Belle and Adam don’t really want children of their own, at least not in the near future, so Belle dedicates her time to starting her own children’s literature company called Beauty and the Books. It’s hugely successful.
Plumette is her head of her marketing and is literally a genius, Lumiere is constantly blown away by his fiance’s beauty and fucking brilliance and honestly he’s lovesick for her
Lumiere himself opens up a classy af five star restaurant in the city, and Cogsworth agrees to work with him if it means he gets to work his own hours
Mrs. Potts and Chip move back in with Mr. Potts and Chip grows up in a very simple household. He goes to school where he discovers his passion for dance, but the dance school he wants to attend is super expensive so Adam and Belle help his family out with the tuition :3
Cadenza and Garderobe tour the world as an operatic/musical duo, being a fabulous power couple together and booking shows anywhere from italy to israel. They are literally living the dream man
Lefou is head of Belle’s company’s creative team and has his own really big office and stuff where he frames all of his boyfriend’s shirtless selfies
Gaston is a bodybuilder who makes all his money from his ultra-famous instagram. He’s also a stay at home dad since he and Lefou adopted a cute lil son
Meanwhile, Adam is a professional model and does really classy perfume/cologne commercials and stuff. He’s been offered a few movie roles, but he doesn’t like travelling or people that much, so he’s turned them down to live a relatively quiet life with his Belle
Maurice lives in a little cottage out in the country, where he’s been content for a long time. Everyone frequently visits him because Maurice is the best grandpa :))
If you thought I’d make this cute well, you were wrong lol. Why am I like this?
“There is no way in hell that actually works.” Marinette pointed out to her computer screen where two models were making out on a Parisian rooftop in what seemed a really uncomfortable position.
“You can’t know that.” Chat argued.
“Look, that position looks uncomfortable as fuck, there is no way a hot make-out session could happen in those circumstances. That’s why these pretentious perfume commercials suck. They are impractical.”
Chat crossed his arms and huffed, his inner model turning defensive about the pretentiousness of perfume commercials. “You never tried it so you can’t know.”
Marinette stopped dead in her tracks. Chat gulped. She got that look that he knew meant she was up for a challenge.
“Move your leather clad sexy ass on the balcony. Now.”
Chat gulped and did as ordered while trying to not make a dance of joy because of the fact that Marinette just admitted she thought his ass was sexy. Once they were on the balcony, Marinette moved some of her plants to allow for space. She climbed next to one of the chimneys. She laid herself o her back, letting her body from the waist down hang parallel to the wall, similar to the girl in the commercial. Chat came next to her.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Make out with me!” she ordered and Chat did. To prove that there could be a hot make out session while in pretentious perfume commercial type of poses. And not because he liked Marinette and wanted to make out with her for a while now.
He had to admit, it was a little bit hard. Their noses were colliding weirdly and it was a little hard to align their lip. And while he knew he wasn’t the most experimented kisser out there, he liked to think he wasn’t that bad that it made Marinette push his face away just moments after he tried to use some tongue in the kiss. Now he just wished they had a normal make out session, on the chaise instead of this. At least he could read Marinette’s expression properly then.
“Was it that bad?” his ears dropped.
Marinette raised (lowered? she was upside down after all) an eyebrow. “Chat, you almost stuck your tongue in my nose.”
Adrien felt his eyes dry as he stared at the screen of his laptop, while fastly writing a reply to one of his emails. This day had only brought problems. There was a delay with the delivery of Mulberry silk, the model for the May editorial called in sick and they needed a last minute replacement. There had been problems with the director for the new perfume commercial and the concept that the team he refused to work it. And there was the problem with the executive of the Milano branch who was apparently very incompetent and the board of directors there wanted to change him. Adrien sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. His head was about to burst. It was well in the afternoon and besides that usual croissant in the morning he ate nothing. And he didn’t get too much sleep either because he spent a good part of the night stopping a kidnapping. It was moments like this, when everything was just too much and too overwhelming, when he simply wished to give everything up and just go to the Agreste private island in the Caribbean and spend the whole day drinking cocktails and swimming and then get a full night sleep in his silk sheets while the room smells like jasmine scented candles. And he could use his face masks in peace. He didn’t put a face mask on for about a week now, his skin was dying, damit. Clenching his jaw and remembering he has to be a responsible adult, he was ready to return to the problems at hand when he was gently pulled against the back of his chair. He closed his eyes as his temples were massaged gently, before her hands slipped in his hair, making his ponytail come undone.
“You are going to kill yourself if you keep this up.” Marinette stated while running her fingers through his hair, and making circular motions against his scalp.
“Mhm.” was the only thing he managed to say as he relaxed against her touch.
Marinette’s fingers slid from his hair, along his neck and over his shoulders. And then she began massaging his back. Adrien bit his lip to keep from moaning. It felt so good, the pressure of her hands against his back muscles, making every knot of tension come undone. He wondered if her hands were so warm or it was his body that was warmer than usual. As she moved her hands with practiced ease, Adrien kept trying to keep the purr that was about to ring out. Her fingers pressed against a certain spot on his back and Adrien even brought his thumb to bite into. Anything to keep him from doing something extremely awkward.Godammit, massages weren’t supposed to make you almost orgasm.
“You are a goddess” he groaned, allowing himself to go limp against her hands.
Marinette giggled. “I’ll make sure to put that in my CV.” once she took care of his back, her hands slid up again, rubbing his temples gently. “I’m serious, though. I know you are technically my boss and you can fire me for this, and probably blacklist me from the fashion world forever if you really want, but frankly,” her voice changed from soothing to threatening. “I’m going to kick your ass out of the office at four if you don’t intend to leave it yourself by then.”
By all accounts, he should have been insulted for being spoken to like that. But it felt so good to not have someone kiss his ass for once, that he couldn’t help, but laugh. “Thank you my conscience. I promise we will have a normal schedule today.”
He kept his eyes closed, enjoying Marinette’s little massage, entirely obvious to the self satisfied smirk on her face.
Adrien hated his life. Thanks to Marinette, he actually got home at a decent hour and made himself a nice consistent dinner. But when he was about to draw himself a bath with bubbles and essential oils, he got an alert on his phone. Miss Fortune. Of fucking course. And now, when he stood across from her, he couldn’t help but glare as she smirked cockily at him, a painting held securely under her arm.
“Hello, kitten. You look awfully tense.”
“Thanks to you.” he kept glaring at her. “How about a deal. You put that painting down and we just go home in peace. No fighting this time.”
“Hm.” he hummed tapping her chin. “Depends. Can I bring you to my home instead of the painting?”
She sighed dramatically. “Then it isn’t a deal. This piece will look lovely on my living room wall. Though,” she smiled at him. “You would look even more lovely while I nail you against the wall.”
Chat tried to ignore the blush spreading over his cheeks as he lounged at her. With a fast move, she dodged, the set the painting on the floor carefully. After making sure her catch was out of the way she jumped back at him engaging into hand to hand combat. Honestly, his job would be much easier if she wasn’t such a talker.
“My, my.” she said in an appreciative tone while blocking one of his blows. “I could cut myself on that jaw. And even so, “she sighed dreamily. “I bet it is wonderful to sit on.”
Chat hoped his blush wasn’t to evident. “Trying to distract me with talking won’t work this time.”
She giggled. And the next thing Adrien knew was that he fell on his ass, before being rolled onto his stomach. He tensed as he fet her body slid against his, his hands immobilized. He began to struggle to free himself, but any attempt he might have done, disappeared when she spoke again.
“Oh, I really love this position.” she leaned closer to his ear and whispered. “Say, kitten, do you like pegging?”
Adrien was blushing again. Because she was using dirty tricks on him, not because he may actually really be into pegging. Seriously. His lack of answer seemed to bother Miss Fortune.
“It is not polite to not answer people, you know. But if this is how you want to play, fine.”
She began rolling her hips against his ass at an agonizing speed. Too damn slow. And yet. His body relaxed against her movement, even if his brain screamed at him to fight her, not let her dry hump him. But it felt too good for his body to even want to resist anyhow. And when her hands moved from gripping him to massage his back, Adrien just went putty. Oddly, the massaging seemed somehow familiar, but he couldn’t bring himself to care or try to figure out why. His body needed that. Miss Fortune noticed that as well as she pressed a kiss against the nape of his neck. Adrien bit his lips to the point of bleeding to keep from moaning. He was letting her dry hump him, but he would be damned before he let himself show her that he was enjoying this. The touches became slower and Adrien took a few seconds too much to realize she wasn’t on him anymore. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the painting was gone as well. He groaned.
Kinda long and slightly strange request but here goes! (You don't have to do it if you don't wanna <3) imagine the MC is severely asthmatic and never tells anyone cause it's embarrassing but the RFA members find out cause after they get a new cologne/perfume MC is thrown into an attack because of it.
Author’s note: ok so I don’t have asthma but I did some research and tried tot make it accurate sO I’M SORRY but enjoy :)
while he was at the game store he saw that LOLOL had a perfume anD HE HAD TO
HAVE THAT OMG
was just so excited and sprayed
in your face
he saw the pained look on your face and the tears coming from your eyes hE
drops his prized perfume and attends to you
drag him outside so you can catch your breath and the explain to him what just
of course he’s crying poor bby
vows NEVER to spray anything strong smelling again and throws out ALL OF his
cologne even though you tried to explain to him that small amounts are fine
He came home from a perfume commercial and he REEKED
it filled up the entire house
so, as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom you knew
you knew you were screwed
you felt your throat tighten and your eyes water and fell to
when Zen heard a thud hE SPRINTED straight toward you
“Shit MC, are you okay? What do you need? Please TALK TO
you pointed to your purse and he quickly grabbed it and spilled
out the continence
when he saw you reach for the bright red inhaler, he knew
after you were better, and Zen showered, he hugged you
“You can tell me anything, MC. You could’ve died today,
and I love you too much to let that happen.”
she bought this new perfume to impress you
and she was a little too excited and doused herself in it
when you saw her she had already expected your eyes to widen at
the new scent
what she didn’t expect was for those eyes to water and for your
breathing to become strained
when she tried to get closer you just shook her off to try to
get away from the stench
once you found your medicine, you texted Jaehee to change her
clothes and meet you outside
when you explained to a still worried Jaehee that you have
severe asthma and had struggled with it since you were a kid, she hugged you
“I’m glad you told me now… I’ll remember to put on less
perfume. I love you, MC.”
he came back from his trip to Paris, he remembered to put on the new cologne he
when you greeted him at the door with a hug, you got a full face of stench
you doubled over and began wheezing jumin had no idea IN HELL what to do
tried to remain calm and pat your back, but you just shooed him away
managed to make it into the kitchen jumin following your every move
you put the inhaler to your lips jumin finally understood
looked up to explain to him what had happened but he was already gone
you called him
going to the store to buy some air purifiers. Is there anything else I can buy
that would help your asthma?”
you told him some chocolate wouldn’t hurt he scoffed but he still bought some
not that he put on too much cologe
that he dropped THE WHOLE BOTTLE AND IT SPILLED eVERYWHERE
called you to help clean it up, but as soon as you walked into that bathroom
ran out at the speed of light leaving seven in a puddle of perfume
he finally caught up to you, the spell had passed
Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn’t stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.
“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”
Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.
(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)
Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.
Nick leans over. “Oh,” he says, his voice smug. “Who is that?”
Harry just blinks at his phone. “Um,” he manages to stammer out.
“Who’s that, Harry?” Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he’s not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.
Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another ‘um’. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn’t be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.
“Oh,” Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry’s distress. “Looks like we’ve got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?”
Her number. So Nick thinks it’s a girl. Well, Harry can’t blame him: 'Lou’ is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist’s name is Lou.
But this Lou, well, Louis, he’s kind of, really, really not a girl. He’s really pretty though, which, is something.
(Or: AU where Harry’s in One Direction, Louis isn’t, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete’.)
It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.
Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.
Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.
He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.
It doesn’t explain why he’s lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of him.
As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Louis’ wet dreams since he was about eighteen.
(Or: Louis is a Radio 1 DJ and Harry is a pop-star he interviews.)
'Just like a little cat,’ Louis thought later, as he drifted off to sleep. 'A little kitten with his claws sunk right into me.’ It isn’t that terrible of a thought, after all. …………. Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.
Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.
“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, that’s it, spread your legs a bit, there you go.”
The camera follows Louis as he does. Maybe if the modelling thing doesn’t work out, he could try the porn industry. Then again, he’s a bit too stocky to be twinky and a bit too twinky to be anything else. He likes that about himself, though. Well, directors and photographers like that about him. He could pull off pretty and edgy, could do GQ in the morning and a perfume commercial in the afternoon. Right now he thinks he could pull off anything, because it’s Harry fucking Styles directing him.
Or, a Top Model AU where Louis is accidentally there to make friends, not become Britain’s Next Top Model. (Also Zayn is the supermodel host.)
Falling in love with your step-brother’s best friend is a disaster enough. When he happens to be the boy everyone loves and you’re a nerd who wears sweater vests and cries during rom-coms, it takes it to a whole new level.
“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”
Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.
Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.
Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.
Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.
“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”