#taste test Tuesday drabbles

[imaginedreamwrite]

I love that you mentioned wedding for taste test Tuesday because that's what I thought of, waking up early to the smell of coffee, your other half excited to take part in today's wedding planning as it speaks to not only his heart but his stomach ;) Maybe you start out with cake tasting and then you split up for a final fitting only to meet for wine tasting and return home for your man's favourite dessert ;) You!

The door creaked open, and he tried to keep his feet light as he crossed the floor to get to the bed. His eyes swept across the bed as his lips twitched and formed a soft smile. He had been up for hours busying himself and getting ready for the day, all while he let his grumpy bride sleep.

He knew full well that you weren’t a morning person, which is what made the surprises for the day so perfect. He was going to completely blow you out of the water as you continued your wedding planning, starting with a jolt of caffeine.

“I’ll tell on you.” Your voice comes from below the blankets and pillows, your groggy groan endearing and altogether adorable to him.

“Who are you going to tell?” He questions and sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight earning another groan.

“The brute of Boston.” You whine and slowly roll onto your back, your arms raised above your head as your stretch and fight off the lingering exhaustion.

“The brute of Boston,” he chuckled with mirth and reached for the blankets, slowly tugging them down, “told me to wake the little ballerina up.”

“No.” You huff and turn over, not before sticking your tongue out at him.

“The brute of Boston and I have a day planned for you, little bride.” Bucky is grinning boyishly, perhaps for the first time in ages. “Now up.”

“No.” You protest again, denying him what he knows needs to happen. “I don’t want to.”

“Does your ass still sting?” It’s not Bucky that speaks, its the brute that calls from the doorway with amusement.

“I mean bad girls get punishments.”

“Ari!” You whine again, whimpering as heat pools between your legs. “Its not fair that you take me to the ballet and then bend me over the railing-“

“-you made quite the delicious treat, princess. I wonder what they would’ve said if they knew that my tongue was shoved into your pussy while you were watching Swan Lake.” He stepped forward, and like clockwork, the blankets flew off of you.

“I’m up. No more. I can’t handle it.” You shift your position to sit, briefly looking at Bucky.

“Today is wedding tasting,” Bucky leaned over and cupped your chin in his hand, nibbling on your bottom lip, “and the joint union of New York and Boston needs to be celebrated.”

“Sweet princess needs to get dressed.” Ari tucked his chin into his chest, studying you. “Come on baby, get dressed. We’re starting with a coffee tasting.”

“And then wine, desserts and cake to end it all.” Despite being two of the deadly and dangerous mafia men of NYC and Boston, they are nothing but loving to you.

“Up, beautiful.” Bucky reaches over and gently smacks your thigh to get you to move, and then he gets up to leave you to dress. “And hurry your fine ass up before you get a headache.”

The grumbling that leaves your mouth is short, its quiet and it stirs you. You had gotten dressed quickly, combining some of Ari’s gifts with Bucky’s until you had a full outfit that both men loved on you.

The black stockings had been a gift from Bucky, and were lined for warmth. They had rest underneath a patterned black and grey skirt that Ari picked up in Italy. The skirt was adorned with a skinny belt from Chanel with a sleek silver buckle, a gift from Bucky that was delivered last Christmas. The full length black sweater you tucked under the skirt had come from Ari on Valentine’s Day.

When you were ready and done, you skillfully rode the stair railing down to the lower level like you loved as a child and came to stop before Ari.

“You look beautiful, princess.” He scooped you from the railing and set you on the floor, his hands staying on your hips to steady you. “I hope you’re ready, Barnes is impatient.”

“I was promised coffee.” You rest your hand upon his chest, fingers curling every so slightly to feel the swell of his thick, sculpted pecs.

He was a massive man, intimidating and well within his right to earn the monicker of the Brute of Boston. He was your saviour, at one point, who took you in when the Barnes family had essentially blacklisted you from the city. Ari was there to help you thrive, survive and come back alive when Bucky found you when you returned to NYC for his fathers funeral.

“Coffee, my sweet ballerina?” Ari’s lips slated against your own, the tender exchange of affection bringing forth a new surge of desire that bubbled beneath the surface.

Ari’s lips against your own produced heat that shot through you, travelling from your head to your feet. The dusting of his plump flesh against yours, and the soft exhale of his warm breath as he exhaled into the kiss, was electrifying.

You were buzzing, every inch of you sparking to life with the renewed sense of belonging as both men had claimed you as their own.

It was a status of sharing, a status of great importance that you were the bonds that tied them together in one massive empire. Boston and NYC, Barnes and Levinson forming an alliance that was rooted and based in marriage and love for the same woman.

“You promised, Mr. Levinson.” You gazed at him through your lashes, your hands balling the material of his shirt in your palms. “Don’t let me down.”

“What the little princess wants…” His hands snaked down your back, smoothing the long sleeve sweater before his palms met the globes of your backside, and through your skirt, his fingers dug into your ass.

“…the little princess gets.” Bucky had stepped out of the kitchen with a travel cup of coffee in one hand, and a set of onyx black keys in the other. “If the princess would like to continue-“

“Coffee.” You squirmed against Ari, diving from his arms and darting toward Bucky. “Thank you.”

“Wine, and then cake.”

“I thought it was cake and then wine?” You hummed, lifting the cup to your lips to sip on the delicious mixture of sweet and bitter.

“Either way, at the end of the night…” Bucky’s seductive voice had acted like a poker stirring up a fire with every stroke of his tongue against his lips as he spoke, the heat in your belly had become almost unbearable.

“You will be our dessert.”

** **

The taste of cake was still on your tongue, the taste of buttercream and vanilla, chocolate and mousse flooded your taste buds in a reminiscent reminder that you were made into a delectable treat yourself.

“And what did you find more pleasing, sweet girl?” Ari‘a hand trapped your wrists above your head, his eyes darkened by lust and hunger as you tried to struggle.

“Answer him, baby.” Bucky looked at you from between your legs, urging you to answer while your juices dripped from his lips. “Answer Ari or I quit.”

“Please,” you whimpered and bucked your hips, the body chain they decorated you with twisting with your movements, “please don’t stop.”

“Answer him,” Bucky restated before he tapped his thumb against your clit, “3…2…1…”

“Vanilla and raspberry!” You squealed and ground your hips against Bucky’s fingers, seeking more pressure and pleasure from him. “God-!”

“Good girl,” Ari praised you and used his free hand to pull on the nipple clamps attached to your stiff peaks, “you we’re so good today.”

“Bucky-!” You pleaded with him, only finding relief when he slated his lips against your cunt, and brushed his tongue against your puffy pussy lips. “Fuck, fuck-“

“Ride his face, honey.” Ari directed you, pushing you to the edge of the bed, and helping you wrap your legs around Bucky’s neck. “Just like that.”

“Shit, shit, shit….” You cursed, your head lolling back when Bucky’s tongue plunged into your spongy walls, and his fingers pinched your sensitivities clit. “I can’t, I’m going to-“

“Its okay, baby. You can cum on his face, go on.” Ari leaned over, he dusted his lips against your jaw and blew a light puff of air against you. “Cum for him, and then you can have my cock.”

#taste test Tuesday #taste test Tuesday drabbles #once bitten twice shy series #once bitten twice #mob!ari levinson x reader #mob!Ari Levinson x reader x mob!Bucky Barnes #smut #smutty drabble

[inlocusmads]

Hii 🥰

I saw this picture for Valentine’s Day and thought maybe it’ll inspire a fic or an edit (no pressure 🥰)

Peonie, thank you so much! Here's a little drabble to go along with the picture!

Pancakes And Warfare

He gives her a stubborn riddle she can never crack. Except she tries and miserably fails.

Pairing: Nora Rose x Trystan Thorne, Crimes of Passion.

>> wc: 1.8k, teen and up, language warning

"They're cut into hearts."

"On account of Valentine's Day." Trystan beamed at her. "This is what you call a -- pankūka. Drakovia borrows a lot of words from the Latvian dialect. We also borrow some of their wonderful recipes! Except this isn't made out of potatoes, no. This has your usual sugar, spice and everything doughey, sweet and remarkable thrown into a pot. But there is a secret ingredient."

Nora found it adorable to see some of his Baltic accent poking through. The kind of ways he employed to describe his cooking faded his pseudo-North American accent and made him roll his "Rs" and stress upon his syllables.

"Novogliterol?"

"Ha ha. Very funny. So funny that I forgot how to even laugh, so funny that--"

"Okay, okay! I'll -- try it out."

It wasn't an odd sight because Trystan could cook and that too, exceptionally well. Nora clearly had her doubts about him, but after exhibiting that he was an extremely skilled home cook, the Detective was willing to accept it. She was just a little apprehensive, because though the occassion was Valentine's Day, it was still.. odd. Strange. What's the catch? she asked herself, as she cut up a slice of the pancake with a knife and forked it, before tasting a bit.

An overwhelming taste of vanilla took over Nora's taste buds, but it made her crave it even more. She took a bigger bite, cutting right into the heart. The vanilla slowly morphed into something cinnamon-y and there was something else.. a tinge of orange and maple, dolloped with the fresh scent of strawberry sorbet. And it only proceeded to get better, for the strawberry left a chocolatey aftertaste in her mouth, laced with even more sugar and spice and she could even taste a little bit of chilli.

Now, yes, it was a cacophony of flavours as individuals,but when they were dancing around together, they produced this harmonious, orchestral aroma that gravitated to an intense blend of sweet, salt and everything. Trystan was right. The secret ingredient was quite possibly everything he could get from his kitchen (and Nora's), but he crafted it so in such a way that it hit her only after she chewed and swallowed it down.

"Is it to your liking?" Trystan asked, ever the polite chef.

"Oh -- my -- freaking --" Nora paused in between to draw in sharp breaths and finish her food. "This is awesome! Freakishly awesome. Freakishly.. freaky. It's strange. It's a pancake. A frickin pancake and you --" she pointed an accusing finger at him, "How is this possible?"

"Well, that's the secret ingredient, isn't it?"

"A secret ingredient or plural?"

"One. Just one."

"This is drugged."

"I would never do that!"

"Trystan--"

"No. There are no drugs. I promise. One hundred percent natural. All the best stuff. Only the best for you, Detective."

"So what am I even tasting?"

"You're going to have to finish the entire thing to come to your deductions." He sent a playful wink her way.

***

Luke had seen his fair share of disturbing scenarios. His cyber espionages led him to uncover all the hidden details; the carpeted scandals that the people in the upper crust had tried their best to get rid of. However, there was nothing comparable to that of walking into the office on a nice Tuesday evening, to find Nora Rose hunched over the table, in front of the evidence board mounted on an easel; with red strings leading from one place to the other.

"Woah-- what's -- up?" he tested the waters. "Working on a case?"

"Take a look at this! No really!" Nora stood up, nearly knocking her chair away. "I have to talk about this right now - this piparmetra popping up every now and then! Piparametra in Latvian is peppermint but what I tasted was not peppermint in any way. But it keeps popping up everywhere - and I've tried recipes, books, even songs! Drakovia has songs about everything but back in their rebellion days, they consumed a heck ton of peppermint and you had dishes with peppermint and cinnamon in them as spices and condiments and whatnot -- THEN I decided to talk to an expert who knows stuff about food, yes, Carl from the diner. He takes a stab at it, says there's absolutely no way you can mix chilli and vanilla and chocolate and make it sound sweet and he gave me this -"

Nora grabbed a huge book from her messenger bag and threw it onto the mahogany desk with a massive whack. The book was filled with post-it notes and packed with annotations.

"-- and I go through all of them! Anything remotely related to Baltic cuisine and culture. But then, I find this --"

She frantically ran through the pages, spotting a footnote right in the middle. "A paper trail leading to a newspaper. And when I went through the said newspaper, well it wasn't even one, because it was a food magazine. Why were magazines masquerading as newspapers? We'll never know, but that bit isn't important. What is important is the magazine in itself. The chief editor manned a catering service program for motorsport races - specifically the Formula One, but apparently the company shut down due to some shady embezzlement - again, not important--"

Luke tried to open his mouth but promptly closed it.

"The most interesting thing I found out was that a former member of the Renault Racing Team pit crew quit to write to food blogs. Emphasis on the "to" because he didn't start a food blog. He just submitted entries to the ones that accepted them. And he was employed directly by this person who owns the catering company. Funny, but we won't get into the details. The point is, it all ties back to Baltic pancakes somehow because -- this happens, yada yada yada, and somehow you have this Renault Guy and Catering Guy work on this recipe and on a mysterious food blog dated March 15th 2016, you have a story about the pancakes being a hit, some funny stories from the pit and so on and so forth -- but they are linked. There are no citations, no sources."

"But --"

"Anyway it is an excruciatingly long story, lots of embezzlements and tax frauds but we're not going to that. And also, there was an unsolved murder of a seven year old child that I also came across and that isn't important right now. The primary source of the recipe is lost, but I tried following fifteen different paper trails - food blogs, recipe books and not one of them explicitly mention what's in the secret ingredient. They dismiss it as a "spice mixture" and go onto gory details about their partner's affair with the zumba teacher. Once again, not important. THE POINT being I am so terribly lost. Do something."

"Do what?"

"According to this article on Drakovian culture, a tourist says they're all very secretive about their traditions and hate teaching it to foreigners, which is -- fine, understandable. Whatever. And then they go into a lot of detail about how to learn them, which is convenient. They go into a lot of stuff about sparring techniques and the five different words for the past tense of beheading alone and so on.. and I got a tiny footnote at the end. I need your help with the--" Nora made typing gestures in the air. "Computers. Yes."

"Ok..ay?"

"But there is a problem."

"And that is?"

"We might have to break into the Drakovian Palace's servers in Drakkos, which means we might likely commit international cyber warfare. Well, it is more of an espionage because data theft isn't exactly illegal by law and you can totally get away with the nastiest of things, but the whole idea is to just -- get things. But if Drakovia considers it to be a "strategic advantage" if we do break into their iron-clad computer systems and break whatever laws they probably have imposed on how they interact with the international community, we might be technically at war with them."

"So.. just a small war, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Very -- small."

"What's this for again?"

Nora swallowed hard.

"Rose." Luke demanded a response.

"Trystan the other day made me a stack of pancakes and wouldn't tell me what the secret ingredient is, that made it taste so good. So I'm trying to figure it out myself and so far, it isn't going great." she said, her hair falling out in small clumps, eyes red without sleep and a half tucked shirt that could only allude to the fact that she'd slept in the office just trying to figure this out.

"-- what."

***

"The secret ingredient is.. love."

"Oh fuck off." Nora snarled.

"No, it is, Detective! I just added in a bit of a love potion in it." Trystan said, a cheeky smile on his face as he relaxed on his couch. "I'm surprised it has a low-reaction time though."

"I will murder you."

"Another Tuesday then?" he grinned.

"Okay -- okay--" Nora grabbed a mass of her hair, tied it up into a ponytail and rubbed her face in exasperation. It had been two whole days since the fiasco started and she was not having any of it. "You can't just tell me?"

"Nope. That defeats the purpose of it being secret. But yes, it is made with a lot of love and care. And you can never ever know it."

"Why not? Is it just to boost your ego?"

"Yes. But also -- this is the only riddle you can never solve and that gives me two shots of ego for the price of one. Crazy, isn't it? Crazy genius I'd say. Sir Trystan Sebastijan Thorne, Duke of Cleverness." Trystan chuckled, "But I suppose if you'd -- really like to know so bad, I can just tell you. I'm not a masochist, you know. No schadenfreude here. But you'd have to stick around to find out. With me, that is."

"How long?"

"Thirty years. Or eternity. Somewhere between that. Or.. I could tell you right here and right now, but you'd have to address me as Sir Trystan Sebastijan Thorne, Duke of Cleverness forever."

Nora scoffed and walked out the door.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Nora!"

***

"All settled now?" Luke asked, several days later. "Ready to take on a new case? I hear Mafalda's got some major stuff on the NYPD. Bribery and laundering and stuff. It's crazy good, but dangerous."

"Well -- I've got to wait for him."

Luke shrugged. "Who?"

Nora sighed. "Sir Trystan Sebastijan Thorne, Duke of Cleverness."

"What?"

And by a stroke of comedic-timing genius, the Prince walked in, flamboyantly waving his arms about, going all theatrical on a Thursday morning. "Good morning, everyone! I hear there's a murder on the papers today! Who's ready to get out there, hm?"

____

Thank you so much for reading! Happy Valentine's Day! I was in such a rush to get it done in time, because where I'm at, it is Feb 14th! Hope you guys have a great day! <33

Tagging:

Perma: @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @peonierose @writing-not

Crimes only: @cassie-thorne @lilyoffandoms @aallotarenunelma @ofmischiefandmedicine

#nora x trystan #w:inlocusmads #crimes of passion #askboxed! #peonierose

[sandsorghum]

2021 X'MAS X'CHANGE EVENT - WEEK 3

About the Event

Christmas is a time all about Giving & Receiving, so I figured, What better way to celebrate the season than to write about the Love Languages of some of our favourite Jujutsu Kaisen guys?

What's their default way of demonstrating love, and how do they want it reciprocated? In this series published over the next few Tuesdays, I'll be posting analyses + headcanons/mini drabbles of these four characters:

Week One - Gojo Satoru Week Two - Geto Suguru Week Three - Nanami Kento Week Four - Choso Kamo

And now for the man who turns my irises heartshaped

N A N A M I K E N T O

Both Giving and Receiving: Quality Time

What else would you expect from the sorcerer with an obsession about Overtime? Especially when you’ve become the reason he’s obsessed.

Nanami gets even stricter about knocking off the clock promptly, and has even less patience for Gojo's frivolous antics. Ironically, he's surprisingly lax if that time is spent with you; think lingering in bed for a few extra minutes in the morning, even if that means risking being late for work, or having to skip breakfast in order to be punctual.

Initially, he makes it a habit to see you at least once a week, no matter how busy he gets. Nothing agitates him more than having his plans to spend a whole Saturday or Sunday with you get interrupted, even if it's only by a phone call (if he sees the caller ID is Gojo he won't even bother picking up until the third time he rings, and if it's not an emergency the conversation rarely lasts longer than 10 seconds).

When you two become stable you'd think he'd be okay going a little while without contact, but nope, if anything his desire to meet up only doubles - and if he can't visit you in person, then expects lots of FaceTime (he's not much of a texter, but likes to hear your voice so you can ramble on about anything). He really detests long-distance missions now, and in his case the "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" epithet is 101% true.

For him, there's something sacred about your time together, and Kento favours activities where he has an "excuse" to extend the duration you're together; it starts with something simple like wanting to test out a complicated cake recipe that takes a few hours to make, (you're keeping an eye on the oven but he's happy just watching you).

Or think half-day craft workshops, wine tasting events or taking long drives to scenic destinations where there isn't anything to distract him from just being in your presence.

Nanami would cherish and closely guard the comfortable stages of your relationship. He's more than happy to simply spend an afternoon reading on the couch, with you nestled in his arms while you binge watch a series or pretend to listen to a podcast. Heck, he'd be delighted even if you just fell asleep against him, with nothing more than shared silence, the occasional flick of a page and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat surrounding you.

And because I am absolute S I M P for this man, I've written an entire drabble of how that Quality Time looks in a domestic setting below:

Nanami counts down the hours till he reunites with you, the moment he steps past the threshold, every minute melts together, slow and syrupy with the scent and feel of you. You’ve gotten good at giving barely apologetic “welcome back” pecks, because if you linger in his embrace longer than ten seconds, dinner will burn on the stove. He has a way of forcing you to focus on the fire in his eyes instead, and the gentle, roiling boil in your belly.

But he lets you get on with the meal, he understands sating this one type of hunger serves as an appetizer for another. He knows it won’t be long before you’re whet and wet… (I make no apologies)

You consider yourself quite a competent cook, and you tend to be pretty proud of and pleased by what you plate up, until of course, Nanami emerges, merely towel-clad from his shower; steaming, smelling and making your mouth water more than anything you’ve spent the past two hours preparing.

Who - I mean what’s the main course again?

This time, you want to avoid the embarrassment of him having to ask twice as you’re staring at his lips, the way they twitch up, amused and perplexed that he has to prompt you more than once for such a simple question. (Back then he definitely noticed your distraction, and thought it was adorable but he’ll never tell you that or how it made another part of him twitch)

You do a quick Google to remind yourself what the menu you’ve been fussing over for the past couple of hours is, before Nanami pulls up a chair - disappointingly, decently dressed.

You fell in love with a foodie, and the way he eats is so appreciative, it’s one of the first things (of the innumerable) that attracted you to him. He’s entirely engaged with the meal, analyzing aromas, asking about recipes, how you adapted it with your limited (yet steadily growing) arsenal of equipment, commenting about the freshness of the ingredients and inquiring which market or supplier you sourced them from. One of the hallmarks of your relationship is that he’s become more honest with his feedback, instead of being blithely complimentary about your culinary standards (which have improved since you started cooking together. He’s a little too exact, you were more "Just go with your gut and if it stays in the stomach, it’s good!")

You’d never taken him as someone effusive with his praise, even when warranted, so it’s a nice surprise to find out how unsparing he can be with his attention and passion. When he’s truly enjoying something though, he sits in complete silence, eyes involuntarily shut, fork or chopsticks poised between his lips - and you’ve never felt so goddamed envious of a bit of cutlery before. He lets out a low little hum you’re certain even he isn’t aware of, and your own reaction is Pavlovian, you can’t resist smiling at that sound. He’s caught it a few times when his eyes fly open, gaze swiftly searching for yours, eager to let you know how much he loves what you’ve done, even without words.

You’re the chef, but you feel so full, so well-fed when you see that expression. He’s nourishing, and ravishing all at once. The look he gives you promises to make good on the latter later tonight. Such in-depth conversations and moments extend the dinner hour, or hours occasionally, longer than they strictly need to be, but Nanami wouldn’t have it any other way, he wants all the time in the world at this table. But there are dishes to be done and pots to be scrubbed and matching aprons to put on.

You remember the first and so far only association between the word bashful and Nanami Kento, when he originally presented them to you It was also the first time you swore in front of him, which caught him completely by surprise. But you intended the expletive only to emphasize how endearing he was.

“Nanami, you’re so fucking cute sometimes, I -”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you broke into more laughter as he shrugged and started to wear the apron, ribbons and all, accessorised with his gruff and reticent charm.

"Is it ok to use steelwool on this?”

~~~

Long nights with Nanami aren’t always due to the conduit of food as foreplay did someone suggest swapping out the third course for intercourse? He once pitted his stubbornness against an old scorch stain on the bottom of your Dutch oven, you begged him to just leave it to soak overnight babe isn’t there another oven you might want to put a bun in but he didn’t join you in bed till late, and then only smelling of lemons and white wine vinegar. Ordinarily you’d consider the combination of those ingredients potentially delicious, potent even, a citrus twist mingling with your man’s musk - but you’re restless and annoyed, that he’d busied his hands at the sink instead of beneath your sheets and now he’s tired. Peevishly you mused that he’d happily acquiesce if you asked, even directly, but you’re no longer in the mood now to appear alluring.

Plus, as you glance over at him reaching for his earphones on his nightstand, it seemed he had other plans. You contain your sigh and turn the page of your novel. You both had your own wind-down routines before you met, and they would rarely intersect. You usually tried to finish up a few chapters, he’d be listening to a podcast. Stock market forecasts or some other obscure series that fit under the financial advice category, you assumed.

Silence settled like a duvet over the two of you, each immersed in your respective stories.

You don’t mind this at all, you realize, comfortably nestled against Nanami’s chest, his arm draped around your shoulder. His hand encapsulates yours, rubbing small circles against your thumb. You really, really like this little habit of his.You realise you’re paying more attention to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat than the progress of the plot, it would be easier to doze off to…You feel something warm brush against the shell of your ear, something so familiar.

“You asleep?”

“No, not really, though asking that question is kinda counterintuitive if I was trying to.”

Nanami makes a sound in his throat that’s not quite a chuckle, it’s lost in the ruffle of his shirt as he pulls you closer against him.

“There’s something I want to share with you.”

There’s a rustle against your ears and this time it’s a slightly more foreign sensation, plastic and pliable and the voice of someone far more predisposed to suspense than Nanami.

“Oh, this is an audiobook?”

“Sort of a radio play. It’s a different story by the same author of this.”

Nanami taps the cover of the book that he had distracted you from, first unwittingly by his heartbeat and second, intentionally, with this recommendation. You’re only a few minutes in, but this narrative already sounds way more interesting. Well, that’s an understatement, you and Nanami end up binge-listening well past 2am and developing theories. You only stop because the subsequent episodes aren’t published yet. The next update will come in the following month. You declare the anticipation is agony, collapsing against the pillows, actually tired now. Nanami smiles, amused by your insomnia-induced melodrama and abrupt tailspin into exhaustion.

He leans over, pulling the blankets over you both and giving you a good night kiss on the cheek (or is it morning, by this point?). Before you drift off, you hear him murmur, “It’ll be worth the wait. I’m happy, just sharing this story with you.”

There’s something that sounds unusually sincere about his tone, something in between the lines of Nanami's simple statement, but you can’t quite be bothered to place it as sleep claims you. It matters little; there are many more mornings, afternoons and evenings where Nanami will reveal what he means, and how much you mean to him, in his own quiet, lingering ways.

#nanami kento hcs #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #sandsorghum #jjk

[bonvoyagenoona]

i found a map of mrs. kims on tuesday after i got the results back that i tested positive for covid and ever since then it’s been part of a source of comfort for me during my self isolation. the kims are such a beautiful family and i’ve devoured every single one of the asks on the amomk tag. i just finished reading the first full chapter and im just in awe of how you managed to work some of the asks into the story and weaved together the dynamics between the characters from the asks so beautifully. the humor was impeccable, i really enjoyed witnessing the kim brothers navigate their curse of being too gorgeous. i cannot wait to find out who the woman representing the black circle is because i have a feeling she plays a pivotal part in the story. last but not least, mr. and mrs. kim. witnessing them meet for the first time was nothing short of magical, like i was watching this big monumental history unfold. bongseon was a very captivating girl with her sassiness and no nonsense attitude and i could see both jin and taehyung in her, jin with her no nonsense attitude and taehyung with her cute impulses like sticking a rolled up piece of paper up her nostrils because i remember there was a drabble of taehyung sticking up something of mrs. kim’s up his nose. and jihu was so much like namjoon in his mannerisms from his slight clumsiness to his body packing up so much power and even his dimpled boyish smitten smiles. i loved seeing all of that and knowing that they both would pass those traits down to their sons in the future. im sorry for the long ask but before i send this thank you so much for this story

Hi, friend! I'm so sorry to hear you tested positive, but I'm also hoping that since then, you're feeling much better and have made a full recovery! I'm so sorry to respond so late. Thank you so much for your kind words! This story is for you! It has been so fun building this world with you, and if AMOMK could bring any kind of comfort to you, then I'm so thrill---

Mrs. Kim: SEOKJINNIE! YOU HEAR THAT??

Jin: (saluting) Yes, Eomma! The jook is basically almost done! (grinning) And it smells and tastes amazing, if I do say so myself.

Mrs. Kim: Tae-Tae, you still good on the baesuk??

Taehyung: (eyes wide, stirring another pot on the stove) Namjoonie-hyung is supposed to be back with more gin---

Namjoon: (running into the kitchen, stumbling every now and then) I got it I got it I got it!

He tosses a small, clear, plastic bag onto the counter.

Taehyung: (grabbing the bag) OK!

Mrs. Kim marches over and inspects the ingredients in Taehyung's hands.

Mrs. Kim: Namjoon! This is garlic, not ginger!

Namjoon: Oh.

Mr. Kim: (walking into the kitchen) No worries, I got the ginger for the baesuk.

Namjoon: (sighing) Thanks, Appa.

Jin: You just anticipated that, Appa?

Mr. Kim: Kinda?

Namjoon: (embarrassed) I always get them mixed up in my head for some reason.

Mr. Kim: (smiling reassuringly) I do, too. (putting his arm around Namjoon's shoulders) That's why I anticipated it.

Namjoon smiles weakly.

Mrs. Kim: Well, don't just stand there! Yeobo, Namjoonie, go fluff up the pillows! Bring some water! Utmost comfort!

Namjoon and Mr. Kim diligently obey.

Mrs. Kim: (taking over Taehyung) And Tae-Tae, go get your camera! I want to get photos of you caregiving for the website.

Jin: (shuts his eyes in frustration, lets his head hang back, scalp almost touching the top of his spine) Are you serious, Eomma?!

Taehyung: (frustrated) Maaa!!

Jin: (frustrated) Maaa!!

Namjoon: (from the guest room, where you are staying, momentarily frustrated) Maaaa!!

source

Read AMOMK here (updates coming soon!)

Read the AMOMK drabbles on the #AMOMK tag

#asks #your asks #anon #amomk #a map of mrs. kims #bts fanfiction #bts drabbles #aw anon i really hope you're feeling better #i hope all of the bts updates have made you smile #i hope you're back doing all the things that you love #i hope you're happy and healthy and having a good meal right now #and i hope you're feeling light and loved

[ihopuhopwehop]

Prompt Training Tuesday by @authorpetalstosarah !!!!

“Guess I’ll just stumble on home to my cats” Fremione (a bit longer than a Drabble but whatevs)

Hermione yawned widely as she walked to the floo network connected to her office.

It had been a long day full of reviewing legal documents regarding rights for house elves and other magical beings.

She had had lunch with Harry and Ron, Ginny would have been there if she wasn’t currently playing in Brazil with the Holyheads, and was now planning to stop by Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

In the midst of her advocating for the rights of magical beings, she had also been sent a memo regarding the approval of an over-the-counter pain potion from WWW’s. Normally, she wouldn’t have handled something so trivial, but some of the people in her office were skeptical of it, wondering if it induced pain or pranking instead of relieving the pain.

As such, she took the task of visiting the mischievous twin brothers to approve their latest product idea.

She grabbed some floo powder and clearly stated, “Weasley Wizard Wheezes” before spinning into the main fireplace in the shop.

“The ministry’s little darling? Come to visit us? Why, to what do we owe the pleasure Hermione?” George winked at her as he brought a stack of boxes to the front.

“We all know Harry is the ministry’s little darling. And I got a curious little memo today about a pain potion that I volunteered to check out.”

George’s smile widened, “Perfect! We—“

“George, where are the prototypes for the Bygmy Buffs—oh, hullo Hermione. What can the two best looking Weasleys do for ya?”

Fred asked as he slid down the banister into the main room.

“Bygmy Buffs? Like bigger Pygmy Puffs?”

Fred sighed dramatically, “The cats out of the bag now, Georgie. Looks like she’ll have to take the unbreakable vow to make sure she won’t reveal the product too soon.”

“Hardly think that will be necessary, otherwise we can just put a few love potions in her drink. Make her fall in love with Ron again.” George winked while Hermione groaned.

“Can you please let that go. It was years ago, and he has Lavender now. And anyways, any love potions in my drink and I’ll be sure to veto your request for the pain potions.”

Fred grinned while he clapped his hands together once, “The request went through! Brilliant! Do you need a few to test out now?” Fred walked over to a blank wall where he tapped a few random bricks with his wand. The wall transformed into a storage room, where he grabbed a box full of vials with a light blue potion inside.

“Well what is it first? I assume you wouldn’t make a potion to induce pain, but the Department for Magical Inventions didn’t seem too sure...”

Fred shook his head in mock disappointment, “They never trust us Forge.”

“It’s almost like they expect us to create pranks, Gred.”

Fred then turned back to Hermione, who was quirking an eyebrow at them, “Well go on then, what is it?”

Fred, who was starting to feel some pain in his leg that was crushed during the Battle of Hogwarts (hence why he slid down the banister) reached out to a vial and gulped it down.

He made an “ahhh” sound and turned to Hermione.

“It’s a low grade pain potion, but taste much better than the rubbish Madam Pomfrey used to give. And, can help with phantom pain too, as George has figured out.”

George fingered the hair surrounding the hole in his head where his ear used to be and smiled at Hermione.

“Laughs help people get through dark times, but we figured pain killers help a little bit too.”

Fred tossed one to Hermione. “Go on, try some. I know you’ve got a headache after a day at the ministry.”

He was not wrong, but Hermione sniffed the potion before downing it, just in case. It smelled like fresh blueberry scones.

She downed it, and immediately felt the pressure subside and her tension headache fade away. As well as the constant dull ache where the word “Mudblood” was carved.

She subconsciously fingered the scar, testing to see if the potion would hold, and when it did she looked back up at two of the most brilliant creators she’s ever known.

“That’s-thats brilliant! I can’t even—it smelled like blueberry scones—“ She moved to hug them both, though admittedly hugging Fred a beat longer for reasons she refused to acknowledge at the moment. “That’s extraordinary magic! I’ll put in an order for emergency approval if I have too! Thank you!”

She thought about grabbing two for Ron and Lavender to give them sooner rather than later, knowing that they both still had pains from the trauma the war had caused them.

“Well thank you Granger, that means a lot coming from you.” Fred said with a smile.

George eyeballed them and then busied himself with putting the boxes back into the storage room, a small smirk on his face.

“Well, the product deserves it. I mean, this can help so many people. Ron, Lavender, not to mention everybody affected by the war.”

Fred smiled lightly as he took a step closer, “Why we made it, eh?”

Hermione and Fred stared at each other for another second until Fred cleared his throat, “Well, I guess I’ll just stumble on home to my cats.” He lifted up his purple and orange cane for the joke to land, but Hermione only furrowed her eyebrows.

“Cats? When did you get cats?”

Fred looked a little bit sheepish, “Er, my dad read about a muggle thing called emotional support pets and well, I figured the cats would help with er—the nightmares. Crookshanks always seemed to like me, even if he didn’t like Scabbers but—“ He cut off with a shrug.

“Granger, you ought to go meet our cats.” George cut in with a wink to Fred, “I’ll be at Angelina’s so Fred will need a fellow human to keep him company.”

Hermione tried to hide her smirk, “Well, if Fred here is okay with it, I’d love too.”

Fred gave up glaring at George and returned to Hermione with a smile, “I’d love that. You can help me figure out how to train them to use the toilet! Dad said he saw a video of some muggles doing that, seemed pretty cool.”

And with that, they both made their way to Fred and George’s flat, their aches fading and their laughter increasing.

#fremione #Harry Potter #fanfiction #gryffindor #weasley wizard wheezes #weasleys #fred and george #gred and forge #hermione

[timep3tals]

Could you a do a fic were Peter and Morgan have to learn how to share and love each other? Or maybe jealous flash gets extremely salty when he sees peter and tony's natural intimacy as father and son?? 😊

As much as I enjoy the first idea, it’s too long for a drabble. Maybe one day I could write a fic! I hope you enjoy!

Ever since half the universe’s spectacular return from the dead, it’s been even harder than normal for Flash to ignore Parker. Not that he was obsessed with Peter, but the guy was just ever-presently there, even when he wasn’t physically in the room with them.

But that might also be Flash’s jealousy talking when he sees the other teen holding hands with MJ (how he swung that one, Flash will never know), or making private jokes with Ned, or when he brings Tony fucking Stark to every school event there was. Flash is decently sure he’d seen more of Tony Stark in a few months than he had in a lifetime. 

Every decathlon meet, Iron Man himself was just there. Stark even brought this way-too-high-tech-to-be-bought camera that hovered midair and filmed everything Parker said. He came to every PTSA meeting with freshly baked cookies while Parker slouched in the chair, like he was somehow fucking embarrassed Stark was there, chatting up the nearest Linda or Karen.

After school, three times a week (Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays), Stark was there, picking Parker up with a cheerful arm (the only one Stark had left, because he was just badass like that) around his shoulders and a smile so adoring Flash always had to look away. It wasn’t fair. What had Parker done to deserve Tony fucking Stark worshipping the ground he walked on? What had Flash not done?

Hell, he pays more attention in class than Parker does. Usually the nerd is sitting in the back of the classroom, tapping away on his phone rather than paying attention. Flash saw the other day he was texting Stark. Parker also doesn’t do anything in gym, just makes faces at Leeds while doing sit-ups when Flash was actually busting his ass to get the best times.

But somehow Parker got Stark, and Flash got nobody. Not even his own parents. Sometimes, even their driver wouldn’t show up to pick him up from PTSA.

On those days, Flash would grumpily eat Stark’s delicious, homebased cookies and seethe over the fact he only got to taste them because of Parker.

All of the building resentment came to head one Thursday afternoon. The night prior, Flash’s father had yelled at him over the eighty-nine he got on their last Calculus test. Parker, the kid notorious for never paying attention in class, got the only one hundred. He even got five extra points, for a 105, because of some stupid extra credit project he did that Stark supposedly helped him on.

The bells had just run to release the students to go home for the day. Flash slammed his locker shut and stomped outside, on a warpath with no particular destination. It wasn’t until he saw Parker outside waving goodbye to MJ, smiling that stupid smile of his, that Flash finally snapped.

“Hey, Parker!” he shouted. “Penis Parker!”

Parker didn’t even flinch. He just turned and raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. It was a face he’d seen Stark make many a time in PTSA meetings when he thought something was stupid or ridiculous, and it made Flash burn to see it on Parker’s face directed at him.

“Who the fuck do you even think you are?” Flash went on. 

“Is this a rhetorical question?” Parker asked, eyebrow raising even closer to his hairline.

“What’s up with you and Tony Stark? You his new little boy toy, or some shit?” The eyebrow lowered. Parker’s face closed off, and Flash knew he struck a nerve he shouldn’t be poking at, but he was so satisfied at finally breaking past that cheerful front that he couldn’t stop now he’d finally found the chink in Peter Parker’s seemingly indestructible armor. “I mean, why else would the most powerful man in the world pay attention to some fucking nobody like you.”

“Do not talk about him like that,” Parker said, low and fierce and protective in the way Flash had never heard him before. “Tony would never—“

“Oh, first name basis!” Flash let out a hysterical laugh. “You must really think you’re something special, then, huh? This is just rich. The lamest kid from school somehow gets all the love from the savior of the universe, just because he’s kinda smart. What about me?” 

What about Flash’s parents? What does he have to do to get all the love people so openly give to Parker? Why wouldn’t anyone look at him the way Stark looks at Parker, like Stark would jump in front of a speeding train if it meant Peter would smile?

“Right, what about you?” a cold voice demanded, older and deeper than Parker’s. Flash felt his insides curdle as he turned to see Tony fucking Stark, standing taller than Flash had ever seen. Stark’s chest was swelled with fury, and those eyes usually hidden behind sunglasses bore nakedly into Flash’s own. “Who the hell are you?”

“Tony,” Parker said, “don’t worry about it, let’s just go.”

“No, no,” Stark said, brushing Parker’s urging aside. He wouldn’t look away from Flash, and Flash just wanted to die. How did he forget Stark picked Parker up on Thursdays? “I want to hear the name of the little punk who thinks he can talk to my kid that way.”

“Tony,” Parker groaned, exasperated.

“It’s Flash, sir,” Flash said. His eyes finally dropped to his feet where his stomach sat heavily. He could barely stop his hands from shaking as the most powerful man in the world bore holes into his head. 

“Flash. God, who the fuck thinks up kids’ names anymore?“ Stark shifted minutely closer, and Flash skittered a nervous few steps back. “Listen kid, I don’t care who the fuck you think you are. No one messes with my son. Ever. You understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Flash squeaked.

“Good.” Flash chanced a glance. Stark slid his sunglasses back on and leaned forward. “Do not think for a second I wouldn’t do anything for this kid. The threat should be pretty fucking clear, even for moronic teenage ears. Peter is brilliant and kind, and three hundred times the person you will ever be. So what about you?” Flash swallowed. “You will only ever be worth the way you treat other people. Like shit.”

And, just like that, Stark tucked his arm around Parker and steered Parker away towards a shiny, silver Lamborghini that Stark tossed the keys to Parker for. Parker kept glancing back at Flash with worried eyes, but didn’t say a word as he peeled away from the curb. Flash was left standing, shaking, in front of the school with no one around him. Not even his so called friends dared to come close to the kid who Tony Stark chewed out.

You will only ever be worth the way you treat other people.

When the driver showed up an hour late to take him home to a place where no one spoke, Flash sat down, pulled out a piece of paper, and began to write a letter to every kid he’d ever pushed down, staring with Peter Parker.

Tag List: 

@keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @riseuplikeglitterandgold @just-the-daydreamer @baloobird @roaringgay @serendipity–goddess @tony-wheres-my-supersuit @spider-beep @swagfictonreadingnerd @tcny-stcrks @josywbu (lmk if you want to be added or removed! i’d always love more names to put down so... wink wink, nudge nudge)

#dont be a bully guys #its not cool #this actually turned out better and longer than i expected #wow #anywho #yes #enjoy! #tony stark #iron man #peter parker #spiderman #flash thompson #flash-centric #marvel #mcu #my writing #tony stark and peter parker #tony stark & peter parker #iron dad #iron dad and spider son #iron dad spider son #spiderson #spider son #drabble

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 43

Hey~ It’s Saturday, so it’s time for Fanfic Progress Update! Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure Gone Mini AND the next chapter of Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 32 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 18th of December. Chapter 33 has been started and is scheduled for 8th of January. Yes, progress was made; there was about one paragraph last Saturday, and now it’s actually properly started.

I update this fic every three weeks on Wednesdays.

—–

Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Husk is just your everyday demon, minding his own business and living his afterlife mostly in self-caused misery. He’s been at it for about ten years when he rather abruptly finds himself on the Radio Demon’s radar. Suddenly his life becomes a lot more interesting. For fuck’s sake, he did not ask for this bullshit.

Progress: Chapter 3 is the current latest chapter, and was published on 20th of December. Chapter 4 will be published on 27th of December. Chapters 5-13 are also ready and waiting. About half of chapter 14 is written as well. The final chapter count will be either 16 or 17, so yay for more chapters!

I will update this fic every Friday. This may change to twice a week (Tuesday and Friday) once I get the whole thing written out and no longer have to reserve writing time for it.

—–

Radiohusk that makes me question my life choices (workname)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Alastor and Husk make out and have pillow talks that range from cute to mildly disturbing to glimpses of Alastor’s backstory. Alastor is an awkward asexual who never really did romance because of that and now truly doesn’t know what he is even getting himself into. Basically a PWP but without smut.

Progress: No progress. I may just set this one aside for now, and possibly never properly finish (in which case it’ll end up on my website at some point). It’s a hot mess.

—–

Drunk Alastor (workname)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Roles are reversed in many ways when a drunk Alastor knocks on Husk’s door and has no intention of going to his own room for the night. Why yes, the author has one specific goal to get to here (no, not that one, eww), and you guys are going to love it, mwahaha! Oneshot, Alastor/Husk.

Progress: I’d say this is… maybe 2/3rds done. Or at least half done. It’s a long oneshot anyway. No progress since last Saturday. I’ve been hella busy with Christmas preparations, so I decided to concentrate on Afterlife with the little time I have. I’ll get back to this at some point, probably after Christmas.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Possibly worth staying for (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here are the promised sneak-peeks into Mini and Afterlife. (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fics themselves due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Link and Sidon woke up nice and early, well rested and eager to face the day. They ate a hearty breakfast on a bench near the marketplace with Link taste-testing the local specialities – super expensive roasted spider leg for one – and Sidon mostly eating from his own stash, as there was nothing that would satisfy his hunger available. They hoped that the town at the entrance of the Lost Woods would have a better selection. After all, the forest there was all misty and damp, so frogs were a likely find. After they were done eating, they headed to the library. Librari was sorting books that had been left in the return box overnight, or had possibly been brought in this morning by the early birds. She looked up when they entered, and smiled widely.

Afterlife

Husk glared at his radio. It was sitting innocently on the glass top of its designated small, round table in the corner, like a regular old radio should. The problem was that today he planned to use it as a telephone, like a good little lunatic, to call a serial killer over. Yes, the act would be exactly as crazy as it sounded. At least there was nobody around to judge him for it, and he didn't need to explain shit to anyone regardless. No, it was just him judging himself, and that was the fucking worst.

He didn't actually want to invite the Radio Demon over. He didn't want to invite anyone over, period. But he had made a promise in his moment of weakness the last time they met and one didn't make promises to homicidal maniacs and then break them. He was stuck in this situation whether he liked it or not.

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3    FFnet    Purple Crayon    Ko-fi

#Fanfic progress update

[mikauzoran]

Adrienette Drabble Twenty-Nine: Sister

Luka tossed his tie onto the bed and was just starting to unbutton his shirt when a knock came at the cabin door.

“Come in?”

Juleka entered, raising a hand in greeting. With a little hop and a belly-flop, she landed on the bed.

Luka chuckled even as he arched an eyebrow. “What’s up, Jules? I was just about to sit down and write a song. I got some inspiration tonight, and some new music’s been twirling about in my mind. I want to pin it down before it Cinderellas away.”

Juleka rolled over onto her back, grabbing the tie and snapping it at him like a whip. “Does your Cinderella have blonde hair and green eyes?” she hummed mischievously.

With a sigh, Luka went to grab one of his guitars from its stand. He took a seat on the bed and started strumming experimentally until something low, seductive, and sensuous took shape, twisting around the notes like the gyrations of a belly dancer, inviting yet insistent.

“So…Adrien Agreste.” Juleka spoke up once more. “Not just eye candy after all?” She indicated the small poster of Adrien hanging amongst the band posters and personal pictures on the wall next to Luka’s bed.

Luka glanced up at the image. Adrien’s burgundy dress shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open. He had one hand on his waist, thumb gently tugging down his jeans and exposing the top band of his boxers. Adrien’s eyes positively smoldered, and the confident smirk sealed the deal. It was the first in a series of more mature poses that Gabriel had released for the previous year’s spring line.

Luka sighed. “I think this was a one-night-only deal. I’m guessing you saw us dancing?”

“Was that supposed to be dancing?” Juleka snickered patronizingly.

Luka rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t do the same thing with Rose.”

“Rose and I are in a committed, long-term relationship,” Juleka countered. “You’re just lucky your girlfriend didn’t see.”

Luka strummed a few notes, going back to the serpentine melody Adrien had put into his head. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was just dancing. Just platonic flirting. We set mutually agreeable ground rules.”

“I would never dance like that with someone besides Rose,” Juleka snorted, flipping her raven hair out of her face. “And how can you platonically flirt with someone you’ve had a crush on for, like, four years? Does Marinette know you’re bi?”

Luka shrugged. “Hasn’t come up.”

“What if she had seen you?” Juleka pressed. “I can’t believe you’d risk things with Marinette after waiting so long to be with her for half an hour of physical gratification with that boy toy.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Luka groaned, setting aside the guitar to peer down at his sister. “When the guy you’ve had a crush on for a couple years blushes and looks up at you nervously and asks you to dance with him, what the hell do you do? There is only one answer to that question.”

“And it should have been, ‘Adrien, I have a girlfriend.’” Juleka’s amber eyes pierced him with their accusations.

“I reminded him of my relationship status when we set the platonic ground rules,” Luka offered, sticking to his guns despite knowing he wasn’t exactly in the right.

Juleka shook her head, pushing herself up to sitting with her back against the wall. “You lied. You were lying to Marinette, to Adrien, and to yourself pretending there was anything platonic about the way you danced with him.”

Luka put his hands up in surrender and went back to his guitar. “Guilty,” he whispered.

They fell silent as Luka returned to his tantalizing tune, expanding upon the twists and turns, remembering Adrien’s body against his own.

“As much as I don’t want you to be with Marinette because she’s going to hurt you, I don’t know if Adrien is any better,” Juleka sighed, flexing and pointing her toes. “There have been a lot of rumors going around about him these past few months.”

Luka clicked his tongue. “Who’s been spreading rumors? You know better than to gossip, Jules.”

She shrugged. “Lila’s the gossip monger in the class. The whole school talks about him, though. He makes it easy.”

“Don’t you guys have better things to discuss?” Luka sniffed, disappointed.

Juleka rolled her eyes. “It’s not the only thing we talk about. We do have lives, you know…. It’s just…he’s been kind of AWOL these past few months. Before, he used to hang out with everyone whenever his father let him, but a couple months ago he started saying that he had plans with his girlfriend. That was fine at first, but he had plans with his girlfriend all the time, and when people would see him with a girl, it would always be a different one. Mylène asked Alya, and Alya said that Adrien was a slut and that he was going out with all these older girls. No one knows how many or which ones he was sleeping with, but…he’d been kind of weird and quiet up to that point. I mean, he was nice whenever he did get to hang out with other people, but all of the sudden he was acting like some rich playboy, and he couldn’t be bothered to make time for the rest of us.”

“I mean, I don’t know him well, but from the time that I’ve spent with him, that doesn’t sound like Adrien,” Luka hummed thoughtfully. “Did anyone ask him about what was going on?”

Juleka shrugged. “No one really got the chance to talk to him. He ran off right after school either for extra curriculars or girlfriends, and during lunch and before school he was always with Alya, Nino, and Marinette. He couldn’t be bothered with anybody else.”

“So…you’re worried that Adrien is some philandering Casanova who’s going to break my heart?” Luka guessed. “Is that your concern?”

Juleka shook her head and shrugged again. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to be concerned about because the guy’s been such a flake these past few months. After dating all those girls, he seemed to be dating some redhead for a while, and then he dated the girl Kim was in love with for, like, a week, and it sounds like he royally screwed her over, and then Adrien turned into a total ghost. Like, he comes into class seconds before the bell, and as soon as class lets out, he disappears. He doesn’t come down to the lunchroom to eat with us, and as soon as school ends for the day, he’s gone. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with that kid, but I don’t think I want my brother involved.”

Luka pursed his lips. “Huh.” He tried to reconcile what he’d heard from his sister with what he had observed of Adrien that evening. “Had anyone considered that he might be going through an emotional crisis and be in need of a friend?”

Juleka drew her knees up to her chest. “Last I heard, the prevailing theory was drugs. Don’t get me wrong, we all liked Adrien, but none of us was really close to him. He’s not an easy person to get close to.”

“Did anyone try?” Luka challenged.

Juleka shook her head. “We tried a few years ago. With his schedule, he doesn’t have a lot of time for close friendships. Recently…well, no one really wants to get caught up in whatever’s going down with him. We all have our own crap to deal with.”

Luka winced, remembering the look of confusion on Adrien’s face as Adrien asked Luka earnestly why Luka would want to be his friend.

Kids were so stupid and self-centered at that age…not that Luka could claim the high ground only two years ahead of them, but…

“It sounds to me like he was drowning and needed someone to pull him out,” Luka muttered as the chords slowly dipped into the minor key.

“That’s what he has Nino and Alya for.” Juleka mumbled.

“And Marinette,” Luka added.

Juleka pushed her hair out of the way to stare at her brother in confusion. “Well, yeah. Before, I guess.”

Luka set aside his guitar to frown at his sister. “Before what?”

Juleka shrugged. “Before whatever went down between them a month ago.”

The hair on the back of Luka’s neck stood up. “What…happened between Adrien and Marinette a month ago?”

Juleka shrugged harder. “No one knows exactly. Nino, Alya, and Marinette won’t talk about it, and, like I said, no one can catch Adrien to talk to him, so…” The crease in Juleka’s brow deepened. “I thought your girlfriend would have mentioned it. Marinette hasn’t said anything about why she and Adrien aren’t talking?”

“They’re not talking,” Luka repeated uncomprehendingly, testing each word on his tongue, tasting it for meaning. “Since when are Marinette and Adrien not talking? The way Marinette talks about him, it sounds like they’re best friends.”

Juleka shook her head slowly, crossing her legs so that they were stacked one on top of the other in fire log pose. “Maybe a month or a little bit longer? They’re all weird around each other.”

Suddenly the room felt unnaturally cold. “How sure are you about this? The way Adrien was talking, everything between them was fine. Like, they’d just talked. He said she’d showed him the new designs she’d just come up with over the weekend, and she’d told him about our date on Tuesday, and she invited him to her graduation party tomorrow. He…”

He had been acting extremely off those last five minutes they’d been together. Luka had felt that something was wrong. The way Adrien had been talking fast, nervously, and the panic attack coming out of nowhere while they were slow dancing…while they were talking about Marinette. After Luka had said he was there with Marinette. After Adrien…had seemed surprised to hear that Luka and Marinette were dating.

Luka winced. “Oh, no. Jules, how sure are you that there’s something wrong between Adrien and Marinette?”

Juleka could only shrug. “About a month ago, there was a rumor that some girl had left Adrien crying on a park bench. A week ago, people started saying that it was Marinette.”

Suddenly Luka remembered what Adrien had said about having an emotional breakdown and having his heart crushed. It all lined up.

“I don’t know if that’s true or not,” Juleka continued, “but all Marinette will say is to leave Adrien alone and that he didn’t do anything wrong. She almost ripped Mylène’s head off for saying something about Adrien, and that got Ivan involved, and—”

“—Adrien is the other guy,” Luka gasped in realization. “Adrien is the guy that Marinette meant when she told me that she was still stuck on someone else, isn’t he?”

Juleka stared at her brother blankly, unimpressed. “Luka, don’t play stupid. You knew Adrien was the guy she meant.”

“I suspected,” Luka corrected. “I did not know. Adrien was one of the possible suspects, and I knew they were doing the will-we-won’t-we thing when I first met them, but…I didn’t want to assume. Marinette didn’t name names, and I…” He shrugged impotently.

Juleka shook her head slowly in reproof. “With Marinette, it has only ever been Adrien.”

“And yet she somehow was the one to break his heart?” Luka muttered, trying but failing to comprehend. “…Did he know I was dating Marinette? Did she tell him?”

Juleka could only give her brother the nth shrug of the night.

“Shit,” Luka hissed, grabbing his phone off of the nightstand. “He couldn’t have known. There is no way he could have been so friendly with the guy who was dating the girl he liked. And I just sprung it on him like that. No wonder he freaked. Shit.”

He opened his latest text conversation with Marinette and typed, “we need to TALK re: adrien”. He followed that up with, “does anyone know if he made it home ok”.

“Who are you texting?” Juleka inquired, transitioning back down onto her stomach.

“Marinette,” Luka grumbled, glaring at his screen.

“Are you going to break up with her?” Juleka hummed in interest.

Luka looked up with a puzzled frown. “Why would I break up with her?”

Juleka rolled her eyes. “She’s in love with Adrien and conveniently left that part out?”

Luka matched his sister’s eyeroll. “She told me she was stuck on someone and asked if I still wanted to date her. I’m the one who said yes. She didn’t want to talk about the other guy; I respected her privacy and the fact that I don’t have a right to her past, even if I am her present. Our relationship is two weeks old. There are things I haven’t told her yet.”

Juleka averted her gaze with a silent pout.

“I’m worried about Adrien.” Luka blew out a frustrated sigh, falling back onto the bed beside his sister. “I shouldn’t have let him go off by himself when I could tell that something wasn’t right. Though, I was probably the last person he wanted to be around in that moment, but…”

Luka stared up at his phone, willing it to buzz with good news. He contemplated texting Adrien himself—he still had the number from when he’d given Adrien guitar lessons, provided the number hadn’t changed in two years—but he didn’t think Adrien wanted to hear from him, given the situation, even if Luka was only trying to determine if Adrien was safe.

“meet pont des arts tomorrow ten?” greeted Luka instead. Marinette then added, “alya saw him get in his car” and “ninos trying to reach him”.

Luka turned his head to glance at his sister. “Do you have Nino’s number?”

Juleka dug out her phone and opened up her contacts. “Maybe from a project or something? …Here.” Juleka handed the mobile over.

Luka typed the number into his own phone and hit dial, getting up to pace as he waited for Nino to pick up. He wasn’t kept waiting long.

“Adrien?” Nino asked frantically.

“Luka,” Luka sighed. “Have you heard anything from him?”

“He’s not answering,” Nino blew out a long, anxious breath. “I’m on my way to his house.”

“Shit,” Luka repeated for emphasis, running a hand roughly through his hair and pulling.

“Tell me about it,” Nino grumbled.

Luka could hear Nino’s feet slapping the pavement in the background.

“…So whose idea was it not to tell me about the Marinette-Adrien minefield situation? That would have been useful knowledge,” Luka hissed, taking his frustration out on Nino. “Better yet, whose idea was it not to tell Adrien?”

“Dude,” Nino growled, “talk to your girlfriend…. But maybe not tonight. She’s kind of rough. Alya said she and Adrien had a ‘confrontation’ after Adrien ran into you.”

The anger and annoyance quickly drained from Luka. He stopped pacing. “Is Marinette okay?”

Nino shook his head and sighed. “No freaking idea. She’s pretending she’s okay, but she doesn’t want to talk to Alya about it, so… Listen, Mec. It’s gonna be a long night for me. After I lay siege to the Agreste Mansion to make sure Adrien’s okay, I’m headed to Marinette’s. Can you sit tight, and I’ll text you as soon as I know something?”

“Yeah,” Luka whispered, suddenly exhausted. “That would be great. Thanks, Nino. Just…text me as soon as you know he made it home safe…and if Marinette needs me.”

“All right. I—Hold on. I just got a text.”

Luka heard Nino’s footsteps slow to a stop as Nino looked down at his screen and muttered under his breath, “Monsieur Lahiffe, thank you for your concern. Adrien has retired for the evening and will contact you at a later date.”

Nino snorted and was suddenly back with Luka. “The text was from one of Adrien’s parentals. It looks like he went to bed and dropped his phone off with them. Part of me wants to break into his room and see for myself that he’s okay, but…I guess I’ll let him sleep for now and check in first thing tomorrow. I’m gonna head over to Marinette’s and relieve Alya. Was there anything else you needed, Luka?”

“No,” Luka sighed again. “Thank you, Nino. Sorry to bug you.”

With a shrug, Nino turned around, headed back towards the bakery. “No big, Dude,” he assured. “Night.”

“Night,” Luka mumbled, letting the phone drop to his side as he trudged back over to sit on the bed.

Juleka frowned interrogatively.

“Apparently Marinette and Adrien had some sort of ‘confrontation’,” Luka explained. “Adrien is at home, and Marinette’s with friends.”

Juleka nodded slowly. “And you’re sure that this is something that you want to be involved with? These two?”

Luka picked his guitar up and resumed strumming thoughtfully.

“…Why can’t you get back together with that guy you were dating a couple months ago?” Juleka groaned. “He was nice and stable.”

“Baptiste realized he likes girls,” Luka reported without missing a beat.

“And the girl you were with before that? The art student?” Juleka tried.

“Claire also realized that she likes girls,” Luka snickered, amused. “Apparently I have that effect on people.”

Juleka pursed her lips, listening to the new tune Luka had started on. It sounded like loneliness and rivers and moonlight. It didn’t sound like Luka’s personal melancholy, though.

“I’m worried about you,” Juleka muttered.

“Don’t be,” Luka stressed. “I’ve survived breakups and messy relationships before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m durable, Jules…and…Marinette and Adrien have always been my biggest what-ifs. My crushes on them don’t ever seem to go away, even when I don’t see much of them for months and months. Maybe this is good.”

“How can this be good? This looks like a train wreck,” Juleka grumbled.

“Maybe it does go down in flames,” Luka replied with a nonchalant dispassion. “But then I can stop what-ifing myself and maybe move on and find the person I’m supposed to be with. Things aren’t inherently good or bad, Jules; they’re just experiences. You have to work to find the good in things. That’s all I’m trying to do.”

“Forgive me for being a pessimist,” Juleka scoffed, sitting up and pulling out her phone. “…Are you and Marinette going to talk about Adrien?”

Luka nodded. “Tomorrow at ten, before her graduation party.”

“Are you going to tell her about your feelings for Adrien?” Juleka pressed. “Marinette is my friend, and what you did tonight made me really uncomfortable. You’re my brother, and I don’t want to rat you out, but if something like this happens again…”

“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb?” Luka mused. “It’s okay if that’s what you decide.”

“Just don’t cheat on Marinette, okay?” Juleka huffed, piling her hair on top of her head and then letting it fall.

“I wouldn’t cheat on Marinette,” Luka assured, finally looking up from his guitar and meeting his sister’s eyes. “What happened tonight with Adrien was a fluke. He probably hates me now, so don’t worry about it.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Juleka muttered down at her phone, scrolling through the pictures she had taken at the party. “He looked pretty into you. I was surprised because I thought he was totally straight, but…what if he doesn’t hate you?”

Luka quirked an eyebrow.

Juleka held up her phone.

The bottom fell out of his stomach, and his face blanched.

As he flipped through the pictures, studying the images of Adrien and himself, his entire body felt warm. He bit down softly on his bottom lip.

“Where are your hands in this one?” Juleka chuckled.

Somewhere they shouldn’t be.

“J-Just on his thighs.”

“And where are his hands in this one?” Juleka hummed, arching an eyebrow in suspicion.

In Luka’s back pockets.

Luka’s face flushed. “At the small of my back. Juleka, you need to erase these. These shouldn’t exist.”

Shaking her head, Juleka swiped her phone back.

“You can’t just take pictures of people without their consent like this. Adrien’s father could sue you,” Luka hissed, trying to snatch back the mobile.

Juleka rolled her eyes, stuffing the phone down the front of her top. “Isn’t that just if I publish them? These are staying on my phone unless I see fit to send them to Marinette as evidence.”

“Juleka,” Luka warned. “Don’t. No one can see those. Erase them now.”

“Nope.” She let the syllable go with a petulant pop.

“Erase them, or I’m going to tell Mom that you’re sleeping with Rose,” Luka threatened.

Juleka stared at him, unimpressed. “Luc, I talked to Mom about it before I started sleeping with Rose. If you think you can bully or blackmail me into deleting those pictures, you’re wrong. The only way you can save your own hide is by not cheating on Marinette again.”

Luka forced himself to take a deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair and slowly let it out. “Jules, this isn’t about me.”

She gave him a dubious look as she waited for him to elaborate.

“This is about Adrien. Look, you and I, in the grand scheme of things, we’re nobodies. Very few people care whom we’re sleeping with. The populous at large doesn’t care if we date boys or girls or what. It’s not like that for Adrien,” Luka explained patiently but emphatically, trying to get his point across. “Say you send those photos to Marinette. What if she sends them to Alya? What if Alya sends them to one or two other people? What if people start talking about this? You said there were already rumors going around about Adrien. What if someone gets their hands on these photos and posts them online? There’s no going back from there. Sure, you only meant to send them to one person, but stuff like this has a way of getting out of hand quickly.”

Juleka averted her eyes, looking down at the bedspread as Luka made his case.

“Adrien is internationally famous. Sure, it’s not rare for a male model to be gay or bi, but something tells me that Adrien’s father isn’t an open-minded guy, and I doubt this is how Adrien would want his father to find out…if he ever intends to tell his father at all…if this is actually even a thing,” Luka sighed. “Jules, Adrien is going through a rough time right now. He just got his heart broken, and he was a little tipsy tonight. When he asked me to dance…he was so nervous. I didn’t get the impression he had ever flirted with a guy before. When I said that I had thought he was straight, he said that he thought he was. Obviously, he’s still questioning and trying to figure himself out, and what happened with me was an experiment. Do you really want to risk burning him like this the first time he tests the waters?”

Juleka’s shoulders slowly squeezed up to meet her ears.

“I mean, you remember what it was like when you first started to think you had romantic feelings for Rose,” Luka pushed. “You remember how scared and confused you were, and that was even after I had come out as bi two years before and you already knew you had a loving, supportive family. Can you even imagine what it must be like for Adrien trying to figure himself out with the media always breathing down his neck waiting to jump on him for every little thing? Can you imagine going through what you went through without your family’s support? Because I’m not convinced that Adrien really has anyone backing him through this.”

Luka took a deep breath, the urgency leaving his voice. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to hate me now that he knows about me and Marinette, but…on the off chance that he doesn’t, I’d like to be there to support him. If he does decide he’s bi, I want to make things easier on him than they were on me. If you’ll remember, I didn’t have any gay or bi role models or mentors to help me and answer questions when I was figuring out who I was. If he doesn’t hate me, I’d like to be there for him as a friend.”

Juleka took her phone out of her top and tossed it on the bed beside Luka. “Look through and see if there are any you want to save for yourself as a kind of souvenir from your ‘one-night stand’ with Adrien Agreste before you delete them.”

Luka picked up the phone and slowly scrolled through, committing each one to memory. He selected only one, the most innocent, and forwarded it to himself.

Adrien had one hand on Luka’s shoulder while Luka’s left hand rested lightly on Adrien’s hip. Luka was smiling fondly as Adrien began to laugh, his mouth open in a wide, toothy grin, his eyes beginning to scrunch up cutely. It didn’t necessarily have to be romantic. It could just as easily have been two friends sharing an inside joke. Only Luka knew what he’d said to make Adrien laugh like that.

Luka deleted the rest and then cleared them out of Juleka’s recently deleted bin before handing his sister her phone back with a solemn, “Thanks, Jules.”

With the final shrug of the night, Juleka got to her feet and headed for the door. “He was always such a cupcake before whatever happened five months ago,” she muttered as she went. “He doesn’t deserve bad things to happen to him.”

She paused in the doorway, looking back over her shoulder. “Behave, Luc. Prove me wrong and be happy with Marinette, okay?”

“Doing my best,” Luka assured.

The door closed behind Juleka, and Luka was left alone with his thoughts. He fiddled around on his guitar for another half hour before he finally turned in for the night.

Sleep eluded him.

He tossed and he turned, and when he eventually managed to drift off, smiles, laughter, the warmth of another body, the secondhand smell of bakery, and two distinct pairs of eyes: one green and one blue haunted his dreams.

#Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Luka Couffaine #Juleka Couffaine #Adrien Agreste #Mikau's Writings #There's a Daisy

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Umbria

He’s looking at you @dirtystyles! Be the world’s best fic commenter, get custom made smut!

A halene drabble in the Italian sunlight.

“Umbria”

"What are you doing this weekend?" The text comes through from a known number very late on a Tuesday night a month after tour ends.

Helene's mind starts racing. He said he wanted to do that with her in Paris, she is in Paris.

Is he coming to see her?

She would love to see him. It's only been a month. It's been a whole month.

He didn't say much in LA, just rocked her socks off, mentioned doing it again, or at least wanting to, and then she got on a plane and posted pics for him that were so bittersweet it was like drinking real hot chocolate in Mexico. She's trying to think of  a response. Something funny, and that lets her appear available but not desperate.

If those merde gray dots didn't appear every time she would just write something out and then erase it until it sounded right. But before she can decide between, 'Nothing set in concrete', or 'you?' another message pops through. He had his grey dots turned off, how did he do that? That was handy!

"Come to Italy?" he put a winky emoji at the end, so she flirted back.

"Bologna?" she had major nostalgia for Bologna, vibed herself to oblivion with her face in her comforter to remember the feeling.

"No, we've done Bologna. Let's try Umbria..." her heart raced. He wanted to kiss her everywhere, everywhere it seemed. But-

"Why Umbria?"

"I have a job for you." Her boss man, former/current lover sent. Oh, she deflated, a job. Well, things had been quiet, not really, but certainly in comparison to the whirlwind her last nine months had been.

"Ok, how do you want me to book the flight, what exact dates?'"

"Already booked it." She'd be pissed, but she knew somebody else had done it at his nod. He'd pitched an idea, nobody had a better one, or big enough balls to counter him, he got a yellow light from her, nod, boom, done.

In some ways it was very good to be Harry Styles, in others it was a lot of pressure. But he was easing into himself as he was allowed to be just that, himself, and follow his own lead, build his own brand.

She'd watched it over the course of tour, him stepping back from social media and his sex appeal and his cheek to find it again, anew, as he got more comfortable. And she got to be his eyes, or lens. It was a rush.

A rush she'd been missing acutely. That's what had been missing. Something was playing on the back of her mind most days. She also may miss the family they had all become, the Harry Styles Circus. Full of freaks and music geeks, all kind and lovely, from the top down.

She was always gonna go to Italy.  So she'd better get herself together, her go bag was empty right now, she had nothing for a few weeks when her next tour picked up. It needed to be stocked. Maybe slightly differently than her average weekend job.

As she packed, well, it was still hot in Italy she assumed, and he said weekend, and work, but gave her very little details, so she slipped in a few things, her trainers, trackies, a tank. And also a few sundresses, some lacy pink things. In case.

She'd let it be known she wanted him, but follow his lead. Helene loved being on his lead.

A lot could happen in several weeks though. She'd been busy, dated, been dicked, been disappointed. That was down to Harry, too. As her life had sorta revolves around him for a while, and her pussy seemed to want to too.

Henri was a frequent partner. Safe, fun, no drama. She'd come back from a disappointing date and called her fall back friend. They were both casual about it and could hook up and remain friends. They'd been doing it since art school. It had always scratched her itch.

But, his eyes were blue, a pretty blue, and he didn't have dimples, and his dirty blond hair was straight and though she'd always loved his body, he was softer than she'd like, and bulky above her.

His dick too. It didn't feel like it used to. Like more than enough. She didn't come, and dammit, she expected to now.

Harry might have ruined her.

She knew no other tour would feel as crazy beautiful while also family fun after that one- but she didn't know he'd risen other expectations too.

Helene impatiently waited for Italian summer.

The flight was so quick, she was stumbling off the plane before she'd finished her glass of wine. And there was a man with a placard with her name. She got the hotel without an agenda though. There had been in the past a printed itinerary at the desk or in her email. Neither were present. Helene was alone in an unknown place, with no work yet, so she did what she always did, grabbed her camera, her wallet and walked.

Umbria had been idyllic from the air, Perugia awaited and promised to be a treasure. The city felt like a fortress, there on a hill with its stone walls. They must be hiding goodies behind all those rocks. She was gonna find them.

The streets were old, cobbled, like the oldest parts of Paris. Her trainers were a good choice, any kind of heel and she'd be on her ass. And walking the medieval streets were a good choice too, she wouldn't even want to be in an cab, definitely not a Nike. She'd have to tell Harry. No handy face masks in Italy though when forced to walk. But the smells and tastes might be hindered by a mask. Those were golden.

And she found treasure, red gold in a tiny wine shop. She bought a bottle to ship to Mitch and Sarah. He'd love it. And a bottle for herself since she already loved it. She'd have a glass now. Helene didn't save experiences. She tried to live them as the came. Take the picture now, eat the eclair, drink the wine, fuck the boss. These were her raison d'etre. It's how she found herself alone in Umbria on two day's notice.

And there was a lot to find to capture momentarily in Umbria. Beauty in the air, literally. The light glowed. The air here danced, the sun was a presence, everything had a golden hue.

Whatever she was shooting would be like a constant golden hour, less filters and fiddling needed. It made her excited.

She took so many pictures come for herself, waited on Instagram. Was flipping through them as she walked into the hotel.

"Helene!" She heard Jeff's voice go up and her feet picked up speed quickly. Where Jeff was Harry was, or vice versa. Almost always.

"Jeff!" She kissed his cheeks and he bear hugged her, and he caught her looking for Harry immediately.

"He's already up in his room, this is kinda an incognito trip for now. We don't want too many people to know where we are exactly. Did he tell you that?" Jeff knew she liked her instastories.

"No, but I was using the big guns, the light is so pretty here. I didn't really use the phone, or take any video. I was caught up, lucky." She smirked and he smiled back.

"So what are we being sneaky about?" She asked when Jeff got distracted handling some logistics.

"Well, Harry's got this Gucci thing."

Helene made a face, then what was she here for? Gucci would have contracted their own photog.

"You're here because Harry requested you for behind the scenes stuff, in case he wants to use it for his next, who knows, he seems to have an idea." Jeff was good at mind reading, face reading.

Part of Helene hoped the idea was to fuck her in a new place, but it would be weird to be paid for it. Not so weird she wouldn't do it, but strange.

"I'm gonna go to my room, what's the plan for dinner?"

"Harry mentioned he wanted to sleep," they both chuckled, or course. "so I may go out, may just do room service."

"K, if you want company?" She said while she headed to the stairs.

"I'll give you a shout."

Her room was lovely, and she ran a bath to ease all the muscles from climbing the hilly streets. Once she was out, she stepped onto her balcony in her robe, she loved a good hotel robe and caught sight of curly hair and wind of garlic from the next one over. She and Harry shared a wall. He was leaning out over the balcony watching the sun go down and Helene pulled her phone from her pocket and took a picture.

By the second one, his neck had lolled around and he was looking into her lens. He wasn't smiling, not even a smirk, his lips gaped just a bit and a slick of wetness caught the light.

She caught that on camera too.

When she put the phone down, slid it against her hipbone to find the square pocket of the robe she hadn't tied tightly, she kept her eyes on him. His dimples grew then as he smiled at her and she was sorry she had put the phone away.

He looked dreamy in the Umbrian light.

"Hiya Helene, have a nice bath?" He smirked then, let his hot eyes slide over her chest, if it wasn't already red, she was sure it was now.

"Oui, it's a really big tub, you seen it?"

"Big enough for two?" His cheek heated hers.

"Not sure."

"We could test it? If you wanted..."

"Think we'd make it that far?" Helene moved her shoulders back, felt wind caress a nipple.

He looked down. "No."

"I bought a bottle of wine at this beautiful shop. I could show you tomorrow."

"Or you can come over right now. We can drink it after our bath." He bit his lip. And hers parted.

"I just had a bath."  She reminded him.

"It's a ruse, I want you to come over so I can take off your robe, Helene." His hand ran over his baggy track pants, her eyes followed, they'd lingered on his face, it was enough to wet her thighs. "Bring the wine and yourself, leave the robe if you're brave enough."

If she was brave enough? She was plenty brave. She undid the poor robe and relaxed her shoulders down. She wondered how she looked in the light.

"Don't move." He pulled his phone out and her back arched. He looked at the screen. "Now come."

She almost did.

Helene turned around and grabbed the bottle of wine and her key, carried them in one hand so she could knock.

There was no need. He had the door open and an impressed look on his face. "Ballsy!" he said with a wiggle of his mouth.

She looked at his crotch, "you'd know."

He canted his chin to the side. "Can I say what an absolute pleasure it is to see you, Helene."

Her nipples hardened to diamonds, round cut, from his gaze. Her knees were drunk. "Yeah, boss man, you're a sight for sore eyes."

"Hopefully sore thighs too." And he reached out and caught her hand and pulled her to him. His other hand caught the long hair at the back of her neck and cushioned her press against the door. He tasted like Italy, like basil and decadence and she lifted a naked leg to wrap around his clothed body. He leaned back from her and his chin caught her mouth, she opened her lips over it and he kissed the tip of her nose. It was a sweet moment before he picked her up so fast she was lightheaded.

He eased back on the couch and spread her body over the top of him. With her lips against him, her toes barely passed his knees. The immediate groping grip over her ass and his hands splitting her thighs around his hips had her forgetting how unequally they matched in height. Because the way his bulge swelled to fill the negative space between her thighs was all that was important right now. He rocked her over his hips and she unbuttoned his shirt hastily.

"Don't rip the Gucci!" He cautioned with a twinkle in his eye.

"Alessandro will give you more tomorrow," She thumbed his bottom lip.

He bit it and said, "there are these grey trousers I want."

"Harry, can we take off your trousers instead."

"Oui!" He pushed down his pants, put his fingers in her mouth which she dutifully licked, wet his tip, and spread her open. She slid down with the help of the grip he'd resumed on her cheeks.

"Ugh!" She got out when she got over the tip, raised back up over the snap of it. Tucked her hips to brush her spot inside.

When she tried to do the shallow penetration a third time, Harry shook his head, "uh-uh." and used the hands full of ass he had to push her down to the last inch.

"Fuck!" She clenched at the fullness and had barely adjusted around it when he set her rocking.

"C'mon, Helene. Take it."

Her response was to make him sit up, so she could lean back with a grip on his neck and use his hold to ride him at a gallop. "Like that?"

"Yeah, that's fucking perfect. Too perfect!" He stopped her pace. He grunted and let her bounce over him until he suddenly grabbed her hips to still them. "Hmmm, M'gonna come like that."

"C'mon, Harry, take it," She bit his bottom lip, licked the indent.

"What's gotten into you?"

"All of you, apparently!" God, he was fun in bed.

"Yeah, can you handle more?"

She narrowed eyes at him and he laughed.

Harry unseated her and slid her over his face. The full flat tongue over the ripe redness he'd exited made her pull up. That was a lot of sensation. He'd just pulled her down onto his tipped tongue, seemed to have no qualms with her motion putting his mouth at back door level. The wiggle of his tongue and the slide over her perineum and up under her hood made her shiver. "Like that!" She begged and he gave her a couple more head waggles, before splitting his fingers to fill both empty places and sucking her to orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck! Yes!" He had the craziest hit rate, she always came with him. No wonder everybody else previously adequate was now lacking.

She was still shaking when he slid her over his weeping erection, and she whined when he passed her over it a couple times, responded by gripping his hip, then got hold of his cock to angle it up, so he couldn't graze her sensitive clit again. She needed to get him inside again, that she could take.

He laughed at her move.

"Fuck you!"

"Be my guest, love." He challenged, and she leaned her body back, grabbed his knees and didn't stop when he needed her to. Just fucked him and her to completion at a rough deep rock. She'd have laid back over his legs when her arms went out had he not caught her.

The bath was big enough for two.

And the wine was so good he wanted her to show him where she bought it after the shoot the next day. "I want more of that when I don't need to worry how I'll photograph for it!"

She'd agreed to see him wine drunk and silly.

And the next day, after seeing his softer side, arms full of baby animals and her eyes full of hearts, Harry got the grey trousers and they took them for a walk around Perugia.

He did look lovely in the light, and she knew he'd noticed that she hadn't worn panties just by the look he cast down her lens. Her thighs'd be wet from it alone, let alone the hand full of rings she'd felt the clink of on her ass yesterday afternoon, but the smirks and smug look he kept giving her when she took his pictures were making her ready to find an alley, bench, streetcorner, side walk cafe table, wherever. He looked as ready too.

Her suspicion was confirmed when after a stiff breeze as she was walking in front of him in her sundress, she'd heard him groan. He'd caught up to her, his hand coasting over her ass cheeks beneath the fluttering hem.

She'd copied his signature smirk. And he'd gaped.

The next hour was a game of grab ass she loved. When they were anywhere near cover, his hand was up her dress, and she was skating away out of reach.

"Hands to yourself, boss." She'd tsked.

"Nope, don't wanna." He'd pinched her cheek then, the right low one.

Helene turned her back and brush her back against his front, but took off before he could get his hands on her.

Every time he got close, she let him touch, or she'd get close and cope her own feel, leave herself open to his hands, beringed fingers.

He got one between her legs in the back on the wine shop and she stepped on his vans to stop him. Bit her lip to keep from moaning.

Harry had them open the bottle and they gave him glasses, because he'd shipped 10 bottle, their entire stock to the azoff's and Winston's and his mum.

He'd asked where a good private place to enjoy it and a view was too.

He was boiling when they found the isolated picnic table. But he'd sat down so she could get his magnetism on film.

Taking the picture had her rolling and popping too.

The wood table top was low, but Harry hardly complained when he had to stay in a squat to get the right angle. All that exercise had to have another benefit.

She was the happy recipient.

She'd remember Umbria for more than just the light.

She'd be taking splinters home with her.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #halene #umbria

[smokingtomas]

Apricity

Sorina Week - Day 4: Winter

For all that it’s worth now, you were worth it in the end For all off your worth, I would lapse and fall again.

One thing Nakiri Erina has learned from this trip is none but one thing: winter in Iceland is really, really cold- she almost wishes for hell.

She could’ve cursed her heart out for the client that paid her a few hundred thousand yen to travel to Reykjavik in winter just to taste test some brand new recipes, or how the thick snow covers almost all surface of the land, but she didn’t- because she actually enjoyed the freshness of the food and how quite charming the sight is.

That leaves her to the fact that these freezing days are the days where most stores are closed and the roads are quiet to the point where it’s eerie to walk by yourself, and it just so happens to be her free day, so she has no choice but to cuddle up behind the sheet in her oversized sweater with room service ready to be dialed anytime she wants.

With steaming cup of hot chocolate and stacks of shoujo manga she has reread on her bedside, she rests her back against the fluffy pillows. She occasionally would glance outside, where snow is slowly cascading through the grayish sky, but when she mostly doesn’t, her attention is solely on her iPad.

Sitting in her photo gallery is a selfie- a selfie Soma took with her cooking in the background. Typical pictures appear for a few swipes until her finger stops at a video he recorded.

‘What’s cookin’ cutie?’ He teased, shooting the ragù she was working on.

‘Shut up. I’m standing near a knife.’

At the sound of his giggle ringing through, she smiles a little. He knows all too well she hates it when he plays with her when she’s cooking.

Another video plays when she swipes once more.

Erina can recall the moment she recorded this was when they had a little too much rosé on one Tuesday night, resulting in Soma to pass out with the most unpleasant expression on the sofa and her chuckling in the background while zooming in on him.

She brings one hand to her mouth when the screen shows her putting on some whipped cream above his open palm, before she tickled his nose with a feather, and finding herself unable to control her amusement as he aggressively patted his face with a mountainful of white foam.

‘The fuck?!’ when he groaned, she laughed.

He brought her face to his and smeared the whipped cream all over her tickled features until the tablet dropped to the carpet.

She sighs as she tucks the iPad on her chest- fine, she… kind of misses him.

It’s weird how of all human being walking on this planet earth, she has to fall for someone so obnoxious, so irritatingly confident, and oh-so-wonderfully weird.

Maybe it’s his boyish charm he wears like a second skin. Or it could be his irrelevant banters she hates, or the cuddles he provides when the rain comes- if he’s around, at least. Possibly with those soft yet convincing golden orbs that tells her every word she wants to hear, and with him not even saying anything.

Disrupting her over romanticized thoughts is her suddenly vibrating iPhone, and she almost jumps when Soma’s contact photo pops up. What are the odds.

“Where on earth have you been?” She scolds, contrasting her actual feeling.

“Uh… Hello to you too?”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries and just answer the question.” Erina’s referring to the last unreplied text she sent yesterday.

“We had some troubles with the interior designer for Shino’s pop-up in Bali.” He says, stifling a yawn, “It’s been quite hectic juggling the language barrier with Master Shinomiya’s endless phone calls. Sorry for worrying you too much.”

“What? I-I’m not worried.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re very chill about it either.” Sōma satires, “How’s Iceland?”

“Boring. I’m stuck in the hotel. It’s snowing and the stores are closed.” Erina gets out of the sheet to adjust the heater, secretly glad he turns the conversation around.

“Must be your day off, eh?”

“Mhm. You’re lucky to have some sunlight where you’re at.”

As her fingers graze the cold window, she realizes there’s a pause at his end, “Uh… yeah, it kinda rains a lot, though.”

“Still, it must be much warmer there.”

“Bet you want me to warm you up so bad, don’t ya?”

“Only in your dreams, Yukihira-kun.” She rolls her eyes- even the image of him putting on that smug face irritates her. “How’s the pop-up going?”

Sōma chuckles, as if he knows too well she actually does. “85% in, and it’s fully booked this weekend. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Hmpf, don’t get too excited. Exposé is always fully booked even on weekdays.”

“And here I thought being your boyfriend means getting less mean treatments.”

“And that’s where you’re completely mistaken.”

After a smother of giggle coming from both of them, another pause is present. Not necessarily an awkward pause, but as she sees her reflection in the mirror pushing her blonde hair back, she thinks she enjoys knowing he’s on the other line, just breathing.

“Do you miss me?” He suddenly asks.

“Huh? W-Where did that come from?”

“Dunno. I mean, we haven’t seen each other for some time ‘cause of work, so… in a way, I kinda do?”

She stones. It may be her tsundere side taking over yet again, but for some reason she just find it hard still to tell him the truth.

But… if she could ever tell him, she’d tell him she misses him so bad she’d cry. She’d tell him she’d miss him by her side that his hoodie doesn’t cut it anymore. She’d even tell him that she can’t hold it together anymore if she can’t see him right this second.

“Nakiri?”

His voice snaps her out of the breath she’d been holding, “I- we agreed at the start of this, Yukihira. Our work comes first. The world doesn’t stop turning just for us to cuddle in the corner, and you probably need to go and make another call in 5 minutes with Shinomiya-san.”

“So… you don’t miss me?”

“I-It’s not–” The sound of the doorbell cuts her sentence, “Hold on, it’s the room service. I need to scold this one.”

As she rushes to the door and turns the doorknob, who stands before her is not the room service guy whom she’s prepared to lecture for her long-awaited croissant, but all she knows is that it will take her more than a second to adjust her sight and align it with her mind.

No croissant…. But red… gold… covered in coat.

And when it finally does, her jaw drops, and her breath has been taken away.

“You sure you don’t miss me?”

A/N: A drabble I created for the 4th day of @sorinaweek: Winter! Still related to Akai Ito, but I thought this would fit well.

Set after XXIV

Part 1 // Part 2 // playlist

#shokugeki no soma #shokugeki no souma #sorina #soueri #sorinaweek2017 #soueriweek2017 #yukihira soma #yukihira souma #nakiri erina #soma x erina #soueriweek #sorinaweek

[imaginedreamwrite]

Taste Test Tuesday

Where Alpha Ari & his little Luna are tasting potential wedding cakes & he has to feed her every type. He’s so excited about the wedding & maybe things get smutty

“Sweetpea, would you like five layers or four?” Ari poses the question to you but finds you distracted by edible flowers that are so detailed they look like they’ve been plucked from the stems.

“Luna, love…” Ari calls you again, reaching his hand out toward yours.

“Sorry, they’re so pretty.” You grasped one of the flowers and plucked it from the tray, resting it on your palm.

“Mr. Levinson, if your Luna likes…we could add an array of these flowers along the side.” The baker and the owner of the shop had marked a few notes on the sketchpad, her head ducked.

“Sweetpea,” Ari’s thumb brushed against your knuckles, his soft crooning stealing your attention, “flowers?”

“Definitely,” you agreed, nodding your head while chewing the edible flower, “they’re so good! And they’re so lifelike.”

“And what kind of flowers are you having for your wedding?” The baker questioned, tapping her pen against the notepad.

“Orchids, lilies, Stephanolis, ivy and roses.” You were speaking while digging your phone out of your pocket then swiping through the pictures until you came across the arrangement you’d wanted.

“That’s beautiful, what a lovely choice.” With an agreed upon set of flowers, the baker had clasped her pen against her paper and then slowly stood. “I’ll leave you to the samples, enjoy yourself and let me know when you’re ready for your choice.”

“Do you like chocolate, little luna?” Ari held up a piece to your lips, watching you as you took a bite and hummed from the flavour.

“Chocolate and mint,” you raised your hand to your lips and covered your mouth, to stop the crumbs from falling to the table, “its good.”

“But you don’t love it.” Ari moved onto the next, reaching for a lemon raspberry combination, the icing thick and taking the appearance of aged paper.

“You don’t need to keep feeding me, Ari.”

“Yes I do, little luna.” Ari repeated the process, holding it up to your lips and waiting until you took a bite.

As you were still chewing Ari leaned in and kissed you, swiping his tongue against your lips to clean leftover icing. The moment, the affectionate act was shiver inducing and your simple quake had Ari smirking against your mouth.

“Sweetpea, you have any idea how hungry you make me?” He tipped your head and searched your face. “Mm?”

“I liked the lemon raspberry.” Its all you could do, all you could say to Ari’s bold statement.”

“Then its what we’ll get.” He crooned and stole another kiss, endearing you to him in a wondrous manner. “Now, about my dessert…”

“Ari..?” You wondered, squeaking in surprise when he scooped you into his arms and began carting you away.

“I’ll tell them our order later.”

#werewolf!Ari Levinson and Sweetpea #werewolf!Ari Levinson x luna!Reader #taste test Tuesday #taste test Tuesday drabble

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 44

Hey~ It’s Saturday, so it’s time for Fanfic Progress Update! Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure Gone Mini AND the next chapter of Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 32 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 18th of December. Chapter 33 is 3/4 done and is scheduled for 8th of January.

I update this fic every three weeks on Wednesdays.

—–

Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Husk is just your everyday demon, minding his own business and living his afterlife mostly in self-caused misery. He’s been at it for about ten years when he rather abruptly finds himself on the Radio Demon’s radar. Suddenly his life becomes a lot more interesting. For fuck’s sake, he did not ask for this bullshit. Alastor/Husk.

Progress: Chapter 4 is the current latest chapter, and was published on 27th of December. Chapter 5 will be published on 3rd of January. Chapters 6-13 are also ready and waiting. About half of chapter 14 is written as well. The final chapter count will be either 16 or 17, so yay for more chapters! No progress since the last update because Christmas time was busy.

I update this fic every Friday. This may change to twice a week (Tuesday and Friday) once I get the whole thing written out and no longer have to reserve writing time for it.

—–

Drunk Alastor (workname)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Roles are reversed in many ways when a drunk Alastor knocks on Husk’s door and has no intention of going to his own room for the night. Why yes, the author has one specific goal to get to here (no, not that one, eww), and you guys are going to love it, mwahaha! Oneshot, Alastor/Husk.

Progress: I’d say this is… maybe 2/3rds done. Or at least half done. It’s a long oneshot anyway. No progress since the last update. I’ll get back to this soon enough now that I’m less busy.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Possibly worth staying for (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Radiohusk that makes me question my life choices (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here are the promised sneak-peeks into Mini and Afterlife. (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fics themselves due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Link and Sidon woke up nice and early, well rested and eager to face the day. They ate a hearty breakfast on a bench near the marketplace with Link taste-testing the local specialities – super expensive roasted spider leg for one – and Sidon mostly eating from his own stash, as there was nothing that would satisfy his hunger available. They hoped that the town at the entrance of the Lost Woods would have a better selection. After all, the forest there was all misty and damp, so frogs were a likely find.

After they were done eating, they headed to the library.

Librari was sorting books that had been left in the return box overnight, or had possibly been brought in this morning by the early birds. She looked up when they entered, and smiled widely.

"Good morning, Link, Sidon", she said, then blinked rapidly a few times before bonking her forehead slightly with the side of her fist and proceeding to sign the same thing.

Afterlife

It took a few weeks before Husk heard from Alastor again. He didn't fool himself for a second into believing that they were done, but he did appreciate the thinking time. And think he did. It was still difficult to grasp that the Radio Demon was honestly committed to being friends with a random nobody like him. But he had made it abundantly clear that he was, and that there were no strings attached. No bodily harm was threatened; Alastor even went out of his way to reassure him of his safety. No sneaky deals were made without his consent; Alastor's attitude heavily implied that he wouldn't even suggest one at this point and Husk would have to go out of his way to request one if he felt like being the biggest fool in Hell. No offers to help Husk rise in social standing or some shit were implied; Alastor simply seemed to want a friend, not a business partner or a henchman. Husk hadn't made any moves to lick the Radio Demon's boot either; at least not any more than what he had initially felt was necessary to ensure his safety, and Alastor had dispelled that notion at the end of the last visit. So, what was left really did seem like a genuine attempt at friendship. It was fucking baffling.

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3    FFnet    Purple Crayon    Ko-fi

#Fanfic progress update

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 45

Woot! It’s Saturday, and that means Fanfic Progress Update! Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure Gone Mini AND the next chapter of Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 32 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 18th of December. Chapter 33 is finished and will be posted on 8th of January, which is the next Wednesday. Chapter 34 has been started.

I update this fic every three weeks on Wednesdays.

—–

Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Husk is just your everyday demon, minding his own business and living his afterlife mostly in self-caused misery. He’s been at it for about ten years when he rather abruptly finds himself on the Radio Demon’s radar. Suddenly his life becomes a lot more interesting. For fuck’s sake, he did not ask for this bullshit. Alastor/Husk.

Progress: Chapter 5 is the current latest chapter, and was published on 3rd of January. Chapter 6 will be published on 7th of January, and chapter 7 on 10th of January. The rest of the chapters are done and waiting for their turn; the final count is 16.

I update this fic every Tuesday and Friday now!

—–

Afterlife the Complementary Text (workname)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): As the title says, this will be what amounts to a complementary text to Afterlife. You could call it a sequel or a side story as well, and not be completely wrong. Every chapter of Afterlife is vital to the story: they bring the plot forward, each introduces a new development, each has a specific purpose for being in the story. The ones in this one, though? Slice of life chapters that go in-between the main story, enhancing it. An interesting incident is mentioned in the main story? It may just appear in this one. These are the ideas that couldn’t fit in Afterlife, despite being fun, because they would have counted as filler chapters in it.

Progress: Nothing has been written yet, but I do have a list of ideas. Currently it has nine items, but some may get combined to fit into one chapter instead, if the idea isn’t enough to cover a full chapter. Or maybe I’ll simply do short chapters as necessary. I don’t know yet. The first two items on the list would go between chapters 7 and 8, so I doubt I have enough time to write them and start posting this fic side-by side with Afterlife, like I kind of want to. So, we shall see if I’ll start posting this only after Afterlife is done, or if I work something else out once I have something written.

—–

Drunk Alastor (workname)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Roles are reversed in many ways when a drunk Alastor knocks on Husk’s door and has no intention of going to his own room for the night. Why yes, the author has one specific goal to get to here (no, not that one, eww), and you guys are going to love it, mwahaha! Oneshot, Alastor/Husk.

Progress: I’d say this is… maybe 2/3rds done. Or at least half done. It’s a long oneshot anyway. No progress since the last update, but I will get back to this.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Possibly worth staying for (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Radiohusk that makes me question my life choices (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here are the promised sneak-peeks into Mini and Afterlife. (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fics themselves due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Link and Sidon woke up nice and early, well rested and eager to face the day. They ate a hearty breakfast on a bench near the marketplace with Link taste-testing the local specialities – super expensive roasted spider leg for one – and Sidon mostly eating from his own stash, as there was nothing that would satisfy his hunger available. They hoped that the town at the entrance of the Lost Woods would have a better selection. After all, the forest there was all misty and damp, so frogs were a likely find.

After they were done eating, they headed to the library.

Librari was sorting books that had been left in the return box overnight, or had possibly been brought in this morning by the early birds. She looked up when they entered, and smiled widely.

"Good morning, Link, Sidon", she said, then blinked rapidly a few times before bonking the side of her head slightly with her fist and proceeding to sign the same thing.

Link chuckled, and Sidon's smile widened as he answered alike.

'So, Hero Museum?' Link asked as they reached the counter. He noticed a couple of thick pamphlets that were clearly about the museum on the desk; their covers had a very detailed drawing of what seemed to be a set of artifacts on a table, which was why he drew that conclusion.

Afterlife

Husk was so damn hungry.

He checked his canned and other dry foods cabinet for something, anything to eat today, and was coming up alarmingly empty handed. Not that it came as a surprise as he had been depleting his food supply for a couple of weeks now because of having had rotten luck at the casino recently and losing more money than he made. He ate the last of his plain rice last night, so now there really was nothing left.

He was broke, and also out of food. That was worse than his usual bad monetary situations, where at least his resources lasted him through the rough patch. Not this time, though. Had he forgotten to stock up after the last time? He must have. Fucking bullshit.

Fuck damn it, what was he supposed to do now? Pawn something? He had already pawned a few unnecessary items in order to get more gambling money, which he had proceeded to immediately lose instead of multiplying it like he had planned.

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3    FFnet    Purple Crayon    Ko-fi

#Fanfic progress update