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Family Channel announced new airing dates (can be delayed)
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Y you using fanart?
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Miraculous Ladybug Fanfic: Unpredictable Ch3
Chapter 1, Chapter 2
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Posted on: AO3, FFN
This fic, as a whole, includes AU Yeah August’s Prompt Soulmate (Day 1), Reincarnation (14), Reverse Crush (19; sorta. Adrien likes Marinette first.) and Miraculous Fluff Month’s Prompt First Kiss (11), Friends to Lovers (9), Unexpected Reveal (28; it’s not identity though, because there are no miraculouses in this fic), and Soulmates (31)
Knowing that her visions were actually fact was a surreal realization for Marinette.
Because then that meant that she was somehow… accessing someone’s body and/or memories from the past and/or future? With thoughts, sensations and everything else?
How was that possible ?
She knew that there was no law in physics that could describe her visions. Physics was one of her worst subjects, yes, but even she knew that much. Weird vision/dream-like phenomena only happened to her, as far as she knew.
However, it was something deeply important and personal to her.
And ever since she had had that vision at the burger joint, she could no longer ignore or set them to the back of her mind.
Now, they weren’t just pesky annoyances in her life. Rather, her visions were some mysterious thing that told her of some things. She didn’t know what that thing was, or what they wanted to tell her, rather than maybe that her fate was chosen for her.
But then, why bother telling her about it? If her fate was chosen and she had no say in what happened regardless of whether or not she had the knowledge, why would they try to make her suffer with the understanding?
It seemed like all a big waste of an effort to Marinette, and although she probably could not fathom what the universe was thinking as it cranked its gears everyday, she definitely did not understand this.
Was it wrong of her to want to understand what was happening to her?
Maybe she shouldn’t be accepting it as fact that she had these weird visions in her life that she didn’t even know where she got them from. Maybe she shouldn’t be regarding it as the quality of herself that was separating her out from the crowd and making herself different, but rather as a foreign invader. Something that wasn’t part of her, but one day came into her body and her being and made itself at home.
Yeah, that sounded a lot better.
But if that was true, then could she get rid of the foreign invader?
Should she want to?
Her visions always caused her a great heap of trouble in her life, and Marinette had been in -- and still was -- in great pain because of them. But when you have lived your entire life blind, you don’t know what sight is. And so, when the opportunity comes and you can finally see the world... well, it was strange. And now that she was imagining what life she would have without the visions, well, life without her visions seemed… odd .
Would she want it?
What about the other sharpened senses that she would lose? Would she think that the gained sight would be worth it, the gained normality?
Did she want it?
(No, she decided. She didn’t. But she didn’t want to admit it out loud.)
That didn’t even begin to cover why she had these visions in the first place.
(Yes, she did want to get back at whatever force of nature her visions, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t want to know what in the world they wanted to do with her in the first place.)
What was its purpose in her life? To just make her different?
Marinette doubted that. There were many ways one could be different. She would probably have felt equally as different under different circumstances.
So why this specific flavor of differentness?
What could the universe possibly want with her ?
She was a simple girl with a simple life. She lived simply by modest means, and while she may have had big dreams, she was going to get there the simplest way she knew how.
If the universe had planned her , out of all the people, to do something extraordinary, she had no idea why they had picked her.
Take out the supernatural visions, and she was one of the simplest girls you could see walking down the streets.
She thought about what she might have been like had she not had visions in her life, but then she stopped. The idea itself was so far-fetched and big to her that she couldn’t fathom a life without her visions.
Maybe she could fathom a future without her visions, yes. She would easily blend into the crowd, into the background, without anything impeding her from doing so. She might feel like she belonged somewhere for the first time in her life.
But a past where there were no visions?
She came up blank every single time.
Because would she still be a fashion designer, then? Would she be competing as a gymnast professionally now?
What about her inner world? How many puzzle pieces would look different or be missing?
What kind of a person would no-vision Marinette be like?
It also didn’t help that her visions had come back with a vengeance this week. In fact, Marinette couldn’t remember a day when she didn’t have visions anymore. A day when there wasn’t anything supernatural happening, that wasn’t controlled by her own desires and doing.
But she had never expected it to go on and have a rampage.
She was having three to four visions per day , and these times were not at all predictable to her chagrin.
It was a wild animal, her visions, one that drove her insane and wouldn’t leave her alone unless it was tame. But she couldn’t have it tamed, and so she had given up trying to, letting it be just like a wasp; if she didn’t touch it, then it didn’t sting her. (Of course, the simile didn’t completely apply here; it was stinging her regardless of what she did. But she found that it stung less painfully the less she tried to force control onto her visions.)
And with the way that they were happening, Marinette couldn’t help but think that the visions were having fun messing with her head. Maybe even betting on the day that she was finally going to go insane, if there was some force (she was somewhat sure that there was, because what kind of a coincidence was that thing at the burger joint? That had been done to spite her.) that was controlling the visions.
Ha! The joke was on them. She already had.
But whether or not they knew, the universe didn’t seem to give up on trying to make her suffer.
In fact, it was as if they loved kicking her when she was down.
As much as Adrien’s calls and Alya’s excursions with Marinette healed her, the fact was that Marinette’s visions wouldn’t go away or go in the way she favored.
Maybe the universe had heard her declaration of war on the visions, she thought on a Thursday, and it was now fighting back.
Whatever it was, she didn’t appreciate it.
Read more on: AO3, FFN
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Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction: I Need To See Your Face
Summary: Marinette's career in fashion is skyrocketing, but her husband, Adrien, can't help but wish it wasn't.
Also Posted On: AO3 FFN
This one-shot was inspired by tiger7210's fic, "Engaged". It is from Adrien's POV.
I wake up cold on the left side of the bed.
What little heat I possessed from yesterday saps away from me, the side of the bed that is now empty. The empty side -- the right side -- calls out to me, devouring and hungry and empty. It is a black hole that keeps gnawing and eating away at the carefully guarded warmth in my heart, ever so hungry yet never caring. The sheets are untidy and wrinkled and frantic, just like the person who possessed this side of the bed yesterday.
I try to smile; I really do. I try to imagine Marinette scrambling for her purse and office attire, her rummaging and ransacking the drawers in the process. And as I turn my head towards the right side of the room, I see the mess that she has created on the floor, clothes and scarves lying everywhere, that proves my predictions as true. That image should bring up all the fond memories of the times she was late for school, those times her cheeks were furiously red and breaths haggard from all the running she must have done to get there on time (for her), and make me smile.
But I don’t.
Instead I only focus on how cold my side of the bed is and what remaining warmth from her side of the bed evaporates in front of me while I’m unable to stop it. How the bed’s too big for only plain old me, but also seemingly unable to house two people at the same time.
It hadn’t always been like this.
Marinette and I had been close as close could be.
How could we not be? We were Ladybug and Chat Noir, partners in every sense of the word. We were -- are -- yang and yin, light and darkness, two halves of the same whole. Inseparable. We’ve been together since we have revealed our identities to each other, when we started our first year in high school. We’ve had each other’s back for everything, from superheroing to me supporting her fashion career and startup company while she supported me when stood up to my father and refused to model any longer. She treats my personal victories as hers, and I do the same for hers.
But… I can’t help but feel this gnawing pain in my heart.
And the devil on my shoulders saying that I don’t want her to be successful. Not anymore.
I immediately push that thought down.
I should be happy, I know. Coccinelle has become the most successful newcomer in the fashion industry and it’s taken Paris up by a storm. It’s even becoming the latest thing in Asia and the Americas, and I can’t help it but be proud of her when tourists and locals alike wear my wife’s design. I’m extremely happy for her that her company is expanding overseas, to the Americas and Asias, and we fantasize over a future where Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Coccinelle can become household names like Gabriel Agreste and Gabriel .
I love seeing how her face lights up when someone on the street asks for her signature.
Her signature, with its curly M and hearted i, hasn’t changed at all; she hasn’t changed at all. I haven’t changed at all.
But somehow, I can’t help but feel that we’re growing farther apart.
She’s always up before I ever am, running frantically and muttering with a panicked tone in her voice about how she’s late to work. And when I rub my eyes and sit up on the bed, trying to placate her by saying that she’s the boss and doesn’t need to be on time, please come back to bed, Mari,she always shakes her head no and says that duty calls.
I let out a wry chuckle at that.
She’s always been about duty, both as Marinette and as Ladybug. She’s the responsible one of the two of us, always the one who is more serious and willing to take charge. It’s not like I don’t like taking charge or that I’m not good at taking charge; I actually consider myself to be a decent leader. But of the two of us, she’s definitely the one who prefers doing it and ends up doing it more. She takes on others’ burdens so willingly and so well, wanting to relieve others of their stress, that others feel completely at ease with her and entrust her with their most vulnerable self and their very own lives.
It’s one of the things that I love about her.
It’s the very thing that drew me to her in the first place.
But I can’t help but want to be a little bit more selfish. To demand more of her care and radiant warmth, a little bit more of her time than the time that she provides to others.
Is it wrong of me to do so, to want to be above them? Maybe it is. Maybe I shouldn’t be feeling like this because I already have her. Maybe I shouldn’t be feeling like this when she obviously has things that she wants to do with her life, and who am I to get in her way?
Please look at me, Marinette. I need to be with you.
On some days, I become so infested with that selfish want that my fingers hover over her alarm clock’s on/off button. I wonder if she would clear her schedule for me if her alarm doesn’t ring, if her routine is broken. I fantasize about a whole day I could have her to myself and we could just cuddle up with blankets around us, watching the latest Miyazaki movie with hands intertwined and my cheeks on her crown. If we could have pancakes as breakfast together -- my treat -- and then talk about everything but also nothing at the same time as I fire away my puns that she would roll her eyes at and retaliate to with her witty comebacks.
But then I stop, because what if she finds out that I was the one who turned off her alarm? Would she be mad at me? Would she hate me? Would she not want to talk to me because I lied to her, maybe even file a divorce ?
I know that what I want to do is wrong. I shouldn’t want it; I want to be a good person, after all. But what really stops me from carrying it out is the fear of her reaction.
And that is what disgusts me.
Because I’ve always considered myself a good person. I help fallen people from the streets, I donate to charity, I used to save people’s lives on a daily basis. But maybe that heroism is no longer present and I’ve just became an empty shell of who I once was. An empty shell that is begging to be filled, that had been empty even before all of this started but now is just too depleted and emaciated to the point of desperation that the prospect of that not being filled is terrifying .
I need to be filled , my heart orders me, and if I’m not, you die .
Not physically, of course, but I doubt there’s anything worse.
In my moments of weakness, like today, I wish that I did succeed turning off her alarm clock. I beat myself in the head over it, because, after all, if I take action, if I forgo my morals for one second -- just one second -- would it be that bad? Maybe Marinette won’t be mad at me, maybe she’ll nod understandingly and pamper me like the spoiled boy I know I am. Maybe she’ll laugh at my antics and nod that she has wanted to spend time with me too, but because of work she’s just been caught up. And now that her schedule is no longer on schedule, she would say with that smile that warms my entire being, guess there is no other option than to spend it with me.
But the other option, the one where Marinette yells at me that I lied to her and that I’m being irrational, that she doesn’t want to be with me any longer because I’m too needy, impales me more powerfully than the void can.
And so I let the void slowly kill me from the inside.
I can’t get rid of that image of her. She’s facing forward while I’m behind her, her back visible but not her face.
I’ve seen this way too many times in real life. Everytime that she has to wake up early for work, every time that she gets home late and can only get out of her office clothes to crash into the bed. She’s always in that position, her bun tied high up and professional like it always is, as her hands move towards the pins on her hair to untie it.
But in my mind, she never does.
Sometimes, I wonder if I can still even remember her face. Whether or not I can picture those vibrant bluebell eyes of hers, twinkling with life and warmth and care and everything that I lacked in my life after my mother disappeared and before I met her. As I imagine it the more, they get dimmer and dimmer and the colors become greyer and greyer. Her skin is no longer glowing, but of now a sickly color, an impersonal and dim tone. The vibrant -- sometimes blindingly -- colors that used to flood my thoughts whenever I think of her are now tainted with a monochromatic filter, something that makes the whole memory become even more dull and dreadful than it actually is.
And this suffocates me more than the void in my heart, and I know I’m losing her.
Because she’s always looking forward, always looking ahead.
And so she never looks back, never looks at me .
And I’m the one who’s stuck in place, only able to look at her back as she sees the world.
Maybe that’s the problem. None of us has changed; we’ve stayed the same.
We’ve stagnated .
The thought stabs a rampant fear in my heart that I kick my sheets out, not caring where it goes as I kneel on the ground. I desperately clutch her hand as if it’s my lifeline (and it is), trembling.
“Please, Marinette,” I croak. “Please come back to bed.”
She only shakes her head with that warm and understanding smile that used to be my world. Now, it only shatters my heart. “I can’t, Adrien. I have to go to work .”
I still can’t see her face. But now, I can’t help but replace my father’s face with hers.
And this eats me up more than any loneliness ever could.
I scream and cry myself to bed, willing all of this to just be a nightmare that I’ll wake up from one day.
Maybe I was a fool, thinking that fashion could be my friend. That it could be something that I can enjoy. I thought this ever since Marinette came into my life.
But, no.
This is worse.
Because Marinette imbued warmth into fashion for me. Instead of it being monotonous as it used to be, fashion now became personal. Instead of it being cold and calculating, fashion now became warm and welcoming. Instead of becoming a way to show off status in an unfeeling world where reputation is the only thing that mattered, clothes now became a tool to express my personality in a world that embraced who I was.
But now, not only is it ripping everything back to the way it had been, it’s also taking away the only source of warmth I have left.
It took away my father. Now it wants to take away my wife.
I chuckle. I should have seen it coming.
But I didn’t.
And I can’t help but feel powerless. I don’t know what to do that would prevent it from taking Marinette away from me; I don’t know if there is something that I could do. I don’t know what I could do for her to stop looking forward and back at me.
I hate fashion.
Fashion took away my father.
Fashion took away my wife.
And now it wants to devour my soul.
And I don't know if I can stop it.
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(Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction) Unpredictable, Ch 2
This fic, as a whole, includes AU Yeah August’s Prompt Soulmate (Day 1), Reincarnation (14), Reverse Crush (19; sorta. Adrien likes Marinette first.) and Miraculous Fluff Month’s Prompt First Kiss (11), Friends to Lovers (9), Unexpected Reveal (28; it’s not identity though, because there are no miraculouses in this fic), and Soulmates (31)
Chapter 1
Posted on: AO3 FFN
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“Can’t you just call it a finished product? I don’t see anything wrong with it,” Alya turned her head to look at the almost finished clothing again. Her hands were lodged on the chair that Marinette was sitting in.
The blue-haired girl shook her head. Her right hand was now on the sketchbook. “Something is missing if I just leave it like this, Alya. But if I only add the lace on the neckline, the top part would look heavy compared to the bottom.”
Marinette sighed in frustration, raising her hands up in defeat. “I don’t know what to do with it, Alya!” She had gotten no inspiration throughout the six days she had been relieved of creating the bowler hat, and now she was desperate for something -- anything.
Which was strange when Marinette thought about it. Her visions usually happened three or four times a week, and if Paris wasn’t flooding inspiration into her brain, her visions were the ones doing the job for her. As a result, she rarely had to face slumps or artist’s block; she got everything she needed inside her brain. And sometimes more.
As much as inner turmoil the visions caused her, Marinette had to admit that her visions did do wonders for her creativity. She was constantly exposed to different elements of inspirations she could use in her fashion design through them, and she always jumped at the opportunity of making something beautiful from her suffering. As a result, her clothing choices had elements of anything from the fifth century to modern day. If one combined them to look at her works as a cohesive whole, they were sure to be disappointed.
Her works never coalesced together in themes nor a specific style; on the contrary, she created both creations of dark and light, earth and sky, fire and ice.
But something about her creations, when all seen together, had an… effect of some kind that many did not know what to call it. There was something profound and truthful that came as a result of all these haphazard themes thrown together randomly, they had all said, and made her works seem as if the themes were not random at all, but was rather chosen with the most absolutely painstaking care. Not because of how similar they were to each other, but because of how different they were to each other. And by throwing them all together in a gigantic fashion melting pot, it seemed, these seemingly contradictory, completely opposite and incompatible themes suddenly seemed… like they were on the same playing field. As if they all belonged on the same soccer team or something, having different roles to achieve a single goal.
When asked what goal it was, Marinette herself replied that she did not know. She only blindly followed what her brain told her to do, trusting that her creations would be right when it was finished.  She never put too much thought into what exactly she was creating, either, and what idea she was portraying. She found that not thinking about the ideas, paradoxically, made them come more alive in an intricate complex web of ideas.
Thinking only led to overthinking, she had learned the hard way, which led to doubts and simple errors that could have been avoided easily.
It was a lot easier to breathe sewing rather than just sew, and she supposed that what she was experiencing was part of the wonders of creating.
Because while the finished product was, without a shadow of a doubt, distinctly her, there was also something that was more than just her.
Contrary to what others may believe from this statement, however, her creations didn’t transcend her consciousness and break through the mass’s subconscious; rather, it was the individual and the masses. A part of a whole, of which Marinette’s story was a landmark that one could choose to start at, but was not the only -- nor the most important -- beginning nor the only story in the web.
When others asked about her designs with the same reverent tone that she had grown up with as a gymnast, Marinette only was able to shrug and say that she didn’t know what actually possessed her when she created. She was sure that it was not only her who had a part in her designs.
Her honest response to those who questioned the origins of her talent, thus, became of two categories.
The first were the people who gushed that she had an obvious gift from God, and that she was incredibly lucky to have found it at such a young age. They wished her luck on her endeavors and promised her that she’d go far in life.
The other were the people who attributed her creations to pure luck, and ominously threatened that one day, her luck will run out and she will not know what to do with it.
She had scoffed at their accusations; if luck was on her side, then why did she get visions in the first place?
Granted, she crafted beautiful creations from the help of those visions, but they had no idea what levels of pain she went through to get this far. If they did, then they might have watched their mouths.
Which made her start to think: was the thing that possessed her related to her visions?
Her visions had only lasted a second or two, tops, before the recent developments. Marinette was thus only one of the few who knew how literally fleeting inspiration could be and be of the few (or the only) who could call it that.
And since her inspirations were literally her visions, she couldn’t have been blamed for wanting to make a connection between the two strange and seemingly supernatural forces in her life.
However, now she was stuck at one of the most stressful and hardest obstacles in her designing history.
No visions had flooded Marinette’s mind at all this week, and so she was literally starving for inspiration, for that vision to strike her at any moment, pick her hand up to guide it seamlessly through the papers, and possess them with an uncanny grace that filled out the gaps that Marinette hadn’t even been aware of.
She waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Any moment now…
Any…
Moment…
Now...
It didn’t come.
She groaned, banging her head on the desk. Just when she needed inspiration, she didn’t get them. Instead, whenever she didn’t need them and sometimes was in situations where she was better off without them, because her sketchbook no longer had empty pages or her pencil broke inside the purse, she overflowed with them.
There just wasn’t any balance.
Overflowing inspiration, huh…
She began flipping pages to where her creations -- each at unique stages in development, ranging from conception to finalized and refined product -- were, a source of untapped inspiration that she had forgotten to use due to her mild artistic slump.
Yes… maybe the lace on the sleeves would be good? Maybe she should cut the back out altogether and replace it with a sheer material with flower prints, and...
Things were looking better, she thought excitedly.
Suddenly, her sketchbook was slammed shut.
She blinked in confusion. It was also partly from the too plentiful air assaulting her naked eyes; she had to protect them.
“Maybe you should take a break from designing?” the owner of the chocolate-colored hand said.
Marinette narrowed her eyes and pouted. “But I was just getting started…”
“Nuh uh uh,” Alya wiggled her fingers back and forth with the syllables, “You have been cooped up all day today here, missy.You are getting some fresh air.”
Marinette pouted in annoyance but did not object.
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Miraculous Ladybug is a rich kids show
Literaly. The kids in the show are all upper-class kids from rich families. 
The only fact that they live in Paris indicates that they are quite wealthy. I mean, Paris and its suburbs are the areas where the real estate prices are the higher in France. I mean… the price of a nice apartment that is not an HLM (low-cost housing) in a Parisian suburb is the same as one of a big house with garden and pool in less-well known cities on the “countryside” aka regions that are not near Paris or in the touristic South. 
If you don’t have a lot of money, the only way to have a flat in Paris is to 1- buy something really small 2- buy something in bad shape 3- buy something illegal.
So, already, to live in nice flat, in nice buildings, in nice and clean parts of the capital, and close to the historical and cultural landmarks ; putting aside the fact that this is an idealized Heaven-like-Paris, like I mentionned earlier in my posts ; shows us that they are probably at minimum from an upper middle class. 
But then>… I mean, just look at the kids’ parents! The best baker in all of Paris? A world-famous designer? The curator of the Louvres? The mayor of Paris? 
Conclusion: the collège Françoise Dupont is one of those elitist middle school for rich kids. 
Yep, Miraculous is a bit of an elitist show. Who would have thought? 
Edit: I’ve seen that the Collège is being referred to as a “public secondary school”. Well, honestly, looks more a private one to me, but anyway… Heaven-Paris is Heaven-Paris: everyone is rich and everyone is welcome!
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(Miraculous Ladybug Fanfic): Silver and Gold Ch 3
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Chapter 3: Canoe Ride
Posted on: AO3 FFN
(Read Chapter 1
Read Chapter 2)
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The next day, Chat came through the trap door to see Marinette hunched over her desk, writing on a piece of paper that he recognized as today’s literature homework.
This was the first time that he had seen her do anything that wasn’t waiting for him, he realized, and he immediately felt guilty and grateful for the time that Marinette dedicated towards him.
“The cookies and hot chocolate are by the computer,” she said, pointing with her pencil in the general direction. Then she quickly flicked her pencil back to the paper.
Chat jumped onto the floor with a soft thud . “You’re not going to eat any?”
She shrugged. “I’ll eat after I finish this,”.
“Speaking of, what are you working on?”
“My French literature homework. I’m falling behind, I have to write fifteen pages, and the essay’s due the day after tomorrow.” She gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, minou ; I can’t hang out today. But you’re welcome to stay if you want to.”
She’s behind because of me, he thought as guilt stabbed his stomach.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked. “Maybe your school and my school’s curriculums overlap.”
She shook her head. “I’m at the writing stage now, so all I have to do is to get my thoughts written down on paper. Thanks for the offer, though.”
At that, Chat looked around for quiet things to do while Marinette was working. After finishing two more cookies, he decided to grab a pair of headphones and watch some movies.
It felt strange to him, sitting on the computer chair rather than the chaise. It was like he was missing something -- someone .
But it still felt better than being alone in his room.
After the credits rolled, Chat exited the screen and turned off the computer with a sigh. He pushed the chair out, darting left and right for more things to do, when he spotted Marinette still crouched down, pencil scratching at the paper. The light from her lamp illuminated the sweat on her forehead as the sweat ran down her forehead to her cheeks and traversed diagonally down her face. It reached her tongue, which was stuck out in concentration.
Marinette sputtered in surprise as the liquid touched her tongue. Chat whipped his head back in laughter, clutching at his stomach and wheezing at the lack of air. She, in response, turned towards him with an indignant expression.
“S-sorry,” he wiped his tear. “I-I just didn’t expect your reaction. It was hilarious .”
After what seemed like an eternity of glaring, Marinette whipped her face away from him and muttered the words “stupid cat” under her breath.
It turned out that observing Marinette work was far more entertaining than all the movies he had watched combined . There was just something about it, from the way her tongue stuck out in concentration to the way her eyes darted back and forth with a slight frown on her lips to the way she tapped the end of the pencil with her lips whenever she was stuck and from the way she bit her lips in frustration to the subsequent gleam of absolute ecstasy and exuberance in her eyes that was just highly entertaining to him. He memorized every one of her expressions while he watched her work and told himself that it was only for comedic purposes.
The day after, Marinette noticed that Chat brought his homework with him to her room the next day. They worked next to each other in relative silence, save for the occasional snickers from the feline superhero. When she looked in his general direction at the odd sounds, he reenacted the facial expressions she had made. He did it in the most ridiculous way possible. She scowled every time, but this just made him laugh harder. So, with a resigned sigh, she ignored his snickers and cackles and worked until she had nothing to work with.
She braced herself internally for the hell called Chat’s teasing that would follow.
After a few days of playing board games (that weren’t Monopoly) and doing homework, the two fell into a comfortable agreement with each other. They didn’t always feel the need to do something together and left the other alone when they were busy, but nevertheless appreciated each other’s company when they could.
And today, Marinette and Chat sat side by side watching My Neighbor Totoro. Their heads and shoulders were not touching like it had been after they had gone to see the lights, but each found warmth from each other’s presence.
When Satsuki -- a ten year old girl -- and Mei -- Satsuki’s four year old sister -- first arrived in their new home, Marinette was suddenly reminded of the night that all of this had started after Satsuki almost broke a pillar and had to balance it right again using her body.
As the sounds of giggling girls permeated the room, she took the chance.
“Chat?” she asked.
“Yeah?” he said gently. He was smiling.
“You know the day when I had seen you near the bakery?”
There was a pause. “Yeah?” his smile turned neutral as he looked at her warily, evidently on guard.
“D-” she began, but paused for far too long. “Do you want to talk about it?” she breathed. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Satsuki and Mei began running outside, giggling and laughing with hands out like an airplane.
There was silence. His eyes were glued on the screen. “No. I’d rather not.” There was sadness, there was bitterness, and there was rage .
The tension was palpable. “O-okay.”
She turned her eyes back to the movie, occasionally looking from her peripheral vision to see Chat’s face. He, thankfully, was happy throughout most of the movie, although she saw glints of sadness from time to time.
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Miraculous Ladybug Villains: Climatika
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So, my first villain… Climatika in French, Stormy Weather in English. Climatika is of course a pun on the French word “climat” (climate) and “climatique” (climatic), with a -ka being added in the end to make it more aggressive (k), female (a) and maybe as a reference to Katrina, the dreadful hurricane.
Climatika is the archetypal “weather villain”. That is to say the villain that controls the weather. It dates back to the old mythologies, with the incarnations of the destructive forces of nature. Gods were using thunder and rain as a way to punish people, wipe out civilizations, and many cultures greatly feared the winds that brought with them coldness or storms. The north wind in Greek mythology, Boreas, was known to be a brutal and ruthless one. Zeus and Indra are both using thunder as a deadly weapon to punish people, and weren’t always depicted in myths as the kindest gods. The Japanese storm-god Susanoo was also a big troublemaker, going so far as to take part in murder, rapes and skinning ponies. And in the French folklore, both rain and frosts are often associated with witches and female demons, among other evil creatures.
The apparition of storms is also a common trope of evil. Whenever a bad action is done, you’re near a villain’s lair, a demon is released or any evil-doer is coming, dark clouds, rain, thunder, strong winds or a full storm will follow. The most famous horror-storms being, of course, the ones surrounding Dracula’s and doctor Frankenstein’s castle.
So anyway, it is no surprise to see villain’s control bad weather. They are after all one of the violent sides of nature. The wrath of the sky was always one of humanity’s greatest threat. You can fight someone who tries to attack you, you can flee from wild beasts, but what can you do against being struck by lightning?
However, what’s so unusual about Climatika is the amount of power she concentrates. Usually a villain’s controlling the weather controls only thunder/lighting or wind. Not both. And on top of that, you can add rain and hail. This makes her a truly powerful and impressive villain, with goddess-like powers.
Two small notes. 
One, you can notice that she has a tendency to use ice and cold a lot. It is probably because she is the akumatized version of Aurore Beauréal whose name is a play on “aurore boréale” (aurora borealis), the beautiful “lights in the sky” that happens in the northern and cold countries, full of ice and snow. 
Two, the fact that her akumatized item is an umbrella. It is for me strongly reminiscent of the Wicked Witch of the West, from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, because in the original book the Witch was always carrying with her an umbrella, and in some adaptations, it became her “magic item”. The Wizard of Oz, a story that involves a tornado/hurricane… See the link? And by the way, another interesting side note: in many European regions, the West Wind is seen as the bad one, not the North one, because the West wind brings all sorts of storms and rains.
Edit: Also, in May of this year (2018), some pictures of the Eiffel tower made the news, because during storms the tower was hit by lightning. You can go see them if you like.
Edit 2: The design of Climatika, especially the use of purple and its different shades may be a nod to Stormy, one of the Trix, a trio of evil witches in Winx Club (Stormy being, as her name indicates, a storm-controlling witch)
Edit 3: (Gosh, I’m sorry for the edits but I just have ideas that keep coming) I forgot to mention another typical example of weather-controlling villains. I don’t know their official name in English, so I’ll use the french word “les tempestaires”. A tempestaire is a kind of witch/wizard specialized in storm magic. They are part of the countryside European folklore, and they were one of the great fears of the old time, because they had the power to destroy all crops thanks to spells and curses that would create storms, hail, heavy rains or droughts, thus causing famines and misery. You can tell that they were considered as very dangerous and almost always as evil, often servants of the Devil. 
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The Blue Rose Ch7 (MLB FF)
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Prompt: Future
Dinner was just as stifling as being around his father had started becoming.
The most likely reason for this silence was the argument that the father and son had not a few hours ago. Both males kept to themselves, contemplative and brooding, but for different reasons.
For Adrien, he was uncomfortable. But this wasn't because he despised his dad for not accepting Marinette. No; it was more of an apprehensive nature, a constant anxiety that he wasn't supposed to act this way. It was way out of line for him, in terms of both comfort and what he could do as Gabriel's son.
He considered apologizing to his father for his out of line behavior multiple times in his head, but squashed all of those down. It wasn't that Adrien was the one at fault here; no, it was his father for not even giving Marinette a chance.
He liked to tell himself this for fear that he, himself, did actually do something in the wrong. Because as much as he was sure that he had said things that were way out of hand, he wanted to think that he was justified in saying them. But admitting that he had done something wrong, even when he knew it deep down, seemed like a too big of a burden to bear for the boy.
He must have been fidgety enough that Marinette noticed, however.
She gave him a firm grip under the table. "Are you okay?" she whispered.
"I... yeah."
She frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Pause. He shook his head and smiled forlornly. There just wasn't fooling his partner, was there?
But he wanted to be selfish. Just for this one time.
"Okay." she said.
They ate together mostly in silence.
Marinette's hands served as a source of comfort and warmth for Adrien, in a way that he was deeply familiar with and also wasn't.
The skin and skin contact is nice, he thought with a nostalgic tone in his voice.
Meanwhile, Gabriel was going through all sorts of emotions.
At first, he felt anger that Adrien had talked to him in such a way. He was his son, how dare he speak to him that way?
He brooded like that for the most of dinner, festering with unexpressed resentment for the way his son had disrespected him. And for that girl for making him...
What did he have to blame for her?
He knew the girl, of course, and respected her. She was a quite talented designer. She was hardworking, dedicated, and had pride in her designs.
And from the way she gripped his son's hands to give him comfort, she was also caring. And the longer he watched her try to comfort his son, the less he believed that she would use Adrien for her own gains.
He hadn't believed it that much himself in the first place; after all, the girl was talented enough that she didn't need any extra boosts to get into the industry. But the fashion industry was competitive, and many people used whatever means they could to get their name out there. She could get caught up in the atmosphere and be tempted to use Adrien for her own gains, and what was worse, his son would be more than happy to be used.
There was also the possibility that she was a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Therefore, Gabriel had to be the level adult by looking out for the more unpleasant possibilities that his son couldn't - wouldn't - see. The boy was blinded by love, it was obvious to see, and it was Gabriel's job to make sure that Adrien wasn't used by anyone else.
But that still didn't explain what made Gabriel act so... unlike himself with his... fight with Adrien.
(He chuckled. A fight.)
Gabriel wasn't the type of person to blabber about his thoughts without putting much thought into it. No; he contemplated and made projections into the future based on how his experiences had added up for him. He always was taking things in, looking for people and things he could use to further his own means, exploit seemingly harmless but deadly openings, and making predictions as to how successful his plans would be. He never stopped calculating things in his head, and he rarely expressed the mountain of thoughts that his mind actually possessed; people were lucky if they even got five percent of the contents of his brain.
Thus, he was baffled at the way he had reacted with his son an hour ago. What had made him say such unfounded thoughts within him?
Sure, the possibility that Marinette was just dating Adrien because she could use him was a possibility, but he hadn't truly believed it. The likelihood of Marinette Dupain-Cheng being a wolf in sheep's clothing had been about thirty percent, which was far less than the required seventy percent likelihood he had to believe to express his thoughts.
After all, he didn't want to be the man who cried wolf.
But this time, it had been different. He had accused Miss Dupain-Cheng of things that he didn't even know would happen.
He had seen some optimistic and enthusiastic talented designers like her who had fallen into the clutches of the fashion industry. He might have considered himself one. But something told him that Miss Dupain-Cheng had a sort of inner moral system that would not budge no matter what pressure was applied to it. Therefore, his outburst was unfounded and disturbingly emotional.
This was all unfounded on silly gut feelings, however, and had no basis on reality.
He did still, however, somehow believe that Miss Dupain-Cheng was good. He didn't know why, but he did.
Good for his son, good for the fashion industry, good for maybe even the world.
Maybe that was why he didn't like her.
Plus, she reminded him too much of Emilie.
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Unpredictable, a MLB FF
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This fic, as a whole, includes AU Yeah August’s Prompt Soulmate (Day 1), Reincarnation (14), Reverse Crush (19; sorta. Adrien likes Marinette first.) and Miraculous Fluff Month’s Prompt First Kiss (11), Friends to Lovers (9), Unexpected Reveal (28; it’s not identity though, because there are no miraculouses in this fic), and Soulmates (31)
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Summary: Marinette has visions: random flashes of images in her mind that appear at any time of the day. They all feature different characters and settings, each one as different from, if not more, than the last. However, when she meets a certain blonde-haired, green-eyed man, she finds her life changing in a way that she would never have expected. Soulmate AU.
A/N: I was looking at the Miraculous Fluff Month prompts when I saw Day 11's prompt, which was first kiss. I thought about doing something different from what one would usually think about when we usually think of a first kiss featuring Adrienette, and I eventually ended up using one of my old ideas on how Marinette would get images flashing in her head randomly (if i tell you more though, it would be spoilers) and created this monster. I'm thinking that it could be a two-shot or a three-shot. I am not exactly sure at this point.
Preview:
Marinette was clumsy but for the wrong reasons.
It wasn’t that she lacked coordination, by any chance. No; when she set her mind to it, she had the capacity of being extremely graceful, or so she had been called.
She still remembered taking gymnastics as a little girl. The coach had showered her with praise, excitedly talking about how she could create a star out of the blue-haired six year old within ten years time, all the while spewing the word like it was the answer to all of her problems. The amount of gushing and expectations (that had been already set ridiculously high) had only increased as the years went by, she remembered with both fondness and a bad taste in her mouth. Fond because she was able to push her body to her limits and be around girls her age that weren’t Chloé, bitter because throughout these years of being constantly pushed to her limits, Marinette regularly faced envy and jealousy from her fellow classmates.
Gymnastics was part of what had made Marinette Marinette , from the sheer dedication and work ethic she possessed when determined, to her overly accommodating nature that always put others above herself first.
However, outside of gymnastics, she always had and still did trip in midair or wandered about with a “lost look” in her eyes, as everyone liked to say, with seemingly no apparent purpose to outsiders. When contrasted with the seemingly effortless grace she possessed in competitions, this unexpected clumsiness, as people liked to call it, only served to baffle people. How could, they thought, such a talented gymnast be so clumsy?
Some people thought her clumsiness outside of gymnastics as endearing, while those with more malevolent emotions towards the bluenette claimed that she had been only doing this to get attention, and Chloé had definitely been part of the latter.
However, Marinette did not blame them for being so surprised. One time, the designer had almost walked in front of a red light. Had her best friend Alya not yanked Marinette back with a certain kind of practiced panic in her face, Marinette would have been roadkill -- literally.
Such happened so frequently that the red-head occasionally joked that being Marinette’s best friend required one to be somehow related to a bodyguard. Whether that meant that the person was a family of one, was one, or had been one in a past life, it did not matter. The only thing that was required of them was to “protect precious Marinette” from getting “steamrolled by the cold, unfeeling world,” as Alya had said to the blue-haired girl on a slumber party night.
Of course, Alya did not actually believe in past lives and only had mentioned that in passing, as her best friend was one of the most practical people Marinette had ever had the pleasure of meeting. But ever since Alya had uttered those words, the concept had fascinated the blue-haired girl and created a fire within her, a fascination that always seemed so out of reach to fulfill yet always there.
She never had gone out of her way to research about reincarnation or any other popular theories, however. She was perfectly fine with not knowing whether or not reincarnation held veracity. She was a simple girl with a simple life, she liked (and simultaneously disliked) to tell herself. Thus, she didn’t need to know the deep mysteries of the universe. She only needed to know the ones that mattered to her , were her own deep secrets of her own universe. Whether or not that coincided with the “truth” was an afterthought to Marinette, and so she had never been the one to subscribe to all the works on spirituality.
Many would have considered her a fool who just didn’t want to face the truth had they learned this about her. However, Marinette didn’t really careabout those haughty opinions. She doubted that everyone could have the exact same truth when each individual’s experiences were so differentfrom one another, after all. Everyone had basic commonalities, yes, and there was a likelihood that there would be a one cohesive truth that tied everyone’s truth together. The only difference in each person’s interpretation, then, would be the fact that they were accessing the truth from a different angle. But what difference was there if yin and yang were the ultimately the same? People saw them as opposite forces, and if one didn’t dig deep enough to see that it was, indeed, ultimately the same, they fervently believed in duality. Plus,the more general you became, the less personal and warm it became.
And as Marinette was a simple girl with a simple life, personal was practically her middle name.
In fact, she sometimes hated the fact that she took everything so personally. When a baby cried in the street after she had walked by them, she would think to herself that it was her doing. When a girl in her gymnastics class had given her the stink eye (which was likely from unwarranted jealousy, a fact she had to remind herself every time she beat herself up about these kinds of situations), she would immediately think to what she had done wrong to warrant such a response. When a ball was suddenly thrown from the left field of her life, she chastised herself for not seeing the hit coming when, looking back, it had been so obvious .
Even when Alya consoled her, saying that Marinette couldn’t have possibly seen that coming, and that it was truly unexpected to everyone, it did not help the bluenette feel any better. Expect the unexpected, the famous saying went, and Marinette always tried her hardest to live up to that motto. She had to be prepared for everything, at least mentally, because if she wasn’t, she didn’t know what she would do. She hated to even think of accepting the fact that there were always going to be unexpected situations in her life, no matter how much she could expect. So, she fervently denied it.
However, if one looked at her life in depth, even the mere thought that Marinette didn’t accept the unexpected would have been laughable .
Because like the saying that went “the only constant in life is change,” the only constant in her life was the unexpected.
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Right after the televised portion of tonight’s Teen Choice awards, it was announced that Miraculous is the 2018 winner of #choiceanimatedtvshow, and its ALL THANKS TO YOU GUYS!!! Thanks so much to our fans, Fox, and the incredible shows we were nominated with!!! Be Miraculous!
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MLB Fanfiction: Silver and Gold Ch 2
Chapter 1
Posted on: AO3 FFN
Summary:
Parisians everywhere are speculating about the nature of the mysterious silver light that keeps popping up everywhere when, one day, Marinette meets an emotionally unstable Chat Noir. After a traumatic encounter with the superhero, she resolves to help him with his problems. Neither of them knew or could have guessed, however, that this was the start of something bigger for the two of them.
Preview of Ch 2:
With a plate of cookies and hot chocolate set aside on her bed, Marinette looked up at the trap door that led to the balcony.
She took a deep breath and sighed. This was it. She was going to, hopefully, find out what was bugging Chat Noir and help him solve it.
Half the battle was won, getting the chance to help him. Now she needed to win the other half.
She plastered on a welcoming grin as she opened the trap door and carried the plate in her right hand. Climbing with the left, Marinette set the plate aside when she finally reached the ground.
“Hey,” she said gently as she climbed out. Chat Noir was sitting near the railing, looking out in the distance.
It was a shocking seriousness that she had never seen on the blond before.
He turned around to greet her with a small smile of his own. “Hey,” he said. Although he tried to look reassuring and like himself, he didn’t convince Marinette.
“I’ve got some cookies and hot chocolate for you,” she said. She picked up the plate and headed towards the superhero. “I hope you’re okay with chocolate chip,” she said as she set the plate down near him.
“Of course. Thank you,” he said, as he grabbed a cookie and accepted hot chocolate from Marinette. The tone of his voice made it seem like he was thanking her for more than just the food and drinks.
She smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said in the sincerest tone possible.
They ate in relative silence, enjoying and comforted by each other’s presence.
When the pile of cookies was no more and the cups of hot chocolate were empty, she opened her mouth and closed it again. She then opened it and closed it again.
“So…” she began and was happy to see a contented Chat Noir looking at her in the eyes.
How should she start? Should she address the elephant in the room, that he had been breaking down in front of her and ask him what’s wrong? No, she didn’t think. She shouldn’t do that, not right now. She had done once already, and he had frozen in terror.
Then should she ask about the mundane things, like the weather? She probably shouldn’t ask how he has been as a conversation starter, because no one breaks down when everything is going fine. Should she ask why he was around here? But she doubted that the reason that he was around here wasn’t related to the sensitive subject at hand. She had a hunch that it was related to the silver light, and by the silver light, she meant Chat’s baton that had, looking back, been so obvious. How had she missed it? She was incredibly stupid.
She probably shouldn’t ask if he was okay because it was clear he wasn’t. This also meant that she couldn’t address the recent urban legend, because it was clear Chat was the cause of the urban legend and it probably had to do with his condition right now. She probably couldn’t address the night when he had protected her from the criminals, because she was sure that that was part of the bigger picture of what was going on with him.
Then, she remembered that he played Ultimate Mecha Strike III.
“Do you play any games?” Marinette asked.
Chat looked at her with a raised brow, clearly confused. “Yeah, I play Ultimate Mecha Strike III in my free time.”
“That’s great!” Marinette smiled. “Ultimate Mecha Strike III is my favorite game!”
Chat gave her a gentle grin. She still couldn’t believe that this boy had almost blown a hole through a man’s stomach that day. “Are you good?”
She snorted, trying for some semblance of much-needed normality. “Good?” her lips turned upwards into a smirk. “I’m one of the best.”
He chuckled. “Really?” he said in a tone that sounded as if he believed it but pretended not to for some reason. That confused her, but it was better not to pry at this point. Especially when she had already done so enough.
“Of course. I represented my school at a gaming competition with a friend. We won first place!” she smiled. She hoped that she didn’t sound full of herself.
He chuckled. “That’s impressive,” he said. “But how do we know if you’re good? Maybe your friend was the one who was good.” Something about the tone sounded teasing, as if he knew the truth but said the exact opposite to get a reaction out of her.
Oh, it was on .
She scoffed. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” she dared, standing up. “Let’s duel.”
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MLB Fluff Month Oneshot: Jack of All Trades
Day 8′s Prompt Oneshot: Late Nights @miraculousfluffmonth
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Summary: When Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino stay up late to play Slapjack and it gets bizarrely competitive.
One shot for Miraculous Fluff Month.
Preview: 
Adrien was excited.
This was the first time that his father had allowed a sleepover -- a sleepover! He had only seen it from movies and heard of it from people online, and no, he did not count Chloe.
His mother and Chloe’s mother had been close ever since he was little and thus they had been acquainted with each other ever since he was little. This also meant that his father had approved of their friendship even before it had started. Since Chloe was more of family than friend, it wasn’t a friendship that was done from his own accord and was one created from pure circumstance and perhaps necessity. But this -- this was different. They were his friends not because someone else had told him to be; they were his friends because he wanted them to be.
Therefore when his father allowed him a sleepover knowing fully well that Nino was going to be there, Adrien had been ecstatic . Although his father had said some things about how hopefully “Miss Dupain-Cheng will keep him in line” which had undoubtedly generated a frown from his son, Adrien was hopeful that this would be the start of something good. His father was warming up to the DJ; he was sure of it.
He really appreciated Marinette’s efforts to make sure that he was going to be, without a doubt, at the sleepover. Even though the girl was still shy and rambled when she was with him, Marinette had been a big part of making this sleepover possible. She had offered her room for the sleepover, contacted Gabriel Agreste multiple times to persuade him to let his son have a sleepover with his three friends, and asked Adrien about any allergies (excluding feathers) he had to make sure that the stay would be as comfortable as possible.
He had been floored to know that someone could go to such lengths to just make a person feel welcome.
He was grateful to have Marinette in his life.
He entered the bakery at 7PM and was immediately squished into a body-crushing hug.
“Adrien, my boy! You’re here!” the burly man laughed.
“Hello, Monsieur Dupain,” Adrien gave a smile. Some of the syllables escaped his lungs and his voice cracked on the “pain.”
“There is no need; call me Tom!” Monsieur Dupain grinned widely.
“Thanks… Tom.” Oh god, was he awkward.
Monsieur Dupain -- Tom, Adrien reminded himself -- only chuckled, which Adrien guessed was a good sign.
“How have you been?” he said softly.
It shocked Adrien.
“Uh… good, sir.”
Monsieur Dupain -- Tom -- laughed.
With Adrien still in his arms, Tom craned his neck towards the stairs. “Marinette! Adrien is here!”
“Send him up, papa!” Papa?
Monsieur Dupain -- Tom -- chuckled. “Okay, honeybuns!”
Adrien chuckled. Honeybuns?
“Paaaaapaaaaa!” a whine came from the stairs.
At his daughter’s lament, Tom laughed the biggest laugh that Adrien had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. His chest moved up and down at the involuntary action, which rocked Adrien back and forth. He had mirth in his eyes as his mouth moved as if he was speaking something without words.
It was as if Adrien was transported back in time. In this moment, he was four again, in his mother’s laughing arms, with her head tilted back and laughing from the top of her lungs as she carried a tired Adrien from the woods.
He liked it. A lot.
“Oh!” Tom suddenly said. “I’m sorry,” he put Adrien down gently. Tom averted his gaze from him, rubbing his nape sheepishly. The familiar gesture did not go unnoticed, and Adrien beamed. “I must have, uh, gotten carried away, have I?”
“It’s not a problem, Monsieur Dupa--Tom.” Mirth danced in Adrien’s eyes.
Tom’s sheepish look became a warm and gentle smile. “Well then, what are you waiting for, son? Marinette is waiting for you!” he pat Adrien’s back, giggling at the words.
Adrien raised a brow but did not comment.
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(MLB FF) Silver and Gold
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(Word Count: 6405)
Chapter 1: Silver Light
Preview (since uploading the entire 6405 words would be wrong, I only posted the first thousand words or so on Tumblr) :
Chat had been vaulting across the city, reaching great heights and falling back down and repeating the act over and over again when a devious idea sprouted from his mind.
He had had a photo shoot not too long ago, which had ended rather quickly but contained none of the mirths that usually came whenever he was allowed to break his intended schedule and have an unplanned respite from the average day of being the son of a famous fashion designer. Instead, he felt… empty.
Despite this, or perhaps because of this feeling, he had transformed into the leather-clad superhero bad-boy (as he liked to believe himself as) Chat Noir to get a breath of fresh air.
Had a person seen the skies at this moment, they would have thought that it was a daredevil raven or any other bird with black wings that was testing the limits of his flight. Of course, he was not a bird but a wannabe one.
Whether or not this metaphor applied to the leather-clad hero, however, was up for debate.
And now, he came up with an idea that could test the limits to the utmost extreme.
With a cocky and self-satisfied smirk, Chat planted his staff on the ground as he extended the stick upwards. He saw clouds passing him by, the blue sky becoming increasingly bluer. He saw the sun getting closer and closer to him.
The thought filled him with glee.
He extended and extended and extended… until he didn’t.
Slightly annoyed by the sudden lack of movement yet not willing that get to him, the superhero raised his hands up, wanting to grab something -- anything.
He didn’t know why he did this, but he had long learned not to question his gut feelings. They usually led him to the right ways, and overthinking things just made the experiences much more miserable.
But he soon forgot about his own advice as he thought about trying to grab the sun, yet held back. That is preposterous, he chastised himself. Because even though the ball of heat had fascinated him to no ends ever since he was in diapers, he knew he was insufferably and irrevocably far from actually being in its proximity. And now, he wasn’t a kid. Trying to delude himself into thinking that he could have the sun in his fingertips was for little kids who knew little about the world, not teenagers who had had experiences that some in their fifties wouldn’t experience.
It’s for the best, he thought with a bitter taste in his mouth. If he was to get close to the sun, after all, he would be scorched to heaven.
So he tried to grab something more… accessible. With another try of the hand, he managed to fist a tiny amount of clouds inside his hands. Or, at least, he saw that he had. His gloved claws didn’t feel any different from they did before, but with a certain gleam in his eyes that was confident he had carried out his objective to completion, he looked at his prized fist with an unrestrained smile. He opened it, expecting the world, a change, a warm giddiness. Something -- anything. It did not matter what. It was probably better than what he had. Whatever it was, he would be perfectly content with it and would cherish it as one of his few dear memories in a childhood gone terribly wrong.
But when he opened his prized possession, he was faced with… nothing.
Of course, he thought bitterly. Of course it would! What had he been thinking? He ducked his neck and huffed disappointment from his nose. This -- this was stupid. He was no longer five; he was fifteen, for god’s sake!
He looked down at the busy city underneath. What used to be buildings of all different shapes and sizes now all looked the same: all rectangular and grey. There were some things moving on the streets, which he guessed were cars, that should have been a nice refreshment from the dull monotony of it all.
However, it wasn’t; it was just another kind of monotony: they all uniformly trod along like ants in a single file line. The colors and size were not that different from ants, either. The motion made it so that differences in color were not caught with his eyes, making the entire experience as unpleasant as possible. It brought a foul taste in Chat’s mouth, and he forced his tongue out in a show of disgust.
He hated it.
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Adrien and Marinette are both justified.
Background Knowledge: In the recent San Diego Comic Convention read-aloud of the script for Malediktator, Chloé's mother decides that the family should move to New York. Adrien and Marinette's classmates are all excited by the prospect, except of course, for Adrien.
Okay, guys.
Even though Chloé can be a petty b*tch and bully, Chloé was still Adrien's childhood -- and first -- friend. Even though this could just be Adrien being unaware of how toxic Chloé was back then or now, Chloé was there for Adrien when he was starved from the company of kids his age. She was the one who welcomed him with (too) open arms when he first came to school (keep in mind that before the gum incident, he likely didn't know how petty and bratty she could be because Chloé tries her best to be nice to Adrien). He tries to put distance between her and him throughout most of the Miraculous Ladybug episodes, because he now has friends that are nice to other people and isn't clingy or possessive of him. Chloé is the one constantly throwing herself at him and breaking his boundaries. And as the son of two overprotective parents, he probably doesn't have that much of a boundary to begin with. He is trying to, through school and also his hero work, find out who he is and assert his independence. Create boundaries for himself and find a company of genuinely well-intentioned friends. In the process, he is distancing himself between him and Chloé even more, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't care about her.
Chloé is Adrien's first friend. While Adrien may not approve of the way she has turned out, he knows her from when they were in diapers. And this kind of familiarity, combined with the fact that she is his first friend (and only friend for a long time), makes it so that he automatically cares about her. He wants to see her be happy despite not approving of her ways of doing so. Chloé is an important person to him and even if Adrien tries to distance himself from Chloé's current actions, she still is part of the inner circle of the people he cares about.
Of course, the people inhabiting that inner circle are some of the most toxic relationships in the entire series. They include Chloé and him and him and his father. However, that doesn't mean that Adrien can't care about them. In fact, he does care about them deeply, especially his father. As to if he shouldn't is up for question, but I won't go deeper into that one.
Therefore, it makes sense that Adrien is hurt by the way his class reacts to Chloé's departure. In his eyes, Chloé has done a lot of wrong things, yes, but she still can be good and isn't an incorrigibly terrible person. She is a (very) flawed childhood friend of his, who shouldn't be getting this type of treatment as if she is the ultimate baddie. She isn't, in his eyes, and she can be good. It's just that baggage from her childhood is weighing her down.
However, no one else sees this. All they see is the biggest bully in school finally leaving so that they no longer have to be tormented ever again. Because no one knows Chloé like Adrien knows her, except for possibly Sabrina. But Sabrina has been treated wrongly by Chloé and may revel in the new chapter in her life which makes her join in Marinette's celebration. Meanwhile, Adrien has never been abused or bullied by Chloé, and she has never taken advantage of Adrien in a way that he could see as harming him. Chloé uses his reputation, of course, and she constantly pushes his boundaries, and may also leech onto him, but it's not like how she reacts to other classmates. She goes out of her way to be nice to Adrien.
However, this does not mean that Marinette is at fault here. Because Chloé has been in the same class as Marinette for four years, Marinette must be familiar with Chloé's ways. To Marinette, Chloé is her tormentor, the person who ruins her day and has for the past four years. The person who may be responsible for her insecurity, who makes her feel like trash. Chloé is nothing but a villain in Marinette's life, and always has been. When news of Chloé's departure hits her, she is ecstatic because that means her tormentor is now leaving. Marinette doesn't want Chloé to die, of course not, but she wants her days to be peaceful, to not have to worry about Chloé bullying others and subsequently akumatizing them. And now, with her bully leaving to New York, Marinette finally gets the peace of mind that she has only dreamed of for years.
Marinette is not celebrating Chloé's departure; she is celebrating her own future without a tormentor.
However, Adrien doesn't know this. He doesn't know what horrible things Chloé has done to Marinette for four whole years and what toll it has taken on Marinette. He only sees the brave girl that stands up to Chloé's bullshit in ways that he can't, because Marinette doesn't care about what Chloé thinks of her. He probably automatically assumes that this is how it has always been like. Chloé always being called out by Marinette and Marinette standing her ground like the cornucopia of strength she is. (Which probably confuses him even more, because Marinette is so shy around him, but anyways getting back to the point.) He doesn't know anything about the behind the scenes about Marinette and Chloé, and Marinette doesn't know the full picture of Adrien and Chloé.
Adrien is just upset that a dear childhood friend of his could be treated with such disregard.
Also, in verbalizing his emotions, Adrien does not try to shame Marinette or others for celebrating because he delibrately wants them to be ashamed of themselves. He does not commit any character assassinations on any person in the class. He just states his feelings on the topic and what he believes. The result of what he does creates shame for Marinette, but it wasn't meant to be like that.
In fact, I think Adrien dating Marinette will actually improve the situation. Marinette will demand that Adrien pick a side if Chloé has not proved to learn from her ways. She will also probably not put up with his indecisiveness, making him confront the problem head-on. And because he can now know what effects Chloé has had on Marinette, Adrien will start seeing Chloé's flaws even clearer than he already does right now and can now put a foot down. That he will not tolerate disrespect towards his girlfriend or anyone else for that matter. This will do wonders, because through this act, he can now develop a healthy boundary for himself and gain some independence. Chloé and Adrien's father are alike in many ways and treat Adrien similarly. By putting his foot down on Chloé, Adrien can get a boost of confidence so that he can finally face his father. Demand that he treat him better, that he can't dictate every minute of his life.
As for Marinette, she will no longer have to deal with a tormentor in her or her classmates' lives. Chloé is more likely to listen to Adrien than everyone else. Even if Chloé accuses Adrien of betraying her, Adrien's words are more likely to make Chloé reassess her actions. There is no way that Chloé can get out of such a battle unscathed. As a plus, Marinette will no longer have to worry about so many akumas. She can be lovey-dovey with Adrien, chase her dreams of becoming a designer, and superhero on the side with time for Alya and so much more. The world thanks Chloé for her lack of contributions to society, kids.
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Adrien , Chloe, and SDCC
I figured I should talk about this. 
First off, my opinion is completely understanding as to why Adrien does not want Chloe to leave and why he still wants Chloe as a friend. 
To begin, let’s start with the second day a school. AKA the gum incident (Origins pt 2). Chloe puts gum on Marinette’s seat in order to “command respect.” Breaking this down into Chloe’s personal psychology, she is trying to assert her dominance. Usually, when people do this, it is because they are super insecure about themselves. If you don’t believe me, her butler confirms this in season 2′s “Despair Bear” when her mother leaves. Therefore, causing Chloe to lose an important female role model in her life. Anyway, back to my point. Adrien, being the sweet boy he is, decides to remove the gum from Marinette’s seat because he found it unnecessary. This is the first time Adrien sees his peers disdain for Chloe, and says:
“I’ve known Chloe since I was a kid. She’s not perfect, but I can’t throw her under the bus. She’s my only friend.” 
These are the things that we need to keep in mind when it comes to Adrien and Chloe. She’s a childhood friend. She’s not perfect. She was Adrien’s only friend for a significant amount of time. 
Now, with that being said, the argument’s people are bringing up are:
-Adrien has seen Chloe’s cruelty and chooses to be friends with her. (He could’ve cut her off in Despair Bear and didn’t. )
-He refused to celebrate her leaving for New York in the SDCC. 
Let me just address all of these.
Adrien, when witnessing Chloe’s cruelty, tries to talk her down. Usually doing or saying petty things that get people super tilted. (Making fun of people, calling people names, the typical school ground bullying we have seen and experienced as kids.) However, in Despair Bear was when Chloe went to far. She called the fire department so she wouldn’t get her hands or Chenal pants dirty. Then, tried to blame it on Marinette and proceeded to let the principal punish everyone in the school detention except for herself by pulling the “my father, the mayor, card.” THEN told Rose to sweep somewhere else while Chloe just sits on a park bench on her phone. Admits she called the fire department TO ADRIEN and justifies herself by comparing getting dirty making cookies with getting dirty cleaning the school. 
So yes, I can see why Adrien wanted to cut Chloe off in that instance because of her treating her fellows students like they are servants. 
Now of course we see in the rest of the episode that Chloe tries to make up for what she has done to be friends with Adrien again. Then we get to the end of the episode. We see redemption for Chloe. Keep in mind that Adrien and Chat Noir share the same frame of reference (same experiences, memories, etc) and Ladybug and Marinette share the same frame of reference. We, the audience see Chloe help LB and CN in defeating Despair Bear. CN, after being woken up from his possession, hears LB call Chloe, someone LB usually despises, a “sidekick” with a smile. Ladybug, Adrien/Chat Noir’s Love interest, says thank you to Chloe and that it was really nice of her to help. Chat Noir sees this and smiles before they gotta go. 
ADRIEN THEN SAYS HIMSELF THAT SHE IS CAPABLE OF BEING NICER TO EVERYONE.
Let me just say this a bit louder so the people in the back can hear. 
ADRIEN SAID “YOU’VE PROVEN YOU CAN BE NICER TO EVERYONE”
Yes, she does go back to being mean Chloe. But, SHE IS MAKING FUN OF MACAROONS. WHAT KIND OF CRUEL WORLD IS THIS? CHLOE IS MAKING FUN OF MACAROONS. Which, as previously mentioned, is just her being petty again. 
NOW LET’S TALK ABOUT SDCC PANEL AND WHY I SYMPATHIZED WITH ADRIEN RIGHT OFF THE BAT.
If you have not watched this part of the panel here is the link. The script begins at 23:07. 
Chloe was being petty again and saying she knows ladybug and had an interview with her. We know that Chloe cosplays as ladybug from the first season. Ladybug being, really, the only good female role model in her life. Chloe is upset because Marinette somehow got the students to “gang up on her.” Keep in mind though we don’t know what happened prior to this scene. 
Anyway, everyone, excited for Chloe leaving town, Adrien is more… confused. You see, what happened in class was literally just Chloe being Chloe again. Just her being petty acting like she’s so great when she’s not. Everyone, in the school is celebrating a classmate leaving. Now, Adrien, someone who has been friends with Chloe since they were kids, someone who knows her home life, someone who was always there for him is hurt by this. Why?
If everyone in your high school was celebrating your childhood friend leaving because they were leaving would that not make you upset? 
They called Chloe Useless. Even though she has done her best to help out LB and CN on their missions.  Even though Chloe was there for Adrien when he wasn’t allowed out as a kid. The friend that gave Adrien some form of freedom from the cage of his home. Adrien has every right to feel like she should not be leaving this school angry. 
Adrien has a right to be upset. He should be allowed to voice the fact that he is upset because everyone in the school is only thinking about themselves and what Chloe did to them. Not WHY she does what she does. Not where her behavior originated from. In many ways, they are being selfish. 
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Oh my oblivious boi
STAHP
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i’m crying thomas astruc just confirmed that adrien is still being an oblivious little airhead and doesn’t know that marinette likes him 😭 this show is killing me lol
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