#i mean. brandish 3 totally delivered on those expectations as much as it could. to me

[chemicalbrew]

*slaps roof of everblight/yzana plains and rain of lamentation/tears of god* these songs can fit so much magic and atmosphere and mysterious loaded expectations

[aellynera]

Mr. & Mrs. Cooper (Part 2 - Bud Cooper x Reader)

MR. & MRS. COOPER (Part 2)

(part one here)

(guys seriously I have no idea how this went so rogue, but it is inspired by a certain movie that I just thought would fit into the “perfect suburban household” idea. And because I can’t control it, there will be a Part 3.)

Word Count: 1854

Summary: Dinner at the Cooper house is a little more interesting than either of you expected.

Warnings: Eh, little bit of language. Smooches.

Bud arrived home at exactly 6:00, right as you were putting the dish of vegetables on the table. He always got home exactly at 6. He was very punctual.

He entered the house and set his briefcase on the floor. Before he had gotten out of the car, he had taken a select few photos out and stuck them in his pocket.

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” he called into the kitchen.

You walked out with a pot roast in your hands and smiled brightly at your husband. After setting the dish on the table, you wiped your hands on your apron and walked over to him. “Welcome home, baby,” you cooed as you slid into his arms and wrapped your own around his neck. He might be a dirty liar, but he was still extremely attractive.

Bud pulled you into an embrace and lowered his lips onto yours. “Mmmm, I missed you,” he mumbled against your mouth. It was still true, even if he knew better than to trust you now.

You returned his kiss with equal passion. “I missed you too,” you replied. “Dinner is on the table.”

“Mm, pot roast, my favorite.” He surveyed the table as he released you from his embrace. Dinner looked amazing, as always. You looked amazing, as always. When did you find the time to make everything so perfect when you were…

Bud’s thoughts were cut off as you picked up the carving knife to start slicing the roast. He came up behind you wrapping his arms around you and placed a hand over yours so you now both held onto the knife.

You paused. Something about the way he was pressed up against you and how his hand caressed over yours - your left hand, of course, the one with your wedding band, the one that currently held a extremely large, extremely sharp knife - felt off. But maybe you were imagining it. It was completely normal for him to cozy up to you like he was. You realized what was it was. You felt something sharp, like the corner of a paper maybe, poke into the back of your thigh. 

Something was in Bud’s pocket.

“Everything all right, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a light breath across your ear. You shivered but tried to hide it as best you could.

You smiled. “Everything is fine,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. Just making sure my best girl is happy and satisfied and content, is all,” he said as he gave you a quick peck on the cheek and went to sit down. Your shoulders relaxed just a bit as you finished serving the roast. You had to pretend as best you could that everything was normal. Your life was totally normal.

The rest of dinner was served and Bud poured you both a glass of wine. Silence fell over the table for a few long minutes as you both ate and drank. You kept a keen eye on him, watched as he took precise bites of roast and vegetables and almost delicate sips of the red wine. He looked tired, as he usually did after a day in the office, but otherwise normal. Handsome, gorgeous, sexy… If only he knew what you knew.

Bud watched you as he ate, and he knew you were watching him. He continued eating, keenly observing as he did so. He didn’t make any conversation. He’d felt the corner of something, a piece of paper maybe, poke him in the chest as he’d given you that honey-I’m-home kiss. 

There was something in your pocket.

So he watched you while trying to make it look like he wasn’t watching you. You ate in small bites, finished all the vegetables before you went on to the meat. You always ate the vegetables first. You looked a little tired, like you usually did after making dinner after a day of housework, but otherwise normal. Beautiful, radiant, sexy… If only you knew what he knew.

“Everything all right, love?” you asked as you sipped on your own wine.

Bud smiled. “Everything is great. As usual.” 

“Hard day at the office?” you continued.

Bud shook his head and shrugged a shoulder. “No, not really. Nothing other than the usual, investigations and clients and all that mundane insurance stuff. You’d be bored if I told you.”

“Mmmm.” You smirked. “You’re probably right.”

“What about you, darling? How did your day go?” Bud smiled at you over his wine glass.

You put down your fork and twisted your strand of pearls absently. “Same old, same old. Weeded the garden, did the laundry, got dinner together, cleaned your office…”

Bud stopped all movement for a split second. He chewed his bite of roast, swallowed, and put his fork down. His eyebrow arched and he leaned back in his chair. “Really.”

You noticed it wasn’t a question, but you smiled in return. “Mmmhmm. It was a disaster, Bud, it needed to be cleaned up. There’s so much paper in there, if I didn’t know you better I would think you’re hoarding.” Damn it, you’d almost said hiding. Had he noticed? Your finger idly stroked your dinner knife.

“Yeah, sorry about that, baby. I kept meaning to clean it up but you know how work has been going lately, I just haven’t gotten around to it, I’ll make it up to you.” You never cleaned his office, that was just about his only actual rule for the household. He didn’t care if you wanted to sit on the porch all day and gossip with the neighbor ladies or take up random hobbies or even if you had dinner on the table every night when he got His lip twitched. “Find anything important?”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. Well, there it was. Bud wasn’t one of the top insurance investigators for nothing. Straight to the point, your husband tended to be. You kept your face as neutral as possible. “No,” you shrugged. Was he interrogating you? This was not the way you’d planned it; you were supposed to 

“Hmm,” Bud smiled and took another sip. “Oh, I almost forgot.” His grin grew into a smirk of his own. “A package got delivered to the office today.”

“Oh?” you asked. Sudden paranoia rose in your chest. Packages got delivered to offices all the time, why was this worth mentioning? It couldn’t be...oh. Shit.

“Apparently the address it was supposed to go to got washed off, like in the rain or something. So they delivered it to my office because somewhere on the envelope, it said Cooper and they figured that was a good place to drop it. Yeah, yeah, it was...very interesting.”

All the color drained from your face. Bud’s face was almost expressionless. Almost. You thought you detected just a tiny bit of...uncertainty? Confusion? Maybe...apprehension.

You and Bud stared at each other over the table. The tension that suddenly fell over the room was almost unbearable, like being wrapped in a wet blanket in a sauna. Neither of you moved and it felt like you were barely breathing. You could hear the clock on the wall, ticking. The faucet in the kitchen, dripping. Your blood in your ears, rushing. Your left eye, ever so slightly twitching. Just staring at each other for what felt like a thousand years but was only really about ten actual seconds.

Then the tension snapped like a dry twig in a forest fire and all the shit in the universe burst into your reality. 

You were on your feet before you realized it. You reached into your pocket at the same time Bud stood up and reached into his pocket and you both threw your hidden documents onto the table with a resounding thwack! and in the next second you were brandishing your dinner knife and Bud was pointing a fork at you.

“What the hell is this!” you both shouted at each other at exactly the same time.

Neither of you said anything and both of you pushed the evidence toward each other. Both sets of eyes narrowed. You gripped your knife a little tighter and Bud raised his fork.

“Explain, Bud Cooper,” you finally spat out. You slowly inched backwards into the kitchen.

Bud motioned towards you with the fork while his other hand loosened his tie. “You first, Mrs. Cooper.”

Your head cocked to the side as you raised an eyebrow. “Bud Cooper. My dear husband. That is a hit contract and my name is on it!”

“Mrs. Cooper. My beloved wife. Those are surveillance photos of me, taken from our front porch!” he shot back.

“You work for the mob!”

“Yeah, well, who do you work for? Rivals? FBI? No, wait, CIA!”

You backed up as far as you could, until you were up against the sink. Bud followed you, matched your pace, but kept the distance between you even. You both still held your cutlery at the ready.

“How did you not know I worked in intelligence?” You hardly believed he didn’t really know.

“How did you not assume there would be a hit on you?” He rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes. You realized in an instant that neither of you were denying anything, and you both had really known about this a lot longer than either of you were willing to admit. But you were just supposed to do surveillance on him and he had your name on a contract for the local mob boss and you let out a strangled squeak and dropped your knife in shock. Then you grabbed for the next nearest object - the broom.

The bristles swung exceptionally close to his face and Bud, in turn, let out a strangled squawk of his own as you cleaved the broom wildly in front of you, arching the suburban artillery at him, each thrust growing more precise as your anger and frustration really bubbled to the surface. Bud dropped his fork and continued to make awkward, surprised noises as you chased him around the dining room table and towards the front door, broom undulating wildly between you.

“You were going to kill me?!” you shrieked. 

“You were going to turn me in?” he asked, wincing as the bristles brushed against the hand he held up to defend himself.

“Ohhhhhhh!! BUD COOPER!” you yelled and charged at him.

“Fuck!” he shouted as he turned and yanked the front door open.

Yanked it open just in time to almost be punched in the face by your next door neighbor, Mr. Stevens, who was just about to knock.

You and Bud froze, wide-eyed and red-face and heavy-breathed. You held the broom like a baseball bat. Mr. Stevens looked back and forth between the two of you. “Uh...is this a bad time?”

You and Bud exchanged a glance but didn’t speak. He stepped back and you dropped the broom. Both of you smoothed your hair and clothes subconsciously and then Bud spoke.

“No, no, it’s fine. Just...uh...a bit of a mess we need to clean up. Please, come in.”

Well….shit.

[captainmeowvelwrites]

You Times Two (Ch.4)

Pairing: Marinette/Ladybug | Adrien/Chat Noir Words: 4208 Summary: Ladybug knew this was necessary. She was the Guardian. He had the Cat Miraculous. But when his suit evaporated in a glow of pale green, she sure hadn’t expected him to have something far more precious: her heart. Cross-posted: AO3 and FFN

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ...

Recap: Previously, on You Times Two… To the dismay of everyone here, Mari’s Multimouse shenanigans mostly fooled our precious bean. But praise be, at least he and Kagami aren’t official. Not to him. Not yet. After a cheeky eavesdrop on our two favourite kitties, Clumsy Girl fears Sunshine Boy’s onto her. And of course, of all the times Papagreste could let his son have a social life, he does so in the midst of our girl’s existential crisis. Will Hotstuff stay single? And will Marimoo do something silly with her newfound suspicions? Read forth to find out!

---

Chapter Four

Marinette collapsed into her hot pink office chair, heaving a sigh. "What a day, Tikki." Using her feet, she launched herself toward her desk, the wheels of her chair whirring on the wooden floor. "Maybe I really wasn't exaggerating when I called this the apocalypse." She slammed her head against the desk, a stray pencil wobbling near her ear.

"Don't be silly, Marinette," said Tikki, hovering over her shoulder. "You've been through trickier situations than this before."

Marinette held up a finger. "I called him Chadrien," she garbled, her cheek squished against the desk. "As Marinette and Ladybug."

"Well," Tikki drawled, "things could always be worse."

Marinette groaned, peeling her cheek from the white wood. "But you heard him, Tikki. He suspects I'm Ladybug." She buried her face in her hands, peeking through her fingers to pout at her kwami. "I can't risk him knowing who I am before I even know if he should!"

Tikki tilted her head. "So, what are you going to do?"

Marinette's hands dropped from her face to reveal hardened eyes, now shining with purpose. "I'm going to keep our interactions to a minimum," she said, slicing a decisive hand through the air.

Tikki blinked at her owner like she'd sprouted antennae. "How do you plan to do that? You see him every day at school. He sits in front of you in class. He'll be at Alya's tomorrow. And let's not forget, he's Chat Noir!"

Marinette giggled. "I don't plan to avoid him as Chat Noir, silly. I know that's impossible." Her eyes wandered toward the ceiling as she placed a pensive finger to her lips. "But avoiding Adrien… surely I can manage that for a while?"

A smirk crept across Tikki's lips. "How long is a while?"

"Tikki!" Marinette cried, snorting back laughter as she tickled her kwami's belly. "Not for two seconds, if that's what you're thinking." Laughter continued to line her words. "Just until this whole Marinette might be Ladybug thing blows over, however long that is." She pushed off the desk and slumped into her chair, lips pursed. "Maybe I need to throw him a bone? Or should I say catnip?"

Expecting her kwami to giggle, she was surprised to instead find a worried frown on Tikki's face.

"You know, Marinette, I don't think avoiding Adrien will be as easy as you think."

Marinette slapped the air with a dismissive hand. "Come on, Tikki. How hard can it be to avoid the busiest boy in school?"

Three knocks bounced off the hatch in her floor. "Marinette?"

The girl in question nearly fell off her chair.

"It's Adrien." His voice was muffled through the wood. "Are you in there?"

Marinette flew from the chair so fast she sent it spinning. "Adrien," she squeaked, arms whipping in front of her as if to shield herself from an incoming train. "What are you – Uhh – Hi! I mean, what?" She slapped her forehead. "I mean, err… just a sec!" She pried her side bag open, watched as Tikki zipped inside it, and snapped it shut in an instant. Her steps were fast and heavy as she hurried to the hatch, almost tripping on the edge of a round rug.

Lurching the hatch in the floor aside, she found a pair of green eyes smiling up at her. "Hey Marinette!" He briefly let go of the stair railing to wave at her, drawing attention to a paper bag that crumpled as it swayed from his left arm. She glimpsed a golden emblem upon it and knew it was from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

He looked uncomfortable, hunched on the stairs to her room and unable to reach his full height. And yet he continued to smile as she gaped like a weirdo.

Finally, a giggle hiccupped in her throat. "Adrien, hi." She mirrored his wave with a little too much vigour. "Fancy seeing you here. In my house. As opposed to, uhh… school."

Adrien peered up at her from through his bangs, which remained a ruffled mess from this morning.

To her, they were like a giant neon sign on his head that read "I AM CHAT NOIR".

The sight of them had eased her a few times today.

Now, not so much.

"Sorry…" He rubbed at his neck, his cheery smile shrivelling into something more reserved. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" His eyes travelled over her shoulder, as though searching for someone. "I thought I heard talking and I—"

"Talking? Like, with another person?" Marinette shot ramrod straight. "What? Notally! I mean totally. I mean no, you totally weren't hearing that. I was just, uhh…" She managed her best take on Tikki's high-pitched voice, and sounded more like a pre-schooler with a really bad cough. "I was just talking… to… myself." She quickly gave up on her imitation of Tikki. It was already itching her throat, not to mention Adrien was blinking at her as though she had three eyes. "Yeah, so I was just… conversing… with myself. Y'know, like I said I do this morning. Some of the time. Not, y'know… all the time."

"Uhh… Okay then?" Adrien showed a smile, despite the confusion that riddled every inch of his face. "Well, in that case, I—"

"Oh, how silly of me!" Marinette held a hand out to him. "Come on up!"

His eyes twinkled, first at her and then at her hand, which he reached for willingly.

But something caught her eye.

And surprisingly, that thing wasn't the many photos of Adrien that had once littered her walls. She'd taken those down a few weeks ago, save for a couple on the corkboard above her bed, which were spritzed amid pictures of her other friends.

Ahead of her sat the trunk that housed Adrien's birthday presents (now for the next forty-eight years). And upon that trunk was Master Fu's phonograph.

Terror tainted her face. What if he recognised it?

Before he could accept her hand, she slapped it to her chest. "Actually, no. My room's a mess. It's super embarrassing." She ducked through the hatch and gripped his shoulders, coaxing him down the stairs. "Let's talk somewhere tidier."

Wait.

Had Adrien even been to Master Fu's?

She didn't think so.

Marinette ripped her hands from his shoulders, instead grabbing his wrist. "I mean, uhh. It's not that messy. Come on up." She took two steps toward her room, before screeching to a halt.

What if he had been to Master Fu's and she just didn't know?

"That'd be a disaster," she breathed.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?"

She bolted upright. "Uhh… My room. It's a total disaster. Let's talk downstairs!" Her hand remained around his wrist and before he could even open his mouth, she was all but dragging him to the foot of the stairs. She didn't miss the line that had etched between his brows.

In fact, it had her biting back a groan.

Maybe she should write a book: How To Look Stupid In One Minute Or Less.

What genre would it be? A comedy? A horror? Maybe a tragedy?

She couldn't decide.

All she knew is it wouldn't be a self-help book.

"So, umm…" Marinette tapped her pointer fingers together, her lips wiggling in thought. "What are you doing there? I mean here. In my house." Her shoulders seized. "Which I totally mind, by the way. I – I mean, which I totally don't mind." She faked a long yawn. "Sorry, I'm being a freak—I mean, it's… uhh… been a long week. Yeah, that's what I meant."

Adrien held up a hand and smiled. "It's okay, Marinette. I know you didn't sleep well last night." He slid a familiar pink bag from his back and she barely resisted the urge to smack her head against the nearby bookcase. "That's probably why you left this in class. I was stopping by the bakery anyway, so I thought I'd return it." He held the bag out to her, still wearing that warm-hearted smile of his, and she accepted it with rigid movements.

"Th – Thank you, Adrien." She pulled it over one shoulder and peered up at him, a blush grazing her cheeks. "That's very curious—I mean sweet of you."

And it was.

But why not just leave it with her parents?

Surely that would've been way easier than delivering it to her in person.

Marinette sucked in a breath. What if he was trying to figure out if she was, in fact, Ladybug?

That would involve being around her more. And annoyingly, it also happened to sabotage her own plans to avoid him.

Suspecting she was Ladybug due to her word vomit was one thing. Didn't he know better than to actively seek out her identity?

She hoped so.

Maybe she was just reading into this too much.

Adrien had always been thoughtful. This might've just been one of those times.

"Oh, it was nothing," he insisted, tearing her from those thoughts. "You've done far more for me since we met." Remembrance lit up his eyes like the flick of a switch, and he glanced at the paper bag around his wrist. "That reminds me." He strode over to the kitchen, set the bag on the counter and dipped his hand inside. "Your father mentioned his pear and pineapple cheesecake is a favourite of yours. And if your designs are anything to go by, you have really great taste." He pulled out a small carton that brandished the same golden emblem as the bag. "So, I thought you might like a slice."

"Adrien, I…" She gaped, first at him, then at the carton. "You – You didn't have to! Thank you." They exchanged smiles as she accepted the carton, and placed it on the nearby counter.

"Again, it's nothing." Adrien waved his hands out before him, as if to emphasise his point. "Honestly, I was there to get something for another friend anyway." He glanced at the paper bag, now containing two neatly stacked cartons rather than three. "But it looked so delicious, I just had to get myself a slice. And there was only one left after that, so… I thought it might make a nice start to your weekend."

Marinette felt resistance as she swallowed, her throat closing. The other slice of cake must've been for Kagami.

"That's—" Her voice cracked and she hoped he hadn't noticed. "That's, umm, really thoughtful of you." Her eyes sunk to the counter as she smoothed her hand across it, its surface cool against her palm. "I, um – I hope Papa didn't make you pay for my piece."

He gave a half-smile. "Worse! He insisted I have it for free."

She giggled. "Yup. That sounds like Papa."

Adrien set his hand flat against the counter, as though mirroring her stance. "In the end, he settled for giving me a discount."

When he leaned in close and revealed a sly smirk, her first thought was that it should've come with a warning. Chat Noir had done this a million times, but Adrien? Only once that she could recall – after Troublemaker – when he'd leaned into her personal bubble and teasingly accused her of lying about why his face was all over her room. In hindsight, that had been a very Chat thing to do.

Again, how had she been so blind?

Adrien’s voice snapped her back to the present. "Don't tell your father," he whispered behind his hand, "but I may have slipped a few notes in the tip jar when he wasn't looking."

Before she could stop herself, Marinette snorted with amusement. "I won't tell him," she said, a twinkle in her eyes, "but only because you're bribing me with cake."

"You're too kind," he actually teased—and for a second, she stopped breathing. Heck, she even snuck a glance at her arm, just to make sure she wasn't transformed. When had this become an exchange not unlike the ones shared by their alter egos?

Adrien fished his sleek smartphone from his school bag and spared it a glance. "Well, I should probably get going. I've got fencing in less than half an hour."

"Sure," said Marinette, watching as he plucked the paper bag from the counter. "I'll see you out then." She led him to the front door, opening it to reveal the dimly lit stairwell beyond. "Thanks again for bringing my backpack, Adrien. And thanks for the cake. You really didn't have to."

Adrien held up a hand. "At the risk of sounding like a broken record player, it really is nothing." He tugged the strap of his bag a little higher on his shoulder. "And I hope you enjoy the cake. It was made by the best baker in Paris"—he winked—"so that shouldn't be hard."

Marinette giggled. "I'll pass your compliments onto the chef." She glanced at the paper bag on his arm, and drooped as she eyed the two cartons within it. "Well, you'd better not keep Kagami waiting." In that moment, she was reminded of the lacklustre way she'd reacted to his new girlfriend joining them tomorrow for video games. "Uh – Actually, I – umm – I just wanted to berate—congratulate you on, well… you and Kagami." As her grip on the front door tightened, she could only hope her smile seemed sincere. "You guys… You make a cute couple."

"Oh, I – Thank you, Marinette." His eyes dropped to his feet, but not before she caught sight of the thought that hazed their depths. She recognised that look; Chat had worn it just last night, when gathering his words.

Marinette remained silent, as Ladybug had, and allowed him some time to think.

Only a few seconds ticked by, both of them still and quiet in the doorway. "Hey… err…" His eyes inched up to meet hers. "Remember the advice you gave me about Kagami?"

Marinette stiffened. "I – Uh. About the ice rink? Yeah. I remember." She laughed, but there was no real joy to the sound. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Adrien drawled, pink painting his ears, "I was kind of hoping you could give me some more advice about her… if that's all right?"

At this point, she was stiffer than the mannequin that lived in her bedroom. She hoped and hoped and hoped he wasn't wanting her to tag along on another date. She was all for helping him out, but in hindsight, that trip to the ice rink had been agony—and that was before she knew he was the cat who'd been incessantly asking her out for over a year.

"I... uhh..." Her voice sounded as though it'd been shoved through a strainer. "Sure. Um. Go away. I mean, fire ahead. No – uh – go ahead." If he hadn't been right there, she would've smacked her forehead for sure.

Adrien pressed his hands together, his eyes sinking down and to his right. "Well, you see"—he looked back at her—"despite what the media are saying, Kagami and I aren't actually official yet."

Shock flashed across Marinette's face. "Really?" She shot straight. "I – I mean, uhh… carry on."

"The thing is… Kagami thinks we are official, but I'm, well…" He looked back at the ground, his bangs falling across his eyes to frame his steadily flushing cheeks. "Promise you won't laugh?"

Marinette smiled. "Of course not."

Adrien peered up from the ground. "Honestly, I'm kind of a hopeless romantic." She bit back the urge to burst out 'same'. "So… I've always imagined getting a girlfriend would go a lot differently than this."

She bit her lower lip, as thoughts of a black cat on a Parisian rooftop affronted her mind. "You mean things like"—she practically squeaked her next words—"love poems and roses and candlelit dinners?"

His eyes shot wide. "I – Yes. Yes, exactly like that, actually." His brows gathered, light fading from his eyes—and her insides twisted at the sight.

Was he thinking back to that rooftop dinner date he’d put together?

Of all the times Ladybug had rejected him?

All the times she’d rejected him?

"Anyway," Adrien said, that light re-sparking in his eyes, though a little dimmer than before, "I guess the thing I want to ask you is, well…" He bit his bottom lip, something that shouldn't have been so darn cute given the circumstances. "If you were Kagami, what would you want me to do? Should I tell her what I've just told you? Or should I just… I don't know… go with the idea that we are official?"

Her heart hammered in her ribcage, so hard its every beat seemed to pop her eardrums. Maybe her luck really had run dry back on the Eiffel Tower. It had only been a matter of time, right?

"You can't tell her," she finally said, only to backtrack. "I mean, you should tell her. I – I mean…" She stopped to draw in a breath, taking a moment to reclaim her composure.

Right now, Adrien deserved the guidance of a friend—and he'd chosen her. Even if her heart was coming undone at the seams, she’d never let her kitty down—and she refused to start now.

"If I thought we were already together, I'd still love it if you asked me properly." Her words flowed with a surprising level of ease. "Maybe you could even ask her during that candlelit dinner. And even better, you'd get what you were hoping for from the beginning and you'd clear things up all at once."

Adrien had hung from her every word, his face steadily brightening with each syllable that left her lips. "You're right," he said, purpose filling his voice. "Thanks, Marinette! You're always the girl with a plan."

Marinette threaded her fingers in front of her, a shy smile lining her lips. "Yup, that's me." Her smile twitched. "Oh and I hope Kagami destroys—err, enjoys the cake!"

Adrien rubbed the nape of his neck. "Actually, it's for someone else." He gripped his chin, guilt straining his next words. "But now that you mention it, maybe I should've gotten a piece for her too."

"Oh. Well, umm—" She scoured her brain for a solution. "Why don't you just… uhh, give her mine?"

He shook his head. "No need, Marinette. It was meant for you." Smiling, he held up the paper bag around his arm. "I'll just give her mine. Problem solved."

Her eyes went round. "But you have to try Papa's pear and pineapple cake, Adrien. It's delicious!" Tenacity transformed her face. "Come with me." It was a statement, not a suggestion—and before he could protest, she'd grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the kitchen.

"Marinette, you don't need to—"

"Yes, I do." She plucked a small plate from a nearby cupboard and a knife from a drawer. "There is no way I'm letting you leave without your own slice of Papa's cheesecake."

Marinette sliced a sliver from her cake and shifted it to her plate. The larger piece, of course, stayed in the carton, while the plated piece was stowed in the fridge. She soon faced him, the carton gripped within two pale hands; it nearly slipped through her fingers when she saw his smile—so light, so familiar, so full of fondness. When being stubborn, Ladybug often found herself on the receiving end of it.

It was such a Chat Noir smile.

And in that moment, she realised it was such an Adrien smile too.

"Thank you, Marinette." That smile didn't once waver as he placed the carton in the paper bag, atop the two others. "You didn't have to trouble yourself like that."

"Hey, it was a piece of cake." Marinette immediately knew what she'd unleashed and quite frankly, she didn't care.

Awe filled his face. "Was that a pun I just heard?"

She held a hand to her lips, hiding the way they quirked up at the corners. "Mhm. And a pretty sweet one, if I do say so myself."

"Puns and baked goods. Isn't this just the icing on the cake?"

"I guess today you get to have your cake and eat it too."

Adrien laughed, loud and hearty. It was a laugh she rarely heard, and cliché as it may be, that sound was like an entire symphony to her ears. "Wow, Marinette," he said, a grin bright on his face. "I never realised you were so punny!"

She shrugged. "Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me." The phrase came innocently enough, but the moment it sunk in, a strangled croak crept up her throat. "That is, err… things like, what I ate for breakfast this morning or – um – what my favourite kind of potato is and – uh – my second favourite colour. Yeah, things like that. Y'know?"

A chuckle shook his shoulders. "Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me either,” he said, a spark in his eyes—it was snuffed within a second. "Err – By that I of course mean…. uh… things like my least favourite food or my… favourite flavour of macaron."

"Hey, isn't it pass—" Marinette slapped a hand to her lips, heat rising to her cheeks. "Uhh… Past the time you wanted to leave by?"

Recollection flared in his eyes. "Oh – Right! Thanks for reminding me." He glanced at the time on the nearby microwave and sucked air in through his teeth. "Okay, I definitely need to get going." He rushed from the kitchen to the entrance, his right hand gripping the shoulder strap of his bag as his left reached for the bronze doorknob.

Marinette beat him to it, pulling the door aside with a smile he returned without hesitation.

"By the way," he said, just as he stepped into the stairwell, "whenever you've got any puns in the oven, feel free to throw them my way."

"I'll keep you roasted."

He slipped her a side glance, his smile crossing into smirk territory. "Oh and don't think I didn't notice you gave me the bigger slice."

Her lips seemed to move of their own accord. "I'm sorry. Can Mr Teen Model not handle all the calories?"

For a moment, he seemed incapable of forming words, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. And then he simply beamed at her. "See you tomorrow, Marinette."

She nodded, her eyes gleaming. "Enjoy your cake!"

"I'm sure I'll enjoy every single calorie of it." And with another of his classic winks, Adrien left.

Only when Tikki spoke up, peeking out of her side bag, did Marinette realise he was long gone and she was still holding the front door wide open, a goofy smile across her lips.

"I thought you were planning to avoid Adrien."

Marinette could almost hear her kwami's unspoken 'not flirt with him'. She slapped the air, a pained laugh prying her lips apart. "Pffft. Ha! No. Don't be silly, Tikki. I was just—"

"Keeping his calorie intake in check?" Tikki said, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

"I – I didn't look like that!" Marinette shoved the door shut, a pout on her lips. "I – I was – He was—" Unleashing a groan, she slumped against the door and sunk to the ground, the wooden floorboards cold against her bare calves. "He was acting like Chat Noir and… I don't know… the Ladybug in me just… just took over."

"Uh huh," Tikki drawled, mirth thick in her voice. "So, you're still going to Alya's tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Marinette said, throwing her hands out for emphasis. "I already said yes to her days ago. And it's not like I expected Adrien's dad to say the same to him. He never lets him hang out with his friends!" She chewed at her bottom lip, thoughts of tomorrow dragging her down from her Adrien-induced stupor.

Tikki floated out of her side bag and hovered at eye level. "Well, you have a joint patrol tonight. At least you can get some more practice at acting normal around him." There was a glint in Tikki's eyes and a cheeky smirk on her lips. "Though by your flirting just now, I'd say you're already well on your way."

Groaning, Marinette hid her face behind a hand. "I'm pretty sure talking to Adrien like that is not normal."

"You're right." Tikki's smirk stretched as she zipped closer to her owner. "But talking to Chat Noir like that is."

"Tikki!" Marinette shrieked, leaping to her feet. "He has a girlfriend! Well… a not-girlfriend. Or a… might-as-well-be-girlfriend. I… You know what I mean. And besides, I'm kind of… I dunno… sort of seeing Luka?"

"I know, I know." Tikki giggled as she floated onto her chosen's shoulder. "I'm just teasing."

A small smile soon painted Marinette's lips as she tickled Tikki's belly. "What am I going to do with you?"

Tikki giggled in her ear, remaining on Marinette's shoulder as she scaled the stairs to her bedroom. Her latest encounter with Adrien raced through her mind, bringing with it a thought she'd previously dismissed. "My reaction last night as Ladybug must've really freaked him out if he's bringing cheesecake to patrol." The light of clarity brightened her eyes and she snapped her fingers triumphantly. "But that gives me an idea."