like i said it was a challenge

A Day In the Life - A Nuala/Cerridwen Fic

Hello everyone! I wrote this little fic today because I thought it was cute and @crochanblackbeak said “Do it.” So, here we are. 

Based off of a headcanon by @silke-tara found here. I don’t know if she imagined this with a baby Rhysand, but it is what it is XD I hope you like it!!

AO3: here

Fic Masterlist: here

Summary: A day in the life of Nuala and Cerridwen: Bat Nannies.

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OTEverybody: Airport

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes

Rated: DIY it!

Pairing: Everyone and no one at the same time.

Summary: Being NCT’s manager was challenging as it is, add to that the fact that suddenly half of them feel the need to win your affection.

(A/N): I’m very curious about something, what about this do you enjoy?

Proposal | Practice Room | Meeting | Third Floor | Airport





“Has anyone seen Hansol?” You called out, trying to gather the unbelievably large group.

“You sound like a fan.” Yuta mumbled beside you making you turn to glare at him. He only grinned in response.

“He went to buy something from the pharmacy.” Taeil said, hitting Yuta.

“Okay let’s go sit for a while then.” You said as you counted over the number of boarding passes in your hand again.

As soon as you sat down, a sudden voice shocked you to the point of dropping the contents in your hand.

“Hello, oh sorry.” Minho crouched down to pick up the paper scattered on the floor.

“I’ll do it.” You started but he had already picked them up and handed them to you. You looked around the airport nervously, you were screwed if someone took a photo. You took the things quickly and told him to get back up.

“Hyung what are you doing?” Taeil asked with a frown, “There are cameras everywhere.” Minho stood up immediately but was still smiling.

“They’ll just think I’m polite, don’t overreact.” He said then turned his attention to you, “So how was your day?” He asked grinning as he sat back.

“I saw you in the morning Minho-sshi. Since then I’ve just had to finish different things.” Minho hummed like he sympathised.

“Yes you didn’t even have time for coffee.” You blushed hard at his words.

“I’m-I’m sorry about that really. But I thought you were joking.”

“Maybe I was but now you owe me a coffee.” He gave a dazzling smile.

“What is happening here?” Taeil whispered to Yuta.

“It’s a very long story.” Yuta sighed, his gaze still fixated on the both of them.

“It’s about the get worse.” Jaehyun spoke behind them, making the both of them jump and made you turn to them momentarily before your attention was demanded again. Jaehyun pointed ahead as he sat down and both of them turned and then braced themselves.

“Hi!” Baekhyun said brightly making you jump again but this time you didn’t drop anything. You just bowed politely.

“Do you mind coming with me to the store? Kai said no.” Before you could reply a couple of voices interjected.

“We have to wait for the other members.” Yuta said.

“You can’t take our manager away hyung.” Jaehyun said.

“It’s almost time for the flight.” Minho spoke up last with a sharp tone.

“Why am I being attacked from all sides?” Baekhyun defended himself rather loudly.

“I’m going to go look for Hansol.” You interrupted and got up quickly.

“Are you sure we didn’t leave him in the bas-ow!” Yuta started. Taeil hit him again.

“I deserve a raise.” You mumbled under your breath and walked away rapidly.

 “How are things at Ouran sm?” Heechul walked up with a smile on his face and mockery in his voice.

“I swear he shows up at the worst times.” Jaehyun mumbled, even Taeil agreed.

“I heard Minho is losing to our baby idols.” He laughed maniacally.

“I am not!” Minho’s eyes went wide.

“Where does he hear these things?” Yuta said looking confused.

“At least you’re better than Baekhyun.” He put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” He said looking offended.

“Why is he starting a fire?” Taeil mumbled. Heechul turned to them and winked before walking away still laughing.

“What is happening here?” Ten asked obliviously after walking up to them and earned glares from both his seniors that made him walk away immediately, “Nevermind.”

The flight was long which was expected, but the number of times you were summoned was not. You were called by the same flight attendant the fourth time now pausing the movie you were engrossed in, she looked incredibly apologetic and asked you to escort her to the front of the plane. The curtain that separated the economy class from the rest was pushed aside and you walked in with a long sigh. You looked around till you noticed a hand wave at you frantically.

“Noona I’m not feeling well.” Chenle said with a small voice that made you worry instantly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked putting your hand over his forehead to check his temperature.

 From the other side of the aisle Donghyuck and Doyoung watched you treating Chenle warmly.

“Why doesn’t she treat me like that?” Donghyuck whined.

“You’re not sick.” Doyoung sniffled after he spoke. He turned to him with a pout.

“You have a cold and she’s not coming over here is she now?” Doyoung rolled his eyes at his childishness.

“I’m not a child, firstly. And secondly, I don’t want her help.” He mumbled looking over at you walking back to Chenle with a cup of something warm in your hand.

“Just admit you’re jealous and petty like the rest of us hyung.” Donghyuck put a sympathetic hand on Doyoung’s and he glared at him.

“I’m not jealous.” He shoved his hand away, “I could care less about Johnny and Mark’s manager.” He scoffed, sniffling again thereafter. A sudden sneeze from him made you turn to him and made him turn his face away from you and cover it under the blanket.

“Hey.” He heard a familiar voice and a pointless ‘knock’ on his blanket.

“What?” He said more sharply than intended, but Donghyuck had managed to rile him up as he did best.

“Here’s some medication, I asked them to get you some tea and I got you a mask to wear.” You smiled at him warmly and put a hand on his forehead focusing, “You don’t have a fever so that’s good. Just rest a little.” She smiled again.

“I didn’t know you were a doctor too.” His words didn’t sound as rude with his fumbling.

“Your younger members fall sick at least twice a week and I have siblings. Just do what I say okay? You look adorable sick but you won’t be able to keep up with the schedule.” You smiled one last time and tried to go back to your seat but Johnny called you over eagerly.

Doyoung couldn’t hide the red of his cheeks as he watched you walk away.

“I could care less about her.” Donghyuck used an annoying mocking voice.

“Shut up Mean Girl 2.0.” Doyoung retorted and Donghyuck was at a rare instance, rendered speechless.

“I can’t believe she called you cute.” Jaehyun whispered from the adjacent seat, surprising Doyoung.

“It’s the bunny cheeks.” Ten whispered in his ears rather loudly.

“I don’t have bunny cheeks.” Doyoung threw a pillow at the both of them, “I’m going to rest now.” He announced and covered his face.

“Yes, doctor’s orders after all.” Donghyuck chirped in and earned a punch on his forearm.

A few days ago, I said with great certainty that Vriska made me more nervous than Jack, and this last batch of reveals nicely demonstrates why.

Jack just likes stabbing people, which is scary and all, but it’s also pretty straightforward. If you see Jack, you’re in for a life or death battle. Good luck.

But with Vriska… Even if she likes you (especially if she likes you) there’s a good chance that she’s still setting you up for something horrible. If you’re talking to her, you’re already somewhere in her web, and the challenge is figuring out where you stand, and how to get out of it with all of your limbs and morals intact.

anonymous asked:

Dean was pushed more to the sidelines this season was to give Jensen a lighter work load after the twins were born. I'm referring to that anon that said Dean didn't have much of a story arc this season. But I agree with your answer. It's sad that Jensen didn't get what they were doing with Mary like the rest of us. They really don't deserve an actor like him. Someone who likes to challenge and push their range. They don't give him enough of that anymore, so he has to find small ways to do that.

Hi lovely!

Yes, getting days off due to the twins def played into some lighter work around that time, but overall well before then this season has been ignoring Dean imo, but I am not shy to admit that my perception of this particular element is definitely not neutral as I simply care about Dean most. ;) And Dean didn’t have a satisfyingly told or worked out storyline this season, he was just used as a prop for other characters’ stories while once more Dean’s issues and traumas were ignored by the writers.

And yes, I think Jensen made it plenty clear at JIB that he wishes for more challenges. Let’s hope that maybe Dabb will watch some of the videos online. :) Maybe he’ll then get a clue how to give such a talented actor as Jensen the possibility to shine some more. :) Fingers crossed!!!

You got knocked the f*ck out!

So, this is an imagine I wrote for my friends challenge!
@yellowtheremarvelfan celebrates 600 followers and I was happy to join!

Being said, there is not much information about this imagine, so enjoy it!
xx

Words: 1321


Ever since the world went to shit, I had two constants in my life.
Shane and Daryl.
Since my brother apparently  didn’t survive his gun shot wound I only had them after THAT night.
The night, where the dead didn’t stay dead and became alive again.
Or something like that.

Anyways, Shane took care of me and my nephew Carl, as well as for his mom, Lori.
Shortly after that we met Carol and her family, as well as some other people.
Including Daryl and Merle Dixon.
Daryl Dixon.

Grumpy. Silent. Big Heart and mostly, undeniable hot.
But that’s just it.
The two of us never really got a chance to get to know each other better and now, settled in at the prison, I don’t want to make things any more awkward.

That was then and now I am busy otherwise.

Keep reading

I said it once, I’ll say it again: NBC is pulling the plug.

Justice cancelled.
Med is going midseason.
Sophia is leaving PD.

If they kill off a major character in Fire, this will be it folks. I love the characters, I love the actors, but something’s gotta change. Otherwise the next one to go will be PD. :(

2017-2018 will be a challenge for the Chicago universe.

anonymous asked:

with that said, I love your Finland because its nice when he's not portrayed completely like a whimpering flower pony

Thanks. 

The thing is that APH Finland shouldn’t be portrayed as a crybaby tbh. He doesn’t need anyone’s protection and he doesn’t fucking cry because he has to face a challenge.

The good thing is that the fandom is starting to realize this :) 

anonymous asked:

99, 98, 93 with aleister black?

I am. So worried I am going to butcher this. If I do, pls don’t yell at me, I may look like a boss ass bitch but I am a marshmallow.

#93:  “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”
#98:  “Hold me back!”
#99:  “I don’t care what they said, it doesn’t mean shit!”


You tugged at Aleister’s arm, trying to get him to just move. Never would you think you’d be in this situation, the two of you usually getting on as well as cats and dogs. Although the man challenging was larger, you were more worried for what Aleister would do to him, knowing he would easily come on top.

“I believe you owe her an apology,” Aleister warned, his voice growing low, a snarl passing through his teeth at the sarcastic smirk plastered on the man’s face. The man had run into you at the bar, ultimately spilling his own drink all over himself. You tried to apologize, really you did, but that didn’t stop him from hurling insults your way. That’s when Aleister got involved.

“Yeah? It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion,” his hand pushed at Aleister’s shoulder, expecting to intimidate him a bit. You saw his aura grow thicker with rage at that movement. “Are you going to buy me ‘nother drink or not, bitc-” he never finished his sentence, a tattooed fist fell against the front of his face, knocking the drunkard to the floor. You moved quickly in front of Aleister, pushing at his chest to move him away from the situation. One of your hands fell against his cheek, cupping it gently. Tingles erupted against your spine as you felt his jaw clench beneath your fingertips.

You ignored the squeals coming from what you assumed was the man’s girlfriend, forcing Aleister’s eyes down to yours, whispering small words to calm him down. You turned your head a bit, following Aleister’s line of vision to the girl holding the face of the man, unconscious from either the punch, his alcohol level, or hell, both.

“Are you happy now, he did nothin’ wrong, but your menace of a boyfriend just had to start somethin’, too much of a pansy to punch ‘im when he’s sober,” you did a complete 180 at this, cocking your head to the side as she stood up, getting in your face. A small ‘what’ left your lips as you tried to understand what this girl may be on. “What, this the only way h’can get you off anymore, pickin’ fights with innocent strangers? His dick too small for a whore like you to be satisfied?” 

Your tongue pushed against your front teeth, a chuckle passing your lips as you looked at the girl. “I’m gonna put you on the fucking floor,” you were suddenly held back, fighting against the arms keeping you in place.

Hold me back,” the girl whispered to her friend before shouting back at you. “If it wasn’t for them holding me back, I’d kick your ass,” she growled out, making no move to go at you, pissing you off even more.

“Let’s go, come on, I’ll rip that infected ass tongue through your teeth,” you hissed back, launching her direction yet again, only to, this time, be lifted by tattooed arms. “Put me down, Aleister!” you fought against his arms, ultimately making zero impact in getting his arms off of you. As you passed through to the back alley, he finally set you down, arms stopping you yet again as you tried to pass through the door.

“You stay here, I’m going to go grab your things,” his voice stayed calm, which only made you angrier as you growled out a ‘but they said-’ before being cut off. “I don’t care what they said, it doesn’t mean shit!

“You did earlier, now that I jump on board with you for once, you move on, that’s bullsh-” one of his hands took hold of your face with a rough touch, angling it as his lips pressed against yours in a heated passion. Your eyes went wide as he pulled away just as quickly, your voice growing small. “O-oh.” you mentally hit yourself at your response.

“Are you going to listen now?” He questioned, his hold on your chin loosening without completely releasing it. You ignored his question, opting for the age old, cheesy, ‘you just kissed me,’ response. Your eyes met with his, heart leaping at the small smile rising on his lips. “I did,” your face angled up to his as his lips moved to hover over yours. “And I’m going to do it again,” This time it was softer, yours lips easily moving in sync with his. 

Time seemed to slow down as you pulled away, instantly wanting another. His forehead pressed against yours. “I’m going to go get your things, stay here.” You nodded gently, biting on your bottom lip as he pushed past the metal door, only to come out a few minutes later, your purse and jacket in tow. 

He set your jacket around your shoulders, before his arm rested across them, tugging you close to his body. Your fingers moved to intertwine with the ones dangling over your shoulder, calmly asking where you were going. 

“Cafe, about a five minute walk. We need to talk about some things,” he muttered out, doing nothing to hide the smile blossoming on his lips. 

@zabbers said: 

haha I’m actually thinking it’d be a HUGE challenge to write something BBC-friendly for Twissy…I’m not sure it’s even possible for me.

In my defence, the BBC started it with all those bondage references. And, you know, the sex dungeon. I can’t help it. I’m just drawing inspiration from the source material. 

° • ? ( QUESTION SENTENCE STARTERS.

❛ What are you doing? ❜
❛ Where are you going? ❜
❛ Where are you taking me? ❜
❛ How is that working out for you? ❜
❛ Is everything okay? ❜
❛ Why are you acting like this? ❜
❛ You think I would lie to you? ❜
❛ Are you telling the truth? ❜
❛ Are you sure you want to do this? ❜
❛ This is your bright idea of a plan? ❜
❛ What else do you want me to do? ❜
❛ What else can I do? ❜
❛ What do you think I should do? ❜
❛ What makes you think that? ❜
❛ Who told you that? ❜
❛ Who are you? ❜
❛ Why are you here? ❜
❛ Who invited you? ❜
❛ How come you ever asked me? ❜
❛ Did you really mean all those things you said? ❜
❛ Why did you have to go? Why did you have to leave? ❜
❛ Why is it so hard for you to see that? ❜
❛ Why don’t you understand? ❜
❛ What don’t you understand? ❜
❛ Are you joking? ❜
❛ Did I miss anything? ❜
❛ You don’t remember? ❜
❛ Did you really say all that stuff about me? ❜
❛ Did you think I would forget? ❜
❛ How can you sit there and say that? ❜
❛ How do you even sleep at night? ❜
❛ Are you coming or not? ❜
❛ Am I the only one freaked out right now? ❜
❛ Are you laughing or crying? ❜
❛ Who did this to you? ❜
❛ Did someone hurt you? ❜
❛ Is it just me or are you, like, ignoring me? ❜
❛ You want me to apologize for something you did? ❜
❛ Are you going to kiss me or not? ❜
❛ Aren’t you the one who said it though? ❜
❛ So, you don’t like me like that? ❜
❛ Where do we go from here? ❜
❛ Are you being serious right now? ❜
❛ How was I supposed to know that? ❜
❛ Oh, is that a challenge? ❜
❛ Are you flirting with me? ❜
❛ Are you going to let me go now? ❜
❛ Are we done now? ❜
❛ Why didn’t just ask me? ❜
❛ You’re going to believe them over me? ❜
❛ How can possibly think that? ❜
❛ Did you even miss me? ❜
❛ Did anyone even notice that I was gone? ❜
❛ Why do you go around and kiss everyone? ❜
❛ Did you kill them? ❜
❛ Who’s blood is that? Is that your blood? ❜
❛ Do you think this is a game? ❜
❛ Are you having doubts? ❜
❛ Why haven’t you been at school/work? ❜
❛ Is there something going on that you need to tell me? ❜
❛ You said you wanted to talk? ❜
❛ What am I supposed to do? ❜
❛ What did you expect to happen? ❜
❛ How long you think you can keep this act up? ❜
❛ You don’t like me? Do you? Like in a more than a friend way? ❜
❛ Is that what everyone is saying now? ❜
❛ Who do I remind you of? ❜
❛ Are you hungry? Want to go get something to et? ❜
❛ Are you drunk? ❜
❛ Are you lost? ❜
❛ What’s so great about any of that anyway? ❜
❛ Are you even listening to yourself? ❜
❛ What are you going to do about it, huh? ❜
❛ What are you staring at? ❜
❛ What are you doing out here? ❜
❛ Why did you call the police? ❜
❛ Wait, do you hear that? ❜
❛ Why don’t you tell me anything? ❜
❛ Hey, did you get me anything? ❜
❛ Why didn’t you come over last night? ❜
❛ What did you find out? ❜
❛ Can I stay here for the night? ❜
❛ Are you throwing rocks at my window? ❜
❛ Are you crying? ❜
❛ What are you laughing at me? ❜
❛ Are you laughing at me? ❜
❛ Do you not understand the word no? ❜
❛ Is that it? Is that all? ❜
❛ Are you in some kind of trouble? ❜
❛ Yeah, but, you have me. So why bother? ❜
❛ What’s love got to do with it? ❜
❛ This is where we kiss, right? ❜
❛ Do you ever not just only think about yourself? ❜
❛ Are going to leave me again? ❜
❛ What’s wrong with that? ❜
❛ Do you have anything you need to say to me? ❜
❛ I think I’m going to puke. Is there a trash can in here? ❜
❛ You really don’t know why I’m mad at you? ❜
❛ Why do you treat me like I’m not important to you? ❜
❛ Why are you telling me this?
❛ Are you ready? ❜
❛ What’s with all the questions? ❜
❛ I thought this is what you wanted? ❜
❛ Where do you think you’re going with this? ❜
❛ You’re just going to leave? ❜
❛ Do you trust me? ❜
❛ You love me? Or you think you love me? ❜
❛ When will it ever stop? ❜
❛ Do you think it’ll ever go away? ❜
❛ What are you doing this weekend? ❜
❛ You called for back up? ❜
❛ What did I just witness? ❜
❛ How do you cope when the one you love is with somebody else? ❜
❛ Have you ever thought it? ❜
❛ Are you wearing a wire? ❜
❛ Is there something wrong? ❜
❛ Is it something I said or something I did? ❜
❛ What’s wrong? I thought that it was okay? ❜
❛ Are you going to hold that against me forever? ❜
❛ So, tell me, what else is new? ❜
❛ You never actually cared, did you? ❜
❛ You went to a party without me? ❜
❛ Why wasn’t I invited? ❜
❛ Do you think that’s a little fucked up? ❜
❛ Oh, so you do speak? ❜
❛ Do you think it’s really worth it in the end? ❜
❛ How many more times do I have to tell you? ❜
❛ You didn’t think that it would bother me? ❜
8

Sometimes I feel myself getting stuck in a CAS rut and a lot of my sims end up looking very similar. I’ve seen these types of click and drag generators often as writing resources, or as silly games to predict the “future” and thought it might be interesting to tailor it and incorporate it directly into the sims so I’ve thrown a quick one together. Everything is still quite open-ended so it’s all up for personal interpretation, it’s just a push to get you started. 

*Note: I included alien and vampire under gender. If you get one of these options, feel free to drag again until you get male/female to determine the gender, or choose it yourself. Like I said this isn’t set in stone and is more for inspiration than hardcore rules. If you don’t have the vampire pack, just pull a different result. No biggie.

By no means do I take any form of credit for this idea, I’m sure it’s probably even been done on simblr in the past, I just wanted to throw my hat in the ring and thought I’d share it with all you lovelies as well. x

Might make a fun challenge too? tag your creations as #clickanddragcas or something and see what this prompts us all to make maybe idk!! just have fun nd make cute sims

Happy Tuesday.

I’m calling it “Yurio Catches Puberty” as a working title. (PG for swearing and puberty.) (Warning for body image stuff, very minor.) 

***

“WHEN WILL THIS BE OVER?”

The scream of anguish from the rink’s locker room shower made Yuuri look up sharply. He’d only arrived in St. Petersburg yesterday, but this couldn’t be normal, even if nobody else seemed to be paying the slightest attention.

“AUGH!”

It was definitely Yurio.

“Yurio?” he started to ask, but Georgi clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t engage,” he hissed.

Yuuri looked at him, wide-eyed.

“What’s going on?” he whispered, as Yurio began a steady, at least quieter stream of cursing in Russian, then English, then Japanese that Yuuri definitely hadn’t taught him.

“Puberty,” Georgi said.

Yuuri blinked. “Puberty?” he asked.

Georgi gave him a disgusted look. “Of course,” he mumbled to himself. “The golden boy didn’t suffer puberty…”

He wandered off, now also cursing, and Yuuri had ten seconds of silence before Yurio kicked the shower door open and strode out, towel around his waist.

(There is a readmore below! Read more!)

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when one of the most talented rpdr casts ever is getting screwed over by bad challenges and bad editing

A couple of us were talking on our discord about the Miraculous characters as the Overwatch characters. We decided a couple of us would draw them, so of course I called dibs on Chloe as Mercy. 

I think the funniest thing about this matchup is Chloe would probably still try to be offense.

2

“I remember hearing Milt Kahl lecture about animation one time, and he said that one of the real challenges for him was animating weightlessness. Animating a character who is sort of floating in mid-air. Not flying, but just sort of floating. It’s details like that that we in the audience are not supposed to think about, of course we shouldn’t. We’re involved in the story.” - Leonard Maltin, film critic and historian

A few challenges teaching English to Russian students in a Russian school:
  • explaining “to be” when Russian doesn’t have “to be” in the present tense
  • yes we need a verb in each sentence
    • every sentence, nikita, i said what i said
  • yes I know Russian is easier when it comes to word order
  • and order of adjectives
    • (tbh I didn’t know there was an order of adjectives)
  • the conditional
    • if I have time today I would go to the park but
    • if i had time yesterday i would have gone to the park
      • but, miss, they both translate to like the same thing??
        • Yea they do, ur right
          • So what’s the difference?
            • i don’t even know
  • explaining the progressive tenses when Russian doesn’t really have progressive
  • or perfect
  • I mean, it has perfective, but lemme tell you, some things just don’t translate well
  • Pronouncing the words “beech”, “beach”, and “b*tch”
  • Also spelling these words
  • getting 20 essays entitled “The Golden B*tch” about an environmental project renovating a lake shore
  • The Conditional
  • say the words “society” and “piece” to any Russian student and watch them laugh
  • (actually maybe don’t say it if u have middle school students. and high school students. just figure a way around these words.)
  • Generally calling all animals “it”
    • but, miss, the animals are girls or boys!
      • I mean I suppose but
        • so then we use he/she?
          • No
          • Unless u love them and they’re ur pet
            • joke’s on me my students love all animals
  • The Conditional, types 2 and 3
  • will have been working
  • had had
  • direct speech–>indirect speech
  • the entirety of the passive voice (how tf do you translate this to Russian?? When I do translate it students are like……..that’s not how we use Russian
    • I know that’s not how we use Russian I speak it too
    • But unfortunately that’s how we use English
      •  asked the Russian lit teacher how to translate “by them” and “by him” and “by her” so that I could help students translate Passive Voice and
        • she didn’t know
          • “we don’t use Russian like that though”
          • “yes, ma’am, I know we don’t, but I have to translate it for the kids u feel me”
          • “but that’s silly”
          • “yes, ma’am, it is I’m begging u please help me”
  • условное наклонение
  • “That’s not how we use Russian! English is so strange!”
    • this I know I promise you
  • auxiliary verbs
  • ??
  • The Present Conditional and the Past Conditional
  • please add more
Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

Keep reading

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
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~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)