#sorry this was so late ksjhfdjks

[bizarrelittlemew]

ooooo I love this game, for the fic titles, "eat, pray, larceny"

modern au: Ed is a traveling food critic and one of the most highly regarded, but originally, he only became one to have a cover for traveling around the world and carrying out heists, usually of expensive art pieces. he has grown weary of both and is considering retirement when one night, he is suddenly faced with a competing robber going after the same piece, and who tricks his right-hand man Izzy and gets away with the prize (but not before Ed manages to unmask him and get a look at his very distinct face and golden hair).

the very next day, Ed is supposed to sample a new restaurant in the area - Dutch-Caribbean fusion - while still fuming about the fiasco the night before, but he is taken aback by how much he enjoys the unusual dishes and eccentric surroundings, so much that he forgets to grumble about the other robber (and his stupid beautiful hair and dumb cute dimple and broad build that Ed definitely doesn't want to climb like a sexy sturdy tree). that is until he wants to give his compliments to the chef by the end of the meal, and it turns out he is none other than Ed's golden-haired rival.

much to Izzy's chagrin, Ed and Stede team up for Ed's final heist, and the reason Stede started his robber career: a priceless piece owned by Stede's father that he tricked from a young, struggling artist (Lucius) who didn't know the worth of the small painting gifted to him by his old instructor before his death. along the way, Stede realizes that he can never return to his old life after this, and also that he is very, very in love with Ed <3

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it

[nickydestati]

duolingo tog prompts #1

sooo i decided to use random duolingo sentences i encounter as small prompts because some of them just give me a lot of inspiration for some reason ksjhfdjk, currently i’m learning greek and italian so we’ll see where this goes! 

anyway today’s prompt: i am a butterfly (io sono una farfalla)

***

will be home late, sorry. had an awful day at work and traffic is horrible. don’t wait for dinner. x

nicky reads the text over again before pressing send. he puts his phone away only to fish it back up from his bag three seconds later. no answer yet. joe probably has his hands full with cooking and entertaining their daughter. 

nicky worries at his lip as he looks through the front window of the bus, bouncing his leg up and down. red lights from stopping cars stare back through the rain like angry eyes. there must have been an accident, this street usually takes only five minutes and now they’ve been stuck on the same spot for twenty already.

he sighs and checks his phone again. the minutes jump from 50 to 51. 

on some days it’s better if you just stay in your bed and wait until it quietly passes, nicky thinks, because everything that can go wrong just goes wrong. today has been such a day for him. it started with him oversleeping because he had forgotten to set his alarm the day before. when he ran to the bus stop, stuffing a sandwich in his mouth, he missed the bus by a second and had to wait for another fifteen minutes for the next. when the bus arrived five minutes late, they had to stop for every traffic light on the way and it had started to rain. not just a drizzle, no, a pouring rain that got you soaked within ten seconds. so he had to give a lecture soaking wet and completely unfocused. and everything got only worse from there:  he spilled coffee on the papers he was grading and the printer wouldn’t work when he needed it and the books he needed for his research weren’t in the library and so on and so on.

and now he’s an hour later than usual and with the luck he’s having today, he will probably not even be in time to put his daughter to bed and kiss her goodnight. 

he swallows away the tightness in his throat at the thought, blinking to ward off the uncoming tears. god, he really needs a good night’s sleep. or a holiday. or both.

finally, finally, finally the bus stirs. everyone in it sighs in relief. they are still moving at a snail’s pace, but at least they are moving.

another twenty minutes later, nicky twists the key in the lock and opens the front door. 

he has only put one foot inside when rapid footsteps tap on the wooden flooring and he can fling his bag away just in time to catch his daughter in his arms. 

“hello, sweetie, i missed you so much,” he says, pressing a kiss on her head as he lifts her up and hugs her. 

“papa, look! i am a butterfly!” she yells.

he pulls back a little to look at her and sees how bright pink and purple and blue wings are painted over her cheeks and eyes and temples. Along her nose runs the brown body of the butterfly and on her forehead curl its feelers.

“wow, honey, you look beautiful! did daddy do that for you?”

she beams and nods eagerly and smiles as brightly as her dad. it makes all worries and stress of the day fall from nicky’s shoulders, it’s all already turning into a distant memory. 

joe appears around the corner to the living room, leaning against the wall and nicky immediately forgets the cold of the rain outside. 

his husband is hoding a brush in his hand and waves it at nicky with an amused smile. “now it’s your turn, ya hayati.”

“my turn?” nicky asks.

“yes, we wanted to cheer you up, didn’t we, my little butterfly?”

their little butterfly yells and giggles her agreement as she wraps her little arms around nicky’s neck to hug him again, probably getting paint all on his shoulder but he couldn’t care less.

nicky laughs. “how sweet of you, honey. and shall we paint daddy together afterwards? what do you think?”

at this, their daughter squeals and jumps out of nicky’s arms. “yes! then we can all be butterflies!” and she runs to joe, pulling at his arm and dragging him to the living room. he glances back at nicky with a smile and a wink before following.

nicky shrugs off his coat, takes off his shoes and with them all the building frustration of the day. he goes and joins his little butterfly-family, and marvels for what must be the millionth time at how lucky he is.