#like i will tidy my desk and it’ll be so perfect and sweet and then i will go do my makeup and get ready at it the next day

[abigail]

will my desk ever be tidy for more than a day ? no <3

[sugarsnappeases]

kara how am i supposed to choose just ONE fic to ask about???? need more of bartylily library and sybilily lighthouse fic please any crumbs you wanna give me.

hello my beautiful langel (bringing this into common parlance i'm sorry) i would be delighted to offer you an entire feast but i haven't been writing much of anything recently so i fear crumbs might be an entirely accurate term...

firstly bartylily library!! my special darlings!! i have a little snippet for you that i've just cooked up, fresh out of the oven of my brain:

Lily follows Madam Pince out of the back room, forcefully resisting the urge to turn and look at Barty again, she’s sure he’s just grinning his maddening grin, with all his horribly perfect teeth, at her back anyway. When they get to the front desk, Madam Pince gives her a serious look, which isn’t all that different from her usual look but still can’t mean anything good.  “Now Lily, I wanted to talk to you about Barty.”  Spectacular. “I know he might be a little… difficult, but he’s had a bit of a rough go of things and could really use a good influence like you.” she continues, before lowering her voice as if she’s about to impart some sensitive information. Lily leans forward a little, intrigued despite herself.   “He’s been placed here for his community service,” she pronounces the words ‘community service’ carefully, like they might bite her if she isn’t careful, giving Lily a meaningful look, “and he’s a bit… troubled, but really he’s very charming, so sweet. He could just do with a bit of a guiding hand and I think you could really help him, Lily.” Right. She should probably have seen this coming - she's been a ‘wonderful role model’ to every teacher at every parents’ evening since primary school. She should’ve known that this would extend to the library too - it isn't exactly far removed from her school career or the wish to please her parents. She’s been hoping for simplicity and stability, something easy in the way the library has always been for her, and Barty is throwing a spanner in the works with all his… complication. But Lily knows how to be a role model, a ‘guiding hand’ as Madam Pince had put it, she knows the behaviour she should be emulating and encouraging, this isn’t the first time she’s been asked to do something like this.  Maybe it’ll be straightforward with Barty, maybe she can gently guide him into being less of a bothersome twat and neatly smooth out the wrinkles that she had been worrying he might produce in her vision of this holiday. Maybe she can still have her sanctuary, she’ll just have to tidy it up a bit first, she’ll just have to fix this aberration. She can still be hopeful. Ish. Lily smiles down at Madam Pince, trying to make it reassuring, sincere, “Oh, I had no idea! Of course, I’d be happy to help. I’ll keep an eye on him, Madam Pince, don’t worry.” “Wonderful, I knew I could count on you, Lily sweetheart,” Madam Pince replies, her frown easing a little, as close as Lily ever sees her to a smile (and yet she’d been giggling with Barty earlier - giggling).

as you can see, we're still on literally the first day. but i think about all the time and miss them constantly and think maybe i should drop out of uni and spend all my time writing them <3

and then sybillily lighthouse!!! this fic has been driving me insaaaaaane for the last like two months and i still haven't written a word of it asdjkfhj but i can offer you. an image. a joyous and fun image:

it's like. an extension of how kinda cyclical the narrative is in the fic w the two of them both ending the fic in similar positions to the start (well. worse positions but like. particularly for sybill. she's basically just reverted to and further intensified the way she was living at the start, being so entirely wrapped up in the lighthouse etc etc) so i decided that i want the fic to start with lily knocking on the door of the lighthouse… she's been wandering around the island, exploring and curious and she wants to know more about the lighthouse so she's knocking on the door and sybill is opening it and this is where we begin <3 and then. similarly. or conversely. i want the fic to end w lily literally pounding on the door, shouting at sybill to open it, to come out and speak to her or at least let her in, hitting at the door till her hands are bleeding and her voice is hoarse but sybill doesn't open the door <3

anyway hope this is satisfactory <3 love you thank you for asking me!!!!!

[melancholymetropolis]

Cloud Nine

Pairings: Roommate! Hitoshi Shinso x Reader

Summary: The reader gets stood up and Shinso decides to make it up to her.

Warnings: Explicit Content. Porn with Plot. Slightly edited. Based off of this cover. All characters are aged up.

Author's Note: Hello to all! I have missed you guys. It's been a while. Finals have been kicking my ass but, I am back! This fic is a good blend of fluff and smut. Maybe a little bit of angst. If you would like to commission me, click here! I set a new goal, so please check it! Thanks for your support, it means a lot to me.

Word Count: 4500

The sound of the front door slamming shut resonated through the apartment, quickly followed by the echo of heavy footsteps trailing down the hall. They came to an abrupt pause; interrupted by the splashing of water in the sink and the ripping of a paper towel. He must’ve found the freshly baked cookies I left on the counter. The footsteps sound again but they stop short of my room. A firm knock rattled from my door; I looked up from my laptop and shouted “come in!” My roommate opened the door, appearing in front of me, dressed in his usual attire. Workout jacket and running shorts with a gym bag tossed over his shoulder. Shinso had already taken a bite out of the freshly baked cookie nestled in the paper, and tiny crumbs had been sprinkled around his mouth.

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” he said as he dropped his gym bag by my door and took a seat in my desk chair. “I thought you had a date with that producer guy.”

“Yeah, I did,” I closed my laptop and pushed it to the side. “But, he never showed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Shinso said before taking another bite of his cookie. He chewed it slowly before adding, “I had a feeling something was wrong since you baked.”

“I don’t only bake when I’m sad, So-so,” I replied as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“You’re right,” he took another bite of the cookie and swallowed. “You only make your comfort cookies when you’re sad.”

I gave him a quizzical look and he took it as an initiative to continue.

“When you’re sad or have a bad day, you always make double chocolate cookies with walnuts. And if you’re peeved, you add Nutella in the middle. Like today. So, if you don’t mind telling me what’s wrong, I’d be happy to listen.” Shinso finished off his cookie and brushed his mouth with the paper towel. His purple eyes gleaming up at me with concern.

“It’s just. . .” I crossed my legs underneath me and sighed. All the built-up frustration exploded out of me in three words, “Men are trash.”

Shinso’s face remained completely neutral; he didn’t even flinch at the statement. “How so?”

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “Okay, so last week, remember when I was wearing that super-cute outfit?”

“You gotta be more specific, you always wear cute outfits,” he said with a confused look in his eye.

“It was a Tuesday. I was wearing some bell-bottom jeans and a pink halter top that said ‘cherry bomb’. Do you remember that?”

“You had two buns on your head that day,” he added in recollection.

“I did! Well, I bumped into Justin on my way to the studio and we talked for a few minutes. Towards the end of the conversation, he gave me his number and asked me to dinner. I was ecstatic and practically skipped down the fucking street!”

“Sounds like something you’d do.”

“So, we’ve been texting all of last week and this week. I am under the illusion that we’re on for dinner. All of a sudden, he doesn’t reply to my texts this morning. I brushed it off and continued about my day. I went to the agreed restaurant and waited an hour in my car for him. Texting him the entire time, just for him to give me a reply on my ride home.”

“What did it say?”

“‘Sorry, something came up.’”

“Wow. . . what an asshole.”

“I know! Such a fucking jerk.”

We stayed silent for a minute or two before Shinso rose from my desk chair and walked to my door. He grabbed his gym bag from the floor and turned back to me. “I ordered from that restaurant you like, down the street, once I saw the cookies on the counter. I figured you could use some comfort food. It’ll be here in a little while, so I’m going to take a quick shower, then we could eat together. If you’re cool with that?”

“Sure, that’s fine. I’ll see you when you get out,” I replied with a look of astonishment on my face.

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

The pro-hero exited the room and gently closed the door behind him. My eyes remained in that general area, seconds after he left. Processing all the information that he gave to me. Wakatoshi Shinso. . . a man that I cannot describe in words. But, if I had to condense it, to say what he was, all I could say is that he cares. So much about me. Before moving in together, he was simply a friend-of-a-friend. We were cordial, always said “hi” in passing, and never left a bad impression. So, when I found an apartment, and he needed a room, it was a no-brainer. Shinso was the ideal roommate. Quiet, calm, and collected. He always made me breakfast, even though he was always up significantly earlier than I was. If I was too tired, he’d tidy up my leftover dishes and straighten up my things. When I had my period and ran out of pads, he went to the drug store and bought me some. Including chocolate ice cream and painkillers. He doesn’t mind doing the grocery shopping alone and doesn’t complain when I leave my bra on the bathroom door. He wiped my tears when my boyfriend left me and brought me flowers the next day.

Shinso was perfect in every way.

I was lucky to have him in my life.

The doorbell rang and I rose from my bed and raced to the door. Just as he said, Shinso had ordered from my favorite restaurant, as seen by the menu poking out of the biggest bag. I gave the delivery boy a small smile and thanked him, before shutting the door and walking into the kitchen. I placed the takeout bag on the counter and began to take out all the items from the bag. He brought chicken parmesan, mushroom ravioli, fettuccine alfredo, vodka alla penne, and two garden salads. In the second, smaller bag, were two pints of ice cream and complimentary miniature cannolis.

“I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I got a little bit of everything,” his voice echoed throughout the room, causing me to jump.

“Jesus—” I looked up from the array of food to my roommate. Who was dripping wet and practically steaming from his shower. Grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, extenuating his sharp v-line. He was shirtless, which wasn’t something new, he often walked around the apartment that way; however, the droplets sprinkled about his bare chest were doing things to me. His damp hair was slicked back, combed out of his face. Shinso walked around the kitchen’s island and popped open the lid off one of the containers. The display of his bruised knuckles resting on the counter caused my insides to churn.

Maybe it was the way Justin ghosted me earlier, or maybe it was the way Shinso cared for me— the longer I looked at him, the more I wanted him to bend me over the sink and make me scream.

An intense blush flushed over my face and I instinctively bit my bottom lip.

Without missing a beat, my roommate placed his hand on mine and locked eyes with me. “Is there something wrong?”

“I. . . ugh. . .” I looked away from him and down at the ground. “I’m fine.”

I could feel his violet-purple eyes squint with uncertainty. Shinso gently squeezed my hand and released a sigh. “I was thinking about what you said about ‘men being trash’ and how Justin was an asshole to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you're looking in the wrong place."

I looked up at his face, taking in his flushed-out expression. Although his wet hair gave him a more refined aura. His cheeks highlighted his boyish charm. Shinso's hand lifted from mine and found itself underneath my chin. My eyes automatically snapped toward his and my breath got caught in my throat. He had an unwavering stare upon his face that made me weak in the knees. Shinso’s eyes slowly closed and brought his face closer to mine. I gripped his shirt and pressed a kiss firmly against his lips. Every muscle in my body relaxed and I felt his arm securely wrapped around me. I moaned against his lips and loosened my grip on his shirt. I dug my fingers in his hair and pressed my body against his.

“I want you,” he groaned against my lips.

“Then, take me,” I replied as I untied his sweatpants. And kissed him again.

Shinso tore away and guided me to the couch. He gazed down at me, a questionable look in his eye. “Are you sure?”

I lifted the oversized tee-shirt over my head and tossed it to the side, My chest was completely bare, my ample breasts in the view of the towering athlete. “I’m all yours.”

Shinso’s eyes darkened. His demeanor was intense and serious. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted my legs to his waist. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he grunted before capturing my lips in a kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. My bare chest against his; my heartbeat in my ears and his body heat warming my soul. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could. I needed to be closer to him than I ever was before. “Take me to your room.”

Without hesitation, the pro-hero took long paces to his vacant space. He gently sat me on the edge of the bed and look down at me. “Open your legs.”

I scooted my by rear further on the bed and placed both feet on the neatly tucked duvet. My knees were facing the ceiling and my clothed womanhood was facing him.

Shinso swiftly dropped to his knees and brought his face to my inner thigh. Featherlike kisses sprinkled along the soft tissue and goosebumps ran up my back. When he got to my core, after taking his sweet time, he pushed the soft short and panties to the side before lapping the dripping center. My legs gently twitched and my eyes rolled back. His soft muscle continued to lap its sweet nectar and I swore I could see God Himself. After a short while, he had gotten bored of pushing my garments to the side, so Shinso tenderly removed them from my legs. I halfway expected him to rip them to shreds but I guess he was too gentlemanly for such savage behavior.

The athlete looked up at me with a wistful expression and asked a simple question. “Do you mind if I use my fingers?”

I paused for a minute and smiled. “Come here.”

Temporarily rising from his position on the floor, the massive man laid his body between my legs and hovered his face above mine. “Yes?”

“You use whatever you see fit,” I replied while looking into his eyes. “I trust you.”

Without so much as a second glance, Shinso walks to his nightstand and unlocks the bottom drawer. He pulls out a Hitachi wand, an eye mask, and bondage cuffs. “Are you comfortable with these?”

A blush dusted my cheeks as I looked at the items. “Oh my, I never knew this side of you existed.” I reached for the eye mask and placed it on my head. Then, I lifted my arms over my head and gripped the bedpost. I winked and finally said, “I’m ready when you are.”

Shinso turned to the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom. “I should’ve confessed sooner.”

I nodded with appropriate enthusiasm and widened my legs. “Please continue what you had been doing earlier. I want you.”

The athlete reached down to my face and pulled the eye mask over my eyes. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

His feather-like touches littered against the right side of my body and I swore I could feel my senses come alive. I felt the bed sink in between my legs and his warm hands reposition my hips on the bed. “Hold your legs up for me, baby.”

I did as instructed and took a deep breath.

I could feel his hot breath fan my naked cunt and all I could do was drip in anticipation. His coarse thumbs spread the thick lips apart; cool air fanned my bud. After a few seconds of no movement, his hot mouth pressed against the dripping mess. A long, deep moan arose from me, as my legs jolted again. He blew against my womanhood, creating a slurry of my nectar and his saliva. I could feel it drip down my cunt and to my rear slowly. Seductively almost. His soft tongue pushed its way into my smooth center and I felt my walls clench. He bobbed his head forward and back; probing me with his tongue as he went. I furrowed my brows and arched my back. Gripping the back of my knees, I bucked my hips against his mouth as slutty moans left my lips.

“Mmm. . . you feel so good, So-so,” I chanted as I whipped my head to the side.

He groaned against my womanhood, before pulling away briefly. He reached up the bed and gripped his desired item. Once I heard a distinctive buzzing, I knew it was the wand. He pressed the toy against my bud, possibly wanting to see my reaction to it. I moaned at the light vibrations and squirmed underneath it. A hum passed his lips as I felt his fingers gently toy with my entrance. One finger slowly went in, curling upward to the desired pleasure button. Shinso used that finger for about a minute before adding a second one. He presses his fingertips against the roof of my cunny and started to jab them upward. I bit my lip and dug my nails into my thighs at the added friction. I could feel a soft pool gather in my stomach and I knew my climax was near.

“Oh fuck! Oh, fuck!” I practically yelled as I gripped the sheets.

Shinso kept his same pace. I could imagine observing the incoming orgasm rise from my toes down my calves and thighs and to my abdomen.

I furrowed my eyes again and brought my legs closer to my chest. “Oh fuck. Oh, fuck! Oh shit!” My legs shoot violently as my toes clenched tightly. My breathing increased and tingles encased my whole body. Then, all of a sudden, all the feelings in my body stopped. And all I could hear was the buzzing of the vibrator in my room. For those two seconds, every fiber of my being clenched, including my walls around Shinso’s fingers. I could feel tears form in my eyes as a throaty moan fell from my lips and my back arched against the bed. I released the grip on my legs and allowed them to shake chaotically against the mattress. I reached under my head for the pillow and squeezed it around my head as I rode out the pleasable wave.

When my legs stopped shaking and my breathing calmed down, I released the pillow and lifted my head. “So-so?”

“I’m here,” he swiftly replied before removing the eye mask from my face. Shinso looked at me with a loving expression and placed a hand on my cheek. “Are you okay? That seemed pretty intense.”

“It was,” I replied looking at him with doe eyes. “Can you just. . . hold me for a while? I don’t think I’m ready to continue.”

“Of course.” He climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around me. His violet eyes gazed down at me with such repertoire that it was almost impossible to keep contact.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked feeling so insecure.

“No, I just. . .” Shinso cut himself off. Somehow trying to find the right thing to say at that moment. He pulled my body closer to his before pressing his lips to my forehead and saying “ I love you.”

I froze. My breath caught in my throat. My heartbeat pausing its usual rhythm. My mind was completely cleared of any passing thought. “How. . . long have you known?”

“Not too long. About a few minutes.”

“Wait,” I pulled away from him and sat up in the bed. “What do you mean ‘a few minutes’?”

Shinso took a deep breath and followed my motions. “I realized I loved you when you told me you trusted me and proceeded to relinquish control. I had never seen you so vulnerable with anyone and we have known each other for five years. It meant a lot to me and everything else just. . . clicked in my brain.”

“So, all the ordering food and tampons. . . you didn’t do that to get me to put my guard down? You did it just because?”

“Well, yeah. I thought that’s what good roommates do. At least, that’s what Tendou says they do.”

“Wow. . . I. . . need a minute to digest. . . all of this.”

“Take your time.”

I spent the next few days hovering about our shared apartment. Replaying those three tiny, tiny words in my mind. I love you. He loved me. Shinso loved me. He didn’t do all those nice things because he wanted to use me or my body for his pleasure. He did it because he wanted to be a good roommate. Shinso wasn’t the type of man to say things he didn’t mean— hell, he doesn’t even speak the majority of the time. He meant what he said. And I couldn’t gather my thoughts to see how I felt about him. I knew what he meant to me. I knew I didn’t see myself living with anyone else and the thought of him being with another woman infuriated me. After a short while, I picked up a pen and grabbed my keyboard to write a song.

Justin found time to text me again; notifying me that he wanted to make up for our failed date by giving a free studio session. Being the starving artist that I was, I took up the offer. On a whim, I texted Shinso to meet at the studio, half expecting him to decline my answer. He didn’t. Shinso walked into the small room, still in his volleyball uniform. His violet eyes brightened when I smiled at him. He gave me a small smirk and a short wave.

Justin, completely taken back by the massive player, gawked at Shinso’s sheer size. “Damn, how tall are you?”

“Six foot four inches,” Shinso stated in a bland expression.

“Wow,” Justin turned away from the athlete and back to me. “I’m ready when you are.”

I took a deep breath, readjusted my keyboard, and looked ahead. “I’m ready.”

I started playing the keys and looking down at the lyrics on my notebook page.

I don’t want to seem the way I do

But I’m confident when I’m with you

I looked up at Shinso with a weak smile.

Lately, all I feel is bad and bruised

Tired of tripping on my shoes

I squeezed my eyes shut and finished the rest of the course.

But when he loves me I

Feel like I’m floating, when

He calls me pretty, I

Feel like somebody.

Even when we fade,

Eventually to nothing,

You will always be my favorite form of loving.

I opened my eyes and looked up at Shinso. His cheeks were a slight pink and his eyes were slightly closed. He seemed somewhat embarrassed by the lyrics, yet really into them.

I finished the lyrics, making sure I kept eye contact with him for the entirety of the song. I watched his shoulders relax, and jaw clench at the sound of the lyrics. He leaned forward as if to hear me better. Shinso’s boyish charm was completely exposed and I was loving every second of it.

When the song ended, Justin stood up and clapped from the other end of the glass. He clicked a button and shouted for me to come out.

“You were so good!” He practically shouted to the top of his lungs. “I should’ve gotten you here sooner.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” I said with a chuckle.

“Please tell me you’re free this Friday, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Justin gave me a hopeful look.

“Actually— “

“She has plans with me this Friday,” Shinso chimed harshly.

Justin looked between the two of us and simply nodded. “I totally get it. Shoot me a text when you are free though. We should talk business.”

“Of course!” I replied with a smile.

Shinso and I trotted out of the studio shortly after the exchange. He remained silent within the elevator of the building. Inside the cab home. And, as we walked through the front door. It was after he retreated into his room and took a shower when he finally spoke to me.

“Did you write that song for me?” Shinso asked after taking a seat in my desk chair.

“I did,” I answered simply.

“Does that mean you. . . share my feelings?” He proceeded to question me.

“Yes, I love you, Shinso,” I offered the response slowly.

He rose from my chair and sat across from me on my bed. “Tell me again.”

“I love you, Shinso.”

His lips captured mine in a heated kiss. His calloused hands pulled me closer to him as mine latched in his hair. I leaned back against the bed and spread my legs to give him more access. I moaned against his lips and moved my hips against his groin.

“Do you want to continue?” Shinso asked as pulled away. “We can always—”

“Hurry up and grab the condoms from the top drawer,” I interjected as I unhooked my arms to peel my shirt off.

Without a word, the athlete scooted from the bed and did as he was told. Shinso swiftly removed his sweats and tossed them to the side. He ripped the plastic packet open with his teeth and rolled the rubber on his member. He climbed back onto the bed proceeded to yank my bottoms off my body and spread my legs. Shinso positioned his member against my center and looked up at me. Once I gave him an eager nod, he sunk himself into me. A soul-shaking moan erupted from the two of us, followed by a curse underneath our breaths. He leaned down to give me a soft kiss before slowly rocking his hips against mine.

Gentle moans fell from my lips as I arched my back against his thrusts. “You feel so good, baby.” I brought my hands up my legs and navel; I latched my digits onto my ample breasts and gave them a slight squeeze.

Shinso readjusted my hips and lifted my legs in the air. His fingertips pressed firmly in the soft flesh of my thigh as he had begun to drop his hips down onto mine in such a harsh manner. My walls clenched around him, as I felt myself begin to ooze even more onto him. The new stimulation was making my whole body heat up and I desperately wanted more of it. I gripped the sheets tightly and gazed at his flushed-out face.

God, he looked so powerful fucking me like that. His muscles flexed with each thrust and sweat began dotting his abdomen. The pink hue on his cheeks and the clenching of his jaw made my insides tingle.

I was more attracted to this man than I could ever possibly know.

Suddenly, his pace started to slow down and his hips started to spasm. Just a tad. He was so close to his peak.

“You take me so well, sweetheart,” Shinso grunted lowly. “You’re tight cunt is milking me dry.”

I smirked. “Are you about to cum?”

His violet eyes narrowed and he paused his thrusts. “On your belly, now.”

“Yes, sir,” I teased as I rolled onto my stomach. Chest pressed against the bed and hips in the air.

The athlete gripped my hips as he eased his member back into me. “Rub that needy clit of yours, nice and slow.”

I tucked a hand between my legs and flicked my fingers softly. A small moan fell from my lips as my hips began to twitch slightly.

“Looks like you’re not gonna last too long, baby,” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Of course not, you know how to make me cum,” I said with a giggle.

“I am the only one that will be doing that from this point on, understood?” His gripped tightened around my waist and I could feel his hips begin to twitch slightly.

“Understood,” I grunted as I felt the warm pool fill in my stomach. “I’m getting close, baby.”

“Move your hand faster,” Shinso instructed while keeping his pace.

I flicked my wrist faster and immediately felt the climax rising my legs and thighs and gathering at my stomach. I clenched and released my walls several times before releasing a gurgle-like moan. “Ahh fuck. Ahh, fuck!”

“You better not stop moving your hand, princess,” he warned in a low tone.

“I’m not! I promise!” I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip. “Please let me cum! I wanna cum so bad! Oh, God!”

“Go ahead, you deserve it,” he grunted as he began to move his hips faster.

“Oh fuck!” I gripped the sheets tightly and moved my hand even faster. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

I clenched my walls ever so tightly and squeezed my eyes shut. In the pit of my stomach, I felt a soft soap bubble pop and ooze out to the rest of my body. My entire body clenched, and my hand pressed hard against my clit as I rode out the orgasm. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my tongue fell out of my mouth. Drool dripped down my chin as the stars behind my eyelids faded. After a few seconds, I slumped forward onto the bed and opened my eyes.

“Oh fuck. . .” I gurgled as my body finished twitching.

Shinso slid out of my smooth canal and kissed down my sweaty back before laying next to me. He gathered me into his arms and looked down at my overly stimulated body. “Promise me you’ll be mine and only mine.”

With half-closed lids, I looked up at him and said, “You buy me food when I’m sad, you get me tampons when I’m bleeding, AND you made me cum so hard I almost blacked out. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you be with someone else.”

He chuckled. “I love you.”

“You better, because you can’t get rid of me. I’m in too deep,” I replied as I snuggled closer to him. After a short moment of silence, I said “I love you, too.”

[mahalsuya]

easy: a semi eita songfic/ficlet

» hey!! it's been a while, sorry bout that. my mental health had been very poor and i hit a huge creativity block. BUT i'm good now! also @nanaomiomi ENJOY THE MEAL.

» i'm going to try to break my block with this songfic so enjoy! it may be bad so don't judge too hard :,) gn! reader

4:02 pm

it’s a saturday afternoon, and you’re sitting on semi’s bed, while he’s at his desk trying to create a new song. in the dim, tidy, room, the light of his desk lamp beamed below him. you were both in comfortable silence excluding the video audios that’ll occasionally play from your phone.

he rests his guitar on his lap and rubs his eyes.

“babe you should take a break you’ve been at it for a while,” you tell him a little concerned.

“you think so? i guess i could stop for a bit.” he sits up from his chair, puts his light wooded guitar on its stand, and walks over to you on the bed. he sits down, and pulls you on his lap to cuddle you.

“you overwork yourself sometimes love,” you tell him setting down your phone and snuggling into his neck.

he looks down at you, “i’m working on it i promise,” he kisses your temple while playing with your hair, “i’m taking a break by cuddling my amazing s/o now. that’s way better than working.”

you agreed while wrapping your arms around his waist, holding onto him like there’s no tomorrow.

“can you sing me a song?” you ask softly, “maybe it’ll spark some inspiration.” he nods accepting your request, and starts to think of a song to sing for you. he starts to hum the song “easy” by mac ayers, but you suddenly shot your head up to look at him.

he looks at you worriedly, “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

“use your words!!! your humming is very pretty, but i think your voice is even prettier,” you replied pouting and in a jokingly offended tone.

he chuckles at your reaction, “i was only joking buttercup,” he pats your head back to the crook of his neck, “relax now i’ll ‘use my words’ this time.”

“oh you heard what they say, oh the more things change, the more they stay the same, ain’t that a shame.”

he starts to softly tap a beat on your arm as he feels your warm smile on his neck. as he continues to sing the song, you softly hum along to the song that was familiar to both of you. you decide to join him for the chorus.

“i can say that loving you is easy. i don’t need to prove a single thing. somewhere along the way, i guess you got under my skin”

“there’s my angel’s voice,” he says smiling, lightly teasing you.

“shut uppppppp,” you say hiding your pink face in his shirt.

“don't worry you know i love it when you sing.” he smiles and closes his eyes as he starts to ease into the music. you, on the other hand, close your eyes from the wave of relaxation you get as he sings.

“whatcha’ say, starry eyed? how you love to smile and watch the clouds reside.”

semi is probably the best boyfriend you’ll ever have. he’s everything you’d want in a boyfriend. sweet, kind, romantic, handsome, charming, caring, everything. there’s nowhere you’d rather be, than in your boyfriends arms. it reminds you how lucky you really are to have him.

semi, on the other hand, thinks back to the earlier stages of your relationship. at the beginning, he was a bit of a tsundere. despite his early antics, he still managed to get you to fall for him. he’d often wonder how he could get a person as wonderful as you. to him you’re perfect, his angel, his. that alone is crazy to him.

as he starts to sing the repeated chorus, he feels your breathing become steady and realizes you fell asleep. he predicted this would happen, it always does, but why would he turn down the opportunity to have you cuddled against him? he sings the last lines of the song in a hushed tone.

“i put all my cards out on the table. you ain’t ever gonna show your hand. i would rather hold you close than try to understand.”

with one final glance and kiss on your head, he pushes the hair that fell to the front of your face aside.

“i love you, y/n. i’m really lucky i get to call you mine,” he whispers to you as he falls asleep, resting his cheek on your head.

that’s the end! this was probably pretty rough since it’s been a while since i’ve written. hope you enjoyed nonetheless :,)

shiratorizawa masterlist

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Chapter Summary: A month after Chat Noir learns Marinette's identity, they're just vibin'

Word Count: 4388 | Chapter 2/2

Notes: Written for @chatnoirinette​ through the @mlbforblm​ charity drive!  The donations go directly to Color of Change, an organization for racial justice.  I highly recommend checking them out and reblogging/donating the mlbforblm posts if you’re able!  I have two fic request slots left as of 7/17/2020, and many other talented writers and artists are offering incentives as well

XXX

Marinette glanced over her shoulder for what had to have been the thirtieth time.  Outside her bedroom window, stormclouds were gathering over the glittering skyline. What if the weather was too dangerous for Chat to come visit tonight?  Or what if he’d gotten held up with something in his civilian life?  That happened too often, though he probably spent every moment he could with her now.  It was oddly comforting that he wanted to be around her so much, even if it was just keeping her company while she worked on homework, or deciphered the grimoire, or let the kwamis out for some fresh air.

Despite seeing him practically every day, she still managed to miss him.

“He’ll be here,” Tikki said from her perch on top of Marinette’s mannequin.  

She sighed.  “That obvious, huh?”

“You almost pinned the collar to my leg.”

Oops.  As it was, the she’d bunched up the collar of Juleka’s dress all wrong.  She’d have to remove the pins and smooth it out again unless she wanted the fabric to pucker in her sewing machine.

“Sorry Tikki.  I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

She’d survived with only seeing her partner during akuma attacks and patrols for two years now.  But in these few weeks since she’d accidentally revealed her identity, she’d come to rely on him more than ever.  Maybe too much, honestly.  She had no idea what civilian responsibilities he was carrying on his own.

Well, she had a guess, but that was better left unsaid until she knew for sure.

You could always ask him, she thought for the thousandth time, but banished it just as quickly.  

A tap at her window made her jump and prick her finger.  Even startled as she was, guilty relief flooded her.  Tikki was right; he’d shown up anyway.

She sucked on the sore spot as she ran to open the window.  “You know Papa would let you in the front door.”

“But then I’d miss getting to see you in your natural habitat, Bugaboo.”  Chat Noir grinned as he swung himself in.  Luckily it hadn’t started raining yet.  She didn’t want her room smelling like wet cat.

“My ‘natural habitat’ has too many pins on the floor.”  She scrambled to pick them up before he ended up stepping on one.  His boots would have protected his feet, but he was polite enough to remove them every time he entered, even though she’d never asked him to.

At least, she’d never asked Chat.  That was one of her flimsier evidences for his identity, though.

“I like it.  It’s cozy.”  He plopped down on her chaise, which he’d claimed for himself weeks ago.  Not that she minded.  She kept that space clear for him, even when fabric and thread was piled on every other surface.

“What about your room?  Is it this ‘cozy’?”  She asked.  It was an innocent question, not overtly fishing for information on his identity.  

“Nah.  I’m not allowed to… I have to keep things tidy.”  He frowned.

Another piece towards her theory.  She’d add that note in the conspiracy page she’d webbed out in her diary.

“Oh!  I’ve got something for you!”  He untied a plastic bag that he’d hung from his belt.  “It, um, might be a little bit squished, but hopefully it’ll still taste good.”

Her eyes widened at the small box of cupcakes he presented to her.  The frosting was pale pink, with wobbly dots of chocolate arranged to look like the spots on her yo-yo.  They were a little smushed, but still in remarkably good shape for having traveled with Chat across Paris.  She popped off the box’s translucent lid, giggling at the tiny pigeon stickers at each corner of it.

He winced.  “They look terrible, don’t they?  I know I’m not as good at baking as you, but Mr. Ramier helped so I thought they might be kind of okay—”

“They’re perfect.”  She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.  “You didn’t have to make me anything, Kitty.”

“I know, but I wanted to.  Since you’re always sharing your delicious pastries with me—”

“Maman and Papa make most of those.”

“—and because you deserve something nice, and you refuse to let me buy you anything.”

Her face warmed.  Before she’d put that rule into place, he’d tried to bring her a present every time he visited.  Considering he visited a lot, that would have taken a toll on his wallet.

Unless money wasn’t an issue for him, of course.

Stop that, she told herself.  She could hardly deny her feelings for Chat anymore, but she couldn’t keep muddling them with feelings for her first crush.  Not until she knew for sure they were one and the same.

Now if only she could stop being a coward and ask him.

“W-well thanks,” she said quickly.  “You better help me eat them.”

He winked.  “Can do, Princess.”

Before they dug in, she bundled her fabric away and pulled out the Miracle Box from its hiding place next to her sewing machine.  It was the perfect spot, now that she’d learned how disguise it as an extra sewing box rather than that Ladybug-themed egg-thing.  She’d never have been able to keep that a secret.

“Who’s coming out today?”  Chat asked.  He’d sprawled on the chaise with his hands propping up his chin.  Tikki had nestled herself in his hair, eating half of a cupcake and scattering crumbs in his golden locks.  

The kwami would probably enjoy Chat Noir’s visits more if Plagg was allowed out for her to play with.  Plagg would devour all of her parents’ cheese-filled pastries, and Marinette… Marinette would have to look into her partner’s unmasked eyes and admit she was still half in love with someone else.

Unless she wasn’t.  But what if she was?  A few hardly-lucid dreams and wishful evidence weren’t proof that Chat Noir was actually Adrien.

She shook her head.  That train of thought could do donuts in her brain if she didn’t pull the brakes.

“I was thinking Kaalki and Pollen.”  She wasn’t up for any of the rowdier kwamis tonight, even with Chat helping her “babysit.”  Plus the two of them liked sweets; they’d appreciate the cupcakes.

She pulled out the hair comb and glasses, and Chat Noir excitedly put them both on.  The miraculouses somehow managed to make him look both dorkier and cuter at the same time.  Maybe that was just because he was at his cutest when he was being a dork.

Tikki smiled wide as Kaalki and Pollen appeared in flashes of light.

“Oooh, someone glorious and famous.” Kaalki flew in circles around Chat Noir’s head, nudging a few of his tufts of hair with her hoof.  “You would make a fine holder.  Plagg wouldn’t be up for a trade, would he?”

Chat blushed beneath his mask, making Marinette giggle.

“Uh, sorry, but I’m going to have to say neigh to that.”

Pollen covered her laugh in her hands. Kaalki just harumphed.

“Fine.  Your sense of humor is far too unpolished anyway.”

Glorious and famous.  Kaalki might have been talking about his status as a hero of Paris, but Marinette still made note.

They fell into their usual routine, Chat Noir entertaining the kwamis by answering their questions about the world while Marinette went back to work.  The steady conversation was a better backdrop than any white noise or instrumental music playlists.  She only wished she had time to join them.  Unfortunately, she’d put off this dress for too long.  She only had a week before Juleka wa supposed to model the floral sundress at the school’s ameteur fashion show, and who knew how many akumas would strike between now and then?

Marinette was just getting ready to transfer the fabric from the mannequin to her sewing desk when she heard Pollen ask Chat, “How are things between you and your Princess?”

The pins slipped from her hand.  She barely noticed a couple pricking into her slipper.

Chat had sat up straight since the last time she’d glanced back, and the nervous yet hopeful smile on his face threatened to melt her.

“Uh—well—how are things between us, Marinette?”

Her mouth briefly forgot how to make words.  She knew what Pollen meant; Tikki and her gossiped about Marinette’s love life all the time. Maybe she shouldn’t have let the bee kwami out tonight.

“Well, um.”  Her fingers twitched nervously against the fabric of her pajama pants.  Say something, Marinette! “We’re—we’re best friends, right?”

She wanted to shove her fist in her mouth.  How many times had she died inside over Adrien calling her just a friend?  And no matter who Chat was beneath the mask, she didn't want to obscure her true feelings for him.

But his face still lit up even brighter.  “I’m your best friend?”

“Of course, Kitty.”  She sat on the chaise, scooting close to him.  Probably closer than even a best friend should, but it wasn’t like Chat was shy about personal space.  “I don’t let just anyone climb in my window, you know.”

“Awwww,” Pollen sighed while crossing her hands over her heart.  Tikki gave Marinette a knowing look, which she pretended to ignore.

Then Marinette shoved a cupcake into her mouth before she could say anything more incriminating.

Chat blinked.  She wondered if he was impressed—that cupcake had been about the size of her fist. Guess she could’ve fit her fist in her mouth after all, but at least the cupcake tasted better.

“Thesh ah really goo’.” 

...Well, she said she wouldn’t say anything incriminating.  She’d never ruled out saying anything stupid.

Chat Noir laughed.  “For a Princess, your table manners could use some work.”

She swallowed about half the cupcake.  It was really good, thick and chocolatey with a hint of strawberry.  It probably would’ve tasted better if she’d taken the time to savor it.  But the loss was worth it for the look on his face.

“No table manners allowed.  Only vibes.”

He blinked before bursting out a real laugh, fuller and brighter than the one before.  One that she was sounded strikingly familiar—especially with the backdrop of rain hitting the window behind them.

That truth cracked like a flash of lightning.

“You’ve been hanging out with Nino too much.”  He wiped a claw under his eye, flicking away a few drops of water.

It was him. It had to be him. She’d recognize that laugh anywhere.

“Princess, what’s a ‘vibe’?”  Pollen asked.

“I believe it’s like a, like a feeling,” Kaalki answered over the sound of Chat’s cackle.  “Perhaps there’s a kwami of vibes?  Or would that fall under Duusu’s domain?”

Marinette was too stunned from the whiplash of Adrien’s laugh and Pollen’s question to actually answer.

“Sort of,” Tikki interjected instead.  “Marinette and her friends sometimes talk about vibes like they’re feelings, but they also use ‘vibing’ as an action.  I’m still not really sure what that means though.  Maybe we should Google it?”

When she sat on Marinette’s computer keyboard, the desktop collage of Adrien’s photos flashed on the screen.  Marinette almost lunged for her kwami in horror, but Chat was still laughing too hard to notice.

“Princess—what’s a—what’s a vibe?”  He got out between tears.

Then he actually doubled over far enough that he toppled off the chaise—which made Marinette laugh so hard she choked on her remaining cupcake. 

Adrien was dressed in a catsuit, literally rolling on the floor laughing.  That was more hilarious than even the kwamis trying to understand teenage slang.

“Marinette?  Are you okay?”  Tikki hovered up to her face, her blue eyes filling Marinette’s vision.

She giggled again, coughing out crumbs stuck in the back of her throat.

“I’m—I’m straight up vibing!”  

With that, she too rolled off the chaise and fell on top of Chat.  He yelped before giggling again, wrapping his arms around her.

“Spare vibes, Princess?  Spare vibes for a poor vibeless kitty?”

“Ack!”  She flailed as he tickled her sides.  “Nooo, stop!  You’re stealing all the vibes!”  

“Were vibes in the cupcakes?”  Pollen whispered to Kaalki, prompting another giggling fit from both Marinette and Chat Noir.

“Maybe it’s a secret,” Kaalki replied.  “Like a code.  For when the two of them want to do… whatever this is.”  She waved a hoof towards where they were tangled together.

It was only then that Marinette realized what this would look like.  And the fact that the floor wasn’t that thick, and her parents might hear something any minute.

Not to mention the fact that Adrien was tickling her.

“I, um, need some air!”  She burst, scrambling off from his chest.

“Huh?  Wait, Marinette!” 

He reached out a hand, but she’d already bolted up her ladder and shoved open her skylight.

Which, of course, let rain dump right into her bed.  Oops.

“What was in those cupcakes?”  She mumbled, climbing onto her balcony shutting the skylight behind her.  

She pressed her palms to her cheeks, trying to cool the heat there.  The rain wasn’t doing a quick enough job of it, even though the spring shower chilled the rest of her to the bone.  Had she flushed her last brain cell down the toilet?  What was she thinking? 

Of course, she was stupid with Chat Noir all the time.  They’d challenged each other to handstand contests, dared each other to eat spicy peppers, even one-upped each other’s Hawkmoth impersonations.  Chat might be Adrien, but that meant Adrien was still Chat. Knowing his identity didn’t change the fact that he was her ridiculous partner.

“Marinette?”  A blond head poked out of the skylight.  The glasses were askew on his nose; the golden hair comb had almost fallen out. “If you want me to leave, I can.  You don’t need to stay out here and get soaked.”

It was a bit late for that.  Even though she had ducked under the awning, the rain was blowing practically sideways.  She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.  Why had she worn her pajama tank?  Not that it mattered; Adrien had seen her in it before.  She could hardly embarrass herself more than she already had.

“N-no, of course not!  I just thought, we were being kind of loud, and it’s late, and since you didn’t come in through the front door…”

Chat winced as he climbed out onto the balcony to stand beside her.  Just a few seconds out in the rain, and his hair was already plastered to his forehead in a wet mop.  The glasses were too splattered to see through; he removed them and the bee miraculous with his free hand and put them in his pocket.

As for his other hand...

“Well, at least use this.  It might work a little better than your awning.”

...He popped open the umbrella.  Black and slick with rain, it brought her back to a moment two years ago.  Different green eyes, but the same soft gaze.  

“Of course you’d grab that one.”  She couldn’t help smiling.  It was the only umbrella she owned, and it had been sitting by her desk, but it still felt ironic.  

She reached for the umbrella, but Chat pulled it back at the last moment.

“Wait, it’s broken, isn’t it?”  He squinted up at its underside—

Just in time for it to snap shut on his head.

A laugh burst from her like a crack of thunder.  “Come on, Ad—Kitty.  It’s drier over here.” 

He disentangled himself from the umbrella and followed her to the corner of the balcony, where the rain hadn’t quite snuck under the awning.  

“Why do you have this old thing anyway?  Looks like a piece of junk.”  He twirled the now-closed umbrella like his baton, but fumbled it under her folding chair, where it promptly exploded open.  Chat scowled.  “Oh, I see how it is.  When I want you to open, you only know how to stay shut.  But when you’re out on your own you’re ready to party.”

The umbrella rolled slightly as it began to fill with rainwater.  Marinette laughed as Chat continued to glare at it.

“Be nice to that umbrella.  Someone very special gave it to me.”  She stretched out her legs, letting her heels dangle in the puddles in the brick.  Her fairy lights reflected in the water, casting the two of them in an ethereal glow.

“Oh, really?  Should I be jealous?”  He playfully wrapped an arm around her back.  Every place he touched burned, even though she knew the gesture was just part of his jealous act.

She hummed as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“...Oh.”  She felt him deflate, though he infused his voice with fake confidence.  “Well, good.  I’m a pretty territorial cat, you know.”

Gently, she tugged on the bell at his neck until he met her eyes.

“You don’t need to be jealous,” she clarified, “because I know he’s you.”

Chat Noir’s—Adrien’s—eyes widened.  But then his gaze softened, and he shook his head with a smile.

“I should’ve known you’d figure me out.  You’ve already done it once in your sleep.”

She blinked.  “I did?  And—and I’m right?”

She’d been sure, but it was still another thing to hear him admit it.

And it was yet another thing to hear “claws in.” To see green lightning crackle over over him, unmasking Adrien’s tender face.

The electricity had barely faded before she flung her arms around him.

“Woah!”  He laughed before hugging her back just as tightly.  “You know, I think I should be jealous.  You never hugged Chat Noir like this.”

“That’s not true.  I definitely hugged you tighter after we fought the Scrambler last week.”

“Huh.  I guess it just doesn’t have the same effect when I’m covered in egg whites.  Or maybe it’s because the suit isn’t in the way now.”

She was all too aware of that.  His bare hands were warm on her back, even through her pajama shirt.  Her face was tucked in the crook of his neck, where she could drink in his scent unobscured by the leather suit.

“Sniffing me again?”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

She flushed at being caught.  Adrien her friend from school might not have called her out for it, but Adrien her partner of two years would.  Well, two could play at that game.

“Oh, like you haven’t sniffed me before.  Besides, I can’t help it that you smell radiant, carefree, and dreamy.”

He looked mortified.  “That commercial was over a year ago!  Even Wayhem forgot about that!”

“Wayhem probably didn’t watch it two hundred and fifty-five times.”

“...I can’t tell which one of us should be more embarrassed about that.”

“Probably me,” she admitted.  “What was your point again?”

“Either we both get sniffing rights, or neither of us does.  That’s fair.”

She laughed, nuzzling deeper into his neck.  “Fine.  But I probably just smell wet.”

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in, tickling the part of her hair.  “Don’t worry.  You smell perfect.”

Maybe it should’ve been an awkward compliment, but he still found herself giddy over it.

“Thank you.  You smell like cheese.”

“Hey!”  He pouted.  “What happened to ‘radiant, carefree, and dreamy’?”

“She gave you a compliment, kid. What’s more radiant than cheese?”  Plagg asked.

Marinette nearly screamed.  She should’ve realized he was there, but he’d blended into the shadows in the wake of Adrien’s detransformation.

“Plagg!”  Adrien hissed.  “Go inside with Tikki.  We’re having a moment.”

“Yeah, whatever.”  Plagg dismissively waved a paw.  “You got any cheese in there for me, Pigtails?”

“Uh—Tikki can get you some cheese-filled pastries from downstairs.  Don’t let my parents see you.”

“They’ll never know I was there.  Unless they notice a plate of those delicious treats is gone.” The kwami grinned and dove through the floor.  

Well, that was about all she could expect.  Hopefully Tikki could keep him under control.  If not, Marinette might have to fake a rat infestation.

“Sorry about him.” Adrien sighed.  “He’s always like that.”

“Could’ve been worse.  Imagine if you were stuck with Xuppu or Roarr as your kwami.”

He laughed.  “Pretty sure my father would have grounded me for life if he saw the mess.  Or he would’ve found out my identity.  Probably both.”

Chat had been there the one day Marinette decided to let the monkey and tiger kwamis outside of the miracle box.  She’d actually had to transform and use her Lucky Charm just to undo the damage.  

“Speaking of which… I knew it was only a matter of time, but how did you learn my identity?”  He asked.  “If I need to be more careful…”

She shook her head.  “It’s not that.  I… I don’t know if I can even explain it.  At first I thought it was just wishful thinking.  Ever since we spent the night at Mr. Ramier’s apartment, I…”

She blushed and bit her lip.  Getting caught sniffing him might have been embarrassing, but admitting this somehow felt more personal.

“What?” He asked.  “Is it because I smelled the same as Chat and myself?”

“Huh?  No—well, sort of?  Maybe subconsciously.”

“Oh.  That’s what you said while you were sleeptalking.”  He shrugged.

“I guess that makes sense, since… well, I’ve been dreaming about you.  Both of you.”  

She took a deep breath.  He was still waiting patiently, his hand softly stroking her back.  If he didn’t think she was crazy yet, she guessed this wouldn’t change his mind.

“You were always the same person in my dreams.  You’d switch back and forth between Adrien and Chat Noir.  “Chat” would sit in front of me at school, or “Adrien” would help me bring down a scary akuma. Either way, it was always you.

“And then I couldn’t help looking for similarities when I was awake.  I—I started writing down all the evidence I found.  The time “Chat” almost beat me at Ultimate Mecha Strike was when I started to actually believe it.  But what finally convinced for sure me was your laugh.”

She laced her fingers together in her lap to keep from fidgeting.  All of it sounded weirder when she said it out loud.  Almost like she’d been stalking him, sticking all of their casual interactions under a microscope.

“Wow,” he breathed, leaning back against the wall.  “I’m flattered that you went through all that effort, but I don’t get it.  The only reason I didn’t reveal myself sooner was because I was afraid it would put more stress on you, and you were already dealing with so much.  Why didn’t you just ask me who I was?”

She stared into his eyes, watching the pastel lights reflect in them.  He still didn’t know.  All these secrets shared, all these weights lifted, and she still hadn’t revealed the one secret she’d wanted to confess all along.

“Because…” she licked her lips, “because I didn’t want to be wrong.  If you weren’t Adrien—I didn’t want to project my old crush onto you.  You deserve better than that.  Though I guess it doesn’t matter now, since I wasn’t projecting after all, it is you and so I should. Just be able to say this.”

He blinked at her, but then his lips began to part in a slow smile.

“Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m in love with you,” she blurted before she could lose her nerve again.  “First Adrien you, then Chat Noir you, then just, well, you.  So—so jot that down.”

A startled laugh escaped him before he squeezed her tight again.

“Consider it jotted.”  He kissed the top of her head, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  As if she wasn’t going to dissolve at the faintest sign of lip-on-hair contact.  “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m in love with all of you too.  So you can jot that down.”

It shouldn’t have undone her.  Chat Noir had confessed his love to her countless times.  Granted, all of those times had been before their battle with Miracle Queen, after which he’d obviously tried to move on.

But he still loved her.  She wasn’t too late.  

Maybe that relief was what pushed her to grab the collar of his shirt in both hands and press her mouth to his.

Her brain screamed, but her lips slowly figured out what to do, particularly when Adrien got over his shock and kissed her back.

Adrien. Holding her in his arms. Kissing her back.

She wasn’t sure if the sound she heard was the rain or the roaring in her ears or just her internal screaming. But it didn’t matter. For the first time, they were really, finally together, no secrets or fears between them. That truth was just as sweet as the kiss.

He finally pulled back, the front of his shirt damp where he’d been pressed against her. From the wide grin on his face, he didn’t mind.

“Will I get that kind of kiss every time I tell you I love you?”

“I don’t know.”  She tapped her lips. “It might be worth finding out.”

“I love you, my La—”

She cut him off with her mouth on his.

All that time waiting, every failed attempt at confessing her feelings, slipped away like the rain off the slick balcony railing.

When the sky finally cleared, she woke to them tangled together, slumped against that same railing.  She had a crick in her neck, and she’d probably end up with a cold from sleeping in her wet clothes.  But it still felt worth it to look up into Adrien’s blissful face.  Somehow she’d woken up before him—probably because her clothes had been more uncomfortable, since his were dry where his suit had covered them.

“Are you going to give me any juicy secrets in your sleep?”  She asked before kissing the side of his jaw.

His only response was to hum and hug her.

“I guess that’s a no.”  She chuckled.  “No fair.  I shouldn’t be the only one embarrassing myself in this relationship.”

Relationship.  She could’ve exploded into confetti just thinking about it.

“Mmm… love you… m’lady.”

Her breath caught at his slurred voice.

“...Well I guess I can’t complain about that.”

She rested her head back on his chest, and let the dripping remnants of rain from the gutters lull her back to sleep.

[sloanerisette]

Jyoumi Challenge 2021 Day #22: Cleanliness

Ok so I think this got a little away from me, but frankly writing settled down Jyoumi and with kids (their 02 kids) is so fluffy and sweet and I love it. I used the same names in a few of the prompts from last year, which, funnily enough, accidentally kinda work for each of their specific kids? Masao meaning right/proper and hero/man and Shin meaning real/genuine. So you know, happy little accidents! But I hope y’all enjoy! This is up a little late but I had a lot of fun with it!

---

“Do we have to clean?”

“It’s Sunday!”

While both Joe and Mimi had started to get supplies, their two sons, Masao and Shin, had both made a show of sitting in the middle of the living room of their apartment, refusing to get involved.

“It’s the perfect day for spring cleaning. And we’ve put it off too long as it is,” their dad told them, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he looked at all he and Mimi had set on the coffee table.

Mimi had pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, then tied the white apron she had put on for the occasion. Just the sight of seeing them ready left the two boys blanching.

“Well how come Bukamon and Tanemon can’t help us?” the blue-haired Masao asked, his brother falling back onto the floor, limbs spread out, staring at the ceiling as he let out a groan.

“Because if they’re anything like Gomamon is, then we wouldn’t be able to get anything done,” Joe laughed.

“Don’t worry, once we’re done we’ll bring them all back home!” Mimi said, looking at her her husband, “What should we tackle first?”

He folded his arms, deep in thought, while Mimi placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looked down at all of the cleaning products they had out, mouthing the words to each one to make sure they had everything. Meanwhile, Masao, still terrified at the concept of having to clean, looked up at his parents with horror.

“Well, I think it might be good to start with the kids’ rooms and go from there? That’s where most of the mess will probably be. Then we can probably clean up the living room and save the kitchen and bathrooms for last?” he suggested.

She nodded, “Yeah, that sounds good.” She looked down to her kids, unable to help but chuckle softly at the sight of their younger son starfished out on the ground to try and refuse cleaning.

“You’re sure we have to clean?” he asked with a sigh.

“Yes,” Joe frowned, “It’ll be nice to get your room nice and clean again. You said you thought you lost a few things, right? Well I’m sure they’re somewhere around there and we’ll know once we clean up,” he said.

“And if we have all of us, just think about how quick it’ll be!” Mimi cheered. However, neither of their sons were stirred to action.

“Ok, ok, up and at ‘em, you two,” Joe sighed, pulling Shin up, then leaning the other way to pull Masao up. Defeated, the two kids trudged along behind their parents as they went to their eldest son’s room, briefly standing in the doorway, before they went along to help.

“You know, Joe, this is almost as bad as your first apartment,” Mimi teased playfully as she already began wiping down the windows.

“W-Well that was just because I was so busy from my classes and residency!” he said, shaking his head. Behind them, pulling things out from under Masao’s bed to help clean, the two sons started to titter away.

“For someone who’s always so tidy and organized, I was really surprised,” she continued, at which Joe couldn’t help from pouting, wiping off a layer of dust from his son’s desk.

“Well, at least you can use this again,” Joe said after a few moments, turning to see their sons organizing some containers “Look who decided to help,” he said with a warm smile, “Find anything?”

“We found some of Masao’s drawings!” Shin shouted, at which Mimi near immediately set down her cleaning supplies and all but flew to their side, sitting behind them and peeking down at the old drawings.

“Ohh, these are so cute! I forgot all about these!”

“Moooom!” Masao whined, shooting a look to his brother who simply laughed. Before he could try and push them back into the plastic container, Mimi snatched them from his hands.

“Oh, this is when you got your Digi-Eggs! Oh I remember that day, you two were so cute and so tiny!” she cooed, unable to help but get a little weepy.

From where he was, helping clean and organize his son’s desk drawers, he couldn’t help but smile as he listened.

“Should we hang some up on the fridge?” he called out. Mimi’s eyes went wide at his words.

“Yes! We should! Let me grab more of these and I can put them up later!” Mimi said, grabbing all that was in the box in her hands and running off to the kitchen as fast as she could.

Masao let out another sigh before he and Shin walked over to peek into the desk drawer.

“Hey, my D3!” Masao said, reaching for it under a pile of school papers and some action figures. He pulled out the slate grey D3 and held it up, “I was wondering where it was!”

Joe’s brow furrowed, “You lost your D3?”

Masao paused, looking to his brother and then his dad.

“…No… because it was in my desk…” he said slowly, offering his dad a wide, toothy smile.

Of course, Joe couldn’t get too upset, and simply handed his son his Digivice.

“Well, try and keep it close by, ok?” he said gently, his son nodding.

Mimi came padding back in moments after, “Ok, those are all hung up, let’s get ready to clean!” she called out in a sing-song voice. Joe smiled, but of course, their kids couldn’t stop themselves from groaning.

It was a few hours later, and most of the cleaning was done, the family of four sat in the living room, dusting shelves and various books and photo albums to finish off their Sunday spring cleaning. While Joe had reached behind the television to dust, Mimi flipped open another album to do a quick once over while she ran a dust cloth across the pages.

There was a gentle smile on her face as she looked through the pictures: the old photo they took at the end of their second trip to the Digital World, a photo of her and Joe looking incredibly awkward before their first date, their high school graduations, a picture of her standing in their empty apartment…

So many incredible memories that she wouldn’t have come back to had they not opted to clean today. Had their sons not wanted to clean for so long. She set down the cloth and put a hand to her heart. Her sons clambered over to look at her, eyes wide with wonder and surprise.

“Whoa… those were you guys?” Shin asked, pointing at an old photo of a teenage Joe and Mimi, Mimi giggled.

“Mhm!” she chirped happily, “God, that was so long ago, I can’t believe it.”

Masao pointed to the photo of her standing in the completely stark empty home of theirs.

“Is that here???” he asked, amazed at the very thought. Joe looked up from where he was cleaning.

“You’re looking through the photo albums?” he asked.

“Mhm! Was dusting the shelves off and found it and decided to clean it! You have to come look at some of these!” she told him. Joe rounded the entertainment center and squatted down behind his family, looking at the pictures with a smile on his face.

“I can’t believe that’s home! It looks so empty!” Masao said. Mimi grinned.

“Well, yeah, you both weren’t here yet,” she teased. Joe couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey!” both of their sons shouted, but Mimi was quick to wrap her arms around them and pull them in for a hug.

“Even if things are a lot messier, its definitely worth having you two here,” Joe said, patting each of his boys on their shoulders, leaning in to give Mimi a kiss on the cheek.

“We can clean things up every so often, but sometimes the mess isn’t so bad,” she said.

“So does that mean…?” Masao trailed off, but Mimi shot him a wide smile.

“Oh we’re still gonna do spring cleaning, sweetie, that won’t change.”

“You’ll thank us, trust me,” Joe added.

[kjhmyg]

hey! i’m not sure if you’re still taking prompts, but rough edges jk and y/n spending the night/sharing a bed for the first time could be an idea. love your writing!!

pairing: jungkook x reader, genre: fluff, college!au, bf!jk, word count: 1.7k

a/n: cute prompt :( i assume you mean before they got physical, so this is early on in the relationship. i hope you like it! and thank you!

“So you see,” you point to the assignment on your desk, scribbling notes along the margin, “you just need to elaborate on your points more.” 

Jungkook hums, sitting back on your chair, hands behind his head. He hears you, but he’s not listening. The way he stares could burn holes onto the side of your face. With a glance in his direction, you tap the tip of your pen on the desk, directing his attention back to the assignment. It works momentarily, before his eyes dart back to you. 

“And um,” you fidget in your seat, “you should probably stick to the structure⎯”

Pushing against the floor with his foot, the swivel chair closes the distance between you and Jungkook tips your head in his direction with a finger under your chin. “You do know that I only used this as an excuse to come see you.” He says quietly, eyeing your lips. “Did you miss me? Cause I missed you.”

An hour ago, he’d called to ask for help on an assignment. It was almost ten, so you hesitated. But you hadn’t seen him in days because of your schedules and you so desperately wanted to. So did he, apparently.

“Oh, um.” You gulp, hating the way he makes you so nervous around him. It’s worse when you haven’t seen him in a while. “I guess I did…miss you.”

“You guess?” 

You take a breath and look away. “I missed you.” 

He smiles then, closing the gap between your lips for a sweet kiss. When he pulls away, you pout, looking at him with a certain look in your eyes that he’s grown to recognise. It makes him chuckle, observing you carefully. “One moment you can’t even tell me you miss me. Next, you wanna make out.”

Your eyes go wide and you resist the urge to argue because he’s right. Biting your bottom lip, you look away, back to the table and forgotten piece of assignment laying there. “Here.” You hand it back to him. There’s a small smile on your lips as you tidy up the place, trying to cover up the embarrassment.

“Kicking me out already?” He sighs, watching your back as you move. 

“No.” You say, turning back around. “I’m just…well, you didn’t really need any help so.”

“Are you angry that I lied?” The look on his face tells you he’s not actually bothered by it. He’s just trying to study you. 

“No, of course not.” You smile, leaning against your desk. “I wanted to see you too.” 

He breaks out into a grin and you look away again, feeling awkward. His hand reaches for yours and he tugs you closer, hugging your middle. Hands rest on his shoulders and you smile down at him, cupping his face. It’ll take a while before you get used to this. 

“Listen, I’ll be away tomorrow,” he starts. “You probably won’t be able to get a hold of me all weekend. I’ll see you again next week.”

“That’s okay.” You nod, trying to manage a smile to mask the disappointment. “We can hang out when you’re back.”

Nodding, he sighs, like he doesn’t want to go either. There’s momentary panic when you watch him get ready to leave, swinging his bag over his shoulder. Your thoughts fight each other internally as you stand there, contemplating. 

“I should let you get some rest.” He smiles. “See you.” 

It isn’t until he turns to leave that you come to a decision. He turns back to look at the hand clutching on to his sleeve. Eyebrows raised, he looks at you questioningly. 

“Do you want to maybe…stay the night?” You ask in a soft voice. “You don’t have to but you can.  Only if you want to.” 

“No,” he says. Your heart drops, and your mouth goes dry, inner voice screaming at you. But then his hand slips into yours, “Only if you want to, I’ll stay.” 

“Oh.” You smile sheepishly and he waits for your reply. “I…want you to stay.”

With a smile, his bag drops to the floor and he brings your face in for a chaste kiss. “Then I’m staying.”

As Jungkook washes up, you lie on the bed, trying to calm your nerves. Surely it’ll be okay, you reassure yourself, checking your reflection in the mirror a couple of times. It won’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, he’d wake up with some drool on him. Or you snoring into his ear. “Oh god.” You groan and roll over to scream into a pillow, then take a deep breath before you spiral any further. 

Jungkook comes out of the shower shirtless, using a towel to dry his hair. You pretend to be busy on your phone, watching him from the corner of your eye as he walks around the room to hang up a towel and pick up a shirt. When he pulls it over his head, you silently thank the heavens. You definitely don’t need any more distractions tonight. 

“Sorry, my bed is kinda small.” You say, making space for him to join you as he approaches. “We’re gonna have to squeeze.” 

“Perfect.” It squeaks under his weight as he carefully finds his position right next to you. The small space makes it easy for him to put his hands on you, holding you close. You can smell the soap he used and how soft his skin feels under your touch. “Thanks for letting me stay. I’m surprised, didn’t think you’d ask me to.” 

“I haven’t seen you much all week.” You pout, brushing hair away from his face. “I didn’t want to wait another week to be with you.” 

“Cute.” He comments, kissing that pout away. “You know, I haven’t been to your cafe in a while. The only reason I went was because of the pretty barista. But now I don’t have to use coffee as an excuse to see her anymore.” 

“Yeah, now you use assignments as your excuse.” You bite your lip. “Also, your regular order is a caramel frappuccino. That’s barely coffee.” 

“Well I like sweet things.” He whispers, tracing his index finger along your bottom lip. 

He leans in for soft kisses. One, two, three times, and then you push yourself up to level your face with his and he lets you pull him in for a deeper kiss. Over your pajamas, his hands roam across your body. A hand stops over your chest, just under your left breast where he can feel the way your heart beats a mile a minute. 

“You’re nervous.” He comments, studying your face. “Is it me? Do I make you nervous?”

“A little.” You admit, biting your bottom lip in the way he finds adorable. 

“Why?”

You shrug and play with the hem of your top. “I don’t know. Haven’t you ever felt nervous around someone you like?” 

The words slip out before you can stop them and your fingers scramble over your lips, eyes going wide when you realise, you just admitted your feelings for him for the first time. He laughs, squeezing you in a hug as you bury your face in his chest. 

“I get it. There’s this person, I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s weird.” He says, and you move away from him, curious. He’s looking away, in thought. “It’s like…I can’t get enough of her, you know?”

“Oh.” You gulp. “Lucky…” You mutter to yourself, feeling bitter at the thought of him being infatuated with someone else. 

“But she’s shy,” he hovers over you as he continues, “and I’m always careful around her because I don’t,” he kisses you, “want,” kiss, “to scare her off.” Kiss. “She makes me nervous.” 

Your hands on the sides of his face, you trace his features with your thumbs as he smiles down at you. “Really?” He nods. “Just so we’re clear, you’re talking about me, right?”

He laughs, then presses his body against yours as he kisses you, arms by the side of your head and yours around his. “You’re supposed to be the smart one here.” 

“Well, this is a tricky situation!” You huff. “You have a lot of admirers. I wouldn’t know if you’re seeing other girls too.” 

“I haven’t seen anyone else since our date.” 

“Really? Why?” 

He shrugs and rolls to the side, on his back, where he slips his arm under your neck. “Thought about you a lot after. Kinda just wanted to see you.” 

“Me too.” You say, snuggling up to him. “Can I be honest? I wasn’t expecting much when we went out the first time. I just knew you as this handsome, popular guy, but that’s it. Then we started to hang out more and I…kinda just want to see where this goes.” 

“I do too.” He hums, rubbing your back. After a while in silence, your eyes slowly start to flutter to a close, making him chuckle. “You must be tired.”

“I had a long day.” You admit, regretful you can’t stay up much longer, especially knowing he’d be gone in the morning. You place your hand over the side of his face, stroking it gently, then moving up to his hair, patting it gently.

“This is nice.” He says. “We should have sleepovers more often.” 

“Yeah, we could paint each other’s nails and braid each other’s hair. Talk about boys all night.” You chuckle, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. 

He tickles your side and you yelp, covering your mouth right after while your other hand tries to stop him. With a finger to your lips, you shush him, “Hana’s sleeping in the other room.” 

“She’ll get used to it.” He grins, shrugging it off. “I think I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here with you.”

“We’ll see about that.” 

You roll over to switch off the lamp on your nightstand, leaving only the faint street light coming in through the window. It makes only part of his face visible and you smile at him, even though he can’t see you. His arm pulls you in closer by the waist and you snuggle up to him, resting your head against his chest, as your own hand wraps loosely around his waist. With a kiss on the top of your head, he rests his chin on you. You let yourself melt into him, with the sound of his breathing and steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

[e-milieeee]

i love you a latte—adrienette

Summary: Running on 5 cups of coffee and the extra boost her transformation gives her, Marinette’s determined to finish her project before the sun rises.

(Adrien’s just here to distract her, and honestly, it’s working.)

Notes: honestly i labelled it adrienette but it has a mix of ladynoir, ladrien and adrienette but its post reveal so it doesn’t actually matter LOLOLOL 

Or read on AO3! 

Marinette was stressed.

Her desk was a testament of that: it was littered with papers, candy wrappers, string, fabric and the coffee stain from two hours ago that she hadn’t bothered wiping up. The flat wasn’t any better. Like a risky game of jenga, the sink was piled high with dirty dishes. Takeout boxes were stacked just as precariously in the trash. Her closet, a complete and utter nightmare, fared no better. Marinette had a headache just looking at the mess, and thinking about having to clean it made her nauseous. So she just didn’t clean it.

As Adrien often told her, she was awful at dealing with stress.

It didn’t help that the project was due in three days. Marinette had been slaving through it for weeks on end, but the last design was particularly difficult. There was always something that didn’t seem right, but she could never pinpoint it. Now, as the end product was slowly but surely beginning to assemble, and Marinette didn’t have time for distractions. And tidying and doing dishes and sleeping were all distractions.

The clock read two thirty in the morning. If she worked hard enough, she could be finished by dawn. Then, she could sleep all through the morning, wake up in the afternoon, and start the revisions. It was a relatively foolproof plan if she didn’t count the fact that she might not be able to make it until morning.

The fifth cup of coffee just wasn’t doing it. Marinette needed something stronger.

For a moment, she sat still in her chair, contemplating her options. Then a burst of sleep deprived brilliance struck Marinette.

“Tikki,” she called.

Her kwami had dozed off on Marinette’s desk rather early in the night, but she startled awake quickly with a, “Yes?”

“I’m going to transform,” Marinette decided. “It’ll fight off the sleep better.”

“Don’t you think sleeping would be a better option? Then you can work on it in the morning!”

“Sleeping is not an option.” Especially not when she was in the final run, and all she needed to do was finish…

Tikki gave her a look that Marinette was well accustomed to: bad idea, but your choice. Given that there was no verbal or physical resistance, she took it as an agreement, no matter how reluctant. Tikki had witnessed firsthand how wonderfully terrible Marinette was with deadlines and always did her best to accommodate.

“Tikki, spots on!”

A flash of pink later, Marinette was suited and ready to work again. She downed the coffee for good measure, fought back a yawn, and positioned herself in front of the sewing machine.

“I’m Ladybug,” she said aloud, turning to her sewing machine. “I’m Ladybug, and I’m going to finish this—”

A tapping sound interrupted her. Ladybug whirled around. Even her muddled brain could comprehend that if somebody were to see Ladybug sitting in Marinette’s apartment, the dots wouldn’t be so hard to connect.

To her relief, it was a familiar pair of green eyes that blinked at her through the window. Chat Noir was crouching on the ledge, mouthing something that Ladybug couldn’t hear. She scrambled from her chair, nearly knocking her cup down in the process, and slid open the window.

A gust of cool, night breeze swept inside. For a moment, she wondered if leaving the window would help her stay more awake… then a particularly strong gust sent the papers on her desk flying out of order, and she slammed it shut behind Chat.

“What are you doing here?” Ladybug asked when a semblance of order had been restored.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied simply. “What about you?”

She winced. “Final project.”

He eyed the room contemplatively, and it hit Ladybug just how messy everything was. She let out a mortified squeak of shock, but the dirty dishes and takeout boxes and unfolded laundry weren’t going anywhere. “Out!” she shrieked. “Oh my God, out!”  

“Plagg, claws in!”

Before Ladybug could shove him back through the window out of embarrassment, it was no longer Chat but Adrien that stood there, hands raised in a placating gesture. She froze. She couldn’t send him tumbling down thirteen stories like she could with Chat Noir.

He was donning the Ladybug pajamas he was so unabashedly proud of, hair loose and messy—his Chat hair. He definitely looked like he had rolled right out of bed.

Slowly, Ladybug backed down with a groan. “Don’t you dare comment about the state of the apartment. I know it’s bad.”

“Wasn’t going to, m’lady.”

“As long as you have food in your fridge,” a grumpy voice interrupted, “I don’t mind how messy it is either.”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Plagg as he zipped out from Adrien’s hair. “This idiot here couldn’t sleep, so he dragged me up, and for what? Oh, Plagg, I just want some fresh air! Plagg, please? I’ll buy you extra camembert. Plagg, you know how my insomnia acts up sometimes.” Plagg retched. “Fresh air my ass. I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew he was just going to be sticking his tongue down your throat.”

Adrien’s face went pink. “Plagg!”

“Shut up and feed me.”

“Glutton,” Adrien shot back, sticking his tongue out petulantly at his kwami. “Marinette, do you have food? And why are you transformed?”

“Uh,” she managed. She tried to think what was left in her fridge, but her brain wasn’t functioning enough for it. “I think I can focus better as Ladybug? Anyway, there’s cookies in the cabinets for Tikki. Plagg can either eat that or the raw meat in the freezer.”

Plagg, bemoaning how he hated Adrien, floated off to the cabinets in search of sweets.

Meanwhile, Adrien rounded her desk to lean on the other (slightly cleaner) side. “How many cups of coffee?”

Ladybug returned to the sewing machine. “Five. I think it stopped working.”

“I think it’s because you’ve drank so much coffee these past couple years that you’ve slowly built up immunity to the caffeine. Did you sleep last night?”

“Yes.” She paused, counting the time. “Two and a half hours.”  

Adrien looked horrified. “Marinette!” he exclaimed. “You still have three days to finish. You need to take a break.”

He was right, but while she did need the break, the project also needed to be finished. Sure, there were three more days, but Ladybug needed to have the wiggle room for revisions and checking and double-checking for perfection.

“If I finish tonight, I have time to relax and revise without stressing about it,” she explained, although Adrien looked less convinced after each word. “I’m already behind schedule, since I’ve been working on the last dress forever and this is the fourth try.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you look like you’re about to pass out.” He gave her desk another scan as if to prove the point. “Seriously, Marinette, you’ll produce better work if you’re well rested and not running on caffeine.”

Once again, Adrien was right. She could barely go ten minutes without scrubbing her face with water or rubbing her eyes and yawning. Then a wave of panic rushed over her. The dress she had been working on had been made when she was not well rested, which meant it wasn’t under the category of better work, which meant she should redo it all from scratch so she could submit her best quality work—

“Marinette,” Adrien interrupted like he knew exactly what she was going to say. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Just sleep.”  

“But—”

Before she could formulate the rest of the protest, Adrien had scooped her out of the chair. Ladybug was too tired to put up a struggle. “Have you eaten any fruits or vegetables in the past couple of days?” he demanded as he carried her towards the bedroom. “Wait, have you even been eating three meals? Have you been eating two meals?”

Ladybug scrunched her nose. “What are you, my mom?”

“Your mom would ask you the same,” he shot back immediately. “Seriously, Mari, you need to take care of yourself more.”

Too tired to argue with him, she shut her eyes and curled up against his chest. Sleep was a dangerous thing; once she gave into it, there was no way out. “S’okay,” she mumbled. “You’ll take care of me.”

“Then you better let me do my job.”

She giggled. “You are like my mom.”

“And as your mother, I’m putting you to bed.”

Bed. The word sounded comforting and lovely and warm ( Adrien was all that as well). The last thing she felt was Adrien setting her gently down on the mattress, pulling the duvet over her, and then the rest was oblivion.

***

Marinette woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into her room. Which was a rare commodity because breakfast was her favourite meal to skip.

The bed was comfortable and warm, blankets tucked all around her. Given her penchant for kicking her covers off in the middle of the night, that meant she had been recently tucked in, and—

Adrien. Everything came flooding back. Adrien was here in her apartment—her unpresentable, messy apartment—and he had somehow coaxed her to sleep last night when she could’ve spent the time finishing up her project. He had also managed to get her to detransform, because she was once again wearing the same clothes she had been wearing for at least two days.  

Marinette shot out of bed, now properly horrified. She scrambled. She flailed. She stubbed her toe on the drawer and fled into the living room, where the delightful smell of breakfast was the strongest.

Adrien was standing at the stove, wearing her pink apron, still in his Ladybug pajamas. That wasn’t the most surprising part, though: every mess in the kitchen and living room had been straightened, cleaned, or disposed of.

Marinette gaped.

Having noticed her presence, he turned around and waved, spatula still in hand. Sunlight slanted through the windows and onto the couch—the couch that just last night was so full of clothing and papers that no one could sit on—which was now clear. Only cushions sat in their rightful place. It looked like he had performed a full-on exorcism on the mess.

“Adrien,” Marinette managed aloud, “what happened here?”

He flipped an egg. “I tidied up a little when I woke up this morning,” he replied. “And, uh, restocked a bit of your groceries. You were running low.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “In full honesty, I only got up because Plagg was yelling at me about having no proper sustenance, so I decided to clean to pass the time.”

The little black kwami floated out as if summoned. “Just because Tikki likes cookies,” he sniffed, “doesn’t mean I do.” As if to prove his point, he waved a whole wheel of camembert. Marinette stuck out her tongue at Plagg before turning back to Adrien.

“You had time to clean and get groceries?” she asked. “There was… a lot of stuff around here. Like, a lot. It would’ve taken me at least hours to tidy.”

Adrien transferred the eggs from the pan to the two plates. He gestured at the counter, where the digital clock sat. “It’s eleven, so I had three hours to do all of that.”

Eleven. The realization dropped like a bomb and Marinette nearly screamed. “Eleven?” she yelped, whirling on Adrien. “Why did you let me sleep for so long? Why didn’t you wake me up? I wasn’t even supposed to sleep last night and I’m not finished and this means—”

“Marinette, relax!”

She slowed to a halt. “You still have time,” Adrien continued soothingly, in the specific tone he used every time he needed to calm her down. “I let you sleep in because you need to be well-rested to put out your best work, and you need to eat a healthy, balanced meal in order to focus later. You can work all day afterwards. But right now, we’re going to have brunch together, and you’re not going to think of your project until we finish.”

Marinette didn’t want to wait. The fact that she was so close yet not quite made her uncomfortably jittery and the only remedy would be to work work work so she could just get it done with, but that wasn’t rational or reasonable. Besides, the meal Adrien had cooked smelled delicious and it would be rude to not eat it with him…

Relax, she told herself. I’ll finish in time. It’ll be okay.

Marinette breathed in a full body inhale, then let it out slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, let’s eat.”

Adrien’s eyes crinkled and she felt herself relax slightly. “Just sit,” he told her. “I’m supposed to pamper you today.”

The table was already set, so Marinette slid into the chair as Adrien set down her plate in front of her. On it were the eggs he had been frying, a scallion pancake, strawberries, and a generous serving of hash browns. Ever since his father had been defeated, Adrien started dropping by their family’s bakery more and more, and her mother had taken to both feeding him and teaching him how to properly cook. It turned out that Adrien had what Sabine called the Culinary Touch, because once he started learning, everything he made was heavenly.

Her mug was set down before her, and Marinette let out a squeak of delight. “You learned how to do this?” she asked, beaming at the cream heart decorated perfectly on top.

Adrien gave her a cheeky grin. “I love you a latte,” he announced proudly.

Marinette moaned. “You ruined it.”

“Nah, you love my puns.”

“I love a lot of things about you, but your internet-stolen puns aren’t one of them.”

He feigned hurt, clutching his chest. “All of this,” he cried, gesturing grandly, “was for that pun. I only ask for a minuscule amount of appreciation, Bugaboo, yet you wound me with your insults—”

“Shut up, drama queen,” Marinette laughed, picking up her utensils. “Ugh, I’ve been craving scallion pancakes for so long. And you make these exactly like my mom.”

Adrien preened. “We established that I am your mother last night,” he reminded her.

“I don’t claim responsibility for anything I said, agreed to, or didn’t agree to last night. Also, how did you get my transformation off?”

It was Adrien’s turn to groan. “I had to bribe you into saying Tikki, spots off, ” he grumbled. “You don’t know how hard it was. For someone who put up such a struggle about not wanting to sleep, as soon as you touched the bed, you were out like a light.”

Marinette, not remembering anything that happened last night, was more than happy not to recall. “But you managed it in the end, didn’t you?”

“But at what cost?” Adrien speared a hashbrown. “What would Paris think to know that their beloved Ladybug was actually such a bratty menace?”

Torn between curious and mortified, Marinette asked, “What did I do?”

Adrien gave her a wicked little grin. “I’m not telling,” he sang.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her beg for the answer, Marinette dug back into her breakfast and tried to appear disinterested. Apparent lack of interest was always the easiest way for Adrien to crack.

It only took a minute or so before he spoke up again. “Do you want to know what you did?”

Marinette arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re asking, not me.”

“C’mon, humour me, buginette.”  

“Only because you said so, chaton. What deal with the devil did you strike last night?”

He grinned. “I think I’ll save that for another time. You need to get to work soon.”

Marinette glared at him, mentally filing away the fact that she was going to wiggle the information out of him one way or another. Stuffing the last piece of scallion pancake into her mouth, she sat back with a content sigh. “This was good.”

“And it was a well balanced meal,” Adrien added drily, also cleaning his plate. “Which you should be eating despite the fact that you have a final project due. I saw at least three Chinese take-outs in your trash can.”

“One was from last week!”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “Is that supposed to be better or worse?”

Shaking her head, she smiled at him instead. “Thank you,” Marinette told Adrien, and she meant it. “You’re the best.”

He returned the smile, green eyes crinkling. Back in lycée, her heart would’ve turned to mush if he smiled at her in such a way. Now, five years later, Marinette was no closer to stopping the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn’t her fault he had such a lovely smile.

Adrien was the first to look away, sweeping her empty plate from in front of her in one smooth movement. “I’ll do the dishes,” he offered. “Finish your project, and maybe we can cook dinner together.”

Before Marinette could agree, he leaned down and planted a quick kiss against her cheek in one fluid movement. “Good luck. I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

She stared at him for a couple seconds longer as he headed towards the kitchen. She didn’t deserve Adrien. Amazing, kindhearted, hardworking, considerate Adrien who was everything anybody could ever ask for.

“Marinette?” he stuck his head out. “I love you a latte.”

She groaned. Of course he had to pun.

"I also love you a latte," she replied reluctantly.

(All the embarrassment was worth the grin that spread across his face.)  

Notes: This is part 3 of my lovesquare drabbles, although they’re all loosely interconnected and each work as a standalone. If you’re interested, here’s part one, and here’s part two! 

Here’s my fic masterlist.

[sohin-ace]

Kakyoin - Visiting

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

Your friend Kakyoin Noriaki has been absent from school for 2 days now and you started to get worried.

You've taken it upon yourself to collect all the homework and write the lessons for him as you knew he was a top student, and decided you'd pay him a visit.

As you walked towards his house you made sure one last time that you had everything ready for him. You nervously knocked on his door, only to be greeted a few moments later by a very beautiful woman.

"Hello, who might you be?" The lady said, her red curls flowing gracefully along her shoulders.

Getting out of your daze, you stuttered, and bowed. "A-ah, yes! Hello, My name is L/N Y/N, I'm your son's classmate, I came to give him his homework and check up on him..."

You blushed a bit in embarassement and nervousness. It felt so weird to meet his parents like that.

"Oh my! What a nice young lady! Thank you for your kind gesture, please come inside." She opened the door wide for you and you thanked her.

"Sorry for intruding..." You muttered as you removed your shoes and a rather familiar deep voice suddenly replied.

"Not at all. You are more than welcomed here, miss. It's nice to see that Noriaki has made such nice friends."

You turned towards the voice and saw a tall charming man walking towards you. He had the same chiseled features and kind eyes as Kakyoin. You greeted him politely as well and his mother commented right after.

"And cute ones too~" She giggled and you blushed at the compliment. "You know, Noriaki... He has always been very shy. We were always scared that he wouldn't make friends." Your eyes softened on them and his father continued.

"Please, take good care of him. He may seem cold, but he just has solid values, he is a kind person."

"O-of course! I'll do everything I can for him! He's very important to me..." You trailed off shyly and the parents shared a knowing look before smiling and the father patted your back.

"Okay, come on now, go join him, he'll be very happy to see you. It's the second door to the right, upstairs."

"Thank you so much! See you later!" You bowed to them and ran up the stairs as the two adults watched you leave.

"I like her."

"How come he never spoke of her? They should get married already!"

"Shhh! Not so fast, honey. Let's tease him a little bit over dinner some times." They snickered to themselves like giddy children.

"...Kakyoin?" You called out as you arrived to his door and knocked softly.

No response. You insisted one more time, but were greeted by silence again. You carefully opened the door and looked around, only to find your friend asleep on his bed.

Your eyes widened a bit as you didn't know what to do. You didn't want to disturb him or wake him up. Should you give the homework to his parents and go? But at the same time you didn't want to bother his nice parents any further.

You decided to stay and closed the door behind you. You looked around his room with curiosity. It was fairly tidy, it was mostly what you would expect to see from the bedroom of a boy like him.

You put your bag down and dragged his desk chair next to his bed and sat down. You looked at him as he was snoring softly, probably struggling to breathe through his nose.

He looked so peaceful and relaxed, his face was flushed red and his hair was disheveled. You gripped his blanket and pulled it up to cover him as his chest was heaving and brimmed with cold sweat.

"Poor him..."

You leaned to rest your head over his stomach and patted him softly over his blanket. You thought you would wait a bit until he wakes up. After some time and before you could doze off, he stirred and huffed a bit, signaling he was waking up.

"Huh...? Who-..." He croaked out softly, his deep voice husky from his throat being sore and dry.

You got up, leaving your hand gently over him and smiled. "Hi, Kakyoin. It's just me!"

He finally recognized you and his expression shifted to tired surprise. "Y/N?"

He tried to sit up to greet you properly but you pushed him back down. "Stay put, Kakyoin. You don't look good at all."

"Y-yeah, I got a nasty case of the flu. Gosh I must look horrible, I wish you wouldn't have seen me in this state..." He looked away while running a hand over his face and hair. "And my hair too..."

"Hey, what are you saying? To be honest I'm surprised. You're still handsome as ever!" His breath hitched and he hid his face under his blanket as you grinned. "And if you saw me when I'm sick you'd be so scared. I look like a zombie!"

You laughed and he chuckled a bit at your joke before it turned into a coughing fit, to which you patted his arm in vain support.

"Aah... But really, thanks for visiting me... I didn't know you knew my address."

"Jotaro has been nice enough to tell me."

He was not surprised, Jotaro had been not so secretly acting like a wingman for a while. "Ah... Of course he did..."

You two stood there in confortable silence before you suddenly perked up, breaking the ice. "... Ah! I almost forgot!"

You started rummaging through your bag, taking out the books and papers you came to give him.

"I brought the homework and lessons that you missed. I'm sorry to talk about school when you're sick but... I didn't want you to fail so I... Ah... I actually took notes in history class instead of sleeping!" You sheepishly admitted with a chuckle and his eyes softened on you.

You were so adorable in his eyes and you always acted to selflessly. It was comforting to see that he could actually count on you at all times and that your friendship was not just an in-school thing.

"Thank you so much, Y/N." He tried, his voice still raucous and quiet. "You can just put everything on my desk, I'll give you a phone call if I have any questions."

"Sure! Okay!" You got up to put everything neatly on his desk. Now that this was dealt with you could either go home or spend more time with your lovely friend.

"Hey, I was thinking of something fun." You started and he hummed in response, rolling to his side on the bed to get a better look at you. "Your parents are sooo sweet! Now I see where you got your looks and kindness from! And you sound just like your father too! And your mom's hair, wow!"

Kakyoin's eyes widened. People have been telling him that he indeed looked a lot like his parents, but it still felt different to hear it from you.

"Really? I guess it's true then." He smiled tiredly and you excitedly continued, all giddy.

"You are like... The perfect mix of both your parents' qualities!"

He blushed even darker than he already was, his heart jumping in his chest as he closed his heavy lids. "You're too cute, Y/N..."

You smiled and suddenly slipped your hand under the blanket to grab his own and pull it out. You gently rubbed your fingers over his warm skin and he sighed delightfully. Your hands were cold but somehow it felt refreshing against his burning fever.

"Say..." You started a bit timidly. "Since I met your parents, can I call you by your first name? It'll be weird if I keep on calling you Kakyoin, just like I call them."

"Of course, Y/N, you didn't have to ask me." He engulfed your own hand with his free one and continued softly. "I have been waiting for a while for you to call me by my given name..."

"I should have known... Sorry." You brought his hand towards your face and laid gentle smootches on his knuckles.

He shuddered at the contact and his heart started hammering in his chest. Your lips were so soft and your kisses were so sugary and precious.

"Yo-...you'll be sick too if you do that, Y/N." He gulped and avoided your eyes, but you only reassured him gently in return.

"Don't worry, I never get sick."

It was bad, so bad that you were toying with his fragile little heart. He had to muster all his self-control to not have Hierophant Green wrap himself all around you and squeeze you like a snake.

You let go of him and proceeded to get up. "I should go and let you rest, now. I can see that your drifting off to sleep."

Oh no, so soon? Part of him really didn't want you to go, but he couldn't deny that he was about to pass out any second now. And your gentle voice and soothing ministrations sure didn't help him stay wide awake.

"Alright... Thank you again for visiting me, Y/N. You truly are special. I already feel better."

You leaned down and brushed some hairs out of his face and he could only gaze at your shiny diamonds of eyes with his half lidded purple ones.

"Noriaki... Sometimes you worry me..." You murmured and delicately ran your thumb over the scars that crossed his eyes, scared to hurt him even though they were long healed. "Please take care of yourself."

You leaned down and kissed his cheek lovingly, craddling his burning face in your hands as his heart fluttered in his chest. He could feel your soft hair cascading over his face and your gentle hands holding him like he was glass.

The proximity alone was sending him reeling and he thanked the heavens that his sinuses were clogged because he knew that if he smelled your delicious scent, he would most likely perish.

You lingered a bit after the kiss and he let himself finally pass out. Falling asleep in your hold was just the best way to fall asleep and, with a final caress from you, you let go and took your bag as quietly as you could before putting his chair back and leaving.

You descended the stairs and the two parents joined you as you were about to put on your shoes.

"Ooh you're leaving already? How was he?" His mother spoke.

"Yes. He's still very tired, I didn't want to dwell on too long and disturb him, or you two."

"It's fine." His father joined in. It still struck you how alike they looked. "Don't hesitate to come back anytime, we'd love to know more about our son's frequentations."

"Of course! Thank you again for letting me in. I'd love to come back if Kak- I mean... If Noriaki is fine with it."

They both looked at each other and smiled at the sudden mention of their son's first name from you. Oh how sweet young love was.

"Take care Y/N-chan."

"Be careful on the way home!" They greeted politely and you waved at them while walking out.

As they closed the door behind you, they tried their best to bite back their giggles.

"This is so adorable! Our son got himself a cute little pearl."

"I bet on 3 children."

"4. And a dog."

Bonus:

"Sooo Nori boy~"

Oh no, thought the teenager. He knew when his father hit him with the 'Nori boy', nothing good could follow from here.

The youngest Kakyoin put his fork down and stared at his father with worry. "...Yes?"

"About that girl, you know~" His father smirked as the young boy gulped. "That Y/N girl from last time. You never mentioned her before? Well I don't think you did, I definitely would have remembered such a cute girlfriend for my son."

The boy flinched at the word and his mother giggled before she followed along to her husband's teasing.

"Why not invite her for dinner? We have so much to say, and she seems to really, really like you~"

"Y-you're mistaken... It's really not like that..." The boy fretted, feeling the temperature rise consequently.

"Look darling, his cheeks are all red!"

"I see that, honey, I see that!"

"PLEASE!"

*Cardi B voice* cORONA VIRUS IT'S GETTING REAL SHIT'S GETTING REAL

[venushasvixens]

More Than a Maid - Phantom Manor Pt. 3

Keeping Ravenswood Manor tidy and presentable is hard work. Chamber maid Anna has kept to a strict schedule ever since she had started working at the manor for a number of years. Back then, it was just her and her brother, Jasper, taking care of the family and the manor. Over the years, Thunder Mesa had boomed, and so did the number of jobs. Yes, cleaning and cooking for a living seemed a little low for others, but for her, the pay was just more than money. 

Having been accepted for the job for extra help for then baby Melanie, Anne came into the manor with the mindset that she was going to be working for a bunch of uptight snobs. She can clearly remember her first day of work. Jasper was still awaiting news from Mr. Ravenswood for the groundskeeper job, one that would suit him very well. Prepared for the worse, she was certainly taken aback from Martha Ravenswood warm welcome. 

“Welcome, darling!” Martha exclaimed, beckoning Anna into the foyer. “Me and Henry are very happy that you’re here!” 

“O-of course, Mrs. Ravenswood.” she stuttered, anxious about her first impression. 

“Oh please, call me Ms. Martha. Ravenswood does sound a little demeaning, doesn’t it? And I am most definitely the least demeaning person here.” she closed the door behind Anna. “But I do say, wait for the intimidation to show up, he’s just coming in from a meeting.” 

“I-i’m very pleased to be here.” Anna said, her grip on her bag loosening. 

“As am I. Did the work agency let you know of little Melanie?” Martha questioned, motioning  Anna to follow. 

“U-uh, yes! I have had plenty of experience with little ones. Especially the little rowdy children.” Anna said. 

Martha laughed. “They can be a bit of pain, yes?” she said, walking into the kitchen. 

“Oh, but not my Melanie. I swear, I’ve never seen a baby sleep so soundly. Please do sit. ” 

“Just like that? It usually takes a bottle and a bit of playtime.” Anna said as she sat down, setting her suitcase on her side. 

Martha nodded. “The second I put her down in her cradle and she is snoring in no time. It must be the magic of the land the manor is built on that does that.” she chuckled lightly. 

“Magic?” Anna enquired. 

“I know it sounds mad, but it's true. There is something about this land that has a certain enchantment to it. It was almost like it was called to Henry, like it wanted us here.” Martha said. “Oh well, enough about that! Let me show you around!” 

- 

“And finally, the last spot of the grand tour, is Henry’s office.” Martha pushed the doors wide open, a gush of air hitting Anna in the face. 

“Oh my, so many books.” Anna awed, clasping her hands together. 

“You needn’t worry about cleaning those, he always has one of them in his hand.” Martha said, picking up a book. “One reason I accepted his proposal, he is a smart man. Smart enough to marry a lovely lady like me.” She smiled, poofing up her curly bun. 

Anna laughed. “A smart man, indeed.”

The sound of the front doors closing alerted Martha. 

“Henry, we’re up here!” Martha turned to Anna,”If he seems a bit curt with you, he is just tired, nothing personal.” 

“A bit personal if you are in my study, touching my things.” he spoke back from the stairs. 

Anna had impressed Martha, and now it was time for the man of the house. Would he be tough but fair, or rude and demeaning? The doors to the study opened, and in walked Henry. 

The man had his small case in hand, a bit of a jaunt in his step. He placed it down on the ground and set his hat on his desk. He gave Martha a small peck on the cheek. 

“You could’ve greeted me in the parlor.” he said quietly, still waiting to acknowledge Anna. “You know how I love to see your sweet face after a long day.” 

“Oh how flattering. Darling, this is Anna Jones, our new chambermaid.” she said, placing her hand on Anna’s back. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Anna said, sticking her hand out for a handshake. Henry’s gaze met Anna’s, his dark eyes staring straight into her soul. Anna noticed the small tremble in her hand, relaxing before anyone could notice. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Jones.” Henry said, gently taking Anna’s hand into both of  his, and shaking it. “I’ve heard good things about you. And I trust you met my Melanie?” 

“Yes sir. But I’m afraid that she’s asleep.” Anna replied. 

“Oh let me go get her. I’ll tell you, she has the prettiest eyes anyone has ever seen.” Henry hurried out of the room, Martha following him. 

“Sweetest, don’t wake the baby, she’s napping!” Martha’s voice trailed off down the hallway. 

Shifting where she stood, Anna looked around the room. She noticed just how neat the room looked. There really was no need to tidy this room. From the top of the drapes, to never used before fireplace, not a speck of dust. It was still beautiful though, the deep mahogany furnishing reaching into the ceiling. Anna walked over to the huge windows, looking at a perfect view of the gardens. The workers outside were planting rose bushes, as well as some baby trees. How nice it is to be rich, Anna thought. 

“Here she is! My pride and joy.” Henry announced, holding Melanie tenderly in his arms. “Melanie, my flower, wake up.” he gently nudged her. 

The little baby sleepily opened her eyes, yawning. She looked around the room, her eyes growing just a little wider in bewilderment, cooing.

“Always so surprised, she is.” Martha said, rubbing the back of Melanie’s head. 

“Curious is the word I’m looking for, just like her father.” Henry replied, taking Melanie over to the windows by Anna. He lifted her in the air, making silly noises. Melanie giggled, reaching towards her father. 

“Look Melanie!” Martha pointed to Anna, “that’s your new friend!” 

Anna smiled at Melanie, smiling and giving a tiny wave to her. The baby looked at her new friend, her eyes widening further. Henry moved closer to her. 

“She’ll learn to like you, I promise.” he said. “She just has to warm up-” 

Suddenly, Melanie reached out,  wanting to be held by her, her tiny hands trying to grab onto Anna. 

“Oh nevermind.” Henry chuckled, passing her over. “Well that was quick.” 

Melanie’s head laid softly on Anna’s shoulder, cuddling into her, a small smile spread across her small face. Anna laughed quietly, patting her on the back. 

“That is certainly a good sign.” Martha beamed, “Welcome to the manor, Anna.”

- 

Smiling at the memory, Anna finished preparing the afternoon tea for Mr. Ravenswood. She quickly placed the sugar and creamer on the tray, and made her way up to the study. Mrs. Ravenswood was in town with Melanie shopping, and wouldn’t be back for some time. That and to get away from Mr. Ravenswood. 

With a boom in Thunder Mesa, Henry was very, very, stressed. And with stress, came frustration and anger. It could be as simple as a spoon falling and the man would blow his top. Anna did try her best to steer clear of his tantrums, and it worked pretty well. That was because she brought him food, which calmed him some. 

“You saved my life again, Ms. Jones, thank you.” he would say every time she came in with his meals. It was a bit odd though. He wasn’t very nice to the other house staff, excluding Jasper. Henry would always ask for Anna, even when she was terribly busy with cleaning or cooking. Did it feel nice to be always called on? A little, yes. Meant she wasn’t being forgotten underneath the growing number of workers in the house. 

Making her way up to the top of the stairs, she felt the cool breeze of the study doors opening. 

“Ah, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you.” Henry said, his arms crossed. 

“I’m so sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Anna said, rushing into the room. She quickly placed the tea tray on the side of the desk. 

“It's alright, just a bit quiet and lonesome today.” Henry replied, chuckling.  “With all this business cooling down some today, I got a little used to the noise.” 

“Me as well, I’m missing it. I’ll say this now, and just wait, it’ll come back tenfold.” Anna smiled, pouring a cup. 

It got a bit quiet after, and a little awkward. She expected Ravenswood to say something back, but he didn’t. He walked back to his desk, rearranging paperwork and tidying up. The quicker she placed his afternoon snack and drink, the sooner she could go back and relax. When he was alone like this, it felt okay to make conversation, but with Martha? Absolutely not. It felt like she was intruding on their time together, even when she was cleaning. Anna had never been married, just courted. She didn’t have time for love either. It was sad to say that her work consumed her life. Did she want what they had, the safety and love of having a partner to get through the hardships of living? Yes. She wished for it everyday. But it wasn’t written in the stars for her. 

“Anna, can I ask you something?” Henry said, his deep voice making her jump. 

“Yes sir?” Anna turned around, her hands folded. 

Henry looked down, twiddling with his pen. It was a bit out of character for him to do that. The great businessman known as Henry Ravenswood, strong and stern, twiddling and fidgeting before the house maid. 

“Do you know why I always call on you?” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the pen. 

Anna thought for a moment. “Because I know how you like your tea.” She placed the cup on the desk. 

He chuckled. “That was close. But its because..” Ravenswood got up, and slowly headed over to Anna. 

“Now promise me you won’t tell anyone I said this, but its because you’re different from the others. You know how to carry on in a subject, and how to improve it. You give me a laugh with your wits. It brings me some peace to my hectic mind. Martha can’t really do any of that with me. Its like I always offend her in some way, or she just doesn’t understand what I say.” he confessed. 

Anna was very surprised by this. It seemed they got along well, but it looks like they didn’t. It warmed her heart. She brought him something to put his mind at ease. 

“Including that and you’re just so..” Taking a step closer, he glanced at Anna, and anywhere else but her eyes. “So beautiful.” 

“T-thank you sir, I’m flattered.” Anna said shakingly, both scared and happy at his comment. She dug her nails into her hands. 

“I swear, when I first saw you, I thought I might had seen an angel, radiating a breath of fresh air into my home.” he said lowly. “How can I be so sure you’re not a vision?” 

Blushing, Anna extended her hand. “You can shake it. I’m flesh and blood, I promise.” she smiled. 

Henry looked at her hand, a blank expression covered his face. It seemed like an eternity before he took her hand into his. Instead of shaking it, he gently took the knuckles of her hand, and kissed it gingerly. It was as if he was afraid she was going to burst into a thousand pieces, like she was going to break. 

“You’re real.” he whispered, rubbing the spot where he kissed. “I can attest to it.” 

Anna gave a small laugh, Henry smiling. They both built up the courage to look at each other, their fears starting to slip away. 

“W-well, I believe I must go back to work.” Anna headed to the door, fiddling with her apron. “Is there anything you may need before I go, sir?” 

Henry sighed, looking around. She glanced at his desk, then at the door, and finally at him. He took cautious steps towards her, his hand lifting her chin. Anna looked into his eyes, watching his expressions change in a matter of seconds, not deciding on which face it did. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips meeting Anna’s. She closed her eyes, kissing him back. She could stay like this, had it not been for her heart pounding in her chest and the threat of someone walking in. He pulled back, his touch leaving her. A bit disappointed, he walked back to his desk, sitting down. 

“I believe I have everything I want, thank you, Ms. Jones.” Henry smiled. 

Anna smiled back, and opened the door. Closing it behind her, she stood on the other side for a moment. She wanted to savor it, live in it just a while longer. Happy with her new secret, she giddily walked down the stairs. She giggled like a school girl who had received her first kiss. A sense of thrill ran through her arms and legs, getting ready to zap out of her fingertips. I want more, she thought. More of his embrace, of his presence. But at the same time, it felt wrong. That was her boss, a married man. She did not contribute to that marriage or to raising Melanie. Oh what if Martha found out? Melanie could’ve walked in on that. She would destroy a union, and traumatized their most prized possession. Another part of her said, who cares? As long as she kept it a secret, there would be no harm done. Easy as that. 

She was so distracted, she didn’t even notice Jasper sitting at the kitchen table. He was frowning, sweat dripping off of him. 

“Oh hello! How was work outside? Do you want a nibble of something or maybe some water-” 

“What did you do?” he cut her off. Anna froze. Suddenly, she remembered. Those wide windows of the manor looking into the gardens where Jasper worked, large enough to see the ongoings of Ravenswood’s study. Its not much of a little secret anymore. Damn. 

“Anna, what did you do?” 

[sweetfaerycherry]

Take 10 Minutes to Organize Your Work Environment

The first thing most people do when they're nearby their computer is turn it on and start their job or surf on internet. Occasionally we could get frustrated and irritated not due to the workload, but as a result of our work environment. If you do the majority of your work at home or at a workplace, than spending some time, even after reading this post, to wash your work environment can assist you with additional clarity before beginning working.

It is difficult for me to write when I have a cluttered work environment. My eyes don't glance at the monitor display for the whole time, so as I have a look around the area, I will become easily distracted by random items like notes, books, old newspapers, pictures, etc.. Some people perform better at a cluttered work environment because they feel like the accumulated mess that they've has developed over the weeks gives them a cozy"authors" environment. But if you are a man who finds it tough to focus, perhaps it is time to take the actions to clean up your place.

Even if you idle, here are a few suggestions to organizing your work environment.

1. Before you flip on the computer, check around the area. Is your place a wreck? Are there scattered newspapers everywhere? In that case, do not turn on the computer just yet. Proceed to the closest item and set it back to place. If you work on your room, this might be as straightforward as reserving an old book back on the bookshelf, placing a bit of old laundry off, or putting all of the scattered papers in 1 file on your desk drawer. Whatever it is, begin by doing something easy - just 1 thing and it'll inspire you to doing another product, then two more things, then before you know it, you will have a new new working environment with a good deal more free space.

2. Get work and turn on your computer

My perfect working environment would only be having the basic necessities like a computer, a desk, and a comfortable chair in a lighted, cool area and I am all set. Unfortunately, there's a good deal of furniture in my area I do not own so I am unable to begin moving it around the home based in my wanting to do so. So I try my best to make as much distance from the small space I must write.

And although 10 minutes might not look like a lot, it makes a difference once you really put the effort into tidying up your location. If you just rush through it, then you probably will spend less than 10 minutes doing this action. But in case you really take the time to clean up the facts, then you'll end up spending over 10 minutes, like an hour. The main thing is to not be worried about the time. 10 minutes was an estimated measurement of time to receive your place clean. Just worry about the job at hand. Organizing your work environment should not be that hard when you do one thing at a time.

To conclude, put the effort into organizing your work environment. Do it about once weekly. Even within a week, things gets piled up around us without us even noticing, and you will be surprised to learn that whenever you're able to make more space on your own, it seems as though your freeing up more space on your own. Things that you get diverted from will be out of the way and will no longer waste any more time as if you were to get distracted by them. However, more importantly, a clean, spacey work environment helps you clarity and focus. Now you simply need to think about organizing that background.

For more self-improvement tips visit SWEET FAERY CHERRY

The Environment - Helpful Ways to Keep It Clean

Most individuals don't mind about their environment. Well, in case you just knew how polluted environment can affect each and every human being, then you'll most likely take time to read this report. It provides some useful ways to keep the environment clean:

1. Avoid littering - One way to keep the environment clean is to prevent littering. So many men and women are just too insensitive and they don't care about their environment. Well, if they're tough to manage, the best thing to do would be to begin it with you. Be a role model. You should begin avoiding putting litters throughout the place. This is just a very simple act, but it could actually be an excellent help. However little the litters may be, it will still accumulate and wind up being polluted. Never forget to throw your trashes to its appropriate places not only for one day, for a single place, but all of the time, and all of the areas you'll ever be.

2. Recycle useful things - it's also best suggested that you learn how to recycle and reuse some helpful things. There are a lot of things which are thrown away without even considering its modifiability. You could always recycle boxes, bottles and cartons. These are the things which could be altered and can be helpful. You may use bottles as containers or as home decorations. You may also use the boxes to save some of your unused memorabilia. You can really do something from nothing. You can do great things from these trashes you've thrown. It does not just help you because of its uses, in addition, it benefits the whole human race because recycling really reduces pollution all throughout the environment.

3. Quit cigarette smoking - it's also imperative that you stop cigarette smoking. It doesn't just destroy the environment, but your health also. Cigarette smoke contains a lot of bad chemicals that aren't healthy to breathe in. It can't just affect you, but everybody else as well when they get to take in that terrible air.

Keeping the environment clean can be extremely tough to any individual, but it is hopeless. Try these helpful ways, and you'll absolutely attain the cleanest environment in the whole world.

[blinder-baker]

Carnations | I

Alfie Solomons x Reader

Synopsis - An anxious reader struggles at work

Warnings - Swearing, mild anxiety I guess

You had started writing as an escape. Scribbling into your book whenever things became overwhelming. Small little entries, long ranting speeches, or a list of words that just described the atmosphere. It was difficult to believe that it would clear your head, as your aunt had recommended. In fact, you had forgotten about her advice until she gifted you a notebook for your birthday. A pretty little thing. A black leatherbound book, with smooth pages and a fountain pen. You hated the idea of it going to waste, so you tried her idea. At first, you attempted writing one thing everyday, then it was just writing whenever you felt like it or there was a free moment. It became pretty clear to you that she was right as you filled up the book with ease. 

For your next birthday, she bought you another book, almost identical except that it was in a navy blue. Your cousin even bought you a fancy thesaurus, though you suspected that it was supposed to be a gag gift. You kept it on the bookshelf in your room and let it gather dust. 

Whilst you were aware of the importance of the book, you never shared it with anyone. Your family understood that it was private and you were sure that your friends hadn’t even picked up on it. But it was your safety net, you always slipped it into your bag when you left for work.

 You loved your job, you loved your boss actually. Which could never be a good thing. You worked at the “Aerated Bread Company” of Camden town. A bakery that made rum instead of bread. You didn’t work in the bakery, per say, you were a secretary for Mr Solomons - the boss. Who was the exact man you were sweet on. However, he hardly noticed you, he barely looked at you when he barked his orders. But Ollie, his assistant, was perfectly pleasant and you soon befriended him and his wife. 

The men toiled away as your heels clicked against the stone floor. The main room was a large hall, with a clear path down the middle to make for easy access to Mr Solomons office. It was an odd building. The majority of it underground, with a large staircase right at the front door. You had overheard people joke that it was like descending the stairway to hell. The entire building lacked windows and the small lights fitted into the ceiling were dim. But above the ground, was an actual bakery, albeit a small one. You estimated that it only made twenty loaves of bread a day and scarcely bothered to venture into anything else. There was no point, after all, everyone knew what this building really was - even the police. 

None of the men bothered to look up as you walked past them. They knew who you were. You did not have an office of your own, instead, you had a desk about a metre away from Mr Solomons’ door. Everyone had the opportunity to watch you work, but they seldom bothered, you never did anything interesting anyway. In a way, you were proud of your desk, you kept it neat and tidy. Your typewriter was in perfect condition. You had brought in your own candles, as the light never stretched to you, but you didn’t mind, candlelight made your desk look prettier. In order to make it look nice, you had once brought in a small vase that you filled with carnations. The flowers cleared the thick air, which you were grateful for. 

You often thought that your desk was exemplary, at least it was for you. It even had a view into Mr Solomon’s office door, though the glass pane was fogged and the blinds always closed during his meetings. You weren’t sure what drew you to him, he was a gruff man with a terrifying temper. But the way his hands gripped his cane, how he leaned back into his chair, his sharp wit, made him magnetic. A raw power not to be trifled with.

This is what you contemplated as you brushed the old petals onto the floor, the bunch was dying quicker than usual. 

“Mornin’ Y/N.” Ollie greeted, heading into the office. 

You beamed at him, flicking through the small pile of paperwork that had been set on your desk. Ollie was always running errands and rarely had time for the humdrum of paperwork. Which was precisely why you had been hired. You scooped the stack into your arms before heading to the records room. 

 The record room was another floor downstairs. Into the bowels of the building. You were sure it was the only room at this level. It lacked space and the more time spent down there, the more energy seemed to be sapped from your body. You clutched the quire of paper in one arm, allowing the other to grip the wooden banister. The lighting problem continued here as well, without a single bulb on the staircase and only one small lamp in the records room. Your fear of slipping and breaking your neck on these stairs was a completely rational one. Upon being certain that you had reached the end of the stairs, your hand groped at the wall to find the light switch. 

You sorted the files rapidly, keen to return upstairs, the room’s aura clinging onto you like a blackberry vine sticks to a cardigan. Jogging up the stairs left you out of breath and you could feel your heart beating in your blouse. Even the air of the workroom was a relief compared to the record room. However, any solace quickly dissipated when you found someone sitting at your desk. 

The man in your seat picked at your flowers with little care, discarding the colourful petals onto your typewriter. He looked bored as he ruined your pretty carnations and pried into your safe space. What right did he have?

“Excuse me, sir, can I help you?” You had meant to sound strong and professional, but it left your lips a timid squeak.

His sunken eyes looked up at you and his tongue darted across his lips. He pushed himself up from the dishevelled desk and walked into the light. You did not recognise the man. He was tall, and slender with a graceful air about him. 

“I’m sure you can, sweetheart,” He was quick to cross the room, eager to stand in front of you. He towered over you, his breath hitting your forehead. 

“Ain’t you all gussied up, looking like a dream in heels,” He remarked, his hand going to touch the collar of your blouse. 

You shuffled backwards until you felt the wall against your back, the corner of the staircase digging into your spine. He pushed further, making your retreat futile. 

“Careful there, it’d be a shame for you to fall,” His eyes held a certain malice with what surely was a threat. 

Was no one else seeing this? Did they simply not care?

“If you’re looking for Mr Solomons, he’s probably in his office,” You tried to diffuse the situation. This couldn’t be your fault, you had done nothing but your job and yet here you were, cowering helplessly. 

His lips parted slightly as he placed one hand on the wall beside your head, he found this funny. The only way to escape was to duck to the right, but risk falling down the stairs. Into the tenebrosity of the records room. He knew this. He did it on purpose. 

Your eyes scanned the rest of the room, finding Ollie striding down towards you, he saw the alarm in your eyes. 

“Mr Hayes? Alfie is ready for you,” Ollie tells him urgently. 

Mr Hayes backed away from you, his eyes lingering on your shaking form. He smiled smugly, before turning on his heel and going into the office. 

You wrung your hands as you stepped away from the staircase. Immediately, you began to restore your desk, avoiding Ollie’s worried gaze. You plucked petals from the keys of your typewriter and took the devastated flowers out of their vase.

“I don’t know why anyone would…” You sniffled, unable to finish your sentence. Small things found it easy to disrupt the balance of peace. Ollie took the flowers from your hands, 

“Why don’t you take a break, there isn’t a lot to do right now anyway,” He suggested quietly, as if telling a child they were in time-out until they had their head on straight. But he was only being nice. 

You nodded at him, allowing him to leave and continue his work. You took some time for a couple deep breaths before pulling out your notebook. This was the perfect time to pen something new.  After some deliberation, your mind struggled to find anything you thought worthy. But you hated leaving a fresh page empty. You didn’t need to write about this, you could write about something else. Anything else. He did not deserve a page in your notebook, he found power in fear, like a coward. But you found yourself so easily overwhelmed, you were a gentle person. Peaceful - and that’s how you wanted your life to be. But in a simple moment, things came crashing down, they filled your senses and ached your soul. Maybe any other girl would have not cared, or pushed him away. But you weren’t a fighter, you didn’t have the confidence to bear the consequences.

Some people are just born to fight.

It’s not that they’re born brave. It’s not that they’re born strong. It’s just that the universe has decided that this one, this one will have grit and fire and steel in their blood. And it’ll be tested, this cosmic mettle of theirs. It’s what they know. 

But some aren’t fighters.

They search for serenity and quiet, in small things like gossamer and silk. In paper and cotton. They’ll still face trial after trial, be damaged in countless ways. They can’t fight back, but that isn’t their fault, far from it. They’d rather find their peace another way. 

I’d rather find my peace another way.  

You read it over, and over. Before slamming the book shut and tossing it haphazardly onto your desk. What utter tosh, you thought. The page deserved to be ripped out and burnt. You brushed the hair out of your eyes and sighed. It was still morning, there were hours ahead of you. No one had ever wished for their bed more. You contemplated how long the meeting had been going on for. To be honest, you had no clue, an indication that you should invest in a wristwatch. 

When Mr Hayes exited the office, you slumped into your chair. Not looking at him. You didn’t want to see him, never again. Instead, you stared at his shoes. He walked with arrogance, like he had won a bar fight. No one ever left Mr Solomon’s office with pride, he had a knack of conning them out of their profits. But not Mr Hayes, it would seem, though he might have been putting up a front. Unwilling to let everyone know he lost. 

As soon as he ascended up the stairs and out of the building, Ollie scurried into the office. You watched carefully, he pressed himself against the door, as if he was blocking Mr Solomons’ view to the workroom. 

He was not in there long, however, as Mr Solomons barged past him. A fire burning in his eyes. He walked towards your desk with his infamous stagger, trailing his cane alongside his feet. You sat up straight, gripping the arms of your chair, anxious of what he was angered about.

“Just sit tight for me, petal, right there,” His voice is mellow and doesn’t fit the tone of anger in his eyes. He ventured further into the workroom, surveying the men. They all kept themselves busy, minding their own business. They, too, could sense his rage.

He rapped his cane against the side of a barrel and all the men looked up at him. Mr Solomons rubbed his beard with his tattooed hands, he faced away from you. But you watched intently at the faces of the men. Expressions of mixed anticipation and horror. 

“So, when a man comes in here, starts fuckin’ vandalizing shit. You all jus’ stand there?” 

He spat slowly, allowing every word to sink in.

“And when, said man, traps a fellow member of staff, against the fuckin’ wall, YOU JUST FUCKIN’ WATCH, DO YA?” 

Spittle flew from his lips and he bellowed out into the room. 

For once, you didn’t feel anxious or overwhelmed, Mr Solomons’ shouting never bothered you because whenever he screamed at his employees he was trying to regain control. Control was important, it was steady. You were too absorbed in staring at him to take in the rest of his speech, but you were well aware when it was over.

“In my office, petal,” He commanded, with no animosity. You were not sure when he had started calling you petal. It felt right, it felt warm. You followed him with no hesitation. Your boss gestured for you to have a seat, yet again you did as he obeyed. 

“Whiskey?” He offered, pulling open the drawer to his desk,

“Oh, no thank you, Mr Solomons,”  

It was hardly lunchtime, you would hate to jeopardize your work by getting woozy on his drinks.

“It’s Alfie, petal, jus’ Alfie,” 

You smiled politely at him and averted your eyes from his gaze.

[franklongbooty]

hi harriet again I swear this is it

hi hi here is my boy frank, his about is long, connections down the bottom!!

Statistics Page

Pinterest character basics

full name: Frank Joseph Longbottom

birth date: June 21st, 1957 (He’s a Gemini/Cancer cusp lmao)

blood status: Pureblood

3 key positive traits: Sincere, sentimental, attentive 

3 key negative traits: , impulsive, critical, single-minded

FC choice (2 or more, please!):  Matthew Daddy-ario 

academics

primary wizarding school & graduation year: London School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 1975

degree & cohort: Auror Academy 

house & year: Gryffindor, 1st Year Masters Student

rooming

Frank was very excited when the flat above Honeydukes Sweetshop suddenly became vacant at the start of this third year. He has a notorious sweet tooth (brought on by his mother not wanting them in the house when he was young), and went there enough during exam periods (and the rest of the year, let's be honest) that he knew the owners by name, and so they gave him a great offer on the place, despite being able to afford whatever rent he would’ve needed to pay without any discounts. He makes up for their generosity by buying way more sweets than he could ever get through. So come to his flat? You’ll be sure to have been offered pretty much anything that’s available in the shop below.

The space is quite big, due to the size of the shop below, but I picture it to be super airy and quite open plan (ie the only door is to the bathroom, everything else is arches and half walls, high ceilings). He’s not big on decorating, and he’s got his neatness that his mother has instilled in him from a young age, but he does have a wall completely covered in book shelves, and his dad's favourite armchair in one corner.

extracurricular activities

Former Head Boy, former member of the duelling club, former captain of the Wizards Chess Club, Warlocks of Great Britain 

all about your kiddo

Frank Joseph Longbottom was raised by a stern mother, and a loving father. A mother who had a place for everything, and a father who always seemed to forget where those places were. A mother who spent hours of each day making sure the house was perfect, and a father who would come home and forget to hang his coat up after a long day at the Department of Mysteries. A mother who couldn’t help but smile anyway when her husband cracked his jokes, forgetting the mess for a moment, and a father who tried his best to remember to wipe his shoes before stepping into the house. A mother who, when her husband didn’t come home, only got worse, and a father who was never seen again. Frank was only eight  years old when Joseph Longbottom disappeared. The day had started like any other, with a kiss to Augusta’s cheek and a ruffle of Frank’s hair. He’d left the house whistling his favourite tune, and that was the last anyone saw of him. He never showed up at work, and by the end of the day Auror’s were swarming the Longbottom house, looking for anything that could be amiss. The disappearance of his father has played on Franks mind ever since that day. What started as a child not quite understanding, turned into a burning desire to find out what happened. That burning desire is what first led Frank to consider the Auror Program at Hogwarts. Now through to the Auror Academy, Frank finally has the resources to start looking into his father’s case. He knew he had to be discreet. Until he knew what had actually happened - whether he had been taken, or, possibly worse, simply left them, Frank knew it was important to lay low and do this slowly, if he wanted any chance of finding answers. 

Without his father there to help, Augusta Longbottom’s perfections slowly turned into obsessions. Although they had a house elf, she spent much of her time reorganising the house, re-stacking bookshelves over and over again until they were exactly how she wanted it, and then once more for good measure. As Frank grew, her need for perfection turned on him. His clothes were always perfectly pressed, his bed had to be perfectly made every morning before his classes, and his hair was always cut to the same length without fail. But he took this in his stride. As a child, Frank had always strived for greatness, wanting to be the best out of all his peers. It started as a need to be able to run the fastest when playing with his friends and to read the longest books during primary, eventuating in the role of Head Boy in his final year at Hogwarts. This grew a deep confidence within himself, but it also caused him to be hypercritical of all the small things that he couldn’t control. And although his hair is now a little longer, he still has to make sure his quill and ink pot are perfectly straight on his desk, his parchment smooth, and his bed made every morning before he goes to class. 

Where his mother had instilled the hard side to Frank, the time he did have with his father nourished a soft side within him that continued to grow as Frank got older. A side that made bad jokes, that was sentimental, that loved sweet things, and that fiercely cared for those close to him. Perhaps contradictory, the confidence that grew from his mother pushing him only fueled his desire to help others in the only way he knew how. The growing war did nothing to quell Franks need to excel in the Academy. His strong convictions and the anger that was bubbling within him at the injustice of it all made him want to do something. Whispers around the castle and a cryptic conversation with Dumbledore has led Frank to believe something bigger is coming -- something to help put a stop to the war that is beginning to bubble around them. With half of him feeling a pull to follow Dumbledore into that unknown, and the other half increasingly focused on trying to find out what happened to his father, Frank is finding himself at a crossroads. 

The unexpected always threw Frank. Something about Alice Shafiq was completely unexpected, but it was an unexpectedness he welcomed with open arms as soon as he saw the way she smiled. She made him feel at ease, and as the years went on and friendly study sessions turned into stolen kisses, it was easy to understand why. The touch of her hand on his arm always helped ease him, and he suddenly didn’t mind spending his nights awake, as long as they were with her. Ask him, and Frank would tell you she’s a good friend. But ask anyone else, and they’d probably disagree. 

extra credit

Frank feels all his emotions with fierceness and certainty. If he disagrees with something his blood will boil and he won’t sit quietly - he’s got them strong convictions. Similar so, when something makes him happy it’ll be impossible for anyone not to notice. Think loud exclamations, lots of opinions, stubbornly standing up for whatever it is he is currently fighting for. He’s also quite impulsive, and these go hand in hand. He believes in his emotions to the fullest (maybe to the extent he acts like a bit of a know-it-all at times). Also has a bit of a saviour complex tbh, and doesn’t like asking for help. He can do it himself, thank you very much !!!

Frank has the fashion sense of a Grandpa. He loves his funky socks, and they’re all perfectly matching and rolled up (he has a whole drawer of them). He loves baggy jumpers over blue denim jeans (thanks 70’s). He loves his funky socks perfectly matching his baggy jumpers. He also wears glasses, but! They’re reading glasses, so during class/study only 

His patronus is a buzzard

Armortentia is oatmeal cookies, burning fireplace, lavender

Wand is Rowan, unicorn hair, 13 inches, rigid

Likes: funky socks, sweets, oatmeal cookies, mustard, earl grey tea, elaborate chocolates, muggle movies, the smell of lavender, bad jokes, satchels, his owl Whetherby 

Dislikes: quidditch (but no one knows this), ketchup, coffee (see elaborate hot chocolates), messiness, laziness, messiness caused by laziness, unpredictable change

Whilst Frank is nowhere near as bad as his mother, he’s definitely inherited some ticks. He keeps his sock drawer perfectly tidy. If he’s sitting, he bounces his leg whenever he’s anxious, or stressed, or worried; if he’s standing, he paces like a madman. Someone get a fitbit on this boy. He always feels like he needs to be in control, which leads him to be critical of things when it means he’s not going to be in control of them. And critical of himself when he lets things get out of his control. 

Possible connections

A good friend he’s had since childhood - maybe a family friend, maybe a neighbour, someone who was there through it all, his #rideordie. This person helps Frank fkn chill out

An ex-girlfriend, or fling, who ended up dumping him for being weirdly close with Alice, despite his insistence that they’re just friends

Fam bam  - some cousins would be lit

Frank is a competitive boy, something that comes from needing the be the best of the best, so someone who is his competitive rival would be fun!!

And also the good old enemies! Frank doesn’t think his fathers disappearance was a coincidence, and now all these things with Voldemort have come up he’s extremely suspicious of people

[hearts-hunger]

All the Bells and Whistles, part two || Charlie Nelson x Reader

Read Part 1!

Summary: You want to surprise Charlie at work with a gift for Valentine’s Day and decide to bring him his favorite flowers.

Pairings: Charlie Nelson x wife!reader // Midsomer Murders fandom

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: None!

A/N: Me, writing more than one fic in a day? Can you believe it? (If my muse cooperates, I might just do a third part with some Valentine’s Day smut...hmm 😏). Enjoy, my loves! ♡

Coast is clear! Operation valentine is a go!

You smiled to yourself as you read Kate’s text, thankful that you had a friend so willing to help you orchestrate a Valentine’s Day surprise for your husband. You’d asked her to let you know when Charlie left the station to do some work on a case; you wanted to decorate his desk with all sorts of Valentine’s Day cuteness to surprise him when he got back. He’d already given you your Valentine’s present early that morning with breakfast and decorations all over your kitchen table, and you’d spent the morning after he’d left for work thinking of how to give him a sweet gift in return.

“Y/N!”

You looked up to see Kate coming through the front doors of the station, her blonde hair falling over the shoulders of her blue scrubs.

“Thanks for helping me,” you said as she came over to where you stood, leaned against your car door.

She grinned. “Of course! I fully support cute Valentine’s surprises. What have you got planned?”

You put your phone in your back pocket and popped the trunk, revealing the dozens of sunflowers and grocery bags full of yellow treats you’d picked up on the way here.

“I was thinking of a sunshine theme,” you explained. “Like, ‘you are my sunshine’, that sort of thing, since sunflowers are Charlie’s favorite.”

Kate clasped her hands at her chest. “That’s adorable!” she gushed. “I love it. Come on, let’s get this stuff in.”

You both grabbed bags and bouquets, bringing them inside the station and making your way towards the Criminal Investigation offices. People smiled at you ask you walked by; you heard someone say “Isn’t DS Nelson the lucky one?” and laughed.

“This is the most exciting thing to happen here in ages,” Kate told you. “Everyone’s been waiting for Charlie to leave so you could come in.”

“It’s nothing compared to what Charlie did this morning,” you said, smiling with the memory. You set your gifts down on Charlie’s desk, noticing that it wasn’t as tidy as you would have expected from your neat-freak of a husband. You wondered if he’d had to leave in a hurry.

“This isn’t going to stress him out, is it?” you asked, suddenly worried that it might. “I mean, if he’s got a lot going on with the case, maybe he doesn’t want this kind of thing at work. Maybe this is a bad idea.”

“No, of course it’s not!” Kate assured you. “I mean, it’s a murder, obviously, so it’s not a walk in the park, but that’s exactly why he’ll love this so much. It’ll be a lovely surprise for him, to be reminded in the middle of all that sadness that he’s loved and got you to come home to.”

You smiled. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Kate said smartly. “Here, let’s tidy this stuff up so we can make it cute.”

You helped her stack the papers and files together, careful not to jumble it all up, and put it in a neat pile on the corner of his desk. You started unpacking the treats you’d gotten - all yellow things that Charlie loved, like Crunchie bars, Jelly Babies, Fentimans lemonade, and plenty of other British snacks that he’d grown up with and you hadn’t yet tried. The main attraction was a tin of freshly-baked lemon bars that you’d made after he left for work. Kate helped you set everything up and make it cute.

“Oh, hold on,” she said. “I’ve got just the thing for the flowers.”

She popped into her office and returned with two large beakers. “They double as vases in a pinch, I’ve found,” she joked.

“They’re perfect,” you said, putting the sunflower-filled beakers on either side of the stack of treats. The finishing touch was a card you’d made out of pretty yellow scrapbook paper, you are my sunshine, ds nelson! written on the front.

“What’s all this?”

You straightened and spun around, feeling like a kid caught with your hand in the cookie jar at his voice. Charlie stood in the doorway of the office, a delighted smile on his face.

“We thought you were gone to look for clues,” you said.

He laughed. “I was, but I realized I’d forgotten one of the files halfway there and had to come back for it.” He came over to you. “I’m glad I did.”

You blushed. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” you explained.

“Well, mine was supposed to be a surprise too,” he teased. “But apparently we’re not very good at giving each other surprise gifts.”

You smiled up at him. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

He tipped your chin up so he could kiss you. “I don’t mind either, sweetheart.”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

His adoring smile was answer enough. “I love it. Sunflowers for Valentine’s, it’s very original.”

“Well, they are your favorite.”

“I know,” he said sweetly. “I love them.”

“It’s not too much?” you pressed. “It’s not, like, overwhelming to come back to the office and have a bunch of flowers on your desk?”

“It’s perfect,” he assured you gently. “I can’t imagine anything better. I might keep it like this all the time.”

“You better,” you teased. “It took Kate and me a whole ten minutes to get it set up.”

“The beakers are a nice touch.”

You laughed. “I’m glad you like it. It’s not as good as yours this morning, but I did try. I even baked you lemon bars.”

“Did you really?” he asked excitedly. He took one from the tin and took a bite of it. “Mmh. You’ve outdone yourself, my love. Is that lavender in there?”

“I did add a little bit,” you said. “Is it good?”

“Best I’ve had,” he said confidently.

“I asked to get off work early tonight,” he told you, finishing off the lemon bar. A bit of powdered sugar dusted his lips; you licked the pad of your thumb and reached up on tiptoe to run it over his bottom lip.

“Thanks,” he said.

You smiled. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Is John going to let you off early?”

He looked a little guilty. “Well, he said I could, but I know that one of us needs to be here to close up shop, in case anything happens with the case. I backtracked and said he should get off early to be with Sarah and Betty. Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” you assured him. “That was sweet of you. He should go home and have a free evening with them.”

“I thought so too,” he said. “But I didn’t know if you had plans - I remember you asked me if I could try and get off early.”

“Don’t fret, my pet,” you said sweetly, patting his cheek. “There’s a few things, hm, wide open after hours that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

His eyes widened at the thought of the late night activities you had planned; you saw you’d made him blush and you couldn’t help but laugh at how cute he was.

“D’you know you’ve just made it a million times harder to stay later tonight?” he said.

You smirked. “That was the idea, honey.”

“You’re absolutely mad, woman,” he said affectionately. “I’m so glad I married you.”

You kissed him, tasting sugar and lemon on his lips. “I’m glad I married you too.”

He sighed when you pulled back. “I’m afraid I have to get going, though,” he said. He thumbed through the stack of files until he found the one he wanted. “Duty calls, you know.”

“A Detective Sergeant’s work is never done, hm?”

He smiled. “Something like that. Thanks for the flowers, my love.”

“Anytime,” you said with a smile of your own. “Good luck with your sleuthing.”

He laughed. “Thanks. I’ll call when I’m on my way home, okay?”

“Try not to get too distracted thinking about tonight,” you teased.

He winked. “Not making any promises, sweetheart.” He pocketed the bag of Jelly Babies and kissed your cheek. “Love you.”

You smiled. “Love you too, detective.”

Read part 3!

[hillywooddestiel]

Stranger Things Have Happened: Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Where, Oh Where, Is Will?

Characters: Y/N Winchester, Nancy, Barb, Steve (mentioned), Sam, Dean, Cas (mentioned), Dustin, Lucas, Will (mentioned)

Warnings: A bit if angst, usual crossover crack

Word count: 1.7k

Series description: Hawkins, Indiana, November 1983. The Winchesters got out of hunting and decided to settle down in a small town. The youngest of the three, Y/N, just wants to get on with her somewhat normal life and go to a good college. But that's a little tricky when disappearances start occurring, including her friend Barbara Holland, and there's reports of a mysterious new girl in town. Can she balance boyfriends, teen drama and monster hunting?

A/N: This series is so much fun! And it's finally getting into the good stuff. The tag list is still wide open so if you'd like to be tagged all you need too do is ask. And all feedback is greatly appreciated xx Masterlist  Series Masterlist

Part 1

Story:

7th November 1983, Hawkins, Indiana...

Upon pulling into my usual parking space, I catch a glimpse of Barb hurrying through the school doors, arms laden with textbooks. She's too far ahead for me to shout for her so I gather my belongings from the passenger seat as quickly as I can and speed walk towards the school. Many groups of kids huddled together in tight clusters line the corridor leaving the path to the lockers relatively clear. Nancy is busy rummaging in her pile of books while Barb is leaning casually with get back resting on the lockers, a smile spread wide in her face.

"What did I miss?" I ask bemused.

"Oh, nothing. Just Nancy having some trouble keeping her lips off of Steve."

"Hey! We just made out a couple of times..." A blush creeps up Nance's cheeks as she looks down to the floor embarrassed.

"We just... Made out a couple of times..." Barb mimics with added flair sending us all into fits of giggles. I pause for a moment when I spot the slip of paper on top of the chemistry textbook in Nancy's locker.

"Hey Nance, what's that?" I nod my head in the direction of the note. Doing a terrible job at pretending to have not seen the note before, Nancy unfolds it to reveal a lovingly scrawled note from none other than Steve Harrington:

'MEET ME. BATHROOM- STEVE'

Barb and I share an amused look, very much aware of Nance rolling her eyes at us before she closes her locker and heads in the direction of the meeting place. Once she's out of sight I turn to Barb.

"Well I don't know about you but, I'm not gonna be late like she is. See you after math."

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask, did you two have power surges at your places last night?" I glance to both Nancy and Barb as I slide into my seat. My knife and fork clatter on the tray as I drop them onto the table.

"Yeah! I thought it was just because my dad was messing with the TV." Nancy swallows her mouthful of meatballs to answer me. Next to her, Barb is nodding in agreement. A small wave of relief washes over me from their confirmation; last night was a bit crazy.

"So if you get down there early, Laney promised to save you a slice this time. Although I don't see what the fuss is about, it's just pie." I land on the sofa unceremoniously, eyes fixed on the weather report.

"Just pie?!" Dean practically screeches, rushing into the room with a can of beer in hand.

"Here we go..." Sam mutters under his breath from the dining table, not breaking from his stacks of paperwork.

"Just pie?!" Dean repeats, possibly even higher pitched, "Oh Y/N, it's more than just pie. It's an explosion of sweet pastry and tangy fruit in your mouth. It's the perfect measure of cinnamon, sugar and apples. It's the warm filling mixing with the chilled cream. It's heaven on a plate Y/N. It's not 'just pie'." I just blink at Dean while he's lost in his own dreamland, a serene look on his face.

"Whatever! Just get to the diner earlier tomorrow."

Looking truly offended by my words, Dean goes to start another speech about dessert but he's stopped in his tracks by the sudden brightening of all the lights. The lamps, the overhead lights, even the TV screen. They all grow and grow in intensity, so much so that we have to cover our eyes to avoid being blinded. A sudden moment of darkness. When I open my eyes again, everything looks normal. All the lights are at their normal brightness level. But the three of us know better than to relax.

Immediately we all on our feet and rummaging in the kitchen cupboards for salt shakers. Sam and Dean retrieve their guns from their hiding places while I arm myself with an iron poker from the fireplace; since I'm the youngest, it's been decided (not by me) that I'm not allowed my own gun. We back up together to form a triangle so we're covered on all sides.

"You two see anything?" Dean barks over his shoulder.

"Clear!" Sam shouts back.

"Clear! What if it wasn't a ghost?"

"If it's a demon, it'll get stuck in one of the traps Y/N."

"I know that Dean, I'm not stupid. I mean what if it was nothing. Just a power surge."

"Maybe. But I'm not taking that risk." Dean breaks the formation to turn to us two younger siblings, "Sam, you cover the bathroom and the kitchen. Y/N, you come with me and cover the bedrooms."

"Hey! You don't need to watch over me, I'm not a kid. I can do the living room." I hold up my salt shaker to shake it encouragingly.

"No! You are a kid and your coming with me so I can watch over you."

"But-" I start to argue back but Sam's pleading face stops me. "Urgh fine!"

"Y/N!"

"Hmmf?" I break from my thoughts, turning to Nancy with a blank face.

"We lost you for a minute there. What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing. Just homework and stuff. What were you talking about?" I shake all thoughts of hunting from my mind.

"I was saying that I heard that there's going to be a question on catalysts on the chem test and that it's going to be a lot of mark points." Barb leans in as though she's revealing state secrets.

"So?" Nancy tilts her head, eyebrows knitted together in a confused frown. Barb rolls her eyes.

"So I haven't done any revision on catalysts yet and the test is tomorrow!" She leans back in her chair, one hand rubbing her temple.

"Geez Barb! You've been revising for months. You're not gonna fail this test." I slam my hand down on the desk, perhaps a little too hard, and keep my voice stern. I instantly recoil, scared by how much like Dad I sound. Nothing I said was mean but I made a promise to myself to never ever be like him. Not to anyone.

"She's right Barb. You're the smartest in the class." Nancy encourages, unfazed by my slight outburst.

"I'm not the smartest. I'll just make some more flash cards tonight." Barb dejects, prodding at her food with her fork. We all finish our lunches with limited talking.

3 o' clock rolls around slowly but I'm just glad that the day is finally over. Absentmindedly, I spin my keys around my finger while making a beeline for my car. But, something catches my eye. With pad and pen in hand, two of the local police are stood near the entrance of school, stopping passers by to presumably ask questions. What would the police want with school kids?

In the distance, I spot Dustin and Lucas waking away from the officers.

"Dustin! Lucas! Wait up!" They glance at eachother while I run to catch up, a small smile on their lips.

"Oh! H-hey Y/N how's it... How's it going?" Dustin clearly fails at trying to act casual.

"Hey. What's goin' on? Why are the police here?"

"Uh... It's Will. He's gone missing." Lucas explains, making my heart pick up in my chest. No! This can't happen. Not round here. We're supposed to be safe.

"That's awful. When did he go missing?" I ask a little too eagerly.

"He never came home last night." Dustin tells me with a twinge of guilt.

"Oh God! I- I hope they find him soon."

"Yeah we all do. Well, we should go..." Lucas points over his shoulder.

"Right, yeah, of course. Stay safe you guys."

"Hey! I'm home." I yell into the house, kicking my shoes off and leaving them by the door in a pile with my bag- if Dean wants a tidy house he can tidy it himself. "Hello?" I shout again after getting no reply.

"Kitchen!" Both of my brothers yell in unison. I enter the kitchen to find them both sat at the dining table, the radio playing the local news.

'...Local boy, William Byers, had been reported missing as of last night. His family say that he never came home last night after visiting a friend's house. Police are not yet treating this disappearance as suspicious. If you see William Byers, please call...'

"See Sam, I told you it's not our kind of thing. Let's just stay out of it." Dean lets out a breath, getting up to grab a beer from the fridge. "We've stayed hidden for this long, let's not go ruin that."

"But we can't just do nothing Dean! We should at least do some digging and make sure it's not our kind of case." Sam protests, also getting up from his chair.

"Yeah. The police came to school today asking about it. We should at least try. I would hate to sit and do nothing when we could be out there saving Will. The family business and all." I join in, folding my arms across my chest. Images flash through my mind of Will getting taken by demons, tied up by ghouls and killed by ghosts. I shake my head to try and stop them from running on their nightmare loop.

"No! We've put our lives in the line too many times. If we start hunting again, we'd only be putting ourselves and everyone in this town in danger. I made a promise to keep you both safe and I intend to keep it." With a huff, Dean leaves the kitchen and heads up to his room, two more beers in his arm.

"I hate to admit it but he's got a point." Sam breaks the thick silence.

"What? How can you just agree with him on this? A kid is missing-"

"But he promised Cas, Y/N. If we started hunting again, Cas will have died for nothing. I know this feels wrong but, we can't. We just can't." Sam places one reassuring hand on my shoulder before heading upstairs himself.

Being brought up as a hunter, I was always taught to follow my instincts, trust my gut. And Dean just wants me to forget all of that? I can't! I can't forget years of being moulded into a soldier. Not when my instincts are screaming at me.

Everything tags:

@falloutofmymemez

STHH tags:

@marslovesme @bluedefundead @elenavaldez02

Published by @hillywooddestiel

[wheaterz]

Little Talks

>Are you awake?

Mel heard the faint ‘blip’ of her laptop from across the dim room. It was late, raining, and cool with the wind making the house around her creak. She sat curled up in a plush quilt on an old couch with a glass of bourbon to her lips. It had been a lonely night, so she was happy to hear the message from her computer. Her roommate was out on a job and she wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. With one last glance at the water pouring from the sky outside her patio door, which she’d purposely left open a crack for the fresh air, Mel brought herself to her feet and made her way over to her desk. She could feel the cold floor underneath her socks, but she wouldn’t be long. She had every intention of bringing the laptop back with her over to the couch.

On the screen of her laptop was a small, blue square in the corner with a history of texts on it from her previous conversations with the other side. It was all very plain, but it was the simplicity that helped. Not only was it a concept she well grasped as far as software programs were concerned, but it read Aperture loud and clear with hardly any delay. With the laptop rested on the arm of the couch, she typed back.

- I’m here.

>That was a test, go to sleep.

- No.

>That was the real test, you passed.

-I’m afraid you’ve lost me, dear.

>I want to talk and I know you can just sleep in tomorrow.

Well, that was a fairly blunt way of putting it. Mel sighed, remembering that she hadn’t yet discovered a job within her new-found community, and it was becoming a little frustrating. Most things that had to do with computers she was bad at, and this new world was heavily reliant on it. Now, she was a fast learner, but when the cash register has ten-millions different options on its touch screen to go through things became a little muddled. Press AE and it will take you to the discount screen, only some discounts were only available for short times, so one would be replaced with another… Oh, did you make so many mistakes that the register locked you out? Please ask your manager for assistance.

Even with how minimalistic their town was in the sad state the world was in, cashiering somehow survived the apocalypse.

It was all very degrading. She was an Olympic Champion of her day, for crying out loud.

>You’re upset. Was it something I said?

Mel blinked, realizing she’d taken a while to respond when she was lost in thought and bit her lip.

-No, it wasn’t you. Don’t worry about it. The storm is just keeping me up.

>Okay.

>Want to talk about it?

Virgil really wasn’t the type of person for taking a hint. You really had to drill most points into him, but maybe for once she was glad for this. Giving in, her shoulders relaxed and she began typing.

-Adjusting has been difficult. I knew it would be, but I suppose no matter how prepared I was I couldn’t have foreseen the way I feel right now. Which is to say… useless. I think I finally have a full understanding of why you didn’t want to leave.

>Took you long enough.

-Be nice.

>Look, you are far from useless and you know it. I’m not going to take you wallowing in a self-pity-party sitting down.

-Excuse you, Mister, I absolutely am not wallowing in pity.

-Ah yeah? What were you doing before I logged on?

-Sitting.

>And?

-Drinking.

-Tea.

-Drinking hot tea.

>Gotcha.

Virgil absolutely infuriated Mel sometimes, but maybe that was because she knew he was right. Curling further under her quilt of warmth she glanced around the room she’d made her home and how she’d neglected to tidy up the place for a bit. It was strange how even though she was bored out of her mind and had all the time in the world, even the smallest thing seemed to be an uphill climb. Granted, she was much happier out here than she would have been stuck down in Aperture, and she was even more grateful for not just being plain dead, but it would be nice if things went a little smoother than they were now.

>Lets change the subject then.

Thank goodness for small blessings… and apparently Virgil’s newly formed telepathy.

>Things have been a little less quiet recently.

-Anything I should be concerned about?

>No, not at all. One of the other cores has pitched that we have holidays. We’re all supposed to send in ideas of what kind of holiday we’d want, since human holidays are kind of meaningless down here. Apparently we’ve reached the brim of boredom for this to be a thing now.

-Well that sounds like a bang up time, don’t you think?

>Not really? That means fun, right? Anyway, I’m not casting any votes in but I did make the mistake of offering to manage them, so now I have a whole file on my computer of different ideas that were sent my way.

-What do they say then?

>Laundry Day.

-You are the only core that has clothes. How can there be a laundry day?

>In definition, they suggested Laundry Day be when we burn a pile of leftover test subject jumpsuits for giggles.

-Ah. Oodles of fun.

>Yeah, oodles. There’s also Sleepmode Day, Rail Day, Turret Concert Day, Hide-and-Seek Day…

-There’s a Hide-and-Seek day?

>That’s actually a pretty common game down here. It takes weeks.

-That’s cute.

>My favorite of these, so far, is Explosion Day.

-Rick?

>Rick.

-Any other news?

>Um…

>Got my core shell solar power enhancements, so that’s nice.

-Very fancy. Do you still plan on returning to it?

>Honestly, not sure, but fixing all the things I disliked about myself has been a nice pastime, albeit a strange one.

-How so?

>Imagine doing open surgery on yourself.

-Oh, well, that is strange when you put it that way.

>Only an itty, bitty bit. I’ve been through stranger, no thanks to you.

-I’m honored you think so highly of me.

>I actually can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not.

Melanie grinned, despite herself. It was strange how a little robot miles upon miles away from her could still manage to make her smile. She was glad for the conversation, and it put her more at ease than she had been a little while prior to their window chat, and the bourbon was finally setting in. Mel put a hand to her mouth and yawned.

-I feel ready to attempt sleeping again. It was lovely of you to keep me company, Virgil.

>Hey, Mel. Hold up a moment.

Normally when she said she was ready to fall asleep he was quick to let her go, so to be stopped so suddenly was abnormal. Of course she wasn’t going to turn him down, even if she was inches from slumber.

-Yes?

>Even if you don’t find anything right away you deserve some time to yourself. More than anyone. Give yourself a breather. I find it hard to believe that you survived as much as you have and there isn’t a place for you up there somewhere waiting. Just… take your time. Don’t stress it. It’ll come up eventually.

-You sound so sure.

>Really, any other way of looking at it is ridiculous. I don’t know what mighty cosmic-whatever you got on the good side of, but it would be stupid to think that you managed to make it through decades worth of croysleep and several killer robots and they just decided you aren’t going to have it made up there.

-I was in a barn for six months the last time I got out.

>We’ll just add that stupid barn to the list of things you’ve stomped into the dust.

>Not literally, obviously. Barns are kind of big.

>Obviously.

>Keep at it, okay?

-I will. Thank you.

>Do you think the storm is going to still keep you up?

-I’m not entirely sure.

>Hold on, I got something for you then.

Virgil disappeared for a couple of minutes, but the next message that arrived wasn’t text at all, but a tiny white square with a music note on it.

>Try that out. Just click on it.

Once Mel had clicked on the file another window opened that played for her a sweet little melody, though an electronic one. It sounded like one of the songs the turrets would sing in the depths of Aperture, and streams of rainbow light bobbed in time with the music in the open window. This may just do it if she kept the volume down enough, and she typed to her friend one last time.

-Its absolutely perfect. Goodnight, Virgil.

>Goodnight, Mel.

She slowly placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of the couch where she’d also lay her drink glass. It was one of the last remaining lights in the main living space, aside from a nightlight plugged into the kitchen wall in the shape of a lily and the dim glow of the moon fighting through the rainclouds outside in spotted streams of silver. Mel thought about heading up to her room, but she was comfortable here. Even with the door still slightly ajar and the sideways rain dampening the floor, Mel curled up against the arm of the couch with a cushion under her head. She could try to find her place in this world again tomorrow, or she could wait.

Even with the accomplishments Mel made in the past that she could share with no one but her one friend on the other side of her computer screen, she could still take something from them. She’d done great things, and she would continue to do great things. Maybe just not now.