She locks eyes with Red, curious about what Red wants to say.

Red opens her mouth and closes it again "I-.." she stops and sighs "Are-" she stops and sighs "Did-.." she stops again and growls in frustration. "Why is it so difficult" she mutters to herself angrily. "I wish Chloe were here. She'd be so much better at this" she sighs quietly.

Meanwhile

Chloe was still in the walk in closet. She's surprised a school dorm room has this.

But wow. Brigdet got so many beautiful dresses and even suits! Most are sadly pink or red, which aren't really Chloe's colors.

However, Bridget did tell her she had something that fit her perfectly and Chloe believes her.

Chloe was stunned by what she found. Hidden behind the Red and Pink were Blue clothes. Well more specifically a blue dress AND a blue suit.

It didn't really surprise her that Bridget had blue clothes. even tho it kinda did lol.

But what surprised her more was when she walked closer.

Her eyes scanning over the suit

It was perfect.

(I'll just say the colors. Can be changed tho. Imagine yourself again.)

It was a deep blue, with one sleeve of the jacket fading from blue to purple to red. A dark red wine color.

(that's it lol. Idk)

Chloe normally would wear a lighter blue dress or suit. And if she would have gone shopping she probably would have bought a light blue suit.

But this was the best she could get right now and it's amazing.

She thinks about just taking it and shoving Bridget and Red. But she hesitates and thinks. Then a blush comes creeping on her cheeks at the same time with a cheeky yet nervous smile.

She wants to surprise Red with it. So she can't see the suit before.. maybe Red would think she'd be in a dress? And then boom. Charmed.

Chloe shakes her head.

What the fuck?

What the fuck.

Shit.

She sighs, after she went through all the 5 stages in 5 seconds.

She thinks about all the times she checked Red out or looked at her lips, as she comes out of the closet (;3) with a burning red face and a natural expression.

She tries to calm her nerves before she talks to Bridget..or Red...

But suddenly she feels a hand on both her shoulders and she comes to a stop, face panicked as she looks up and the panicking almost gets worse when she sees it's Red that's standing in front of her, with a goddamn smile. A smile!?

"Chloe! Great! I really need you right now! Perfect timing!" Red was acting weird. But before Chloe can ask, Red suddenly leans closer to her and Chloe thought she died right there and went to heaven.

'stoop. I'm not that far gone' Chloe thinks to herself.

Tho, it really feels like it when she hears Red's whispers in her ear. "Something is up with Bridget and I need you to ask her about it."

Red went straight to the point and that was like a well needed cold shower for Chloe, once she progressed what was said.

Red's expression shows concern and impatience, as she moves next to Chloe and nudges her to Bridget.

Bridget was confused, about why they are whispering. And amused, about their closeness.

She gave them a curious mischievous grin and she raises one eyebrow as they both turn to her and Red nudges Chloe.

She's happy she met those two. They are a helpful distraction. But also just fun company, if weird sometimes. But hey! Who isn't weird?

---

Why is Red so anxious? What is going on with Bridget? Is Chloe really so far gone?

Two of them are actually already answered I think.

...

Some things were maybe too much and or don't make sense.

I'm not in the mood to read over it and check if things are ok. Maybe some day lol.

Hope you liked it tho!

Byeee

To @corgiplays

Hello again Amore.

Me has once more question.

If you have the time and motivation to do it. I'd adore if your beautiful creative mind for fashion would help again. If not, that's okay! I adore you either way <3 Love you 😙

Sincerely,

Your loving idiot

[lucygxybaird]

i've just a seen a face, i can't forget the time or place where we just met. she's just the girl for me, and i want all the world to see we've met. had it been another day, i might have looked the other way, and i'd have never been aware. but as it is, i'll dream of her tonight. (i've just seen a face - the beatles) Billy treats his mother to a night of live music, thinking she deserves to have a little bit of fun. He doesn't expect to meet a sweet, scintillating songbird named Lucy Gray Baird.

“Oh, Billy, I’m not sure about this—”

Kathleen McCarty hesitates on the threshold of the saloon, her hand tucked into the crook of Billy’s arm as though to restrain him from going inside. The double doors are thrown open to catch the hint of spring in the air, musing spilling out into the street along with the lamplight. It’s already crowded, a band going full swing on a makeshift stage at the back of the cavernous room. The dance floor is so packed that Billy can only catch a glimpse of an elbow here, a swirl of a skirt there, a tip of a hat or tap of a boot. 

He desperately wants to go in.

Billy offers his mother an encouraging smile. “Ma, come on, it’ll be fun. Please? Please? We won’t stay for very long, I promise,” he says, unabashedly wheedling. “Just a song or two. You deserve to have some fun.”

God knows that’s true. Between working herself to the bone, taking care of him and Joe, and dealing with Antrim’s special sort of bullshit, Kathleen doesn’t have any time for herself. And Billy remembers well how much she and his father used to love to dance. “I’ll ask the band if they know any Irish folk tunes,” he adds, grinning, and his expression only brightens when Kathleen smiles back at him. 

“Oh, well,” she says. “Alright. But only a song or two, do you hear?” She pauses. “Do you think the band knows Téir Abhaile Riú?”

Billy laughs, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll ask,” he says again. “Come on.”

He leads his mother inside, just as the band finishes their song. The young woman standing in center stage beams, and Billy thinks he actually feels his heart flutter for a second. She’s tiny — standing in her heeled boots, she may not even come up to his shoulder, although it’s hard to tell with her standing up there — but she exudes a blaze of energy, drawing the eye the way a fork of lightning will steal all eyes from the stars. 

“Thank you, thank you!” She spreads her arms wide as if to embrace the whole room. “My name is Lucy Gray Baird, we’re the Covey, and I promise, we’ll be right back after we wet our whistles for just a minute or two.”

She jumps down with the light, easy grace of a deer bounding through the woods, landing right in front of him. Billy is aware of the other members of the band — there’s a flash of blonde curls, the impossibly sharp angle of an elbow that can only belong to a teenage boy going through a growth spurt, and a young woman hauling a bass at her side — but he can’t take his eyes off Lucy Gray. When she smiles at him, his own smile is tugged from him as naturally as the moon pulling the tides toward shore.

“I think those might be the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, but it’s hard to tell with that hat hanging over your face,” she says. “Let me check.”

Reaching up, Lucy Gray actually picks his hat up off his head, holding it down by her side like it belongs to her. She tilts her head, wrinkling her nose as though considering the depth of color on his eyes. “Yep,” she says, putting the hat firmly back on for him. “Blue, just like I thought. Maybe the bluest. Definitely the prettiest.”

Billy, trying to cover the fact that he’s now blushing furiously, says: “Why don’t I buy you a drink for getting it right?” 

Lucy Gray smiles at him again. “What would I have gotten for being wrong?”

“A drink,” Billy says, and she laughs. 

She leads the way toward the bar, and slips onto the stool, swinging her booted feet idly. Billy slides onto the stool next to hers, waving down the bartender. “Whiskey,” he says. “And—”

He looks over at Lucy Gray. She raises an eyebrow, grinning up at him. “A whiskey for me, too, sugar.”

As the bartender pours them each a drink, Billy touches the brim of his hat, nodding at her. She giggles. “My name is Billy,” he says. “I brought my ma in to hear the music.”

He looks over at Kathleen, who has found a table near the door. She waves at him, and he waves back. Lucy Gray wiggles her fingers, blowing Kathleen a kiss. “I can see where you get those lovely eyes of yours from,” she says, propping her chin on the heel of her palm. 

She picks up her glass and takes a long sip, closing her eyes as if in pleasure. He watches the way her long, dark eyelashes flutter, how her lips purse on the rim of the glass. All of a sudden, he’s desperately thirsty in a way whiskey won’t fix, but he downs half his own order in one go anyway. 

Before he even has a chance to ask if she knows any Irish tunes, Lucy Gray says: “Does your ma wanna hear anything special?”

When Billy makes his request, she smiles and hops down from her stool. “You bring her right up front,” she says. “We’ll sing just for her.” 

Billy grins at her and crosses the room to his mother, as the band starts to gather up on stage again. “Come on, Ma,” he says, offering her his hand. “Lucy Gray says they’ll play your song.”

“Oh, Lucy Gray’s her name, is it?” Kathleen is smiling at him in the certain way all mothers have when they believe their children to be acting especially endearing. “I could see you two talking over there. She’s rather pretty.”

“Ma,” Billy groans softly, feeling more grateful than he can express in words that Lucy Gray is up on stage, in conversation with the willowy bass player, and she can’t possibly hear this conversation. Otherwise he would just have to hope for a very singular sinkhole to open up at his feet and swallow him whole. “We were just — I mean, I’m sure she has a…”

The words haven’t even left his mouth and already he finds them upsetting. Lucy Gray having a beau has only occurred to him just now, and he finds himself looking around the room, trying to find a a man young enough for her — one sitting alone, maybe, eyes trained on the stage like he can’t bear to look away. But it looks like every man here (apart from Billy himself) is too old, or with someone, or both. He relaxes a little. 

They find a place in front of the stage. Lucy Gray catches his eye, and she winks at him. Billy feels his face flush and wonders if the pink in his cheeks is visible with the lights of the stage shining in her eyes. 

“Oh, no, I saw the way she was looking at you,” Kathleen says, patting his arm. “If she’s seeing someone, she won’t be by the end of the evening, I’ll warrant.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but then music starts to tumble from the stage like a living thing -- drums gamboling and fiddles stepping lightly through the air, the strumming of a guitar twirling after them. Lucy Gray is standing center stage again, keeping time with a hand at her hip. 

“Look how the lights of the town, the lights of the town are shining now — tonight I’ll be dancing around, I’m off on the road to Galway now…” 

She steps lightly forward, arms sweeping in a graceful circle as her feet tap on the boards, the hem of her skirt belling outward as she twirls. He watches her light up from the inside out, beaming, eyes gleaming. 

“Look how she’s off on the town, she’s off on a search for sailors, though. There’s fine fellas here to be found, she’s never been on to stay at home—”

The bass player and the girl with blonde ringlets framing her face like a nimbus of gold lean forward, adding their voices to hers. 

“Home you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ll work to do in the morning. Give up your dreams of going away, forget your sailors in Galway.”

All the members of the band join in for the chorus, stamping their feet to the rhythm of the Irish tune. Kathleen is positively beaming at Billy’s side, clapping her hands in time. He keeps stealing glances at her in between drinking in Lucy Gray’s performance, thinking that he can’t remember the last time he’s seen his mother so happy. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

The crowd around them has started to pair off, letting the fast, heady rush of the music carry them around the floor. Billy turns to his mother, grinning and holding out his hand once more — but before he can take it, he hears a light clatter of boots and turns to see Lucy Gray, grinning widely herself. She bobs a curtsey to Kathleen and puts out her own hand, beckoning encouragingly. 

“Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where there’s fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there…”

He expects his mother to demure, huddle against him, but instead, she puts her hand in Lucy Gray’s like she’s known the girl all her life. Lucy Gray doesn’t miss a beat as the two girls left on stage carry on the tune. 

“Watch now, he’ll soon be along — he’s finer than any sailor, so, come now and pick up your spoons. He’s waiting to hear you play them, whoo!”

Billy can’t stop himself from laughing from sheer joy and pleasure as he watches the years fall away from his ma, her dark curls flying away from her face, her eyes brightening and her feet just as light as her partner’s twinkling toes. Lucy Gray is laughing even as she sings, the sweetness of her voice warming with ripples of joy. 

“Here today and she’s gone tomorrow, and next she’s going to Galway. Jiggin’ around and off to town, and won’t be back until the morning.”

He’s aware of a flash of yellow from the corner of his eye, and he looks down to see the little blonde singer, putting out her hands to him. Billy bows, one hand over his heart and the other folding behind his back, and the girl smiles up at him. He takes her by the hand and they whirl onto the floor, finding themselves by Lucy Gray and his mother. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

He realizes, with a kick to his heart, that his ma is singing along. He can’t remember the last time he’s heard her sing, or even hum. Idly, picking up the girl and spinning around with her in his arms, he thinks he’ll have to ask his mother what the Gaelic chorus means. 

“Off with a spring in my step, the sailors are searching Galway for a young lady such as myself, for reels and jigs and maybe more…”

Lightly, with no signal at all except a flick of Lucy Gray’s dark head, she darts to one side and Billy’s partner to the other, with the blonde taking Kathleen’s hand and twirling under her arm. Kathleen laughs, and Lucy Gray snatches up Billy’s hands, tugging him closer. 

“Stay here and never you mind the lights of the town are blinding you. The sailors, they come and they go, but listen to what’s reminding you — handsome men surrounding you, dancing a reel around you…”

Singing of handsome men, Lucy Gray leans up on her toes, her lips at his ear, as if the words are just for him. He turns his head to hide his grin, but he catches a glimpse of her dark eyes, and he knows that she saw. It doesn’t really burn him, this idea. It doesn’t burn him at all, actually. 

“Home you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stay, and you’ve got work to do in the morning. Give up your dream of going away, forget your sailors in Galway…”

Billy knows most of the people on the dance floor, by sight if not by name — the old woman who works at the inn where they stayed when they first arrived in town; the owner of the Chinese laundry and his wife, neither of whom he’s seen smile this wide before; his mother’s friend Hattie, who is clasped in the arms of—

“Mr. Upson, is that you?” Billy calls to him over the music, unable to keep from laughing again. 

Mr. Upson just grins at him and frees a hand from Hattie’s waist to tip his hat toward Billy. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

As Billy turns again, Lucy Gray still grasping his hands like she’ll never let go, she leans back on her heels. He whirls her around, easy as you please; she’s light as a feather, and in any case, he would sooner drop an anvil on his foot than drop this girl right now. 

“Listen to the music flow, I’m falling for the flow of home. I’m home to dance til dawning…”

Her voice warms him from the inside out, song flowing from her lips like the finest of wines, and he knows he’s not the only one getting drunk on the sound of her. Everyone, his mother included, is flushed with exertion and a giddy happiness that drives the years and their troubles away like the gentle mornings of spring driving away all thought of winter’s chill. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

Lucy Gray keeps one of his hands in hers and reaches for other for Kathleen, who is still dancing with the tiny blonde singer. Kathleen grabs onto Lucy Gray’s hand, looking up at Billy with starlight still caught in her eyes; Billy, for the first time in his life, understands how one can cry for joy. It’s like he’s so happy that he can’t contain it, a sweet ache that starts in his chest and spreads upwards, until his throat is tight and the corners of his eyes sting. Still, he wouldn’t trade the decision to come in here tonight for anything in the world. 

For more reason than one. 

“Stay a while and we’ll dance together now, as the light is falling. We’ll reel away til the break of day, and dance together till morning…”

The blonde girl reaches for Mr. Upson’s hand, and on his other side, Hattie reaches for someone else. Soon the dancers on the floor have formed a ring, whirling around in a feverish, excited circle, as the song plunges toward the chorus one last time. 

“Téir abhaile riú, tèir abhaile riu — téir abhaile ríu, Mherai, téir abhaile riú gus fan sa bhaile — mar tá do mhargadh déanta…”

As the Covey members still up onstage bring the song to an end with a flourish, Lucy Gray jumps nimbly back onto the boards, twirling around and spreading her hands. Kathleen ends up pressed against Billy’s side, giggling like a girl, her hair a mess and her smile firmly fixed on her face. Billy puts an arm around his mother’s shoulders to steady her as the crowd collects itself enough to burst into rapturous applause.

“Thank you! Thank you for comin’ out tonight, and joinin’ me in our final song—!”

The crowd groans, Billy included. Kathleen digs an elbow into his ribs. 

“—for tonight!” Lucy Gray insists. “For tonight. I promise y’all, we’re not goin’ anywhere just yet. In case you forgot, I’m Lucy Gray Baird, we’re the Covey, and I swear, we’ll be back to sing for you soon!”

Billy guides his mother over to the bar, the better to escape the crush of people as they start to leave. It seems that with the Covey done for the evening, most of the crowd is done, too. A few stragglers follow them to the bar and occupy the stools, but a few moments later, the place is nearly empty. 

“Ready to go?” Billy says, putting a hand on the small of Kathleen’s back, ready to guide her out. 

Instead of answering him, she flicks her dark blue gaze to the side of him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll wait for you at the door,” she says, and Billy turns to see Lucy Gray standing at his side, looking up at him with a scrap of paper peeking between her fingertips.  

“Your ma is quite the dancer,” she says, and Billy chuckles. “So are you.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” He tips his hat to her again, and she bobs her head in response. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Ma like that. It’s been…” He falters, thinking of how she used to be, before Pa died. He pulls a smile onto his face from somewhere deep. “It’s been a while.”

Lucy Gray surprises him by taking his hand and squeezing it lightly, once, before letting go. She doesn’t pry, but she says, “Well, you two should come back sometime.” 

Before he can say they (sure as hell) will, a voice calls out from the back room: “Lucy Gray! We’ve leaving!”

She smiles and leans up to kiss his cheek. “Maude Ivory,” she says. “Your little dance partner.” She puts a hand to her mouth and adds in a stage whisper, “She thinks you’re cute. So do I.”

With Billy befuddled and blushing, she turns to go, crossing the room in light, graceful strides. As she disappears through a curtained door by the bar, Billy feels the whisper of paper against his palm and turns his hand over. He smiles at the note she’s passed him. 

If you want to see me before our next show (Thursday, 8 p.m.), meet me at the meadow by the old Willow Ford farm tomorrow night. I like to watch the stars come out. 

- Lucy Gray Baird.

He isn’t sure what compels to do it, but he finds himself lifting the scrap of paper to his lips and kissing her signature on the page, before slipping it into his pocket. Billy goes to join his mother at the door, and he barely registers the way she’s looking at him with that indulgent little smile on her face. He walks her home in a sort of daze, thinking that the sun has only just now set, and he can’t wait for it to do it again tomorrow. 

The next time the sun goes down, and the stars start to twinkle in their sea of indigo velvet, he knows that’s when he’ll see her again. 

[l1llina]

Going up

Alhaitham x fem!reader

Prompt: He wanted her job and it would be easy enough to

After the dream Samsara, Alhaitham ended up as the new Grand Sage. However, he still misses his old job as the scribe. He asks around in hopes he can take up his old position again but he had already been replaced. His replacement was you.

Alhaitham despite practicing stoicism was upset to say the least. He was frowning slightly, as compared to his neutral, indifferent expression. He knew someone would take up his position soon but he didn't expect it to be that soon. He taps your desk and you jolt.

"Hello Grand Sage, how may I help you today ?" Y/N spoke.

On the desk, he can see texts from 100-1000 years ago. Stacks of paper are piled on top and there is a pillow, blankets and cups of tea.

"Hello. Scribe, what is your name ?". He asked.

"I'm Y/N. Are you looking for some documents ? I'm happy to help. Or maybe, you need to find someone ? Uhh, or uhh." She stuttered

Alhaitham was thinking. His first thought was Y/N was a different scribe than he was, more expressive, less poignant. She even acted like a sort of secretary even though her job was to record historical data.

"I am Alhaitham, I am not the Grand Sage so please just call me by my name." He voiced.

Y/N is sweating in her chair. Why was the Grand Sage rejecting his position. That is so weird. Why is he here to talk to the scribe of all people? Did he come here because she was suspicious. Did she look like the type of person who would stage a coup d'état. The last person who interacted with him was sent to jail, or that was what she remembered.

"I used to be the scribe." Alhaitham admitted.

"Oh-" Y/N gasped.

She was starting to piece what was happening but it still seemed he was here for something else.

The cogs in Alhaitham's head was turning. She doesn't understand and this was going to be an awkward situation. Just look at her, she's hyperventilating. This is going to take more time than he wanted it to.

Y/N is trembling. He was either here to get his job back, fire her for being incompetent or she was suspected of being a war criminal! In all those scenarios, her peaceful life would be over.

"I swear I'll get better at my job!". She exclaimed, hoping that was the reason he was here. For being bad at her job.

Al Haitham glanced over and these were his next words. "You are a better scribe than I was. You really seem to put your all into this job."

"I am actually here because I don't like being the Grand Sage that is all. I was hoping to be the Scribe again but here you are. It is well deserved, might I say"

Y/N blushed and smiled. His compliment meant a lot to her. She sighs too because he was a nice guy and he looked disappointed. She couldn't really do anything to cheer him up except give up her position but she can't do that. This job was perfect for her.

Y/N proposes "I'm sorry, you seem very nice. Even if I quit this position, could you become the Scribe again ? There's no better person for the Grand Sage but you.." She smiles

Truth be told, she was right. Nahida didn't intend to let Alhaitham quit being the Grand Sage despite his wishes, the only way would be to find a more competent Grand Sage.

"I have some ideas for replacements. Like, the Traveler or Nahida herself or maybe the Wanderer. Maybe even Faruzan could work. You should try before you give up. If you find someone we'll have a challenge to see who's the better scribe. If you win, I quit." Y/N smiles

Alhaitham looked at her this time, with his usual indifferent look. She was very kind and a little dumb. She doesn't have to give up her job if she doesn't want to. She's too nice. But a challenge sounds good, the job will go to someone who rightfully deserves it and both parties can leave satisfied afterwards.

2 weeks pass, and Y/N was right not to lose hope. Nahida actually budged on her decision. Alhaitham had found a suitable candidate and that candidate would take over but only if Alhaitham won the challenge and quit. Nahida is also very kind and it's a nice thing the people of Sumeru get to have her as an archon.

The challenge to determine who was the best Scribe was decided. Whoever could translate more texts within an hour wins, quality will be taken into account of course.

On the day of the challenge, Alhaitham arrived in a nice suit. It was to celebrate getting his job back. On the other end, we have Y/N who had eyebags from studying the night before.

It starts and Y/N manages to translate 2 whole texts in 15 minutes but Alhaitham was already on his 4th text. She was behind by 1 text. To make up for the loss of time, she translated 4 texts roughly in 10 minutes and decided to clean them up later. In the last 2 minutes, Alhaitham had 11 fully translated texts and Y/N had 10 fully translated texts, her strategy had worked, but it wasn't enough. The gong chimes and Y/N seemed to have lost. Her only hope was that her translations were better than his.

10 minutes pass and the winner is announced.

It's Alhaitham. He smiles with a wide grin. He looked so happy. Y/N was very tired but she applauded him. It was a good fight. She then slumped on the desk and fell asleep for the last time as the Scribe, in the Scribe's office.

At 11 pm, a silhouette is spotted. It carries Y/N to the couch in her office, covers Y/N with a blanket and puts a pillow under her head. He kisses her forehead and leaves a bouquet of flowers for her to wake up to. The night was a sad one for Y/N. It was beautiful, serene and joyful. It was almost mocking Y/N's current state. It's the end of her peaceful job and life. Tomorrow she'll be jobless. She'll find another job surely but how she'll miss her old one. She understands Alhaitham better and realised how much the two of them were similar for their love of being the Scribe.

In the morning, Y/N is gently woken up by her ex-rival, Alhaitham. He smiles at her with no malicious intent to be found. It saddens her but she smiles. He was happy now. He even looked a little red but Y/N was still groggy from the all nighter she pulled the day before.

He slowly slides an arm behind her back and Y/N leans into his touch. What a weird guy. She closes her eyes again before he hugs her. He was hiding his face in her neck but Y/N started blushing too. Was she overthinking again, why would a guy hug a girl when she just woke up.

A letter is slid into her bag. Y/N packs up and leaves to go home. Before she did, Alhaitham asked where she lived since he wanted to see her again. She tells him and leaves. Unbeknownst to her, Alhaitham follows and waits at a nearby café. He had something else he wanted to say to her.

"What's this in my bag?"

Hello Y/N, You have been recommended to be the new Grand Sage. I know it is very sudden but the previous Grand Sage and I agreed you would be quite suitable. Why you may ask ? Well first of all, you were the Scribe and our previous Grand Sage was a scribe too. Second of all, I believe Grand Sages have to be kind to the people and encouraging. How else would people keep learning if they aren't motivated to do so ? Please refer Alhaitham to give us your answer. Sincerely, Nahida

... A gust of wind is felt as the door of Y/N's residence flutters open. Y/N is running, she's crying, beaming with joy, laughing and out of breath. Alhaitham sees her and walks in front of her path. The sight of his cru- ahem friend was so beautiful to see.

"YES! I accept!"

The man was blushing. It sounded like something else. The people in front of the cafe started clapping. A few "CONGRATULATIONS!" can be heard. Y/N realises what's happening and starts blushing too.

Alhaitham readjusts his collar. "Noted. Greetings Grand Sage". Alhaitham pressed a kiss to her forehead. He was worried he was a little too forward but surprise, surprise. Y/N asked "Can I kiss you ?". An agreement was reached and Y/N and Alhaitham press a chaste kiss on each other's lips.

Oho~ How the tables have turned ~~

[-The End-]

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Little Bunny 8 (Finale)

Yandere William Afton/Steve Raglan x reader

Dead dove do not eat! - you will get exactly what's in the tags!

Tags: FNAF, mature themes, some fnaf lore, kidnapping, death of character, explicit description of murder - 18+!!, William being kinda horny(?), possessive William, yandere themes.

Note: I will put a warning when the explicit murder description happens and ends! Don't say I didn't warn you, I am not joking around.

Your first Five Nights at Freddy's are coming to an end

5th Night

12 AM

You watched the security cameras while your friend was standing beside you. After some time you pulled out your phone and scrolled through social media as your friend did the same. Soon Freddy stood at the door, staring through the glass, "Oh, Freddy's here!" your friend grinned and opened the door for Freddy to come in as both of you hugged him and watched his happy expressions he made. Soon after Freddy arrived, Chica followed suit and arrived too, then Bonnie and lastly Foxy. They were happy to see you two.

You reached in your bag and pulled out drawings of each Animatronic you made. First you showed the drawing of Freddy to him and gave it to Freddy. He made his now familiar expressions when he was really happy, wiggling his ears and eyebrows.

Second was Chica, she closed her eyes and let her beak hang open as if to express her happiness.

Then came Bonnie. He wiggled his ears and motioned for you to hug him.

Lastly, Foxy. His mouth hanged open and he wiggled his ears with his one eye closed to express his excitement.

You and your friend exchanged laughter and giggles as you reached into your bag again and pulled out one drawing of all the Animatronics standing side by side with Golden Freddy sitting infront of them on the stage while they are performing. They all did their happy expressions.

1:30 AM

The Animatronics kept you company until it was time for them to slowly make their way back to their places. First Foxy left, then Chica, after her Bonnie made his way and lastly, just as he came first, Freddy left but both of you hugged each Animatronic as they were about to leave. Soon enough, the two of you were chilling inside the office.

Meanwhile, William was watching again, slowly preparing the Springbonnie suit. He checked his arm for the last time and replacing the bandages with fresh ones. The pain was still there, but not as intense as last night. William could move his arm perfectly fine, the only thing that was there were the bandages, the little amount of pain and the acknowledgement of the wounds turning into scars once healed. William then made his way to the Pizzeria.

2 AM

"Hey, wanna show me the Golden Freddy animatronic you hid inside?" your friend asked curiously and you laughed a little, "Why? You wanna walk around as an animatronic?" you chuckled. Your friend laughed, "No, I just wanna see it, that's all." she shrugged.

Both of you went to the kitchen but on the way your friend stumbled upon a paper on the wall

"Five children vanished at Freddy's"

She stopped and pointed at it, "Did you saw that?" she asks as you shook your head "Nope. I didn't pay close attention to the articles across the wall." you pulled the article off the wall and started to read it.

"Those poor kids." you sighed as your friend read the article after.

"Since the 80's? Damn..."

You spotted another one and read through it, "It says people were complaining about a foul smell coming from the... Animatronics?"

Your friend gave you a confused look "What?" she grabbed the article from your hand and read it for herself, "Do you think the Animatronics have something to do with the dissapearing of those kids?" she asked

"I don't know but maybe the yellow freak does have something to do with it? I mean...he wears a suit..." you shrugged.

"Hey theres more." your friend pointed out and took another one off the wall, "Gosh, I can't believe you've missed all those articles." she told you as you raised your hands defensively, "Oh I'm sorry, I simply wasn't paying attention." your shrugged before continuing, "What does it say?"

"It says 'Franchise founders William Afton and Henry Emily part ways after multiple children disappearances'" she answers and begins to read. "Damn...imagine you have created one of the most famous Pizza places in the 80's, kids went missing there and now the owners part ways. Almost as if...forgetting everything and letting it fall apart...a tragedy..." you said slowly with a hint of sympathy in your tone.

You then took a look around the wall, finding multiple other articles across it,

'Grand re-opening'

'The Toy Animatronics got scrapped'

'Highlight of the 80's'

'Visitors complain about strange smell coming from the Animatronics'

'Founders refuse to get the Pizzeria wrecked'

'Night Guard wanted'

"Hey, wanna go back to the office? I have a bad feeling now." You glanced over to your friend who agreed with a nod before walking back to the office.

2:10 AM

"4 more hours and your first week is done. How do you feel about that?" Your friend glanced over to you with a curious expression "Uh, I don't know how I should feel. But I hope Mr. Raglan informed the police and they soon arrest that bastard who attacked me." you answered and turning your attention back towards the security cameras.

"I just googled one of the owners, Henry Emily, he looks like a really nice guy." your friend said and showed you a picture of Mr. Emily,

a man who looks like being in his 50's, golden hair with a warm smile on his face.

"Did you find anything about the other owner? William Afton?" you asked as your friend shook her head, "Nope, no picture. But he was an engineer, I found out that Henry Emily designed the Animatronics and William Afton was the one who created them."

Your friend kept scrolling and after a while she found something else about Henry Emily,

"Oh damn...just read an article that said Henry Emily committed suicide after being framed for the potential kids disappearances, he couldn't live with the consequences." she pointed out

"And let me guess, he was innocent right? Poor guy." you sighed, turning back to watch the cameras and then...

Everything went dark, the lights went out, doors opened

"What the hell?!" Your friend jumped, "What happened?" while you stood up and went to the switch on the wall, "It's alright, it's alright. The power here is a little quirky." You assured her and flipped the switch, turning the power back on.

"Well, better than sitting here in complete darkness, I guess." your friend chuckled nervously making you laugh in response, "Yep, that's true."

2:20 AM

"Hey uh, I gotta pee." Your friend stood up and opened the right door, "No worries, take your time." you answered. "I'll be right back!" your friend said and made her way out towards the restrooms.

----------

Your friend finished her business, washed her hands and was about to leave the restroom when suddenly there was an Animatronic standing in the doorway, it was yellow, tall and looked like a rabbit with his right ear chipped off

"Oh shit." she jumped and held her chest, "Hey, what the hell? I thought you said it was a golden Freddy not a--" she backed off slowly realizing it isn't you, "Yellow fucking Rabbit..." she whispered as the Rabbit stepped closer. Your friend let out a scream as the Rabbit quickly lunged at her, pushing her hard against the wall and knocking her out on the spot.

Meanwhile your ears perked up, you turned your head to the direction and looking through the small window, "Hey! Are you okay in there?" You called out. After not receiving an answer you slowly made your way to the restrooms, Upon arrival you spotted some blood on the wall, you walked closer to it and noticed it looks fresh. You looked around and then made your way to search around the Pizzeria, calling out your friends name. After a while of searching, you wondered if there is a secret room you didn't knew of. You searched through the main area, looking into the stage where Freddy, Bonnie and Chica where. You noticed a door handle in the wall and made out the frames of a door, hard to notice by the wall. You slowly approached it and hearing faint noises coming from inside. You put your left ear against the door to take a listen, you heard something being activated, and then heard sounds like buzzing saws.

Suddenly you heard whimpers... sounding like the voice of your friend. You quickly opened the door and stumbled inside the room, what you saw terrified you, there were Animatronic suits laid across a wall, blood on the ground and a head of a dead man poking out of a purple Freddy suit.

At the center of the room was a chair with metal straps, a grey-ish Freddy head with saws inside his head, it was activated and slowly moving towards a person strapped onto the chair. There was an Animatronic standing there, looking at the person, you noticed it was the Yellow Rabbit, but he didn't hear you entering because of the loud noise coming from the buzzing saws.

The Rabbit turned around, revealing your friend strapped onto the chair with duct tape clamped over her mouth, she tried to wiggle out of the restraints as the Freddy head slowly but surely inched closer and closer to her face.

"No! Please! D-don't!" you begged the yellow rabbit, but it just chuckled menacingly, "You should thank me. Because if you weren't so special to me then it would be you strapped onto there." It said as you watched in horror how your friend started to cry, trying to beg the yellow rabbit to release her. "Please don't kill her, I'll do anything, please!! We will leave, and won't tell anyone, I promise, please just let her go!" Your eyes began to tear up as there wasn't much time left before the Freddy head meets with your friends face.

The rabbit chuckled again, "This creation is called Torture Freddy. Specifically designed to untangle wires of endoskeletons, but... it also makes a great face grinder, don't you think? I've done a pretty good job with it." It says as you paused to think, "You...you're one of the owners!" you pointed out as the rabbit laughed, "Oh, someone did their homework, I see!"

"Any last words to your friend? Ready to see her die?" the rabbit asks as Torture Freddy was close to your friend's face.

"Why...why are you doing this to her? She's innocent!!" You shouted, the yellow rabbit took one step closer to you, raising his right arm that got springlocked, "Because of this! And now she is paying the price for your disobedience." it growled.

You quickly looked around for something and you spotted an Endoskeleton arm, you grabbed it and raised it, "Stop that thing or I will make sure you get Springtrapped!" you threatened the rabbit but it chuckled once again, "See? I was right on you being special, bunny. But I don't think it will be that easy for you to do that." he pointed out, you swinged the endo arm at the rabbit, making it stumble backwards and into a shelf with Animatronic parts. You took the distraction and ran towards your friend, Torture Freddy's head is now inches away from kissing her face with it's sharp saws. You pressed a button under her left hand, deactivating Torture Freddy but you were harshly grabbed by the collar of your shirt and thrown away from the device. You landed on the floor but quickly got onto your knees, watching the Rabbit standing beside the torture device and looking down at you, "You've got such a fight in you, little bunny...but that won't save your friend." It growled.

(THIS IS THE PART MENTIONED IN THE TAGS, IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE VIOLENCE, SKIP THIS PART!!!)

(don't say I didn't warn you, because I did!!)

Suddenly Torture Freddy got activated again and it's saws made contact with your friend's cheeks, slowly slicing open her skin, cutting through the flesh and muscles, your friend screamed in pain, instinctively moving her head to escape, but Torture Freddy went on and on, the saw on it's forehead made contact with your friend's head, slicing the skin open, and cutting through her skull. Soon your friend wasn't screaming anymore and her body was twitching as the saw reached her brain. Torture Freddy then stopped, retracting itself and revealing the face of your friend, which is now a mangled mess of flesh.

(VIOLENT PART IS NOW OVER, YOU ARE FREE TO PROCEED)

"No!!" You screamed, breaking into tears as the Rabbit just stood there and watched you breaking down.

You quickly stood up, wiping the tears away and running out of the torture room. But as you ran out, you collapsed against Chica, tripping and falling off of the stage, you groaned in pain as you looked up and saw the yellow rabbit walking out of the room, your heart raced so fast you thought you would get a heart attack. The rabbit jumped down from the stage and stopped infront of you, towering over your paniced form, he slowly moved both of his hands on either side of the rabbit mask and removed it slowly, revealing himself. Your eyes widened in shock, your jaw dropped as you realized Steve Raglan being inside the suit all along.

"Mr. Ragl--" You got cut off by William, "Not Steve Raglan. Call me William Afton." he corrected you.

"Why did you do this? Why?" Your eyes began to tear up again, "Well, I told you you're different. And special." William shrugged, stepping slowly towards you.

"Please William, don't kill me..." you begged him. At hearing his name from your lips, begging him, was like music to his ears, he could feel his cock twitch once again.

"Oh, no no no. I'm not gonna kill you. You're such a sweet little thing... I wouldn't dare to kill you." William made clear as you slowly stood up, "Then what do you want? What do you want from me?" you snapped at him.

"You. I want you." was all William answered. "What? Why me?" you asked which made William grin, "I already told you. When you accepted the job, you also accepted being mine. Come on, why else would I have given you this job, where you would be all alone... all mine..." William said in a husky tone as he continued stepping closer to you, making you back off.

"Come on, don't try to run away." William chuckled and tilted his head a little, still walking towards you in a slow pace.

Ignoring his words, you quickly dashed away, sprinting towards the office and closed the door. You pulled out your phone, dialed 911 and called the police "This is the local Police, please state your emergency." An officer spoke, his tone firm. "You have to send someone over to the abandoned Freddy Fazbear Pizzeria! My friend just got murdered!" you said with panic in your tone. "The old Pizzeria?! What the hell are you doing there?" the officer asked, thinking you're just making some sort of a prank call.

"I am the night guard here, now get someone over here! Please!" You pleaded. "Alright, calm down. We've got some reports of missing night guards at the place. Please stay in the office, remain calm, officers are on their way. They will arrive in 10 minutes." The officer replied and hung up.

Bang!

"Do you think the police will save you, huh?" William was infront of the little window beside the door. "They will arrest you too!" you snapped back at him, making him laugh "Aww, you really think that, hm?"

"As long as I'm inside here I will be safe." you told him as William smiled wickedly at you and walking away. You stood there confused, wondering what William is going to do. William came back one minute later, he turned to face the small window and raised his right hand, carrying an axe. "You better open that door bunny, or I will make my way inside there and drag you out!" he threatened dangerously and slammed the axe into the small window as a warning, breaking the glass. You felt yourself getting scared again as you watched William remove the remaining glass shards and getting into position to climb through and make it into the office. You spared no time, you grabbed the fan on the desk and threw it at William, making him jump out of the way as you quickly opened the other door and ran out, pulling out the keys and heading towards the entrance. You could hear faint police sirens approaching.

Adrenaline coursed through your being as you felt the hope inside you building up. Hearing metal steps approach, you quickly unlocked the entrance and ran outside the building, seeing faint blue light flashes and running towards them when suddenly a large hand clamped over your mouth and a strong arm wrap around your torso, pulling you back against a hard chestplate making you whimper in fear.

"You fucking brat." William whispered into your ear, his beard brushing against it causing an ice cold shiver run down your spine.

All you could do was whimper as William began to drag you back into the Pizzeria and away from the Police sirens slowly approaching the Pizza place.

"You thought you could escape me, hmm?" William's breath was hot as his long tongue darted out and licked the shell of your ear, making you squirm and wiggle against his too strong grip.

William removed his hand over your mouth and reached behind, pulling out a cloth and pressing it against your mouth and nose. As the sweet smell reached your nose, you began to realize what was happening, you tried to hold your breath as long as possible but eventually failed and soon you lost conciousness.

"Sweet dreams, my little bunny."

----------

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open as you slowly woke up, looking around and noticing you were laying in a cozy bed, a blanket gently wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Slowly you sat up, looking around the room, it was a big bedroom, the sky outside purple, you pushed the blanket aside as you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom, a shadow covering the light from underneath the door as it slowly opened, revealing William Afton standing there, "How was your nap little sleeping beauty?" he asked with a hoarse tone before stepping into the room.

"Where am I?" you asked as William stopped infront of the bed "You're at my house, where I intent to keep you from now on." he answered with a lopsided smile

"No, please. Let me go." you pleaded and William sat down on the edge beside you, cupping your cheeks in his hands and running a thumb over your trembling lips, "You will get used to it, I promise. I will take such a good care of you, bunny." William leaned in closer and placed a slow kiss on your forehead.

"You belong to me now."

[mirroredmemoriez]

Amanda Young style and fem whatnot thoughts

Once again here to speak my thoughts that nobody asked for because I love documenting my brain which I have to boot up like a chainsaw. I've spoken about Amanda's appearance before! Going over her outfits throughout the franchise and such and how I believe it kinda symbolises the stages she's at- I am in the firm belief her cutting her hair was almost like a rebirth for example.

However, right now I'm looking at the ''gender representation'' and stylisation side I guess? Which, I want to state- These are my opinions and thoughts and are by no way to say I'm like the only CORRECT view and anyone else's interpretation of Amanda that's different to mine is wrong, because I like seeing everyone's various takes on her character. With that said! I see Amanda as somebody who tries to be feminine, but can't express it truly how she wants? Down to factors such as she can't afford certain things like makeup accessories, and that she needs to have more of a practical wardrobe whilst being an apprentice. Oh! Also having to hide her identity at times. (I also want to slide in the fact that I don't think she's hyper feminine or masculine, honestly? She's just Amanda really, I wouldn't personally put a label on it when it comes to that.)

The first look we get of Amanda, she's in a way more revealing outfit than her future ones whilst working under John. This could just be her style, which to a certain degree I agree on... However there also could be an aspect of performative femininity, seeing as she's not ''reformed'' at this point and it's suggested in the Saw wiki that she has prostituted herself to be able to fund her drug addiction before. Basically, catering to the male gaze to get what she wants. She's wearing a cut off shirt which exposes her shoulders and collar area a lot, something we don't see again until Saw 3- And even then it's still not as cut off as the purple one. Amanda also has fishnets, a skirt and boots on. If I had to say how I view Amanda' style myself, I'd go with Hot Topic thief and or something alternative like ''grungy.'' We've also got the fact she has black nail polish on, eyeliner and more curled out hair- Even when she grows it back, it's not as wavy as it's seen here, so it's possible she's either just heavily dishevelled or she purposely has maybe curled it out a little. Once again, this could possibly be her trying to look more appealing to others by ''grooming'' herself better. However, I also think she wants to just for herself really.

Now, we've got her Saw X look, which to me is the most heavily influenced by John. Amanda has cut off her hair to I guess kinda a pixie-bob cut? A big leap from her previous haircut which had it falling at least over her shoulders if not longer. She's also very bare faced, with no heavily noticeable touches of makeup anywhere to be seen. Her clothes are drastically more practical than her previous outfit. A form fitting shirt, cargo pants and combat boots. The only influence I feel she has on this outfit is the choker and little earring. You can't really blame her for the change though- Amanda just wouldn't be putting time into something like beauty cosmetics or making any fashion statement when she's got shit to do... Y'know like make death traps and kidnap people, activities where the way you look doesn't matter and you wouldn't want your clothes to get caught on something especially.

Before I fully move on to her Saw 2 look, two honourable mentions! These both showcase the fact that nowadays, when Amanda is out and about, she's trying to hide her identity. She can't really draw any attention to herself and that is reflected in what she wears. The Scott Tibbs Documentary look has to be one of my favourites, I love the skull trousers so much and they are definitely something she wears because she likes the LOOK, not just because of ''simplicity.''

(Amanda has them on again in the deleted nightmare scene as well, so it's a recurring piece of her wardrobe.)

(I also think this is her dressing for herself- Compared to her outfits when it comes to the games and abductions)

The pig outfit, though I believe can be slightly stupid at times, due to the fact that it's probably less convenient than whipping on something like a balaclava with a hoodie and a bit more out there visually too- It still does it's main intended job, which is to conceal the identity of the Jigsaw apprentices. With the one I've selected above, this is when Amanda is going to abduct Adam, so obviously this is still pretty early in the timeline? We can see a re-appearance of smudged eye makeup like in her introduction.

TRYING TO GET BACK ON TRACK! Here we have her ''blue'' outfits as I dub them. I'm aware there is a time jump between them, however generally what I have to say for them is the exact same? We can see that Amanda is growing her hair out more and I would say these are very relaxed fits. Saw 2 Amanda has to be one of her most basic outfits I'd say, a plain blue shirt and blue sweatpants to go along with it.... The wiki feet people are going insane too.

WOOOOO! ON TO ANOTHER OF MY FAVOURITE OUTFITS. YOU JUST KNOW SHE STOLE THAT BELT FROM HOT TOPIC I AM SO SORRY! Saw 3 Amanda to me is a mix between something like her look in Saw X and then her look in Saw (2004)- I also love the contrast between it and the Saw 2 look, a blue vs red type feel almost? You're definitely more inclined to see Amanda as intimidating here than in blue. Comparisons aside, let's look at the actual fit this woman has on! Once again, she sports cargo pants with a belt to accompany and combat boots too. The shirt isn't as cut off as the purple one as I stated before, but it leaves a lot of her collar and back area exposed. It's her influence alongside John's- And her almost I wouldn't say rebelling? But defining herself outside of him. If I once again want to go full English teacher analysis... We could make the reach and say that her physically exposing herself is paired with how she emotionally is exposed as well. Her lowest points if you will. BUT! We'll move on from that so I can ramble about some other accessories. Amanda is wearing a gold ring and a watch, nothing too out there but I wanted to point them out seeing as I am covering the WHOLE outfit. Her hair is now at it's original length, once again reinforcing the fact she is almost reverting back to her old style but at the same time redefining it? Hair growth to show personal growth. (Some more honourable mentions.)

Here we have her dress, leather jacket and DBD concept art! First we'll look at the dress. It's honestly really cute to me- The ribbon around her neck just really makes it AMANDA, otherwise there isn't too much to say on the design outside of that and it's colour. Then moving on to the leather jacket, it's something I can definitely see her wearing a lot on top of her other outfits. OK! This is getting super fucking long now, I'll try and finish off soon- I have to say I love the DBD concept art and the in game designs too, I can 100% see where they've taken inspiration from with the outfits. I'm in firm belief Amanda deserves to have her arm sleeves so where they've combined that and the Saw 3 look is URHG YES. I also enjoy their take on her leather look, fleshed out the design more in my opinion. Anyway... If you've somehow gotten all the way down here? Jesus Christ, thanks I guess? I am someone who loves over analysing things and discussing characters/movies like this, so I just couldn't help myself anymore. Oh, and feel free to add on to any of this, whether you agree or disagree! MAL OUT

[icanseethefuture333]

How bts views each blackpink members ?

I feel that'd be too many people to do a reading on so I'm going to keep it general and just do a reading on what BTS thinks overall of Blackpink.

What does BTS think of Blackpink?

They could keep their interactions with them very brief. In public they're not allowed to really interact with each other because people have outdated views and think that men and women can't be friends or work with each other without there being something romantic/sexual attraction between them. It could be awkward whenever they come across each other. Although, they do admire their creativity and musical expression. BTS doesn't like the comparisons that they get with Blackpink because they feel people can appreciate each of the group's artistry without it being a competition. They take the constructive criticism though and focus it on improving their skills. BTS believes they have a healthy rivalry with Blackpink. A lot of BTS members love YG artists or wanted to debut at YG, so they have no hard feelings towards with them. They could also feel they are holding up to their label's title or what YG is well known for, they think Blackpink totally fit the style of a YG group. In the future they could want to do some sort of collab if the company allows it. They are considered some of the top groups in the industry and they think it'd be a great family project. There'd have to be a lot of convincing and persuasion though in order for that collab to ever happen for BTS and Blackpink.

What does Blackpink think of BTS?

Welp I heard one member say "They're hot!" (And no I won't state who 😂). One of the girls could think BTS are very attractive, she might have been an ARMY herself. Blackpink sees BTS as all very successful, rich, and handsome group of men. "Do they ever rest?" They could be amazed by their drive or ability to work so hard consistently. It is rumored right now that V and Jennie are dating, so I believe that is what this Two of Cups is representing. They could be separated at the moment or not talking as of right now. (Clarified by Five of Cups, Nine of Pentacles (reversed), & Nine of Wands) there's some friction between Jennie and another member right now because of her dating V. I think this member liked him first and Jennie knew but got with him anyways, so this member is in her feelings about it? She feels like a friend betrayed her (phew not the girls fighting 😭, alexa play "The Boy Is Mine" by Brandy & Monica).

Moving on... Blackpink see BTS as stars. They are a group of people that went from underdogs and had to strive for their success. Again with both groups wanting to collaborate.

Would it be possible for BTS and Blackpink ever to collaborate in the future?

Hell no. If they did, they could start working on it and their companies would pull the plug on it immediately. So to avoid the disappointment and waste of time, they just won't do it. BTS and Blackpink just won't be able to complete their goal or bring it into fruition. Especially not both groups, it'd be easier maybe for one member of each group make a song or share a stage performance but they're not even willing to do that. Too much sabotage going on from their companies. They know their fanbases are too toxic for this to ever happen and could lose a lot of money if they released a song together.

[scribblestatic]

Owah, that was a lot of actual writing. Time to get back to some drabbling, I think, on this baby boy chubby Izuku.

Or maybe I'll just continue writing fr, we'll see.

Anyway.

Izuku suits up in some exercise clothes for the practical. He wears a long-sleeved, thin shirt made with some sort of synthetic blend. He also has long pants which are thicker to keep him warm, but flexible for movement. To supplement his outfit, he wears protective gloves, elbow pads, and knee pads as well, a first-aid kit strapped to his side, something he'd learned to carry around while handling sharp glass and metal.

Fighting is something he's still not completely sure about doing, but he has to put in his all. He can do that at least.

Looking around at the others, they all seem so confident. Many of them have equipment specifically specialized to their quirks. It's pretty fascinating, and had Izuku not been entirely too nervous, he probably would've started murmuring about it.

But for now, the anxiety was too strong, so he kept his mouth shut, simply glancing around.

As he does, he sees the girl from before! The one who kept him from falling! She has her eyes closed, and she's fanning herself.

He never did get the chance to thank her for before, so he cautiously starts heading over.

But Izuku startles when a hand clasps onto his shoulder.

He finches at the touch, turning around and seeing the tall, buff guy from before. He gives Izuku a stern look, his angled brows frowning.

"You... That girl seems to be trying to concentrate. Are you trying to disturb her at such a serious time? Are you taking this entrance exam to disturb everyone else?"

"A-Ahh...n...no..."

"Then, why bother someone who is clearly trying to focus? From the time you came here, you've been nothing but a disturbance to others."

His heart pangs, and the words he'd heard from others start to weigh on him again. His fingers curl into his shirt as he looks down, fighting the urge to cry.

"I...I'm really...uhm. I'm really n-not here to...disturb anyone. I'm...sorry."

The guy sighs, then he stands up straight, crossing his arms.

"Listen. Right now, this is a time for people serious on becoming heroes to focus on the task at hand."

"I-I know. I'm sorry."

He continues to lecture Izuku, who can't help but keep looking down, finding it progressively harder to not start crying. Whispers filter over from the nearby applicants, some of whom notice him from when he almost fell and when he started murmuring during the introduction. They quickly begin to discount him, considering themselves lucky to be in the same practical exam stage as he is.

Ahh...daggomit. He really can't help it.

Izuku sniffles, turning his face away from the larger crowd. But someone still mentions, laughing lightly, that he's started to cry.

That only makes things worse, tears building up in his eyes and flowing down from his lashes as he tries to rub them away.

"I-I'm really sorry," he says softly, bowing again toward the buff teen. "I'm sorry."

"...Well. As long as you understand."

Izuku doesn't see the conflicted expression on the stranger's face. His previous righteous anger was shifting into concern. After all, he didn't think he was doing anything to prompt tears from the other boy. However, since he had been a bother, he didn't really want to comfort him, so he instead walked away, leaving the soft boy to try to styme his tears alone.

"ALRIGHT, START!"

Everyone looked up, Present Mic grinning down at them.

"There's no countdown in real fights! Get movin'~!"

Immediately, the kid start rushing into the area, prepared to fight pointer robots. Trailing behind them, Izuku follows, tears still wetting his cheeks.

The speedsters quickly leave the others behind, getting deeper into false city faster. Those who could fly take to the skies, going to look for potential enemies. But others, like Izuku, had to rely on their regular speed.

And Izuku, unlike others, ran slower. The distance between them grew, but he kept going, his pace and breathing steady.

As he ran, suddenly, something burst through a wall. A one-point robot, ready to attack!

He wasn't really used to fighting quite yet, but he'd watched videos online. Still, fighting a big robot was something he had no reference for. Quickly, his eyes start darting along the machine's body, trying to find a weak point he can try to attack. He's worked with a lot of metal by this point--he might not be a professional, but he's better at identifying weak spots than most.

But his evaluation all goes out the window the instant a gleaming light beam shoots through the robot's body.

Down a nearby road, the laser user calls out in a fancy, high-class voice, "Thanks for distracting it~!"

Izuku looks over to see a blond with long lashes who moves his arms flamboyantly.

"We made a great team! However, I don't think we'll be crossing paths again~ Adieu~!"

With a flourish, the boy runs off to find another robot to destroy, leaving Izuku with the wreckage.

He knows exactly what that boy means. He thinks that he'll pass and Izuku won't, so they'll not see each other's faces again.

However, instead of getting angry, Izuku can't help but think it can't be helped he would think that way. Nothing he's done so far would do well to prove him wrong. Izuku can't fault the flamboyant young man for his assertion, so he feels no anger at all, only dissatisfaction with himself for not being better.

Izuku picks up bits and bobs from the destroyed robot, then continues his running pace further into the area.

--- --- ---

As the teachers watch the exam, of course, they keep their eyes on promising kids who could become their future students. Iida's little brother is already a show-out success with his fast acting and strong kicks. For an underdog, the girl with what appeared to be some sort of gravity or float quirk was doing quite well, considering she wasn't physically strong. She was likely a diamond in the rough.

Other kids, despite their eagerness, ended up getting hurt or knocking themselves out of the running. One such kid ended up twisting their ankle, overstressing their quirk, and a one-pointer arrived to attack.

Of course, they wouldn't have the robots attack the kids while downed. Still, it would try to appear as though it would attack. After all, there was another part to the exam.

Just as it seemed there was no hope for the downed kid but to be spared last minute--

--another kid rammed themselves into its side. They seemed to have fashioned something of a shield out of destroyed robot parts.

At first, the robot prepared to fight, but then, the kid backed up and turned the shield to its edge. With it pinned near a building, they put their foot on part of it's body and drove the metal shield through its torso with both hands. The robot glitched, then shut off, wires inside its body pinched and cut.

"Oh, isn't it our quirkless hero applicant?" one of them says.

Izuku huffs as he backs off from the robot he downed, tugging the makeshift shield made from dented metal and thick cords back around his body. But instead of running off, he quickly approaches the downed student.

They talk back and forth a bit, but when the kid stands and tries to head off, they almost fall back to their knees. Their ankle is turning a rather red color.

It seems to take some convincing, but eventually, the kid seems to give up on resisting. Izuku quickly picks up the person and finds a quiet spot to keep them.

Some of the teachers hum, impressed. They'd set up unmarked safe zones, areas where the robots wouldn't approach. Despite there being a 10 minute time limit, Izuku was one of only a few who recognized that safe zones existed. While other kids avoided those areas, seeking danger zones, Izuku pointedly took the injured person to it.

He opened his first aid kit and took out a crush faux ice pack, instructing the kid to put it on their ankle and keep it cool. Then, he rushed off, looking for...

Other injured kids.

He seemed to have given up on trying to find a villain to fight. Instead, he focused on rescue efforts, only occasionally using his weight and shield for defensive and offensive measures. But if Izuku could flee while carrying someone, he would, often leading the pointer robot to actively fighting kids as a decoy.

With two minutes left, Izuku had set up a small group of seven injured and exhausted applicants.

There's only about two minutes left. With that in mind, they press a button.

They watch as a great rumbling spreads out across the area, dust kicked up by the release of something huge. A moment later, the zero-pointer rises up, hauling its great weight toward smaller streets, prepared to "decimate" the young hero prospects.

The reaction is immediate. Kids start fleeing as soon as one of the robot's hands crush part of the top of a building. Up above, Present Mic calls out that less than two minutes remain in the exam.

Izuku, who had been looking for any other injured person to carry away, is knocked over by a fleeing person. He falls back onto his butt, hiding his face from the dust and dirt kicked up at him. Several people pass him by without a second glance. Even Iida's kid brother looks at him briefly before speeding away.

Once he gets his bearings, he turns over, stumbling onto his hand and knees and prepares to run.

But then, he hears a voice behind him.

"Ahh, that's gotta hurt," a teacher mutters.

The girl with the floaty quirk has her leg pinned under debris. Shocked and disoriented by pain, she only focuses on futily trying to pull herself out from under the heavy concrete and rebar.

Of course, she won't get crushed. The zero-pointer would stop before doing something like that. U.A. didn't have a habit of killing kids trying to be a hero at their school.

But in such an adrenaline-filled scenario, it wasn't likely the kids would know that, or would think about it.

Judging from the way Izuku's face, the underside of his eyes still red from crying earlier, twists in utter panic, he's blindsided, just as anyone would be.

However, unlike the others, who fled in the sight of indominable power, Izuku turns tail quickly, sprinting as fast as he can to get to the girl.

He's not very fast, no. Not as fast as some of the others would've been. In fact, by the time he reaches the girl, they're both surrounded by dust kicked up by the zero-pointer rumbling above them.

Izuku rushes to where her leg's pinned. He looks over the pile quickly, squinting in the clouds. He finds the heaviest slab of concrete amongst the many around her, testing it to see if others will slip once it's moved. Confirming it won't, the girl's voice a buzz in his ears...

She's telling him to run.

Instead, he breathes in through his nose, his lungs itching from the smoke.

Then out.

His muscles push outward, flexing under his protective layers of fat. He breathes in through his nose, and blows out from between his lips, his back muscles bulging and straining. He has his knees bent, and his hold on the chunk of concrete is strong.

He grits his teeth, starting to pick it up. He's not sure how heavy it is, but it takes a good amount of his ability. Sweat builds on his brow quickly, neck straining.

"P-lea...se...make this...float?"

He manages to get it up enough for her to pull her leg free. But there's no telling if she can stand. He looks back at her, breathing out his mouth quickly. It's incredibly heavy. Had it not been for other rubble, her ankle and foot could've been crushed.

"Float it, please!!"

It's the loudest he's spoken since the day started, his lungs burning.

The girl quickly does so, and immediately, her face turns a startlingly pale shade, and her hand clamps over her mouth.

With the weight gone, Izuku moves away from her. Then, he starts spinning around, holding onto the concrete as tightly as possible. He feels his fingertips bleed under his gloves.

He shouts, letting go of the concrete as it sails toward the shadow of the zero-pointer. Then, Izuku rushes over, picking the girl up and running away.

"Release!" he calls out.

And she does, feebly pressing her fingers together.

With the momentum Izuku sent it flying, now added with the renewed weight, the large concrete chunk became a cannonball.

It slams into the robot's chest. Much like a watermelon at high speeds breaking through a car door, the concrete crushes the very metal that had formed it into a chunk.

The sudden impact has the robot leaning back, wires cut and bent out of shape. Izuku and the girl didn't know it, but his aim was impeccable. It slammed into a pertinent part of the machine, setting off a chain reaction up the zero-pointer's torso.

Only after parts of it fell off, collapsing in flames, does Izuku manage to make it out of the large dust cloud with the girl in his arms. They both turned somewhat brown from the mess, and Izuku quickly runs her toward the safe zone.

He isn't very fast, no. And he isn't fast enough to get there before the girl, completely spent, throws up on him.

But he was the only one who went back for her.

--- --- ---

By the time Recovery Girl arrives a few moments later, everyone has settled down. Their adrenaline slowly eases into calmness, and they talk amongst each other about how they think they did.

"Oh, who are those guys over there?"

"Huh?"

When they look over, they see the small crowd of people Izuku had gathered during the exam. The girl who puked on him apologizes profusely as he tentatively pulls off his over shirt, leaving him in a short-sleeved undershirt he was wearing. But as soon as his shirt is off, he's back caring for her as though the nurse hasn't already arrived.

"I, uhm, I think I have...bandages. To brace your ankle. Let's, uhm...may I do that?" he asks, his voice soft again.

"You don't have to do all of that!" the girl cries out, waving her hands at him placatingly. "Seriously! You've done more than enough!"

The others in the group, especially the ones previously begrudging about his help, chime in. Though, they seem mistaken. Instead of complimenting Izuku for helping them, they talk about how cool it was for the girl to throw the rock at the robot.

"H-Huh? W-Well, I mean, I didn't throw it! He did! I just made it float!"

"But he wouldn't have been able to pick it up without you, right?"

"No, he picked it up, mostly, it was just--"

"You got rid of the gravity on it, yeah? That was super cool! And timing it just right to hit it!!"

"B...But..."

The girl, Ochako, doesn't understand why they're so bent on complimenting her. While she appreciates it, she feels it's ignoring the one who actually saved her in the end... The boy who gives her ridiculously cute hamster eyes, like he's waiting for her to say yes to having her ankle wrapped and supported.

He doesn't try to correct them at all. Instead, he even nods when they call her cool!

"I...uhm...wouldn't have been able to throw it without your help." He smiles. It's wobbly and a bit watery, eyes irritated from the dust earlier. "Your quirk is really strong, and you can use it well. I'd be surprised if you didn't get in."

"A...Ah..."

"Alright, seems there's a small crowd of injured kids here, huh?" Recovery Girl asks, approaching steadily with her cane. "Here, here, who needs a kiss?"

"U-Uhm..."

Izuku stands up then, approaching the pro hero with his fingers worrying each other.

"The guy in the red shirt, uhm, he was knocked out when I first found him, so he could have a concussion. And the one in the red and the girl in black, pink, and white...their ankles look pretty bad. The rest mostly have scratches or exhausted their quirks."

"Oh my! What a nice young man, taking care of them... Though, I think you should take care of yourself first."

"Huh?"

Izuku then realizes he can feel something on his upper lip. He blinks, rubbing at it, trying to get it to go away. But instead, red smears onto his fingers, and he blinks, surprised.

"Seems you might have burst a vein from overexertion yourself." She curls her finger at him, so he bends down, his bloody nose still bleeding lazily. "But just to make sure nothing else is going on--"

She kisses him on the forehead, and his body gleams.

It's only then that some of the people closer to him realize exactly how injured he really was.

Bruises and cuts on his arms begin healing over. One on his back that extended up his neck was also recovering. His legs tremble under his own weight as his eyes turned from irritated and red to clear, a wave of involuntary tears washing the dust out. He gasps, his hands on his knees to keep holding himself up.

"The healing process tends to tire people out, so feel free to take a seat. Alright?"

"O...Okay..."

"Now then, let's take care of the rest of you."

Ochako watches as Izuku lowers himself to the ground unsteadily. Then, he sighs, but overall, he doesn't seem as exhausted as some of the others who received the kiss are.

When she gets her kiss and immediately feels like she's stayed up for 28 hours, she feels immensely jealous of whatever kind of energy kept that soft boy going.

[lausticzt]

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . 𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓭-𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓮 ◞ 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖊 . ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ @naitfall ⤸ “ tell  me  what  you  want. “ ( I can't resist sending you a meme . . . only if / when laura feels like it! )

How can he say that so calmly, while she struggles to hold his gaze ... a stillness in their serene that captures Laura's breath, any response she could have given hitching in her throat. Suffocating all of it / he's close enough she can feel his warmth, the feeling that she's being towered over by someone shorter then her by proximity alone, his scent completely overpowering her senses ... his eyes.

She's seen them soften, apparent even in his sharp expression, because she watches (...) more then she should. Her gaze always finding their way over to him in most scenarios. In those rare, often gruelling times of the life they lead, the brief glimpses before they revert again because it's easier to pretend ... everyone is out for themselves / all con men, with no true remorse. A witness to it, time and time again, and yet, she never believed it with them. Not him.

Levi is more human then most in every way maybe in the only way she knows. It's why she'd grown to trust him, completely. She strays from time to time, because trust was all so vulnerable. But, she never second guesses his words, doesn't have to watch out for masked lies and deceit, the way her world often disgusted her / the inner walls was a hell, where most idolised the stage play of wealth and professed perfection.

In a way, he embodied what she'd loved about the world beyond that. Raw in it's form, nothing to hide from ... in flaws, and the hardship of it's harrowing truth, was undoubtedly real. Normal in it's abnormality, to find true understanding and kinship within their world. Nothing to hold back on, nothing left to conceal. That was freeing.

Suffocating and not once did she feel she was drowning. Awkward as eyes shift, attempting to keep a steady gaze while her body runs hot. There's no silencing the pounding in her heart, she feels the growing warmth in her cheeks, burning at her ears, the lightest twitch in her eye.

It's humiliating how flustered she could still get when she's been in more intimate positions before. Laura is overbearingly commanding. It should be the other way around, she wishes to tell herself. But she can't think of anything else right now, aside from him.

And, god, does she need a moment. A hand covers half her face, finally shifting away from him, can't even mutter a curse under her breath at her own ridiculousness it's his fault, she decided. He gave her control. What she wanted.

❝ ... don't say anything. ❞ Until she gathered what dignity she had left to look at him again, to reveal the insanity of indescribable fluster that currently embodied her. A weak threat. She doesn't want him to go anywhere / don't move.