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#ml fic
frostedpuffs · 3 days
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Adrien lifted the pillow from his head. Craning his neck to squint at Marinette, he asked, "What?" She smiled. As she pushed her loose hair behind her shoulder, something on her hand glinted in the sunlight, yet she'd moved so quickly he hadn't been privy to more than a glance. "Nothing, Chaton. Are you okay?" she asked. Adrien nodded. What she'd said was a little strange, but he chalked that up to his brain feeling like mush, so he brushed it off. "Yeah…I'll be alright." "Do you, um…do you remember anything from last night?" she asked, her voice quieter—almost as if she felt shy. Though his head ached and most of his memories from the night before were fuzzy, he racked his brain for any recollection, wanting to answer her question as best he could. His voice was raspy as he spoke. "I remember…dancing. And before that, we were in a drawing room…after my Father was rude to you. And I remember tripping and falling on you…" "That's good. Do you remember anything that happened after the party?" Adrien rolled over to face her, rubbing his head. He tried to recall how he'd returned home or even whether he'd taken a shower, yet nothing came to mind. "Not really. I'm sorry." "Sooo…" She shifted on the bed, twiddling her thumbs. "You don't remember what you asked me last night?" Her smile grew soft—yet tinged with excitement.
he is trying so hard to remember what he asked her...
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anna-scribbles · 8 months
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what a shame, i can see it all now that we’re through
- firearm by lizzy mcalpine
(chapter 5 of call it even is making me feel bonkers insane. thank u @sha-nwa)
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nobodyfamousposts · 3 months
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Coffeenette
For the record, they blame Alya. All of them do. No question. They will never NOT blame Alya for this.
Even Nino, who is her boyfriend and supposed to support her. He’s agreed with her about almost everything. But not about this.
Even Rose, who is the sweetest girl in their class. She’ll apologize and be really nice about it, but she still blames Alya.
Heck, even Chloe did, which was a surprise. She was a bully sure, but as such, anyone would have thought this sort of thing would be beneath her. Though it could simply be that she just liked having any excuse to make fun of someone.
…Or so they thought until they saw Chloe scramble away to hide as soon as she saw it happen.
But none of them blamed Alya more for this situation than Marinette, who could only swear all unholy vengeance and glare daggers at her soon to be ex-best friend as she took her sole reason for living in this cold and terrible world and threw it in the garbage!
“Marinette, come on. It’s not that big of a deal!”
“It was innocent…”
“It was a cup of coffee!”
“The perfect cup of coffee. The coffee to end all coffees. Brewed to perfection and at just the right temperature. I could have died happily with that coffee. No other cup of coffee will ever compare. Ambrosia was in that cup and you threw it away!”
“Are you serious?!”
“Shh. Shh…I must mourn.”
“Get off the floor!”
“Mourn, I say!”
Oh sure, some had shrugged it off at the time. Alya had just rolled her eyes and dragged Marinette to class—coffeeless. Others had simply laughed a little at the dramatic display before moving on.
But those who knew better were panicking.
Some were already looking up therapists. Two were immediately calling their parents to ask about a school transfer. A few had given up on life and were writing up their wills.
It should be made clear: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a kind girl. Sweet. Dedicated. Dependable. If you needed help, she was there. She was the one to look to for a solution to any problem. She was the first to put forth an effort and offer an olive branch, even if you hurt her. And of course the last thing she ever wanted to do was upset anyone. And if she did, she would be the first to apologize and try to make up for it.
…the problem was that this was all when Marinette was in a good space. And while her good days exceeded her bad days, that was not to say that there were not bad days. And when she had her bad days, they were…bad.
The thing that few knew about Marinette Dupain-Cheng was that there were…times, you could say, when she was not her normal friendly self. Times when she was…
…Grumpy.
Kind of mean.
Downright brutal, actually.
It only happened when she was either very angry or very stressed.
Which, unfortunately for everyone, has been increasing quite a bit since Hawk Moth made his grand entrance into the world of supervillainy.
Marinette had been stressed for a while and it showed. She’d been losing sleep. And they could tell she’s been more groggy given how frequently she’s been walking into walls and doors. They had thought this was cute at first. They had even laughed about it.
They hadn’t realized that this was actually only the first stage. Not until she started coming in with coffee—something she hadn’t done in years.
Marinette struggled when she was tired.
Thanks to Hawk Moth, she had lately been very tired.
And with her consistent lack of sleep, coffee had been her best friend. Or at least her best consumable friend. The sort of friend that brought her relief and made living bearable.
…until Alya took it away.
It turned out that Marinette’s parents had become…”concerned” about Marinette’s caffeine intake and had forbidden her from the beverage. Normally, they could only keep it away from her at home by either keeping her from the coffee pot or when necessary, switching to decaf. But Marinette had found ways around that by getting her bitter bitter life-saving paint stripper juice outside, usually on the way to school.
Or at least, she used to. But this was a new year and THIS time, Marinette had a new friend—and a BEST FRIEND at that in the form of Alya Cesaire, whom Tom and Sabine had chosen to enlist in their plot to protect their daughter from things that weren’t good for her.
Like coffee. Her precious life-preserving coffee.
And next to the Ladyblog and her secondary role as Rena Rouge, Alya had never jumped on anything faster.
Marinette’s morning coffee run? Done. A thing of the past as Alya would walk her to school and ensure they made no other stops along the way.
Marinette’s stash of coffee and energy drinks? Ransacked. Alya searched her locker, her desk, her bags. And being Marinette’s best friend, she knew ALL of her potential hiding spots.
Marinette’s emergency chocolate-covered espresso beans? Taken. Alya practically treated it like it was radioactive given the gloves and goggles she wore as she removed them. And in her defense, they very well may have been. Marinette was very tight-lipped over just where she had gotten them. She had tried to hide the fact that they WERE espresso beans, but Alya still wasn’t fooled.
Alya was on the hunt and there was NOTHING that could stop her. For her best friend’s “greater good”.
…as far as Marinette was concerned, the “greater good” could shove it.
She saved Paris on a daily basis! This was the LEAST it could give her in return!
Sadly, it appeared that Alya—and by extension Paris, cared not for Marinette’s sacrifice. Thus she was left to stew in her growing rage…stew like the precious brew she was being deprived of.
Up until that point it was clear that Marinette had been surviving on coffee and sheer spite. And now she only had one of those two things left.
But it would be fine! Really!
…so long as no one earned her ire.
Chloe had been one such unfortunate recipient of that ire some time ago in her younger days. Though Marinette had profusely apologized to her afterwards, Chloe never forgot and has held it against her ever since.
...well, after her several month sabbatical from school, at any rate.
So the fact that Chloe was suddenly trying to convince her father to let her take a vacation in the middle of the school year should have been a major red flag.
…or the way Marinette slammed her bag on her desk to get the class’s attention when they started getting off task and too loud in class.
……or the death glare she gave Kim the instant he tried to poke fun at her state with a literal poke to her cheek to try to wake her…and the injured finger he received for his trouble when she grabbed the offending object and bent it back.
…………or how most of the teachers were conveniently refraining from giving them any homework assignments they knew they should have been getting. Or not acknowledging Marinette’s grumpy behavior and sleeping in class. Or avoiding even looking in Marinette’s general direction.
The point was that it was evident that not all was right in the classroom and especially with their normally kind and happy Everyday Ladybug.
To their credit, the classmates had tried to bring Marinette coffee in order to help restore her to her usual state...or at least avoid her wrath.
But all their attempts were for naught, as Alya herself had become something of a bloodhound for caffeine. And having appointed herself as enforcer of the coffee ban, she would confiscate any form of the substance they tried to bring in and dispose of it in short order—much to the classmates’ horror and Marinette’s growing displeasure.
As far as the class could figure, it seemed that coffee was either simply useful in keeping Marinette awake and aware, or it was a comfort to her when she was feeling stressed.
Probably both.
And Alya, in all her misguided concern for the girl’s health, had taken it upon herself to remove the one thing keeping Marinette stable. Stable and happy and not inclined to traumatize anyone unfortunate enough to get in her way.
So yes, everyone in the class did blame her. They didn’t do anything about that resentment, of course, but they did still blame her.
Not that Alya seemed to care.
“Alya.” Nino knelt—literally knelt before her, his hands clasped as if in prayer. “Please. I’m begging you! Just let the girl have her coffee!”
She only rolled her eyes before throwing away yet another cup Marinette had managed to procure from the teacher’s lounge—somehow completely ignoring the daggers the other girl was glaring at them all with from the window of the classroom.
Alya was unmoved.
And seemingly oblivious to the scratch marks on the window left in the wake of Marinette’s pawing.
“It’s for her own good.” Alya insisted, much to the growing horror and frustration of those around her.
“What about our good?“
“You’ll be fine.“ She said dismissively.
“She made Kim cry!” Nino exclaimed, gripping his hat. 
“You’re exaggerating.“
“She brought out the Vial. Do I need to tell you about the Vial?“
“The what now?“
“Marinette has a special Vial she carries during…these times.” Max explained as he helped the despondent Nino to his feet.
Alya blinked.
“Okay?”
“She uses that Vial to collect the tears of anyone who so much as annoys her while she’s in this state!”
“That’s a little weird, but—”
Nino cut her off.
“She uses those tears to flavor her coffee.”
Alya stared.
“What?”
“She flavors her coffee with tears, Alya!” He continued, gripping her shoulders. “Not cream! Not sugar! Not cinnamon or chocolate or pumpkin spice like normal people and Americans! TEARS! OUR TEARS! What does that tell you?!”
“That tells me you’re exaggerating.“ She replied, looking decidedly unimpressed. And thus cruelly ignored his whimpering as she tossed the rest of the coffee into the trash bin.
She shot them a look as she slammed the bin lid closed, as if daring them to challenge her.
Nino looked on the verge of a breakdown.
Max sighed and texted the others.
To everyone else, the slamming of that bin lid was akin to a signal…one that indicated the sealing of their fates.
Some cried. Some prayed.
Most chose to stay out of the way.
…that was likely all they could do.
Other than blame Alya, of course. Which they did.
As Marinette’s antics changed from funny “walking into walls isn’t she cute” to less funny “eviscerate your soul with words”.
As whispers from the rest of the school followed the classmates, offering them sympathy and prayers.
As the very atmosphere changed from a sense of melancholy to ever growing unease and outright paranoia. As if her presence itself brought with it something seemingly eldritch in nature.
And through it all, Alya ignored the warnings and insisted this was for the best.
To be fair, it was perhaps her friendship with Marinette that offered her some protection from the worst of it.
…others were not spared.
Timothy—everyone remember Timothy? Prominent student and good friend to the rest of the class. Top of his class. Fellow swimmer and athlete to Kim and Odine. Was one of the few people Chloe would listen to. Tried to help Nino throw the party during Bubbler and the only one to notice Sabrina hadn’t appeared in a while in Antibug. Remember? That Timothy. Had totally been there all along and was well liked by everyone. Possibly as much as Adrien.
…until he admonished Marinette for bumping into him and not looking where she was going.
And.
Marinette.
Snapped.
It was the moment Marinette finally had enough. Both of the lack of coffee and of holding back her frustration about the situation.
It was also the last time Timothy was seen at school. Or anywhere for that matter. Given how abrupt it was and how people actively avoid mentioning him again, some question if he had ever really existed…
Eh, probably not. It was likely just a rumor.
What wasn’t a rumor was how Chloe (after being denied being allowed to ditch school) presumed that a new year and being Queen Bee meant she was stronger than she had been before and thus strong enough to put the caffeine-deprived version of Marinette in her place. She would prove to Marinette, to herself, and to everyone that SHE was the head bitch in charge.
Marinette was abruptly woken out of a nice daydream that either involved Adrien or coffee or Adrien AND coffee to find herself being yelled at. And find herself face to face with Chloe.
Oh wait, Chloe was the one yelling at her.
She had a hard time making out what Chloe was saying, but the fact remained that it WAS Chloe. Which was never a pleasant place to begin any realization.
It would help if she had coffee.
Was there coffee?
Marinette looked at her depressingly empty hands.
No.
"Well?! Do you hear me?!" Chloe shouted.
Marinette looked up at the blonde and took a slow breath before opening her mouth to speak.
...
…thirty minutes later, Sabrina found Chloe catatonic under her desk and took her home early.
To be fair, she had brought it on herself. After all, she really should have learned her lesson from the last time. But still, it was hard to forget the scene as Sabrina gently guide her out of the building as Chloe mumbled to herself, her face pale, her mascara running, and her eyes wide and haunted.
She was out for the rest of the week.
Bustier was...no help. In her ever rose-tinted fashion, she attempted to speak with Marinette early on what had been a particularly bad morning.
“Marinette, I heard you’ve been having some trouble with your classmates.”
It took a minute for Marinette to realize Bustier was there, much less that she was trying to have a conversation.
“—argument with Chloe the other day. It seems like whatever you had said really hurt Chloe’s feelings.”
Marinette blinked, trying to comprehend what was being said to her.
“—was uncalled for. Chloe didn’t deserve that.”
Bustier. Something about Chloe? She hadn’t seen her in a while. She thought things had been quieter lately…
“—you know how Chloe is and that she needs help. Surely whatever she said couldn’t have been that bad, and—”
These were clearly words, but they weren’t making sense.
“—remember what I said before about the Marinette’s of the world? It’s important to show love to people, even if they aren’t nice. So they can learn from your good example and—”
Marinette.exe needed coffee to continue this conversation.
“I think the two of you can talk this out. You can apologize to Chloe and model the right behaviors.”
Was there coffee to continue?
“—and who knows? Maybe the two of you will even become the best of friends!”
No.
“—what do you think?”
Marinette frowned at Bustier and opened her mouth to speak.
...
...it would be the first and only time Bustier would make such an attempt to speak to coffee-deprived Marinette. Nobody knows exactly what happened, as the students had come in when class started only to find Bustier in the aftermath, sobbing over her desk and completely inconsolable.
No class was had that day.
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sizzleissues · 11 months
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I do art of the gang from my fic because you guys read it.
It’s a Princess Switch AU where Adrien and Félix swap places and live each others lives (and fall in love). Shenanigans follow.
You can read it here <————-
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rosekasa · 1 month
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(slumber) partycrasher
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He’s finishing up on Rue de la République when he sees Ladybug on Alya’s balcony. His footsteps slow to a halt on the roof tile. It’s Sunday today, isn't it? Ladybug doesn't patrol on Sundays. Did something happen at Alya’s? He stops, reroutes, and heads over.
He gets closer, the lights bringing them further into focus. The two girls stand close together, huddled over Alya’s phone, murmuring quietly.
“Good evening, ladies,” he says as he lands.
The shriek that exits Ladybug echoes through the street.
He stands there, rigid, all the punny greetings he had planned effectively smacked out of his mouth. He has never heard Ladybug make that sound before. He didn't even know Ladybug was capable of making that sound. Even Alya seems taken aback, staring at her wide-eyed.
After five heavy seconds of silence, Ladybug comes back to life. “Um—!” she says. “Wow! Chat Noir! Hi! I wasn't expecting you to crash our slumber party!”
He blinks, still reeling from the scream. “...Slumber party?”
This time, it's Alya’s stupor that lifts. “Um— yep! Ladybug comes over every Sunday and we have a sleepover. Y’know, Ladyblogger-Ladybug bonding time.”
Huh. So that’s why she doesn't patrol on Sundays? He thought it was a civilian thing.
…She could've told him.
“Oh. Well.” He hopes his voice doesn't sound strained. “Don’t let me intrude.” He gives them both a smile, then leaps back onto the rooftops.
Neither of them say goodbye.
══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══
He doesn't want to be petty, but why would Ladybug not tell him about the sleepovers? They’d agreed to keep superhero things completely transparent between each other. So is this not a superhero thing, then? Is Ladybug hanging out in costume with Alya Césaire more personal than hanging out with Chat Noir?
He huffs, eyes snapping over to the light on Alya’s balcony. He has a right to bring this up, surely. He's her partner.
Ladybug is alone, this time, but the glass door is open. She has a blanket over her shoulders, a fox-printed mug in her hand, the light of Alya’s phone illuminating her face, eyes glued to the screen.
Remembering her reaction from the last time, he steps onto the balcony a little gentler from behind her. “Hey—”
“They're making out on a fire escape.”
He chokes on his spit, grappling for purchase at the balcony door. “I— I’m sorry?”
Ladybug whips around, the blanket flying onto the floor. At least she doesn't scream again. But the look in her eye is somehow even more concerning.
Behind him, a toilet flushes, and padded footsteps draw near. “Did you get to the part where he books a hotel—” She cuts herself off with a gasp. “...Chat Noir. Hi.”
The three of them stand together silently, in their awkward vertical line, for what feels like a full minute.
This was such a stupid idea. What’s wrong with him, accosting his partner on her days off? It’s not his business how she spends that, nor who she spends it with. Unlike him, she’s not wasting all her time thinking about their partnership. Maybe he just needs to get a life.
“Sorry for crashing— again,” he quickly says. He takes a couple of steps back to the railing, turning to face both of them. “I— uh, thought there was an akuma down the road and wanted to tell you but, uh, looks like it's just a tree.” He laughs nervously, grabbing around for his baton. “I’ll be off, then.”
“Wait— are you sure—” Ladybug starts.
There’s sympathy in her eyes. His breath hitches.
“Yes!” he says. As he steps away from her again, his baton slips from his hand. “Sorry, I’ll just text next time.”
Alya pipes up from behind him. “Chat, you’re always welcome to stay—”
“No, seriously, I, like, am allergic to sleepovers. I break out into hives.”
Ladybug furrows her brow. “I don't think that's true.”
“My medical history is very complicated.” Finally retrieving his baton, he opens it and turns to the skyline. “Well, bye!”
Ladybug makes a small, aborted sound of protest. But then as she reaches to stop him, her grip on Alya’s phone slips.
She screams. Alya screams. Chat Noir wonders whether this is what they're practicing together every Sunday.
Still balanced on his baton, he grabs the phone midair, holding it up over the safety of the balcony.
Automatically, his eyes fall on the screen.
Ladybug moans as Chat Noir kisses down her neck. He lifts her onto the fire escape, pulling her legs around him, lifting his head to press a hot, wet, kiss to her—
Alya snatches the phone from his hand. “Thanks.”
Ladybug’s face is crimson, hands tight around her mug.
Chat Noir looks from Ladybug, to Alya, to the phone. Her screen is still on. He looks away before he catches any more words.
He clears his throat. “W-Well, I should, uh, get off, then. I mean—!” He holds up his hands. “Be off! This balcony! And back home! Um— you should read— I mean, um, use your phone indoors just in case. Bye!”
He never does get around to asking about their slumber parties.
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mostmagical · 2 months
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for @zodoods, I hope this lives up to expectations 🙏
Words: 4k Summary:
Marinette knew she tended to get tunnel vision when she was focused, but luckily her boyfriend Chat Noir was always there to watch her back as they fought Monarch. With their enemy having disappeared, however, they decided together that it was finally time to reveal themselves. In public. Face to face. It's a little silly to have to introduce yourself to your own boyfriend, but after all, it wasn’t Marinette’s fault that she never knew her boyfriend’s name. (Adrien has never been to school, and Marinette doesn't know him.)
Marinette hadn’t known her smile could be so wide. Staring at herself in the reflection, she couldn’t be bothered to worry about the awful dark circles under her eyes, or the frizzy mess of her hair. Everything could be covered or smoothed over, after all. None of that really mattered. Not when her whole world was about to change.
Today was the day.
“Today,” she breathed the word to herself. “Tikki, can you believe it’s today?” she asked, turning around to look towards her kwami.
Tikki giggled from where she sat atop the dresser. “You and Chat Noir have only been planning it forever,” she replied.
The smile was beginning to make Marinette’s cheeks ache. “We have.”
For months following the disappearance of Monarch, Ladybug and Chat Noir had been planning and mentally preparing to finally reveal their identities to one another, eventually coming to the conclusion that they were both ready for it just a week prior. She could still see Chat’s goofy smile in her mind’s eye, clear as day.
“So, we’re really doing this?” he had asked as they sat atop a rooftop together. “For real?”
“For real,” she had replied, excitedly nodding her head. Taking his hand in hers, she had pressed three rapid kisses to the back of it, trying to impress all of her enthusiasm and all of her love into his skin through the suit. “I can’t wait to meet you, mon Chaton,” she had promised him.
His face was rosy, with that big, beautiful smile of his stretching out his cheeks. “Neither can I, my Lady.”
Marinette let out a low squeal at the not-so-distant memory, pressing her hands against her hot cheeks.
She was going to meet her boyfriend. For the first time.
Well, not exactly the first time, but first enough.
They had plans to meet at a little café just a few blocks from the Grand Palais. He had surprisingly been a bit apprehensive at first, but she assured him everything would be okay. Marinette promised to wear the rose he had given her in her hair, and she was going to look for the boy wearing the scarf she had made him on his pretend birthday (and then he could tell her his real birthday!).
She couldn’t wait.
This day was a long time coming, and Marinette had plenty of fantasies to prove it. She wanted to hold her boyfriend’s hand in public, kiss him and go to the movies, all without a crowd of people taking photos of them. She wanted to goof off and be silly with him, all without worrying about being a hero, or acting like a good role model. She wanted to take him over to her house, and have him meet her parents, and stay for dinner without the threat of a supervillain interrupting the desert.
And after today, all that could finally be reality.
She got to work applying her makeup and wrangling her hair, not wanting to waste another second. Although she was notoriously late for most events, this was something she hoped to actually arrive early to. The ruby red dress she had laid out the previous night while she should have been sleeping was the last to slip over her head, perfectly matching the scarlet of Chat’s rose tucked behind her ear. The knee-length skirt fluttered to and fro as she took one last scrutinizing look in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect for her not-so-first impression.
Once she was finally satisfied, Marinette tossed her purse over her head. As soon as Tikki was settled and comfortable, she at last headed out.
There was a skip in her step the entirety of the walk, completely out of her control.
Although excitement was certainly at the forefront of her emotions, she would be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that little seed of nervousness. What if he didn’t like her? (He would.) What if he wasn’t as kind as she thought, and his personality was nothing more than a front? (Impossible.) What if his nerves got the best of him, and he didn’t show?
With her heart thundering in her chest, she turned the last corner to bring the café into view.
Her eyes zoned in on a mop of blond hair instantly. It was neat and combed back— completely at odds with the wild wind-blown look she was used to seeing on her boyfriend, but something in the way her stomach twisted and swooped inside of her told her that she may have spotted him. Taking slow steps closer, she traced the curve of his posture with her eyes as he sat hunched over the tiny café table, gasping slightly as she located the familiar shade of blue peeking from his collar.
It had to be him. It had to.
A chorus of giggles broke her concentration, drawing her eyes to a gaggle of girls a couple tables over. They were whispering excitedly and pointing in the direction of the same mop of blond hair, all with cell phones raised. A sudden wave of heat ran up Marinette’s spine as she realized they were ogling him.
She wasn’t surprised that girls were looking at him. Chat Noir was the cutest, most handsomest boy in the world, so of course they would. But that was her cutest and most handsomest boy in the world.
Her slow steps quickly evolved into a fast walk until she was right beside him, at which she practically threw herself onto the table, bodyblocking the girls’ view. The boy visibly jumped at her entrance. She glanced at his face for his reaction, but his eyes were covered by large sunglasses, effectively hiding any expression of recognition. Face feeling suddenly warm, Marinette stood back up straight and cleared her throat, casually drumming her fingers against the laminate surface.
“H-hi. I’m looking for my kitten,” she said, uttering the code phrase they had planned to use to confirm each other’s identities.
The boy smiled, instantly easing her worries. “I saw a little bug on the flyer.”
A grin spread across her cheeks before she could stop it, giddiness overflowing to the tips of her fingers. “I found you,” she murmured, just quiet enough to be just for him.
He stood from his seat, still smiling, and Marinette thought he was going in for a hug until he stepped around her. She was only confused for a second before he pulled out the chair on the other side of the table.
“Oh.” So the gentlemanly thing wasn’t an act after all. Accepting the gesture, Marinette turned to sit, feeling him push the chair in behind her as she did so. “Thank you.”
He simply hummed, before returning to his own seat across from her.
“So, um–” Not really sure where to start, (how does one introduce themselves to the boy they’ve been dating for two years?) Marinette figured the basics should go first. She almost wanted to laugh as she realized she was essentially on a blind date with her long-term boyfriend. “I’m Marinette,” she said, tugging at her bangs before pushing them behind her ear.
“Marinette,” he breathed. Breathed, as in he actually sighed her name when he said it. Marinette thought she might melt. “That’s a beautiful name.”
She wondered how dopey her smile must look to him. “Thank you,” she replied. “And you are?”
Thin blond eyebrows raised over the rims of the glasses, before dropping back down out of sight almost as quickly as they appeared. He laughed. “Okay,” he said between chuckles. “I’m Adrien.”
Marinette wasn’t quite sure what was so funny, but his laughter was just as contagious as always. With a giggle, she stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Adrien.”
His returning smile was soft. “Nice to meet you, Marinette.” He took her hand, and turned it to rest atop his on the table, running smooth circles over the back of her palm with his thumb. The feeling of his warm skin on hers was foreign and exciting, setting off yet another flurry of butterflies in her stomach.
“You still wear your pigtails,” he stated.
Naturally, her free hand trailed to her hair. She smiled as her fingers brushed the velvet petals of the rose. “They’re kind of my armor,” she replied with a shrug. “All the better for you to recognize me.”
The corner of his lip twitched, but the soft smile remained unchanged. Part of her wondered if he was still nervous about meeting. Hoping to ease his worries, she grinned.
“And I’m glad to see you don’t wear whiskers,” she joked.
He laughed again, and that seemed to be enough to lower the tension in his shoulders, to Marinette’s relief. “You’re right, I don’t,” he said. “I have a clean public image to maintain, you know.”
Marinette furrowed her brows, trying and most likely failing to hide the confusion on her face. It was surprising; Chat Noir was definitely the type of person who would grow “whiskers” just to commit to the bit. To each their own she supposed. Mustaches did seem to be more supervillain-y than superhero-y, after all.
“I do have to ask, though, what’s with the glasses?” she asked, moving the conversation along. “They’re so big, they’re covering half your face. Any plans to take those off?”
“Well, I–” Adrien’s head turned minutely towards the girls at the table behind her, barely perceptible to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. “I don’t know.” His hand pulled at the scarf where it crossed over his black t-shirt.
“Please,” she insisted, putting on her best baby-doll eyes. “How unfair you get to see all of my face and I can’t see all of yours.” She held his hand tighter, imploring but hopefully he knew it was still light-hearted.
“Marinette, it’s just–”
She pulled out her secret weapon: the pout. His mouth instantly stopped moving.
“I’ve never really seen your eyes before,” she added. At his answering sigh, she felt a bout of pride swell in her chest. Victory.
Hesitantly, he removed the sunglasses and folded them on the table, all the while looking shyly up at her through golden lashes.
Marinette’s pulse quickened as she finally— really— met his eyes. Such strange feelings of déjà vu ran through her when she caught sight of how green they were. It was the first time she had seen his whole face, and yet it already felt so nostalgic and familiar. It was almost as if she had seen him before, and she supposed she had, in her dreams at the least.
“Gorgeous,” she sighed, unable to stop her tongue from embarrassing the rest of her.
All the regret she might have held drained out of her, however, when she saw how pink his cheeks went in response. His dropped jaw slowly curved into a small smile, and those pretty green eyes closed in half moons as he replied, “Thanks for the compliment.”
Was this really the same boy?
Marinette snorted. “What? No cheesy remark about how you knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you?”
“I’m just far too stunned by the beauty in front of me to think straight,” he said, mouth pulled sideways. “I daresay you could outshine me anyday.”
There he is.
She rolled her eyes in response, but she couldn’t deny the coils of warmth that spread across her skin. With a fond shake of her head, she brought one elbow to the top of the table to cradle her chin in her hand.
“You know, you’re taking this really well,” Adrien said, the smirk fading back to a humble smile. It was odd seeing him so reserved. “Better than I thought you would.”
“Taking what well?” she asked. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she recalled his apprehension from the night before. She attempted to keep things light, sliding into a teasing tone as she conspiratorially whispered, “Did you think I wouldn’t like you without the cat ears, mon Chaton?”
“Well, no, that’s not exactly—”
She cut him off, making sure to speak with all the sincerity she could muster, “Because there is no universe where I wouldn’t like you.” With a coy wink, she added, “Believe me. I checked.” She grinned with pride as her fingers squeezed his on the table, feeling as though she had one-upped him in cheesiness.
Again, his mouth hung open slightly as he processed her words, but soon morphed back into the soft smile. His head tilted to the side. “You always know what to say to make me happy, my–” The corners of his lips twitched, his intended endearment clear to both of them— “my Marinette,” he said instead, pulling their joined hands up to brush his lips against the back of her palm.
Dimly, Marinette registered the sound of a squeal from somewhere behind her.
“But, um, no.” His countenance took on a much more nervous expression, his free hand drifting back to play with the nape of his neck. “I meant more–” He paused, waving his hand awkwardly towards himself.
“What?”
His brows furrowed, mouth open and clearly poised to explain himself, but he was interrupted by a waiter arriving to take their orders, and the moment was surreptitiously forgotten.
As the date went on, conversation flowed freely between them. Marinette learned so many of his favorite things, what he was studying in school, that he was an only child just like her, and of course, his birthday, time and year. So many things that she would normally have naturally learned over time, which was something that she took for granted in her other relationships with family and friends. It was odd, but wonderful that this absurd blind date was just another unique experience that they could share together.
She would have been more than happy to talk to him forever if she could, but a trill from Adrien’s phone stopped their conversation short.
His eyebrows turned down as he read the screen. “How did it get so late?” he pouted, just as cute as before when he wore cat ears on his head. “I’m sorry, Marinette, but I have to go.”
Her smile was sympathetic, barely holding herself back from mirroring his pout. “That’s okay,” she replied. “We’ll just have to have our next date sooner.”
The answering smile on his face made it all worth it.
Adrien’s fingers flew across his keyboard for a second, before another trill responded. “My bodyguard says he can take you home, though!” he announced happily. “So we can spend a little more time together.”
Marinette couldn’t stop the confused noise from escaping her mouth. “Your…bodyguard?” she repeated slowly.
“Yeah!” He looked up from his phone, lips softly quirked upwards. “And don’t worry; he may look mean but he’s the kindest man I’ve ever met.”
That certainly wasn’t something Marinette was worried about, but now she felt like she needed to be.
She tried to cross the appropriate wires in her head. Okay, so Chat Noir, famed superhero of Paris and wielder of the power of destruction, had a bodyguard in his everyday life. And that bodyguard apparently drove him places?
Perhaps she needed to collect more evidence.
Too busy thinking to come up with anything to say, Marinette mutely nodded her agreement.
Having already paid the bill— well, Adrien paid, despite her protests—, the two stood from their seats and headed down the sidewalk. Marinette followed Adrien closely, too busy sweeping her eyes across the busy street to spot this ‘mean-looking’ man to notice Adrien’s knuckles bumping into hers. She finally looked up at him when he laced their fingers together and squeezed. His green eyes almost seemed to shimmer as they looked into hers, and Marinette could feel all that wound-up tension melt away in response.
The spell between them was broken by a sudden honk.
Adrien was the first to break eye contact, turning back towards the street. “Oh! There he is.”
Marinette followed his gaze. Her eyes widened as they landed on the sleek sedan that had pulled up to the curb in front of them. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew enough to identify the logo of a luxury brand. The car was well-washed and shiny, unlike most of the vehicles that parked along the dirty city streets.
A burly man emerged from the driver’s side door, and walked around the car. To Adrien’s credit, he did seem a bit scary, based on sheer size alone, but Marinette supposed her Papa was probably about the same size. She figured if the man smiled a bit more, he would come off much friendlier. He greeted the two of them with little more than a low grunt and a nod, before briskly opening the rear passenger side door.
Marinette froze in place as she waited for one of the others to move. She couldn’t for the life of her understand what was going on. Was Adrien going to drive and this man was graciously letting her have the front seat?
“Marinette?” Adrien cleared his throat. “Are you ready to go?”
She blinked a few times, looking back and forth between the open door and her boyfriend’s face. “Um, yes,” she replied nervously. “I’m ready.”
He bowed his head, gesturing with his free hand towards the open door. “Then, after you, my lady.”
The familiar name quelled the voices in her head long enough for her to step forward. “Thank you, my prince,” she teased in response.
Though she did step in first, she held fast to his hand, pulling him along with her. The inside of the sedan was just as clean as the outside. Small tablets nestled into the back of both front headrests, and a far fancier screen than Marinette had in any of her devices at home was centerstage on the dashboard. She could feel her eyes widening as she took it all in.
Chat Noir was rich.
Chloé Bourgeois rich, maybe.
That was… unexpected. Admittedly, she never imagined Chat to have a high-class upbringing (if she could even call Chloé’s that). She had always envisioned him as a rough and tumble sort of kid. He would take soda over wine any day. Canned tuna over caviar. He had never turned up his nose to fast food, or cheap nosebleed seats at a concert, or acted like he was any better than anyone else.
No, Chat– Adrien— was amiable, gracious, and an appreciator of the little things–
“Marinette?”
She whipped her head around to meet her boyfriend’s gaze, having been yanked from her thoughts. “Yes?”
Adrien seemed to be holding back a laugh, clearly having recognized her thinking face. “Your address?”
“Oh!” She leaned forward in her seat, directing her attention to the driver. “12 Rue Gotlib, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Adrien’s face lit up in the rearview mirror. “That’s just around the corner from us!”
“Really?” She was reminded of that flash of déjà vu she had felt upon seeing his face for the first time. Maybe they had met before. Most people who lived in the 21st arrondissement got their baked goods from her parents’ bakery, and Marinette often worked the front counter. They must have had at least one encounter before as their civilian selves.
It was almost a shame.
She would have loved to know that her favorite person was just around the corner.
He tightened his grip on her hand as she turned back to face him. “Almost too good to be true,” he said, echoing her thoughts.
All lamentations of lost time were forgotten at that, and she chose instead to be happy in the moment they had now. She smiled, squeezing his hand back.
They were content to spend the short ride in comfortable silence after having spent the majority of their time together with endless conversations. Adrien’s bodyguard didn’t ask any questions after Marinette gave her address, so she saw no reason to try chatting with him when she could cuddle into Adrien’s arm instead. The world was pink and fuzzy, and the only leather pressed against her skin was that of the car seats. Feeling the rise and fall of Chat Noir’s breaths through warm cotton was a wholly different, welcome experience.
The ride was too short, however, and before she knew it, they had pulled up in front of her family’s bakery.
Adrien’s short intake of breath pulled her eyes upwards, and she noticed him staring at the sign with eyes full of wonder. “Whoa, you live so close to the boulangerie,” he noted.
Marinette grinned. “Well, yeah, I live above it,” she said, delighted when his head whipped back to face her. “My parents own it.”
His eyes looked about ready to bulge out of their sockets. “You do?”
She pointed to the sign. “And I designed the logo. Tom and Sabine Boulangerie,” —she turned the finger towards herself— “Tom and Sabine daughter.”
Adrien’s face was painted with the most excitement she had seen from him all day. “That’s so cool! They have the best macarons— I’ve had some at events when we get catering— and I’ve asked Nathalie a few times, but, well–” His face was a bit pink as he paused. “You’re amazing, Marinette.”
“I’ll have to bring you some macarons next time I see you,” she giggled.
His eyebrows danced over his eyes. “Now I know why you’re so sweet.”
“Oh, hush.” She lightly shoved his shoulder. “Takes one to know one.”
Following some pointed clearings of the throat from the driver’s seat, they eventually got out of the car and Adrien walked her to her door. She left him with a quick kiss and a promise to text him later.
The remainder of the day went by in a blissful blur. Dinner, homework, and television with her parents faded into the background as she slipped lovingly into her daydreams. Adrien was too busy to talk, but he had sent her a few hearts and memes throughout the evening, and she looked over all of them with her chest fit to burst. Before she knew it, it was time for bed and they were texting each other good night.
It wasn’t until the next morning that Marinette realized the true shift the world had undergone.
The incessant buzzing of her phone was an unwanted wakeup call. Marinette blindly slapped her hand against the mattress until her fingers met the smooth plastic of her phone case. She slowly cracked her eyes open as the screen lit up again with notifications.
New Message - 🦊Alya🔥(32), Missed Call - 🦊Alya🔥 (2), New Message - Adrien ♥️🐈
Wondering what was so desperate for Alya to be blowing up her phone so early, Marinette quickly responded to Adrien’s “Good morning <3” in kind before opening the floodgates. She was immediately treated to a number of news articles, all caps messages, and photos. Photos of her and Adrien.
Her fingers flew through the slideshow of photographs: Adrien waiting alone with those ridiculous sunglasses, herself haphazardly draped over the table, Adrien kissing her hand, the both of them stepping into his car. She paused on one of the last photos. It was of the two of them, hand-in-hand as they waited for their ride. Adrien’s soft eyes that had mesmerized her up close were just as soft from a careful distance.
She blinked rapidly as she processed it all.
How did Alya get these?
Scrolling back up in her conversation history with Alya, she looked at the articles again, scanning over the headlines: “Adrien Agreste - Dating?” “Adrien Hits the Town with Mystery Girl!” “Who Caught the Eye of Adrien Agreste?” “Agreste Son is Growing Up!”
…Agreste?
The conversation shot down to the bottom as another text from Alya came in: CANT BELIEVE YOU DIDNT TELL ME????
Faster than she could process, Marinette swiped away from her messages to plug “Adrien Agreste'' into her search engine. A shocking thousands of images popped up, all of her boyfriend in various poses and campaigns— including one with the bowler hat she had designed for a competition run by Gabriel Agreste.
A banner notification popped up at the top of her screen, Marinette’s finger tapping it automatically.
Adrien ♥️🐈: I have a photoshoot until around noon, but do you want to get ice cream after?
Marinette dropped the phone as everything suddenly became clear.
Perhaps maybe their civilian relationship wasn’t about to be quite as low-key as she thought.
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peachcitt · 2 months
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from: thirteen by @anna-scribbles
art by me :)
start from the beginning // read the november chapter // read the most recent chapter (january)
hey listen. look me in my eyes. have you read thirteen by anna scribbles. i think you need to read thirteen by anna scribbles. i think if you want your life to be forever changed you need to read thirteen by anna scribbles. i think if you are a person who is breathing and alive you need to read thirteen by anna scribbles. thank you
#thirteen#miraculous ladybug#ml art#emilie agreste#adrien agreste#miraculous ladybug fic#ml fic#ml fic rec#my art#THIS IMAGE HAS BEEN HAUNTING THE INSIDE OF MY BRAIN EVER SINCE I READ THE NOVEMBER CHAPTER BACK IN NOVEMBER#now. listen. in an ideal world i would've done this way back in november but uhhhhhhh i don't know what happened. suddenly it was december#and now it's february! not sure how that happened. anyway my goal is to be making a piece of art for each chapter to convey#just how fucking INSANE this fic makes me feel. like how crazy and insane and awesomely constructed it is. anna just GETSSSS ITTTTTTT#(and is using her 'get it' ability to hurt me bodily)#like with every chapter i read i am just assaulted with this intense desire to Make An Image which is not really an impulse im used to#since i don't draw a ton but anna's voice is just so evocative of images in a way that just. inspires every creative impulse inside of me#i took forever to read the december chapter but the moment i read it i already had an idea of something i wanted to draw for it.#my idea is. well. complex for me to say the least but as i told anna i am determined to make my skills match whatever i need to do because#the way she writes it is literally haunting me it is shooting me with a gun it is so something i have no idea how to handle#except i guess to repeat her themes and ideas and imagery in a collage of sorts#i don't know that's what my october chapter comic felt like- a collage. and this one does too in a way even though it's very different#i just like connecting the dots. and then smashing the dots together in an image#anyway. read thirteen. it is changing me all the way down to the dna
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new-kit-on-the-block · 4 months
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Me: *Writes a fanfic and posts it on ao3, dozens of readers read and comment consistently, drops a bunch of hints clearly leading up to something that my readers have been picking up on, drops the first part of a three-part chapter that is intended to be the resolution of the first arc of the story*
My readers: "Great chapter! What happens next?"
Me:
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sturchling · 11 months
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I have a request. How about Lila’s mom comes to school because Lila forgot something. And she comes to class only to see them screaming at marinette to stop being “jealous” and stop “bullying” because of another lie Lila told. Lila’s mom also sees mrs. Bustier not doing anything to stop it. So she steps in and Lila pales at the sight of her mom. Then she sets things straight and goes off on Lila for lying again. In the end Lila and the class get punished. And lila gets held back a year.
Mrs. Rossi was already in an annoyed mood. She had already been running late this morning, and needed to get to work. But right as she went to leave, she saw that Lila had left her homework binder on the counter.
She was irritated with her daughter for being so irresponsible. Part of her considered just leaving it there and letting Lila face the consequences. She left it, she can take the bad grade. But then Mrs Rossi remembered that this assignment was worth a lot and if Lila got a bad grade, it would really affect her overall grade.
Mrs Rossi decided to just take it to the school, and she would deal with her daughter later. Little did Mrs Rossi know, Lila would wish her mother had left it alone. She had left the binder on purpose. Lila had planned to blame Marinette for the missing assignment, saying that the girl had wanted Lila to fail so she stole the assignment from her on the way to school.
Mrs Rossi strode into the school and up the stairs to her daughters class, texting on her phone to try and explain to her boss why she is late. Her focus was glued to her phone, that is until she heard the yelling. When she looked up, Mrs Rossi saw the entirety of her daughter’s class, standing and yelling at one girl in the back of the class. They were yelling at her for “bullying Lila” and “stealing her homework” so this girl would have a better than Lila.
But none of this made sense. Lila’s homework wasn’t stolen, Mrs Rossi had it in her hand. Why did the class think this girl stole it? And why wasn’t her daughter correcting them? Surely she knew about her homework, so this girl couldn’t have stolen it. Mrs Rossi felt her stomach twist. She had seen her daughter finally, and she was smiling maliciously.
Then Mrs Rossi understood. Her daughter was lying again. She had done this at every school in Italy. She always lied to everyone, about everything. Fake conditions, fake achievements, anything she could think of. And she had also previously used those lies to target specific students and make them miserable. She had been expelled from several schools for this behavior, but Lila had seemed better since moving to Paris. Reticently, Mrs Rossi realized that Lila had seemed better, because Mrs Rossi had been willfully ignoring it. Now the lack of the communication from the school, and several “school closures” seemed way more troubling.
She glanced at the teacher, Bustier, but Bustier wasn’t doing anything. She was just watching the chaos, like it was some twisted show. Mrs Rossi couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Well, if she wasn’t going to stop this, Mrs Rossi absolutely would. Her daughter wasn’t going to ruin another girl’s life.
Mrs Rossi stormed into the classroom, yelling, “LILA ROSSI”. The entire class whipped around at the sudden intrusion and stared at her. Most looked confused, but Lila didn’t. She looked terrified, and paled almost instantly upon seeing her mother.
“Mom… what are you doing here?” Lila glanced around the room, completely panicked. Especially when she spotted a certain binder in her mother’s arms.
“It doesn’t matter why I’m here. What matters is you are lying again! You told your class that this girl stole your homework? You know good and well that you left it at the house. It’s right here! I thought you had gotten over this lying phase of yours, but clearly not!” Mrs Rossi threw down the binder on the sad excuse of a teacher’s desk, angry beyond measure.
Lila was stuttering, trying to think of someway out of this, as she felt the stares of her class on her. This was very bad, Lila had intended for this lie to fully turn the class against Marinette. She hadn’t expected her mother to see the binder and bring it to the school. “Mom it’s not what you think, Marinette, she… she threatened me. Told me not to bring my homework or I’d be sorr-”
Lila couldn’t even finish her lie, her mother’s anger growing with every word until she exploded. “ENOUGH! You did this in every school you went to in Italy, and I thought I got the lesson through your head this time! Clearly not! I didn’t warn this school because you seemed to understand it this time, I guess that was my own naivety. Get up, you are coming with me to the principals office! I’m willing to bet he has some interesting stories to tell me of what you’ve been up to! I wonder if you have that lying disease again, or the one about saving some random celebrity pet. It’s the same nonsense every time and I’m sick of it!”
Lila tried to stammer out protests, she really did not want her mom to talk to Damocles. But deep down, she knew it was pointless, her mom was furious and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She felt the betrayed looks from the class on her back, as they realized Marinette had been telling the truth. Lila was a habitual liar, and her own mother was confirming it right in front of them, even referencing specific stories Lila had told them.
Lila reluctantly left the classroom with her mother, dreading this conversation and the after effects to come.
And man the after effects were more brutal than Lila expected. She wasn’t expelled exactly, but she almost wishes she was. But her mother had advocated against expulsion, but not for the sake of her daughter. She did it so her daughter couldn’t pull this again at another school.
Instead, Lila was suspended for the rest of the year and as a result would be held back a year and need to repeat it. When she was allowed back, she would be closely monitored by teachers, to make sure she couldn’t get away with anything or trying to bully any students. And a note was placed in her permanent record, so that if she ever did have to transfer for some reason, her next school would be warned.
As for the rest of the class and Bustier, they didn’t escape unscathed either. Most of the class was suspended as well, just for shorter periods of time. The school was a bit more lenient with them, since their actions were based on manipulation and lies, so they wouldn’t be suspended long enough that they would need to repeat the year, but they would be suspended for a few weeks and when they got back, they would have detention for the remainder of the year.
Finally, Bustier was also given an unpaid suspension. To come back to work, she had to complete several hours of retraining on class management, anti bullying tactics, and a wide range of other subjects. Her class got a long term sub in the meantime.
Mrs Rossi may have been annoyed about bringing that binder, but she is glad she did. It opened her eyes to her daughters continuing lies. She was able to put a stop to it this time, and she would make sure her daughter would never be able to pull this nonsense again. 
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miabrown007 · 6 months
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Felonies and Other Love Languages (Heist AU)
art by @art-the-f-up
“Whoa, I see how it is, personal question rapid fire,” Adrien laughs, scratching at the nape of his neck. “What about our secret identities? Shouldn’t we, like, protect them by not sharing personal stuff?” “Why, are you afraid that extremely personal details like where you know a friend of yours from will compromise your identity out of 10 million Parisians? Are you famous or something?” Ladybug says, obviously teasing. Oh, if only she knew. He’d be a dead man.
I have Shay's permission to post his art. as you do not, you should not.
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frostedpuffs · 2 months
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"Whoa," he teased. "Who said anything about marriage?" A sly grin crept along her cheeks. "Oh, please. As if you don't have a ring hidden somewhere in the apartment." "Not confirming or denying that." "You just confirmed it by saying that." He laughed. "Okay, I'm changing the subject." She offered a good-humored roll of her eyes. "I wish we'd stayed home," he said. "We could have enjoyed a low-key movie night on the couch instead of the mess this was." "Nah," she said. "I'm happy I came with you, even if your dad is a jerk. We can still make the most of the night together, right?" Adrien's eyes met hers, affection shining through the lingering sadness. "Are you sure you don't want to go home? We could leave this mess behind and turn in early." She smiled. "Or we could let your dad see us enjoying ourselves, despite his attempt to ruin the mood." Adrien's lips curled into a smirk. "I like that idea."
did someone say post-reveal ladrien?
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anna-scribbles · 1 month
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first chapter is up!! read here
happy valentine’s day 🧡🤍💙
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nobodyfamousposts · 1 year
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The Hero of Paris
...so when Gabriel was in the bathroom on that train when he transformed and tried to akumatize someone...
...you think anyone could have just...I dunno, recorded it?
__________________________
Michael Donahue was the hero of Paris.
In truth, he was an American tourist. And about as American as one could get.
And AS a young American in a foreign country, he did what most Americans do: abuse his phone's camera function for anything and everything he thought was interesting and likely to get him likes on social media.
He recorded a man feeding pigeons before being run off by a police officer.
He recorded some curator at a museum telling a wild fanfic idea at the Louvre.
He recorded a bunch of people chasing after a blond haired kid and screaming at the sight of him. Which...okay, weird?
Well, he'd known Paris would be weird. But he didn't think it'd be THIS weird.
But then THAT day happened. And what he thought was perhaps the silliest…even the downright dumbest thing ended up being what made him go viral in the last way he ever expected.
Some would consider it uncouth. Most would have just politely ignored it.
But Micheal was a young American with a need to record everything.
And he was already in his seat in a train waiting for it to depart for his next travel destination...only to be delayed due to some reason that he, not being French-speaking, didn't understand.
Ultimately, that made this the perfect combination of bored and impulsive in JUST the right way to achieve a miracle.
So when he heard what sounded like shouting and insane laughter coming from the bathroom on the train, Michael—in true American fashion, decided to record it.
"Dude, some guy has taken over one of the restrooms and is yelling like crazy!"
…and for the sheer hell of it, he started livestreaming.
And his chat started to come alive.
What's going on?
"The train's held up. My French isn't that good. An 'akuma' or something?"
What's an akuma?
He looked over his shoulder.
"I dunno. But that guy in the restroom has been shouting about it a lot."
On the other side of the door, the faint sound of yelling could be heard. Most of it garbled that Michael couldn't quite make out except for a few words.
"—akuma—"
"—Ladeebuug!"
What's he shouting?
"Something about Ladybugs and noir? Is he shooting a movie or complaining of a lack of pest control? Lol."
Out of all his vids and livestreams, he hadn't expected the one about some random making a scene in a bathroom to be the one that got attention, but more people were joining the chat and he saw his numbers rise more than they ever had.
"Wow. Okay. Didn't expect to get this level of response."
He made sure to keep the camera on the bathroom door the noises were coming from rather than himself. It was what the people wanted to see apparently and it allowed better audio quality.
What was perhaps the most interesting was that he started getting comments in French.
In all caps.
With many exclamation points.
Is this real!?
HAWK MOTH!
IT'S HAWK MOTH!
WHERE IS HE?!
"Hawk Moth? What?"
Then a particularly insistent commenter named LadyWifi joined and started to spam the chat.
Où est-ce?
Où est-ce?!!
OÙ EST-CE!!!
"Wait hold on. What?"
où!
WHERE?!
WHERE IS IT
wherewherewerewhere?!!!!!!!!11!!1
He balked at the repeated demands. Given the chat seemed to be repeatedly questioning where in English, he could only presume that's what they were asking in French, too. But he had no idea why and no explanation was forthcoming! Any attempts anyone made to tell him what was going on quickly got lost in the flood of comments demanding a location.
Before he could comment further though, his thoughts were interrupted by a cry of outrage from the restroom, loud enough to ring his ears.
Silence.
Then…
"Nooroo, detransform moi."
There was a strange sound from inside. Muffled, but distinct enough. Like how sparkles should sound? Something from one of those magical girl shows his little sister watches.
A click signaled the door unlocking.
"I think he's about to come out!"
The chat was going wild. Everyone commenting. Making random names? Maybe trying to guess who the person on the other side of the door was?
Then some blond guy in glasses and a really unfashionable suit came out of the restroom.
…and his livestream promptly exploded.
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sizzleissues · 7 months
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Speak my language (1250 words.)
inspired by this post by @nervousbelieverstarfish
There was a girl behind M Damocles, her hands stuck awkwardly at her sides as she made herself appear small next to him. Adrien tilted his head to the side to get a proper look but the girl shuffled away. Adrien straightened and looked up at M Damocles. Why had he led this clearly frightened girl all the way to his shady spot in the school yard? M Damocles stepped aside, gesturing to the girl with a worried smile. 
“This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, she's a new student here.”
Marinette whispered something quiet that went ignored by M Damocles.  There was a piece of pasta on her shoulder that she didn't seem to notice and a reddish stain on her black jacket that she definitely knew was there. Her entire face was pink as she watched him from behind her bangs.
He extended his hand — that was what you’re supposed to do when greeting new people? — and tried to make his smile warm. “Hi, I’m Adrien. You have pasta on your shoulder.”
Marinette blinked and M Damocles stepped in, clearing his throat.
“She’s just moved here from China. Very little French.”
Adrien retracted his hand. (He was glad she hadn’t understood him, why had he opened with ‘there’s pasta on your shoulder’? She looked mortified already, no need to kill her.)
“I know you’re only recently returning to regular schooling after your m-,” M Damocles clammed up, his voice trailing off. 
“My maman died,” Adrien supplied, forcing M Damocles to look him in his eyes as he said it. He was sick of people treating him like he couldn’t bear to hear the words. Maybe it was more that they didn’t want to say it, that they didn't want to deal with the consequences if he did break with every mention of her. It was a good thing then that he’d put all that childish grief away — along with everything else that would only hurt him in the long run. 
“Err- yes. That. Anyways, you’re here longer than Marinette and I read on your file you’re fluent in Chinese. You’re also in all advanced classes so you’d be the perfect fit to help Marinette get around and teach her French on the side. If you are willing to, of course.”
Adrien had half a mind to refuse M Damocles and go back to his quiet existence on the edges of the school. That was the way he liked it and nothing ever before had made him want to change that. Then he looked at Marinette and he couldn’t find it in him to refuse.
“Do you know what dialect she speaks?” Adrien asked. 
“Pardon?”
“What dialect? I speak Mandarin but she could only speak Cantonese or another regional dialect I wouldn’t understand.”
M Damocles paused, his thick eyebrows weighed with confusion. It seemed the thought had never occurred to him. 
“Marinette. Do - you - speak - Mandarin?” M Damocles asked her in broken French. Adrien saw something flick across her face that was different from her timid expression before. A flash of fire in her otherwise soft blue eyes. She silently nodded in response. Adrien saw it again as M Damocles turned back to Adrien to relay the answer though he’d already heard. He had to bite his lip to contain a snicker as he caught the sarcastic flick of her eyes. 
“Well then, that’s all sorted. I’ll leave you to it,” M Damocles said with a note of relief in his voice, glad the translation problem was no longer his. He strode off, leaving Marinette behind. She watched him leave with a surprisingly reluctant expression, even though he’d proved utterly incompetent.
“So, you’re new here?” He asked in Mandarin. Marinette swung her head around, blue eyes wide and frightened again. 
“Y-yes.”
“I’m A-.”
“Adrien Agreste. I know,” She interrupted.
“You do?”
Marinette seemed to realise what she’d done and turned bright red.
“I mean, you already said so. Earlier. I’m not the best at French but I know when someone’s introducing themselves.”
“Right…” It didn’t explain knowing his last name, he’d never given it, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the Agreste name had made it as far as China. He moved on to the side on his bench and held his hand out to offer the seat beside him. “Do you want to sit down?”
“Okay.” 
She sat, bouncing her leg as she looked everywhere but at him. Had she understood him earlier with the pasta thing? He searched his head for something to say before the silence lingered too long and it became impossible to breach. 
“You have pasta on your shoulder.”
Not that!
Marinette squeaked, shaking it off and then removing her jacket altogether. She groaned into her hands. Adrien scrambled desperately for something not related to pasta to ask.
“I- I noticed you have a French word in your name?”
“Oh, yeah. My Papa is French but we’ve lived in China my whole life. Never really tried to learn the language. Regretting that now.” She laughed dryly at her own expense. Adrien smiled at her when she looked up and she immediately went back to staring at the ground, furiously tapping her foot. 
“Why did you move, if you don’t mind answering?”
“To go here. To learn art at this school and become a fashion designer. I applied ages ago, I didn’t think I got in. Didn’t think I would get in.” She leaned back from hunching over, her voice getting a little louder as she settled. “That's probably why I didn’t really try to learn French but now I’m here and I don’t know a word and it's going to screw everything up. I couldn’t find any of my classes and then this- this, bitch, threw her pasta all over me when I couldn’t understand her. She had a claim over the table I’d chosen, apparently. People had been warning me and I couldn’t understand them fully to realise. How am I supposed to become a famous fashion designer if I can’t even say it in French!”
Marinette clamped her mouth shut and turned to Adrien with an alarmed expression. His Mandarin wasn’t good enough to have kept up with everything but he got the gist. She was completely lost and alone.
“I’m so sorry. You don’t want to hear about that. You’re the one saddled with teaching me and now I’m dumping this all on you. You really don’t have to.”
Adrien looked across the school yard to where all the other students had gathered, talking amongst themselves. Groans about homework, whispers of gossip and cheers as one student presented a graded project. He’d never once bothered to join in. Now he was sitting with this girl who was on the outskirts like him and she couldn’t join in even if she wanted to. The voice that told him to shut everyone out could be ignored for now. She would be his exception.
His only exception.
(He didn’t know now but soon he’d make another. For a girl with fire in her soft blue eyes. He’d look into those eyes as her hand reached to save him and know he’d have to make another exception. But that would be the last one) (Until the next.)
“It’s alright. I’ll teach you French until it's better than your Mandarin. And you can help me improve my Mandarin in return. Does that sound like a deal?”
Marinette looked down at the hand he’d extended then up at him, her eyes flooding with relief. She shook his hand, grinning from ear to ear. 
“Deal.”
-
OK OK OK OK. I hope you liked it, i hope it was good. Let me know or whatever. Please reblog blah blah blah and have a good day
I would write more but I have so many WIPS and I’m trying to overcome doubt in my writing so I can just write again. This is an AU to the movie’s canon but also can be applied to the show if you want. I’ve also added my own slight headcanon that Adrien was only homeschooled during the period of his mother’s sickness and ‘death’ as my interpretation of the canon given to us in the movie. Take it or leave it. So he was friends with Nino prior to everything but he’s since shut him out.
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rosekasa · 1 month
Note
58 for the kiss prompt??
HI ILY THANK U FOR THIS
58. “It’s been years since we’ve seen each other and I didn’t know what happened to you because of secret identities” kiss from this list by @kisspromptsforthelovesquare
The train of her dress catches in the jamb when she slams the door. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she says.
Adrien looks down at his loafers. The floor has been freshly polished. This room is probably booked for another wedding later today. After Marinette finishes taking her vows at hers.
She takes a step forward, fingers clutching so hard at her bouquet that the stems start to split. "Adrien," she says. "What did Tikki mean when she said you're Chat Noir?"
Music floats through the corridor from the other hall. He knows no one's going to wonder where he is, but what about the bride?
He swallows, still looking at his loafers. "...You weren't meant to find out today," he says quietly.
She scoffs. "So after the reception was your idea of good timing?"
Adrien says nothing.
She reaches her hands up, like she wants to scrub them down her face, then thinks better of it. They still haven't even gotten around to the actual ceremony yet -- she can't ruin her makeup.
"God, Adrien, I just--" She sighs. "How could you not have told me before?"
"...There was never a good time," he says.
"Never?" she repeats. "You came back to Paris six months ago!"
He bristles. As if he didn't think about it back then. As if he wouldn't have told her at the airport on the very first day, when she'd outrun Alya and Nino and jumped on him when her engagement ring brushed against his neck.
Does she feel differently about that hug now? Now that she knows he's Chat Noir, her ex-boyfriend, the boy who disappeared as soon as Hawk Moth was arrested?
"I don't know what you want me to say," he says. "It's not like it would've changed anything."
Her eyes cut towards him. "Adrien, do you really think I'd be getting married today if I knew who you were?"
The words hang in the air, reverbing in his ears long after it stopped in the empty room. She can't possibly mean what he thinks she means. She's been with that guy for two years, they have an apartment together, he's pretty sure she's mentioned adopting a cat soon--
"That's not--" He struggles for a moment. "Of-- of course you would, I mean, you love him--"
"Then what stopped you from telling me in the first place?"
He swallows hard.
He knew. He knew full well what would've happened if he'd told her.
Her eyes are moist behind her mascared lashes. "I can't go back out there," she says.
"What?" he says. He steps forward, edging around the skirt of her dress. "Marinette-- no. You have to."
"I can't, I--" Her voice cracks. She turns her eyes up, holding back tears.
"Marinette." He grabs her hands, almost desperately, and squeezes. "Marinette. This is your future. Your life."
"It was my life," she says. "When I thought I wouldn't see you again." Her gaze shifts back to his face. "How can I promise myself to someone that isn't you?"
Her ring feels like a blade against his thumb.
"You kind of already did," he whispers.
She sighs. Her head drops to rest on his chest. Her veil looks like a white tulip petal, spreading across the floor behind her.
Careful not to dislodge her bun, he cups her head. Leaning his face down, he kisses her hair.
"You'll be okay," he says softly. He takes her by the arms and helps her straighten. "You'll be more than okay. I mean, he has much better hair than me anyway."
She laughs wetly, dabbing at her lashes with a finger. "That's impossible and you know it."
He cracks a pained smile.
He wonders when the next flight out of Paris is tonight.
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mcheang · 6 months
Text
Reality
As Nino lays out his plan for targeting Gabriel, Alya points out one thing. “Sure I know Ladybug can fix the mess an akuma causes. But Gabriel will still be mad. He already doesn’t like you, Nino. Don’t push it. For all we know, Gabriel might threaten to transfer Adrien to a different school. Remember, he totally lost it when Adrien lost his book?”
Nino: oh…right. I didn’t think of that. Then, who do we target?
Marinette grins sneakily. “I know someone who can get upset very easily.”
Adrien: really, who?
Marinette: i don’t want to spoil the surprise.
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Later, as the parent-teacher meeting commenced, Marinette bursts in, “Oh, I’m so sorry to barge in like this. But I forgot I needed Mrs Rossi’s signature for Lila’s trip to Achu.”
Caline: Marinette, can’t this wait?
Mrs Rossi: what trip to Achu?
Caline and Marinette look at her. “You know, the trip she’s taking to join Prince Ali in teaching children for free. It’s such a shame that she won’t be able to attend the school’s weeklong camping trip but it’s for a good cause.
Mrs Rossi stands up. “My daughter is doing what?”
Caline: why are you so surprised, Mrs Rossi? Lila went to Achu for months less than a week after she joined Dupont.
Mrs Rossi: she told me the school was shut down from akuma attacks!
Marinette pretended to look faint. “Oh no, was it because of her special lying disease?”
Mr Cesaire looked skeptical. “A lying disease…? Do you mean compulsive lying?”
Gabriel almost regretted not being able to akumatize Mrs Rossi, if only to make up for losing Lila Rossi as a spy since clearly Alliance can no longer use her. Oh well, there’s always the fallout when her sheep find out.
Alya and Nino were recording this with open mouths. Adrien wasn’t so bothered by this after seeing more of Lila’s hateful personality.
Needless to say, the parent-teacher conference was delayed as Sabine then angrily wanted justice for her daughter if she was indeed framed by a liar. Gabriel had to admit the teaching faculty here was lousy to fall for Lila’s reception, but that’s what makes this place so prime for his akumas! Why did he send Adrien here again? Oh right, it’s the most prestigious school and he’ll never hear the end of it from Andre because Chloe would never accept his perfect son being in another school away from her.
Later, after Marinette received an apology from Mrs Rossi, she agreed to bring Lila up. Alya and Nino looked apologetic. “We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you.”
Marinette looked behind her. “It’s ok. Keep recording. If Mrs Rossi isn’t angry enough to attract an akuma, her daughter will be. Nothing akumatizes Lila like being caught.”
Lila was immediately suspicious when Marinette of all people came to get her, however it was subdued by Marinette’s poorly hidden dislike and the fact that it was Gabriel who asked her to come.
Certain that Mr Agreste wanted her help against a stupid boy’s resistance team, she agreed.
Boy was Lila surprised to see Sabine and her mother standing in front of the classroom instead of Mr Agreste, who looked disappointed in her.
Uh oh. Now Lila could see Marinette’s triumphant face and could see what had happened. Her one consolation was that the team’s plan to anger a parent into akumatization had failed. Though she was also irked she couldn’t get akumatized and make that loser suffer for exposing her like this. This is worse than Ladybug’s exposing her in front of Adrien!
As Lila was dragged by her mother to the principal’s office, Caline tried to resume the parent-teacher conference though it was clear all now felt disheartened by her incompetence.
The resistance was confused. Angry Rossis and disappointed parents were around. Where was the akuma?
Eventually they had to give up. What a waste of free period.
Not entirely a waste though since Lila was now exposed. Alya sent the recording to the whole class as the parents left.
Outraged gasps were heard everywhere.
Nino: why didn’t you wait till class was about to start? Then we could prepare to record the akumatization.
Adrien: if Monarch didn’t come out for Mrs Rossi and Lila, I doubt he’ll come for-
Reverser promptly swooped by, ready to turn Lila nice and honest.
Adrien: never mind.
Marc was deakumatized and the class apologized to Marinette for not believing her.
Lila returned to class, sulky in her forced apology, not really bothered by their angry reactions now that she was expelled. Only Marinette’s smug attitude infuriated her. Having been forced honest by Reverser, she had confessed to having duped two other women into being her mothers and had initially planned on running away to join one of them. Her mother now has their numbers. It was a nightmare.
Alya: who else can we akumatize for the greater good? Mayor Bourgeois?
Marinette: I don’t think our plan works if we our expected target isn’t even akumatized. We’ll have to think of something else.
Monarch is disappointed he won’t get to akumatize the akuma class again for a while. Ah well, it can be a favor to Adrien.
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