#also much thanks to mystic and rena

[infernaleikon]

riding the law au aka 50 y/o obi-wan who’s getting divorced and has the hots for 23 y/o law student anakin who is assisting with his case

enjoy!

(3k)

*    *     *

“You could at least try to look happier to be here,” Quinlan says without looking up from studying the desserts as he flips the page of the menu. “It’s not like I’m making you put out after. Although, it might improve your mood.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, barely holding back an inelegant snort. “If you made me put out for inviting me to lunch?”

“Baby, you would be begging me for some sweet birthday love before the desserts are served if I turned it on,” Quinlan quips without missing a beat. When Obi-Wan flicks his eyes up to look at him, Quinlan is still studying his menu but the smirk on his face is insufferably cocky.

“Don’t call me baby.” Obi-Wan already regrets agreeing to come out for lunch today. He had very firm plans to avoid his phone or thinking about his current state of affairs by day drinking on his couch while watching wildlife or history documentaries. But in a moment of incandescent insanity he had made the mistake of telling Quinlan as much.

Which had landed him here. At a stupidly fancy restaurant for lunch with his best friend (though he is currently debating that label, really), in a fine suit, and nowhere near the sad state he’d hoped to be in by this time of day (without the option of achieving it either, given the very public and very pretentious setting).

“Sorry, daddy,” Quinlan says, and maybe Obi-Wan doesn’t need to get drunk. Maybe he needs to whack Quinlan. In the very public and very pretentious restaurant. The menu is solid enough to make it sting, at the very least.

Quinlan snaps his menu shut and leans back in his chair. “No objections to the sweet birthday love then?” he drawls. “The big five-oh deserves a formidable…entry, you know.”

“I will enter you,” Obi-Wan answers, reaching for his wine glass, “in a Taylor Swift lookalike contest. After bleaching your hair.”

Quinlan clutches at his chest with wide eyes and a barely concealed grin. “Vicious,” he gasps with faux-terror. “And here I thought you’d lost your edge and turned—” He scrunches his nose. “—vanilla.”

“Compared to you I have always been vanilla,” Obi-Wan says before taking a sip from his wine. At least his day involves day drinking after all.

Quinlan grins, wide and toothy, moving his own glass to make the wine swirl. He hums, eyeing Obi-Wan over the rim as he takes a sip. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, stud.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t deign to answer and instead returns to studying his menu. It’s never a good idea to let himself be goaded by Quinlan, and after years of friendship he does know all of Obi-Wan’s buttons, and even though he’s always insufferable about it, sometimes he pushes them to make Obi-Wan feel better.

“Aren’t you excited to be able to let loose in your prime cougar years?” Quinlan asks. “I distinctly remember you saying you look forward to getting finer.”

“I said older,” Obi-Wan points out without looking up.

“Same thing.” There’s that grin in Quinlan’s voice. He’s clearly not yet given up. “Come on, Kenobi, unclench. Why are you suddenly acting like your life is over?”

Obi-Wan sighs as he puts his menu down. “I’m f—”

“Mr. Kenobi?” a voice cuts in, and Obi-Wan snaps his mouth shut.

There’s an excited flutter in his chest, warm and thrilling, as he turns to face the source of the voice.

Anakin.

Anakin who had told Obi-Wan how excited he is about the opportunity to help out at the firm and with Obi-Wan’s case to gain work experience while studying to become a lawyer himself. Anakin who soaks up Obi-Wan’s attention like he’s been starving for it. Anakin who, in turn, gives Obi-Wan his own undivided attention whenever they talk, focusing on him like a laser and making Obi-Wan sweat from it beneath his shirt.

Anakin who is twenty-three years old.

Anakin who is blinking big, blue eyes at him, a faint but earnest smile playing around the corners of his mouth as Obi-Wan meets his gaze.

Obi-Wan unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Anakin says as his eyes trail curiously over to Quinlan. “I saw you when I came in, and I thought I’d say hi.”

“No apologies necessary,” Obi-Wan says, waving him off. His mouth feels bone-dry. “Just having lunch with my f—”

“His side piece,” Quinlan cuts in with the sharp grin of a wolf. He’s leaned back in his chair, one arm hung over the backrest and holding his glass in the other hand, and oh, Obi-Wan is going to—

“He’s—you’re not.” Obi-Wan turns from Anakin to Quinlan. It comes out with far more vehemence than he anticipates, carrying a note of urgency and desperation that is entirely unbecoming on someone his age, really, especially regarding this; especially in front of Anakin. “You’re not flexible enough to be my side piece.”

Quinlan sniffs. “It’s not like you give me time to stretch.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t groan. He should’ve known better than to engage Quinlan. He does know better. “You know you don’t have to take every opening I give you,” he points out, and regrets it immediately.

Quinlan’s grin grows impossibly sharper.

“Don’t.” Obi-Wan levels him with a look and watches Quinlan raise his eyebrows, shrugging nonchalantly.

Turning back to Anakin, Obi-Wan finds him looking—Obi-Wan would say intrigued if he didn’t know better. There is a part of him that wants to run wild imagining the things Anakin would find enthralling, the things he’d enjoy, the kind of banter he’d engage in and how he’d react. But Anakin’s gaze sweeps over Quinlan once more before returning to Obi-Wan and it’s—unsurprising and not even quite disappointing. Quinlan has an effortless charm about him that’s hard to compete with.

Not that Obi-Wan is competing. He may be on his last shred of composure and dignity when it comes to Anakin but that one is still holding.

For now.

“Apologies,” Obi-Wan offers. Anakin blinks as if he’s coming back to himself. “Quinlan grew up surrounded by mannequins, with no human interaction, so he doesn’t know what is appropriate in social situations and what is not.”

“Sorry, daddy,” Quinlan chimes in.

Obi-Wan very nearly kicks him under the table.

“Uh,” Anakin says as he drops his eyes to his feet. There’s a flush high on his cheeks: a pretty, dusky pink that draws Obi-Wan’s attention like a beacon. He’s seen Anakin blush before; he actually quite enjoys flustering that boy himself and watching the color spread across his tanned skin. Anakin’s responsiveness is intoxicating. It’s dangerous.

Anakin looks back up and releases his bottom lip, now even plumper than usual and slightly shiny with spit, from between his teeth.

Obi-Wan’s last shred grows precariously thin.

Anakin clears his throat before he says, “Uh, nice to—um—meet you,” as he turns his attention to Quinlan once more.

Obi-Wan is never going out with Quinlan again, no matter how slim the chances are of running into Anaki—people. Who Obi-Wan may or may not be more or less ruinously attracted to.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan starts before Quinlan gets rolling again, “works at the law firm handling m—the divorce. He’s helping with the case.”

Quinlan’s eyebrows rise in interest and so does Obi-Wan’s blood pressure. “Is he?” Quinlan comments, in a tone that is far too casual for Obi-Wan’s liking. He hums, diverting his gaze from Obi-Wan back to Anakin. “And how is that going?”

Anakin ducks his head again and the way his lashes fan out over his cheeks is criminal. Obi-Wan takes a sip of his wine, bemoaning the fact that its quality is too good to burn on the way down his throat to distract him.

“Sorry we couldn’t get you your dog,” Anakin says, looking back up and squarely at Obi-Wan. The earnestness in Anakin’s big, blue eyes makes Obi-Wan’s gut clench with the desire to ravish him.

He smiles mildly instead. “Oh, that is quite alright,” he promises. “It has always been Satine’s dog. I am not a pet person myself. But the dog did get me the beach house in Naboo.” Despite himself, Obi-Wan can’t keep the satisfied glee out of his voice entirely.

Quinlan barks out a laugh and Anakin stares at Obi-Wan as if he’s seeing him for the first time. Which, Obi-Wan supposes, cursing himself for his own arrogance, he does. Leveraging the damn dog to get the beach house had been a dick move but he’d felt petty and vindictive at the time. Satine loves her flea carpet too much to have given it up just to spite Obi-Wan. Of course, Obi-Wan hadn’t told Anakin any of that for fear of losing Anakin’s eager attention.

Good job.

“Oh.” It rushes out of Anakin in an exhale. “That’s—you’re—”

“Such a bitch?” Obi-Wan suggests, choosing to own his gracelessness.

“Yeah,” Anakin says—and immediately colors beautifully. “No! No, of course not.” He clears his throat, hands flexing. “You just—you know how to get what you want.”

There’s an odd quality to his voice, a sort of low, alluring timbre that sounds…obscene.

Or maybe Obi-Wan is just a dirty old pervert.

Quinlan looks like he’s having the time of his life when Obi-Wan’s gaze lands on him after averting his eyes from Anakin. Oh, he’s never going to hear the end of this. At least Quinlan is keeping his mouth shut for once.

When Obi-Wan chances a glance back at Anakin, Anakin’s eyes are tracking over his suit, and the precise attention of his gaze makes heat rise up within Obi-Wan.

“Special occasion?” Anakin asks when he notices Obi-Wan looking. His eyes flicker to Quinlan for a brief moment.

Obi-Wan is so busy trying to decipher what conclusion Anakin could possibly have come to that he momentarily forgets to answer.

“It’s his birthday.” Quinlan mock-whispers, pressing his right hand to the left corner of his mouth conspiratorially. “He’s being very blushy about turning fifty.”

If Obi-Wan was a lesser man, he might have considered amicicide. As it is, he feels himself brace for something as a wave of dread washes over him and drowns whatever imaginary chance he may have entertained about having with Anakin.

“Fifty?” Anakin says. His eyes track over Obi-Wan like lasers. “Really?”

Quinlan smirks. “Like a fine wine.”

“I’m a very exclusive vintage,” Obi-Wan snaps. He doesn’t chug the rest of his wine but it is a close call, especially when Quinlan’s smirk grows wider, more mischievous.

“An acquired taste,” he offers.

Obi-Wan puts amicicide back on the table.

But then Anakin croaks, “Yeah,” and it sounds like all the air comes rushing out of his lungs. He looks a little faint.

“What?”

Anakin blinks and clears his throat. “I better get going, uh,” he says. Obi-Wan can watch the flush work its way down Anakin’s throat and disappear below the collar of his shirt.

(He wants to follow it all the way down with his tongue.)

“I’m, uh, running late already.” Anakin sucks in a breath. “Happy birthday, Mr. Kenobi.”

Anakin is already retreating when Obi-Wan finds his voice again. “Obi-Wan,” he corrects, without even thinking.

Anakin stops and looks at him. “Obi-Wan,” he repeats, a little wondrous, a little breathless, as if he’s revealing a secret. The sound of it runs through Obi-Wan like molten gold.

Obi-Wan clenches his jaw, imagining what his name would sound like if Anakin moaned it, gasped it, screamed it while writhing in pleasure beneath him.

With a final nod, Anakin turns and walks away. He’s not wearing a suit jacket today, exposing the long lines of his torso. Obi-Wan has wondered more than once how his hands would look on Anakin’s trim waist. As his eyes trail after him, Obi-Wan imagines grabbing it, pulling Anakin back against his body by it and—

He tears his gaze away and makes himself breathe a deep inhale and exhale.

Quinlan is practically noisily vibrating with barely contained glee when Obi-Wan turns back to him.

“Thinking about getting yourself a little birthday treat?” he asks, leaning forward like Obi-Wan is going to tell him a juicy piece of gossip any second.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan says. It’s a pointless battle, he’s aware. “I’m more than twice his age.”

Quinlan kinks an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “So?”

“He could be my—”

“Boy toy?”

He says it just as the waiter arrives at their table to take their dessert orders. Obi-Wan wonders if he can get them to substitute the coffee in their tiramisu with tequila.

He ends up ordering more wine.

“He’s cute,” Quinlan notes as he hands his menu back to the waiter.

“He’s too young for you,” Obi-Wan retorts drily. He’s drunk the last of his wine already which is a shame because he really needs to throw something back.

Quinlan snorts and wiggles his eyebrows. “Oh, he is. We both know I lean more towards…man toys.”

Obi-Wan passes a hand down his face and swallows the groan that threatens to burst out of him. Quinlan cackles as if someone told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. Bastard.

“Are you going to ask out the pretty baby lawyer?” Quinlan asks, nudging Obi-Wan with the tip of his foot under the table. “Bang it out? You deserve a nice rebound screw. I bet he meets your high standard of flexibility.”

Obi-Wan will hear about it until either he dies or Quinlan.

“Youth does not equal flexibility,” Obi-Wan points out.

“But you have fantasized about bending him in half,” Quinlan states. He states. Like it’s a fact. Like he knows it to be a proven truth.

The worst part is that he’s right. Which Obi-Wan can’t admit to his face because Quinlan might pop a gleeful aneurysm.

(…maybe Obi-Wan should admit to it.)

He’s spared the embarrassment of answering because the waiter returns with their desserts. It’s not like there is anything he can say to convince Quinlan otherwise anyway and Obi-Wan doesn’t feel like arguing about it.

“Seriously, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan starts as he generously piles his dessert’s whipped cream onto his spoon. “What’s the big deal?”

Sometimes he feels like Quinlan is being deliberately obtuse and it’s one of his most irritating qualities. “Because I am fifty, getting divorced from my wife of twenty-three years, which is, coincidentally, also how old Anakin is, and I am starting petty arguments with her just to get the things I want out of this divorce even though this split is mutual. I think I’m having enough of a midlife crisis as it is,” Obi-Wan points out through gritted teeth. He doesn’t need to add fucking a twenty-something to the list pathetic things men his age do. “Besides, Anakin is just being friendly. He saw a client, he said hello. It’s called ‘being polite’. You should add that to your behavioral repertoire.”

Quinlan looks entirely unimpressed. He scoops up more whipped cream. “A divorce isn’t a midlife crisis. Turning fifty isn’t either,” he says with a shrug before spooning the cream into his mouth. “And from where I’m sitting, Anakin was very politely turned on, so you know, that boy is DTF—down to frolic, to explain it with your elderly vocabulary, and he’s young enough to know all the tricks in the book to help you relieve all that stress and tension.”

Before Obi-Wan can respond, the waiter reappears at their table carrying a tray with two empty wine glasses and a bottle.

“We didn’t order this,” Obi-Wan explains when the waiter puts down the glasses in front of them.

“This is courtesy of Organa and Amidala,” the waiter answers with a small smile as he starts pouring the wine. “Happy birthday, Mr. Kenobi.”

Quinlan picks up the bottle once the waiter leaves and reads the label, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Courtesy of Organa and Amidala, huh?” Raising his glass to his nose to smell the bouquet, his grin widens. “A very nice vintage. Bet he really enjoys these old grapes himself.”

Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut and draws his fingers over his beard, trying to will himself away. He can feel heat rising into his face. The truth is if he allows himself to entertain any thought of actually…engaging Anakin, there is now way he’ll be able to stop. The thought of pursuing Anakin ignites an excited flutter in his stomach, a wildfire of desire that licks up his spine and dries out his mouth. Anakin entices him in a way nothing has in a long time.

It would be inappropriate to take advantage of Anakin’s interest, especially since Obi-Wan’s own stems from the selfish wish of distracting himself from his current situation and to satisfy his own desires. Anakin deserves better than that.

And yet the thought of peeling Anakin out of his suit piece by piece and spreading him out on his bed doesn’t leave Obi-Wan’s mind.

Obi-Wan surrenders his own dessert to Quinlan and decidedly does not think about having one that is way better. In return, he gets a dozen more innuendos that get progressively worse and worse but somehow still manage to make him bite back exasperated laughs.

“Your lunch has already been paid for, another courtesy by Organa and Amidala,” the waiter explains after Quinlan’s ordered the bill. He places the check presenter on the table in front of Quinlan.

Quinlan scowls. “Then what is this?”

The waiter smiles politely. “Mr. Skywalker covered Mr. Kenobi’s bill.”

Obi-Wan has rarely seen Quinlan this flabbergasted. His gaze drops from the waiter to Obi-Wan and he narrows his eyes at Obi-Wan’s barely contained smirk.

“You deserve each other,” he hisses as he puts his credit card into the presenter and hands it back over.

Obi-Wan starts to believe that that may be true.

*     *     *

anakin, explaining the 600 dollar bottle of wine on the bill: it’s mr. kenobi’s birthday 👉👈

padme:

anakin: it’s his fiftieth birthday 🥺 👉👈

[thebigpapilio]

The Father, The Children & The Unholy Terrors

This is a sequel to The Koopa, The Dad, & The Better!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796473/chapters/47990149#workskin

It had been about 3.5 years since Bowser took Hawkmoth down, and a lot of things had happened. For starters, Mario & Peach had divorced - on good terms, thankfully - because Peach could tell Mario wasn’t happy as King, and more recently, come out as bi (though there was no information on significant others). The more-than-accepting Mushroom World mostly theorized on Daisy & Rosalina being her potential lover for female partners, but Bowser knew that the two were practically her sisters, so he pshaw’d at the rumors and went about his business. Things were happy.

Well, they were, anyways.

If Bowser thought Hawkmoth was irritating the first time, he hadn’t seen anything yet; the Koopa King was utterly livid in reaction to the attacks of the ex-fashion mogul. Somehow the villain had not only recovered the Moth Miraculous and found his way to the Mushroom World but had kidnapped all 8 of his children, turning them into his akumas and wreaking havoc upon not only the Koopa & Mushroom Kingdoms but other lands as well, all in a bid to raise an army, go to his home world & take the Miraculous.

The second he found out, Bowser sent for the Mario Brothers and any other hero he could find, even going to the Miraculous World (as Bowser had begun to call it) and getting the aid of Chat Noir & his Ladybug, who had not only learned each other’s identities and were thinking of retiring from the hero business but were willing to do one last job to stop the Black Cat’s father.

Ultimately, however, even with the help he was getting Bowser wanted to save his kids. He went on his way to Hawkmoth’s first conquered domain, the Initial Steppes. With the help of Wario, Waluigi & King Monkey, Roy - or the magic-flinging Orby Son - was tracked down & while it wasn’t fun to fight him, Roy was eventually restored to his senses.

When his sunglasses were broken, however, no akuma slipped out. This was useful information that he should have checked with Chat; now knew this was not the Moth Miraculous’ doing, but someone else with similar magic.

Bowser knew of nobody who had those powers others than Hawkmoth, though, so he didn’t have a certain place or person to search for.

After getting Roy to the Mushroom Kingdom, where he entrusted the Koopa Kingdom-trained security force to ensure he wasn’t taken again, Bowser & another set of allies continued on their quest to save the Koopa King’s kids.

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The rest of the Koopalings were saved more quickly than Bowser expected. He’d thought whoever was doing this would be stronger than Hawkmoth if they could essentially replicate a Miraculous’ powers.

In the Shifty Sand Desert, Pop Nova was reformed as Iggy with the help of Captain Toad, Toadette, & the help of two new heroes - Rongeuse & Doux Bœuf, a young couple with promise rings.

After adventuring through the Deeper Deeper Depths, the mystic Mullen O.P. was brought back to the form of Larry, Bowser being aided by the new heroes Tigresse Violette & Boaroness (an adorable opposites-attract couple) as well as - to his surprise & awe - Peach, Rosalina & Mayor Pauline. Not only did Bowser save another of his children, he figured out who Peach’s secret someone special was; he’d caught those lovesick stares between the leaders clad in pink and red.

With the help of Donkey Kong, Diddy Kong, Dixie Kong & Cranky Kong, Bowser traversed through their home island, and soon Pegasus & Lapine (who apparently had been almost prophesied to become a Miraculous holder) joined him in his battle against Plasmatica, returning her to Wendy.

Then, Bowser traveled through the ice monster-infested Freezyfreak Peak, battling Big Downey & Circus Freak while backed up by Queen Bee, Carapace, Rena Rouge and even the duo of Petey Piranha & King Boo, which was a bigger surprise than it should have been; Bowser had went to the good side, and it appeared the two now-ex-villains followed the Koopa King’s example. When Morton was saved, he and Bowser had a talk about changing Morton’s name, as the big-mouthed brute had been having some personal issues once the truth about Morton Koopa Senior’s crude behavior & manipulation of the current king, and Bowser had beat himself up for a bit for making things look like Morton couldn’t trust him with the truth.

The final Koopaling to be saved was Ludwig in the oddly-named Bright Land, who had been transformed into Decomposer. Bowser was not alone in restoring his eldest adopted child - Ryuuko, Viperion, Yoshi & Birdo showed up to give him a hand.

Bowser received a lead from Ludwig. It was a big, mostly-white figure who had taken Bowser’s kids, and also still had Bowser Junior. The Koopa Kingdom’s leader then knew who had done the dastardly deeds. Informing everyone, Bowser & his allies set off for the Dry Dry Desert.

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“DRY ME, YOU SKELETAL SCOUNDREL, COME HERE AND FACE ME!” Bowser roared, punching open the dusty door where Bowser Junior & the perpetrator were reportedly held.

As predicted, Dry Bowser stood there, a dark-energy-covered Bowser Junior standing at his side.

“I’m here, my fleshy form. Whatever do you need? Perhaps… you want my new protégé back?”

“YOUR WHAT? NO! THAT AIN’T HAPPENING! RETURN HIM TO NORMAL, NOW!”

“Well, I’d normally be more than fine with doing so, but forgive me if I’m not too excited - you stole my new generals!”

“WELL, YOU STOLE THEM FIRST, AND FROM ME! I MAY BE A GOOD GUY NOW-”

“And that’s my other problem with you. What happened? Just because your father expressed his superiority to the Mushroom Kingdom badly doesn’t mean you should give up on the legacy he created for you!”

“...so you knew my dad? I thought you were reborn from me, or related, or something like that.” Dry Bowser’s voice suddenly deepened and gained more rumble behind it. “We are indeed related, but Dry Bowser is not. He is merely my current vessel.”

The pieces clicked.

“...Father.”

From beyond the grave, the spirit of Morton gave a dark cackle. “Indeed, my son, it is I! I sensed you were disgracing the royal Koopa lineage, so I came at once! Your behavior is unforgivable, so the bloodline of the mistaken Koopas shall end with you!”

“The only disgraceful & unforgivable Koopa is you!”

Standing at the now purified Bowser Junior’s side were Mario, Luigi, Chat Noir & Ladybug.

“WHAT? NO!” Morton roared. Seizing the opportunity, Bowser rushed the possessed Dry Bowser and with a resounding POW, he knocked the skeletal vessel’s skull right off. From the area where his head was, the dark spirit of Morton rose, preparing to attack his son, alongside his friends.

Suddenly getting an idea, Ladybug chucked her yo-yo at the ghostly form, and as she predicted with a lucky guess, it sucked up the foul father’s foggy form, banishing him to the afterlife for good.

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Bowser had thanked the Miraculous heroes profusely before they left for their world.

“You helped save mon chaton and potentially the world,” Ladybug just shrugged it off, “this is the least we could do, right?”

Bowser and Adrien would keep it contact, helping each other through the mental issues caused by their male creators. Both knew they had allies and families who would be with them the whole way, and it made them happy.

There wasn’t much else that could be used to describe their feelings - Bowser and Adrien had always had trouble expressing themselves until these times, after all.

[redsky123love]

Why do you have a Stripper Pole in your Room? Chapter 1: A team and a Pole

                                    "Miraculous for the win!"

Ladybug shouted as she waves her fist in the air with a smile on her face. In front of her was a scared child that was staring up at five teenagers of the rainbow. Seconds later, Paris was cheering the five teens on before they jumped away onto the nearest rooftop. Once on the highest point, that wasn't the tower, the five teens looked at each other with smiles.

"Oh my gosh, that was amazing Ladybug!" Rena Rouge shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Yea, like how you swooped in and wrestle that guys henchmen to the ground was pawesome!" Chat said with hearts in his eyes as he leans over for a hug. Only to be rejected by her gentle hand brushing against his face.

"Thank you, but I couldn't do it without your help." She said as she gives each and everyone a smile as she looks at the indivisual:

"Queen Bee, without your bombs we would have never broken through his force field."

"Oh stop it!" Queen Bee says with a blush. Ladybug's eyes then move to the green hoodied male.

"Coquille dure (Hard-shell in French. I think that's a cool name!) Without your shield-shell, he would have hurt those people." Ladybug said.

"Thanks Bug!" Coquille dure said in a hyper voice. She then turns her head to Rena Rouge.

"Your illusions helped saved the day by tricking him his plan worked." Ladybug said. "Nice thinking at the last minute too by the way."

"Thank you!" She said.

"And my partner since the beginning, thank you so much for…uh…" Ladybug was lost for words since this would be the first time she compliments him. To be honest though, he really didn't do much than just punch him alongside Ladybug. It was helpful, but it wasn't that special.

"Good job on not getting…brainwashed." She said, this made the yellow bee burst into laughter.

"OH MY GOD!" She laughed. Chat Noir crosses his arms over his chest as he stares daggers at the blonde girl. When her eyes made contacted with his, she immediately stops. Then pretends to brush something her shoulder. His green eyes then look over to his princess, they were sad, as if someone had stepped on his tail sad.

"Chat Noir, you and I have been doing this longer than them. You know I appreciate you 100%." She said, this made him form into a sideways, upside-down three. "Although I was a bit suspicious on how you knew how to ride down a pole."

"Practice my lady." Chat said with a smirk.

"You're a pole dancer!?" Ladybug asked.

"That would actually explain your costume." Rena Rouge said with a smirk.

"No, it does not!" Chat said.

"You look like a character from a BDSM hentai comic. The one character that tricks the pretty big breasted girl into going into his basement of sexual torture. And once there, you change into this outfit to violate her in so many ways, to the point she loses all her sense and gives into the painful pleasure. Basically becoming a mindless sex slave." Queen Bee said. Making everyone look at her with an expression of horror and discomfort.

"What the actual living fuck?" Chat asked. You could hear the small hint of fear rolling off his tongue. Coquille dure looks over to Ladybug and scans her a bit. Staring at her somewhat noticeable big pillow's that was her bust. He then looks at Chat for a second before saying:

"Dude…she not wrong though."

"I am not or ever will be a hentai character! Bedside's, Ladybug would probably kick my ass if I were to do that to her! It's a waste of my time!" Chat said. The remaining three slowly backs away from the two blondes in fear for their lives. Rena Rouge leans towards Ladybug and whispers:

"I would watch my back…" She whispers.

"OH COME ON!" Chat shouted. This made Ladybug giggle at his reaction.

"She's just joking, your all joking!" She said, but deep down inside she was like:

Dear god I hope they are joking…

Before anyone could say anything, Ladybug's Miraculous started to beep. Telling the girl it was time to go. Seconds later, the area was being filled with loud beeping sounds coming from all directions.

"TIME TO GO! BREAK!" Ladybug shouted at her teammates. Dismissing all of her comrades before soaring through the skies to get home. Once on her balcony, she changes back into Marinette with a bright pink flash. With her tiny friend floating in the air.

"Another Akuma defeated! I am proud of you Marinette, your such a great leader!" Tikki said with a weak smile as she takes a seat on the wooden rail. The blue haired girl nods her head to her friend's words. But she didn't look too happy, in fact, she looked rather sad.

"What's wrong?" Tikki asked.

"I feel sort of bad about what I said to Chat. You know, when I was giving props to everyone." Marinette said. "Why couldn't I think of anything to say to him."

"Because your use to him and he's already special." Tikki said. "Don't worry Marinette, I am sure Chat noir knows you care for him."

(Adrien)

"SHE THINK'S IM WORTHLESS!"

Adrien shouted in his walk-in closet with tears running down his eyes. The door to his walk-in closet was closed, he was sitting on his knee's in front of a wall he dedicated to Ladybug. No seriously, it was a closet space that he decorated with Ladybug pictures, stuff toys and even Ladybug pattern candles that leaked wax in the shame of a heart. Plagg, for some unknown reason, would lay a doll on the shrine with a pink jacket and ballerina shoes next to the candle.

"Dude she didn't say you were worthless." Plagg said as he lays the doll on the shrine. "Also, I think your crush is going a little too far."

"It's a shrine!"

"It's creepy! Why not be normal and have a picture of her on your phone!?" Plagg asked. Adrien pulls out his phone and show's Plagg the millions of pictures Ladybug…even the hentai fanart of her and Chat.

"What is wrong with you humans and drawing pictures like that! You are children for Christ sakes! And why do you even have those pictures on your phone!?" Plagg shouted.

"It fills the hole of my dreams."

"Those are some perverted dreams." Plagg said in shame. Adrien rolled his eyes before standing up from his position. Getting to his feet, he stretches a bit before looking at the shrine of his beloved Bug.

"Please…give me a sign that our love will happen! Please tell me universe in some form of way that she and I will be one!" Adrien said. And as asked, the universe did send a message. By having the candles are blown out and the doors to the closet shut without the help of no one. The eye's of both Plagg and Adrien widen at the sight of this.

"That some was some mystical shit, man." Plagg said before flying into Adrien's back pocket. The blonde nods his head before quickly walking out of the room. Once he opens his doors, his milky smooth coloring of skin fades to pure white at the sight of his father.

"DADDY!" Adrien shouted in shock.

"Son?" Gabriel asked as he takes a peek at his son walk in closet. Gabriel didn't know about his son's fascination with Ladybug…truthfully he didn't know anything about Adrien.

"Hi…" Adrien said with an awkward smile. Plagg sticks his head out from Adrien's back pocket to listen to this conversation better.

"What were you doing in the closet?" Gabriel asked as an eyebrow raises a bit. Adrien was looking around the room for an excuse to say to his father, but he couldn't come up with one.

"Nothing…" Adrien muttered.

"You expect me to believe you weren't doing anything in the closet beside talking to yourself?" Gabriel growled. He tries to push Adrien to the side, but the young man stops him.

"What are you hiding boy?" Gabriel asked his father.

"I…" Adrien's voice was shaking. But, he came up with something that would keep his dad out of his room. "I was…masturbating."

The blonde boy said, making his father stop in his tracks. He then backs steps out of the closet. Plagg was slowly making his way back into his master pocket. Gabriel just shakes his head in shame before walking into the middle of the room. Adrien closes the door of the closet before walking over to the lonely pole that was near his bed. Gripping the metal, he spins his body around it as he slowly glides down to the ground.

"Adrien, Nat has you down for a shoot at 11 tonight." Gabriel said as he turns his attention to the dust on Adrien's coffee table that was in the middle of his room. Adrien, who was still on the pole for some weird reason. As his father talks, he twists his body around a bit around the pole. He then grips the end before swinging his body in an upwards motion, allowing his legs to dangle past his head. Gabriel turns his body around to look at his son.

"Once done I want you straight…ADRIEN?" Gabriel shouted at his son. Making the blonde male fall to the ground on his back with a loud thump sound. Even Nat heard it from downstairs, she then heard the screams of:

"HOW DID YOU FALL!?" Gabriel shouted.

"I THINK MY HANDS ARE STILL STICKY!" Adrien shouted back at his father. Nat looks up the stairs with a confused expression as the yelling continued.

"WASH YOUR HANDS!" Gabriel shouted.