#LycoRogue Fanfic

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: You Pretended Not to Care

HOO BOY! THIS STORY! (And by that, I mean the source material) I've barely written 3k words of fictional prose since 2022. Then I read through episode 20 of the webcomic adaptation of Not Your Typical Reincarnation Story (aka I Thought It Was A Common Transmigration), and I churn out a 7200-word BEAST to fill in that "fade to black" we got.

I did try to write this so even if you don't know/remember the source material you can still (hopefully) enjoy this sweet bit of smut. Hope I did right by all of you!

Oh! And btw, it wasn't until after I had this story edited did I go back and find the English translation of the original Korean webnovel. I'm pleasantly surprised at how close I was to the character's motivation and inner monologue. It was so cool to find out that I was able to pick up on the crumbs the author (and adaptor) left for me.

Also, in case it isn't clear, any italicized text between two chevrons (<>) is Killian remembering passages from Edith's diary. Also, for any who may be unfamiliar with the source material, or who might need a refresher, the reason Killian had Edith's diary in the first place was because she used it as a handwriting sample to prove papers were forged in her hand.

Finally, I tried really hard to make it evident when I switched POVs. If any part (or the whole thing 😬) feels "head-hoppy" please let me know.

OK! Enough stalling!

Summary: When Suna Choi reincarnated as Edith Rigelhof, the villainess of the novel Suna read the night before she died, she knew she had to do everything possible to avoid Edith's cruel execution at the hands of her own husband. Seemed easy enough to avoid the pitfalls that led to Edith's demise. She attempted to befriend the novel's protagonist Rhyse Sinclair. She refused to be her despicable father's spy. Most importantly, she wouldn't fall in love with her husband Killian Rudwick. His heart already belonged to Rhyse, and his arranged marriage to Edith wasn't going to change that. Despite her best efforts, Edith is still being forced down the same path as the original novel's plot. At least, that's what it seems like. But when Edith finally waves the white flag and decides to just follow the plot after all, the novel again has other plans. Edith steels herself for the next main plot point: a failed attempt to seduce her husband… except… this time it isn't going to fail…. **A more in-depth look at Episode 20 of the Webtoon adaptation that doesn't shy from the smut** Rating: Mature/Explicit (due to description of a sex scene) Word Count: 7,228 Status: completed one-shot Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3 or on DA.

You Pretended Not to Care

Dreading what she was about to do, Edith cracked open Killian's bedroom door. She hated this. She hated it all. She hated that she had no control over this life either. She hated that her fate was locked in. She hated that she had no choice but to have the entire Rudwick family despise her. To have Killian hate her.

Worst of all, she hated how she didn't hate him in return. She wanted to. She needed to. It would make everything easier. Despite the past three months, though, she didn't hate her husband. What's worse, there were those quiet moments where he didn't seem to remember that he was supposed to hate her as well.

Those quiet moments -- those glimmers of hope that he could maybe learn to love her -- were the cruelest parts of this new life. Those breaths of fresh air where she truly believed that she might have found a home where she could relax and enjoy life. That she found a loving family. That someone could maybe fall in love with her. That she wasn't destined to have her own husband cut her down while she begged for his mercy.

She didn't want to advance the story to its next plot beat. It was too painful to be so vulnerable, and for that vulnerability to be twisted into manipulation and used against her. She had no choice though. That was now clear. Despite how much she fought to not be the Edith Rigelhof she had read about, despite showing kindness and humility and making every strategic move she could think of to avoid Edith's downfall, the story marched on exactly the same.

Edith purposefully didn't pick out dresses for herself while the dressmakers were at the estate, and she was still accused of being rudely disapproving, unappreciative, and entitled. She graciously accepted the dainty ruby necklace Rhyse picked out for her, and yet Killian's older brother Cliff still bought all of the other jewels for Rhyse in order to make a point. Just like in the novel. Edith wanted nothing to do with espionage and smuggling information to her father. She even sent him a letter stating precisely that. She was then framed and accused of espionage nonetheless. It didn't matter what she tried. The story was already written. There was no way to change it. The plot would just correct itself to keep following the path already carved by the novel.

Tonight, Edith will attempt to seduce her husband. There was no getting around it. The story would find a way to make sure of that. Even if Edith never left her room again, she'd probably still be accused of it; hated for it. She'd lose Killian no matter what she tried. She might as well lean into her fate. She could at least enjoy getting one kiss.

Edith stood beside Killian's bed. She stared at his beautiful face; his bangs fallen into his eyes. His white shirt was loose and partially unbuttoned, leaving a tantalizing view of his strong, broad chest. A chest she wanted to lie upon; to be held against. Edith knew she was doomed the second she set eyes on Killian. Not just because he was destined to literally kill her, but because – aside from his older brother's mesmerizing golden eyes – Killian was the most breathtakingly beautiful human she had ever seen.

She knew the deal. Killian was madly in love with his family's ward: Rhyse Sinclair. He'd spend his whole marriage to Edith loathing the arrangement and resenting his wife's very existence. It was impossible to win her husband's affection, especially away from the gorgeous and charming little Rhyse. There was no point in falling in love with Killian.

She couldn't resist no matter how hard she tried, however. Even before being reincarnated as Edith, Suna Choi had preferred Killian. He was the secondary love interest of the novel Stop Obsessing Over Me, Brother! She knew that his attempts were hopeless, that Rhyse and Cliff were end-game. Still, the way Killian loved Rhyse and supported her felt so much more sincere. Suna had wondered what it would be like for Killian -- or, really, any man -- to love her the way he loved Rhyse.

And then she was reincarnated as his wife in an arranged marriage. She saw him pine over Rhyse instead of her. Suna didn't fault him, though. It was that devotion towards Rhyse that Suna had fallen in love with Killian for in the first place. She didn't begrudge Rhyse for making Killian smile so brilliantly. She just wished he would smile her way now and again as well.

After tonight, there was no hope that she'd ever see Killian smile again.

Good, she thought, I can't keep pretending this marriage will ever work out. I can't keep holding onto hope. After this incident, please hate me like you're supposed to. So that I can resolve my own feelings.

Edith brushed her hair back and out of her face as she leaned down towards her husband. His soft lips were temptingly parted as he slept; beckoning. It would be the last bit of fun Edith would be able to have. She could give herself a treat. Make what she was about to do worth it.

Even with how cruel Killian had been to her, though, she couldn't do that to him. She knew that he was saving every part of himself for Rhyse. He was going to hate Edith either way, but she couldn't bear to take that away from him. She wasn't the villainess they had all decided she was.

Instead, her lips drifted to his forehead, softly brushing his bangs out of the way without use of her hands. She soaked him in best she could; inhaling his scent as her lips tenderly kissed his smooth skin, the tension of his daily scowling at her relaxed as he slept.

Her lips lingered a bit longer than they probably needed. She didn't want to pull away and give up the only loving contact she'd probably ever have with her husband. Edith needed it all over with, though. She retreated slightly, but still stayed close enough that her face would fill Killian's vision as he opened his eyes.

Now, when he wakes up, Edith thought, he'll look at me with disgust.

She wanted to avoid this next part so bad. She feared seeing what true disgust would look like carved on Killian's angelic face. She knew she'd seen close, and it pained her each time she remembered each of those cold, heartless looks. This would be a new level, though, and she struggled to not cry in anticipation.

Killian stirred oh-so-slightly. His breathing shifted. His lashes fluttered.

Here it comes. Get it over with, Killian. Prove to me that you will only ever hate me.

Edith expected a scowl upon him seeing her. Shouting. Shoving. A demand for guards to take her out of his sight. A berating for her vulgar behavior.

She did not expect Killian's right hand snatching hold of her left wrist.

Edith jumped back, tugging slightly against Killian's tight -- but still gentle -- grip.

“You pretended not to care this whole time.” There wasn't any grogginess in his sharp tone. It was as if he had been awake the whole time. Edith panicked that he had somehow known about her seduction attempt and had faked being asleep.

She wiggled to break free, but Killian tightened his grip. Edith was startled not by his strength, but by his control. His grip was firm, unrelenting, and a bit ravenous. But it didn't hurt. The tension made it seem like he wanted to hurt her, and yet his grip never once clamped down enough, as if something inside him was able to stop his muscles just before breaking that thin line.

“Are you now so overwhelmed with lust,” Killian continued, “that you can't pretend anymore?” He was sat up in bed. His head was tilted forward, knocking his bangs back into his eyes, giving him a mischievous, fox-like stare. He finally smiled at Edith, but it wasn't the warm, beaming, kind smile he would give to Rhyse. This was a lecherous smile full of cunning and the satisfaction of a successful hunt.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! Everything else had gone exactly how Edith had read it in the novel. No matter how she handled the situation, the end result was always the same. Edith was still accused of being vulgar and entitled after the dressmakers visited. She was still left with just the dainty necklace while Rhyse received the rest of the stock the jewelers brought to the estate. Edith was still accused of espionage, put under house-arrest, and eventually let go. It shouldn't have mattered what she did that night. Killian was still supposed to awake disgusted with her seduction attempt.

Killian's look was anything but disgusted though.

“No,” Edith choked out in fear. Her mind raced as she tried to sort out what Killian was planning on doing with her. “I just--”

“That's fine,” he interrupted. With the elegance and strength only gained from years of sword mastery, Killian yanked on Edith's left arm, pulling her towards his bed while also flipping her onto her back. In an instant, he was straddling her knees.

Edith's long, red hair billowed out behind her like a messy halo; pinned beneath her body. Her left arm equally pinned to the bed by Killian's stern grip still on her wrist. Her right arm was free, but it felt too heavy to move as Killian looked down on her with that mischievously lustful grin.

“Satisfy me, Edith. Seduce me like the Rigelhofs taught you.” Killian started undoing another button on his thin, white shirt. His eyes drilling into his stunned bride beneath him. “Who knows? I might end up attached to your body.” His voice got deep and had a voracious gravel to it.

What is he doing? This isn't right! This isn't how it was supposed to go at all!

“W-wait! Killian!” Edith willed her right arm to move, and she pried Killian's hand off of her. Without him pinning her down, Edith sat up best she could. Her eyes flashed with worry, panic, and confusion. She knew this wasn't what Killian wanted. It couldn't be. The novel version of him had no interest in Edith. He would never fall for her seduction attempts. He was too devoted to--

“Are you sure...” She took a deep breath. She didn't want to ask. She didn't want to hear his answer. She didn't want him to change his mind. She knew she had to be certain, however. “You'll be alright with me?”

Killian stopped undressing himself. The passion and thrill of the hunt flushed from his face as Edith looked up at him in full earnest.

“...and not Rhyse?” she finished.

A pain shot through Killian's chest and his stomach twisted slightly. Does she truly not care, he wondered, enough to bring up my feelings for Rhyse?

He pulled away, stepping off the bed and allowing Edith to sit the rest of the way up. Her eyes were so huge and sincere. It was hard to not recognize the surprise painted across her face. It made Killian want to both retreat from her and devour her.

Even if we were forced into a marriage of convenience... she really doesn't expect anything from me, her husband....

Her lack of expectation from him infuriated him. She was fully aware of his love for Rhyse, and she had resigned herself to a loveless marriage. Even so--

<His face is glowing and his body is so hot! I can't stop drooling, just thinking about him....> <I really think Killian is more my type than Cliff.> <I happened to see him wave at Rhyse-- I thought I might be blinded by his smile.>

Killian was giving himself to Edith, and yet she stopped him. Even when he thought he was offering her exactly what she desired she still expected nothing from him.

Killian wanted to satisfy her. He demanded that she satisfy him, but he knew he wanted it the other way around. He wanted to reward her words in her diary. He wanted her to keep watching him and desiring him. He didn't want her to give up her fight for his affection. He yearned for her to crave him.

He rested a hand beside her leg on the edge of the bed, then made it creak slightly as he leaned towards her. She leaned away, giving him space as she studied him and tried to figure out his angle.

His angle was lust.

With the blinding swiftness he used before to catch her wrist and pull her onto the bed, Killian pinched Edith's chin between his thumb and forefinger. Halting her retreat instantly, Killian leaned closer, bringing her face inches from his. He stared intensely into her large, uneasy eyes, and delighted in how his boldness caused those doe-eyes to soften and close slightly.

They were the furthest from Rhyse's eyes. Edith's large breasts -- raising and lowering in quick, short breaths -- were far from Rhyse's as well. Edith's full, supple thighs and curved hips were the opposite of Rhyse's slender frame. Her wavy, fiery red hair equally foiled the elegant fairness of Rhyse's straight golden-blonde locks.

Killian loved Rhyse. It was true. He'd do anything for her. He wanted to spend every waking moment with her. He delighted in her smile. He wanted to protect such a gentle and delicate woman. She was sunshine personified. He had wanted to give her his all.

Edith was the farthest from Rhyse that he could think of. Yet he also wanted to give her his all. In a different way. In a more primal way. He wanted to gift himself to Rhyse. He wanted to lose himself in Edith.

And yet, Edith hesitated when he offered precisely that. If this was what she wanted, why would she care if Killian would regret their night together?

“I should be asking you that question.” He whispered. Soft. Firm. Challenging. Playful. Aloof. Yearning. “Aren't you the one who was so confident in yourself that you would crawl into my bed in the middle of the night?”

She wouldn't believe him if he told her he wanted this. He wasn't even sure he could say those exact words.

Edith...

He'd get her to accept his offer. To forget Rhyse the way he did. This wasn't about her. This was about a man and his wife. This was about quelling a fire. This was about finally letting go and truly going for something he desired without hesitation.

Killian pressed his lips against Edith's.

Her eyes stayed wide; frozen in shock. Those lips weren't supposed to be hers, as much as she wanted them to be. They were Rhyse's. Killian had waited the last four years for her. He had never before felt the touch of a woman. Never tasted another's mouth. And yet he was pressed against Edith's.

It was a bit awkward. A little innocent, but still very lustful. Suna never felt this level passion before in her life. Either of them. It shot warm shivers through her core.

Killian ravenously pushed on her mouth with his own, trying to force her down. Edith retreated across the mattress, and he pursued her, crawling his way back onto his bed. His left knee wedged between her legs.

Edith's fear of the consequences and misconceptions of this night vaporized as Killian's kiss drained her brain of oxygen. This night alone didn't cause her eventual death, so why not enjoy the bliss?

With a gasp and slow exhale to steady his breath again, Killian pulled away. He towered over Edith as he remained kneeling with their legs interwoven. Before Edith could regain her own senses, Killian brusquely snatched her wrist once more.

<His face is glowing and his body is so hot!>

“After all the snooping and sneaking glances,” Killian aggressively teased, “now you can touch me all you want.” He finished unbuttoning his shirt and pressed Edith's right hand against his tight pectoral. With a shrug his undone shirt slid off his shoulders, revealing them to her as well.

Edith fiercely blushed as she remembered that Killian had read a portion of her diary when she used it to try to prove her handwriting was forged; that she wasn't the one who sent insider knowledge to her father. Her face and ears burned as she tried to mentally recount exactly what she had said about Killian; what he could have possibly read. How lustful had she been in her writings? Was he just toying with her to teach her a lesson?

“N-no,” Edith stammered in a panic, “that's not what I...” Her eyes darted from her hand on his chest up to Killian's deep, dark eyes. The puckish grin and challenging stare had both fallen; softened. Killian almost looked defeated; pleading. He couldn't have possibly wanted -- genuinely wanted -- Edith to lust after him, could he?

His chest beneath her hand was firm and silky, but it rose and fell in uneven, subtly quivering breaths.

That's right. Killian didn't know the touch of a woman before now. He wouldn't possibly go this far just to mess with me, right?

“What I mean is...” Edith relented. She pressed slightly with her finger tips, and Killian's grip loosened, more cradling her wrist than actually holding it. He gently directed her to follow the crease separating his pecs. Edith's fingers quaked against the soft ridges of his chest. Before her mind could catch up with her body, her fingers slid down to his abs. She outlined each one with her nails, memorizing the sensation as it shook through her.

Killian's muscles were all the more defined as he directed Edith to explore them. He flexed each one as her fingers wandered. He had to. It was the only way to keep himself from shivering at her touch. He wasn't expecting the tingles along his skin. He didn't anticipate how much his body would miss the delicate tickle of her fingers as they roamed to a different part of him. He wanted to collapse into her. He wanted to give her everything she desired of his body. He wanted to devour her in kind. He wanted to tear the nightgown she was wearing. Ruin his sheets. Decimate his mattress.

He had always been able to keep his desires in check before. He was able to have full control of himself. With Edith, however? With her feather-soft touch? With those fierce quips? With those saucer-large inquisitive eyes? With her quiet lusting for her husband? With that porcelain skin? He was becoming a beast and he needed to rein himself in.

“Are you happy now?” He asked her barely above a whisper. His voice strained as he struggled to contain himself. They hadn't even done anything physically strenuous, yet sweat already dotted his temples. He hoped Edith didn't hear him gulp down the sticky saliva making his mouth dry and his teeth hungry for her skin.

<I really think Killian is more my type than Cliff.>

He had never been preferred over his brother before. He was either Cliff's equal or he had fallen behind at some point. Killian knew his father would never overlook Cliff and name him heir of the dukedom instead. He also knew that it was pointless to think that he could ever win Rhyse away from Cliff. There was no world wherein Killian got what Cliff desired.

Killian didn't need to fight for Edith though. She was all his, and she preferred it that way. He wanted to make sure she would always choose him over his brother.

As he stared down at her, Edith melted at Killian's soft, flushed face. His tight voice rattled in her head; otherwise empty due to her brain traveling along with her fingers across Killian's exposed stomach. His hand giving her the guided tour. Happy? she thought, I could spend the rest of my life just touching this man's waist, stomach, arms, and chest...

Suddenly, she realized he had asked her a question that she didn't answer. Blushing harder, she focused on her hand traveling back up to his left pectoral. She was acutely aware of what she had been doing, and how humiliating it was that he had read her diary and then called her out on what she wrote via... this! She couldn't look at him. Not into those soft, pleading, lost eyes.

She tried to ignore the quivering in her voice as she answered. “Huh? Oh... I-I...”

Killian used his right hand to continue directing Edith's fingers as they skated across his chest. Meanwhile, his left hand found her ankle and started venturing its way up her leg, pushing up the skirt of her nightgown slightly as he did. His nails dug tantalizingly into the back of her calf just below her knee.

“Yes...” Edith breathed, finally answering Killian. Yes! Good Power Almighty, yes! In both this life and her previous one, she had never been more happy. She wanted this to go on endlessly.

Screw restraint. Edith's breathy “yes” was all Killian needed. That single word was filled with tension begging to be released. It broke Killian's willpower. He needed her now. His hand snaked from outside her gown to under it, feeling the silky lines of her bare legs. A fever raced through him and his groin twitched.

Like a taught fishing line, Killian's eyes darted to the nape of Edith's neck. That obscene lure that snagged him their wedding night. With an invisible yank of the line, Killian's lips crashed into her neck.

Edith gasped and twitched at the touch, which just made Killian linger there all the more. His teeth gently scraped across her collarbone and his lips brushed against her skin in phantom kisses. Each inch his mouth crawled caused her to squirm and gasp again.

This was a fun game. He wondered how many times he could make her quiver. Was it infinite? Would she eventually numb to his touch? Could he turn that gasp into a squeak or a moan?

I can't believe I find Edith Rigelhof adorable...

Her chest heaved in shaky breaths against his bare chest, and his heart raced knowing how undone he was making his fiery bride. His hand crept higher up her thigh, his forearm pushing the skirt of her nightgown up and over her knee. All of his slow, methodical, gentle touches made her shift and squirm, and it excited him all the more.

“K-Killian!” she gasped as her leg twitched against his touch.

There must be something wrong with me, Killian mentally berated himself as he shifted his weight forward, creaking the bed again.

Then it happened. Edith groaned. It was strained, like she was fighting against letting the lewd sound escape her lips. It was soft and deep and rumbled out of her chest.

Killian ripped his arms out of his sleeves and tossed his shirt to the floor. He then crashed right back into Edith, concentrating on her right collarbone this time. His hand reaching her bare hip as he rested more of his weight against her.

Edith's mind went blank. She knew she needed to keep her wits about her. She needed to strategize. She had to deduce how this act would be twisted by the story to keep the plot on track. Prepare herself. Find a way to at least lessen the blow.

Instead, her mind was filled with Killian's lips on her skin and his hand on her hip; wordlessly instructing her to strip. She was more than happy to comply.

Shifting her weight, Edith slid the back of her nightgown up to her waist so she was no longer sitting on the skirt. Lightning shot through her as her fingers entangled briefly with Killian's. She then squeaked out his name as his hand followed hers and he caressed her ass.

“What's wrong?” Killian roguishly chuckled into Edith's ear before nibbling on it. “No final words for me tonight?”

He was right. It was mortifying for her to be his putty like this. She needed to take charge. Just as she had always done with him. She had never allowed him the upper hand before. Every time he had pushed her she would push right back.

First, she needed to regain her bearings.

Edith arched her head to try to pull away from Killian's insatiable mouth. It backfired and instead left more skin for him to explore, making her squeak with surprise. Her nails scraped across the sheets, and she gathered whatever loose cloth she could into her tightening grip. Her toes curled. Her stomach flipped. She had failed. She didn't want Killian's lips to ever leave her skin. She panted his name once more as she submitted to him.

Shifting his weight to better balance himself, Killian kept his left hand exploring Edith's leg and hip. His right hand then traced its way up her spine, searching for the tie to her nightgown. Upon feeling the soft ribbon tail, he tugged. Her gown loosened. The neckline instantly drooped and slid off her right shoulder, granting Killian more real estate to traverse. As his lips and left hand continued their private expeditions, Killian's right hand traveled back down Edith's spine, making her shiver at his touch.

His middle finger caught the buttons along the ribbon at Edith's waist. It was a bit more work to slide them back through their restrictive loops than he expected. Despite normally being a very dexterous person, Killian was clumsy with his unbuttoning, and he growled his frustration about it into Edith's shoulder. Gasping, Edith grabbed the back of his head and held him against her skin. Her hips shifted in his grasp as well. Her left leg pushing against his right, spreading herself more for him.

Killian's chest tightened. His nails pressed against her hip. He slid his left leg over, shifting her leg as well. A new fragrance wafted into the room. It made his head spin and his heart race. Cradling the back of Edith's head, Killian broke from her grasp and collided with her lips.

Running on an autopilot she didn't even realize she had, Edith massaged Killian's lips with her own, demonstrating the proper way their mouths should dance. Her tongue gently tapped against his lower lip. He instantly granted her entry, and she gingerly ventured into his mouth. He greedily pushed back, nearly choking her.

She pulled back with a gag, and Killian instantly stilled. Heat billowed off of them both as they stared each other down, studying their partner for their next move. Cradling each side of his face, Edith gently pulled him down to her. She gave him a cautious, closed-mouth kiss. He allowed her to set the pace, so she tested the waters with her tongue again. His lips parted hungrily and welcomed her inside. She gently pushed against his tongue before trying to wrap her own around his. Understanding, Killian responded in kind. Softly this time. He let her take the lead as his mind instead focused on her buttons again.

Edith rested her head against the bed, and pulled Killian down with her. She left her back arched for his hands to undo her buttons. The new angle helped him, and they unfastened all the easier. Each time she felt her nightgown loosen a bit more around her waist, Edith ran her nails across Killian's back. Finally, the third button was released.

Realizing his task was done, Killian sharply inhaled Edith's scent. Pulling away from her mouth, he slowly let his breath back out with a ravenous sigh. His hands roamed her bare legs. Her hands explored his back. His heart pounded in his ears. He couldn't believe the next step he was about to take. There would be no undoing this night. He would never be able to pretend it didn't happen.

“Killian?”

Her voice was too gentle. Too breathy. Her eyes were too wide and pleading. Her hair looked too enticing sprawled out behind her on his bed. Her skin was too soft. Too warm. Too welcoming.

“Tell me what you want, Edith.”

“I--” She studied him. This was her out. She could escape before this whole thing went any further. They'd regret this in the morning. She knew that much. At least, Killian would regret it the moment his lust was satiated. She just needed to tell him no, and he'd probably let her leave.

She couldn't deny what she wanted though. The weight of his body pressed against hers was too sweet. The slight roughness of his swordsman-calloused fingers sent electricity through her. Her body was feverish and her mouth was dry and starving. She'd break if they stopped now.

“I want you, Killian,” she whispered.

That puckish smirk returned, along with a glint in his eyes.

“What do you want from me?”

“Whatever you are willing to give.”

“What if I already did that?”

Edith's face fell. Of course he was just teasing her, playing with her. Her face burned with embarrassment and desire. She curled in on herself, and nibbled her thumbnail to try to release some tension.

“Do you wish for me to leave then?”

Killian's stomach flipped as Edith looked up at him with a little pout. Watching her bite down on her fingernail made him instantly miss her mouth. He wanted to hear her pant again; moan again; to gasp out his name again. He would never sleep again if he didn't know those sounds by heart.

He leaned in so his lips were tantalizingly close to hers. “I wish for you to tell me specifically what it is that you want from me.”

Her gasping breaths tickled his lips. Edith's mind raced for the right answer. She knew this was a test of some sort. Her brain was too full of lewd thoughts though. Now wasn't the time for strategy. Before she could finish calculating, her mouth blurted out, “I want to feel you.” Her eyes darted towards his waist before blinking back to match his gaze. “All of you.”

Killian's crotch twitched. In an instant, his tongue was in Edith's mouth again, and his hand was tangled up in her hair. His free hand scrambled for the bottom hem of her nightgown, and he was startled to find her hand already pulling it up for him.

They broke away from each other, and he hurriedly peeled her gown up and over her head. He didn't look at her skin as it was exposed. Instead, his eyes followed the cloth as it slid up her body and through her long, thick hair before it dropped to the floor. When he turned back to his bride she sheepishly had her arms over her chest and her knees pressed against his leg still wedged between them.

Could Edith Rigelhof be shy about her body?

With a tenderness Killian didn't understand, he brushed his fingers against her exposed collarbone. He then played with her shoulder for a second, drawing a few circles and causing Edith to shiver at his touch. He then traced her arm down to her elbow, and then across to her wrist. His hand never ventured towards her breasts, instead concentrating on the goosebumps growing on his wife's arms.

Edith squirmed beneath him. Her breath quaked in anticipation. She fought the urge to just grab him and do whatever she needed to satisfy herself. She felt so close to the brink as it was already, it wouldn't take long.

What is he doing? she thought as Killian's feather-light touch skated across her skin. Why is he so--? It kept her a second to realize the word she was looking for was sensual.

She was still nervous about letting him fully see her. True, he had watched her in the tub their wedding night, but she was able to partially cover up, and the rose water obscured his view slightly. Killian's room was dark, but this was still different. He could destroy her at any second.

She didn't take her eyes off his face from the moment her nightgown was tossed to the floor. That fox-like mischievous hunger he first had when he caught her in his room was gone. As his hand traced her arm his eyes had a soft concentration to them. He focused on exploring every inch of her skin with genuine curiosity. His upper teeth brushed his lower lip, as if fighting against biting it. He gently pressed his knee against her bare crotch, and Edith resisted grinding against it.

Why isn't he simply taking me?

Then Edith remembered how new Killian was to all of this. As flustered as she might be, she still had some experience in her previous life. Killian didn't. When his hand reached her wrist she relented to his touch and let him pull her arm away with ease. With her free hand, she cradled his face and brushed his cheek with her thumb.

“Edith.” He whispered her name. He had no clue why. It was like a prayer. Like a confirmation that he wasn't actually asleep. She was there. She was waiting for him. She was gorgeous.

He started at the nape of her neck, then kissed down to her cleavage. He tasted the faint salt pooling along her skin. He felt her chest shiver at his touch. He focused on her soft panting. Her breasts were so velvety. He never imagined how pillowy they actually were. As his lips and tongue explored her chest Edith moaned again.

“Killian--” She sharply inhaled as he switched to the other breast. “Please.” She whimpered slightly, but held his head in place.

Hearing her plead with him awakened the animal instincts in him once more. In a flash, his pants were off and on the floor. He then grabbed behind each of her knees and angled her so he was pressed against her soft flesh. She gasped at him simply knocking on her door. Her heat engulfed him. Juices already welcomed him.

“Do it again,” he growled. It wasn't malicious. He meant to demand this of her, but his voice came out wanting.

“Hmm?”

“Plead.” He hoped she didn't hear the pleading in his own voice.

Edith's nails dug deliciously into Killian's upper arms as she weakly tugged on them. She looked up at him with her large, saucer-wide eyes, her eyebrows pinched in yearning. “Please,” she whimpered. “Keep going. Don't stop.”

Killian's crotch twitched again in response, and he thrust forward, causing Edith to cry out. His angle was off and he instantly knocked into bone.

Edith winced, but truly didn't want him to stop. She pulled his hands down to her hips. Then laced her legs around his waist, holding him in place so he couldn't retreat. She then shifted her hips and arched her back. As she readjusted around Killian he rubbed against her clit and she cooed.

“Are you okay?”

Edith blinked up at him.

Did he seriously ask me that?

She nodded. “Slow. Please?”

He complied. At an achingly slow pace, he slid out of her until just his tip remained inside. He then slid back in just as slowly, allowing Edith to shift and readjust his angle as he crept back into her. He watched every inch of her shifting body and blushing face.

“Like this?”

Edith whimpered out an affirmative as she bit her lip.

Killian gave her a couple more slow thrusts to memorize the proper angle. He felt like he was going to burst at this pace though. His whole body vibrated as he ached to build up the pressure faster.

“I can't keep going this--”

“Faster,” she interrupted. “Please.”

He gladly complied. Noting the angle he needed to be in, he shifted them both so he could thrust his hips faster. Edith cried out once more, and Killian instantly paused, nervous that he hurt her again.

“No. Please. Keep going,” she panted. “Like that. Please.”

He did as his wife asked of him, causing her to squeak and moan some more. It was becoming Killian's new favorite sound.

“Killian.”

No. Hearing her pant out his name like that. That was his new favorite sound.

He leaned in and kissed her neck and along her jaw. She shuddered at his touch and ran her fingers through his hair.

Suna had boyfriends in her past life. She had slept with them before. It wasn't terribly frequent, but she wasn't inexperienced.

Nothing felt as good as Edith felt in that moment, though. Her body was feverish. Tension was knotting in her stomach. Her mind grew foggy. Her skin tingled. Killian's body was the exact weight to counter the pressure building inside her.

Maybe it was the learned vigilance of a swordsman. Maybe it was because Killian was a virgin. Maybe it was because he was exploring and experimenting. Maybe it was because he was subtly looking to Edith for direction while pretending he was still in charge himself. But Edith had never known a man so attentive. Every changed note of her moans told him where to press. Every shift in her breath directed him where to kiss. Every mew that escaped her lips informed him of how fast he should be going. A few sharp gasps instructed Killian on where to focus while inside her.

“Killian,” she panted again. She was cresting the hill. Her whole body felt so tight. She didn't realize that sex could feel so amazing. She wanted more. She didn't want Killian to ever let her go.

His back was clammy against her greedy hands. The sweat from his chest mixed with hers. His primal grunts and growls only made her body heat up faster. His face remained buried in her neck and chest.

“Edith,” he gasped, causing her heart to skip. She didn't want to admit until that very moment that she had been wondering if he was just picturing her as Rhyse. That he was ignoring who he was actually sleeping with. That he was using her as little more than a sex doll stand-in for his true love.

“Edith, moan again for me.”

He quickened his pace again. One hand anchored him to the bed. The other wrapped around Edith's back and latched him to her. He rocked his hips, trying to remember to grind against her slightly as he thrust into her.

Edith's chest tightened as her breath became harder and harder to catch. She bit her lip and groaned against the tension. She whimpered with longing and pinched her eyes tightly closed. The pressure in her crotch increased, but the one against her stomach lessened.

“Edith.” Killian's voice shook as he struggled with his own tight chest. “Look at me.”

She did. She released a breath she forgot she was holding, and opened her eyes. He wasn't pressed against her anymore. He had pulled far enough away to look at her; watch her face again. He grunted as he quickened his pace once more, slamming hard into her. She didn't care. She needed that extra pressure as well. She winced, trying to trap a scream inside her throat.

“Don't.” He brushed her lip with his thumb. “Don't hold it in.”

He grunted and gasped as he climbed to his own climax. With an animalistic drive, he did whatever he needed to finish. He barely slid out of her, keeping the pressure of her vagina firmly wrapped around him.

Every inch of Edith felt too weak to do anything but let him use her. Still, she wanted to repay him for his efforts, so she tightened herself best she could. She instantly felt him pulse against her, and she screamed out. She didn't try to muffle herself this time.

Her constricting around him, followed by her crying out in ecstasy was the final push for him. Loudly moaning himself, he released all of that built up tension inside his wife. She responded in kind. Her back arched and she rocked onto the back of her head. Every muscle within her tightened like a rope about to snap. Her toes curled and her nails dug into his back. He felt her hips shift and her walls pulse around him; squeezing him dry. She cried out with a high pitched scream of pleasure, and her legs shook against his hips.

Both spent, Killian collapsed against Edith's chest. Her legs flopped to either side of him, and she melted under his weight. They both struggled to catch their breaths, but Edith had little problem running her hand through Killian's hair, petting him.

Killian was the first to even out this breathing. Gently, he lifted himself off of Edith and brushed his sweaty hair out of his face. Her hand rested against his chest, not ready to separate from him.

“Edith,” he whispered once more.

She couldn't respond. Her own breath was still too shaky.

Tenderly, he untangled himself from between her legs.

Here it comes. Edith looked away from him. He was satiated now. His senses would soon come back, and he would throw her out of his room; instantly regretful for his lapse in judgment.

Killian took her in. He watched her start to curl into herself again, her eyes tightly closed against him.

Is she nervous that I will want to go again before she recovers?

Killian brushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed her forehead.

Edith's eyes shot open, and she turned to face him. “Killian?”

He didn't say anything. He simply snuggled next to her and rested his head on her shoulder. He then pulled the sheets up around them.

“You should stay here tonight.”

She blushed as she nodded, then rolled onto her side. Killian's arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close to him. His body heat wrapped around her was soothing, and it wasn't long before she fell asleep in his arms.

Killian felt Edith's breathing slow as she dozed off. Her body relaxed against him. Her scent filled his nostrils, making him feel a little dizzy. He didn't hate the sensation though. Despite common sense screaming otherwise, he didn't hate anything that happened that evening.

He had been relieved to find out that Edith had woken up earlier that day, but didn't know how to approach her. He had feared that he was part of the reason she had fainted in the first place. He had assumed that she no longer wanted anything to do with him.

His heart had danced when he caught her in his room. She looked so earnest and innocent it had overwhelmed him.

Then he was inside her, and he never imagined a feeling so amazing. It took all of the willpower he had earned from years of training to not climax after that first corrected thrust. He couldn't let that opportunity go by so quickly. He focused on Edith instead of his own euphoria as best as he could to make it last.

Besides, after everything, didn't he owe Edith that much?

Killian kissed the crown of her head and pulled her in tighter.

What am I going to do with you, Edith Rudwick?

He buried his face into her plush locks, and fell into one of the deepest and most restful sleeps he remembered having.

[lycorogue]

Wanted to do this separate from the ID in case you wanted/needed the ID but didn't want to share this part.

Anyway, I also 1000% headcanon poor Plagg's former abuse. So much so that I wrote a story of my headcanon.

Forever in Darkness

AO3  FFN DA Tumblr

Published: Dec 2019 Summary: Plagg has always been in darkness. It had become all he knew. Then he got a ray of sunshine, and it helped save him. There was a reason he believes Adrien is the best Chat Noir ever. Rating: Teen and Up (for references to violence) Word Count: 4702 Tags: #Plagg  #Adrien Agreste  #Tikki  #Nooroo  #Jeanne d'Arc | Joan of Arc  #Jean de Metz  #Aladdin  #Master Fu  #TW: emotional abuse  #TW: emotional torture  #TW: execution mention  #TW: child death mention  #TW: war mention  #Headcanon  #Plagg’s past  #Lesser Genie of the Ring  #Greater Genie of the Lamp  #Angst  #Emotional Hurt/Comfort  #Found Family  #Tower of Pisa  #Hundred years’ war  #WWII  #Guardians of the Miraculous

i’m feeling normal tonight. anyways do you guys think the reason plagg is jaded and sassy and hates following rules is because his miraculous was misused for evil in the past and he had a mean and demanding holder who wouldn’t let him talk back?

[skarabrae-stone]

WIP Title Tag Game

Tagged by @bifuriouswaterbender. Thanks for the tag! Some of these will sound familiar to those who follow my @captaintoomanybattles blog, as I post more about my WIPs (which are mostly Marvel-related) on there.

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your wip folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

I don’t have a dedicated WIP folder, but here are a few of the WIP titles in my writing folder-- I’m only including ones that I’m still working on at least in theory. :D

Original fiction:

avren mourna draft 2

arranged marriage

captive and monster

Marvel fanfic:

bucky romania

every dog my father raised

homeless teen

in my mind i still need a place to go

jolene 3

shrinkyclinks oakland

shrinkyclinks snowstorm

steve homeless

winter soldiers draft 2

Tagging: @elvenfforestydd @beemotionpicture @xemiliagryphonx @h-i-raeth @16woodsequ @perplexinglyparadoxialperson @planeoftheeclectic @purpleicedteas @ralsbecket @burberrycanary @lycorogue @sadbookworm and anyone else who wants to play!

[thetauruspixie]

hiiiii 🥑🧃❄️ 🪲

Hello, my dear Luka design hater! Thank you for the ask!

You accidentally killed somebody. Which mutual(s) do you text for help?

I dunno why, but my first thought was you. I just think you have the right amount of chaotic energy to help in a situation like that, lol. I'd also probably ask @lycorogue since she is my mama wolf and would hopefully protect me ahaha! And @jowyavilon since he is my boyfriend and so he has to help me.

Share some personal lore that you never posted about before.

I'm not quite 100% sure what exactly this question is asking, but I'm going to interpret it as lore regarding my fics or OCs? Hmmm. Not sure if I've posted about this before, but my characters Lily and Luna from my Hellsing fic 'Double Trouble' were actually born premature like quite a few twins are, so I feel like Alucard and Seras are a lot more subconsciously overprotective of them as a result. I'm pretty sure most stuff regarding my Miraculous Ladybug fanfics have already been posted and talked about my my blog.

What's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

A lot of my dream themes and plots for fics are fics that are already currently being written and just haven't been updated in a while lol. But my current favourite authors of these do include: @lycorogue, Oxford Not Brogues, little corbin, @pinkfluffacttuff, and Deathwish_Nine.

Add 50 words to your current WIP and share your paragraph here.

“Again, I offer you a choice, Seras Victoria,” the older vampire continued, not even blinking as he stared intensely into Seras’ eyes.

“Will you follow me out into the night?”

Seras already knew her answer, but there were still questions burning at the back of her mind.

I kinda cheated and just took a 50 word snippet because I'm too tired to add things to it right now, sorry.

Thanks again for playing the ask game with me!

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: I Think I Like You (Maybe More Than I Should)

For @mostlovedgirl-writes

A companion story for her work Ha! You Think That’s Embarrassing? 

MLG, I warned you that you sparked something! What's worse is that I had this story done on May 14th, and it just kept me this long to sort out what to title the darn thing! 😅[smile with sweat emoji]

The Aged-Up AU that MLG created for her MariChat May ficlet was just too enticing for me to leave alone, so, naturally, I nearly quintupled her story as I retold the same tale but from Adrien's POV.

Why do stories keep running away from me like this!?

I want to send so many extra kudos and just general love MLG's way. I barely wrote anything the past two years. Because of MLG, I have now written my SECOND 7000+ word story in a month (the 1st story wasn't due to MLG, but still...)!

Also, I had I Think I Like You by The Band CAMINO on a constant loop while writing this story (which is how I finally landed on a title). So, if you want some mood music, I'd suggest using that.

Summary: Adrien is intrigued by one of the junior designers at his father's company. Maybe more intrigued than a few passing interactions with Marinette would warrant. At least, that's what Plagg jokes when Adrien notices Marinette on an abysmal date and decides to intervene... as Chat Noir. **An AU where Adrien and Marinette (as their civilian selves) never met as teens** Rating: General Audience (does contain the word "shit" once) Word Count: 7,974 Estimated Read Time: 40min Status: completed one-shot Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

I Think I Like You (Maybe More Than I Should)

Adrien's brain began fogging over. He knew he was the face of the Gabriel brand, but did his father truly need him to sit in on every partnership meeting? He was little more than a fancy doll paraded out to lock in a new deal. Especially when he wasn't allowed to add any actual input.

Just smile. Say some pleasantries about wanting to work with them. Talk up the brand. Look pretty and professional.

It was a relief to see Nathalie stand up. It was Adrien's signal that his part of the meeting was finally over. He stood up as well, shook hands with the shoe execs that Gabriel was partnering with for the fall line, and practically sprinted out of the door as Nathalie passed out the contracts for the execs to sign.

He should have known better than to exit the room backwards so he could get in one last wave and thank you to their guests. In fairness, though, he didn't expect the hall to have traffic.

“Whoa!” The woman Adrien rudely collided into cried out as she flailed to try to catch her balance.

With his Chat-Noir-trained reflexes, Adrien swung his arm out to catch the woman around the waist. He gently tugged her back up onto her feet, but he didn't calculate her already throwing herself back into balance. She tilted the opposite direction, and Adrien ended up dipping her; his other hand supporting her shoulders – and her hands reflexively grabbing onto his – as her momentum finally stopped.

“Easy there!” He nervously laughed. Of course, he would collide with one of his father's employees as he tried to escape one of his father's meetings. He was sure he'd never hear the end of this.

“A-Adrien?” The woman squeaked in a panic. “I-I mean, Mr. Agreste?”

Her large eyes shined like blue zircon gemstones. Her strawberry-pink lips were partially parted in shock. Her raven hair dangled like a curtain behind her as Adrien held her in the dip. She was adorable. She also looked so familiar to him. Those eyes, in particular.

Agreste! Wake up! Realizing that his father's employee was still leaning awkwardly against his arm, Adrien cleared his throat and lifted the woman back onto her feet. He held her elbows to help steady her. Once he was confident that she wasn't going to fall, he took a step back and hoped his blush wasn't as visible as it felt as it burnt his cheeks.

“Adrien's fine. I'm not really into formalities, if I'm honest. Are you okay? Sorry about colliding into you like that.”

“N-no! That's alright. I'm fine. I should have been paying attention as well.”

Now that they weren't inches from each other, the woman started to shrink into herself. She couldn't keep eye contact with him and fidgeted. Her foot rubbed the back of the opposite leg and her arms flailed about as she talked. Seeing her so nervous definitely brought about a familiarity, and a name bobbed to the surface of Adrien's memory.

“Marinette, right? You're one of the junior designers?”

She squeaked with a start. “You-you know who I am?”

Adrien laughed. “Well, yeah. You fitted me for a few outfits for the spring line, didn't you?”

Marinette blushed. “Mm-hmm. The casual evening wear line.”

“That's the one!” Adrien snapped with acknowledgment. “Were any of those pieces yours?”

“Mine?” Marinette flailed her hands in front of her again. “No! I'm not nearly– I mean, my work isn't quite– I'm not ready for that. I-I did help with the color selection though.”

“Well, that's quite the accomplishment in and of itself. I think those were some of the most fun outfits I've worn in a while, and it was largely due to how bright the colors were. Really shook up all of those bland whites and blacks and tans menswear tends to fall into. You know?”

Marinette nodded like she was a freshly bopped bobblehead. Adrien struggled to not laugh at how adorable she was.

“Oh! I'm sorry. I'm holding you up!” Marinette's eyes again flew wide and her blush deepened. “And I need to take these– Oh no! The sketches!” Marinette stared at her hands, suddenly realizing they were empty. The sketches she was carrying before Adrien ran into her were carpeting the floor.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Adrien leaned down to help scoop up the papers, this time keeping an eye on the door to make sure they didn't end up tripping Nathalie and the execs as they left the conference room.

“No, that's alright. I have it.”

“I'm the reason they got scattered all over the floor in the first place. It's no problem. Really.”

As they scrambled to scoop up the papers – Adrien focused on the conference room door and Marinette focused on anything but Adrien – they bonked heads.

“Oof! Sorry. I seem to just keep running into you today.” Adrien sheepishly laughed.

“No-no. That was on me this time.” An awkward, lopsided smile spread across Marinette's lips as she gathered the last of the sketches.

They both stood, and Adrien held out the papers he had picked up. “We really need to find a better way to run into each other. Preferably one where we don't do so literally.”

“I love you,” she swooned. “That!” she quickly corrected. Her blush deepened. “I'd love that. The not running into you part. I mean, no! Not that part. I love running into you. Not literally though. That part. But I don't love running into you. It's not like I purposefully position myself so that I have an excuse to interact with you. That would be weird and stalker-y and I definitely don't do that. I mean why did I even put that out there? Now you think that's exactly what I do, but I swear I don't. I just–”

Adrien softened as he listened to Marinette. There was something about her rambling that was equal parts confusing and endearing. He cocked his head to the side while waiting for her to get to the point.

“You're so nice,” she continued at that same frantic pace. Her papers slid out of her arms due to the uneven pressure she was putting on them. She juggled them a bit as her mouth kept going. “You don't have to be nice. Everyone would probably expect you to not be nice. Not not-nice. I mean, indifferent? But you're not. You're super nice. I mean, you put in the effort to remember my name. Plus, you didn't need to help me with these.” She held up her uneven pile of papers. “And you're standing here listening to me going on-and-on and good grief why am I still talking? I'm holding you up and I really need to get going as well and yet I just can't seem to stop talking. I'm so embarrassing. But you're still here listening to me, because you're so sweet and I just want to spend all night talking to you. And it seems like maybe you'd be willing? So, maybe we could go and grab dinner tonight after work or something?”

Marinette stopped with a gasp as she tried to refill her empty lungs.

Adrien politely chuckled. “You good?”

Marinette's blush quickly drained as the woman went pale as a ghost. Her eyes bugged out and her mouth slacked.

“I did not just do that!”

“Hmm?” Adrien cocked his head. His mind still frantically trying to sort through the word-vomit Marinette just spat up all over him.

She started backing away from him. “Ignore everything I just said. I don't want to date you. Not that I wouldn't date you if you wanted. Actually, no! You wouldn't– I mean I wouldn't– I mean I'm so sorry. My bad. I just remembered that I already have a date with someone else tonight. A very nice date. One that I've been looking forward to. With someone not you. So clearly I'm not waiting to go on a date with you. Because I have a date with someone else. Tonight! Definitely already have a date tonight. Sorry. Gotta go!” Then she sprinted down the hall.

There was a commotion behind Adrien and the conference door opened. Adrien mindlessly stepped out of the way as the execs filed out of the room, followed by Nathalie.

“Adrien?” she asked. “What are you still doing here? Something wrong?”

Adrien didn't register Nathalie talking to him. He looked through her and down the hall where Marinette had sprinted. His mind finally sorting through what happened.

“Did she just ask me out?”

“Huh? Who? Who asked you out?” Nathalie looked over her shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry. Never mind. It's nothing.”

Nathalie frowned. “I have to escort our guests out, but we'll talk about this later. You know how your father feels about you dating.”

Adrien waved Nathalie off and walked in the direction Marinette had sprinted.

The woman was quick! Adrien couldn't have lagged that far behind, but he couldn't find her anywhere. He couldn't even determine which office she was aiming for.

He tried looking for her office. Turned out that she was still too entry-level to have her own. With some effort – it was hard trying to bluff his way around the “why do you need Marinette?” question – he managed to sort out where her work desk was. She wasn't there either.

“What's the big deal with this girl?” Plagg poked his head out from behind Adrien's blazer. “Can't you just wait until the next time you just naturally see each other?”

Adrien scanned the hall to make sure they were alone. “Plagg,” he hissed, “You know you can't come out of hiding while I'm not in my office at work! It's too easy for you to get caught.”

“Pfft. We're fine. Believe me. I take way more notice of who's around us than you seem to, Mr. Literally-runs-into-somebody-twice.”

Adrien simply shook his head at his kwami.

“But, seriously. Don't you have anything better to do than try to track her down?”

“Probably, but I don't care. I need to talk to her again.”

“Why?”

Adrien stopped.

“I... don't really know. She intrigues me, and I guess I do kind of want to take her up on that date invite. Just so I can get to learn more about her. And she seemed so nervous around me. I need to check in with her. Make sure she's okay and that the two of us are good.”

“I'm sure that's all this is.” Plagg cocked an eyebrow before zipping back into hiding.

Adrien heaved his exasperation with Plagg's interrogation before continuing down the hallway. Maybe if he grabbed a treat from the breakroom to appease his kwami Plagg wouldn't tease him further.

“Okay, I'll meet you at Bastian's tonight at eight.”

Ladybug?

Adrien nearly sprinted towards the dominant voice. When he popped his head through the breakroom door, however, he instead spotted the same loose, medium-length, raven hair that had draped down his arm nearly an hour before. After all of her stammering around him, Adrien didn't recognize Marinette's more confident tone as hers.

She had both hands firmly planted on a table, her back towards the door. A thirty-something-year-old man with wire-rimmed glasses not properly shaped for his round face, a god-awful pencil mustache, and mousy-brown hair slicked back with far too much product sat across from Marinette. The man's basic white button-down shirt wasn't even properly ironed. Adrien was clear across the room and he could still see the wrinkles lining the man's sleeves. The man's tie was also a basic black and horribly dated. Adrien wondered if he had bought it for a school dance as a teen and just never replaced it.

“My reservation is actually for 7:30.” The man shrugged. “I prefer to not eat too late into the evening. I get heartburn then.”

“Okay. Fine.” Marinette's shoulders slumped a little.

“And don't forget to dress up nice. None of–” The man gestured to Marinette's lovely pastel pink capped-sleeve blouse and flowy cement-gray knee-length skirt adorned with cherry blossoms. “–this. I want Date Night not Office Space.”

Adrien scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Well, yeah. Of course.” Marinette backed away from the table and rubbed her elbow nervously.

With a huff, Adrien stormed away from the breakroom.

Seriously? Him? What does Marinette even see in him?

“I didn't even realize Marinette had a thing for Jules.”

Adrien pivoted at the mention of Marinette. A man and woman walked out of the breakroom, gossiping with each other.

“Have they even talked to each other before today?”

“If they have, then Marinette's a miracle worker for getting a word in edge-wise against the Jabberwocky.”

“She's pretty meek. Maybe she prefers being talked at.”

“Well, here's hoping she's also a masochist, because those are the only ones who could possibly enjoy the mental agony of interacting with that guy.”

The two workers laughed as they approached Adrien.

“Oh!” The female worker jumped slightly upon noticing him. “Mr. Agreste. What a pleasure to see you. What are you doing on the third floor? Something we can assist with?”

“No. Sorry.” Adrien put on his patented Model Smile(TM) as he scratched the back of his head. “I was just getting my steps in.” He held up his wrist to show off his fancy watch. It didn't register his steps, but he hoped it looked high-tech enough that they wouldn't notice. “I should probably head back to my office, though. Carry on.”

With a wave, he made a bee-line back to his office on the twelfth floor.

“Huh. I would not have guessed that guy was Marinette's type.” Plagg floated back out from Adrien's blazer and drifted over to the mini-fridge Adrien had put into his office.

Adrien plopped into a plush club chair he kept in the corner of the room. “Me neither. What does she see in him? For someone so fashion-forward and quirky and adorable–?”

“Maybe this is a case of opposites attract?”

“He sounded so rude towards her, didn't he? And then those employees joking about his endless talking and how painful it is to just interact with him? Does Marinette see something in him that no one else does?”

“Marinette seemed to be a bit of a motor-mouth herself.”

“Yeah, but hers was different.”

“How so?”

“It just... was. Okay?”

Plagg shrugged and gobbled down a large slice of Camembert. “Ah, to be a fly on the wall during that date.” He laughed. “If that woman could handle the– what did those guys call him? Jabberwocky? I like that. If Marinette could slay the Jabberwocky I wish I could be there to see that. Oh! Or the two of them just rambling at each other; holding two different conversations? Either way, get me the popcorn.”

“I am curious. Maybe it isn't as bad as it seemed in the few seconds that I caught. Their interactions, I mean.”

“If you say so.”

“Yeah. I'm sure there's something there that we don't know. Marinette wouldn't go on a date as awful as I'm thinking.”

“How could you know that? You barely know the girl.”

“That is true.” Adrien hung his head in his hands. Why was he even so fixated on this? Plagg was right. He only really knew Marinette in passing. It was none of his business. Even if it was a bad date, so what? Everyone has had terrible dates that they've suffered through.

Ones that they wished they could pull a rip-cord on.

That maybe they didn't have an escape plan for, but wished they did.

Marinette's gemstone eyes flitted into Adrien's mind.

He whipped out his phone and looked up the number for Bastian's.

“Hello? Yes. This is Adrien Agreste. Yes, that Adrien Agreste. I was wondering if you had an opening for a solo-diner tonight? I was hoping for around 7:20? Oh, no. A VIP table isn't necessary at all. Public dining is perfect. Fantastic. See you then. Thank you.”

Adrien turned from Plagg's knowing look. “What?” he asked his kwami, “I heard that Bastian's has a delicious salmon risotto.”

--------------

The quality of the salmon risotto was highly exaggerated.

It wasn't bad. It was a textbook execution of the dish, worthy of high marks at any culinary school. The flavoring was just a bit bland despite the chef clearly being a bit heavy-handed with the butter.

That didn't really matter though. Adrien wasn't particularly hungry anyway.

His stomach felt heavy and the back of his brain was itchy. He had no clue what he was doing there. The whole thing was insane.

It hit him all at once the moment he caught a glimpse of Marinette's raven hair coming around the corner behind the hostess. He realized that he had no excuse to be at this mid-grade (at best) restaurant. Not the same one that she just-so-happened to have a reservation for. And not at the same time as the aforementioned reservation. Definitely not while also eating alone!

I can't let her catch me here!

Adrien quickly pivoted to a different seat at his table so his back was towards her. As discretely as possible, he slid his meal over to his new spot. He then shrugged his sweater a little higher up the back of his neck and shagged his hair slightly. Similar to how he used to wear it when he was a teen. With any luck, she wouldn't recognize him.

He felt Plagg snake his way around his back and down to Adrien's hip. Plagg then phased his head through the sweater. “Plagg!” Adrien hissed under his breath.

“Calm down,” Plagg whispered back. “No one looks at someone else's hips. I just want to see this disaster.”

“No,” Adrien intoned, trying to not move his lips too much and get caught talking to 'himself'. “We're not spying on Marinette and her date. I'm sure it will be fine.” He poked some more at his risotto and wondered how bad it would look if he just downed it as fast as possible so he could escape.

“You're no fun,” Plagg huffed, but he didn't bother to retreat into the sweater.

Despite himself, as Adrien worked his way through his dinner, he attuned his ears to Marinette's table. His hearing wasn't as keen as it would have been if he was Chat Noir, but, over the years, he had trained his senses to be a bit more sensitive than usual, even out of costume.

Training his sense of touch was probably a poor decision, though. Especially with how many hands roam his body between fittings and shoots and quick-changes....

It seemed to work in his favor that night though. The entire meal, he barely heard Marinette say five words – outside of ordering her steak with the waiter – but Adrien could not get away from her date's dreary voice. Marinette's coworkers were right, however, and the woman was always more on the meek, non-confrontational side anyway. It was possible that she was somehow enjoying the endless conversation. Except, Adrien's sort of sixth sense – due to his heightened touch sensitivity – made him acutely aware of Marinette's discomfort.

Well, it was either the sixth sense thing or Plagg's wincing at Adrien's hip.

Despite warnings about cats and curiosity, Adrien couldn't help himself. He nudged his way around the table again. Shimmying closer and closer to his original chair before smoothly shifting to it and pushing his other chair back into place. Then he slid his half-eaten bowl back in front of him. Then the glass of wine.

He refused to keep going so he was full-on facing Marinette, but he could at least keep an eye on her in his peripheral now. He didn't like what he saw.

Her back was tight and tall. Her shoulders raised towards her ears. Her upper arms were flexed as she fidgeted with something under the table. A miasma of irritation seemed to radiate from her, and Adrien wondered if she was going to literally try to slay the Jabberwocky. Did this restaurant somehow have vorpal knives?

Adrien desperately wanted to just intervene. He wasn't sure at this point if doing so would be rescuing Marinette from her date or the other way around.

“And that was how my third marriage ended,” Jules monotoned across from Marinette.

How is that guy so loud? I get the masochism comment now, Adrien thought.

As Marinette filled her side of the conversation with yet another sip of water she started to take in the restaurant around her. In a flash, Adrien was laser-focused on the last bites of his risotto.

Please, don't let her see me, he mentally chanted, subtly shifting his head so he was turned away from her. If she catches me here I'm done for!

Right. He had no plausible reason to be at the same restaurant as her at the same time as her and right after she told him she had a date tonight. He'd be outed as a stalker or something! His father would throw him into lock-down if that ever got out! And, considering how recognizable he was, there was no way the other patrons wouldn't videotape him interrupting a woman's date and probably getting called an obsessive creep by that same woman.

Marinette had walked back – well, black-hole-absorbed back – her date invite to Adrien specifically so she could still come here with Jules. She must have had a reason to prefer the Jabberwocky's company. Maybe Adrien somehow offended her when they collided earlier. Maybe she had gotten in trouble after being late with those sketches. Maybe she didn't want anything to do with Adrien Agreste anymore. Wouldn't be a good look to ride in and try to White Knight for Marinette then. He didn't want to seem possessive of her.

His risotto finally done, he gently reached out to a passing waiter and requested the check.

“This is great,” Plagg whispered from his watch party at Adrien's hip still. “She's just gazing out the window now; not even looking at the guy. And he's still talking! I think he just likes the sound of his own voice.”

“That's hard to imagine,” Adrien intoned.

He thanked the waiter for the check, and quickly handed him in his payment. After confirming that the waiter was also assisting Marinette's table, Adrien included a nearly fifty-percent tip in hopes that it would help compensate for having to deal with Marinette's date. Meal consumed and paid for, Adrien placed his napkin on the table and stood to leave.

“Aww.” Plagg snaked back around to Adrien's chest just under his cable-knit sweater. “The train wreck isn't over yet.”

“Oh, yes it is.”

“Adrien?” Plagg warned. Adrien quickly shushed him.

He walked past Marinette's table as fast as possible while still looking nonchalant. He again prayed that she wouldn't notice him there.

“So, last year I went snorkeling with...”

Adrien struggled to not roll his eyes and scream at Jules to just shut up already as he caught the man still droning on at poor Marinette.

Just look forward. Don't react. Get out of here before she notices you! he ordered himself.

Adrien got to the front of the restaurant with no incident. He heaved a relieved sigh, thanked the wait staff and the hostess, and headed out the door. Fighting against his desire to full-tilt sprint, he casually followed the sidewalk along the front of the building. As soon as he reached the small alley between the restaurant and the neighboring building, however, he dashed into its welcoming shadows.

“Adrien?” Plagg asked with a challenging tone, “What are you planning? Nothing stupid, I hope.”

“Oh. It most definitely is. Plagg-”

“Adrien! Don't! You can't use your powers for personal gain, remember?” Plagg rattled off in a panic.

“What personal gain? Chat Noir is a hero, isn't he? And I'm rescuing Marinette. It's all on the up-and-up.”

“Adrien!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

“Adrien, no!” Plagg got sucked into Adrien's ring before he could fight his holder any further. In an instant, Chat Noir stood where Adrien was a moment before.

“Now, let's go rescue a citizen.”

Chat Noir puffed out his chest and casually walked back into Bastian's. He gave the hostess a salute as he walked past her. “Not dining today,” he called over his shoulder, “Just need to do a quick pop-in. Don't mind me.”

As he passed by the tables within the dining room the patrons all started to mutter among themselves about him.

“No need to panic,” he reassured them. “Paris is safe. Go back to your meals.”

It was too late. The restaurant was already abuzz and everyone was too focused on him to even think about their food anymore.

The only one unfazed by Chat Noir's presence was none other than Marinette's lout of a date.

Marinette, on the other hand, stared up at Chat Noir with those shining blue zircon eyes that had captured him earlier that day.

“Hello, Miss,” Chat Noir greeted. He rested one hand on the back of Marinette's chair, and the other he balled up before resting it on his hip. It took imagining Ladybug's disappointed scowl to keep him from using his balled fist to punch out Marinette's date.

“Buh-blah-uh?” Marinette blabbered in shock.

Chat Noir struggled to not smirk at how cute even Marinette blue-screening was. “Pardon my rudeness, but could I borrow you for a moment? Won't take but a sec.” He then winked at her to let her know that he understood her situation; he was there as her out.

Clearly still blue-screened, Marinette slowly pivoted her head back towards her date. Jules did not look impressed that a superhero was currently standing at their table.

“Excuse me,” Jules grunted, “but you're interrupting our date.”

Marinette slowly pivoted her head back towards Chat Noir, awaiting his response.

Chat Noir turned to regard the boorish man. It was so ironic to Chat Noir that this other man was complaining about interrupting dates. Him! He was the one who was interrupting so many dates within that restaurant with his loud droning. Let alone his prevention of Adrien's date with Marinette that night. Besides, how did he not notice that Marinette was desperate for someone to interrupt the date?

Taking a long, soothing breath, Chat Noir stood straight, his hand no longer resting on Marinette's chair. Once again breaking out his Model Smile(TM), Chat Noir relaxed his body in an attempt to disarm.

“Oh, right,” he said with a thick layer of honey in his voice. “Sorry about that. Interrupting a date is so annoying. I totally get that.”

Like a skilled magician, Chat Noir distracted from his hands with his winning smile. Meanwhile, his left hand scooped up Marinette's right.

“Let me just get out of your way,” Chat Noir finished with a coo. In a flash, he tugged on Marinette's hand, spinning her out of her chair and into his arms. After catching her in his arms earlier, it was a welcome return to feel her weight against him again.

Marinette was still stun-locked. Her only acknowledgment of what just happened was the rosy coloring flooding her cheeks.

Shifting his arm so it was draped around Marinette's shoulder, he confirmed that she had her purse on her. Chat Noir then gave Marinette's former date a two-finger salute before escorting Marinette out of the restaurant. Once they were outside, he detached his stick from his back. In one, smooth, solid motion, he scooped Marinette up into a bridal carry while extending his stick to vault up onto the nearest roof.

Upon landing, he shifted her slightly so he could reattach his weapon to his back before again lifting her into a bridal carry. A moment later, they were off. He wasn't sure where he was going. He just let his feet lead him. All he knew was that he couldn't be anywhere near that restaurant or that oaf of a date.

With the same ease as a leisurely jog around a track, Chat Noir ran across the rooftops of Paris with Marinette in his arms. He leapt across the gaps between buildings as if he was hopping over puddles to avoid getting his shoes wet. He felt so free and the weight of Marinette in his arms renewed his energy.

As they neared the Seine, Chat Noir stopped within a rooftop garden. It was a gorgeous view, between the flowers, the lights reflecting off the river, and a cozy-looking garden bench tucked within the flora.

Chat Noir gently rested Marinette back on her feet, holding her hands to support her while she regained her bearings.

“You okay, Miss?”

“Uh...” She blinked at him. Her face shifted between confusion, relief, shock, and frustration as if those emotions were on shuffle play. She finally settled on stupefied. “I'm sorry. What just happened?”

She was too cute. Chat Noir couldn't help himself. He chuckled. “I think I just rescued you from the world's worst date.”

Marinette cringed and moaned in embarrassment. “Believe it or not, I've had worse.”

She circled around Chat Noir, studying him. It unnerved him slightly, but he tried to not let it show. He reminded himself that there was no way that she'd know that he was Adrien Agreste.

“But why me?” she asked. “You don't even know me.”

Chat Noir pursed his lips. He was not expecting that question. Why wasn't he expecting that question?

“Let's just say–” his mind raced for a suitable answer. He rocked back and forth on his heels. “–I know a guy who asked me for a favor.”

Ha! Perfect! Vague but plausible.

Marinette's face fell and her shoulders slacked. “Oh, my gosh,” she whispered, more to herself than to Chat Noir. “You know Adrien Agreste.” Her eyes darted up to meet Chat Noir's. “He contacted you somehow, didn't he?”

Shit!

Marinette must have spotted Adrien in the restaurant after all. He was never going to live this down! With any luck – of which he was sure he had virtually none – his mask would at least hide the blush burning his cheeks. He broke eye contact with Marinette and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “What makes you think that?”

With a groan, Marinette fell onto the bench nestled between the flower boxes. She buried her face in her hands, muttering “no, no, no, no” into her palms. She then let out another whimpering groan.

“Hey. Are... you okay?” Chat Noir sat beside her. With a moment of hesitation, nervous that he was the source of her woes, he tentatively placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“I can't believe Adrien saw me on that awful date.”

Oh, good. He was the source of her woes. Excellent.

Chat Noir choked down his own whimpering groan.

“I'm so embarrassed,” Marinette continued.

Chat Noir tilted his head in confusion. Why was Marinette embarrassed? She caught her boss's son basically stalking her. He'd understand her being angry or feeling violated, but embarrassed?

“I feel like I'm missing something. So, what's the story?”

“It's a long one,” Marinette grumbled. She dropped her hands to her lap and rested her head against the back of the bench, gazing up at the starless sky.

Chat Noir smirked. He'd love a long story from Marinette.

“I'm all ears.” He willed the false cat ears atop his head to twitch and wiggle.

Marinette laughed. It was the loveliest sound Chat Noir could recall hearing. He melted a little as he settled in next to her, readying himself for Story Time.

She took a deep breath to steel herself and heaved out a heavy sigh. “There's this guy at work – tall, blond, sweet, and so handsome I melt into the floor every time I see him.”

Chat Noir hoped Marinette didn't hear him gulp his heart back into his chest.

“He even smells amazing,” she whined with yearning.

Chat Noir fought the urge to sniff himself that very instant, and the follow-up urge to wiggle closer to Marinette so she could perchance catch a whiff. Which one of them was downwind? Why wasn't there any wind right now?

Clearing his throat slightly, Chat Noir teased, “Okay, so you know Adrien from work.” He gestured as if offering the right of way to Marinette. “Go on.”

Marinette glared up at him with a little pout. It was adorable, but still sent a chill down Chat Noir's spine. It felt familiar somehow. As if he'd faced That Look at least a dozen times before.

“I never said it was Adrien.”

Oh. This is going to be fun, Chat Noir thought as he fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He dramatically crossed one leg over the other, then rested his chin in his hand. His other hand casually draped across his thigh. With a wisp in his voice, Chat Noir asked, “Oh? So, who is mister tall, fair, and handsome?”

Marinette flushed with embarrassment. She whipped away from Chat Noir's playful gaze, instead focusing on her thumbnails as she picked at them. “It doesn't matter!”

“Mm-hmm,” Chat Noir challenged.

Marinette shifted in her seat, rolling her shoulders before again gazing up at the sky. “Anyway, this guy from work, I've...” She cautiously glanced back over at Chat Noir as she bit down on her thumbnail.

He straightened, relaxing both hands to seem more sincere. The shift in posture appeared to have put Marinette more at ease. She stopped biting on her nail, lowering her hand back to her lap.

“I've had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him for the longest time.” She slammed the back of her head against the back of the bench. She screwed her eyes shut and whimpered a little before continuing. “I ran into him in the hall earlier today–”

Literally, and the other way around, Chat Noir thought with an embarrassed chuckle.

“–and in a fit of complete insanity I asked him out.”

A warm wave washed over Chat Noir. The confirmation that she had meant to extend the invitation made his heart skip in a way he wasn't expecting.

“Doesn't sound so bad.” Chat Noir hoped his glee didn't spill over into his voice. He had to remain neutral and detached from the situation. Neutral and Detached. Neutral. And. Detached.

“But then I realized what I had done,” she continued, “I got all flustered and started babbling, said, 'Sorry, my bad. I just remembered that I have a date with someone else tonight,' and ran away.” She glanced back over at Chat Noir and gestured as if to say, “ta-da! I'm an idiot!”

Chat Noir bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from laughing. It really was a ridiculous situation, now that Marinette laid it out so plainly. How could she be so cute and yet so insecure?

“And why did you do that?”

“Because,” she whined, “he's Adrien Agreste!” She threw her hands out, gesturing to the sky in desperation. “Not only is he France's top model and so far out of my league that I can't even see his league without a telescope, but also–” She violently shook her hands out in front of her, as if she were mentally shaking sense into herself. “He's my boss's son! I can't even begin to fathom how inappropriate asking him out like that was.” She screamed out her embarrassment before hiding behind her hands again. “I panicked and ran,” she finished softly.

Chat Noir wanted to pull her in for a hug so bad. The poor thing! He was right. She had meant to ask him out, and just revoked the offer because she got nervous.

How on Earth did that Jules guy get involved then?

“So,” Chat Noir drew out the word as he tried to sort out a non-judgmental way to ask, “after asking out the guy you wanted to go out with, how did you end up on a date with that other guy?”

“Ugh, it's so embarrassing.” Her chest heaved in mock sobs. “I was still panicking and wasn't thinking straight, and I heard that guy – I think he's from accounting or something – say that his date for tonight had fallen through.”

Gee, I wonder why.... Chat Noir mentally rolled his eyes.

“I didn't want Adrien to think that I had lied to him about having a date already–”

“Which you had,” Chat Noir teasingly pointed out.

“–so I asked him out. Right there in the breakroom. In front of all of my coworkers!”

Chat Noir pursed his lips as he choked down a laugh. When that wasn't enough he clapped a hand over his mouth to try to better hide his amusement. Now was not the time to laugh about how unhinged the whole situation was. That would be the last thing Marinette would need when she was already having a rough time with it.

Marinette again cradled her head in her hands. “You can go ahead and laugh. I deserve it. I'm such a loser.”

Okay. Definitely not the time to laugh.

“Nah, you're not a loser.” He gently elbowed her to try to catch her attention. “Delightfully awkward, but not a loser.”

“I'm going to have to quit my job and move to America, and start designing ready-to-wear for a department store,” she moaned into her hands.

Chat Noir knew that very sentiment painfully well. “A valid career path, but why are you moving an ocean away?”

Marinette sunk further onto the bench, bending nearly in half as she hid within her hands. “I'll never be able to show my face at Gabriel or any other fashion house in Paris again.”

“I don't think it's as bad as all that. Sure, you had one embarrassing day at work, but who hasn't?”

Marinette scoffed.

“Even Adrien has embarrassed himself in public,” Chat Noir ventured.

Marinette stilled for a heartbeat. Slowly, she sat up a little straighter and peeked out from behind her hands. “Really? But he's so perfect.”

“Pfft. Hardly!” Chat Noir dismissively waved off the very idea. He then draped an arm along the back of the bench and recrossed his legs.

Marinette studied him. Those zircon eyes flickered between pleading to be reassured and questioning if Chat Noir was simply jealous of Adrien.

The woman had been through the wringer that day, and had already suffered enough simply by going on a date with the Jabberwocky. Chat Noir wasn't sure why, but he trusted that Marinette would never weaponize someone else's embarrassment. It was time to break out the big guns.

Chat Noir nonchalantly shrugged. “His first modeling job after lycée, he had a horrible cold. Someone offered him one of those vitamin-C tablets that you're supposed to dissolve in a cup of hot water before drinking. Oblivious kid that he was, he put the tablet in his mouth and drank a cup of warm water.”

He shuddered remembering the next part. The vile taste returned to his mouth through recollection alone.

Marinette's eyes widened. Her mouth formed into an astonished 'o' and she slowly covered her silent gasp with her hand. She was getting ahead of his story.

Chat Noir nodded that she was on the right track. “The tablet started dissolving in his mouth and foaming over everything. It got all over his clothes; the furniture; the floor. It was like he had rabies! Everyone started laughing and calling him 'Atomic Blond'. He was so embarrassed that he vowed to move to New Zealand and become a sheep herder.”

“Oh, no!” Marinette laughed; breathy, secondhand-embarrassed, sympathetic laughs. Chat Noir could practically hear her thinking 'poor thing'. “How have I not heard that story before?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “His dad worked his PR magic and covered it up.”

More like Nathalie worked her magic, but to-may-to to-mah-to.

Marinette arched an eyebrow. “How do you know about it?”

“Sorry. That's a trade secret.” He pressed a finger to his lips and winked.

Marinette sighed. Getting off the bench, she gently stroked the flower petals as she passed by them. She wove her way through the lush garden and wandered over to the railing lining the roof. With a deep breath, she took in their gorgeous city. Her shoulders were relaxed. Her one foot was hooked around her other ankle, but she wasn't fidgety. She was the most calm and at peace that Chat Noir remembered ever seeing her.

“Thank you, Chat Noir.” She turned back towards him and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear. “I'm glad I won't have to move to another continent.”

Chat Noir joined her by the railing. “Decided to stay?”

Marinette puffed out her chest and stood tall. “If Adrien can still show his face at work after a day like that, then so can I.” A breath later, she puckered her lips and her bravado washed away. “I'll just make sure to stay in the basement where he'll never see me again.”

Chat Noir knew he definitely couldn't allow that to happen.

[break]

Their evening was over too soon. It wasn't the date Adrien pictured for the 2.5 seconds he had to process before Marinette had revoked her offer, but it was still a mostly-lovely evening with the intriguing woman. As Adrien got ready for bed, he already knew it was going to be a struggle to get his mind to stop thinking about Marinette long enough to fall asleep.

That was, at least, until he caught the evening news. Amateur photos and videos of Chat Noir in Bastian's confronting a patron and spiriting a citizen away flooded his TV.

“Oh, no!”

“And this is why we don't use our powers for personal gain,” Plagg said as he floated by, not prepared to give more of a lecture than that single sentence.

Adrien faceplanted into his pillows and screamed. “Ladybug is going to kill me!”

“There's always sheep herding in New Zealand.”

“Not. Helpful. Plagg.”

“Didn't realize you were expecting helpful,” Plagg teased.

Somehow, Plagg's snarkiness did help. Adrien chuckled.

“Do you think I at least helped Marinette tonight, Plagg?”

“Maybe.”

“Is it weird that I almost wish I had told her the vitamin-C story as Adrien? Have a real bonding moment between us? Maybe she'd be less nervous around me then.”

“I find it hard to believe that she could ever to be nervous around you now anyway, Mr. Atomic Blond.”

“You know, I don't think I'd mind if she called me that.” He chuckled at the thought.

--------------

The tick of the wall clock tormented Adrien as he sat through a seemingly endless morning meeting. He had always hated these meetings, but it was extra agonizing that morning. Marinette was in that very building at that very moment. But she wasn't in that room.

Adrien rapidly tapped his foot while he focused the rest of his energy on keeping the remainder of his body painfully still. He had no recollection of any words that were said for the past twenty minutes. He couldn't describe a single slide shown explaining the company's growth.

He needed out of this conference room. He was going feral.

Finally, the meeting broke, and Adrien was free.

He didn't bother with the elevator. He couldn't be trapped somewhere again. Besides, he could move faster on the stairs. Especially when he only took every third step and swung himself around each landing (saving him another 5 steps or so per floor).

He bee-lined it to Marinette's work desk. Just like the day before, she wasn't there. Adrien began wondering if he even had the right desk.

“I'll just make sure to stay in the basement where he'll never see me again.”

Adrien knew where to find Marinette!

He didn't care who caught him this time, he sprinted down the four flights of stairs to the basement. As he exited onto the floor he took a moment to even his quickened breaths. He wasn't sure if they were from the sprint or the anticipation of seeing Marinette again. Either way, he couldn't see Marinette while panting. Like that was the right impression to give!

His breaths once again steady, he checked that his clothes were neat and straight, and his hair was in place.

Perfect.

Now to just oh-so-casually bump (not literally) into Marinette.

The first few rooms he checked were empty. He wondered if maybe Marinette wasn't hiding. Did she take a personal day? She didn't actually move to America, right?

Then he heard muttering within the sample fabrics. His heart fluttered. He had found her.

Her back was again towards the door when he poked his head in. She had an armful of fabrics, and was holding up a sea foam swatch against a pastel teal one, trying to decide which shade to go with.

Adrien leaned casually on the door jamb, hands in his pockets and his ankles crossed.

“Hi. Marinette, right?”

“Gah!” Marinette jumped as she spun around, dropping her fabrics as she pressed herself against the rack of silks behind her.

That didn't go as smoothly as he had planned.

Adrien pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them up non-threateningly. “Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Didn't you. I mean-I didn't. I mean-you didn't!” She pinched her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

Why was she so cute?

“Oh. That's good.” Why was he dragging out each word?

Come on, Agreste! he berated himself, You know she likes you! Why is this so hard?

It was probably because Adrien had never asked anyone out before. It had always been the other way around. Girls fawning for him. His father dictating who he should date to better improve the brand. That sort of thing.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you–” He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. What if Marinette just bolted again and YOLO-asked yet another coworker out simply to avoid Adrien? He needed to take his shot though. He could do this! “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Please say 'yes'. Please say 'yes.' Please say 'yes'.

Adrien wasn't sure he'd seen Marinette's eyes grow so large before.

“Uh– Bah– Bluh–?”

Adrien smiled. Throwback to when Chat Noir interrupted Marinette's atrocious date. The two of them seemed to have had a lovely evening after she did that stammering. Maybe this was a good-luck omen or something.

“Is that a yes?” he teased.

Marinette snapped her mouth shut and nodded.

Adrien chuckled. “Great! I know this wonderful little café by the river. What time do you get off for lunch?”

“Tw-tw-tw-tw–” Marinette pinched herself. “Twelve-thirty,” she gasped out.

Adrien checked his watch. It was half-past-eleven. He didn't have to wait too much longer. “Perfect. I'll come back for you in an hour.”

Glancing at the floor, he noticed that he again forced Marinette to drop what she was holding. He quickly scooped up the fabrics and passed them over to her. “See you later, Marinette.”

“Mm-hmm,” she intoned as she nodded. She held out her arms to accept the fabrics Adrien had gathered.

Pivoting on his heels, he gave her a quick wave over his shoulder and strode back out of the room, fighting the impulse to skip away.

He climbed every single stair leading up to his twelfth-floor office. He needed to get out the giddy energy, as well as find a way to kill the next sixty minutes. Even with Adrien pausing every couple of floors to do a mini tap-dance routine in the stairwell, he still only killed about eleven minutes.

The next forty-nine minutes were filled with endless twirls in his desk chair, memorizing the café's menu, non-stop ribbing from Plagg, and probably far more cartwheels than a twenty-something-year-old man should be doing in a business suit and within the confines of a corner office.

.

** Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you want me to tag you on any of my writing updates** @discoveringmiraculouswriters

[lycorogue]

I have 52 fics on AO3. My longest fic is over 84k words long. My average story length (taking out the 84k and >1k word outliers) is 6k. My median oneshot length is about 3k. My median chaptered story is about 30k.

I have an additional 8 stories on FFN that I never ported to AO3.

Every last one was exclusively written as an adult with a full-time job.

Honestly? It's the same as any hobby (such as adults lamenting their long To Play or To Read or To Watch or To Craft lists). If you prioritize it, then it's possible to write and work. Some people just have other priorities, and that's okay.

I am currently dealing with mental health issues, so socializing and consuming media to help alleviate that is my current priority. Which is why I only posted 3 stories this year (and nothing since June). When I was in a better headspace and could prioritize my writing? I was uploading a new fic monthly.

It also depends on the job. Some are mentally draining, and I can understand one's inspiration being tapped. Others thrive on that frustration and use their writing as an escape. I have done best with my current job, which has a lot of downtime. So I can write at work and/or have enough mental spoons left at the end of the day to curl up in a corner somewhere and write after work.

Point is, I get WHY OP's friend thinks the way they do, especially if they're a fellow writer frustrated at not finding time to write. But it IS 100% possible.

Reblog if you are employed / have a full time job and are a fanfic writer who still actively writes and posts new chapters / new works.

My friend says you can’t be an adult, have a full time job and be a fanfic writer at the same time, because you’ll have to sacrifice your writing, fandom activities, for your career. And I just… don’t think that’s the case? At all? Unless I’m missing something? Unless I’m doing it wrong by being employed and still writing fanfics?

[ao3feed-ladynoir]

Could Your Paradise Also Be Your Hell?

Could Your Paradise Also Be Your Hell? by LycoRogue

Marinette is not coping very well when she's magically transported into her older-self's body, and discovers she's now married to Adrien Agreste.

Words: 4488, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, where'd the fluff go?, Inspired by another fanfic, retelling of another fanfic's scene, Body Swap AU, body swapping with older self, Marinette Agreste, adrienette, Adrienette April, mostlovedgirl, Watching Someone Sleep

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30868304

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: Scott's List Item

Welcome to my foray into the Hailey's On It! fandom.

I thought of this story WAAAAAAY back in November and just kept sleeping on it. Buuuut then the finale aired and I KNEW I had to get this out into the world.

There were definitely some major tweaks that I had to do after getting some new info in the back half of the season. Then, after sorting all of that out, life got away from me and it kept me about a month to write this little story… followed by about 2 weeks of just trying to edit the darn thing.

But! Much like Hailey, I have to learn to give up control sometimes. So. I'm done editing. This story is yours now. I hope you enjoy it.

(also, please excuse the uninspired title. I tapped all of my creativity when I wrote the actual story. 😅)

Summary: When Hailey offers for them to try to cross off one of Scott's list items he knows exactly which one he wants to try. It's one that he's been itching to complete for a little while now. Hailey suspects a plot afoot, however, and her suspicions may implode the whole thing. **WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 1 FINALE** Rating: General Audience Word Count: 4,802 Estimated Read Time: 20min Status: completed one-shot Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

Scott's List Item

Hailey leapt into Scott's arms with a squeal. Her armband beeped and turned green.

"I did it, Scott! I can't believe it! I did it! Me!"

He swung her around to mitigate the momentum of her glomping him; keeping himself on his feet.

"That's great, Hails!" He put her back down, but kept his hands on her waist. "I knew you could."

"Yeah, well, it was mostly because of you," she sheepishly said.

Beta loudly cleared his (non-existent) throat.

"And, of course, Beta as well."

"That's what I thought!" Beta huffed.

"Nah. You would have figured it out even without us. You're kind of amazing like that."

Scott smiled, and Hailey melted at the sight of his dimples.

"No, Scott." Hailey's voice got serious and a bit softer. "I really couldn't have done this alone. Actually, I wouldn't have completed nearly as much of my list if it weren't for you. Thank you. Truly."

Scott awkwardly laughed. It was so rare that Hailey heard Scott laugh when it wasn't fully genuine. She cocked her head to the side and studied him.

"That's just what best friends do," Scott said. "They're there for each other and help each other through challenges. No matter the challenge. Right?"

"Right."

Hailey turned to head home and realized that Scott still had a hand on her waist. She was going to ask him about it, but the moment she shifted he tucked his hand in his pocket.

"So, how should we spend the rest of the day?" Scott was back to his normal chipper and carefree tone. "Another list item?"

"I could calculate-" Beta started.

"No," Hailey interrupted. "I need to recoup after that last one. I want to forget my list for the rest of the day."

"I'll allow it." Beta shrugged, then climbed back into Hailey's backpack.

"Alright. What's the plan then?" Scott asked.

Hailey slung her backpack over her shoulders, and pondered as they walked. "Well, we do have a lot of daylight left. Shall we try another of your list items, Scott?"

"Are you kidding me?" Beta yelled. "What kind of buffoonery do you think we could possibly cross off of his list?"

"We've already crossed the kaiju-battle and sandwich-named-after-him ones off his list. I'm sure we can find another one." Hailey pivoted to face Scott, and saw that he had lagged slightly behind. "Scott? You... okay?"

"Hmm? Oh! Yeah! I'm fine. Why?"

Hailey shook her head. She must have been overthinking again. "No reason. So? Got a list item for us?"

"A list item?" He slowly pulled out his stack of stained napkins, loose paper, and sticky-notes; anything he had on-hand when he had thought of a new item. He regarded them with a reverence Hailey wasn't expecting, and he tenderly stroked the pile with his thumb.

"Scott?"

Beta groaned. "Oh, what is this moron doing now?"

"Can I pick any item, Hailey?"

"Um." Most of Scott's list wasn't very realistic. Then again, Hailey wouldn't have thought that a real-life kaiju battle would have been a complete-able item, and yet, it was the first one they managed to cross off. Between her, Scott, and Beta, Hailey felt like just about anything was possible. "Yeah! Yeah, pick anything you want, and we'll give it our all to make it happen!"

"Speak for yourself," Beta grumbled.

Hailey elbowed him before turning back to Scott. "It's the least I could do to thank you. So. Which item should we try? Cooking pasta in a hot tub? Counting every grain of sand? Playing a game of pickleball with an actual pickle as the ball? Finally figure out the mystery that is a ghost sandwich?"

"Hailey, do you hear yourself?" Beta rolled his eyes and slumped deeper into Hailey's backpack.

"Well." Scott fidgeted with his list, staring a hole into it. "There has been a list item that I've been wanting to do for a while now."

"Great! What is it? Let's. Make. It. Happen!" Hailey slinked up next to Scott to peer at his list. He shifted so she couldn't see.

Looking around them, he shook his head. "Not here." He paused, again staring at his notes. "I know where, though. Come on."

"Oh-kay? Lead the way, then."

Scott was unusually quiet as they hiked through the woods. He kept checking where they were, nodding or shaking his head as they advanced further.

"You... gonna tell me what we're doing?" Hailey ventured after a couple of minutes.

"I will. But it has to be the right spot. Becker told me about this one place Kennedy had taken her. It should be just a little further."

"Do I at least get a hint?"

They quietly walked for another two minutes. Scott never answering Hailey's question.

"Beta?" Hailey whispered, "Does Scott seem like he's acting a little weird to you, too?"

"That dingbat always seems weird to me."

"Yeah, but-"

"But does he seem to not be his usual bumbling self? Yeah."

"What do you think his list item could be?"

"This is it!" Scott shouted ahead of them. "Hailey!" He jogged back to her, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Do you trust me?"

Hailey blinked, instantly disarmed by the absurdity of the question. "Of course I trust you, Scott. You're probably the person I trust the most."

"Great! Then could you close your eyes and let me lead you the rest of the way?"

Hailey looked past Scott. "That path seems kind of rocky. You sure it'll be safe?"

"Yeah! We'll take it slow. Just follow my directions and you'll be fine."

"This isn't some sort of 'blind leading the blind' kind of list item, is it?" Hailey's face scrunched up in worry.

"No!" Scott pulled back with a start. His face was pained, like Hailey had just slapped him. "What is this? I thought you said you trusted me."

"I do," she drew out the words, "but..."

"Hailey Banks. I, Scott Denoga, promise that I will never knowingly allow you to get hurt." He puffed out his chest and gave a scouting salute.

"I can be your eyes if you need, Hailey," Beta offered.

"No." She scanned Scott. He was serious. He was focused. His eyes were pleading. How could she doubt him? "No, I said I trust him, and I do. I'll be safe." She held out her hands and closed her eyes.

Scott took hold of both of her wrists, and gave a slight tug to direct her forward.

"Slowly. There's a rock in front of you," Scott directed. "Step up. Higher. Perfect. Now step forward. Good. The ground slants slightly to your left here. Easy. I got you."

Hailey was amazed at how good Scott was at this. Within seconds she had complete faith in his instructions. She didn't hesitate as he told her what to do and when. She lost track of how far they had walked or for how long her eyes were closed. Scott Denoga had complete control, and Hailey didn't necessarily mind that.

"The ground is going to shift again as we step off of the grass."

Right on cue, Hailey stepped onto loose dirt or sand; she couldn't quite tell which. Her foot lost some traction, but Scott instantly gripped her forearm to keep her from slipping.

"Three more steps like that."

A warm wind whipped at Hailey's ponytail and caressed her face. The smell of salt filled the air more than it did a moment ago. Nothing was blocking the ocean breeze as it blew into the shore.

"Okay." Scott shifted to Hailey's side. His hands kept constant contact with either her arm or shoulder as he rotated around her, as if he was rock climbing on her and needed to ensure he had a grip at all times. "You can open your eyes now."

The Pacific Ocean stretched out before them on the small, tucked-away overlook. The waves crashed soothingly below. The overlook – which was barely even the size of Hailey's bedroom – had been buffed by the salty ocean winds over the centuries, and the surface was a mix of dirt and sand. Soft, but not so bad as to be difficult to walk on once you got your footing. Someone had rolled a log out into the center of the cliff to act as a bench. It was also worn down by the winds; softening the bark. The wood still seemed sturdy enough to sit on, though.

The whole place was like a dream. The only thing that would have made it better was if they were there at sunset.

"Scott! This is gorgeous!"

"I hoped you'd like it."

"I do. But, we're supposed to be doing one of your list items. I don't understand why we're here."

"Is your list item to backflip off that cliff?" Beta jumped out of Hailey's backpack and ran over to the edge. He looked down and then gestured to Scott. "After you."

"Beta!" Hailey scolded.

"No. As cool as that idea is – and maybe I should add that to my list–"

"You most certainly will not!" Hailey interjected.

"–I actually had something else in mind." Scott pulled his list back out of his pocket. Sliding off the paperclip holding it together, he shuffled the top item to the bottom of the pile. He glanced up at Hailey, took a deep breath, then passed her the new page off the top of the stack. His toe dug into the loose dirt, and his ring finger aimlessly riffled through the rest of his list.

"Scott? Are you... nervous?" Hailey mindlessly accepted the paper from him. When he didn't answer - outside of fidgeting more - she glanced down at what he wanted to do.

The rest of Scott's list was sloppy. Rushed writing. A hodgepodge of scrap paper and napkins. Stains. Bent or ripped edges. Crumpled, wrinkled pages. It was literally any writing surface that Scott could scribble on and swipe for his list the instant he had an idea.

This one was different. It was on a pink index card, carefully cut down with straight and even sides so that it would fit easily into his pocket. It was pristine and still as stiff as a fresh card. Not a wrinkle or stain in sight. The list item was also written in the neatest penmanship that Hailey had ever seen Scott produce. This item was clearly important to him. This wasn't something that he came up with on a whim because he thought it would be fun, like he did with the rest of his list. Scott had thought hard about this task and took great pains to include it among so many items that could have been impossible to complete.

Hailey stared at the crisp handwriting. Her eyes welled up slightly. Her lungs stopped working. Her mind went blank.

Kiss Hailey 'Alohilani Banks

"Scott?"

He shrugged and gave her an awkward half-smile. Exactly the same way he did when he was selected to kiss her at her party.

"Scott, what is this?" Her hand shook as she held up the list item for Scott to read.

Beta poked his head around the log to take a look. As soon as he read the card his eyes snapped over to Scott.

Gulping hard, Scott brushed his hair out of his face in an attempt to look more suave. "It's the list item I'd like to do today. If... that's okay."

"I get that, but... why... is it a list item?" Hailey glared at Beta. He defensively shrugged back at her and shook his head.

"Because." Scott scooped up Hailey's free hand, his voice low. "It's something I want to make a point of doing."

Hailey ripped her hand from Scott, slapped the index card against his chest, and pushed past him. She turned to address Beta directly. "Yeah, but why is this list item so important, hmmm?"

"Hailey, I promise I had nothing to do with this!" Beta flailed around in a panic.

"Yeah, why would Beta have anything to do with my list? He hates my list."

"Indeed I do."

"You told him! Didn't you?" Hailey stormed up to Beta. Her face red with rage and embarrassment.

"Told me what?"

Hailey scooped up Beta and shoved him in Scott's face. "My list item!" On cue, Beta showed Scott item number 143: Kiss Scott Denoga.

"Well..." Scott couldn't keep eye contact.

"I knew it!" She roughly put Beta down and stormed to the other side of the log. "Beta was mad that I wouldn't follow through with my list item to save the world, so he told you about it, and you included it on your list. That way crossing off your list item would also cross off mine!"

This was wrong. It was all wrong! This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Hailey was supposed to have this grand gesture to tell Scott how she felt. Then he was going to tell her that he felt the same way, and they would kiss and be together and everything would be magical.

Maybe not centaur magical, but still.

An arbitrary obligation to try to save the world was far from magical. She regretted ever including kissing Scott on her list.

"Scott, I don't want to just kiss you to cross off a list item! I never wanted it to just be 'a thing' and not mean anything! I would have kissed you during that game if that's what I wanted. But... it's not!" Fighting back tears, Hailey plopped down on the log. It really was a cozy bench.

"Hey," Scott cooed. "Hailey, I don't want that either." He cautiously approached her.

She huffed and pivoted to keep her back towards him.

"Hails." Scott looked at the index card with his list item on it. Glancing sheepishly to the side, he tucked the card back into his pocket. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm just... so embarrassed," Hailey admitted. She hugged herself tight and pulled her knees in close.

"Why?"

"Because you know that I wanted to kiss you. For a while now."

"And wanting to kiss me is embarrassing?"

"Definitely."

"Beta!" Hailey hissed.

Beta held up his arms defensively as he made himself scarce.

Hailey huffed disapproval at Beta. She then shifted and stole tentative glances up at Scott. "No. Wanting to kiss you isn't embarrassing. But also, yes? I mean, you're Scott Denoga! My next-door neighbor and best friend since forever! We spend nearly every waking moment together. We like the same things. We don't question each other's crazy ideas (for the most part). You're always there for me. I mean, just look at my list! You're down for anything. You always know how to cheer me up and make me laugh. When I'm spiraling you know how to calm me down and get me to refocus so I can fix the problem. When I can't see a solution you do. I-" Hailey blushed as she turned away from Scott again.

"You?" Scott prompted when Hailey didn't continue.

"I just feel so vulnerable. And exposed and," she paused to find the right word, "scared, I guess?"

"Of me?"

She shook her head. "Of getting my heart broken. As long as you didn't know how I felt you couldn't reject me. You wouldn't give me those big, puppy-dog eyes full of sympathy as you told me we'd always be best friends, but you just didn't see me that way. I could just rationalize that you were with Kristine or Destiny because you didn't know, and that you'd be with me if you did."

"Hails." Scott sighed her name, and Hailey wanted to crumble.

"I know. This is dumb." Hailey's eyes stung and her throat started to close. "Look. You didn't know for years, right? I can hide my feelings again. Nothing needs to change."

Scott sat on the log, leaving precious inches between them. He scooped up Hailey's hand, and waited a moment to see if she'd take it back. When she didn't – she couldn't, despite herself – he tenderly brushed the back of her hand with his thumb. "What if I want things to change?"

Hailey's eyes shot up to meet his. "What?"

"What if I didn't need to know that you like-liked me before I decided that I want to be with you?"

Hailey's heart jumped.

"Wait! Wha-what are you saying, Scott?"

"That I like-like Hailey Banks. Like. A lot."

Hailey felt faint. "You do?"

"Of course! Why do you think I added kissing you to my list?" He chuckled, like she had questioned the most obvious thing in the world.

Hailey glanced towards Beta pouting by a bush. "So, it wasn't because of my-"

"I realized I liked you before I found out about that."

"You did?"

Scott nodded and gave Hailey an awkward lopsided smile. "You're right. Beta showed me after you refused to keep going with your list, but I had already decided that I wanted to be with you earlier that night."

Hailey's eyes went wide and her mouth slacked. "That's why you were out in the rain with the bouquet of flowers?"

Scott nodded again. "I just wasn't having fun at the dance with Destiny. After talking to Kristine, I realized that it was because I wanted to be at the dance with you. I missed you, and I just don't have as much fun if you aren't there."

"So you ran all the way to my house in the rain?"

"Well, if I wasn't going to have fun at the dance without you there, why wouldn't I want to go get you? Besides, I knew I needed to tell you how I felt as soon as possible."

Hailey winced and finally pulled her hand away. "But then I screwed the whole thing up with that dumb Sanjay stunt!"

"Hey, you didn't know."

"I should have figured it out, though! You were drenched and alone on my front porch with a bouquet of flowers and told me you had something important to tell me! How did I not figure it out from that?" Hailey hid her face behind her hands and groaned. "And then you were just there, alone again, on the bleachers. Clearly, things didn't work out with Destiny. Why didn't I just end things with Sanjay then?"

"Because you were happy with Sanjay."

"Yeah, but-"

"Hailey, an attractive guy that you were having fun with asked you out, and you had no clue that I liked you that way. What were you supposed to do? Say no?"

Hailey's eyes narrowed questioningly. "Why are you doing this?"

Scott blinked in confusion. "Doing what?"

Hailey scooted further down the log, away from Scott. "Trying to cheer me up. I-I screwed up and I clearly hurt you. Why are you still trying to comfort me?"

"Because it wasn't your fault. Yeah, it hurt, but you didn't do it on purpose. Like when I went out with Kristine, or went to the dance with Destiny to begin with. I didn't mean to hurt you. And you didn't mean to hurt me with Sanjay. Besides, I'm fine now. I get to sit here and enjoy this view with my best friend." He gestured to the ocean lapping at the shore below them. "No Sanjay or Destiny or Kristine in sight."

Hailey watched Scott for a moment. There truly was no hurt or malice there. He lounged a little on the log, kicking his legs out in front of him, and leaning on his arms behind him. The ocean wind played with his hair, and Hailey felt a twinge of jealousy towards a breeze.

"Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you." Hailey shifted closer to him.

"You've already thanked me tons of times today." Scott lightheartedly laughed.

"I haven't yet for this." Hailey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you for being so patient with me. And, well, for not making a big deal about my feelings for you."

"Hailey," Scott chuckled, "Did you miss the part where I have them too?"

Hailey blushed. "No." She mindlessly played with her nails.

Scott scooched closer so his hip was bumped up against Hailey's. She didn't retreat. She just kept playing with her nails.

"Are we cool then?"

Hailey stole a glance up at him. "You promise your list item isn't just some elaborate plan to get me to cross it off of my list?"

"I promise. I added it because it was something I wanted to do. That's all."

"Yeah, but you knew it was on my list. You didn't need to add it to yours."

"Nuh-uh! Your list item was to kiss me. My list item is to kiss you. They're totally different."

Hailey chuckled. "They really aren't."

Scott leaned in a bit more. "Sure it is. For your list item, I have to wait for you. For mine, I get to make the first move."

Hailey's whole body burned as her face flushed. She bit her lip, unsure what to do. This was the moment she was waiting for. Why was she still so nervous?

"I'm sorry I lied to you. About the whole Sanjay thing. I'm sorry I made him up in the first place. Also, I'm sorry that I hid that list item from you for so long. I just- I wasn't ready to let you know that I liked you that way, and then Kristine saw the list item, and-."

"Hey." Scott placed a hand on Hailey's shoulder. It stilled her instantly. "It's okay. None of that matters."

"It doesn't?"

"No. What matters is that I wake up each morning excited to see you. I want to spend my free time with you. I have so much fun when we're together. Way more than when I'm with anyone else. If I'm somewhere without you, I wonder what you're doing. Or I think about how much you would love doing whatever it is that I'm doing and how much I wish you were there with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Hailey, you're my person. I have a blast when we hang out. Plus, you get me like no one else does."

"And you get to do cool things while helping me save the future." Hailey playfully elbowed him in the ribs.

Scott scratched the back of his head nervously. "I mean, yeah, that's cool too, and I can't deny that the list helped me realize my feelings. But it's not because of the things I get to do."

"It's not?"

Scott shook his head. "It's because of how it's transformed you. You're bolder now. More confident. You know how to set boundaries or ask for help. Plus, you're just more open to experiences and people now."

"Really? Have I changed that much?"

"Well, kinda? But also, not really? I mean, you've always been amazing. That's why you're my best friend. You're just... more amazing now. I think you finally see it as much as I always have. And it's been so cool to see you shine."

"Scott." A tear spilled out of Hailey's cloudy eyes. She rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him through her lashes. "You're kinda awesome too, ya know."

"Yeah," Scott sighed with that playful confidence that he has.

Hailey poked him in the side, making him wince and giggle. "You could be a little humble about it."

"Ugh!" Beta groaned behind them. "Could you two just kiss already? I could make syrup from all this sap!"

The teens nervously laughed before staring at each other. Looking to the other for the first move.

Scott, always fearless, scooped up Hailey's hand in his own. His thumb traced across each of her knuckles as her fingers tightened around his. His other hand slid across her back, wrapping her in an embrace. His eyes closed, and his chin lowered, waiting for her to meet him halfway.

Hailey's heart raced. She and Scott had hugged before. They used to use their fingers to draw doodles on each other's backs when they were younger. Scott had physically supported her by bracing her back, or catching her in his arms. Nothing he was currently doing was objectively a new sensation. That didn't stop the chills and goosebumps from forming wherever Scott's hand touched. Despite Hailey trying to rationalize it to calm her nerves, this was definitely different. This was big. This had a new layer of tenderness and vulnerability that Hailey hadn't experienced before. Not even during her stunt with "Sanjay".

As if they were in a movie, Hailey could practically hear music swelling into a crescendo; driving her towards Scott with newfound courage and calm. Her free hand slid to his knee. She leaned in, and tilted her head back slightly. Instinct clicked on, and Hailey's eyes fluttered shut, trusting her mouth would be drawn towards Scott's like a magnet.

Scott's hand slipped up to cradle her shoulders as Hailey leaned further into him. In kind, Hailey squeezed his other hand and tugged him a little closer.

Then their lips connected. A soft brush at first. Followed by the full velvety, supple, pleasantly moist cushion of each other's lips. Hailey's heart rocketed into her throat. Her skin tingled as a wave of heat flashed over her. The RomCom music climaxed with a plucky guitar riff. This wasn't anything like how she had imagined this moment.

It was somehow better.

Hailey's armband beeped for the second time that day. She had done it. The hardest item on her list. And it was surprisingly easy.

Of course it was. Things were always easy with Scott. Hailey wasn't sure why she ever thought otherwise.

With a bashful giggle, the teens pulled apart from each other.

"About time!" Beta said. The RomCom music abruptly cut out, and Hailey realized it wasn't just in her head.

"Beta! Were you playing mood music?"

Beta heaved an exasperated sigh. "I couldn't let that drag out any further. I had to do something to get you two to finally kiss!"

Both Hailey and Scott blushed.

"Well, that's one more item off my list, too." Scott stood up and pulled the pink index card back out of his pocket.

Hailey grabbed his wrist. "No. Wait." She looked to Beta, who had no clue where she was going with this. "You-your item clearly says 'Kiss Hailey 'Alohilani Banks', but- but I was the one who kissed you just then. Which is why my band went off." Hailey held up her still green armband, and puffed out her chest with a false bravado that she hoped Scott would take at face value. "You still need to initiate the kiss for your list item, if I recall."

Scott tucked the card back into his pocket, and ruffled his hair as he bashfully looked away from Hailey. She didn't realize how adorable he could look when flustered.

"You know what? You're right." Scott pulled Hailey to her feet, purposefully tugging a touch too hard and throwing her off balance. He caught her against his chest. As the teens giggled out their nervous energy, Scott left his arms wrapped around Hailey's waist.

Hailey had no clue what to do with her hands. First, she ran them across his chest, but that felt too weird and intimate and mature and- nope! Around his neck, maybe? She took a step closer to him so she could link her wrists together behind his head. This still didn't quite feel right.

Eventually, she settled on running one hand through Scott's fluffy hair, and the other tugged at his shirt by his waist. She hoped her indecisiveness didn't ruin the mood. She meekly looked up at Scott, and caught him with the softest smile she had ever seen.

It was Hailey's turn to angle her chin and wait. With her eyes closed, unsure of when Scott would lean in for his kiss, the seconds were unbearably long. She gathered more of his shirt into her hand, subtly pulling him closer.

Scott cupped the side of Hailey's face, his thumb lovingly stroking her cheek. He tilted Hailey's head a millimeter more as he gently pressed his lips against hers.

There were just as many fireworks as their first kiss. Hailey's grip on both Scott's shirt and hair tightened. She didn't want this moment to end. The only reason she could think of for breaking their kiss was so she could joyfully Kristine-squeal about this finally happening.

Scott Denoga liked her. He actually liked her. Like-liked her!

She now understood how she could manage to reverse climate change. With Scott by her side, nothing felt impossible anymore. Knowing that he'd be there to pick her up whenever she fell erased her fears of trying new things.

Especially when new things felt as amazing as this.

[lycorogue]

Next Plagg Appreciation Day (Friday, March 13) I might have to focus more on these two interacting. I have such small bits of it in my first two goes... *cough*shamelessplug*cough* Breaking Monotony - a Day In The Life Of Plagg story

Forever in Darkness - my headcanon of Plagg’s life pre-Adrien (at least the last millennium of it)

Thinking about this underrated duo that needs appreciation

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: Tell Me You Want Me When You’re Sober

I- was NOT expecting to write something today! Hooray for random shocks from my Muse!

Actually, for this story, I'd like to thank @ceejles​. Some minor spoilers for the story, but ceejles’s SpyxFamily fanart inspired this piece. I just kept thinking about these three opening panels to her one fancomic, and picturing Loid as Adult Adrien and Yor as Adult Marinette. Add in the song "Siren" by April Fooze*, and you get this story. (Boy, it's fun to actually KNOW where inspiration came from!)

*April Fooze is the streamer Fuslie’s GTA NoPixel character.

Summary: While at Alya and Nino's house-warming party, Marinette wandered off to take a breather. Noticing her vanishing act, Adrien went to look for her. Hidden away in the guest bedroom being used as a coat-check room, the two take a moment to themselves. The fun little intimate moment between friends becomes more intimate than either of them anticipated.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1470

Status: completed one-shot

Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

Tell Me You Want Me When You’re Sober

“Adrien! Dance with me!” Marinette downed the last of her tequila sunrise before slamming the highball glass onto the guest bedroom dresser and pulling Adrien to his feet.

Adrien chuckled. “There isn't any music playing.”

Pouting at him, Marinette fumbled for her phone, and brought up some slinky, sultry club music. She slammed her phone on the dresser beside her glass and then gestured towards it.

“How am I supposed to dance to this?” Adrien laughed again and placed his hands on his hips.

“Oh, like you can't slink around?” Marinette stuck out her tongue. Her hips and head swayed with the music. Her hands slid up her sides, along her jawline, and then met above her head. As her hands traveled, her eyes closed. A smirk crossed her lips just before she gently bit her lower one. Her humming along with the song was what finally hooked her prey.

Adrien's hands wrapped around Marinette's waist, feeling it sway. Her shirt slid up a touch, and his ring and middle fingers brushed against her skin.

“Marinette, maybe we should go back to the party,” Adrien suggested in a hushed tone.

“Mm-mm.” She shook her head and pivoted in Adrien's hands so her back was towards him. She gathered her hair up and off her neck. “I like it in here.”

“Alya and Nino are going to wonder where we've vanished.”

“They have other guests. They won't notice.”

Adrien leaned into Marinette's ear. “I think they might.”

“Mmmm. I wanna dance. There's no place to dance out there.”

“We're in their spare bedroom. There's no place to dance in here either.”

“There's plenty of space.” Marinette slid out of Adrien's hands, kicked off her shoes, and climbed up onto the bed piled with coats.

“That's not a very sturdy dance stage.”

Trying to prove otherwise, Marinette planted her feet and started dipping low as she continued to sway with the music. Her hands traveled across her body before stretching out and beckoning for Adrien to join her.

He shook his head no and curled a finger to beckon her to him instead.

Stubbornly, Marinette twirled on the bed. Her foot caught on one of the coats, throwing her off balance.

“Marinette!” Adrien rushed forward as Marinette tumbled sideways off the bed. He easily caught her in a bridal carry. “You okay?”

She nodded, and he placed her back onto her feet, his hands still firmly on her sides to help steady her.

“I told you that wasn't a good place to dance. Come on, let's get back to the party.”

Eyebrows stitched together in mild frustration, Marinette grabbed either side of Adrien's shirt collar. With a tug she pulled Adrien the few inches down she needed to reach him while on her tiptoes. Their lips collided with a satisfied moan rolling from Marinette's chest.

Eyes wide with a start, Adrien kept a millisecond to register what just happened. As the heat from Marinette's lips reached his brain he leaned into the kiss, slamming her gently into the wall a few inches behind her. Their bodies pressed against each other; her hands still tugging hungrily on his shirt. A low growl rumbled through Adrien's throat. Marinette's tongue pressed against his lips, asking for entry.

With a quick inhale, Adrien pulled away; the spell of the music, low lighting, and muffled sounds of the party around them broken. The faint tang of orange clung to his lips; transferred there from Marinette's tongue.

“Adrien?” Marinette was still pinned against the wall. Her hair was matted around her head like a sloppy halo. Her eyes were half lidded and luring. Her lips were barely parted and a deep red from their brief encounter. The rose in her cheeks had bled to her ears, and Adrien wasn't sure if it was from the booze, the dancing, or the kiss.

“You're drunk,” he whispered.

“I am.” Her right hand followed the trim of his collar to the back of his neck. She gently pulled on it; instructing him to lean back into her.

Adrien rested his forehead against hers; his eyes closed. “You don't know what you want.”

“No,” she whispered back. “Being drunk means I know exactly what I want. But now I'm not going to stop myself from getting it.” Her right hand continued to press on the back of his neck as her left skirted around to his back.

Adrien's breath hitched. He stood frozen with his forehead against hers as she hungrily pulled on him to bring him back to her mouth. The song transitioned to another; this one a bit more upbeat with some rap. Neither of them noticed the music anymore.

Adrien nuzzled against the side of Marinette's face and whispered in her ear. “Marinette. Listen to me. Listen carefully, okay?”

She hummed acknowledgment and tilted her head away; opening her collarbone up to him.

“Marinette, I want you.”

“I want you too, Adrien.” She kissed his jawline. “So, this works out well, doesn't it?” Her hands slid down his body and caught on the waistband of his pants.

“No.” He took a step away from her, catching her hands in his. With an intensity that Marinette didn't recall seeing before, Adrien repeated himself. “I want you. I don't know exactly how drunk you are, so, I'm hoping it's not black-out drunk. I need you to hear this and remember it.” Dropping one of her hands, Adrien cradled her chin instead. “If I'm truly what you want – who you want – know that I want you too.”

“I'm right here, Adrien. I am right here. We're alone. There's a bed-”

Adrien covered her mouth. “Stop! Stop this! Marinette, I know this isn't how you want to do this. This wasn't how you wanted to tell me. This isn't how you pictured us getting together. You don't want it to be while you're drunk and we're hidden away during our best friends' house-warming party. If you truly want it at all.”

Marinette batted his hand off her and ripped her other hand out of his. “Don't! Don't you dare tell me what I do and don't want. You don't know. You're not in my head. You don't know how I feel. You don't know how hard it is for me to not do this every second we're in a room together. Just let me have this! Let me be free! Let me finally get out of my own way! This isn't about Alya or Nino. This is about me and you and us!”

“Then do it right.” Adrien was calm and gentle, almost pleading.

Marinette shook her head in confusion, “I- I don't-”

“Get out of your own way when you're sober! Marinette. I. Want. To be. With. You! I didn't want to tell you that while you're drunk, though. I don't want us getting together to be something you might not remember - or worse - regret.”

“Adrien.”

“I want this to be true. God! For years I've wanted for this-” he gestured towards Marinette and the bed, “-to all be true. Now that it looks like it is?” He heaved a sigh. “Call me tomorrow. When you're sober. We can pick this up again then. If you still want to.”

She stared at him, her eyes frantically scanning his face. His gaze drifted to her still parted lips. With a subtle shudder, he turned towards the dresser. Closing the music app, he scooped up her phone and handed it to her.

“Come on. Let's get you some water and get back to the party before anyone misses us.”

“Adrien?”

“Hmm?”

“You want me?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Marinette folded into herself. “That's kind of apples and oranges, isn't it? I mean. I'm me and you're- you.”

“Exactly. I'm surprised you're so shocked that I'd be too nervous to say anything before.”

“Nervous? But, I'm-”

“One of my first friends? Someone who basically has her pick of guys to choose from? The most amazing and kind person I've ever met? Absolutely gorgeous? Yeah, no. What do I have to be nervous about?”

“Adrien. You were a literal model who lived in a mansion.”

“Point?” He smirked.

“Call me tomorrow? If I forget to? If I get in my own way again?”

He nodded and held out his hooked arm for her. She threaded her arm through his and he escorted her to the kitchen for some water.

.

The next day, she made the phone call they had both been waiting on for years.

.

** Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you want me to tag you on any of my writing updates**

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

[lycorogue]

Latest Story: Never Take This for Granted

Who’s ready for probably the shortest ficlet I’ve written for this fandom?

Well, I woke up this morning with (more-or-less) these exact thoughts in my own head, and something told me that Adrien would probably have them too. Maybe it's because I see myself in him a little bit. Maybe because I think he'd learn the same lessons I did with regards to losing a parent. I lost my dad roughly the same age that Adrien lost Emile. While my mom did not end up neglectful, abusive, manipulative, nor a terrorist, much like Gabriel, my mom did make it well known how hurt she was to have lost her spouse. I felt the pain of her realizing she lost the love of her life too early in life (she wasn't even 40) and after far too few years together. I praise my mom for the strength she has shown through the years and how – unlike Gabriel – her love for my dad made her stronger and helped carry her forward.

I know from experience that loves cannot last forever, and may very well be ripped from you too soon. Which is probably why I had these thoughts (ones I frequently have, if I'm honest) when I awoke, and why I feel Adrien might have them too. So, enjoy my morning thoughts, as told by Adrien.

(If you want that extra ambiance, I had the song "Ceilings" by Lizzy McAlpine stuck in my head while I was writing this)

Summary: Adrien awakes overwhelmed with gratitude to be married to Marinette.

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 420

Status: completed one-shot

Continue reading below, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

Never Take This for Granted

Adrien awoke before their alarm. The gentle sunlight through their curtains was enough to stir him. The laundry list of things that needed to be done raced through his mind, and he debated taking advantage of the early start to the day.

Then Marinette softly snored beside him.

With a smile, he knew his place was in bed. At least, for a little while longer. He shifted so he could spoon his wife; careful not to move her or wake her. He rested his hand on her hip, and closed his eyes to the world so he could soak her in with his other senses.

They had been together for twenty years, but it still felt like not enough time. He knew that twenty years was both an amazing gift and just a drop in a hat. The duality of it being exceptionally long and tragically short. He needed another twenty years. Forty. Sixty. Eighty! No matter how long they had, it would always be too short.

“Please,” he silently prayed. He wasn't sure to whom, but to any and every Greater Power there might be. He wordlessly screamed his plea to the cosmos. “Please, never let me take this for granted. Have me always be comforted by her body heat against me. Let me always find her quiet breathing soothing. Let my hand always feel at home on her hip. Let her smell always lull me. Let the fact that I wake up with her beside me always amaze me a little bit. Let me feel lucky that I have her in my life; always. Forever. Please, please. Don't ever let me take her for granted. Let me memorize every morning I have beside her.”

He wanted to squeeze her. Hold her closer. Never let her go. Prove to himself that she was there and real and not going anywhere.

But he couldn't chance waking her. He couldn't chance ruining this moment. Clinging tight to her would never improve what he had in that instance.

So, he comforted himself with his legs tucked within the nook of hers, and his hand on her hip. That was enough. That grounded him. That was the proof he needed that she was there and he'd be alright for another day.

The sun flooded the room in a golden glow. Adrien didn't see it though. He kept his eyes closed, focused on the warmth of his wife beside him, and fell back asleep until the alarm rudely interrupted their quiet slice of paradise.

.

** Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you want me to tag you on any of my writing updates**

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

[lycorogue]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Originally started by @izanae. **EDIT: Seems izanae was also tagged by someone, but didn't state who. So I'm not sure who truly originated this questionnaire... Thanks for the tag @tree-reads

The "original" Fic Writers Ask thread (that izanae started) was getting lengthy (by nature of the game), and I was about to double its size (by nature of my writing style). But please go and check that thread out to see how other wriblrs answered. You might find a new favorite that way!

Alright, let's get to it.

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

49 (really? It feels like I have so many more...) You can also find me over on FFN and DA still, and I do post my stories here too... just... FYI.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

357,107* *I feel like I should clarify that the 49 stories and 357k words is since I started publishing fanfic in 2010. I feel like this doesn't seem all that impressive now... (also... holy hecken! I've been publishing fanfic for 13 years!?)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Miraculous Ladybug (31), but I originated in the "Hey, Arnold!" fandom (7*). I've also written for Fruits Basket (4). I have a couple of D&D fanfics - 1 each for 2 of my D&D characters, and I have written one story each for the following fandoms: - Left 4 Dead/Jonathan Coulton's song "Re: Your Brains" - Graceling Realm series by Kristin Cashore (specifically, the novel Bitterblue) [Rated: Explicit] - Ender Series by Orson Scott Card (specifically, the novel Speaker for the Dead) - Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (the LoZ franchise is one of my main fandoms... I'm shocked I haven't written more for it...) [Told in 1st person] - An all-OCs fic set in the X-Men: Evolution universe *I have more HA fics over on FFN that I didn't port over because they aren't completed works.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Woven Heartstrings Summary: Chat Noir needs a Christmas gift for Ladybug. Marinette is a very crafty and creative person, so Chat Noir asks her for some help in making a gift for his lady. While hesitant in aiding Chat Noir's attempts to woo her superhero self, Marinette reluctantly agrees. Although, after a week of working side-by-side with Marinette, Chat Noir's not so sure he wants to gift the scarf he's making to Ladybug after all. Could Your Paradise Also Be Your Hell? Summary: Marinette is not coping very well when she's magically transported into her older-self's body, and discovers she's now married to Adrien Agreste. [Unofficial companion piece to Remember That Time When... by @mostlovedgirl-writes ] Peeping Tomcat Summary: Something called to Adrien, and before he knew it, he was addicted to sitting outside Marinette's window as Chat Noir; just watching her. His voyeuristic habit needs to stop, but things have gotten far too complicated now that he realizes he's growing a crush on her. [Story told in 1st person; non-sexual voyeurism] I Was Thinking of You Summary: Girls' Day derails when Marinette realizes the male lead of a romance movie reminds her of someone other than Adrien. [Lukanette story] Is it True? Summary: Marinette instantly regrets confessing her feelings for Adrien. He decides it might be time for a confession of his own.

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

Always. I may run out of spoons and miss a comment for a little while, but I make a point of going back and still replying eventually. Even if it's months later. EDIT: I neglected to copy/paste the whole question originally. So, here's the answer to the why/why not question. I make sure to respond to all comments because people put in the effort to read my story and then tell me how they felt about it. I NEED to send the love right back to them. I need them to know that their words matter and warmed my heart. (That said, even if you don't leave a review, I do love you, Reader)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Despite my friends teasing that I'm "the queen of angst", I actually don't have too many stories that don't end on a hopeful note. So, if we're going "pure angst ending" I only have two: Unsent Letter for the Fruits Basket fandom and True Husband for Speaker for the Dead (Enderverse). Both are shorter stories of people believing they are unworthy of love, pity those who do love them, and believe they have sinned and are deserving of being miserable. If you want to stick within the Miraculous fandom, I'd say I'm Not Allowed to Love You [contains s4 finale spoilers]. That was angsty enough that I had to end on a hopeful note via an epilogue that I added to the closing author's notes.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh goodness! As mentioned, I try to end just about all of my stories on a high note. I was able to narrow the 49 stories down to 8 with a fluffy, happy ending. Out of those 8? I think Woven Heartstrings has the most optimistic, love-filled ending? Everybody is just showing their love and appreciation for everyone else (even Adrien and Gabriel... written pre-Chat Blanc, I believe???). It's just a lovefest story. Runners Up categories: - Favorite LoveSquare Fluff winner: I Just Wanted to Kiss You - Happiest Lukanette content winner: I Was Thinking of You - Happiest Family Unit winner: Build Your Own Luck - Happiest Platonic Love winner*: The Truest of Friends *excluding Woven Heartstrings - Happiest "I'm probably going to rework this as original fiction" winner: I Don't Care [a Gabriemilie story written before s5 lore drops]

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have been so so SO lucky that I have not. My heart goes out to you writers who do. :'(

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have written smut 3x (working on a 4th). I published 1. I am cishet, so I am vanilla and write cishet. Smut is also a rare genre of writing for me to venture into. So rare that my current "smut" story is more "plot with eventual porn" than it is "porn with(out) plot". The sex is a significant character development moment in 3 out of the 4 stories I wrote. The 4th was more of a character study for a pair of OCs. No shade on the "porn without plot" folks. Those stories are so fun and indulgent and I appreciate them so much. My brain just won't let me pare down to that style no matter how much I try. It's like "Nope. Must have character growth. Throw emotions into this mess!"

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one?

I think I've only attempted to write a crossover once... and it was not a very successful result. It was Arnold Shortman and Helga Pataki from "Hey, Arnold!" in the world of Familiar of Zero. Helga was Louise and Arnold was her familiar Saito.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Uh... I don't think so???

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge (although I'd be down if someone wanted to translate any of my works). That said, Woven Heartstrings does have the only non-English review I've received (it's in French). So.... maybe someone translated it into French without letting me know??? I just assumed the reader knew enough English to understand what I wrote or otherwise used a translating service....

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Three different times. One was partially published. Prior to the Hey Arnold Jungle Movie officially being made, @chibisunnie and I attempted to write up a fanscript (is that how we met? I can't recall....). My friend Ronoxym and I have also attempted to write two different X-Men OC stories centered around his OC Devon. Although, in both cases, it was more he wrote the story and then I kind of unintentionally hijacked it???? The incomplete co-written fic that I actually attempted to publish* was one of the two I wrote with Rono: Please, Let Me Explain. *not published on AO3; on FFN and DA only

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

That I've written for? Love Square. Specifically anything where Marinette is herself instead of Ladybug: MariChat or Adrienette. They just remind me so much of myself and my husband. Fave in general? My OTP of OTPs is probably Gambit and Rogue from X-Men. I tend to refer to my husband as Gambit to my Rogue. (Are you sensing a theme as per my relationship vs my shipping tendencies?)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

My poor unintentionally abandoned "Hey, Arnold!" epic What is Truly Meant to Be. It is on FFN and DA only.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I am frequently told that I keep the characters and world so in-character/canon-accurate that my stories read like "lost episodes" of a show. I'm also fairly good at dialogue and conveying emotions.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

- Naming things. Titles. Naming a McGuffin. Coming up with superhero/villain names. etc. - Anything with a LOT of action in it. Be that fight scenes, chase scenes, or sex scenes. I'm someone who can picture things in my head as clear as if I were watching a movie, and I try to convey what I'm seeing to the reader as if I were writing visual media such as a show/movie or comic. This usually leads me to micromanage the movement of the characters and the action ends up feeling clunky and repetitive. - Allowing the characters to get physically hurt in a way that professional medical treatment is needed. Broken limb? Stab wound? Concussion? Injured eye? Poisoned? Nope. Can't do it. Mental block tells me "no". - Write short, sweet, concise stories/drabbles/ficlets (can't you tell?)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Huh. With the exception of proper nouns (such as Chat Noir), I'm not sure if I've used non-English words that aren't just borrowed words within English or words most English speakers would know anyway (such as enchanté, cómo estás, or dōmo arigatō). I know I italicize thoughts, so I don't know if I'd italicize a non-English word to signal that it's a foreign word??? I'd assume the readers would know that already. I think, if I were to ever use a foreign word within dialogue it would have to depend on the circumstance. If the foreign word or phrase is important for the POV character to learn, I may include it along with a translation. Otherwise, I may just state that the characters are speaking in this other language and then write it in English so my readers have a better chance at understanding what is being said. Also, I am far from multilingual, so that would help me avoid translation errors.

19. What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

Technically, I think it would be X-Men???? I think I came up with X-Men OCs and storylines for those OCs back when I was in, like, 5th grade????? Then I did some Batman fanfics in middle and early high school. Mostly solo roleplay/dressup in my basement because I was that nerd still playing pretend by myself when I was 16. First fandom I published a fic for? If you don't count play-by-post RPGs*, then my first published-online fanfic fandom was "Hey, Arnold!" *the play-by-post game was for Batman.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

YOU'RE ASKING ME TO PICK MY FAVORITE CHILD!? Unlike parenthood, I GUESS I could put effort into actually answering this.... I've got it narrowed down to 4. These are the 4 I have probably reread the most. Two of them are the stories I wrote as kind of fanfics of @mostlovedgirl-writes 's fanfics. Take what you want from that, but, basically, I guess I love living in the worlds MLG creates??? The other two finalists are my personal headcanons for Miraculous Ladybug. Headcanon stories: Build Your Own Luck - cute little Dupain-Cheng family bonding story about the origins of the lucky charm bracelet that Marinette gave to Adrien. Forever in Darkness - What Plagg's life was like with his previous holders, and why he thinks Adrien is the best one he's had. Inspired by MLG: Could Your Paradise Also Be Your Hell? - How Marinette spent the night before heading off to NYC. Unofficial companion story for Remember That Time When... Rolling Thunder - Adult Marinette and Adrien stumbling their way into a romantic relationship, finally! Based off of Finding Yourself in the Details Honorable Mention to my longest story and first completed chaptered story: Peeping Tomcat

Phew! That... was a LOT! Thanks for sticking around until the end! It was fun going back through my portfolio.

All that wish to answer this, consider yourself tagged!

Official no-pressure tags for: @mostlovedgirl-writes, @captaintoomanybattles, @thetauruspixie, @livrever, and @cyhyr

[lycorogue]

This is brilliant! I’m dying over here. YES! This is what happened after the credits rolled (although... Kagami doesn’t go to their school... soooooooooo????). I love Alya just storming in and demanding answers! XD

Also, I’m going to thief this post for a shameless plug.... forgive me.

If you’re interested in what potentially happened while Adrien and Kagami were in London, I totally wrote a fic of my headcanon about it: Prescription for Love

My heart is torn on how to interprit Backwarder

because I absolutely love the idea of Adrien’s Chat side kicking in and him being extremely stupidly loyal to Marinette and determined to find the mediciene himself without asking any questions or telling anyone about it

But also... consider...

Nino: hey bro how was the wedding?

Kagami: he wouldn’t know, he ditched most of it

Nino: wait, really? That doesn’t sound like Adrien.

Kagami: I helped

Nino: Uh, yeah, I’d assume so. My man Adrien never rebels on his own. He’s literally obsessed with being perfect and following the rules

Adrien: hey! guys, I can totally rebel

Kagami: sure you can *rolls eyes*

Nino: so what did you bros do while you were sneaking out

Kagami: Adrien bought drugs

Nino: dude, you WHAT???

Adrien: I did not... I mean, well, technically... that’s not the point

Nino: why did you buy drugs, bro?

Adrien: they weren’t for me!

Kagami: yeah cuz that’s way better

Nino: who were they for then?!

Adrien: I can’t tell you, she told me to keep it a secret

Kagami: Marinette

Nino: what?!

Adrien: how did you know-

Kagami: I literally watched as she handed you that letter

Adrien: ...oh

Nino: Oh, wow, my dudes, the plot is thickening

Kagami: *laughs*

Adrien: *is bright red at this point* it wasn’t like, illegal drugs, you guys

Kagami: well what were you getting her? Why was it so secretive? I’m not going to believe you until you tell me details...

Nino: oh my God, dude, wait... she’s not pregnant is she?

Adrien: No!!! Why would- No!

Nino: Bro, I’m not the crazy one here. You’re being very suspicious

Kagami: just tell us, please, it can’t be worse than what we’re imagining

Nino: or if it is, we’re your best buds. We deserve the juicy gossip

Kagami: shut up Nino, you’re not helping

Adrien: ok, fine. I just-

Alya: *bursts through the door*

Nino: Hey-

Alya: Adrien why the FRICk did you buy Marinette constipation medicine??? Because she won’t tell us anything, and I NEED ANSWERS. How?? Did this even happen??? Why is this my life???

Nino: you got her WHAT bro?

Kagami: *starts cackling so hard that tears roll down her face*

Nino: well... congrats on rebelling *fist bumps Kagami*

[lycorogue]

Alright. Let’s try this again. Take nine....

I haven’t really touched my WIP Seduce with Caution since my attempt to go anywhere with it for NaNoWriMo in November. Nearly 5 full months with no progress.

Clearly my normal “shoot from the hip”, “channel the characters and let them tell me their story”, “write by the seat of my pants” style isn’t working.

Clearly “vague plotting/Jot, Bin, Pants” tactic isn’t working.

Clearly creating a playlist for the story isn’t working (although it IS still helping)

Clearly the “Snowflake Method” of plotting an outline isn’t working.

Clearly the most basic “Rollercoaster Plotting” method isn’t working.

Clearly the “9-point/Hero’s Journey” outline template isn’t working.

Clearly the “Save the Cat” method of plotting isn’t working.

Clearly the “3 Act / 9 Block / 27 Chapters” outline breakdown isn’t working. Although, this, plus the “snowflake method” are probably the ones that have helped the most.

So, here we are again with yet ANOTHER outline breakdown attempt. This one I’m calling Big to Small (crafty, I know). It’s similar to how the Snowflake Method works, but with more of the 3/9/27 breakdown.

I’m looking at the most basic core of all story structures: set-up, followed by conflict, and concluded by a resolution. That’s it. That’s a story. I then take each section and do it again, and again, and again... as many times as I need to get the full narrative sorted out.

What is the conflict of the whole story, the reason this story needs to be told? That’s the main spine of your story; the second act.

What is the set-up that leads to the central story conflict? That’s your Act I.

How does the central conflict resolve? You’ve got yourself your Act III.

Start vague and dive deeper the smaller you get.

Take that Act I (the overall story set-up) and divide it again into set-up, conflict, and resolution. Now your act has its own rise and fall to drive the plot forward. Rinse and repeat with Acts II and III.

Take the Act I set-up and divide it again. The set-up here is your introduction to the world presented in the story; the “status quo” for your characters. The conflict is your inciting incident. The resolution is the drive towards the Act I conflict.

Then go deeper. Go to that inciting incident and break it again: the set-up, the conflict (the actual inciting incident), and the resolution (the immediate response from the characters). Go deeper again if needed.

I’ve been working with this Big to Small outline since Thursday or Friday. I’m not too deep into it yet, but I have already sorted out where my weak spots are in my story; the bits that I’ve neglected which is why the whole thing keeps falling apart on me.

Here’s hoping this is FINALLY what I need to be able to hit my deadline of having this story posted by August. 🤞🤞

[lycorogue]

AO3 user auditorec:

Whomever you are, if you see this, know that I notice you tearing through my entire ML fanfic catalogue, and I love you so much for it. I cannot say so directly to you on AO3 because you don't leave comments. But I see your name repeated in my Kudos notifications. And you have warmed my heart. Thank you.

[lycorogue]

That moment when you realize your penchant to finding a single song to use as the sort of "theme song" for your story (and then the habit of listening to said song exclusively while writing to keep you in the right mindset) really skews your Spotify Wrapped stats. 😅 [laughing and sweating emoji]

Anyone care to guess how long it took (roughly) for me to write I Think I Like You (Maybe More Than I Should)? And on which day I did the majority of my writing?