#(Edit: This Was Drafted But I STILL LAUGH remembering This Line Now)

[lucienarcheron]

SJM Live Event 9.26.2023

This was so fun! I loved the questions and rapport between Christian Lauren and Sarah. Below is a recap of what was discussed :)

She looks great!

They met years ago when SJM was still writing TOG (on book two)

COURTOFMASS helped narrow down the questions so AYY fandom

CL likes to see when people try to summarize the SJM’s books so they asked SJM to summarize CC

SJM’s palms were sweating (LOL) and she summarized it as “a mix of urban fantasy, fantasy, fantasy but modern world - kick ass snarky heroine who goes on a journey of self-discovery and healing with hot ass dudes and hot sex”

“Doesn’t look any family members in the eye” because of her smut (lol)

SJM doesn’t look at any theories. “I say no in the most loving way”

She doesn’t have social media on her phone so she’s not lurking around on the internet. She just wants to stay in her creative bubble. Every now and then a friend will send her something “lol look at this crazy theory” 

Creating CC / what was that like? 

It was a year-long process and ongoing as she was writing it. She’s back living in NYC and growing up in the city inspired a lot of this book. The idea came to her on a plane while on tour (possibly HOF) and she heard a piece of music, and saw Danika’s voice reaching out to Bryce. It’s when she burst into tears and Bryce came to life (she’s told us this before). She kind of worked in reverse as it unraveled in her mind. It’s something she thought about for years and it was her “fun” / side project. Over the course of a bunch of years, until TOG was starting to wrap up, she kept coming back to it. 

This was the story she wanted to tell because she loved Bryce and Hunt so much by that point. It was over the course of years daydreaming about this story and peeling away the images of the story. She had a lot of fun writing this book.

How does she keep track of the worlds she creates?

Publisher has an official bible which they constantly reference and she has an awesome editor that remembers all the important stuff and small moments/lines. She has a terrible memory in real life but SJM keeps all her stories occupied in her brain. Also keeps a bunch of notebooks.

We don’t know much about Hunt’s origin so are we going to find out about his parentage and background in the next book? 

We will learn more about Hunt in the next book. As for his well-being, “I make no promises. I’m not saying anything about anything.” LOL. “I will say that when I was working on HOSAB my editor and I were thinking about what was the most horrible thing that could happen.” Originally she considered him getting his wings chopped off again but her editor was like “what can be worse” and it’s the slave tattoo again. A new level of trauma for him to unload in the next book. “He has a lot of room to grow and shit to deal with it. Poor Hunt, he’s in for a journey coming up.” 

Will we find out more about the Autumn King? Does he connect to the Autumn Court?

Yes, we will learn more (about him not necessarily yes to the Autumn Court connection). “He’s not a father in any way.” In the process of writing and editing, he’s become one of her favorite to write because he’s so horrible and terrible. He’s capable of doing the right thing but doesn’t. He’s just a fucked up, horrible person. It’s a lot of fun to put opposing characters in a room to see what happens (bryce vs autumn king). It’s so satisfying for her to see a woman get one up on a douchey asshole.

Ruhn question - Some headcanon in the SJM fandom (that I didn’t quite catch but it made them all laugh) Something about Ruhn and vibrators? Sarah nearly fell down the stairs laughing about this. Now that she’s thinking about sweet Ruhn and where he is, she feels bad. (SARAH NO).

Talked about her writing process - Sometimes she will write a whole draft and realize it’s not what she wants. When she was working on HOFAS, she was going through some shit (didn’t want to elaborate) and she wrote the whole thing but then she didn’t like it. She was “meh” about it. She knew she hadn’t found the right story and it wasn’t good enough. She is very intense about her writing and wants to put her very best writing out there. 

There’s a little bit of an extra gap between the books because she had her baby but also she went through the first/second round of edits with other things going on that she wasn’t in the right space. She felt like she needed to throw out the whole thing and start over. She wrote a brand new draft in 4-5 weeks and then she found the story. A couple of scenes stayed from the first draft but almost of it is new. She never wants to put out any work she doesn’t believe in. “You can’t fix a blank page.” so it’s all part of the writing process for her. 

For example, the book she’s working on now - spent the whole day writing a scene but she doesn’t like it and it’s part of the process. 

What it was like waiting for readers to get to the ending of HOSAB / Another author asked about when she decided to crash her worlds together the author can’t fathom that Sarah didn’t plan this out from the beginning so when Aelin went through the worlds and Rhys sees her - “Are you some crazy genius where all these little breadcrumbs come into your brain or was it intentional?” 

Not a genius in any way. Talks about her son and how he says “I’m Sarah J Mask” - her kids keep her humble (lmao). Her son is obsessed with Taylor Swift so it doesn’t matter what she does, she’ll never be Taylor Swift so she’ll never be cool (lol). She loves Taylor and has so much respect for her and now she knows all her songs because they only listened to her in the car. She has the little golden book of TS for her son (LOL). In the eyes of her son, TS is the only creative genius and she is all for it. 

When it comes to the ending of this book, she knew for a while and knew these worlds overlapped before she started working on KOA. She knew Aelin was going to crash through these worlds and had already started daydreaming on CC. When she wrote that scene of Aelin, she wanted her to go through the ACOTAR world and see Feysand then had her go through the CC world. When she was really working on CC officially, while daydreaming about it, she got into this idea of the worlds and how they’re all technically connected. She remembered having this “what the fuck” moment of HOSAB’s ending. “I don’t know what’s happening to my body” and everything clicked in. While working on CC1, she was able to plant some seeds.

When she finally wrote the end of HOSAB with Rhys, she cried. Things had just completely gone to shit in CC and “my wonderful Rhys” comes in. One of her favorite parts that she’s ever written. 

Will we see ACOTAR characters coming in/having POVs? - “I’m not saying anything about anything.”  We will see some of the ACOTAR world. It basically picks up close to where we left off.

Is Dankia really dead - “Um, yeah.” LOL “She is dead and as much as I wish was miraculously living, she’s dead.”

Is Connor really dead - “Yes?” LOL

Does Emil really have no powers? - Passed on answering this. “I like it.”

With magic being weaker in the modern world, do mates mean the same thing in the fantasy (ACOTAR/TOG) as they do in the modern world? - Pass because (they started speaking over each other here but I assume it will be because we will understand more of this in HOFAS). 

Is Hunt really Bryce’s mate - “Am I going to destroy some kind of theory?” She answered, “YES, HE IS HER MATE.”  She talked about how she’s changed the LI in her other series (the FMC’s first LI not being her last one) but with CC she kept the same LI from the beginning to the end -  “If they both make it to the end.” (she’s so mean for this LOL)

When the first ACOTAR book came out, it was hard for her to keep Feysand a secret because people would tell her how much they loved Tamlin and she had to just smile awkwardly about it (lolol).

How much of Bryce’s power has she accessed? - We’ll see in the next book!

They talked a little about parenting and their kids aging and personal stories for a bit. 

CL mentioned SJM previously saying that people won’t need to read ACOTAR to read CC and vice versa. Is that statement still true? - “You should read ACOTAR and if you haven’t read ACOTAR and get to HOSAB, it’ll make you want to read it.” She had them put an AD in the back of HOSAB for people to read ACOTAR. She then said, “I do not stand by that statement. I renounce this statement. Read ACOTAR first.” (👀)

Discussed the cover of HOFAS and whether the cover has a dragon head - “I am not saying anything. There are always easter eggs.”  She added, “We made sure there were many easter eggs.”  It’s probably her favorite cover. It came together so beautifully. 

Did she write HOSAB in order? - She’s always super pumped to write her endings. She has to write in a linear/chronical fashion and she dangles the ending as motivation. She was powering through the rest of the book so she could get to writing the endings of HOSAB. It was the same with ACOSF with Nesta in the Blood Rite and saving Feyre. 

What were some of the most fun/favorite/hardest scenes- In HOEAB, when Hunt discovers Bryce’s unicorn collection. Sarah has collections of My Little Pony and has been in bidding wars for them. She loves them LOL.  Another scene will always be Bryce and Danika doing the drop. She still cries thinking about it. “Call me sentimental, cheesy, or whatever - I believe in our darkest moments we aren’t alone.”  That scene means a lot to her. 

In HOSAB - she loved the opening of the book where they’re basically at a frat party “Wonder where the inspo for that came from” LOL / She loves the little moments of them living their lives and getting to be themesleevs in between disasters. She loved it when Ruhn was super stoned lmao. She also loved the scene with The Hind and Ithan in the bar as well as the end of HOSAB with the Hind revealing herself to her Ruhn; she cried a lot while writing those scenes. 

She gets so emotionally involved with her books/characters. Most of the book is what she loves. She needs to be obsessed with her book because she has to read it over so many times and stay in love with it as she rereads it.

She remembers seeing tear stains on copies of her manuscripts. She loves all her characters so much and they make it worth it across all the series. They feel real to her.  She’s getting to see them in all aspects of their lives. 

Three Bigger Questions - 

One of the reasons they clicked as friends is because they have the same fangirl heart - CL loves her passion for things. How does it feel to have this fandom follow her the way she follows her favorites? Sarah mentions how she was a fangirl of CL first. 

It feels weird to even say fandom for her books. It’s beyond anything she’s ever hoped for herself. There’s no ego here but she grew up as a fangirl for so many things so it blows her mind that people connect with these characters and worlds and that they mean something to them. She also has a profound sense of gratitude that she gets to do what she loves because of the people who read her books. She’s deeply appreciative of the joy and enthusiasm we bring to the books. It’s a very humbling and moving thing to inspire someone. 

Every time she sees someone reading her book, she walks up to them and talks about it apparently! One girl on the street walked by her and Josh and they saw a tattoo of the mountain with three stars and they wanted to ask her about it. Sarah sent Josh to ask her about her tattoo. “He wasn’t cool about it, he just blurted it out.”  She then introduced herself but the girl didn’t seem to believe her HAHA. “No makeup and in regular street clothes. I think she thought I was a lunatic on the street. I don’t think she left the encounter believing it was me.” “I’m going to be quiet and not scare people anymore.” 

She saw a guy on the subway reading ACOMAF “Is he reading some sexy ass stuff on the subway?” but he was reading it because his gf was reading it.

It blows her mind seeing people read her books in real life just like seeing her book on shelves never gets old. 

Now that CC3 is done, what are you working on now? 

Currently working on/drafting the next ACOTAR novel! That’s all she will say. She has become so focused and excited writing this book. She described it as the feeling when you’re first obsessed with someone and all they’re thinking about. For the next god knows how many months or “a million years”  LOL

#sjm #sarah j maas #crescent city #hosaf #hosab #hosab spoilers #acotar #sjm live

[gyll-yee-haw]

ok but imagine jake has been away filming for so long and one time when you talk through the phone late at night you tell him you miss him sm and along the lines you say sth like „i can’t even come without you anymore” and he goes insane on dirty talk just to be at your doorstep the next day i-

PLEASE, I FOUND THIS ON MY DRAFTS FROM LITERALLY YEARS AGO 😭

I edited a bit and decided to give y'all an early Christmas presents, love you <3

Warnings: masturbation, phone sex, mentions of a reader who struggles to cum, very desperate reader, tiny mentions of being tied up and a lil dom!Jake.

You and Jake had been together long enough for you to get used to all his travels and how busy he got at work. But you still didn't.

He was now away for almost three months. You were losing your mind.

It was another one of those nights when you walked into your bedroom and sighed sadly before going to bed. Jake wasn't there to hold you. To talk to you with his sweet and relaxing voice while you rested your head on his chest and fell asleep.

That must be why sleeping was so hard. Why you kept tossing and turning and sighing frustratedly. You were angry. Sad. Exhausted. You gave up and decided to call him. You hated to bother him and you didn't want him to feel guilty for working so hard. But taking to him was usually the only thing that made you feel better on nights like that.

"Hi, love." He greeted you happily.

"Hey… oh god, it's so good to hear your voice." You told him, feeling a little better already.

"It's great to hear yours too." He chuckled. "So, how was your day?"

The two of you spent a few minutes telling each other stories that happened since the last time you talked. It was amazing, he warmed your heart and made you laugh a lot.

But at some point, the atmosphere got a little sad again.

"I just wish you were here with me." He told you. "Everytime I go out I see something and think 'I bet y/n would love this'… would be a lot more fun if you were here."

"Yeah, I think about you all day too." You said. "And then I curse you for being so fucking hot."

"What do you mean, honey?" He laughed.

"I'm desperate." You admited. "I'm so used to you fucking me so good. And now I can't even cum without you anymore."

There was a little moment of silence on the phone.

"Wait…" He finally said. "Are you telling me you didn't cum at all these last months?"

When Jake traveled for only a few days, you always made a deal to not masturbate, cause when you saw each other again, it would be awesome. But since he would be away for months, you agreed it would be okay, in case you needed to.

"No, all I do is disappoint myself." You shrugged.

"We need to fix that, baby…" He suggested. "Come on, do you want my help? I'm here now... listen to my voice and do what I say, okay, princess?"

Something about that drastic change on the tone of the conversation gave your stomach butterflies.

"Okay... what... what should I do?" You asked.

"Okay, listen to me." He instructed you. "You're gonna lay on your back. Take your panties off. Flex your knees like I was on top of you and you were wrapping them around my waist... like you could feel me deep inside you, remember that feeling?"

Your heart was racing. You really hoped that would work, cause he was getting you worked up now.

You followed every step of his plan, and told him: "Done".

"Good girl. Now spit on your fingers and start touching your pussy until you're wet enough."

You brought your fingers to your mouth, then guided them to your folds, trying to recreate the path Jake's tongue usually follwed. But it still felt like you were touching any other part of your skin. It wasn't like that with Jake. Whenever he just LOOKED at your pussy he already had you bucking your hips.

"Baby?" He called after you were silent for too long.

"It's boring." You told him.

"Use your imagination, honey." He chuckled. "If I was there, what would you like me to do to you?"

"Anything you wanted. Absolutely anything at all."

"Oh yeah?" You could hear the smirk on his voice. "I think I would like to tie your hands above your head and rub the tip of my cock on your clit until you were crying. Then I would shove it inside you at once, and fuck you mercilessly, make you look like a dumb little slut, absolutely speechless, but so fucking beautiful with her eyes rolled back, screaming my name…"

"Fuck." Now you were wet. And even more desperate than before. There wasn't a single cell on your body that didn't crave his touch. "You're making it worse…"

"Oh my God, baby…" He ignored your negativity. "You can't imagine how fucking hard I am for you now."

"Let me see!!!" You begged. "Let's FaceTime instead."

"No, keep touching yourself." He said firmly.

"Please, I can't do it…" You insisted.

"I am helping you, angel. You have to learn how to take care of yourself when I'm not home." He explained.

"What about a video? Or just a photo?"

"Don't be a little brat just because I'm not there to slap you. I can simply turn my phone off and go to sleep, leave you on your own. Is that what you want?"

"No, sorry, sir…"

"Good. Now touch your clit, baby… just I do, you know how you like it."

You closed your eyes and tried to picture the things he said before. You lead two fingers to your clit and started rubbing it slowly. At first, it still felt like nothing. But when you hit just the right spot, your back arched and you moaned.

"Yes, good girl… feel good, huh?" He reacted to your moans.

"Yes, Jakey… fuck…"

You kept rubbing that very specific spot and moaning just to let Jake know you were feeling good. Still wasn't as good as it was when he did it with his big fingers, but at least you were feeling something.

"You sound so beautiful right now, angel. Wish I was there to taste you. That's why I don't wanna FaceTime you, honey. Do you think I'm not dying to see that pretty pussy? Of course I am, but it hurts that I can't put my mouth on it. Lick it real good until your legs are shaking around my head. I miss it so much, fuck…"

His words alone were driving you crazy, but it was the sound of him stroking his cock that made your pussy clench around nothing.

"Talk to me, pretty girl. I'm stroking my cock, thinking of you too." He asked sweetly.

"Fuck... need you… what if I can't do it?"

"You can do it, baby. Don't you feel good right now? Rub it harder, baby."

"Hhmm... I need to cum so bad…" You grew more desperate as time passed and you couldn't even imagine how terrible it would be to not be able to do it that night.

"You will, angel. Looks like I'm gonna have to give you a lesson about patience when I come back." He threatened you, and you would do anything to have those lessons now.

The waves kept coming and going. Just when you thought were going to cum, you got all excited but it went away. You were so fucking wet that your fingers slipped through your folds and you missed the spot several times, making you sigh frustratedly. Jake knew it usually didn't take you that long, and he was getting close himself, just picturing you laying there desperate, soaked, legs in the air, rubbing your pussy so hard while you thought about him.

"I can't do it, I can't." You cried out.

"Please, babygirl." He was the one begging now. "Please cum for me, be a good girl for me, I can't hold it much longer…"

You closed your eyes and imagined he was sitting right beside you, ready to shoot his load on your belly and your breasts. It was a pretty realistic fantasy, cause you could hear his moans through the phone, indicating he was really close.

That was it. Suddenly, another one of those waved came. This one was so strong, and just wasn't going away like the others did.

"OH FUCK!" You moaned loud and excitedly. "I'm coming right now, oh my God, right… now... fuuuuck…"

"Yes, babygirl, do it…" He said, feeling his own orgasm building. "Don't stop, oh fuck…"

Fucking finally. It had been so long. Your back arched and all your muscles flexed and you moaned during every second of it. When your body relaxed, you weren't capable of doing anything, not even thinking.

"Baby, talk to me, fuck." Jake called for the third time, but you didn't even hear the first ones.

"I did it." You told him, all smiley. "I'm in heaven, I swear. Fuck... I needed this, so bad..."

"Proud of you, babygirl." He chuckled. "But you should have told me this so much earlier."

"I definitely should." You agreed. "Do you think we can do this again someday?"

"Not a chance." He sighed frustratedly. "I swear I'm getting on the first plane tomorrow. My baby needs me and it breaks my heart to not be there for her..."

After all, you knew that both of you could touch yourselves all you wanted, even together like you just did, but nothing would compare to the real thing.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x yn

[tropes-and-tales]

Cute as a June Bug

December 14:  Mistletoe/Hands - Fake dating (Horacio Carrillo x F!reader)

(From the winter prompts found here)

CW:  The post convoluted plot point yet; fluff; pining; no edits, just posted straight from the first draft

Word Count:  1322

AN:  Requested by two separate anons!

It’s humiliating.  It’s a humiliating situation for any man, let alone the head of the Search Bloc.  

He’s not a child.  He’s a goddamned man, and yet…here he is, in this humiliating position.

“You look nice, boyfriend,” you tell him, and then you snort, laugh at your own joke.  You reach out to straighten his tie, but he bats your hands away with a grumble.

“Stop it,” Horacio says.  “Drop the act until we need it.”

“Until you need it, you grump.”  You turn to the mirror in your entryway and lean close to the glass as you study your lipstick.  You drag a fingertip against your lower lip, fix a line.  “Remember, I’m only here because you asked.”

He wishes you wouldn’t remind him.  After his divorce from Juliana, Horacio had enjoyed (maybe not enjoyed, exactly) a period of quiet.  A period of resetting, of regrouping.

And then his mother launched her assault:  Adella Carrillo couldn’t rest until her youngest son was settled in a new marriage, and she had called him constantly with the names of available women she knew.  Women eager to meet her handsome, important son, women willing to overlook his atrocious hours and difficult work…

Horacio Carrillo is a tough man, but he never could withstand the barrages from his mother.  He snapped a month in, lied.  Said he was seeing someone.

The lie, like many lies, spun out of control.  Each conversation with his mother required more details.  He was steadily backed into the corner, and most of the lies…well, he works with you.  It was an easy thing to talk to his mother on the phone from his office while gazing out across the bullpen at you.  

It was easy to supply the lies with details about you.  Your name.  Your job with the Americans, the agent with the DEA who focuses on intel, working with the CIA.  What you look like.

Hell, Carrillo even knows enough of your likes and dislikes to provide those too.

But then his mother pulls her master stroke:  an invitation to the family Christmas party, and Carrillo is trapped like a rat.

-----

He’ll only find out later why you agree to it.  You hide it so well, your crush on him—he never even guesses.  You only tell him later, an entire year later when you’re his girlfriend and soon to be his fiancée.  You only admit it moments before he offers you the ring and moments before you accept it.

When he asks you to pose as his fake girlfriend, though, you give him a sly grin and ask what’s in it for you.  He offers you money, offers you better hours and days off, but you wave him away and say you’ll do it for nothing.

His first clue, then.  He misses it entirely.

-----

“You do look nice,” you repeat now, and your voice loses its teasing edge.  You look at him earnestly, and he feels some of his anxiety bleed off.  You won’t let this go sideways on him.  He trusts you when you’re in the field.  He trusts the intel you give them—always good, golden stuff.

He trusts you now.

“You look nice too,” he replies.  You do:  he used to seeing you in jeans and button-down camp shirts, but you’re in a wrap dress and heels, red lipstick and hair done.  

“So one more time.  How long have we been seeing each other?” you ask, and you watch his reflection in the mirror.

“Six months.”

“And you asked me out.”

He smiles.  “Yes.”

“Our first date.  You took me to a steakhouse.”

“That’s right.”  A beat, and then he lists out the things he’s told his mother about you—all the intel he had at the time.  You nod at each detail and only correct him on one bit, the number of siblings you have.

“Here’s the million dollar question, Horacio,” you say, still watching him in the mirror.  “Why did you decide to ask me out?”

The lies work best when they are nearest to the truth, so that’s what he does.  

“I asked you out because you’re smart and good at your job.  And you make me laugh.”

That pulls a laugh out of you.  “I’ve never heard you laugh in my life.  I’m lucky to get a smile.”

“That’s because you only know me at work.”  He reaches past you and opens your door, then gestures for you to walk through it.  “I’m a different man with my family.”

“Oh, family Carrillo,” you tease, but you let him lay his hand on your lower back and gently steer you out to the street.  “He’s a nicer guy than Search Bloc Carrillo.  That guy could crack granite with his steely gaze.”

He ignores your teasing.  “Remember to be careful with the idioms and slang.  My family speaks English well but it’s formal.”

“So I can’t say that I think you’re as cute as a June bug?”

He glances at you.  “My family won’t know what a June bug is.  I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a giant beetle.”

“Doesn’t sound cute at all,” he grumbles.

-----

You interrogate each other on the drive to his parents’ house, and while Carrillo is nervous, he’s pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not that bad.  He’s not riddled with anxiety.  Despite your teasing, you’ve put him at ease.

At his childhood home, he parks and then comes around to the passenger’s side of the car to open your door.  He takes your hand to help you out, but when he goes to release it, you hold him fast.

“Is this okay?” you ask.  “Too much PDA if we hold hands?”

“No, it’s…”  He clears his throat.  “It’s good.”

Just outside the door, you pause and turn to him.  You offer him a reassuring smile, and there’s a warmth there that dissipates any lingering nervousness.

“This is going to go well,” you tell him.  “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.  Company manners only.”

He returns your smile with his own.  “I know.  I trust you.”  He hesitates and adds, “I appreciate this.”

“Of course.”  You squeeze his hand, then tilt your head at the door.  “Now go introduce your smart girlfriend who’s good at her job and makes you laugh to your family.”

-----

The party does go well, as you said it would.  You charm his family with your good manners, your humor.  You tease him gently, which charms his mother in particular:  she’s always said that Horacio is too serious, so she’s happy that he’s with someone who can chip away at that reserve.

You enter the party as his fake girlfriend, a coworker doing him a favor, but that hard line already starts to crumble.  Near the end of the night when you’re tipsy on wine and he’s loose and warm from the success of his coup and the convivial nature of the party, you catch yourselves lingering in a doorway.  He has his arm around your waist, lightly resting his hand on your hip, and your head is tilted against his shoulder.  You’re watching the party from the sidelines, but one of Horacio’s teenaged nieces notices what you each have missed.

“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing above your heads.  “You have to kiss her, Tío.”

You’re tipsy on wine, and Horacio guesses that’s why you tilt your head up to him with a shy smile.  He’s tipsy on the moment—and later on, after he’s dropped you off at your apartment and he’s home in his bed alone, he’ll admit it:  he’s tipsy on you too.  A surprising thing, how perfect you feel against him.

“It’s the rules,” he tells you softly with a shrug.  

“You’re nothing if not a stringent rule-follower,” you reply, and you gift him with the barest of nods, an invitation.

So he bends his head and follows the rules:  he kisses you.

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo imagine #horacio carrillo x reader #colonel horacio carrillo #colonel horacio carrillo x reader #colonel Carrillo #colonel carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo imagine #narcos #tropes-and-tales #winter prompts 2022

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi Ro😌❤️

Ask：

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

12. Do you have a playlist for your current WIP(s)? Share it!

Hello, dearie! I'm still pondering the intense headcanon you wrote for me... 😅 Lloyd is an interesting character for me to go toe-to-toe with, but I love a good challenge. 🤭

Questions are from this ask list!

2. Ack...I hate to admit it because sometimes it makes me feel self-congratulatory or self-promoting (a thing I struggle not to vehemently loathe), but yes, I reread my own fics. I edit the hell out of most of them--at least there are parts which get read and rewritten a dozen times,--but every so often, usually months after posting, I'll revisit something for reference.

Mostly, I find f**king typos, but there are bits that I read and remember how I laughed thinking up that line or scenario or how I felt trying to put something into words.

Things hit differently at different times. I've reread stuff I was super proud of and thought "this is garbage" while other stuff I just posted from a hastily written draft in tumblr's app and now think "wtf that's genius, where'd that come from?"

6. All the time? No. I'm pushing myself to read more, and I'm a very slow reader. If I'm ever gonna be a good participant in the fic community, I have to spend my reading time on newer stuff/things I haven't read before (which is also why it's so rare that I reread my own fics unless it's for reference farther along in a story).

12. I don't have Spotify or a way to share playlists, but I actually tend to build lists seasonally and add things I keep listening to as rollovers. I made one (which included y'alls lovely suggestions) for Hideout--the link is in the masterlist post,-- but before that, the only fic playlist I'd made was/is for The Stark Legacy.

I often don't realize that I am writing in silence or that music went off a long time ago. I think, perhaps, my mind is very noisy when I'm imagining or planning scenes. If the wrong song/type of song is playing in that moment, I just turn the music off instead of wasting time searching for the right mood.

Thank you for asking!

What about you guys? How do you best write and/or read? Has it changed for you in recent months/years? Does it change between characters or genres?

#ro answers #ask game #writing asks

[crazy-bi-btch]

The Multi-Verse: Spider-Girl

Authors Note: Alrighty, soooo during this hiatus I was able to log back into my old fanfic writing accounts. Please tell me I am NOT the only one that predicted the Multi-verse in my drafted fic ideas 😅 I wrote this back in 2013 after watching The Amazing Spider-Man, Which unleashed creative juices flowing in my pre-pubescent brain 😂 I have decided since this beautiful idea is just sitting in my drafts why not give it a shot? P.S. I am adding and editing a lot since my grammar has gotten a lottttt better than then. I hope you like this little baby fic ;)

INTRO

Loss is a hell of a killer- or what is it called nowadays….Ah yes! Character development.

My first memory of loss was at 6 years old when I was forced away to my uncle and aunts house. It was a dark and stormy night, I still remember how sticky the air felt as the humid New York air hit my small hands and face. My mother cried as she clutched me so hard I felt I was suffocating. How ironic.

So many questions, no answers.

From arriving to the familiar apartment, seeing my aunt and uncle in their night robes. Concern and worry in their expression. I sat quietly on the mahogany stairs. My favorite blanket, crushed in between my small hands. Even at 6 years old, my intuition and anxiety took hold of my small body. Tears pooling at my corneas. Suddenly the agonizing chatter of the four adults becoming static. Almost deafening at how silent the world became as my dad cradled me one last time and my mother’s weeping state as she kissed me repeatedly trying to anchor herself to me as my dad pulled her away from me. I watched in agony, as the streets of Bronx ate away the shadow of the dark car. That was the last time I saw and held them.

Alright, enough of the melodrama…. Where were we??

My therapist says I am strong and all I have to say is… thats it? That’s all I am?

Of course she became flustered and stammered a stupid line of compliments. I bursted out laughing as I realized my sarcasm flew over her head. Then she lectured me how humor was not a healthy coping mechanism to deal with uncomfortable life situations. Damn she really can be uptight at times.

Well you may be asking by now, who are you and why the hell are you telling me your traumatic life story. Well, long story short- I am Spider-Girl....

-TO BE CONTINUED-

#marvel #spiderman #the amazing spider man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #andrew garfield #marvel comics #spider-man: no way home #marvel multiverse

[natasha-in-space]

Hello hello! I'm here with some fanfic writer asks! 🤡, 🛠, 💋 and 👀 please!

Ohhh these are all very interesting indeed! Thanks for giving me a chance to ramble about my writing Faye <33

🤡 - What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Oh, I love writing silly or playful banter in my works. It happens naturally most of the time, as I imagine characters interacting with one another. I think that's reflective of my own personality. I often use playfulness as a form of expressing affection! I'm kind of similar to Saeyoung on that front, hehe.

I think one of my favorites with this in mind is the favorite character/first date fic I did for last year's Mystictober with Unknown and Natasha. I don't know how my writing holds up there now, as it was a year ago, and I always see a huge improvement in my style as I look back on my old works, but I remember having a blast with that one! I was giggling away the whole time writing it. Natasha is someone who usually gets teased, and not the other way around, but with the Mint Eye version of her, I can put her into situations where she gets noticeably bolder. Fractured Heart is an angst story, though, so we don't get much of that side of her there.

A playful afternoon with Vanderwood and reader is also one of my favorites. Who knew being called old-fashioned meant calling someone old!?

Looking back, I think there's a pattern here of teasing grumpy characters... 😶😶😶

🛠 - What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

Depends on where I am! Believe or not, I usually don't have access to my laptop, so I end up writing on my phone more often than not. For that, I just use an old fashioned phone notes app! I figured out that I easily get distracted if I'm trying to write in an app that looks too janky, so I need there to be only my writing for me to see. If I do have my laptop at hand, I use google docs! But, I usually end up using it for writing out helpful notes and reminders that I'll use in the bigger fics. Now, with editing, things go a little bit more in depth. English is not my native language, and while I did get tremendously better at it (in part thanks to this lovely blog of mine!), I can still make a silly mistake or two. I use Grammarly to check for those, but only sparingly, as it can get confused with dialogue scenes specifically. The other two things I use fairly regularly are OneLook (kind of a reverse dictionary: you put in a vague description and get a word for it. Very helpful when English is not your first language) and many different cheat lists I have saved up in case I get lost on what I'm trying to convey.

💋 - First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

Oh, I adore first kiss fics. What I find so damn fun about them is how many varieties there are. There are so many ways to make your characters smooch for the first time! Is it planned? Or not? Is it slow? Fast? Do they get to talk about it afterwards? So many possibilities. I must admit, I mostly make my characters kiss for the first time in a spur of a moment. It's usually very emotional, and more often than not, in the middle of conflict. What can I say, I love myself some drama :)

👀 - Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I'm working on chapter 2 for Wilted Daffodil currently! I won't spoil much, but it is focused on Chaewon and Yoosung specifically. It sure is an odd experience to write for Chaewon while she's in a sound state of mind (more or less). Makes me laugh, because most of the content you see of her on my blog is how she is at the time Natasha meets her. We'll get there! Here's a rough wip from the first draft!

#mia talks #fanfic writer ask game

[nothisis-ridiculous]

WIP

I'm still alive? Probably for like the eightieth time.

Not super edited, and a draft but I wrote something.

"Don't leave me behind-," the biotic whined, barely able to pant out the short few words. Normally, she would mock such a derailment from his usual behavior, Alenko never begged, but this was not a normal time.

As if on cue, another blast ripped her attention away from the shuttle. They needed to get the fuck out of here. No more time for arguing. Shepard had dallied enough; this field was not a place for a tearful goodbye. Mary had already done the goodbyes, and her soldier mindset was beyond tears if the regular Mary allowed herself to cry in the first place. Her gaze swiveled back to the shuttle with a huff, why now Kaidan?

But there was one obvious answer. 

What was the harm in another moment's delay? A last glance over the faces of her crew. Steve's gentle frown as he stole a last glance in her direction, the pilot itched to return to the relative safety of the air and movement. James' hesitation to jump from the shuttle, to join his trainer in the glory of the final push. The Quarian's claws raked across the front of her suit, calling out her name gently. She had to ignore it. Doubling down on that effort when Edi and Liara joined in on the beckoning. Javik remained on duty, watching for anything his rifle could mow down. Garrus' mandibles vibrated as he yanked Kaidan upright and back into the shuttle's hull. 

Mary had never noticed before how many of her crew sported blue eyes.

The faded grin felt foreign as another blast shook her back into the moment, into the smokey battleground filled with the carcasses of organics and machines alike, husks illuminated by the blue light of the beam. Fuck, she needed to hurry.

"You're in no con-" another torrent of sound drowned out her words.

Kaidan's eyebrows drew further up, his latest attempt to lunge forward exposing the pain beneath his physical injuries. Mary reconsidered her words, the beats between the next screech of the laser beams that grew closer to eliminating the sitting duck. Fuck, this really was goodbye. There was no miracle getting her out of this. She had to get her team out of this deathtrap.

Just one thing left to be said, one less regret.

"No matter what happens," she stole a few steps toward the arms that held her just hours earlier, "know that I love you," her voice lowered, almost unheard over the clash of the battle around them. Uttering words she had meant to say for years, but never did it feel like the right time. Now, still, wasn't the right time, but in the twilight of their time together, they begged to slip free or be lost, "Always."

Her hand traced the line of his cheek and jaw, hoping it would leave something worthwhile to fade out on. A salve to push back against the guilt gnawing at her conscious, she was forcing him to break a promise. Hurtling down the path of betrayal as she spoke such pretty words.

His half-laugh rocked through her core, disbelief tied into the bittersweet humor and timing of her timid confession, but still he drank in her touch, burrowing as far as he could to seek the warmth hidden beneath her glove, "I love you, too."

This revelation was nothing new; Kaidan was braver than she deserved. Worlds more patient than he should have endured.  

Mary genuinely smiled despite herself and the thudding of her heart that filled with lead. The moment's elation gave her the strength to pull away from him, from the memory that would cause her to shirk the mission, or worse, allow him to join her. With a heart weighed with resolve, her gaze hardened on Garrus. This was a Commander's order, not the request of a friend, "go."

"Be careful," the voice all rasp and warmth as she fled.

It might seem brave to any outsider that she bolted toward her fate, full attention placed on the path to the beam. Instead it was fear that she did not turn to watch the shuttle depart and a selfish desire that she remembered Kaidan's face etched in gentleness. Not the horror as he realized she would go on without him once again, bringing words he had uttered mere hours ago to fruition. Probably for the last time.

#shenko #mass effect fanficiton #kaidan alenko #fshenko #female shepard #mary shepard #how tumblr?

[a-lil-perspective]

70 Encouragements/Tips For The Writer:

A/N: Rules don’t exist. These are real and personal and stem from a deteriorating, exhausted Writer who is here to tell you (and herself) that you are amazing and keep going. I hope you find some encouragement within.

Your mental health comes first and foremost.

Indulge and embrace your creative writing pieces when they come (and when they don’t). Especially when they don’t.

Suffering from Writer’s Block or fluctuating hyperfixation? Me too. So is your favorite author. Welcome to the Writer’s Block Party (all my uwus if you see the pun).

Did you spend five hours on this one segment, forget the last time you ate, develop chapped lips, dry eyes, and a stiff back (time to get up and move), bang your head on the wall, laugh, cry, fidget, take your ADHD meds, deviate to watch YouTube, have an epiphany, curse in frustration and wonder why the hell you do this to yourself? Congratulations, you’re a Writer.

Embrace all the not-so-glamorous sides of writing, and accept the fact they’re going to happen time over again.

When you say “just one more line” and it’s 2:00 AM, I’ll be here to remind you to “go to sleep” (because I’m also depriving myself lol).

Actually, sleeping helps your mind feel refreshed, and it’s good for your health. If you’re struggling with a particular segment, one of the best things you can do is just put a cap on it for the time being, put in a placeholder, and get some shut eye. I know you don’t want to. But you will feel so much better and have more clarity and energy to continue when you wake. Trust me.

More often than not, those words you “just didn’t write down fast enough and now forgot” end up revealing themselves to you later in a much more profound way. Give the words time to get ready. They’re just spiffing up before coming to visit. :)

Be proud of yourself and your prose. Writing is an amazing part of who you are.

That trope has been written 1000 times before? Make it 1001.

You’ve already written this scenario? Write it again.

You’ve just written a single sentence. Now sit back for moment and think: you just wrote something brand new, never before seen. Nobody out there will ever write that sentence or formulate those thoughts the exact same way. You are a unique, mind-blowing, awe-inspiring human being.

Bask in the excitement that comes with a completed piece. Reflect on what you learned throughout and celebrate the little victories.

Don’t be afraid to ask for feedback, but also understand that you might not always get it, and that is OK.

Please re-read your work. Be gentle with yourself. You had to write that very first piece to get to where you are now. Love the process.

Your personal writing success is not based off of kudos or likes or reblogs.

There is no right or wrong way to write.

There is no such thing as “good” writing.

Improvement is becoming of everyone so get comfy, strap in. The journey of a Writer is a lifelong one. Here’s to many more works ahead.

Don’t mourn the words you did or didn’t write. Celebrate the ones you will.

One day, you’ll read a piece that will blow you away—and it will be yours.

There is nothing “shameful” about reblogging your own writing works.

I promise you’ll find your “wow” piece—either in something you’ve already written, or something yet to come.

Baby. Please don’t write out of spite. You’re better than that.

You are just as valid/deserving as the next Writer. And you do belong.

If you feel sad/unworthy when sharing your works or interacting with others’, get to the root of why. Writing should be fun, rewarding, and relaxing. Not shameful, embarrassing, or a chore.

Writing (fanfiction, specifically) is labeled as “transformative works”. Self-explanatory, right? However, if you notice the transformative part begin to have a personal effect on you—a negative one—it’s time to take a step back.

Right now, I can name a single quality you possess: diligence. How do I know? Because you’re a Writer, and the two go hand-in-hand.

Got that single scene in your head but you haven’t completed or even began all the chapters preceding? Bruh. Jot that down right now. You don’t need 20k words beforehand.

Embrace your writing mood swings. The stray, sweet and condensed blurbie. The ideal, bridging drabble. The solid, substantial oneshot. The hefty, elaborate 10k word chapter. Appreciate everything in-between, and that you are capable of all of it.

Nobody remembers that extra word or typo or stray speech mark back all the way back in chapter 3. Tell the little monster in your head to go to hell.

You’re not a weirdo for making facial expressions and mulling through your dialogue aloud. You. Are. A. Writer.

It’s OK if the Readers can’t always see exactly what you envisioned in your head, or the full extent of the picture you painted. We all see colors differently.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with your writing.

In fact, challenge yourself to dabble into a new plot/trope/concept every day, even if only for a few minutes. You may discover you love writing it.

There’s no rush to finish/begin any written work. If you take your time, you will make your mark. You’re not falling behind or running late. Slow down and wait for it. :)

Three cheers for hiatus.

Listen to your body and mind, know your limits and when it’s time to take a break.

Actually take a break. :)

If you feel like you’re falling stagnant in creativity, looking to/revisiting other forms of creative media can help encourage the flow.

Ask for encouragement, and be at peace with asking.

Take shelter in fellow writers. Uplift each other always.

You are/will be someone’s favorite author. :)

You don’t have anything to prove. You have something to share.

Someone is thinking about your work right now.

Someone started a series because they drew inspiration from you.

Personal writing style can reflect a lot on the state of one’s mental health. Try to always be attentive to that of your own.

Self-validation must be cultivated early on or nothing will ever work.

Freestyle every once in a while. Write a snippet, timed, and go—without editing. Write the first thing that comes to mind and go from there. Do it all the way through the set time. When it stops, you’ll find yourself unable to. 3,800 words here we come. :)

Not everything needs an outline. :)

It is completely normal to write your story out of order.

Create guidelines for yourself. If they aren’t working, toss ‘em.

Word vomiting can help you feel better (it’s just how it sounds). By clearing all those jumbled thoughts and scattered concepts, you achieve a clearer objective. Try it sometime.

A rough draft is supposed to be rough.

Sometimes the words come to you quicker than others. Be patient. That is merely the construct of a Writer’s mind. You’re a beautiful enigma.

A sentence written is a story progressing.

Writing is an endurance sport. You must pace yourself and exercise it daily.

You are still a Writer even when the words aren’t on the actual page.

You’re not obligated to a writing/posting schedule.

As you progress in your journey and gain more awareness, don’t sacrifice your style. Those beginning works are what define you. Hold onto them and don’t ever let them go.

You’re the only one cringing—

Remember that sometimes words are elusive and you don’t always have control over them, and that is OK. Sometimes they write themselves. Sometimes your characters come to life and break out into dance across your page. Dance with them. You can wrangle them back when the music stops. :)

There is nothing condemning or embarrassing about asking for a beta. Allow someone to help carry the load.

Allow people to cheer you on—even if they don’t read your work.

It’s OK if your writing style isn’t someone else’s preference.

Be your biggest cheerleader. Sometimes you are all you have.

You don’t need anyone’s approval except your own.

You love that trope/concept/story you just wrote? That’s all that matters. The end.

You will never write good. You will write you. And that is good.

Above all else: remember to write for you.🤍

#writers #fanfiction writers #writing encouragement #writer appreciation #writer support #writer struggles #writing motivation #writers tips #for writers #omg am I struggling. #hope these help you beautiful people #my writing #it’s a lil thing

[chiwhorei]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭

cross-posted to Ao3!

pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~4.4k

tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited

a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come. 

the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani

hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich

and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.

How the fuck did you get here?

***

You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.

“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.

Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget. 

“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots. 

“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.

You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing. 

“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.

Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space. 

“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.” 

You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance. 

Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West

The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.

 You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest. 

He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”

“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.

He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil. 

“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.

“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.” 

“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.

The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.

You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.

The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.

“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.

You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.

“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”

If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle. 

“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.

Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.

“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.

“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--

“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.

You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins. 

“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”

A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.

Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.

“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.

You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.

“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”

You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--

“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.” 

That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet. 

You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back. 

“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”

“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~” 

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.” 

The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.

Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice. 

* * *

The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.

Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.

You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.

Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming. 

 Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.

Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.

His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding. 

Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.

His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.

 All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.

He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention. 

Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines. 

He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.

Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?

All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.

Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.

“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?” 

You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?

You do. Against any better judgement, you do. 

He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke. 

Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--

The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.

Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.

You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough. 

His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.

“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”

His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.

He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.

You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.

Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.

Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.

His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck. 

He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.

The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.

Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.

You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil. 

He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago. 

To please Issei.

He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color. 

Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.

He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.

The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs. 

Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.

The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.

The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.

* * *

You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into. 

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head--

“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do. 

Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back. 

“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap.  Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome. 

What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges. 

When was the last time you felt this alive? 

He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map. 

And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.

You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.

“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?” 

Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.

You don’t.

Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls. 

“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.

“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”

Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.

Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.

His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood. 

You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.

“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.” 

A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses. 

Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.

Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.

You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?” 

Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.

Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.

“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.

You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.

He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#issei matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #the smut pile collab #the smut pile western collab #the lawbreakers: multiverse #tw: drugs #tw: voyeurism #sin.drugs #sin.voyeurism

[captainimprobable]

Part 3 of that thing I’ve been posting.  This is a first draft, once it’s edited I’ll put it on Ao3.  There will be five parts! Part1  Part 2  ~~

Amity has a plan.

She knows her girlfriend likes meaningful gestures, especially when it’s about something important.  So as she signs her name at the bottom of the pink paper, she wills herself not to be nervous.  She’s doing everything right, she knows, and besides, it’s Luz.  Luz is understanding and generous.  She’ll love this. 

(Amity hopes.)

Walking to school the next day is torture, and she’s brought back to a similar morning a few months ago, when she was clutching paper from the same notebook she used today.  She didn’t go through with it then, but everything is different now.  Luz will say yes.

So why can’t she stop shaking?

She walks into the building and immediately spots Luz.  Her stomach flips itself over, as usual, and she nervously walks over to her girlfriend.   

“Amity! I missed you!”  Luz sees her and runs over, catching her up in a hug.  Amity tries not to swoon.  

“Luz, I saw you yesterday,” Amity says, smiling as she’s picked up and swayed a little.  

Luz pouts as she puts Amity down.  “Yeah, but that was a long time ago,” she mumbles.  She looks down at the ground, and her eyebrows scrunch together.

“Oh wait,” she says, stooping down and picking something up.  “You dropped this.”

It’s the pink paper.  Amity wants to die.  “WAIT,” she says loudly, startling a couple of other kids down the hall, “DON’T LOOK AT THAT.”

She grabs the paper and then stops.  Wait.  Things are different now. 

“Actually,” she says, with as much composure as she can muster after an outburst like that, “this is for you.”

She holds out the pink paper. And Luz. Takes it.

If Luz recognizes the type of paper the note is written on, she doesn’t mention it.  Amity is shaking as Luz opens the note, inspecting every single change in Luz’s face, anticipating a possible rejection. 

But instead, Luz’s face morphs into a huge smile, and she turns the paper over so Amity can see the words she’s written.

“Luz, will you go on a date with me?”  

 There’s color high in Luz’s cheeks as she asks “Really?”

“Of course really,” Amity scoffs, her entire body relaxing at Luz’s reaction. 

“Ohmygosh of course I will!!!!!  Where are we going? What are we doing? Can we-”

Amity holds up a hand to stop Luz’s train of thought.  “I have it all planned out,” she says proudly.  “All you have to do is show up.”

 Luz smiles, the crinkles at the corners of her eyes getting deeper as she does.  “Of course you do,” she says.  “I’ll be there!”

~

Amity had thought she was nervous yesterday, but that’s nothing compared to today.

 Edric and Emira are trying to help calm her down, but they’re somehow making it worse.  “I’m sure she’s gonna have a great time,” Ed says sincerely, nodding to himself.  “Unless….she doesn’t,” he adds.  

 Emira hits her twin on the arm.  “Ed, not helping,” she scolds, and puts her hands on Amity’s shoulders.  “First dates are scary, but this is Luz.  You could take her to the dump and she’d thank you.”

 “I’m terrified,” Amity confesses to her sister.  

 “Don’t be!”

 “Thanks, Em, suddenly I’m totally fine.”

 “Glad I could help,” Emira winks.  “Now go get your girl.”

~

It’s time for her date with Luz.  Well, actually, it’s an hour before her date with Luz, but she’s leaving now anyway because she likes to be punctual.  

 As it turns out, she doesn’t have a lot of time to be nervous, because when she opens the door to leave Blight Manor, Luz is standing there with flowers.

 “Hi,” Luz says excitedly, laughing a little at the look on Amity’s face.  “These are for you.  I got you purple ones because they match your hair!”

 “You’re early,” is all Amity manages to say.  She takes the flowers from Luz and their fingers touch.  Normally, this wouldn’t be such a big deal anymore, but knowing they’re about to go on an actual date makes everything feel a little different.  Amity tries not to jump.

 “Yeah,” Luz says, hands behind her back.  “But I know you, and I knew you’d be early, so here I am!”

 Suddenly Amity feels like crying.  Being known isn’t something she ever thought she would get to experience.  Being known this well was never even a thought.  She is so, so lucky.

 She blinks the tears away and manages to direct a smile at her girlfriend.  “Thanks,” she says.  “I love them.”

 Luz beams.  Amity still marvels over the way Luz’s expressions are so open and extreme.  She’s smiling with her entire body, somehow, exuding so much happiness just because Amity liked the flowers.  

 “So you have an idea?” Luz asks.  

 “Oh, yeah!” Amity says.  “I have the perfect plan.”

~

Amity watches Luz’s face stealthily out of the corner of her eye the entire way through Bonesborough.  They’re holding hands, and it feels like magic, but Amity is so nervous that Luz won’t enjoy what she’s planned that she can barely appreciate it.  Luz looks unbothered, though, swinging their hands between them happily as she chatters on about something King did earlier in the day.  Normally, Amity would be paying rapt attention, but today she’s a little too wound up.

 “Okay, here we are” Amity says nervously, watching  Luz’s face carefully for any sign of rejection.

 Luz looks up and gasps.  “A bookstore?????? I didn’t even know there was a bookstore here!”

 “Yeah,” Amity says shyly.  “I just thought...well, the first thing we really bonded over was Azura, so I figured maybe we could wander and…” She trails off.

 Luz is jumping up and down on the balls of her feet.  “Yes! I’ve always wanted to go on a bookstore date! I wonder what kind of weirdness a Boiling Isles bookstore has! Unless it’s just, like, a normal bookstore.  Which would be disappointing but still cool!”  She grins and pulls on Amity’s hand.  “Cmon, let’s go!”

~

It’s going well, she thinks.  Luz looks like she’s having fun as she pulls book after book off the shelf, commenting on them each before putting them back.

 “I’ve been wondering about the Azura books,” Luz says at one point.  “Like, how come we get them in the human realm and the Boiling Isles? How is that possible?”  Luz scratches her head.  “Maybe the author is from here and somehow managed to get their books to my realm? Maybe they’ve got a really good publicist? Or maybe they’re human and their books accidentally made it here somehow, like, maybe Eda brought one back one day and someone bought it and-”  Luz stops.  “Oh my gosh, Amity, do you think Eda is responsible for the circulation of the Azura books on the Boiling Isles???”

 Amity considers that.  

 “You know, I haven’t really met any other people who like these books,” she says.  “I always wondered why they weren’t more popular.”  Her eyes widen, realization dawning.  “What if I’m the only one? What if Eda sold them to the bookstore and I bought them and-”

 “Woah,” Luz says.  “That is some crazy coincidence.”

 “Well,” Amity says bravely.  “Guess it just means we were always meant to be.”

 She gets a bright red Luz as a reward for her nerve, and she smirks.  It’s fun to make Luz nervous.  Knowing she has that effect on her makes her so happy.  

 Luz doesn’t say anything, just reaches out a hand for Amity’s.  Amity gets it.  Sometimes holding Luz’s hand is the only thing that makes sense.

 “Oh no way,” comes a voice from behind them.  Amity’s heart sinks.  Oh no, not now, why now, why here, why-

 They turn around and Boscha comes into view, scrutinizing their linked hands.  “You’re actually dating the human.  Wow.  I thought that was a rumor, like, one so ridiculous it couldn’t even be true.”  She smirks.  “And yet here you are.”

 Amity can feel Luz stiffen next to her, and she’s suddenly filled with rage.  Luz escaped her world to avoid being made fun of, she shouldn’t have to deal with that here, too.

 Amity raises her chin and looks Boscha in the eye.  “Aw, what’s wrong, Boscha, jealous that nobody wants to hang out with you?”  She looks around pointedly.  “Looks like you’re alone, huh?  Has everyone finally realized what a monster you are?”

 Boscha’s face turns a shade of pink darker than her hair.  “I’m not alone,” she spits.  “I came here by myself on purpose.  It’s exhausting, having followers all the time.”

 “Sure,” Amity says, turning to leave.  “Come on Luz, let’s-”

 “Can’t believe she went and got a girlfriend from another species,” Amity hears Boscha mutter under her breath.  And then, a little louder, clearly intending to be heard- “Guess shopping at the bottom of the barrel is easier than finding someone normal.”

 Amity stops.  She’s gripping Luz’s hand so hard it’s probably starting to hurt a little, but she can’t help it.  Luz seems to sense the storm coming, and she scrambles to stop it.  “Amity, it’s okay, let’s just go-”

 But Amity is done.  Done with Boscha and her stupid games, done with everyone making fun of Luz for things she can’t control, done with her girlfriend being treated lesser than because she wasn’t born a witch.

 She releases Luz’s hand, whirls around, and says, quiet as the dead, “Say that again.”

 Boscha seems to realize she went a little too far this time, but she’s not one to back down.  “What are you gonna do, Amity? Hex me? You don’t have the-”

 Before she can finish her sentence, Amity’s fingers are twirling in circles and Boscha is on the ground, angry hives crawling up and down her body.

 A security guard comes over, looking bored.  He gives Boscha a glance, unimpressed.  “Miss,” he says to Amity.  “I’m gonna have to ask you to go.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” Amity says.  “We were just leaving.”

~

Amity thinks her hands might be clenched permanently, now.  The anger (coiling, rampant, hot to the touch) she’s feeling isn’t new, but it’s somehow louder now, a line of static in her ears so loud that she doesn’t hear Luz calling her name until the third time.

 “Amity!”

Amity blinks herself out of her stupor and remembers, suddenly: she’s supposed to be on a date.  A date with her cute girlfriend.  A date that she messed up by getting them kicked out of a store.

 She knew she’d mess this up somehow.

 “Amity, are you okay?”

 Luz is looking at her with concern in her eyes, and Amity doesn’t deserve it.  She doesn’t deserve any of this.  She’s ruined everything.

 “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, not looking Luz in the eye.  She’d understand if Luz dumped her over this.

 “For what?” Luz asks sincerely, and Amity looks up in confusion.  “Um, for ruining our date?”

 Luz raises her eyebrows.  “How exactly did you ruin it?”

 “I hexed Bosca, I got us kicked out of the bookstore, I-”

 “What I’m hearing,” Luz says, taking Amity’s hand again, “Is that you got angry on my behalf and defended me from a bully”

 “But I got us kicked out of the store!” Amity insists.  She feels like she owes it to Luz to admit what a screw up she is, but Luz isn’t having it.

 “No, Boscha got us kicked out of the store.  Besides, it’s no big deal, we were basically done anyway.”

 This isn’t right.  She knows she should be happy that Luz isn’t blaming her, but something inside her insists that Luz needs to know, that Luz needs to understand that Amity messed up and will probably mess up again, that she had everything planned out perfectly and it went nothing like it was supposed to and Luz should probably break up with her and-

 “Break up with you?????” Luz sounds scandalized, and Amity realizes: she said everything out loud.  

 “You think I would break up with you over this?”

 “I..I don’t know,” Amity says, closing her eyes as though that will make her disappear.  “Maybe.”

 “Amity, I-I don’t like you because you’re perfect.  You’re only human- I mean, you’re a person, and people make mistakes, and that’s okay! I make mistakes all the time! Just today I missed a step and fell down the stairs.  It happens!”

 She takes Amity’s other hand and looks her in the eyes.  “You’re perfect to me.  But not because you never mess up.  Because you’re kind, and funny, and beautiful, and you do things like hex bullies because they make fun of me.  I don’t need the perfect date, Amity.  I just need you.”

 Amity is speechless.  Nobody has ever said anything like that to her.  She remembers what she told Hunter in that cave all those months ago: I grew up thinking everything was an opportunity to justify existing.  But there are people out there who won’t make you feel worthless.  You just have to let yourself meet them.

 It’s time she took her own advice.

 “Thank you,” she says quietly, smiling shyly.  “You’re the best girlfriend a girl could ask for.”

 “No, you are!” Luz says earnestly, and Amity realizes that, if she had the courage, she could kiss Luz right then and there.

 She doesn’t, of course, but now that it’s in her head, she’s not going to forget about it anytime soon.

#the owl house #lumity #firsts and seconds #writins

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Night Meeting Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 夜会之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Important references are made to Victor’s Return Home Date, which has not been released in EN. Do read that first before proceeding :>

[ This date was released in CN on 26 October 2020 ]

The red light makes its countdown from 99 seconds. Victor pulls on the handbrake, turning to look at me. 

Victor: What are you looking at - the rules of the competition?

MC: Nope. I’m checking to see who’s participating in the competition, and whether there’s anyone I recognise.

Half a year ago, Victor sent out invitations to small-and-medium enterprises - LFG’s investees - inviting them to participate in a simulation competition in Loveland City.

The winner of the competition will acquire a fifty million dollar investment from LFG.

A few companies politely declined, feeling that LFG was too lofty. But a few open-minded young CEOs were willing to participate.

And I am one of them.

Victor: Goldman is responsible for this competition, so you can look for him if you face any issues.

MC: Does this mean Goldman will have all the contact details of the participating CEOs?

I hold up the notebook laptop in my hands and show it to him, deliberately giving him a sincere smile. 

MC: Do these business elites have good editing skills, or are they truly this handsome?

A sudden drizzle descends from the gloomy sky.

Victor taps on the steering wheel indifferently, his ring finger clicking the windshield wiper.

Victor: There isn’t a discrepancy between the actual people and the photographs.

MC: So they truly... have their merits.

Probably because my awe sounded too genuine, Victor’s eyelid twitches slightly.

Victor: You could look for them yourself to get their contact details. The reason why LFG is holding this competition is to allow for interaction among elite businessmen from different industries, and to expand their network.

MC: ...yes yes yes. A few days after interacting with them, we’ll be able to clarify what they are good at, what sort of personalities they have, and whether there’s a possibility of collaboration in the future. To a start-up company, financing channels that can provide these resources are even more important than the funds themselves. Victor... I know all this.

Victor: But?

MC: But according to the rules of the competition, I have to be locked in the hotel for a full seven days.

Victor turns a deaf ear to me. He pushes the handbrake, stepping on the accelerator.

In a soft voice, I continue sending out hints. 

MC: Don’t you have anything else to warn me about? For example, to take care of my safety?

Victor turns the steering wheel to the right, casting his line of sight to the rearview mirror.

Victor: You’re very safe in LFG’s hotel. There’s nothing to be cautious about.

With this, the logo of LFG’s hotel comes into view. 

I reach out to unbuckle my seatbelt, but Victor stops me.

Victor: I’m driving to the underground carpark.

MC: The rain isn’t that bad. Alighting me at the entrance will do.

Victor doesn’t respond. He has already passed the gate, and has entered the carpark.

After coursing through the familiar carpark, the car pulls up in front of the elevator. 

Since it’s still early, only a sparse number of cars are in the carpark. The surroundings are quiet, and there’s not a single person around. 

...I first glance at him out of the corner of my eyes.

MC: I’m off.

Victor: Mm.

Then, I unbuckle my seatbelt. 

MC: Are you going back to LFG now?

Victor: Mm.

After a pause, I take my handbag.

MC: I’m... leaving now?

Victor lowers his eyes slightly, releasing a very soft chuckle.

He’s doing this on purpose! I immediately push the car door open--

A hand suddenly lands on the right side of my forehead. I subconsciously turn my face to the left. He leans forward, pressing his lips to my hair.

Victor: Be safe.

His low voice encapsulates a mildly teasing smile and breath. It’s as though he’s giving me a tiny, tangled compliment. Even his lowered voice is mixed with cheerful satisfaction.

I nuzzle my head into his palm. His sleeve and wristwatch slide downwards, revealing the edge of his palm and his long, slender fingers.

MC: You too. Drive safely.

After disembarking from the car, I turn around again and wave at him.

MC: I’ll strive to win the competition!

-

Goldman: Firstly, I’m grateful to all the participants for coming here despite your busy schedules.

Goldman: I trust that everyone has taken a cursory look through the rules of the competition before coming here. 

Goldman: In this competition, you have to study an LFG acquisition case, and produce an analysis report from any perspective. 

Goldman: The employees will be distributing the case study materials to the participants. According to the rules, the submission date for the report is the final day of the competition. 

Goldman: In the meantime, everyone can use the leisure time in the evening to work on this task.

Without a lively atmosphere that other competitions have, Goldman informs everyone about the important topic of this competition the moment everyone takes their seats.

The meeting room is on the 32nd floor. The view outside the window features Loveland City’s financial centres and tall skyscrapers, the glass windows of every building refracting rational, cold light. 

Enveloped by the overcast sky and light drizzle, the entire business district looks extremely serene. 

Very soon, hardcopy versions of the case study materials, as well as a USB drive containing the files, are in my hands. The sound of paper can be heard as the people around me start reading.

After a while, the participants exchange glances, and start discussing softly.

??: Business plans, meeting minutes, financial statements, employee resumes... LFG is letting us look at every brick of SE. 

??: It was worth making the trip here - this is all insider information! It’s such a waste that there aren’t contact numbers on the employee resumes, so I can’t tell who is who. 

??: I like this topic. It’s in line with Victor’s style. 

Out of all LFG investments, SE - a network video platform - was its worst.

When the information was first announced, every financial platform used phrases like “LFG’s Battle of Waterloo” or “Victor’s wrong decision” to attract attention. 

Even though many people have already forgotten about this matter with the passage of time, Victor, without doubt, still remembers it.

-

In the evening, I read through the materials, which span over three hundred pages, seriously. Every day and night that Victor revisited SE’s business model flashes past my eyes. 

Victor must have found a lead here, and clearly identified every minor detail resulting in SE’s collapse. 

Now that I’m the one in his shoes, can I do it?

Feeling drowsy, I clip up my fringe and lean against the chair, staring at the ceiling.

My phone suddenly rings. It’s a certain someone’s special ringtone, and I’m so surprised that I jolt awake.

Victor: How was today?

MC: It was very enriching. I made so many new friends, and participated in the most difficult ERP Sand Table Simulation in my entire life. I even had a seafood buffet in LFG’s hotel, which is deserving of its reputation. What about you? Are you still in the office?

[Trivia] An ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning System) Sand Table Simulation (沙盘模拟 - “sha pan mo ni”) is a relatively new teaching mode of accounting in China, which cultivates one’s ability of business operation, coordination and interpersonal communication. It basically simulates the operation of an enterprise, which includes marketing, production, logistics, financial centres, etc.

Victor: Mm.

MC: Are you standing at the window looking at the scenery?

Victor: Mm, I just realised that the rain has stopped.

I draw back the curtains, looking at the night view beneath my feet. It’s already very late, but the lights from office buildings illuminate the night distinctly. 

They even reveal the sharp and lonely colours of the cloudy night.

This is one representation of “business”.

Before the collapse of the magnificent SE, its building was often lit up - a starlight converging with the city’s night scene.

The same goes for LFG’s building.

MC: Once you’re done, head home early to rest.

Victor: Are you preparing to sleep?

Looking at the tiny mountain of materials on the table, I let out an anguished wail.

MC: CEO Victor, don’t you know how demanding the rules you set for the competition are? How could I be sleeping at this time!

At the other end of the line, Victor cannot help but laugh.

Victor: In that case, I’ll wish you the winning prize?

MC: Sure, I accept your blessings!

-

This is the fourth cup of coffee I’m having today.

Time is tight, so I’m unable to comb through every single one of SE’s business proposals and then formulate them into words. I need to go straight into the heart of the matter, and hit the nail on the head!

Even so, I stare at the file on my laptop which currently spans over thirty thousand words. There’s a sense of unease in my heart.

Did I include too much nonsense? 

It’s already the evening of the fifth day, and I’ll have to submit the report in 37 hours...

Restless and anxious, I down the remaining half of my americano, then draw a bunch of squiggles on my draft.

The doorbell suddenly rings. 

A possibility flashes in my mind. I run over frantically, looking through the peephole at the person standing outside.

MC: W-wait for a moment. Victor, wait for a while!

With fiery speed, I rush to the dressing table to tidy myself up, then rush back to open the door.

Victor: Did I come at the wrong time?

MC: No you didn’t...

Before I finish speaking, Victor reaches out to touch the pimple patch on my forehead.

Victor: What’s this?

MC: Worry, internal heat, loss of sleep, supper... The main reason could be the fried chicken I had for supper the day before yesterday.

Victor: You don’t know how to eat something better even with the competition funds from the company.

Without waiting for him to continue, I press him down onto the sofa in the living room.

MC: Let’s continue our chat later. Hold on, I’ll tidy up some things!

It becomes evident that I have some issues estimating how long “a moment” is.

By the time I finish combing through my outline and prepare to do a further refinement, more than an hour has passed. Victor remains seated on the sofa, waiting for me. 

I blink at him guiltily.

Victor: Are you done?

MC: Not yet, but I can take a break~

I walk over, kneeling on the empty space on the sofa, leaning my entire body onto him.

Victor shifts closer, placing a hand on my waist in a habitual manner.

Victor: How’s the competition?

With a frown, I shake my head.

MC: As of now, I’m ranked in 13th place. Your fifty million dollar investment wouldn’t reach me.

Victor glances at the outline and the half-completed draft in my hand.

Victor: You still want to compete when you have no prospects?

MC: Of course. I’ve already worked on this for so long, so I should at least produce something.

I tilt my head on Victor’s shoulder, taking another look at the report I've spent days writing. The more I look at it, the more dissatisfied I am. So, I just heave several deep sighs.

MC: But some of the competitors are really formidable. I can tell that they’re treating this competition as a game - they don’t put much heart into it, and they aren’t very serious about it. Even so, they win very easily, and take the lead very easily.

I say excitedly, straightening up and facing Victor. 

MC: For example, the CEO from Yao Yue, the media company, has won me over. During the ERP Sand Table Simulation on the first day, he actually went to other groups to poach members halfway through. And poaching other people was just the first step. Once their funding chain was in operation, they went around purchasing other production lines, and continuously expanded their scope.

Victor smiles faintly, his expression reflecting a tacit understanding.

Victor: You aren’t bad either. Goldman told me that among all the competitors, you were the first one who thought of capitalising on rent to construct the production line. 

MC: You said it yourself - whatever isn’t prohibited in the rules is permissible.

Furthermore, Victor had prepared for numerous eventualities during the game, and arranged for Goldman to react accordingly. Nobody’s creativity can disrupt the process of the game. 

Thinking about this, I once again feel disheartened, plopping myself back atop Victor’s chest, looking at the report that I have no idea how to amend.

MC: As compared to them, I’m still far behind... It’s so difficult to surpass you.

Victor suddenly lapses into silence, his hand on my back.

-

The air-con in the middle blows out rustling wind. It’s very soft, but I hear it very clearly because of how quiet the room is. 

Accompanying the regulated white noise is the comfortable warmth from Victor’s arms. Four cups of coffee doesn’t seem to be of much use.

Drowsily, I stare at a sentence on the report, warning myself repeatedly: I can’t sleep yet.

Perhaps noticing that I haven’t spoken for a long time, and that I’m so tired that my eyes have drifted shut, Victor gently takes the file away from my hand.

MC: ...I’m not sleeping.

Hearing my indistinct mumble, he lets out a resigned chuckle. 

Victor: Are you going to continue amending it?

So tired that I can no longer open my eyes, I give him a nod, rubbing the side of my face on his chest.

The scent of a fresh bath entwines with cologne, twirling around the tip of my nose. It’s such a pleasant scent that it makes one feel as though breathing is a kind of luxury.

Likely not knowing how to deal with me, Victor holds onto the file and doesn’t move.

It’s only until I hug his waist contentedly like a cat which has had its fill of being coquettish, that he flips through the file, probably wanting to have a quick look at what I’ve written.

After a while, he touches the ends of my hair.

Victor: The overall reasoning has no issues. But regarding the marketing strategy...

I reach out to cover his mouth. Because I’m not looking, my fingers fumble on his face for a moment.

MC: This is a competition, so you can't help. And this is my competition, so I can do it independently... Also, you specially came over at night just to comment on my report?

Victor: Why else do you think I’d be here?

I open my eyes lazily and look at his chin. With a hum, I bury my face into the crook of his neck, coquettishly blowing into his ear.

MC: Teacher Victor...

MC: I’m calling you ‘Teacher’ not because I want to talk about business methods and progress in work.

Victor doesn’t say anything. He places the file on the coffee table. After a pause, he speaks softly.

Victor: You never mentioned that your goal was to surpass me. 

MC: I have, but you didn’t take me seriously...

I rise from his chest, giving him a firm look.

MC: I’m not that silly to think that just because I’ve won a few media-related prizes and produced a few good programs, I’m already on the same level as you. You’ve been taking care of me in a greenhouse, keeping out the wind and rain for me. All I can do is to make a few flowers bloom under your meticulous care.

The lenses of his thin spectacles reflect the warm and yellow ceiling lights. Behind the lenses, there are deep emotions in Victor’s eyes.

Victor: When did you have such a thought?

My line of sight falls onto the file on the coffee table. On the first page of the report, the words “SE” have been circled with a pencil.

MC: When SE got into trouble, you flew to France and were so busy that you didn’t sleep for days...

MC: And when you were back in the country, you spent half the year arranging for the sale of the property and didn’t tell me a single word about it. That’s when it started.

This has been a knot residing in my heart, and I've never brought it up to him.

I really wanted to help even a little, but I didn’t manage to do anything.

Unable to be needed by him, unable to become a person he can face difficulties with... A voice in my heart has always been reminding me of such a reality. And I'm not going to simply resign myself to it.

Victor: What happened with SE is just an example. We’re from different businesses and different fields. There’s no need to compare yourself with me. Also, I’m older than you. When you’ve reached my age, you might attain the achievements I have today.

Victor lifts his head to look at me, his eyes filled with his usual resoluteness.

Although I only said one thing, he seems to have understood everything.

Victor: You’ve never been a flower I’ve been raising in a greenhouse. At any point in time, I do need you very much. When SE was in trouble and the PR Department couldn’t communicate with the media, they talked to you about it. It’s not as if you weren’t of any help.

You tilt your head to look at him. Furrowing your brows, you bite your lip.

MC: Could we not talk about such general principles? I can understand them, but the things I can do are always limited... Which is why I’ll not give up on this goal.

Victor sits upright, closing the distance between us. His grip on my back tightens slightly, and his voice is even lower than before.

Victor: Who was the one who said she didn’t want to talk about business methods and progress in work? 

Victor: Is the phrase “I need you” also considered a general principle?

I lower my head and chuckle, pushing at his chest lightly with my fingertips. He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he shifts forward even more.

Victor: What do you think I specially came over so late at night to do?

His voice carries with it his exhaled breath, reminiscent of a silk thread on my collarbone, causing a ticklish sensation to surface.

I have no choice but to lift myself up, cupping his cheeks in my hands.

MC: Teacher Victor, you look very good in spectacles.

[Note] AND THEN EVERYTHING FADES TO BLACK AND YOU KNOW THINGS ARE GETTING SPICY

Victor: Still amending your report?

MC: I will. I’ll amend it after you leave.

Victor: In that case, when do you want me to leave?

MC: ...

MC: I still have an entire day tomorrow.

Victor: Are you sure?

MC: ...don’t tempt me!

Victor: I’m seeking your opinion. The decision rests with you.

-

🌹 MOMENTS 🌹

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in for seven days,

MC: Fried chicken! Five star recommendation! The breaded chicken thigh paired with plum sauce was so delicious that I was on the verge of tears!

Victor: I’ll give you an opportunity. Bring your proposal over and exchange it for the secret recipe for the dipping sauce.

-

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in it for seven days,

MC: Not just the dishes - the wine was also very good!

Victor: When did you secretly drink wine?

-

Victor: Looks like the dishes in LFG’s hotel are passable. A certain someone actually put on weight after being locked in it for seven days,

MC: Every meal was a buffet, so it’s difficult not to gain weight...

Victor: A greedy cat always has many excuses.

-

Phone call: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc victor

[fenheart87]

Tall Cappuccino

Felt good to finish something and it started the ball rolling on other WIPs that I've been neglecting. Enjoy this humorous one shot based off my mom and her best friend creating a "coffee code" to talk to about cute guys and it backfiring. Did not work as well as it does for these two though.

“Girl, you need to get over Greg-” Alya started, opening the door to the coffee shop and holding it for Marinette and a few other customers.

“His name was Fillippe.”

“Or whatever his name was and get back out there! You are so sweet and beautiful and your parents have the best pastries in Paris-”

“Are you proposing marriage to me or my family?” Marinette frowned playfully when Alya reached out to pull her ponytail.

“Hush you, my point is we need to scout for potential dates for you. We can treat it like undercover research, a much better version than those schemes from our lycee days. Oh, we can have a codename for the hot guys we see so we’re not obvious about it. So where do we want to start looking?” The reporter stepped in line, glancing at the menu with half hearted interest.

“My dreams?” Marinette scooted forward so a barista could pass through, the balance of that many drinks was an amazing feat.

“I’m just saying you need to open your horizons and take a chance. You could get any guy’s number you so much as smile at and while I’m glad you don’t use your powers for evil, you need to use them to snag a boyfriend.” “All lies, do you think the caramel mocha will have caramel or just be a poor imitation?” Marinette pondered aloud, scanning the drink specials but not impressed by anything.

“You’re so coffee obsessed… Hold on a minute, what if we made a code using coffee to scope out some guys? Then maybe you obsession for coffee will lead you to true love instead of just a heart attack!” Alya grinned at her suggestion, not in the slightest put off by the dark glare coming from the shorter woman.

“Fine, since you’re so adamant about it, you buy me coffee every time we meet up to find my ‘perfect cup of coffee’ and you have a deal.”

“See, you’re already getting into it!”

The agreement took a couple weeks before they could actually start looking as both women had jobs that kept them busy and spare time didn’t match up often. A couple weeks later saw Marinette walking into the coffee shop named The Brew and savoring the rich smells of freshly crushed coffee beans. Alya had texted her that she made it first and had ordered a large cup of the newest creation for her and to not be late if she didn’t want cold coffee. Spotting her friend’s red hair, Marinette made her way over to the table and dropped herself into her chair.

“You are a zombie before coffee, it’s kind of creepy.” Her best friend pushed forward the cappuccino topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. “Drink up, I need your brain working to remember our code or we’ll never get anywhere.”

“I told you not to over plan it and you did anyways didn’t you?” Alya nudged the drink closer until she had to pick it up to keep it from falling in her lap. “Fine, three minutes.”

“I know girl, now you enjoy that and I’m going to get you a muffin and I want a scone.”

Marinette eyed the drink in suspicion but took a sip anyway, it was mocha with chocolate chips. Sighing in relief that the sprinkles were harmless decoration, until she would get to the part where she risked inhaling them with her coffee, the designer took a few more drinks. Slowly she could feel the warm feeling spread, her mind finally kicking in gear and half of it planning out her work for the day and the other half worrying about what insanity her best friend cooked up.

“Okay, so you like cappuccinos the best and you like chocolate chip muffins. Cappuccino is like an 8-10 and muffin is 5-8, hot chocolate can be a 3-5 and water is anything less. That’s how we can judge the drinks and get a better idea on what your perfect drink is.”

“You are terrible but okay, free coffee is hard to say no to.”

The first day was a total bust, no Alya I’m sure I’m not interested in girls, and they tried two coffee shops before they had to get back to their lives. Meeting up whenever they could was nice because it brought them closer instead of being too busy to talk longer than a few short calls or messages here and there. Although Alya enjoyed sending pictures and asking for a coffee rating of random guys, to which Marinette would reply with the matching emoji and sometimes even send some artfully taken pictures back.

A random Tuesday found them back at The Brew and for once Marinette beat Alya to the coffee shop. Deciding as it was midday and not early morning, she could wait for her coffee supplier to get there before ordering, Marinette found a table. Pulling out her phone to check for any updates from her best friend, and seeing none, she pulled out her current draft sketches and set to fixing or modifying the parts that didn’t blend with the look she was going for. Every so often the bell would ding and draw her attention, even going so far as to take a picture and send it with an emoji to Alya who was still stuck at work.

“Okay, this isn’t working but why?” The designer mumbled to herself, attention broken easily as she needed a distraction and turned her gaze to the door. A mistake because the man that walked in was stunning in the subtle smokey way, ripped jeans and well loved hoodie complete with steel toed boots. After her designer side was satisfied she skipped to his face and lost her breath. Blue, blue eyes brought out by the blue tipped hair and easy smile as he waved to the baristas in greeting. Quickly she opened her phone and texted Alya a hastily typed CAPPUCCINO. In perfect but dramatic timing her best friend loved so much, Alya walked in right as she sent that text.

“Hey girl, sorry to keep you waiting. There was an issue with the main story and printing and it was a nightmare! You didn’t have to wait to get a coffee, I would’ve paid you back.” She took off her jacket and hung it on the back of the chair along with her reporter messenger bag. “Oh well, I’m here now so what do you want today?”

“That tall cappuccino.”

“You and your obsession girl I swear. Should I surprise you with the flavor?”

“Nope, I want that tall blueberry cappuccino.” Marinette tried to hint towards the cute guy who was giving his order at the counter.

“Tall blueberry cappuccio?” Alya studied her for a moment, following her eyes to the blue haired stranger. “Oh, oh, got it! Good taste girl, you sure want the blueberry cappuccino? Different from your usual tastes.”

“Were you not the one who said I need to broaden my horizons and try new things with an open mind?”

“True, well then I’m hungry so I’ll be back.” Alya joined the line and left Marinette waiting anxiously. To distract herself, she focused on her sketch that was being stubborn. A ding from her phone had her admitting defeat and putting away her sketches in the folder she carried. Turning on her phone, the designer saw a picture message from Alya titled hot cappuccino. Clicking on it, the picture loaded to show a very fine rear encased in well loved black denim which happened to be the exact same pants her tall cappuccino happened to be wearing. She was going to kill her best friend.

"They don't have any muffins but you can share my scone if you want." Alya returned to her seat, offering the scone to Marinette who declined.

“Excuse me, I overheard you mention that you were interested in the tall cappuccino with blueberry so I thought I would bring you one.” Said tall blueberry cappuccino had stopped by Marinette’s side of the table and waited with a smile, with drink in hand. Alya pursed her lips in amusement, hiding her laughter by taking a sip of coffee. The designer’s desperate look of ‘oh god why me, help!’ was missed by the stranger as his name was called for the rest of his order.

“One scone and croissant roll for Luka, who had the order for the blue caps!”

“Ah, that’s me,” He smiled at the dazed woman, setting the drink down. “I hope you enjoy the drink. It’s a favorite of mine and Joel makes it the best if you want to order it again. Have a good day ladies.”

“Alya!”

“Mm, very nice cappuccino.”

“Alya, no! You just can’t leave me like that!”

“Babe,” Alya looked around and lifted her feet to look under them, “where exactly did I go?”

“You know what I mean!” Marinette groaned and hid her face behind her hands. “I totally had no response and I was not expecting that at all. He must think I’m lame.”

“There’s always the next cappuccino or you can always reorder the blueberry.” The reporter relished in the drawn out groan from her best friend, finishing off her scone.

The pair ran into Mr. Blueberry Cappuccino a few more times over their next several outings to scope out possible dates or let Marinette vent about her failed ones. The Brew was becoming a second home and the employees were starting to remember the woman and their orders. Today they even had their favorites prepared only to find out it all had been paid for.

"What?"

"Already paid for honey, someone must think you're cute." Joel winked in a flirty way, making Marinette laugh as his boyfriend smacked his shoulder on the way by.

"Uh-huh, what makes you say that exactly?"

"Well honey, not just any man buys a pretty lady a drink. And not just any man continues to do so when his lady of interest is missing a very big clue." Joel smiled and waved to an elderly couple as they left, turning to grab some muffins for the table of six for the kids. "He's not being very subtle and I feel like you don't know when someone is into you versus just likes what he sees. So, pay attention to your drink this time and please make or break his heart."

"Whatever you say Joel, whatever you say." The designer finally took her drink back to the table where Alya was already working.

"Sorry girl, I have to edit these and figure out the order by tomorrow. Any good drinks lately?"

"Bunch of water, glad to finally get a taste of my cappuccino again. Can you believe they won't let us have anything but water? Like I get it around the fabric and materials but not even in the break room." Marinette ranted waving her hands slightly until she knocked over her cup. "Oh! Geez I am such a klutz."

"Girl, when are you going to find a good luck charm to counter all that bad luck?"

"You know that's not it!" She hurried to clean up her mess, a barista dropped a rag on the table as they passed by with a tray full of muffins. Carefully she cleaned up her minor spill and waited off her cup only to notice there was a blue smudge on the outside. Taking a closer look, it seems like smeared numbers. A ten digit number. "I think it's good luck disguised as bad luck because I need to be more creative and get out of my own head. I'll be right back!"

"What? Marinette, what the heck?" The reporter watched in concern as her best friend went up to the counter and waved Joel down to ask him a question. Said barista laughed loudly and patted a disappointed Marinette on the head and gave her a refill.

"Someone has been trying to get my attention but since you always buy my drink per our agreement, he can't pay for it so he asks Joel to leave his number on the cup. Which I've been throwing away without noticing. And he won't tell me who it is!"

"Oh? Mysterious admirer vying for your attention using the thing you love the most in this world? Well do go on." The tanner of the duo teased, smiling at the half hearted smack to her arm.

"This just means I need to come here as much as I can and catch him. Or make Joel tell me."

"Marinette?" The new voice caused her to turn around to see Juleka whom she was partnering with for her latest project.

"Hey Juleka, did everything fit okay?"

"Yeah, just like always. I thought your coffee addiction was only an early morning thing?"

"Oh no, this girl could drink twice her weight in coffee and still accept another cup." Alya butted in, laughing as Marinette turned a bright shade of red.

"Why don't you go get us refills, you're not working on your project anyway."

"Fine." The reporter sighed playfully before heading to the counter.

"Sorry, best friends are always crazy."

"No worries… So what's your favorite drink so far?"

"Blueberry cappuccino, haven't really given it a fair try though since I only got a couple loo- sips before I had to leave."

"Uh-huh, a tall blueberry cappuccino huh?" Juleka glanced towards the counter where her brother was ordering, his stupid hat covering his signature hair and shot a quick text to change their order. "Ever going to try again?"

"Maybe? I seem to have attached an admirer, Joel has been writing his number on my coffee cups."

"Yeah he likes to play cupid. Kind of like how he helped me find my strawberry frappe." The dawning look of surprise turned to embarrassment very quickly. "Also, if he doesn't man up and give you his number directly, ask me and I'll straighten him out."

"Okay?" Marinette squeaked out but she was very confused as the up and coming model sashayed to the counter. A tall man moved to let her reach for a couple cups and left him with a stern glare.

"So any idea on how you're going to grill Joel as to who your mystery guy is?" Alya inquired, resting her hip against the table.

"I have no idea. I guess il just wait until my tall blueberry cappuccino shows up again." With a sigh, Marinette began packing up her papers only to be stopped by a cup sitting directly in the middle of her papers. A large drink, the blue swirls and aroma of their dark roast cappuccino tickled her senses.

"Hey so Joel told me I should uh man up so to speak and introduce myself." The designer's gaze followed the cup to the hand holding the cup, up an arm and right into the mystery guy's eyes. Who happened to be her tall cappuccino. "I uh must confess I knew about the whole code thing from the first day and I tried to have Joel help me out by putting my number on your cups but since I never got a text or call, I figured either you weren't interested or hadn't realized."

"Do you know how small he writes? It's impossible to read tiny alien chicken scratch."

"Yeah he did that on purpose. Sorry about that but I'd still like to get to know you, if you're still interested in a certain tall blueberry cappuccino?"

"Cappuccino is my favorite."

"Well Luka is your top favorite then."

"Good, Marinette is yours."

#lukanette endgame #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #meet cute #coffeshop

[shadowdianne]

Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]

I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.

When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.

1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)

2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*

3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.

4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.

5: Come to me

Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.

Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.

*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:

Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.

9. Do you write smut?

I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.

9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.

Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.

10. Ever had a fic translated?

I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P

13. All-time favourite ship?

*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.

14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)

15. Writing strengths?

Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.

16. Writing weaknesses?

Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.

18. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P

19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?

Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd

Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P

#taggie thingie #this was a monster

[5lazarus]

Love and Red Ink

Varric tries his hand at a more literary Bildungsroman about his youth as a Kirkwall bohemian. Bianca tears it apart, editing for his own good. Sometimes love is in the margins, your almost ex-girlfriend telling you--I wasn't that pretty, when I was that young. Read on Archive of Our Own here.

Varric slips out of bed, sheets rustling, and puts his pants back on. He sneaks a quick glance at Bianca, who’s still sleeping. Her mouth is slightly agape, her hair dark with sweat. She looks old in the gray morning light, but they are old now. He’s turning forty in two months; she’ll be forty-two.

The inn she picked in Val Royeaux is adjacent to the alienage, and so accustomed to strange couplings. The clerks and the maids do not speak, and to those elves, every dwarf is interchangeable anyway. Her husband only gets angry when it’s too blatant, after all. The occasional assignation does no harm. It’s when they wander into the garden at Kirkwall parties, or spend whole Merchant Guild meetings giggling to each other, that he gets upset. Varric can’t blame him. He’d be upset too, if his wife were so obviously in love with another man.

Raggedly he drags his hand through his lank hair. He can’t think like this, let alone write. He finds a spare ribbon, borrowed from Daisy, in his coat pocket. Easier now he pulls back his hair, thinking he might have to order a bath, and perhaps Bianca can be coaxed to join him, she’s not due to meet the Comtesse ’til noon—and the words come marching orderly in their lines.

She snores gently, like a pampered house cat that still has its claws. The years have kept her svelte, her mouth as seductive as the first time he ever sank his teeth in, and Captain Donnen wipes the vestiges of plum lip-paint from his face. He leaves the mark on his collarbone; his shirt hides it, but he can feel it burning in his skin.

Varric grabs the leather-bound journal Hawke gave him for his birthday last year and throws himself onto his chair. He gropes about the desk, looking for a quill, but none the inn left have been sharpened. He’s got a new project going on, and he likes it, it’s easier to write than his detective stories, though he doesn’t think they’ll sell as well. He’s writing about love, real love for once, and he’s writing about youth. He’s writing about getting old. He’s writing about lovers who shouldn’t have been star-crossed, because the wedding was set, and he’s writing maybe about what could have happened if she showed up. He takes the quill and finds his penknife in his trouser pocket, almost ready to tack it down.

Then the words are gone, and he sees them for what they are: tawdry, tired, dull. Sighing, he gets up and opens the shutters. The morning flutters in, cracking the wheels of the wagons, the high voices of the sellers, the promise of spring. Varric turns around to look at Bianca, to see how the sunlight has transformed her, but she’s already up, half-dressed, her breasts swinging slightly as she laces herself into her boots first. He smiles. He’s never understood what she does that: put her trousers and shoes on first.

Bianca inquires, “Like the view?”

He gets behind her, rubbing himself against her as an answer, and traces his hands up her sides and onto her breasts. She laughs, leaning into him, and presses his hands onto her breasts.

“You don’t need to leave, not yet,” he says. She grinds into him as encouragement. This is why she puts her boots on first, he thinks. So they can do this.

“Babe,” Bianca says, “yes I do.” Now she pulls his arms away, gently. Varric sighs. She puts on her shirt but leaves it unbuttoned for now. She sits in the chair by the bed, but not on the bed, and grins up at him. “Besides, I don’t want to disturb you while you’re writing. You looked like you had a good idea.”

Varric waves a hand. “It’s crap. Most of the time, it’s always crap.”

Bianca shrugs. “Your readers say different.”

“Yeah, well, my readers aren’t that smart.”

“Hey, you said it, not me.” Bianca crosses her legs and begins doing up her shirt. “But at least you’re making people happy.”

Varric says, “You want to read what I’m working on now?”

“No.” It’s annoying how sexy she looks, saying that, staring up at him flatly.

Varric says, “Oh, come on, you never read my books. Why not just this once? I think you’d like this once.”

Bianca says, “I’m not your editor or your wife, Varric.” Varric flinches, and Bianca looks away. Grudgingly, she relents. “What’s it about?”

Varric offers her the notebook. He’s easy with letting people see first drafts, half the fun of writing is seeing how his friends like it. Hawke encourages his worst metaphor. Isabela, out of all people, makes him cut them back. Bianca’s never liked reading much, it’s something he’s learned to accept about her, but if it’s about them, perhaps it will be better this time.

He says, simply, “Us.”

Bianca’s eyebrows raise. She stares at the journal in his hand. “I don’t want to read that.”

Varric says, “We weren’t that dumb, when we were young. I changed the name. It’s not that autobiographical. No one would recognize it, besides you. Or Bartrand. And it’s not like he’s capable of reading anything right now.”

“Who wants to read about two rich kids deciding to listen to their parents?” Bianca says. “Who wants to read about getting old? You’re a good storyteller, Varric. Stick to your stories. You don’t need to tell truth.”

Varric grins. “Who said I didn’t exaggerate?”

“I’m certain you described my breasts as much bigger than they actually are,” Bianca says flatly. He waves the book around her, and her expression tightens. “Stop that.”

“Nah,” Varric says. “Make me.”

Her eyes narrow. She likes a challenge. She leaps from the chair, snatching it from his hand so fast he flinches. He forgets, sometimes, how much stronger she is than him. She keeps in better shape than him, she has to, being that involved in the Merchant’s Guild. The stakes are so high, when you’re trying to bribe your way back into Orzammar.

She flips the notebook open, turning to a random page, and reads aloud, “She was the flame in that dark garden, and we were all drawn to her, turned to little insects in her radiant light. It was cold that night in Kirkwall, and I remember stamping my feet to keep off the chill as I smoked, listening to the revelry in the ballroom. Then she stumbled past, brilliant in red velvet, and said, ‘Quick, hide me—I just poisoned Eldric’s lover. Oh, is that elfroot? I’ll take that too.’ Her chest heaved as she panted to catch her breath—Varric, what the fuck is this?” She’s laughing now. “You’re making me sound a lot more—edgy than I ever was.”

“You were edgy,” Varric says helplessly. “You were the first dwarven woman I met who didn’t give a damn for the rules.”

“My mom told me to poison Amara,” Bianca giggles. “And I was the one who had the elfroot.”

Stonyfaced he watches her attempt and fail to suppress her laughter. She turns to another page, throwing herself back into the chair. Varric watches impassively. He’s remembering why he stopped pressing her to read his writing. She’s always such a bitch about it.

Bianca says, “Oh, Varric. I was never that pretty, not even when I was young.”

“You’re beautiful,” Varric almost croaks.

Bianca says, “You’re sweet, but I’m not. And I’ve never tried to be. If you were going to write about me, that should’ve been it. About a girl who says she’s not going to be a noble-hunter and wins an apprenticeship to a mechanic instead. About the first surfacer paragon. Or the first surfacer who they said should be a paragon, and how I built my clan back up.”

“Which you’ve done,” Varric says, “beautifully.”

She rolls her eyes. “And what’s this? Really, Varric, your prose is purple but this is a bit much. How many times are you going to compare me to a flame? I thought you hated the heat. Is that the point? Is it a metaphor, for how I burned you?”

Varric takes the notebook from her, scowling. “Alright, alright. That’s enough, you don’t need to go on about it. I just…I just wanted to try something different, that’s all. Sorry I didn’t write when we first me the way you liked it. I always thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d laid eyes on. Brilliant. That’s what I was trying to say.”

Bianca softens, and she pushes herself up and into him. Stiffly, he lets her maneuver around him. She pats the side of his face twice, like a slap without heat—or the way you dismiss a child. “Then just say it. You don’t need to write it. You always get me wrong, that’s why we never worked.”

“We still work,” Varric says. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

Bianca says, “Stick to your crime novels, babe. That’s the sort of shit people want to leave.” Gently Varric disentangles him from her. He grabs his shirt and finishes dressing. He can hear her behind him, getting ready. He needs a bath, he needs a shave, he needs to wash his hair.

Bianca opens the door. “Don’t take it too personally. I hate romance. Sorry I was so harsh. Anyway, I have to get to work.”

Varric says, “Yeah.” He leans against the desk, away from the window. Despite the sun the room feels inexorably dim, or maybe it’s his heart. He wants a drink. He’ll get a bath instead.

“I’ll see you when I see you?” Bianca flashes a smile and lets the door shut. He closes his eyes and listens for her heavy footsteps down the hall, then onto the staircase, each step creaking as she launches herself out of the inn and into the next step of her career.

He thinks, I shouldn’t write about something that never fucking ends.

#love and red ink #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #da fanfic #varric/bianca #varric tethras #bianca davri #varric tethras/bianca davri #unhealthy relationships #cheating #missing moment

[verfound]

WIPWed: Festering Folder Edition: Legally Blonde AU

@mintaka14 asked about the Legally Blonde AU, which the Disco witnessed the birth of and was briefly mentioned in the notes for "Move Like Jagged". So. Yeah. This is the latest crack AU I've been working on. 😂

See, for my last project for those unit classes I had to take for work, I was talking about different reasons conflict can pop up in your kitchen and how to deal with them. And one of the ways to deal with conflict is by staying positive - you can't control what other people do/what happens, but you can control how you react to it. And that got "Positive" from the Legally Blonde musical in my head, which got me thinking who would be who in a LB AU, and...it all just ran away from me so hard. We have a Plunny Adoption channel in the Disco, and I dropped it there because I did not want another WIP, and the next thing I knew I was 1700 words into the Bend & Snap scene and no one else had adopted the plunny come on guys. 😂

So. Yeah. This is happening. I'm maybe a third of the way through the outline with about three scenes fully written out. 😂

The setup: Marinette is an aspiring fashion designer in her senior year at UCLA. Her life is all set up: she's going to graduate and marry her perfect boyfriend Adrien Agreste, who's on his way to becoming a lawyer and future president of the United States. Everything's perfect until he suddenly dumps her, claiming he needs someone more serious. He moves back out East to start at Harvard in the fall, where he's now dating childhood friend and fellow Snobby Harvard Girl Kagami Tsurugi. Marinette realizes that if she's gonna get her man back, she's got to be someone serious, too - someone lawerly! Someone who wears black when nobody's dead! So Marinette follows him out to Harvard, where she's...let's face it. The laughing stock of the school. But with a little determination (and the help of her super sweet TA Luka Couffaine, who's convinced she's not as Dumb as the others paint her) she's going to show everyone she belongs there - and win her Adrien back in the process!

So Marinette's Elle, Adrien is Warner, Kagami is Vivian, and Luka is Emmett. I'm putting Gabriel as Callahan, with the idea that part of the pressure on Adrien is that his father is this super successful lawyer & professor at Harvard who's expecting him to follow in his footsteps. (Also there's a line in the finale of the musical that says "Warner quit / Says he makes more modeling anyhow!", so while he's at UCLA I have Adrien modeling on the side and he totally goes back to it. 😂) Mylène is Paulette and Ivan is Kyle (the UPS guy). Rose and Alya are Marinette's Delta Nu sisters/best friends, and Juleka is still Luka's sister; Rose and Alya come out and the end to cheer Marinette on at the final trial, where Rose and Juleka meet.

Jagged is Brooke. He's being accused of murdering Bob Roth, his former label owner. He's innocent, but he refuses to give Gabriel his alibi (he was...getting...botox). He was Marinette's neighbor back in LA, and she designed his favorite leather jacket - so he freaks when Marinette walks in with his Estranged Son as part of his legal team. Luka and Jagged have a...tenuous relationship. Jagged is Luka's father, and Luka used to love music/want to be a rocker. He toured with Jagged for a year or two when he was younger as his opening act, but it really disillusioned Luka to the Music Scene. So he ended up pursuing law (thinking he could get into the legal side of things, and Anarka's always in and out of jail anyway so she'll need a good lawyer?), and finds out he's good at it & really enjoys it? It wasn't the career he thought he'd have, but he's happy.

I'm still kicking stuff around & writing the outline, but that's the bare-bones. 😂 And as much as I love the LB movie, the musical is one of my favorites. There's...guh ok I'm not gonna start gushing on how perfect the musical is bc we'll be here all day. 😂 But it is absolutely perfect, and this AU is going to be a blend of the movie and the musical.

Case in point: the song "Take It Like A Man", where Elle repays Emmett by giving him a makeover. It's the scene where Emmett realizes he's fallen in love with Elle and absolutely adorable ("God, I love shopping for guys - watching them change right before my eyes!" "...stop watching me change.").

As for a scene y'all haven't seen yet...I think you've seen a handful of sentences from this one? It's all new for Tumblr, but I think I shared a few sentences on the Disco. 😂

“Hey, Luka, what are you doing tonight?”

Luka looked up, his eyebrows lifting at the smile Marinette was giving him. Her chin was propped in her hand, her eyes looking over him like…well, a little like she was undressing him, if he was honest, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

“Er…prepping for tomorrow?” he hazarded. “Big day in court? Opening statements? Have to make sure we’re ready so my dad doesn’t swing.”

She rolled her eyes, and then she rolled her chair over to his. He jumped when she laid her hands over his.

“You’re ready,” she said. She squeezed his hand, and he swallowed thickly as she continued to look at him like that. Why did his throat suddenly feel so dry? “Can we go somewhere? I…I want to do something. To thank you. For…everything, really. Please?”

“You don’t need to thank me, Marinette,” he said, wondering what exactly she had in mind. Maybe dinner? He was getting kind of hungry, and he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t mind spending more time with her away from the law books…

“I do, though, Luka,” she said earnestly, squeezing his hand again. “You…you’re the only one who’s believed in me this entire time. You’ve done so much to help me, and…I just wanted to do something for you, too.” She took his hand and held it to her chest, pouting her lips and batting her eyes at him, and when had the heat kicked in? It was almost May – it shouldn’t be so hot in the old, draft library! “Please?”

“I…um…ok?” he finally squawked out. He cleared his throat when she hit him full-force with her mega-watt smile, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt as she squeezed his hand tighter. She gave an excited little squeal-giggle-bounce that had him smiling fondly. “What…what did you have in mind?”

“Well,” she said, releasing his hand and turning towards the table. She began gathering the files they’d scattered over the surface, tidying up. “You know I used to want to be a designer – you’ve heard Jagged go off about that coat.”

“His little frock star,” Luka snickered, and she gave him an exasperated little smile.

“If I had the time, I’d love to design you something,” she said, tapping the folders against the table to straighten them, She turned to him, hands on her hips. “But given we need you ready by tomorrow, that’s not possible. So, Luka Couffaine, I am going to give you…a makeover.”

That…was definitely not what he’d been expecting.

“Er…thanks?” he asked, because by the little hitch in his voice he was definitely asking, because he was definitely confused. A…makeover? But…why? Her expression fell a little, and he coughed as he reached up to loosen his tie. “I mean…it’s just…I didn’t think I needed one?”

And I was kind of hoping you’d suggest dinner?

“Luka,” she sighed, still exasperated. She grabbed his hands and hauled him to his feet before dragging him over to the fireplace. She gestured to the mirror sitting above the mantle, where he could clearly see his…ok, yeah, he looked a little disheveled, but they’d been in the library all day! He was expected to look rumpled! “Look at yourself.”

“I am,” he said, trying not to sound offended. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, trying (unsuccessfully) to even out the wrinkles in his shirt. He tried to ignore the shiver that wanted to race up his spine at her touch. Focus, Couffaine, he thought. She sighed, turning him towards her, eyeing his clothes rather critically.

“Luka, you know I adore you,” she said, and he tried to ignore the way that made his stomach flutter, “but look at you. This is a high-profile, celebrity case. It’s going to be televised, and you’re going to show up looking like your only suit came from a Goodwill?”

“Hey,” he protested, weakly. He could feel the heat rising on his cheeks again. He looked at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “I have two suits, thank you very much, and only one came from Goodwill.”

He glanced up at her to find she had lifted one of those perfectly sculpted brows at him, and he grinned sheepishly before adding: “…the other came from Salvation Army.”

“Luka!” she laughed, squeezing his arms, and his grin warmed into a smile. He liked making her laugh like that. He… “That’s my point, you dork!”

Her laughter petered off, and she started fiddling with his tie. He glanced down at his outfit and tried to see her point, but he honestly thought he looked fine? Rumpled, sure, but that wasn’t anything a good tumble in the dryer or some ironing couldn’t fix. The gray slacks weren’t bad, and the white dress shirt with the thin, dark blue check matched his dark blue tie. Sure, his shoes were a little scuffed, but no one was going to be looking at his shoes. Marinette sighed again, and he looked back up at her.

“Luka, do you remember what I told you I did? Back at UCLA?” she asked. He nodded.

“You had a 4.0 in fashion merchandising,” he said, making her smile. “You wanted to design clothes.”

“So let’s just say this is something I’m actually good at,” she teased, and he frowned as he reached up to lay a hand over one of hers. He squeezed, making her look up at him.

“Hey…you’re good at this, Marinette,” he said. Her smile said she didn’t believe him, so he squeezed her hand tighter. “I mean it, Marinette. I may have helped you study, but all of this was you. You got Agreste’s internship all on your own. You went from the bottom to top of your class on your own. You put the work in, Marinette. You’re so incredibly smart, and you’ve got this…this…gift. You see things others don’t. You aregood at this.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Marinette to throw herself at him in a bone-crushing hug. He stood there for a moment, dazed, but before he could move or think or respond she was already pulling away and wiping at misty eyes. She smiled up at him, and he wondered if it would be ok if he hugged her again. He kind of felt cheated out of the last one.

“Thank you, Luka,” she said, shaking her head to clear it. “Ugh, ok, but seriously! This is what I was originally good at – so let me shine, ok? Look. You’re good at this, too. You’re such a talented lawyer, and if Agreste gives you half the chance you’re going to blow them away in court – but no one’s going to be thinking about how brilliant you are if you show up looking like a bum. Luka, it’s…it’s me showing up to a costume party dressed like a bunny!”

He blinked at her, remembering all too well that night he’d bumped into her at the bookstore and she was dressed in nothing more than a one piece, bunny ears, and tail.

“The look is half the fight,” she said, taking his hands in her own. “Don’t give them a reason to judge you just because your shoes are old. Please? Let me buy you a suit. Let me do this for you, Luka.”

He still didn’t get it – not really, if he was perfectly honest – but when she looked at him like that…

“…ok,” he said, and the smile and second hug she gave him made it all worth it.

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #wip wednesday #wip wendesday: festering folder edition #legally blonde au #lukanette legally blonde au #y'all know how this story ends #it may get an adrienette tag #but they're never endgame round here #I don't know if you've noticed before #but each time adrien walks through the door #your IQ drops down to 40 #maybe less #I've been smiling and sweet an thoroughly beaten blowing my chance #let's not chase 'em away let's face 'em and say #HEY PUNK LET'S DANCE #I'm so excited for this one #mintaka14

[soft-for-them]

Doctor ❀ Captain Rex x Nonbinary reader ❀ Headcanons

anon: 👉👈 maybe a Captain Rex x NonBinary!Reader going out to 79's on a 'first date' type thing together? 🥺🥺

Not proof read.

. Now the day Captain Rex asked you out you were completely surprised. . For one thing it was out of the blue. . You see you’re a doctor who was drafted in from you home planet so you’re quite a different face from the mass of blank faced nurses and alien doctors who looked after the clone troopers. . From day one you have garnered attention from your patients wanting to know about you. . Actually, a couple clone troopers have already asked you out. . However, you have declines them all partly because you’re new but also because you they are only asking you out due to curiosity. . Anyway, you don’t know what’s so special about yourself, despite being a brilliant doctor, but you hope everything will calm down so you can settle in. . Most of the time you hang around the med bay whilst the more senior doctors’ boss around everyone. . Normally the more mundane things are left to you to do. . Mostly clone trooper come in but the odd Jedi do wonder in. . That’s how you meet Rex. . Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano and exceedingly handsome Rex had walked in one day when most people were on their breaks. . You know of Skywalker and Tano for they often come by with childish scrapes from each other that you keep quiet about so you don’t tarnish the Jedis reputations. . (I can imagine just Ahsoka and Anakin messing around like siblings and just accidentally hurting each other, like scrapped knees and sprained ankles.) . You were just patching up Anakin’s bleeding elbow whilst Ahsoka laughed her ass off and all you could do was steal looks at the all too pretty clone trying not to laugh too. . He stood a littles way off, a grin ghosted over his face, he clearly found the moment entertaining. . Some antiseptic and a big plaster later (with some more stolen glances at Rex) you had finished up patching up Anakin. . “All done master Skywalker, I hope that boo boo will heal very quickly.” You half joke making Ashoka laugh even more and Anakin pouting like a child. . But what gets you is the deeps laugh that rings out through out echoing around the room. . Rex was chuckling at your joke. . This man you had just met and started crushing on straight away. . If Anakin and Ahsoka where like little siblings play fighting all the time then you are certienly like a love sick teenager falling for some one just for their looks. . It’s like the first time you’d met Obi-Wan Kenobi all over again. . (I’d imagined that most people have had a thing for Kenobi…) . Tano and Skywalker mush have seen your flustered face as the man chuckled because both of them had given each other a knowing look. . A look of a plan forming. . As soon as all three where ushered out into the hallways by an impatient nurse complaining about their ‘too loud’ laughs did the two Jedis’ pounce. . Apparently for the next half an hour they both bugged Rex with anecdotes and complements towards you. . Everything from “Doctor (l/n) is probably the most intelligent person I know.” to “I’m surprised no one has asked them out yet.” to even “I heard one of the Jedi like likes them.” . So not even a hour later did Rex walk to you small desk and ask you out. . Obviously, you said yes but you were still shocked. . Very shocked indeed. . So shocked that now as you walk into the 79’s you look like a deer in headlights. . The two of you still in your work uniforms Rex leads to the bar. . He does a thing where he carries on standing, almost shielding you, as you pick a seat to sit in. . Only then does he sit next to you. . “Do you want a drink?” you are asking hoping that the nervousness between the two of you will go away. . He smiles, a word stuck on the tip of his tough, he seems like he wants to say something long but instead he just says something simple. . “I’ll have what you’re having.” . Rex knows what he likes to drink. . He could have easily just said what he wanted and be done with it but his curiosity and internal nervousness has gotten the better of him. . He remembers someone telling him that ‘you can tell a lot about someone about the drink they order at a bar.’ . You see he has

heard of your way before Anakin and Ahsoka had dragged him to you. . You’re the new doctor who has rejected three clones trying to ask you out. . You’re the quieter doctor who looks like they’d fit better in a doctor’s surgery handing out prescriptions and being a family doctor rather than being thrown into a war. . He has been curious about you for a while but finally meeting you, finally putting the face to the stories had urged him to ask you out (that with the two annoying Jedis coaxing him to also do it.) . You and Rex raise you hands to signal the waiter. . “Um- Can I have a (drink).” You half shout to the person behind the bar. . “Same for me.” He turns to you fully, “That’s actually a very good drink.” . “Well, I have good taste in things.” You try to flirt. . You might think the silly line falls flat but Rex faces sparks up, you did say yes to this, so surly you do have good taste. . Before he can get a half flirty quip out the barkeep comes over with your identical drinks. . Rex gets his drink first then the barkeep places a coaster in front of you place a drink on it. . “Sir?-Ma’am?-“ the barkeep begins. There’s no malice in their tone they are just a bit confused. . “Doctor.” You correct pointing down at you work uniform. . “Do you often use that?” Rex asks whilst sipping his drink. . “Use what, the doctor thing?” . He nods. . “It’s much harder trying to explain to every new person who I’m going to say one word to that I’m nonbinary, it’s much easier to say I’m a doctor.” . “I better not be just one of those new people you say one word too.” .You raise you drink up prompting Rex to clink his glass with yours and then you take a sip the lukewarm beverage that really shouldn’t be lukewarm. . “Please don’t call me doctor, call me (y/n).”

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Oof, Tumblr has been annoying all day, I think it's because I'm formatting on BETA editor sooo yeah, I just want to get this posted and done, I'll go back later and edit it.

I could re write this as a one shot if people like the concept because this isn't my best (but not my worst lol).

#star wars #star wars x reader #captain rex #captain rex x reader #x nonbinary reader #headcanons