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weirdlyhornyforegos · 2 years

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Worth it

MINORS DNI!!!! Okay, so it’s canon that the Captain is very strong right? ;3 AMAB reader/Captain with Engineer Mark!

Wordcount: 4k+

You want to fuck your head engineer, but you really shouldn’t.

You come to this conclusion one day as you’re just watching Mark go about his duties aboard the ship, talking with other crew while you wait for a report you need from him.

He’s all gentle smiles with a (mostly) sharp mind behind it, and it helps that he looks like an absolute snack, even in a beige flight suit, white turtleneck, and red beret.

"Captain?” You startle out of your thoughts, only now noticing that Mark is standing right in front of you, tablet in hand and a small frown on his face.

“Apologies, go ahead Mark.” He gives you a curious glance, but goes on to give you a brief overview of his report, before sending the full thing to your own tablet.

“Great, I’ll take a look at that in my own quarters, you’re dismissed.” Wanting to get some distance between you and him, as to perhaps avoid embarrassing yourself in any way, you quickly turn around, missing the furrow between Mark’s brow, created by your unusual abrupt dismissal of him.

In not too long you’re in your cabin, seated on the edge of your bed. You tug your gloves off and throw them and your tablet to the side, sighing as you put your head in your hands.

You have to squash whatever you’re feeling for Mark down, you can’t feel that way about him.

It’s unprofessional on so many levels, and though you would like to think that those stolen glances Mark sometimes took of you, (and that you’re certain he wouldn’t want you to notice), means something, you can’t fuck him.

Though you really want to, and you think he might feel the same.

“Fuck.”

Your door slides open just then, the computer announcing the arrival of just the man you had been thinking about.

In your hurry to get on your own, you had forgotten that the only other person with access to the captain’s quarters is Mark.

You hear the door sliding closed again, and some shuffling of feet.

“Captain, are you okay? You left rather quickly back there.”

“I’m fine, just.....” You don’t know what to say, letting the silence linger.

“Captain?” Mark asks, and you take a deep breath, looking up from your hands.

One of Mark’s arms is stretched out towards you, like he was about to touch you, but pulled back at the last second.

He looks so worried, and fucking hell, even now you can’t help but notice how good he looks. How handsome he is. How you care for him. How much you want to touch him, and have him touch you.

A few seconds go by, nothing being heard in the room except the gentle and ever present hum of the ship.

Fuck it.

Standing up abruptly, you stride forward with determination, causing Mark to back up.

His back hits one of the metal walls, and then you’re crowding into his personal space.

“Captain?!” The title is said in shock and with a tone of something you can’t quite place, and you don’t allow yourself to think about it before you are kissing him.

Mark lets out a squeak of surprise, drawing in a sharp breath as your lips press against his.

For a few painful seconds there is nothing, and then his hands are in your hair, knocking your captain's hat off in the process.

Relived as all hell, your hands come to rest on his hips as he kisses you back, eagerly pulling you against him. His beret falls to the floor, forgotten in seconds.

You lick along his bottom lip, and without hesitation his lips open, allowing you entry. His tongue comes out to meet your own, making you groan somewhere far back in your throat.

One of your hands shifts down from his hip to his thigh, then under his knee, gripping it and pulling it up so you can grind your hardening cock against his.

He moans against your mouth, rolling his hips up as well as he can, just balancing on one foot.

He keens under your touch, his hands in your hair tugging you back every time you try to end the kiss. He’s letting out small whimpers and moans, making your pants feel tighter by the second, but like this neither of you are getting enough friction.

Getting an idea, your second hand slides lower too, and with some maneuvering and the element of surprise, you have picked Mark up fully, all of his weight in your arms.

This causes him to break the kiss, winding his legs around your hips on instinct. He looks down between your bodies, moaning as your roll your hips against his once more, friction delicious, and just what you want.

“You okay with this?” You have to ask, even as you can feel his hard dick pressed against you with every roll of your hips.

“Yeah.” He’s a little breathless, and as you make eye contact with him he licks his lips. His hands have moved from your hair, one resting on your shoulder while the other plays with the hair at the nape of your neck.

You lean forward to kiss him again, capturing his lips with yours. You press him hard against the wall, causing Mark to moan into your mouth as you grind against him.

Pressed against the wall like this it is easy to get one of your hands free so you can start tugging down the zipper on his uniform.

You fumble with the zipper before Mark takes over, zipping it down to his belt without an ounce of hesitation. He shrugs out of the arms, and you find your fingers meeting bare skin on his upper arm. You move back slightly to look at him.

To your delight you discover that it’s not a proper or full turtleneck, but instead more of a tank top with a high neck.

“I don’t think that a tank top is part of the engineer’s uniform.”

“Well no, it’s not, but it can get rather hot when working on things, and sometimes sleeves get in the way so….”

“Mmhm.” You look him over, taking in how his broad chest is rising and falling with each breath, how the muscles in his arms flex as they rest on your shoulders.

“Why did you leave so abruptly earlier?” The timing of the question isn’t the best, but you don’t blame him for it.

So you decide to be honest with him.

“I was thinking about this.” Mark tilts his head, a light frown grazing his lips.

Time to be blunter.

“I was thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you, and how I really shouldn’t.”

“Oh.” A few beats where neither of you say anything. “Do you still want to?” You laugh, moving Mark to get a better grip on his thighs, your hard cock pressing against him again, making his breath hitch.

“What do you think?”

“I think I want you to fuck me.” He says it so matter of factly that it takes a few seconds for the words to catch up in your brain, and then you’re grinning. Mark huffs at you.

“What?” Your grin doesn’t fall as you ask.

“You look like the cat that just ate the canary.”

“I haven’t eaten you yet, but perhaps another time.”

“Another time?” Mark parrots, and you kiss his stubbled cheek.

“Yeah, if you’ll let me. Right now though, I just want to fuck you against this wall. You okay with that?” The answer you get is Mark pulling you in for another kiss and grinding down on you. You moan into his mouth.

Moving your hand so you’re just holding up Mark with one arm while pressing him against the wall, you start pushing at his belt. He seems to get the memo, and seconds later it falls to the floor.

This makes it so you can pull the zipper of his jumpsuit down that final little bit, and get your hand inside it, and on Mark’s cock. You press your hand against it, and Mark moans into your mouth. You stroke him through his boxers, and Mark breaks the kiss to lean his head back with a groan. You take the opportunity to kiss on the underside of his jaw, tracing the light stubble that covers it.

“I think the uniform needs an adjustment.” You murmur against Mark’s skin. You can hear him swallow as your lips dance along his neck, just on the edge of his turtleneck, your hand still on his cock.

“Oh?”

“Mhm, no more turtlenecks.” Mark laughs, and you find yourself smiling as you lean back so you can look at him.

“I’m serious, deep v-necks only from now on.” You try to scowl, to be the serious captain, but you can’t, instead starting to laugh alongside Mark.

“And I’m sure people would have no questions at all about that.”

“Oh, they would, but I’m the captain, so sometimes not everyone needs to know my reasoning. Plus, I don’t think we would want to tell them the reason is me wanting easy access to your neck and to show off what a mess I can make of your skin.” Mark flushes at your words, the hand on your neck squeezing.

“There’s one way to get easy access.” Your hand inside his flight suit stops as you wait for his idea, making him shift his hips. “Set me down, and I can get everything off.” A beat as he looks up and down at you. “And so can you.” You hum, giving him a once over as you pretend to think about it.

“I guess you got a point.” Gingerly, Mark unwinds his legs from around your waist, and with just a little help, he’s standing on two slightly unsteady feet. His flight suit immediately pools around him, and in seconds his turtleneck tank-top is wrenched over his head.

You can’t help but stare. You knew Mark looked good, but seeing it fully and not covered by his uniform is making your mouth water. You’re already thinking about where you can put your mouth next, and how you would like to map every inch of skin.

Your attention is turned back to the moment as Mark clears his throat, turning your attention upwards. He should look a little ridiculous with his flight-suit pooled around his feet, clad only in his underwear with messed up hair. But instead he only looks good, perfect even.

“Are you going to fuck me with that hot uniform on?” You blink a few times, and then your captain’s jacket joins your hat on the floor. Mark grins, and in only a few short moments you’re both naked.

Once again you crowd into Mark’s personal space and press him against the wall, but this time you’re met with a moan instead of a squeak of surprise. You put your hands on his hips as you lean in to speak in his ear.

“Jump.” He does as he’s told, and with ease you catch him, and his legs goes around your waist again. You grind against him and Mark almost seems to choke on thin air.

“Fuck, that has no right to be as hot as it is.”

“What, me being strong?” His neck now free from barriers, you take the opportunity to place kisses along it.

“You manhandling me.” Mark speaks towards the ceiling as he tilts his head to give you better access.

“It has its advantages.” You mutter against his skin right before starting to make a hickey. Mark groans, trying to move down against you as you do.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“Oh, believe me, I plan to.”

“Lube?” He pants, and you frown. You don’t want to put him down now that your hands are back on him, but fucking him dry is not an option.

Which leaves you with a bit of a conundrum.

But, you’ll manage.

You shift your hands, going back to having one hand on Mark, while the other is free, making extra sure your grip on him is solid.

“Captain?” He questions, and then you lean away from the wall, taking Mark with you. He gasps, arms and legs clinging to you for dear life.

“Holy shit.” You grin and chuckle as you slowly make your way over to your night stand. Somehow, with minimal bending of your knees you manage to get the drawer open and fish out the lube you keep there.

A few more steps, and you press Mark against the wall once more.

“You know, your bed was right there.” You hum, noising at the junction between his neck and shoulder, placing a kiss there.

“I know, but we established that we both find this hot. So now I’m going to fuck you against this wall. Understood?” It’s not really a question, because both of you know Mark’s answer, but you still feel him nod.

You hold up the bottle of lube between the two of you, waving it back and forth so Mark’s eyes fixate on it.

“Take it.” He frowns, but does as he’s told. You move your hand so your palm is upwards, fingers facing him. “Lube.” His eyes widen.

“You’re making me pour out lube for you?”

“It’s for the both of us, and I’m not making you do anything, but I’m not going to fuck you dry, sooooo...” You draw out the word, curling your fingers at him. You see him blush, and oh does that look lovely up close. Glad it's an easy one, Mark pushes the cap open with his thumb and pours lube onto your fingers and palm. He keeps the small bottle in one hand behind your neck as you grin at him and he swallows.

Your now wet hand travels between your bodies, briefly brushing against Mark’s thigh and cock, leaving a slick trail on his skin. Your hand travels down further still, fingers resting against Mark’s hole.

“Are you just going to just tease me?” Mark sounds impatient, but the effect is made almost charming as you can hear how breathless he is already, and you have barely touched him.

“Another time.” You push one finger in then, hearing Mark’s breath hitch, and seeing his eyes widen. You catch his lips with yours, wanting to feel him moan against you.

And moan he does.

For you discover to your delight that he is not one for being quiet as pleasure curses through his body with the demonstration of just what you can do with just your fingers.

You start with one, sliding it in and out of him at a slow pace as you kiss him. Feeling how he contracts around just the single digit, and knowing you will have to work him open for more.

And you are more than up to the task.

You add another when he tries to move down on your finger. You smile against his lips, and you feel him huff. You let your lips wander down the side of his neck as you adjust your grip on him, making his legs tighten around you even more.

“How in the fuck are you doing this?” He keens at the last words as you nip on his neck, thoughts already wandering to covering him in hickeys in all the places you can reach.

“I workout, and all that stuff. Worth it, don’t you think?”

“Fucking hell, yes!” He tugs at your hair with his free hand as you gently move your fingers slightly apart, accessing if he is ready for a third finger.

You decide he is, but you need more lube. So with the next move of your hand, you pull out of him completely, making him whine as you bring your hand up between you again. You shush him, and when he spots your hand, he is quick to give you more lube.

You waste no time now, thrusting three fingers inside of him seconds later. He groans, and you know it’s a bit of a stretch, but he pulls you in for a kiss, drowning his groans against your lips. Your tongue comes out to meet his, and it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate on anything else than how good he is feeling around and against you.

But, unfortunately, at least for you, your wrist is beginning to cramp.

So, you pull your fingers out of him. Using the lube that is still on your hand, you give yourself a few strokes.

Mark stops kissing you, but only to look down between your bodies. He licks his lips.

“Like what you see?” You tease. Mark looks up at you with wide eyes, nodding as he feels you line yourself up and press against his rim.

He moans as you push inside him, and you do too, loving how tight and warm he is around your cock. You don’t have to move a lot, gravity doing most of the work as Mark sinks down onto you.

As you bottom out inside of him, you hide your face in his neck. Well, it’s more to let Mark adjust to you, and moving your attention to kiss at his neck to keep yourself to fuck up into him at once.

He feels so good, and he flexes and moves against you as you start on a hickey. The lube bottle falls from his hand, sliding down your back as it falls to the floor, making you chuckle low to yourself at the feeling. Both of Mark’s hands are in your hair now.

“Fucking hell.” He’s not normally someone who swears a lot, so hearing your head engineer loosing control over his words like this, before you have even fucked him makes your cock twitch and a heat settle somewhere in your chest.

“Move.” The word is shout-whispered in your ear as Mark tugs at your hair.

Groaning, you do as he (and you) wish. Slow at first.

Just barely moving him up and down on your cock as Mark lets little noises fall from his lips. When he tries to hide them by putting a hand over his lips, you stop fucking him so you can tug it away and pin his arm for the briefest of moments. You lean back from marking his neck to look at him.

“Let me hear you.” He nods, breath labored and his hair plastered to his forehead.

Normally, you don’t keep your cabin any warmer than the rest of the ship, but now it feels at least several degrees hotter than any other room.

Even the reactor room can’t compare with how hot you feel as you fuck up into Mark, making him moan and whimper with every flex of your arms.

It gets even warmer when he starts to try to fuck himself down into your cock.

You take the hint, and speed up, your cock slipping in and out of his with wet sounds, hitting him deep every time as your quarters is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin.

You shift Mark in your hold, and that seems to send your cock into him at a new angle, as on the next thrust up he moans the loudest you have heard so far and shakes around you.

You grin against his shoulder, licking at a hickey you just made.

“That feel good?”

“Ahaaa, yes!” Mark tugs at your hair, and you find yourself kissing him as you fuck into him. It’s messy and uncoordinated, but fucking hell it’s so god damn hot you can’t find yourself to care. Not even as Mark bites your bottom lip a little too hard, making your lips bleed with the next rough trust from you.

You pull back, licking your lips in surprise, but you keep up the pace, not one to stop now. Mark grins sheepishly at you, licking his own lips as he tries to speak in-between moans.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, you can make it up to me later.” His grin isn’t sheepish any longer, instead something twinkles in his eyes as he tilts his head.

“Is that a promise?” You lean forwards to whisper into his ear

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” Mark giggles, then moans as you hit his prostate again. You grin, still tasting the slight tang of blood on your lips, but you truly don’t care.

You dive in to kiss Mark again, already forgiven him, but making plans in the back of your mind of how he can make it up to you in the future.

It should be a little embarrassing how little time it takes for you to get close, but Mark feels so good that you can’t help this.

Not wanting to break the kiss to tell him, you instead shift so you’re once more just holding Mark up with one arm and pressed against the wall. Your hand goes to his cock, tugging as you want him to come with you.

Mark seems to understand, or perhaps he is just chasing his own pleasure. He fucks into your hand as your cock slides in and out of him, and in surprisingly few tugs, he is coming all over your hand and his own stomach. You groan against his mouth as he shakes apart around your cock, the feeling of that sending you over your own edge.

You cum hard, having to break the kiss to gasp, hiding your face against his neck as you fill him up with your cum. Mark grunts, one hand pressing your head against his neck as the other grips at your shoulder.

A few moments are spent like this. Mark being filled up by you, pressed against the wall for support as you both catch your breath.

It takes Mark muttering your name, your actual name instead of your title, to make you lean back and look at him.

“I think I should get down.” You nod, grunting as you pull him off you and help him to stand. You can’t help the little laugh as he almost topple over him before you support him. He glares at you, but the effect is somewhat ruined with how fucked out he looks. Neck and shoulder covered in hickeys you made, sweaty with your cum dripping down his thighs.

“Your fault.”

“Guilty as charged.” You lead him towards the bed and he goes willingly. He sits down on the edge and you follow so you’re kneeling between his legs. Your hands dance over his thighs as you press a kiss against the side of his lips.

“We should get cleaned up soon.” You hum, shifting to kiss all over his face.

“In a little bit, now I just want to keep you close.” Mark huffs, hands coming to rest at your shoulders.

“You could get up on the bed with me, it would get you a lot closer.”

“I suppose you got a point.” You get off your knees, getting into your bed, Mark is quick to follow. He tries to settle on his side next to you, but you pull him on top of you instead.

“I don’t think I can get much closer now.”

“No you can’t, plus, this way my cum is not leaking out on the sheets.” Mark groans into your chest as one hand comes to grope at his ass.

“You!” You grin at the ceiling, and Mark shifts so he leans on one hand, most of his weight still on you.

“Me.” You answer. You go to stroke away a lock of hair, but wince as something pulls in your wrist. Mark eyes it, frowning.

“Next time I think we should be more careful of your wrist, no matter how hot that was.”

“Oh, so you’re going to do all the work next time?” He reaches his tongue out at you, but you just grin at him as you lean up to get another kiss from him. “Worth it.” You mumble against his lips, Mark just huffs at your statement.

(When Gunther asks about your iced wrist the next morning, you just say you tripped as you can see Mark ducking his head in an attempt to hide a blush.)

#engineer mark x reader #engineer!mark x reader #engineer!mark x captain #engineer mark x captain #engineer mark #engineer!mark #engineer #lemon #smut #reader insert #reader #my writing

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dru-plays-starbound · 2 years

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Winter Holidays OC Party invite

Hey Starbounders 0/

I like prepping stuff for the holidays super early, and I had a grand idea for this year's build -- a big party!

But it's going to look really lame if Mio is the only one there, and since I feel we've grown as a community:

I'd like to invite your OCs to a Winter Holiday Party!

What I want from y'all is to reblog this post with a screenshot of your character in their vanilla* iconic outfit -- for example, @when-are-we-gonna-play-squash said her character always wears a beret -- or in something they might wear to a party.

I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone's characters so they can come along and enjoy the fun.

*(I'm not downloading a tonne of clothing mods)

#starbound #starbound comunity #sbblr #starblr #I want to do a couple of gifs of the party #maybe let off some fireworks #obviously the final post will include credit to your blogs

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Event! 海街/昨日寄: Sent yesterday on Sea Street Translation (Chapter 5)

“I wish to share the belief that magic does exist to everyone, even if just for a second!”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Event story tag will be #For Light and Memories

The lights lit up as Jesse made his grand entrance with the curious eyes of the audience on him.

Jesse: Good evening, students! I have a question for everyone before the movie starts! Do you believe that magic exists in this world?

Jesse: That student over there who's shaking their head! Keep your eyes peeled for what comes next! You never know, it might just change your thoughts about magic!

Hearing how vividly charming his voice was made me mentally sigh at how he was truly born to be an actor; able to gain everyone's attention just by saying a few lines.

Meanwhile, I took advantage of this moment to infiltrate the crowd while pretending to be a server who distributed drinks to everyone...

The excitement in the venue rapidly rose as the magic show opened its curtains.

Jesse stood behind a table. He held up a plastic back that looked as normal as they came.

He showed everyone the empty interior of the plastic bag before rightening it back up and reaching his arm inside it.

Jesse: Hm? Looks like there's something here…

The audience held their breath and stretched their necks out in curiosity, trying to peer at it. Under the scrutiny of a dozen or so pairs of eyes, he pulled out a beret from within!

Jesse: I accidentally picked up someone's hat. Can the owner of this beret come to claim it?

Student A: Ah! It's my hat!

Jesse: Here you go. It's a very pretty hat.

Jesse returned the beret to the student full of smiles. She incredulously gives her beret a once over. After ensuring that it was indeed her beret, she cries out in surprise.

Student A: Wow! Is this what they call "fetching things out of thin air"!?

The audience didn't dare believe their eyes after having witnessed that. They all broke out into hushed, yet excited, chattering. And just as they were all engrossed in all the excitement, I squashed the nervousness that was slowly rising in my heart as I reached out to grab a boy's folded parasol...

Actually, I'd secretly taken that girl's beret when Jesse had gone on stage.

I hid the item under the cloth of the serving tray and handed it to Jesse as I pretended to serve him a drink. And using the table as a cover, he took the item and stuffed it into his arms. The plastic bag he used had a large opening at the back, so all he had to do was to stick his arm inside it, and he'd be able to retrieve the item hidden in his arms with ease.

I hurriedly hid the parasol beneath the serving tray and headed to the stage.

I hadn't gotten far when a loud voice sounded from below the stage.

Boy: Huh? Where's my parasol gone to?

I froze. Why did he choose now of all times to go looking for his parasol!?

The parasol within my grasp suddenly felt like a hot coal. I couldn't help but feel guilty about what I'd done, and my brain completely went blank.

Then, I saw Jesse put down his props, pick up his soda, and head straight towards me.

He pretended to place his empty soda back onto my tray while he sneakily took the parasol from me with lightning speed. He executed this with absolute smoothness. No one was alerted, no one was suspicious, and everyone was none the wiser. When taking the parasol from him, he even turned to the audience and said all so naturally:

Jesse: Have you lost something? Don't worry! We'll help you find it!

Having said that, he secretly winked at me. I know. He was telling me not to worry.

It felt as if his wink really had magic imbued into it, enough to settle my anxious heart.

I believe that no matter what happens, Jesse will definitely be able to turn the tables around.

Following that, Jesse walked up to the student who'd lost his parasol.

His beautifully long fingers manoeuvred through the air as he magicked out a parasol from the bag behind the student's back.

Jesse: Is this parasol yours?

The boy's eyes widened in both surprise and joy.

Boy: Huh? What's it doing in my bag!? I'm pretty sure it was at…

Just as the boy reached out to reclaim his parasol, Jesse withdrew his arm and moved it out of his reach.

Jesse: And that's not all.

He opened the parasol above the boy, releasing a shower of Countless starry deco glitter that rained down. It shimmered brighter than ever against the darkness of the night.

Jesse: A starry night especially for this lucky student here.

The students broke out into applause.

Student B: Oh my god! How did he do that!?

Student C: How pretty! I want one too!

The excited students swarmed around Jesse.

Jesse then continued on to show them a couple more magic tricks, surprising them to no end. Time quietly flew past amidst the excitement.

It was only when the replacement power cable had been sent over, that Jesse painstakingly pried himself away from the students that surrounded him.

❖☆———————————★❖

Upon returning to the room, the mere thought of how thrilling the performance of pulling things out of thin air continues making my heart race.

MC: Your reaction time's way too fast, Jesse!

MC: Fortunately, you're capable of pulling off that many magic tricks. Everyone's eyes can't catch up with you!

Jesse: Now you're flattering me, Milady. They're only small tricks, nothing more.

MC: Actually, I've been wanting to ask you this ever since we started prepping for the performance… But, when did you even start learning how to do magic?

Jesse: I don't remember. Probably when I was really young?

Jesse: I recall thinking that magicians really had magic back when I saw magic being performed on the screen for the first time.

Jesse: “Does magic really exist in this world?” This thought of mine has brought me a lot of happiness and hope.

Jesse: That’s why I wish to share the belief that magic does exist to everyone, even if just for a second!

MC: I believe you! I mean, didn’t we just do magic together?

MC: I now believe that magic exists in this world thanks to you!

He pauses for a while before his eyebrow lifts, a smile as bright as the sweat on his forehead appearing on his face.

Jesse: ...I’m really happy. Thank you, (Y/n).

Music sounded from the courtyard. The movie was starting.

Jesse: C’mon! Now’s the time for the magic of light and shadows!

❖☆———————————★❖

We settled ourselves onto the grassy grounds of the courtyard with chilled orange sodas in hand.

Gao Xuan had already prepared special seats for us. The two roses that Jesse had gifted me earlier in the day were now displayed within a flower vase decorating the table.

The projector screen before us slowly lit up, a picture of red and white roses appearing on the screen… It was the movie that Gao Xuan had been talking about, “The Roses”!

Fuelled by curiosity, I gradually immersed myself in the plot of the movie.

This movie was one where the male protagonist meets two beloved women. One, while in his adolescence, and the other, while in his adulthood. It was a story about his spiritual growth. The red and white roses each represented one of his two beloved ones respectively.

"White roses represent purity, as is my original intention; whilst red roses represent longing and temptation."

So, this line really DID come from this movie.

Near the end of the film, the male protagonist told her this: “Oh, how lucky I am to be what I am now.”

Just as I revelled in this line, I suddenly felt Jesse’s eyes on my face. His lips moved ever so faintly, the evening breeze bringing his low whisper across as it overlaps with the on-screen actor’s spoken line.

Jesse: “...How lucky I am to be what I am right now.”

Those jewel-like emerald green eyes of his told of affection that words could never attempt to describe. My heart unwittingly sped up, yet I couldn’t help but be attracted by the light glimmering within his orbs.

It was now, that the red and white roses atop the table quietly bloomed in the inky black darkness of the night.

A silent summer night; the cries of unknown bugs in the background; the illumination of the light and shadows of the screen cast upon our features.

And reflected in our eyes; was each other.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Memories⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 4)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Memories #海街昨日寄 #Sent yesterday on Sea Street

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

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Rating: T

Summary: The beret smelled like Ladybug. It was only natural that Adrien would wear it to school. He didn't know why Marinette would look so terrified to see it.(Post-Chat Blanc identity reveal)

Word Count: 5053

Notes: Requested by my good pal @mozzys-studio! (I”m no longer taking requests but this is for the episode-divergent reveal fic asks)

XXX

“Did you know I have a fan club in Brazil, Plagg?” Adrien asked as he examined the beret Ladybug had dropped off.

“Like I keep track of all the girls who want to gobble you up like a piece of cheese.” Plagg snorted and lounged on the now-empty windowsill. It was tempting to run to the window, try to follow his partner’s path home with his eyes. But he knew better than to breach her trust like that.

“It’s not like that, Plagg. I’m sure they’re just into fashion, like Marinette.”

Though… the hearts embroidered on it were a little much. It was too bad the gift wasn’t actually from Ladybug, like he’d first guessed when he’d caught her in his room.

“I wonder how they got it to her and not me,” he thought out loud. “Some fans in Brazil wouldn’t know her identity, would they? That’s on the whole other side of the world.”

“Of course they wouldn’t. You’re her partner, you know she’s not that careless.”

Adrien didn’t like Plagg’s tone. Ladybug wasn’t careless at all. Of course no one knew her identity, or she’d have to give up her miraculous.

Though Master Fu would have to go through him before he ever let that happen.

“You’re right.” Adrien sighed and flopped back on the bed, still running his fingers over the beret. The fabric was silky soft, obviously high quality. “I still wonder how they got this to her. Even I don’t know how to contact Ladybug unless I’m transformed.”

Plagg shrugged. “Maybe they sent it to the mayor or the Eiffel Tower or something. Who cares? It’s a dumb looking hat anyway.”

“It’s not dumb.” He held it closer to his chest and caught a whiff of Ladybug’s scent. Sugar and cinnamon mixed with some kind of flowery perfume. He’d wear it for weeks just to cling to that scrap of her.

Of course, the smell of camembert would probably overpower it before too long. Why hadn’t the same company that made “Adrien the Fragrance” bottled Ladybug’s heavenly aroma yet?

He was lost in daydreams of Ladybug modelling for a perfume ad for a few minutes before the itching mystery of the Brazillian fan club intruded again. Maybe if he looked them up online, he could ask someone how they’d gotten ahold of her in the first place.

Or I could just ask her, the more rational part of his mind said. But Adrien didn’t have any reason to get close to her, and Chat wouldn’t have any reason to know about her delivery.

Which begged the question… why did Ladybug agree to deliver the present in the first place? She said there was a postal strike in Brazil, but unless she’d used the horse miraculous, the package had at least gotten to Paris.

“None of this makes any sense.” His brow furrowed as he picked up the blank card that had come along with the package. The Brazillians hadn’t even left him a note.

He squinted. Or maybe they had—it looked like something had been erased from the bottom left corner.

“Hey Plagg, can you make this out?” He asked.

The kwami had been oddly quiet. Normally he liked to flip through a magazine or play foosball after a day of being squashed inside Adrien’s fencing gear.

“Huh? What? That little smudged spot?” Plagg waved a paw dismissively. “Nah. Probably just a stamp that ripped off, or something. Who cares? They should’ve sent you cheese instead, anyway.”

“It’s definitely not a stamp. There’s eraser marks, see?” Adrien sat up, crossing his legs on the bed. As he held the paper up to the light, he could almost make out the left over indentations of the word that had been erased.

“I wouldn’t look at that too closely if I were you. If she got rid of what she wrote, it’s for a good reason, right?”

Adrien’s head snapped up. “Wait—she?”

Plagg froze, looking guiltier than the time Adrien had caught him sneaking an extra wheel of camembert after dinner.

“Uh, did I say she? I mean they! The fan club, remember? I bet it’s a lot of shes though. Or guys maybe, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“No, you said she!” Adrien scrambled on his knees, rumpling the carefully made comforter. The beret reamined clutched in his right hand as he came face to face with where Plagg was laying. “Plagg—did Ladybug actually get this for me?”

“No! Of course not! Why would she do that?” Plagg laughed. “Come on, kid, you’re just saying that because you wish she would give you a present.”

Adrien’s face fell. Was he reading too much into it? After all, Ladybug herself had said the beret was from Brazil. Why would she lie to him?

“...Maybe you’re right.”

But he still took another deep whiff from the beret. She must have held onto it for a while at least. Would it be so bad to imagine it was hers? The stitching even looked like it was from a home sewing machine, not a factory. A few little threads hung off from the underside, just imperfect enough to feel handmade. And the pattern matched his favorite shirt, the one he was only allowed to wear to school or for stock photo shoots. His fans wouldn’t have known that if they were focused on his father’s fashion, right?

Getting your hopes up again, he thought with another wistful sigh.

Oh well. Regardless of the beret’s origin, Ladybug had come to see him. That was more than enough to cheer him up from the disappointment of Father missing his fencing tournament.

He smiled up at the ceiling.

“She really is simply the best.”

XXX

At school the next day, he guessed someone might comment on his beret. Maybe Nino would appreciate having a hat buddy. Maybe Chloe would say that he’d finally learned how to accessorize. Maybe Marinette would have something to compliment about the design.

What he did not expect was for all of the girls chatting on the steps to look at him like they’d seen a ghost. And then for each and every single one of them to hone in on Marinette.

“Girl! I thought you said you didn’t give it to him!” Alya whispered.

“W-well…” Marinette tapped her index fingers together. What she said after that was too quiet for him to make out, but it had all of the girls looking at each other in confusion. Rose squealed in excitement. Alix groaned before shoving a stuffed unicorn at her.

“What’s going on?” He asked Marinette as he approached the group.

She jumped higher than the time he’d accidentally startled her in the locker room

“Nothing!” She waved her hands frantically.

Alya’s jaw dropped. “Girl! Tell me this isn’t a repeat of the scarf incident!”

Marinette’s panicked eyes flickered between the girls’ gazes, and Adrien wondered if he’d walked in on something secret. But he was too curious to leave. And besides, if Marinette was having any trouble, he hoped he could help.

“What scarf?” His head tilted.

“Also nothing,” she said with a glare at Alya before forcing a too-wide smile. “I-I mean, it’s ages ago, it doesn’t matter now!”

“Oh… okay.”

Concerned though he was, he didn’t want to push her boundaries. He was about to say that he’d see her in class and that she could always talk to him if she wanted to, but before he could, Juleka spoke up.

“So you like the hat?” Her bangs swung in front of her eye as she nodded towards his beret.

“Huh? You know about it?” Had she possibly seen Ladybug on her way to deliver it? No, it had been wrapped at the time.

“Of course we do!” Alya grinned as Marinette made slicing motions in front of her throat.

“Alya,” she hissed under her breath.

“Come on girl, you’re so close! He obviously likes it!” Alya whispered back.

Adrien’s brow furrowed. He was mostly wearing the hat because it still smelled like Ladybug, but they didn’t need to know that.

Alix sighed wearily. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“It was Marinette who made—” Rose began before she cut her off.

“Don’t you dare!”

If her words were directed at Rose, why was Marinette looking at him with such wide eyed terror? Did he do something wrong again without realizing, like he had at the wax museum? Or was his new beret really that ugly?

“I’m sorry.” He reached towards her vaguely before letting his arm fall back at his side. If only he knew what he was doing wrong! He would do anything to make Marinette feel comfortable again.

“We’re just trying to help,” Mylene said softly.

“W-well you’re not!” She spun and shouted back. The girls jumped—understandably; Adrien had never heard her snap like that at anyone but Lila, who wasn’t even here right now. “Just—leave me alone!”

“What? Marinette!” Alya called after her, but she was already running away from the school, down the street.

Adrien would’ve preferred to get context from the girls first, but there wasn’t time. His feet pounded against the pavement as he chased after his friend.

“This is a bad idea,” Plagg hissed from his shirt pocket. “You just made things worse last time, remember?”

Like he could forget the time she almost kissed him while he was pretending to be a statue. It still didn’t all make sense to him, but he supposed he deserved it after tricking her like that.

“I have to try. She could be akumatized if we leave her now.”

Marinette had never been akumatized before, and he wanted to keep it that way. He wasn’t sure he’d be much help to Ladybug if he was forced to fight her.

Don’t think about that. She’s going to be fine, he told himself as he rounded a corner and found her pacing frantically at the end of an alley—

And a violet butterfly fluttering straight towards her.

“Marinette!”

He sprinted with all the strength his superpowerless legs could give him. His transformation phrase caught in his throat, torn between protect Marinette and your identity must remain secret. He doubted he could regret calling a Cataclysm to turn the insect to dust. Because even if it meant revealing himself, this was Marinette and he couldn’t let Hawkmoth steal the light behind her blue eyes, watch her become a puppet to his demands and her own twisted emotions—

But he didn’t decide quickly enough. When he was three steps from her, the butterfly dissolved into one of her red hair ties. A translucent purple mask flashed over her wet eyes.

“No,” he breathed.

This couldn’t be happening. The moment felt surreal, despite the number of his classmates who had already been akumatized. And Marinette had always been different from his other friends, even if he couldn’t admit it until he was watching her like this, pulling at her hair, at her ears—

Wait, her ears?

“Adrien,” she gasped, her voice cracking under the pressure of resisting Hawkmoth.

The bubbling darkness hadn’t washed over her yet. She might still have a chance. He wasn’t sure if anyone had ever fought off the supervillain’s influence before, but if anyone could, it was her.

“Marinette, look at me.” He took her hands, guiding them away from where they clawed at her earlobes. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever you’re afraid of, whatever Hawkmoth’s telling you he can fix—I promise you, we can do it together. Without him.”

Her eyes glazed over. He might not have much time.

But at least he had one advantage.

One hand squeezed both of hers while his other reached up to carefully unwind the tainted hair tie from around her pigtail. It crumpled beneath his fingers, releasing half of her hair to cascade down her neck—and releasing the dark butterfly back into the air.

“Oh no you don’t,” he growled and scooped it into his satchel, careful to tug the zipper completely shut.

“Adrien, no! You’ll be—”

He smiled at her once his prize was caught fluttering helplessly alongside his notebooks.

“—akumatized,” she finished, eyes wide.

A blush stained his face as he flung his satchel away. She was right. He’d been touching the bag. If his own negative emotions had been strong enough, he might have become an akuma himself. He couldn’t imagine how awful that would be—for Ladybug as much as himself.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be careless. I just saw you about to be akumatized, and I…”

I didn’t know if I could bring myself to fight you. But he couldn’t tell her that. He scratched the back of his neck.

“You saved me.” She wiped away tears with the back of her hand. “Oh my gosh, I was almost…”

She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. Adrien wished those were his arms enveloping her instead, but didn’t know if that would make things worse. She had asked to be left alone, and he still had no idea what had prompted her panic in the first place.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently. “I know you wouldn’t be this upset if it wasn’t important.”

She bit her lip, eyes flickering to his hat, then to the satchel that still bulged occasionally as the butterfly tried to escape. Now more than ever he wished he knew how to call Ladybug. Maybe he should’ve done some research on his Brazillian fan club after all.

Though, now that he considered Marinette and the girls’ reactions this morning, as well as Plagg’s slip yesterday afternoon, he was less sure that a potentially-hypothetical fan club could help.

“I can’t.” She shook her head, and she seemed to wilt.

“It wasn’t… something I did, was it? Because you can talk to Alya, or anyone else, it doesn’t have to be me. I just want you to be okay.” He stepped closer, reaching out to wipe a stream of tears from the soft curve of her cheek.

She stiffened at the contact. Right. They weren’t close enough for that either, no matter how much he wanted to be.

(Or how much they might secretly be, if his too-hopeful theory was true.)

“N-no, Adrien, it’s not you at all. I messed up.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I messed up so, so bad, and now my best friend is going to pay the price for it.”

“Alya?” He frowned.

“No.” She almost-laughed and looked up towards the rooftops. “I really thought you’d figured it out. Maybe I’m not too late after all.”

She seemed to be talking to herself more than him. But by now, he was fairly confident he knew at least part of what she meant.

“You made this beret,” he realized, slipping it off his head and holding it close. “Was that what you were worried about me finding out?”

The color drained from her face.

“Would you believe I was commissioned by your fan club in Brazil?”

Ladybug was the only one who knew it was the Brazilian fans who sent it to him. And she’d mentioned a postal strike there, which meant Marinette couldn’t have made it, unless—

Visions of his partner and his friend blurred together in his memories. Marinette dressed as Ladybug for Clara Nightingale’s music video. Ladybug asking him to team up with Marinette against the Evillustrator. She may have been able to fool him as Multimouse, but his gut feeling made too much sense to ignore again.

“You’re Ladybug,” he blurted before any better judgement (or the pain of Plagg smacking him under his shirt) could kick in.

“Shhhh! No one can know!”

She practically tackled him against the alley wall as her hands slammed over his mouth. He almost dropped his hat, which didn’t seem as important now that her cinnamon-sugar scent was surrounding him anyway. He just wished it was because she was hugging him, and not because she was terrified of him knowing her identity.

The butterfly beat even more forcefully against the cage of his satchel, a reminder of just how important it was that her secret stay secret. If Hawkmoth found out… he didn’t even want to imagine what could happen.

But she hadn’t tried to lie to him this time. She was Ladybug—Marinette was Ladybug! And she’d given him the beret—no, she’d made him the beret, which meant his wishful thinking was actually right, which meant—

The embroidered hearts on his beret suddenly didn’t seem too much anymore.

“Do you—do you like me?”

Even muffled by her hands against his mouth, his voice betrayed too much of his swelling hope. She’d chosen Adrien to work with against Desperada. Even if he’d been the wrong pick in the end, that counted for something, right?

“W-what? I—what makes you think I—?” She stammered before finally hanging her head and releasing him. “Yeah. I wanted to give you that beret to finally confess to you, but then Nathalie wouldn’t let me in your house, and so I snuck in as Ladybug even though Tikki warned me not to, and then you found out and I got Chat Noir akumatized and I thought I fixed it when I erased my name but apparently I didn’t and now I have to give up my miraculous or else everyone will find out I’m Ladybug—”

“Maybe you shouldn’t shout I’m Ladybug,” a higher-pitched voice from her bag suggested, and she froze.

“Right. Right.” She leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths.

Adrien began rubbing soothing circles on her back—something he’d occasionally do as Chat when Ladybug was stressed. She relaxed into his touch instead of stiffening this time, probably an instinctive reaction.

Because she was Ladybug. Marinette was Ladybug. And she’d tried to confess her feelings to him.

He should probably tell her he liked her back, right? Or would she only feel more stressed by that? She didn’t seem happy that he’d found out— though that probably had something to do with Chat Noir getting akumatized.

“I can’t let Hawkmoth sense my emotions again,” she said while he was still trying to process everything. “I’m lucky that he didn’t seem to understand most of them. He knew I was upset because I’d caused a friend to get akumatized, but since almost our whole class has been, that didn’t give him any clues to my identity. Not that it matters, because I… I can’t be Ladybug anymore anyway.”

Her breath came in short hiccups as tears once again leaked down her face.

“My la… Marinette,” he corrected himself as he gently turned her to face him. “You’re an amazing Ladybug. No one else could do what you do. Believe me, I’ve—” I’ve tried, he stopped himself from saying. He caught Tikki’s knowing grin from her spot in Marinette’s purse. “Anyway. I won’t let anyone take your miraculous, and I won’t tell anyone your identity, I swear.”

He’d guarded his own secret for this long; he was sure he could do the same for Marinette.

“And I—and Chat Noir’s never been akumatized.” Unless he’d forgotten, like during Oblivio or Dark Cupid… but he couldn’t completely forget the fact that he’d been akumatized, right? He would have at least seen it on the Ladyblog.

“Not yet.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s complicated. Bunnyx—she’s the hero with the miraculous of time—took me to the future, only everything was wrong, and—it’s complicated,” she repeated with a sigh.

Everything about today was complicated. All because he’d decided to wear the hat that smelled like her.

“If it’s really a big deal, can’t she fix it again? Or couldn’t she just… I don’t know, have stopped you from giving me this beret in the first place?”

He clutched the gift tighter. He didn’t want the proof of her feelings ripped from him, but what else could he do? She didn’t want him to know. He’d always meant to respect her privacy. If he’d been thinking straighter, maybe he would’ve played dumb. Then she wouldn’t have to panic, and they could be together, and she could come to his photoshoots and he could model her designs and they could adopt a hamster—

But if what she was saying was true, then the problem was that he knew, not anyone else.

“I guess…” she mumbled, frowning at the beret in his hand. “But what if she can’t fix it? If you know, and it gets out, and my partner gets akumatized… I could never forgive myself. I may be in love with you, but he means the world to me. I was selfish to still give you that hat when I knew what could happen.”

His heart could’ve stopped right then. She was in love with him! He wanted to spin her in his arms, but he settled for squeezing her shoulder and giving his most comforting smile.

“You didn’t know I’d find out. And really, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” He laughed. “How could Chat Noir ever be akumatized after learning that you’re in love with him?”

She looked up, brows furrowed in confusion. “But I already told you I’m not—”

Her mouth made a tiny o as recognition flashed across her face.

“Y-you’re him. You’re Chat Noir.”

He gave a quick wink. “The one and only, my Lady.”

Her forehead thumped against his chest, nearly startling him into tripping backwards.

“It’s you. This whole time I’ve been so worried and it was you! And I love you so much and—and this is terrible!”

The butterfly started fitfully fluttering again at her wail. It was a good thing Hawkmoth could only evilize one at once, or Adrien would worry about him sending another one after her. He kept his eyes peeled just in case.

“What’s terrible?” He asked while resuming rubbing her back.

“You—when you were akumatized—you said it was…” she choked back another sob. “It was our love that did that. I didn’t think it was possible, since I wasn’t in love with Chat, but… it all makes sense now. Of course I loved you when we got hit by Oblivio, and in the alternate timeline. It was always you.”

If Marinette kept saying she was in love with him, he was probably going to combust on the spot. Which made it very hard to think clearly and come up with a solution that didn’t leave them as star-crossed lovers until Hawkmoth was defeated.

“And it was always you.” He wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry into his shirt while he ran his fingers through the loose half of her hair. “If akumatized-me said our love was what ruined everything, then it must have been the butterfly talking. I would never let Hawkmoth use my love against you, Marinette. I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

She pulled back just enough for him to see a smile beginning to form on her face.

“You already did, didn’t you?” She nodded at his satchel. “Speaking of which, I should probably finish taking care of that. Tikki, spots on!”

It was one thing to know she was Ladybug, but another entirely to feel the pink crackle of her transformation tickle his skin, to see her mask sweep the tears from beneath her eyes. It unfortunately reset her pigtails, keeping her soft hair from his reach.

“Adrien, you have to let go of me for a second, at least,” she giggled when he stared at her dumbly.

“Oh. Right.” He snapped his arms to his sides, like a kid that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Plagg snickered and flew out from the pocket of his shirt. “Finally. You were really squishing me there, Pigtails.”

“Good to see you too, Plagg.” She chuckled as she unzipped the bag and quickly purified the akuma. “Bye bye, little butterfly.”

“And good riddance.” His kwami snorted. “Sorry about my kitten, by the way. I tried to throw him off your tail before, but he’s too stubborn. I think he was looking for any excuse for you to be Ladybug.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Marinette is amazing.” He hugged the beret over his heart. “Besides, I was right!”

Her grin lit up the whole alleyway. “You’re amazing too, Adrien. Even more amazing than I realized.”

“You—you really think so?” He was about two seconds away from actually swooning into her arms.

“Of course I do.” Her eyes softened. “You’re the best partner anyone could ask for, Kitty. I—I don’t know how I could ever give you up, knowing that you’re not just one but two of the most important people in my life.”

“Me either, Bugaboo.”

He put his beret back on so both his hands were free to cup her face.

“Spots off,” she whispered, and his thumbs brushed her cheeks without resistance. She cupped one hand over his, tracing the circle of his ring in a soothing pattern.

He could’ve stood there forever, just staring into her eyes, but he knew the conversation about their future couldn’t be put off for long.

“I don’t think Bunnyx is coming to stop us,” she said softly.

“Do you think…” He swallowed. “Do you think that means we’re going to be okay?”

Her eyes flickered to where Tikki hovered, looking torn.

“I don’t know,” the kwami said. “I do want you both to be careful, but Adrien is right. You can’t stop being Ladybug, and he can’t stop being Chat Noir. Your fight against Feast proved that.”

“And what about us being together?” Adrien asked a little too eagerly. Knowing that she loved him back was a dream come true, but it would easily turn to a nightmare if she expected him to act like nothing had changed. Not that he ever hid his feelings for her, but he’d respected that she didn’t return them.

Except she did. He was the boy she’d been in love with!

“Didn’t you hear her? She said you said that your love destroyed the world!” Plagg exclaimed.

“He wasn’t exactly himself!” Tikki countered. “It’s impossible to tell what really happened in the future without Bunnyx coming back. Which is why we need to be careful, but it’s not fair to ask them to just give up their feelings.”

Adrien didn’t particularly care what the kwamis thought. As far as he was concerned, this was Marinette’s decision. She was the one who had seen the future, or at least a version of it.

She was the one he loved. Who he would do anything to protect… but what if that meant letting her go? Was he selfless enough to do that?

He wasn’t sure. But he owed it to her to try to be.

His hands slipped from her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m not being fair to you. You were almost akumatized because of this, and here I am just worried about if you’ll go out with me.”

He’d said he’d always be there for her, that he’d never let Hawkmoth use him, but how could he promise that when she’d already watched it happen?

“Adrien, no.” She squeezed his hand. “It was my fear of the future that almost got me akumatized. If we have to live like that… always afraid of our feelings for each other—we’re just asking Hawkmoth to come for us.”

“Then… you don’t think it’s too dangerous?”

Fragile hope danced on the edge of his voice. Maybe it wasn’t smart. But the future wasn’t set in stone—the fact that Bunnyx had visited at all proved that.

“I think right now, it’s more dangerous for us not to rely on each other.” She smiled, and his stomach fluttered with the good kind of butterflies, the ones that wouldn’t try to twist his emotions into weapons.

“It’s too late to put the cat back in the bag anyway,” Plagg sighed.

“It would’ve happened eventually.” Tikki nodded. “I wish it weren’t so soon, but we can still make this work if you both are extra careful.”

“We will be,” Adrien promised. “I want to show you off to the whole world, but we could keep our love a secret instead, if it’s safer that way.”

“You think you’d show me off? You know you’d be the trophy boyfriend in this relationship, Kitty.” She giggled and flicked his nose, and heat spread through him.

“I can be your boyfriend?”

“My secret boyfriend.” Her cheeks were pink too. “I mean—I wish we didn’t have to, but you’re right. It’s probably safer this way, so Hawkmoth doesn’t find out.”

“Secret boyfriend still has boyfriend in it.” He grinned. “So what are my rights as your secret boyfriend? What kind of secret things do we get to do?”

He wiggled his eyebrows, making Marinette cough and sputter.

“A-Adrien!”

“I’m thinking secret cuddling, secret movie night, secretly adopting a hamster—okay, that one might be a little harder to pull off—”

Her laughter cut him off. “Oh my gosh, you’re such a dork.”

“What? Your dad said you wanted a hamster. Is that too soon? Should I have waited until the second secret date to suggest that?”

Her laughter turned to cackling, and he found himself laughing along with her. They were partners; they were best friends. She wasn’t going to secret-dump him just because he got a little overexcited about secret-dating her.

“Hmm…” She tapped a finger to her lips. “I think it should at least wait until after our first secret kiss.”

His brain officially fizzled out at the word kiss combined with the fact that he was already staring at her lips. He licked his own, suddenly wishing he’d worn chapstick.

“Um. So. That secret kiss—can that be now, or—”

Marinette answered his question by crashing her mouth into his, by tangling her hands in his hair, knocking his beret to the ground. Which was perfectly okay. He didn’t need a hat to remind him of her when she was here in his arms and in his lungs.

No matter how many secrets he had to keep, it would be worth it to be safe and sound with his Lady.

#reveal #fic requests #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #love square #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #fic tag #tali writes #really happy with this one!!#chat blanc

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professorpski · 4 years

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A Treasure Trove of Newspaper Knitting Patterns: Trove of Australia

The National Library of Australia, in league of other collection across the country, has put on line vintage newspapers which can be searched by word and date. Of course, there is the everyday news to see, and all the kind of fashions that showed up in newspapers including this knitted hat which was then finished with Petersham or millinery ribbon.

You can see here an example from The Sun from 1931 which I chose because it is both simple and interesting. You still have that close-to-the-face look which made the cloche hat so popular in the 1920s, although this is a kind of squashed beret which uses a ribbon to control the shape a bit. In fact, it gave me an idea of what to try on a crochet beret I made that has turned out too sloppy. They note that you could use a ribbon to match your coat and suggest velvet ribbon as well. And trimming a coat with velvet collars and facings was a perennial style.

I give you here the close-up of the hat and then the article. Trove also offers you the option of scanned text, but since newspapers are printed on cheap paper, the automatic scanning programs cannot always read them accurately. A blot of ink, a bleed-through from the other side, etc., throws off the program and it turns the words effected into gibberish.

You can find the entire collection here and then limit your search as you like: https://trove.nla.gov.au/

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charliecraftsthings · 10 months

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I decorated this pumpkin beret with a vine leaf and some curlicue vines! I think it looks pretty neat :)

#crochet #crocheting #pumpkin beret #hats #crocheted hat #squash hat #squash beret #autumn #autumn hat #autumn aesthetic #autumn accessories #floopy #cotton #winter squash #awesome hats #accessories #pumpkin

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redroseinsanity · 4 years

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Part 1 of a 7 part fic for @daisugaweek2020

Day 1 | September 20th | Strangers / Roommates

Daichi sees him at an auction, amidst the ridiculously fancy hats that everyone seems to wear to one. Between a feathered monstrosity and a squashed beret that looks like a misshapen cushion, he stands out, silver locks like a crown.

No matter how many times Daichi drags his eyes away from him, his gaze seems to drift back to the stranger like a magnetic attraction. Irresistible and inevitable.

Daichi has single-handedly fought off a group of armed gang members after a deal went south without sustaining too many injuries. He's de-escalated a snobby trust fund baby's birthday party gone wrong without anyone getting murdered. He's even gotten shot while protecting one of the top politicians in the country, obviously, the PR team managed to play it down to a minor graze of his shoulder when it was actually two months in hospital.

But nothing has been more excruciating than standing in a stuffy room that smells vaguely musty but also like the amalgamation of perfume, cologne, and powder.

In the enclosed room, to say that it's stuffy would be an understatement, but it needs to be warm enough so that the frail ladies such as Daichi's current client, don't fall prey to chills.

So he strains for the trickle of cool air that siphons down from the air vent diagonally above and scans the room for threats yet again.

Seated, with nineteenth century embroidered slippers on her feet and at least one foot in the grave, is Daichi's employer and hardcore antique collector. This is the fifth auction he's been hired to accompany her to within a month and he's seriously questioning where she gets the money to rent hired muscle like him if she's not selling anything and hoarding all she can lay her wizened hands on.

It's an old question that Daichi discards in favour of allowing his eyes to slow down yet again at the silver haired man. He holds up an ugly brown bidder's card with a slight smile that warms his hazel eyes.

The auctioneer takes note of him and down comes the card, gracefully even though it shoots up again moments later.

Daichi's brows draw together slightly as he identifies a kind of simmering confidence in the man's behaviour.

Despite the gentle curve of those pink lips, the gentleman's eyes seem to glitter with a composed sort of purpose, while his movements are unfaltering. This is a man who knows what he wants and that he'll get it.

It's like a direct shot of adrenaline to Daichi's veins.

Daichi will admit that despite the relative easy comfort that comes with playing the bodyguard for disgustingly rich, aged art collectors, things have been a tad too quiet for his liking.

It's a nice change from the rude attitudes of rich brats and the thick tension of under-the-table business. But Daichi kind of misses the thrill of the action, the heated rush of being caught in the thick of a fight or a heart stopping moment of extreme danger.

It's why he went into the private sector of the mercenary business after deciding he was done fighting in someone else's war.

"Sold, to the gentleman with the lilac scarf," Comes the verdict, and Daichi watches as the silver haired man smiles like the cat that got the cream.

In his line of work, details can make a world of difference and so the way the lilac scarf hugs the smooth column of his neck doesn't escape Daichi. Neither does he miss the elegant (and quietly expensive) watch that drapes across a slim wrist, strong hands, the three separate occasions that he checks his phone throughout the entire auction and the relaxed way he leans into his chair, like a jaguar lounging on a tree branch.

Daichi certainly catches the minute glances sent his way, once at the beginning of the auction and a second time just before it ends, lingering just a fraction longer, hazel eyes flickering like dancing autumn leaves.

Then, so fleeting, Daichi nearly believes he imagined it, the shadow of a coy smile thrown from underneath lowered lashes and immediately replaced by the predatory grin with which he places his next bid.

Daichi thinks about it as he stands guard while his client's spoils are loaded into the transport, while he supervises the movement into the house, even as he sweeps the perimeter and calls out the all clear.

A flash of hazel eyes, the curve of pink lips, pale green veins under luminescent skin that vanish under a lilac scarf.

This is the first time Daichi sees him.

#daisugaweek2020 #daisuga #haikyuu!!#sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #haikyuu fanfiction #daisuga fic #redwrites

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we-are-the-amb · 4 years

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So, I described what I thought female Sam might look like, so here, have my thoughts on how the Frog sisters might look. (This is not inspired by the actresses for the series, but no disrespect to them.)

- First, their names are Agatha (Edgar) and Christie (Alan), because I said so.

- Both sisters are quite short for their ages, both shorter than Sam, with Agatha being a little smaller than Christie.

- Agatha, like Sam, is a bit of a baby butch. Or, a butch in the making.

- Agatha is a plump girl, the plumpest of the three. She is not insecure about her weight, but she is bustier than she would like. She wears tight denims to try and squash her bust flat.

- One thing she is insecure about is the pockmarks on her face. She scratches her face a lot when she first meets Sam.

- Agatha has a mullet, but not the cute one that Edgar has, or the stylish ones that David, or Paul had. It is one of those ‘pageboy at the top, long at the bottom’ affairs. It’s abysmal, but she’s had it for six years, she’s not changing it for you.

- I know that gender does not affect sexuality, but while I imagine Edgar as ace, Aggie is a lesbian.

- Shirt is open, or buttoned to the top. No in betweens with this girl.

- Christie is a tiny thing, because she eats almost nothing but sugar (as I imagine Alan does).

- She’s always pulling her sleeves up. The only things that fit her right are usually her old childhood clothes, which she wears unselfconsciously, under her camo jackets. Aggie is very jealous of how flat she is.

- She has a lot of red patches on her face, her nose in particular is rather rosy. She sometimes get sick made fun of for having a “strawberry nose”, as her nose is also quite large.

- Her lips are quite dry and Sam keeps lavishing lip balms on her, which she promptly loses each time.

- Her hair reaches her waist and is very shaggy. She keeps it long as she likes to mess with it, but it does get awfully tangled. Especially wears her beret to keep it out of her fave, but her head is still studded with bobby pins and baby clips.

- I don’t know why, but I feel like she flaps her jackets like wings, more than Alan would. It’s a good stim for her.

#alan #alan frog #edgar #edgar frog #au #awesome monster bashers #frog brothers #frog sisters #the lost boys #lost boys

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intothestrawberryjar · 4 years

Text

Day 20: French

Again, I’m late, but what can you do.

This may perhaps be the dumbest thing I ever write, but I don’t care. I’ll let you find out for yourself, but you were warned.

As always, special thanks to my editor @moonberry-chieenne, who helped me cut down on words. Wouldn’t be able to do this without them, so thanks!

Title: French

Word Count: 1000

Summary: Lucas attempts to win Ava over by challenging her to a duel over cultural differences. What could go wrong?

Warnings: This is really dumb, so prepare yourself for the level of dumbassery Lucas is about to get into.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301724

A rare peace stretched out over the warehouse of Unit Bravo. Farah annoyed Morgan with poodle pictures that slowly withered away at the grumpy vampire’s insides, Nat pondered the thoughts of some random philosopher she met centuries ago, and Ava sparred with a training dummy, like usual.

A series of sharp knocks resounded throughout the building. Morgan made a beeline to the door, desperate to escape Farah’s poodle rampage. Yet, the sight that awaited her on the other side of the door may have been worse.

“Oh shit.”

There stood Lucas Langford, his short brown hair kept under a godawful burgundy beret. A single red rose lay between his smiling teeth, and an enormous baguette was held between his arms. All in all, the sight was perhaps the most disgusting thing Morgan had seen ever since Nat had dragged her along to see a play about two literal candles “waxing” poetic about each other and the joys of the waxy flesh. Ok, it wasn’t that bad, but still.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle. If I may be so bold, your beauty could light even the hardest of hearts.”

“What in the absolute fuck do you think you’re doing?” Morgan’s harsh words had no effect on Lucas and unfortunately cannot stop the holy power of his terrible French accent,

“Ah yes, back in France we do like our lovers to be a bit feisty. However, that is not why I am here. Where is Du Mortain?”

“You’re joking, right? This is all some big, elaborate joke? Tell me you’re joking or else I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

“No, my saucy lover, this is no elaborate scheme. I must speak to your commander, for honor, for glory, and most importantly, FOR THE MOTHERLAND!”

“I’m going to die. I am literally going to die, and it is all your fault.” At this point, Farah and Nat had poked their heads around a corner and caught a glimpse of Lucas. Morgan spun around, her gaze full of ire directed right at Nat.

“You. You taught him this didn’t you?”

“Well… um, Lucas might have asked me for a few cultural lessons and I might have… given them to him.” Nat’s stuttering reply only serves to fuel Morgan’s rage.

“Ava is going to KILL us when she finds this!”

“When I find what?” The thunderous steps of Ava’s feet came echoing down the hall.

Morgan turned to Lucas, the fury in her gaze bright enough to scorch. “If I were you, I would get out of her sight before she squashes you into a mushy pulp.”

“What a ridiculous notion, mademoiselle, I shall face my enemy and show her once and for all the true supremacy of France over England. FOR THE MOTHERLAND!” Lucas dashed toward the towering mountain of vampire muscle, baguette in hand.

“Dear Ava Du Mortain, I hereby challenge you to a duel to prove once and for all that France is the best country of all time! Do you accept?”

For a moment, everything was quiet. Morgan and Nat covered their faces with their hands, while Farah looked on with amazement. Ava stared at Lucas, and Lucas stared back with the face of a man completely ready to die on the hill he had set his life upon. Then, Ava spoke.

“I accept your challenge, monsieur.”

Everybody’s jaws dropped. Lucas’s most of all. He had gone into this expecting to make Ava mad, yank her chain a little to endear her to him. Probably not his best idea, but it was all he had. But now, he actually had to duel the commander of his mother’s team of supernatural agents. And all he had to fight her with was a piece of stale French bread. What could possibly go wrong?

One hour later.

The duel was set for dusk. Ava, with Nat as her second approached the duelling circle they had drawn in the middle of the woods. Lucas, with Farah as his second, also approached the circle. Each combatant had a baguette in their hands, ready to fight to first strike. Morgan stood in the middle of the circle, to act as referee.

“Now, before we get started, let’s go over the rules. I want a good, clean fight, no rough housing, no dirty tricks. First strike wins. Now, fight for your countries!”

Ava and Lucas began circling each other, waiting for the other to strike. Then, as quickly as a cobra, Lucas struck. Ava quickly sidestepped him, bringing her baguette to her shoulder to make a quick, clean strike. Before she could however, Lucas spun around and held his baguette out in front of him. The impact sent him stumbling back a few steps, and Ava used the advantage to quickly thrust her baguette at his chest. Lucas jumps back, and the pair quickly begin a back and forth of thrusting and parrying, each struggling to get an advantage over the other.

Suddenly, Ava touched her baguette to the ground, and struck with a swing so powerful it could’ve split a man’s skull, yet only managed to split her opponent’s baguette. Lucas caught the other half before it hit the ground and hurled it at Ava’s face, temporarily blinding her. He took the advantage to make one last stand. It was now or never.

“VIVE LA FRANCE!” And with that war cry, Lucas charged forward, only to trip on the baguette half he had thrown. Falling to the ground, Lucas looked up to find a particularly pointed baguette aimed at his throat.

“Do you wield, monsieur?”

“Oui, mademoiselle. I yield.”

“And you admit that England is superior in every single way to France, and that her glory will live on through the eons?”

“Oui.” He whined sadly, like a dog out in the rain.

“Well then, I’m glad we could settle this honorably.” Ava lent her hand to the fallen patriot, showing him mercy. Lucas happily accepted, realizing that maybe, just maybe, his stupid plan may have worked after all.

#the wayhaven chronicles #pure crack #why is lucas so dumb? the world may never know

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kittinoir · 3 years

Text

Phantoms Ch. 9

Read on Ao3

Adrien blinked as Marinette’s bright pink bag thumped down on his desk, right on top of the tablet he’d been about to slide into his own bag.

“Lunch. You. Me. Talk.”

The colour was high in her cheeks and her eyes were bright. If he didn’t know better he’d guess she was embarrassed, but there was a slightly frantic air to her that told him there was nothing romantic in her invitation. If it could even be called that.

“Here?” Adrien glanced around at their class maters, some of which were eyeing them as they talked. He’d never been happier with the secrets between them gone, but privacy was harder to come by than ever.

“I have it on good authority we’ll be left alone,” Marinette said as she hefted her bag back onto her shoulder.

As if on cue, Chloe and Alya herded their friends through the door. Adrien caught whispers of ‘the meeting of the minds’ and ‘debriefing’.

“What exactly goes on at those sleep overs?” Adrien asked as he watched them go. Too late, he realized that in any other context, he’d be in trouble.

But Marinette only laughed, a carefree sound he realized he only just realized he missed.

“Team building exercises,” she said as he stood and joined her. She paused for a moment and then continued, “We had a vote on whether or not Chloe would stay.”

Adrien’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought that had already been decided.”

Marinette shrugged and fiddled with her purse. “It had been, but…one thing led to another, and it can’t just be our choice. We have to be able to rely on each other. We all have to choose her.”

As ugly as the truth was, Marinette was right. They couldn’t make anyone trust her, and they couldn’t beat Hawk Moth if there was any doubt.

“I guess it went in her favour,” he said as he watched them disappear into the cafeteria. Just before going through the doors, Chloe paused and threw him a smile over her shoulder, one with genuine warmth and love, and just a little bit of cunning. Happiness looked good on her.

“Mostly,” Marinette said as she lead him not to the cafeteria, but down to the school doors. “Mylene, Kagami, and Alix all voted no.”

“Kagami and Alix don’t surprised me,” Adrien said as he mulled it over. “Those two aren’t the type to forgive easily. But Mylene…”

“Forgiveness isn’t the issue,” Marinette explained. “It’s the trust thing.”

“Ah,” Adrien said, nodding. “I get it.” They all knew what Chloe had done for Marinette, but that didn’t mean they could necessarily appreciate the cost of it - and if they did, it didn’t magically cancel out the rest. Trust was hard. It couldn’t always be rebuilt. But better to be aware of that weakness in their team than to lose because of it. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to me about?”

Marinette took a steadying breath and shook her head as they entered the park near her flat. It was nearly empty in the middle of a work day. A few people walked dogs, some read the newspaper, but no one was close enough to overhear them. Marinette slipped a hand inside her purse and he thought she might pull something else, but she didn’t, and after a moment, her shoulder slightly relaxed. He abruptly realized the purse must be where Tikki hid, and that Marinette was seeking reassurance from her kwami. Reassurance about him.

“Have I…done something wrong?” Adrien asked, trying to squash the thousands of worst-case-scenarios that were suddenly tripping over themselves in his head to be acknowledged.

“No!” Marinette grabbed his hand with her free one, squeezing his fingers to emphasize her words. “You haven’t done anything wrong. There’s something I have to tell you. Something that happened a long time ago. Something that never happened.”

Adrien frowned, confused, but didn’t interrupt, unable to help himself as he laced their fingers together. He knew what Marinette looked like when she was trying to find the right words; it was a variation of her lucky charm pout. So he focused on that, on the endearingly familiar curve of her lips, the little ‘v’ that appeared between her brows, the warmth of her hand in his, anything but the foreboding weight pressing down on him. They’d faced worse. They’d face this, too.

“You were akumatized.”

Adrien couldn’t help it - he laughed. “I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just…I think I’d remember if that happened.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Marinette said. She hadn’t so much as cracked a smile. “Bunnix helped me make it not happen.”

And just like that, there was nothing funny about it anymore.

Adrien’s emotions rushed, but he smothered them, just as he always did. Yelling, making demands, fear, none of it would help Marinette figure out how to tell him what she was trying to say. So he simply said, “Tell me all of it.”

And she did.

Ladybug in his room, he remembered. The fifth’s name day gift, too, the beret with the embroidered hearts that was sitting in the back of his closet, untouched. But other than that, the day remained insignificant to him.

But not to her.

“Chat…Blanc,” Adrien murmured when she’d finished. Marinette tried to hide a wince and failed, as though hearing him say the name himself was somehow worse than the story she’d told.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stared at her purse. “I should have told you a long time ago, but I just thought - ”

“It didn’t happen,” Adrien said. “So there was nothing to tell.”

“And then everything happened with the miracle box, and there was no point. I wasn’t Ladybug anymore.” Marinette’s fingers had gone cold in Adrien’s hand a long time ago as they’d walked rings around the park, but he felt them stir now, as though she might pull back.

And as upset as he was, Adrien wasn’t ready to let her go just yet, so he tightened his grip, just enough to ask her to stay.

“I thought I’d adverted the future,” she said. “Chat Blanc said it was our love that destroyed the world, but it didn’t matter, because I was in love with someone else, anyway, more than I was in love with my partner. And then…it turns out they were the same person the whole time.”

She said it so nonchalantly he almost missed it, as though part of him had always known Marinette felt that way, because a part of him had always felt the same. Or maybe he’d just grown used to it in the past few months. He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was that he was in love with the girl in front of him, the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, the girl who was still learning how to ask for help and rely on others.

And that she was apparently in love with him, too.

“So that’s…why…” Adrien stopped, and Marinette stopped with him, blushing furiously as he worked through every moment through new eyes.

“And it still doesn’t matter, because I know that’s not how you feel about me,” she rushed on. “I know Ladybug wasn’t who you thought she was, and…”

Adrien’s heart was breaking. How could this wonderful, amazing girl, who he loved so much, who was so smart, say these things? He had to get her to stop talking. He had to convince her she was wrong. He had to let her know he loved her, too.

So he cupped her cheek, tilted her face up to his, and captured her lips in a kiss that lit every nerve in his body on fire.

And despite the horror story she’d just told, despite the disaster it might cause, after only a moments hesitation, Marinette had wrapped her arms around his waist and was kissing him back.

“I love you, Marinette,” Adrien breathed when they finally broke apart. She hadn’t let go of him, so he rested his forehead against hers, just happy to be close. “I’m <em>in</em> love with you. I have been for a long time. I might love Ladybug, but only because she’s a part of you, the part I got to know first.”

“I’m sorry I kept so much from you,” Marinette said as he pushed her bangs back and pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead. “I wanted to tell you so many times.”

“It seems pretty obvious now why you felt you couldn’t,” Adrien murmured against her skin. “Pretty heavy stuff. I just wish you’d let me help you before now.”

“But this is exactly why I couldn’t,” Marinette sighed as he pressed another kiss to her temple. “I knew this would happen. And I knew, when the time finally came…that I’d let it.”

Adrien paused as her words sank in, taking in the truth of them.

“You’re still afraid of it,” he said. “Of…me.”

“Not you,” Marinette said fiercely. “Of Hawk Moth. It’s always been him. It’ll never be safe for any of us until we beat him.”

She was waiting for him to protest, he realized. To insist that the future was already different, and that they were strong enough to thwart any future in which he was akumatized. But not only were they the untrue protests of a man desperate in love, but Marinette was afraid of that future coming to pass regardless - and she was tired of trying to prevent it. He could tell in the way she leaned on him then, the way she allowed him to hold her, the way she kissed him back. He knew if he pushed her, she’d let him convince her, because the beautiful truth was, she wanted this as much as he did.

And it didn’t matter one bit, because Adrien had made the same choice, time and time again, and he wasn’t about to make a different one now.

“I understand,” he said, stepping back out of the circle of her arms.

Marinette blinked, confused, one arm still extended toward him as though he’d taken part of her with him. “I…what - ”

“I love you, Marinette,” Adrien said again. “More than anyone or anything. More than being Chat Noir. I’ll be your friend, and your partner, but nothing else. Not until you’re sure. Not until you’re not afraid anymore.”

For a moment he thought she might protest, and he had a moment of panic; he was no where near as strong as her. He’d crumble at the first ‘please’.

But she didn’t, and as their phones went off, alerting them to an akuma attack, Marinette simply gave his hand one more squeeze and said, “Thank you, Adrien.”

And then she let go.

#phantoms #I'm tired of neglecting this fic

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