hallie's stuff


more enemies au doodles

“keep your friends close, but your enemies closer

like really, very close

intimately close

so close that you can feel your enemies breath on your neck

and you shiver with hatred and… anticipation?

turn around and look your deep into your enemies eyes, letting your gaze drag down to their lips, your eyes intense with desire. push your enemies up against the wall.

make out with your enemies.”

thedeathofablog  asked:

Because it's killing me, and because I'm absolutely dying for it- fake married au, reveal? (LadyNoir, if you need a ship for it, but any's fine)

fake married au

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

side stories: Alya’s reaction (you are here!)

You got married?!

“Not so loud, Alya!”

Alya apparently took this to mean ‘not in the library,’ because Marinette found herself on the rim of the courtyard with a possibly dislocated right arm and a definitely irate best friend who’d only been away for a week and Marinette just went and got married? Without her?!

“Alya, calm down, it wasn’t anything big!”

You got married! To Chat Noir!”

“So he could keep his pet shelters in business,” Marinette hissed, glancing around to make sure the courtyard was truly empty. She had not planned the big reveal to go down like this. Her plan had involved having a little warning, for one. “This is literally just so the government won’t starve his kittens, geeze, Alya!”

Alya glared. “I wasn’t even invited to the wedding!”

Because there wasn’t a wedding! Besides, A-Adrien got m-married too, right? Why not go interrogate him?”

A funny look crossed Alya’s face, a wry grimace crossed with an aside glance of mild consternation. “I… already did.”



“But anyway!” Alya brushed it off. “I need the details, girl. The details!”

And no matter how many times Marinette insisted that there was really nothing to tell, Alya didn’t let up until she had every last detail.

Marinette loved her best friend, but god could she be a bit much at times.

mirthalia  asked:

/whispers pink lady flirting with chat blanc /using some of adrien's pickup lines /or ridiculous stuff she found in cosmo /or both

three times pink lady tried to hit on chat blanc, and the one time it got through backfired


In Chat’s opinion, there was nothing better than a long, quiet patrol. Nothing but him, the city lights, the night air, and…

“Soooo…” Pink Lady drawled, popping up next to him.

—one of his best friends.


She grinned. “You look like a hard worker…”

Chat blinked. Not what he was expecting her to open with, but he could roll with it. “…And?”

The grin went from cheerful to shit-eating. “I’ve got an opening you could fill.”

Solicitation for work was even stranger, but Chat was thinking about other things. He wanted to help out, and if it paid it would help his mom out, too, but between the cafe and patrol and school and the modeling and fencing and the akuma…

He winced. “I’m sorry, Pink. I don’t think I have the time. Is it urgent? Do you need me to help you find someone else?”

Pink Lady pouted, sighed, and mumbled, “No, never mind.”

“Are you sure? Because I can—”

She waved him off, pout in place, and indicated with a gesture they should get to patrolling before taking a running jump off the roof ridge.

Huh. That’d been odd.


“You know….” Pink Lady purred cheerfully, perched on a ledge just above the excess of water the akuma had left in its wake. “That was pretty impressive.”

Chat shook off the water like a dog, dragging a hand through his sopping hair to resettle it, and beamed up at her, pride glowing in his chest. He’d just successfully pulled off a plan to launch the akuma off the top of the hotel, and it felt nice to have a job well done acknowledged.

Or, it did until Pink continued in a much darker purr.

“I practically had to swim up here, after that.”

Those are some funny places to emphasize a statement, Chat thought for a grand total of three seconds. Then it occurred to him that his plan may or may not have accidentally flooded the lower levels, and nearly had a heart attack. 

“Chat? What’s wr—”

He spat out a curse and launched himself down the stairs, praying the damage hadn’t been too bad. There’d been people down there!



“I’ve always wondered…”

Chat looked up from where he was trying to dig his staff out of the crevice the akuma had knocked it into before fleeing.

Pink Lady was perched on a high wall, watching his backside and presumably making sure he didn’t fall in his attempts.

“Where do you get your pants?”

He wrinkled his nose at her, cocking his head. “My kwami suit…?”

“No, no,” she said, flapping a hand dismissively. “Your everyday stuff. You know, your—” Her gaze swept his lower half. “—jeans. Or shorts. Or slacks.”

“Oh.” He went back to straining for his lost weapon. “The thrift store, usually.”

“Because I was just going to say— wait, really?”

She sounded unduly surprised, and Chat paused in is attempts, feeling his shoulders tighten in defense. “Is that a problem?”

“Huh? No, of course not.” He heard a little huff and then, so soft he was certain he misheard it, “‘S cute.”


“Oh, ah, nothing!” The scrape of suit against stone, like she was changing positions. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that at my place, they’d be one hundred percent off.”

Chat had the strangest certainty that she’d just winked at him. Or at his behind. Unthinkingly, he said, “Oh. Thanks.”


“How does that work, fiscally?” he said, abandoning his staff, to straighten back up and pivot on his heel. “How do you recoup your losses? Even if you made them all yourself, you still have material and labor costs, and…”

…And Pink Lady was giving him a very strange look.


She sighed deeply, pulling out her yo-yo and fetching his staff in one neat toss. “Never mind. We should go — the akuma’s escaping.”

(Chat never did figure out how she could afford to just give away pairs of pants.)


“Do you ever wonder about our suits?” Pink Lady asked, spinning in the office chair he’d banned her to when he decided that dangerous chemicals were needed for the next step of the plan. It put a table between her and the locker, and Chat prayed that would be enough. “Like, how much do they change about us? Or our bodies?”

“I’ve flipped a bus, you know,” Chat said drolly, flicking through the chemical locker on a quest for potassium. “I don’t think our suits increasing our capabilities was ever in question.”

“But, I mean like—” She kicked off the stand, giving the chair a steady, stationary spin. “—how much do they change us? Like, if I can lift twenty kilos normally… And what exactly does it change?”

It was an interesting point.

“I’ve noticed— aha!” He found the potassium and set it aside, diving deeper for chlorine. “I’ve noticed strength, reflexes, balance, speed, flexibility…”

Pink Lady brought her chair to an abrupt halt, cat-like grin already in place, and placed an elbow on the armrest and an cheek on her fist. “Flexibility, you say.”

Chat snorted, thinking of all the very strange, nearly inhuman poses Pink had fallen into over the course of their disaster-prone partnership.

“Well, you could be right,” Pink said, too casual by far.

Chat looked up from his search, wary.

“I mean, I never really noticed,” she went on, sliding her upper half onto the table between them, chin in hands. “I can put my legs over my head even without it.”

Chat tried very hard not to imagine what that might look like. She was cute, sure, and a flirt, definitely, but he really doubted she meant it like that, and besides, she was the one friend whose respect he desperately wanted to keep. Not someone he wanted to have dirty thoughts about, especially when she wasn’t even two meters away.

“Oh,” he said instead, and cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “Neat. So can I.”

Dead silence.

“S-sorry?” Pink Lady finally asked, a few octaves too high.

“I can put my legs over my head,” Chat clarified, going over the exact formulas in his head one last time and absolutely not thinking about pretty girls who were also notably flexible. “Out of the suit. It’s not that hard, really.”

“…Oh,” said Pink faintly.

More silence.

Finally, Chat found all of his components.

“Would you mind sitting up?” he asked, turning around. “I need to mix…”

Pink Lady was currently doing her best impression of Red Lady.

“…You okay?” 

“Y-yep! Fine! Peachy!” Pink assured him, shoving herself off the table so hard the chair flew into the wall behind it. “Ouch!”

“….Right,” said Chat, and got to measuring.

(If Pink Lady was oddly silent for the rest of the evening, Chat never figured that out, either.)

(based heavily on/takes place in the scary sabine au)

you asked for one short fic and i gave you four, derp :’D

so i was looking up cosmo pickup lines and one article got them from this reddit thread and can i just say that i haven’t laughed so hard in ages

send me a ship and an au for a 3 sentence short fic