I got tagged by
kasienda
noirshitsuji and
marvelousmsmol and I am tagging whoever wants to play!
( etc )
( etc )
Look at the most recent 20 fanwork titles on your AO3 account.For reference, the titles:
1. How many are you happy with?
2. How many are… not great?
3. How many did you scramble for at the last minute?
4. How many did you know before you started writing/creating, or near the beginning?
5. How many are quotes from songs or poems?
6. How many are other quotes?
7. Which best reflects the plot of the story/content of the fanwork?
8. Which best reflects the theme of the story/fanwork?
9. Which best reflects the character voice of the story/POV of the fanwork?
10. Which is your favourite?
Six Sentence Sunday is a writing thing where, on Sunday, you post six sentences from an unfinished work. It can be a new fic, a new chapter of a WIP, or even something you’re not sure you’ll ever post.from "lady in red (never seen you shine so bright)" (a Miraculous Ladybug fic I hope to finish and post in the next day or two; this excerpt is CN menstruation):
Choose an excerpt from any section (and it doesn’t have to be six sentences) and post it, letting people know what it belongs to or indicating that it’s something you’re working on.
"Well," Chat managed, "at least you know he'll never be too embarrassed to buy you tampons."(goddamnit body let me sleeeeep)
"So I'm told." Ladybug buried her face in his neck. "Not tampons, though. Hate tampons. Pads."
She really wanted her money's worth from his promise [not to tease her later], didn't she? "Aren't tampons supposed to be better for athletic activity, or something? And as often as we're bouncing around Paris..."
"Yes. They are. I hate them." She bit off each syllable.
"Sorry, sorry!" Chat might have held up surrender hands, if she weren't still in his lap. "I didn't realize it's a sore subject."
Ladybug deliberately took a calming breath. "It's fine. You're fine, you didn't know, and it's worth thinking about." She moved her hand down to his heart. "I wasn't regular before. I'm still not. Tikki says I'm not eating right, but we haven't found 'right' yet. It might just be not enough for how active I am—a lot of teen athletes who should get periods don't, and that's why—but I eat everything in sight. So Tikki thinks I should be looking for tasty human-edible bugs or flowers, because for Miraculous wielders the weirdness never stops. [...] Anyway, that all means my period is not a monthly problem. And in the suit, it is never a problem. Tikki does something about it. I have not asked what, because I don't want to know. And the rest of the time, pads work just fine."
"Noted!" Chat said, and Ladybug snickered. "Moving on!"
Give me the title of a hypothetical fic (and fandom/characters/pairing if you like, or tell me to go original if you are inclined) and I will:I am probably only working in Miraculous Ladybug.
-tell you what it's about
-recall my favorite or least favorite parts
-possibly attempt to write an excerpt of it
Marinette pulled away from him and got slowly to her feet. "What am I supposed to call you?" she asked, looking over his brick-red chain mail tunic and the rapier in his other hand.And from my NaNo:
He grinned up at her, wide and Chat-bright, and winked. "Why, I'm your Chevalier, of course."
And there was a flat silver ring in her hand.
Marinette stormed around Mme. Bustier's desk and threw herself down, opening her purse to pull out her phone and drop in the ring and scritch Tikki's worried brow before snapping the purse closed again. "Peachy."
One moment, I was Chat Noir, watching my Lady toss two black-spotted pieces of red wishbone in the air. The next—Tag yourself!
Being swept up in the torrent of miraculous ladybugs didn't usually feel like jumping into a bonfire. And being released didn't usually feel so like the warmth of a fireplace and the laughter of friends.
—Speaking of friends.
"Marinette?" asked Ladybug, glancing at my ladybug-brought friend with wide eyes and creased brow, and something about her tone of voice—
"Adrien?" squawked—my own voice, as I'd heard it on recordings. Chat Noir's voice, coming from a familiar face wearing Chat Noir's mask, behind which those absurdly green eyes darted between Ladybug and Marinette and me and—I turned my head—there was no mistaking the face I saw in the mirror every day.
Okay, folks. As April first is Saturday, I hereby pledge not to post any pranks, jokes, false links, or screamers. Nothing originating on this blog will be a prank or deliberately incorrect. If I re-post or link to other people’s pranks, which I may, they will be clearly marked so you don't click on them and think they're real.
No direct links to howling horribleness, and no 'alternative facts', will ever purposefully appear on this blog. If one does, it's a hack or something changed, or I messed up; please let me know immediately so I can fix it.
Stay safe out there, my dears! We non-pranksters have got your back.