Tumgik
#// slapped a generic kitchen photo into the background because i was like 'this is a good idea'
hellguarded-moved · 10 months
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// it doesn't get gayer than the dancing in the kitchen trope
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vannahfanfics · 3 years
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Electric Love
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Category: Romantic Fluff
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Ochako Uraraka
Hey, all! Here’s my story for the Izuku Big Bang! I had the pleasure again of working with my good friend @danyartime​, so do be sure to check out her adorable art too!
Izuku bobbed his head to the upbeat poppy tune bumping from the small speakers of his desk radio. Though the volume was low to keep from disturbing his dorm mates, the thumping bass in the background of the happy lyrics vibrated the pencils and pens in the ceramic cup beside it. The little tink-tink-tinks of the writing utensils hitting the side of the cup added pleasant harmony to the song. Izuku hummed along as he scrawled notes into his hero notebook, recalling everything he could from the joint training they’d conducted with Class 1-B that day. Just as he was musing that it may be time for yet another volume of his detailed notes, the song ended abruptly to be replaced by a particularly loud yell from the radio host. Izuku jumped and looked at the radio, turning it up in curiosity. 
“Thank you for tuning in this evening, folks! Today we have a very special offer for a lucky listener! Prepare to dial your phones, ‘cuz the tenth caller will win tickets to AKB48’s upcoming concert in Akihabara!” the host announced excitedly. Izuku wasn’t big into girl groups, but he’d often heard his female classmates discussing the idols. They must be really famous! He thought, pulling up his phone and typing up the radio station’s number as the host provided it. “All right, folks! Get ready to hit ‘dial,’ because time… starts… now!” 
Izuku waited just a brief second before hitting the dial button and holding the phone up to his ear. He honestly didn’t expect much— there were probably hundreds of people calling in with the hopes of securing the tickets— but he did get a little excited when he wasn’t immediately greeted with a busy signal or a “sorry” message. The phone rang for a second, and then, much to Izuku’s surprise, someone picked up. 
“Congratulations, Lucky Number 10! You’ve won yourself two tickets to AKB48’s concert next weekend!” 
“R-really?” Izuku stammered in shock, completely floored that a whim of a call had actually won him something. “Oh, wow! Thank you!” 
“Thank you for calling in today! What’s your name, Lucky Number 10?” 
“I-Izuku!” 
“Well, Izuku, we hope you enjoy seeing the dolls of Akihabara in action! Stay on the line so we can provide you with information on how to claim your tickets.” Izuku did as bid while the radio host switched to a private line, playing a song for those who had been unsuccessful in their efforts in claiming the tickets. They gathered his basic information and provided him with the address to the local radio station, stressing that he needed to bring a valid photo identification to verify that it was indeed him and not someone trying to make off with his winnings. They made an appointment to pick up the tickets the following afternoon, since it was too late in the evening for a student to be out and about. After hanging up the phone, Izuku found himself excited to attend the concert despite not really being passionate about the band— new experiences were always thrilling, after all! 
Now… The real question is, who should I take with me? 
By the time he had retrieved his tickets and returned to the dorm the next day, Izuku didn’t have the answer to that question. He perched on the couch eyeing the two cardstock tickets with a frown, debating who to invite. He didn’t imagine that any of the boys were that into girl groups, so he couldn’t take any of them. On the other hand, all the girls probably liked them in some capacity or another. I want to take the person who would enjoy it the most!, he thought with a sigh, flopping back against the couch as the riddle poisoned him from the inside out. 
Just then, he heard Ochako and Kyoka’s voice drifting out of the kitchen. The two girls came shuffling out in their pajamas and fuzzy socks, probably getting ready for their weekly girls’ night as evidenced by the massive bowl of popcorn tucked in Kyoka’s arms. Ochako stared wistfully at her phone, petulant about something. 
“Man… I really wish I could go to the performance next weekend, but the tickets are so expensive!” she moped. Izuku perked up, peering over the edge of the couch. 
“Ochako, I told you that I would take you if you really want to go,” Kyoka smiled wanly. 
“No way!” Ochako refused, shaking her head vigorously. “I could never ask you to spend money like that on me!” She stopped walking to look at Kyoka, then deflated like a balloon and looked back to her phone once more. “All I can do is hope that they’re still performing by the time I’m making money as a professional hero…” 
“Hey, Ochako!” Izuku hurriedly piped up as the two girls turned to head upstairs. She whirled around to look at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. Izuku flushed as he sat up on his knees to look over the back of the couch, suddenly aware that it would sound like he was eavesdropping. “I-I couldn’t help but overhear… I, um, I won two tickets to the AKB48 concert next weekend in a radio contest. You’re more than welcome to use the extra ticket and come with me.” 
“Oh my gosh, Deku, are you serious?” Ochako screamed and zoomed over to him faster than he’d ever seen anyone move, even Tenya. She grabbed his hands, clasping hers around his with the tickets still clutched in his fist. Her nut-brown eyes sparkled with delight as they bored into his emerald ones, which only made him flush darker. “You really mean it? Oh, thank you, thank you! I’m so excited; they’re my absolute favorite girl group! Oh, I’m so excited!” 
Her animated reaction made a smile stretch across his lips and a warm, bubbly feeling rise up in his chest. When she let his hands go to take the ticket, she gazed down at it like it was the most special gift in the world; tears of joy even bloomed in the corners of her eyes. “Thank you so much, Deku,” she repeated again, softly and choked with emotion. 
“Of course, Ochako! We’re gonna have a lot of fun!” He grinned widely. Ochako looked up at him shyly, batting her eyelashes to blink the tears away, before whirling on her heel to scurry back to Kyoka. Izuku leaned his cheek in his hand, smiling dreamily, as the girl jumped up and down giddily while showing Kyoka the ticket like it was nothing short of pure treasure. Cute, he thought, his smile growing more enchanted as Ochako’s own illuminated the room with the brilliance of a star. Seeing her so happy sent a light, fluttering feeling through his chest, and he couldn’t wait until next weekend so he could see that bright smile again. 
The next week passed like a blur, chock-full of hero training interspaced with general lessons and heaps of homework. Izuku busted his behind to finish the week’s assignments by the eve of the concert, determined to have no obligations so he could enjoy the outing as much as possible. After penning his last page of a small history report, Izuku slunk downstairs to indulge in some much-needed human interaction. He sank down on the common room couch with a heavy sigh, right beside Denki and Hanta, who were spending the evening playing videogames. 
“Well, well, well, look who decided to crawl out of their hole and join the world of the living!” Denki joked, nudging him with an elbow before returning his attention to the racing game he was playing. He cursed under his breath as Hanta’s car slammed into his side and sent him crashing through benches and trees on the sidewalk. “Hey, man! Not cool!” 
“Ya snooze, ya lose, Denki!” Hanta cackled, leaning back on the couch and clapping the soles of his feet together excitedly. “Anyway, Izuku, you and Ochako are goin’ to that concert tomorrow, yeah?” he asked, sticking out his tongue and leaning his body as if it would make the virtual car turn harder. 
“That’s right! She seems really excited!” Izuku nodded eagerly. He thought of that illuminating smile, of the joy simply radiating off her being, and couldn’t help but grin giddily. Denki caught his dreamy expression out of his peripheral vision and raised an eyebrow, then teasingly stuck out the tip of his tongue between his teeth. 
“So, does she know that it’s a date?” 
“What?” Izuku sputtered, throwing up his arms and curling his legs up on the couch in shock. His face had turned a bright shade of crimson in a mere instant, his freckles buried beneath the fiery warmth of his blush. “I-it’s not a date! I just had an extra ticket, that’s all, and it would have been such a shame for it to go to waste, so I was looking for someone to give it to, and I overheard Ochako talking about how much she liked the band, so n-n-naturally I would ask her if she wanted to go, because after all, I had the ticket and that’s the nice thing to do—” he babbled, his face reddening with each breathless phrase. Denki and Hanta just stared at him with matching expressions of pure skepticism, which only made his face more reminiscent of a tomato. Steam was practically buffeting out of his ears by the time he lost all semblance of words and just started gasping like a fish out of water. 
“Anyway, does she know it’s a date?” Denki repeated, deadpan. Izuku slapped his hands to his face, utterly mortified. He hadn’t intended to ask Ochako on a date; he was just trying to be nice! What if she did think it was a date? He had less than twenty-four hours until they were set to go to the concert, but if she thought it was a date, then he had to make sure it was the best date ever! After all, it would be her first date, wouldn’t it? Oh, he would hate for her to have a terrible experience— and with him, no less! What should he do? What should he do? 
“Now, Izuku,” Denki sighed magnanimously, chucking his controller onto the coffee table since his friend was clearly distressed. Hanta pouted, disappointed he could no longer clown Denki with the racing game, but paused the game so he could walk around the couch to plop down on Izuku’s other side and sling his lanky arm around his shoulders. Izuku’s emerald eyes, shining against his crimson skin, nervously peered through the gaps in his fingers. “Don’t worry! There’s still plenty of time to fix this sad, sad, sad situation you’ve gotten yourself into.” 
“There is?” 
“Indeed there is!” Hanta chimed in agreement, nodding his head and holding up his index finger confidently. “Rest assured, Izuku, the two of us are gonna transform you into the studliest of studs so that tomorrow you’ll sweep Ochako off her feet, guaranteed!” Izuku tentatively lowered his hands from his face, blinking uncertainly. Despite his misforgivings, Denki and Hanta were popular with the girls of the Hero Course; surely they at least knew something about taking a girl out on a date, right? Whether or not that was true, the two boys hoisted Izuku up to cart him upstairs, ready to give him a crash-course on wooing their adorable, bubbly classmate and taking her on the best first date ever… 
The following afternoon, after a night of feverish courting lessons and last-minute reservations, Izuku was standing in Denki’s bedroom, nervously regarding himself in the mirror hanging on the back of the blond’s closet door. He was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting, slightly torn jeans and a graphic tee— a much different look than his usual cargo shoots and simple tees. Denki fluttered around him, biting down on his lip as he suppressed excited squeals of delight. 
“Uh, Denki, are you sure about this?” Izuku asked, plucking at the white fibers of the shredded denim over his knees. “Shouldn’t I, like, dress for comfort?” 
“No!” Denki scolded and flicked him in the forehead, making Izuku whimper and press his hand over the pink mark on his forehead. “You dress to impress on a date, dude. Rule #1! Ochako’s probably gonna be dressed to the nines for this concert; you don’t wanna embarrass her! Sheesh.” 
Before Izuku could respond, Hanta descended upon him, spritzing him with cologne. Izuku hacked and coughed as the clouds of strong-smelling aroma wafted up into his face, stinging his eyes and throat. Hanta patted his shoulders and gave them an encouraging squeeze, grinning at him through his reflection. 
“You’re gonna do great, Izuku! Remember your training,” he encouraged with another squeeze. Izuku momentarily panicked, his mind flushing the last eighteen hours of grilling the two boys had subjected him to in the art of wooing women. Denki rolled his eyes and thwapped him upside the head with an encouraging smirk. 
“Relax, dude. You’re gonna do fine! Just remember to show Ochako a good time. That’s Rule #1!” 
“I thought ‘dress to impress’ was Rule #1?” Izuku blinked in confusion. 
“Every rule is Rule #1,” Denki tutted, but before Izuku could ask what good that did, Hanta steered him out of the room telling him that it was time for the show to start. They propelled him all the way to Ochako’s room, abandoning him there with no more than excited thumbs-ups and matching grins. Izuku watched them scurry back to the stairs, gulped loudly, and then nervously smoothed down his messy pine-green hair. He was already beginning to sweat; it beaded on the pads of his fingers as he smoothed them through his hair. 
Okay, Izuku! You can do this!, he encouraged himself with a roll of his shoulders and a determined sigh. He’d already informed Ochako that he intended to take her out for lunch today, and she should be ready for their outing by now. He took one more moment to steel his nerves before knocking on her bedroom door before he could change his mind. 
“Comi— oh dear!” 
Izuku winced as the cheerful call was interrupted by a loud thump and a startled squeal. He could hear shuffling and muffled whimpers and stomping around the room; just as he was about to inquire if Ochako was all right, the door swung open to reveal a breathless and red-faced Ochako. 
“Hey, Deku!” she grinned brightly as she swept a stray strand of her chestnut hair from her face, covering her anxiety with a nervous laugh. He could see her leaning awkwardly on one leg and the beginnings of a bruise forming on her other knee. “I’m ready to go!” she trilled, leaning in the doorframe and using her smile to try and hide the pained wobbling of her lips. He began to ask if she was really okay, but the words died in his throat when he finally took a moment to really look at her. 
She was wearing a pink sundress with a white ribbon around the waist, tied in a big bow in the back with lace accents. Shiny white sandals framed her feet, her pink painted toenails shining in the fluorescent lights of the hallway. A big pink-and-white bow was tucked into her hair, which framed her round face. A blush rose to Izuku’s cheeks as he stared at her, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Ochako blinked perplexedly, eyes growing owlish. “Deku? What is it?” 
“Y-y-you look really cute today,” he finally managed. Ochako blinked again, and then her face flooded the color of her dress. She fisted the skirt shyly, swaying back and forth and trying not to let her happiness show on her face. 
“Thanks, Deku… You look nice, too…” She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger as Izuku continued to admire her beauty, her bashful little smile. After a minute of him just dreamily gawking, Ochako fluttered her eyes and politely pushed, “Um… Deku, shouldn’t we get going? We have a reservation at that sandwich place, don’t we?” 
“O-oh gosh! Sorry, sorry! Yes, let’s go!” In his flurry, he instinctively grabbed Ochako’s hand to begin pulling her down the hall. He heard her squeak in surprise and could feel the nervous sweat flood her palm, but for some reason, he didn’t feel the urge to let go. Her hand felt so soft and nice against his, which was scarred and calloused from the harsh use of his Quirk. She was careful not to touch his skin with her padded fingertips; they wouldn’t get very far with him floating off into space, after all! He did look at her briefly, however, silently inquiring if she was okay. She only grinned bashfully and gave his hand a little approvatory squeeze— and his heart rate shot into the atmosphere as that warm joy bubbled up inside of him. 
It was about a three-hour bullet train ride to Tokyo, where they would catch lunch before heading to Akihabara to attend the early evening concert before catching the train back. It certainly was a full day, but Izuku found himself excited as he joined the train with Ochako. Their curriculum was so demanding that it was rare they had a chance for an outing like this, and Izuku was happy it was with one of his best friends. Except… Best friends don’t go out on dates, he thought with a blush, looking down at where Ochako’s hand rested on the arm of the train seat. He’d let her hand go when they left the dorm, but his fingers had insistently itched to claim her soft hand once again. It felt like it had fit so perfectly in his own, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. 
He looked away from her hand before she noticed, busying himself with the scenic landscape of Japan idling by through the window. He wasn’t sure how long he spent watching the buildings and roads and trees and hills roll by, but eventually he heard a soft thunk that pulled his attention away from the glass pane. He turned to see that Ochako had slumped over the edge of the seat to loll into the aisle, her mouth parted as she gently snored. The thunk had been her bracelet striking the plastic edge of the seat as her arm slipped off. She was bent awkwardly with the other arm of the seat digging into her side. It certainly didn’t look comfortable, evidenced by the way her face twitched in discomfort and she mumbled something unintelligible but laced with pain. 
I can’t let her stay like that, Izuku thought. Gently so as not to wake her, he leaned in to loop his arms around her and pull her back into the seat. She immediately began to slip to the side again, head bobbing, and he reflexively caught the side of her head with his hand. He flushed at the realization of just how big his hand was in comparison to hers, so easily cradling her skull. Tenderly, he guided her head to rest on his shoulder. Ochako’s face slowly became peaceful as she sought out his warmth, smacking her lips as she nuzzled into his neck. Heat flooded his body when the tip of her nose brushed his neck, but he fought the urge to spaz out because Ochako just looked downright adorable snoozing against him. 
Smiling sweetly, Izuku swept away a chunk of hair that had fallen into her face and tucked it behind her ear. Ochako hummed contentedly, her plump lips curling into a tiny smile. 
“Deku,” she mumbled sleepily. He tensed, afraid he’d actually woken her up; however, Ochako didn’t move, just continued to doze peacefully. He relaxed and then immediately tensed again when the realization struck him— Ochako had just said his name in her sleep. What does that mean? Does that mean something? Oh my gosh! Surely that means something, right? He used his free hand to nervously fidget, twiddling his fingers and jumping his leg up and down. His mind whirled for the remainder of the train ride, struggling to comprehend the implications of such a simple utterance. He was in such a whirlwind of confusion that he almost missed their stop as it chimed over the intercom. 
Izuku started with a gasp, then looked down at Ochako, who was still dozing peacefully. He gently shook her shoulder, looking up nervously as people began filing off the train. 
“Ochako… It’s our stop!” he whispered loudly. Ochako stirred, her eyelashes fluttering to reveal hazy, sleep-addled eyes. She looked up at him drowsily with a sleepy smile on her lips. Izuku couldn’t help but return it with a sweet one of his own, charmed by how cute she looked as she rose into consciousness. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” he joked. “Sorry to wake you, but we’re in Tokyo.” 
“Really?” she asked, looking around with her eyes still lidded with sleep. It took her a second to realize her head was propped on his shoulder, her short brown hair spilling over it like a curtain. When she did, however, she stiffened, and then bolted up with a squeak. Izuku only just managed to pull back in time before her head collided with his chin. Ochako covered her hands with her face, peering at him with appalled brown eyes. “I-I-I’m so sorry! How long have I been sleeping on you? That must have been so uncomfortable!” 
“N-n-no, not at all!” Izuku stammered back, waving his hands in denial. “It felt kinda nice, actually.” A split second of silence passed between them as they processed what he’d just uttered. Both of them then gasped and looked away from each other, both covering their bright red faces. The announcer pleasantly initiated the last call, making Izuku stand up stiffly. “W-w-w-we need to go! We don’t wanna miss our reservation!” 
“You’re right! Let’s go!” Ochako agreed, standing up and scurrying down the aisle while still covering her face. Izuku hurried after her, and they managed to hop off the bullet train just as the doors were closing. They stood awkwardly on the platform, heat radiating off them like a couple of steamed pork buns. They took a moment to recover from the embarrassing situation, with Izuku pulling up a map on his phone to navigate their way to the sandwich shop. He looked at Ochako, still slightly pink-faced, and coughed politely because she was still staring stressfully off into space. 
“Sh-shall we head off? I don’t think that the train station specializes in sandwiches,” he joked lightly and rubbed the back of his neck. Ochako smiled at his wisecrack, her opal-pink cheeks turning a pleasant shade of carnation as her discomfort was replaced with happiness. She nodded in agreement so Izuku turned around, standing on his tip-toes to hunt for the stairs over the sea of heads. The subway was bustling as those departing the train and those preparing for the next arrival blended together in a writhing, cacophonic mess. He and Ochako stared dauntedly at the tightly-crammed mass and the stairs hugging the wall beyond the great sea of people. 
“Um… Ochako… Would you like to hold hands?” Izuku offered shyly, looking at her with a sheepish smile. When her eyes blew wide like twin moons, his face blazed red and he hurriedly threw up his hands defensively. “I-I-I just don’t want us to get separated, that’s all! Th-there’s so many people, a-a-after all, and it would waste more time if one of us got lost!” 
“Oh!” Ochako blinked, the blush in her face fading with a sheepish smile. “Sure, Deku.” She offered him her hand and Izuku took it, careful not to touch all five of the cute little pink pads adorning her fingertips. As easy as floating over the crowd would be, it would probably present more problems than it would solve in the end. 
Clutching her hand tight and mildly self-conscious about the sweat that blossomed on his palm, he turned slightly to the side so he could shoulder his way through the crowd. He toted Ochako along, shouting “Excuse me!” and “Coming through!” over the chatter and mechanical din of the train station. Somehow, they wormed their way through the crowd and arrived at the base of the stairs, albeit a little breathless. He smiled at Ochako and moved to retract his hand, but surprisingly, she clenched down on his fingers. When he stared confusedly at her, she looked bashfully down at her feet. 
“It might be crowded on the street, so… maybe we should play it safe?” She peered out of her lashes at him, pink tinging her cheeks. Izuku’s eyebrows crept up his forehead, too stunned to even have the sense to blush, but the hopefulness in Ochako’s timid gaze chased away any inclinations of refusing. He just smiled sweetly and squeezed her hand, prompting her to look up at him. 
“Of course, Ochako. The last thing I’d want to do today is lose you.” 
She gasped lightly, then used her free hand to hide her face as it flushed bright red. Izuku, realizing how flirtatious the simple declaration could sound, did the same and looked over his shoulder. I didn’t mean for it to sound so lovey-dovey, but Ochako thinks this is a date, so I guess I should be a little flirty, right?, he thought, peering out of the gaps in his fingers at her. Though her hand covered most of her face, he could see the edges of her blissful smile poking out from underneath her fingers. The fact she was so happy at just a small comment made his heart flutter and a bubbly feeling rise up in his body. I want to make her as happy as I can today… he realized, a soft smile spreading over his lips. 
I’ll do my best to make this the best date ever for you, Ochako!
Finally, the two awkward teenagers gathered their wits enough to ascend the stairs to the street above. Like Ochako predicted, Akihabara was rather hectic; people streamed along the sidewalks, huddling close together as cars trundled by on the cobblestone roads. Flickering, bright neon signs towered over them advertising shops, deals, news, and— most importantly— the upcoming concert. Using his trusty map as a guide, Izuku weaved through the foot traffic toward the sandwich shop crammed in the small square space. 
“Wow! Look at all the cosplays, Deku,” Ochako piped up suddenly. He looked up with a confused blink, having been absorbed in following the map, before glancing around. Sure enough, a lot of the patrons moseying around were decked out in cosplay of their favorite anime characters. They flocked to the electronics and manga stores, coming out laden with goods. Others stood outside of maid cafés, chatting amicably with the girls in black-and-white dresses, thigh-high stockings, and cute bonnets trying to entice them in for an afternoon snack. Electronic music and chimes bled out of the door of a pachinko parlor as it opened and closed continuously with gamblers walking in and out, most of them defeatedly. 
“Wow! Akihabara really is as electric as they say,” Izuku praised. The air thrummed with energy; he could feel it vibrating under his skin, humming in his bones and sending a pleasant adrenaline pulsing through his body. He found himself with a prance in his step as he led Ochako on, both of them stopping occasionally to marvel at the eclectic displays that made Akihabara the haven for otakus and electronics enthusiasts. They paused so many times that they almost did miss their reservation, bundling into the shop with only a minute to spare and startling the hostess. 
Like the rest of Akihabara, the sandwich shop possessed an anime theme, specifically a popular magical girl anime that he knew Ochako liked to watch with Tooru. The waitresses strutted around in colorful, lace-laden dresses, playfully waving their ornate wands and punctuating their conversations with cute poses and sayings. Ochako’s eyes brightened immediately when they walked inside, and she looked at Izuku surprisedly as they were escorted to a table. 
“Izuku, did you pick this place because of me?” she asked as she eased into the booth seat, which was white and patterned with little pastel-colored hearts and stars. Izuku tried not to seem too proud of himself as he sat across from her, failing a little as the cheeky grin of satisfaction worked its way onto his face. 
“Yeah! They were really nice about working us in for the concert today,” he explained as he picked up the salt and pepper shakers, which were styled like fluffy alien mascots, to examine them with amusement. He set them down before smiling at Ochako, who looked like she was about to cry with gratitude. “I wanted you to have a good time, so I thought picking a restaurant themed after your favorite anime would make you happy!” 
She shrunk down a little in the booth. Her lips twitched as she tried not to smile too hard, but it broke free, stretching across her face until her eyes crinkled up into little half-moons. She played with the bow around her middle and shifted, her eyes trained shyly on the table. Finally, she murmured a soft, “Thank you, Deku. I really am happy.” 
“I’m glad,” Izuku replied, just as softly. She shifted again, her smile growing wider, though her face strained to fit the absolutely overjoyed beam. It made that fuzzy, bubbly feeling rise up within him again. He picked up the menu to hide his pleased smile. 
Everything’s going so well! 
They spent an hour or so in the shop, chowing down on scrumptious sandwiches and fraternizing with the costumed waitresses. Ochako snagged a photograph with every single one of them, and she broke down crying when the manager gifted her a free cosplay wand of her favorite magical girl because he was so charmed by her enthusiasm. She clutched it to her chest as they walked out of the shop, her eyes glittering like diamonds and her skin practically glowed with happiness. As Izuku pulled up his map again to find the concert venue, Ochako dramatically flourished the wand and bopped him on the head. 
“Am I a magical girl now?” He laughed while putting a hand on his head where she had tapped him with it. 
“Yep!” She giggled, tapping him again on his hand. “You’d make a beautiful magical girl.” 
“Thanks.” He laughed. “I’ll take that into consideration. Maybe I’ll make it my brand in a few years!” 
“Oh my gosh!” Ochako laughed, covering her mouth with an obscene snort. “I can just imagine you prancing around in thigh-high boots and a skirt with little plastic wings…” 
“I thought you said I would be a beautiful magical girl!” He whined. “What, is the image too beautiful for you to handle?” 
“Yes!”
They both began laughing hysterically at the image of Izuku waltzing around in a girly costume with his magic wand touting about the power of friendship and love. It certainly was amusing. They continued to joke about it while they strolled to the concert venue, a building tucked into the towering mish-mash of specialty shops. It proudly displayed “AKB48” in bright letters of purple, red, and blue on the scrolling neon sign, followed by a “SOLD OUT” in white. 
“It’s a good thing you won those tickets, Deku!” Ochako said when they filed into line. Izuku clutched the tickets in his hands; it would be a shame for them to come all this way only to have lost them at the finish line. They inched forward as the concertgoers were filed inside. 
“Yeah! I’m happy you agreed to come with me, Ochako. Truthfully, I don’t know anything about these idols,” he admitted while bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “I just called in for the heck of it. I was so shocked when I found out I actually won!” 
“Really? This is gonna be so much fun, then! I can’t wait to see what you think of them!” 
“Yeah?” he said, finding himself growing excited from her infectious enthusiasm. She began to ramble about the origin of idol groups in Akihabara and the rise of the latest, AKB48. Though Izuku really didn’t understand much of what she was talking about, the way her eyes lit up and a smile painted her round face made him listen along anyway. He watched her dreamily, more watching her mouth move than paying attention to the words coming out of it. She really is pretty, he thought absently, marveling at the sheen of her glossed lips. He wondered what flavor it could be. She seemed like a strawberry or cherry type of person, but maybe she opted for something unique. 
“Tickets, please.” 
Izuku was startled out of his daydreaming by the attendant, who had apparently been asking him for the tickets for several seconds, based on his annoyed expression and demandingly outstretched hand. Izuku hurriedly handed over the tickets while sputtering apologies, but the greeter only dismissively waved them through. Ochako encouragingly patted Izuku’s back as he shuffled on, sulking with embarrassment. 
I just couldn’t help but get so engrossed in her talking, he thought with a light blush dusting his cheeks. His eyes were still engrossed with her, trailing slowly to watch as she scampered up to the merchandise table to ogle the band tee shirts. A dreamy smile automatically appeared on Izuku’s lips; she just looked too cute, her index finger pressed against her pursed lips as she carefully surveyed the selection. He moseyed up behind her, hands clasped behind his back and his eyebrows raised meaningfully. 
“There’s a little time before the concert starts… Would you like a shirt, Ochako?” 
“What?” she cried, jumping at his sudden appearance. “O-o-oh, no, I was just looking! You already paid for lunch, Deku. I couldn’t possibly ask for more!” she refused, waving her hands. She was still holding the wand from the sandwich shop, so she accidentally bopped herself in the head with it during her nervous flailing. Her face turned bright red, but she continued to insistently refuse his offer. “Seriously, Deku, don’t worry about it. I don’t want one that bad.” Yet, her eyes slid longingly back to the table. 
“Yeah, you do.” He laughed and pulled out his wallet. He danced away when Ochako tried to swipe at him, dodging her grabs while pulling out a few bills. It took a few seconds for him to get back to the merchandise seller, who was watching them amusedly, but once Izuku dropped the bills into his hand, it was over. Ochako slumped defeatedly and sheepishly slid the shirt she wanted off the table, while Izuku grabbed another that had caught his eye. Izuku slipped his own over the tee-shirt that Denki had loaned him, and Ochako followed suit by sliding hers over her dress. The fronds of her bow stuck out awkwardly underneath, making Izuku chuckle and bat at them. 
“What? Do I look funny?” she pouted, grabbing the hem of the shirt subconsciously. 
“No,” he chuckled while rubbing the soft, wilky fabric of the bow’s tail between his thumbs. “I think it’s cute how big of a fan you are that you’ll wear it over your dress.” Ochako flushed and ducked her head, the edges of her smile peeking out of her swathes of brown hair. He reached out to tuck it behind her ear, and as his fingertips brushed ever-so-softly against her cheek, she froze. Normally he would grow flustered and flail about, but… there was something about the electric energy of this place that made him bold, that made him act on the warm, fluttery feeling that had been filling him up all afternoon. 
Slowly, that bubbly warmth had become sharper, stronger, turning into volts of electricity that shot through his bones every time Ochako gifted him that beautiful smile and cute pink face. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to make her happy simply for her sake anymore, but rather a selfish desire to fuel the electricity pulsing within him, those sparks of affection slowly coalescing into an electric storm. 
“W-we should go find our seats,” Ochako gulped after a few seconds of staring at him in stunned silence, as his hands were still resting in her hair. He hummed in agreement and pulled back, sliding his hands in his pockets as he led the way. They walked into the concert hall proper to find rows upon rows of seats surrounding a spacious stage. Large black speakers lined its circumference and purple-blue lights basked the area in a dusky glow. Thanks to winning the special promotion, Izuku and Ochako’s seats were near the front— not too far up to be deafening, but close enough to still provide a great view and ambience. They pushed past the other concertgoers to take their place among the throng. They were just in time, as the lights soon dimmed and a hush descended upon the crowd. 
The silence was instantly replaced by deafening cheers as a group of young women in school uniforms skipped out on stage, smiling and waving enthusiastically. Izuku and Ochako barely had time to jam in the soft foam earplugs provided to them before the crowd erupted into their roars; even still, Izuku’s eardrums rang with the cacophony. After greeting the crowd, the girls set up in formation, prompting Ochako to touch Izuku’s arm excitedly. 
“Ah, they’re starting!” she squealed over the cheers. “I’m so excited!” She jumped up and down, standing on her tip-toes to watch the idols with sparkling eyes, and that’s when Izuku stopped paying attention to anything but her. 
Really, if he’d paid for the tickets, they’d have been a waste. Izuku spent the entire concert gazing at the girl beside him. The strobe lights played over her form in hues of pink and purple and blue, the light playing over her round cheeks pink with exhilaration and glinting off her bright smile and shining eyes. Sweat sheened on her skin as she danced excitedly in place and belted out the lyrics to the songs as loud as she could. Every time she looked at Izuku with an expression of sheer elation, he felt his breath leave his lungs. How a girl could be so utterly breathtaking doing something so simple as having fun, he wasn’t sure, but Ochako was. 
The electricity coursed through him, simmering under his skin and filling him to the brim with his own sense of joy. I think I love her, he realized with an adoring smile, just watching her sway her hips and toss her arms as she danced to the beat. No, I know I love her. Maybe he always had. How could he not? She had been there for him from the beginning of his journey, supporting him and encouraging him. She was the perfect balance of soft and strong, a kind heart ready to harden like steel whenever she needed to. And, God, she was beautiful, so beautiful his heart ached looking at her. She was a masterpiece underneath these flashing lights, the shining sun, the glowing moon— a soft and natural beauty that was as pure as the rest of her. 
Izuku found himself reaching out to her without realizing it. He gently touched her cheek, a feather-light trace of her skin. She dropped her arms slightly to look at him in confusion, and that’s when he closed the distance to press a kiss to her mouth. He felt her tense and then melt into him with a soft hum. Her body molded against his like it belonged there, her arms winding around his neck like they’d found their way home. The poppy tunes of the idol band faded into the background as they kissed slowly, sweetly, passionately, in the thralls of a love so electric it could power cities for all time. 
Eventually, they pulled apart, a little breathless and pink-faced. Strawberry, he thought absently when he licked his lips. Ochako stared coyly up at him and batted her eyelashes. 
“I didn’t know this was supposed to be a date,” she admitted quietly, so much so that Izuku almost didn’t hear her over the blasting music of the ending set. He did, though, and his eyes went wide in shock. 
“You… you didn’t? But Denki and Hanta said…” He trailed off with a groan, realizing just how big a mistake it was to listen to those two clowns. Ochako laughed when he face-palmed. She reached up to pull his hand away, still chuckling. The show had just ended with the crowd erupting in applause around them, but the two of them made no move to leave. 
“It’s okay,” she smiled sweetly. “I had an amazing time, Deku, really. This is more than I ever could have asked for.” 
“I’m glad, but…” He chewed nervously on the inside of his check. “Are you okay with it being a date? I mean, I thought… Which is why I kissed you, but if you didn’t want it, that was totally not okay of me—!” Before he could descend into sputtering rambles, Ochako silenced him by putting a finger over his lips. He crossed his eyes to blink at the digit, while she chuckled warmly. 
“Izuku, do you think I would have kissed you back if I wasn’t okay with it?” she teased. He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. 
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true… So… does this mean we’re dating now?” 
“I suppose it does,” Ochako nodded bashfully, turning from side-to-side. Something about that made Izuku exceptionally giddy, so much so that he swooped in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. She squealed in surprise and delight, returning his affections with a nose nuzzle. Filled to the brim with more happiness than he thought humanly possibly, Izuku just took a moment to admire his pretty new girlfriend, and her deep brown eyes that were staring at him, so in love. 
They were practically glued to one another’s side as they exited the concert hall. Dusk had descended, with the last rays of the sunlight spearing into the lavender-blue sky. Though Akihabara probably had much more fun to be had, they unfortunately had to return to the dorm before curfew. They headed straight for the station and boarded the bullet train. This time, Ochako nestled purposefully into his shoulder, watching with lidded eyes as he scrolled through his news feed on his phone. Izuku looped his arm around her waist to hold her close to him, enjoying her warmth blooming against his side with the nighttime cityscape basking them in streetlight.
It wasn’t long until she dozed off. Her shoulders rose and fell with gentle breaths. Izuku petted her soft hair with a smile, still on his phone as he idly wove the silky strands around his fingers. His phone chimed suddenly with a text message from Denki, asking how the date went. Smirking, Izuku raised his phone to snap a picture of them— Ochako dozing against him, held securely in Izuku’s grip. 
If Izuku had to say, it went very well indeed.
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
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prettyyoungandbored · 3 years
Text
Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Seven
Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC
Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)
Warning: This chapter contains description of a heavy panic attack. Please read at your own risk.
Taglist: dragonballluver, disgraceful-marvel-trash, barikawho (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)
Author’s Note: A chunk of dialogue in this chapter comes from the movie and has been expanded on to fit the storyline. 
Previous
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“And when exactly is your mother planning to visit us?” Monsignor O’Malley inquired as he followed Demetria. 
Demetria snapped a photo of the hallway before looking over her shoulder. “Most likely next month. Once I send her the photos , she’ll work on drafts and whenever she comes, we can all sit down and discuss how to go about the process.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what, I have her business card with me because she sometimes does work in Gotham City.” 
She pulled out her wallet from her purse and handed Monsignor O’Malley the thing off white card. “She’ll be happy to answer any of your questions and or concerns.” 
He smiled as he took the card. “This is awfully generous of you, Ms. Gallagher. We can’t tell you how grateful we are.” 
“It’s the least I can do,” she waved her hand. “Both Bruce and I want to make sure you, the sisters, and the boys are taken care of with whatever you need.” She paused. “How are the boys doing?” 
“They’re wonderful.” 
“Oh good! I was actually wondering if I could go say ‘hi’ or-.” 
“Unfortunately the boys are on a field trip with the sisters.”
Demetria nodded understandingly, trying to hide her disappointment. “Absolutely.” Then an idea hit her. “Do the nuns teach the boys?” 
“Some do. We’ve been thinking about incorporating more schooling into the boys schedules, but we’re a little short staffed and not all the nuns feel comfortable teaching certain subjects.” 
“I’d love to step in,” Demetria offered. 
Monsignor O’Malley raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it you would teach?” 
“I’m excellent at English. All levels. I was a TA my senior year of high school. I even minored in it in college.” 
Monsignor O’Malley nodded his head, impressed. “Well, if it doesn’t interfere with your schedule-.” 
“I don’t have one,” she laughed. 
He chuckled. “Then I suppose it’s something we can try out. Are you free next week?”
Her eyes lit up. “Absolutely!’ I would love that!”
Before she could say more, the sound of her phone ringing cut her off. She gave Monsignor O’Malley an apologetic smile as she dug into her bag. “Excuse me one second.” 
She glanced down to see it was a reminder that she had to start getting ready for the fundraiser. 
“Please excuse me, but I’ve got to head out,” Demetria said. “Remember, if you have any questions, you have my number as well as my mom’s.” 
“Of course. I also look forward to discussing you working here.” 
“I do as well.” 
The two shook hands and Demetria headed out of the orphanage.
She had taken Bruce’s Cadillac XLR, seeing as it was the only semi-low-key-looking car he owned and the only one she didn’t get anxious driving. She wished he had owned something a little less glamorous for trips like this, hating how it made her look, but it was what it was.
As she she opened the driver’s side door, she noticed a photographer snapping her from the distance. The two stared at each for a moment, acknowledging just what was going on. She exhaled softly, mentally reminding herself to keep it together.
Since her essay was published, the media outlets had backed off a bit. The Gotham Times were still insistent of doing a piece on her and published one on her, but it turned out to be a dud as no one close to her would speak to them with the exception of her former News Director and the Head Booker, her other boss. It also helped that a local mob boss was mysteriously killed and the news decided to fixate on that. 
She gave him a quick, tired smile before she slid inside and closed the door, driving off.
===================================================
Back at the Wayne Penthouse, Bruce adjusted the cuffs of his pristine white dress shirt as he made his way down the stairs. 
Alfred wrapped up his conversation with the party planners and turned his attention to Bruce. 
“I think your fundraiser will be a great success,” Alfred remarked. 
“Why do you think I want to hold a party for Harvey Dent?” Bruce questioned, almost annoyed at the thought of it. 
“I assumed it was your usual reason for socializing beyond myself and the scum of Gotham’s underbelly to try to impress Miss Gallagher.” 
“Very droll, very wrong,” Bruce responded, glancing up for a brief moment. 
Alfred looked over his shoulder for a moment, noticing the party planners were not in the room. “Have you considered telling Miss Gallagher what it is you’re doing at night?” Alfred inquired in a voice low enough for Bruce to hear him. 
Bruce glanced up. It wasn’t the first time this conversation came up between the two. “Soon.” 
“Before or after you say ‘I do’?” 
“When the time is right.” 
“Perhaps she should truly know what she’s getting herself into.” 
Bruce stopped in his tracks. “What are you implying, Alfred?” 
“Miss Gallagher has given you every ounce of herself.” 
“Who says I-.” 
Bruce’s attention was caught by the low sound of the television. He looked over to find GCN airing what appeared to be a figure of Batman, hanging with a rope around it’s neck on a building.  The lower third read “BATMAN DEAD?”
Demetria walked down the stairs and into the living room, tightening the belt on her cozy white bathrobe when she saw Bruce and Alfred staring at the tv. Curious, her eyes darted to the tv when she saw the lower third. 
Her blood ran cold with disbelief and shock, heart dropping into her stomach. 
The camera cut back to GCN anchor, Mike Engel. 
“Be aware, the image is disturbing,” he warned. 
The camera then cut to a man dressed in a cheap Batman getup, his plump cheeks spilling out of the cowl. He was sat on the floor of what looked like the back kitchen area of a butcher shop with a silver cart and a large pieces of animal meat hanging behind the victim. He had his hands tied behind them, his face lowered to the game. 
“Tell them your name,” the camera man said in a menacing, sing-song voice. 
“Brian Douglas,” the fake Batman answered weakly.
“Are you the real Batman?” There was a childish, teasing tone in the voice behind the camera to a point where it was menacing. It was almost as if whoever it was took immense pleasure in this man’s torture. 
“No.” Brian was barely hanging on. 
“No?” the voice repeated back, almost in a whine to mimic Brian’s pain. 
“No.”
“No?” The voice giggled. An arm reached over and pulled the cowl off Brian. “Then why do you dress up like him?” The camera pulled back, the arm dangling the cowl in front of Brian. The voice laughed a stomach curdling “Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!”
“Because he’s a symbol...that we don't have to be afraid of scum like you,” Brian retorted with a slight bit of courage in his weak tone. 
“Yeah. You do, Brian.” The hand grabbed the side of Brian’s face, the camera coming in close. “You really do.”
The hand pulled the top of Brian’s head as the man whimpered. The hand turned back and stroked Brian’s cheek. “Oh, shh shh shh.” 
Demetria shook her head, her stomach growing weak. Bruce’s eyes fixated on the TV, his expression stone cold with eyes colored in disbelief. 
“So,” the voice continued on, “you think the Batman's helped Gotham? Hmm?”
Brian didn’t respond. 
“LOOK AT ME!” 
The roaring voice caused Demetria to jump back, her hand slapping on her mouth. 
The camera swung around to reveal the person behind the voice, the sight causing Demetria to yelp, “Jesus Christ!” 
The red smeared smile was complimented by his chalk-white foundation and accentuated the long scars on the sides of his face. Two lazily painted black eyeshadow covered his eyes and he revealed his dark yellow teeth. 
“You see, this is how crazy Batman's made Gotham. You want order in Gotham, Batman must take off his mask, and turn himself in.”
It was something behind the clown that Demetria recognized. A memory popped up in her mind, her jaw dropping at the realization. 
“Oh, and everyday he doesn’t, people will die. Starting tonight. I’m a man of my word.”
As the camera switched around, the man let out a menacing cackle as Brian screamed in the background. Demetria, overcome with her realization and the man’s grim promise, hurried up the stairs, Bruce and Alfred watching her. Bruce turned off the television and glanced at Alfred who shot him a look. He gave the old man a nod, indicating the message was received.
In their bedroom, Demetria grabbed a notebook from her nightstand as well as a pen. She began writing hurriedly, her cursive handwriting slightly smudged from the pen. Upon finishing, she ripped the page from her notebook and folded it. She reached back into the drawer, grabbing an empty envelope and shoving the folded paper in there. She licked the envelope, sealing tightly with her fingers and placed it back into the drawer. 
Just as she went to close the drawer, she heard the door unlock and grabbed her anti-anxiety meds.
Bruce entered the room.
“Everything ok?” he asked, gentle concern laced in his tone.
She waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just that video was, uh, pretty overwhelming to watch. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” 
He eyed the pilll bottle in her hand. “You know you should probably put that in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”
She chuckled. “You’re right. I’m just used to putting them in nightstand drawer. But considering we’re having a bunch of random people over, I guess you’re right.” She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. “Should I leave some viagra in a little bowl for our older guests trying to impress their much younger dates?”
He sat beside her on the bed, smirking at her. “I don’t have any because I don’t need it.”
She hummed, patting his leg. “I wouldn’t say that.”
He pulled her close, his breath hitting her lips. “Not funny.” 
“Oh, but it is. It really is.”
She gave him a chaste kiss, nuzzling her nose against his. “You think maybe we should cancel this party? I mean, I don’t think it’s safe.” 
“We’re going to be fine,” Bruce reassured. 
She sighed, realizing there was no point in changing his mind. “Then I guess I better continue getting ready.” 
He chuckled. “Well, don’t get too excited, sweetheart.” 
“It’s just...” she stepped back, “I don’t know.” Her fingers toyed the robed belt. “I figured you’d cancel the party and we could spend the night in here...” She continued to move back toward the bathroom area, throwing off the robe to reveal her naked body to him. “And I’d let you do whatever you want to me. But since you won’t cancel it...” She shrugged. “Oh well.” 
Bruce could feel his pants grow a little tight and he was ready to have her pay the price. His hungry eyes stayed on her, like a lion ready to pounce on it’s prey. “You get back here. Right. Now.” 
She shook her head. “I have to get ready.” She pointed to the tent in his pants. “I suggest you take care of that situation before you leave this room.” 
She grabbed the robe from the floor and closed the door behind her, locking it so Bruce wouldn’t try anything. 
She exhaled and ran a hand through her damp hair. She wasn’t sure how long this party would last, but she had to make sure Batman got her letter. 
==================================================
Bruce waited outside near the helicopter landing pad, his hands in his pockets. He watched as the navy blue sky took over the sunset, but once he turned his head, his breath was taken away by an even more beautiful sight. 
Demetria walked out on to the helicopter landing pad, her black hair in an updo with long, curled strands of hair framing her face. Her navy blue gown was strapless with a subtle reverse sweetheart neckline, and hugged her small curves just right before flowing out on to the floor.  Her makeup stayed on the subtle side with her eyeliner and mascara accentuating her warm, emerald green eyes and her Goldilocks lips were the perfect shade of pink. 
“Is it too much?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. She put a hand on her stomach, feeling the knot inside tightening. Her face fell into a panic. “Oh shit, it is, isn’t it?” 
He shook his head, his thumb grazing her cheek as he smiled at her adoringly. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”
Color filled her cheeks as her pink lips curved into a bashful smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Wayne.” 
His lips gently crashed on to hers as he cradled the side of her face. For a moment, as they relished in their kiss, the world was still and time froze. Neither of them could remember the last time they shared such a moment, but they truly savored it while they still could. 
Bruce pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, his lips hovering over hers. “For the record, you still owe me from before.” 
She hummed against his lips. “I’ll take it into consideration.” 
He smirked at her. “You’re lucky I like you. C’mon, let’s go.”
He took her hand in his, leading her onto the helicopter. The pilot helped her up first, Bruce following right after. As the two sat in the back, Demetria turned to him.  “What’s the point of doing this again?”  
He took her hand once again. “Grand entrances are fun. Plus, wait til’ you see the view from above.” 
He felt her latch on to his arm as the sound of the choppers roared in. Soon enough, the helicopter began rising, the weight of the ground lifting. As it took off into Gotham City, Demetria watched the twinkling city below her.
As childish as it seemed, Demetria felt like Jasmine did on that magic carpet with Aladdin. Seeing Gotham from a bird’s eye view, the city looked beautiful and peaceful. 
Bruce relished in watching his fiancé’s amazement, hoping he could make her feel this way for the rest of their lives. 
She looked over at him. “You were right. This is incredible.” 
She scooted closer to him, leaning back on his shoulder as she continued to look out the window. Bruce pressed a kiss to her temple, reaching his hand over to hers on her lap, clasping them. 
Both stayed in the moment, wishing they could stay like this forever. 
But once the helicopter scoured every inch part of Gotham, it was time to descend back onto the landing pad. 
Bruce helped Demetria off the helicopter. Her eyes shifted to the once empty ballroom which was now filled with a large crowd inside staring at her. Her chest grew heavy, palms sweating.
“They’re staring at us,” she told Bruce. 
He took her hand. “They see how you beautiful you look”. He gave it squeeze. “Remember, I’ve got you.” 
She nodded and exhaled softly as the two made their way inside. 
She followed him as the door opened to the gala room. All eyes stayed on them. She flashed a closed mouth smile at partygoers until her eyes met Harvey’s. It wasn’t until his familiar, warm smile that hers became more genuine and honest. 
“Sorry we’re late,” Bruce announced. “Glad you started without us!” He let go of Demetria’s hand, clapping his together. “Where's Rachel?!”
Demetria eye’s turned to Rachel, who cringed slightly. 
Bruce motioned to her. “Rachel Dawes- my oldest friend. When she told me she was dating Harvey Dent, I had one thing to say... ‘the guy from those god-awful campaign commercials? 'I Believe in Harvey Dent?' Nice slogan, Harvey.” 
As the crowd chuckled, Demetria’s smile faltered even more. She was thrown off by the Bruce that was speaking. It was like the second his hand left hers, he’d become another man. He’d become like everyone else in the crowd - pompous and slightly arrogance.
He’s putting on a show for them, she thought to herself. This is not the real him.
“Certainly caught Rachel's attention,” Bruce went on. “But then I started paying attention to Harvey, and all he's been doing as our new D.A., and you know what? I believe in Harvey Dent. On his watch, Gotham can feel a little safer. A little more optimistic. But what he’s done for Gotham isn’t just the only good thing Harvey Dent has done.”
He then shifted his tone and his gaze, now looking at Demetria who’s heart dropped to her stomach. 
“Harvey convinced his good friend from college, Demetria Gallagher, to move to Gotham,” Bruce continued, smiling at her. “It’s because of Harvey and Rachel that I was introduced to the love of my life.” 
The crowd let out a collective “aw” as Demetria gave him a small smile.
“I spent years thinking I’d never find the ‘one’.” He turned back to the crowd. “I figured if I’m never gonna find her, why not have some fun? And I did.”
The crowd laughed. Demetria rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
“Then I ran into Rachel having a lunch with this beautiful woman and I couldn’t help myself. I asked her three times to have dinner with me.” Bruce shifted his attention to Demetria, taking her hand in his. “While I will never know who or what convinced you to say ‘yes’, all I know is that from the moment I left that dinner, I knew this witty, kind, beautiful woman was who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Demetria, to say you are my heart and my soul is simply not enough. There will never be enough words or adjectives or uses of symbolism to describe how much you mean to me and how happy you make me. I love you more than anything.”
The crowd, once again, “awed” as he pecked Demetria’s cheek. He then grabbed two glasses of champagne off the server’s tray, handing one to Demetria. He then  turned back to the crowd, raising his glass. “To-.” 
“I just want to say something really quickly,” Demetria spoke up, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “If that’s, ok?”
Bruce smiled, her sudden burst of confidence bringing him pride. “By all means.”
She turned to the crowd. “You all know Harvey as your DA, but I know him as  my confidant, my greatest friend, and above all, my family. He’s also my get out of jail free card, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Everyone laughed as Harvey shook his head. Demetria turned to her best friend, her smile fading a bit. 
“Harvey, you’re selflessness and dedication to making Gotham City a safer one for its citizens is not just admirable, but also inspirational. You fight for the voiceless, the scared, and for those who want to make their home a better place. You’re one of the reasons Gotham has a brighter future.”
“So get out your checkbooks and let's make sure that he stays right where all of Gotham wants him,” Bruce toasted. “All except Gotham's criminals, of course. To the face of Gotham's bright future- Harvey Dent.” 
Everyone toasted and took a sip of their champagne.
As the crowd went back to their party, Bruce turned to Demetria.
“I’m going to go outside for a bit,” he told her, pecking her cheek. “Make yourself comfortable.” 
She opened her mouth to protest but it was too late - he’d wandered off. She sighed, wondering how he could he just leave her to fend for herself at their first gala together. She took a sip of her champagne, giving up and giving in to the situation at hand.  
“You’re a very lucky woman,” an elderly woman marveled. “And quite adorable. I bet Martha would’ve loved you.”
“Thank you, that’s so kind,” Demetria remarked. “Were you a friend of hers?”
“We were both on the chair for many charities. Such a wonderful woman. If you’re interested, I would love to bring you aboard some of them and get you acquainted.”
“I would love that! I’m actually working with the boy’s home and helping them with renovations and whatnot.”
“How wonderful!”
“I’ve also expressed interest in helping them with schooling and whatnot.” 
The gleam in the woman’s eyes softened. “Oh...really, now?” 
“Yeah, I would love to do some teaching.” 
“She’s going to do a fantastic job,” Harvey remarked, chiming in. He threw his hand around Demetria’s shoulders. “Those kids are going to be well looked after thanks to her.”
“I don’t doubt that,” the woman agreed before walking off. 
Demetria turned to Harvey. “I think she realized I wasn’t one of them.” 
“Who cares?” he shrugged. “But forgetting that, you’re seriously going to become a teacher?” 
“I brought it up to Monsignor O’Malley about the possibility of teaching English. Besides, it would give me something to do that I actually like. You know, talking to them about novels and what it means to express yourself in your writing.” 
“That’s fantastic!” Harvey remarked. “You would be perfect for that.” 
“I hope so. How are you handling this...whatever it is?” 
He sighed. “I’m...just here. How about you?” 
“I wanna go into my bedroom and go under the covers and wait til’ everyone leaves.” 
“Well for what it’s worth, you look beautiful tonight.” 
“I’m working with what I’ve got.”
“Bruce is very lucky.”
“Yeah, he should be. But he decided to give up on the party.” 
Harvey furrowed his eyebrows as Demetria motioned her head to the outside. He then turned his head, the two watching Bruce and Rachel engage in what appeared to be an intense conversation. 
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Demetria wondered aloud. 
He quickly glanced over and took a look sip of his champagne. “Probably nothing.”
Her lips curved into a smirk as she eyed Harvey. “Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re getting defensive.”
“And you’re annoying me.”
“After that heartfelt speech I gave, that’s the thanks I get?” 
“It was alright.” 
She punched him in the shoulder, causing him to cringe. “Asshole. I gave a beautiful speech.”
He rubbed his shoulder. “Well, hopefully it will be just a nice ad one you’ll give at my wedding.” 
Her eyes widened. “Shut the fuck up. You proposed to Rachel?” 
“Not yet. I’m planning to.” 
Her mouth hung open as she leaned in close. “Holy shit, dude! When?!” 
“Well first there are some things I gotta-.”
“So you two are friends, yes?” another female guest inquired, cutting him off. Her arm was linked with a man who looked at least 20 years older than she did.
Harvey and Demetria turned to her. “We most certainly are,” Demetria agreed, pinching his cheek. 
“So how long ago did you two date?” one man remarked, chuckling. 
Harvey and Demetria’s eyes went wide.
“We never have,” Harvey answered.
The man elbowed Harvey, laughing. “Aw, c’mon son. It’s alright.” 
“He’s basically my brother,” Demetria said. 
The man shook his head as he and his concerned date turned away. Demetria and Harvey turned to each other.
“Oh my god these people suck,” she giggled to Harvey. “At least they’ll fund you.”
“Yeah, I could give a shit,” he retorted. 
“Mind if I steal him for a bit?” Rachel asked, chiming in. 
“By all means,” Demetria motioned. 
Harvey and Rachel went off when Demetria  noticed Bruce still standing outside. She made her way out.
“Doing ok there?”
Bruce turned to her, smiling. “So far, so good.” 
“I love you but you’re not the best liar,” she chuckled, her fingers gently combing his hair. “Babe, if you want to leave, say the word and we’ll sneak out. We can go anywhere.” 
“Tempting,” he remarked, smirking. “Where do you propose we go?” 
She cocked her head back, shoulders shrugging. “Anywhere. We could literally get in a car and go anywhere we want.” She paused. “Anywhere you want.” 
Bruce’s body turned to face her, giving her his full undivided attention. She set her glass down on the railing. 
“While I think it’s sweet that you threw this for Harvey, I don’t want to be alone in a room with people I don’t know let alone give a shit about. I would rather be with you in the middle of nowhere where we don’t have to pretend we’re people that we’re not.”
His smile faltered, his eyes going to the ground. Demeteria shoulders tightened, fear creeping into her now uneasy stomach.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “What did I do?” 
He shook his head. “No, you did nothing wrong. It’s...” He sighed. “I never want to keep anything from you.” 
“What have you been keeping from me?” she questioned, her voice low 
He scanned the area as well as the inside of the ballroom. Realizing he wasn’t the safest, let alone most secure place, he leaned closer toward her. “I’ll go in the bedroom and grab a couple things. Go tell Alfred we’re heading out. We’ll meet at the elevator, alright?” 
“Bruce-.” 
He kissed her cheek and made his way inside. Bruce pushed through the crowd, fielding attempts of conversation from partygoers. She threw her hands up in defeat as an annoyed exhale left her mouth. 
“At least we’re leaving,” she muttered under her breath.
========================================================
In their bedroom, Bruce grabbed a set of keys for one of the cars from his safe in their closet. Realizing it was probably best to bring her anxiety med, he went into the medicine cabinet only to find it wasn’t there. 
He then remembered her saying she always kept it in the drawer in her nightside table. 
Figuring she put it back, he went over to it and opened the drawer and there it was. When he pulled it out, he noticed an envelope underneath with ‘For Batman’ written on it. 
He quickly glanced back at the door to make sure the door was closed. He then set down the bag and opened the envelope to find a handwritten letter.
My Night Friend ,
There’s something you need to know about that viral video of the copycat. 
I recognize the kitchen in the video. It’s the Fatted Calf on East 28th. A guy I briefly saw in college worked there and I hung out with him in the kitchen while he was closing up the shop. 
What people don’t know is that there’s a secret room. The guy told me the owner had it made to be used as a bomb shelter back in the day. It’s located right beside the freezer. If you can get into the boss’ office, there’s a special key inside a safe that can open the door. The Joker may be taking shelter in there. 
Take what you will with this information. I hope it serves you well.
Sincerely,
Your Rooftop Friend 
Bruce’s couldn’t believe what he was reading. His fiancé, the love of his life, was helping the Batman. The severity of the situation as well as time the huge piece of information made him realize he needed to get both of them out of the penthouse and into the Batcave. He could explain everything to her there. 
Shoving the letter into the bag, he zipped it up and made his way to the door when something on the security camera screen made him stop. 
It was The Joker followed by some henchmen. 
He threw the bag in the closet hurriedly, closing the door, and made his way to the party. Seeing Harvey Dent close by talking to Rachel, he figured he’d had enough time to get Harvey to safety and then grab Demetria. 
He came up behind Harvey, putting Harvey in a headlock as Rachel’s eyes widened in fear. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” she exclaimed. 
“They’re coming for him,” Bruce said, using his Batman voice. “Go grab her and get yourselves to safety.”
========================================================
Demetria spotted Alfred near the wall area. She made her way over, catching the old man’s attention. 
“There you Miss Gallagher,” he greeted. “Are you having fun?”
“I feel like a zoo animal. I’ve had more people stare at me than actually talk to me. Anyway, Bruce and I are heading out.” 
Alfred chuckled. “You and Master Wayne are a truly perfect fit.” 
She eyed the room before leaning closer toward Alfred. “Alfred, he said he had something he’d been meaning to tell me. Any idea what it could be?” 
Just then, the sound of a single gunshot silence the room. Everyone turned, including Demetria and Alfred, to see The Joker, the man from the video, enter the ballroom with his posse of men behind him wearing clown masks. 
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” he greeted in a sing-song voice. 
His posse pointed guns at the crowd, a silent order to step back. The crowd formed a circle around The Joker. 
Alfred, who was a few rows behind the crowd, stood in front of Demetria. 
“Stay behind me,” he whispered to her. 
She watched from behind his shoulder. 
The sound of tray hitting the ground, broke the silence. The Joker looked back for a moment before turning back to the crowd. 
“We are...tonight’s entertainment.” He grabbed a piece of shrimp from a table, stuffing it into his mouth. He looked around. “Only one question - where is Harvey Dent?”
He eyed around, pointing the gun at a group of women before ripping one of their glasses of champagne from their hands and taking a swig of it. He set back on the table and began questioning those he passed, occasionally grabbing at them. 
“You know where Harvey is? Do you know who he is?”
He squeezed one guy’s cheek. “Do you know where Harvey is? I need to talk to him about something. Something little.” 
He went up to an old white man. “You know I’ll settle for his loved ones.” 
Meanwhile, Demetria felt someone grab her hand. She turned to find Rachel. 
“We need to get you out of here,” Rachel whispered. 
Demetria went to follow Rachel when she felt someone grab her hand. 
“Where the hell do you think you’re going, sweetcheeks?” one of the masked men retorted. 
He grabbed Demetria, despite her attempts to break free. Her heart rate quickened, stomach growing weak as the man pushed her in front of the crowd. 
“Hey boss!” He called out. “It’s her!”
The Joker turned to her, his fixation on her making her blood run cold. She stood frozen and helpless. He got into her face. “So this is the future Mrs. Wayne. You’re also Harvey Dent’s best friend.” 
He grabbed Demetria’s face, cradling it forcefully. 
“Harvey is your best friend, isn’t he? Your buddy ol pal?” He let out a vicious cackle. “Possibly an old lover? An unrequited love? Either way, you’re somewhat of an asset to him.”
She moved her eyes, looking around as the crowd watched her in fear.
“C'mere, look at me.” 
She whimpered, closing her eyes. 
He tightened his grip on her hair “LOOK AT ME!” 
She yelped, opening her eyes as tears filled to the brim.
“Please,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh shh, shh, shh,” he hushed her teasingly. “Well you look upset.” He asked, pointing to scars on his mouth with his knife. “Is it these? Is it the scars? You wanna know how I got ‘em?”
She didn’t have time to answer, at least he didn’t bother to give her a chance to. She went to move her head when he grabbed her again. “Hey, look at me.”
She stopped moving, her eyes on him. “So, I had a wife, who was beautiful...like you, who tells me I worry too much, who tells me I oughta smile more, who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks.” 
She squirmed when The Joker pulled her back. “One day they carve her face. And we got no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again. Hmm? I just wanted to let her know that I don't care about the scars. So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this to myself. ”
She squeaked, frightened as he put the knife to his scars. 
“And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me! She leaves! Now I see the funny side. Now, I'm always smiling!” 
He pulled her back, took the knife, and slashed her forearm, the sharp stinging, sensation causing her to let out a blood curdling scream.  She collapsed onto the ground, blood spilling down her arm and onto the marble floor. 
Demetria couldn’t move, her body frozen, mind unable to process what had just happened. She opened her mouth to speak, her chest stinging in pain and her head growing lightheaded as the Joker stepped on her bleeding arm.
“Please help me,” she begged in between her hyperventilating. “Please...I’m...I can’t...help!”
“Why doesn’t Harvey Dent come save his best friend?!” The Joker called out.
“Let her go!”
Rachel made her way. The Joker stomped on Demetria’s arm one last time.
Alfred rushed to her side. “Deep breaths, Miss,” he whispered. “Deep breaths.” 
“Alfred...I’m gonna....don’t let me...” 
“You’re going to be alright.” 
“Step back!” one of the masked henchman ordered, pointing a gun at Alfred. 
Alfred held up his hands stepping back from Demetria. The henchman walked away as Demetria continued to hyperventilate. 
She was going to die in front of everyone. Her vision became blurry, her breath uncontrollable. She watched in what she thought would be her final moments Batman attack The Joker. 
In and out of blackness, she heard glass shatter followed by footsteps. 
Tears strolled down her face as she struggled to breathe, trying to hold on to whatever breath she had left, her body shivering. Alfred rushed to her once again.
“Don’t just stand there!” he cried out. “Someone call a bloody ambulance!” 
He gave Demetria his hand, which she held onto tightly. 
“Stay with me,” he told her. “Stay with me.” 
But she wasn’t sure how long she could last. Between the chest pains and the pains from her wound and the light-headedness, she was barely holding on. 
How badly she wanted to see Bruce....and how could he leave her like this?
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QTVW Chapter 15
Showbiz* Sexy Queen (II)
----
The expression on Mu Lan's face froze as she felt her eyes blacken at the thought of the cannon fodder girl's odd wishes.
But no matter what, now that she has entered this mission world, then the original owner's wish must be fulfilled.
She sat up slightly and twisted her head to look at the glass of the car window on her left, which reflected a blurred young woman's face, and she thought to herself: from this moment on, she was Mei Mu Lan, and she would definitely take that Highland Flower, Ling Yi Yao, and pick it off, tie it up and play prop play together afterwards!
Silence….
It feels like something is broken….
Mu Lan slapped her face and retreated back to lie on the car seat….
She sighed helplessly, then picked up her purse, which was on the passenger seat, and took out her mobile phone and looked through it.
After unlocking the screen, she found that the screen saver was a costume from a youth movie that Ling Yi Yao starred in when she first started out. In this film, Ling Yi Yao's cheeks are still youthful and florid, her expression is cold and hollow, but under her eyes there is three parts deep love, three parts ignorance, three parts tenderness and finally a deep hidden fear.
In this film, she plays a high school student who is forced to enter society at an early age, and she shows the recklessness and stubbornness of this generation of young people in the face of the dark side of society.
For this role, Ling Yi Yao won the Best Newcomer Award and became famous.
The original owner was also attracted to Ling Yi Yao because she saw this movie and has been a fan of Ling Yi Yao ever since.
Mei Mu Lan once again sighed a sinful sentence, and when she saw the screensaver on her phone, she had no desire to change it, because in the original owner's phone, apart from a few friends' phone numbers, the remaining 32G of memory were all pictures and videos about Ling Yi Yao.
She ignored the picture and looked at the time, realizing that it was already three o'clock at midnight, and it happened to be the day of the university graduation party, the original owner died today and she crossed over, so she had no memories of the future now except for knowing the plot.
After drinking, the original owner drove dizzily towards Ling Yi Yao’s villa and ended up dying on the road.
Mei Mu Lan rubbed her forehead, she had just finished receiving the plot and memories and felt a dizzying sensation in her brain, coupled with the desire of the cannon fodder girl this time, it was really odd.
She thought helplessly that it would be better to find a place to rest for the night and plan the rest when she was sober.
With this in mind, she sat up, turned on her electronic search engine and, after looking at her current location, thought it would take her about two hours to get from here to Mei's house ; And it's still over an hour to Ling Yi Yao’s villa ; And it's only a ten-minute drive from Aunt Wen, Wen Xueluo's home.
Mei Mu Lan remembered that in the original owner's memory, there were many images of Aunt Wen.
Because this person, her biological mother's best friend, was also considered her godmother, although she had never called her that.
But when she was young, her birth mother and Aunt Wen were the best to her, and whenever she wanted something, Aunt Wen would find it for her.
After the death of her biological mother, the original owner had a fight with Father Mei because he immediately proposed to marry her stepmother for marriage, and she moved in with Aunt Wen for a long time, until the original owner went to college and lived at the academy.
And on Saturdays and Sundays when she was on holiday, the original owner would come back to stay with Aunt Wen's family, because of this reason, in Aunt Wen's villa, there was a room that belonged exclusively to the original owner.
Mei Mu Lan took another look at the navigation route before starting the car and driving towards Aunt Wen's villa.
Fifteen minutes later, Mei Mu Lan arrived at the door of Aunt Wen's villa, she parked the car and got out, walked to the door and rang the doorbell, after about half a minute, the door opened.
A mature woman in her early thirties with elegant features opened the door, she was wearing a thin silk nightgown at the moment and her long, wavy hair was in a messy manner, when she saw that the visitor was Mei Mu Lan, she raised her eyebrows and pulled the door open, then picked up a long, thin female cigarette at the door and lit it up to smoke.
In a haze of smoke, she saw Mei Mu Lan change her shoes and step into the living room, then asked,
“Aren't you at a college party today? Why, the party's over.”
Mei Mu Lan shook her head, sat down wearily in her chair and said lazily,
"Not yet, I left early, I just got back from a drink and I'm so dizzy."
Aunt Wen immediately took a few steps forward, lifted her hand and touched Mei Mu Lan's forehead, and said with a tsk,
“You have a fever, you know you always have a fever when you are drunk. Go, go to your room and stay there, I will get you some medicine.”
With that, she headed upstairs.
Mei Mu Lan looked at the background of her departure and frowned. She rubbed her brow, feeling very dizzy indeed.
But the original owner didn't seem to have this problem, or maybe the original owner didn't realize it, because she only got drunk twice and had no memory of it after she fell down. And Aunt Wen was able to know about it, it seems that Aunt Wen was really good to the original owner, ah.
Mei Mu Lan felt a lot of emotions in her heart, then obediently went back to her room and lay down on the **.
A strong smell of alcohol hit her nose and she sniffed her body and sighed helplessly, thinking to herself that she would take a bath tomorrow, she really had no energy left now.
She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling, noticing that there were several blurry posters taped to it.
She pulled on the lamp in front of her bed, the light came on and she could see the person on the poster clearly, it was Ling Yi Yao.
Then she turned her head and looked at the layout of the room and noticed that the walls were covered with Ling Yi Yao’s posters and photos ; There are also small pictures of Ling Yi Yao on the bedside alarm clock and decorations ; And on the other side of the **, there were Ling Yi Yao character dolls all over the place.
Mei Mu Lan's scalp tingled as she looked at it, the intensity of this star-chasing was simply terrifying, worthy of being a brain-damaged fan, even thinking of Ling Yi Yao when she was dying.
And while she was staring at the doll, Aunt Wen came in with a glass of water and a medicine dish, and when she saw Mei Mu Lan's dull and stiff expression, she said,
“Auntie Wen knows you like Ling Yiyao, but you don't need to stare at her every moment. Come on, take the medicine first, it has some sleeping ingredients, after you finish taking the medicine, get some sleep, Auntie Wen has good news for you tomorrow.”
She smiled mischievously at Auntie Wen, then with a furrowed brow and a drooping mouth, she stuffed the pills into her mouth, drank water and swallowed them, and after taking the pills, she said "Thank you, Auntie Wen" and fell asleep with her head tilted.
When she woke up, she first washed and showered, changed into her home clothes, then went to the living room and saw the note on the table, which read,
“Auntie Wen has heated up a bowl of sweet porridge in the microwave, remember to eat it when you get up, I'll be home at 6pm and have something to tell you, don't run away!”
Mei Mu Lan curled her lips, went to the kitchen to heat up the sweet porridge, walked to the dining room and ate it in a sober manner.
Once she had eaten, she went back to her bedroom, locked the door and took a pen and paper out of the drawer to write down the main points of the mission.
First : The original owner's wish is to play prop play with Ling Yi Yao, the difficulty factor of this task is much more challenging than that of raiding the villain, so this matter can be put off until after she raids the villain, then just use some tricks to complete this matter.
Second : The original owner's mother died in an accident, but after Aunt Wen's investigation, there are a lot of strange things about this matter, the original owner's mother may not have died in an accident, but was killed by someone else. Then, she needs to get this matter investigated.
Third : And the most important question of all, which is, who was the person who killed the original owner? How did the original owner be given the □, and will they take a new course of action after seeing that she is not dead? These were big questions for her life, and she had to find out.
With this in mind, Mei Mu Lan recalled her skill collection. Her favorite skills include Future Physical Arts and Basic Firearms, so it seems she needs to spend some time practicing Future Physical Arts to become proficient, and keep her weapons ready for the enemy's secret attack.
With all of the above, the second and third are confusing, so all that can be done at the moment is to raid the villain.
The villainous BOSS, Ling Yi Yao, is currently a big star who is still acting. At this point in time when she crosses over, Ling Yiyao is filming a tomb raiding movie.
In addition to Ling Yiyao, who played the lead role, two other important female supporting characters were involved in accidents that prevented them from continuing their roles in the film.
In the plot, it is mentioned that because the actor playing the supporting actress unexpectedly withdrew, the main lead of this novel, Bai Jieying, with the help of the male lead, entered the cast and played the role of this supporting actress, and eventually became famous and became the best supporting actress of that year.
After that, Bai Jieying was chosen as one of the leading actresses in the film 《Love in a Fallen City》for her outstanding performance in the film, and collaborated with the movie queen Ling Yi Yao to perform a Republican human-ghost lesbian relationship.
This first domestic lesbian film created a national and international uproar and, as a result, Bai Jieying became the talk of the town and won many international awards, setting up her future as the most popular film queen ever.
When Mei Mu Lan thought of this matter, she couldn't help but frown, this matter would become the □□□□□ of Bai Jieying's fame, for many reasons, Mei Mu Lan decided to replace her in this movie, so as to rip off the villain.
In the plot, it was cryptically mentioned that Bai Jieying's appearance in 《Love in a Fallen City》 made the villainous BOSS of this novel, Ling Yi Yao, fall in love with her, and after learning that Bai Jieying was her uncle's lover, Ling Yi Yao was ruthless enough to kill her uncle, who raised her. Two relatives, who live together, have become enemies in order to win over Bai Jieying.
The male lead chooses to be patient in the face of Ling Yi Yao's ruthless advances, but Ling Yi Yao does not repent and instead becomes more aggressive, even hurting Bai Jieying's feelings, so the male lead chooses to be righteous and kill his enemy, and the villain Ling Yi Yao ends up as a corpse in the wilderness.
As soon as Mei Mu Lan thought of this, she immediately made up her mind that she must win the supporting role in the tomb raider movie.
But how should she fight for it?
The asset she has on her hands is this exquisite and demonic skin, and every move she makes is flirtatious and enchanting with a twinkle in her eye, in addition to the fact that the original owner grew up studying theatre and grew up in a strict family of educated people, she is not only charming and attractive, but also carries the unique nobility and arrogance of a woman from a noble family.
It must be said that the character she crossed this time was a rare beauty. Mei Mu Lan drooled with emotion at the woman in the mirror, her face and body were indeed the most beautiful and stunning she had ever seen.
Mei Mu Lan reached out and stroked the silhouette of the woman in the mirror, the corners of her mouth pursed and a wicked smile was drawn up, the woman in the mirror was like a seductive demon, with a soul-stirring charm.
Now, the body's hardware is perfectly prepared, and she's on a mission to play acting itself, so her acting skills, too, are definitely of a high standard.
So, everything is ready, all she needs now is an east wind.
Mu Lan walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, deep in thought about how to create an east wind that would allow her to enter the cast of this tomb raider movie.
As she frowned in deep thought, the villa door opened and Aunt Wen walked in carrying two boxes of cakes, she saw Mei Mu Lan sitting on the sofa at the moment with a clear sadness between her brows, her breath caught in her throat, she lowered her head, changed into her slippers and by the time she raised her head again, she was back to her usual gentle self
She walked over to Mei Mu Lan and sat down, unpacked the cake box, packed it up and handed one to Mei Mu Lan, then she poked the soft cake with her fork and said in a slow voice,
“Mu Lan, a friend of Auntie Wen's is a big director who recently ran into some trouble while making a film. He wants to find an actress of your type to be the supporting actress in his film. Auntie Wen already sent him your photos the other day. After he saw them, he was satisfied and said he wanted to meet with you to talk about them, I wonder what you plan to do?”
Mei Mu Lan asked with a tilted head as she savoured the sweet cream,
“Who is this great director? What was he filming?”
“His name is Wang Ye and he is a well-known director in China. He is recently making a tomb raiding movie named, I can't remember the name, I think it is called 《The Tibetan Antelope》? It's not right, is it?”
Aunt Wen frowned in confusion.
Mei Mu Lan said with surprise,
“It's《The Burial Man》, Auntie Wen, you're my idol, I want to go!”
This is the film, this is the tomb raider film in which Ling Yi Yao stars as the female lead, now everything is in place, she must seize this opportunity.
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exposestruth · 4 years
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@smallvxlle​​ said : 5 times kissed!!! / @kryptonbound said : five times kissed but for u and jo bc i want to see the cuteness :/
one.
     being queen industries’ ceo was not a risky profession, on the contrary. but the cut on oliver’s arm told a different story. until it clicked on her head, the faceless photos jimmy had taken of green arrow. it couldn’t be possible. it was IMPOSSIBLE. wasn’t it? amongst the chaos in her brain, she couldn’t make her mind. she knew in her heart this could be true but she didn’t want to believe. it made sense but all she wanted was to forget. clark was right though, she couldn’t forget it. she had to be sure. so when he offered to help to dismask green arrow, lois took it as if her life depended on it. little did she knew that both oliver and clark were working together on this. what they failed to prevent was lois’ impulsiveness and creativity. green arrow would never let her see his face, whether he was oliver or not. kissing him by surprise sounded like the right thing at the time. “ your secret is safe with me, oliver. “  and before the fake green arrow could disappear, she jumped on him and pressed her lips against his. he hesitated, and then kissed back. and for a second, she didn’t want to let go. his lips felt like a perfect fit. felt like — NOT oliver’s. still with her lips pressed on his, she opens her eyes and his features are different than what she expected. he’s still familiar... and then oliver’s voice in the background brings her back to reality. it’s not oliver. her instinct reaction is to slap his face but as quickly as her response, he flees the scene, leaving her wonder where she has seen him before.
two.
     she no longer lived at the kent farm but the amount of time she spent there could fool anyone. living with chloe in the talon’s apartment was great. they were like sisters but both of them were busy. and none knew exactly how to maintain a healthy lifestyle. there was always coffee in the house, leftovers from takeout as well. home made meals? it was not a concept they could bring to life. because of that, game nights had become a ritual in the kent house during the weekends. they used to mix up teams, it lowered the chances of cheating or vice. lois’ idea, of course. clark kent would rather have lana or his best friend by his side but tonight he was stuck with lois as a partner. surprisingly, they were unstoppable together. it was the third time in a row that clark had guessed lois’ charade in pictionary. a loud yes is heard, the taste of victory drawing a big smile on her lips. and before anyone could realize what had happened, lois rushes towards clark, takes his face on her hands and leaves a kiss on his forehead. “ see? i told you i was good at this. you only lose when you don’t have a good matching partner, smallville. “   sitting next to him, awkwardness slowly embraces the air. catching his eye, she knows she should have stayed quiet. bless chloe for catching their attention back to the game.
three.
      if someone had told any of them that they’d end up working together, side by side, they would laugh it out. what a nightmare! and yet, lois had been the one to give clark the daily planet’s job application. and he had managed to land the job right next to her. the signs were there all along. but they kept ignoring them. being co-workers and partners had brought them CLOSER than ever before. the usual bickering became too playful for just friends. it was their thing. the longing gaze when the other wasn’t looking, the extra touch to prove a point, the sharing stories that they could handle easily on their own. there was something there, something more.
     she is rambling, something about the new story they were about to break. there were lots of times clark didn’t understand what she was talking about, even with his superhearing. her thought process was too fast for any human to comprehend. and with that comes a fast pacing that he has no other choice than to tag along. she goes into the copy room, ordering everyone in the room to leave by a hand gesture and grabs the documents she had sent to the printer. she keeps talking, about the corrupt senator they are about to expose and before she can make a question —— he presses a kiss on her rosy lips. she is caught by surprise, but her lips follow his. her hands that stopped unconsciously on his chest  s l o w l y  move up, fingers running through his hair as her body is pressed against his. he moves to her jawline, then down to her neck and she gasps for air, adrenaline rushing through her veins and she brings him closer. she wants M O R E. and then a door opens and shuts with a bang. her eyes open and she finds herself in her own bed.  wait, what?   “ lois! sorry, did i wake you? i thought you were already at the planet. “  chloe’s voice brings her back to r e a l i t y.  she looks at the alarm clock in her bedside table and immediately sits up.    FUCK! another dream about clark kent?!  when would these dreams stop getting her late to work??
four.
     he is sat on the sofa, worried eyes locked on the tv. lois gazes in his direction, observing his uptight posture as one hand runs down his face. the vra has taken a toll on him. she can see him struggle, debating whether he should join oliver and sign it or fight it alongside her. it’s a decision she can’t make for him but she hopes he knows he is not alone. crossing the room, she turns off the television, catching his eye as she sits on his lap and his body loosens. a hand strokes his dark hair gently, the silence taking over the room. they stay like that for a little while, no words needed to understand one another. they’re one and the same now, breathing at the same harmony. she then leans in and lands him a tender kiss. resting her forehead on his, she whispers, as if she’s singing him a lullaby. “ you’re NOT alone, clark. we will fight this and we will win. “
five.
     mornings had never been lois’ strong suit. she was a night owl since she was kid, always too energetic to go to bed. which would only mean being late in the morning. growing up, that never changed. she thought it would all change when the kids came to the picture but lucky for her, lois had married a SUPER! clark would take care of everything in the morning if it meant his wife would have a few more minutes of sleep. god knew she wasn’t very good at it.
      at the sound of jon playing with krypto downstairs, she opened one eye before the other. the sun coming through the window, warming her face. GOD, for how long did she sleep in?   “ clark? “   a mumble, searching for her husband’s certainty that she still had time before taking a car to work was out of question.    “ we’re still on time. “    she exhales relief, staying in bed for another second. she smells eggs, bacon, pancakes! what has she done to deserve a husband like clark kent? she gets up, choosing the first outfit that came to her reach and by the time she is ready, ella enters in the bedroom and curls up in her leg.  “ daddy got you ready too! “  she picks her up and lifts her baby girl off the ground, a bright smile greeting her daughter. a longer look at the red and blue blended in her clothes make her heart skip a beat.   “ or maybe not. let’s go baby girl. fashion sense clearly skipped a generation with your father. “    there’s an audible laughter downstairs and she smiles.  after changing ella to a more suitable, less super outfit, she arrives at the kitchen, with the youngest of the kents on her hip.  “ morning! “   she kisses jon in the top of his head as he finishes his breakfast, making her way towards clark.   “ i’ve told you, red and blue are never a good combination unless you’re a pilot with a cape. “    they both lean in, lips parted ready to meet when a high pitch EW echoes in the kitchen. lois can’t stop but laugh at the disgusted voice of her own son. jon had gotten a habit of stopping his parents from kissing, something that was hilarious to her. it made their mornings that much funnier. she steals clark a kiss anyway, their son covering his eyes with his little hands and she turns around to grab a pancake which she eats quickly.  “ chop chop, we need to get going. go grab your backpack, jon. “    he does as he’s told, clark grabs the breakfast bag he had prepared for her to eat on their way to the daily planet while she picks the coffee cup, ready to go. purse, keys: check. not that mr. kent would let her forget. and they leave the house, jon flying towards the car, ella already asleep on lois’ shoulder and she holds her husband’s hand. life has never been better.
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Overcompensating
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Summary: So, it's Thanksgiving, and Virgil is spending it with his boyfriend's family for the first time. In the quiet of post-party cleaning and after dinner coffee, Virgil gains a home and a family. Human!AU. 
Pairings: Paternal Moxiety. Background est Analogical, background est Logicality.
Warnings: none
Also on AO3 and FFN
The smells of turkey and pie had faded, and November’s early night had descended, frosty but snowless. The house, once singing with wine-flushed laughter and childish delight now only held four exhausted, lazy bodies. A Christmas movie played unwatched on the TV in the living room where Logan sat reading a book, Roman lying asleep next to him and quite possibly drooling on his lap. Occasionally, Logan would catch Virgil watching him from his perch on the kitchen counter. They’d exchange a smirk and then go back to their respective activities — Logan to his reading and Virgil to watching Patton clean up.
“Here ya go, kiddo.” Patton handed Virgil a steaming mug of black coffee, too hot to drink for now. “Watch your head.” Virgil scooted over to allow Patton access to the cabinet the was blocking. “Thanks, you’re a peach!”
“Let me help you.” Virgil made to set the mug down and hop down from his perch, feeling guilty and awkward as a guest in this man’s house, perhaps one that was overstaying his welcome despite also claiming the guest room.
Patton chuckled — not malicious, but joyful. “You are helping, ya little moonbeam. You’re keeping me company.” He started in on tossing clean silverware in the drawer. “Drink your coffee.”
Folding his legs back under him and settling in, Virgil obeyed, blowing on it for a little bit before taking a cautious sip. Jesus. An involuntary shudder ran through his body. “You people really don’t mess around with your joe, do you? Shit.” He clapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”
Patton laughed and took the cup from Virgil’s hand. “Oh goodness, you pure, beautiful lamb. Here, let’s do this.” He turned the sink on and waited for the water to warm up.“Sorry, kiddo. I live with two hyper-intelligent workaholics. I had to get used to strong coffee, too.”
Virgil chose not to say anything, but Patton corrected himself anyways, frowning and staring at nothing for a moment. “One. I live with one hyper-intelligent workaholic now.” Their eyes didn’t meet as Patton handed back the coffee, now cooler and watered down a little. There were the gentle beginnings of tears in Patton’s eyes as his gaze fixed on the living room. “You’re lucky, seeing him every day.”
Virgil’s grip on the mug tightened. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? “I know.”
Patton sighed, pushing up his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “Gosh, this is ridiculous. It’s only been two months.”
“Exactly.” Virgil shrugged, sipping his coffee. Much better. “It’s only been two months. Give it time, it’ll get easier.”
That earned him a smile as Patton straightened himself out and went back to his task. A companionable silence fell over the kitchen, the only sound the clatter of dishes and the faint sound of jingle bells lilting from the living room.
The coffee was warm, smelled sharp, wafting in tufts of steam from Virgil’s hands to his nose. It was the same warmth and spice that had massaged his senses the moment he walked into the house. Patton’s radiant smile occasionally thrown his way, Roman’s gentle snores, and Logan’s gentle hand on his sleeping father’s shoulder, only moving to turn a page…
“Whatcha thinking about, kiddo?” Patton was wiping down the stove mechanically, watching him.
“Hm?”
“You’re smiling for the first time since Logan’s Aunt Debbie arrived.”
So he was. Aunt Debbie was a fine woman, but her arrival marked the beginning of the steadily crushing stream of people invading the safe space of the Sanders home, talking and getting drunk and stifling him. He dealt with it, of course. He always had. And Thanksgiving at Logan’s childhood home was certainly better than at his own. But he had yet to figure out if it was worse when Logan’s extended family endlessly pelted him with questions or when they let him melt into the wall and pretended he was nothing more than a decoration to fill the blank wall space in the corner.
“Did you ever think that you’d end up with an astronomy professor for a son?” Virgil asked.
“Not at all,” Patton replied, scooping leftover mashed potatoes. “I used to think I’d end up with an astronaut. Then an entomologist — that’s the one that studies bugs, right? Then a physicist, then a doctor, then an archaeologist, then an environmentalist.” Patton was lost in the memory now, and Virgil was just along for the ride. “I always knew Logan would be a teacher, though.”
“Really? How?”
Patton smiled into his work. “Well, I taught him how to read when Roman was working. We couldn’t afford a nanny or daycare, so it was just me and little Logan all day. But Roman still wanted to participate and be a part of Logan’s life, so he would always ask him, ‘Hey Logan, what’s this word?’ or ‘What does that sign say?’ Eventually, Logan got it in his head that Roman had no idea how to read.”
Virgil nearly snorted coffee out his nose. “Seriously?”
“I have a photo, too.” Chuckling, Patton slapped a lid on the last tupperware filled with leftover sweet potato casserole. “Logan sat him down and said, ‘Papa, it is time you learned something very important.’”
Virgil could just picture a tiny Logan looking sternly at his Papa through his too-large glasses, his hands on his hips, his voice stern, a Dr. Seuss book in his grip. The image made him smile.
Patton sipped his own mug of coffee, shaking his head and leaning against the counter opposite Virgil. “He’s such a precious little nerd. It took all Roman had not to laugh.”
“So you do that to Logan too, huh?”
Patton blinked, eyes owlish behind his thick glasses. “What do you mean?”
Blush heated Virgil’s face in a sharp blast, shattering the easy conversation they had created over the past half an hour or so. “I don’t know. That thing you do. You know, with all the names.”
Patton looked a little embarrassed. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry. People are always telling me I get a bit weird when I do that.”
Oh, Jesus. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, call you out.”
“Oh, not at all. You wouldn’t be the first anyways.” Patton looked as if there was something else he wanted to say, but his teeth worried his lip instead.
At a loss, Virgil caught Logan’s eye again. He was leaning as if ready to hop up from the couch at the first sign of panic or discomfort on Virgil’s face. What’s wrong? His eyes asked. Virgil opened his mouth, but shook his head. What the fuck was he supposed to do right now?
“Virgil…” Patton’s voice drew him back to the kitchen, Logan’s gaze still burning into his temple. “To be perfectly honest, Logan told me a little bit about your...situation. Not everything!” he quickly reassured, noticing Virgil’s panic. “But just a little about your dad, and what happened to your mom —”
“Nothing happened to my mother,” Virgil bit out. “My mother was something that happened to me, and now she’s gone.”
As soon as the words were out, Virgil wished he hadn’t let his bitterness surface. Patton wrung a dish towel in his hands, obviously uncomfortable with Virgil and everything he had ruined in the night so far.
“What I'm trying to say, Virgil, is that we just wanted to include you.”
What? Patton’s hand was on his knee and Virgil wasn’t pushing it away. He felt unsure, he felt confused, he felt —
“When Logan asked to bring you home, I was beyond ecstatic to mean the man who makes my little go-getter poindexter so darn happy. I said yes, obviously, but when Logan told me about your home life, it broke my heart. It really did. So I panicked, I started thinking of ways to show you what real family is like. That’s why I asked everybody to make an effort to talk to you. It’s why I got Logan to have you sleep over. It’s why I decided to get in the habit of calling you the same weird pet names I call everyone that I care about. I may have overcompensated a little, but I just wanted you to feel like you’re part of this family, because you are.”
Virgil met Patton’s warm brown eyes, at a loss for words. “Thank you,” he managed. “Thank you.” And then he had to set his coffee down, had to jump down from the counter, had to throw his arms around Patton and bury his face in his neck, breathe in his scent. He smelled like cologne, like wine, like pumpkin, like all the things a real father should smell like.
“Thank you, kiddo.”
Virgil felt a hand on his shoulder and peeked out to see Logan, smiling at him in approval and relief. In all the overflowing emotion, Virgil hadn’t even considered Logan, seeing his boyfriend and his father hugging in the kitchen on one of the most family-oriented days of the year.
“Ugh, what time is it?” Roman’s voice pierced the moment, low and rough. He shuffled past the now broken hug and picked up the mug from the counter, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He took a sip, and promptly made a gagging motion which was obviously dramatized, because it’s Roman. “Gah, whose water is this?”
“Uh, mine.” Virgil raised his hand, vaguely cautious of the consequences.
Roman’s groggy gaze fixated on Virgil. He didn’t break eye contact as he dumped the coffee straight into the sink, grabbed the pot, poured himself another cup, and sipped it. He ruffled Virgil’s hair as he headed back towards the living room. “Welcome to the family, Sir Broods-a-lot.”
Virgil looked around at his new family, full of smiles and hugs and nicknames and little thumb strokes and love. Okay, so that’s what Thanksgiving is supposed to feel like.
~
@ironwoman359
I don’t do all that much regular posting, but if you would like to be added to my general taglist, I would happily oblige and also appreciate the compliment!
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marveliciousfanfics · 6 years
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Walk With Me Part 1
This is my entry for @dinnafashsoldat POC Writing Challenge.
Prompts: “You’re not taking me to bed. Ever.” “Who said it had to be the bed?” and “I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you.” Mexican!OC
A/N: I am a Mexican girl so when I saw this writing challenge I had to get on board. It is going to be about a 5-6 mini series. I love Thor. He’s my favorite! Even over Bucky and Steve because he’s just so...perfect and needs to be protected.
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How does one ask a God to pretend to be your boyfriend? I asked myself as I nearly stared down Thor from across the room. He was reading a book dressed in Midgard clothing. His feet were on the coffee table, the book in one hand and the other spread across the head of the couch. I sat on the island counter in the kitchen with a cup of coffee pretending to read the news on my tablet.
My brother’s engagement party was in two days and I may have led my family to believe that I was dating the God of Thunder. Obviously, no one believed me, but I may have been secretly sending pictures of Thor doing normal things pretending we were doing it together. I had taken a picture of him in the kitchen making himself something and saying he was making me something. Then I took a picture of him at the gym saying we were training together. My cousins got a kick out of those ones male and female. Pathetic? Maybe. Desperate? Oh hell yes.
When my mother demanded I bring Thor to my brother’s engagement I knew I was in deep shit. But I didn’t want to admit I was single. Otherwise my parents were going to throw someone at me. Probably the son of the family’s friend. I didn’t want any of that. I also didn’t want them to know I was a big liar.
So for the past week I had been trying to work up the courage to ask him. Thor and I are friendly to each other. He was single, but I knew his focus wasn’t on getting into another relationship especially with another Midgardian.
I looked down to the news and went over the speech in my head. I moved my finger up and down the screen not really reading the news. Then there was a shadow over me. I turned around and all I saw was a chest covered in a white cotton shirt. My eyes drifted upwards and was met with one of his goofy smiles.
“You’ve been stalking me for a week now,” his smile hardly faltered. “What do you want to ask me?”
All courage left me so I laughed nervously and turned back around. “I-I do-don’t know what you’re talking about.” He moved to my right and leaned on the island counter with his right arm.
He raised an eyebrow clearly not believing me. But I honestly couldn’t ask him this. It wasn’t his problem and he had a lot of problems already. I didn’t need to add anymore.
“She wants to ask you to go with her to a family party,” Wanda’s voice came from the fridge. I whirled my head at her with wide eyes.
“The fuck, Wanda?” I growled.
She shrugged. “You would have never asked.” She got a bottle of water and walked away.
“Is she right?,” he asked his eyes had never left me.
“I mean…I guess. I may have led my family to believe we were dating so they could get off my back about being single for nearly six years,” I shrugged a shoulder still avoiding his gaze.
“Dulce,” he said my name and it made me turned to him and meet his eyes.
“It’s not like we would have to kiss or…do stuff, just hold hands and hug each other,” I turned my body towards him. “And it’s just for two days. I haven’t seen my family in a long time and basically everyone thinks we’re a thing.”
“I’ll do it,” he smiled.
“Oh…okay…just like that?” I questioned.
“I have never seen you so flustered. It’s cute,” he winked and I was sure my face was priceless. Did the God of Thunder just say I was cute? I told myself not to read too much into it.
“Okay, what would you like in return?” I offered. I didn’t want him to think that I was being selfish.
“Let’s just say you owe me,” he stood up straight. “When do we leave?”
“Friday,” it was Wednesday so I knew this was going to spread around like wild fire at the compound. Tony was probably going to mock me. “Our plane leaves at eleven in the morning.”
Thor’s eyes twinkled. “Did you assume I would agree?”
“I hoped,” I smiled at him. “Thank you, Thor. My family is very…” how could I word it without freaking him out, “close and we basically tell each other everything—for the most part.”
“Well, you have two days to catch me up. How long have we been together? And how did we get together?” he walked over to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. He placed one right in front of me. “Drink. All you’ve had is coffee.”
I chuckled. I always did forget to drink water and somehow he was always around to remind me. So I opened the bottle. My head felt lighter now that the hard part was over. Well, the hard part was going to see how my dad was going to take to me bringing Thor home. I knew he had hoped I would get with the son of his best friend. So did everyone in my family. They all thought Bruno and I were supposed to get together and have the perfect family.
“Okay, so we’ve been dating nine months and we got closer during training at the gym, doing missions and me teaching you about my culture—which I have to do in two days,” I slapped my forehead.
“Ah, yes,” he took the seat next to me and since he was so damn big his knees touched mine. There was hardly any space between us. “Your parents are from Me-he-co,” he grinned widely proud of his pronunciation.
I had corrected Tony once during a mission and I guess it stuck with Thor.
“Yes, they immigrated when they were young. But they had all their children here so my siblings and I are first generation,” I said proudly. “A lot of my parents’ family is in California, which is where we are going. Southern California to be exact. I have a bunch of uncles, aunts and cousins—oh! I have an album in my room. I’ll go get it so I can go through it.”
I twirled in the stool until it let me out of Thor’s knees and I jumped off. I jogged to my room and went to my closet and pulled out the big photo album my mom made me bring with me. I went back to the kitchen and he was exactly where I left him. I got back to my spot, but faced the counter so I could place the album between us.
I opened it and the first thing was a photo of my parents’ wedding. My mom had those puffy shoulders and lots of ruffles dress and my father had his ‘mariachi’ suit on since that’s how they met. My mom had been a waitress at a Mexican restaurant where my father played with the mariachi band. He had been the singer. I told Thor and he said it was adorable. Then the next page were the pictures of the oldest sibling—my brother who was getting married.
“His name is Alfredo Junior—named after our dad, so we just call him Junior,” I explained to Thor who was looking at the pictures with great concentration. I moved on to the next one. “This is my sister Camila—she’s a wife and has two kids, a boy and a girl named Charles and Elizabeth—my sister is a big Jane Austen fan. My parents hated the names at first, but they’ve learned to live with it. Charlie is eight and Eliza is five.”
He nodded his head. I went on to the next page.
“This is Beatriz—or Betty and she’s getting her Master’s in teaching. She’s the smart one in the family. Now, what I’m about to show you doesn’t leave this…kitchen,” I laughed and he did too. I turned the page and revealed my baby pictures.
“Oh, my! Look at little Dulce!” he all but yelled.
“SHHHH!” I looked around to make sure no one was around. 
“You were such a cute child. Look! you dressed up as a witch!”
“I was very into witchy stuff when I was younger,” and then attempted to turn the page, but he grabbed my hand to stop me. He either released some electricity with his hands or I felt a connection. I pulled my hand away, but he didn’t seem to notice or feel it because he went on to stare at my pictures.
I held my hands and tried to shake off from that and since it had been clearly one sided I had to pretend nothing happened. He finally let me go on. I had a lot of family so it took about two hours to go through the album. There were some photos I removed because they were too painful to look at. At the end Thor asked if he could keep it so he could study it. For some reason I agreed to let it happen. Maybe this was going to be a huge mistake.
The next day I was woken up by the sound of my cellphone going off. I reached for it at the night stand and saw that it was my sister Camila. I groaned. I answered because we couldn’t ignore a family call—not ever again.
“Yes?” I answered with a dry throat.
“You’re really going to bring Thor to the party?” her tone told me she still didn’t believe me and if I was her, I wouldn’t believe me either.
“Uh, duh. I told you so,” I scoffed but felt bad for lying to my whole family. But for so long they were pushing and pushing me to get with Bruno, but I knew what he wanted. He wanted a trophy wife and after New York I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. So I decided to join SHIELD—which had fallen, but then I was recruited by Tony to work for the Avengers so I took the offer even though I was going to have to live across the country from my family.
Not a lot of my family moved out of states. Sure we had family in Mexico, but the ones we did have stayed close, except me.
“How did you snatch a snack like that?”
“Because I’m an incredible catch, you bitch,” I sat up on my bed and across my room was my dresser where I could see my disheveled hair. I was not a fucking catch at all. “There were sparks and voila, he asked me out. I said yes.”
There was a giggle in the background and I knew it was Beatriz.
“Does he have a big dick?” Betty couldn’t contain her laugh.
I couldn’t hide mine either. “The biggest I’ve ever had.” I leaned back on my headboard. “And does he use his fingers so well.”
“Goddamn stop it!” Junior yelled.
“Am I on speaker?!” I growled.
“Relax it’s just us,” Betty continued to laugh. “Ma went to set up the backyard and Pa went to get his mariachi suit from the cleaners.”
“Is he putting his band back together?” I rubbed my face in frustration.
“Better warn the God of Thunder that Pa is going to grill him for dating his ‘innocente princesa’,” Camila mocked calling me an innocent princess.
“Have you warned Bruno?” the concern in Betty’s voice told me she still had a huge crush on him. I didn’t know why dad didn’t push them together since Betty really liked him.
“Should I?” I didn’t really think about that.
“Hello, you are literally bringing a God.”
“Bruno is good looking too!” Betty defended.
“Yes, we get it. You have the hots for him, Betty, but he only has eyes for Dulce.”
“It has been years. I’m sure he’s moved on. He’s had girlfriends so…he’s moved on,” I wasn’t so sure of that because those relationships didn’t last that long.
“Suuuuure,” Junior and Camila said at the same time.
“Okay, bye, putas, I gotta go shower and teach Thor how to dance la becadrita.”
“Is he bringing the Stormbrea—“
I ended the call before Junior finished. I groaned at how I was ever going to teach Thor to dance. I didn’t know how they danced at Asgard. Did he have to left feet? Would he be okay just learning the basics? Just so when we danced we didn’t look like complete idiots.
A/N: to me this is how I picture Dulce. She’s a Mexican actress and her name is actually ‘Dulce Maria’. Rebelde was a mexican soap opera that happened to be my guilty pleasure.
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randomconnections · 6 years
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Thai, Slides, and Drums
Vernal Equinox Sunset over Fidalgo Island – a photograph that has absolutely nothing to do with the attached post, but included because I like it.
For a Wednesday there was a LOT going on. There were trips back into town and to see more daffodils, as well as new musical and food experiences. Here’s a quick rundown of the day…
Laura wanted to see more of the daffodils. We headed into La Conner for lunch at our favorite BBQ place, then out across the flats. Since I’ve photographed these fields many times, I decided not to stop and take photos that looked just like the ones I’ve already posted. Plus, it was starting to get crowded to looky-loos. We enjoyed them from our car, instead.
Laura’s new hammock arrived. It’s an ENO knock-off, but a double-nest hammock plus straps cost only as much as the Atlas straps did for my ENO. It seems to work just as well. While she attempted to read I kept buzzing her with my quadcopter.
I had multiple options for the evening. There was another Irish session at Village Pizza. I seriously contemplated attending, if for no other reason than to bolster my confidence with that genre. Not only was it another Bring Your Own Guitar night, but I had also discovered a drum circle, also in Mount Vernon. I wanted to do all of them.
Thai Food
First, though, was the matter of dinner. I was craving Thai food and had thought that I’d just walk down to Thai House Restaurant. It’s on the same street as Empire Ale, where we have BYOG, so it would be a good close option. Turns out I found an even better, closer option.
I parked right across from Empire Ale on a side street. Right in front of me was a little hole-in-the-wall place called Rachawadee Thai. Balancing between skepticism and adventure lust, I tipped over to the adventure side.
The place was tiny. There was one long counter with about eight seats and a cooking/prep space just on the other side.
I got there right after it opened for its 5:00 dinner service. Already there were a couple of people sitting at the counter awaiting orders. I had just beaten the rush. Lots of take out and eat-in customers filed in after me. Space was at a premium.
Those of us seated squeezed in tighter to make room at the end of the counter. You absolutely had to be sociable in this setting. I chatted with the young woman next to me. Jen told me about her upcoming backpacking trip across Europe, starting in Iceland, then heading to the Scandinavian countries to visit relatives.
The menu has standard Thai fare at reasonable prices for this area. There are warnings that their dishes are hotter than most. Even so warned, I ordered Pad Thai with chicken about medium spicy. It came out hot – much spicier than what we’ve had in other places. It was delicious. I enjoyed my meal and the company, even though perspiration streamed from my forehead. This place is a keeper.
Slide Guitar
From Rachawadee it was just a short step down to Empire Ale. Lisa and Ann were already there getting set up for our slide guitar workshop. Sherry and newcomer Jax joined us. It was a small group.
I’d not really tried slide guitar, but took to it quickly. Lisa had an injured finger on her left hand, hence the slide sessions. She led us through some exercises then we tackled a couple of simple pieces.
About halfway through we switched back to our standard repertoire, but I stayed on slide, playing the melody and trying to improvise against their chords. It was fun.
Drum Circle
I’ve been looking for drum circles ever since coming to the PNW. Sadly, every one I’ve found looked too “New Agey” for my tastes. I just wanted to bang on a drum and make cool rhythms without getting too holistic and spiritual about it.
I finally came across one listed in Facebook that might be tolerable. The event listing described it as “Learn World Rhythm drumming in a fun and safe atmosphere.” Of course, it was the same night as BYOG, but it started a bit later, running from 7:00 to 8:00. The venue was almost right across the street from Empire Ale at the Mortar and Pestle Apothecary.
As I headed out for the evening I tossed my djembe in the back of the car with my guitar, just in case. I figured I could either leave BYOG early and walk across the street, or just pop by later. I decided upon a more casual approach than full participation.
We finished BYOG around 7:30. I invited my fellow guitarists to come along and see what this was about. Only Jax took me up on the offer. We dropped the guitars off in my car and wandered down to the Apothecary.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. When I hear the word “apothecary” I think of an old-time pharmacy. Laura reminded me that this was Washington State, after all, and that an apothecary that advertised herbal remedies might have a different meaning out here.
When Jax and I got there the lights were on, but we couldn’t see any activity. I was about to turn around and head back but Jax tried the door. It was locked, but a set of bells attached to the door rang. A woman poked her head from behind a curtain and approached us skeptical. No turning around now.
As she opened the door a crack I said that we had heard about the drum circle and wondered if we could listen to the last ten minutes of their session. We were led to the “Crones’ Loft” upstairs, where two other women sat with djembes. Mary Ellen was the session leader, Donna was the owner of the venue, and Katherine/Crystal?? (I can’t remember the name) was the other participant.
Jax and I took a seat and the trio started playing some of the patterns they had been learning.
I’d left my djembe in the car since we were just on reconnaissance. They still invited us to join in. Donna passed me her drum and she and Jax took shakers. We went through several rhythms for about fifteen minutes or so.
The group is using patterns from a book entitled Congo Joy. It had the familiar “bass”, “tone” and “slap” notation with which I was familiar from my classes with Ben Weston. However, the book appears to be unavailable now.
Afterwards we chatted a bit. Mary Ellen is an elementary music teacher and a percussionist with the local symphony. I gave them my background in music and drumming. The group was curious about our BYOG events and I invited them to the new Bring Your Own Buckets and Sticks which would start next week.
The venue, the books on healing and spirituality, and the wall decorations led me to believe that this could have easily been pushed into the New Age realm. I was honest and told them that I was glad to find a drumming event that focused on the music education rather than spiritual aspects. Donna said that the spiritual type of drumming was what she originally wanted, but that Mary Ellen had convinced her to go a different direction.
There were only three there tonight, but usually there were from five to seven participants. The group meets once a month, usually on the third Wednesday. I didn’t ask if they were all women or the make-up of the group in general, but the phrase “Crones’ Loft” led me to believe this is mostly a female-leaning group. Even so, they had no problem with Jax and me being there.
As we left Donna showed me around her place. The upstairs loft where we drummed is a reading nook, complete with a kitchen. Downstairs were gallon jars full of various herbs (none of them cannabis.) There were a few small drums, incense bowls, and other items for sale, including “healing teas, herbs lotions and salves” according to the FB page. Donna also makes herbal soaps and showed me a table with her creations.
I thanked Donna for letting us crash their party and having faith in us. As far as she knew we could have been a couple of street thugs just wanting in, but she let us in. As a result we met some nice folks and got to do a bit of drumming. I’m glad Jax went ahead and tried the door.
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wishingfornever · 6 years
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11/18/17 – No Contact:  State of Decay
Esther’s Nation will be destroyed today.  Or tomorrow, I’m not sure.  That’s sad, but it’s acceptable.  Less of a spit in the face, you know?  I made her flag.  Glad she won’t be using it anymore.
Last night, I couldn’t sleep.  I came up with a plan to target Dennis. He, in his foolhardiness, believes he has to froth and demand and yell in order to defend Esther.  I know this because he got on Shane’s case for calling Esther a whore.  Then Shane got on my case and claimed he didn’t, even though he just deleted the message.
What a dick.  I know what I saw, I know how I felt when I saw him call Esther a whore.  I remember because I felt the same when she called herself a whore. Whatever.  Point is, if I wanted to get back at Dennis, I’d have to offend Esther in some way.  That way, he’ll start frothing and will threaten me.  In his anger, he’ll call me out in a sort of sense that says, “Fight me!”  He’ll do this because he doesn’t think I’ll return but I plan to come back for my truck.  Thus, I’ll accept the challenge and show up.  I’ll bolster and taunt and he’ll cower inside, not really expecting to fight.  I’ll show Adriana what he said and told her I accepted and that he picked a fight with me. The thing is, if he DOES fight he’ll have to invite me onto his property as well as agree to a fight.  That’d be totally legal. Private property.  That’s how boxing is still legal.
That said, I’m not expecting him to fight but I am expecting Adriana to yell at him.  It’ll cause struggle and strife and would be enough to punish him.  If he does decide to fight, then I get to slap him around.  It’s a win win.
One problem is is that Esther would hate me for it.  Worse yet, the only way I can see it coming to fruition is if I just let loose her secrets to her mother.  That’d be the only way to target her right now.  And I’m not entirely convinced I can do that to her just yet.  An inability to commit… that’s my biggest problem.
Thing is, I considered doing something else.  He was looking for a job, right?  I mean, not anymore obviously, but he was.  I was going to try to find out what job he had and then call and leave a horrible complaint that would lead to him getting fired! BAHAHAHAHA!!!
Problem is, that’s illegal.  Not that I generally care about the law, but I’d rather not do something that would jeopardize myself.  It’d be a great way, but it’s slanderous and would lead to a financial loss and I could get sued. Even if I’m sure he’d NEVER find out (which I’m sure he wouldn’t because nobody ever checks anonymous complaints) it’s still not a good idea. I’m angry, but I’m not going to break the law to have vengeance.  Rather, I will dance near the edge but well within the confines of what is allowed. ��It’s worse that way for him because he’ll want to retaliate but he can’t. I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking that I hate him again, but I don’t.  I’m just… bitter.  I demand justice in my divine pettiness.  He has done a LOT of suspicious things and I never held him to it.  I chose to let it go but he decides to block me again? Fuck.  That.  Shit. Hell, Esther deserves to get shit on as well.  It’s coming back to me and I wasn’t that bad to her.  Of course, I did do those things she’s claimed I’ve done but it wasn’t as frequent as it sounded to be. Not trying to justify anything, but I had entirely stopped before everything went down.  And, of course, she put me through the wringer too. Keep in mind, before “The End” she and I were planning something.  She’d come back just to see me.  She said it’d help her.  If I were as bad as I seemed, she wouldn’t have agreed to that.  Or maybe she lied and said that to make me feel better.  I don’t know.  I trust her, though.
So… might be worth it.  But I’m not angry enough to do that.  I guess I’ll keep it, just in case something happens.  I doubt it would, but who knows?
It occurred to me.  I made a joke about giving Dennis a character and making that character have a tiny penis in one of my books.  Why don’t I do that? That’s a good vengeance… my side of the truth, taken for all.  Of course, my side will be the most honest truth.  Not because it’s me but because I’ve acknowledged my shortcomings.  I’ve confronted my wronghoods.  It will be the most honest because I don’t care about my own image. It’ll have to be in that book idea I was flirting with.  Basically a Jade Empire fan-fiction, but more lore I suppose.  Fantasy China.  I already have the names.
It’ll be perfect.  There is no grander revenge than telling the world he has a tiny penis.  And it’d be legal because it’s not him but inspired by him.  Then again, imagery laws are a pain in the ass. I’ll have to look.
Eh… Looking back.  I find it ironic.  I’m still just so upset but a few weeks ago, I wasn’t.  I was hurt.  I said I was planning something but nothing ever came from it.  I sent him an email, using one of the videos Esther made when she was here.  Just a masturbation session, nothing important.  I sent him an email wanting to make up. I offered the video despite him blocking me and I even told him a few things to help him out.  Nothing much…  I feel dumb now.
Ugh… I’m just… so disheartened right now.  Time to immerse myself elsewhere.  ><
Oh! They’re finally releasing a WWII Enfield Airsoft Rifle.  That’s really great.  Appropriate one too, not the earlier variant.  I know, a bit random considering my angry rant but Youtube proposed a video demonstrating it.  If you know me, I LOVE history and airsoft so historical airsoft rifles are perfect.  I’m super stoked.  It’s a good thing.
Anyways, Adela is asleep right now.  I’m going to skin some carrots and eat them because I’m waiting for dinner.  We’ll go shopping today or tomorrow.  No more Hot Pockets. They’re… too easy.  Too quick.  By the time I eat one, I already want another. So, they’re not healthy.  I was hoping they’d be a quick meal substitute but they’re not.  I guess I’ll have to use the rod on myself and focus on getting food that requires SOME effort.  Otherwise, what’s the point?  I’ll just eat right through it.
I still have a couple onions and a tomato that I haven’t chopped up. I’ll do that later today.  I wonder if I still have bread…  Might make a breakfast sandwich for myself when I’m done with the onions and tomatoes.  Or I could do something with the broccoli.  You know, what I’ve been flirting with this entire time.
Nah, carrots for now.  Broccoli tomorrow.
I spoke to Ariel.  She hasn’t been eating lately, so I was making sure she was.  She had McDonald’s which is weird because she isn’t usually into fast food.  However, it’s still… edible, I guess. Don’t want her to starve, even if what she is eating is unhealthy as sin.
I want a burger right now.
Just finished the carrots.  They were… meh.  Ah, well.  :/
I received some peculiar news.  Very peculiar.  I’ll keep it to myself for now, but science is ahead.  The coming experiment will involve my lovely Ariel and her beliefs.  There is a chance she could LITERALLY GET HURT but there is also a possibility that she won’t even find out and nothing wrong will happen to her.  If this experiment requires her to suffer even a little bit like as menial as bumping her small toe on a coffee table, I’ll halt it.  However, for the sake of science, if the way to do it can be done without any harm at all? Then it will be a go.  ;)
Speaking of experiments, I decided something.  I toyed with this idea before but I think since I’m losing weight, if I lose enough I’ll enlist.  Probably Marines, not to prove myself but because their dress uniform is nice.  That and their camo doesn’t look like barf.
The reason for this is so I can have some idea what I’m talking about when writing my country’s lore.  Of course, I should probably also become a lawyer, a scientist, a pro athlete, and a doctor to cover all the other bases but that’s not the point.  I have a relatively decent familiarity with the law.  Could I be my own lawyer?  No.  Hell no.  God no.  I’ll need a lawyer, but I have a certain tact for laws.  The rest, it will be fine because healthcare between countries tend to be relatively similar, the biggest concerns are often with how to receive the healthcare.  Thus, mixed with science, I can imply that some medical experiments have been great success.  Besides, setting up a scene for a doctor is easy.  Esther got a set of scrubs for $20.  Hell, I think I bought it for her.
One scene that’d be HARD to get would be a cooking scene.  My country’s cuisine is that of fish and cheese.  An islander diet, go figure for Psuedo-Cuba.  A professional kitchen would have to be borrowed.  With a medical thing, you can just set up drapes and make it look like an operating room easily and can hide a lot of the background with a light. A lot of cooking supplies in a photo shoot for cooking.  -,-
I think science and military would be the most expensive shots to get.  But I’m not just doing photos, I’m also writing a bunch of lore.  I’ve been looking a lot into Elon Musk’s progress into science.  That’s going to be a lot.  Desalination plants in my country have to be a thing.  Defintiely need those.
I’m hungry.  Dumb carrots.  -,-
I did it again.  Adela and I went out for dinner.  I had chicken. GRAAAAAAAAAAH!!!  I had to, I was talking to Ariel about that sandwich and how good it was.  It was just as good as ever.  I wish to make a sandwich as good as that on my own time.  What’s their secret?
Chicken and bacon.  Stupid vegetarianism.  :c
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