#dior afternoon tea

[jasmine7031]

CAFE DIOR by LADUREE

On the weekend, I enjoyed afternoon tea in Ginza.

It was my first time having afternoon tea without scones.

Disappointed as I wanted to eat scones.

#afternoon tea #LADUREE #Dior #ディーオールカフェ #アフタヌーンティー #銀座 #銀座シックス

[lovecaitlined]

Making mood boards for 2024, updating more soon. 🫶🏻

#fashion #2024 #aesthetic #others #moodboard #mood boards #zhang Jingyi #nails #afternoon tea #Chanel #China #Dior #pink #Chloé #Hermes #LV #louis vuitton

[ferrstappen]

happy mother's day, sorry for the mess l Max Verstappen blurb

a/n: Charles' version will be posted shortly <3

pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader

you can read more of dad Max and the twins here <3

summary: Mila and Luca Verstappen go rogue during Mother's Day, ignoring Max's plan.

Max sighed after putting Mila and Luca to sleep, both too excited to celebrate their mum in just a few hours, after spending weeks planning and buying gifts for you.

The living room was neatly decorated with yellow and purple balloons, the twins' favorite colors. Max had multiple red and white roses delivered. Of course that wasn't enough, the three of them had gone shopping for gifts, Max not caring about it being too much and the twins not having to think whether it was or wasn't expensive; whatever reminded them of you, it was bought.

Max knew you didn't really care about the Dior handbag, a long parka from Moncler, maybe you'd like the Cartier bracelet, but only because it was engraved with Mila, Luca and Max's name and date, but they could've had a cheap fake gold bracelet from Aliexpress and you would've loved it just the same because it had their names on it.

You'd also love the assortment of chocolates that would' probably be gone by today's afternoon. It was a situation Max knew too well ever since you started dating. Max was taught by his mother and sister that classics were classics for a reason, never failing to gift you a large box of chocolates on Valentine's Day.

He remembers vividly your first Valentine's, enjoying quiet time on his apartment not really bothering to go outside, wanting to kiss and touch as much as you wanted in the early stages of the relationship, not having to care about people taking pictures, fans approaching Max for a conversation or autograph, the only thing both of you needed was being next to each other. His memory is clear when picturing you wearing one of his shirts after he left the bathroom, the box of chocolates lying next to you and he opened it, suddenly craving a dulce de leche filled chocolate.

It was empty.

Max was surprised that you were able to eat the entire box during the day, but then he learned it was a common occurrence, but he still pretended to get surprised whenever the box didn't survive past midnight.

Maybe he was dreaming, the early stages of your relationship always brought a smile to his face and was the stuff of his dreams all these years later, but he was aware of his surroundings now. This wasn't his old apartment that he after shared with you, this was the penthouse you got after getting married.

And whatever was coming from the kitchen, wasn't your doing since your warm body was perfectly curved against Max; your back pressed against his back, bottom moving against him as you tried to get comfortable after he moved, Max's hand resting dangerously low on your stomach and legs intertwined.

This was one of the few times he rolled his eyes at Mila and Luca, already knowing they were up to something, absolutely not in their room. He was hoping he would get the chance to celebrate and cherish you before the kids had the chance to interrumpt.

Oh well.

Rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet Max followed the shushed voices, English and Dutch mixing as Mila reprimanded her twin for bringing jam instead of Nutella, but Luca responded 'mama prefers jam in the morning, Mila'.

Max crossed his arms, this not being the first time the twins decided to get started with breakfast. They didn't care that Max tirelessly reminded them that he would wake them up and prepare breakfast for you.

"What happened with the plan?" Max asked and noticed how the twins stopped their movements, carefully and slowly turning around to face their dad. "M, any reason why there's a puddle of orange juice right next to you? Lu, do you know why all those tea leaves are scattered on the sink?"

To make matters worse, a panicked Luca dropped the glass he was carrying, the sound booming around the penthouse.

Max asked his son if he was okay at the same time Mila told her brother he was an idiot.

they all failed to hear the hurried steps coming towards the kitchen. Your eyes were met with your barefoot husband tiptoeing around the glass as he told the kids to not come near.

"What happened?" You asked and this time, it wasn't just the twins who ceased their movements and slowly turned their backs to you. this time they were joined by Max.

Silence filled the room as you were still waiting for an answer for the small mess on the kitchen.

The three Verstappen clones looked at each other, mentally planning on what to say next.

"Happy mother's day!"

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fluff #dad!max verstappen #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[taanoir]

Nimloth spent the morning with Haldir before going to the garden.

After an afternoon of gardening, Nimloth and Dior enjoyed a simple dinner in the hall.

Dior told Nimloth about his conversation with Elurin. He would stepping back from the business and letting Elurin fully take the reins.

Nimloth was not happy with the decision and became very angry. Her anger was out of character and Dior tried to calm her down. Worry washed over him, something was wrong, very wrong. He went to the kitchen to get some tea to calm her nerves.

When he came back to the hall he found she had collapsed and passed.

Nimloth was an excellent friend, wife, mother and grandmother. In her own right she loved gardening, painting, cooking and was obsessive about cleaning. Her smile made me smile.

#death tw #historychallenge #ts4 gameplay #Gen4 #ChildrenOfCalisto

[starcasticallyyours]

Jan 4, 2023 - a lovely day!!

I just had a really good day today that I want to make sure I remember so I'm making an honest to god blog, a straight up rambling diary entry. Just like I used to on LiveJournal, wow.

I do not expect anyone to read this. I just want to remember my lovely day. It was filled with nostalgia, good food, history, productivity, genuine exercise(?!), photos, and of course, BTS.

I've been on holiday since December 30th because I have a benevolent boss (perks of working at a small company) who lets our annual leave spill over a tiny bit since it's still "Christmas" break. I was socially engaged the nights of Dec29/Jan1 as well as the afternoon of Dec30, plus I was furiously writing updates for the DnD ficlet collection since it was Tae's birthday and trying to finish up Ch1 of the Regency sequel, Pirate fic, whenever I was at home during this time so it did not feel restful at all. It was only on Jan2 where I could pull a Kim Seokjin and completely sequester myself at home and veg out -- woke up at noon and played Stardew Valley for like, 6 hours. Jan3 required me to be a functional adult again so I cleaned the flat and tried to hash out the pirate fic before realising it was going to take wayyyy more work, so I've earmarked Marryat and Forester books to check out from HK Central when I go to CWB on Saturday. (Apparently Jimin has a massive Dior ad on the Sogo screen, so I will also be going there after my haircut. Whoo!!) Which brings us to January 4th! A Thursday. Historically, Thursdays have been good to me and this was no exception. I woke up later than I intended, around 10 AM, and then the sheer pleasure of being in a comfortable bed without needing to be anywhere stretched my lie-in to 10:30. After the basics of room tidying and washing up, I had leftover pasta for breakfast and played In the Seom while waiting out the 30min I'm supposed to have between eating and taking my Chinese meds. Then it was washing up, getting dressed, packing up the devices after charging them all morning to give myself a little day trip to...

Kowloon City! My childhood 'hood. And now that I've moved back across the harbour, pressing play on The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Young Forever while walking out the door meant that by the time I got out in Sung Wong Toi station, my earbuds were appropriately blaring Ma City. (Okay, I did repeat Run because that's my favourite title track.) I made a beeline for Islam Food because I haven't had delicious halal Xinjiang cuisine in forever except I was an unfortunate bee with poor scent receptors since I forgot where it was and ended up looping around Nga Tsin Wai for a while... we were on Converse High by the time I found the resto, that's how long it took. At almost 2 PM was nearly full but not proper crowded, and mostly with older people which is par the course for Kowloon City. As a single I got a tiny table in the corner immediately and ordered a classic beef patty + bok choy and tofu soup. If I were with a larger group, I would have also gotten mutton xiaolongbao, scallion pancakes, and a curry so I will have to drag some people here again soon. Food was prompt and only $65 so I was done eating in 20 minutes tops.

Thanks to climate change, it was a balmy sunny afternoon so I stuffed my jacket into my backpack and headed on over to KCP. It's changed a LOT since I was a teenager -- no Park'n Shop in the basement selling eel and chicken rice boxes for $20 anymore, sigh. But I did get a Coco Milk Tea (half sweet, less ice) for $22 which is a VERY good price nowadays, you can't get anything in Central under $27 minimum ($30 on average) for example and it doesn't even taste as good?? But armed with my delicious tea, I was ready to go out the other way into Carpenter Park, which looks literally the same as when I was a kid. I spent a solid decade running around this park. There isn't a bouncy dinosaur anymore so I know it's not exactly the same, but the bicycle paths are the same, the rock garden where Sam filmed his lightsabre battles is the same... and Kowloon Walled City of course is the same.

...from when I was a child, not when it was THE Walled City. (Once, when everywhere at school was occupied, our drama class rehearsed our play in the Zodiac garden much to the tai-tais' collective chagrins.) Full disclosure that I actually came here in mid-December as well to gather inspo and info for my piece for the Ma City zine which is set in 80s KWC, so this time I didn't go look at the exhibits and just went straight to the chess garden since that's the only spot with tables. I set up my laptop and finished the piece to the soundtrack of construction, which I find very appropriate considering the topic. We don't get planes howling overhead anymore, so this will have to do.

Last time, I had to meet friends islandside for dinner so I actually walked up closer to Wong Tai Sin to take the bus but this time, it was only 4:15 and the day was just for me, for me! So after taking some pics in the bonsai garden in honour of Namjoon, I walked back to Junction Road and that was when I started taking pics for nostalgia -- down the street towards Ho Man Tin for the hundreds of times we ran for the bus stop, then up towards Munsang where my old school campus used to be. No, I didn't go to Munsang, I am very clearly an Intl school kid and we were across from them. The buildings are connected to Bethel Seminary which is Grade II protected so still there. I started walking up Junction Road towards Lok Fu when I saw the Stone Houses and stopped by.

These buildings weren't open when I was a kid; I remember passing them but hardly taking notice. Essentially, they are remnants of the oldest tenement buildings in the area, now refurbished as a cafe and museum. The server in the cafe immediately offered me a menu most kindly, but since it was 4:30 and I was already full on tea I politely declined. Checked out the museum though which is small and all in Chinese, no English, but I think the photos and maps would still be worth it for a non-reader. The whole thing strongly reminded me of the Mei Ho House museum and cafe too, even with their menu which is very Hong Kong cha chaan teng-esque. AND they have wi-fi!! So I'm totally planning on coming back for another writing session.

Since it was barely evening, I decided to hike Checkerboard Hill. Back when Kai Tak was still operating, the only way pilots could land planes was to come from the west, over Tsing Yi and Mei Foo Sun Chuen and barely across Kowloon City. With all the urban area underneath, there couldn't be proper signals so what they did was paint an enormous red-and-white checkerboard on the west and south sides of this hill to let the pilots know it was time to make that sharp 47 degree turn into the harbour airstrip. I distinctly recall being a preteen standing in the middle of the asphalt football (soccer to all y'all Yanks) pitch in Kowloon Tsai Park squinting up and thinking, "Why is it painted like that?" Later as a young adult, I found out. Now in my early 30s, I was going to actually go there.

Now ever since my former regular dance studio became a Covid cluster in 2020 and I also joined a choir whose rehearsals took its place on Monday evenings, I am far less fit than I could be. This was evident when I started up this hill -- which was NOT HARD at all, I am just pathetically out of shape. It took less than 15 minutes to reach the summit garden, where I did another confused bumblebee loop looking for the checkerboard and instead found: the electricity station, the weather station, some diligently preserved water tunnels from the 1940s-60s, and an irate woman screaming and swearing at a couple who accidentally took their dogs into the no-pets zone of the park. With the dulcet notes of "diu! bak po!" echoing behind me, I snapped some lovely views of Lion Rock then surreptitiously googled how to get to the checkerboard, discovering that indeed I was supposed to clamber over the stile and carefully tread the VERY narrow ditch outside of the fence (with a super steep slope studded with trees not a foot to the right) to get there.

So I did and the view was beautiful!! I was lucky to reach it at the twilight hour with an orange sun tinging everything as it moseyed on down to the horizon. Facing south you could see all of Kowloon City, all the way to Kwun Tong and Kowloon Bay on the left and Yau Tsim Mong on the right! Directly in front was even the IFC across the harbour. Directly below, Kowloon Tsai Park and those very sports fields from my youth. Somebody named Zach was playing tennis because his partner kept yelling encouragement, but I felt if I cheered "Yeah Zach, you can do it!" back down at them it would be creepy. So instead I took a lot of photos here, including some selfies on the middle layer smack centre of the checkerboard in which it was clear that I truly need a haircut which will happen under Jimin's watchful gaze in CWB come Saturday.

Finally, I climbed down the stairs and was sorely tempted to jump a gate to get into Kowloon Tsai because I know that park like the back of my foot (like, not SUPER well since it's been a long time but I would not get lost; I've run cross country around this park so many times) but in the end was a Good Honest Civilian and went back the way I came. I was feeling incredibly nostalgic at this point, so back on Junction Road I popped in my earbuds and replaced BTS with the Used for that extra mid-2000s angst. Spotify understood the brief and fed me Taking Back Sunday and Yellowcard while I followed the usual path through Morse Park, the way my almost-first-boyfriend Darren taught me in middle school. His favourite band was Jimmy Eat World, so it was perfect. With the memories of Preston's dad teaching me to play baseball on the artificial turf and when Grace came with me to Jusco so we could buy Neopets tamagotchis, I descended into the MTR and took the train home.

(At my stop, I got groceries including sushi for dinner, which I ate while watching Beyond the Star then after a break, took a massage in the chair while playing Stardew because my body is already paying the price for my impromptu hike today. Then I wrote this down before I could forget everything.)

It was a wonderful day, truly. I did everything I wanted to do and a little more, and I know what I want to do again when I inevitably come back. Hong Kong is changing because everything changes, but being in Kowloon City felt like nestling into a warm divot in the blankets. Like Joon said, you couldn't pay me millions to want to be from anywhere else. Like Hobi said, the heat will get to you but it's charged with the passion of its people. I'll be riding and dying in ma city until there's no other choice, which I know is sooner rather than later but for now, it's still Ma City.

#starcastic sighs #in happiness because she had a nice day. #Kowloon City #Kowloon Walled City #Checkerboard Hill #Hong Kong

[luthriel-tinuviel]

📔( I'm too curious)

send “📔” to read an entry from my muse’s diary about your muse

While my grandfather is wise and strong – he is also incredibly stubborn. Thorns of anger spews from the both of us, if we dare speak about that ungodly thing called the silmaril.

Dior insists I have inherited his temperament – I do not believe so. My grandfather and I are too different for that. We do not see eye to eye – nor can we resist annoying each other.

However. . .I do regret having lost my control and accidentally hurting him today. . .which that branch. . .hitting his head. . .

Mother says I should talk to him and apologize. Grandmother had already cleared his afternoon, insisting the both of us should talk over tea. Eru only knows how this will go. . .

Grandfather, I love you. . .but I wish you would understand me and do not hold your anger issues.

#lúthriel answers #lú loves her grandfather but also dislikes him xD #they have a rocky relationship xD #Dior will keep saying so until Lú discovers for herself #she never admits it #but she does have Thingol’s temperament #grandfather #grandfather Thingol #thingol #fam </3

[inatelescopelens]

london 7th december

Waking early this morning, I found myself restless although it was still quite dark and decided I would enjoy my cup of Earl Grey tea from the park today, under the trees. As it grew light I paid a visit to the flock of swans having their breakfast on the lawn by the lake and stayed there until the honking of some geese displeased by my intrusion hurried me on. I think I made a connection with the solitary black-feathered and red-beaked swan in the crowd with my own hair—at least, he stood up straight and stared at me indignantly for a while as I hovered about trying to achieve the best angle for a photo.

I kept walking to the north border of Kensington Gardens where I took in the serenity of the Italian Gardens, almost empty at such a time of day. The grey of the scenery seemed peaceful to me rather than miserable, with its splashes of amber autumn leaf and pale sky. The winter gloom gives the liveliness of the wild birds more resonance and the world feels less rushed. The atmosphere remained in this state of calm even as I went then beyond the park gates and joined the office crowds streaming towards Paddington. At Paddington Station I followed a memory onto Platform One where I found, as I had thought I would, the statue of Paddington Bear with his suitcase and label and hat. I spent a few minutes in his company before hopping on the underground to meet back with Mum at Notting Hill Gate.

The two of us set out properly for the day heading north to Westbourne Grove, a street these days lined with posh sorts of shops and salons which was once Mum and Dad’s local neighbourhood when they lived in London. We found their old house and lingered opposite for a minute or two, sipping coffee from Planet Organic. It was time though to head back down to Kensington, however, as we had morning tickets to the Palace and it was also far too cold to stay still very long. Kensington Palace was about as I remembered it from my last visit—there was a little less to see this time as some rooms were closed, but what was open was well worth the look around.

We walked on to South Kensington for lunch at the nearest Pret a Manger, having made a plan to take on the museums in the afternoon. We had no idea ahead of time but the Victoria and Albert Museum—our first and as it was only stop—was holding an exhibit on the children’s author Beatrix Potter, whose life we soon learned to be very rich with art and intellect. While it was touching to see the origins of so many familiar characters and stories, it was the revelations about the woman herself and her remarkable life and abilities which we liked best. The collection even contained the original possessions of Potter’s life which she wrote and drew into her works. Since we had no idea this exhibit existed when we walked through the door, it felt like a lucky outcome.

Against the soundtrack of a children’s choir singing carols, organ-accompanied, from the entrance hall’s upper level, we explored some of the V&A’s other collections. The Cast Courts were, are, my favourite. There is so much audacity in the precisely copied statues and structures that extend to the magnitude of entire cathedral doorways, assembled within the walls of the museum. You look around and see this entire world of art and architecture absurdly amalgamated in the one room.

Tiring a little at this point, we decided to finish up for the afternoon by continuing our tour of department store Christmas displays, making our way up the street to Harrods. The russet stone building was covered in a bright gold Christmas façade from the brand Dior, with three-dimensional reliefs in the style of gingerbread biscuits with white royal icing. Inside the tourist public milled around the food halls while the super-rich did their designer holiday shopping upstairs. The sights were quite the same as in Selfridges—expensive logos, novelty chocolates, cross-sections of hot water crust pork pie with the yellow yolk of a boiled egg perfectly centred. We took the underground home from Knightsbridge station around the corner in time to have a rest.

Our first true evening out was a genuine delight despite the frostiness of London’s weather steadily reaching new extremes; we rugged up well over the top of our nice clothes in preparation, and brought our proper gloves. It began with a train to Holborn and a walk down through the West End into Covent Garden where we were called to the doors of the Royal Opera House. Months ago, thinking of what nights out the holiday season might offer, I had looked into the possibility of ballet tickets—of course The Nutcracker is the company’s choice of show at this time of year. Most of the season’s tickets were sold by this point, all except for the furthest back of the hall stalls in the theatre, but by complete luck I came across two seats right in the front row of the circle stalls, close by the stage. It must have been a cancellation. I expect bad luck for at least a year to cosmically balance out the miracle of getting them.

Before the show we ate dinner at the Royal Opera House’s restaurant upstairs, where they had a very snappy smart system of pre-selecting your dishes and drinks online so the meal could be brought out fuss-free with plenty of time to spare. We shared burrata and broccoli to start, Mum’s main was an eggplant dish, mine was tender white fish with lentils. Collecting our programme from the desk we found our auspicious seats and sat down to watch the performance. It was a charming Nutcracker production, very traditional—the principal artists dancing as the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Prince were especially wonderful, they held the stage. Surprisingly, perhaps because it was a midweek evening performance early in the season, there were few children in the audience, and aside from a minor technical interruption when a set piece of a house had to be encouraged on stage, it went off perfectly.

Lovely dinner and show aside, though, it was the various characters of the evening that captured my attention most. It was impossible not to be fascinated by the man who sat alone at the table next to ours during dinner and we later saw again both in the theatre and during the interval: he was middle-aged, a slim unremarkable-looking person—except that his clothes and manner were so extremely noticeable. Everything about him was precise to a bizarre degree, from the uncreased and evidently tailored grey suit to the white pocket square to the way he flicked through his own programme with so much care. He ate his entree clinically and then pushed the plate away; we watched on in astonishment as he first removed the skin from his salmon fillet main and then consumed it with equal scientific exactitude. One got the sense the whole ballet experience itself was just another of these rituals to him, and what was most beautiful was that he was so totally unaware of his own character. It was truly unpretentious, though his clothes were no doubt very expensive and his life far removed from the average working person. He left before the curtain call was over, disappearing ahead of the crowd.

The other encounter of the evening, quite opposite in style, was at the ice cream counter during the interval. As I was waiting to exchange my mobile voucher at the till, a carelessly-dressed, chummy middle-aged man approached and asked if I was getting ice cream. Slightly bewildered I said yes, to which he replied by pressing a stack of eight individual one-pound coins into my hand and asking me to buy two ice creams on his behalf. They only accept contactless payment these days and he had no card and, he explained, a hell to pay with the missus if he wasn’t able to acquire their dessert. It was at that moment as I reached for my card to pay for him that I realised I had completely misplaced my bag—a moment of pure panic, since it contained both my wallet and my passport, and I had no idea where I’d left it. After paying for the man’s ice cream using Mum’s copy of our card, I was deeply relieved to find my bag still lying where I had sat in the restaurant earlier. A later crisis averted, thanks to the ice cream bloke and his missus.

With the ballet over we opted to skip the Covent Garden crowd and walk through Picadilly to Oxford Circus instead, passing through a messy world of tourist nightlife. We were able to take in the West End Christmas lights from their best angle against the clear night sky—great crowns and angels and stars suspended between buildings above the busy roads. But despite these spectacles on the bus home I was close to dozing off. In fact I was so tired that the next thing I knew I was waking up in bed still in my suit and tie—I had fallen asleep scrolling on my phone not long after we returned, out cold even before I had the chance to get changed.

[shoot1999]

Dior x Laduree weekend afternoon tea 🙂 - - #dior #afternoontea #tokyo #japan #backtotokyo #ginza #laduree #travel #wanderlust #globetrotter #november #2022 #autumn . . . . . . . . . . . (at Dior) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClaRixYvG_S/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#dior #afternoontea #tokyo #japan #backtotokyo #ginza #laduree #travel #wanderlust #globetrotter #november #2022 #autumn

[irinochka]

Afternoon tea at the Dior Cafe in Seoul 🫖 ☕️

#mine #selfie #cafe Dior #dior afternoon tea #dior #seoul #seoul cafe #cute cafe #cafes #afternoon tea #tea #south korea #travels

[ayoosho]

Some people care too much.

I think it’s called love.🤍

#afternoon #tea #macaroons #dior

[rosepompadour]

The making of the MISS DIOR ROSE N'ROSES dress

#fashion #seeing the miss dior dresses at the v&a was a dream #that exhibit sold out in seconds but luckily i'm a member so i still got to see it! #the berkeley had a dior-themed afternoon tea to promote it & they had pink frosted miss dior cookies shaped like the perfume bottle #that was a good time

[lacewings]

@victoriatornegren

#favourite #food porn #dior #coffee #cake #white #afternoon tea

[karuah]

Dior cafe by pierre herme

#ginzasix #Dior #Pierre herme #afternoon tea #sweets #tea #lunch #friend #layover #0321 #2018

[nisaamour]

#dior #afternoon tea #laduree

[foreficfandom]

Tag Yourself: Ace Attorney Aesthetics!

❁ Phoenix Wright: Collecting coupons. Hearty stew for a winter dinner. Homemade embroidered handkerchief. The clacking of an old keyboard. Coffee mug collection. Apple turnovers. Warm cardigans in the spring. Mint chapstick. The smell of maple wood. Children’s cereal. Watching the sun set over a concrete jungle.

☯ Maya Fey: Collecting cheap earring studs. Incense-stained fingers. Pirating movies. Dipping fries into milkshakes. Fairy lights. Temporary tattoos. Shiba inu puppies. Lilac silk. Fir needle tea. Neon headphones. Moss-covered stone. Tinted fruit lipgloss. Burgundy wood. The tinkling sound of tiny bells.

♕ Miles Edgeworth: Earl Grey at sunrise. Knit cardigans. Leather-bound classical literature. Crushed velvet. A crackling fireplace. Painting in oils. Crystal decanters. Linen parchment paper. Designer-brand silverware. Jazz standards at 2am. Wine-red lipstick. Mahogany and maple. Taking long baths. The scratching of a pen on paper.

☀ Apollo Justice:  Buzzing streetlamps. Midnight comic book binge. Character-themed shirts. Gummy candies. Vending machine stickers. The touch of fresh newsprint. Cans of cold beer. A field of summer grass. Quiet guitar ambience. Warm afternoon rain. Sandalwood and patchouli. Sipping coffee on the train at dawn.

♫ Klavier Gavin: Luxury skincare. Instagram pictures. Bulk bags of mini-sized Butterfingers. Black cold-brew coffee. Gunmetal crucifix earrings. 2am fast-food runs. Vintage polaroids. Sun-softened bedsheets. Malibu goth. Sophisticated old radio stations. Golden champagne. Overnight road trips in a luxury coach bus.

☾ Athena Cykes: Air Jordans. Mangonadas with extra lime. Nature hikes. Fruity-tasting tinted lip balm. Family movies. Wind chimes in the summer breeze. Eucalyptus and mint. Bubble baths. Vollyball on the beach. Painted terracotta flowerpots. Old scrapbooks. Pop songs from all around the world. Charcoal pencil stains. Fresh, warm bedsheets.

⤲ Simon Blackquill: Empty diners at midnight. Neon storefronts. Late-night Playstation sessions. Chilled bottles of artisanal stout beer. Framed ink paintings. Okazu bar food. Black leather boots. An autumn thunderstorm. Wasabi peas. Cast-iron pots and pans. The smell of nail polish. Dried lotus pods. Pure, undisturbed morning snow.

♤ Franziska von Karma: Dior lipstick. Concerto piano. Fountain pens. Almond trifle dessert in a five-star hotel. Clove cigarettes. Filled moleskin sketchbooks. Ten pairs of Louboutin heels. Bourbon cherries. Marble columns. The creaking of Italian leather. White onyx and silver chains. Loose-leaf tea. A delicately perfumed restrain order.

❀ Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: Bamboo broth during a chilly spring evening. Delicate embroidery. Echoing footsteps. An engraved elk antler haircomb. Artisanal wool tapestries. Rice water. A pale sunrise. Sparrowsong in the wind. Warm hands. Wooden chests. Stained glass roofs. Willow tree blossoms. Roast whole lamb with peppercorn and herb.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #apollo justice #athena cykes #klavier gavin #simon blackquill #maya fey #franziska von karma #nahyuta sahdmadhi

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Five

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Five: In the Rain

“Hey. Sorry to bug you, but could you help me move stuff from above deck down below? We’re supposed to have a storm,” Luka explained as he peeked around the doorjamb into Adrien’s room.

“Yeah, sure. It’s no problem at all,” Adrien easily agreed, pulling out his earbuds and slipping off of his bed to toe on his shoes.

“Thank you,” Luka sighed in relief. “Maman is still hung over from last night, so she’s in no shape to help, and Rose and Juleka just so happened to pick this afternoon to go see that Dior documentary that they’re doing reruns of. I’m really sorry about this.”

“Hey, no worries,” Adrien assured, clapping Luka on the shoulder as he came out into the hall. “I live here. I can help pull my own weight.”

“So long as you don’t pull a muscle,” Luka snickered, leading the way above deck. “The sound equipment is kind of heavy.”

“Psha,” Adrien scoffed. “I’m an ex-superhero. I’m sure I can manage.”

 “I’m dead,” Adrien reported, collapsing onto the loveseat in the upstairs living room and trying not to think about how XY and Luka had kissed there only two weeks earlier.

He tipped his head back and gazed up at the glass ceiling, watching as the first droplets started to fall.

“I’m sure it’s just because you’re a little out of practice,” Luka hummed, coming over with two mugs of chamomile tea. “You’ll be back in top form in a week or two after you and Marinette have been patrolling and sparring regularly again.”

Adrien snorted, sitting up to smile gratefully as he took his cup from Luka. “I’m glad someone has faith in me.”

“I will always believe in you,” Luka assured, making Adrien’s stomach flutter.

Blushing, Adrien looked away.

He took an experimental sip of his tea and, discovering that it was too hot, settled for holding it and absorbing the warmth through the sides of the ceramic mug.

“…It’s really escalating fast,” Luka observed after the lull in conversation had gone on for nearly half a minute, punctuated by the fierce hammering of the rain on the glass roof.

“Maybe it will die down just as quickly?” Adrien remarked uncertainly.

“Maybe,” Luka agreed, and then things went silent again.

“…I’ve never had a summer like this before,” Adrien whispered, and the sound was almost lost in the torrent.

“Is that a good thing?” Luka wondered.

Adrien’s answer was immediate and accompanied by a wide grin. “Yes. Definitely.”

His smile turned a little sheepish as he thought to explain, “I mean…even though some really bad things have happened to me, I feel like, now, I have a lot more freedom.”

He met Luka’s eyes, hoping that some of the gratitude he felt would get through. “For the first time, I feel like I have some control over my life.”

“Good,” Luka responded with genuine joy on Adrien’s behalf. “That’s really good, Perfect Fifth. I’m glad you feel that way.”

“Thank you,” Adrien stressed earnestly, setting his cup aside and angling his body more to face Luka.

“If it weren’t for you and your family…” He swallowed down his overwhelming emotions and tried again. “I hope you know how much I appreciate everything that you guys have done for me. I’m sure I seem ungrateful at times, but I promise I’m not taking anything for granted. I’m so lucky to be here, so thank you for taking me in and taking care of me.”

“Of course,” Luka assured, setting down his tea mug on the coffee table. “I’m really enjoying having you here and spending so much time with you.”

Luka’s hand brushed Adrien’s on the seat of the couch, and Adrien’s breathing stuttered.

Luka licked his lips nervously, and his eyes were so full of meaning as he confessed softly, “I really like being with you, Adrien.”

Adrien swallowed, gravitating incrementally closer to Luka, as if gradually being sucked into a whirlpool.

“I like being with you too,” Adrien breathed.

Their eyes were locked on one another like magnets.

Luka leaned in.

Slowly, inexorably, they drew closer and closer, heads tipping ever so slightly, eyes drifting closed.

Luka’s hand wrapped around Adrien’s and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

Breaths mingled, noses brushed, and a crack of thunder suddenly brought Adrien back to his senses.

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