#i sent my ass into a full blown coughing fit watching this

[littlekatleaf]

The shape that I'm in now

(It's 1 am, I must be posting Roadrat snz fic. This takes place in the same 'verse as 'Buried in a burning flame' and 'My heart as spent as ashes, but takes place before them. Not that it's necessary for the story, just to orient.)

Whatever here that’s left of me Is yours just as it was ~ Hozier, As It Was

Junkrat rolled over, trying to ease the ache in his hip, but it didn’t help. Sheets scratchy on oversensitive skin. Eyes hot, dryer than the fuckin’ desert, nose running like to make up for it. Flipped the pillow, but both sides were already too warm. Everything hurt, from toenails to eyelids. Even his fucking missing limbs hurt, however the hell that worked. What sucked the most, though was the silence. It pulsed against his eardrums, buzzed in his head.

Had told Roadhog to go. No choice about it. Bones’d been aching with impending fever, head felt packed with sand. Knew what was coming and didn’t want Roadhog to see. Didn’t want to be seen. Not when felt like his skin was peeled back, leaving all of his quivering insides bare. Being sick was being vulnerable. In Junkertown being vulnerable meant you was good as dead.

Felt Roadhog watching him from the first handful of sneezes. “Nobody fuckin’ cleans this shithole,” Junkrat had grumbled, trying to play it off. Roadhog said nothing.

Didn’t say a word when Junkrat blamed the spices in the stir fry for the second fit.

Unfortunately the third handful of sneezes seemed to have blown all thoughts from his brain and he was still trying to recover when Roadhog asked, “All right, Rat?”

“‘M fine. If you want to get in my pants just say so.” Might have intended it to sound flirty but it came off pissy.

Roadhog crossed his arms over his chest. “Ain’t like that. You just look…” “Ain’t neither of us winning a beauty pageant, Hog. Mind your business.” Least that time sounded like maybe he could be joking, even with the edge in his voice.

Tried to bite the sneezes back after that. Pinch them off. Smother them in his sleeve. But every single time he felt Roadhog’s eyes on him, watching. Made the hairs raise at his nape and finally he snapped, shouting at Roadhog to get the fuck out and leave him alone.

Roadie had, and he was fine with it. Just perfectly fuckin’ apples, mate. Went to bed, tried to sleep it off. But couldn’t. Now he tossed back the sheets, pushed himself up, buckled on his prosthetics. Make himself tea. Caffeine might dull the headache. Heat’d feel good on his throat.

You wanted to be by yourself... teasing whisper of her voice through the buzzing. You told him to go. You should be happy - here all alone with your disease. Could practically feel her breath at his ear and he swayed for a minute, dizzy. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near you.

“Shows what you know. Roadhog likes it when I sneeze.” Hated how defensive it sounded. Proof that he was only good for one thing.

Perhaps, but this is beyond even his depravity. Look at yourself, Jamison.

Without really meaning to, his gaze flicked over to the mirror that hung above the washbasin, then away again. Not before he’d seen himself though - scarecrow hair, singed in more places than he’d realized, skin and bones, dark circles around his eyes, nose red, lips cracked from breathing through his mouth. Expression going blank as the need to sneeze came over him. “Huh-R’iiishh! Isshew! R’iishew!” Managed to catch them in a tissue at the last minute, but it was a close thing.

Disgusting. And weak. I absolutely cannot fathom why he has not left you behind yet. Ill so often. Missing half your limbs. In need of protection. What kind of man are you?

“Shut it,” he said. Much as hated to admit it, she was right. Knew full well all the ways he was lacking. Rubbed his dripping nose on a handful of tissues.

Perhaps he just enjoys toying with you. Drawing things out before he takes your treasure and returns to the Queen. Her tone is a purr. A predator does love to tease its prey.

“Roadhog ain’t the Queen’s. Not anymore.”

No? He told you that, did he?

“Yes.” Sort of. What had Roadhog said when they met? Freelance? What did that mean? He wouldn’t… would he? If he got pissed off enough? If Junkrat was enough of a pain in the ass? A sudden chill whipped through him and he shivered. Grabbed a windcheater off the hook on the back of the door and yanked it over his head. Roadie’s, he realized as the soft cotton engulfed him. At least he was warm. Tugged the hood up over his head. Maybe that would block out her voice.

Pathetic… The whisper echoed in his ears, then faded - taking his energy with it. Giving up on the tea plan he curled up in a corner of the couch. Pulled in his knees, tugged the windcheater down over him and tried to disappear. Just needed to get smaller. Smaller.

A sneeze jag shook him awake. Took him a second to catch his breath and open his eyes. There was Roadie, holding out a tissue. Didn’t want to take it, but the alternative was worse. And messier. “Thanks,” he said, stuffiness blurring the consonants. Blowing his nose helped, but only a little.

Roadhog didn’t say anything, just turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen. Kettle rattled, water hit the basin. Click snap of the flame catching on the stove. Clink of spoon against mug.

Apologize, Jamison. Unless you want to test his patience even further.

Don’t need your input, he said, but only in his head. Always weirded Roadhog out when he answered aloud. Cleared his throat, attempted to pitch his voice loud enough to carry, even though felt like he’d been swallowing sandpaper in his sleep. “Oi, Roadie?”

Nothing. Sighing to himself, Junkrat untangled his limbs, ignoring the shivering. Maybe Roadhog wouldn’t notice. Managed to reach the kitchen this time. Roadhog’s back was turned, head slightly bent over whatever he was doing.

Rat hesitated in the doorway. While his mouth usually moved faster than his brain, at the moment neither seemed to be online. He leaned against the jamb, waiting for inspiration to strike. Instead he sneezed, catching them in his sleeve, then coughing after. “Ugh, fuck. I’ll wash this I swear.”

“...” The skepticism was clear even without words.

“Ain’t gonna forget this time.”

“...”

Junkrat coughed a laugh. “Yeah, you’re right I probably will.” Rubbed the back of his neck where it ached. “Roadie, I’m…” sorry he was going to say but Roadhog turned, offering a steaming mug.

“I know. Drink.”

Couldn’t smell anything through his clogged nose so he sipped warily. Then sighed, relief and gratitude. “Where the hell’d you find Lemsip?”

“Bobby had some.”

“An’ he just gave it to you?” Meds were hard to come by, even stupid shit like cold medicine.

Roadhog shrugged. “He owed me somewhat.”

The steam made his nose run and tickle and he sniffled a little. Which only served to trigger another round of sneezes and he slopped hot liquid over his hand. “Ow, god fucking dammit.”

“Here, let me…” Roadhog reached for his hand, but he stepped back.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Rat. I said let me.”

The darkness of his tone sent a shiver down Rat’s spine. The command in it was as unmistakable as the warmth. Junkrat stopped, pinned, barely breathing. Roadhog wiped his hand, carefully, like the burn could have been serious. Then he laid a palm over Rat’s forehead, fingers pleasantly cool. Junkrat leaned into the touch.

“Really got a fever, don’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, exactly but Junkrat nodded anyway. “Feelin’ shit, to be honest.” A hot flush chased the chills. Had to tell Roadie the truth, but didn’t make it any easier.

“You hurting?”

Rat shrugged, nodded again.

“Come on,” Roadhog put an arm around him, led him back into the bedroom. “Lie down.”

“Ain’t tired,” he tried. Not quite enough energy to be a proper brat.

“Not planning on sleep. Lie down.”

Junkrat did as he was told, but closed his eyes as the bed dipped and Roadhog sat down beside him. With gentle fingers he disconnected Junkrat’s prosthetics and set them aside. Even though he’d only been wearing them a short time, they’d already rubbed sore spots on his skin. Roadhog knew to avoid those places as he began to massage the muscles in Rat’s forearm, kneading until the knots loosened, then moved on to Rat’s thigh.

As the tension drained away, Rat sighed so deep was almost a groan. “God, that’s good.” Roadhog let go of him, but didn’t move away. There was the soft sound of a jar being opened and a teasing scent of menthol that Rat could smell even through the congestion. Vicks, of course. “For the cough,” he asked, smirking.

“It’ll help,” Roadhog said, but this time Rat knew it was a question. Making sure he was okay with it.

“It will,” Rat agreed. Put him back on easier footing. Hog gave him a little care, he’d get Hog off. Fair and square.

Roadie slid his hands up under the windcheater and goosebumps rose in the wake of his touch. Junkrat’s back arched, “Oh,” he breathed. “It’s so… Itchew! Huh-Itchh! Itchhuh!” Luckily he’d pulled the sleeves over his hand because he covered just with his hand before realizing.

“Bless you,” Roadhog said, without pausing from the massage.

“Th...thank y-Ihchuuh! Ah’tchh! Chh!” The sensations together were almost overwhelming. Felt like he was tingling along every nerve, shivering with both chills and desire, surprised to find himself going hard, even as he kept sneezing.

“You blushing, or is that the fever?” Roadhog’s voice a rumble in his ear and even that made a shudder run through him.

“Both,” he sighed. Nothing he could do about it, body betraying him with every sneeze.

Roadie chuckles. “You do that so well.”

“Wh… Huhitch!... Itch! Ishhew! … what?"

“Lose control.” An answer but also a command as he tugged Rat’s boxers down and slid inside, surprisingly gently.

“Oh…” Words gone. Thoughts gone. Only feeling left. Heat, fever, want, like fire in his blood. Waves of trembling over him. Hog deep inside, moving with a gentle but implacable rhythm, driving him higher, stoking the flames. He clenched his mech hand in the sheets, clung to Hog with his flesh hand, fingers tightening convulsively. And as the flames built so, too, did the need to sneeze. Little panting breath, interrupted by sniffles and teasing hitches.

“Lose it, Rat,” Roadhog said.

“Ah’Rrrishhah! Ushhew! Isshah!” The flames engulfed him, he shook with release. For a long, long moment he could only blink blearily at the ceiling, utterly spent. “Holy shit,” he managed, finally.

At some point Roadie’d gotten a cool washcloth and he wiped it carefully over Rat, washing away sweat and the vaporub. Just when the cold was about to set him shivering, Roadhog pulled a blanket over him, then leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You did good, Rat.”

A burst of warmth flowered in his chest and tears sprang up. Rat blinked them back, scrubbed his face with his hand. “‘M a fucking mess,” he said.

“...”

“I mean, sure we have fun. But look at me.” Waved a hand over himself. “Missing a piece or two. Fuckin’ sick all the time. Maybe we should just… go our own ways.”

“...”

“Got enough of a haul to make up for the fight in the bar. Enough to make this bodyguard gig thing worthwhile. We should maybe quit while we’re ahead.” Before you get tired of me, he didn’t say, but it was there on his tongue.

“Rat.” Clink of buckles as Roadhog took off his mask.

Junkrat resisted the urge to look at him. Didn’t want to read the truth of his feelings in his eyes.

“Look at me.”

He does, for a second, then away again.

“You see the scars. All of them. You think they make me ugly?”

“No!” Surprise had him actually meeting Roadhog’s gaze. Caught, he couldn't look away. “Just part of who ya are.” He reached up and traced one from the corner of Roadie’s eye, curving down and along his jaw. No, the scars had surprised him at first, but never bothered him.

“Need the hogdrogen. The mask. So I’m weak?”

“Course not.” First person to mistake Hog for weak wouldn’t live to regret it.

“This place tried to kill us. In so many ways. But it fucking hasn’t. Don’t let it win, Jamie. Don’t let it.”

Junkrat swallowed hard. Nobody called him that, not for years and years. “I won’t,” he said.

Roadhog lay next to him and Junkrat curled into him. Roadhog pulled him closer, carded his fingers through Rat’s hair. “Sleep, Jamie.”

I’m yours, he thought as he drifted away. Whatever’s left of me.

[duskowithapen]

Of Flowers and Tattoo Needles Chapter Two

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction

Read Chapter One

The Flowers

Luka walked into the Secret Garden. Juleka took one look at his face, sighed, and led him towards the backroom. “Be glad I hadn’t had time to take this home,” she grumbled, emerging from the freezer with a tub of caramel ice cream tucked under one arm. After a moment, a spoon appeared under his nose.

Rose looked up from where she was doing paperwork. “What happened Luka? I thought you and Marinette would get along really well!”

With a groan, Luka flopped into a chair. “We were!” He totally-didn’t-whine. “She designed the most kick-ass looking tattoo that was everything I wanted, she gave me the friends and family discount, she didn’t laugh at me when I flirted…”

“Well, that’s an improvement,” Juleka sassed from her own ice cream rub – strawberries and cream, because she was a sap for Rose, who she was intermittently feeding. “But I can’t see the issue…?”

“It was all going well until her boyfriend showed up.” Luka glared over his ice cream. “So thanks for the warning, guys.”

Rose frowned and put down her pen. “What do you mean? Marinette doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“She was moaning about it during our last girls night,” Juleka interjected. “Talking about how all the guys who came into her shop seemed to be over-muscled sissies who cried the second they saw the tattoo needle.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what to tell you. Him and Marinette were definitely close.” Luka was about ready to drown himself in his ice cream. Even the excitement over his tattoo had faded into abject misery. He looked into the depths of his slowly melting ice cream, recalling the last ten minutes with perfect clarity.

Marinette looked like she was going to devour him. Her eyes kept flicking between his, darting down to his lips and back. She had even started to lean in when someone coughed.

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” It was a tall blonde, formally dressed in a pressed black suit that made his eyes stand out (yes, Luka noticed. He might have been besotted with Marinette, but he wasn’t blind.) While his question may have been innocent, the smirk that crossed his face wasn’t.

Marinette’s face lit up bright red as she jumped out of her seat. “Adrien! I wasn’t expecting you here till 4.30!”

“Look at the time, buginette. If I’d known you had another client, I would have waited.” Adrien laughed as he wrapped the smaller girl up in a hug, lifting Marinette off her feet.

Luka glanced down at his phone, while Marinette began to stutter out apologies. 4.28. He couldn’t have been a couple of minutes late, Luka thought bitterly.

“I’m really, really sorry Luka!” Marinette had come back, the blonde – Adrien – wandering away to look at dragon tattoos. “I didn’t realise how long I’d spent on your tattoo, and Adrien had been a last-minute booking, so I’d completely forgotten!”

“It’s okay, Marinette.” With an internal sigh, Luka gave her a smirk. “Gives me a reason to come back.”

It seemed to snap Marinette out of her anxious haze.

He didn’t know if it was his words or his smirk, but something snapped Marinette out of her anxious, apologetic haze. Her grin was evil when she stepped into his space. “You needed another reason? I thought you said you were fine with needles.”

Luka’s mouth opened and closed for a moment before he collected himself. “I’m fine with needles if you’re the one poking me with them.”

Whatever Marinette was going to say in return was interrupted, yet again, but Adrien. “Sorry Mari, but I’ve got dinner with Pere tonight, so if I’m getting this tattoo, I kinda need to get it now.”

Adrien was now shirtless.

That’s all Luka could process as Marinette stepped away with another apology.

Adrien was sitting in one of the tattoo stations, jacket and button up slung over the top of the chair. Marinette ruffled his hair as she walked past. “Don’t go rushing an artist, kitty. Otherwise you might end up with something less badass fire dragon and more Mushu.”

“Hey! Don’t go hating on Mushu!” Adrien gasped in faux-outrage, turning away with his nose in the air. “He’s travel-size!”

“Uh huh,” Marinette sighed as she walked back over to Luka. “Anyway, ignore him.” She held out a clipboard with a form on it. “If you just want to fill in your details, I can polish your design after I do Adrien’s tattoo, and then send it through for you to look at. If you like it, I can fit you in…” She paused and walked over to the desk near the door. “Well, I have a cancellation tomorrow morning, and I can get Nathaniel to do Ivan’s tattoo… I can fit you in for tomorrow at nine, if you’d like. If that’s too soon, I have openings next week?”

“Tomorrows fine,” Luka said as he wrote down his email. “And I’m sure I’ll love whatever you send me. Your rough sketch is incredible – I can’t want to see what it looks like in colour.”

The smile Marinette sent him was almost blinding. After Luka handed her back the clipboard, Marinette said goodbye and walked back towards Adrien.

The last thing he saw was Adrien’s smile as Marinette pecked him on the forehead. “Ready to get stabbed, mon chaton?”

Luka refused to look up as Rose and Juleka digested what he just told them. They shared a glance in that way all couples do – like they can communicate via intense eye contact – before bursting into laughter. Well, Rose burst into laughter. Juleka just chuckled and shook her head.

“You’ve got it bad, brother,” She said around a spoonful of ice cream, “It’s almost pitiful.”

Rose poked her with a pen. “Jules, don’t be mean to him!”

A scoff. “I can be mean to my brother as long as he remains a dumbass.”

Luka raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, sister? Do I have to mention the Prince Charming incident?” That had happened back in college, when Juleka had moped for days when she thought Rose had fallen for the foreign prince who she met on his visit to Paris. There had been much relief when Rose had clarified, no, the prince was too male for her refined lesbian tastes.

Alright, Luka had been pretty insufferable then too.

Juleka snapped the lid closed on her ice cream and turned to put it away. “You said that your appointment is at nine, right? Rose, we can open late tomorrow, right?”

“Ooo, yay!” Rose clapped, gathering her paperwork. “I can’t wait to see what kind of tattoo you’re getting Luka!”

“Do I get a choice in this?” He asked with a raised brow.

“No.” And Juleka pulled away his ice cream.

Later that night, Luka opened an email from marinetteDC@email.com. Hey Luka! I’ve attached the full colour layouts for your tattoo. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

He was so glad he lived alone – there was no one there to watch him blush over an email from a girl who may or may not have a boyfriend. Then he looked at the photos. His breath caught.

These are incredible. The image was flat but drawn so that when the transfer paper was wrapped around his arm, the sides would line up. The snake was coloured in various shades of blue, with a lighter sea blue down what could be seen of the spine before merging into a deeper teal green near the belly. The belly itself was a pale yellow, blending in perfectly to the ring of daffodils just above where his elbow would be. As for the flowers themselves, they seemed to pop off the page. Bright blue iris’, with the edges of the petals tinted purple, bold red gladiolus’ with a white outline, pale yellow daffodils with brighter yellow middles… they all emerged from around the snakes body, with the gaps a deep shade of brown – the colour reminded him of his mothers’ mahogany chest – and tiny flickers of pale green leaves creating little spots of calm.

Beside the larger image was a single iris, connected to the main tattoo by two deep brown branches, with a scattering of leaves ringing it. The blues of this flower were paler – closer to the colour of his eyes, Luka realised with a blush – and the purple of the petal’s edges were the same shade as Juleka’s hair. The orange streak down each petal stood out starkly from the rest of the flower.

It was incredibly detailed, and just so much more than Luka ever thought a tattoo could be. He thought back to Rose and Juleka’s tattoos, how lifelike the flowers were, and found that he preferred this saturated, brighter than life version better. It matched perfectly against the calmer tones of the snake and stood out against the dark wood and pale greens of the supporting stems.

He sent back a response before going to bed. Luka couldn’t wait to go to Charmed Ink tomorrow.

This is amazing Marinette! I didn’t think your sketch could get any better, but you’ve blown all my expectations out of the water. Should have expected that such an incredible person can produce incredible art. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow – and get the tattoo.  

**************

The next day, a blushing Marinette waved Luka into the tattoo parlour, throwing a glare over her shoulder at where a red head was busy with another customer. “Luka! Hi! I only saw your email this morning – I was too tired yesterday to do much more than send you the design and go to bed.” She hopped up a little on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek, moving away before he could react.

“Rose! Juleka!” Rose was pulled into a hug that lifted the shorter blonde off the ground, while Juleka was greeted with a faire la bise, which his sister returned. “I believe I have you guys to thank for my newest customer!”

“Well if anyone deserves a Marinette Original tattoo, it’s Luka!” Rose chirped, “And he refused to show us the design – I can’t wait to see it!”

Juleka smirked from her other side, and Luka instantly felt on guard. It was never a good think when his sister made that face. “It’s something sappy, isn’t it? Mine and Mum’s name on a ship, or the score for his first song, or his guitar? Gods know he rarely goes anywhere without it – I had to convince him not to bring it with him today.”

Luka raised an eyebrow and wandered closer to Marinette. Her cheek kiss restored some of his earlier confidence, and he leaned into her space a little. “Marinette could make the most sappy tattoo concept into something that could even fit in with your Lady of Midnight, goth chic style. After all,” And here Luka returned Juleka’s smirk with his own, “She managed to turn your love song into a pretty cool looking tattoo.”

There was a hint of a blush on Juleka’s face as she pushed at his shoulder, making him wrap an arm around Marinette’s shoulders so that they didn’t both go over. Her first tattoo idea had been the Always from Harry Potter, surrounded by roses – Rose had always been a big fan of the series, and had actually cried onto Juleka’s shoulder as she read the last book – but when Juleka came back from the design appointment, it had been with the flower wreath concept. It maintained the original intent behind the tattoo – a permanent reminder of Rose’s impact on her life and of her feelings – while being truer to Juleka’s style and personality. Rose had loved it enough to get the same one.

Marinette glanced up at him, not bothering to move out from under his arm, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Ahh, so you’re one of those musicians. Any girl would have to fight your guitar for your affections.”

“With you, Marinette,” Luka said with a wink, “There wouldn’t be much of a battle.”

Another blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheekbones as she stuttered, almost drowned out by Juleka’s fake-gagging and Rose’s squeals. Despite that, it was a nice moment.

Of course, with Luka’s luck, someone had to break it.

The door of the tattoo parlour was slammed open, and a woman with black hair cut in a no-nonsense bob stormed inside, one hand curled around a wooden rapier. Behind her stood the blonde from last night – Adrien – and Luka’s stomach dropped.

“Marinette,” The scary woman started, “What exactly have you been tattooing on my fiancé’s chest?”

[themissinghippogriff]

| ,love james | an imagine

Sirius x Reader

Desription: (Really sweet, in my opinion and im rather proud of it) James gets tired of the amount of time reader is spending with Sirius and figures out a way to break the two up. 

W.C: 1.8k+

Warning: Eh not really

Requested

0000

James huffed as he played with his snitch, once again Sirius was off with (y/n). He hadn’t minded that much at first but it was like they were always with each other. He barely saw Sirius and even between classes she dragged him off somewhere for a snog or a bloody quickie. 

Remus suppressed a smile as he leaned against the tree, book open, “ Is everything alright, James?” he asked, a sandy brow raised. 

James let out an even heavier huff, “ Just peachy, that leech with (y/h/c) hair is an absolute Padfoot hog!” he cried in disbelief to both Peter and Remus who shared a look, as if the two had heard this a hundred times before, “ I mean at first it wasn’t a big deal-,” 

“ Easy, Prongs,” said Remus in a mild voice, “ You wouldn’t want Sirius to hear you talk about (y/n) like that,” 

Jame’s mouth dropped, “ HE’S NOT EVEN AROUND TO HEAR!” he stated before pulling himself up, the cogs in his head turning at top speed, “ And I’m going to do something about it!” 

Remus let out a sigh and looked at Peter, “ This isn’t good is it Pete?” 

Peter smiled lazily, “ Might as well sit back and watch, you know it’s not a good idea to get in between a married couple,” he quipped staring at James’s back as he marched up to the castle. 

Remus only nodded, “ Look at you, Pete, using your head for a change,” 

-

James racked his brain for an idea to break the two up, make Sirius think she slept with someone? No, too messy, same going the other way around. James might have been an ass but he wasn’t a dick, well that’s what he liked to think anyway. 

He paced back and forth around his dorm until an idea- a brilliant idea hit him like a bolt of lightning. An evil glint appeared in his eye as he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. 

(y/n) was a fairly sought out after girl, much like Sirius- he guessed that’s what drew the two together, so this idea was genius. He would write a boy in Ravenclaw, Benjy Fenwick, a love note posing as (y/n). 

He took a deep breath and with his left  hand, pressed his fingers together before doing what actors did before getting into character, but he looked more like an angry Italian if anything. He was (y/n), and then he began-

“ Dear Benjy,

I have feelings for you but I don’t know how to tell Sirius, please leave your response underneath the gargoyle on the second floor.

, Love (y/n)  “

The messy haired teen laughed maliciously, all he needed was a final touch and he knew just how to get it. Lucky for him no one else was in the common room besides first and second years. All he had to do was sneak up to the girls’ dormitory, grab her perfume, spray the letter, and get the hell out of dodge. 

He tucked the letter into his pocket, grabbed the invisibility cloak and then hurried down the stone steps. He whispered the spell to the stairway, ensuring it didn’t become a huge slide when he tried to climb it. 

He ran up the stairs, his heart racing at the thought of being caught. He made it to the fifth year dormitory and opened it slightly, peeking in to make sure there wasn’t anyone in there. He stepped into the room which looked- and smelled a lot better then his own. 

He moved over toward the dresser and saw tubes of lipstick and eyeshadow palettes but no perfume- and then he saw it. On top of (y/n)’s trunk a small glass bottle that was tinted purple. Quickly, he fished the letter out of his pocket and basically hosed down the paper with it. 

He set the bottle down and bolted. 

-

The next day during Charms when Remus wasn’t looking he slipped the paper into Benjy’s bag, undetected. Now the only thing there was left to do was wait. He sat back, a frown gracing his handsome face. He was doing the right thing, yeah? 

Sirius had to be miserable with that bird constantly up his ass, he’s just too scared to break it off with her- yeah! That was it. 

-

Later that evening James made his way to the second floor, eager to see if Benjy had written back. He was not disappointed-

“ Dear (y/n),

I can tell you this is delightful news as I’ve had a crush on you for quite some time now, and as for Sirius, just break it off. But in the meantime, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

, Love Benjy “ 

Jame’s burst into a laughing fit which quickly turned into coughing as his eyes bolted around the hallway. He caught sight of a second year looking at him with wide eyes but they scampered off after he glared. 

This was perfect, thank Merlin!

-

Before dinner James composed another letter, this time adding bit and pieces of not exactly PG rated ideas, and as he knew what the perfume bottle looked like and the name he could summon it easily. 

He placed the letter back behind the gargoyle and then headed to the Great Hall, which unsurprisingly, Sirius was nowhere to be found. 

-

James opened up his dorm to see (y/n) atop Sirius- naked. 

“ BLOODY HELL MATE!” he screamed, his hands going to his eyes, “ REMUS STAY BACK! STAY BACK!” he repeated before slamming the door shut.

Remus huffed a laugh, “ Are they going at it?” he asked. 

James shuddered, “ This is the fifth time I’ve walked in on them! I swear it’s like they want to be seen!”

-

It had been three days and James was getting impatient. He had been kicked out of his own dorm, blown off, robbed of a best friend, and his eyes assaulted far too many times! Enough was enough but the question was how to have this all come tumbling down. 

He racked his brain for ideas as he walked down the corridor one afternoon but stopped when he saw Benjy looking out at Sirius and (y/n). His fists were clenched and his eyes narrowed as he sped towards them, “ Oi, Black!” he yelled. 

Oh shit. 

“ Gerrof her!” he said, pushing (y/n) behind him, “ She doesn’t bloody want you!” 

Sirius’s eyes flashed and (y/n) looked confused as she shoved Benjy off of her, “ Excuse me?!” she sputtered, “ What the hell is your problem?!” 

Benjy’s mouth dropped, “ What are you doing?! You told me you were going to break up with him and get with me!” 

(y/n), Sirius, and James’s jaws dropped in unison at this sudden declaration. 

Sirius spun around onto (y/n), his eyes full of devastation, “ Is...Is that true?” he whispered. 

She shook her head frantically, grabbing his hand, “ No Sirius!” she gasped, her eyes pleading, “ You know me, you know I would never cheat!” 

Sirius nodded his head but didn’t meet her eyes, he took her hand from hers and turned back to Benjy, “ Shove off and let her and I talk, you damn liar,” he growled. 

James watched the whole thing go down with large hazel eyes, if this is what muggles called a soap opera then he just might get into watching them. 

The blond boy faltered but reached down into his bag and pulled out the letter that had been sent by James, unbeknownst to him. James grimaced, things were about to get ugly. 

Fenwick handed Sirius the letters, “ These were written by her, to me- smell them! She sprayed them with perfume,” 

James rubbed his hands together as a fly would, but little did he know he was about to get smacked in the face with the newest rolled up  addition of vogue, “ This isn’t her handwriting- nor is it her perfume,” bit out Sirius, throwing the letters back in Benjy’s face who paled. 

Oh shit. 

(y/n) picked up one of the letter’s and sniffed, “ This… this is Emmaline’s perfume,” she said, her eyes hurt. Jame’s eyes practically bulged out of his head, she thought Emmaline had done it. 

His stomach soured as guilt made a home in his chest, the realization that he had not only roped Fenwick into his little play, but Em as well. 

Fenwick bolted back up to the castle as (y/n) wiped at her eyes, “ Why would Emmy do this,” she sniffed, “ She’s my best friend,” 

Sirius didn’t know what to do, “ I’m sorry love, but… it doesn’t seem like she is,” 

James’ heart lurched as he replaced the names. He acting as Emmaline, (y/n) as Sirius, and Sirius as her. He had fucked up, royally. 

She said something to Sirius who nodded. She started off toward Gryffindor tower while Sirius watched her go with sad eyes, running a hand through his dark locks before making his way to the hall for dinner. 

James chased after her, “ Oi! (y/l/n)!” he yelled before she could reach the staircase. She stopped and turned to him with a curious look. 

“ Yes, James?” 

He opened his mouth but nothing came out, he struggled but in the end his voice came through, “ It was me,” he said quietly, “ I sent the notes,”

Her eyes widened and her hand went to her heart, “ What? W-Why?” she asked. 

James rubbed the back of his neck, “ Because I was jealous and I felt like… I felt like you had stolen my best mate,” 

Her eyes flashed with anger, “ Are you bloody thick, James Potter?!” she demanded, “ Steal Sirius from you? Are you kidding?!” she asked in disbelief, “ Sirius loves you so much! I could never steal him from you!”

James shrunk back, his eyes on the ground, “ I’m sorry I was wrong, but please, Emmaline had nothing to do with this, it was all me,” 

She was silent, “ I appreciate your honesty, “ she murmured, “ But don’t think I’m not telling Sirius,” 

-

James hung his head as Sirius yelled at him and afterwards he slammed the door, leaving James to feel horrible. 

It was three days later and Sirius hadn’t spoken to him, and that was when (y/n) came up to him, a frown on her face, “ C’mon, James,” she said, “ Let’s go get your best mate back,” 

-

Sirius was eating breakfast when a letter swayed down in front of his face, landing near his plate. It was addressed to him but didn’t have a name. The teenager opened it-

“ Dear Sirius,

I know you’re absolutely pissed at me but I just want you to know how sorry I am, I know I fucked up. I’ve apologized to (y/n) over and over and she had the idea for me to write you a letter… ironic huh? Once again I’m so sorry Padfoot, and I promise I’ll never do something as stupid as this again. 

, Love James”

Sirius sniffed the letter and chuckled, that git had really sprayed it with his cologne. He looked down the table to find his girlfriend staring at him with a soft smile. He returned it, getting up to go find his best mate. 

---

@writingwieny​ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ :)

[myrainydayloves]

Wedding Bells

(You Already Know What It Is)

Pardon me is everybody because if everybody’s here, I’d like to thank you all for coming

Annaka had never felt more fear than when she woke up May 8th. She was stirred by her alarm, moving her hand through the group of girls piled around each other. But the alarm stopped without her touch and she snuggled back into the warmth of the cuddle pile. 

“Nuh-Uh! Up you go! Shower and then breakfast!” Scolded her maid of honor trying to pull her from the snuggle group. 

“Five more minutes, Mom,” Annaka mumbled, trying to crawl back under Anita’s blanket. 

“Annaka!” 

“Maryyyyy,” she moaned, finally beginning to untangle herself from the other women. “I don’t wanna get married today. Tell Cross we can do it tomorrow,” she joked. 

Mary did not find this as amusing, having spent hundreds of hours with Annaka planning the event. Capri echoed this statement by verbally telling Annaka to shut the fuck up and get ready. 

By the time Annaka had exited the shower, Mary had roused the rest of the women in the sleepover and sent them to the various bathrooms to wash up. A truly outstanding show of abilities in her opinion. There was a light breakfast of sliced fruit and toast waiting them and coffee brewing. 

She dragged her hands over the table that had been her place of residence within the home for the last decade and felt it was foreign under her touch.  Even the kitchen where Annaka spent hours preparing meals, where she’d shared so many tender morning moments with him, was new to her. 

Maybe because it was going to be hers now. Theirs, technically. But going from stranger to guest to owner was as weird for the house as it was her. 

She ate toast, drank from a mug her son had made her back when he was only twelve, and looked through the grimy kitchen window that housed a plant Cross couldn’t keep alive. The window about the sink was his responsibility, Annaka was adamant about and so far if had only seen soap five times in the ten years she’d been here. 

“Lazy bastard,” Annaka whispered into the mug like it was the sweetest nickname. 

Yen clapped her on the shoulder. “Glad to see you’re still in love. I was worried you’d get cold feet.”

“Now is your last chance to back out,” Anita teased. “If you little boy Lavi was here he’d give you the total debt but I reckon it’s around-“

“Lavi’s not little anymore,” Annaka interrupted. “He’s in college for god’s sakes.”

“He’s still your little boy though, isn’t he?” Capri teased.

“They’re both still my little boys,” she whispered into the mug. “It’s just now my name’s going on the adoption papers too.”

So after breakfast, Mary was rushing them into the various cars to the chapel. Annaka rode with Mary to go over any last minute changes. As the sun started to rise over their home, Annaka was leaving it to return as a wife. 

The little boys in question met the bridal party outside the church. All dressed up uncomfortably in their suits, smiling like church boys who’d stolen extra communion wine. The venue itself was a church, grand and tall, one of the most beautiful in the entire city. It was covered in stained glass windows and arches that were once white turned yellow by age. And today it would serve its purpose as a house of love instead of the usual house of confession. 

“Babies,” Annaka whispered to them, climbing out of the car to kiss their cheeks. “I hope you don’t have any objections today.”

“Oh I have a whole list,” Lavi teased. “Starting with the time you didn’t get me a mouse shaped pretzel at Disneyland. Can’t let a woman like that marry Cross.”

Allen gave her a sweet smile, like all the ones he’d given her as a little boy and hugged her tightly. Whatever fear or anxiety she’d been holding poured out of her as she returned the hug, pulling him close. She leaned back, brushed the hair out of his eyes, and hugged him again. 

“So,” Allen started. “How am I gonna tell you that instead of peonies they sent tulips and they’re white not pink?”

“They did what?!” Mary cried. “I specifically asked for peonies! It took me two hours to find a shop with peonies in the spring!”

Yen rubbed Mary’s shoulder with a teasing smirk. “There there, let’s get you all dressed up.”

“I’m serious!” Mary cried, reaching for her phone as the women walked into the church. 

The dress still fit, so that was good, she thought. She twisted and turned in the mirror, struggling to see whatever Cross was marrying her for before giving up. The flowers were here, though they were white and not pink, but that was fine. It was fine. 

A soft knock at the door. 

“Are you ready? Because they’re ready for you,” an attendant whispered. 

“Uh yes,” she mumbled. 

As her shoes met threadbare carpet, she thought about running one last time. But her feet grew roots and planted themselves in front of the grand doors. 

The worst part of all this, she thought as they began to open was that Cross had been right. 

The church was the best idea for the venue. Light poured down from the windows, birds that lived in the bell tower chirped, and the acoustics were amazing. It was like stepping into a painting or perhaps becoming a part of it. 

Only when the doors finally opened fully and the organ started to play did she dare look into the church. Her heart jumped when she saw him there. Regal and fine and waiting patiently, he looked like he would stand there for hours waiting for her to arrive. 

And she couldn’t figure out why. 

Annaka suddenly felt like she was drowning again. Like the waves of fate had finally pulled her under. Then he turned, caught her eye, and looked stunned. There were no tears or smirk, just genuine disbelief this was really happening. 

And then he started to smile. 

There are no words to explain how it feels to see your life validated. To see your work and your past spread out for you like a quilt. To realize that it was time to tie everything in a tidy bow and give up trying to make it bigger. 

So she moved. Step by step she moved towards him, afraid that the longer she stayed on a different side of the ocean of fabric, she would lose him. And then she wasn’t walking down the alley. 

Annaka was running. 

Home was in sight and it welcomed her with a stupid smirk and open arms. In the second he touched her arm, she was safe again, reminded and comfortable under the blanket. 

“Wow, you look….” Cross laughed a bit. “Well I was going to tease you and say you looked a bit desperate running towards me like that but...you look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, knees shaking in a way they never did. 

“Relax. If anyone should be scared here, it’s me. Allen threatened to kill me if I got a single word wrong in my vows.”

“Oh shit, knew I was forgetting something” Annaka teased. 

As they settled into a comfortable standing position, the priest read out lines and palms. And then it was time. 

Cross looked up. “Did you wanna go first? I have something in my eyes.”

“Tears?”

“No, I think a storm of dust-of course it’s tears!” He snapped, looking down at her. She pressed a hand to his cheek and smiled. 

“Compose yourself, My Love. I’ll go first though I can’t promise you won’t be bawling by the end.”

“Show off.”

“Cross-“

“Oh god, wait just-“ He pulled her hand back to his cheek, letting her hand lovingly cup his cheek and nodded, tears silently flowing down his cheeks. 

“There are a lot of things I wanted to say here. Honestly I could have us here for hours. But I will keep it brief,” she took a breath. “For ten years, we raised two children together. And not once, in those ten years, did I ever feel anything but grateful to Mary for calling me. I never regretted pack up everything in my tiny apartment in Seattle to move here even though it was very scary. Because from the moment I met you: I was in love with you.”

She took a second to wipe away some of the tears beginning to flood his face. “Really. I was. You made my life comfortable, gave me what I always dreamed of: a home and a family and a loving husband. No matter what you may think, you’ve given me so so much. So to repay you, I vow to stay with you. To kiss you in the morning, to let you steal my coffee, to watch you work in the garage. I promise that I will always be in love with your genius, your charm, your charisma. I love you so deeply even your flaws shine brightly to me.”

“I love you. And I swear I always will.”

He leaned in towards her and she helped shield his vulnerability from prying eyes. After a minute of silent sobbing he stood up, dried his tears, then dried his glasses, and started. 

“I have sacrificed so much to get something. I have left some many broken paths and people behind me that if I tried to make amends I wouldn't know where to start. I am such a pain in the ass-“

“Not to me,” she teased. 

“Never to you. I’ve never had someone love me so unconditionally.” Allen couldn’t resist a small cough and Lavi quietly kicked him. With a roll of his eyes, Cross corrected himself. “I’ve never had a woman love me so-“

Anita leaned out to glare at him. 

“For the love of Christ, can I get through my vows?” He snapped. With renewed energy and speed, he said, “I guess I won’t have the chance to wax poetic until later, my love. But you are, without a doubt, one of the most talented people I’ve met. Not just in poetry but in everything. And you do it while looking….so beautiful. Even when you’re asleep at the table, hair falling from your bun, pen marks on your face, I am blown away by you. I love you.”

“So I vow to love you forever,” he finished. Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I’ll give the full speech later when we’re not surrounded by idiots.”

“I heard that,” Allen whispered, also leaning in. 

Mary leaned in next and brandished her bouquet like a sword. “Shut. Up. If we run behind because no one we know understands how to be quiet for more than a minute, I’m going to get very angry.”

“Sorry, Ms. Mary.”

The priest did not chance asking for objections with this couple. Partly because they’d already proven themselves to be a small comedy trope and partly because despite the crying or glaring faces, he felt there was no one in the room that had anything real to say. He gave Cross a nod, who then nodded at Annaka, who giggled and nodded back.

“I, Crоss Marian, take you, Annaka, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life.“

“I, Annaka, take you, Crоss Marian, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life.”

With a smile he reserved only for weddings, the priest said, “You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide. Amen...sorry. You may now kiss the bride.”

The cheer that erupted from the pews was the loudest the church ever heard, with friends and family all swarming to hug the new united couple at the stand. There were a lot of ‘You did it’-s or ‘Damn, she actually went through with it?’-s and there were a lot of tears.

But despite the chaos and excitement, Cross stared at Annaka and she stared back, lost in each other’s eyes. There was an entire life outside that, to the pair, had always been so cruel, so unkind. But now, with two small bands of gold, the pair felt more than ready to face it.

Together.

[lady-charinette]

A Clawful Plan & A Pawssibly Good Day (Chapter 10) - Dinner for Two Marichat Fic

A Clawful Plan & A Pawssibly Good Day

Plagg quietly sipped at his coffee the next morning, idly watching Pierre set down the chairs for the morning hours when the restaurant would open for business.

His voice seemed loud in the emptiness of the large space and the lack of the usual talk of the crowd and bustling kitchen, “Did Adrien say when he would be back today?”

The chair scraped slightly against the floor and Pierre pushed it under the table neatly, a sigh escaping him, “He said to expect him just before-“

The doors opened as if on cue and the blond himself walked in, hoodie pulled down deeper to cover his face, hair messy, “Hello Pierre, Plagg.” Adrien moved the protective cover of the hoodie away from his face, smiling tiredly at his friends, “I’m sorry for being late, had late night shoots yesterday and an exam earlier this morning.” He didn’t have any eyebags, he couldn’t allow himself to, being a model, but Plagg could definitely see the exhaustion in that green stare.

“Why don’t ya take the day off? It’s a Wednesday.” Wednesdays were reserved for Adrien to freely study for university if his schedules called for it, like upcoming exams or catching up with lost lectures or attend events his father forced him to go to.

Adrien rubbed his chin, resting his hand on his hip and Plagg snickered at the model pose, “Wednesdays are always so full of customers, are you guys going to be alright?” he scratched the back of his head, a sign he was uncomfortable with ditching work.

Pierre offered a kind smile, “Of course, you don’t have to worry at all Adrien. Just make sure to keep up with your studies and don’t forget to rest too.”

Adrien smiled at the elder man, bowing slightly in gratitude, “Thank you Pierre.” He looked at Plagg, who was watching him curiously, “Plagg, don’t trash the VA room again, please.”

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes playfully, “Yeah, yeah, mom don’t worry. Now shoo and go before I change my mind and sit your ass down here.” Plagg was about to take a sip of his coffee before an arm planted itself around his shoulders abruptly and a hand roughly ruffled his already messy raven hair.

“Thanks Plagg, Pierre! You guys are the best!” with a smile to Pierre, the blond raced out of the restaurant, leather bag filled with today’s lecture papers.

Pierre chuckled at the dark, murderous frown on Plagg’s face, “Shut it old man.”

Pierre’s expression changed drastically, a brief flicker of something more sinister shining in those old, brown eyes, “Excuse me, Plagg?”

The raven haired man stiffened, “A-Apologies sir!”

The old butler nodded approvingly, his usual friendly disposition in place and Plagg sighed in relief, sagging further into his seat, muttering about secret demon butlers and pesky blonds.

His phone vibrated with a new message and he lazily took it out, quickly typing in the password and opening the messages.

They were from Tikki.

‘Good morning stinky sock! I hope the cheese cake I made you yesterday was alright. Have a nice day at work, catch you for lunch tomcat!’

A heartwarming smile softened his normally sharp features, Pierre discreetly watching the man’s lips transform into a gentle smile as he typed a reply.

‘Morning, sugar cube. Of course it was, it was purrfect. Don’t overwork yourself either today, I’ll wait for you with lunch outside the shop.’

Adding a silly emoji at the end, Plagg sent his message taking another sip of his coffee.

For some reason, it tasted sweeter.

------------

Marinette stubbed her toe against the desk, cursing under her breath and Nathaniel paused in his sketch to look over his shoulder curiously, a sympathetic smile on his lips, “You okay?”

The dark haired woman sighed, slumping back onto her chair, “Fine…”

Nathaniel set his pencil down and turned towards his friend completely, “Sure? You don’t look that fine to me. When did you go to sleep?” he had always had an eye for detail, ever since his childhood days where he first began to draw every day. It also meant he nearly always picked up on miniscule details other people failed to notice.

As often as Marinette wore very little to no make-up, today she had applied a thicker layer under her eyes, which blended into her skin tone to hide the dark eyebags.

Marinette should’ve known Nathaniel knew better, she gingerly touched the smooth skin beneath her eye, “That obvious?” she offered a tired smile and Nathaniel shook his head.

“To me, yes, but not to others.” His small smile stretched into a concerned frown, “Seriously, what’s up? You’ve been on edge lately. We made the deal with that model and the fashion event is only a few days away, I would be relaxed in your stead.” The red-head crossed his arms, carefully observing the woman before him who wrung her hands in her lap nervously before her.

A drawn out sigh and a groan followed her next words, “I know but-! Argh!” she threw her hands in the air, standing up and pacing back and forth in a line, hands gesticulating wildly, “Have you ever met a person you thought was really funny and kind and interesting but like, you don’t know them all too well and you suddenly see a different side to them that you didn’t expect and you don’t like that side of them and you feel really helpless and frustrated?!” Marinette still continued to pace before hands clasped onto her shoulders and Nathaniel gently grabbed her attention by turning her towards him.

“Hey, easy, stop trying to walk holes into our floor.” Nathaniel soothingly squeezed her shoulders again, “I…I guess I can relate to what you’re saying Marinette.” The surprised look she gave him made the professor chuckle, “Remember Chloe? I used to have a bit of a crush on her in primary school, until she started with that bullying anyway. That went away pretty fast. I mean, I don’t really think it’s the same as your situation, but I can relate with the liking someone and not liking certain aspects of them thing. It’s natural.” He shrugged, noticing her calming down slowly, “…Want some coffee?”

Slumping her shoulders, Marinette nodded and Nathaniel led her toward the kitchen, setting up fresh coffee while Marinette slowly started talking about the restaurant she frequented in her breaks.

Once both steaming coffee mugs were in front of them, along with a cookie plate inbetween, did Nathaniel stare at the woman in bewilderment, “W-Wait…you…you’re saying there’s…a toy?” Nathaniel still tried to wrap his head around the quick explanation Marinette had given him, about her recent behavior, her extended breaks, everything. “And…there’s a guy voicing that toy and you…started liking him?” Nathaniel rubbed at his chest, feeling a stinging sensation there, but he tried to curb it.

Marinette, pink faced, slowly nodded, “I mean, maybe ‘liking’ is a bit strong, I mean, he’s really nice and funny! I like his puns! And he keeps me company while I eat, he’s easy to talk to and get along with and well, I don’t know! I l-like his voice okay!?” Marinette slapped her hands to her face, the tips of her ears a beet red and Nathaniel burst into laughter at her shy reaction, “S-Stop laughing! I’ll demote you!” the threat was empty, but it sounded adorable coming from her red face.

Nathaniel coughed a few times, trying to hold in the chuckles trying to come out, before he took a sip of his coffee and it finally died down, “So…you like his voice, huh?” Nathaniel adjusted the collar of his shirt, feeling slight embarrassment bubbling within his own chest at how cute Marinette reacted.

“Ugh, Nath!” Marinette looked ready to spontaneously combust or throw something at him, “It’s-I-I mean- it’s not like I-“ she backtracked, eyes blown wide, elbows planted on the table and hiding her eyes, “Uhm…I…actually did see him.”

The professor’s eyes flew open, leaning forward over the table, “Wait, what? You did? When? How comes you didn’t tell me?” he tried pinpointing when it could’ve possibly been, maybe the time she visited him? But that meant she saw him on campus and that was highly impo-

“I-I met him after your lectures…I kinda bumped into him in the hallway…”

Nathaniel choked.

“What does he look like? What’s his name?” alright, maybe Nathaniel was getting too excited to know this guy, but he definitely wanted the best for her, even if it meant throwing his own infatuation out of the window.

He tried ignoring the prickly, painful sensations in his heart.

“H-His name’s Erik, he’s a bit taller than me, messy dark hair, he likes to joke around and um, he teaches art psychology or uh, art therapy in your university.”

Nathaniel’s body froze and his blood ran cold.

Images conjured up in his mind.

Memories of the past two years of him working as a professor to be exact.

And him.

‘Yo, Kurtzberg, playing with colors again? You’ve got something there on your cheek.’

‘Hey tomato-head, cooped up alone in that room, doesn’t that drive you up the wall? Go out and have some fun, maybe you’ll get some friends along the way!’

“Nathaniel?” Marinette rose an eyebrow at the vacant stare he seemed to have set on a fixed point on the table and she waved her hand.

‘Heh, this looks like a bird shit on it, if I have to guess what’s on your mind, I think the answer stays the same dontcha think?’

‘Most artists only dream of being able to tell what art truly means like us therapists, it’s a shame you chose the weaker craft of the two.’

“Nathaniel? Hey! Earth to Nathaniel!” the man jumped, as if ripped from his own thoughts, wide eyes looking at her.

“Uh, s-sorry, I-uh, got lost in thoughts.” He scratched his head, ruffling his already messy hair.

Marinette noticed the familiar almost haunted look in his eyes, it reminded her of her younger days when she used to be bullied in school. Her hand reached across the table and settled lightly over his fist, “Does he treat you badly at work?”

She had a hunch, but she couldn’t picture it. It didn’t fit together, the picture she had of Chat Noir when she was in the restaurant and when she met him at campus.

Maybe she was wrong, after all.

Nathaniel smiled weakly, “Don’t worry, I tell him off politely whenever he tries to act all alpha male on me. I’ve learned a thing or two following high school.” He winked reassuringly, and patted Marinette’s hand closed over his fist, “It’s just, I always had bad vibes about him, before he started being a jerk to me. He just spells trouble.” He noticed the conflicted look on her face, “But don’t let my personal judgement influence your own, if you say he acts differently in the restaurant, maybe the jerk behavior is just an act? Maybe it’s just me.”

At that, Marinette immediately shook her head, “No! Don’t think that for a second! I don’t know what it is but I’ll find out, he can’t treat any of my friends that way if…if I really do end up liking him that much.” She looked unsure of herself and Nathaniel hated seeing her like that.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly, “I wouldn’t worry too much Marinette, if he likes you, he will realize what a mistake it is in letting you go.”

Marinette flushed, smiling warmly at him, “Thanks Nath, I can always count on you to cheer me up when I need it.” She grinned awkwardly, “Well, except Alya as your female counterpart.”

Nathaniel smiled.

-----------

Adrien almost groaned in bliss at the explosion in his mouth, the delicious pastry from the bakery he grabbed on the way felt like the first taste of heaven after enduring weeks of hell.

He was on his way to catch up on his studies at Nino’s place, before getting ready for the fashion event later this afternoon, he had enough time to pour over the new materials his professor gave him before he had to drive towards the address for the fashion event, of course hosted by Agreste Fashion, with a model wearing a dress made a growing designer. He hadn’t caught the designer’s name, but according to conversations he overheard, the designer must be good at their craft with decent production time.

He hoped to get breaks in-between, he hadn’t eaten much except for the pastry and a small breakfast in the morning before the exam. He bet Nino had some leftovers from yesterday, maybe even something edible in the fridge.

Nino was a surprisingly good cook, courtesy of Nora who loved and treated him like he was her very own little brother since his and Alya’s high school days. Nino mentioned Nora being a bit of a tough nut, instead of showering him with affection, she usually showered him with ‘tough love’ when she visited, whatever that meant.

Adrien smiled when he spotted the building Nino’s apartment was in, he also remembered the very stunned look the DJ gave him when he humbly asked to temporarily share living quarters.

‘Sure dude, you know you’re always welcome, but what happened? Did you lose your apartment? Did your dad piss you off?’

As probable as the last possibility was, Adrien had explained what the true reason was, his apartment was empty.

Not furniture-wise.

It lacked warmth.

It lacked everything a room with people living in it should have, warmth, personal belongings, trinkets that were useless or not that pretty but were still held dear.

Trivial things that made his father scrunch his nose.

Trivial things that made Adrien smile because they reminded him of his mother, when she would take little trinkets and souvenirs from places she would visit for her roles and bring back with her.

Adrien himself didn’t have much, not many personal things, the things he recently got that were closer to his heart were pictures of him and Nino. Those were already in his apartment, one in a frame, the other clipped to a piece of string he remembered seeing in Nino’s house all those years ago, when they were still teens. It inspired him to do something similar, it felt so personal, so real.

For now, only Nino’s picture hung there, they also made a few pictures with Alya at the club as a memory, those would come there too.

Adrien hoped many more would come. Maybe even some with a certain dark haired woman with bluebell eyes.

He took out the spare keys Nino gave him, quickly unlocking the front door and jogging up the stairs before finding the door to Nino’s apartment already unlocked.

Was Nino home?

Adrien pushed the door open, stepping in and setting the keys in a bowl near the doorway, taking his shoes off, “Nino?” he called out, already smelling something delicious wafting in from the kitchen.

“M’ here dude!” the boisterous voice of his friend called back and a small smile lit Adrien’s entire face as he made his way towards the kitchen.

The rooms were small, but enough for one, or two to comfortably live in.

Nino was sitting at the kitchen table, steaming plate in front of him, fork rolling around in the sea of noodles, vegetables and sauce, “Hey man, grab a plate and join me, you haven’t eaten anything much, right?”

The blond snorted softly, shaking his head as he fixed himself a plate and glass of water, “It’s scary how well you know me after all those years.”

The DJ grinned boyishly, gently punching his friend in the shoulder, “Once a model, always a model, huh?”

Adrien chuckled, “Once a friend, always a friend.” Nino’s teasing expression softened, and he nodded immediately, both men chuckling.

“I thought you were in the studio practicing for that gig you were hired for?” Adrien had to admit, even if Nino was nowhere near Marlena’s caliber of cooking, the food was still good.

He wolfed down the veggies and noodles when Nino started talking, “I was, in the morning though. It’s already two in the afternoon, don’t tell me you forgot how to read the clock?”

Adrien rolled his eyes playfully, “I forgot the time, it flew by so fast after that exam, I was just rushing from one point to the next.” Nino spotted the leather bag set on the couch in the connected living room, frowning in concern.

“Aw man, you still gotta study, huh?”

The blond shrugged, swallowing down the noodles, “Yeah, but I should be done in no time. It’s not that much, besides I still need to get ready for that event today, so I’ll go over to my apartment to prepare. I think I’ll sleep there too, so don’t stay up late okay?”

Nino huffed, taking a big gulp of water, “Whatever you say, mom. Just drive safe and don’t drink too much, young man.” Nino imitated the voice of an old woman and both men, despite themselves, burst out laughing at their silly antics.

Adrien enjoyed these things.

Whenever he entered Nino’s apartment, it always reminded him of home, or the closest thing he could associate to it. It reminded him of their school days and strong friendship and what a good man Nino was.

The two men continued eating and chatting and laughing, even after half an hour went by, Adrien felt at ease, the papers in his bag temporarily forgotten, the fashion event forgotten.

All that mattered was the food, his friend, the atmosphere.

It smelled – it felt – like home.

-------------------

Erik strolled across campus leisurely, scanning his schedule for his next class, when he spotted the familiar sight of a certain dark haired woman in the distance.

A grin automatically stretched his lips and he waved to catch her attention, “Marinette! Hey!”

The woman jumped, surprised by the call before she relaxed upon noticing him and waving back.

Erik walked up to her and smiled down at her, “Hey, visiting tom-uh Nathaniel again?”

Marinette smiled, “Hey Erik. Yeah, I just wanted to go over a few things concerning work, I won’t be a bother for too long.” Erik looked around, that explained why she waited near his office too.

Erik planted his hands in his pockets, “I see. So, you don’t have some time today, huh?”

She flashed him an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, I don’t. I have to help organize a fashion event and help dress the models.”

His interest peaked at the word ‘models’, “Models, huh? Mind if I watch?” the grin on his face was positively feral, but the look in Marinette’s eyes hardened to steel.

“Watch?” she rose an eyebrow and Erik backtracked quickly.

“You know, your work, how you work.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway, I may not make it actually, I have classes starting soon until late. See ya tomorrow, purrhaps?”

A smile made its way on the frown previously marring her pretty features and Marinette nodded, “Sure. Good luck on your lectures!”

“Yeah, you too!” he waved and moved towards the long stairs ahead.

Marinette sighed, rubbing her arm.

--------------

A few hours later…

Flashing lights, clicking heels and painted faces greeted Marinette as soon as she entered.

Paparazzi, bodyguards and models as far as the eye can see.

There were so many people.

She took a breath, before carrying her designs and bag with designing tools towards the changing areas. It didn’t take her long at all to spot a model, or several of them.

Most were doing their make-up, chatting or doing pep talks. Marinette couldn’t fault them for it, she would be a jittery, nervous mess if she would’ve even have to imagine stepping foot onto a catwalk, or anywhere where hundreds of eyes would be on her.

She wasn’t good in the spotlight.

After greeting and going over the minor details and major parts of the show, Marinette helped them put on the dresses she designed, feeling at the same time odd but comfortable, handling something that was hers, her very own work in her hands, and helping models put them on, adjusting things and offering advice.

It felt liberating but also frightening, like an otherworldly experience.

Marinette wasn’t new to fashion nor to handling fabrics or designs, but she was new to this; the spotlights, the flashing cameras, the crowded fashion galas with hundreds of models running up and down looking for their agents, bodyguards or organizers.

She smiled kindly when another model thanked her for her help in braiding her hair, it wasn’t part of the job, but she would help wherever she could if it meant easing the anxious looks on the young women’s faces.

She wasn’t much older than them and yet, she felt obligated to keep them as comfortable and relaxed as possible under these circumstances.

Some models were seasoned experts, doing breathing exercises or small, personal rituals. Some were tracing patterns on their hands to calm themselves, others were looking in the mirror and silently encouraging themselves, some were chatting with others while again others were drinking juices or water to distract them from the big event which would open any minute.

It was almost time to shine.

Marinette excused herself from the changing rooms, making sure the models were taken care of before she stepped out.

The large, luxurious ballroom was filled to the brim with people. Some were already sitting, looking like they belonged to the VIPs or high end people who would asses the event. Others in suits were chatting amongst themselves near the buffet, people with cameras were keeping a low profile and trying to discreetly take pictures without disturbing the guests too much.

Marinette was glad she had the pass around her neck, people would mistake her for some lost woman who accidentally stumbled into this fine establishment and not a semi-respected designer whose work was about to be put up on stage.

She took a deep, staggering breath, accepting a glass of orange juice from a waiter who was parading around with a plate full of champagne and orange juice glasses.

She gulped the liquid down in nearly one go, frayed nerves still breaking at the seams, but at least she was sure she was hydrated.

Marinette decided to mingle about the crowd, greeting a few other designers she’d met a handful of times, but otherwise keeping to herself.

Due to so many people, there wasn’t much room for individual people to really distance themselves from the crowd. It was inevitable to hear some private conversations.

Marinette pretended to enjoy the ambience while subtly listening in on any remotely interesting conversation topics.

She spotted a group of male models a few steps away, talking, some chuckling. Almost all of them had bathrobes on, they would obviously come up on stage later, after the female models were done with their performances.

As Marinette tried to slip past the group of males, back towards the changing rooms to check on her models, she nearly tripped over her own feet when a particular voice caught her attention.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining it, but when she turned around, there were several models talking, it was impossible to say which voice belonged to whom. There was a blond with green eyes, a brunet with blue eyes, several black haired guys with brown eyes.

But there was only one name that hit her like a lightning bolt when she heard a familiar voice sound from among the group.

Chat Noir?

Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoyed it :3 By the way, is the plot advancing too fast?