#ml Fic

[anna-scribbles]

aroace adrien fic chapter 2!!! and we all cheered

summary:

Kagami fixes her eyes intensely on his face, and Adrien smiles. He scoops peas onto his fork nonchalantly, trying to shake the cloud of guilt that always seems to follow him these days. He always feels see-through when Kagami looks at him like that. When she speaks, it’s matter-of-fact. “Something is bothering you.”

excerpt:

Kagami is a good girlfriend. A really, really good girlfriend.

She makes sure that they go on at least 2 dates per week, and schedules them far in advance. She texts him good morning and goodnight like clockwork. She’s even proactive about cute nicknames, sending him vetted lists of options which they can debate the merits of. If dating was a sport, Kagami would be a gold medalist.

And she kisses him. A lot.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she’ll tell him with a peck on the cheek, catching him on the steps before he goes into school. He’ll grin and she’ll tilt his chin closer, planting one right on his lips.

“Come here,” she’ll coax, swiping away their homework with one hand and tugging at his shirt collar with the other. He’ll look up at her through his lashes and part his mouth just so, letting her press their lips together again and again.

“You’re perfect,” she’ll whisper, pulling him close in the locker room after practice. She’ll run her hand through his sweaty hair and lift her face to his until all his senses go dark.

Kagami is great. Kagami is really great.

And Adrien… Adrien is…

He’s curled around a pillow on his bed for the fourth time this week, caught somewhere between nausea and dread. His homework is unfinished, piano pieces unrehearsed. A lock of hair is irritating his eye but he feels too detached from his body to do anything about it. He hates when he gets like this for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because it doesn’t make sense.

He’s been depressed before. He’s been dissociated before.

But this?

He thinks of Kagami’s lips, warm and sticky with lip gloss, moving against his mouth. He feels her mouth open, tilting to meet him at an angle, and her tongue—

Adrien’s whole body shudders involuntarily and he curls up tighter around the pillow, squeezing it for dear life. Awful. Awful. What’s wrong with him? It’s kissing his girlfriend, the most natural thing in the world. Why does it feel like—why does he feel like he’s dying?

When Adrien closes his eyes, he’s right back there again. Kagami’s firm hands on the back of his neck, holding onto him. Her spit warm in his mouth, the small noises in the back of her throat, the pit carved out like a chasm in his stomach—

“You look terrible.”

Plagg’s nasal voice jars him back to the present. When Adrien looks up, bright green eyes are squinting just centimeters from his face.

Plagg frowns. “Are you still sick? Wait, did you eat some of my moldy brie? You know I said not to touch it until May!”

Plagg zips away, into the cabinet under the trophy case. Adrien takes a shaky breath.

“I didn’t touch your cheese, Plagg.” He forces his fingers to unclench from the pillow and stashes the memory of Kagami’s lips under some rug in his brain. He’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Plagg phases back into view, breathing a sigh of relief. “Phew! That could’ve been disastrous!”

“Yeah.” Adrien sits up and clenches his fists hard, enough for his fingernails to dig into the skin of his palms. The pain wakes him up, brings him back. (It’s penance too, maybe. He needs to be better than this.)

“Maybe you really are sick, then.” Plagg flits around him, poking his nose into Adrien’s belly and armpit and hair and even trying to look in his ears. He pulls back and frowns, cocking his little head. “Geez, it’s been on and off like this for, like, a month. Shouldn’t you go to a doctor or something?”

Adrien adverts his eyes. “I don’t think a doctor would help.”

Not with… whatever this is.

“All I’m saying is, you look really bad. Like, really bad—”

“Thank you. Thanks.”

Adrien painstakingly swings his legs over the bed and puts his feet on the ground, manually shifting weight to each leg. Muscle by muscle, reminding his body how to stand. It’s easier once he’s up. Fog filters through his mind, and then he doesn’t think as much.

The sickness burns off in the shower, seared from his skin. Adrien emerges clean and good and normal and he puts on new clothes and blow-dries his hair. Ready for anything. Ready for—

Nathalie knocks twice on his bedroom door before opening it.

“Kagami is here,” she tells him. “Your dinner will be served shortly.”

read on ao3

[nobodyfamousposts]

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.

[sizzleissues]

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 <————-

[nemaliwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Additional Tags: Post-Reveal Pre-Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pining Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Crochet, Cameras, Identity Issues, Crushes Summary:

He’s never been on this side of the camera before, the one seeing instead of being seen. It’s like a whole new world from here; he can see things he’s never seen before, things he’s never known to look for before.

Is this how she always looks at him? What he’d wanted for so long, but been too blind to see?

--

Marinette teaches Adrien to crochet. He teaches her to model.

My @mlsecretsanta gift for @buggachat! I hope you enjoy, and happy holidays :)

all my love to @jubileen for betaing <3

[rosekasa]

what happens in london

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

ladynoir.

10 chapters; T; no archive warnings apply.

when a slapdash victory celebration between ladybug and chat noir ends up in a 3am makeout session, they both decide it'd be better to clear their heads a little before revealing their identities. hennessy does always make her act stupid.

though it's a little hard to clear your head when you're stuck in an airbnb in london with the rest of your superhero team.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

aged up characters; making out; post hawk-moth defeat; miraculous team; secret relationship; identity reveal; alcohol; twenty year olds being twenty year olds

[frostedpuffs]

Adrien sat beside her on the bed, enveloping her hand in his. Their wedding bands gently clinked together. “It feels weird to be back here,” he said. “Weird in a good way or a bad way?” “A good way,” he said, smoothing his thumbs over her knuckles. “It feels like being transported back in time.” Marinette hummed in agreement, lying back against the soft white sheets. “Yeah. It feels like only yesterday we were ‘just friends.” The bed bounced lightly as Adrien settled beside her. “We can still be that.” A snort rose from her nose as she giggled. “Oh, god. Let the joke die.” “Never,” he laughed. Climbing over her, he rested his arms on both sides of her head before leaning down to peck her lips. “You’re my platonic wife.” “I am not!” she squealed. His lips tickled when they brushed her neck, and she squirmed. His laughter reverberated across her throat. “You are.” “No!” she said. He poked her side, and she squirmed away, laughing as his fingers dug into her most ticklish spots. “No, no!” “Admit it,” he teased, tickling her waist. “You like me as a friend.” She wheezed, out of breath. “That’s it, I’m officially putting you in the friendzone.”

it's finally completed! thank you everyone for going on this journey with me 💖 (this is not an april fool's joke, i promise! it's real!)

[aidanchaser]

Regardless of Perfection: An Adrinette Fic, featuring Félix 4.5K Words; Rated G for General Audiences

Adrien is dumbfounded. His knee is glued to the floor and his hands poised in front of him, as still and unmoving as his heart, stopped in his chest and aching as it fails to function. He can feel the eyes of every patron in the restaurant, staring with the same shock and confusion he feels.

“No?” he manages to squeak out, not even believing the word as it leaves his lips.

But Marinette has aggressively slammed the velvet box closed. Her face is already pink, hastily turning red, and Adrien can see tears in her eyes as she shoves his hands away with so much aggression that she near topples him over.

“Don’t—” she manages to say, and, “You can’t—” but she can’t seem to find words anymore easily than he can. She stands up and runs from the restaurant, linen napkin falling to the floor.

Adrien is only vaguely aware of the waiter helping him stand, a murmured apology as he’s settled back into his seat. A bottle of wine is placed in front of him, “Condolences from the guests over there,” but Adrien doesn’t even see the gesture, doesn’t know who to thank for the wine he’s meant to drown his heartbreak in. The waiter clears Marinette’s plate and glass without a word.

Adrien had planned tonight perfectly—at least, he thought he had. Everything about today had gone so right, like Ladybug’s own Lucky Charm had made it happen. He and Marinette had seen a movie together that afternoon, had a lovely walk along the Seine, and then she’d gone home to put on a brand new dress for their dinner on the Eiffel Tower. Adrien Agreste, even famous as he was, had waited months for this reservation to come up. Even though he’d carried the ring on him for the last several weeks—just in case the moment felt right—he’d known that this was the plan. That tonight was going to be the night. It was truly perfect.

He’d carefully steered the conversation over dinner to their future together, to the plans they’d talked about over the years amidst dreamy sighs and giggles. She’d seemed excited—had he misread her entirely? He didn’t think so. He’d known Marinette for nearly a decade. Surely he knew the difference between excitement and panic and he was sure that she had been excited—nervous, maybe, because of course she must have guessed how special today was—but he hadn’t seen any panic in her, not until the moment he had opened the ring box.

Her face had dropped. True horror had filled her eyes. And she had said, “No.”

Actually, she had practically shrieked it as she shoved the ring box away.

Adrien still didn’t understand it. Marinette certainly wasn’t the sort of person to be upset about a diamond being too small or a ring being inexpensive. So the rejection had to be about him, and Adrien couldn’t fathom why, couldn’t identify what clue he had missed along the way.

He’d been nervous to propose, naturally, but he had never thought that Marinette would reject him, certainly not so dramatically. He didn’t think anyone had expected it. Even her parents and their friends were all waiting back at the bakery, ready to celebrate, convinced she would have said yes.

A new panic climbed Adrien’s throat as he imagined Marinette arriving back at her parents’ place, greeted with a congratulatory cake and champagne. He needs to call them, tell them the devastating news before Marinette reaches them.

But as his fingers alight on his phone, it begins to buzz. Adrien swallows and draws it out, unable to tamp down the desperate hope that it’s Marinette telling him she’s changed her mind—but instead it’s Nino.

Adrien answers and says nothing.

“Adrien, where are you?” Nino asks, voice thick with concern.

Adrien tips his head back against the chair and stares up at the ceiling. The warm yellow rings of lights glare down at him and he swallows down the mixture of shame and despair that begin to coil in his chest, familiar friends that have known him far longer than Nino has.

“Adrien?” Nino asks.

“I’m still here,” Adrien says, but with no more strength than he had managed to repeat Marinette’s rejection with.

“Where are you?” Nino asks again.

“I’m still at the restaurant,” Adrien clarifies. He doesn’t know where he’s going to go after this. Certainly not home. He considers the possibility of transforming into Astro Chat and disappearing into space.

“Listen, Marinette just called Alya, and Alya called me, and I really think you should—”

“It’s fine, Nino,” Adrien says.

“I know that’s not true. Do you want me to meet you somewhere?”

Adrien considers the prospect of company. He knows even if he does go home alone, Plagg will still be with him. He can’t truly be alone, unless he does decide to transform. Maybe he does need to spend some time on top of the Eiffel Tower, cloaked in Chat Noir’s magic and the silence of being so far above the world. Maybe he needs to spend a few days on top of the Eiffel Tower.

“I just want to be alone,” he says, fidgeting with the miraculous around his finger.

“If you need anything—”

But his phone buzzes against his ear, and Adrien loses the rest of Nino’s offer as he checks to see his cousin is calling him.

Adrien wonders how many phone calls he’s going to receive tonight. He wonders how many of them he’ll take and how many he’ll ignore.

He doesn’t think he should ignore this one.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says to Nino, unsure exactly when later will be, and switches to the incoming call.

“Félix,” Adrien manages dismally. He wonders how fast word is spreading amongst their friends. He wonders if the news has already gone viral through a restaurant patron’s video footage.

“Kagami says I can’t kill her,” is all Félix says for a greeting, “but I will if you give me the okay.”

Adrien isn’t in the mood for Félix’s sense of humor. “Félix, I don’t—”

“I’m not joking,” Félix says.

Adrien rubs his eyes and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m going to hang up,” he says, wholly uninterested in Félix’s brand of comfort.

But Félix ignores this threat, and Adrien makes no move to follow through it it.

“Is there a possibility that she didn’t mean it?” Félix asks, voice turning from cold to cautious.

But Adrien doesn’t know how he could have misunderstood a loud, desperate shriek of, “No!” that seems to grow more violent as he turns the memory over and over again.

“She shoved me away and stormed out. I don’t think she could have communicated her feelings any clearer than that.”

Félix is quiet for a moment, and Adrien can picture him evaluating the evidence and trying to draw a picture of the event.

“Where are you?” Félix asks.

Adrien doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t consider himself a liar or even duplicitous in any way. He’s always genuine with his feelings—except when he isn’t.

Anger and heartbreak are too much for him, and he buries them deep, terrified that he’ll use them as weapons against others. He’s glimpsed, as much as the rest of Paris has, how hurt can be weaponized. He knows, too, the way that grief and heartbreak can make someone undesirable. He grew up in a home that treated sadness like a sickness, like rot that needed to be carved out. The last thing Adrien wants is for his friends and loved ones to see him at a low like this.

“I’ll be home soon,” Adrien finally says, avoiding Félix’s question.

“I’ll meet you there,” Félix says.

“Please don’t,” he says.

“You don’t enjoy being alone.”

And how could Adrien not cry at that? He’s been in shock—the rejection hurts, but he hasn’t truly felt it yet—until Félix trods on the roots of Adrien’s aching heart. He doesn’t enjoy being alone, and he wasn’t supposed to ever be alone again. He was supposed to have Marinette with him forever, but now…

He tries desperately to bite down the tears, but they swell up regardless. “I don’t understand,” Adrien chokes out, and his tears drip down his cheeks, like water through a crack in a levy. “I don’t understand what went wrong or why—” But his words fail him as his throat is suddenly consumed with a gasping sob.

He doubles over, one hand still clinging to Félix on the other end of the line and the other tightening in his hair like he can tear it out and his heartache with it. He leans against the table, unable to hold up his own weight as the burden of Marinette’s rejection bears down on him and an empty, lonely future spirals out before him.

“Tell me where you are,” Félix says, voice strangely tender.

Adrien screws his eyes shut, like he might be able to seal up his mess of tears or keep out Félix’s uncharacteristic kindness.

He knows the other restaurant patrons have to be watching, and all Adrien can think is how nice it would be to disappear. He thinks of how Marinette managed to flee the restaurant in her panic, and he wishes his legs would work and carry him out, too. He thinks if he hangs up the phone, he’ll be able to gather himself together just long enough to get out of here and find a place to become Chat Noir.

“Ah,” Félix says, “Nino just texted back. I’ll be right there.”

And Adrien can’t even protest, can’t warn him not to. Adrien certainly doesn’t want Félix to see him like this, doesn’t want anyone he loves to glimpse how utterly broken and devastated he is, but the words stick in his throat, drowned by the sobs he can’t fight down.

Adrien drops his phone onto the table, aware the call has gone dead and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an effort to stem his tears. He wonders how long he has until Félix arrives. Perhaps he can leave before his cousin gets here—

But there’s a gasp from the guests of the restaurant, a sudden rise of tension and fear that swells around him. Adrien’s skin prickles, familiar with the way a crowd’s mood changes before an akuma attack, but when he opens his eyes he sees no monster nor black butterfly searching for a victim. Instead, it is his cousin, dressed in the purple and blue hooded uniform of Argos.

Adrien should have guessed that Félix would manage to make a bigger scene than Marinette had.

As he reaches the table, his hand goes for Adrien’s shoulder, but Adrien shrugs him off.

“Please don’t,” he begs, unsure how he can bear Félix’s offer of comfort—unsure how Félix can bear his misery. Already, he can feel another swell of tears burgeoning. He curls into himself, burying his head in his hands, hiding what he can of his heartbreak.

Argos drops into the chair that Marinette had sat in not thirty minutes ago, and as he does, drops his transformation.

“I’ll stay until you’re ready to leave,” Félix says, voice still tinged with tenderness, and it only makes Adrien’s chest ache more.

Adrien is not used to people standing with him when he makes a mistake. He’s used to sharp critique and deathly silent meals. Marinette and Nino alike have been so gentle in their attempts to draw him out, to allow him to misstep without flinching, but this particular misstep feels so monumental. He doesn’t know how he could have read Marinette so wrong; he doesn’t know how anyone would want to sit with him through this.

Félix, at least, knows what it’s like to bury heartbreak and mistakes well out of sight and well out of reach. Félix knows the way perfection is not an achievement but an expectation, and he understands that something as ugly as grief is not fit for public consumption nor private indulgence.

Adrien draws in two shaky breaths, but they’re whole and uninterrupted by wild sobs. He thinks he has enough composure to speak again and asks, “Do you know where I went wrong?” He doesn’t care for how raw and ragged his voice sounds, and he reaches for his glass of water.

Félix picks up the wine that Adrien has left untouched and sniffs the uncorked bottle curious. He pours a little, swirls and sips it, then wrinkles his nose, and checks the bottle. His upper lip curls in disgust and finally, he turns his eyes back to Adrien. “Have you considered that you may have made no mistakes at all?”

Adrien shakes his head. “No—I must have done something—or said something—” he feels the tears threaten to crawl out of his chest again, and he presses his thumb and forefinger against his eyes to hold them back. “Alya might know. I can text her.” But when he reaches for his phone, he finds that Félix has already snatched it out of reach.

“Adrien,” Félix murmurs, “you cannot charm the world to your will by following a dance step diagram. There is no pattern to unlock, no measure of perfection that will make everything turn out right.”

Adrien grits his teeth, certain that what Félix says is true, but unable to accept it. If he could just be better, then things wouldn’t have turned out this way.

“I’m sure you did everything right,” Félix continues. “The date, the dinner, the tie, the ring…” Félix’s hand closes over the blue velvet box. “But sometimes, Adrien, things simply—” He stops as he flicks the box open.

Adrien’s heart sinks. The ring was the problem after all, wasn’t it? He should have bought something expensive, something that glittered. He had just thought that Marinette would have preferred something sentimental, so he had chosen to propose with his mother’s wedding band. Apparently it had ben the wrong choice.

Félix snaps the box closed and slides it back to Adrien. “I’m going to find Ladybug,” he says, and Adrien’s heart pounds with new concern.

“Ladybug?” he asks weakly.

Félix gets to his feet, but he hesitates as he eyes Adrien and his disheveled hair and tear-stained cheeks. Something in his tight shoulders sags ever so slightly.

“No, not Ladybug,” he says. “Adrien, I’m going to take you to Marinette.”

“Félix, I can’t—”

“I don’t think she meant to turn you down.”

Though Adrien is reluctant to believe Félix, his heart pounds with hope. “What’s wrong with proposing with my mother’s ring? I thought she’d think it was romantic.”

Félix scrubs a hand over his face. “Well, she didn’t.” His voice is once again flat and cold, void of the care he’d been displaying moments ago. His words, at least, show an awareness of feeling. “I’m going to take you to Marinette, and the three of us are going to have a very difficult conversation, and it is going to hurt, but it will be all right. Can you trust me on that?”

Adrien isn’t sure how he can, but Félix doesn’t make it sound like he has any choice in the matter. “How do you know it will be okay?”

Félix draws his mouth into a tight line. When he does speak again, it’s painstaking and slow, like poison being drawn from a wound. “Because you have people who will love you regardless.”

There is not much more room for discussion. Félix pauses only to call Alya—on Adrien’s phone, certain it’s the only way she’ll answer—and merely says, “Where’s Marinette?” before engaging in tense negotiations with Alya for Marinette’s whereabouts. He wins the interrogation, or at least Adrien thinks he must have, because as soon as he ends the call, he transforms back into Argos and scoops Adrien up in his arms.

Adrien decides that he prefers when Ladybug carries him, but he doesn’t have much choice in the matter, unless he were to suddenly tell his cousin the truth about the ring he wears on his middle finger. But Félix is clearly in a hurry to reach Marinette, and is uninterested in mortal means of travel. Leaping across rooftops with the power of the Peacock Miraculous is the best the two of them can manage.

He lands on Marinette’s rooftop, and Adrien stumbles out of his cousin’s arms, unsure he has ever dropped onto this rooftop as himself.

He does his best to scrub his cheeks free of any tearstains. His hair, he’s sure, is unsalvageable after their flight across the rooftops, and he does not even want to know the state of his suit.

Argos lifts the trap door without knocking and drops down inside. Adrien, suddenly aware that he has this brief moment alone, considers the risk of simply leaving.

But before he can quite manage a whispered, “Plagg, claws out,” Alya’s head appears from below. She gives him a sad smile and climbs out to meet him.

Adrien backs into the balcony railing, but Alya approaches anyway. She puts a tender hand on his shoulder and ignores the way he flinches. Even as he tries to shrug her off, she squeezes tighter.

“I’m really sorry,” she says.

Adrien refuses to meet her eyes. He can’t let her see the tears that are springing up all of a sudden. He doesn’t know why his cousin has insisted on this.

“For what it’s worth,” Alya says, “I don’t think she meant to turn you down. She’s… she’s really embarrassed, but she won’t say anything more to me than just that she panicked.”

Adrien doesn’t think that quite matches with his memory of the event, but his heart is racing again, brought back to life by the hope Alya is offering him.

“You should go talk to her. Félix won’t let me in there for whatever it is he wants to say, and I don’t know that I trust the two of them alone together for very long.”

Adrien isn’t entirely sure if that Alya’s fears are about mistrusting Félix—distantly, he remembers Félix’s offer of murder—or if they’re about mistrusting Marinette and her own scheming.

“I’ll go down there,” Adrien concedes, “but I’m not sure I’ll have much more to say.”

“Then just listen. And, hey, you know that no matter what happens, you and I are still friends, right?”

His chest swells and Adrien thinks this alone might break him. He isn’t sure how to accept this offer of kindness, of unconditional trust.

“Okay,” he manages, voice strangled with a whirl of emotions he can’t begin to name.

Adrien climbs down the ladder into Marinette’s bedroom and finds that Félix is once again without his magical costume. He has settled into Marinette’s desk chair as easily as if it was his own, while Marinette sits on the edge of her bed, head between her knees and hands locked behind her neck as if she is preparing for an earthquake or a tornado. Adrien considers mirroring her posture, but chooses not to, only because he is unsure where he would sit. So he stands, leaning against her windowsill, unsure how to begin this conversation.

“If you don’t tell him, Marinette,” Félix says, “then I will.”

Marinette’s whine is muffled by her knees and whatever she murmurs into her leg is fully unintelligible.

Félix sighs in exasperation. He takes his own ring—his father’s ring—between his thumb and finger and yanks it off. He turns it over between his fingers. “Adrien, have you ever wondered how you and I are so terribly alike in appearance even though we are only cousins?”

“Our mothers are twins,” Adrien says, almost automatically. He distantly remembers asking his mother about it once, and she’d said the same. She had said to never bring it up again, so he had done as she asked and never questioned her answer. Even now, it seems impossible to think otherwise.

“My mother can’t have children,” Félix says, and there is nothing in his tone nor expression that indicates how absurd the statement is.

Adrien glances to Marinette for some sort of clue or help, but she is still in a panic. His heart aches to see her like this, and all he wants is to sit down next to her and hold her. But he remembers how she pushed him away just an hour ago, and he remains by the window.

“Félix, that doesn’t make sense.”

“My mother can’t have children and neither could her twin sister.”

Adrien does not have the patience for this conversation. He rubs his eyes, aching and tired from the tears they have spilled. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“My father created me, and your mother created you, using the Peacock Miraculous.”

Marinette moans like a seasick sailor whose ship has made a sudden lurch beneath her feet. Adrien can only stare at Félix, stunned.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” Félix says, “and because I told Marinette.”

Adrien’s gut twists. He isn’t sure which part is harder to swallow: the idea that he’s a Sentimonster or the idea that Marinette rejected him because of it. His entire reality shifts before him, and he clings to the window’s ledge to make sure he stays on his feet.

“But you… you can’t be serious.” But even as Adrien says it, he can’t imagine Félix would be anything less than serious. His next concern, then, is that Félix has simply been horribly misinformed.

He looks to Marinette again, and he knows by the white in her knuckles and the half-formed sob that bursts out of her chest that she believes it.

“My father used this ring as the object to bind me to life,” Félix says. “Your mother chose hers and your fathers’ wedding rings.”

Adrien shakes his head, still unable to see truth in Félix’s words, but finally—finally—Marinette says something intelligible.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and hiccups on another sob. She lifts her head and looks at Adrien. Her face is flushed, cheeks tear-streaked and eyes puffy, red, and streaked with mascara. Though she’s still wearing the dress she had put on for their formal dinner date, the satin is wrinkled like she’s the one who took a journey across Paris’ rooftops in a superhero’s arms. “I didn’t mean it, Adrien, I swear.”

Adrien pulls the velvet box out from his jacket and looks at the ring inside. He still can’t wrap his head around the idea that this ring and his father’s ring, still attached to the necklace fastened beneath his shirt, are tethers that hold him to this world. He still can’t believe that he isn’t human. He feels human. He imagines that this night wouldn’t hurt so much if he were otherwise.

But more urgent than this absurdity that Félix has laid at his feet is Marinette’s apology. He stumbles over to Marinette and collapses onto the bed beside her. “Which part didn’t you mean?” he whispers.

Marinette hiccups again and tries to rub her eyes dry, but she only succeeds in smearing her mascara. The black streak bleeds into her hairline and her tears continue to fall regardless.

“The part where I pushed you,” she says, and chokes on another sob. “The part where I said no.”

Adrien plucks the ring out from the velvet box. “Marinette—”

“No!” she yelps again, and closes her hands over his. She falls off the bed, knees hitting the hardwood floor with a thud and she winces, but does not lose her grip on Adrien’s hand. He’s afraid she’s going to break his fingers

“Adrien, don’t,” she says. “I can’t take this.”

“But Marinette—”

“Please,” she sobs. She buries her face into his knees, tears and makeup soaking into his suit. Without looking up at him, she pries the ring out of his hand and slides it onto his own finger. “Adrien, I love you,” she chokes on another gasping sob, “and I cannot love you and wear this ring.”

Something new inside Adrien breaks, something he can’t name. He stares down at the top of Marinette’s head, and her hands holding onto his like he’s the only tether she has to this world. New tears fall from his cheeks, unattached to sobs. They aren’t sad tears, not at all.

Human or not, Marinette loves him. He’s not sure anything else matters.

He sinks to the floor beside Marinette, takes her face in his hands, and kisses her.

She doesn’t push him away. She doesn’t shriek and reject him. It’s the kiss he had expected, long and deep and perhaps a bit more wet than he had been prepared for. Even her hiccups, he thinks, ought to have been expected.

The chair beneath Félix creaks as he stands, and he coughs.

Marinette and Adrien politely pause their kiss, but they keep their hands intertwined and their foreheads pressed together.

“I’ll let Alya know we’re finished, then.”

Marinette tries again to wipe her eyes dry. “I’ll go—” She pauses for a sniff and a hiccup. “I’ll go tell my parents the good news.”

Adrien squeezes her hand. “Wait, one more thing.” He turns to his cousin, already halfway up the ladder steps. He supposes that Félix has given a lot of emotion today, and he shouldn’t be surprised his cousin is trying to slip away. “Why did you tell Marinette about the rings before you told me.”

Marinette sucks in a sharp, sudden breath of air and her hiccups vanish. Félix freezes on the ladder, but it’s brief. He shrugs and says, “I’ll let Marinette tell you that one.” And he leaves.

Adrien looks at Marinette, watches her worry her bottom lip and flick her eyes between her sewing machine, the box that he knows her diary is hidden in, and the dollhouse perched on her desk.

“Marinette?” he asks.

“Well—I—I mean—I can’t—I mean you can’t—” Marinette fumbles for the right words, but Adrien is used to this. He waits patiently.

“I’m Buglady,” she finally spits out, “I mean Luggybady. I mean—”

Adrien’s eyebrows lift. “You’re Ladybug?”

She swallows and nods.

He glances at the plain black earrings fastened in her ears. He thinks about the last several years of interrupted dates and how he hadn’t even noticed her terrible excuses for lateness because he was too busy thinking about his own.

Adrien works his ring off of his finger. He never removes it, and it requires a bit of doing, but once its off, he slides it onto Marinette’s finger.

“Adrien, I said I can’t—”

He leans in close, whispers, “It’s just my miraculous,” and kisses her cheek.

She swallows and looks down at the band, clearly thicker than the wedding band and with an unadorned place for a stone setting—a space perfectly sized for a glowing pawprint—and begins to hyperventilate all over again.

“But you can’t—I can’t—but Adrien—Chat—”

Adrien kisses her, and she sinks into it, panicked words and breath forgotten. There’s nothing more to be said between them.

Nothing about today went perfectly; nothing about this kiss is picturesque or even truly romantic. But Adrien wouldn’t trade today and all of its mess for anything in the world. He loves his lady, panic and stuttering and all, and he’s willing to admit that maybe it’s okay if she loves his mistakes and his secrets too.

[robylovi]

Bit I audibly SCREAMED at from chapter 8 of Two Virgin Losers by @literaphobe (GO READ IT, IT’S RLLY FUN)

+ the nerds in their jammies

[mostmagical]

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.

[tumble-witch]

TW light suggestion of body horror. No descriptions though!

Creatomachia

Bunnix shows up in Marinette's bedroom when it's already dark outside.

Marinette knows what the older heroine is about to ask the second she hears the burrow open. When Bunnix greets her, Marinette is hyperventilating. Instead of exchanging pleasantries, she asks:

- Is it... him again?

Bunnix has a grim expression on her face, yet shakes her head. Marinette exhales. She has another question.

- Is it something I did?

- No. I'm sorry I'm asking this from you again. I'm sorry there will be no answers yet.

- It's okay. I am ready.

At first Ladybug thinks she is on another planet. Another dimension, even. There are cloud fractals in the sky. There is a street light growing out of another one, growing out of another one, growing out of another one... Trees are huge and have so many leaves they are almost a solid green mass. Some buildings are so tall they go way past the clouds in a curvy line. It reminds her of the Jack and the Beanstalk fairytale her mom used to read her before bed.

The roads branch out like blood vessels, getting smaller with each separation, ending in dead ends near the buildings or growing vertically on top of the walls.

The whole city almost looks like it could move at any second. It almost looks alive.

As Ladybug progresses through the streets (if she can even call them that), she finally realizes where the people are.

At least, what's left of them.

Infinite growth apparently works on humans, too. She never thought she'd be so thankful to see somebody not move.

The silence makes her ears ring. Everything is quiet, except for some mechanical sounds the structures make, not really meant to support their own weight in this new form.

Then, she hears laughter.

A girl with hair so long she's not sure where it ends is frantically pacing around the roof, her body movements jittery and odd. As the camera of the heroine's yo-yo focuses on the akuma, helping seek out where the cursed butterfly is hiding, Ladybug realizes the dress this girl is wearing is not grey.

It's is covered in trillions of colourful tiny dots of different shapes and sizes. They seem jittery too, as if trying to move, but some force is making them stay together. This feels like standing up after lying down for too long. Looking at the pattern for too long makes her head hurt

Ladybug continues hiding. She takes her time looking for clues. At this point she's not really sure if the girl is actually laughing or this is a weird hysterical cry. Sometimes the akuma starts muttering under her nose, too quiet to make out most of the words. Ladybug is pretty sure she heard the girl say "I can fix this" a few times though. She shifts to hear the words better.

The akuma turns around

This is the hardest she's ever fought. Chat Blanc feels like child's play now.

While the villain almost looks out of breath, long hair going everywhere, Ladybug is still barely able to keep up.

The air is too dense with oxygen.

The girl has a yo-yo as a weapon, in a cruel twist of irony. And she's damn good with it. Yet, she clearly hesitates in using the thing, saving it as a last resort to escape.

Ladybug tries to reason with the akumatized victim.

- Wait! Please, let me help you!

- You don't understand, - the girl looks around frantically, - I have to fix this! I need to fix this!

Villain's grey yo-yo starts to glow white and she throws it at a fire hydrant, making it grow another one on top.

The akuma was inside the earring. Ladybug was hit by the yo-yo. She doesn't have the time to think as she casts Miraculous cure, just before her brain registered the pain fully.

She'll remember the way it looked when she closes her eyes though.

The streets go back to normal. Her body is normal. Ladybug turns around and meets the eyes of

herself

Marinette sits on the ground, horrified. But before Ladybug can talk to her Bunnix appears and she has to go.

Bunnix doesn't say anything as they walk through the burrow, but she's pretty sure the older heroine is holding her shoulder softer than ever before.

They didn't change anything. They didn't fix anything after they came back, no scoldings, no erasing her name from anywhere, nothing. Marinette is growing more paranoid at every turn, expecting to get akumatized. Her conflict avoidance is at all times high. She's withdrawing from her friends.

Nobody is near when Hawkmoth himself shows up in the middle of the night and she has to transform. He senses her distress immediately.

This is just too easy.

The butterfly lands in her earring just as she started to call for a last effort Lucky Charm.

"Creatomachia, this is Hawkmoth. You are overwhelmed with every problem creating a million smaller ones. Things seem to stack on top of each other and just never end. I'll give you the power to fix everything. In return, you will give me your and Chat Noir's miraculous."

For a split second, everything is white.

[ebiartics]

Art for my fanfic Set To Love which is now available on Ao3 along with Fanfiction.net and Wattpad !!!

New chapter coming soon :)

[anna-scribbles]

chapter cards for thirteen: november - april

read on ao3

[nobodyfamousposts]

More Norm Antics

Just a reminder that I am horrible and this is pretty much crack and to not be taken seriously.

“I wish Marinette was evil!”

“Uh…you suuuure you wanna wish for that?”

“YES!”

“It is the first year of Her Most Imperial, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, in her successful takeover of the world—with fashion!”

Nadja Chamack sounded strangely unconcerned with the news she was announcing, smiling cheerfully from the TV acting as the sole source of light and sound in Lila’s underground bunker.

Lila didn’t care about her. She was more concerned with the images behind the anchorwoman, which were apparently of Marinette’s coronation as Empress of the World and her giving a speech to the crowd.

And by “concerned”, what was really meant was “completely enraged”.

“WHAT THE HELL, NORM?!”

“Whaaaaaaat?” The genie whined. “She’s evil, isn’t she?”

“I didn’t mean for her to be a ‘Villain With Good Publicity’!” Lila shouted.

“You might want to keep it down. Don’t want people outside the bunker to hear you, after all. Calm your tush and all that.”

“I AM CALM! What I want are ANSWERS!”

He sighed, annoyed. “The wish was for her to be evil, and you can’t get more evil than politics.”

“So why is SHE queen of the world while I’M hiding in a bunker?” She demanded.

He stared back blankly.

“Uh…you want a list?”

Seeing she was about to blow her top and likely get them both caught by her screaming, Norm sighed again before proofing a script into hand, then putting on glasses and reading from the script.

“Apparently since she’s always been evil, she took over her lycée class and soon enough the school. Chloe Bourgeois has been a non-issue since her dad lost his reelection campaign and was quickly revealed for fraud and embezzlement, so the former ’Princess’ became a ‘Pauper’. Then Marinette turned Paris into the central fashion capital of the world—or at least more than it already apparently was in this universe. And once her parents sent her off to Dictator School, she graduated early and took over the world to enforce universal fashion sense with an iron fist.”

Lila gaped.

“You can’t be serious!”

Dictator School? Since when was there even a thing? Why hadn’t she known about it sooner?

“As her first decree,” Nadja continued from the television, regaining their attention. “Hawk Moth and all his allies shall be taken into custody and executed for their crimes.”

Both girl and genie stared at the screen.

“This can’t be happening!” Lila exclaimed. “There’s no way they can know I was involved!”

But sure enough, Lila’s photograph and name appeared on the screen.

“If you or anyone you know has any information on the criminal, please contact local law enforcement.” Nadja continued darkly.

Norm blinked.

“You sided with that fruitcake?”

This was bad! This was horrible! The absolute worst!

Lila took a deep breath to calm herself.

“No! No wait! It’s okay! This is fine!” Lila insisted, starting to smirk. “Ladybug’s a goody goody! There’s no way she would just sit by and let Marinette take over the world. No doubt Ladybug will do her ‘hero’ thing and stop Marinette. And since this is my wish, she won’t even know that this isn’t the real Marinette so she’ll be the one in trouble. Or better yet, they’ll destroy each other. Either way, the problem will be solved, so I still win!”

“Next segment will show Her Most Imperial coronate the Miraculous Protectors. People the Imperial has chosen to defend her empire and the world.”

Miraculous? No. No way. There was no way Marinette would have the Miraculous!

But sure enough, an image on the screen appeared of several of the classmates being bequeathed with titles and…were those really the Miraculous?

“How did she get those?!” Lila demanded.

Had she defeated Ladybug?

But then that meant she was right and Ladybug was probably dead or imprisoned so yay there, but it also meant now Marinette had all of the Miraculous and all the power and there would be no one to protect Lila from her!

No, no wait. There was Ladybug on screen. Appearing quite quite well and vexingly alive.

This was the absolute worst! Marinette had everything! The Miraculous! The entire WORLD in her hands! Even Adrien, as he has been presented on screen earlier at Marinette’s side as an official Consort of all things! Appearing quite happily so, for someone being bound to a tyrant.

And most infuriatingly, she couldn’t even have the small satisfaction of Ladybug’s defeat to make this situation at least a little better, as rather than cowering in defeat, it seemed that Ladybug had joined the regime as she stood at the head of the group, giving a speech to the masses.

“—I will do my utmost to find and eliminate the last of the criminals that sought to do harm to the city of Paris and the world!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and a few calls to “burn the witch!”

Lila gaped at the screen

“Sooo….no Ladybug fix then?” Norm asked.

She stared, unmoving.

“Also…not sure how to tell you this, but your bunker isn’t well stocked and you’re out of hot water for showers.” Norm added, scrubbing his back with a bath brush.

Lila twitched.

________________

“Okay, this time it’s bound to work!”

“Uh. Maybe you should stop making wishes about the pig-tailed girl?”

“No! I just need her to do something evil but not world-dominatingly evil for others to see and despise her for! So just take away any restraint and make her horrible!”

“Okay.”

Lila found herself cowering in a bathroom.

Marinette’s voice sweetly came from the other side of the locked door.

“Open the door, Lila~!”

“N-no!”

“YOU LOCKING DOORS, LILA?!”

An axe started slamming into the door.

“YOU LOCKING DOORS?!”

Lila screamed.

She had thought that wishing Marinette to be horrible would cause her to act out more blatantly against Lila and lead everyone to turn against her. She hadn’t thought that it would make her go full blown murder!

It was like something out of some old horror movie.

As if to further illustrate that point, Norm poofed in. Holding a carton of movie theater popcorn and wearing 3-D glasses.

“Wow, the 3-D effect really makes it look real.”

“That’s because it IS real!” Lila hissed at him, barely able to be heard over the sound of the axe being slammed into the door. “Now undo it!”

“You sure? I mean, at least this way everyone will know she’s evil. Once they find your body, of course.”

IF they found her body went unsaid.

“There’s no point in everyone knowing she’s horrible if I’m dead!” She snapped. “UNDO IT!”

Norm shrugged and snapped his fingers.

[sizzleissues]

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.

[peachcitt]

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

[rosekasa]

the ladybug wingwoman experience™

part 2 of the adrien agreste desk partner experience!!

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

adrichat/marinette

4 chapters; G; no archive warnings apply.

shortly after marinette learns his secret identity, chat noir can't help but notice ladybug is in a better mood, too.

so when he learns something new about his feelings for his Very Good Friend/Desk Partner, of course he's going to ask her to help.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

adrien agreste has a crush on marinette dupain cheng; fluff; friends to lovers; identity shenanigans; identity reveal