“Girl, why are you in such a rush?” Alya asked, watching her best friend gather her things in a hurry.
“I forgot about something!” Marinette fretted, dropping her bag in the process. Which caused all the things she’d gathered to spill out. “Shoot,” she muttered under her breath, “I’m such a klutz!”
“Whoa, girl, relax. What could you have forgotten about that can cause this much panic? I haven’t seen you this scatter-brained since high school!” Alya astonished, joining Marinette on the ground to help her clean up.
Marinette sighed, putting the final piece in her bag again and looked at Alya. They were both knelt down on the floor and Marinette blew a piece of hair from her face. “I—Well… I’m meeting Adrien.”
Alya gave her a deadpanned look. “With whom you’re married to… what’s the big deal about meeting with your husband?” she asked.
“It’s not the meeting with him part, it’s just—ya know. We’re looking for a house… and… I dunno,” Marinette dug through her bag for her keys, mumbling something about needing a brighter keychain.
Alya looked at the table they had been sitting at to see her friend’s keys lying there. She picked them up and jingled them in front of Marinette’s distracted face. “Here,” she said, hearing Marinette utter out a “Thank you.” Alya crossed her arms and stared curiously at her friend. “What’s the big deal? You’re looking for a house. Something every married couple does… Haven’t you dreamed about this for like, your whole life, or something?” Alya asked.
Marinette shrugged and looked away from her friend, “Well, I mean, yeah. But, like, it’s still a little soon, isn’t it?”
Alya furrowed her brows, “You’ve been married for 3 months. So no, it’s not ‘too soon.’ Getting a house is good. You’ve been crashing in his mouse-sized apartment, which, if I do recall, doesn’t allow for a roommate.”
Marinette bit her fingers, “Yeah, we’ve been ignoring the calls about that…”
“What’s the real issue here?” Alya asked, reaching out for Marinette’s shoulder, “Are you alright?”
Marinette slid from her grasp, looking worriedly at her phone. “Y-you’re probably right! I’m just crazy. This is Adrien,” she said as she lifted her phone, “Gotta take it!”
Alya watched her friend go with a wild expression, “Oh…kay… see ya later, then?”
Marinette pushed the coffee shop door open with her shoulder, holding her phone in one hand and her drink in the other. “Hey, hon,” she said, “Yeah, I’m on my way. No, I didn’t forget, I’m just running a bit late. Yeah, bad traffic. Uh huh. Okay. Yup, see you in a few. I love you too. Bye.” She hung up and stuffed her phone in her purse, grabbing her keys and hopping into her car.
“Alya’s right,” she told herself, “This is good.”
“Okay, on to house number three!” Adrien said enthusiastically, buckling up his seat-belt. “That last one was cool, though, huh? What did you think, Mari? You were pretty quiet in there…” He looked over at his wife to see her staring numbly out the window. “Marinette?”
She blinked and turned to him, looking dazed, “I’m sorry, I was zoned out. What?” She asked.
Adrien frowned, “I asked if you were okay,” he said, reaching out to touch her forehead. “Are you sick? Do you have a fever? Maybe we should go home…”
“Oh no, I’m not sick,” Marinette brushed him off. “Tired is all.”
“You sure?” he asked.
“Positive,” she smiled at him.
“Alright. So, what’d you think of the house?” he asked.
“It was okay,” she said. “It’s expensive, though.”
Adrien shrugged, “Well, money’s not an issue, so don’t pay attention to the price tag, okay? We’ll get whatever we need and whatever works.”
Marinette looked at her husband with a clumsy smile, “The money you got from your father is suppose to be for retirement, isn’t it? That was your plan, right?”
Adrien looked at her with a gentle smile before looking back at the road, “Plans can change.”
Anxiety squeezed Marinette’s chest, “You should save it.”
“Mari, don’t worry. Even if we went all in and bought the whole house now, I’d still have plenty left over. Besides, I’m gonna put what we don’t spend in a retirement plan.” He reached out to touch her knee gently, “Your worried, and it isn’t about the money…”
“I’m not worried, it’s just an expensive house—“
“Marinette, what’s wrong?” he came to a stop at a street light.
“Nothing,” she said, crossing her arms stubbornly.
“Come on, Mari, what’s eating at you?” He pushed.
She nodded towards the windshield of the car, “The light’s green.”
He huffed, “I’m not going until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Adrien you can’t—there’s people behind us,” she turned around in her seat to see a frustrated wave from the car behind them followed by a honk. “Adrien, seriously! Go!”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. Normally I wouldn’t push because I don’t need to know sometimes, but this is clearly about us, and that I should know. So what’s wrong?” He pushed the car into park to prove his point.
“Adrien, we don’t have time—“
“Are you having regrets?” he blurted out, his voice calm. Marinette knew this voice, but she’d never personally experienced it. It was his business voice. The voice he used at professional parties, or conversations with co-workers. It was his father’s voice.
“…Regrets?” She repeated numbly, looking him in the eye. The angry honks and yells began to fade out.
He nodded, “Yeah, regrets. About us,” his eyes and face stoic; he was like a wall. But Marinette could see clearly behind it. He was hurt.
“N-no! No, of course not! I could never regret this,” she gestured between them. “It’s just…”
“Will you?” she ask carefully. Looking away from him.
“Will I what?” He asked, tilting his head. His once calm voice became lathered in frustrated confusion. A car swerved around them, giving them a pleasant curse and honk as he passed, followed by more cars.
“Will you regret this?” she asked. He didn’t respond. “Maybe not now, and maybe not next year or the year after that, but… maybe in ten years. When I’m older, and less exciting. Maybe you’ll look back at it all and realize that it was when you decided to marry me that things started to go wrong. That, in ten years you’ll regret loving me and how you bought a fancy house and used up your money,” she hadn’t noticed until now, but she was crying. She could tell because a tear had fallen onto her hand. “After all, you said it yourself! Plans change, and I don’t want you to regret this—“
She felt large hands envelop her own small ones. She didn’t dare look up to see the man who was holding them though. She couldn’t.
“Hey,” he said gently, leaning over to kiss her wet cheek. “I could never regret this,” he said, but she looked unconvinced, offering him a lazy shrug and a mumbled, “Maybe.”
“I love you,” he said, baffled. She didn’t move. He huffed, thinking of what to say. “Now, if I remember correctly,” he began, “I had a crush on you first,” he said.
“You had a crush on Ladybug, not Marinette,” she pointed out.
“And you had a crush on a model, not Chat Noir,” he countered. “I agree, things can change. We changed, but it was for the better, right?”
“For better or worse,” he repeated their wedding vows. “Now, I take that seriously. Even if there comes a ‘worse,’ I’ll never regret it. Because I love you. We chose each other.” He gently pulled her chin to look her in the eyes. “The only thing I could ever regret would be not marrying you. To not share a life with you. To have kids and grow old with you.”
She blinked and smiled at him, “Kids?” she asked.
“Kids,” he nodded, glad she was smiling. “I’m serious, Mari. About you. About this.”
She leaned in to kiss him. Soft and sweet, short and simple. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
He kissed her nose and leaned back. “But,” he said, putting their car back in drive and looking to see the light had turned red again. “If Nino confesses his love to me, I may just run into the sunset with him,” he said, acting serious.
“Oh my gosh,” Marinette shoved him with a laugh, “You’re a dork.”
Summary: Hoseok is what you call a mystery. You don’t know anything about him except for the fact he works at your favourite coffee shop. Until he gets you out of a dangerous situation one day. You want to grow closer to him but in order to find answers, you’ll have to face his demons.
Word count: 4.1k
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Fallen Angel! AU
A/N: In replacement of the prologue i recently deleted, here’s the real first chapter of the series! Enjoy the feels!
“You two are idiots,” Jay spoke from the doorway. You and Mouse broke apart in shock. Jay just grinned, “You’re both just lucky that I was the one that found you. Had it been Voight, you would have both been dead.”
“When my family and I first watched Mickey Mouse’s The Three Musketeers, my parents joked that the Beagle Boys reminded them of my brother, sister, and I, because we were mischievous and always getting into trouble together. At the time, that comparison irked me, but after rewatching the film years later, I feel an odd sort of connection to the trio now. They remind me of how close my siblings and I used to be before we drifted apart.”
todd howard is real, he’s 3 inches tall and he lives in my wall. at night he sneaks out to steal my thimbles to use as stools in his tiny mouse apartment. i give him crumbs to nibble and he squeeks at me in gratitude
Mighty Mouse apartment - Woolloomooloo, Australia - 2013 by Nicholas Gurney
Find more at : http://bit.ly/1payQA6
The project is an exercise in modest, low cost, good quality design that can be afforded. The micro apartment offers a proposal for future high-density urban living for one person families; the fastest growing demographic.
Mother Mother - Happy Broken Bells - The Ghost Inside The Antlers - Putting the Dog to Sleep The Dresden Dolls - Coin Operated Boy Cults - You Know What I Mean Varsity - Still Apart METRIC - FORTUNES Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi ft. Jack White - Two Against One
anon prompted: Au where Kurt and Blaine are college/uni professors (from their late 20s to 30s) and Kurt made it clear he doesn’t do work romance but Blaine still flirts and does romantic gestures, basically does everything possible to get him on a date(literally everything) and one day Kurt gives in and realizes it’s the best decision he’s ever made
Tweaked the ending a little, but they still end up together, of course. ~1600 words, PG, fluff. Oh, and the song they sing midway through is Lay All Your Love On Me from Mamma Mia!
Kurt had only one rule at his job (outside of the school-mandated policies, of course): No Workplace Romance. He had seen too many colleagues get burned by mismatching expectations or the inability to leave personal problems at the door when they started teaching, and he was not going to follow in their footsteps if he had anything to say about it. For one, they all had terrible taste in footwear - too many orthopedic shoes for such a showy (no pun intended) department.
He was highly tempted to reconsider that rule when Blaine Anderson began working at Tisch, however. How was he expected to resist a gorgeous, charming, kind man who was blatantly interested in him? It was like karma wanted to get the chance to kick his ass.
Kurt stuck to his guns, though, and told Blaine firmly but politely that he wasn’t interested in workplace dating, and Blaine had been surprisingly respectful. He’d backed off immediately, leaving them to form a cordial working relationship. They weren’t best friends, but they hadn’t let Kurt’s rejection turn them into enemies, either - they were somewhere in the gray area between coworkers and actual friends, genuinely interested in talking to each other but too afraid of crossing the line to really let loose and spend any time together outside of lunchtimes and school functions.
At least until Flirty Blaine decided to make a comeback.
On a late summer day
I felt on the top of my head
from somewhere above the dreaming clouds
and heard in the bruised matter of my angelic brain:
a musical splash that spread like a hurricane storm
in a myriad of daffodils marching down the melancholy hill.
I listened with my ears wide open
and stared with my eyes in wonder
at the whole somber symphony and stated out loud
“I will never have enough of the blueness of this moment”.
Even couldn’t move an inch of my winged sandals
from the pavement.
I was waiting a helping gesture from above
when a small poisonous frog
came to google at my foolishness.
the frog started to laugh,
cascading tears down the cheeks
his small hands clutching at his stomach.
I watched with medusa eyes
the poisonous frog poking fun at me
but still kept my countenance bold and erect.
I had to protect my disturbed bones, my broken wings
and my dignity intact in which way I could.
If some smaller than you kids or animals
are laughing at you, mind me,
this’s not an admiration sign.
It means you’re making a fool of yourself
without any trace of shame and
I’m an expert in shaming and foolishness, trust me.
Sure, I love to play the guardian angel during the day
looking for the well being of battered kids
or other unprotected endangered species
but in the evening
I still want to be treated cool
like a glamorous damsel in distress.
After the frog finished with laughing
and drooling up and down the symphony street
I went on my way to decode a french bank account
with my apartment guest ( a petite mouse )
which is living since seven years in my basement.
Sometimes the mouse is throwing excessive parties
with a lousy band of avante-garde friends, garage noises
and messed up jungle and drum&base beats
that can live you forever deaf
if you don’t snuggle some clean cotton pads in your ears.
However, this weird poem is about me
and the poisonous frog which left the melancholy hill
and the official building without even a hastened goodbye.
This poem is not about my best friend, the petite mouse and me. That one will be another poem, I hope soon enough.
Until then I bid all of you peace, true love and harmony
and I take off my gavroche hat in front of this baffled author.
Oh well, I guess all we need is love and a beauty bath,
my sardonic muse and me, both being sick and tired and
terribly influenced by the earliest Woody Allen’s comedies
a little too much.