Please to God use less adjectives, your writing is great but it's so hard to focus under the dozen filler words between every relevant action.
…this blog is mostly abandoned, but thank you! i’ll keep that in mind in my future writing. not much i can do about the stuff i’ve already posted tho, sorry. :U
iiiii wasn’t going to add to this, but in defense of anon:
i do appreciate being told what people think could be better about my work. it always kind of bites, but it makes me think.
not things like ships or subject matter or characterization (deeply irritating and unhelpful, don’t crit that please), but practical things like ‘i’m getting lost in all these adjectives’ and ‘more emotional resolution would be nice maybe’ are good reminders to take a good hard look at the words i’m typing. especially now that i don’t have a regular beta. it doesn’t mean that i’ll follow it to the letter, or even in spirit, but i’m here to get better, and stuff like this helps.
also this ask is two weeks old and sent regarding fic i wrote over a year ago. distance = good in this regard. i didn’t even realize it had been sent until yesterday because i haven’t been on tumblr much.
with as much distance as i do have, i can compare and contrast my current writing with my old writing to see what i’ve done with that particular aspect of my skills. i haven’t done that with this bit of concrit yet, but i will soon. i know that i myself find myself getting lost sometimes with all the clauses and etc in places, so this is a good kick in the butt to start fixing it when i see it. i really honestly do find that valuable. i’m not saying i want to be ripped to shreds, but the occasional technical pointer h e l p s.
tl;dr i appreciate gentle crit, it’s much more useful to me to receive crit on old works because it hurts less and i can measure if i’ve improved in that regard before taking the advice to heart, and my pride isn’t ruined by this, but i appreciate the concern. ^^;
Please to God use less adjectives, your writing is great but it's so hard to focus under the dozen filler words between every relevant action.
...this blog is mostly abandoned, but thank you! i’ll keep that in mind in my future writing. not much i can do about the stuff i’ve already posted tho, sorry. :U
Do you by any chance have a list of all the works you wrote on Ao3 as a-miiraculer?? Now that you've taken them over as clairelutra I can't seem to find them, and I'd love to read them all!!!
hmmmm i’ll see if i can track them down myself and stick them in a series o/
Do you by any chance have a list of all the works you wrote on Ao3 as a-miiraculer?? Now that you've taken them over as clairelutra I can't seem to find them, and I'd love to read them all!!!
hmmmm i’ll see if i can track them down myself and stick them in a series o/
Hi there. Long time fan here, love your work <3 I’m subscribed to you on AO3 so in light of the recent mass update, I was wondering why you took on a-miiraculer’s works? I mean have they quit writing, or quit the fandom? Are you both the same person and I didn’t know???? (Ignore that I’m trying to be funny lol) I’m more curious than anything, out of all the fanfic authors I enjoyed your and their works the best. Anyway, you can answer or not or just tell me you’d rather not say
….i know you were trying to be funny, but, uh :’D
(a-miiraculer was my coping mechanism through an incredibly rough time. i’m laying most of my ladybug works to rest and figured it was time to lay the pseud to rest too.)
(also because i had 48 ladybug works on ao3 and it was driving my minor ocd crazy, and i thought i had 22 works on a-miiraculer… only i got the numbers wrong. i now have 74 total ladybug works and that’s worse somehow :’D)
a pinch-hit valentine for Basil, aka @cry-a-tivity, for @ml-valentines! i hope you enjoy this very rainy ladynoir valentines day, and sorry it’s so late v.v
"Hey Chat?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think I like Valentine's Day anymore."
Chat chucked wetly, then sunk lower against the dirty stucco behind him with a muffled groan, his section of overhang only just protecting his face from the downpour.
They were sprawled across from one another in a semi-private nook high above the local marketplace, catching their breath as the rain came down on them in sheets.
There had been four akuma today, and the sun was only just now touching the horizon. With the sheer volume of couples going out for dates tonight, Ladybug didn't doubt that there would be more to come. She didn't know what Hawkmoth was up to today, but if he could stop for long enough for her to catch a nap, she'd really appreciate it.
"Did you have plans?" he asked, idly curious in the way of small talk.
"Yes," she said acidly, and ignored the way Chat sat bolt upright into the rain to stare at her in shock. "I had a very nice date planned with my bed."
Chat snorted in surprise, then relaxed, chuckling as he wiped his bangs out of his eyes. "Sounds romantic."
"A match made in heaven," Ladybug agreed, eyeing the meter-thick wall of rain that separated their respective shelters. There wasn't enough room under her overhang to protect her legs, so she hadn't bothered—the rain felt pretty nice pattering down on her suit anyway. "I haven't slept in thirty-eight hours."
The corner of Chat's mouth twitched, his eyes glowing neon-green in the cloud-dimmed early sunset. "Absence does make the heart grow fonder."
Ladybug whined in the back of her throat, then contemplated the grey sky above them. She knew Tikki did something to her through the suit, something to make the falls hurt less and to keep her from wearing out during hard battles, but Marinette's thirty-eight hours were starting to make themselves known through Ladybug's nigh-invulnerability.
"Do you think... if I just slept here..."
"On the ground?" Chat said, amused. "In the rain?"
"Yeah," Ladybug replied, too dazed to fully register that she was being teased. The rain sounded pretty nice, actually.
The ground was filthy, years' worth of grit and dust and smoggy residue left untouched except by rain and sleet and her and Chat's own two feet, and Ladybug's gut really should be crawling at the thought of it touching her face, but really...
She was just that tired.
She tipped sideways, tucking her legs against the wall on her left and thinking of the valentine she'd left on her desk that morning—she'd been called out by Chat to finish the akuma he'd worn down before she'd even changed, much less gotten to school. The note had been addressed to Adrien, a futile, sentimental little hope after all this time.
No, Ladybug's only plan really had been to sleep through the day. Sentiment could wait until she had a solid eight-to-twelve hours under her belt.
"Wake me up when the next akuma comes around," she yawned in Chat's general direction.
Chat's only response was another snort, which was summarily ignored.
Pillowing her head on her wrists, Ladybug found that there was a problem with this new position: the rain splashed in the puddles it had formed, and, shelter or no, her face was right in the worst of the dirty, dusty splatters.
Gross.
Grumpily, she awkwardly placed her arm between her face and the mess. It didn't do much, but it kept her mouth and nose safe, and that would have to do—now that she was horizontal, she found that she was really too tired to move.
And so it did, for long enough for her to start drifting far, far away, the rain a soothing staccato in her tired ears. Her bicep drifted back to a more natural position as she lost the coordination to keep it up, but that was a distant trouble. Who cared about a bit of dirt on the nose when there was sleep to be had?
That was, of course, when a fleck of dirt large enough to be irritating landed almost inside her nostril, and she winced.
Okay, maybe the dirt was worth paying attention to.
Before she could make up her mind to move, the sound of the rain... shifted somehow, and then there was a much larger, thicker splash.
Ladybug yelped as she got a face full of it, jerking back to squint at the source, and then almost yelped again with a much more visceral kind of surprise.
Chat was... very much closer than he had been before.
And sure, she didn't exactly mind him in her space anymore, but it was still a little nerve-wracking to find herself nose-to-nose with him.
He was laying on his side, blocking the rain splatters with broad chest and the long, lean lines of his body.
"Wha—...?" Ladybug managed around her sluggish tongue, glancing at the arm he had braced against the wall behind her head rather than face his stomach-churningly fond smirk head-on. "What are you doing?"
She sure felt awake now.
"Protecting you from the rain?" Chat huffed, discordantly casual and normal against the electricity pooling in Ladybug's abdomen. "Is that any way to talk to your valentine?"
Ladybug poked his chest, her tired bones aching. "And who said you were my valentine?"
(As warm as her face suddenly felt and how unsleepy she suddenly was, she couldn't help but notice that this position was notably more comfortable without the rain trying to sneak up her nose.)
"Hmm..." said Chat, his warm breath brushing cool over her cheek, "that's a no, I guess?"
"It's not like you ever asked, dork."
There was a beat, and then Chat said, amused, "Will you be my valentine?"
Ladybug's toes curled against the wall as she struggled not to show any particular reaction on her face. She wasn't sure if she always wanted to hear Chat's voice like this or never hear it again. "I dunno... What's in it for me?"
Chat scoffed, still in that low, intimate tone that made her want to squirm. "What, I'm not enough for you? Nor my rain-protection services?"
"Well," Ladybug allowed, "your rain-protection services are pretty good."
Chat squinted at her. "...Was that an insult?"
Ignoring that, Ladybug flashed him an angelic smile. "Alright, tiger. I'll be your valentine."
A funny combination of looks crossed over his face, like he wasn't quite sure what had just happened and wasn't sure if he should be insulted or delighted or... something else. "...Good."
Suitably satisfied with her upper hand, Ladybug snuggled close and ignored the plume of heat it triggered in her thighs and the pit of her belly. She rested her head on his bicep, finding it a much more comfortable level of elevation for her neck, and tucked herself under his chin.
"Now wake me up when the next akuma turns up," she instructed.
Another small moment of hesitation, and then Chat pulled back just far enough to press warm lips to her sopping bangs. "Okay," he promised roughly.
Thrilled right down to her toes, Ladybug decided that sleep was the best defense, and gave herself over to it with everything she had.
She still didn't think she liked Valentine's Day very much, but, well.
Hey, have you been okay? You haven't posted in a while. I know you are just busy/lost interest but I just want to let you know that I hope you are doing okay and not having too rough of a time or anything. You are really cool.
thank you for the concern!
this summer… hasn’t been kind, whoops. anhedonia and severe exhaustion hit hard without school to make sure i stay on track with my health, and i’ve just… sort of been working on staying afloat;;
(read: the inside of my head sounds like a vaporwave soundtrack that’s playing in another room, and no amount of stimulants/sleeping pills seem to be giving me the power to chase a train of thought for long enough to put words in a doc.)
i’m hoping school structure will knock some semblance of life into me, but unless my situation changes, this blog is probably going to remain on hiatus until then;;
There wasn’t really a good way to broach the subject, but Ladybug was at the end of her rope. Desperate times and desperate measures and all that, you know.
“So, theoretically, if a girl wanted to catch a guy’s eye, how do you think she should do that?”
Chat, whom she’d bribe-trapped in place with a panini, looked up from his sandwich to frown at her. “Do what now?”
“You know,” said Ladybug, folding her arms under her breasts and leaning forward as she cocked her head coquettishly, “what’s your favorite... seduction technique?”
He didn’t so much as glance down, instead giving her a mulish look and stuffing his mouth with the sandwich. He looked away, chewing and swallowing before saying, “And you’re asking me this because...?”
Ladybug leaned to the side, twisting to give her partner a better view of her assets, and went ignored once again. She sighed. “...Because nothing I’m trying is working.”
“Yeah, but why me? Don’t you have other friends for this sort of thing?”
Because if anyone would know how to seduce you, it would probably be you. “Why not you?”
The look he gave her then said that this was an incredibly dumb question, and he was mildly shocked she’d even faced him with it.
Ladybug puffed her cheeks at him.
“Beeeeecause I’m biased?” he suggested.
“Not biased enough,” she grumbled under her breath.
He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Nothing.”
Chat sighed. “Just... wear skimpy clothes—” Not with her jumpsuit she couldn’t. “—blink a lot—” She’d tried that. “—pretend to drop something just so you can pick it up—” ...Now there was an idea. “—do I look like an expert here?”
Ladybug leaned over casually, allowing her elbow to unbalance a bottle in the centerpiece. The bottle flopped over and rolled away obligingly.
Ladybug belatedly realized that it was rolling away a little too obligingly, and if it hit the cobblestone patio, it would probably shatter on impact.
Her heart lurched into her mouth as she lurched after it, and she ended up sprawled out over the table before it was in her hand. Releasing a little sigh of relief when it was safe in her hand, she peeked back over her shoulder to find Chat slowly raising an eyebrow.
“...Everything okay there, ‘Bug?”
She wriggled her backside experimentally.
The eyebrow went a little higher.
“...No, I don’t think so.”
He patted her back sympathetically.
Ladybug appreciated the gesture. With her luck in picking ‘em, she needed it desperately.
It took Adrien a good three years to realize why Marinette was so familiar.
Which was kind of tragic, really, because how many people like that do you meet in a lifetime?
It just... didn’t occur to him to wonder how she could pick up on all his little signals, how she could know that one head-tilt meant ‘it’s that way’ and that another could mean ‘I’m thinking’ and still another could mean ‘I respectfully disagree,’ or how she could tell them all apart unerringly, with or without context.
It didn’t occur to him to wonder why a slight tilt of her shoulders made as much sense as plain speech, or why hearing a slight edge in her laugh had him rubbing her back and thinking about how best to go about getting comfort food without conscious decision, or why he knew the punchlines to all her jokes—even the ones he hadn’t heard from her before.
He’d felt like they were made for each other time and time again, so that it took him three whole years to realize that maybe they were the ones who’d built that relationship was...
Was something.
And to think that all it took to tip the balance was a quiet, grumbling, “Well, better than waking up to an akuma, I guess.”
Adrien, who was once Chat, stood in the middle of the living room he shared with his soon-to-be-wife, covered head-to-toe in soot, fire alarm screeching in his ears.
He let out a faint croak of, “What?”
“Better than waking up to an akuma, I said,” Marinette repeated louder, and plucked her way through the mess, dressed in nothing but the shirt Adrien had been wearing last night.
Adrien, now realizing that the maybe-goddess walking towards him actually walked in an incredibly familiar way, could only gape.
“How did you even manage this?” his girlfriend-partner-oh-god-Ladybug mumbled as she reached up and dusted the remains of his attempt at breakfast off his head.
“Ah,” said Adrien.
“What?”
“Ah.”
Marinette wrinkled her nose at him, and cupped his face. “Everything okay?”
Ladybug put her fingers to her temple, fighting the odd combination of warmth that that had been his first thought, and irritation that that had been his first thought. “No.“
“But—”
“No. No murder.”
Chat subsided in bad grace, sinking back into his seat with a face pale around his mask. “He’d deserve it.”
“I don’t think people need to die for cheating, Chat.”
It was kind of a relief to say that, in some strange way. Her chest felt like like a mirror that had been dropped on its corner—jagged and sharp and other—but putting the hurt into plain terms made it... comprehensible, somehow.
Someone she’d been considering getting serious about had betrayed her. It hurt like all get out, but that was all it was—a betrayal.
Chat’s face was drawn, blank, and Ladybug wasn’t sure how, but she was pretty sure he was taking this harder than she was. He raised a hand, hesitating for a second before drawing her into a rough hug.
“...You didn’t deserve that,” he mumbled helplessly.
Ladybug swallowed the lump in her throat, turning her nose into the junction of his shoulder and letting the smell of sweat and cologne and leather unknot the tension in her body. She reflected that, for as much as she’d adored her erstwhile boyfriend, she was never relaxed while he was around.
Maybe that should’ve been a sign.
“Think you could do better?” she mumbled back, and realized too late that it was too sharp, too raw, too soon for a question like that—it came out bitter, instead of joking.
Chat’s hand tightened convulsively around her shoulder.
“...I do.”
Ladybug shut her eyes, and took it as the reproach she wanted to believe it was. “Sorry. That was...”
“...It’s okay.”
It wasn’t, and she could hear it in his voice, but the jumble of pain in her chest was keeping her from seeing how to fix it. She’d have to figure out how to make it up to him later.
For now, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, and let the tears escape her.
Ladybug was just considering the pros and cons of getting up to find her suit when she heard it.
‘It’ was a soft rumble from the bed next to her. The noise was lower than she’d ever heard any feline purr, but it was, quite unmistakably, a purr.
Turning her head, she found her mess of a partner right where she left him, mask half-visible behind the pillow and love-bitten shoulders, sweat drying between the scratch marks her nails had left on the smooth, sinuous planes of his back.
The sound was most definitely coming from him.
He must’ve sensed her looking at him, because one green eye cracked open, his head turning to allow his gaze to reach her. “Mmh?”
The not-word grated over the purr like city cars grated over off-road tracks, and Ladybug found herself swallowing at how sated he sounded.
She’d done that.
It wasn’t the first time she’d done it, but there was something very special about doing it in a bed, she thought. She hadn’t expected to love this—to love being able to take their time with each other—so much.
Impulsively, she ducked down, nudging at him until he rolled back far enough for her to tuck herself underneath him. They were both sticky and gross and it was kind of making her want to stay like this always, which made no sense, but Ladybug wasn’t always in the business of making sense, so it was okay.
“What?” he rasped, his voice still purr-distorted and now holding suppressed laughter, too, and Ladybug felt the afterglow suffusing her body start to spark again.
It occurred to her, as she hitched her thighs open around his, that beds had another thing over alleyways and abandoned corners—they made it much easier to go for round two.
“Just... wanted this,” she mumbled in response to his question, tipping her head back and kissing his vibrating adam’s apple. The vibrations dulled by the time they got to his chest, she found, but that was okay. The sound alone was doing enough for her. “‘Wanted you.”
His breath hitched, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back, bare skin and dull, human nails on her skin. “...Oh.”
“Mm,” Ladybug agreed, swallowing again.
It never failed to get her, how gutted he always sounded when she said it.
The purr, she noted, was getting louder.
His hand dragged up her back, and she squirmed deliciously at the tingles that skittered in its wake. “S-so, uh.”
“Hm?” he rumbled, kissing her hairline.
She squirmed again, more pointedly this time, and it earned her a floored little laugh.
“Again?” he asked, shaken and wanting, and Ladybug was going to fuck that tentative note right out of him one day, she swore.
In the meantime, she thumped her heel against the back of his calf. “Say that after round four, not before round two.”
His laugh was realer then, the kiss he caught her in hot and getting hungrier, and Ladybug left the rest of her battles to be fought another day.
Patrol on foggy nights was always a surreal experience. Rain and snow required caution (roofs got slippery), sun could be endured (though breaks were necessary sometimes), but fog...
Fog made everything dull and distant and private and dream-like, and Chat loved it almost as much as it terrified him.
There was something incredibly intimate about hearing Ladybug laugh in close quarters while the world faded away from them both — the sort of intimacy Chat craved, but also the sort of intimacy he didn't think he'd been granted quite yet.
Ladybug stuck closer on foggy nights, close enough that he never had a problem tracking her. There were a hundred possible reasons for that, a couple of very likely reasons, and every single one made his stomach twist and his face warm if he thought about it too long.
"...Chat?"
His head jerked up, registering Ladybug's voice coming from farther than he'd last heard her footsteps, and then registering the strain in the question that suggested 'panic.' "Ladybug?"
(Here he was, getting all twisted up over an innocent little gesture while his partner vanished — nice job, hero.)
"Chat," she repeated, tone easing in relief. "Where'd you go?"
"Uhhh... hm," said Chat, unthinkingly trying to keep the stream of noise up, "Third roof next to the spire on the west side of the tower. Where are you?"
"Oh," she sighed, and there was that intimacy again, knotting in his stomach and fluttering in his chest. "Coming at you from twelve o'clock. Incoming!"
The fog muffled the noise of her yo-yo, which meant that the only warning he had was a very faint click and snkt before Ladybug was landing a few paces away and stumbling over something on the roof.
Chat found her in his arms, her head at a level with his shoulder, her fingers curled tension-tight around his bicep.
"Don't disappear like that," she chided, breathless. "How'm I supposed to find you again?"
Out of Chat's slurry of maybe-reasons for Ladybug sticking so close rose she's scared of losing him, and Chat was grateful to the extra dark night for covering up the flush that was making his ears burn.
The screen and the silence and the intimacy stilled the teasing why, would you miss me, my lady? on his tongue as he rested a hand on her back and set her upright.
By the time she was dusting herself off and rubbing her arms, all that was left was a quiet promise of, "...I'll stick close."
She smiled gratefully, soft and warm and barely visible, and if Chat didn't have many words left that night, maybe he could be forgiven for that.
The very first time they sparred, Ladybug gave Chat Noir a black eye — or, she would have, if their suits allowed it, but that was neither here nor there.
What did happen was a loud, surprised yowl cut through the air as the kitty in question staggered back and fell, hands over his nose, and the very strange mneeryep!! that escaped Ladybug's throat in reaction.
"Ohmigod are you okay?!"
"Mnngh," Chat groaned, looking very confused as he scrubbed his nose. "That... didn't hurt?"
"...What."
"Ow," he grumbled despite his words, squinting at the ground and then at his hand in consternation. "Isn't that supposed to hurt?"
...Well, Kim had said it hurt, back when they were ten. Kim had said that she had the best right hook he'd ever seen.
"Yes," she said, rather testily.
Ladybug didn't know why her new partner being so much less impressed stung like this, but sting it did.
Chat looked up at her with a healthy amount of fear. "Um. Did you mean it to hurt?"
"We're punching each other!" she squawked shrilly. "I'm— I mean, n-not to hurt but... Wait."
Chat's fear seemed to only grow.
"Were you pulling your punches?"
"No? I-I mean yes?! I-I mean, maybe!" he stammered, arms thrown up over his head. He peeked around them and slowly relaxed when it didn't seem like she was inclined to continue practicing that right hook on him. "This is just sparring! Practice! What if I hurt y—"
A reason which might have flown if she hadn't heard it from every single male newcomer to her dojo.
It got old fast.
"An akuma isn't going to pull its punches, come on, Chat," she half-whined, wondering why there was a lump sitting in her throat.
Chat, horror of horrors, seemed to hear that.
"I... no, I didn't mean—" he fumbled, looking even more consternated, and then sighed, looking thoughtful as he rubbed his nose.
Ladybug folded her arms under her chest.
Then, to her surprise, Chat sized her up and said, "Sorry."
Ladybug's arms came loose as she was startled into really looking at him.
"I didn't mean to offend you," he offered. "I really did think we were just practicing. Of course we would pull our punches..." He touched his nose again with a wry look. "Or not."
Ladybug's slump was half defeat and half guilt. "Sorry for, um, punching you in the nose."
A moment of hesitation, a smile that made her stomach flip, and Chat asked her for a hand up.
"Tell you what," he said as she gave him one, hand startlingly large and strong in hers, "I'll stop pulling my punches and you stop aiming for the face, and we'll call it even."
Ladybug's face was hot with the sting of embarrassment as she righted her partner, mumbling, "Works for me."
(It was certainly more than she’d ever gotten from her taekwondo partners, that was for sure.)
The burst of butterflies in her stomach as Chat grinned at her had nothing to do with said grin, or so she told herself for months afterwards.
One of the best things about being friends with Ladybug was that he could take her just about anything he was into, and she’d either know it and love it, not know it and love it anyway, or he’d find out that it was something she’d loved a long time ago and absolutely hated now.
Of course, she didn’t always love it, but the times when his latest obsession didn’t click with her were few and far between — even when Max and Nino dismissed whatever it was out of hand.
“All my friends hate it,” Chat groaned, lying on his back with his feet dangling over the edge of the roof, frowning at the star-speckled sky. “And I don’t get why! Sure, the controls aren’t great, but—”
“Ha!”
Chat shot up, wind hitting his face without the headrush that would normally come with a move like that (thank you, Plagg). “Did you get it?”
Ladybug brandished the handheld with a smug grin. “Suck it.”
Chat caught sight of the score and whistled, impressed. “That’s amazing.”
“Your friends just aren’t good enough, obviously,” she said, ponytails bouncing as she tossed her head. “Or maybe I’m just awesome.”
Chat snickered. “Modest, too.”
“Of course!” She leaned over and grabbed gently at the handheld, saying “I’m almost to the boss, I can feel it,” by way of explanation.
Chat surrendered it without a fight. “The boss is awful, I’m warning you now.”
“Shhhhh,” Ladybug hissed, booting up the next level with a barely smothered grin. “It just hasn’t met me yet.”
