#chrwrites

[chrwrites]

I posted two little fics today! Will post them on Tumblr tomorrow but you can read them here:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[nerdypanda3126]

Hey Panda what if I asked all the kisses? They're all so cute 😭 no really I'm gonna go with the obvious and say "an adoring kiss because the other is rambling" bc it screams Lukanette! Have fun, can't wait to see what you'll create 😘

Don't tempt me, these are so much fun 😊 thanks for the ask! 💖

"But see, that's what makes it so difficult because you go from here—" Luka arranged his fingers on the strings in what looked like a spread eagle "—to here—" His fingers slid up the neck of the guitar and he repositioned them. "And back, but with a different chord on the last note—" The strings whined as he slipped his hand back and settled his fingers again.

"And it's all in cut time," he continued, "so at tempo it goes like this—" His hands moved so quickly Marinette barely caught it. "See?" he asked, finally looking up at her, more proud of himself for getting it than anything else. She only smiled back at him. He was adorable when he was excited.

He chuckled sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. "You didn't understand any of that, did you?"

She giggled with him. "No," she admitted. Then she wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled him over to kiss him. He made a small, surprised "mmph" noise, but then his guitar twanged in his lap as he leaned into her.

Kissing Luka—kissing her boyfriend—was so… different than she'd ever thought it'd be. It was warm, and soft, and nice. And every time they kissed, she swore she could hear the music in his heart, if only for a moment.

When she let him go, there was a pink tinge to his ears and a dazed smile on his face. She was pretty sure she was blushing, too.

"I think it's cute, though," she said.

Send me a kiss!

[verfound]

Oh You're Vocal? 👀

I think you mean "Oh, You're...Vocal". 🤣 Perfectly innocent comments never stay innocent for long 'round here.

I made this observation about how, in smutfic, we always see Luka trying to make Marinette screa/moan/etc. Like it's always "I want to hear you", "sing for me", etc. (It's not at all a critique - I've done it myself - just an observation.) Which lead to me wondering...what if Luka was the moaner? #MakeLukaScream

(Nothing explicit under the cut - T at best. It's barely M territory yet.)

The first time it happened was purely an accident. It was unintentional. Luka had just been having a tough week, and was really stressed out, and he’d been carrying all of that stress in his shoulders – so Marinette had done what any kind, considerate girlfriend with a passing knowledge of massages would do.

She’d offered him a backrub.

And it had been perfectly innocent. Luka was tense, and she’d wanted him to release some of that tension. So she’d laid him down on his bed, crawled up next to him, and began kneading the palms of her hands into his painfully tight shoulders. She hadn’t even had him take his shirt off – there had been no ulterior motive, honestly!

Except…

Maybe two minutes in…

His head had flopped to the side, his cheek resting on the arms bent over his pillow, and…moaned.

She didn’t even think he’d realized he’d done it.

Her hands had stilled against his back all the same, freezing in place as he melted against his mattress. She watched, wide-eyed, as his brow furrowed. He popped open an eye and glanced back at her, frowning.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked. She swallowed thickly and forced a smile, shaking her head as she bit her lip and pressed her hands back into his shoulders.

“N-nothing,” she said, her cheeks warming as he laid his head back down. “Just relax, ok?”

“O…oooooh,” he moaned, pressing his face into his bicep as she continued to work. She nearly slipped, her hands pushing a bit harder then she meant to in her shock – not that he seemed to mind. “God, you’re good at this…”

“Th-thank you,” she squeaked, and once again he was popping open an eye to glance at her, but she just smiled and continued the massage. And he just dropped his head back against his arms, moaning again as she worked out a particularly tense spot, and she was definitely not getting turned on by that, no way, no how, no…

“Oh my God, Marinette, what the hell are you doing to my brother?” Juleka’s disgusted voice came from the door, and Marinette squeaked as she leapt away from Luka and flattened herself against the wall. Luka’s eyes were open again and glaring at his sister, who just glared back from the door. Beside her, Rose was silently squealing into her fists. “Fucking gross. In my own room.”

“My room,” Luka said, as if they didn’t share and that fact needed clarifying. He nodded towards her side. “That half’s yours.”

“I-I-I was just giving him a m-massage!” Marinette rushed out. “B-because he’s so tense!”

“He didn’t sound tense,” Juleka sniffed. She grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her from the room. “C’mon, Rose. We don’t need to be here for this. Disgusting.”

“Have fun, you two!” Rose called, and Marinette groaned as she dropped back against the wall. She cracked open an eye when she heard Luka snickering, and she glanced down to find he was watching her, his eyes dancing in delight. She could tell he was smiling, even though his mouth was pressed against his bicep to muffle his laughter. She lightly kicked at his side, though that just made him laugh more.

“Hey, darning?” he asked after a long moment, after they were certain the others weren’t coming back. He reached out and curled his fingers around her ankle, rubbing soothing circles along the top of her foot. “Can…can you keep going? I was really enjoying that.”

She swallowed again, the ghosts of his moans echoing in her ears, and mutely nodded. She’d been enjoying it, too…

[peachcitt]

Female pop punk/alt artists recs: Stand Atlantic, PVIRS, Hot Milk, Muna, YONAKA, Maggie Lindemann and Lizzy Farrall 😊

omg yes!! ive actually seen stand atlantic live when they were opening for one of my other favorite bands - i think the same with PVRIS, but it’s been a while

[verfound]

What is More Than a Checkbox about? 👀

Sex. 😂 No, seriously.

So @fenheart87, ages ago, gave this prompt: angsty ish. Marinette goes to luka to lose her v card before college. When asked why she responds, "I trust you to show me how to make love and not just fuck me. I want to feel loved at least once."

And it was supposed to be a short, simple, PWP piece, but then it caught feelings ("Feelings? In MY smut? ...it's more likely than you think!" 😘). This was back when I was first starting to set up my lemonade stand, so it was also supposed to be an exercise in writing smut. And then the next thing I knew, I was 10k in and the eejits were still just fighting about why Marinette was going to Luka and what the fuck, Marinette.

The full title is "More Than a Checkbox on a Stupid List", and it's three parts long. The first part is "The Proposition of Luka Couffaine" (where Marinette hatches this plan to ask Luka to help her lose her virginity and he does not react the way she thought he would), part two is "The Wooing of Marinette Dupain-Cheng" (where they have two or three weeks before Luka has to go on tour again and he's determined to do things the Right Way and actually date her before he has sex with her), and part three is the "The Fucking of Marinette Dupain-Cheng" (where he comes back from tour and they don't leave his room for an entire weekend).

And you may have just bumped this way up on my list, because I really loved this idea, went rabid writing P1, and haven't actually touched it since...

(Nothing explicit under the cut, but they are discussing things - so M?)

“Actually, you know what?” she said, her voice a little higher and faster than normal. She cleared her throat and slapped a too-bright smile on her face. “I think I would like some coffee.”

When he lifted his head and looked at her through half-lidded eyes, her heart almost stopped entirely. It was almost enough to make her rethink her plan – almost. She swallowed and looked down, her cheeks warming under his gaze. She was eighteen now, damn it. A legal adult. She could handle something as simple as having sex with someone without letting feelings get in the way.

…she hoped.

“One coffee, coming up,” he said, grabbing his own mug before heading to the counter along the wall.

“Th-thanks,” she said, wincing at her stutter. She cleared her throat, and he hummed in response before taking a sip of his own coffee.

“So what brings you over, Ma-Ma-Marinette?” he asked, reaching into the cabinet for another mug. She rolled her eyes at his gentle teasing and took a deep, steadying breath. It was now or never. “Not that I’m not happy to see you – I’m always happy to see –”

“I want to lose my virginity,” she said in a rush. The mug slipped from his fingers and fell to the counter, bouncing off the ledge before it smashed on the floor.

“O-ok?” he asked. He almost sounded like he was choking. His back was to her, but she could see his fingers flexing as they gripped the counter. His shoulders had become suddenly tense, his arms stiff as he leaned forward.

“And I want you to help me do it,” she continued. Her voice was steadier this time, firmer. More certain.

“…o-ok?” he repeated, and he was definitely choking that time. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands. She picked at her thumb while she waited for him to respond. When it seemed like he wouldn’t, she looked back up to find he was cleaning up the broken mug. His back was still to her.

“Luka?” she called. She cleared her throat when her voice came out too quiet. He stopped picking up shards of mug. “It would…be kinda great if you said something.”

“Sorry,” he sighed, dropping the pieces of mug he’d been picking up and bringing his hands up to rub at his face. “Processing.”

“There’s not much to process,” she said with a (slightly nervous) laugh.

“There’s a hell of a lot to process, Marinette,” he bit back, and she winced at his tone. She hadn’t expected him to sound…angry. “Jesus Christ. I have not had enough coffee for this.”

“Ok, trying not to be hurt,” she laughed weakly. He slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself up, forgetting the broken mug and turning to lean on the counter across from her. He folded his hands together and hung his head, taking a few deep breaths. His hands were so tense his knuckles were blanching.

“You want to have sex,” he said, his head still down and eyes closed. She nodded, and when she realized he wouldn’t be able to see that she cleared her throat.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“With me,” he continued.

“Yes,” she said again. He looked up, an utterly blank and unreadable expression on his face. She would almost say guarded, except there was nothing for Luka to be guarded about.

“…why?” he asked. He sounded absolutely baffled. She blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Um…” she started, trying not to laugh again. How had this become so awkward? It wasn’t supposed to be awkward. It was just Luka. It was supposed to be straightforward, simple, and easy. It was supposed to be…Luka. “Why sex or why you?”

“Yes,” he said. She raised her eyebrows, and he groaned as he dropped his face against the counter. His voice was muffled when he continued. “Both. What the fucking hell, Marinette?”

…ok. She had pissed him off somehow.

“It’s not a big deal –” she huffed. She was suddenly feeling very defensive and a little angry herself. She looked down at her lap, smoothing out the skirt of the dress she had worn.

“It’s a very big deal!” he snapped. He winced at the look she shot him and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just…help me understand this. I’m not…I’m not saying no. I’m just trying to understand.”

“There’s not a lot to understand,” she snapped. “I’m sick of being a virgin and want to have sex. I trust you, Luka. I trust that you’d show me how it’s supposed to be done. Not just…fuck me.”

The strangled sound he tried to choke down made her raise her eyebrows a bit higher. She looked away and pushed out a breath, crossing her arms over her chest. The move felt defensive, like she was trying to protect herself – from what, though? This was Luka. Her friend. Her good friend. Her good friend that she had maybe been a bit in love with for a long time now, but her good friend all the same. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her – that was part of the reason she had come to him for this! He…he…

“I trust you, Luka,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I want you to show me what it’s like to make love. I just…I want to feel loved. At least once.”

The nerves had disappeared from her gut, replaced by something worse. Something unpleasant and twisted and awful. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Luka was supposed to laugh at her for being dumb, or agree without any argument. Because they were friends, and they trusted each other. Because he was older and wiser and more mature, and he had already done this. He had already had those experiences. So he would get it, and he would have no problem teaching her.

She squeaked when he was suddenly crushing her to his chest. She hadn’t heard him move until he was right beside her, and then he had gathered her up in his arms and tugged her close. His hand cupped the back of her head and gently guided it to his shoulder, and she shivered as he pressed his lips to her crown and stayed there. Her arms found the familiar path around him, winding up his back and fisting his shirt in her hands. She listened to him breathing, following his lead like she’d done so many times before until their deep, steady breaths were in sync. He pursed his lips against her head, kissing her firmly, before he pulled back and dropped his face against her shoulder. He squeezed his arms around her.

“You are loved, Marinette,” he said, his voice thick with an emotion she was too afraid to place. “You are so loved. How do you not know that?"

“That’s not…that’s not what I meant, Luka,” she mumbled. He pulled away, his hand sliding from the back of her head to cup her jaw. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, his eyes moving along her face as he studied her. She swallowed, her eyes dropping from his own, and he sighed.

“Then tell me what you mean,” he said. His hand flexed against her face, and then he was sitting on the stool next to her. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, and watched her. “Explain to me exactly what you mean, because I don’t understand at all. And I…I need to understand before I say anything.”

“You’re going to say no,” she said. She wondered if she sounded as bitter as she thought she did. By the way he rolled his eyes, she figured she did.

“I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes, either,” he sighed, raising an arm to rub at his eyes. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“What’s there to understand, though?” she whined. He cocked an eyebrow at that, and she crossed her arms over her chest again. “I want to have sex. I figured it would be smart to do it with someone I trusted instead of some random guy. And…I trust you.”

“I’m glad you do,” he said. There was still an edge to his voice that made her glare at him, and he sighed before hanging his head again. “I want you to trust me, Mari. I just…you want to have sex. I just want to know why. What the hell started this?”

“We were talking about it on my birthday – the girls and me,” she said. She was glaring at the microwave, her entire body stiff. “I’m the only one who hasn’t done it yet. Alya, Mylène, Juleka and Rose, even Alix – everyone but me has done it, and –”

“Ok, wait, hold on,” he groaned, holding up both hands. She looked back to him to find a grimace on his face, his eyes firmly shut. “One. Please don’t talk about Jules, Ro, and sex. I know they’re doing it, but I don’t need to know they’re doing it, ok? Two. If the only reason you want to have sex is because you’re the only virgin left in your friend group –”

“Oh my God, Luka, it’s not just that!” she huffed. She hopped off her stool, and he watched as she began pacing. His eyebrows rose. She was wringing her hands, bending her fingers back like she’d overworked them and was working out the kinks. “I’m not that stupid!”

“Good, because it really sounds like you are,” he said with a roll of his eyes. She turned back towards him and crossed her arms. Her eyes were starting to burn, just a little. She fell back on the anger and annoyance to keep herself from crying. That was a whole other level of mortification she was not prepared to deal with right now.

“Do you want to have sex or not?” she huffed. He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“That’s not the point –” he started, but she snorted.

“It pretty much is,” she scoffed. He glared at her beneath his hands.

“Could you get off the defensive for one fucking minute and talk this out with me like the mature adult you’re pretending to be?” he snapped. Her lips pressed together, and her hands balled into fists at her side. She sucked in a sharp breath. He sighed and slumped forward. “I’m sorry.”

“I should go,” she said, glancing towards the door. “This…this was a mistake. I’m sorry, too. Can we just forget I ever did this?”

“No,” he said. She jerked her head back to him, eyebrows high. He groaned, rubbing at his face again. “I am not akumatized enough for this.”

She snorted, biting down on a smile. She knew he saw it anyway when he grinned at her.

“Marinette, I just need you to talk to me,” he said. “I…I want to have sex. With you. But I need to understand why you want to do this first.”

“It’s not good enough that I want to lose with my virginity with someone I trust?” she mumbled quietly, staring at her feet.

“No, it’s not,” he sighed. “Not…not if it’s me.”

She frowned, her face scrunching in confusion.

“What…what should that matter?” she asked. “I mean…what, would you feel differently if I was asking Dingo?”

He choked, burying his face in his hands as another groan escaped him.

“You don’t even want to know what I’d feel if you asked fucking Dingo,” he huffed. She tried not to laugh at that, knowing it really wasn’t the time, but a small giggle escaped her when he lowered his hands and she saw he was grinning at her. “Promise me you won’t ask Dingo.”

“He was never even in the running,” she snorted. He sighed and nodded, still smiling. That was an improvement, at least. She picked at a loose thread on her dress (she’d have to fix that later) and bit her lip. “It…it was always you. It was only you.”

[verfound]

I'm a sucker for romcoms so I have to ask about If This Is A Romcom 👀

...Chi I fucking love you. 🤣

You on Girl with Flowers in her Bones: "Ooooh that sounds angsty!" Me: "HALLMARK WEDDING AU!" You on If This Is a Romcom: "...ROMCOM?" 👀 Me: "...you mean If This is a Romcom Why Aren't You Laughing?" 👀

Luka has the opportunity to go on tour and kickstart his career, but he doesn't want to leave Marinette. Marinette refuses to be the reason he doesn't chase his dream, so she breaks up with him - with the stipulation: "If we're both still single in a year/when you come back, we'll meet up at the Eiffel Tower and start again." It's a comedy of errors, missed opportunities, and second chances.

And somehow became a love letter to Matty Nay because his songs are all over the damn thing. 😂

“I don’t understand,” Luka said, pushing out a breath as he dragged his hands along his face. He looked up at her. Saw the tears in her eyes. Blinked, shook his head, and scrubbed at his face again. “I really don’t understand.”

“It’s for the best,” Marinette said, shuffling from foot to foot. She couldn’t look at him. Guilt was clawing at her insides. She knew this was the right thing to do, but if that was the case why did it all feel so wrong?

“Bullshit!” he snapped, bolting up from his bed. He immediately regretted the outburst when he saw her wince. “That’s…that’s bullshit, Mari. How is dumping me for the best?”

“I’m not dumping you!” she said quickly, holding up her hands in protest. He scoffed and fought the urge to kick his nightstand. His guitar was too close, and it wasn’t the guitar’s fault this was happening, after all (even if a dark part of his mind whispered that it was).

“Please explain to me how saying I think we should break up isn’t dumping me,” he said, clenching and unclenching his fist. His thumb anxiously spun the ring on his finger, and he glared out the porthole. Anything to not look at her.

“I don’t…Luka, Jagged Stone offered to take you on tour,” she said. He raised an eyebrow at her. Yeah, he knew that. That’s what had started this whole mess. “And…you need to go.”

“I already told him –” he started, but she was shaking her head.

“It’s an amazing opportunity, and I could never live with myself if you passed it up because of me,” she said.

“Then we’ll go long-distance – tons of people make that work,” he argued. He didn’t know when he had crossed the room. When he had put his hands on her shoulders, when he had reached up to wipe away the tears spilling from her eyes. “Mari, please. Don’t do this.”

“We’re so young, Luka,” she sighed. It sounded rehearsed, like she had said it in front of her mirror countless times. Preparing for this very moment. Knowing her, she probably had. “It’s…you need to focus on you right now. On your career. I need to focus on finishing lycée, and…”

The unspoken hung between them. The secret she suspected he knew but could never be spoken, for everyone’s safety.

“I don’t have to be older to know I love you,” he said fiercely, pulling her towards him. She accepted the hug too easily for someone who was trying to break up with him. “We can make this work.”

“Maybe one day,” she said, her voice wobbling, “but not now. You need to go. I need to let you go.”

“I don’t want you to,” he said. She pulled away and placed her hands on either side of his face.

“Then let’s make a deal,” she said. He pursed his lips, confused, but she was smiling at him despite her tears. “If, when you get back in a year, you still feel this way…if you’re still single, and you still love me, meet me on this day, at this time, at the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower. And we’ll start again.”

“This is our life, Marinette,” he sighed. He wondered if he sounded as tired as he suddenly felt. “This isn’t some romantic comedy.”

“This is your life, Luka,” she agreed, “and I won’t be the one holding you back.”

Funny. It had never felt like she was holding him back before.

“So you’re going to go with Jagged,” she continued, her thumb brushing beneath his eye, “and I’m going to finish lycée, and in a year…we’ll see.”

“I’ll wait,” he vowed, but she shook her head.

“That’s not fair, either,” she said, but the way she laughed made it sound like she didn’t believe that. Like she’d be waiting for him, too, despite everything she was telling him. “Live your life, Luka. I hope I can still be a part of it someday.”

– V –

A year to the day, Ladybug and Chat Noir finally defeated Hawkmoth.

It was a long battle. The fallout was worse.

And maybe, just maybe, Ladybug was too busy consoling a distraught kitty to remember a certain blue-haired boy that was waiting for a pigtailed girl on the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower with a dozen roses and a song he’d spent a year perfecting.

[verfound]

Pants Aren't RocknRoll

It's a RollingStone fic! 😁 "Jagged Stone only wears pants in public. Penny Rolling is understandably very distressed over this."

Another one that's just notes so far. It started as a joke that Jagged only wears pants in public - like he hates clothes, actually, and would rather be naked/no pants. And then it kinda turned into a "but what if he knows it drives Penny nuts and it's his horrible way of flirting with/seducing her?" It's Jagged. It's shenanigans and antics and no pants. 😂

[verfound]

GUARDIAN STONE PLEASE 😆

Ok. So. It's exactly what you think it is.

Bloods found this prompt (from PunchLord, I think?) about Fu training Jagged as a Guardian. Or maybe it was just that Guardians age and die like normal humans so Fu had to find a replacement to train before Marinette. Somehow Jagged got involved, and Quick was like "who in anything even approaching their right mind would make JAGGED a Guardian?" And at the time I was dying of that tooth infection and hopped up on painkillers, so of course I was like, "uh...ME?" (...does that make this a DQ or is this Bloody's fault? 😂)

So I only have part of an outline and summary so far: "Fu Wang can feel his time getting short. He knows he must locate an apprentice to train and pass on his Miracle Box to, but New York is a big city full of so many people. He may have found his answer in [sixteen/seventeen]-year-old Jacob Stone, though – if he can pull him away from his guitar and quest for a Sewer Gator long enough to actually teach him anything, that is…"

The idea is Fu ends up in '90s NYC, on the run and exhausted and old/dying and needing to pass on his Miracle Box. He stumbles into this deli run by an older Jewish man named Jeremiah Stone. Jeremiah offers him a sandwich and they start talking, and Jeremiah tells him how his parents came to NYC bc they were running from Nazis, and he recognizes in Fu the look of a refugee. He offers him a room and says he can work in the deli to pay for it. Calls for his son Jacob to show Fu to his room.

Jacob is tall and lanky with ripped clothes and crazy hair. He hates that his dad calls him Jacob ("Jake, please - but I dunno, I might be changing it, not very rock-n-roll, y'know? Jacob."). Has no life ambition beyond playing guitar. But he's a sweet kid, and Fu sees something in him, and so it begins.

I'm hoping to make the fic about 19 chapters. There's a prologue for where Fu ends up in NYC, a chapter where you meet Jacob, a chapter for each kwami (where Fu is "training" Jacob how to use them), and an epilogue where Guardian Stone is leaving New York. At some point I'm hoping to bring Anarka in, to show how they meet, but it's all still rough and scrambled outline notes.