COOKING SHRIMPS IN 3 SECONDS.
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Please watch this.
WATCH THIS
THEN WATCH THE DUMPLING ONE
I’M CRYING. I’M ACTUALLY CRYING I’M LAUGHING SO HARD.
The dumpling one. For your viewing pleasure.
COOKING SHRIMPS IN 3 SECONDS.
Please watch this.
WATCH THIS
THEN WATCH THE DUMPLING ONE
I’M CRYING. I’M ACTUALLY CRYING I’M LAUGHING SO HARD.
Adrienette Christmas
Happy birthday, Season! I wrote a fluff piece for you since you’ve been doing it for everyone else ;) It’s the very first one I’ve written so I apologize in advance for poor grammar.
The annual Agreste Fashions’ Christmas Party was approaching. Fashion designers, models, photographers, set designers, lighting and camera men, even the interns that ran around like crazy fetching coffee or running final copies were invited to the biggest Paris event of the year. Marinette, who had recently been hired as an assistant to one of the designers, had received, RSVP’d, and invited Alya as her plus one all before realizing that going meant seeing him.
Adrien and Marinette had been avoiding each other since the big reveal. Not because of anger, but the dynamic had shifted afterwards. Adrien didn’t know how to treat Marinette out of costume and kept calling her ‘My Lady’, earning a lot of weird looks from their friends. Marinette didn’t know how to turn off the awkward in costume and would just catch herself… staring, let’s just say. Staring instead of catching an akuma. Several attacks were prolonged because of this and the press had picked up on it. They had on their own decided the best course of action was to avoid each other as much as possible. Trading parole shifts, tackling the akumas as best they could on their own before the other had to show up, and definitely no interactions out of the masks. It was easier to pretend to be someone else if you couldn’t see their blush.
Alya wouldn’t let Marinette out. They arrived, were seated, and enjoyed the award ceremony all by themselves. After the last award was given out, gentle music started and the party dispersed into dancing, conversation, and eating. As they were both 18 now, they drank the champagne and wine until they had worked themselves into a warm blush from their heads to their toes. They made rounds around the room, laughing amongst themselves before Alya excused herself to ask some questions of a photographer.
Marinette leaned against the edge of a buffet table, white skirt billowing around her ankles and watched the room. She had spotted Chloe a few times, looking more like a disco ball than a girl, but other than that there was no one she really recognized. She swayed slightly to the music and watched an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Capelle, move closer and closer together, never once breaking eye contact.
“You know, they’ve been married for 48 years,” Marinette jumped at the sudden voice, pushing the table back ever so slightly and causing a shriek of metal on tile to resound across the room.
“A-Adrien!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Marinette. I thought you saw me heading over,” he pointed to a table directly in her eye line. She blushed; she had been too caught up in the atmosphere of the room. “I saw you and figured I’d ask,” he cleared his throat roughly, “ask if you’d like to dance?”
“Dance? Um, I don’t know if I-“
“She’d love to,” Alya had returned, toting Nino. “She was just telling me how bored she is watching everyone else dance. What great happenstance you saw her!” Marinette shot her a look but, of all the friends in the world, it seemed she had picked the one least likely to give up their position of wing woman. “Nino just asked me to dance as well. Weird how your plus one and your plus one just so happen to be a couple, huh?” She winked and spun into Nino’s waiting arms. To an onlooker, the two seemed to have come together in their matching purple and black. They galloped away, much to the annoyance of the dancers who were trying to keep pace with the waltz.
“Shall we?” Adrien dipped low, extending his hand. He peeked up at her through his eyelashes and grinned, his Chat Noir showing through. Suddenly, it was a challenge.
Marinette stuck up her nose and smirked, “Sure. But you have to keep up with me.” She moved her skirts out of the way and they waltzed to the center of the floor. Adrien was an experienced dancer but Marinette had a more graceful air about her. They matched each other perfectly and, when Marinette inevitably tripped on her skirts, Adrien plucked her up before she could fall. She would have swooned had it not been for her embarrassment.
They resumed dancing until Nino and Alya returned to them, holding wine for all four. The clock above the stage showed eleven and the crowd had started to disperse. Sipping their wine, the four moved back to the walls. The band had given reigns to an iPhone as they packed up, but the soft Christmas music added to the ambiance of the room. The gold lights twinkled around the group and their soft voices made for a pretty greeting card, Marinette decided. Nino suggested a karaoke bar and they left the warm hall for the snow covered streets.
“Just you wait, boys, my girl Mari has the voice of a saint,” Alya skipped ahead and turned around, tottering on her feet. “Also, I have a voice of a saint. Don’t I, Nino?”
“The best, babe,”
“How much did you two drink?” Adrien reached out his arms as though to steady her, but she corrected her footing before she fell.
“I only had 4 glasses of champagne and 2 glasses of red wine; you’re welcome. Nino over here almost bankrupt the whole Agreste family fortune because he drank 6 glasses of wine. I only had two. Those glasses weren’t even filled half way, can you believe it? Cheap.”
“Light weight,” Mari teased.
“You can’t even tell I’m under the influence.” Alya tugged her skirt down so that it rest slightly below her knees, “I’m freezing. If we go on ahead, I’ll be warm. Come!” She turned with a flourish, stumbled, and jogged forward.
“I’m going to keep up with her. Those glasses may not have been too full, but she downed them like shots.” Nino loosed his tie and ran to catch up to the escaping drunkard.
The silence that followed ate at Marinette. While dancing, they hadn’t spoken of anything other than the winter collection and upcoming spring collection and they had exhausted the subject. She struggled to think of anything else, but came up blank.
“Voice of a saint?” She turned and met the eyes that make her heart stutter.
“Apparently. I can’t even think of when Alya has heard me sing.”
“My lady, you are full of surprises. I’m sure you probably sang while sewing or something and Alya picked up on it.”
They fell into awkward silence. My lady, Marinette thought, I’m not your lady; Ladybug is. She watched the slush seep into the hem of her dress, dulling the white. She had added enough tulle to keep the snow from reaching her ankles but if she didn’t hurry it would be a matter of time before she had Popsicle feet. She glanced at Adrien. He too was watching his feet, face red. She couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from his slip up.
“What do you sing?” Adrien asked. He refused to look at her but seemed to be uncomfortable with letting the quiet persist.
“Anything, I guess.” Don’t mention you only sing in the shower, she pleaded with herself. “It’s been mostly Christmas songs here recently but that obvious. The acoustics in the bathroom are incredible.” Damn. “I mean, I also sing while driving probably. Or… or baking. Not just in the bathroom. I’m pretty sure. It’s, like, 40% shower, but split pretty evenly between driving, sewing, and baking.” Oh my god, shut up.
He chuckled a little, finally meeting her eyes, “Well, either way, I can’t wait to hear you sing.”
They fell quiet again. Tikki, in a hidden pocket of the dress, pushed against Marinette’s leg, both as a hug and reassurance she wasn’t alone. Marinette took a deep breath, shakily exhaled and began to sing.
She didn’t consider it singing, not really. How can you when your diaphragm isn’t fighting to escape or when your volume barely raises above a whisper? But she sang. Silent Night filled the streets of Paris, the moon reflected off of the show, and the boy beside her stopped to witness. She refused to look at him and instead stopped as well, closing her eyes from her own embarrassment. The boy, however, did not close his eyes. He took her in.
Her arms were holding her together, crossed in front of her torso. The red beaded bodice faded into fewer and fewer beads until it reached the pure white skirts, now a dull gray on the edge. Her hair had captured some of the snow flakes and they added a striking contrast to her black hair, twisted every which way. It had started falling out some point during the night, but the pearl pins and snow made it seem as though it had been planned to cascade over her shoulder instead. He watched as she held each note. She finished the song and shivered, either from standing still in the winter air too long or from feeling his gaze. Either way, he slid out of his coat and draped it around her shoulders.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, watching the love of his life clutch the lapels around herself. “Alya wasn’t kidding; you really do have the voice of a saint. Thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“It seems right to say thanks, you know?” His eyes were popping out of his skull, “Someone so wonderful sings for you on the streets of the most romantic cities in the world in the most beautiful voice and it just seems impolite not to thank them.” He felt desperate for her to sing more, but also wanted to get this stunning creature inside before the clock struck midnight and he was forced to avoid her once more. The thought of the following day dropped in his stomach like a rock.
“I don’t want you to ever stop singing. For me, at least.” Her eyebrows stitched together at his musing. “I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and feel like I dreamt that because it was so great. I want to be able to call you up and ask you to sing again and you’d sing because you’d want to sing for me. I’m tired of looking outside and knowing that you’re out there but finding you means talking about where we go from here and you don’t want that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s awkward! You know I have a crush on Ladybug and obviously you don’t feel the same way or else-“
“Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Is that… is that why we stopped patrolling together? Because you thought I was trying edge you out? I’ve had a crush on you since we were fourteen, Adrien Agreste.”
“What?”
“I thought you needed space when you found out your partner, the graceful and strong Ladybug, was nothing more than a clumsy, weak fool who had puppy-dog eyes for you for ages. I assumed you were immediately put off by the girl behind the mask once you knew who it was. Of course, you have a crush on Ladybug but I’m not Ladybug; at least not all the time.”
“And I’m not Chat all the time.” They both looked at each other. “I don’t love Ladybug because she can catch butterflies. That’s a ridiculous reason to love anyone. I love her because she was given superpower gifts and, maybe not immediately, but pretty soon after, stepped up to the plate and declared herself a protector of her country,” Adrien started stepping towards her, “She saved her friends and showed compassion towards those who had previously caused harm. Sure, I was initially attracted to Ladybug, but Marinette has the same qualities as her. She ran for class president, she baked cookies the first day, she stands up for those who can’t seem to stand up for themselves. Finding out the girl behind the mask was Marinette didn’t lessen my feelings, my lady; it grew them ten-fold.” They were face to face now.
“Oh.”
“Can we stop this? Can we please… please…” his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, “can we please go back to patrolling and hanging out together? You’re my friend; I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. I… I didn’t realize we both made the same assumptions. I had started thinking of Chat Noir last year as someone who I loved. Maybe not in a crush kind of way, but finding out who you were…are? I’m glad it’s you. I couldn’t image anyone else. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.” Adrien grinned and leaned in closer. “If you… if you want, I’ll sing for you again.”
“Maybe later,” he responded with a sweet smile. He closed the distance between them and kissed her, a gentle first kiss that ended too soon. “We… we need to go find our friends.”
Marinette mutely nodded her head, staring at his chest. “They’ll be waiting on us.”
“Yeah, they will. Two inebriated teens can’t be too far from trouble.” Adrien reached down and intertwined his fingers with hers beneath the coat. As they strolled away, they heard the clock chime twelve. He pulled her a little closer and they walked the rest of the way, grinning like idiots but not once letting go of the other.
Ahh! Thank you so much for this, @arubymeadow! I love it! <3
Marichat May Day 8: Fashion
Here comes dat Marichat cliche that I don’t regret writing, whadupp
Chat swore he didn’t intend to see it. He was a perfect gentleman, thank you very much. Honestly, it started like any other night. Transform, fast patrol and then go to Marinette for sweets and video games or movie night.
“Oh, Princess! Given it is the Disney movie night can we watch Arist… WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!”
Chat Noir never heard Marinette giving such a blood-curdling scream in his whole life. Chat’s brain was something between short-circuited and trying to come with a plan. So he did the first thing that came to his mind. He grabbed her blanket and jumped off the loft with the bed. What he didn’t expect was for Marinette to start throwing whatever object was in hand reach at him. He managed to dodge most of them, but damn if Marinette didn’t have a good aim. He was pretty sure he will end up with some bruises in the morning. But he didn’t stop until he reached Marinette and wrapped her in the blanket burrito style.
They stood a couple of minutes in silence and blushing until Chat decided to speak.
“So… uh… me themed… underwear.”
He never saw Marinette blush this much around his superhero self. “I had to try to make underwear at some point. I just used a theme I was familiar wth. And it is your fault for peeping, tomcat!”
“I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to.” he apologized and Marinette crossed her arms under the blanket.
“Fine, I forgive you.” she narrowed her eyes. “This time.”
“Why, thank you, thank you very much. Oh, and by the way, Princess?”
“What is it, Chat?”
“Your abs are to die for!”
oh my gosh i am in tears
This is everything I am… everything I need… everything I love… in one vine
two of my favorite vines have been combined. this is beautiful
*Slams fist on table*
NETFLIX YOU COWARDS
WHERE ARE ALL THE RIDICULOUS WLW CHRISTMAS ROM COMS?
I know that it hasn’t been released yet but did you hear about Kristen Stewart being in talks for a ridiculous WLW Christmas romcom?
(witch)
“There you are.”
Link finds Rhett out back, away from the lights and noise of the party.
“I wondered where you went.”
Rhett’s leaning against a tree, hands in his pockets, looking up at the night sky. He doesn’t turn as Link approaches. Standing beside him, Link looks up too — a rare clear night, dark beyond the orange city glow, starless black framing a round, hazy-gold autumn moon.
“It’s midnight,” Link says.
Rhett doesn’t answer.
“You know when I was a kid, my Nanny used to say midnight was the witch’s hour. She said if you make a wish at midnight, it’s bound to come true.”
“Sounds like a spell.”
Link turns his face up to the sky and closes his eyes. A shadow blocks the moonlight, and he opens his eyes to find Rhett looming over him.
“Why’d you come out here?”
“Why did you?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Me neither.”
Rhett frowns. Link starts to reply, but when his mouth opens Rhett grabs him by the shoulders and bends him back into an abrupt, awkward kiss.
Their bodies barely touch before Rhett pulls away. “Jesus. I don’t know why I did that. Shit, Link—”
But Link is smiling. Rhett’s eyes go wide.
Link’s hands are shaking and his heart’s beating so hard he feels dizzy, and before he can stop himself he rises on tiptoe to whisper into Rhett’s ear.
“My wish came true.”
Rhett exhales. He leans back against the tree and puts a hand to his mouth; when it drops away, he’s smiling too.
“Happy Halloween, Rhett,” Link says.
Rhett pulls him close in the moonlight, and their bodies fit together like the words of a magic spell.
Across the yard, framed in the kitchen window, Stevie blows out her candle and smiles.