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Hello everyone!
Wow, it has been too long!
For those who have read my previous post, you may already know what I'm here to say! But, for those unaware, hopefully you will be pleased to hear that 'feelings will complicate this' is officially back!
Yes, you've all read that right! After an entire year (or two?) of no updates, FWCT is finally being updated!
Here's how it's going to work, please read below for the information!
sorry I didn't post for a few days was on vacation!!
Hehe yes a singular doodle of the vampire topher fic >:)
WOAH FWCT AGAIN??? (I love that fic sm its awesome cant wait for the on-coming chapters!!)
I have over 800 videos in my topher bus tiktok folder im feeling good
some doodles based on the very fun "feelings would complicate this" by @tophabes
This fic has a VICE grip on me.
Normally I wouldn't @ but aw hell, why not
@tophabes YOU
Мне нравится этот фанфик! (~￣³￣)~
fanfart 4 new chapter of @tophabes fanfic “feelings would complicate this”
I love it sm it’s ver well written u should totes check it out
@tophabes ive been meaning to make art for this fic i love it so much !!!!!
Friends who cook together... Epilogue
Guess who thought chapter 4 would be a one-off in terms of length, and that the epilogue would go back to being along the 1-2k word mark? This clown *points at self*
Anyway, it is now done, and that’s a wrap on the story! Thank you so much to everyone who has read and supported Friends who cook together..., it really means the world to me 💕 Hope you enjoy this last chapter!
Lesson 1 | Lesson 2 | Lesson 3 | Lesson 4 | Read on AO3
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Epilogue: Quiche Lorraine
Marinette hummed happily as she dusted the living room bookshelf. It wasn’t something that really needed doing, given that Adrien did it every week, but she felt the urge to do something manual and mindless rather than sit in the same room, staring at a blank page as she waited for inspiration to hit.
The two previous years had been an absolute dream, on many fronts. She’d gotten her first designer job in an up-and-coming fashion company shortly after graduating from her Masters degree. Many of her designs had already made it on the runway, launching her on a "to-watch" list. It was hard work, but she enjoyed it very much.
And her relationship with Adrien bloomed beyond what they ever would’ve imagined. Both of them had soon realised that putting a label on their relationship didn’t really change their dynamic, confirming Alya’s theory that they’d already been dating without knowing. There was an added bonus, though; they didn’t have to resist the urge to touch each other anymore.
It was the little things, like Marinette sleepily hugging Adrien from behind when they were preparing breakfast together, standing on her tiptoes to rest her head on his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek. Being able to cuddle, on purpose , on the couch while they watched a movie. Her hand finding its way in his when they went for a walk, in the street or on the rooftops. Adrien gently kissing the top of her head when he brought her a cup of hot beverage if she was up late for work. Their kisses at the top of the Eiffel Tower at night, Ladybug’s arms wrapped around Chat Noir’s neck while he held on to her tightly, alone with the city spreading at their feet. Or their sweet good morning kisses, the best of wake up calls.
They’d moved in together six months after their official anniversary. It wasn't like they didn't pretty much live together anyway, but it meant they actually shared their life. Adrien had sold his apartment, and both had invested in Marinette’s. Adrien had been quite insistent on the matter, arguing that it felt more like Home than his flat ever did.
Marinette smiled as she picked up a picture of Chat Noir and her which had fallen flat on the shelf. She wiped the frame, her thoughts drifting to the day it had been taken. If she had agreed to staying in her apartment instead of getting a completely new place of their own, there had been one condition: they needed to buy new furniture, things they both chose.
That day, Marinette had taken the morning off and they’d made a trip to Ikea. They’d walked through all the displays, drifting from one aesthetic to another. It had been hard not to buy the whole store, but they’d ended up choosing a couple of dressers and a new coffee table, as well as a dozen kitchen utensils and decorations that just seemed so important to own. Adrien had assured her that he was fine putting it all together when they’d come back, the car boot filled with cardboard boxes, and Marinette had left for work, glancing back to her boyfriend sitting in the middle of the living room beside his toolbox, focused on reading the instructions. She had smiled tenderly at the scene before quietly closing the door behind her.
When she’d come back that evening, she’d been greeted by one of the dressers in the hallway, which she had to say looked really good. Progressing into the living room, though, she’d found Chat Noir (he’d admitted later that Plagg’s nagging had gotten to him and transforming had been the only way to shut him up) lying on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling, surrounded by ripped cardboard boxes and screw packets, and a half assembled… thing, for lack of better words, at his feet. He’d just said he hated the Swedes, and she’d laughed, helping him up. They’d worked together the rest of the evening, and finished building everything. They’d been so proud of their achievement that they’d decided to immortalise the moment, and the picture had found its way on the shelf.
She tried placing it back, tilting it so she could see it from her desk, but it fell again. Flipping it over, she noticed that the holding part of the frame was broken.
Marinette frowned. She could distinctly recall seeing the picture out of the corner of her eye the previous week, which meant that the frame had broken since then. Either that, or… She inspected the shelf again, and noticed there was a definite gap on the right of it, which she was sure hadn’t been there before. They had way too many books lying around, shelfless, for the space to be left empty for very long.
A delicate round-shaped trail of dust jogged her memory. The picture had been leaning on their latest pun jar. Chat Noir was actually holding it in his arms in the picture, as a reminder that they were useful; the contents of one of them had been put towards buying the furniture (they’d opened it as a joke, and ended up being surprised by how much money it contained). They still had four stowed away in their closet, but they kept one in the living room as decoration.
She wondered what had happened to it.
Before she could consider investigating the matter, the local church bells struck the hour, startling Marinette. She hurriedly leaned the picture frame on the wall and put her cloth away, before going back to her desk. She’d procrastinated enough for the day, and unfortunately the deadline wouldn’t magically disappear like the dust she’d just cleaned.
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