#one magical little flat circle time skip later and...

[whyeverr]

New Promise Community Space

Featuring beautifully hand-lettered chalkboard signs with messages like, "Take one, make one, or trade many," "Fresh fall produce available for barter or support," "Looking for someone? Leave a note," and "Use what you need, leave what you don't."

[muscatmusic18]

what you gave me (1/1)

Fandom: Fate: The Winx Saga

Pairing: Farah and Aisha

Aisha feels as though she's falling behind her peers. Farah goes out of her way to show her the power she possesses. 

Read it here on AO3, or below.

~

A loving thank you to my girl @alexusonfire for always making me feel like the best writer in the world ❤️

On her way back to her office from lunch, Farah looked over her recently completed file of paperwork, triple checking that everything was in order. Budget forms were her least favorite, there were too many places to make mistakes, too many people to get upset with them, and she always found herself pouring over them for much longer than any other paperwork that crossed her desk.

She reached the entrance of her office, opening the door while making one last check to the numbers proposed for next year’s operational cost. “Aisha, will you file—”

There was a squeak and the sound of splashing water, and Farah looked up in surprise to see a stunned Aisha, hands still raised over a copper bowl as she stared at the now soaked desk in front of her, obviously having lost her concentration at Farah’s sudden appearance.

“Headmistress, I’m— I didn’t— I’m so sorry, I—” Aisha stuttered. She grabbed at the files on the desk, realizing they were all soaked, and bent her head, looking as though she was trying to curl up and disappear.

Farah waved her hand, the water disappearing and leaving the files as good as new. Aisha tried to look busy, straightening the stacks and avoiding Farah’s eye as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have— there was ten minutes until you’d return, and I’d finished everything, so I thought I’d practice— I should have waited until later but—”

“Aisha,” Farah interrupted, though not unkindly. “It’s alright, nothing was damaged.” The girl was still looking anywhere but her, so Farah continued. “I respect those who work hard and make the most of their time.”

Aisha huffed. “It’s not really hard work if I’m not making any progress,” she muttered, mostly to herself, but Farah heard, and furrowed her brows in concern.

“Hard work isn’t measured by the amount of success. Besides, you’re doing well in class.”

Aisha finally looked up at her, looking surprised that Farah had heard and remarked on her comment. “I—” she sighed and looked back down, toying with the corner of a file. “I don’t feel like I am. I feel like I’m falling behind. It’s getting easier for everyone to control their magic, but I feel like I have to work just as hard as the first day.”

Farah let out a small sigh, biting the inside of her cheek. She’d had students like Aisha before, and her heart always ached for them, wishing she could show them the power they possessed that they couldn’t see.

Though perhaps…

Mind made up, Farah set the budget file on the bookcase next to her and grabbed her coat from the rack, swinging it over her shoulders. “Come with me.”

Aisha looked up, brow furrowed in confusion. “Ma’am?”

Farah gave her a small smile, and gestured towards the door with a nod of her head. “Come.”

She lagged a moment while Aisha grabbed her jacket, and then she strode out of the office and made her way towards the grounds of Alfea.

Farah could feel Aisha’s confusion and trepidation as they walked across the lawn, and her shocked realization as Farah led them towards the dirt path that curved towards the river.

“Ma’am, why…” Aisha trailed off.

“There’s no better water to practice on then a source of it, yes?” Farah answered, continuing on even as the girl lagged behind a moment before jogging to catch up again.

She led them deeper into the forest, the smell of the pine and the damp earth nearly overwhelming, and Farah relished in its smell and taste as she took a deep breath. They were walking along the river now, but still she went on, aiming for a spot she knew by heart.

Finally they came to a low part of the bank, a spot Farah came to often when she needed solitude. She stepped onto the worn shore, mindful of her heels, and then motioned for Aisha to join her.

She shoved her hands in her coat pockets as Aisha came to stand next to her, looking at her expectantly before following her lead and staring out over the water. They stood there a minute before Aisha glanced over at Farah again, her confusion evident. “What am I supposed to do?”

Farah shrugged, giving the girl a fond smile before looking back out to the water. “Any sort of magic you’d like. The point of this exercise isn’t about the result of the magic, it’s about feeling the magic itself, connecting to it. So do what you’re most comfortable with.”

Aisha took a deep breath and then raised her hands, and Farah watched as a large ball of water rose out of the river, hovering. It grew, and then shrunk, and then lowered back into the water as Aisha gave a small sigh and dropped her hands.

“Miss Dowling, I don’t mean any disrespect when I say this, but my problem isn’t with doing magic, it’s�� it’s the control of it. Big magic, like this, is okay because it’s stable and easy to get my mind around. But when I have to do smaller, more detailed magic, or I have to maintain it for a long time, I just… can’t. Not like the others can.”

Farah looked at Aisha, her heart aching for the girl’s dismay. “I understand why you might feel that way. But right now, I want you to forget about that. Don’t think of this as an attempt to fix your troubles with magic, or push yourself to do magic you struggle with. I want you to do something you’re comfortable with, because I want to focus on the connection you feel with the magic all around you. Let your imagination run wild — do anything you’d like.”

Aisha nodded slowly, then raised her hands again. Again, Farah watched as a large ball of water rose out of the river, this time accompanied by several smaller ones. They rotated around each other a bit, not unlike planets, before one wobbled and dropped back into the river. Aisha sighed again, this time tinged with frustration, and lowered the other orbs back into the water.

“I’m sorry, Miss Dowling, I know you’re trying to help. If I had more time to practice, maybe—”

Farah shook her head. “This isn’t about practice, Aisha,” she said gently. “This is about feeling that connection.”

Farah studied the girl, and a sudden pang of sympathy pulled at her chest. She remembered what it was like, being tested on the spot by her Headmistress, and all the anxiety and doubts that came with it. Not to mention with the embarrassment of the accident in the office, she couldn’t blame Aisha for struggling in front of her.

However, Farah was more stubborn than any student’s struggle.

A few steps away was a large, flat rock that jutted out into the deeper part of the river, and Farah moved towards it, motioning for Aisha to follow. Carefully stepping out of her heels, Farah climbed onto the rock and sat on the edge. She slipped her feet into the water, grateful she’d worn a dress that day, and again motioned for Aisha to join her.

Farah rolled her ankles in slow circles as Aisha pulled off her shoes and socks, marvelling at the way the water slipped by her so smoothly, barely a ripple as it moved past. The hypnosis of the water was broken when Aisha sat down, feet dangling next to hers, and Farah looked over at the girl, smiling.

“You’re a water fairy, so undoubtedly you have a connection to water, especially when you’re surrounded by it, yes?”

Aisha nodded. “It’s why I swim. That connection feels… comforting.”

Farah nodded. “Good. Now, focus on that connection.” She watched as Aisha’s eyes closed, feet slowly swaying in the water. “Feel it. Allow it to grow and surround you.”

She paused a minute, allowing Aisha to relax and find comfort in the river. The girl nodded, and Farah continued softly.

“Now use that connection to channel your magic. Don’t think about what you want the magic to do. Just allow it to flow from the water, into you, and back out again.”

All was still for a moment. And then ripples began to form on the water’s surface, little swirls and eddies bubbling up. They grew in number and strength, beginning to rise out of the river, and then, all at once, the water was dancing. Ribbons of water twirled out of the water, spiraling around each other in intricate, mesmerizing patterns. Waves formed along the top of the river, making little figures that ran, skipped, and jumped around in a playful manner that made Farah grin as she watched.

She looked over at Aisha, pride warming her chest at such a beautiful display of magic. “Open your eyes.”

Aisha did, the shock evident on her face as she saw the magic, her magic. The waves and ribbons wavered a little, a couple dropping back into the river, but Aisha took a breath and they resolidified, resuming their playful dance across the surface.

They watched the water for a while, listening to the gentle sounds of the figures dipping in and out of the river, before Aisha slowly brought them to a stop, then gently lowered them back into the water.

They sat quiet for a moment, Farah looking to see Aisha staring out at the water in awe, and she smiled to herself, knowing the girl was just starting to realize the power and discipline she possessed.

“That spark you feel in your chest, that connection with magic that is amplified through positive emotions — that is where control comes from. It’s not something you can force, but rather a relationship that you must carefully foster and grow. No amount of practice will do you any good if you first don’t find that connection and use it to steady yourself and the magic inside you.”

Aisha was nodding, still staring out at the water, and Farah laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. The girl looked at it in surprise, but Farah continued on. “You have great potential, Aisha. Do not squander yourself in self doubt.”

Aisha slowly looked up to meet her eyes, and nodded slowly. “I won’t, Headmistress.”

Farah smiled at her. “Good,” she said, and lifted her feet from the water. “Solaria would lose a powerful fairy if you did.”

She stood then, Aisha following suit, and Farah had just smoothed the skirt of her dress when suddenly strong arms were wrapped around her in a fierce hug, Aisha’s cheek pressed to her shoulder. “Thank you, Miss Dowling,” she said, voice slightly muffled. “For showing me what I can do.”

Farah smiled to herself, heart swelling in her chest, and she wrapped her arms around Aisha, returning the warm hug. “We all need a little encouragement from time to time.”

Aisha slowly let go after a minute, taking a step back, and Farah looked her over, noting the subtle changes in her posture, her eyes, the line of her mouth — the assurance there that wasn’t present before, and pride warmed Farah’s body, tingling in the tips of her fingers.

Taking a breath, Farah smiled at Aisha, then stepped off of the rock and into her shoes before turning to the girl. “Good work today.”

Aisha beamed at her, sitting to put on her shoes, and Farah watched as her gaze drifted back towards the water, obviously remembering the magic she’d done.

“Come,” Farah said lightly, turning to step up onto the path. “You can come back later. I still have a few things for you to file.”

[smellysluna]

The one where Adrien dances with you

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Adrien Agreste & [YOU]

Warnings/Tags: mostly swearing and PDA but very mild, fluff you’d say?

Summary: you meet Adrien at a gala hosted by the Vanilies in London, you confuse Adrien for Felix but your misunderstanding quickly turns into something else.

Note: I feel like the ending kinda sucks a lot but mblerghh i don’t want to wait to post this, enjoy babes!

Graham de Vanilie Group invites you to a Fundraising Holiday Gala. 7th of May 2020. Six o’clock in the Buckingham Palace. 

The last time the Graham de Vanilie Group hosted a fundraiser was a few years back, right before one of their CEOs passed away. You place the invitation card back in the envelope you received from Félix. You’re startled by the sudden invite and glance at your best friend.

“I suspect that the black envelopes were your choice?”

Félix nearly flinched. After all, he does his best at hiding feelings and intentions; he does fool most people but you always knew him better than the palm of your hand. So when the blond tried to suppress his astonishment, you almost smirked.

“You never fail to surprise me.” His voice is flat and deep but it quivers right at the end.

“You’re way too predictable.”

You place the open envelope onto your desk. When you turn around, you notice Félix’s leg go in an up-and-down motion. He was waiting for an answer, you knew, but he wasn’t going to ask for it. You step up to your walk-in closet and go through the dresses.

“It’s been a long time since I bought a gala dress,” you yell to Félix.

You didn’t hear how he walked into the closet. For whatever that means, you never notice when he sneaks up on you but you’re used to it by now. 

“Do you want to match, for old time’s sake?”

“That’s brilliant, Félix! Are you free this weekend?”

He falls silent for a moment, pursing his lips. “I could create an opening in my schedule on Saturday morning.”

“It’s settled then. Saturday at 9:30 we’ll get some breakfast and then—”

“I said I could, not that I would.” 

You stare at him with the utmost hateful look you could muster. “You fucking asshole.”

Turns out that Félix did clear up some plans to go shopping that weekend. As planned, you had chosen clothing that matched. When the day of the gala came, Félix told you to meet him at the venue because he had some responsibilities as one of the hosts. He had to receive guests and be there for his mother.

You arrive at Buckingham palace with your parents and as soon as you get in, the three of you are greeted by the remaining members of the Vanillies. You and your parents split ways. 

Félix looked as dashing as ever, his suit perfectly matched your long dress. He had his hair slicked back as usual but it seemed that he used a more than necessary quantity of gel. 

“What’s with your hair today, I can see myself in it.” You joked.

“Thank you, your hair isn’t any better,” he replies coldly.

You scoff, “tell that to my hairdresser.”

“I just might.”

“Sure you will, wanker.”

He glares disapprovingly and dismisses you. “Go bother the waiters. Maybe get something to drink while you’re at it. You’re tolerable when drunk.”

You just smile at him and let go of the bickering. “I better get started, then.” You leave Félix tending the rest of the guests.

“Hey,” he calls out, “I’ll find you later.” You nod at him and keep walking, swaying your hips in exaggeration just to annoy him.

The Buckingham’s ballroom wasn’t as spacious like the usual contracted venues by the Vanillie Group. It only seemed fair, though. Most of the guests already there were closer to their inner circle —comfortable enough to invite but just as brave.

The ballroom was clear enough to recognise the people you knew and had to greet for the sake of politeness. If you’re lucky there will be some entertainment. You move toward the clique the teenagers had unconsciously formed with a smile. 

After some boring interactions with the biggest snob —according to you and Félix— known as Vanessa you excuse yourself and ditch the posse to find Félix. You remark at yourself that the room had filled generously within an instant. Now you only wonder in which corner the tolerable snob had secluded himself to. While executing the quest, you straighten your posture out of habit.

The next thing, you see the back of a blond head. The posture and the shoulder build was right… Why was Félix’s hair suddenly not gelled back? You had to find out and on the way to wisdom you wondered whether his mother forced him to get rid of the excessive amount of gel he used. You grab his hand and turn him around. 

Not taking a good glance, you say unladylike —the way you always talk to him—, “what did you do to your hair?” You glance around and play with his hair, wondering how he managed to wash his hair in this place. “You were never planning on looking for me, weren’t you?” You glared at the blond.

You expected Félix’s stoic-stone-cold stare but instead you were met by a stupefied smile. There’s no doubt that it’s the same face but the expressions don’t match. At your approach the blond scratched his neck.

“I think you’ve mistaken me for my cousin,” he smiles and your face widens in shock. It feels like your heart just fell to the core of the Earth.

You let go of his hand and apologize frantically. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice you weren’t Félix.” You cover your face. “This is so embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

Félix’s cousin uncovers your face carefully but instead of looking at him, you keep your gaze on the floor’s carpet.

“Don’t worry —It’s not your fault! Everybody confuses us both.” He keeps silent for a moment. “Hey,” he tries to get you to look at him, “it’s okay —it really is.” Giving into his words, you glance up at him.

His stare and your stare cross. You take him in entirely. Even though he had the same face as someone you knew like the palm of your own hand, he felt like a different person. But he was a different person! Realising this, your heart ached in a way it had never done before. The air hitched at the back of your throat and neither the blond neither you said anything, you were both speechless.

He cleared his throat in what felt like a moment of paradise, the spell broke. 

The music in the ballroom becomes louder. “Would you like to share a dance with me?” He offers an open hand and a bright smile. 

With a twinkle in your eyes, you lay your hand in his. “I’d love to.”

He guided you closer to the musicians at the far end of the ballroom. At the center of the far end, on top of a podium connected to a pair of stairs, were the Queen’s and King’s thrones. Both seats were vacant but you knew that the Queen was somewhere nearby, you greeted her not long ago. 

At the far end walls were another pair of stairs connecting to each side of the wall; on the left was the string orchestra and on the right was the wind orchestra. You found yourself stranded in between.

The blond preserves his grip on your hand and faces you. In response, you put your arms around his shoulders.

You scoff, “even Félix holds me closer.”

At the comparison, the blond in front of you tensed. He pulled you closer out of sheer stubbornness.

Then most certainly, you’re reminded that he’s not Félix. The contact sent shivers down your spine. The feeling of him, so close, ricketed your heart. You were sucked into your own world where there was only him, the music and you. Too dumbfounded to notice anybody else, you begin to dance. Luckily, you had incorporated into a slow waltz. The both of you moved loosely without any missteps. 

An unseen force pulled you into his eyes, your will was to weak to pry you away from staring at him. Not once were you tempted to talk to him, you had everything you needed. His hand on your wait, your arm on his shoulder and a magic connection. 

A few steps later, your heart calmed down and only then you dared to speak. “I’m (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N).” He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

“Name’s Adrien, Adrien Agreste.”

You bite your lip, scolding yourself for ruining your applied lipstick, as you both keep moving rhythmically to the orchestra. “Agreste..? I’ve never heard of you,” the spell your eyes shared had long broken so you move your eyes around the moving ballroom, “or seen you.”

You heard him chuckle and it was so precious you imprinted it to your memory. It was dumb, really, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re Félix’s friend,” he told you as a matter of fact but the short sad smile doesn’t go unnoticed. “I imagine he never said he had a cousin.” You wanted to reply first but nodded instead. 

“Why has he never talked about you?”

Adrien pulled you closer unconsciously but your heart rate spiked in an instant. “The short version of the story is that his mother’s twin is my mother but she married Gabriel Agreste and moved to France with him.”

You let the untold drama to sink in. You imagine what secrets these two families were keeping and you grin to yourself. Juicy rich people drama. 

Before replying to Adrien, you avoid biting your lip as to not ruin the professionally applied make-up. “That explains a little,” you guide Adrien into the pace increased music, “but I’d love to hear the full version.”

In your head, you created Adrien as somebody sweet and always polite, a soft person but when he takes the lead in your waltz… you realize he’s not as soft as you had pegged him for. 

“Maybe later, My Lady.”

The tempo gets stronger and faster and gracefully you keep following the rhythm. The room starts spinning and you only have a focus on the boy with the green eyes. The music is loud and it drums in your ears or maybe it was your heart beating so hard, you weren’t sure. You were having fun, and you keep the flow going without even skipping a beat. Your feet hurt from your heels but you couldn’t even feel the pain. The trumpets sang loud, the violins serenaded violently and your heart drifted ecstatically. The smile on your faces wouldn’t leave and you thought you were tiptoeing through the sky. Quite frankly, dancing with Adrien Agreste felt liberating. 

It wasn’t until the tempo slowed down that you were aware that you had broken a sweat. You recalled the times when you danced with Félix, not even a drop of sweat. He’d always push you to your limits but you kept up with him effortlessly. With Adrien it was different. You weren’t just shuffling your feet, you were dancing! Enjoying it! Feeling it! You had been dancing and not once your mind wandered somewhere else. You were dancing with Adrien Agreste and nothing else mattered. 

Sometime later, after catching the attention of many, you decide to go outside for a rest and cool down. You stopped at the palace’s entrance stairs. The guards on the bottom kept their position still. Nonetheless, you were a sweaty mess, you hoped your make-up hadn’t melted away but you were certain that the lipstick had faded away.

The both of you were engaged in a pleasant conversation and kept smiling at eachother. You were getting to know one another, you asked him about life in Paris, he asked you about life in London.

“I’ve been wondering,” Adrien pauses and looks around, “do you love Félix?" 

You furrow your brows in deep thought. You felt like answering with the truth but you just met him. Nevertheless, you wanted to tell him. So you do. 

To distract yourself from Adrien’s visage, you lean on the stairs’ rail. "I thought I did." 

A moment of silence passed by until Adrien asked what it is that you meant.

"It’s not like I’m confused or anything —I know I like him. It’s just,” you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep it in but it was too late, “there’s this other girl who’s in love with him too. And, honestly, Félix is better off with her.”

Adrien stands up from the stairs indignantly. “You can’t just… give up!” he says, desperately. 

You look at him surprised, for a moment, still not used to the expressive emotions on such a familiar face. 

“It’s not that I’ve given up. It’s that I’m okay with how Félix is. I’m okay with the small amounts of emotions that he shows. I’m okay with his cryptic behaviour. I wouldn’t change any of that —I couldn’t.”

You straighten your dress and stare at anything, just to keep your mind away from the aching in your heart. 

“But Bridgete… she can make a difference in Félix. She makes him a better person, even if it’s a little. She can make him grow and become the one he needs to be." 

You stare into Adrien’s glassy eyes, ready to give your heart the final blow. Adrien stares back at you and his heart churns.

"I’d just bring him down." 

Adrien didn’t realise he was clenching his jaw. He tries to loosen his grip on himself but he just couldn’t.

“I don’t know what to say.” Adrien sighs feeling identified to some extent and sits back down on the stairs. “I mean, I guess I understand you.”

You gaze at the back of Adrien’s head, you notice he relaxes his shoulders after you sit down next to him and it makes you smile slightly. He keeps his gaze on the ground.

“It’s just that I keep trying and trying and I get nowhere. We’ve gotten closer over time, yeah, but I’ve done zero progress.” 

You lean into him to give him some comfort and he places an arm around you in response. It felt so natural to the both of you —it was scary how close you felt. Who knew how intimate a dance could be.

“I feel so hopeless sometimes.” 

You lift your head up from his shoulder and stare into his eyes. His gaze was blankly set on the ground and his eyes were a shade darker outside. It’s funny how only now you notice those little details. Like the reflection of the lampposts’ light shining in his eyes. Like the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fist. Or the way he kept biting harder and harder on his bottom lip…

You can’t recall when Adrien faced you. Nonetheless, Adrien clearly noticed when you kept staring at his lips. He especially noticed your silent ragged breathing and your excessive lip licking…

You started leaning into Adrien. You could feel his hot breath. You were too scared to look into each other’s eyes and before your lips met, Adrien hesitated. The way he had made you feel tonight gave you the courage to just go for it. So you go in to kiss him. You felt confident and hopeful but Adrien stopped you. 

"I’m - I’m sorry. It’s just…” Adrien couldn’t get the right words. “I’m sorry." 

Your heart feels heavy in your chest. That night, you broke your own heart twice. The first time was about your discordance with Félix and the second time… by kissing a guy you just met. How ironic, you fell for the same face twice. 

You stand up abruptly. You really don’t want Adrien to see you red-eyed and puffy. You decide to flee from him and never see him ever again.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. We don’t know each other at all —it’s my fault.” You approach the entrance at the top of the staircase and before you get inside you tell him goodbye without a second glance.

He ponders for a moment. Figuring out what just happened. He thought a few seconds had passed before he ran after you.

“Shit! I’m stupid!”

He wondered how could you be so fast, you wore heels and a long dress. It seems that he had spent more than just a few seconds before he realised that you were his chance to become better. You might’ve not been Félix’s opportunity to become a better man but you sure as hell were Adrien’s. And it only took him one evening (and a few extra minutes) to figure that one out.

He figured you got back into the ballroom and he was right. Just as he was about to apologise to you and tell you how he actually felt after meeting you, he was met with Félix’s hostile glare. You were slouched between his arms and Félix held you tight, so tight he could see veins. Adrien paled in an instant, he darted glances between you and Félix without cease. 

Félix’s jaw was set in a tight knot. His cousin had hurt his best friend and he imagined what had happened. He knew his cousin’s heart was set for Ladybug. He even thought bitterly of her name. Such a boyish and stupid crush. He thought he couldn’t despise his cousin even more but there was Adrien, proving him wrong. 

He could imagine what happened, you always seemed to have a fancy for blonds. Ironically, Félix wondered how you could have fallen for his face but not for him (little did he know). It left a bitter taste on his tongue. While he intently stared at Adrien, he took you away from the ballroom —somewhere only he could get in. And before you left the ballroom altogether, you curiously glanced at where Félix had been looking when he tensed. That was the last time you saw Adrien Agreste in that ballroom.

When the event ended, you locked yourself in your room. Your parents barely noticed your distant behaviour; it happens when they constantly work. 

Sooner than later, the next week arrived and so did Félix. He knocked on your door and let himself in. You were in your pajamas, looking terrible. You haven’t combed your hair since the shower you took on Friday and haven’t brushed your teeth either.

“I have to say, you look worse than I thought you would.”

You glare at him with red and puffy eyes, “I haven’t stopped crying since Thursday, Félix. It’s pathetic… I’m pathetic!”

“Yeah, you are pathetic.”

You rub your eyes. “Yeah, thank you for your support.”

“You better. I’m the one who got you away from there.”

In the beginning you thought that he could brighten your mood but it seemed to be doing quite the contrary. Before he arrived, you managed to calm down and stop crying. Your efforts weren’t paying off because you were at the brink of tearing up again.

“Could you just… not say anything? At all?” You sigh. “I just need you to be here. By my side. Nothing else.”

Félix felt like saying something, actually comforting this time… but the defeated look on your face convinced him otherwise. He lay on your desk your favourite sweets, to which he received a smile from you, and sat down on the end of your bed.

“Fine, just get here,” he looks away, embarrassed, “and cry it out. You won’t be alone this time.”

You put your head on his lap and purse your lips. “I don’t feel like crying anymore.”

He looks into your eyes and groans, “you fucking wanker.” You just giggle at his pink cheeks.

Sometime later you were forced to go to Paris with Félix. Well, you weren’t really forced. Félix’s mother asked you to come and give support to her and her son. They were going to visit the man that stole her sister. Also because it was the day she had disappeared. 

You thought it wouldn’t do any harm to get out of your house, out of London and spend some time in the city of love. Maybe you’ll find a Parisian to get your mind off of the blond who’s been as of late haunting your dreams.

Turns out it was a bad idea. Paris was covered with Adrien’s face. It didn’t matter where you went: there he was, smiling with that stupid cute face and stupid smile. You thought you had gotten over him these past few weeks but all these pictures of him made you fall for Adrien Agreste all over again. 

You’d remember that intense dance you shared and that conversation in which you felt you could trust Adrien with your whole life. If you stared long enough at his picture, your heart would break too. Being in Paris was nothing like you thought it would be. It was so confusing. The scenery was amazing and beautiful but you barely enjoyed it. These feelings of discomfort and contempt were complicated. Sad you felt your heart being broken one too many times; happy you fell for the same guy all over again. You knew you had to get over him but the signs of the universe wouldn’t let you.

So instead of going back to England with the Vanilies, you decided to spend some time alone in this melancholic city.

It was weirdly filled with pigeons in the capital when you finally met the famous Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

It felt unreal to have Ladybug in front of you, talking in a language you don’t understand. You picked up a couple of words from Félix like idiot and stupid. He likes to mutter your idiocy in French.

"Sorry, I don’t speak French.”

Ladybug’s eyes widen, she doesn’t speak English. Even if you didn’t understand what she was yelling at her partner, she was impressive. Let’s face it, if it came to it, you’d be gay for her. As soon as that embarrassing thought crossed your mind, someone landed behind you. 

“You’re in luck, Ladybug, since it seems I’m fluent in English." 

You didn’t bother to look behind you, you were sure it was Chat Noir. Ladybug seemed to be a more impressive sight than anything, except for… that… that… that damn Agreste! You cursed internally, more worried of your internal battle than the one you were physically involved in. It seemed that Adrien Agreste wasn’t going to leave your mind anytime soon.

In a swing, Ladybug left you alone with Chat Noir, not before giving you a reassuring smile. 

Chat Noir cat walked in front of you, a smug smile adorning his face. When he saw your face, he tripped on his own feet and fell, wide-eyed. 

It was wrong to laugh at him, he could’ve been hurt, but you couldn’t help it. A hero trying to show off but failing? That’s hilarious. 

You dismissed Chat Noir’s incredulous look of embarrassment at a failed athletics check. In reality, he was freaking out. Even still, his heart bubbled at your laughter. It was just like the way you laughed with him in Buckingham Palace, the only difference was you weren’t in his arms. 

Your laughter died down when you noticed he wasn’t standing up. With tears in your eyes, you offer your hand to help him up. "I apologise for laughing, I haven’t had a good laugh in a long time." 

He took your hand in his and didn’t want to let go when he got to his feet. He had to let go. 

"Don’t worry about it.” He knew he was taking too long on following the instructions Ladybug gave him. His baton was ringing, Ladybug was calling. He didn’t pick up even though he knew he should do what’s right for Paris’ safety. Do what’s right for the people —not him. It hurt internally to let you go again. “Look, I have to get back to the battle, so I’m gonna take you somewhere safe. Please, be careful.”

Chat Noir finished the battle as soon as possible, skipped his usual fistbump with Ladybug and got back to you. But when he returned to the spot he left you, you weren’t there anymore. 

His heart sank into his stomach. 

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him why you were here. Why were you even in Paris? By any chance, were you looking for him? He doubted that. Why would you look for him? If anything, he should be looking for you!

The pit in Chat Noir’s stomach grew heavier, his heart beat so loud he hardly heard his own thoughts. What was he even feeling? The only thing that felt right was you. You in his arms, laughing at those possé’d jerks. Shit! He must find you.

The only thing he could think of being of use was Félix. He’d ask for your number and call you and—. No, it would be dumb. Félix wouldn’t even give Adrien your number. Especially not after that look he received in the palace. He could still try… He’d beg for it if he had to.

“Ugh, how do I even ask him?” 

Chat Noir pondered various outcomes —none of them seemed to go well— all the way to his house. In a matter of seconds, Adrien freed himself from the suit and stared at Félix’s contact number.

“What are you doing?” 

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago, Plagg.”

“You don’t seem to be doing anything.”

Plagg caught on his bullshit. Thing is, Adrien was too scared to push the call button. He hasn’t even thought of a proper way of asking your number or even greeting Félix. So lost in thought… 

“I guess you found out, hah?” Félix answered. 

It seems that Plagg accidentally pressed the call button. Adrien was at a loss for words. He still doesn’t know what to tell Félix.

“Hello? Can you even hear me?” Apparently, Adrien took too long to think of something to say.

“I — uh — yeah.”

“‘Yeah’, what? That you found out or that you can hear me?”

“Both.”

“Fine, what do you need?” Félix inquired, clearly annoyed.

“Phone.”

“Phone?”

“Number.”

“Number?”

“Her phone number.”

“Her phone number?”

“Yeah, her phone number.”

“Her phone number.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

Adrien paced even faster around his room.

“Wait! No! I need you to give me her phone number.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I asked.”

“Right. You’re not getting it.”

“Because I like her.”

“You like her.”

“Yeah.”

“You son of a—. You made her cry!”

“I went after her!”

“You were too late!”

“Please.”

The line suddenly died. Félix hung up. Adrien was sure this was the only way so he readied himself to call again but he was interrupted by a message.

Félix

Contact: thy dumbass

Félix

if she comes back more broken than when she left i will kill you

Félix didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to be with Adrien. Yet, he had to give you a chance to be happy and maybe, he’d hope, his cousin fucked up. Maybe you could give him a chance but it seems that he waited way too long.

Now that Adrien had your phone number he didn’t know what to do with it. He could call you… and then what? He could send you a text, explaining himself. Yeah, that seemed right. It was the longest text message he has ever written. He reread it nine times before erasing all of it before he could hit send. 

Maybe he isn’t worthy of you. After all, he should’ve been the one that found you instead of the other way around. He should’ve gone after you.

It was true that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, he couldn’t keep you a secret so he talked to the person he trusts with his life. Ladybug had been understanding, she even talked about her own love life. She had never been willing to talk about it. The team had reached a milestone in trust. Whenever they had doubts, they’d talk to each other and point out things that the other didn’t realise. However, Ladybug had been most successful, she listened to Chat Noir’s suggestions whereas Chat didn’t follow through. Maybe this one time he will.

“I think you need to tell her to meet somewhere. Have some tea or something. Isn’t that what british people do the most?”

“This is so embarrassing, Ladybug. What do I tell her? ‘Hey, let’s meet and have tea!’ That’s so dull.”

“You say exactly that!”

“What? No way.”

“If I were right there I’d take your phone and text her myself. Now don’t be a chicken, I’m getting tired of you weeping.”

Adrien squeaks when he sends that simple message to an empty chat waiting to be filled. 

“Did she answer!?”

“No! I just sent the message! How—Oh, God! She replied!”

“What did she say!?”

“‘Who is this?’ uh.”

“Chat, you idiot! Tell her it’s you!”

“Fuck, I’m scared.”

“Come on!”

“Okay, okay, I said it. She read it — she’s not replying. Wait, wait, she’s typing!” Adrien gripped his phone so tight his knuckles were white. “She said ‘okay’.”

“Go on, then! Tell her when you can meet and where! I’m hanging up now, I’m actually with some friends. Good luck, Chat.”

“Thanks Bugaboo.”

As soon as he hung up he texted you when you were free.

(Y/N): whenever, really, all I’ve been doing is wandering around 

Adrien: do you have time now? I’m free until my fencing class

(Y/N): uh, yeah, where do you want to meet? Don’t make it complicated I don’t know this place much

Adrien: where are you now?

(Y/N): at a cafe by the eiffel tower, but I’d like to rest at the hotel first, my feet hurt

Adrien: Le Grand Paris?

(Y/N): yep

Adrien: I’ll pick you up after my fencing class, should give you enough time to rest

(Y/N): ok

Adrien: looking forward to see you again

The texting ends there. Adrien can’t wait to get to fencing class and get over it. You, on the other hand, pay for your tea and race to the hotel. What did that heart mean..? You were dying to get to your hotel room and take a long hot shower, you were basically crawling up the walls of the elevator. 

A few hours later you get a message from Adrien that he’s on his way. Honestly, you were ready an hour ago, you had never been so nervous to meet someone. You slowly made your way down to the entrance. You were going to make him wait but the moment you step outside you see a car pulling up.

Adrien: I’m here

He steps outside and spots you immediately. Fuck, you looked beautiful. He walked up to you even though he wanted to run and spin you around in his arms and kiss you all over. 

It was awkward seeing one another after everything but when you both caved for a hug. It felt so right. Your hearts pounded. His hair was still slightly wet, probably from the shower he just took. He smelled like citrus too. 

Adrien broke the hug and stared deep in your eyes and before he could stop it, he was leaning in for a kiss. Lips barely touching, he hesitates but you close the gap. It was much better than the hug. His lips were soft and plump. It wasn’t your best kiss but the feelings you got from him were amazing. Together, you could teach him to kiss the way you want to him which means he’s gonna have to practice a lot of kisses with you.

“Sorry it took this long.”

“The wait was worth it.” 

He smiles at you and you kiss again.

[shadowsnlace]

Could you write a scenario for Mayuri please? He's drunk and shows a lot of affection towards his s/o, which of course is unusual. Could this be NSFW? That would be awesome! And congratulation for 400 subs ^^

Sorry this took so long! I really love writing Mayuri. He’s a gold mine of comedic possibilities! And, I haven’t written a scenario for him yet, so no time like the present ;) 

I went a little bit of a different way than Mayuri being drunk. I have the feeling that alcohol has no effect on him. All that modification that he’s done has probably made him immune to the effects. I hope you enjoy!

Oh, Mayuri, why must you hide this handsome face?

“Gotcha”  – Mayuri Kurotsuchi

Mayuri had been deftly avoiding your attempts to dose him with libido boosters. It had become a game for him, one that he enjoyed immensely. One of the reasons Mayuri allowed your continued presence in his personal life was because you were so intelligent. He found you challenging and loved nothing more than thwarting your attempts to slip him a little something special in his food or tea. He’d even had to knock the rust out of his martial arts skills to dodge all manner of darts and other inventive hypodermic delivery systems that you’d created. 

“I can’t believe you poisoned my dessert,” Mayuri shot you a side look as he walked by the bed where you’d draped yourself. “And that pathetic barb hidden in my chopsticks. It was so obvious.” He peeled off his clothes, placing them into a hamper in the corner of the bedroom. He turned around, giving you a full view of him naked. You quirked a brow, said nothing, and boldly scanned all your favorite places on him. “I do believe you’re losing your touch, my dear.”

You pursed your lips to force away a smile, “I guess you’re just vastly more intelligent than I am, darling.”

“Of course I – “ he broke off, trying to read your look. 

The suspicion in his eyes made you want to laugh. The anticipation made you want to squirm, but you remained still, poker face firmly in place. One wrong breath right now would send Mayuri into high alert and your plan would dissolve like a fresh tissue sample in an acid bath. 

“Hmpfh,” the huff was soft, barely audible, as he walked into the bathroom.

That’s it, Mayuri, time for a nice hot shower.

You watched him test the water temperature then get into the shower.

Gotcha!

You sat up on the bed, watching him as the water created streaks of white mingled with slivers of black. Any moment now the libido booster that you’d rigged into the showerhead would kick in and he’d realize it was too late for him. You admired his profile as he tipped his head back to let the spray rain down on his face. The black and white makeup melted away, running down the drain to leave behind Mayuri’s true visage. Ah, so handsome…

He managed to soap up and get about halfway scrubbed when the first effects began to settle into his bloodstream. His head whipped to the side, golden eyes blazed an accusing look your way, “You!” The edge in his tone was so sharp you could have shaved your legs with it.

“You’ve got about 2 minutes, tops, to finish your shower.” The triumph in your voice sounded a lot like smug humor. 

He finished quickly, turned off the water, and barely toweled off. He fussed the whole time. “I can’t believe you poisoned me!” He began marching toward you, naked, eyes sparking with paint-blistering outrage, “It was in the showerhead, wasn’t it?”

You shifted to start peeling off your clothes. “Such a smart man,” you cooed.

“You sneaky, oversexed – ” He stopped in his tracks. His face relaxed, his eyes softened, “ – completely beautiful woman.” He reached out to pull you against him, running his hand up your arm to your neck, “Your skin is so soft, it fascinates me.” He tipped your chin to expose your throat for his lips.

You sighed and leaned into him. He shook his head, fighting the chemicals, “That’s it, you’re in for punishment!  I should – “ his eyes hazed, “lick you until you scream.”

“Well, if you insist.” You sat down on the bed, shifting to give him room to join you, “I completely agree, the punishment must fit the crime.”

Mayuri opened the nightstand drawer. A hidden latch was sprung and he produced a vial that wasn’t familiar to you. “I prepared something new for you, something special.”

Excitement skipped through you, adding a quaver to your voice, “Wh-what does it do?”

He gave you a toothy grin, “You’re about to find out.” He pulled the stopper, tipped the vial, and watched a drop slowly ooze out to drop onto your nipple.

The reaction didn’t take long to go into effect. Pleasant warmth followed by a pulsing sensation made it feel like his mouth was sucking on your sensitive flesh. Your eyes widened as a surprised “Oh!” escaped your lips. A drop to the other nipple and you were soon arching your back, hoping to entice Mayuri to touch, lick, or suck on your pebbled peaks. 

He watched you with a pleased smile on his face, used his one long nail to draw spirals around each nipple, grazing it when you least expected so that you’d suck in a surprised breath. “Are you enjoying my new formula?”

There was a breathy pant in your response, “Oh, yes!”

“I coded this to work only for your DNA,” he leaned over your chest, “that way when I touch you it won’t effect me.” His tongue circled your areola before his lips closed over the erect bud.

The intensity made you squeal sending liquid lightning straight to your core.  He pulled and sucked, licked with the flat of his tongue, setting the rhythm for the pulsing that would continue as he moved on.

You were barely aware of him settling between your legs or his hands guiding your legs up and up until they were folded away, spreading you wide. Mayuri’s magic oil was keeping you focused on those sensations. That’s why it was such a shock when his long tongue plunged into your wet heat, his fingers pulling your lips open to allow him as deep as he could get. 

Your body bucked as a loud gasp stole your words and nearly your breath. Your focus shifted as he began tongue fucking you, spearing that delightful muscle into you again and again, making sure to curl and tease at just the right spot.

You were just starting to build toward an orgasm when he dragged his tongue slowly up, flattening against your whole sex until he dragged it over your clit. A moan began but morphed into a groan as he sucked that little bud between his lips. 

Mayuri knew your body so well, knew exactly what drove you to bliss and just how fast or slow he could get you there. Right now it was going to be fast. He wasn’t relenting or giving you any chance to relax. He meant what he said, you were being thoroughly licked as punishment.

Thoughts were tumbling and scattered. Between the thrumming of your nipples and the pulsing of his tongue and lips you were completely overwhelmed. Your body pulled tighter and tighter, you felt so hot, almost like you couldn’t catch your breath. Then you seemed to go numb for a few seconds before a burst of pleasure washed over you. 

Mayuri’s hands clamped down on your thighs keeping them open, not letting up as your body jerked and your hips lifted into his greedy mouth. Deep moans turned to cries of ecstasy as he kept going until you were spent. 

You were hazy, euphoric, unable to open your eyes as the bursts of colors behind your eyelids started to abate. You felt Mayuri turn you over and lift your hips. He stood next to the bed, impressive erection standing proud and ready. You propped your knees under you and eagerly angled your pussy up for him. 

Mayuri’s thickness pushed into you, stretching you. He sank slowly, enjoying the slide into you. You moaned into the sheets, then groaned “Oh, yes…” as he bottomed out, the head of his cock pressing into that wonderful spot inside.

He stood straight up, gripping your hips as he set a steady pace. The retreats were sweet relief just as the deep thrusts were thrilling pleasure. You settled your cheek against the cool sheets, hands clawing them reflexively as Mayuri rode your g-spot. You rocked back a bit, enjoying the feel of him and knowing that you’d won this prize. Sure, he’d be fussy later, but for now, his attention and focus was all yours.

You were nearing another orgasm. Mayuri’s hand settled on your lower back. He stopped, seated deep inside you, then began pushing hard on you, bouncing you hard and fast on his cock. You sang out with primal joy. It felt so good. And then you were cumming, your inner muscles fluttering and clenching uncontrollably. 

He grunted, but kept going. Once you went a bit limp, he stopped. He leaned over your back, dropped a kiss on your neck, his voice slipping into your ear like soft velvet, “I’m not finished with you yet, sexy.”

Before you could form a reply, Mayuri stood back up. His hands glided down the backs of your arms, stopping at your wrists to wrap his fingers there. He lifted your upper body off the bed, half-standing you up on your knees. 

He pounded hard up into you. Every thrust beat at a spot inside you that shoved uncontrollable sounds from your throat. It was skating near brutal, but the pleasure was blinding. You could barely hear Mayuri growling something that may have been words. Swept away, your body was caught up in the maelstrom of another orgasm. A loud shout from him mingled with a scream from you that made your throat raw. You felt him thumping inside you like the beat of a drum.

Mayuri let go of your wrists and followed you down onto the bed, slipping out of you and landing next to you in a puff of exhaled breath that sounded a lot like contentment. 

You stretched your legs out a bit clumsily since they felt like half-set jello. You caught your breath before cracking open your eyes to look at Mayuri’s handsome profile as he stared up at the ceiling. You reached over to rub the muscles of his chest. “That was amazing.”

He cut you a look, “Of course it was.”

You giggled. Smug bastard. Oh well, after that wild ride, you could let him gloat.

[visionsofus]

im loving your wanda + vision's mixtape series! my song request is "I Know Places" by Taylor Swift! the song works perfectly with those two during the times between civil war and infinity war :)

Anon I'm sure you expected something quite different with this song... but here is what I wrote :) I hope you still enjoy even though its angsty! 

Track #13: I know places by Taylor Swift 

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

Synopsis: Wanda and Vision try to spend a peaceful evening out for dinner in Paris when they are suddenly attacked. To keep each other safe they split up, forced to make the harrowing journey to the next safe house separately. Vision is faced with Wanda's mortality.

Warnings: Angst/ mild whump, blood, guns, reference to a gunshot wound, I mostly skip writing the gore because no

All Wanda had wanted was a peaceful evening. She should have known it wasn’t to be. You didn’t get peace when you were a fugitive.

But they were in Paris, it was their first time in the city of love, and it was impossible to resist the opportunity to spend an evening together at a Parisian restaurant, overlooking the River Seine. They’d put the necessary research in, knew how private the restaurant was and chose the night it was said to be quietest – a Tuesday evening. They were so caught up in being in love with each other and in the hope of having a normal evening, like a normal couple. One of the first lessons Nat had taught Wanda was how easy it was to hide in a crowd, a lesson she shouldn’t have forgotten so quickly. But after two years of hiding on and off with Vision in different cities Wanda had come to associate privacy with safety.

Of course, they was no way they could have predicted that their server would be attending university for international relations and was not only knowledgeable in the Accords, but had aspirations of reaching the United Nations. It was the wrong time and the wrong place, but it always had been for them. Time was never on their side.

The first sign that something was wrong came before they’d even sat down. The restaurant was quieter than they’d anticipated, with only two other couples occupying the interior of the restaurant.

Wanda tried to wait patiently for their nervous waiter to return and shivered slightly at the breeze coming off the river below. They’d chosen the balcony in the hopes that it would put them further out of view of anyone else in the restaurant, but she hadn’t anticipated the cold. In response to her shiver Vision slid closer along the bench, wrapping an arm around her waist and she gratefully pressed herself to his warm side.

“She’s taking too long with the menus,” Wanda murmured quietly reaching out to fiddle restlessly with the napkin in front of her.

“You worry too much,” Vision said pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We took proper precautions.” But he too sounded worried and Wanda was beginning to second guess their whole decision to spend an evening out.

To their relief the young woman returned a moment later with two menus clasped in her grip. They began the motions of ordering food and Wanda started to hope that everything was going well.

She was mid conversation with Vision about their plans for the duration of their trip when she heard a series of car doors slamming down on the side street below them. Vision too went quiet, listening carefully. He rose, walking to the edge of the balcony and peered over, his eyesight far superior to Wanda’s human eyes. At that exact moment their server returned, two drinks in her hands and Wanda couldn’t help it. She reached out into the woman’s head, just enough to see what had happened in the time since they’d arrived. What she saw made her jerk back, fear alight in her heart as she launched herself up from the table and the server scurried back inside.

“Vis,” Wanda said stepping towards him, “we need to run.”

He didn’t get the chance to reply as a series of bullets ricocheted off his chest. Of course, his Vibranium form was impervious to such amateur tactics but Wanda still felt her chest constrict in fear. Her powers rose to the surface immediately and she encased them protectively behind her magic, shielding them from whoever was shooting.

“Perhaps this was a bad idea,” Vision said scanning the area and Wanda could almost hear his thoughts as he ran through possible escape routes. “They’ll have circled the building by now, we’ll have to get out via the roof.”

“Up it is,” Wanda muttered and launched herself towards the roof with her powers, Vision close on her heels.

“How did they find us?” Vision asked as they ran along the roof shingling, or rather she ran, and he flew.

“The server recognised us immediately and reported to the local police,” Wanda called, stumbling a little on the next rooftop as she launched herself across the space between two buildings.

Vision was at her side, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. “We have to get out of the city.”

‘Pyramus Protocol?” Wanda asked, hating using the name of the plan that was their last possible resort.

“I’m afraid so,” Vision replied, and they stopped atop a flat rooftop, far enough away that they surely must have bought some time.  

Wanda sighed, pulling herself to him and hugging him tightly. “It’ll be ok,” she murmured a promise to herself and to the night air around them.

“I’ll see you in two days,” Vision said drawing back just enough to kiss her tenderly.

“Don’t get caught,” Wanda murmured trying to keep her eyes closed a little longer as his thumb brushed along her cheek.

“Stay safe.” His voice was a whisper and when she opened her eyes he had disappeared.

Wanda cursed their frivolity even as she ran over rooftops, launching herself across spaces no regular human would have been able to in the direction of their rented apartment. Pyramus had been a requirement when they decided to keep seeing each other, despite their divided teammates, the havoc wreaked on a German airport and most significantly, the very legal international treaty that now divided them. Anytime they started feeling guilty about the danger they were putting each other in, the Pyramus Protocol was there to fall back on.

They’d designed the plan at the demand of Nat and Steve on one side and Tony on the other. Wanda knew it was the main reason their friends didn’t have more problems with these secret meetings. Vision hadn’t been able to resist naming their escape plan after Pyramus and Thisbe, the star-crossed lovers of Greek mythology whose tragedy had inspired Romeo and Juliet. Wanda didn’t mind, as long as they hadn’t cursed their relationship to end the same way.

Thanks to the Pyramus Protocol they had a safehouse in mind, deep in the mountains in the south of France. In every country they visited, there needed to be an alternate safe house if things went to shit, or it became too dangerous to leave the country. Such as right now. With Wanda’s cover blown the authorities would be keeping keen eyes on borders and airspaces, so the only option was to venture further into the country.

Part of the Pyramus protocol was to split up in the event that only one of their covers was blown and as Vision purposely hadn’t let his human form go public in the US, it was safer for them to be apart. Wanda could only hope that the authorities were only out for her. The secret of his appearance was all that was protecting him from becoming a fugitive like her if she got caught and it was this assurance that silenced Wanda’s guilt enough to keep seeing him.

Wanda was so lost in her head that she almost flew straight past their apartment, managing to slow down just in time to drop onto the small balcony facing the street. She laid a hand to the glass, using her magic to turn the handle from the inside and stepping quietly into the apartment. Vision didn’t often bring anything with him, but Wanda kept all her belongings on hand and couldn’t afford to leave everything behind, lest they find some evidence that could be traced back to her teammates.

The bag was always semi-packed, always sitting at the foot of the bed and within magic’s reach if she had to run, or worse, destroy the evidence.They’d gotten lucky so far. Until tonight.

Wanda knew something was wrong as soon as she stepped into the apartment. A floorboard creaked to her right and she threw her hands over her head as something whistled past her ear, narrowly missing her neck. A tranquiliser.

Wanda jumped into action, grabbing the duffle bag with her magic and launching herself back to the doors, smashing through the glass and up onto the rooftop once more. She heard the shouts of her pursuers and waited until the four men made it out onto the balcony, swearing in French and looking around. When one finally looked up, Wanda reached out to their minds, hating it even as she did. She managed to subdue three of them but the fourth persisted and Wanda fought between keeping the three under and trying to wrangle the last man into submission. All it took was the distraction of sirens nearby and her control waned enough for the fourth man to draw his gun and take several, carefully aimed shots at her. Wanda swore and launched herself back, throwing her power up as she did. But she was not quick enough, and one of the bullets found her shoulder, sending pain ricocheting through her left arm. She fell to her knees on the rooftop huffing in pain, tears burning at her eyes. She’d been faced with guns often during her time with the Avengers but never had a bullet actually hit her. She vaguely recalled that you weren’t supposed to leave it in, but worried about not having anything to staunch the blood flow if she tried to pull it out. If she passed out from blood loss now, she’d never escape.  

Instead, she pulled off her winter coat, removing its woollen belt and using that as a temporary bandage, her blood warm against her fingers as she tried to breathe through the pain. To hide the bloody stains on her top she took a jumper from her duffle bag and tugged it over her head with great difficulty. She heard grunting and a hand reached over the side of the rooftop, sending her scuttling to the shadows as she tried to gather her wits once more. Shouting could be heard below, and Wanda knew this was her last chance to lose her pursuers.

The station was only 20 minutes away by foot, but Wanda made slow progress, sticking to rooftops as often as she could, always on alert for how near the sirens were. She launched herself from rooftop to rooftop with one hand, her other arm too painful to move.

Once she was sure she hadn’t been followed she purchased two north bound tickets using a traceable credit card under her name, and for her real ticket used cash, messing with the ticket officer’s mind to ensure he only recalled her buying the first two. She’d paid extra for a private cabin with a bed for the overnight train ride that was due to have her arriving late afternoon at the Pyrenees mountains.

At the platform Wanda reached into the conductor’s mind as he waited at the door, erasing any memory he had of her boarding the train even as he checked her ticket. She made it to her cabin without further event, shutting the door firmly behind her and pulling the blinds down. She lowered herself carefully to the cramped bed set against one wall, breathing properly for the first time in an hour. She groaned quietly as the pain in her shoulder hit her fully and her adrenaline abruptly ran dry. It took all her strength to stretch out on the uncomfortable bed as the train started to rock, leaving the city. With the knowledge that she had gotten away she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her.

Vision was waiting in a café, a French newspaper propped up in front of him and a steaming coffee in his hand, though he hadn’t drunk any. He was doing his best to act normal even as he listened to a couple near him chattering in French about the international fugitive spotted in Paris the night before. It was all over the various news channels, but so far, no mention of him had appeared. Better yet, the authorities seemed to have no leads on where Wanda had disappeared to.

Vision gasped as his forehead sparked with pain, exactly from where the mind stone usually was when he was in his normal form. He put his hand to his head and rubbed nervously. It was throbbing sharply, and he gritted his teeth as he tried not to draw any attention to himself. Then it was as though the stone was trying to speak to him, images flooded his mind – Wanda lying unconscious on what seemed to be a train, someone opening the door, the cry of sirens as police cars pulled into the train station. It all happened so quickly that Vision thought he might have been imaging things. The stone throbbed persistently, and he knew he could not ignore the warning. He needed to get to the train station immediately.  

Now that he was further south, it had grown colder and though Vision didn’t feel the discomfort of the temperature drop, he was glad to be wearing the thick woollen coat, flipping the collar up and pressing his chin down. He disappeared into the street, just another person avoiding the harsh wind blowing down the main street.  

The station was relatively busy as the train pulled in just on time and Vision found himself darting around people, making his way towards the front of the train where the priority seating was. The row of empty compartments appeared just as they had in his head, and there was the final compartment, its blinds still pulled tightly down.

He glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder and tried the door handle. Once inside he could have sworn his artificial heart stopped for a few moments. He dropped to his knees next to the bed and the woman lying in it. He was eye level with Wanda’s pallid, unconscious face and her eyes flickered weakly beneath eyelids.

“Wanda,” he said voice raw with pain. He reached out to her shoulders hoping he could wake her up. That was when he felt the blood, his hand coming away a dark red as he looked at her shoulder in horror. “You’re alright, you’re alright,” he whispered to himself more than anything as he picked her up carefully, hating how limp she was in his arms.

Throwing caution to the wind he phased right through the side of the train, moving so quickly he only hoped that no one on the platform happened to see him heading straight for the outskirts of town where the safe house was waiting for him. He didn’t care if he was spotted now, it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t help her.

The house was as basic as possible, an empty cabin in a small mountainous town. The last place Vision hoped the authorities would come looking. But it was hard to be concerned about that with the alarming situation presented before him. Wanda was hurt and there was no way he could risk taking her to a doctor or trying to get her to Steve or Natasha. But Vision had always assured her that he would be there no matter what, now was the time to see that promise through.

While the cabin might have been lacking in interior design and scarce of furniture, it was equipped with an extensive first aid kit beneath the kitchen sink which Vision quickly located. He had laid Wanda out on the couch and was startled to see her slowly coming to as he returned.

She tried to sit up, gasping as she looked around frantically at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Vis?” She cried her voice full of desperation.

He appeared at her side instantaneously and she pressed a bloodstained hand to his cheek her lip quivering as she looked him up and down, as though assuring herself that he were real. Despite his concern for her jostling her injury he leant into her as she rested her head on his chest, sitting so that she could hug him with her good arm, and he could hold her.

“It’s okay,” he said kissing her cheek even as tears began to roll down, “you’re going to be okay.”

“I was so scared they’d get you,” Wanda said through her crying and Vision’s heart clenched and he held her tighter.

“It’s okay,” he whispered over and over, giving her the time she needed to calm down.

Her breaths were still coming out in hiccups even after ten minutes of holding her, but Vision couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Now came the difficult part. He pulled back gently, cupping her cheek and she relented to lying back down, wincing as her weight was put into her back and her shoulder.

He prepared the first aid kit, the tweezers to remove the bullet that was still lodged in her shoulder and the needle to stitch the wound back up. Her power must have stopped some of the impact because the bullet thankfully hadn’t gone in too deep. He’d already profiled the area and made sure it wasn’t pressing on any arteries. It would be a painful, if quick procedure.

“Wait,” Wanda said hoarsely when he looked at her for confirmation to begin. “Can I hide in your head?”

“Of course, darling,” Vision said presenting his forehead to her and relishing the feeling of her warm palm on his cheek, and more distantly, the warmer feeling of a consciousness alongside his.

He looked at Wanda for the go ahead and she nodded slowly, closing her glowing eyes as she retreated out of her own mind and into his.

The mental distance helped Wanda as Vision started cleaning her wound up. The pain was a distant foe and though she winced as he withdrew the bullet it was infinitely better wrapped up in the comfort of his mind. He let her filter through the memories of the previous evening, and she was glad to see his escape had been relatively uneventful, he’d travelled west first and then south to the mountain range. Wanda hadn’t gotten a very good look at the space so far, hadn’t taken in anything beyond the simple fact that he was by her side and that she felt safe for the first time in 24 hours. But she looked now, reliving through his eyes as he made his round of the house. It was simple but cosy and reminded Wanda of the time a year ago when they had stayed in the Swiss mountains for a week. They’d spent their time going on long, secluded walks on mountain trails or sitting wrapped up together in front of the fire. It was a week spent taking each other in, catching up on the separate lives they’d been living in the month spent apart, and relishing in the closeness they could have when it was just the two of them. This cabin certainly wasn’t as lush, but Wanda was grateful to feel the warmth behind those memories even as her body cried out with pain in the physical world.

Wanda drew back to herself as the pain began to lessen, the stinging on the surface of her skin sufficiently numbed and the bloodstained belt and bullet discarded.

The rest of the evening was quiet, though neither were able to settled down after such a close call. Vision moved Wanda to the bedroom where she might be more comfortable, and she tried her best to relax as the pain medication slowly kicked in. He helped her eat something, though her appetite was non-existent. Then he waited for her to sleep, her head resting on his arm as they lay together. He ran his hands through her hair, gently teasing tangles apart and doing his best to clean the dried blood away from her neck.  

He left bed once to double check the locks, ensuring that the motion sensor alarms were set for the outside of the remote property, ready to warn them if they were found. But Vision had been monitoring the news all afternoon and the press seemed to believe the trail of the international fugitive had gone cold, much to his relief. He distantly noted that Tony had tried to contact him twice in the last few hours and he silenced the notification, it was a problem for tomorrow.

He heard creaking coming from the bedroom and dashed back in alarm. But it was just Wanda doing her best to stand up against the wooziness from the pain medication and exhaustion.

She reached for him wordlessly, her eyes threatening to spill the tears gathered there and Vision was at her side instantly, cupping her head to his shoulder and slipping a hand under her knees so that he might return her to bed.

“It’s alright,” he whispered as she twisted her fists into his sweater shakily.

“Don’t let me go tonight please,” Wanda whispered as he tried to make her comfortable even as she gritted her teeth past pain, getting as close to him as she possibly could. “You’re the only thing holding me together right now.”

Vision wiped her tears away and kissed her softly. “I’m not going anywhere; I’ll always be here.”

“What if they find us?”

“They won’t,” Vision whispered though he couldn’t possibly say for certain, “and if they do, I won’t let them take you.”

“I’ll never let them take you,” Wanda whispered looking into his eyes as she promised. “Anything but you.”

“It will never come to that,” Vision said with such conviction that tears began spilling down her cheeks again.

They remained intertwined the entire night, Wanda curled into his side, her back to the outside world, her head resting on his shoulder.  Some part of Vision managed to rest, taking solace in the fact they were together and for now, safe. But there was a part of him agonising over what had happened, the part of him that remained conscious over-analysing every creak and crack of the old cabin as winds swirled through the forest outside. The same part of him that desperately dreamt of an alternative, a life where they didn’t have to run and hide anymore. He clung to that hope as they clung to each other throughout the night. Though Wanda had told him he was the only thing holding her together, Vision knew he’d be in pieces if they were ever separated by something more final.

[drawlfoy]

Soft Spot

masterlist request guidelines requests are open!

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

request: yes! there are two of you who requested something very similar, so i’m knocking this one out first to take care of both of you!

summary: you’ve had a crush on draco malfoy for as long as you can remember,...but the funny thing is, you’ve never even spoken to him. he’s mean, he’s spoiled rotten, he’s everything that a hufflepuff could ever want...but you will keep it a secret, right? won’t you? because it’s not like he even knows you exist...

warnings: language and cringiness

a/n: this is gonna kinda be my farewell fic for the summer, something that breaks my heart. i’ll be slowly drafting other requests and i WILL start posting that dramione one once it gets to late fall for the ~aesthetic~. thank you to everyone reading this! you’ve inspired me to keep writing and growing my skills. i love each and every one of you, and i hope you enjoy this last little tidbit of my writing for the summer! but also... i might have a little cringe surprise of a fic i already wrote like 6 years ago saved for later on. this isn’t goodbye, it’s just a see you later!

also... i don’t really know if seekers shake hands at the beginning of the match. i think it’s just the captains but like....let me live and let the plot thrive in a slight harry potter AU where seekers shake hands before games okay

music recs: 1980s horror film II - the wallows

word count: 3,383

tags tags tags! @accio-rogers @geeksareunique

also i literally cannot believe myself i was supposed to write this over a period of a week not 3 hours wtf

“The more concise the flick, the more concentrated your magic will be. No, no, Longbottom, I said concise, not unhinged...try again.”

Y/N watched sympathetically as the Gryffindor struggled to turn the vinegar into wine, Professor Flitwick peering over his shoulder and cringing as the boy flailed about. 

“Poor Neville,” Hannah murmured to her right, her vinegar already having been turned into a deep crimson. “You’d think they’d let up on him by now and just let him do his thing with Herbology.”

“Yeah, but then again, he is abnormally talented at that,” Y/N said, watching the boy carefully. “He probably has the skills. He just needs to tap into them.”

Hannah smiled at her, leaning back into her chair. “Oh, Y/N, always seeing the best in everyone.”

“Oh, stop it. I’m just optimistic.”

“Are you, now?” Hannah leaned forward, wiggling her eyebrows. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think it takes more than just simple optimism to have a crush on--”

“Hannah! Quiet!” Y/N’s cheeks flamed at the suggestion. “You’re talking too loud.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She rolled her eyes, still wearing a mischievous grin. “It’s just so funny to me. Have you ever even talked to Mal--”

“Do not say his name!” Y/N hissed. “And...yes, for your information, I have. Last year he bumped into me. I said ‘sorry’.”

“And?”

Y/N looked puzzled. “What?”

“And what did he say back?”

She blushed even harder, slinking down in her seat. “Okay, okay, he didn’t say anything. He just nodded and kept walking.”

Hannah grunted, looking entirely unimpressed. 

“At least he didn’t say anything mean! That’s an improvement!”

“Y/N, I love you,” Hannah began, “And I think you need to have slightly higher standards.”

“You antagonize me,” Y/N moaned, dramatically throwing herself over her chair. “Let me have a little fun. I know nothing’s going to come out of it. So do you.”

Hannah giggled. “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. And if something did come out of it....” --Y/N laughed at that-- “...I would still love and support you no matter what. Besides, I think Nott is kind of a catch. Think you could set us up once you have your own Slytherin?”

Y/N smacked her arm good-naturedly. “Anything for my Han--”

“Ladies,” Professor Flitwich greeted. “I’m not seeing much magic occurring over here.”

“We’re done, Professor,” Hannah responded, motioning to the two charmed goblets of wine. Y/N simply nodded along, feeling slightly uncomfortable under the eyes of all of the students in the room. It had grown silent, and it seemed as though the Slytherins over in the corner were smugly awaiting a deduction of points from the Hufflepuffs. Draco Malfoy looked entirely uninterested, choosing to absentmindedly levitate a quill instead.

“Very well.” Flitwick nodded briskly. “But I would prefer if you two took your conversation out of my classroom. It seems as though you both have a grasp on this lesson and no longer need to be here...if you so wish.” There was a twinkle in his eye that reminded Y/N why Flitwick was one of her favorite professors.

“Thank you, Professor,” the two said in unison as they began to pack up their things. Flitwick waved his wand, effortlessly changing the wine back into its original form. 

The Slytherins began chattering again, filling the room with its usual ambiance. 

“Malfoy was looking at you,” Hannah hummed into Y/N’s ear.

“No, he wasn’t,” she responded. “I saw him. He was levitating a quill or whatever.”

“Not the whole time. And, oh, the way he was looking at you...total fuck-me eyes.”

“You’re gross, Hannah,” Y/N managed in between laughs. “Was that before or after he stood up on the desk and confessed his unconditional love for Hagrid?”

“During. He always did strike me as a polyamorous guy.”

“Stop!” Y/N burst into a laughing fit, drawing some attention to them as they walked out the door. “You’re bad!”

Hannah chuckled a bit herself, skipping down the corridor. The fall afternoon sun shone through the windows, casting a warm glow on everything inside. Y/N jogged up to meet her, struggling to shove the last of her supplies into the right pockets of her satchel. 

“Slow down, will you?” Y/N called, stopping to catch her breath.

“Damn, Y/L/N, you really expect to be able to seek this weekend? With that lung capacity?” Hannah joked, skipping back to her.

“Says the person who has never played a single match of Quidditch in her life,” Y/N countered, raising an eyebrow. 

“Okay, you got me there.” Hannah raised her arm in a surrender. “I watch you enough, though.Speaking of watching you...”

She sidled up close to Y/N, shoving her playfully. “How does it feel playing your very first game against...Slytherin? With Malfoy as the opposing seeker?”

“Oh, stop it,” Y/N groaned. “It’s nervewracking enough. I saw how he treated Harry in the last game. He plays rough.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. 

Uh, oh. She only ever did that when she was plotting.

“That’s it,” she sang, skipping circles around a confused Y/N. “That’s how you’re gonna find out if he has a soft spot for you!”

“Huh?”

“You just said he plays dirty with Harry,” she explained. “And I’ve seen him mess with Cho too. If he’s nicer to you and doesn’t shove you off your broom...then you know that he likes you!”

“Hannah, I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Y/N admitted, beginning to walk forward again. “First of all, even if he did like me, why would he be willing to be nice to me in front of the entire school? To a half-blood Hufflepuff? He couldn’t, it would ruin his reputation. And second of all, there’s no way he does like me. You said it yourself...he’s never said a word to me.”

Hannah sighed, cracking her knuckles as she looked at the stained glass on the ceiling. “That’s true. But you liked him even before you talked to him. Why do you assume he couldn’t feel the same way?”

“Because he’s a Malfoy, and I’m not his caliber,” Y/N said, her voice flat. 

“And how come you get to decide what his caliber is?”

<>

Hannah’s suggestion rattled around in Y/N’s head. It frustrated her--it really did. She was supposed to be training for her very first match, not daydreaming about how Draco’s hair would look under the setting sun of the pitch. But she couldn’t stop. 

She started paying even more attention to him, if that was possible. She stole looks at him from across the dining hall, watching as he rolled his eyes and laughed at something Pansy Parkinson said. Now that she thought of it, she rarely saw Draco without Pansy...but she couldn’t decipher if that was a mutual decision or if Pansy clung to Draco like Hannah told her she did. 

On Friday night, instead of discussing strategy with the captain, Zacharias Smith, she was watching a particularly interesting scene at the Slytherin table. Pansy was pushed up next to Draco, whispering whatever she was whispering into his ear. He didn’t look thrilled, but he certainly wasn’t pushing her away. Anger boiled in her chest, so much so that she almost didn’t notice the tap on her shoulder. 

“Y/L/N.” 

The firm male voice finally caught her attention as she spun around to see Blaise Zabini looking down at her.

“What?” Her tone was sharp, clipped from what she had just seen over at his table.

“Malfoy wants to talk to you,” he said blankly. “You are the seeker, right?”

“Er...yeah.”

“Come with me then, we don’t have all day.” Blaise grabbed her arm, hauling her up rougher than she would’ve liked. Hannah shot her a shit eating grin which Y/N did not return. 

She was too nervous. Why would Draco want to talk to her? 

Blaise dragged her across the Great Hall as the rest of her house curiously watched. The Slytherin table, hostile as ever, quieted down to a hushed murmur as she neared the group that always surrounded Draco. 

“Here,” Blaise spat, pushing Y/N forward to him. She stared daggers at him in response. No, she was most certainly not in a cheery mood today. 

“I said bring her over, not drag her by her hair,” Draco said, slowly dragging his eyes over her. She flinched in response, not quite knowing what to say. 

“What for?” Her voice was strong, something that surprised her greatly. 

He raised an eyebrow as Pansy scowled in the background. “It’s concerning our match tomorrow. I want to propose a deal.”

“A deal?”

“Yes.” Draco sighed, looking rather irritated that she hadn’t caught on yet. “You agree to not catch the snitch, and I’ll give you something that you want. Galleons, perhaps?” He smirked. 

“No, that’s quite alright,” Y/N responded breezily, instead focusing on quelling the raging blush on her cheeks. The way that Draco looked at her made her feel like he could see into her soul, and she couldn’t tell if she liked it yet. “I’m perfectly content with just playing a fair game.”

“A fair game?” Draco snorted, and the rest of his friends followed suit with canned laughter. “I think you’ve forgotten exactly who you’re playing against, love.”

“If you’re so good, then you shouldn’t have to bribe me,” Y/N shot back before she could hold her tongue.

Wait...what did he just call me?

Draco shrugged, seemingly unbothered, but Pansy sprung to his defense. “Draco, I think you ought to teach this little Hufflepuff to mind her manners around you.”

Y/N, stunned by her realization, simply stared at him, waiting for a response.

“No need, Pansy,” he said, holding eye contact with Y/N. “There’s plenty of time for that tomorrow. You can...er...go now.”

Blaise seized her arm again, but before she could move to yank her arm out of his grip, Draco’s voice broke the silence again. “Zabini, I hardly think that she needs an escort.”

Dazed, she pulled her arm away from him and dashed off. Hannah was waiting back at the Hufflepuff table, her plate long forgotten.

“What was that??” she squealed, nearly bouncing in her seat. Y/N just stared at her.

“He called me love.”

<>

Thankfully, she had long cast aside her thoughts of a particular white-blonde by the next morning. Y/N was so nervous that Hannah nearly had to force down her toast.

“C’mon, you need the energy!” Hannah pleaded. “At least drink some water. I can’t have you passing out on the pitch! Hufflepuff needs you!”

Zacharias, or Arias, as he asked her to call him, was sitting next to her, calmly going over the strategies for the game. 

“You really do need to eat,” he informed her. “I know you feel like you’re gonna vomit, but you’ve just gotta force it down. You’ll thank me later.”

Under his watchful gaze, Y/N began nibbling on her toast, forcing it down.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Anyways, your biggest worry right now isn’t the Beaters...it’s the other seeker. Normally it wouldn’t be like that against, say, Gryffindor, but you’ve seen how Malfoy plays. He isn’t afraid of a few fouls.”

Y/N nodded, the nausea returning.

“But you’re smart, and I chose you for a reason,” Arias said, patting her shoulder. “You’re going to do great. I know it. And our Chasers are great, so even if you can’t catch the Snitch, we’ll be okay.”

She nodded again, leaning into him and blinking hard. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a pair of ice grey eyes trained on her.

<>

“...and I want a clean, fair game today,” Madame Hooch finished. Y/N was ashamed, but she’d spaced out on the entire speech, instead focusing on how nervous she was. 

She was obviously shaking, and she felt even more pathetic standing across from the Slytherin team. They were all buff and tall and scary looking, and she was short and shaking. 

Arias placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Don’t worry, Y/N/N. It’ll all be over before you know it.”

She nodded, swallowing to try and combat her dry mouth. It didn’t work, especially when she saw that Draco was watching her with an amused look on his face. When she caught his eye, he raised an eyebrow quizzically at her and smirked. 

Arse. 

“Seekers, shake hands.” Hooch’s voice cut into her thoughts. Arias prodded her forward, and Y/N complied, stepping closer to Draco. 

He clasped her hand firmly, leaning forward just a fraction. 

“Don’t be so scared,” he stage-whispered. “We’re playing a fair game, remember?” 

At this, his Slytherin teammates chortled in the background as Arias frowned.

“Leave her be, Malfoy,” he hissed, pulling Y/N back to the Hufflepuffs. “I swear, if you lay a hand on her, I’ll...”

“Relax, Smith, I’m not gonna touch your girlfriend,” he drawled. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” 

“Mhm.”

At Hooch’s command, the two captains stepped forward and shook hands, Arias glowering at Malfoy and Malfoy smirked down at him.

The game started before Y/N knew it, and suddenly, her worry slipped away. She was no longer a lowly Hufflepuff--she was a seeker, and a damned good one at that. 

She had watched enough Slytherin matches to know Malfoy’s dirty strategies. He generally relied on faking out the other seeker, which she found a rather cheap tactic. 

Y/N decided to just take a few wide sweeps around the arena, dipping up and down through the air. Draco clearly hadn’t seen anything--he was flying in lazy circles much higher than her, clearly trying to get a higher vantage point of the arena to search for the gold glint in the air. 

Speaking of which...when she flew past the Ravenclaw section, she caught a glimpse of a slight shimmer in the air.

No way. This early in the game?

Y/N squinted, pausing in the air for a second. The gold shimmer moved again, just a few hundred feet away from her. 

She’d spotted it!

Glancing up, she saw that Draco was watching her intently. As casually as she could, she began making her way towards the Snitch, still flickering around a little next to one of the columns of the pitch. 

When he turned away for a second, Y/N gunned it, speeding towards it. It began to move away from her rapidly, but at the same, time, she was gaining momentum. 

“And it appears that Y/N Y/L/N has spotted the snitch!”

The Hufflepuff section roared as she closed in on the distance. She began stretching her hand out and was just inches away from it when something lightly bumped her shoulder.

Draco.

He moved so his shoulder was pressed to hers, keeping up with her exactly and leaning forward, mimicking her movements.

“You’re not half bad, you know,” he mused as nonchalantly as the whistling air would allow. 

“I do. Same with you.”

Y/N’s broom was going as fast as it could without being uncontrollable, and it seemed that that was the case for Draco as well. His arms were longer than hers, though, and he was just inches from grabbing the snitch. 

She could’ve just shoulder checked him to throw him off balance like she had seen him do so many times, but at the same time, he could’ve as well--but he wasn’t. 

In a sudden stroke of creativity, Y/N dived down , throwing Draco’s attention off just enough to lag behind for the briefest of seconds. Darting forward, her fingers managed to close around something cold and vibrating with energy.

“HUFFLEPUFF HAS CAUGHT THE--”

<>

Her head was heavy in the middle and light at the sides. Had it always been like that, or was she just hyperaware of the fact?

Her surroundings were dimly lit with a single candle, but even that hurt her eyes as they fluttered open. She vaguely recognized that it had to be nightime--wherever she was. Y/N tried to sit up, whimpering as the small of her back ached. 

“Whoa, slow down,” a familiar voice cautioned. It was posh and male, but she couldn’t quite place it. 

“Mmmhmm.” Her acknowledgement of the person speaking to her was unrefined and embarrassing, but she didn’t care. Whoever it was clearly cared enough to watch over her.

The memories came flooding back...the sensation of the snitch humming in her hands, Draco flying next to her, awe written all over his pretty face..but then the white hot sensation in her back, the sudden halt of her broomstick, the rushing motion as she plummeted to the ground...the boneshattering impact, the sounds of Draco wailing for help...

But then it cut off there. 

With newfound energy, Y/N hoisted herself up, taking in more of her surroundings. It was most certainly at some hour in the night in the Hospital Wing. A figure sat at the chair next to her bed, and a candle illuminated the currtain surrounding her. 

She squinted at the figure. “Who are you? I can’t see.”

“Oh.”

Dark arms rustled about, pulling out a wand and whispering Lumos. A ball of light revealed a very disheveled looking Draco Malfoy. Y/N gasped.

“Sh, you’ll wake Pomfrey up,” he whispered. “It wasn’t me who hexed you. It was Harper.”

Y/N blinked up at him. “I know.”

“You do?” 

He stared at her for a few seconds, his mouth agape.

“Of course I do, I heard you yelling for help. I wouldn’t do that to someone who just hexed me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Bet you wish you took that bribe now, huh?”

Y/N snorted. “No. I won.”

Draco just shrugged again. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great.”

“I figured.” He shifted in his seat a bit. “Listen, I...er...”

“What?”

He scooted forward just a few feet. “I’m sorry for trying to bribe you. I’ll be honest, I was just kind of looking for a reason to talk to you. Winning this match would’ve just been the cherry on top.”

“You...what?” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Stop it right now. What did Pomfrey give me? She must have me on some hard stuff...wow...”

He laughed, leaning forward even more. Y/N could smell a clean whiff of pine and black tea. “No, no, you’re not on pain potions. That I know of, at least.”

“So you’re telling me the truth?”

“Why would I wait her for...I don’t even know how many hours for you to wake up only to lie to you?”

“You were here for the entire time?”

“I mean, I had to shower and eat, but yeah, basically.” He cleared his throat, carding his hand through his hair. “I find you kind of interesting. Always have. Is it a crime to want to get to know you more?”

“I must be dreaming,” Y/N muttered, turning her eyes up to the ceiling. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“My parents aren’t as strict on half-bloods,” he hastily said. “And your academic and athletic record kind of...outshine the fact that you’re a Hufflepuff.”

“Charming,” Y/N responded dryly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that...” He wrung his hands together, gazing down at them instead of meeting her eyes. “I’m saying that I have...I don’t know, a soft spot for you? And if you feel the same way, I think it’d be, er, interesting to maybe see where this goes.”

“You’re saying that you have a crush on me?” 

The abruptness of her comment caused her to shyly look away at the ground. 

“No, look at me,” he murmured. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Y/N let out a lengthy exhale.

“What is it?”

“Could you tell? That I’ve had a massive crush on you since, well, forever?”

He shakily laughed. “Oh, thank god.”

“Well, could you?”

“Hm.” Draco thought for a few moments, placing an elbow on her bed so he could rest his chin in his hand. “Yeah, kind of. I couldn’t tell if I was overanalyzing everything, though.”

“You weren’t,” she assured him, turning to face him again.

He stared at her for a few seconds, his soft grey eyes wide with wonder. Inching his free hand closer to her, he paused. “May I?”

She smiled then, ignoring how her face hurt. “I mean, you waited hours for it.”

“No,” he corrected. “Years.”

With that, he gently slipped her hand into his, rubbing slow circles onto it as she drifted off to sleep. 

final a/n: me: so i’m not posting any more imagines until i’m literally into college and an adult! also me: here’s a fic i wrote in two hours because i couldn’t focus on my sat prep! also so so so sorry for any spelling mistakes/plot holes/grammatical errors in here. i just slammed this one out

[justthehiddleswrites]

Bah Hiddleston | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon) | Chapter 6 | Snowed In

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Tamra Harmon)

Summary:  Tamra Harmon has no mind to mess with Christmas. All that talk about Christmas magic and the joy of the holidays is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But will a chance encounter with perennial Christmas lover Tom Hiddleston change all that?

This chapter:  Tamra wakes up the next morning to find they have been snowed in. Tom suggests watching Christmas movies to pass the time. The two of them continue to deny their burgeoning feelings. Who will make the first move?

Warnings for story: smut, oral sex, implied smut, vaginal sex, light angst

-

Tamra woke that morning refreshed. As she opened her eyes, she did not find her small flat before her eyes but Tom’s guest room instead. She bolted from the bed in panic. As she woke up and her synapses started firing, she remembered the events of last night, the snow and dinner. She smiled as she reflected. As the days passed, she found herself not wanting to go back to her flat and craving the company of Tom, much to her surprise. And Tamra swore her stomach fluttered when Tom grabbed her hand to lead her through the crowds. But she pushed those feelings aside. This was Tom Hiddleston, not some regular guy back in Florida. Romance was not in the cards between her and a movie star.

As she stepped out into the hallway, Tamra smelled bacon. She picked up the pace as she headed to the kitchen. She found Tom standing at the stove in pajamas pants and a t-shirt, spatula in hand.

“I didn’t realize this was a full service bed-and-breakfast. Otherwise, I would have cancelled my other reservation.” Tamra commented as she moved to see what Tom was cooking.

“Oh, good you are awake. Did you sleep well?” Tom asked as the toaster popped up some toast. “Grab those please.”

Tamra plucked the toast and set them on a nearby plate. “Like a rock. How about you?”

“Same.” Tom lied, hoping she didn’t notice the dark circles under his eyes. “Breakfast is almost ready. Grab a cup of coffee and I will meet you at the table.”

Tamra didn’t argue as she poured a cup of coffee and headed to the table. Tom followed a moment later with two plates full of food. Tamra’s eyes widened at the spread.

“Is this what you eat on a regular basis?”

“Only on special occasions.” Tom smiled as he took a big bite of sausage. “It is my other specialty, a Full English breakfast.”

“I see why you work out. This is an insane amount of food.” she took a tentative bite of beans. “This is fantastic.”

“After last night, you are still questioning my cooking skills? I’m wounded.” Tom threw himself back in his chair as if shot by an arrow.

“Besides pasta and toast, what else can you cook?”

“Not much.”

Tamra smirked. “I figured as much. So what museum are we going to today?” she continued to dig into the food.

Tom chuckled. “I don’t think we are going anywhere today.”

Tamra stopped chewing and her brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? We have a deal. An arrangement.”

“We didn’t contemplate Acts of God within our deal. Look out the window.”

Tamra glared at Tom with suspicion as she walked to the nearest window. As far as Tamra saw, there was a heavy layer of white. Snow piled around Tom’s car, covered up to its tires.

“Are you kidding me? But what about public transportation? It must be open by now.” Tom came up behind to hover over Tamra’s shoulder.

“I’m afraid not. I checked online. Looks like you’re my prisoner for the foreseeable future.”

Tom placed his arm against the wall by Tamra’s head. She jumped and turned around to face him. Tom smirked as Tamra gulped. “What did you have in mind?” Tamra stuttered.

She ducked under his arm and turned her face so he wouldn’t see her flushed cheeks. Tom smiled at his success at flustering the unflappable woman standing before him. Tom moved past her to head into the living room. He reappeared with the remote. “What are your thoughts on Christmas movies?”

Tamra frowned. Tom shook his head.

“As I suspected.” Tom continued to back to the living room. Tamra continued to wear a sour expression but followed Tom into the living room all the same. She was trapped at his home for the time being.

-

They both got dressed, Tom lending Tamra a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt smelled of Tom and she inhaled the scent of Tom, citrus and herbs. Tom picked first and chose Miracle on 34th Street. The original in black and white. He mumbled something about “ruining a classic” as he plopped down next to Tamra on the couch.

“Look, Ms. Walker is you.” Tom teased, shoving Tamra’s shoulder with his. She shoved him away with both hands on his chest.

“And you’re Fred Gailey.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I take that as a compliment.”

“You would.”

Tom popped off the sofa and stood behind Tamra. He leaned over so his face was right in front of hers. His breath fanned on her cheek and Tamra’s breath hitched. If she leaned forward the tiniest bit, their noses would bump.

“Popcorn?” Tom asked. His blue eyes stared at her, looking for something.

“Um… yeah.” She stood and straighten out her shirt. “Let me help you.”

Tom popped the popcorn while Tamra found the ingredients for hot chocolate and fixed two mugs.

“How did you manage that?” Tom questioned as she handed him one of the mugs.

Tamra smiled as she walked away, snatching the bowl of popcorn. “You’re not the only one with culinary skills.” She paused at the doorway and spun in place. “My turn to pick. Perhaps Nightmare Before Christmas?” She took off running for the remote.

“Don’t you dare!” Tom lunged for the remote but Tamra grabbed it seconds before him.

“Victory!” Tamra shouted as she did a little dance. Tom fell to the couch in laughter.

“Fine! You are becoming quite the sore winner. It is very unbecoming for an otherwise lovely person. Your Grinch sized heart aside.”

Tamra flopped next to Tom, thighs touching. “I will have you know my heart is regular sized but otherwise thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go on, pick your dark and moody movie.”

Tamra glanced over at Tom, arms crossed in mock pouting. She looked through the movies on the TV. She lingered over The Nightmare Before Christmas. Tom turned his head in disgust. In that moment, Tamra switched over to another movie and hit play.

As Hugh Grant’s voice came on over, Tom turned to face the TV to spy the opening scene of Love Actually.

“Did you pick a Christmas movie?” Tom poked at her side. She grabbed his hand and placed it back in his lap.

“A romantic comedy that just happens to be set at Christmas. There’s a difference.”

“I’m not sure there is.”

Tamra had a bit of fun at Tom’s expense. “It seems to have a lot of talented British actors starring in it. How come you’re not in this movie?”

Tom choked on his hot chocolate. “What an odd question. If you must know, the casting director told me I was too good looking for the film. I would take away from Hugh Grant.”

“Seriously?!”

“No. I was in school. With a mop of blond curls.” Tom clapped his hand on Tamra’s knee.

“Their loss.” she moved her hand on top of his.

Neither moved their hand for the rest of the movie. In fact, by the end of the movie, Tamra’s head tucked into Tom’s shoulder, his arm draped over her shoulders. Tom curled his fingers underneath against palm so they didn’t brush against the top of her breast. As the end credits rolled, she sighed against Tom. He looked down at her to catch her eyes shining with tears. Tom’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. Her warmth radiated through his shirt, warming him to the core but that was not why his cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Your turn.” Tamra commented as she handed over the remote, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Tom pondered what movie to pick next when he spied his bare Christmas tree in the corner. “I have a better idea. How about we decorate the tree?”

“How about you wake up? I’m not decorating the tree.”

“Suit yourself.” he rose to fetch his decorations from the other room.

“You’re not going to try to convince me otherwise?”

Tom yelled over his shoulder as he walked away. “I’ve learned to pick my battles with you, and I haven’t the energy to fight about decorations. I’ll do it myself.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Grinch.”

Tom located the decorations tucked away in a closet. He pulled the boxes out and picked them until he spied his packages from earlier that week. He plucked the box on top of the bag and added it to his load.

“Found them!” Tom announced and Tamra looked up from her book.

“Good for you.”

Tom pulled the lid off the first box. “Now put up the lights.” He lifted a ball of lights.

“When is the last time you used those?” Tamra questioned, glancing up for a moment.

“A few years ago.” Tom squinted as he stared down at the mess. He tugged onto the ends but succeeded in only making things worse. He rocked back onto his heels in frustration, when a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders.

“Sit down, Tom.” Tamra sat down in front of him. She handed him one end of the lights. “Hold that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he gave a little salute.

“Not funny.”

With quick fingers, Tamra wove the other end around and through the tangle and before long, she was wrapping them into a neat coil.

“Take that end and start wrapping from the top.”

“I like a woman who takes charge.”

“Then you must love me.” Tamra giggled back.

Damn, pull it together Thomas! He cursed to himself. as they stood on either side of the tree, passing the lights around the tree, fingers grazing against each other, making sure each other had a grip on the lights. In their minds, they blamed the flush to their faces on the heat running. Once they finished wrapping the lights, Tom stood back to admire their handiwork.

“Not too bad. I bow to the master of Christmas lights.” He gave a deep bow.

“I do not accept that title. I couldn’t bear to witness you struggle. It would disturb my reading with all your cursing.”

“Touching. Now…” he shoved the other box towards her. “help me with the ornaments.”

“Hard pass.”

“I would hate to break one and get glass all over the floor. Safety hazard and you and I in our bare feet. Not to mention the noise disturbing your reading.” Tom looked down at his feet.

“Are you feigning incompetence in order to get me to help?”

The corners of Tom’s lips twitched. “I said I liked a woman who takes charge. Is it working?”

“No comment. Hand me the box.”

Tom pulled the lid off and thrusted two ornaments in Tamra’s direction. She hung them on the branches and Tom did the same. They alternated back and forth with Tamra telling Tom to move a particular ornament to somewhere else.

“The tree has to remain balanced.”

“Like it will topple over.”

“You enjoy looking at trees so much, you can at least have a nice looking one in your own home, Now move that one in your hand up a level.”

“I don’t like—”

“Did this whole thing not get started with you commenting about the tree in Trafalgar Square?” Tamra grabbed another ornament.

“Fair point. No, I’ll take that one. Here hang this one.” Tom handed her the glass ornament from the Christmas marketplace. Tamra didn’t recognize the ornament until she hung it on the tree.

“Where did you get this ornament?” she demanded.

“At a Christmas market.” Tom moved to stand beside her. “Why do you ask?”

“Which Christmas market?”

“The one at Winter Wonderland.”

“Did you… did you buy the ornament I was looking at?” Tamra stammered as Tom pivoted her to face him.

“Not exactly. I bought the ornament you looked at in the market… for you.” His blue eyes twinkled in the light.

“Thank you.” Tamra whispered, her head down and staring down at the floor. His kind gesture warmed her heart, and she noticed that all too familiar blush on her cheeks.

Tom’s heart pounded in his chest as though it would burst. He tucked a long finger under Tamra’s chin. Her hazel eyes glistened.

“You’re welcome.” Tom returned in a whisper. Specks of glitter sparkled on Tamra’s cheeks. “You have some…” He lifted his hand to her cheeks, swiping the offending glitter from her cheek. “… glitter.” His hand remained cupping her cheek.

“Ahh..” Tamra felt lightheaded. She raised a hand to rest on his shoulder for support. “thanks.” She could scarcely breathe and her heart pounded in her chest.

Blood rushed to Tom’s head and his ears rang but he didn’t care. It is now or never. He thought to himself before he lost his nerve. His other hand wrapped around Tamra’s waist and pulled her close to his chest and pressed his lips against hers.

[misplacedxeggos]

Preference - Little Moments

Cast

JAEDEN In Jaeden's backyard, he had a treehouse

All around the outside of it, there were fairy lights

Just like in the movie 'High School Musical 3' he played music while you danced around

Neither of you was the best of singers, so you didn't try and waste your breath

He spun you around multiple times and dipped you

Other times you would run away from him and he would take the other way surprising you

Anything that you did up there was magical and would be remembered forever

WYATT Wyatt sucked at ice skating

He would always hold onto the railing

You would hold his hand to guide him off of the edge

You brought him further out into the middle so he couldn't hold on

A little girl passed the two of you fastly and threw Wyatt off balance

He fell and brought you down too

You landed on him and he groaned in pain

You just laughed and gave him a kiss for his troubles

JACK Jack rarely ever sat still for anything making it hard for you to draw him

You got his permission beforehand to sketch him while he slept

The problem was that you always ended up falling asleep first

That was when you had the great idea to watch a boring movie after a long day

He was asleep within minutes, and it gave you time to draw his face

Though you could've just looked at pictures of him as a reference, you wanted to capture how peaceful he looked when asleep

After he woke up, you showed him your drawing, and he gained a bunch of energy back

He swung you around showering you with compliments

FINN Finn is always planning outings since you don't get to see him much

This night it was a picnic at the park

He had set up a blanket, picnic basket and fake candles

He guided you to the blanket that was right in front of the pond

You would talk about your day and what the future would hold

After a little while, you found flat stones to skip across the pond

Then, Finn took out his guitar and started playing a slow song for you

You spun around in circles listening to the lyrics

Characters

BILL Bill's bedroom has easy access to the roof

The whole day had gone bad for Bill

He failed his math test and got into a fight with his parents

You picked up on him being a little off and decided to surprise him

You went over a lot after his parents went to sleep

You threw a rock at his window signalling to lower the ladder

Once you got up, he set down a blanket and turned on some music

He then joined you on the roof while you distracted him from today with edible cookie dough and talking

"G-g-god I l-love you y/n"

He turned to give you a little kiss, but Georgie interrupted by slamming Bill's door

"BILL YOU BETTER NOT GET AN STD TONIGHT!!"

STAN Stan loved going out with you but sometimes just wanted to stay in

Tonight he had set up a little fort in his living room

He had popcorn and other movie snacks underneath and a couple of movie selections

The fort was perfectly tilted up so that you could see the television

You thought it was a really cute idea

The two of you played 'rock, paper, scissors' to see who got to pick the movie

Somehow you ended up watching 'Sixteen Candles'

Most times Stan wouldn't cuddle you, but today he was really clingy

You cuddled him for the whole movie and he fell asleep

EDDIE You loved taking bike rides with Eddie

Even though you had your own bike, Eddie prefered you riding with him

He loved feeling your arms around his waist and your head resting on his upper back

One day, he took you to the park

You sat down on the swing, and he insisted on pushing you

This lasted a while, and soon the sun was setting

He stopped pushing you, held your waist and put his head on your shoulder

You looked up and gave him a quick peck on the lips

RICHIE Getting ice cream with Richie was a usual Saturday event

Though when you started to go out, he stopped flirting with the cashier

So when she came to give both of you your ice cream, she was waiting for him to send a flirty remark

However he barely even acknowledged her besides thanking her of the ice cream

When she saw him reaching across the table to hold your hand she huffed and left

Even after that, she didn't give up

Later on, when you were finished, she gave him a napkin with her number on it

Richie didn't even look down at it and just wiped his mouth with it

[spnsmile]

Cas' reaction when he finds out Dean's liver failure

I can't really imagine how except pure shock and immediate tackle 😂

On the other hand.. ✨

Dean doing everything just to get Cas' attention because he can't stand the angel ignoring him for many days after a petty quarrel. Except the Angel of the Lord is so done with his shit that Cas refuses to even look at him. But Dean knows Cas weakness: Cas could never stop caring about him . And he loves Cas for this absolute fact.

At first, it's all deliberate. 

He knows how Cas can't stand it when he's injured,  so Dean would pull the most outrageous stunts just to see Cas looking at him in concern. Sam called him an idiot when he noticed but Sam's not the one hungry for the angel's attention. 

So Dean times it. Needless to say,  he's an acrobat, though lately his left shoulder's been aching like a bitch. 

He begins with a fall on the stairs. Dean slips three steps down and lands on his stomach flat on the floor.  The air gets knocked out of his chest, he lets out an exaggerated groan that must've shooed birds outside and made the most excruciating expression. 

Both Sam and Cas rushed to his side, his brother asking him what hurts, 'what d'you think?' but Cas presses a finger on his forehead quickly upon seeing Dean's face without asking. Dean pulls away like he's burned. No way he's wasting any of his boyfriend's mojo for real. 

The look of surprise on the hunter's face is mirrored on the angel. 

And it worked.  

Castiel transfixes him a glare so deep and said warningly, "Dean."

Attention taken. Dean doesn't let him so Cas is on him the entire day. He noticed bruising on his stomach after it and tells himself not to get too much into it. 

The second time the chance opened, they are outside the car in an empty street.  Cas is still inside the impala while the brothers prepare the weapons. 

Dean gets a classic act of timing Sam shutting down the impala's trunk lid on his right hand. Of course it's just skin,  but Dean can always exaggerate. 

He yowls in pain while poor Sam frantically fumbles for the keys. Cas panics beside him when he checks the commotion and nearly ripped apart baby's lid away if Dean didn't snatch his red skin from the trunk, looking horrified. 

Cas this time grabs his wrist. Did not even let him speak and just heals him, telling Dean  Cas it's just a car in comparison to his limb so Dean doesn't talk to him for a day. Cas also unwittingly removed his bruising stomach. 

Third time's a real accident. Dean simply pretended to fix the sink's pipe when a jolting abdominal pain hits him bad, he knocks his brain out when he pulls up- the thud is heard all over the kitchen. Dean groans because the bump is real and his stomach is in pain,  so when he sees Cas already by the door, looking around the room where he heard Dean's cry, Dean calls for him. 

The two looked at each other,   the blue eyes round and wide while the green is teary from the pain. He watches as Cas walks toward him,  kneels down and looks him searchingly in the eyes. Questionningly at first, then alarm. 

He cradles Dean's cheeks on his palms,  fitting Dean there, making the hunter blink for a moment. Cas suddenly clicks his tongue like he's chastising himself before he scoops Dean to his arms and stands up,  carrying the hunter bridal style while the Dean complains aloud to be let down. Cas doesn't. 

Not even when Sam stops to look from the kitchen doorway.  One look at Cas'expression and Sam is moving out of his way,  not wanting to be involved. 

Dean goes on complaining until the corridor where Cas gives him this glare so piercing it shut the hunter's lip till they reach his room. 

Heart pounding when Cas stops at the edge of the bed,  Dean's thoughts crisscrosses on things they can both do,  except he feels nauseus and cold at the moment.

Then his heart skips a beat when he sees Cas look at their bed. 

For one wild moment,  Dean thought Cas would drop him there and just ravish him.  He saw the longing in the angel's eyes, so it's a surprise to him when Cas slowly puts him down and lays him across as gentle as possible like he's cradling a child. 

But then Cas pulls the hem of his shirt up away from his stomach.  Dean jerks up, excitement and nausea mixing in his body. Cas puts a hand on his shoulder,  eyebrows contracted, blue eyes solemn. 

"Don't move."

Dean blinks.  He wants to ask what's wrong but the look is enough to silence the hunter and just trusts the angel.  

"Dean,  what do you feel?"

"Huh? Uh... well,  I got a boner for one thing."

"We can take care of that later."

Dean chuckles, the shaking of his body making him groan.  Castiel holds his arm. "Dean?" the angel suddenly touches his right side with the tips of his fingers and presses down Dean's stomach. 

Dean chokes in pain,  tears now welling up as he struggled to breath.  Castiel quickly removes his hand, then gets his palm over Dean's stomach. 

There's a pause then-

Dean sighs at the warm energy circling his side. Cas is doing something miraculous on his abdomen, causing Dean to sigh in relief.  Then it's all gone. 

Dean blinks and looks around inquiringly. Cas is still frowning over his exposed stomach. 

"Cas?"

"How long have you been in pain?"

"Uh...  Huh?"

"Your liver was failing, Dean. How could I let this happen?  It's my fault. " Cas weakly says, slumping his ass down the floor while Dean scrambles to a sitting position with quick hand clutching the sleeves of Cas'trench coat. Afraid Cas would go away. 

"Hey,  hey... What did you just say?  I got liver...?"

"Failure." Cas whispers, head bowed down. 

"Okay." Dean frowns.  Is that why he's been feeling weird lately? "Uh...  So how's that your fault?"

"Because I'd been ignoring you for the past days..." Cas groans, slamming his palms on his eyes,  "If I hadn't neglected you, this wouldn't have happened."

Dean surveys the angel for a moment,  then he chuckles. It did not pain him anymore. Castiel glares up though,  "You think this is funny?"

" I think you're over accepting responsibilities.  Cas, how could my liver or balls' failure be your fault?  This is my body, my responsibility."

"You're my responsibility." Cas replies flatly,  "You're mine."

And that's when Dean sees how Cas sees him. 

His.

"Come here,  bed." Dean says,  patting the otherside of the bed.  Like magic, Castiel snaps his fingers and he stands up only in his boxers.  Dean smiles as Cas tackles him on the bed, making Dean his little spoon.

"My body's failure is never on you,  Cas." Dean explains quietly, "I'm human."

"With a boyfriend angel.  That should make a difference." Cas isn't appeased. His grumpiness makes Dean chuckle. 

"Are you going to heal me forever?  You know... Like stop my skin from getting wrinkles and make me stay like some ken-doll forever?"

"If you permit forever."

"Yeah,  but you're gonna date an old guy soo,  Cas..."

"I think there's beauty in age." Cas murmurs on Dean's nape,  nipping on the skin and sighing. "I think you'd look more beautiful with age, Dean."

"Like Tom Cruise?" Dean chuckles,  squiggling away from the position so he can turn around the bed to face his angel.  

"You're more, always will be. He doesn't even begin to compare. . " Cas says,  pulling Dean closer and inhaling his scent. "Your soul will always be the same to me,  Dean. No matter how your vessel looks like."

"You say that now.  Wait till my hair is all white and my skin's all wrinkly-"

"So be it. I think you'll still look hot."

"Doesn't sound sexy at all." Dean pouts. "I mean,  you're not the guy who has to walk around with a hot boyfriend on his arm like some pimp."

 Cas suddenly props himself on one elbow,  staring at his boyfriend with unequal intent,  "Do you mean that?"

"Uhh... ?" The twinkle on Cas'eyes made the hunter go back to what he said just now. "What?  The part of you being my pimp?"

"You and me staying together." Cas says breathlessly. Even Dean has to pause to take in the angel's too happy face. "You said..."

Dean frowns like this never occured to Cas?  Then he remembered.. He never asked nor prepared to pop up the question. He did

"Of course,  Cas. I mean,  you're the one who can ditch me when you get tired of fixing my failing liver or failing kidney or failing personality.  You're my it, Cas. Nothing to change that now."

"I'll never tire of you,  Dean. We will grow old together if you want and then share your heaven some day." 

"Second heaven, you mean. This is the first." Dean snuggles closer to Cas,  basking himself in the angel's warmth. 

"First it is."

"Of the many?" Dean asks. 

"Of the many." Cas promises. 

"Marry me." Dean looks Cas in the eyes,  ring won't do because at that moment he knows he can promise Cas the moon. 

Castiel gives him sunshine. 

"Oh, Dean. Yes. " 

#still dont know how to cut this 🔪

[bltngames]

Review: Super Mario Sunshine

Super Mario Sunshine is a weird game for a lot of different reasons. It was among some of the first game reviews I ever wrote for the internet, for one, all the way back in 2005. I was proud enough of that review that when it came time to relaunch TSSZ News in 2008, it was one of five archived reviews I transplanted on to the site. It was also a strange case where I became convinced it was a game I’d never play, originally. I was 23 years old, with no job, no money, and no prospects. I was desperate to play the game that was being sold as the sequel to Super Mario 64, but I could not envision a future where that would ever be possible.

Eventually, I reached my breaking point. Earlier that same year, somebody had linked me to something called “Quake Done Quick.” It was attached to a relatively new site, called the “Speed Demos Archive”, a hub for videos of people finishing games as fast as possible. The site was small, updated manually, and featured a list of roughly 100 games -- maybe less. This was before Youtube, so these were downloadable video files, usually in AVI or MPG format. And it was here that they had a Super Mario Sunshine speedrun. Even on my fledgling broadband internet, it took a considerable amount of time to download. But, with nothing more than two hours of raw, unedited, uncommentated gameplay footage, I watched a user named “Dragorn” play through the entire game (his old run is still viewable on the Internet Archive). Watching a speedrunner flip, spin, and trick his way across levels, I became convinced that Sunshine was incredible.

A few months later, I was surprised by my brother with $200 for Christmas, stuffed inside a greeting card. He said it was for “all the Christmases he missed” since moving out, years ago. Combined with other money I’d received in gifts, I headed to a Gamestop and purchased a Gamecube with my own (used) copy of Super Mario Sunshine. In my mind, it did not matter that I had spoiled the entire game for myself only three months earlier with the speedrun video. Watching someone else play is no substitute for a controller in your own hands. I needed to play it for myself.

In the modern context, Super Mario Sunshine is one of the games attached to the recently released Super Mario 3D All-Stars collection. Full disclosure: I will not be buying this collection, and I have not played the version of Super Mario Sunshine it includes. It’s not that these games are bad, but even from the outside looking in, the collection looks underwhelming. It’s full of basic, bare-bones ports of games that deserve more. But it does mean that these games have been on my mind, particularly Super Mario Sunshine, which I finished replaying, separately, a little more than one year ago. It was the first time I’d finished the game since that fateful Christmas of 2004, and it provided a refresh in perspective.

The truth of the matter is, brushing aside everything else about it, Super Mario Sunshine is an easy game to hate. Nintendo was trying a lot of new things with the Gamecube, struggling to figure out what could be done with the leap in horsepower over the Nintendo 64. Their pitch was a Mario that was subtly more serious and realistic. Sunshine is a game with a surprisingly large number of cinematics, and a considerable amount of narrative setup. It sounds like a joke, but it’s true: the game opens with Mario taking a long-deserved vacation on a tropical island, only to be arrested and wrongfully accused of crimes he did not commit. He is sentenced to community service, forced to clean the island of a paint-like substance its residents claim he has used to vandalize their resort town. This is accomplished with the F.L.U.D.D., a backpack-mounted squirt gun perfect for washing down walls and floors. It was the first manual labor he’d been shown doing since the NES version of Wrecking Crew in 1985.

It’s odd territory for Mario, but it leads to the game’s first real problem: Plot. Sunshine is not a game that’s packed with story -- there aren’t a lot of named characters, and there aren’t a lot of genuine story arcs to get hooked in to, but it’s way more than you got in most Mario games. Regardless, the influence of a narrative structure is definitely felt within its levels. One of the benefits of Super Mario 64 is that there was no set order to anything; you might drop in to a level with a specific goal in mind, only to accidentally stumble on to something else. You were encouraged to follow your curiosity, collecting stars more through natural exploration. Even though it’s not always obvious on the surface, the objectives in Super Mario Sunshine are following a specific plotline, which means flat, rigid linearity.

So you might reach an amusement park area, but you can’t go inside until you finish the mission where you open the front gates. Even once you re-enter the level for the next mission inside the amusement park, exploring its various rides will be a moot point, as the game will want you to focus on a specific goal instead. Want to ride the rollercoaster? Too bad, the story dictates it’s not available yet. Though you still have that go-anywhere, do-anything world design from Super Mario 64, the current mission is the only thing that’s ever active. Another example: at the beginning of the game, you open up the first stage -- Bianco Hills. Even though you have a whole village and a sizable lake area to explore, there’s little to do out there, because your mission is about reaching the bottom of the windmill. The second mission, again, doesn’t involve the village or the lake, but now asks you to reach the top of the same windmill in order to fight the game’s first boss, Petey Piranha. And so it goes: big zones to explore, but most of it useless as Sunshine slowly trickles out objectives one at a time, following a barely-visible narrative that drags everything down.

Nintendo had other intentions for the game, too. The company was known for taking its time with game releases -- Super Mario World released in 1990, and it took six years for Super Mario 64 to follow it up. Even once a game was announced, there were often months or even years of delays as the game got pushed back, and back, and back, as with Ocarina of Time. Similarly long waits happened for many of Nintendo’s other flagship franchises (Super Mario Kart, Super Metroid, etc.), and the peanut gallery was getting restless. With the release of the Gamecube, Nintendo made a vow to explore other avenues to release more games, more quickly.

The problem was, all of those delays are exactly what lead to Nintendo’s extremely high bar of quality. Rushing these games out the door meant cutting corners and finding easy ways to tack on extra play time, skipping necessary fine tuning. In The Wind Waker, this notoriously led to the last fourth of the game, wherein you must find and decode maps to dredge up half a dozen pieces of the magical Triforce. For most, this meant hours of sailing out to random, completely featureless areas in the middle of the open ocean hoping to find a single golden tortilla chip. “Tedious” is putting it kindly, but it saved Nintendo from having to delay the game too many times in order to add more in-depth content.

In Super Mario Sunshine, this manifested in a degree of repetition that is difficult to ignore. In both Super Mario 64 and Super Mario Galaxy, most mission objectives are unique. There are occasional repeated missions, like finding 8 red coins, but by and large it's things like rescuing a baby penguin, opening a pyramid, assaulting an airship, or finding your way through a gravity-bending maze. There's enough variety that you don't notice as much when you're asked to do yet another one of Galaxy's purple coin comets.

Sunshine still has unique goals like that, but they are much fewer and farther between. Instead, the bulk of the game is filled with doing the same four or five missions over, and over, and over again. Finding fruit to hatch Yoshi or hunting red coins can be fun occasionally, but Sunshine often makes you do this stuff multiple times per level. Most bosses also must be faced at least twice, sometimes up to three times, and very little changes from fight to fight. And then there are the races -- a man named Piantissimo is waiting for you in most stages, looking to race you to an arbitrary landmark, and every single level has one penultimate mission where you must chase down the hero's evil doppelganger, Shadow Mario. It’s padding, basically, and thanks to a tenuous grip on narrative, there’s few ways to skip the things you don’t want to do.

This isn't even touching on the game's blue coins. They're one of Sunshine's rarer collectibles, and ten blue coins can be traded at the shop for a single Shine Sprite (the main item central to the story). The majority of blue coins can be found by hosing down graffiti found around the island. Spray a circle-shaped pattern on one wall, and a blue coin pops out of another circle-shaped pattern on the opposite side of the level, which you must run to and collect before it disappears. Then, the opposite: spray down the second pattern, and another blue coin will appear back where the first graffiti used to be. In a game full of rerun objectives, this is the worst offender. Rarely are these blue coin graffiti spots interesting or challenging; they primarily exist to fill space and fluff up the Shine counter.

The level concepts themselves also suffer from this repetition. In any other Mario game, “tropical island” would be one theme among many other level types, like deserts, volcanoes and frozen lakes. Sunshine tries to stretch its one theme out to last an entire game, and in practical terms, this means that even after 18 years and two complete playthroughs (three, if you count the speedrun video), I still can’t remember most areas in any kind of specific detail. I remember a couple stage names, maybe a few environmental traits (like the hotel at sunset or the amusement park), but anything beyond that and it all starts blurring into homogeneous beaches, docks, and villages. Even the music -- beyond the iconic acoustic guitar of the Delfino Plaza hub world song, absolutely nothing about Super Mario Sunshine’s soundtrack stands out as memorable in the slightest. Every part of this game plays, looks and sounds like every other part in the worst way possible.

And yet, through some miracle, Super Mario Sunshine does not come out the other end being a bad game. It’s not necessarily good, either, mind you. But when I finally managed to get my hands on this game back in 2004, it made me angry. Super Mario 64 was a tough act to follow, and rather than build on those concepts, Sunshine felt like a massive regression. Nowadays, it’s easier to see the bigger picture. Super Mario Sunshine was a stop-gap as Nintendo slowly pushed Mario back to a more linear, level-based structure. Super Mario Galaxy was another step in this direction, doing away with the open worlds in favor of traditional, straight-forward level design, something that would later be perfected in Super Mario 3D Land and Super Mario 3D World.

That makes Sunshine more of a curious black sheep than anything else. It’s definitely not a game worth hating -- its biggest offense is simply being dull, and there are worse fates. For my replay, it became the sort of game I chipped away at, bit by bit, over the course of nearly three years. As it turns out, the best cure for repetition is to forget everything you were doing the last time you played. It’s even fitting on some level that a game about Mario taking a vacation is best served in lazy, slow, indifferent chunks. Make no mistake -- there are better, more polished, and more engaging platformers out there for you to play. It is in no way a stretch to call Super Mario Sunshine the worst 3D Mario game, but it speaks to the franchise’s high bar of quality that even the worst 3D Mario game really isn’t so bad.

[nicole-lynne]

Beach Daze

This was a request for the lovely @starshinekiszka​ and I hope you love it dear! I had so much fun with a little Boyfriend Jake at the Beach!

Please like, comment, and reblog if you liked this story! I really appreciate the love. 

Warnings: NSFW 18+ 

The room was dead silent except for the little scratches of writing on the desks, furrowed brows of kids trying to magically remember the answers from the beginning of the semester. You carefully dropped your pencil onto the desk and did one last scan of your test. All the answers looked as right as they could be at this point, so you shrugged your shoulders and headed toward the front of the room. 

Mr. Turner, your music professor, gave you a reassuring smile as you handed him the paper. He’d been your favorite part of the class, as a musical genius he was always in the mood for debating different artists and techniques. This class was going to be something you missed now that it was done. You nodded at him, mouthing a ‘happy summer’ and started for the door. 

Finally. You had tackled your junior year of university and summer was here. It couldn’t have come any sooner. Even though it had been your own decision, you’d pushed yourself to get a 4.0 this year and man, it had made a few things tough. 

As a result, you’d given up more weekend visits with your boyfriend, Jake, and forced yourself to study during every free moment. But in the long run, it would pay off when you got a great job...hopefully. 

You flung the heavy wooden door open and skipped out into the warm sunlight, your arms spread out to your sides to bring your limbs back to life. It was officially time to relax. 

You turned to head for your dorm but you froze in place and a grin came to your face as your eyes landed on Jake, perched on the end of the stairs, clunking his boots against the concrete column lazily. He was watching you with a cute little smirk on his lips. God how was he so attractive all the damn time. 

“Jake, you’re here!” You jogged down the stairs and he jumped down just in time to catch you as hurled yourself at him. He had his long brown hair up in a bun and you played with the baby hair at the nape of his neck. It was rare that he put his hair up but it was a look that he pulled off so well. 

“Hey mama.” He laughed as he stumbled to hold you both up. “I figured I’d surprise my special girl on her last day of junior year.” 

“You didn’t have to do that babe, you shouldn’t have driven all this way. I know you were supposed to be having band practice tonight.” You untangled your body from his, opting for intertwining your fingers. 

“Eh fuck it. Sam and Danny have both been ditching all week to hang out with Joy and Mckenzi. I think I’ve earned the right to skip out and come see my favorite girlfriend on the first day of summer.” 

“I better be your only girlfriend, Jacob Thomas.” 

Jake twisted a strand of your hair around his finger and gave you a cheeky little smile. “Trust me, one of you is all I can handle. You are a handful, missy.” 

Playfull you slapped his arm pretending to take offense to that and he grabbed your hand out of the air, holding it tightly to his chest. It was impossible to hide how excited you were though. Somehow, he always managed to surprise you even after all the years you’d been together. He always did the exact opposite of what you expected and it still swept you off your feet. 

“Well I guess I’m pretty lucky that the boys are completely irresponsible, aren’t I?” Lifting up on your tiptoes, you popped a sweet kiss on his cheek. “So how do you want to spend your day playing hookie, bubba?” 

“I was thinking you might want to take me to that beach you’ve talked about. We’ve never had a chance when I’ve visited before and it’s a perfect day to spend outside.” 

Excited at the idea, you jumped up and down like a little puppy. “Yes, Deerlick Creek Beach, that sounds perfect. I’ve been dying to take you there since I first found it. It’s this park that backs right up to the beach and it’s just so beautiful. I kind of wish the guys could come too, it’s just the kind of place they would love too.” 

“You’ll just have to settle for me this time, mama.” Jake jested as you two fell into step, heading for your dorm. 

“Ahh, I guess you’ll have to do today. But I definitely won’t put up with this again.” You winked at him, squealing when he locked his arm around your neck and gave you a gentle noogie on your head. 

~~~

An hour later, you and Jake were trekking through the parking lot in more comfortable clothes, your swimsuit peeking out from the Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt you’d stolen from Jake years ago and him in shorts and a button up shirt with barely any buttons done. 

You glanced back to watch Jake battle to hold the cooler, the towels, and keep his sunglasses from falling off his head. Instead of going to help, you keeled over and burst out laughing harder than you had in weeks. 

“Yes, ha ha, I look ridiculous. Now can you please help me, I’m struggling.” He deadpanned. 

“Yeah, but it’ll cost you.” You giggled and took the towels out of his hand. 

He glared at you for a second before his face cracked a smile and he readjusted his glasses. “You just better be glad that you’re cute or else I wouldn’t take this abuse.” 

“Aw poor baby,” You squished his cheeks in between your fingers and he puckered up his lips into a pout at you, “life must be rough for the poor little rockstar. You really should be thanking me for keeping you grounded or all the fame would give you a big head.” 

“Oh trust me, babe, I’ve definitely got a big head.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows at you arrogantly and strode off in the direction of the beach. You stared in his direction, your mouth gaped open wide in shock, unable to follow after him. He could come off so innocent, that when he said something dirty, it could completely catch you off guard. “You’ll catch flies that way, dear.” He smugly called over his shoulder.

Popping your mouth closed, you chased after him, your flip flops clapping loudly and echoing in the tree-surrounded parking lot. Jake smiled as you caught up to him and held his elbow out for you.

You two walked, arm-in-arm, through the cool, shaded park. He listened intently, a slight smile on his face, as you pointed out places you’d sat to study or things you’d thought the guys might like to do if they came to visit. No matter what it was, he adored listening to all the random thoughts that popped into your head. He’d missed you so much this year, the phone calls and facetimes never seemed to be enough to fill the hole in his heart for you. 

After two or three laps around the path, Jake led you out to a spot on the beach. The beach was almost completely empty except for a couple that was miles away, only small specks on the horizon. 

“Do you think this will be good? Should we move?” Jake was scratching his head, looking up and down the beach and mumbling uncertainties to himself. “I can find us a different spot, mama.” 

“Jake,” You tugged lightly on his shirt and he , “as long as I’m with you, I really couldn’t care where we sit.” Deciding for the two of you, you unrolled your towel with a satisfying ‘thwap’ sound and laid it out on the ground. 

Jake watched you lovingly, admiring the way you were sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth, complete concentration on getting all the corners to lay flat. Dropping the cooler, he unrolled his towel next to yours and plopped down on the ground. 

The sky was the perfect shade of blue and the sounds of the lake lapping at the edge of the sand were like a soft melody that they could fall asleep to. But Jake could only look at you. He couldn’t tear his eyes off as you removed your shirt, exposing your bare midriff. 

You twisted around to dig out your book and settled back into the sand. “You want me to read out loud for you, baby? We haven’t had the chance to read together in a while.” You asked as you flipped through the pages trying to find the last spot. 

Jake gently grabbed the book from your hands and you looked up at him confused. “I was thinking we could maybe focus on something else...” He pressed his lips against your bare shoulder, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 

A shiver ran down your spine with excitement, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your skin made the rest of the world dull around you, while Jake was crisp and clear in front of you. 

“Jake, we’re in public...” You mumbled. 

“No one is around, baby.” He lightly kissed the base of your neck. His fingers were rubbing tiny circles on your hip. All your objections were starting to float away as his scent of cigarettes and clove started to haze your thinking. 

“What if someone sees us? We could get in trouble, Ja-” You couldn’t stop the gasp when he pulled your earlobe between his teeth and delicately bite down. 

You wanted to be worried that someone might see you guys but, instead, your eyes fluttered shut as the sensations started to overwhelm you. It had been so long since you’d been able to touch him and it would be a lie to say you hadn’t missed it. Jake knew exactly which spots to touch to get a reaction out of you and he was using it to his advantage now. 

You ran your hand against his chest and up around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You needed him against you so badly now. 

“Someone’s a little feisty, have you been missing me like I’ve been missing you?” 

“Always, now shut up and kiss me.” 

Jake brought his mouth to yours and locked you into a heated kiss, his tongue swept past your lips and brushed against yours. Little moans and sighs were escaping you and he was swallowing each one happily. You could feel his boner pressed against your thigh and you had to force yourself not to rip off his clothes and take him right there.  

He detached himself from you and leaned down to pepper kisses against the hollow of your neck and chest, nibbling little love bites as he went. 

“I’ve missed the taste of your sweet skin so much. God, you’re so sexy, baby. I want you so badly.” 

Jakes fingers trailed smoothly back and forth across your stomach, the rough calluses created a sensation that only he could give you. Once in a while, his fingertips would barely dip below your shorts and then back out, teasing you over and over again. You laid your cheek against his neck and whimpered, hoping he’d be done teasing you soon. 

“You want something, little one?” He asked smugly. 

Barely nodding, you said, “I want you to touch me, Jakey. I want you to make me feel good.” 

Giving you a small grin, he skillfully popped the button on your shorts and pulled the edges back to give himself space. You glanced around to make sure that you were still alone before spreading your legs open a little more. 

Hooking his leg over yours, he bent down and kissed you, softer this time. The kiss grounded you to the moment and it felt like you both were floating high on euphoria. 

Jake slipped his hand past your shorts and swimsuit bottom and you moaned as he finally ran a finger through your folds. 

Pulling his hand back out, he sucked his finger into his mouth and cleaned it. “You taste so fucking good, baby. I can’t wait to take you home and devour you for hours.” You whimpered at his words, unable to tear your eyes away from him hovering above you. 

In one movement, his hand was back collecting your wetness. He moved his fingers up and around, avoiding your clit every time. The last time, he circled his middle finger against your clit and a jolt of electricity shot through your body making Jake chuckle at your reaction. 

“Jakey...” 

“Shh, baby,” He added his index finger to start rubbing from side to side, dipping down to brush against your entrance and then back again, “you’ve been such a good girl lately. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 

As the words left his lips, he pushed his finger deep into your pussy pulling a groan of satisfaction from you. He dragged his finger from you, hooking it a little to brush against your g-spot. 

“Why are you so damn good at this?” 

“Because I love hearing all those pretty noises you make for me, baby.” Jake whispered into your ear and added a second finger.

You leaned into him, his arm cradling your head close to his body, your breathing getting heavier with every pump of his fingers. You could faintly hear how wet you were and that was just making you even more turned on to know that he could still do this to you. 

Jakes fingers were snapping into you and the ridges of his knuckles dragging against your walls felt phenomenal. Every time, you wanted to close your eyes from the pleasure but you wanted to catalog every thing that was around you. The way Jakes lips were parted in concentration, small tendrils of hair falling out of his bun down into his face, the bright blue sky above you, the sound of the water lapping against the shore.

Then he started tapping his thumb against your clit and your vision blurred with pure bliss. Everything was overwhelming you. His sweet scent, the rush of being in public, each time he bumped against your g-spot, and you could feel the pressure in your stomach building. 

Jake started moving quicker, simultaneously sucking of the sensitive spot under your ear making your moans louder and more needy. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, sweet girl?” All you could do was whine in response. “Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” 

His dirty words were the final straw. The pressure erupted and you shuddered as your orgasm hit every inch of your body. “That’s it, baby, you look so pretty like this.” 

Your pussy was contracting around his fingers, trying to pull him in deeper, and he kept pumping slowly to work you through your high and his thumb was rubbing back and forth against your clit. Finally, you gripped his wrist to stop his motions, your core starting to be oversensitive from such intense pleasure. 

Jake removed his fingers from you and you sighed at the sudden loss. He kissed the top of your head and hugged you closer. You rested your forehead against his chest, taking a moment to just enjoy being with him. These were the moments you lived for.

“I definitely wasn’t expecting that to happen at the beach.” You giggled. 

“I was.” Jake stated matter-of-factually. You leaned back to look at him, eyebrow raised with intrigue. “Babe, I haven’t seen you in months and you have needs. Plus, it turns you on thinking that we might get caught.” 

You opened your mouth to refute that but he cut you off with a kiss. “Don’t worry, I think it’s hot. Now, why don’t you get that book back out, I’ve been missing your reading.” 

“You want me to read...now? I thought you’d want to go back to the room.” 

Jake rolled onto his back, pulling you with him. “I just want to enjoy as much of this beautiful day with you as possible. I want to listen to you reading Emily Brontë out loud and play around in the water.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Besides, we have all weekend to do whatever we want.” 

You laughed at him waggling his eyebrows at you and pecked a kiss on his lips. Then you grabbed the discarded book and opened it to the last place you’d been and snuggled into his arms. Jake ran his fingers through your hair absentmindedly as you read the first sentence.

[gwenbrightly]

Nya Wins an All Expense Paid Trip to the Hospital (and gives everyone else a heart attack) - Of Milk and Cookies Chapter 16

Crossposted from ffnet. Someone once requested I write about post tomorrow’s tea Lloyd comforting a hurt Nya, and this was the result of that suggestion. Please enjoy what is probably the most relatable thing I’ve written so far:

Nya glared at the stack of worksheets in front of her as though it would magically grade them for her. After the day she’d had, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know if any of her students had bothered to learn anything. Sneaking off to her room to curl up into a ball with her heat pad and sleep sounded much more appealing.  

“C’mon Aaron,” she muttered as she examined the paper at the top of the stack, only to discover that the student in question had dotted his eyes with hearts in a very uncharacteristic way, “if you’re gonna copy off of Sally, at least be subtle about it.”

They’d have to have another discussion about the evils of cheating. Not that it would do any good. Before meeting the students that currently roamed the halls of Master Wu’s Academy, Nya and the others had occasionally referred to Lloyd as demon spawn. But now? He was more like an angel compared to the hooligans she was expected to put up with each and every day. She sighed and set the worksheet aside to deal with later. The next one was no better; it was covered with doodles of wine glasses.

“Really, Megan? Again?”

These children almost made her wish she were old enough to drink actual wine. Maybe it would help with the headache grading these worksheets was giving her. And the stabbing pain that had been plaguing her side since early that morning. She was going to have to find some midol, soon, if it didn’t let up. It had been difficult to survive a full day of teaching like this. And the worst part was that none of her usual strategies for dealing with cramps seemed to be helping.

“Nya?” someone called as they knocked on the door to her classroom. She got up from her desk, grimacing as pain shot through her side once again.

“I’m coming!” she called back. Nya opened the door to find her brother waiting outside.

“Heya, sis. Just wanted to check in on you. Jay said you skipped out on your lunch date earlier…” Kai explained with a quizzical expression.

“Of course he did.” she said in annoyance. He frowned.

“Everything okay between you?” he asked after a moment.

“Just peachy.” she replied through gritted teeth. Why couldn’t Jay keep his mouth shut?

“Nya… are you sure you’re okay?” Kai pressed, “It’s not like you to skip meals…”

“I’m just… tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night and it’s been a long day. That’s all.” she told him, doing her best to shoot him a weak smile. There was no need to worry him by mentioning her abnormally bad stomach pain. Everyone would make a huge fuss and all she really wanted was some peace and quiet.  

“It’s almost dinner time. Why don’t you take a break from grading and come grab a bite to eat? You’re looking a little pale.” suggested Kai. He looked at her searchingly, still not completely convinced she was alright.

“Okay. I guess that would probably be a good idea.” Nya agreed. Maybe some food would help her feel better. She hadn’t had anything to eat other than the granola bar she’d choked down at breakfast; lunch had been forgone in favor of a nap that had ultimately done absolutely nothing to improve her state. She followed Kai down the hall that lead to the cafeteria, doing her best to distract herself by telling him about Aaron’s latest attempt at cheating.

“Don’t take it too personally, sis,” Kai told her supportively, “these kids are really rough around the edges. It’s hard to teach someone who flat out doesn’t wanna learn anything.”

“I know. I just wish they’d listen to me better.” Nya commented, pushing the door to the cafeteria open. A wave of nausea hit her as she stepped inside. The smell was too much for her. She swayed uncertainly for a moment before shaking it off and heading over to the counter where the food was served. Kai, who was waving to a few of their more tolerable students, didn’t seem to notice. They each grabbed a plate and piled it with macaroni and cheese along with freshly steamed broccoli before slipping off to the teacher’s lounge so they could eat in peace.

“I’m telling you, the kid’s a psychopath in the making. Something about him is not normal.” Jay was insisting when they arrived.  

“I can’t argue with you, there, but at least he doesn’t think you’re boring,” Cole countered, “if he decides to kill all of us in our sleep, he’ll probably come after me first.”

“Well, this is a great conversation to walk into.” Kai commented with a wry grin.

“Hello!” Zane greeted brightly.

“We’re commiserating over Finn again, I see.” Nya observed, delicately seating herself on an unoccupied couch. It was a relief to sit down again.  

“Yup.” Cole confirmed.

“What did he do this time?” she asked. She took a small bite of her food as Jay launched into his overzealous storytelling, but regretted it almost instantly. Her stomach rebelled and she felt another wave of pain wrack her body. What was wrong with her? Was this what dying felt like? She set her plate aside and curled into herself. The room was suddenly too hot, the sound of the others talking too loud. She felt like she was on the verge of throwing up.  

“Nya? You’re not looking so good…” Jay’s voice floated through her pain filled haze.  

“It’s j-just girl issues…” she gasped out, “please just let me die in peace…”

The others exchanged worried looks. Zane came over and put a hand to her forehead.  

“A fever would not be consistent with ‘girl problems’ as you put it.” he told her.

“Fever?” she repeated. This was news to her. He nodded, saying,  

“Your temperature is currently 101.4 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Oh.”

“Nya, are you able to hop on one foot?” the nindroid asked. Nya glared at him in confusion.  

“What? Why would you ask that? It’s stupid! You’re stupid.”  

She paused when she realized what she’d just said.  

“Oh, Zane, I’m sorry… that wasn’t-”

“Please try. I promise there’s a good reason for this.” Zane insisted. She stared at him without responding for a moment. Trying to do as he suggested was only going to make things worse. He stared back, unrelenting, as if he knew something she didn’t. Finally, Nya gave in and pushed herself up with great effort. Still not fully buying into whatever Zane was pulling, she gave a half-hearted attempt at hopping on her right foot.  

“I can’t,” she cried agonizedly, collapsing back onto the couch, “fsm it hurts…”  

Zane didn’t seem surprised by this revelation.  

“I believe it would be wise to get you to the hospital. Your appendix appears to be on the verge of rupturing.” he announced. For the first time in a long time, Nya heard her brother swear loudly.  

*-*-*-*-*

Epic Ninja Family Group Chat

Jay: Hey, Greenie! Just wanted to let you know that we’re taking Nya to the HOSPITAL!!!!  

Jay: She’s in SURGERY now.  

Jay: Pick up your hecking phone, man.  

Jay: This is getting ridiculous… where ARE you???????  

Jay: L l o y d

Jay:??????  

*-*-*-*-*-*

Lloyd reread the series of text messages Jay had sent him for what must have been at least the 15th time. It was clear the master of lightning had panicked when he didn’t immediately respond. Or, more likely, had panicked more. Not that Lloyd could blame him. The fact that he was the only one who had been invited to go on this victory tour already hurt enough without the added guilt of not being there for his family when they needed him. He’d been attending a ceremony in a town he had never heard of before when Jay had first started texting him. He hadn’t even heard his phone go off, hadn’t seen the messages until much later. Of course, he had immediately summoned his golden dragon and headed for Ninjago City when he did see them, but that didn’t change the fact that he should’ve been there all along. So he did what any reasonable person would do and stopped for something with which to bribe-and-or cheer up his siblings with before heading to the hospital itself.  

The cashier of the little gas station Lloyd had stopped at finished ringing up his purchase with a yawn. The green ninja pocketed his phone and paid for the assortment of candy and frosted sugar cookies, along with the little stuffed narwhal he couldn’t bear to leave behind, wondering if Kai was ever going to get back to him with more details. The radio silence was a bit concerning; he wanted to know what to expect before he arrived at the hospital. If things were bad as bad as Jay made them out to be, if Nya was dying or something… but surely he was just being overdramatic… right? His pocket buzzed as he stepped out onto the empty sidewalk. A lone car drove by. A cat meowed in the distance. Lloyd glanced at his phone once more, unable to handle the suspense.  

Kai: She’s out of surgery and recovering now. Visiting hours are over, but I’m sure she’d love to see you. Rm 246. Eastern wing.  

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the message. Nya wasn’t dead after all. That was promising. Now he just had to find his way to the hospital. According to the GPS app on his phone, it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes away. Lloyd summoned his golden dragon and shot into the sky once more. It was much easier to navigate when one could simply fly over the houses and buildings that lined the streets of the city. He flew towards the hospital, his phone blaring warnings at him as it tried to keep up with his unusual route. Make a U-turn when possible, it beeped every so often. But he ignored it. Soon, his destination loomed in the distance.

Lloyd circled the building until he was on the correct side. Kai hadn’t given him any suggestions on how exactly he was supposed to get inside without the nursing staff kicking him out. Even the Green Ninja would be expected to adhere to hospital regulations. Had he assumed that Lloyd would just sneak in somehow? He absent-mindedly scanned the windows of the hospital while he tried to decide what to do next. And then he saw it; someone had taped what appeared to be a green piece of paper onto one of the panes. Kai did want him to sneak in, apparently. He flew closer so that he could examine the window more carefully. It was cracked open slightly. Shaking his head at his brother’s questionable plan, Lloyd opened the window the rest of the way. Being that it was some time after 11:00, the hospital room was pitch black. He stumbled as he climbed inside, unable to see clearly.

“Well, now… which of my idiot siblings decided to add breaking and entering to their list of crimes against humanity?” Lloyd heard Nya murmur sleepily. He froze.

“It’s um, Lloyd.” he replied. There was a small click and a dim light turned on.

“Lloyd? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off on your victory tour…” she began to protest, now that she could see that the intruder was in fact who he said he was. “Did Kai put you up to this?”

“In his defense, there’s no way to prove that window was left open intentionally.” Lloyd pointed out, with a small smile. He made his way over to her bed and sat in the empty chair next to it. She rolled her eyes, but returned his smile with a tired one of her own.  

“It is good to see you.” Nya admitted, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at the grocery bags he was sporting.  

“It’s good to see you, too. Oh, here. Got something for you!” he pulled out the stuffed narwhal and set it on the bed next to her.  

“You know, you might just be my favorite person ever.” Nya decided, examining it. She hugged it close, looking years younger than she actually was.  

“You mean I wasn’t already?” Lloyd pretended to be offended. She stuck her tongue out at him.  

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” she retorted with a laugh. Although she was clearly trying to hide it, he couldn’t help but notice her wincing as she did so.  

“So, what happened?” he asked eventually, “I had my phone on silent for a few hours and when I finally had a chance to check it, Jay was acting like you were dying…”

“Ehhh turns out that it wasn’t super bad cramps that had been bugging me all day; it was appendicitis,” stated Nya, sounding as though she were tired of having to explain this, “Everyone overreacted. I’m fine, I swear. It’s not a big deal-”

“Not a big deal, huh? You scare me sometimes, Nya.” Lloyd muttered. He shook his head in bemusement.

“Hm?”  

“I don’t think anyone else could be in that much pain and think ‘yeah, this is fine’.” he explained, wondering how on earth she had lasted more than a few hours before finally succumbing to the pain.  

“Says the boy who walked off a broken leg.” she said pointedly.

“That’s different. I only did that because I was more worried about how I was going to fight my father.” he reminded her. There really hadn’t been another option. Well, aside from giving up and dying, he supposed. Nya didn’t seem to think this was a very convincing argument.  

“And I was more worried about getting today’s worksheets graded so I could figure out how to put the kibosh on all the cheating that’s been happening lately.” she told him without missing a beat. Lloyd raised an eyebrow and asked,

“That bad?”

Nya nodded and made a face.

“Honestly. And if it’s not cheating, it’s weird drawings. Oh, if I was gonna be the first member of the group to be hospitalized, why count it have been for something exciting?” she complained. He chose not to point out that her definition of exciting probably differed from most other people’s. Or that there had been plenty of times that Kai, Jay, and even Cole should have ended up in the hospital, but didn’t.  

“For the record, when we agreed to having lots of adventures, this isn’t what I pictured.” Lloyd offered wryly. He thought back to his first night on the Destiny’s Bounty. Things had been so different, then. Neither of them had known what the future held.

“Well, it’s good to know you haven’t been plotting against me this whole time.” teased Nya, biting back a yawn. He could tell her energy was beginning to wane.  

“Maybe I should let you sleep… sounds like it’s been a really long day for you.” he suggested. Now that he knew she was okay, he wanted her to stay that way. And that meant cutting their reunion short so she could get some rest.  

“Unfortunately, you’re right… It definitely has,” she agreed, “But Lloyd? Thank you. For coming. I’ve missed you.”

“Of course, Nya. It turns out traveling around Ninjago like this gets pretty lonely after awhile...” said Lloyd, wishing he’d been able to visit sooner. He missed being able to see his family whenever he wanted. Missed being a part of the action. Nya nodded sagely.  

“I’m sure it does. You got a place to stay, or should we call Kai to come pick you up?”  

“Let’s call Kai. I… didn’t exactly plan out what was gonna happen after I got here.” he admitted. He pulled out his phone.  

“I guess you don’t know how long you’re staying, then?” she asked, seeming a little disappointed. Lloyd shrugged. Oh, how he wanted to give up his victory tour and stay as long as he liked. But somehow, he doubted his uncle or the people of Ninjago would think very highly of him evading his commitments like that.  

“I dunno. I guess it couldn’t hurt to stay a few days. Just to make sure you’re okay?” he answered after a moments consideration. It would take a bunch of phone calls and rearranging of his schedule tomorrow morning, but it was doable. After all, now that he was here, there was no point in leaving too quickly. Staying the weekend would give him plenty of time catch up with Kai and the others. The more he thought about his decision, the more certain Lloyd became that it was the right call. The feeling of homesickness he’d been fighting since leaving his family was already beginning to fade away as he realized just how badly he’d needed to be home again.

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 25 | Chapter 27 | AO3 link

“That was a rough one today,” Ladybug says when she, Chat Noir, and Rena Rouge are sprawled in a circle on a rooftop after their post-akuma evening catch-up, on their backs with their heads up against each other.

“Yeah,” Rena Rouge says. “A kissing zombie? And here I thought Chloé was trying to be better rather than ruining birthday gifts and getting our teacher akumatised. She went to Marinette’s party, for god’s sake, and she hates Marinette.”

“Maybe she just relapsed?” Chat Noir says. “I know it can be hard to move past stuff that’s so…well, force of habit. And she’s had a bit of a rough family life.”

“That’s still no excuse,” Ladybug says. “A friend of mine has also had a rough family life and he’s one of the sweetest people I know. But…maybe Chloé does need support. Not coddling, but just enough support to keep her on the right track.”

“Maybe Adrien?” Chat Noir says. “I’ve heard they were good friends.”

“Especially not Adrien,” Rena Rouge says immediately.

“From what I’ve heard, he broke off their friendship to force her to change,” Ladybug agrees. “If he gives her an inch, she could take a mile and then decide not to change at all.”

“He’d essentially be rewarding her for bad behaviour,” Rena Rouge says.

“I know, I know…” Chat Noir sighs. “Just…I see a lot of myself in her, is all. My home life is rough too. I think the last time my father looked in my direction was, uh…huh. Actually, I can’t remember.”

“That’s sad,” Rena Rouge says. “Ladybug, can we adopt him? Pretty please?”

“Not that I wouldn’t be bi cat mothers with you if given the chance, but I think people would notice,” Ladybug says with a little laugh.

“Oh, please let me be adopted by gorgeous bi mums who could kick my arse,” Chat Noir pleads.

“I’m technically pan but seconded,” Rena Rouge says immediately. “Motion passed. Sucks to be Nino, but he knows that Ladybug’s at the top of my freebie list.”

“Freebie list?” Chat Noir says.

“You’ve never heard of a freebie list?” Ladybug says.

“Oh, you poor, sheltered child,” Rena Rouge says. “The heart of every healthy relationship is honesty, respect, and sex with celebrities.”

“If you just quoted Friends at me, I will actually take your Miraculous back and give it to someone else,” Ladybug says.

“Do that and you’ll drop to number two on my freebie list.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“It’d be nice if someone would tell me what a freebie list is,” Chat Noir says.

“It’s a list of five celebrities that you’re allowed to sleep with if you, for some reason, managed to have the chance,” Ladybug says. “And it’s not considered cheating – they’re “freebies”.”

“…That’s a thing?”

“Probably not,” Rena Rouge says cheerfully. “It’s probably just a joke. But Nino’s agreed that I’m perfectly fine to do Ladybug so long as he gets to do Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir splutters, and Ladybug’s forced to cover her mouth to muffle the giggles that suddenly wrack her body, although that doesn’t help since Chat Noir and Rena Rouge can probably still feel her laughter through where their heads are all in contact.

“Who’s at the top of your list, guys?” Rena Rouge says. “Come on, I shared mine and Nino’s with you, so you have to do the same!”

“I didn’t agree to this!” Ladybug says.

“Does Ladybug count as a celebrity?” Chat Noir says in a slightly high-pitched voice.

“Nope,” Rena Rouge says. “You guys don’t count for each other. Come on, out with it!”

“Oh, fine,” Ladybug huffs. “The celebrity at the top of my list is…Clara Nightingale. She was my bi awakening.”

“Oooh, really?” Rena Rouge says. “Can’t say you’ve got bad taste! Who’s yours, alley cat?”

“I don’t know!” Chat Noir says. “I haven’t exactly given this much thought!”

“Fine, fine,” Rena Rouge says. “Like the merciful fox I am, I’ll let you think about it. But I do expect an answer next time.”

“How generous of you,” Chat Noir says dryly. No one says anything after that, instead basking in the silence of the Parisian night, with the sounds of the city almost a backdrop to their little superhero bubble on the rooftop.

“Sorry I got caught by the zombies as Alya, by the way,” Rena Rouge eventually says. “Wish I could’ve gotten away to transform.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” Chat Noir says. “I got smooched as well.”

“Yeah, sacrificing yourself for Ladybug so she could beat on Zombizou,” Rena Rouge grumbles. “Not ‘cause you were careless.”

“It’s only your second akuma as Rena, and you weren’t even transformed,” Ladybug says. “Chat and I made so many mistakes when we first started.”

“Speak fur yourself,” Chat Noir says. “I’m purrfect.”

Ladybug and Rena Rouge groan at the night sky.

“Don’t make me pull out all the embarrassing stories I’ve got of you from when we were rookies,” Ladybug says. “Like that time when we were facing El Mago and you –”

“Okay, okay!” Chat Noir hastens to say. “You’ve made your point, milady, brutal as you are.”

Rena Rouge snickers. “God, I still can’t believe I actually get to hear your banter like this.”

“It’s really not that great,” Ladybug says. “When you’ve heard one cat pun, you’ve heard them all.”

“Meowch,” Chat Noir says. “You wound me, bugaboo.”

“Tragic,” Ladybug deadpans. There’s a sigh and then Rena Rouge’s presence disappears as she pushes herself to sit up. A moment later, the soft sound of flute music fills the night air.

“A serenade? So I can woo my lady?” Chat Noir says. “You shouldn’t have!”

“You wish,” Ladybug says, even though her traitorous heart skips a beat at the thought of Chat Noir wooing her. Not that he knows she’s Marinette, so she can’t exactly come out and say that oops, she’s changed her mind, she’d very much like for him to pursue her. Or purrsue, as he’d say.

Goddammit, now he’s even got her punning.

For a few moments, there’s silence while Ladybug and Chat Noir listen to Rena Rouge’s song, which is just so tantalisingly familiar – what is it? When the realisation hits Ladybug, she bolts upright and turns to narrow her eyes at Rena Rouge.

“Are you playing the Mario theme song?” Ladybug says. Rena Rouge smiles as innocently as she can while still playing her flute.

“Oh my god,” Chat Noir cackles as he shoots up too. “Ladybug, you can’t call me a dork anymore. I’ve never played Mario on my baton before!”

“I’m sure you would if you could,” Ladybug mutters.

Rena Rouge plays a little longer before lowering her flute and allowing the last few notes to fade into the night air. Then she groans and pushes herself to her feet.

“As fun as it’s been hanging out with you two,” she says, “I gotta get back home before I have to start bribing Nora for looking after Ella and Etta.”

“If you ever can’t make it to a battle or a patrol, don’t force yourself,” Ladybug says as Chat Noir stands up and offers her his hand, and she accepts it with warm cheeks. “Your support’s really appreciated, but we know you’ve got responsibilities of your own.”

“And you two don’t?” Rena Rouge says.

“Of course we do,” Chat Noir says, then winks. “But not everyone can be as ameowzing as me and my lady.”

“What he means is that Paris has always been our responsibility,” Ladybug says, elbowing him for his pun. “Not that we don’t appreciate your help.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Rena Rouge says. “I’m the wing-woman for Ladynoir.”

“Stop calling us that!” Ladybug huffs, while Chat Noir shoots Rena Rouge a shit-eating grin. Rena Rouge smirks and salutes back.

“You know, we should totally have a group chat or something,” she says. “In case we need to get in touch for this kind of thing, since we can’t call each other when we’re not transformed.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure giving out our numbers or getting a second phone is a recipe for disaster,” Ladybug says. Rena Rouge rolls her eyes.

“Who do you take me for, LB?” she says. “I was thinking of a group chat app where you can sign up with an email or something. Just make up an email specifically for that, no phone number required.”

“It would make things easier,” Chat Noir says. “Like if we need to tell Rena to stay out of the fight or join in, rather than trying to signal her and praying that others don’t see like when Lila was akumatised. And especially if one of us is stuck as a civilian, so we’re not cussing our partner in our head.”

“Yeah, I had a few explosive thoughts when you were late to Riposte,” Ladybug admits.

“I knew you’d bow to my superior intellect,” Chat Noir says with a smug grin.

“Is he like this every time he’s right about something?” Rena Rouge says with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep,” Ladybug says. “Why do you think I never let him be right?”

“This is bullying, and I won’t stand for it,” Chat Noir huffs. In response, Ladybug leans over to flick his bell and then desperately prays that he can’t see the way her cheeks undoubtedly flush as they grow warm.

“I’ll work on getting it set up, okay, guys?” Rena Rouge says. “Just make up a burner email and give them to me next time and I’ll work my magic.” She squeals and claps her hands. “I get to be in a group chat with Ladybug! Oh, I’ve got so many memes to share!”

“This isn’t for fun,” Ladybug says, although she does have to admit that the thought of being able to chat with Chat Noir and Rena Rouge as Ladybug while outside the mask is quite appealing. And if it means cutting down on miscommunications, well, it couldn’t hurt to try it.

“Sure, sure,” Rena Rouge says. “Peace out, guys!” Then she’s bounding over to the next rooftop and racing through Paris, the orange of her suit soon melding with the orange of the streetlights.

“We should get going as well,” Ladybug says.

“Wait…Ladybug?” Chat Noir says in a small voice before Ladybug can throw her yo-yo. When she turns, it’s to the uncharacteristic sight of Chat Noir with his fake ears flat on his head and his eyes trained on the rooftop beneath their feet.

“Kitty? What’s wrong?” Ladybug reties her yo-yo and places a hand on Chat Noir’s shoulder.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just…if you don’t have to be anywhere…do you think we could talk?”

“Of course!” Ladybug says and immediately pulls Chat Noir to sit back down with her. “You know I’m always here to listen, Chat. You’re my partner and my best friend.”

Chat Noir’s attempt at a smile is wobbly, but it’s still a smile. “You know that girl? Marinette? The one I’m friends with?”

“Did something happen with her?” Ladybug says as her heart jolts in her chest. Had she somehow upset Chat Noir? What could she have done?

“No, no,” Chat Noir says. “It’s just…I know you said it was okay for us to be friends. But…I want more, Ladybug. I think – no, I know I’m in love with her.”

“Does she know?” Ladybug prays that Chat Noir doesn’t notice the strange lilt in her voice. Thankfully, he seems to miss it.

“Yeah,” he says. “We’ve told each other. And I said I’d wait for her to be okay with it, but that’s not why I’m stressing.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Why are you asking me that?” Chat Noir says. “You’re the one who’s all about secret identities!” He winces. “Shit. Sorry, that came out really rude –”

“No, no, I get what you meant,” Ladybug says quickly. “You’re fine, Chat. Why do you think I’d have a problem?”

“Because being friends with her is one thing,” Chat Noir says. “But being with her? What if that’s crossing the line, since she’s a civilian and I’m a superhero?”

Ladybug sighs. She looks down at the rooftop for a moment, gathering her thoughts, before she once more meets Chat Noir’s gaze. “I think so long as you’re careful, it’ll work,” she says. “Sure, it means that you can’t just whisk her from her balcony and take her for a stroll through Paris, but…Hawkmoth’s taken so much from us, you know? He’s taken our innocence. He’s taken our normal lives. And I don’t regret being Ladybug for a single second, but…we can’t let Hawkmoth make us afraid to live our lives. That means that he’s winning.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I almost wish she wanted to be with my civilian self,” Chat Noir says. “Just for the simplicity, you know? But she loves Chat Noir, so I couldn’t just go up to her as a civilian because our identities have to remain a secret.”

“It’s tough,” Ladybug agrees. God, what would Chat Noir think if he knew he was talking to Marinette right now? “But I don’t think you should have to sacrifice your happiness. That’s…something I’ve been learning.”

“Does that mean we can finally tell each other who we are?” Chat Noir says with an innocent little smile. God help Ladybug, she’s so weak for that smile.

“Keep dreaming, kitty,” she says and nudges him. “It’s not time for you to take the clown suit off just yet.”

Chat Noir huffs at her clown comment. “There’s also…” He falls silent and bites his lip. “There’s also another person. A boy. And I like him as well. But I love Marinette, and I want to be with her, but I don’t want to mess with her –”

“I think this is a conversation you should have with Marinette,” Ladybug says quickly. Chat Noir has the same problem as her? Jesus, what even is this world? “But for the record, it’s totally okay to have feelings for more than one person.”

“Really?” Chat Noir’s eyes are wide. “I’m not…cheating on Marinette by liking this other boy too?”

“I had a good talk with a new friend the other day,” Ladybug says. “She told me about polyamory – you know, being with more than one person at a time. I’m not saying that’s what you should or shouldn’t do…more just letting you know that you don’t have to kill yourself over trying to pick one person. That talk was a weight off my shoulders, let me tell you. And even if you’re not polyamorous, it’s still valid to have feelings for more than one person, so long as you’re honest and open.”

“Wait, you’re in love with two people as well?” Chat Noir stuffs his fist into his mouth to muffle his laughter, though he utterly fails and is rewarded with a glare and twitching lips from Ladybug. “My god, we really are soulmates, bugaboo.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ladybug says. “Just be completely open and honest with Marinette and you’ll be fine, whatever you decide. That’s what this friend told me. And…I kind of get where she’s coming from? It’s not so much my partner being with someone else that upsets me when I think about cheating, more the sneaking and lying and breach of trust.”

“You should start charging for this,” Chat Noir grins. “People would kill to come and get advice from Ladybug.”

“Go, kitty.” Ladybug points out at the sea of lights that makes up Paris at nighttime.

“I see how it is,” Chat Noir declares as he jumps to his feet and helps her up. But then he sobers. “Thanks, Ladybug. Knowing that you’ve got my back like this…”

“Of course,” Ladybug grins. “What are partners for?”

Chat Noir grins back at her. “I think I’ll talk to Marinette and pick just her for now and see how we go. If I end up really liking this other boy then we can talk again, but…I just want to keep things simple.”

“That’s probably best,” Ladybug agrees, blatantly ignoring the way her heart flutters and leaps at the knowledge that Chat Noir’s choosing her and is going to talk to her soon. “One relationship is enough work, especially a new one. Good luck with Marinette!”

“Thanks, LB!” Chat Noir calls after her as she tosses her yo-yo and swings away. Ladybug waves back over her shoulder.

Her route home takes her past Le Grand Paris, its windows lit up against the darkness, but there’s also a light shining on a balcony that illuminates a yellow figure on a white seat who’s staring down at their hands. Ladybug pauses on the edge of the roof she’s standing on, ready to leap off again, and she realises that the yellow figure is…Chloé.

God help me, but…

[gracie-p8-officialblog]

Spilling Tea On Phantom of the Opera 2004

DISCLAIMER: I just want to say from the start that it is not my intention to offendanyone, you're entitled to your opinions and I'm allowed to have mine...

Ok, so, I just watched this movie a few days ago on my laptop and it was pretty much my first time sitting through the movie. I watched a few clips of the movie on YouTube but... Then, I decided to watch the whole movie. And this was my reaction.

Don't get me wrong! There WERE parts I liked but... That was just half of the movie... But overall... Um... It was meh. Ahem. Down to business!

My opinion on Gerard Butler as the Phantom? Um, wow. And not in a good way. I feel like this was a case of a talented performer being grossly miscast as the Phantom. I think this Tumblr post best describes on what I thought of his singing.

"He's supposed to have the voice of an angel, but it sounds like he's been gargling vinegar" ~Quoted by @faded-florals

Don't get me wrong. His voice is quite good for an untrained singer but... The Phantom is one of the biggest musical theatre roles of all time! It's right up there with Jean Valjean. It's really not a role that could go a competent singer, someone who's never sang professionally before but could be good once they've been trained up a bit. The role demands a truly great singer... And he wasn't right for the part.

His voice felt too strainy, growly and rock-ish for the Phantom. I didn't like how Joel Schumacher bought into the whole "sexy Phantom" thing and cast a hunky heart-throb, who was nowhere near disfigured enough. It's meant to be a gothic thriller novel with a small romantic subplot, not a B-grade vampire romance movie!

As for Emmy Rossum as Miss Christine Daae... it's true, her voice is good. She should know though, should she wish to excel, she has MUCH still to learn (Heeeeehee. Sorry. Couldn't resist.)

Emmy's Christine had little-to-no character growth and personality but I don't think it reflects her as an actress, but reflects more on the director and casting director because of how young she was (but more on that later)

Not only that, her Christine was SIGNIFICANTLY dumbed down and oversexualized. I mean, the entire point of the story is that Christine grows strong enough to overcome the trauma of an abusive relationship and make sure that her abuser never hurts anyone ever again but still shows the Phantom compassion and sympathy. I mean, her story arc is her becoming strong-willed enough to overcome the Phantom's pull/spell/enchantment/hypnosis or whatever you percieve it as on her! And don't get me started on her costumes because of the SEVERE lack of modesty.

The chemistry was a little flat because she was underage and her two male love interests were both in their 30s (which totally isn't HER fault, of course, but the directors could easily have cast someone else older)

Her voice, too, strikes me as being much too young and undeveloped. She has a very pretty, sweet-sounding quality to her singing but she doesn't sound rich and operatic enough to be a convincing Christine. Rebecca Caine and Amy Manford do the best job of singing the way I think Christine ought to sound- a maturing opera voice! Though POTO is NOT an opera (you wouldn't believe how many people actually think it is...), it does revolve around opera, and Christine is an opera singer, not a pop star.

And now onto... Everyone's favourite vicomte!!!!!!

C'mon people, put your bottles down. It is a truth universally acknowledged (or at least in the wee Raoul Defense Squad Circle) that Raoul is one of the greatest and most underrated boyfriends to ever exist in musical theatre and it's almost impossible to hate him because of how relatable he is.

Ladies, puh-leeze. He's much more relatable than you admit and face it, we all have a little bit of Raoul in us. Failure to see things staring us in the face, saying or doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, having a 'see it to believe it' attitude when we have little-to-no evidence on something... yeah, don't pretend you don't see a trend. Raoul is relatable whether we want him to be or not.

My thoughts on Patrick Wilson as Raoul, he was one of the few redeeming qualities of this not so great movie. Yeah, the swordfight and Tarzan leaps were a little too much but can you blame him?! And though I feel like that foppish wig made him look more like a magic elf prince than a vicomte, he couldn't control that!

His Raoul was so gentle and caring! Yeah, his acting was a bit stiff but at least his voice wasn't a chore to listen to, it has this warm, tender, comforting quality to it which suits Raoul. I really loved the way he sang "Don't throw away your life for my sake" and "I fought so hard to free you" in the Final Lair (😭😭😭) It feels like Raoul is genuinely apologising to Christine.

I know, I know... The Hadley Fraser fans are approaching with menacing expressions as we speak but let me clarify. I still think Hadley is amazing but... His Raoul kinda felt a little too shouty for me and his Raoul was closer to the LND-canon than POTO-canon (not his fault though).

Miranda Richardson (aka. Rita Skeeter) as Madame Giry is kind of weird. I mean, I know Madame Giry's supposed to be a little Strange and Mysterious. But this Mme. wasn't really Strange or Mysterious at all, or even slightly Spooky at all. She was just kind of an oddball. Popping up in random places to give warnings about the Phantom and looking at people as if she were questioning their life choices or something. As for her daughter... well, Jennifer Ellison's Meg was so-so. She's got a sweet-sounding voice and that added scene where she looked for Christine in the lair was a nice touch... But... Her Meg was kinda forgettable and uninteresting. Meg is supposed to prance around shrieking that the Phantom of the Opera is here, not whisper it in a blase manner that you half expect to be followed up with, "by the way, what's for lunch?" Not to mention, she rivaled Christine as far as low-necked costumes went.

Minnie Driver as Carlotta was spot on! Yes, I know she didn't sing the score but her acting was alright. She was very over-the-top and self-centered, which is great for Carlotta, but I felt her portrayal was a little too childish to be accurate. Carlotta is a successful middle-aged diva who's willing to scream and storm when she doesn't get her way, but she isn't a two-year-old pouting and throwing tantrums. (Yes, there's a difference.)

Ciaran Hinds and Simon Callow played Firmin and Andre, respectively. Their managers kinda felt like twits and nothing more. Also, Firmin's masquerade costume was ridiculous. The stupid kind, not the funny kind. ...Well, okay, it was a little funny.

I'm not going to touch on every song here, but I will say that "Hannibal" was beyond awful (if you thought the costumes in the stage version were a bit risque, you should see the movie ones- no, actually you shouldn't) and that "Think of Me," while very nice, was not particularly memorable. Christine's dress, however (despite its less-than-ideal neckline) was GORGEOUS, even though it looks completely out of place in a musical that supposedly takes place in ancient Alexandria.

"Little Lotte" kinda lost its charm by being spoken instead of sung. And Gerard Butler's voice in "The Mirror" was too rough and raspy for my ears and made me cringe in sympathetic shame. The title song was like a cheesy, campy B-grade horror movie tbh, trying way too hard to be spooky and chilling ("ooh, look, Phantom's Lair! It's DARK and SCARY down here!") and succeeding only in being cringeworthy. Not that I've actually ever seen a bad horror movie- or any horror movie at all, for that matter. Unless you count this one.

Christine's costume, too, annoyed me no end. She was basically wearing a corset and drawers under the dressing gown. *facepalm* The dressing gown is supposed to go OVER your COSTUME to keep it CLEAN, peeps. It's not a BATHROBE. And the amount of eye makeup she had on would terrify a raccoon. Yikes.

Though I liked the random horse because of its nod to the Leroux novel.

"Music of the Night" was so blah-slash-touchy-feely that it made me summarily uncomfortable.

I'd like to be able to say something nice about "I remember/Stranger than you dreamt it" but I have none. One thing that bugged me to no end was how Christine is no longer wearing stockings, like dude, that gives some GROSS implications. Anyways, let's skip to Il Muto!

Oh, but first I should say that "Notes" was rather a flop and that "Prima Donna" is unmemorable and indeed should probably be fast-forwarded as there's a rather unsavory bit involving a crew member showing the audience what he thinks of Carlotta's behaviour.

"Il Muto," I must say, was pretty doggone funny. Carlotta's "Your part is silent. Leetle toad," cracked me up into a bunch of giggling little pieces, and the little vignette of the Phantom tinkering with Carlotta's throat spray made her croaking later on a lot more believable.

Now for "All I Ask Of You", SQUEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! I honestly can't understand how anyone could listen to this song and still maintain that Christine and Raoul don't belong together. He represents everything she needs- stability, protection, a guiding hand and affirmed affection. She represents everything he needs, in turn- someone to show affection to and his childhood friend.

One thing I definitely think could have been left out was the scene in which Erik kills Buquet- we totally did not need to see him being chased, terrified, through the rafters and finally strangled. Gross.

And the Phantom and his rose crouching behind that statue... I think this was supposed to be sad, but there was too much snot mixed with tears for it to be sad. It was, again, gross. So was Gerard Butler's pathetic attempt at the "all that the Phantom asked of you" line. And the lack of a chandelier crash in that scene made the song anticlimactic.

And "Masquerade" was so-so but... The Phantom's entrance is anticlimactic somehow, and his Red Death costume (if indeed it's supposed to even BE the Red Death) is unimpressive. I don't like how Raoul just runs off to desert Christine as soon as things start looking ugly (yes, I realize he was going to get his sword, but still... something could have happened to her while he was gone. Duh, did this guy learn anything from "Little Lotte/The Mirror"? Just sayin)

As for Madame Giry's flashback immediately following, I like how it gives us some of the Phantom's backstory, but it seems really abrupt. You don't even realize until she's done that she was talking to Raoul the whole time- it sounds like she's just randomly reminiscing about Stuff, and if you didn't know the story you might be sitting there thinking, "who is this strange woman again?"

Also, Christine leaving wherever-it-is at, like, five in the morning to go to who-knows-where, completely oblivious to the fact that the Phantom is driving her. Whaaaaaaaaa? How'd he know she was planning to go for a graveyard stroll? Was he watching her through the mirror again? THAT'S JUST CREEPY.

"Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" was rather mediocre and dulled down the fact that it is a Christine Empowerment™ song. Why, exactly, does Christine's father have the biggest monument in the cemetery? If he were a rich and famous violinist as his crypt seems to suggest, why on earth was his daughter struggling along as a chorus girl taking free music lessons?

The swordfight... Well... I had mixed feelings about it. Sword fights are all well and good, but... The swordfight takes away the element of mysterious danger to the Phantom. Okay, fine, Christine getting Raoul to spare the Phantom's life is a nice touch, I guess, but did it strike no one else that his "now let it be war upon you BOTH" makes absolutely NO sense after that? If she just saved his life, why would he suddenly be all, "thanks, but no thanks, I'M GOING TO MURDER YOUUUUUUUUUU"?

And "Twisted Every Way" was after "Wishing" which made ZERO sense. Plus, I didn't like how they cut most of it because in the musical, it gave Christine a spine!

"Point of No Return"? Hooooooo boy....... There are so many things wrong with this number. Let's just a list a few.

*HOW did no one recognise the Phantom through his "disguise"?! At least in the stage play, it made more sense because of how he was wearing a cloak that obscured most of his body.

*Christine's sleeves falling down over and over again were REALLY annoying.

*It was just too touchy-feely for my taste.

*The fact that Emmy Rossum was a teenager during filming made this scene gross because of the way they oversexualized Christine in this scene.

*Gerard Butler's voice in that scene made me cringe and shake my head in sympathetic shame.

*In the stage play, Christine ran from him, showing her own agenda and resistance to his pull! While in the movie, she didn't resist him!

*Now for the one that took the cake... The disfigurement! Or it would be a disfigurement if it actually made him look, y'know, deformed. Instead, as several people have put it, he looks like he got a bad sunburn or something. It's really rather pathetic. It makes him look more like a drama queen than he already is! Yeah.... I really don't like this movie.

On to... Final Lair!!!!!!!! It was a flop. From Raoul's whining and flailing around and his stringy hair flopping about (shallow complaint, I know, but it's so ugly) to Christine's sappy melodramatic "don't make me choooooooose" faces to the Phantom's prancing around with his ropes and maniacal laughter that somehow wasn't really scary at all... yeah, it was a flop. A major, major flop. And though The Kiss wasn't all that bad, all I could think of was, "She's SIXTEEN! SIX! TEEN! THIS IS CREEPY, DISTURBING AND GROSS!"

Which is why it's so difficult for me to admit that, um, I... cried at the end.

I COULDN'T HELP IT GUYS HE WAS ALL ALONE THERE IN HIS LAKE WITH HIS MONKEY AND HIS SMASHED MIRRORS AND HE WAS CRYING AND IT WAS SAD.

And then that rose on the gravestone? That single red rose? And the look on Old Raoul's face (still Patrick Wilson, by the way, under all that makeup) when he saw it and realized he wasn't the only one visiting Christine's grave? Yup, I lost it again there, too. And I really didn't want to. Because I tend to cry over movies I love, y'know? And I didn't love this movie. At all

Yet I still cried at the end. I'm not really sure why. I think perhaps it had something to do with the way the story still "got" me, deep down inside, despite the lousy casting and less-than-perfect singing and ridiculously unnecessary elements that totally didn't need to be there. It's still a tragically beautiful romance, and even a bad film can't kill that.

In conclusion, I think Mary Poppins can best express what I thought of POTO 2004.

In conclusion, I rate it a 2.7/5

[immortals-malec]

Here we go, comparing the reunion scenes between Malec and everyone’s basic white ship c!ace.  Now i talked about how 3x12′s c!ace moment fell under both bad writing and zero chemistry, i decided to expand on it, by comparing how Malec nailed it and how c!ace didn’t.  So, the whole build up to the C!ace reunion from 3x10 to 3x12 is just lacking, just lacks, even though Jace believes that Clary is dead, he really doesn’t display the emotions for it, like he throws things around and yells, then goes to see Luke and suddenly believes that Clary is alive, this part falls on the writing and zero acting skills. Because this is supposed to be an emotional thing for c!ace and yet just lacks. Meanwhile Clary tries to get back to everyone and sorta falls flat there as well, because I can’t feel anything from her on that, they kinda show it but never really just made me feel it, when writing you’re supposed to do both so that way readers/viewers can feel it, that’s what I try to nail with my writing and  with this, it’s just nothing. Barely any emotion, I felt more emotion from Luke trying to prove that she’s alive. And that’s because Isaiah can just somehow nail the littlest writing he gets.  Anyways, to Paris, now this just makes me laugh because what the hell- most romantic city in the fucking world and yet you make it so lacking. I remember this clearly- another thing is laughable, is that green screened scenes of Matt and Isaiah. *clears throat* So they confront incesty burnt toast boy and Clary, she stabs herself he runs off, and  Jace goes to her. While Luke and Alec just disappear from view.  Now, they get all touchy-touchy and shit, kiss blah blah, meanwhile Paris in the background looks fake as shit, now I don’t feel any of the emotions, it just feels like blend bread, we get lines like “can’t believe i’m holding you,’ “always wanted to take you to paris.”, about how its some how better this way? What the fuck is that.  But they fall flat because they can’t do line delivery, chemistry is off and the writing is shit.  And also we got zero, and I mean zero feel! Emotions/passion just lack, if the lines lack,  than as an actor you gotta do it on your own, Harry and Matt have done it, but Kat and D*m just didn’t do it and can’t.  In this scene they don’t even act like they’ve been apart, like I want heavy breathing, sighs of relief, hugs, PASSION, and shit you know? But none of this is there, just nothing!! Like they just did one take and were like “that’s good, that’s  a wrap on s3!”  I also expected the scene to have some sort of declare for their love, but just nothing, they kiss, touch say some random lines and that’s just it. No emotions, no passion, nothing to show that they’ve been apart for a while and he thought she was dead, gone forever.  Compare this supposedly romantic as fuck scene to the Malec reunion scenes? It looks like shit.  In 2x09, they had Malec fight, it’s a stupid reason but fuck it worked anyways, so we would’ve that trope of one thinks the other is dead and the last words they said were angry words to them. In 2x10, was an action packed episode from beginning to end (its one of my favorites) Valentine takes over the Institute, and is on his way to getting the soul sword to its full power to kill the downworld, and we have Magnus over here worried about Alec, because he most likely can’t get ahold of him, because either is phone dies or is fucked up from the circle member attacking him from behind or he has it on silent not to alert the circle members that he’s alive and trying to stop them. And Alec’s worried about Magnus too, since the soul sword will kill him. And Magnus doesn’t care what happens to him, as long as he knows Alec’s safe, and we feel their fucking emotions even though the scenes are short, just more effort was put in by writing and the actors. Magnus has got the desperate breathing, feel to him, worried about Alec, which is something that’s failed by C!ace. They’ve got the feels about being worried about the safety of the other.  So moving on the soul sword is turned on, Valentine murders half of the pack, vampires and seelies, and like ten seconds later Alec comes running in out of breath, like he most have heard what went down and saw/felt the angelic energy from the sword. (he looks way more upset by the downworlders’ deaths then some others *coughs* another time for that)  And then he remembers, that Clary was under Magnus’s protection, and she’s there but Magnus isn’t, and it hits him like a million bricks falling down on him. You can hear fear, worry in his voice when he asks “Where’s Magnus? He wasn’t here, wasn’t he?” While he looks around at the dead bodies making sure that he isn’t here, as he’s told  nobody knows where he is, the way he says “oh god” and runs out looking for Magnus?? Emotional bitch there, you felt his need to find Magnus, to make sure that he wasn’t dead, you felt the fear,  desperation, you feel it, Matt rarely gets emotional scenes but when he does, he knocks it out of the park.  Now you skip forward and it’s fucking like mid-morning, you realize Alec’s been looking for Magnus all damn night into the morning hours, he doesn’t find Magnus dead but you can still feel the fear he has, once they show him rushing out of the Institute, he’s breathing heavily, he looks like he’s on the edge of a panic attack, because Magnus, where is he, than Magnus comes running to Alec and just touches him, the look on Alec’s face seeing Magnus? *chief’s kiss* he’s so relieved and throws himself into his arms, hugging onto him so tightly. You feel their emotions, as they come back together, thinking that the other could’ve been hurt or killed.  As we get close to the declaration of their love, we get Alec trying to catch his breath as he explains how not knowing if he was alive or dead, made him more terrified than any of his missions he’s been on, and Magnus feeling the same way, and than the little breathing gasps as Alec says he loves him? Just stab my arm. Than Magnus saying he loves him too? And then the kiss, they have, where Alec keeps his eyes open to make sure that Magnus is really there, and than him closing his eyes as they rest their foreheads together, feeling so relieved as Magnus smiled and then they bury their heads into each other’s shoulders? Fucking top tier, baby.  the C!ace reunion was supposed to be like this and yet fell flat, when you’re supposed to be in the most fucking romantic city in the world, and you think that the love of your life is dead, and is suddenly alive, but you just er i can’t believe you’re here. You talk so fucking casually, meanwhile Malec’s is how it’s supposed to be Why did Malec nail that scene? Was it the director? The writing? Or Matt and Harry’s emotional acting skills? Answer is all three. Again compare that C!ace reunion to Malec’s in 3x21? Just  lacks!  In 3x21, we had that emotional cliffhanger of Alec crying as he watches the love of his life basically just leave after they got engaged (originally Alec and Maryse’s scene was supposed to be in 3x20, but got moved to 3x21), so we have Alec being all  desperate and determined to get Magnus back, even though everyone tells him it’s a lost cause because Magnus can’t come back ever. But it doesn’t stop him, he legit stays up until he passes out from lack of sleep looking for a way to get Magnus back.  Magnus is over here depressed, thinking that he will never see Alec or his family again, while looking over his engagement ring? Sobbb those emotions you feel, that lacked with C!ace at the beginning of 3b.  And then we get him wanting to become a fucking vampire just so he could be with Magnus to face down Lilith, because he thought there was no other way.  We get the scene of him getting pissed off to where he loses control over his magic because he wants to find Magnus, then the ring grounds him?? Fucking hell babyyy amazing. The reunion, Magnus looking out at Edom, to hear Alec’s voice, because at first he thinks he’s imagining it, but Alec keeps calling out his name until he reaches him, and Magnus turns around to see him there, with a relieved smile at seeing his fiance there. The way he says “Alexander” as he rushes, actually fuckin, skips to Alec until they clash into each other in hug, the way Magnus clutches onto him, Alec’s smile, as Magnus says he thought he wouldn’t see Alec again, and Alec pulling back to saying it’s only Edom, (boy is basically saying hell couldn’t stop them from b eing together) and that they weren’t gonna let him fight Lilith alone, (lets ignore Lorenzo’s ass always creepin in the background).  You got Magnus saying, if we do win, then what and Alec revealing that he’s gonna stay with Magnus in Edom, leave his whole life behind for him and the look in Magnus’s eyes as he said that? *Chief’s kiss*.  The whole time you got a beautiful sing  playing in the background and the emotions again, the way they breath and shit just they nailed it.  Basically the scenes are supposed to be the same type of scenes, and yet Malec nailed it where C!ace failed, they did the emotions where they thought the other could be dead/gone forever/they never thought they would see each other again. You felt the emotions.  Meanwhile C!ace just talks really fucking casually during their reunion scene, it’s just like???? And Kat and D*m just couldn’t feed us emotions if the script lacked it.  Lack of script handling and just unable to act out emotions made C!ace’s reunion suffer. 

[britishchick09]

Magical Tipsy Tour: A Beatles Fic

ladies and gentlemen... my first beatles fic! this idea came to me in a dream and it was so funny that i thought, “why not write it?” and thus, a new fic series was born! this took a day to write (march 17th to the 18th) and it was incredibly fun to write. enjoy my first foray into the world of beatlemania! :D

when john and ringo come home drunk af, paul and george must find a way to keep them (mostly) sober for the concert. will it work?

Paui fiddled with his guitar, a new tune flashing through his mind faster than he could play it. Through the sounds of his instrument, he heard something odd.

Silence.

George was taking a much-needed nap in the bedroom while Cynthia and Julian- John’s wife and baby son who lived in the other (much bigger and nicer) room- had recently departed for a two week long vacation. Ringo was probably doing something downstairs and John-

Where was he?

Paul frowned. With John around, the flat was rarely silent. The only blissful time was eight at night and later, when Julian went to bed (and even then it wasn’t silent sometimes).

As Paul looked around in confusion, George walked by.

“Have you seen John around?” Paul asked him.

“I dunno,” George yawned and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Went out, I think.”

“’Went out’? When?”

“What time did I crash?”

“Um… around five or so?”

“So he’s been gone that long, then.”

Paul’s eyes widened. “He’s been gone for almost five hours?”

“Oh, he has? In the words of John himself, ‘Oh shoot!’ The uncensored version, of course.”

“He better come home soon or he’ll hear the uncensored version from me.”

Not even a moment later, the door burst open.

“John!” Paul exclaimed as he rose from his chair. “There you are! Where the hell have you- Ringo?!?!”

“’Ello.” Ringo said through a chuckle.

“Were you out with him, too?” George inquired.

“Oot in a boot in Canadaaaa!”

Ringo skipped by, causing George to frown.

“Does he normally do that?” he asked.

Paul shook his head. “No, I-”

“Hello, you beautiful stranger!” John said in a high voice, cupping Paul’s face in his hands.

He kissed his mate on the lips, causing Paul’s eyes to widen in absolute shock and horror. John ran away with a laugh.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Paul blinked and took a breath to regain what little composure he had. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I need to scream.” he said quietly before rushing out of the apartment.

George walked backwards until his back touched the wall. All he could do was watch as John and Ringo skipped and chattered like madmen.

“What’s gotten into you two?” George asked them.

“Probably a girl.” Ringo said.

He and John burst out into schoolgirl-like giggles and they ran down the hallway.

Paul returned a couple minutes later and said, “If there’s anything I learned from that… ungodly kiss, it’s that-”

“John secretly loves you and is now confessing his feelings after six years of seemingly mutual friendship?” George asked.

“Oh god, I hope not! I think John’s been out drinking!”

“How do you know?”

“Does the strong taste of wine, beer and maybe whiskey on his breath tell anything?”

“What about Ringo?”

“If I had to guess, he’s probably been doing the same thing. I hope he didn’t waste himself like John, but you never know with him.”

“Is there anything we can do about-” George stopped as John let out a laugh mixed with a scream in one of the other rooms. “That?”

“All we can do is wait and-” Paul slapped a hand on his forehead. “Shoot! We have a concert tomorrow!”

“So?”

“So those mad lads will probably have massive hangovers before it starts. John especially.”

“Playing with a hangover? That’s rough.”

“It sure is. They’ll probably crash any minute now and maybe the effects will mellow down by the time of the concert. …Hopefully.”

...

 Much to Paul’s dismay, John and Ringo didn’t mellow down. The drunkards were noisy almost all night. Ringo banged on his drums while John screamed their songs, botching many of the lyrics. He was finishing ‘Twist and Shout’ when someone knocked on the door.

Paul stumbled out of the room he shared with George (and sober Ringo). He tied his robe before answering the door.

“No, I’m not giving out autographs.” he said sleepily.

“But you will settle down in here!” a woman snapped. “I can hardly sleep with all this ruckus!”

“You’re telling me,” Paul muttered with a sigh before telling the woman, “Thanks for letting me know, I’ll take care of it.”

After the woman left and Paul locked the door, he stormed into John’s room, where the drunkards were still singing away.

“Can you lads quiet down a little?” Paul asked.

John and Ringo ignored him.

“Excuse me?”

John continued to scream,

“’She loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah,

She loved me, ooh, yeah, yah,

She love meeeeeee-‘”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Paul yelled.

John stopped singing and Ringo stared at him.

“Go to bed, why don’t you?” Paul asked in a much quieter voice.

“’Mkay.” Ringo said before slamming his head on his drum set and instantly falling asleep.

John grinned at the sight of Paul and dashed over to him. “Come over here and kiss me, pretty boy!”

“I think we already did that, thanks.” Paul said, turning his face away.

John managed to kiss Paul’s cheek and giggled.

“Are you happy now?” Paul asked. “Will you finally go to bed?”

“Not until we dance the night away, if you know what I mean.” John replied, his words slurring together.

“I don’t think I want to know what that me- woah!”

Paul was swept away by John, who grabbed him and began whisking him through the room.

“Play us a tune, Rongles.” John told Ringo, who snored.

Paul noticed George standing by the doorway and reached out to him. “George, help me!”

“I’m callin’ him ‘Rongles’ now.” George said before walking away.

“Oh, for cripes’ sake! John, I-”

“Yes, I do wanna marry you!” John exclaimed. He and Paul fell onto the bed.

“Let’s kiss the bri-”

Paul jumped up and backed away. “Go to bed now.” he ordered menacingly.

He slammed the door and John simply shrugged the comment off.

George returned to bed a couple minutes later, where Paul was brooding.

“Thanks for the help, George.” he said.

“You’re quite welcome.” George replied.

Paul groaned and stuffed his face in his pillow as John’s singing started up again.

...

The next morning was full of renewed energy.

Paul, however, was not.

“Sleep well?” George asked.

Paul glared at him, putting his unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes into full view. “Does it fucking look like I fucking did?”

“…I’m gonna take that as a no, then.”

Paul ran a hand through his hair as he asked, “How are John and Ringo?”

“Ringo’s still sleeping and your boyfriend’s in the bathroom.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend.”

George smiled. “I saw your little dance last night.”

Paul rolled his eyes and went to John’s room. He peeked inside, seeing Ringo fast asleep by his drums. He gave his friend a gentle nudge.

“Wake up, Ringo. It’s morn- Ow!”

Suddenly wide awake, Ringo had sat up with a start, smacking Paul in the face with one of his drumsticks.

“The walrus was Paul all along!” Ringo exclaimed.

“…I don’t think I’m a walrus.” Paul said with a confused blink.

“What if I’m the egg man?” Ringo gasped. “Or… we’re the egg men! You think I’m the walrus? Or maybe it’s still you?”

“I… I don’t- Sure. Make me the walrus. Whatever the heck that means.”

Ringo smiled. “Oh, good! You make wonderful mashed potatoes, by the way.”

“…Thank you…? Speaking of John, do you know where he-”

“HELLO!” John yelled, busting the bathroom door open.

“Oh, dear god, here we go,” Paul muttered before turning around to face his friend. “Good morning, John! Please don’t kiss me again.”

“Why would I kiss you?” John asked. “We’re married! Married people do more than just that…”

Paul quickly walked out of the room and rushed back to the other room, John following him like a puppy. He told his drunken friend, “How about we have a nice, uh… couples breakfast together?”

He cringed somewhat at the idea of him and John as a couple, but John seemed to love it. He practically skipped to the dining area, where he and Paul shared a breakfast of eggs, toast and waffles. John tried to mimic the spaghetti scene in ‘Lady and the Tramp’ more than once, but Paul wouldn’t allow it.

“Go get dressed,” Paul told him. “I-”

“Won’t that be fun!” John exclaimed, gripping Paul’s hand.

Paul jerked his hand away. “Go get dressed with Ringo, why don’t you?”

“But he’s not my husband-”

“Yeah, and I’m not either. So go.”

John lowered his head and trudged to his room, accidentally slamming his head into the wall at one point.

Paul sighed as he asked George, “What are we gonna do about this?”

“Ringo’s alright, I suppose,” George replied. “That extra energy will make his drums better or something.”

“But what about John? We can’t have him screaming on stage.”

“What about ‘Twist and Shout’?”

“Besides that song. If he’s crazy on stage, the fans will notice and the press might spread rumors and- …Well, I don’t want to think about it past that point.”

“I’m sure he’s sober enough now. That long night could’ve tuckered him out a little.”

“Sure tuckered me out,” Paul said with a yawn. “Here’s hoping it goes well.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“The Beatles might become the Drunkles.”

George chuckled at the funny name and smoothed out Paul’s messy hair. “Everything will be alright, Paul. You’ll see.”

...

The concert took place a couple hours later. During the ride there, the driver gave Paul and John funny looks. John kept snuggling up to Paul and fiddling with his hair. Paul ignored it for the most part and kept his gaze out the window, stopping to give John a glare when he pulled too hard.

“They say when a gal pulls a guy’s hair, it means he likes her.” John said in a mix of his usual and high voice.

“…I think it’s the opposite.” George commented quietly.

“It is,” Paul said. “And thank you for that, John. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome, hubby!” John said, receiving another look from the driver.

They soon arrived at the venue.

“Oh god,” Paul muttered before saying, “Here we go. You ready, lads?”

“Readier than Canadaaaaa!” Ringo exclaimed.

“What is it with drunken you and Canada?” George quietly asked his friend.

Once the four were backstage, Paul took George aside.

“I know this is last minute-”

“Way last minute.” George said.

“-but do you have anything that might help John… relax a little?”

John was happily skipping with Ringo in a circle. Paul was glad no one from the stage crew was around to see it.

“I think so,” George looked through his suit pockets and found a pill, which he gave to Paul. “It’s supposed to relax you.”

Paul took the pill and said, “Nice one. Now I’ll just need to find some water-” He stopped as George handed him a bottle of water. “…How did you fit that inside your pockets?”

“As Ringo says, ‘tomorrow never knows’. You think that would be a good song title?”

“Yeah, it would. Speaking of Ringo, keep him at bay while I tackle John.”

“Don’t do it literally. He might think it’s-”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.” he said, giving his friend a teasing smile.

He went over to John, who gave him a big hug.

“Hello, hubby!” he said cheerfully.

“First of all, don’t call me that. Secondly, take this.” Paul handed John the pill.

“Ooh, what is it?”

“Just a relaxing pill,” Paul frowned at John’s wink. “Not for whatever the hell you’re thinking of! Take it and-”

“We’ll go out on a date? I suggest the lake- Ooh! With a rose garden and-”

“-and we’ll get the show started. I can’t guarantee the date will happen.”

The Beatles’ manager, Brian, appeared backstage a minute later.

“You’re on in five minutes,” he said. “I- Ringo, what are you doing?”

Ringo stopped hitting his head with his drumsticks. “Exercise.”

Brian looked at the others.

“It’s not really his day today.” George said softly.

Five minutes later, the announcer said, “Ladies and gentleman… The Beatles!”

Almost earsplitting screams could be heard from past the curtain.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Paul muttered with a sigh.

To his amazement, the concert went just as planned. John only got drunkenly hyper during ‘Twist and Shout’ and messed up a couple verses, but no one noticed thorough the crowd’s screams. Ringo was more energetic than usual and pounded on the drums but it also went unnoticed. Overall, the performance was a success.

“My god, we did it!” Paul exclaimed through the applause once they were all backstage.

John gave Paul a kiss on the cheek, which Paul didn’t mind this time due to his immense relief.

“What did I tell you?” George asked.

“You said everything would be alright.” Paul told him.

“And it was!”

Paul laughed. “I guess them being drunk wasn’t too bad after all!” He frowned and dodged John, who wanted to kiss him on the lips again. “…Mostly.”

...

The four kept up their joyful spirits throughout the ride back to the flat.

But that all went away as soon as John and Ringo stepped inside.

“Lads… I don’t think I feel too well.” Ringo said.

“Same here,” John agreed. “I feel like I’m gonna-”

“Don’t say it. I know, too!”

John and Ringo rushed to the bathroom.

“Who do you think is using the sink?” George asked. “Can’t brush my teeth tonight without it.”

“Probably neither. Knowing John, he’s probably using the shower,” Paul shook his head with a smile. “I’m glad this is all over with.”

“I am, too. You think John would mind if we used the bathroom in him and Cynthia’s room?”

“Probably. I’ll use it just to spite him.”

“Even though he feels awful right now?”

Paul laughed. “He deserves it after snogging me in the kisser!”

“And it sure was a snog.” George muttered to himself.

A few minutes later, Ringo groaned softly as he snuggled into a sofa pillow.

“Are you feeling alright?” George asked his friend gently.

“I feel like I went on a submarine,” Ringo replied. “It was yellow and I think we stopped at a garden with an octopus.”

George soothingly stroked Ringo’s hair. “We all feel like that sometimes, don’t we?”

On the opposite side of the living room, John was groaning loudly, one arm draped over his eyes.

“Bloody hell, what did I do last night?” he asked no one in particular.

“Um… drank three types of alcohol and danced around like a mad man?” Paul guessed.

“Four. It was four types.”

“Really? I only tasted wine, beer and whiskey. What was the other one?”

“How the fuck should I remem-” John stopped and lifted his arm. “How do you know what I had?”

“Oh… let’s just say you may or may not have kissed me for five agonizing seconds last night. And professed your drunken love to me multiple times. And genuinely thought we were married. Did I mention the kiss already?”

John’s eyes widened. “Oh god-”

He cut himself off and ran to the bathroom, his footsteps pounding on the floor.

“Nice to have things back to normal, isn’t it?” George asked with a smile.

Paul smiled back with a nod. “I have to say it sure is!”