fragileizywriting

[fragileizywriting]

i think the thing is because writing is a muscle (most things are) i know how to write but i don’t know What.

i haven’t written in a long time, and before it was significantly easier to write when im not feeling anything. for example, i wrote down a list as i often do, of things that i want to finish, and i had even tossed around the idea of writing halloween fics. the problem is, ive got nothing. my days have been monotonous and lame, and ive been very rarely found any inspiration. and i just can’t find a way to bluff about it.

i took a look at a halloween prompt month— not kinktober, god no, please let me do something simple— and none of the words are working with me. it’s like i’m stuck in mud. the urge to write is definitely here. i can feel it coming back. the heartbeat is so weak, though. i gotta tend to it with small goals. i just can’t figure out how. i want my groove back >:(

[fragileizywriting]

oh yeah i posted today

[fragileizywriting]

i do think that maybe the fandom has died down, but i'll be honest with you, i wasn't writing miraculous ladybug to attract the standard populous anyway. i wish . god, i wish. everyone wants to be fan-fucking tastic and like, the #1 ao3 creator when they write. but that was never going to happen for me, and that was fine.

writing my fics really truly has been for me , more and more. and i am okay with that. truly okay with it. but then again i haven't written in forever, so

[fragileizywriting]

good afternoon everybody

i took a look at my ao3 today and i saw that i had a six-month gap in between uploads. i guess you can say that i am actually having some kind of problem kek

it's like, i don't even know how to explain it. when i get here and type out the words "i'm sorry i haven't been updating so much, it's just that i've kinda got nothing in my brain right now," i just kinda realize just how that's not true? i do have stuff going on in my brain. sort of. i want to write. or maybe i just want to be good at something. getting a job just has ruined my thinking flow. i don't even remember the last time i actually had the time to think.

why is it that sundday afternoon i always remember that i exist— (i could tell you why, but that would be antithetical to a vent post, now wouldn't it)—

[fragileizywriting]

i positive that the two of them aren’t couch potatoes in the slightest, right

kitty has zoomies and luka definitely goes to the gym and is active. the two of them move around. but man do i just want to think about the two of them curling up in bed with one another, getting into a two-man puppy pile, feeling oh so comfortable. i’m back to being touch starved

[fragileizywriting]

i read a random chapter of demon lovin yesterday before taking a nap and that was so nice and so fun

am i alive? whooooooboyyyy i am now!!

[fragileizywriting]

sorry everyone i've forgotten what it's like to write, writing is a muscle and i have not excersized this in such a long time

[fragileizywriting]

they're almost in the thick of it, the true get down on your knees and take it type of moment, when luka pulls away and quiets and blinks at her in some type of manner that has her staring back at him with muted confusion.

"i have a confession," luka states, breath hot and liquid against her bangs, adjusting his elbows so that he isn't pressing all of his weight against her. the necklaces wrapped around his thick neck dangle in between them both, glinting in the low, subdued light.

marinette does nothing but blink. should she close her legs? is this a closed-legs moment? what's the play, here? she's confused but not to the point where she's going to listen to that soft little voice in the back of her head that whispers: uh oh. we've done something wrong. that alpha looks concerned-- it must've been something we did.

"y-yeah?"

"i took the gas station pill."

"you what?" she blurts out, just as quick and just as cleanly as him. this, in turn, causes her to slide up onto her elbows, push him back, ignore the fact that she's shirtless and his pants are undone and they were in the process of taking off those skinny jeans of his so they could actually do something fun. she makes some sort of noise, not quite a laugh but not quite a not-laugh, either. "are you-- you're not serious."

he looks-- well. hard to describe an alpha as shy and demure, but the way his shoulders raise up slightly towards his ears as he doesn't quite look at her in the eyes... "i was curious."

"you took the pill?" she parrots.

"i was curious."

"i told you this was a bad idea," she tells him, blankly, as if this will make a difference. then: "does it hurt?"

"no." gorgeous blue eyes look back at her. those pupils are slightly dilated. she can't tell if it's because of the lack of light, or because of the pill.

the gas station pill, of course, is a reference to the gas station pill.

luka's been needing to fill up his gas tank on his truck, and marinette can never say no to perusing lackluster carrefour expresses, entranced by the selection of novelty on-the-go items. it's possible that their luck will be in their favor and they'll find that one american chocolate-- the one that tastes ridiculously similar to cardboard that they like to stock up on for parties so they can show it off to guests-- and it's always a fun time to show people just how bad it can get.

that was the intention. that was the goal. that was the point.

she'd said a quick hello to the cashier, practically skipped her way into the small aisle to go hunting-gathering, scanning all the decoratively bright boxes for the fat-lettered calligraphy that would tell them if they'd gotten lucky or not.

luka had followed her in to tell her he'd finished, but his attention had gotten snagged on the condoms. she never bothers with them. all of those heat protectant, silicon-adjacent lubes were never in her style, and normally for luka it isn't, either.

and yet.

the gas station pill.

keeps your rut going for hours!

she'd laughed. he'd thumbed it over, reading the lack of medical labels on the back. this must be fake. who falls for this stuff? what knothead of an alpha would actually believe that a single blue and red pill in a plastic sleeve would be the solution to have a rut go for much longer than it should?

that's the gas station pill.

"doesn't your mom have high-blood pressure?" she squeaks, horrified, staring in between them and looking at his crotch. nothing's going to change, right? "how do you just take something-- luka-- you could get hurt--"

he looks guilty. sort of. "she does not."

"who takes a--"

"--they wouldn't sell something dangerous."

her eyes snap back up to his after much effort. "well... what are you feeling?"

"weird?"

this is where she laughs again, holding it back by cupping her mouth with a hand. she can't help it. he looks scandalized. "what does 'weird' mean?"

"i think this is just caffeine," he mumbles, lisping over elongated fangs. with a sigh, he leans over, shifting the weight of the mattress and falling over on the bed to her side, snuggling up with the pillows like he owns the damn place. "like, yeah, sex. but i also feel like i just had coffee."

she scrambles to climb on top of him, laughing like a hooligan. "you're not even on a rut. how is that supposed to work? could you imagine an alpha with zoomies?"

[fragileizywriting]

not to get on my once-a-month hype train where exactly 0 people can follow along this train of thought, but i do genuinely think the brat album has some songs that i could absolutely stretch and pull in different directions to make some kind of lady noire/ blanche mini fics for. von dutch and sympathy is a knife for sure. god

[fragileizywriting]

adrien getting upset with lady noire and trying to argue with her

lady noire curled up on his couch slow blinking at him ignoring whatever he’s pissed about

[fragileizywriting]

was so inspired to write that i actually opened a google doc again

i got so far as to formatting the page before i kind of felt like a tar pit again

[fragileizywriting]

ironic, isn’t it? how lady noire chases that sliver of sun that peeks out from underneath the blinds, that hazes over the headboard and strikes the wood solid. she’s content and happy to chase it during the morning, lounging and waiting for adrien to wake up, who does nothing but squint, and scowl, and hide his face further into his pillow at the idea of light.

[fragileizywriting]

ankle socks and big shirt and washed hair and kitty purrs and ohohoho luka likes it when marinette gets cozy in beddddd and wiggles her butt against his crotch while “getting comfy for sleep”

[fragileizywriting]

“stop— stop,” he laughs, snorting, something in the middle as she twists them on the mattress until her palms are pressing on his chest and pinning him down. “god damn it. it’s not fair, you know.”

the two of them ignore the way her braid slips over her shoulder and dangles in front of them as she gasps for breath, shining him a smile that she knows he’s hopeless to. “what about this isn’t fair?”

“you’re too slippery and tiny,” he argues. brilliant green eyes stare at her as if calculating her next move. he never anticipates it. but adrien still always tries, because that’s just how he is. “i just can’t grab you.”

she shrugs. “admit it. if you’re not prey, why are you prey-shaped?”

adrien’s smile bleeds something dark. “funny, i was going to say the same thing about you.”

[fragileizywriting]

i’ve been trying to think for the past couple of days what could i give to luka that would make him irredeemably lame. i’m talking about like, kitty loves him and loves how lame he is. lame affectionate. big ol alpha who has a resting bitch face.

do you think he collects bottle caps

i want him to be so harmless so sweet so genuinely unassuming that it hurts. i want kitty to get into an argument with a stranger, a spitfire of a woman, and all luka has to do is stand behind her to make the person she’s arguing with start sweating. he has a collection of star trek funko pops and thinks they’re cool

[fragileizywriting]

i haven't had any writing throughts recently, im so sorry

i would love to have some thoughts.

uhm

[fragileizywriting]

he makes her come so well, so decently, so mind-numbing perfectly, that when he finally finally finally caves and pushes into her it’s slippier than oil. he goes completely to the base of his dick without even trying. she’s pillowy, sticky, satin and delectable.

her toes twitch.

she makes a noise she’ll never admit to.

and her cunt throbs in time with her heartbeat.