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joeycontextual · 2 years

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FINAL PIECE

Link to animation:

https://youtu.be/xv_c0L5Leio

The animal I got given for this project was the seagull. There are many different types of gulls, however the one we are most accustomed to is the herring gull. Herring gulls are large in size, with white and grey feathers and pink legs. My prompt given by Paul was “Flocking over the rubbish tip, behind the trawler out at sea, roosting on the roofs of gentrified Hackney, stealing pasties from the hands of tourists in St Ives, yellow bills and beady eyes.”

I first started out by looking at recent news articles about seagulls and noticed that a lot of them were centred around their aggressive behaviour towards people, usually with a mention of some sort of disease. I wondered why seagulls were starting to be seen more inland, after walking around Crawley and noticing how many there were in a town a bit out of the way of the sea. “From a gull’s eye view, our cities and towns are a series of rooftop islands surrounded by steep cliffs. Nesting there brings a number of advantages – it helps to keep them safe as fewer predators tend to prowl around human architecture. There is also often no shortage of food on the streets below.” (King, A. BBC.)

It made me think more about our relationship with the seagull and how there’s something scarily human about them. They’re loud, opportunistic creatures who make their presence known and have been referred to as a pest to other living things, and when we as a society have been the reason as to why a lot of animals are pushed out of their natural habitats for construction and things like the industrialisation of fishing, it is evident why animals move into our larger cities when they have nowhere else to go. A study has shown that seagulls prefer food that has been touched by a human (University of Exeter, 2020) and lead author of the study, Madeline Goumas said that “our study shows that cues from humans may play an important part in the way gulls find food, and could partly explain why gulls have been successful in colonising urban areas.” As well as these reasons, the lack of natural predators in urban areas make it a safer place for gulls to inhabit.

An artist’s work I was most intrigued by is by an unnamed graffiti artist, their work being found on the streets of Tenby, Wales, a place that has been notoriously associated with being a hub for seagull habitation. A piece that interested me the most featured three seagulls stacked one on top of the other in a large trench coat. Although there has been speculation of the meaning of the piece, with the artists identity remaining unknown, there is no definitive answer. It reminded me of my personal ideas of seagulls, that they’re absurdly human-like in the way they interact with the world around them, and the idea of gulls taking on characteristics of humans whilst living in densely populated areas doesn’t seem to far fetched when taking this in mind.

I wanted to think back on seagulls and the folklore surrounding them, and got interested in the idea of sailors and their superstitions whilst at sea. I found out that sailors had told stories surrounding gulls and other birds, whether being a bad omen or even inhabited by the soul of their fellow sailor. “Seagulls are considered to be, strange as it may seem, a bad luck because they are associated with the stormy petrel. These birds are regarded as objects of superstitious fear and are believed to possess the supernatural agency in creating danger for the mariner… Many seamen also think of seagulls as souls of the dead/departed sailors and if three seagulls flow overhead that maybe the sign of the coming death on board.” (Nikulina, O.L. Pg. 86)

I was mostly inspired by the sailor’s superstitions surrounding seagulls and decided to make my animation around this and the personification of seagulls. The plot is centred around two sailors, one considerably younger, less experienced and more sceptical; the other being an older sailor, teaching the younger about some of the beliefs surrounding gulls, mentioning their human qualities. Whilst the younger sailor is telling the older that he thinks he’s being overly superstitious, he slumps over to look out at the sea, before making eye contact with a screaming gull. He hides behind the older sailor as he laughs, asking him if he still thought the gulls didn’t act human. I wanted to create something a bit different to what I usually make, in more of a tongue in cheek way in comparison to the work I make that’s a lot more serious or directly inspired by horror. I enjoyed looking into the folklore of sailors and wanted a more nautical theme aesthetically, and a comedic tone to match with the absurdity and fear people see in seagulls.

Sources:

ITV News (2022) Available at: https://www.itv.com/news/wales/2022-08-13/mysterious-seagull-artwork-likened-to-banksy-pops-up-in-welsh-town (Accessed: 16 January 2023).

King, A. (2021) BBC. Available at: https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20210615-why-sea-gulls-are-making-their-homes-in-our-cities (Accessed: 16 January 2023).

McBride, A. (2018) National Geographic. Available at: https://blog.nationalgeographic.org/2018/01/31/just-a-seagull-nope/ (Accessed: 16 January 2023).

Nikulina, O.L. (2020) 'Origin and Etymology of Marine Superstitions'. Available at: http://novafilolohiia.zp.ua/index.php/new-philology/article/view/434/410 (Accessed: 16 January 2023).

University of Exeter (2020) Available at: https://www.exeter.ac.uk/news/homepage/title_779427_en.html (Accessed: 16 January 2023).

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wing-ed-thing · 4 years

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Cabaret (Might Guy x Reader, Chapter XI)

Synopsis: You can’t stand Might Guy. Honestly, how could anyone be so boisterously unaware and sickeningly positive? Your heart sinks as the both of you are teamed up to infiltrate and collect information from the Hidden Sound’s gritty underground. Maybe losing yourselves in the dark of the the Sound’s nightlife will help you both come to an understanding.

Word Count: 2,198

Tags/Warnings: Alcohol/Alcohol Abuse, Language Probably

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIIIChapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI

Notes: So I originally made a 14 chapter outline and well, it’s been mostly used up. Oop.

“Who do you think was the Leaf’s informant in the first place?” Those words resounded in your head. A shiver worked its way down your spine and your mind went blank. Only those words. The sentence broke apart, rattling around as they bounced against the sides of your skull. Leaf. Informant. Who did you think? First place? And the first thing out of your mouth didn’t include an accusation, but only a—

“Why?” You looked up, forehead scrunched. The flames around you died down to non existence. A puff of smoke wisped into the air, a vague reminiscence of your flaming spirit energy.

“That’s an easy one.” Orochimaru’s smirk morphed into a deep scowl. “We both want the Akatsuki out of my territory.” You snorted and crossed your arms.

“Why would I want the Akatsuki out of y—”

“Perhaps I should rephrase.” Orochimaru cut you off quickly, taking a step closer to you. He cleared his throat, putting his smug exterior back on. “We both want the Akatsuki to take a hit, don’t we? You must know by now that they’re trying to take my army out from under me.”

“Teaming up with you,” You mused with a huff before giving the pair a sceptical look out of the corner of your eye. “How much did Lady Fifth know about this?”

“Enough,” Orochimaru shrugged. “Now, now, dear, Kabuto tells me you’re smart. We’ve left the Leaf alone for quite some time—” You scoffed, once again cutting off the snake Sannin.

“Yeah, after killing our last Hokage and kidnapping a child,” You muttered. Orochimaru’s eyes narrowed, unamused.

“Sasuke Uchiha came to me of his own free will. But that is beside the point.” He was beginning to get impatient. You could tell, feeling the ever so slight shift in his tone. If anything, Tsunade had been right to send an empath. Orochimaru remained ever-cognizant to not let himself falter. “We’ve left the Leaf alone. The question for you is if you want the Akatsuki organization to assume power over yet another village, a shinobi village, or if you’d rather it belong to a Sannin who has no intention of harming you… anytime soon that is.”

“And in exchange?” You found yourself questioning. Orochimaru quirked an eyebrow.

“And in exchange you get to walk out of the Sound alive.” Kabuto stepped forward. His palms faced the ceiling, a gesture of good will as he motioned towards you.

“Your mission will be done quicker. You’ll have new information available to you. We’ll allocate any resources you need.” He pushed up his glasses. “And of course you’ll have back-up whenever you need it.” Orochimaru glanced at his underling.

“Is that what you kids are calling it now?” His jest was ignored and he once again met your eye. “Take some time to think about it, m’kay, dear? We’ll be hearing from you soon, I’m sure.” And just as the pair turned to leave, you called out.

“Wait!” Orochimaru glanced over his shoulder.

“Yes?” He purred, smirking.

“Why me?” You demanded in all cliché. Orochimaru sighed, disappearing from the apartment, leaving Kabuto to answer your question.

“You’re the one calling the shots on this mission, aren’t you? Since you’re the point of contact?” An appeal to your ego. The words sounded familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place from where. You couldn’t read Kabuto’s features in the slightest. You had a lot to think about.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

***

You needed a drink. You didn’t know a whole lot right now, but that you could safely say that at the very least. The door of your apartment slammed behind you. Darkness enveloped your studio and no you made no effort to turn on any lights. You made a b-line for the kitchenette. As you opened the fridge, the light flooded over your face. Nothing strong enough. You flicked on the lights above the counter island to look in the bottom cabinets. Vodka. That’ll do nicely. You resurfaced, slamming the bottle on the counter and that’s when you noticed the large figure sitting on your bed in the darkness.

“Holy shit!” You let out a string of curses and clutched your chest. “Guy, you scared the shit out of me.” He didn’t say anything and you didn’t wait for him to. You went to unscrew the top of your bottle and took a long, deep swig. The ethanol burned your throat, leaving you with an almost medical aftertaste. But you wouldn’t be a very good hostess if you couldn’t handle that. You put it back up to your lips. The liquid glugged, large bubbles bursting at the bottom of the bottle. You could already feel your stomach begin to heat up, the buzz creeping up on your slower than you would have liked. Worrying about the mission and Orochimaru could wait, you didn’t want to deal with it. You turned your attention back to Guy who remained ever-silent. “Maito, are you okay?”

He sat completely still in the dark. His legs were long enough for his feet to lay flat on the floor. His elbows met his knees and he made no effort to move from his hunched over position. Guy slowly raised his head, face completely emotionless.

“Where were you?” He asked quietly. You smiled nervously.

“I was with Shou, on dohan, remember? I told you that.” Guy shook his head.

“I saw Shou. I served him at the bar and he said that he hadn’t seen you.” He frowned. You didn’t even bother denying his silent accusation. He was right. “I looked for you everywhere. I thought something happened to you.” You took another swig of your sizable drink, leaning over the counter.

“I-I’m sorry.” At best, the apology came off insincere. Guy ignored it.

He repeated himself, “Where were you?” Your tongue ran across the edge of your lip. You weren’t going to insult him further with a lie.

“Orochimaru has a proposition for us,” You opted and Guy’s eyes went wide.

“What?” You sighed, wishing that you could just go to sleep. You took a deep breath.

“I said, ‘Orochimaru has—”

“I heard what you said.” Guy stood from your bed, a single hand gestured towards you. He looked visibly upset. His usual joyful expression had since vacated his features. He clenched his jaw, looking troubled and worried. “And you’re telling me that you went to go meet him alone? We just had a conversation about how you can count on me. And what did you say?”

“No, Guy, I do. I do trust you.”

“You said, ‘I know. I know I can trust you, Maito’. I thought that we were starting to get somewhere. That if you were to talk to Orochimaru, you at least would have brought me to back you up instead of leaving me blindsided to figure it out from some random Sound ninja later.”

Guy didn’t yell. He didn’t raise his voice in the slightest, he was just quiet. You almost wished that he were angry. He just sounded tired.

“We were, we are getting somewhere. I really do trust you, you’ve been a great partner. I didn’t even know that I’d be talking to Orochimaru—”

“Then who did you think you were meeting?” You looked up, meeting his eye from the other side of the counter. He already knew. Guy folded his lips and cast his head down. He sighed again. “I had a bad feeling about him and I had a bad feeling when I asked you about it. But I thought that you had it under control.”

“I do have it under control.” You were beginning to lose patience.

“No.” Guy looked you dead in the eye. “No, you don’t.” He ran his thumb across the corner of his mouth, casting his gaze to the side. “You’ve got a really powerful gift, but it makes you vulnerable. I’ve seen how much you drink. You should have had more time to train before you were thrust into a mission like this.” You glared at him with gritted teeth.

“What are you implying? That I’m unfit for this mission?” Guy turned back to you, serious and emotionless. He refused to answer, so you pushed a bit harder. You crossed your arms. “Say it. Just come out and say it.”

“I never said that you were unfit for this mission.”

“Well, make a definitive statement or back off.” A pause. The tension hung thick in the air around you. You felt heated, perhaps due to the alcohol.

“I’m going to contact the Leaf tomorrow. One of us has to come off of this mission. We’ll need as much help as we can get if Orochimaru is involved.” He turned to leave.

“Don’t you get it?” You snapped, “No one is coming to help us. Godaime knew, okay? She sent us in blind. Orochimaru has been our informant this whole time.” Guy stopped. You continued, “Orochimaru confirmed that the Akatsuki are here or at least trying to recruit. He proposed an alliance.”

“For what?” Guy once again faced you. “Orochimaru couldn’t possibly want something for nothing.”

“He said that he just wants the Akatsuki out of the Sound. What throws me is the fact that Godaime didn’t say anything about it.” Guy sat, his frustration morphing into a puzzled curiosity. He furrowed his brows. “He’s willing to help. Anything we need he’ll provide.”

“You didn’t take it, did you?”

“I didn’t give an answer.” The corners of Guy’s lips drooped father downward. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“‘No’ might have been a good answer.” You stepped back, hands on your hips.

“Orochimaru has information. We’ve been working HEAVEN for a long time and we’ve drawn up nothing. Our original hunch that Orochimaru is behind all of this is completely down the drain now.” You gazed at your large bottle and wanted to take another drink but Guy’s words burned in the back of your throat the way liquor never could.

“How do you know that this isn’t some kind of ploy? He still could be behind all of this and is just trying to throw us off.” You sucked on the inside of your cheek, your hand coming over your mouth.

“You didn’t see his face when he was talking about the Akatsuki. He’s pissed.” You met Guy’s eye. If you couldn’t read him before, you certainly couldn’t now. He remained still and listening. “This mission can be over with even faster than we imagined. We could go home.”

“You can’t stand me that much,” Guy stated, trying not to let his words bite. “So much that you’re willing to work with the man who terrorized our own home?”

“I can stand you perfectly fine. I know it may come as a surprise but I don’t hate you, you know.” You sucked in a sharp inhale.

“Well then what is it?” You became aware of your chest as anxiety burrowed a hole deep in the pit of your ribcage. You cast your eyes away but Guy continued to look upon you expectantly.

“I don’t know.” You went to maneuver around the counter, but Guy swiftly stood from his seat to block you. Your head hung.

“Yes, you do.” He stood, unyielding, above you. “As your partner, I deserve to know.” You dared to look up at him. He felt overwhelming, his scent overcoming you and his emotions pungent in the air. “Please.” You followed his lips as they moved. “Let me in.”

Hardly after a moment of consideration, you nodded and immediately kicked him in the knee. And as he doubled over to around your height, you scooped his face into your hands and planted your mouth on his. His lips felt soft as they gingerly moved against yours and after a moment of shock, his hands found your waist. You poured all of you mixed emotions into his chakra network. His energy spilled into your system, washing over every inch of you and you let it. You let the memories circulate away: news of your mission, nights in training, watching him perform his tricks from the other side of the bar. You loaded it all out: the annoyance, the fear, the comfort. And in exchange you felt his helplessness, worry, and doubt. Guy pulled you closer and you couldn’t help but squeak into his mouth. An unspoken longing.

But when you broke away, you broke away quickly. Guy seemed to be more at peace, happier. His usual Might Guy glow came back and for once that night, you could read a semblance of normalcy on his face. He visibly relaxed as if something in him melted away when he crashed into you.

“I didn’t know how to explain it. How I was feeling.” And then all of that went away. His slight smile dropped. He cleared his throat.

“Okay.”

That was all he said before he left and you didn’t know where you went wrong. You didn’t stop him. You wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him the next day either. You wouldn’t have the time. HEAVEN would be even more frantic than usual and that was because Yuzuki was dead.

Notes: I think I might just post a link to the A03 every time a new chapter comes. Cabaret will no longer have a schedule with my other works. I’ll just double post one day and it’ll be a surprise cause I have no idea where this is going. No worries, though, I’m still planning on finishing it. Expect a new chapter later this month. I might as well make this series it’s own calendar.

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#might guy #might guy x reader #might guy relationship #Maito Gai #maito gai x reader #maito guy #Maito guy relationship #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto imagine #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #x you #x reader #reader insert

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offspring-of-calliope · 4 years

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Oneshot #2: Three times someone checked out Darcy’s ass and the one time he didn’t mind it

Description: A crackfic based on this post I made a few days ago. Basically what it says in the title and it plays during the canon era. The main pairing is BillDarcy.

words: 1645

A/N: To be honest, I don’t even know what this is, I just suddenly had this idea yesterday when I originally wanted to write the little idea for a Jojo/Elmer-Oneshot I have in my head. But hey, if there are things I’m good at, it’s procrastinating and doing things wrong, so here we are. As always, it’s possible that there are mistakes regarding grammar and spelling (I checked for them but since English isn’t my first language I might have forgotten something). It would be nice if you left a comment.

I hope you enjoy,

Sincerely, me,

Lélodie

—–

Darcy hated puberty. Pimples were scattered all over his face and a few days ago, his mother had helped him trying to figure out how to shave his face without cutting himself. Still, there were some leftovers of an incision on one of his cheeks.

The worst thing was that he hadn’t even had something that he could have called a ‘beard’. But he had overheard some of his classmates talking about the positive effect of having a beard – looking more mature and therefore having a better chance with the ladies they wanted to court. Darcy himself didn’t want to court a lady, yet he always wanted to look more mature so that his father might stop treating him a like little child. So, after a lot of insistence on his part, his mother had helped him with the soft hairs over his upper lip and on the sides of his face and he regretted it.

He was attending some important event, where all the influential persons in the world of newspapers were gathered. And he was there with a bright red face, full of signs of imperfections.

“Look at that fancy new suit! Darcy, puberty’s starting to grow on you.”

Startled, Darcy turned around and was promptly hugged by one of his best childhood friends, Katherine Pulitzer. “Kathy, I’m glad you could make it,” he said, quickly hugging her back.

Katherine freed herself from the embrace. “I couldn’t leave you guys alone with all these people now, could I? But back to what I said, when did your ass get this gorgeous? Or is it just the suit?”

Darcy choked on his own spit. He was always surprised by Katherine’s bluntness. A blush spread out over his whole face as he truly realised what she had said and he made an embarrassed sound. “My ass is the same as always, thank you very much. The only thing that’s changing is the constellations of pimples on my face.” He grimaced.

“Uh, how poetic. Maybe you want to write my next article, then I’ll have a lot more free time.”

“Kathy, I’m having a serious problem here.” Darcy threw a glance at the people surrounding them, making sure they were out of earshot. Then, he whispered, “How can I face Bill when my face looks like I’ve been burned by the sun, over and over again?”

Katherine was the only one who knew of his infatuation with Bill – his other childhood friend. She had also been the one who had helped him overcoming his long phase of self-hatred because he was falling in love with another boy. At first, there had been all these thoughts like: “It’s wrong. Two boys can’t love each other.” But when Katherine had told him that she as well did like people the same gender as hers, he had felt a lot better. He wasn’t the only one. He wasn’t hurting anyone. So why should he be ashamed of who he loved?

“Don’t worry, Darce. I think it looks cute. And if he doesn’t like it, you can always show him your ass.” Katherine winked.

Again, Darcy blushed. “What’s it with you and my… butt?”

Katherine just shrugged inscrutably and led him to the buffet.

When they met Bill, he didn’t mention the pimples. He also didn’t mention that Darcy’s suit was apparently too tight around his ass. He had only brought life to the butterflies in Darcy’s stomach when he had constantly readjusted Darcy’s glasses and therefore brushed his skin from time to time.

II.

A soft breeze was caressing Darcy’s hair as he and Katherine wandered along the streets of New York, arm in arm. Katherine was going on about some vaudeville show she had to review that night, until they came across the Newsboys’ lodging house. A smile appeared on her face as they watched some kids dancing around, presumably on their way to the circulation gate. Darcy knew how she admired these kids that had nothing and still seemed to be so happy to at least have each other.

Since the kids weren’t walking really fast, Katherine and Darcy caught up with them and Darcy rolled his eyes as one of the boys started flirting with Katherine. It was always like this. Katherine was a beautiful girl and therefore, she caught the attention of many boys on the street. But only some of them mustered up the courage to actually speak to her.

Trying to suppress a sigh, Darcy let his gaze wander and couldn’t help but notice some boys passing them while the presumable leader flirted with Katherine. He blinked. Had he just imagined it or were two of the boys checking him out? He lowered his head, not daring to look back at them and not really listening to Katherine’s conversation.

He took a deep breath, fiddled with his hands and eventually glanced back at the two boys he had noticed. He nearly let out a surprised gasp as he caught one of the boys checking out his ass once again. A blush crept up his neck. The boy noticed him looking back and winked.

Darcy had never been more glad of Katherine taking control than in this moment. Oblivious to Darcy’s own problem, she grabbed his arm tighter and led him away from the newsies.

He took another deep breath. Had the boy been flirting with him? Darcy couldn’t handle people flirting with him. The only exception was Bill but that didn’t really count, considering that Bill was his lover. Which Darcy still couldn’t quite believe. He and Bill were a thing. Bill had been the one to take the first step, turning a little moment of them cuddling into a sweet, intoxicating kiss.

Darcy smiled and it didn’t take long for him to forget the incident with the newsies.

III.

Apparently, people did have a thing for his butt. That was the conclusion Darcy came to when he was ready cleaning the printing press and went to put on his coat. Bill had already left the cellar, presumably talking with Katherine and Jack outside.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but he couldn’t help but hear two voices, a few feet away, seemingly not noticing his presence.

“… yeah, but one of 'em definitely had a stick up his ass.” The heavy Brooklyn accent in this voice was obvious and Darcy suspected that the boy talking was that Spot Conlon that every single newsie seemed to either fear or respect.

“Obviously. He’s refused ta shake Jack’s hand when he’d spit on it,” the other person laughed. It was also a boy but Darcy couldn’t quite place who the voice belonged to.

Was he talking about Darcy? It would make sense, considering that Spot had talked about two people specifically and he and Bill were the odd ones out (Katherine didn’t count since she had already been involved in the strike before they had been printing the banner tonight). Suddenly, Darcy felt offended. Just because he had manners didn’t mean that he was uptight.

“But you have to admit, it’s a pretty nice ass,” the person whose voice Darcy didn’t recognize answered.

It took Darcy all strength he could muster up not to cough and make his presence known. That would be even weirder than only hearing people talk about his ass. He hurried with putting on his coat, while contemplating listening a little more. Of course he was embarrassed but he kind of wanted to know what else the boys had to say.

“You’s right, Race.” A pause. “But do ya know who also has a great ass?”

Alright, that was Darcy’s cue to leave.

+ IV.

“I can’t believe you!” Darcy exclaimed while Bill only laughed more and more. He sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you, I knew it.”

“I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you, Darce, but that’s just too funny,” Bill said, letting his fingers run over Darcy’s arm, yet not even trying to suppress his laughter. “Why did I never notice that your butt is apparently so interesting?”

“I hate you,” Darcy retorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest, all the while trying to come up with a convincing pout.

Bill stopped laughing at that but the smirk didn’t leave his face. “No, you don’t.” His voice was soft and he moved closer to his lover. “Do you want to know what makes you the most handsome in my opinion?”

Darcy threw him a sceptical glance and let his arms fall to his side again. “What is it?”

“Your nose.”

“My nose?” Darcy let out a small laugh. “Seriously?”

“Well, it is,” Bill replied and shoved him lightly. “Especially when you’re wearing your glasses.” He raised his hand and started to trace the rim of Darcy’s glasses, gently, as if he was afraid of breaking them. Darcy’s breath hitched. “Shoving your smartness in everyone’s faces.”

“Glasses don’t make people smart.” Darcy remembered the time he thought that he would seem more mature when he acted as if he indeed had a real beard. In retrospect, he nearly laughed at that.

“But they make people look smart. And smart people are very, very attractive.” To prove his former point, Bill planted a short kiss on Darcy’s nose.

Darcy smiled. Then he leaned back a bit and took off his glasses. “But what happens when I stop wearing my glasses and don’t look smart any more?” He teased.

Bill made a face like he was thinking about something real intensely. Eventually, he embraced Darcy and smirked. “Then you still got your ass to show off,” he whispered, letting his hands wander lower and lower over Darcy’s back.

For once, Darcy didn’t mind someone paying attention to his butt.

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imaginexmeintheuniverse · 7 years

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Softie

Prompt: “The urge to interrupt him before he had finished was overwhelming”

Pairing: Warren x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A few bad words...

Word Count: 2, 795

Summary: The reader thinks Warren hates her but he's really just trying to protect her because he caught the feels.

Tagged amazing beings: @emmcfrxst @iamplaguedwithideas

Masterlist

A/N: I used this lovely website that generated a random first line writing prompt and decided to give it a go. Definitely not my best work, but I really liked the idea I just had no clue how to end it so this not-so-hot mess happened. I had trouble finding a title but everyone knows that Warren is the #1 Soft Boy ™. I was maybe thinking of writing a mini part 2 as a sort of bonus epilogue thing. Hope you like it sweets!

The urge to interrupt him before he had finished was overwhelming.

Warren Worthington III is the most infuriating person you have ever known. Since the day you started at Xavier's and even now when you've just become an official member of the X-Men, he's never given you a break. From the start you were always kind to him, but he always maintained a stoic presence when you were in the room. It was a rare occasion when you would actually have a civilized conversation with him or when he wasn't constantly on your case, especially around the squad. During training he'd be harder on you than anyone else, and then afterwards he'd just ignore you like he didn't just spend two hours nagging you about your form and technique, or relentlessly knocking you to the ground. At some point you started sassing him back until it became a regular repartee, which usually ends with one of you storming off. You simply do not understand him.

But you. No one could get a rise out of Warren like you. Everything you do seems to elicit strong emotions that are entirely foreign to him and that terrifies him. He is aware that he is rude to you most of the time, but it's the only way he knows how to cover up the fact that you make him confused about everything. He doesn't comprehend how anyone could get him so worked up and yet you didn't even know it. He gets agitated just thinking about how oblivious you are to the effect you have on him.

So here he is arguing with the team about how you're not ready for your first mission, even though you're already suited up and on the jet that's about to take off. It is taking up every bit of your willpower not to snap at him.

"This mission is too risky! She's going to bring the whole team down!"

Jean comes to your defence, "It's not your decision Warren!"

"Look at her!" he retaliates, motioning to you. "She's nervous as hell- She's not ready for this."

Scott approaches a seething Warren in an attempt to work him down. "Hey man, calm down. We were all nervous on our first mission." Warren's wings puff up in response as he carries on arguing.

As the bickering continues, you look desperately to the one person who hasn't inserted themselves into the conversation yet. Your best friend can read you like a book; one look at your face and she knows exactly what you're thinking. Ororo knows that the fighting and Warren's constant badgering is what's making you the most nervous.

Thankfully, she somehow manages to silence the room. "She's trained just as hard as the rest of us. Yes, this is a big one for her first mission, but if she says she's ready, she is ready."

Everyone watches you quietly as they wait for your answer. You scan over everyone's faces. Everyone is giving you a reassuring smile or a curt nod of approval, except Warren. He stares at you intently with an unreadable expression.

You think about how far you've come; all those times you stayed behind to train some more with Raven, all the patience it took in learning to control your mutation with Charles' help, and all those extra hours you spent with the team going over different tactics and reviewing past missions. You know you're ready for this. You muster up as much conviction into your voice as you can."I'm ready."

Warren stalks to his seat grumbling something unintelligible. Knowing him, it probably involves a lot of swearing.

"I don't get why he hates me so much," you mutter as you fiddle with your seat buckle. "He doesn't hate you," Jean chimes in with a knowing smile.

"How do you- Oh, right," you chuckle, embarrassed that you momentarily forgot she could read minds.

"It's okay to be nervous on your mission," she reassures you. "And it doesn't take a telepath to see that it's not the mission itself that's got you freaked out."

"It's just that- I don't get what I've ever done to him." You don't doubt Jean's abilities, but you're still sceptical. "He totally hates me- There's just no other logical explanation to the way he acts around me."

"Trust me," Jean says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "He doesn't hate you."

You wake up- well not really. You are conscious but you can't open your eyes or move your muscles just yet. You hear a heart monitor and assume that you're in some sort of infirmary; ideally at Xavier's. You recall the events that led you here.

All in all, your first mission was a success; the team accomplished in containing the threat and catching the bad guys. However, you didn't come out unscathed. The mission was indeed a challenging one, but nothing you weren't prepared for. The team had to go off plan when things took a twist. The initial plan was to spread out individually, but not too far away from each other, to surround the captors and save the hostages. However, two of the men escaped through the back, and since you and Warren were closest to the exit, you had to team up to chase after them.

You tried your best to work as a team, but Warren seemed hell-bent on making sure you didn't do anything, flying past you to get to them first. He ignored your attempts at trying to communicate or come up with a basic plan. He successfully caught the first guy without much effort, but Warren didn't notice when the other one came up from behind him. You had just caught up to him, panting and completely out of breath. You saw the man approaching Warren with gun trained on the head of blonde curls. You knew you didn't have time to stop the man and you knew that alerting Warren would make the man shoot him then and there. So you jumped in front of Warren, hoping at least shield him from the bullet. The man obviously noticed you because you heard the gunshots while you were midair and felt the hot blood pouring all over your chest when your body hit the ground. Here you were, bleeding out on the ground, and all you could think of was how this guy had such good aim or if he was just lucky; bad guys in movies usually don't aim that well. You were hit a few times, thankfully only the first two spilled blood, the rest hit your vest. The first just grazed you neck without hitting any major blood vessels, but the second bullet just happened to have hit right above where your bullet-proof vest ended.

Having heard the gunshot, Warren spun around immediately and knocked the man out cold with one swift swipe of his wing. He picked you up in his arms, not caring that your blood was all over him. Panic settled in when your eyes started fluttering shut."Y/N!"

"Warren- I-I'm sorry," you managed to choke out through the metallic taste of your own blood filling your mouth.

"No- Fuck- Y/N! Y/N!" He tried to get you to keep your eyes open with no avail. The last thing you remember seeing is a silver blur.

"What happened?!" Peter's concerned voice rang through your ears.

"Get her out of here! Now!" Warren growled, placing you into Peter's arms.

"Warren," you mumbled as you slipped out of consciousness.

"Don't worry, you'll get to have one of your screaming matches with him soon enough." Peter's chuckled. You couldn't help but let out a soft painful breath of laughter before completely blacking out.

You didn't think Peter meant as soon as you woke up.

You finally open your eyes to see Warren asleep, his head rests face-down on his folded arms next you on the bed and his butt is close to falling off his chair. You come to the conclusion that it can't be comfortable for anyone to sleep like that.

You weakly move your hand to touch his arm, wincing in pain when the movement sends a shock of pain through your chest. The rest of your body is ridiculously sore and probably sports deep bruises from the shots that hit the vest. The light sounds and shifting around him wakes him up. You see dark rings around his baby blue eyes. This is the closest thing he's had to sleep since you were brought here about day ago. He refused to leave your side. The smile that had grown on his face, seeing that you were finally awake, soon fades as he realizes that your trying to rip off all the wires and IV's that are connected to your body.

"What the hell are you doing?!" You ignore him and try to fight against his arms that keep your hands from doing any more damage. Hank rushes in at the sound of the heart monitor going off.

Hank gently coaxes you into settling back down and explains to you everything that happened while Warren is the corner of the room trying to calm himself down. You bargain with him to at least let you sit up with your legs dangling off the bed so you can shake the stiffness out of them. Once Hank makes sure that you won't do anything stupid, he leaves the room to tell the others that you've woken up. Warren turns back to you fuming, and wastes no time in lecturing you about how careless you were.

"You recklessly rushed in and now you're hurt!"

"I took a bullet for you- I saved your life!"

"I never asked you to!"

"Well, that's what happens in this line of work, Warren!"

"Work?! I thought you were going to die!"

"Why do you even care?"

"Because I care about you okay!"

Hold up. What kind of shit is he trying to pull?

You just don't get him. He can't treat you like you're a burden to the team and then spew that kind of crap. You seethe through your teeth, "I am going to give you exactly five seconds to repeat yourself because I don't think I heard you correctly."

He approaches you and leans in close, placing a hand on either side of your thighs on the edge of the bed. Your breath hitches at the electricity you feel between your bodies even though you aren't touching.

"I. Like. You."

His face hovers mere inches above yours as he looks between both of your Y/E/C eyes to try to get a read on you, but you are at a loss for words. That was the last thing you expected him to say. Not being able to get a read, his confidence slightly falters. He pushes himself back up and breaks eye-contact with you. "And I can't stand the fact that you almost died thinking that I hate you."

Your anger subsides quickly as you process everything he just said. You simply have no idea what to say. Was he playing games? He was just chewing you out and now he's confessing his feelings? At this point you don't even know why your still trying to figure out what goes through that mind of his. Your face contorts with a plethora of different emotions as you try to find the words. You settle on confusion.

"What?"

"When we fight, you narrow your eyes a lot and you ball up your fists to keep yourself from punching me. You bite on the inside of your cheek when you have something to say, but you're too shy to say it." He's currently kicking himself for sounding like a huge cheese ball he would normally want to beat up. "You always look at the ground when you're sad and try not to bother anyone with your problems. When you're happy, your eyes sparkle, you can't keep your feet still, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling too much, even though there's no such thing because it's beautiful. You also bite your lip when you're nervous or concentrated and it drives me fucking insane."

As he's bringing all this up you back track and realize that everything is saying is true. You didn't notice all these little things that he's pointing out. As you file through your memories for these details, you find yourself recalling all the little things he does. How he clenches his jaw when you sass him and his wings puff up slightly no matter how hard he tries to keep them down. You haven't seen him smile often, in fact you think you're hallucinating the few times he does, but it lights up the whole room. You feel yourself melting on the inside, thinking about his baby blue eyes always seem to shine no matter what expression he has. You don't realize that you've subconsciously been biting your lip this whole time.

"And you're doing it now!" He throws his hands up dramatically.

"I honestly can't tell if you're angry with me or not." You giggle at how sensitive he is. You've got him wrapped around your little finger when he hears your adorable laugh. He settles down beside you on the bed. "If you like me, then why are you always so hard on me? Why didn't you want me to go on the mission- or be part of the team for that matter?"

"I don't want you to go on missions because I'm afraid you'll get hurt." You watch how his golden curls bounce from side to side as he shakes his head. "And, well, I couldn't just tell you that I liked you."

"Why not?"

"Because..." You raise an eyebrow at him. His cheeks go bright red as he averts his gaze to where your feet dangle close to his. You never thought you'd see the day where Warren Worthington III would get the least bit flustered, let alone be the cause of it. "Because I'm not good at dealing with all this feeling shit, okay. I'm sorry, I never meant to be such an asshole."

"You see, I wish you would have told me that sooner." You crane your neck to catch his eyes which is big mistake because there is a literal hole in your chest that feels like it's being poked at and you feel the stitches in your neck pull at the skin. You bite back the pain and smile at him when your eyes meet. "Maybe I kind of like you too."

"What?" He was confused but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"You heard me." You roll your eyes and lean over to nudge him playfully with your shoulder. "Fuck-" How the hell do you keep forgetting that you got shot?

"Careful," he warns, placing a hand on your shoulder to steady you. His hand sends a comforting warmth through your body. "Does it hurt?"

"It's not so bad."

You find yourself lost in his eyes as he does with yours. He starts leaning in, his sweet breath fanning over your face. Your heart races as your focus involuntarily darts to his pink lips for a split second. His hand trails up from your shoulder to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. You let your eyes flutter closed when his thumb gently strokes your cheekbone. Your lips have barely brushed when you're interrupted.

"Get a room!"

Both of you whip your heads, a little too quick for you because you feel pain ripple through your chest, to see the squad standing in the doorway. Jean rolls her eyes at Scott's comment before dragging him away, Peter has already sped away, Jubilee and Kurt are giggling, and Ororo is smirking at the scene before her.

"Let's give them some time alone," she says, ushering Jubilee and Kurt away, but not before shooting you a wink as she closes the door.

Warren awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and chuckles, "I was a huge asshole to you, I'm really sorry about that."

"Well, there are ways to make up for that," you smirk.

"I am so okay with making up for it."

You smile and lean in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. You wince in pain at the sudden movement. "But that will have to wait until these heals," you say, gesturing to your wounds.

"I'm not sure I can wait that long."

"You're going to have to, birdboy."

"You're worth waiting for."

Wow. You never thought he had it all in him and he just keeps getting softer.

"I always knew that deep down inside, you were a softie."

"Shut up."

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington imagine #potatowrites #my writing #xmen #xmen imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #softie

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spine-buster · 7 years

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Samhain in the City - 31 Little Wrestlings Fics Challenge

A/N: Halloween fic challenge based on the genius minds of @thewriterformerlytaggedas and @fan-fiction-galore! Thank you for including me, and I hope you all enjoy!

Please notice that there are some links included within the text to help you better visualize some things.

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@sleeplessandcynical

It was a dark and stormy night…

Well, actually, not really. It was dark, sure, but stormy it was not. Not a drop of rain had fallen from the sky in three days – unusual for Edinburgh, especially in late October. It put everybody in the city in a good mood, just in time for Halloween and the Celtic festival of Samhain, celebrated every year.

Edinburgh was a medieval city at heart. It’s Old Town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was the stuff of wonders. Old buildings, winding streets, secret closes, the historic Grassmarket – it had it all. Tourists clogged sidewalks taking pictures of the old buildings; those who lived in the Old Town often couldn’t believe they were able to live in such historic structures. The Royal Mile, for all it’s ‘find-your-clan!’ shops and tourist buses, provided the Old Town with its link from Edinburgh Castle, perched upon an extinct volcano looking down on the city, to Holyrood Palace, the seat of the British Royal Family in Scotland.

But for Zadie, the posh New Town, also a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was the main attraction. Georgian architecture, streets (mostly) perfectly laid out in a grid, with parks and shops and cafes and anything you could ever want. Princes Street, with its view of the medieval Old Town and its buildings looking as if they were built on top of each other; Rose Street, the charming alley of pubs only known to locals (aka no tourists allowed); St. Andrew’s Square and Charlotte Square, the picture perfect parks to stop and have a picnic or get in some good reading on a sunny afternoon.

There were more neighbourhoods, of course, that Zadie adored: Stockbridge, Marchmont, Morningside in particular. Each had a uniqueness to it that couldn’t really be explained, only felt. Maybe she adored the city due to her background in architecture – also what she was currently getting a Master’s in at the University of Edinburgh. Maybe she adored it because it was unlike any other city she had visited. Maybe she adored it because of the people.

It was most definitely the architecture.

All of this was lost on Adam Cole, the man Zadie had been chatting up at her friend Hamish’s house party. He was cute, she was single, and Hamish knew him from work – best friends with a wrestler, he invited them all over to the house party last night after attending their show. Now, there were at least seven big burly men stuffed into a flat in Marchmont, along with the regular assortment of friends and acquaintances, drinking cheap wine and beer and eating hors d’oeuvres from Tesco.

“I’ve never been here before,” Adam confessed to her as they sat facing each other on the couch, Zadie’s legs tucked underneath her as she held her third glass of white wine.

“You’ve never been to Edinburgh before?”

“Nope.”

“But I thought you traveled around a lot for your job?”

“I do, but it’s mostly throughout America. Sometimes mainland Europe. When we come to the UK, we mostly stay down in England,” he explained. “Edinburgh was always one of those cities that we never got to. Sometimes we’d even plan to take a day trip, but we’d end up being so tired we wouldn’t go.”

Zadie furrowed her eyebrows. “Edinburgh is always worth it, even when you’re tired!” she protested.

Adam giggled. “Well I can see that now,” he said, shifting so nudged closer to Zadie on the couch. “Hey, why do you know so much about all the buildings in this city, anyway?” he asked.

“Oh, well, I mean…I study architecture at the university,” Zadie said.

She watched as Adam visibly gulp. “You’re in university?”

“Oh God, I’m not like, eighteen or anything!” she cleared up, knowing exactly what Adam was trying to get to. “I’m a Master’s student. I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh thank God,” Adam took a sigh of relief. “I can’t be thinking eighteen year olds are cute.”

Zadie arched her eyebrow. “You think I’m cute, then?”

Adam shrugged his shoulders playfully. “Maybe.” He took a sip of beer while still staring directly at her and Zadie could feel her cheeks blush at his intense stare. His eyes were the perfect shade of blue and her consumption of wine wasn’t helping her cease her thoughts.

“Why do you guys call Halloween Sam…Samh…Samson or whatever?” Adam’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

She snorted. “You mean Samhain [[sah-win]]?”

“Yeah. What’s the deal with that?”

“It’s based on an ancient Galic festival. Tonight marks the end of the harvest and the beginning of the dark half of the year,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “Fuck Halloween. We have a fire festival.”

“A fire festival?!” Adam asked. Zadie nodded her head. Adam leaned forward to whisper something in her ear; she could feel the goosebumps forming on her skin and a shiver run up her spine. “What the fuck are we still doing in this apartment? Let’s get out of here.”

It was a festival unlike anything Adam had ever seen before…

They had left the party pretty easily. Adam counted only two pairs of eyes on them as Zadie slipped on her shoes at the front door, and Zadie was too excited, naming all the places she’d show him, to notice any eyes. ‘We’re in Marchmont, which means we’ve gotta walk north’ she told him, as if that meant anything to him. He just smiled and slipped his hand over hers, telling her to lead the way. He was pretty sure he saw her swoon.

Zadie wasn’t kidding when she said it was a fire festival. Some people had literal torches and were marching through the streets of Old Town, and there were many other fire sculptures on display; performers were doing tricks and busking at every corner, again, all dealing with fire; and everyone was singing songs in Galic and strong Scottish accents. Adam was overwhelmed with everything that was happening around him, but he was having fun nonetheless. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face the second he saw Zadie’s smile light up the night, too.

As she brought him right into the middle of the crowd, he grabbed at her hand so either of them wouldn’t get separated from each other. That, and for Adam’s own safety. Everyone was having a lot of fun, but the whole sight of people carrying torches and playing with fire and chanting things in an ancient and foreign language was…creepy, to say the least. “Uhh…is this the point where you hypnotize me, lead me to my untimely death, and everyone here sacrifices my body to the gods like some sort of lamb?”

Zadie let out an animated laugh at his question, moving towards a small pocket of less crowded space where they could breathe a little bit. “Maybe. If you’re good, we’ll find someone else to sacrifice. Your good looks and hot body would make the gods very happy,” she joked. Adam appreciated her humour in this situation, but he was pretty positive if they were in the medieval period, or whenever this festival started, he definitely would have been the sacrificial lamb. “Despite that, are you enjoying yourself so far?”

“Of course. Better this than some house party in Marchfield, right?” he winked. “Marchmont,” she corrected him, giggling slightly. “And yes. Way better than some house party in Marchmont. Even though some of the buskers are freaking me out.”

“Seriously?” For someone who was so excited to show him the festival, he couldn’t believe that the buskers, of all things, would freak her out. Not the chanting, or the fire…the buskers.

“Just the ones with those creepy masks,” she admitted. “I’ve always hated them…I’ve watched too many horror movies.”

“If they’re freaking you out, we don’t need to be here,” Adam said. “I can lie and tell everyone we stayed, but we can go somewhere else if that’s what you want to do.”

Zadie appreciated his offer. Other people would have probably ridiculed her for being freaked out by something so juvenile. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. “Come with me,” she said, grabbing at his hand and dragging him out of the crowd.

Adam followed her without hesitation, but when he realized they were walking farther and farther away from the crowd he became sceptical. He thought she would maybe take him to a pub, not…wherever they were going. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“It’s time for your sacrifice,” Zadie deadpanned.

It was Adam’s turn to snort. “Seriously. Where are we going? I’m a foreign man in a foreign city and you’re taking me somewhere at night all alone!”

Zadie raised her eyebrow at him. “Foreign man? Foreign city? We speak the same language, you numpty.”

“Clearly we don’t, because I have no clue what a numpty is.”

“You’re going to find out by the end of the night, Adam Cole,” Zadie smiled coyly.

As they continued to walk up the Royal Mile and down George IV Bridge, Zadie led Adam through gate adorned with ‘Greyfriar’s’ at the top. Adam knew that everything about this part of the city was going to be old – super old, to his American standards – but this place was even older than he was expecting. It was as if nothing had changed for centuries. When he saw a tombstone, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Seriously…where are we?” he asked, looking around.

“This is Greyfriar’s Kirk,” Zadie said. Again, as if that meant anything to him. “This is the most haunted place in all of Edinburgh…save for maybe the vaults.”

Adam gulped. “Haunted?”

“Mhmm,” Zadie grinned. “So the church was built in the 1600s, and about 1200 Scottish Covenanters were imprisoned here. You have to keep to the paths because if you walk on the grass, there’s a good chance you’ll step on someone’s remains peeking through the eroded soil. Tom Riddle – you know, like Lord Voldemort – he’s here too. J.K Rowling used to write in a café down the street and she got her inspiration for his name from a gravestone here.”

Adam looked around. The place gave him the creeps. He didn’t doubt that everything Zadie was telling him was 100% true – that just made it creepier to him. You could step on someone’s remains just by veering off the path? No-fucking-thank you. “Yeah, cool. Can we go now?”

Zadie smiled. “Don’t you Americans love your graveyards and haunted things on Halloween?”

“Sure, but that’s like…fake stuff. That’s volunteers from your town dressing up and scaring you at the local rec centre turned haunted house. Not…stepping on some prisoner’s bones in a medieval graveyard,” Adam explained, shivering. Zadie grabbed at his hand. “Okay…next place I take you won’t be haunted. Deal?”

Adam smiled down at her, already dragging her out. “Deal.”

It was an adventure of a lifetime…

Cities at night were a journey all on their own. A city at night was completely different from its daytime identity. Adam was learning that Edinburgh had it’s own night time magic that came extremely close to surpassing its daytime beauty.

Much like New York City, Edinburgh seemed to never sleep. Zadie had taken him walking down The Mound and into the New Town, running into some rowdy teenagers drinking along the gates of the Scottish National Gallery. They held hands as they walked along Princes Street, on the park side, so Adam could get a good view of Edinburgh Castle perched on its ancient volcanic rock. He would lean down and kiss Zadie every time she told him wherever they were standing would make a great picture. After she got the hint, she’d make the comment every ten steps.

They weren’t just kissing though – there was actual talking involved. About his job, about her studying, about their passions. How she didn’t always used to live in Edinburgh but moved here for good when she started university; how her parents still lived in the same little house in some town called Pebbles – Pobbles? Peebles? Peebles. – in the Scottish Borders. How she had an older sister who recently got engaged. How nothing ever happened in her town, which is why she needed to leave.

“Where did it all begin for you, then?” Adam asked as they sat on a curb in Charlotte Square, overlooking the classic Georgian townhouses that gave this area of the city it’s distinct character. “Like…this love, this infatuation with architecture. Where did it all start?”

Zadie smiled shyly. “Right here,” she whispered, nodding her head towards the townhouses. “Charlotte Square.”

“These ones specifically?”

She nodded her head. “My school had a field trip to go see Bute House, which is the official residence of the Scottish First Minister…anyway, as we got off the bus, we walked along here and I just…fell in love,” she explained. “They looked so fucking regal…like something out of a fairy tale, or like, where a princess would live if she wanted to escape from her castle incognito. So I asked my teacher who built them, and she told me, and then I said, ‘I wish I could have built them’. And then my teacher said, ‘Well, Zadie, maybe one day you will’.” It was at this point she looked over to Adam to see him smiling. “And ever since that day, I’ve been hell-bent on building these things.”

It was the most endearing story Adam had ever heard. “Thank God for that teacher,” he commented.

“What about you? Where did it all begin for you with wrestling?”

Adam hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “With a house, too, actually.”

Zadie nudged him, thinking he was making fun of her. “You’re just saying that,” she accused as he grabbed at her hand.

“I’m not, I swear,” he told her. “My parents divorced when I was ten and my brother, my mom, and I moved back into my grandma’s house. My karate instructor lent me a VHS of the latest Wrestlemania and when my mom wasn’t around, my grandma let me watch it. I was hooked. I told my grandma that I wanted to become a wrestler and she told me I could do whatever I set my mind to. She’d let me practice on my brother when my mom was at work.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Zadie swooned. “How bad did you beat up your brother though?”

Adam laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. There were never any bruises cause that meant my mom would find out. We got away with a lot around grandma, let’s just put it that way.”

There was a comfortable silence between them, Zadie enjoying the feeling of Adam’s thumb rubbing the back of her hand. After he had taken his eyes off of her, they settled back on to the townhouses. Of course they were beautiful to the naked eye, but he wanted to try and see them as Zadie saw them; as magical, as ethereal structures that had so much life, so much history.

They were silent for so long he thought she might have fallen asleep, but when she raised her head off his shoulder to look at him, he smiled at her. He leaned in and kissed her quickly, and just as he was about to say something, his stomach growled loudly, embarrassing him. Zadie laughed at the noise, but truth be told she was expecting it. They had only snacked at the house party and hadn’t had anything to eat since. She pushed herself up on her feet and held her hand out to Adam for him to grab on to. He did and almost pulled her down with him, but she had enough leverage and Adam had the decency to not put too much of the strain on her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. She looked up at him with a smile. “You want to get some lamb kebab?” she asked.

At her suggestion, Adam side-eyed her hard. She started to giggle uncontrollably at the look on his face. She thought she was so funny. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

She pursed her lips playfully. “I don’t have to, you already told me you thought so.” He leaned down to kiss her again, unable to resist. “There’s one more place I want to show you,” she whispered. “You up for it?”

“Let’s go,” he smiled, allowing her to pull him in whatever direction she wanted.

“Okay, to be completely honest, I wasn’t ready for physical activity.”

“It’s not that much.”

“It’s enough.”

“You’re a wrestler! Aren’t you like, fit? Isn’t that your job?”

“I have a whole damn lamb kebab in my stomach, woman!”

“Okay, honestly, you would have definitely been the sacrifice to the gods.”

“Are we there yet?”

“Shush!” Zadie exclaimed, trying not to giggle. “It’ll be one hundred and fifty percent worth it, trust me.”

“At least I’m working off that lamb kebab.”

Zadie tried not to roll her eyes at Adam’s complaints. He grunted the entire way up and she was this close to trying to shut him up by kissing him the rest of the way up. But that was dangerous, and she wanted him to work for the view he’d inevitably see.

When they finally got to the top, she looked behind her. Adam’s eyes were wide as he looked at the giant field and ancient monuments in front of him covered in a very thin layer of fog.

“You bring me up Carleton Hill –”

“– Calton Hill –”

“— you bring me up Calton Hill, you beefed me up with lamb kebab, it’s fucking foggy…you really are sacrificing me, aren’t you?”

“It took you only a few hours to realize,” Zadie winked. “I’m serious, Adam. I know it looks like a giant foggy field with some old monuments right now, but it’s just the dew.”

“It’s not just the dew.”

“Okay, whatever. Just follow me,” she pulled at his hand for the umpteenth time that night. “And please…whatever you do, don’t look behind you. At least not just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I want you to get the full effect in the perfect spot. Also because you might fall in love with the city like I did if you’re not careful.”

Adam smiled for the first time since they had started the climb. “Okay. I trust you.”

She led him a bit farther up, made a few turns, and held Adam close. To his credit, Adam hadn’t said a word and had even closed his eyes when she had asked him, for maximum effect.

“Are you ready?” she asked as she stood beside him, holding his hand and watching him to make sure his eyes were still closed.

“I’m ready,” Adam nodded his head.

“Okay. Open.”

Adam opened his eyes at her command and saw the city of Edinburgh in all it’s glory, in the dead of night, lit up in the most beautiful way. So medieval, yet so modern. So small, yet so large. So vast, yet so local.

He understood now why Zadie was so in love with the city. He understood now why Zadie wanted to be in the city, study the city, live her life in the city. He understood why she was so keen on showing other people the magic of the city.

He understood it all now.

He felt her squeeze his hand excitedly. She had been watching his reaction the entire time. “Have you fallen in love?” Zadie asked.

He looked down at her. “I think I have.”

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