Multifandom writer
Hi <3! Send an ask whenever I'll answer when I see it! Requests are always open, too, but I only really answer when between fics or occassionally for holidays. My account is technically NSFW but not in the smutty way, I just like angst. Currently hyperfixating on the Batfam and Miraculous Ladybug. Use whatever pronouns for me I don't really have a preference... alright, I think that's everything.
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 9 hours ago
Hey! Loving the stalker X stalker fic. I'm a sucker for Tim X Mari fics where they're both just adorable smartasses. I can't wait for the next update.
In the mean time help a girl out, I'd love to know if you got any good maribat fic recommendations?
I'm glad you like it <3 It's mostly just all my current interests rolled into a fic so it's always nice to know other people enjoy it too
As for maribat fic recs I only have a few unfortunately and most of them are pretty common cries in I have no time to read
The Great Ikea Game by @icedaquarius31
Tiny Tim by LeoLeonte (my beloved)
Seabourne Burnouts by @itawonka-creates
I Would Like One Family Please by Celestial_Void_the_3rd
Also, have Another One?! because I love myself and that fic so much. First chapter is skippable it's mostly just setup
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 14 hours ago
Stalker X Stalker, Part 4
Perma tag: @nathleigh
Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever
Marinette almost missed Hawkmoth. Sure, she ended up extremely emotionally repressed, but hey! At least her opponent was stupid, at least she never had to fear losing.
But, yeah, that was why she didn’t notice the fact that chloroform was on the floor. That was way too smart for a villain, in her opinion. Wasn’t Joker supposed to be insane or something? Why wasn’t he completely stupid like Hawkmoth had been?
Those were her last thoughts before her vision blacked out.
She blinked her eyes open one time while she was being transported, but… it wasn’t enough. Her head pounded, her limbs felt like lead. She tried to pull one of her arms away from the five goons carrying her around -- she giggled at how much effort they were going through to keep a half-conscious person down -- but it was too weak to even break their grip. She wasn’t going to be getting out of the situation anytime soon.
She rested her head back against the chest of whoever was carrying her head.
Her eyes fluttered shut without her permission.
It took a while for her to be able to open her eyes again, and when she did she was almost tempted to close them. She was tied up with Red Robin, hanging upside down over a vat of acid. Decidedly not a good situation to be in. Maybe she could ignore it for a little longer…?
She buried her face in the neck of Red Robin’s suit, using the cool material as a kind of cold pack to try and soothe her pounding headache.
… wait... Red Robin!
She had a bit of protection because of her mask covering her mouth and nose and miraculous immune system, but he was a human and both his mouth and nose were uncovered! Shit!
Marinette pulled back as much as she could to check his face and see if he was okay and then cursed the domino mask blocking his eyes from her view. What she could see wasn’t good, though: the skin of his face had broken out into hives where he had come into contact with the chloroform. Ouch.
She tried just poking the good parts of his face with her nose to get him to wake up, but clearly that wasn’t working. Alright, new plan.
“Red Robin?” She whispered.
“Red Robin Red Robin Red Red Red Red Red…”
She was pretty sure she was doing this annoying thing right. She didn’t have siblings, how could she know?
Wait wait wait, what was that one thing that his siblings always said to him?
“Reeeeed Robin, yum~.”
Not even that got a response? Damn, he must really be out of it.
Time for drastic measures, then.
She tipped her head back as far back as it could go and then slammed her forehead against his. This evoked a lot of swearing from both parties. Apparently, headbutting people doesn’t help headaches.
When her head stopped ringing as loudly, she peeked her eyes open. “Sorry, checking to see if you were alive.”
He gave about as much of a nod as he could. “It’s… I understand why you had to do it.”
She gave a tentative smile. “Right. Still, sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, then glanced down to see what they were working with. He bit his lip anxiously. “Ah, that’s not good,” he said after a few moments of consideration.
She rolled her eyes because, yeah, obviously. She didn’t say that aloud, it wasn’t productive, so she said: “I’m going to squirm. See if you can free your arms a little?”
“Do you think I have some kind of gadget in my gloves for every situation?”
“Don’t you?”
He hesitated. “I mean… yes, I do have something that could help us out of the ropes, but we are kinda over acid right now. How fast is your reaction time?”
She tipped her head from side to side with an awkward smile. “Not great.”
“Then maybe we should just wait for backup --.”
“Do you think they’ll get here before Joker does?”
“... you’re right. Start squirming --.”
“Wow, you two hate me that much? I’m hurt,” a voice cooed.
Marinette jumped out of her skin. She craned her neck to glare at Joker for scaring her…
And immediately regretted it. Why was his face not attached to his skull properly? Did he cut his own face off? Who even does that? Ew.
Red Robin scowled at him. “I can’t say we were all glad to hear you were out.”
“Red Robin...” she warned.
“Wow, not even old Batsy was happy to hear the news?”
“Nope. Didn’t say anything, actually.”
Joker’s smile wavered. “He didn’t?”
“Um, Red,” she tried again.
“Nothing,” he confirmed. “Not. A. Word.”
Joker didn’t seem to know what to do about this information. Batman wasn’t even paying attention to him? What was the point, then?
Marinette was also concerned about what was going on, but for a completely different reason. She leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Why are we trying to anger the psychopath?”
He gave as much of a shrug as he could while tied up. “If he’s talking he’s not trying to kill us.”
“And what if he gets angry enough to kill us?”
“He probably won’t.”
She winced. “Okay, I really don’t like your use of ‘probably’ there --.”
With both of their hands forced behind their backs, the only comfort he could really give was pressing his good cheek to hers. It shouldn’t have worked, but apparently life or death situations mess with your emotions.
“Just… trust me?” He pleaded quietly.
She sucked in a deep breath before turning to glare at Joker, who was still having a crisis over the fact that Batman didn’t care as much as he did. Well, she guessed that she had to take out her headache on someone. Might as well be the bitch in ugly clown makeup.
“You know, I don’t even understand why people are scared of you.”
Joker frowned and turned to look at her. “What?”
“I mean, I get why Poison Ivy is feared, I get why Mr. Freeze is feared… I even get Penguin and Riddler since they both have a high enough intellect to make up for their lack of powers… but you’re just… some guy.”
Joker gave her a cold look. “I could kill you.”
“So could a particularly determined cow, you’re not special.”
Red Robin snickered. She smiled, a little proud of herself for making him laugh.
Their grins were wiped off their faces when the rope holding them up dropped.
It caught them again dangerously close to the acid. Red Robin was a few centimeters from getting a new haircut. Marinette wondered, morbidly, whether her suit would go with her if she disintegrated.
“Not going to kill us, huh?”
“... well, I did say probably,” he mumbled, his face a little red.
She swallowed thickly. “If we live, I’m going to kill you.”
“Fair. Want to mess with him if he’s going to kill us anyways?”
“... yes.” She whipped around to glare at Joker again. “I mean, honestly, why aren’t you dead yet?”
“We don’t kill,” supplied Red Robin.
She grinned. “Sure, and I get that. I’m also not fond of murder... but is every citizen in Gotham just agreeing to not kill him? Does Batman spend all his time making sure that civilians don’t do it? Why hasn’t anyone seen him on the street and just tried to run him over?”
“... I mean, Robin hit him with the Batmobile once.”
“See?” She grinned. “And don’t even get me started on Punchline and your goons, Joker. How did you find so many people loyal to you?”
“I love him!” Said Punchline defensively.
“... sweetie, if you want a pasty white guy with green hair just watch 2016 Jacksepticeye.”
Red Robin nodded. “At least he’s kind of funny sometimes.”
“If you need the guy to be evil, how about the evil alter ego he made… what was he called?”
“Ha, you’re a fucking nerd,” Marinette teased.
Red Robin blushed (or maybe that was just the blood slowly rushing to their heads from being upside down for so long) and pointedly ignored her: “Look up Antisepticeye. It’ll probably be healthier for you.”
Punchline didn’t have a retort for that. Marinette was deciding that was because she was considering it, not because she probably didn’t know who Jack/Antisepticeye was.
She pushed on: “And, hey, you goons don’t have to give Punchline over there the glory. Stab your boss. C’mon, it’ll be cool. Doubt he’s paying you more than whatever bounty is on his head, anyways.”
“If you’re going to rally henchmen maybe you shouldn’t call them ‘goons’,” suggested Red Robin.
She pouted. “But ‘goons’ sounds cuter.”
He opened his mouth to retort but she’d never know what he was going to say because, at that moment, Signal and Robin came busting in through the skylight.
Tim relaxed when he heard the glass shatter. Whether Marientte’s henchmen rallying had somehow worked or their backup had come, it at least meant that Joker and Punchline were distracted from wanting to murder them.
He struggled to crane his neck to see what was going on.
Oh. Damn. Damian was back from his angsting on the weird murder island? And he was here? Nevermind, he’d prefer Joker and Punchline. Damian was never going to let him live this down.
Speaking of Damian, a weight jumped onto their ropes and the three vigilantes became a pendulum. Tim grit his teeth tightly and Marinette let loose a long string of swears as their headaches worsened.
But, apparently, the world wasn’t done with them. Damian sliced the line at the highest point and they went flying across the room. Tim was the unlucky one on the bottom when they hit the ground, which he doubted was an accident.
Damian left them to deal with things on their own from there. Least he could have done was cut them free with his katana, but Tim supposed that was too much to wish for from the youngest brother.
He rested his head back against the cool floor for a second. He could feel Marinette stretch across his shoulder to do the same. They sighed in relief. This was the closest they had come to treating their headaches and wow was it nice.
But, frankly, resting in the middle of a fight isn’t a great idea. So, they wriggled around on the floor until he was able to flick open the tiny knife in the index finger of his gloves and cut the rope binding them without, y’know, cutting one of them instead.
Freedom! What did they do with this newfound freedom, you may ask? Scratch their heads. Turns out chloroform sucks for many reasons and one of those is that it’s a major skin irritant.
He also vomited. Thank god they’d been freed. He’d been only a few seconds away from throwing up on Marinette. He felt especially bad about that when she peeled a hand from her itching to hold his hair away from his face.
The fight was over soon enough. Duke and Damian came over to watch the two of them attempting to peel their skin off layer by layer.
“Pathetic,” chided Damian.
“Don’t be a dick --.” Marinette cut herself off, her hand flying to her mouth. “I swore in front of a baby.”
“I’m twelve!”
“Exactly: a baby.” She reached out and cupped a very affronted Damian’s face in her hands. “Look, you still have baby fat! You shouldn’t be fighting crime!”
Tim couldn’t tell if she was messing with Damian for being rude to them or if she genuinely saw him as a little kid. He wasn’t going to correct her. She’d remember he was a gremlin soon enough.
Damian wrenched his face from her grip. “If I hadn’t come you two would have been burned in acid.”
“Please, we all know Signal probably could have dealt with this entirely on his own,” Marinette waved him off.
Duke rested a hand over his heart like he was touched.
Tim rolled his eyes and pulled Marinette to him, resting his head on top of hers lazily. “We should get a checkup at the cave. Chloroform has… not nice effects and we both rolled around in it a little while fighting.”
Duke and Damian both winced, but Marinette didn’t seem all that concerned.
“I’ll be fine. My immune system is enhanced by --.”
Duke clapped his hands by her ears as loudly as he could. Neither Marinette nor Tim were particularly happy about it.
“Behold: a headache, one of the main symptoms of chloroform. Your face also has some red streaks, so don’t even try to deny that the chloroform is affecting you.”
“I take back my praise, I’ve decided I hate you,” she murmured, massaging her temples.
“I just remembered that I need the siren on my bike on to tell all the other bats we’ll need them at the cave...”
“Wait, no --.”
Marinette glared at Black Bat and Spoiler. The batboys had left the infirmary area for her own comfort and that was nice of them but she would really prefer if she hadn’t had to come at all.
Now she sat in some of Black Bat’s pajamas and one of Spoiler’s spare masks as they inspected her.
Her nose scrunched as Black Bat drew blood from her arm.
“This is dumb. I don’t need this.”
“We’ve been told. Humor us?” Spoiler said and, though Marinette couldn’t see her face from where she was, she knew she was rolling her eyes.
“I would if you were actually funny.”
“I think we can definitely put her down for irritability,” commented Spoiler.
Black Bat nodded and dutifully wrote it down. Traitor.
The cool metal of a stethoscope was pressed to her back and she cringed.
“Deep breaths.”
Marinette complied, however reluctantly. Might as well get all this bullshit over with as soon as possible.
… she was regretting that decision, now, though.
She gave Batman a cold look. “You can’t keep me here.”
“You need to stay so we can monitor your state overnight. You could have asphyxiated.”
“But we didn’t,” complained Red Robin, who looked just as annoyed about this as she was.
“We have lives, B,” she said.
“You weren’t going to do anything other than patrols tonight, don’t act like I’m tearing you away from something important.”
“The protection of the city is important,” Red argued.
“Neither of you would be much help tonight in the state you’re in, anyways.”
Red Robin stuck his lower lip out in a pout. Marinette gave her best puppy-dog eyes.
Batman wasn’t moved. “If you need something, Agent A will provide it.”
She blinked, eyes returning to normal in her confusion. “Who --?”
He disappeared into the shadows before she could finish the conversation, something she was, unfortunately, getting used to.
Marinette scowled at where he had last been.
Maybe she should have expected this, maybe if she had been less out of it she would have. They had given her pajamas when she’d had clothes and insisted on cleaning her old ones ‘for chloroform’. The checkup might have been a genuine checkup on her state, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered what the results were. She was always going to end up staying the night in the cold, dingy cave filled with bats.
She sighed and laid back against the stone floors. She heard Red Robin groan and looked up to see he had been locked out of the Batcomputer for the night. He leaned back in his chair and mumbled curses.
She giggled at his distress and, despite himself, a tiny grin poked at his lips.
“Want to race to see who can hack into it first?” She suggested.
He raised an eyebrow at her under his domino. “Think you can win?”
“Considering I don’t know that much about hacking, I’m going to say probably not.”
A wide smile spread across his face, now, and he waved her over. She took a seat on the desk beside the keyboard and he started teaching her everything.
Most of what he said, while technically heard, wasn’t exactly understood. She couldn’t concentrate. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but his vigilante suit and she decided that that was a crime because he looked so cute in the Batman-themed pajamas. Furthermore, the way his long hair was pushed back by a headband to keep it out of the green paste spread over his face to alleviate the chloroform’s rash reminded her of a spa day in all those movies.
And then there was the smile. It made her heart flutter in her chest because she was so used to his grins but this was just a genuine smile. He looked so passionate about the intricacies of cyber crime. She was almost sad about the domino hiding his eyes because she wanted to see the way they lit up while he explained different ways viruses could be accidentally downloaded to devices.
Basically, she was a mess for this random cute guy she worked with. She had never seen him so casual and at ease and it felt far more intimate than it maybe should.
She rested her head on her hand, nodding along as he talked about data encryption versus decoding.
Well, maybe a forced sleepover in the Batcave wouldn’t be so bad...
Tim was suffering a lot more than he would ever admit, and only a small part of it was due to chloroform.
He was going to be having a sleepover with one of his idols and he was going to be spending a large amount of the time trying not to throw up. And she could totally tell, too, why else would she be watching him so intensely? Someone kill him, please. He was so glad he had a secret identity because he didn’t know how he would manage if she thought Tim Drake-Wayne was a loser.
Granted, she was going to think Red Robin was a loser... but at least he had a second chance as Tim.
He rested his chin on the back of his chair. He had hacked into the Batcomputer already but it was a relatively dull night out on patrols and he wasn’t eager to be yelled at for showing Marinette some files on top of already hacking into them when he wasn’t supposed to.
“Wanna do something?”
She grinned. “Is there anything to do here other than train?”
“... nothing approved.”
She tipped her head to the side. “And of the things that aren’t approved?”
He matched her grin. “Well…”
And that was how he ended up setting up a movie projector in the cave so they could watch Groundhog Day. Marinette had taken to making them a pillow fort.
Duke stumbled down the steps, half awake, and raised his eyebrows at them from behind his domino. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that they had made and took a long sip before sending the two of them a wary look. “Do I want to know?”
Marinette didn’t look up from her and Tikki’s base construction. “Dunno. Do you want to watch Groundhog Day with us?”
He frowned. “Isn’t that the one where that guy in a time loop stalks his co-worker until he knows enough to make her fall in love with him?”
“Just say you don’t like romcoms and go,” Marinette irritably.
“I’m fine with romcoms, it’s just… a little messed up that he uses the knowledge he gets from being in a time loop to ensure she falls for him?”
“It’s a story about self-improvement,” Tim said, sending his brother a glare. “He grows as a person until he is worthy of her love.”
“Him learning about her is part of his arc. He starts off selfish and he ends it with a deeper appreciation for other people,” agreed Marinette.
Duke held his free hand up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Enjoy your stalker movie.”
“It’s not a --,” Tim tried to argue, but Duke was already heading back upstairs.
He huffed a little and finished setting up the computer and projector, then took a seat in the pillow fort. She poured each of them a cup of coffee, put a straw in hers to maintain her identity, and then took a seat beside him.
He took it from her with a bright smile and turned on the movie.
She rested her head on his shoulder as the happy-go-lucky music started up.
Unfortunately for them, they didn’t manage to stay awake for all that long. Duke had drugged the coffee pot.
Marinette shifted awake a while later and promptly decided that being awake sucked.
Nothing about her current situation sucked, of course. At some point during the night they had fallen asleep and now she was laying half on top of Red Robin, clinging to him like a koala. He didn’t seem all that upset about it, though, with his arm wrapped around her and his face buried in her hair.
Unfortunately, the time on the bottom right of the Batcomputer’s screen told her she didn’t have much time to enjoy it.
She started the slow process of extracting herself from him. Getting the arm off of herself was easy, getting his face away from her head was much harder (this wasn’t helped by the fact that the paste on his face had stuck to her hair).
There was one scare where she thought he was going to wake up. She pushed herself off of his chest and he took a long breath in. Marinette froze, watching his lips tighten… and then he turned over in his sleep.
Oops, apparently she’d been suffocating him a little in her sleep. Sorry, Red.
Well, at least she was free now.
She slipped out of the pillow fort and glanced at the time again.
Even less time to do what she needed. Because that’s how time works.
She sighed and called Tikki over with a tiny wave of her hand, walking over the edge of the railing. She looked down at the abyss that stretched many feet below.
Tikki couldn’t have looked more disapproving if she tried.
“It’s just a little insurance,” Marinette signed.
This didn’t make Tikki any less upset with her, but she hadn’t really expected it to. She signed for her transformation. She tied herself to the railing with her yoyo as a precaution and then hooked her legs around the railing.
And down she went.
She flexed at an awkward angle, flashlight in her mouth, and stuck a tracker to the bottom of the platform.
And, really, she wasn’t intending on using it. Like she said, it was just insurance. They had drawn blood from her earlier and she knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary for chloroform inhalation. The only reason that made sense for that was that they wanted to check and see if she had inhaled some but they already knew that so… what did they want with her blood?
She was willing to bet it had something to do with her secret identity. And, hey, she didn’t particularly care if they knew her identity, she trusted them, but if it ever got out because of them revealing then who the bats were would be 1) revenge and 2) a good distraction.
“Hey --?”
Thank the kwamis she had tied herself to the railing because she’d been surprised enough to let go of the platform.
“Shit, sorry!” Said Red Robin.
She pulled herself back up onto the platform with his help and then collapsed on the cool stone. She spat the flashlight from her mouth. “Fuuuuuuck, don’t do that again, please.”
“Sorry,” he said again. Then he glanced back at where she had been and, momentarily, his lips pulled into a frown. “I gotta ask: what were you doing?”
“Oh, I wanted to see if there was anything down there or if it was just for The Aesthetic.”
“Why not just use your yoyo to go down?”
She shuddered. “The flashlight barely did anything. Would you want to go down into that darkness with no clue even how far down it goes?”
He seemed to accept the answer. “It’s an old iron mine. No one uses it anymore, though.”
She nodded her understanding.
She pushed herself back up to a sitting position and looked at him.
“The bats don’t get back for a while and we’re still on lockdown, so… want to do something?”
Damian was the first one to get home. Apparently he had broken a leg on patrol. This was fine (well, maybe he shouldn’t have been driving himself, but whatever).
What was not fine was that he had promptly decided to be an asshole.
Tim and Marinette had been playing Minecraft on the Batcomputer and, like all younger brothers, Damian asked to play.
And, like all older brothers, Tim barely looked up from his controller to tell him: “No.”
Damian looked to be on the verge of a meltdown.
Marinette sighed and sent Tim a tired look. “Red, don’t be mean. He’s just a kid. There’s more controllers, we can just give him one.”
“But…” He started. Damian was a terrible partner to play Minecraft with because he never helped out with anything except for the farm.
However, Marinette was looking at him expectantly. Tim bit his lip, considering.
Damian looked between the two of them and a wicked grin spread across his face and oh no.
Damian took a seat next to Marinette and gave her puppy-dog eyes (a real feat, considering the fact that he was wearing a domino and therefore his eyes were invisible). “Miss Ladybug, can’t you please make him let me play?”
Marinette gave Tim a tired look. “Red, c’mon, just for a bit.”
Damian smirked a little but, by the time Marinette turned back around, he had schooled his face back into a pout.
She handed him her controller. “You can have mine. I’ll find another for myself.”
The two watched her leave and Tim sent his younger brother a glare. “I can’t believe you would embarrass yourself this much just to play a game.”
“Anything to annoy you, ‘big bro’.”
He opened his mouth to retort, but then Marinette came back and all he could do was send him a glare behind her back.
Damian retaliated by sitting himself on Marinette’s lap. She looked down, amusement making her eyes crinkle, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. Damian smirked and stuck his tongue out at Tim.
That little shit.
And it continued on for hours while the three of them waited for the rest of the bats to come back. Damian would cling to Marinette in some way and he would become the bad guy for glaring at a child. He was seriously considering breaking the No Killing Rule for this kid.
Finally, though, people started coming back and apparently Damian thought it too embarrassing to do such a thing in front of more than just the person he was trying to annoy because he clambered off her lap to play just a little bit away.
Bruce was the last one to come in and he looked at his kids with the patented Batdad Glare because they had managed to drag Steph into playing with them (without much effort) and Cass into watching (with much more effort). Which meant that there were currently five family disappointments. Yay them.
Tim smiled innocently. “What? We got bored. Maybe you should let us out so this doesn’t happen again.”
“I’m keeping you here for your own safety.”
Marinette and Tim both groaned.
“I have work to do.”
“Me, too.”
Bruce didn’t relent because he was a stubborn asshole.
But that was fine. They really hadn’t expected them to. Tim glanced at Marinette and she twirled her index finger against her flat palm, the sign for ‘start’.
One flash and smoke bomb later, the two of them were running as fast as they could to his bike. He grinned as he helped his giggling friend get on and hopped up himself. Arms wrapped around him tightly and her face buried in his back. They tore out of the cave, giggling all the while.
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Stalker X Stalker, Part 3
Perma tag: @nathleigh​
Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades​ @jayjayspixiepop​ @blueslushgueen​ @fan-written​ @seraphichana​
Jfc why am I so wordy. This was supposed to be a oneshot! A!! Oneshot!!!
Listen, Marinette would never break into the Wayne Enterprises building. That was immoral and bad and probably illegal (but she didn’t know American law so don’t quote her on that).
But… if she were to break in... then this is how it would go:
She hooked her yoyo around her waist and then looked over the side of the building. Many, many stories below she could see the last few stragglers on their way home or to work between henchmen shifts. They were all looking anxiously from side to side, checking alleyways before they passed them or eyeing the people that walked nearby. None of them would ever look up.
She closed her eyes, spinning on her heel.
Then, she was weightless.
One second, two seconds, three, four…
She opened her eyes and the line slowed to a stop at her will. She squinted through the dark room and managed to make out the nameplate on the desk. Tim Drake-Wayne. She smiled, excited that she’d managed to time her jump right, and then forced herself to concentrate.
She pulled a laser cutter from her pocket and pointed it at the window, turning it on. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work. She scoffed.
Stupid rich people and their stupid rich people windows.
She pocketed it and knocked her fist against the glass. Nothing.
She examined the window for a bit before scaling the wall to the edge. If she was right about this then it was unbreakable glass.
Well, she supposed anything was unbreakable if you don’t know how to break it.
She jumped and slammed into the corner of the window, where the glass wasn’t designed to bend and flex, and it shattered beneath her. A grin stretched across her face. She slipped through the tiny hole she’d made and untied herself from her yoyo.
The room was dark. Shocker. She hadn’t turned on the light.
But first… she looked around for cameras. She found two. Marinette hummed tunelessly as she stole the tape from Tim’s desk and taped over it. She didn’t want to damage his office if he turned out to be a good person.
She glanced back at the broken window. She didn’t want to damage it too much, at least.
After the cameras were effectively useless, she decided to get to work. Who knows how long it would take for someone to come up and check. She needed to be in and out as fast as possible.
She flicked on the light and started going through files. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she was sure she’d know it when she saw it.
Except… Tim seemed to be a genuinely nice guy? He kept track of everything, and everything was good? Almost ungodly amounts of money donated to charities, working long hours to take some of the burden off of his employees, good benefits for workers, Wayne Enterprises even sponsored the Gotham vigilantes…
She didn’t trust it. This guy was a billionaire, you don’t become one of those by being a good person.
But the more searching she did the more she found herself doubting that. Everything was accounted for and, sure, he and his family had high salaries but so did everyone else at the company…
She sat in his way-too-comfy office chair, head resting back against it as she tried to think. What to do, what to do, what to do…
She planted a (lady)bug in his flower pot. There was probably something she was missing. He probably wouldn’t keep files of the bad things he did, but he likely wouldn’t censor his words when he thought he was alone.
She gave one last glance over the room before shaking her head and slipping back outside.
Listen, Tim knew that she had planted a bug. He wasn’t raised by Batman for nothing. The moment he found out his office was broken into without anything getting stolen it was the first thing he looked for.
And he found it on one of the petals of his blue violet. He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to it to check and see if it had a camera or if it was just auditory, only to stop when he realized it was red with black spots.
He bit his lip to make sure he didn’t think aloud and then leaned forward again.
Yep. Marinette.
He tried to objectively take in the facts of the case.
She hadn’t damaged the office any more than was necessary to get in and out, which meant it was probably still her and she wasn’t being mind controlled… but that just made things more confusing. Why would she feel the need to break into the office of someone she had met once?
Okay… the files were out of place. She’d been looking for something. She hadn’t taken anything, though, so maybe she didn’t find it? Or maybe she took a photo with her phone, he’d need to check that out.
And then there was the bug. He squinted at it. She hadn’t made an effort to hide the fact that it was hers. She didn’t expect him to recognize it for what it is, or maybe she didn’t expect him to find it at all.  Whatever the reason, she clearly didn’t know he was Red Robin.
Which meant that he should leave the bug there. A normal person wouldn’t notice it, and therefore neither should he. And, really, he didn’t have anything to hide.
… except for the whole ‘I’m a Bat’ thing. He would have to tell his family. Maybe he’d just make a sign for whoever came in first. He scribbled the words ‘Keep an ear out for the Muffin Man’ on a bit of paper. To the uninitiated it would just look like one of his sleep-deprived ramblings making its way to paper but it was really a code. A pun -- courtesy of one Dick Grayson -- on Killer Moth’s real name, Drury Walker, to say that there was a ‘bug’ of some sort.
There. Plan thought out, crisis more or less averted for now. Time to rest. He fell back in his chair and rested an arm over his eyes.
… yeah, that was enough rest. He was pretty sure he got a whole ten seconds in there. It was practically a record!
He groaned lightly as he rolled around on his chair gathering things he would need for work. He knew he was going to be kicked out of his office so people could fix his window so it was best to get out of their way before they’d even arrived.
He heard a knock on his door and glanced up to see that the knock was apparently useless because the person had already come inside.
Steph opened her mouth, only to stop when he held up the paper. She read it and a frown momentarily passed over her face before she pulled her normal smile back. “Hey, Timmy, I’m guessing you already know we gotta get you outta here for now?”
“Yeah. Let me just scan everything I haven’t already downloaded onto my computer and then I’ll be out of everyone’s hair.”
“Or, and hear me out here, this is a sign from God that you need to take a break.”
“Yeah, yeah, totally. You wanted that report tomorrow, right?”
“… a sign from God that you need to take a break from everything except for my thing.”
He rolled his eyes and wheeled his chair back to his desk. “Thought so. I’ll take a break when I’m no longer needed.”
And, if Tim could help it, that would never happen.
But that was fine. He’d been doing it for this long, after all.
She tipped her head to the side. “Why’re you scanning them, anyways? Just take them to your new office.”
“I can’t work in a different office, Steph, it’s just not right. I’d be cheating on my normal desk chair!” He joked.
She was distinctly unamused.
He cleared his throat and looked away, tugging at his collar awkwardly. “I’ll be off-site. I really can’t work in an empty office and I don’t want to intrude on someone, so…” He shrugged. “I’m going to find somewhere to be. I’ll be close, though, in case something happens.”
She leaned against the printer, resting an arm over the top of it. It would have seemed casual if she wasn’t completely blocking his ability to scan the documents. “No cafes.”
“Steph --,” he started to complain, but he could already tell from the look on her face that she wasn’t going to give up on this one. He sighed. “No cafes,” he promised.
And, hey, he was a man of his word. He didn’t visit any cafes. Instead, he dropped by the nearest convenience store and bought as many energy drinks as the cashier would allow him. And, considering it was Gotham, the cashier didn’t care about him beyond ‘nah, he doesn’t look like he’d pull a gun’. He got out of the convenience store with half a fridge of miscellaneous energy drinks stuffed in a duffel bag.
Well, he had spited his darling sister, now what?
He settled for making his way over to Marinette’s house. He had said no cafes but he needed wifi from somewhere in order to do his work. Not to mention he still needed to go through her camera roll to see if she had taken pictures of anything at Wayne Enterprises… which was also kind of his work, considering he had taken up most intel gathering since Babs had started working more with the Birds of Prey.
He trekked the familiar path up to the roof of the building opposite Marinette’s. Tim jumped from the dumpster up to the fire escape and started up.
… only to come face to face with an old lady sitting at her window. Why would she do that when the only thing there was to look at from where she was is the wall of the next building, he had no clue, but he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about that when she had spotted him climbing the fire escape.
Think of an excuse!
“Don’t mind me. I’m just, uh, robbing the person above you.”
He fought the urge to facepalm. Instead, he just sent her an awkward smile.
She narrowed her eyes at him before looking up and shaking her head. “Leave a note for them telling them that their walls aren’t as thick as they think they are and I won’t say anything.”
He flashed finger guns. “Gotcha. You should leave the window for plausible deniability.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Gotta love Gotham sometimes.
He slipped up to the next floor and stopped for a few seconds to write the old woman’s warning on a notepad and stick it to the window. He got to the roof without any more incidents and set up shop on the concrete.
Man, he really needed to start bringing up blankets or something. Concrete is actually kind of uncomfortable.
Whatever, he thought, as he leaned over the rooftop barrier to check on Marinette. She was working in the window as usual.
He smiled at the now-familiar sight and pulled out his laptop. After a few guesses -- and maybe the help of a computer program he had made solely to connect to other people’s wifi -- he managed to get her password (‘2444’).
Right, quickest things first, he needed to get access to her camera roll.
He pulled out his phone and, after a few moments’ consideration, sent her a picture of a cat.
She looked over at her phone and picked it up. He saw her face darken when he saw he had sent a picture and she rolled her eyes as she opened it, only to brighten up when she saw what it was. She brought her free hand to her mouth as a smile lit up her face.
Then, strangely, she started looking out the window.
Tim ducked down to stay out of her view and didn’t dare to sit up again until she had sent her response a minute later.
Frenchie: look at him, there isnt a single thought behind those eyes
He grinned at the response, but that wasn’t really why he’d sent it. As expected, she saved the photo, which gave him an in. He hummed lightly as he scrolled through her most recent pictures, but all that was there was the typical aesthetic pictures associated with moving -- the plane ticket, her surrounded by boxes, etc -- that he assumed would go up on her official instagram sometime soon. Nothing from Wayne Enterprises.
He was relieved, obviously, but… now he had to wonder what exactly she’d been looking for and why.
Maybe he’d subtly ask her about it next time he saw her as Red Robin, whenever that may be.
For better or for worse, his chance came within the hour. He looked up from his work when he heard some beeping in his ear and pressed a hand to it.
Duke’s voice filtered through: “Joker and Punchline broke out of Arkham again.”
Tim groaned softly. “Have we got his location, at least?”
“Sort of. Some people on twitter have said they spotted him heading towards the docks.”
Ugh, why is it always the docks?
“Isn’t daytime vigilantism kind of your thing? Why should we help?” Marinette asked, though Tim could see her getting up.
“It is, but I’ve gotta confirm everything else is alright at Arkham. It wouldn’t be the first fakeout.”
“Alright, fine. I’m closeby, anyways.”
“I am, too,” Tim added. “We can do it together.”
He watched Marinette’s shoulders relax just slightly. Then she turned, checked her window lock, closed the blinds, and she was gone from view.
He arrived only a few minutes after her (wow was he jealous of her ability to change into her suit in a flash of light) and grinned as he crouched down beside her at the crate. She had her suit zipped up so he couldn’t see her face, but she did tip her head slightly towards him in recognition that he was there. And that was all he got…
Until Tim cracked open a spare energy drink and held it out for her.
She flinched slightly at the sudden sound and turned to face him fully, only to stop short when she saw the drink can in his hands. She pulled her zipper down, flashing a grin.
“A man after my own heart,” she joked.
His heart did not skip a beat right then, thank you very much.
He chuckled and shook his head, peeking around the crate so she could drink without worrying about her identity. “Sure, sure. Did you see either of them?”
“No, but I saw some goons in creepy masks head into that building on the end.”
He nodded slowly. “Think it’s a trap?”
“Probably. It was too easy,” she said.
He heard the can crumple in her hand and decided that probably meant she was done. He moved back behind the crate.
“We should try going ahead and getting intel. We don’t know too much about their plan or anything and at least Signal should be on his way in case something goes wrong.”
He pressed a hand to one of his gloves and she leaned in close to see the tiny screen he was typing on. He just needed to transmit their locations to Duke in case something went wrong, which only needed a few seconds and a passable signal, but he took a little longer than normal so she could gape at the device.
Once he was sure it was working he closed the compartment and waved her along.
They traced the perimeter. Bulletproof windows. There were quite a few guards at the front, but none in the back.
“Trap,” she muttered.
“... yeah,” he agreed quietly. But, because they didn’t have many better options at the moment, they found themselves picking the lock on the backdoor.
She pressed her ear to the door, looking more and more concerned as time went by. Finally, with a quiet click, he was able to try the knob. It turned silently, which stressed him out even more.
He glanced at her. “Are we good?”
“I don’t… hear anyone,” she murmured, though she seemed troubled by that.
Fair enough. He was more than a little troubled by how easy it was himself.
He swung the door open.
A somewhat familiar sweet smell met their noses and he frowned. Tim was pretty sure this wasn’t a candy factory. Maybe someone had managed to get Joker/Punchline mixed up with Sweet Tooth? Somehow?
He leaned more into the room to check for people. There were a lot of crates strewn about at random that were obstructing their view, but no one was popping out which wasn’t normal goon behavior, so...
No ambush?
He shuffled uncomfortably and started forward to try and get some of the nervous energy out, only to have a hand thrust in his chest. She pointed down with her free hand to the wet floors. It was coated in water and he suddenly had a theory about why the room smelled so weirdly sweet.
She brought up her hands and signed the words: “To give a warning about intruders?”
He quickly got over her knowing sign language or wondering how she knew that he knew it to sign back his answer: “Probably.”
They took in the room, wondering how they could get across it without alerting anyone. They were pretty sure no one was there, likely trusting that they would find no silent way through the room… and that was a fair assumption. The walls were too weak for him to consider his grappling hook and, though there were crates around, the jumps between them were too large for humans to make.
Marinette’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m going to try a jump,” she signed to warn him.
He bit his lip and nodded. That was probably the best way in. If she missed then they would at least have a few seconds to prepare before someone came bursting in, if she didn’t then she might be able to find a new way in or even a way to drain the liquid.
She backed up a few steps for a running start, and then lept towards the nearest crates.
And she made it, managing to grab ahold of the far end of the crate and pull herself up to a more stable position.
But, once she was able to see over to the other side, she made a squeaking sound and let go, falling back in the water with a splash.
He tensed up, preparing for someone to jump out from behind the crate.
She groaned quietly and pushed herself to a sitting position. “Well, the cover's blown, there’s a guy in a creepy smiley mask unconscious over there but I don’t think anyone else is in the room. Not gonna say anything about the next rooms over.”
None of those words helped his growing headache but he, bravely, continued on nonetheless: “Great, can’t wait for that.”
She ran a hand down her face exhaustedly, then paused. She frowned and brought her arm to her nose. She sniffed the weird water. “Do you know what’s wrong with this?”
He shrugged. “Gotham tap water is almost always poisoned by someone or another.”
“Encouraging,” she said sarcastically.
He could only shrug again.
Tim stepped into the water and offered her a hand up.
She gave him a slight smile before taking his hand. The moment she was on her feet she switched the grip to a better one and started pulling him around to the other side of the crate.
“Just over here, come look.”
She led him over and, yep, that was an unconscious guy in a creepy smiley mask. The mask was broken, a long crack down the middle which honestly added to the creepy factor… which wasn’t necessary, thank you very much.
“Should we… help him?” He asked quietly.
She let go of Tim’s hand to check them. “Their pulse is faint, so… yeah. People might be coming and it wouldn’t be a good idea to fight around him.”
They both grabbed an arm and started to haul him up and out the door, only for the door on the other side of the room to burst open.
They cringed. Gotta love henchmen and their perfect timing.
They dropped the man and braced themselves to face their attackers.
Luckily, these ones’ masks weren’t broken and therefore were slightly less creepy. Unluckily, they weren’t unconscious.
He pulled his bo staff from his back and swung it at the nearest goon. The man sidestepped and pointed a gun at him.
Great. Amazing, even. He rolled to behind the nearest crate to avoid the gunfire.
But, hey, if they were shooting…
“THE CRATES ARE NONEXPLOSIVE,” he yelled, pushing his now damp hair from his face.
A crate nearby was grabbed with her yoyo and hurled at some people.
There was a cry of surprise and, suddenly, Tim found himself with less opponents. Whether they were shifting their focus to the new threat or taken out by it, he wasn’t yet sure, but he’d find out soon.
He hopped on top of the crate he’d been hiding behind and started a systematic takedown of everyone who dared to come near him.
A few moments later, was a crack and a terrified scream and he turned to check that Marinette was okay because the scream was pretty high pitched --.
Ah. Apparently Marinette had hit a goon hard enough in the face to crack their mask.
But, to the two vigilantes’ surprise, the goon turned and fled. Did it hurt that bad? Trying to protect his identity? He scratched his head, considering the odd response.
He didn’t get much time to think about it. A henchman punched Tim in the side of the head, maybe as vengeance for his friend, and he stumbled back, his brain rattling around in his skull.
He shook his head, which didn’t help the rattling, and started attacking the henchmen again.
But his movements were steadily slowing. He was dizzy. Why was he dizzy? He didn’t think he had gotten hit hard enough to warrant a concussion but that was all that he could think of to explain the dizziness and, oh, great, the growing nausea. Yep. Okay.
He swung his bo clumsily and hissed a curse when someone pulled it from his weakening grip.
A hand grabbed his hair -- a real bitch move -- and pushed him to the floor.
It was here, face pressed into the water so much that he had to strain his neck so he wouldn’t drown, that it clicked. Headache. Itchy skin. Dizziness. Nausea.
The unconscious man with a broken mask.
The man that had freaked out about his mask breaking. Running out of the room to get away from the smell.
The sweet smell.
It wasn’t a concussion and, even worse, this wasn’t water.
It was chloroform.
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Hi so everyone unfollow me and follow her because they’re super cool and helped me out a lot with a scene I’m writing
Tell me why my dumbass really considered buying and smelling chloroform for some writing
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@aespades I’m in love with u
Tell me why my dumbass really considered buying and smelling chloroform for some writing
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A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 57
I’m freeeeee
The cops pulled them off of Gabriel before they could kill him. Not that they were going to, of course, but they didn’t believe them when they said that. Who knows why. Definitely not that his arm was broken and his face was swollen to the point of being almost unrecognizable, that couldn’t be it.
They helped load the barely conscious Gabriel into the cop car and Alya slammed the door shut behind him with a showman's flourish.
The fireworks crackling overhead seemed to be celebrating the defeat of Hawkmoth. The holders were deciding to ignore the fact that it was New Years because defeating Gabriel Agreste was definitely more cool and important than the fact that they would all need to buy new calendars.
Done! Hawkmoth was done! Whoo!
So, why wasn’t the police car pulling away yet?
“What’s your father’s blood type?” Asked a policeman.
Ah, yeah, blood loss. That makes sense.
Adrien shrugged. “Heck if I know. Red, probably, but don’t quote me on that.”
“Oh, it’s definitely red,” said Marinette, examining the heel of her shoe.
“Red,” said Adrien with a nod to the officer.
The officer looked at them all for a moment in horrified silence before slowly turning away. As he should.
The four teenagers that had beaten Gabriel up waved him off with red-coated hands and smug grins. Adrien was too busy kicking out every rich person in the Gala to even give his father the ‘decency’ of seeing him off.
“Yeah, no, get out I literally don’t like any of you. You suck and I hope to never see you again. Except you, Kagami... come here, actually, I think you and Rena would be SO cute together --.”
Alya shoved him a little harder than was strictly necessary. “Ignore him, he’s just stupid.”
“C’mon! SHE’S gay, YOU’RE gay, you have so much in common!”
“I swear on the kwamis, Adrien...”
“You can’t be the fifth wheel FOREVER --.”
Nino grinned and threw his arm over Adrien’s shoulders. “Stop fighting. If she wants to die alone then she can.”
Alya scoffed, looking over to where Marinette and Chloe were flirting over a plate of finger foods. “A little help, guys?”
Chloe didn’t even look up. “Nah.”
“What happened to women supporting women?”
“We’re supporting you getting a relationship with another woman. There is nothing more ‘women supporting women’ than that!” Marinette argued.
Adrien waved off the last rich person and then turned to the gathered staff members. “I know my dad has already paid you but… take some of the gold things if you want? I don’t really care. Have at it.”
There was a beat of confused silence. And then it clicked into place and chaos reigned. The miraculous holders decidedly ignored all the yelling and screaming as they slipped inside Adrien’s house and started towards his room.
Sure, they could make the long trek across town to their house but, seriously, why would they? They were tired and it was past midnight and they wanted to steal Adrien’s clothes, so… no.
They made a pit stop to free the two people they had locked in the closet. They apologized and explained themselves and, when that didn’t work, Adrien and Chloe each Venmoed them five thousand euros. They seemed to relax after that and the five of them let them go join the free for all happening just outside.
“Damn, I wish I could just throw money at my problems until they disappear,” said Nino wistfully.
“You can now, you have a rich boyfriend,” Alya pointed out.
“... wait, am I a sugarbaby?”
“No, I don’t think so. Aren’t sugarbabies bottoms? Isn’t that the whole ‘baby’ part of it?” Joked Marinette.
“Then I guess you’re the only one that’s a sugarbaby here, Poppet.”
“Bitch --.”
Adrien and Chloe exchanged exasperated looks as their respective partners continued to debate who was technically more of a sugarbaby all the way to their room (with Alya egging them on, of course).
When they got to the safety of his room, they all detransformed. They didn’t know why they didn’t just show everyone, it would come out soon enough with both Marinette and Nino dating two very prominent figures and Alya being the last friend in the group… but they couldn’t bring themselves to tell the public just yet. They really just wanted to relax for the night.
Speaking of relaxing: why the fuck was Adrien’s bed so big? Adrien was tall and relatively wide because of his muscles but KWAMI that bed could fit all five of them with room to spare.
“Dude, what size bed is that?”
Adrien shrugged and pulled down a jewelry box from his closet. He dropped the butterfly miraculous inside.
“Custom, it has to be,” said Marinette.
“Oooooh, if it’s custom then it’s probably soft,” mumbled Alya. She dropped back on it and grinned. “I was right. I’m sleeping here, Adrien, find a new bed for yourself.”
“Wait, no, I want the bed!” Marinette complained.
“I was his friend when we were kids so I should get it.”
“I’m his BOYFRIEND --.”
“We can all have the bed,” Adrien said with a sigh. “It’s big enough. Anyways, who’s keeping their miraculi and who wants to keep them locked up?”
There was a short, uncomfortable silence.
“It’s not permanent,” he added quickly. “If you want to have them back at any point I’m not going to keep them from you, but if you want a break…”
They relaxed. It was a big decision to make, choosing to get rid of the miraculi entirely, but if they could always go back on the decision…
Nino dropped his in the box. “I have enough going on, I really don’t need this adding to it.”
Everyone nodded. They had expected that.
They hadn’t expected, however, to watch Alya take off her necklace and drop it in.
“I… I don’t like who I am with it on, not really. I don’t trust myself with it. Maybe I’ll take it back for short bursts if things happen but… yeah, I can’t.”
They nodded their understanding. The power of illusions could go to anyone’s head, really, it was good of Alya to recognize that and let it go.
Chloe and Marinette glanced at each other before pushing Adrien’s box away from themselves. They liked having the ability to fly, thank you very much, it was much quicker than walking. Also, the ability to boss around bees was pretty cool. So, yeah, they were keeping theirs.
Adrien himself kept both the brooch and the ring. The brooch because he was curious about the curse that he had discovered, the ring because he liked having Plagg around.
Adrien closed the box and set it in the back of his closet for now. And, speaking of his closet: clothes! They were going to steal clothes if it was the last thing they did.
But it didn’t need to be the last thing they did because Adrien was aware of what they wanted and didn’t care enough to stop them.
“Alright, who wants what?”
“I just want a... big shirt,” Marinette said through a yawn. “And maybe a coffee.”
“No coffee,” Chloe chided. Then she glanced at the closet. “Um… got any silk?”
Adrien nodded slightly. “Of course. What do you think I am? Poor?”
The apparently poor three complained loudly about their new classification for a bit but it was clear none of them actually cared.
Alya was the first one to break character, stretching lazily and eyeing the closet. “Just some athletic shorts for me.”
“I’m legally obligated to wear a hoodie at all times,” said Nino. “Also, silk pants because I want to see what I’m apparently missing out on.”
Adrien tossed them all their desired clothes and they didn’t bother even leaving the room to get changed. If you live with someone long enough you’re probably going to see them naked, especially when you share bathrooms.
Marinette, first to finish, turned around and gave a frown. “Hey, wait, isn’t that my shirt?”
After checking to see who she was talking to, Adrien cast a lazy look down to the shirt he was wearing as a crop top. It was a Fruits Basket shirt and he KNEW he hadn’t bought it himself because he’d never even watched the show.
But he shrugged and everyone moved on. It wasn’t like she could really complain when she was wearing a Batman themed shirt of his with the intent to steal it.
That done, they all collapsed on the bed. It took some time to find an arrangement that fit everyone’s sleeping styles, but eventually they ended up with all five of them together, comfortable under the blankets.
Adrien tried to speak but he got stopped by Marinette’s hair falling into his mouth, which sucked. He spat it out and then tried again: “Right, I’ve got a plan.”
“Wow, two plans in one night? Don’t strain yourself,” Alya teased.
He reached across Chloe and Nino to flick her forehead.
“Serves you right. Anyways, I’ve got a plan to deal with Fu.”
The next morning, the doorbell rang.
Alya shot awake, eyes wide. She slipped out of bed and started searching the floor for a shirt to pull on over her sports bra so she could check out what was going on.
The others woke up when the ringing continued, but none of them seemed all that eager to move anytime soon. They curled closer to each other, grumbling sleepy curses about whoever had the audacity to come by at… fifteen o’clock. How dare they?
Alya threw her hair into a messy ponytail and glanced over at everyone else.
After a few moment’s consideration, Alya came to a solution. She found thick headphones -- cat ear headphones, Adrien, really? -- and then walked to the piano. She banged her fist on the highest pitched keys.
Adrien screeched and launched himself out of bed, finally awake. This made everyone else tumble out of bed as well because they were experienced enough with his freakouts to know that being close to him during one meant scratches.
The four of them glared at Alya from their scattered places on the floor. She wasn’t all that concerned. She tossed Marinette a set of leggings to wear and then waved them along.
Her friends struggled to catch up -- especially Marinette, who had to juggle both pulling on pants and walking and did so with the grace of a chihuahua on adderall.
“You’re an asshole, Alya,” grumbled Nino.
“You love me.”
“Debatable,” said Chloe.
(Adrien climbed onto Nino’s back so he could go back to sleep. Nino barely blinked.)
“Nah, I’m perfect. You love me.”
“Mm,” hummed Marinette, which was better than a distinct ‘no’ if you weren’t paying attention to the angry tone she hummed it in. And Alya wasn’t paying attention to her tone. Good for her.
(Marinette made to head to the kitchen but Chloe stopped her before she could find her way to the coffee machine. Marinette made vague mouth sounds without any real meaning but Chloe pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she found herself suddenly not caring all that much.)
Finally, they reached the door. Alya swung it open to reveal Master Fu.
“I have come to retrieve the miraculi,” he informed them shortly.
Alya leaned against the doorframe. “Or what?”
“... sorry?”
“You’re one old man on the last leg of his life and we’re five athletic teens. What can you really do to us?”
Master Fu laughed, apparently thinking it was a joke. They didn’t join in.
“... I thought none of you liked being superheroes --.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, we hate it,” Marinette piped up. “But we don’t want you messing with more kids so we’re not giving them back.”
“That is very selfish --.”
“Buddy, you’re defending child labor and endangerment -- UNPAID child labor and endangerment, at that. You’re not going to get the moral high ground here,” said Nino.
Master Fu glared at them. “You may not keep the miraculi.”
“Again: what’re you gonna do to stop us?”
There was a few moments before he apparently came to a decision: “You’re living in a house paid for by me.”
Chloe grinned. “Alright.”
“... what?”
Chloe shrugged. “It’s cool. In fact, we kind of expected you to try and hold that over us. I have a moving company on speed dial and they’re stopping by tomorrow to take everything. Speaking of which, we really should get going so we can pack everything into boxes...”
She moved to brush past him, but Master Fu threw his cane in her path.
“Take it where?”
Marinette shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to you as long as we leave.”
Master Fu was not amused. “I WILL get those miraculi back. You kids don’t --.”
“So you admit it? You think we’re kids?” Alya cooed.
“... I will not leave you alone until you give me them back. I’m hundreds of years older than all of you combined, you have no idea what you’re messing with.”
Adrien pulled his face out of Nino’s neck, finally. “No. You’re going to leave us alone. Because I --” He stopped at the cold look Alya sent him and restarted “-- because ALYA found proof of identity fraud, money laundering, and tax evasion.”
Then, Nino pulled his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. The screen showed it was recording. “Also, thanks for admitting you’re hundreds of years old on tape for us. It really helps our case.”
“I’m sure the government would be very interested in how exactly you’ve lived this long,” added Chloe.
The five of them sent smug grins towards the rapidly paling Master Fu.
“This… this isn’t over!”
Marinette snickered. “Oh, sweetie, I think we all know it is.”
Alya gave a little finger wave before slamming the door in his face.
Nino glared at Chloe. “Did you really get the moving company for TOMORROW?”
“They were all booked outside of tomorrow, okay, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise!” She defended herself. “Packing is gonna suuuuuck,” complained Nino.
“I’ll get my bees to help everyone.”
“Oh, so NOW you use the bees to help us --,” started Alya.
“We are not having this argument AGAIN,” whined Marinette. “Can we just get going? We don’t have much time.”
Chloe rolled her eyes at the slightly cross look her girlfriend sent her. “Fine, I’ll say I’m sorry, is that what you want?”
“YES,” said the other four in unison.
“... well now I don’t want to.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine, don’t apologize with words. Just make up for it by carrying two people over while I carry one.”
Nino’s eyes widened fearfully. “Oh FUCK no I’m not letting you dumbasses --.”
“Do you want to walk?”
“... one of us really needs to learn to drive.”
@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali-art @ultimatetornshipper @blissful-passing @not-a-pushover @that-one-scared-gay @diana-luna-13
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Why is everyone saying that you have daddy issues?
I reblogged an ask game that was essentially "what do you assume about me based on my fics" and apparently that's the consensus
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there’s ways to understand your traumas other than through writing fanfics
Everyone else can go home. They've won. I'll see you in therapy my dude
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A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 56
Are people gonna be annoyed about this one? Probably. Do I care? Not too much, no.
They took their time making their way over to Gabriel. After all, he had no clue that they were aware of who he was. The only thing that even might set off a few alarm bells in his head is the fact that they hadn’t taken the akuma very seriously, but that could easily be attributed to boredom or wanting to waste time for the Gala. No, there was no rush.
So, Alya made a detour for the snack table and came back with a tray of food and drinks for everyone balanced on her head. Adrien and Nino, whose identities were safe, both took some wine and a few snacks each.
Marinette tried to do the same but stopped when she saw Chloe’s face.
“We trained you for this. No eating, it reflects poorly on you --.”
Marinette pressed a kiss to Chloe’s lips (much to her friends’ annoyance, they complained loudly about the PDA).
When she pulled away she sent Chloe a hopeful smile.
Chloe, however reluctantly, looked away so she could have plausible deniability. Marinette lit up and took a few snacks.
They meandered over to Gabriel’s spot by the fountain, only occasionally stopping for pictures (with kids, any adult who wanted pictures with heroes would have long since had them by that point in their careers).
Chloe hesitated when they were at the last stretch. “Chat, you should probably get ahead of everything by revealing who you are to the public. They’re gonna freak out.”
There was a collective wince as their eyes found Adrien, who had gone a little pale. He looked down at the half-empty wine glass in his hand before downing it and grabbing another two from on top of Alya’s head. He finished both of those even faster, somehow, and then made a grab for another glass or two.
Alya caught his hands. “Bud, if you’re too drunk, you’re going to say stuff you regret.”
He hesitated before nodding.
The reporters that had been hovering around them awkwardly since the end of the fight snapped to attention when he turned to look at them directly. Adrien pointed at the youngest looking one and waved them over. He smiled and crouched down slightly to meet their gaze.
“Camera ready, kid?” He said.
She fumbled for her camera before bringing it up to her eyes and, after a few seconds, gave him a thumbs up.
He smiled and detransformed with a flash of aquamarine light back into Adrien Agreste. He flashed a wink for the camera as his two kwamis came up to settle on his shoulders.
“Hi! I’m Adrien Agreste, better known as -- actually, I don’t know what identity is better known at this point, I don’t look myself up… whatever -- Chat Noir. I’m Chat Noir.”
He smiled a little more for the camera before spinning on his heel and walking back to his friends.
Nino laced his fingers with his. “We’re proud of you, man.”
Marinette snickered. “You guys still call each other ‘man’? Aren’t you dating?”
“You literally call your girlfriend ‘sweetie’.”
“IRONICALLY,” said Marinette a little too loudly for it to be genuine.
It was also loud enough for Gabriel to hear and look over. His eyes landed on his son, who had detransformed in front of everyone and was flaunting his kwamis, and his face paled because he wasn’t COMPLETELY stupid. He knew why his son would do such a thing. He glanced back towards his house and they almost hoped he would run to a place where he would be able to transform or even just transform in front of the small crowd that were attending the party -- both of which would allow them to confront him without worrying about the dumb purple stuff clogging their throats.
Unfortunately, though, he realized that either would be bad and it was best to stay where he was. They were most likely to wait until everyone cleared out to confront him. He had a grace period of sorts, he thought.
Well, he thought wrong. They were 100% about to out his annoying ass as a supervillain in front of all of his rich friends.
The five of them exchanged looks before walking the last few steps to him.
Gabriel stood from where he was sitting at the fountain to greet them better.
Alya giggled and waved. “Hi, Gabriel, that’s a very nice pin you have there. I’d love to examine the jewel in it. May I?”
“No. My wife gave it to me before she passed, I hope you understand that I don’t want to risk it getting damaged,” Gabriel said, resting a hand over it protectively.
“If anyone has experience taking care of jewelry, you’d think it would be us,” pointed out Nino with a bright smile.
“Ah, I still wouldn’t want to risk it.”
Adrien batted his eyelashes innocently at his father. “What about me, father? May I see it, since it’s one of the few things we’ve kept from when mother was alive?”
“You already have a jewel from your mother,” hissed Gabriel. He noticed all the people around him sending him scandalized looks and quickly made moves to salvage his reputation: “I mean… I can’t bear to part with it without good reason.”
“I have a good reason,” Chloe said. “The gem inlaid in it looks like one in our ancient texts. We suspect that it may have magical properties that, if we get it from you, could aid us in defeating Hawkmoth.”
“That’s preposterous --!”
“If it’s so preposterous then you can just hand it over and we’ll be glad to hand it back the moment we prove it’s not of use to us,” Marinette said. “BUT, we do need to follow any leads we may get, I’m sure you understand.”
Adrien leaned in for the kill. “You DO want to help us defeat Hawkmoth, don’t you, father?”
Gabriel had been backed into a corner. Either he says no and his reputation would get so smeared that he’d have no choice but to leave Paris (where he would officially no longer be their problem, yay!) or he hands it over and they reveal it was a miraculous all along. Like all cornered animals, he puffed up and prepared to attack:
He swung his cane towards them. Unfortunately for him, he was a frail old man and they were all magically enhanced and athletic young adults. Chloe caught it with ease and wrenched it from his hands.
Gabriel scowled.
“I suppose you leave me no choice, then: Nooroo, dark wings --!”
Nino punched him in the throat.
Gabriel wheezed and fell back a step, holding his neck.
Chloe snickered. “Wait, did he actually say DARK wings? Are there evil versions of all of the transformations?!”
“The old person who made the miraculi was like ‘you guys aren’t made to be used for evil… but if you are you have to make your owners say this way eviller code instead’,” Marinette joked.
Alya laughed and looked over at the recovering Gabriel Agreste.
“Awwww, look, the old man is finally seeing the consequences of not doing any of his own fighting in six years. I almost feel bad for him,” she cooed mockingly. Her lips twitched into a cruel grin. “Watch this.”
She punched him in the stomach and, once he bent over to cradle his aching stomach, kicked him in the jaw as hard as she could. Gabriel groaned and stumbled back… straight into the fountain.
Makeup sloughed off of him in pounds, it seemed, muddying the otherwise clear waters. They watched it swirl around as he struggled to pull himself out of it.
“He really is a witch,” joked Nino. “Even melts in water.”
Marinette grinned and reached into the water, grabbing him by the front of his horrid red and white suit and pulling him out so they could continue messing with him, only to drop him back in with a yelp of surprise.
To the horror of everyone who hadn’t been informed (and even those who had been informed, though they’d never admit to it), the makeup had actually had a purpose. Black veins webbed under his skin, enlarged to the point where they almost popped out in places.
Chloe did what everyone does when they see something very gross: try and kill it. She spun the stolen cane in her hands and then whacked him in the head as hard as she possibly could.
As you can guess, Gabriel was pretty out of it by this point. Dunked in water twice, a blow to the stomach, one to the neck, AND two hits to the head? Yeah, no, even magical enhancements can’t help that much.
Nino pulled him out of the water so he wouldn’t drown and laid him on the ground. The five of them looked down at the man in front of them with disgust.
Adrien leaned down and pulled the pin from his father’s shirt, only getting a weak whine of protest from the dazed man, and there was a flash of bright purple light as Nooroo emerged from the miraculous. The few gathered rich people who hadn’t yet put two and two together gasped, but none of the miraculous holders were paying much attention to them.
Because now they had full clearance to beat the shit out of Gabriel. After all the problems Gabriel had caused Paris they doubted anyone would jump in even if they tried to kill the guy.
Not that they were going to. He deserved to rot in prison for the rest of his life.
But, before they hauled him off to prison, they were going to beat his ass.
Imagine getting beat up by four pent up, slightly drunk teenagers in shiny costumes. It definitely couldn’t be a top twenty moment for Gabriel Agreste as they all competed to see who could stomp him the furthest into the ground.
“Adrien,” wheezed Gabriel, reaching limply for his son snacking from his spot on the rim of the fountain.
Nino kicked him in the jaw as hard as he could. “Keep his name out of your fucking mouth.”
Adrien held up a hand for them all to stop, and they did. He had the most right to be angry out of any of them, after all. They backed up as Adrien approached his father and knelt beside him.
“How could you? I’m your father, you can’t just let them beat me like this...”
Adrien chuckled darkly.
“Hurts, doesn’t it? Someone who’s supposed to love you sitting back and watching you get beat up solely to attain their own goals? Maybe I should send them to your cell every day for six years, really drive home how terrible it is...” He patted Gabriel’s cheek in a mockery of familial affection. “But don’t worry. You never laid your hands on me, and I’m going to extend the same courtesy to you.”
He pushed himself to his feet again and flashed a grin at his friends.
“Alright, go ahead and have your fun.”
The four of them advanced on Gabriel again.
@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali-art @ultimatetornshipper @blissful-passing @not-a-pushover @that-one-scared-gay @diana-luna-13
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I love seeing people’s picrew art styles because you can just look at them and be like
“You read homestuck and it was a big part of your life for a few years, you’re not into steven universe but you did watch it, and you had an intense black butler phase in middle school and doodled their eyes over and over again in your spiral notebooks”
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A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 55
Marinette was very lucky that she was required to have a mask on to keep her identity, because it also kept Gabriel Agreste from knowing just how angry she was at him.
Because ‘Ladybug’ had no reason to be pissed, only Marinette. The man had really disregarded the one thing she’d told him: stick to a color scheme, don’t do the red and white colors and then also bring along the purple and black cane and/or pin. It doesn’t look good. It doesn’t work. Don’t. Do. It.
But guess what he did?
Even worse, everyone else was required to leave all their accessories at the door so he was the only person with accessories. And they didn’t even match!
But she’d managed to keep up her smile for the public. The slight squeeze Chloe gave her helped.
She got through a short conversation with him by letting Chloe do all the talking and then walked inside with her. The two of them chatted idly, but they couldn’t really enjoy it between ignoring the miscellaneous reporters asking about their relationship and watching the entrances and exits.
Marinette kept her eyes on the house and Chloe watched the entrance to see who was coming in.
But, to their surprise, no one left around the time the akuma fluttered overhead. They watched it for a few seconds and then sent each other confused frowns.
“I didn’t see anyone leave.”
“I didn’t see anyone go inside.”
“Then I guess he isn’t here…” said Chloe with a shake of her head. “There’s nothing people can really hide anything in.”
Marinette pressed her lips together thinly, scanning over the guests, and then locked her eyes on Gabriel Agreste. The cane. The pin. She fought the urge to facepalm. She was so STUPID. Of course that was the answer. His insistence on bringing those along all the time no matter what colors he was wearing, his closeness to Adrien, the way Adrien had been acting the past month or so… it all lined up to answer the most obvious question she’d ever wasted braincells on.
She glanced at Chloe, wondering how she could tip her off. She had seen what happened when Master Fu tried to tell them, she wasn’t eager to start spitting up purple.
She didn’t get much time to consider it before the akuma hit the hourglass, spewing sand everywhere and pulling her from her thoughts to glare at him.
“What makes all of you above me? How many of you have done anything genuinely worthwhile?”
Chloe and Marinette glanced at each other before shrugging and raising their hands. The knight ignored them, like a BITCH.
“That’s right: none of you! You were just born rich! But I’ll show the world what you really are!”
He turned the person nearest him and stabbed his sword at them. But instead of them being… y’know, stabbed, they turned into a pig. Wild.
Chloe transformed. Marinette concentrated on turning her outfit into her normal fighting-gear.
“We should get rid of civilians while we wait for the others. Gives us time to learn his patterns and -- you’re not listening to me at all, are you?”
Chloe had her arms crossed over her chest, eyes locked on a spot over Marinette’s shoulder. “He’s… happy.”
Marinette blinked confusedly and followed her gaze to see Gabriel. Oh. Good. So Chloe had figured it out, then. That made everything easier on her.
“We can beat the shit out of him later, we gotta deal with that,” she said, jerking her head towards the knight.
“We can beat him up now,” pouted Chloe.
“But he’ll heal once we get rid of the akuma.”
Chloe’s pout quickly morphed into a grin. “Know what? You’re right.”
“Always am,” she chirped. “Now, help me with the civvies.”
Listen, Marinette and Chloe did NOT show favoritism while working. But… the people that tended to be nicer to Marinette on the job or that Chloe grew up with just so happened to be closer to them so they were the people that got saved first. It was purely coincidence. They were professionals, after all.
The other three came running out of the house to help.
“Took you long enough!” Yelled Chloe.
Marinette privately agreed, but she couldn’t say so in front of the guests so she settled for not saying anything.
“Blame these two, they had to have a moment or whatever,” said Alya with an eyeroll.
Adrien and Nino blushed.
Marinette smirked and, once she had carried Kagami to safety, gave Nino a high five.
Now that they had gotten every nice person out -- I mean now that everyone was there they all grouped together just outside the house walls to make a plan.
“Someone’s gotta get swatted by the not pointy part to see if only the point turns people or if it’s the whole thing. Who’s gonna volunteer?” Said Alya.
Unsurprisingly, no one seemed all that eager.
Hesitantly, Adrien turned to Marinette and Chloe. “You guys don’t know who Hawkmoth is, right?”
“No, we figured it out while you guys were gone,” Marinette waved him off absently.
“Oh, cool. And you trust me?”
Marinette clicked her tongue. “Honestly, even if you are working for your dad I doubt it’s fully your own choice. He’s not a great guy, probably manipulated you into it or whatever. Either way, not going to hold it against you.”
He nodded thoughtfully and then looked at Chloe, who apparently wasn’t having it:
“If I didn’t trust you, you’d know.”
“... thanks?”
“You’re welcome. Now, what’s the plan?”
Adrien pulled a feather from his brooch and dropped it on a nearby rock. The rock glowed blue and stretched until it was… a generic-looking socialite? Hair slicked back, teeth unnaturally white, tan job looking a little orange… 
“WHAT THE FUCK,” said Alya, recoiling visibly.
“Language,” said the socialite.
“I have a name, you know: Sir Puddington The Third.”
“Oh okay I hate this,” Nino muttered, taking a step away.
Marinette was so fucking tired. She was not about to worry about Puddleton or whatever it was the guy had called himself. “Alright, so you can make fully sentient creatures. Yeah. Okay. Fine. Whatever. Go make it do the thing.”
Adrien nodded awkwardly. The socialite strode into the Gala, a not-quite-a-man on a mission.
… a mission to get hit by the lance. Despite their aversion to the walking moral dilemma, the miraculous holders all winced sympathetically at the loud THWACK sound echoing through the area. Puffleton went flying into a nearby wall. At least he hadn’t gotten turned into a pig?
Adrien flicked his wrist and Paddington fell to the ground, a feather and rock once more.
The other four exchanged looks.
Marinette pushed some hair from her face. “Pretend that never happened?”
“Yeah, we’re never talking about that again,” said Alya.
They all nodded their agreement (because shaking hands is a little difficult when it’s four people agreeing on something) and Adrien flashed a slightly apologetic smile.
Chloe glanced over the knight for a minute before yawning. “Well, he should be easy. If we all rush him, at least one of us has to get the sword.”
Nino hesitated. “Yeah… we COULD do that… OR, since this is the last time we’re going to be doing anything like this, win or not, we could have a little fun with it…”
The five miraculous holders exchanged grins.
The knight, Galant, had been in the middle of trying to stab a very distressed Audrey Bourgeois when she disappeared. He skidded to a stop, confusion written across his face despite his face being a plate of armor, and looked around… only to find everyone had disappeared into thin air.
Outside of five teens intending to make him regret ever getting akumatized.
Galant was not aware of his imminent doom. “I will make all of you regret ever helping these --!”
“Hey, do you take gendered terms?” Asked Alya, just to be sure.
“... yeah?”
“Girl, shut the fuck up.”
The akuma didn’t seem to know how to respond to this.
Chloe, however, did. She turned to Marinette and whispered something in her ear, earning a laugh. Marinette turned and said something to Alya who said something to Nino who said something to Adrien.
A few activated powers later Chloe was on a horse with a lance and a plate for a shield.
“Hey, wanna joust?”
“A worthy opponent,” said Galant.
Adrien flicked his wrist and sent a feather towards a fallen wine glass by the akuma’s feet, turning it into a horse… or, at least, that’s what the knight saw. It turned out to all be an illusion, which was unfortunate because Galant tried to jump on the horse and ended up faceplanting.
“Loser,” said Adrien, the grown man in a skintight leather bodysuit.
Marinette snickered and shook her head. “Right, right, Rena: Bugging Out.”
Alya groaned. “You’re no fun when you’re ‘Ladybug’.”
“I never said you couldn’t mess with him while you’re Bugged Out, just that we should make some kind of progress.”
That made her light up again.
One high note with her flute later… nothing happened, it seemed. She attacked Galant head on and, as one would expect, he stabbed her with his sword.
To his surprise, though, the moment he made contact with her she poofed into orange dust. She reappeared a meter away, sticking her tongue out at him mockingly. Galant groaned and tried to stab her again, only for her to do it again.
The process repeated itself a few times before he caught on and turned to the other miraculous holders that he could actually see and therefore might be able to deal with…
He got hit in the back of the head with a flute. A chorus of Alyas laughed at him from the ether as he rubbed the sore spot.
“Carapace --,” started Marinette, but Nino grinned and shook his head.
“Don’t worry about me. I have an idea.”
And what a beautiful idea it was: dropping plates on Galant’s head, making him slip on them, just being an overall nuisance… with both him and Alya, Galant simply wasn’t having a good time.
But wait! There’s more!
Adrien and Chloe decided to mess with him together. Adrien would cataclysm the ground around Galant and Chloe would shoot honey into his eyes, causing him to stumble around blindly and then fall through the broken patches in the floor.
Marinette beamed and walked over to the fallen hourglass, summoning a giant fan from her yoyo (she heard Nino yell something along the lines of “HOW DOES THAT FIT?!”).
“Rena, clear!”
After about a minute Marinette felt a tap on her shoulder and fought not to jump. She glanced into lamplike yellow eyes and flashed a wink before turning on the fan.
Have you ever been caught in a sandstorm? Probably not. It sucks. Sand whipping at you, determined to cut tiny little scratches in your skin, only to fill them with yet more sand mere seconds later… but that’s not the worst part: sand in your eyes and up your nose and in your mouth and coarse against your clothes… yeah, Anakin Skywalker had definitely had a reason to hate sand.
It was even worse because some of the sticky residue from Chloe’s honey had still been there, so his face and hands were coated in sand with no end in sight.
“FINE I GIVE UP,” the akuma yelled finally, voice hoarse from all the sand lodged in his throat.
The miraculous holders all pouted. Well, THAT was no fun.
Still, Marinette snatched the lance from his hands and broke it. Chloe was the one to snipe the butterfly out of thin air with her spinning top.
Everything returned to normal and they found themselves looking down at some random college student. Figures.
They waved him off as he got escorted out by some security guards.
“Man, that didn’t NEARLY get all my anger out,” complained Nino.
Marinette smirked and looped her arm with his. “Worry not, dear friend, for I have a solution!”
The five of them turned their gazes on Gabriel Agreste.
@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali-art @ultimatetornshipper @blissful-passing @not-a-pushover @that-one-scared-gay @diana-luna-13
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 10 days ago
A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 54
Today! Was! The! Day!
Adrien was internally freaking out. Externally… he was also freaking out, it was just a little less noticeable. He had things to do, stuff to prepare, he couldn’t waste time screaming into his pillow.
The day of the Gala he spent hours getting ready, as was customary for these kinds of things. He changed into a clean-pressed suit, slicked back his hair, and started applying his makeup.
He stared at the markings around his eyes. If someone wasn’t paying attention they would think it was just winged eyeliner but…
He grabbed his foundation and started dabbing them away. No one there would understand outside of maybe his dad, but his dad was the last person that needed to know that he had been using the peacock miraculous.
Speaking of… he looked down at his miraculi. He hid the brooch under his collar and, after glaring at the ring for a while, ended up just changing the color to dark green to match the lining of his suit.
After hanging out with his new pet mouse (he’d named her Souris, because he sucked at names) for a few hours it was time to head down and attend the Gala.
He passed by a closet and raised his eyebrows at the shuffling sound inside of it. He opened the door. Two servers were tied up inside, and their faces lit up when they saw him. He glanced them over. Dark skin, about the same height as his friends, the woman even had glasses…
He held up a finger for them to wait and then rushed back to his room, coming back with a sheet.
He stuffed the sheet under the door, only leaving a little crack for oxygen. Their shoulders slumped when they realized they weren’t about to be saved. He ignored the twinge of guilt he felt as he finished and closed the door. He waited a few moments to see if any sound escaped and nodded to himself a little when nothing came. There. No lost guests looking for the bathroom would notice anything off.
Alright, next thing. He walked over to The Door and tried the knob. Locked, as always. He pulled out the copy of the key and tested it again. Unlocked. Good, his dad hadn’t randomly decided to change the lock after six years. Everything was in place.
Except maybe…
He walked to the nearest window and looked outside.
It was done up in elegant white and gold for New Years, and he could see a giant golden hourglass counting down the time until they would reach the next year. A gorgeous white fountain decorated the center of the courtyard.
But none of that mattered to him, it was old news. His eyes found his father quickly, it was hard to miss him with his peppermint color scheme. Adrien nodded to himself when he saw the familiar cane, black with a purple top.
Great, then everything would go to plan.
He slipped outside, tugging at the cuffs of his shirt and striding over to take his place by his father.
“Today’s the day,” he chirped.
“Yes. I do hope you’ll be on your best behavior.”
Adrien smirked. “When am I not?”
Gabriel didn’t answer, because he was busy turning to greet the first guest.
Adrien pulled his most gorgeous smile to his face as the Tsurugis made their way inside.
Kagami led her mother by the arm. Apparently the usual rule against bringing in any kinds of accessories -- Hawkmoth typically refrained from akumatizing essential clothing pieces because of the awkwardness after the akuma was broken -- extended even to a blind woman’s cane.
He sent his father a slight glare, the man ignored him (as always), and they continued greeting guests.
After a few guests the other miraculous holders made their appearance: Marinette and Chloe, arm in arm. Marinette had changed her usual akuma-fighting gear into a floor-length red dress so she didn’t have to go through the effort of making an entire dress for herself on top of everything else. Chloe was wearing a yellow gown inlaid with white lace, courtesy of her girlfriend.
He smiled as he kissed both of their hands like he was supposed to and they gave him faintly apologetic looks before passing by him to greet his father.
They curtseyed. He bowed.
“I’m so honored to have two miraculous holders at my Gala. Please, help yourself to anything you’d like. It’s all I can do to repay you two for everything you’ve done for the city.”
“Thank you so much, monsieur.”
“Of course. Do pass my thanks on to the other holders.”
“We’ll be sure to do that.”
The two of them shot one last look in Adrien’s direction before leaving to carve out a tiny spot for themselves by the fountain.
Adrien fought the urge to lean against the nearest wall, his legs already starting to ache from standing still for so long, so he settled to look around for the other miraculous holders.
Chloe and Marinette had moved to the snack table, smiling cheesily at each other over untouched glasses of wine. They didn’t acknowledge the cameras nearby snapping picture after picture.
Nino was walking around and offering food to guests. Adrien was 100% sure that Nino didn’t actually know what he was offering them. He was just stringing together random syllables and hoping no one would call him out on it. And no one did -- no one else knew what the things were, either, and they couldn’t risk being WRONG when correcting Nino. Good for him.
After an almost embarrassing amount of searching he found Alya just a bit away. She was leaning against the wall, all pretenses forgotten as she glared at Gabriel.
She noticed him looking and turned her glare on him briefly and then seemed to fade out until he wasn’t sure he would even see her if he wasn’t looking directly at her. He watched with interest as she walked over to stand next to Gabriel. She motioned to all of him, then raised a hand as high as it could reach.
‘He’s tall.’
Adrien nodded.
She eyed Gabriel up and down before pointing to the pin on his chest.
Adrien nodded again.
Her face was unreadable for a few seconds before Gabriel finally turned to look where Adrien was looking and she was forced to quickly return herself to full presence… which Adrien hadn’t even known she could DO but he didn’t have much time to dwell on it as she offered him and his father a tray of wine glasses.
“Drinks, monsieurs?”
Adrien smiled and took one. “Yes. Thank you.”
Gabriel hesitated for just a moment longer before taking one himself. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome!” Alya beamed a smile so perfect Adrien thought she should be the model not him and then strode off confidently like serving people was actually her job.
Gabriel and Adrien clinked glasses and brought them to their lips without actually drinking any.
“I do believe everyone’s already arrived. You may go mingle,” his father said, which translated to ‘go away’.
Adrien was glad to do so, locating Kagami sitting at a table with her mother and quickly heading over to her. He hadn’t been able to see her in months, he couldn’t wait to talk to --.
There was a collective groan and he sighed as he turned back around. Looked away for TWO SECONDS and his father had already released an akuma. He searched around and watched an akuma flutter over the wall.
His eyes flicked to Marinette and Chloe, but the two of them seemed busy with whatever conversation they were having. Both of them wore concerned frowns, but apparently they had no intentions of dealing with the akuma before it was created.
And, it turns out, they probably couldn’t have even if they’d wanted to. The wall the butterfly had disappeared over crumbled to reveal a knight with what appeared to be a jousting stick.
There was a beat as the guests and the knight looked at each other, before the guests apparently decided to just ignore it and go back to their conversations.
The knight didn’t seem to like that, hitting the hourglass nearby with his lance and spewing sand everywhere.
Well, that definitely got everyone’s attention, at least. They turned annoyed gazes on the knight.
“What makes all of you above me? How many of you have done anything genuinely worthwhile?”
Chloe and Marinette raised their hands. The knight didn’t seem to see it.
“That’s right: none of you! You were just born rich! But I’ll show the world what you really are!”
The knight smacked the socialite nearest him with his lance and everyone watched in horror as they turned into a pig.
Adrien could practically hear the ‘oh, this is actually going to be a problem, isn’t it?’ running through everyone’s heads before people scattered.
He took off as well and it took only a few seconds before he felt Nino running on his left. He glanced over and flashed a wink, then looked to the other side to see if Alya was with them. She was, though she didn’t seem particularly happy about it.
He led them into his house and down a few hallways to The Door. He pushed it open and waved the others inside.
“No one ever really comes in here, it’s fine --.”
“WHAT THE HELL, AGRESTE,” yelled Alya, and he turned just in time to get a flute thrusted under his chin.
He held up his hands and glanced around. Alya had closed the door behind herself and held it closed so Nino couldn’t come in with her foot. He could see a trail of purple foam spilling down the side of her chin.
“I tried to tell you guys but any time I tried to give you the answer -- or even a too good hint -- it wouldn’t work. As I’m sure you know -- that purple… you tried to tell Nino, right?”
She narrowed her eyes slightly but nodded, wiping the purple from her chin with her free hand.
“There’s only so much I can do and trust me I TRIED. Even texting doesn’t work, the purple filled my vision until I no longer had any desire to tell you. This room was the best I could do.”
He motioned to the room around them and Alya, hesitantly, tore her gaze from his to look. The room had been cleaned up (to the best of a rich kid’s ability, at least) and now all the old portraits and pictures were on full display. Pictures of his mother, with black lining her eyes and blue dots arcing off of it in a way that could be mistaken for extravagant eye makeup if it didn’t look like she had just tumbled out of bed. Pictures of his father with bloodshot eyes and the veins under his skin so dark they seemed almost black. A child with both features, though fainter, looking almost fake with porcelain skin and feathered blonde hair.
“If you guys hadn’t been able to figure it out, and I don’t think Nino has yet, I was going to bring you in this room so you would have a better chance.”
“... you got rid of evidence, though.”
“I’ll admit to that, yeah. I didn’t know when you would start confronting or researching people and I wanted to at least try and talk to my dad first.”
Alya lowered the flute slowly. “And the peacock miraculous?”
“Didn’t want to get my dad’s miraculous and then have him come back the next day with this one. Only used it to give myself a pet, she’s very cute I think you’d like her --.”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right. Let Nino in, we gotta at least try and get him to understand.”
She released the door and, after a second, Nino pushed his way in. He looked between the two of them, confused.
“It’s fine, I just... had to ask him something private,” said Alya hesitantly.
Nino didn’t seem to believe her, but the three of them transformed one by one. If he noticed that Adrien and Alya hesitated a little bit to give Nino a bit more time to look around, Nino didn’t say a word about it.
Because he was busy staring at the portrait nearest him with wide eyes. He turned to Adrien and motioned to a portrait of his father. “Dude… what the fuck? Why does he look like that?”
Adrien could only sigh and say: “Yeah, without his makeup his veins are super visible for some reason.”
“He should get that checked out. That’s unnatural --.”
Nino stopped and then he turned to look at Adrien a little more closely. He slammed his palm against his forehead.
“Oh… I’m sorry, man. Wow, that definitely makes things make more sense.”
Alya and Adrien exchanged looks before Alya carefully said: “So… you figured it out?”
“Yeah. His dad is Hawkmoth. Like I said, everything kinda lines up now.”
Adrien frowned confusedly. “You still trust me?”
“Yeah? Should I not?”
“Well, his dad IS Hawkmoth…”
Nino shrugged. “We’ve been through the traitor thing already and I trusted him then, why would I stop now?”
“More evidence against him, maybe?”
“Reasoning for why he wasn’t then still stands… and, I gotta admit, I just kinda know he couldn’t do that, y’know? I trust him.”
Adrien blushed faintly. “Thanks.”
(Alya groaned and left the room, complaining about how “They couldn’t even wait until she left the room to be gay, fucking hell…”. They opted to ignore her.)
“No problem, man.” Nino hesitated, glancing away before meeting his gaze with shocking seriousness. “Today is the last day, you know that, right? There’s at least three on one, depending on whether Marinette and Chloe figured it out, so after we beat this akuma… we confront him. Whether we win or not… it’s over.”
Adrien nodded. “I’ve had time to prepare. I think I’m ready.”
“Listen, if this goes wrong…” Nino hesitated. “Know that I care about you, alright?”
“I care about you, too…”
Nino hesitated again, eyes searching Adrien’s, before taking his face in his hands and pulling him down slightly for a kiss. Adrien rested his hands on top of his, almost not believing it for a second. He had some trouble kissing back through the smile on his face but, for some reason, he didn’t think Nino would care.
@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali-art @ultimatetornshipper @blissful-passing @not-a-pushover @that-one-scared-gay @diana-luna-13
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 12 days ago
A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 53
Chloe groaned when she heard a knock on her window, burrowing her face further in the blankets.
And then her brain processed that it was a knock. On her window. And she lived in a penthouse.
She reluctantly pushed herself up to sit in her bed and squinted out the window. Marinette sat just outside, one knee drawn to her chest and her head resting back against the sill as she waited to be let in. Chloe was hit with a sudden rush of nostalgia as she was thrown back to all the times ‘Ladybug’ had been outside her window before her patrols so she could babysit her.
But, instead of the forced smile that she used to put on when she noticed Chloe looking, concern spread across her face.
Chloe trudged over, blanket wrapped tightly around herself, and pushed the window open.
Marinette slipped inside. “Heard you got sick?”
“Who snitched?”
“Everyone. Almost at the exact same time, actually,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “I think they’re hoping that you’ll do that thing where you confess your love to me or something while your brain is fried.”
Chloe rolled her eyes with a smile. “Give me something to eat and I just might.”
Marinette grinned and held up a plastic bag Chloe had missed. “Well, Alya asked me to take you some chicken noodle soup courtesy of her mom.”
“I don’t know whether that means I’m supposed to confess my love for Alya, her mom, or you.”
“Her mom, obviously.”
Chloe snorted. “If only I had her number.”
Marinette rolled her eyes and leaned down to scoop Chloe into her arms, blanket and all. “When you’re feeling better you can fly over and tell her in person. For now you’ll have to wait.”
She smiled and tipped her head to rest against her shoulder. Marinette pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“You’re really warm,” she told her, setting her down on the bed.
“Yeah. I’m sick.”
“What do you have?”
She shrugged. “Probably a cold.”
“Oh, then you’ll be fine by tomorrow,” she said, drawing back now that she knew it wasn’t all that serious.
Chloe watched her set the soup on the nightstand with a pout, pulling her hands from her blanket burrito to reach for her. “Yeah, but I’m not fine now so…”
“I have to help my parents with work.”
“I’ll send Alya and Nino to do it. I can say it’s part of their training or whatever.”
Marinette hesitated just slightly and Chloe made a show of coughing into her arm. She knew that she could tell it was fake, but Marinette allowed Chloe to drag her into bed with her.
“I’m going to tell Adrien that you’re even clingier than he is when you’re sick.”
“I’m only like this when it’s you.”
Marinette’s face flushed. Chloe beamed as she tossed the blanket over her and pulled her close for cuddles.
“Ugh. You’re all sweaty.”
“I’m sick, cut me a break.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” she teased but she still allowed Chloe to bury her face in her neck.
Chloe didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she woke up. One of Marinette’s hands was running through her hair, working through the tiny knots that had formed. Chloe had tangled their legs in their sleep and wrapped her arms around her waist.
She lifted her head slightly and the hand in her hair stilled.
Marinette had been scrolling through her phone, a content smile on her face. Now, though, she turned her attention onto Chloe. She pressed a tiny kiss to her forehead. “Hey.”
“I could wake up to this every day,” Chloe ‘joked’, and she KNEW she had a dopey look on her face.
Marinette rolled her eyes, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Please, this stops the minute you get better.”
“Maybe I’ll just keep getting sick, then.”
She got a little laugh for that one. “Sounds miserable.”
“It’d be worth it,” said Chloe. She drew back some so they could both stretch. “How long was I out?”
“Two hours,” Marinette said. She craned her neck. “Kwami, everything is numb now.”
“It does,” she said, trying to get out of the blankets.
Chloe whined and buried her face in her chest and tightened her grip on her waist. “Nooooo…”
“I can’t stay here forever.”
“With you? Forever wouldn’t be nearly long enough to satisfy me.”
Marinette rolled her eyes to hide the way her face flushed and semi-reluctantly settled back in the bed. “I have to give it to you, you can be pretty smooth.”
Chloe smiled and looked up at her. “Thank you, honey.”
She snickered and flashed a goofy smile. “Of course, sweetie.”
Chloe slowly let her head fall to rest on Marinette’s chest again and she couldn’t help the way she felt her face warm when she heard her heart beat just a little faster.
… and a question bubbled to the surface, threatening the smile on her face. She hesitated and considered brushing it aside like she always did but… she had to know. She lifted her gaze back to Marinette’s.
“Why don’t you hate me?”
She blinked.
“You should hate me, I was awful to you and Nino for years. Why don’t you guys hate me?” Her smile disappeared. “Oh…” She swallowed thickly and looked away. “It’s… I didn’t think I would ever like you as much as I did, I’m sure if past me saw me today she’d be pretty disappointed, but… I think current you doesn’t really like past you, either.”
She frowned, confused.
“You’ve been trying really hard to get past that, I guess is the best way of saying it. I don’t like the person you were, but that person doesn’t exist anymore. You’re someone else now and you’re trying to make up for it. I can’t ask you to do much more than that. And you can’t ask yourself to do more, either. You’ve saved Paris multiple times, saved millions of people, don’t you think you’ve atoned enough for being a bit of a bitch when we were kids?”
Chloe didn’t know how to respond to that. So, instead, she gave a halfhearted smile and said: “Ten euros.”
Marinette’s soft look dropped into a scowl. “I take that back. You haven’t changed at all.”
Chloe giggled and, after a second, Marinette joined her in her laughter.
There was a beat as the two of them smiled at each other. After a moment’s hesitation Marinette took Chloe’s face in her hands and pulled her in for a kiss.
Chloe, reluctantly, stopped when they were just a few centimeters apart. “Tomorrow. I’m still sick, idiot. We know it's transferred by saliva, too, ‘cause that’s how I got it in the first place.”
Marinette smirked. “Okay, but consider: I’m not weak.”
Chloe narrowed her eyes slightly and moved forward the last bit to kiss the smirk off her face. Marinette blinked, surprised, before tangling her fingers in her hair and kissing back. She let her eyes flutter closed, a small smile on her face as she pulled her ever closer by her waist.
… as you can guess, Marinette ended up sick the next day.
The next day, Chloe’s TikTok had a new video.
Chloe gave the camera an exhausted look.
“Being a woman in love with another woman is not always cute. Sometimes it’s pushing your girlfriend’s face away because you have a cold and she keeps trying to kiss you knowing this because she has no sense of self preservation.”
The camera panned to show Marinette, who had curled herself around her and fallen asleep, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat and skin paler than ever.
“She ended up catching a cold. You’ll never guess how!”
@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali-art @ultimatetornshipper @blissful-passing @not-a-pushover @that-one-scared-gay
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 13 days ago
Stalker X Stalker, Part 2
First part
Perma tag: @nathleigh
Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades
Tim wheeled his bike into the alleyway nearby and set the alarm to call him if someone messed with it beyond the normal ‘must touch cool thing’ instincts.
Once he was sure that his bike couldn’t be easily stolen, he turned back to where Marinette was waiting for him.
She struggled with her phone with her gloved fingers. His lips twitched into a grin and he took a moment to school his face into a neutral expression before he started over.
After a second, her head turned to look at him and she flashed a wink, pocketing her phone.
“Cheers!” She chirped, flashing him a wave.
Tim raised an eyebrow at her behind his domino mask. “I hate to break this to you, but that’s a British thing.”
He could only see the top half of her face, and yet he was sure she was pouting. “Kwami, this is Canada French all over again.”
“Canada --?”
“They speak the language all wrong,” she said, as if that made it make more sense.
“I feel like you’re implying that I speak English wrong.”
“Would you rather I say it outright? ‘Cheers’ is a cute word and it sucks that Americans don’t use it.”
“Is this really a hill you’re going to die on?”
“Not just a hill I’m going to die on, it’s the hill.”
He scoffed lightly at that, then turned to get the door for her. The moment they stepped inside they tensed. The silent stares pressed in on them on all sides and he felt Marinette shuffle just the slightest bit closer to him as they took their place in line. The Gothamites continued watching them -- no, they were watching her -- warily, and of course they were (new people in costumes usually meant pain for them).
Well, he could assure them she was safe, at least.
He slowly, carefully, threw his arm over his shoulders. Marinette’s hand twitched towards the arm on instinct to throw him off, but otherwise she didn’t give much indication that what was going on was weird. There were a few more tense seconds before people turned back to what they were doing, visibly relieved by the fact that she was apparently on the good side. Chatter started back up.
Marinette relaxed slightly under his arm and he gave her shoulder a little squeeze in a weak attempt at comfort.
“Kwami, I forgot how much being a new hero sucks.”
“Vigilante,” he corrected her absently.
She rolled her eyes. “At least try and make it sound like you’re not a cop with a bird theme.”
He sputtered, pulling away to cross his arms over his chest. “Hey!”
“Am I wrong?”
She rested her hands on her hips.
“We break laws!”
She snickered. “So do cops.”
Tim… didn’t have a retort for that. Luckily, he didn’t need to have one, because it was their turn to order. Neither of them hesitated and within a minute they had their drinks and were out the door. They waved for the few cameras pointed at them on their way out, false smiles lighting up their faces, and then quickly ducked back into the alleyway to have their drinks in privacy.
“I’m going to start going places as Red Robin more often since it seems to mean I’ll get served quicker,” joked Tim as he leaned against the wall.
She gave him a puff of laughter and then pulled the bottom of her mask up to take a sip of her caramel frappe. He watched her expression for a moment and then decided that it must have been good because she didn’t instantly recoil. He pulled his coffee to his lips and took a confident gulp, only to choke.
“Shit,” he hissed, fighting the urge to spit it out.
Now that he knew what to look for he could see the pain behind her eyes.
“It’s really bad,” she informed him, purposefully just a moment too late in her warning.
He huffed a little, looking at the cup in his hand. It’s an iced coffee! How do you even mess that up?
There was a beat as the two vigilantes considered their options, before giving each other shrugs and downing their drinks. It may have been bad, but at least it was caffeinated. Marinette, lucky her, had an easier time of it because she’d gotten whipped cream with hers. He was tempted to snatch the drink from her hands to have something to wash down the cup threatening to sully the good name of coffee for him…
But he didn’t have to. She smiled and offered him the last of her whipped cream. He squinted at it suspiciously as if expecting it to be poisoned. After the coffee incident just a moment before he wasn’t about to take any chances.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s actually good, promise.”
“If you’re lying I’m taking back vouching for you to Batman,” he told her.
Her eyes crinkled with mirth.
“I’m serious! If it’s terrible I’m marching back to the Batcave --!”
“All the way back?”
“Yes! All the way back to the Batcave! And I’m going to revoke my vouching!”
“Oh noooooo, not the vouching!” She said, bringing her hands to her cheeks in mock terror. When he continued to ‘glare’ at her she snickered and assured him that: “It’s fine, I’m pretty sure it’s from a can.”
He squinted at her, because canned whipped cream was still far below his normal standard, but he did end up taking it. It was… okay.
“See? Not poisoned.”
“Very suspicious thing to say unprompted but okay.”
She grinned, reaching over to swipe some cream off his nose. “You’ll die in exactly four hours”
He rolled his eyes. “Hm. I guess I should go home and work on making an antidote, then.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that. I’ll see you later.” She leaned forward and pressed her mask to his cheek in a sort of kiss before heading off.
He watched her leave, smiling to himself. He leaned back against his motorbike absently, thinking.
Well, he supposed he didn’t need to watch her to make sure she was safe anymore. She was Ladybug, she could take care of herself in a fight…
But then a thought occurred to him: she couldn’t detect him when he had been watching her earlier. He bit his lip anxiously. Sure, he was trained to evade detection but did he really want to chance it? In a place like Gotham the ability to tell when you’re being watched is an absolute must.
Okay. Fine. He’d watch her just a little longer…
Marinette frowned when her phone rang while she was doing some late-night work.
“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, M’lady?”
A wide grin stretched across her face and she fell back in her bed. “Chaton! And here I was thinking you would never call!”
Adrien laughed. “Well, our time zones don’t exactly match up and I forgot that your sleep schedule is less of a schedule and more of a suggestion.”
“Fuck you, too, then.”
He laughed and she could hear him shifting around on the other side. She heard him zip something up on the other side and she lit up. “When’re you coming over?” He sighed and that was all it took to let her know that he had bad news. The momentary silence afterwards as he tried to figure out what to say was a good indication, too.
“I can’t, unfortunately. The Son of Hawkmoth moving away right after he gets jailed isn’t a good look. The United States Government isn’t that eager to have me, either.”
She wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Just steal the horse miraculous from Fu and come over illegally.”
He snorted. “Yeah, no, straight up disappearing is even more suspicious, thanks.”
Marinette frowned. She supposed that made sense…
She pulled her cat plush over so she could rest her head against it. “It’s so boring without you.”
“You’re making new friends, right?” He questioned, concerned. “I saw on the news that you’ve met the other vigilantes already.”
“Yeah, I guess… but they clearly don’t trust me.”
“Well, did you trust me when we started out?”
“So give them time. They’ll realize you’re the best person on Earth soon enough.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, obviously. They’d have to be blind not to notice that.”
“Well, one of them is called Batman --.”
“I’m hanging up on you.”
He laughed at her and she smiled as she burrowed into her plush.
“Thanks, Chaton.”
“Anytime. Now, go to sleep.”
She rolled her eyes and hung up on him without promising him anything.
He leaned against the concrete of the roof, head on his arms to prevent scratching up his chin as he watched her through the window. He kind of worried about her having the blinds open like that, anyone could look in at her, but at least she closed it at night.
Still, he couldn’t deny that it certainly made things easier for him. She did most things by window light -- to save electricity, he theorized -- so he didn’t have to work all that hard to keep track of her.
Currently, she was working on stitching some pieces of an outfit. Her tongue poked out of her mouth a little when she concentrated, he had learned. A tiny part of him wondered if she did that as Ladybug, too, and he just couldn’t see it under her mask.
He kind of wished he could ask. Maybe one day he would (if they ever got close enough for him to reveal he’d been watching her without her knowledge, of course).
His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts, and he groaned to himself as he synced his earbuds and picked up.
“Yeah, B, what do you need?”
Listen, Marinette liked her job. She had the privilege of designing most of the outfits she did and that was a lot of fun -- certainly more fun than working solely on commissions -- but… sometimes she just wants to be told what to do. Artist’s Block is real and it fucking sucks.
Thankfully, Gotham gave quite a bit of inspiration. The difference between Gotham and Paris was striking. Paris was pristine; lots of tourists meant keeping the city in a constant state of newness, all bright colors and surfaces so clean you can see your reflection in them. Gotham, on the other hand, felt exceptionally lived in; graffiti, decaying buildings, cracked sidewalks…
She found a nice vantage point that overlooked the city and looked out over the horizon. That was another difference between the two: the height of buildings in Gotham was far more varied than those of Paris. It was more interesting to look at, she thought.
(It had been a point of annoyance at night as she could no longer jump from rooftop to rooftop with ease, but that’s not the point here.)
Maybe she could do something inspired by all the different heights. Audrey would probably like a dress like that.
She smiled walking to a nearby gargoyle. Red graffiti dubbed them Charlie, and who was she to not use his preferred name?
“Hello, Charlie, may I sit on you?” She joked quietly.
Charlie did not answer, not that she really expected him to.
She perched herself on the gargoyle’s back and pulled her sketchbook from a secret pocket in her leather jacket. She hummed tunelessly as she sketched out the shape.
Layers of different lengths -- and different colors, too, of course, she thought as she pulled out some colored pens (what’s the point of different layers if you don’t make it rainbow?) -- and oh it definitely had to trail a little in the back for the drama…
Artist’s block hit her like a too-high wall on patrols as she stared at where the bodice needed to be. What should she do? Obviously it needed to be relatively simple otherwise she risked the dress being an eyesore but…
It was just her luck that the moment she came to a decision about what to do for the bodice and accessories is the moment the first water droplet hit her sketchbook. She pulled her gaze to the sky and noticed the storm cloud overhead.
Shit, it was starting to rain.
She looked back down at her sketchbook, irritation spiking under her skin.
Option one: tough it out and continue drawing so she doesn’t risk forgetting the idea she’d had.
Option two: don’t risk her outfit (or her health, she guessed) and just head inside like a sane person.
… Marinette chose option one. She wouldn’t be herself without the occasional bad decision.
She drew her jacket over her head and hunched over her sketchbook as she continued sketching out her design.
Except, after a few minutes, she didn’t feel the beat of the rain on her jacket. She blinked a few times because she could still hear the rain nearby and she started to wonder if she had died somehow before she caught the sound of someone moving just out of her seeing range.
She turned her head to see a man holding an umbrella over her head, her jacket falling back to rest on her shoulders.
She gave him a once over. It was a little paranoid, she could admit, but she was in Gotham; it paid to be cautious. He was wearing a thick trench coat and gloves, which was a big red flag. He also had open posture -- more open than was natural, actually -- what with his slight slouch and hands spread wide in a somewhat placating gesture. The only good thing was that he was keeping a respectful distance, even standing a bit in the rain in order to avoid crowding her.
… well, he had an umbrella, at least.
She gripped the gargoyle tighter with her legs just in case he decided he wanted to try and push her, then turned to face him more.
“Hi,” she said carefully.
“You know, it’s illegal to be up here,” he said, flashing her an almost blindingly white smile.
She grinned. “You’re breaking the law, too, then.”
“Yeah. I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me.”
She reached a pinky out and, after a second’s hesitation, he returned the gesture.
Deal made, he wiped some of the water away with gloved fingers and took a seat beside her.
He clearly trusted her more than she trusted him, even allowing his legs to hang over the side of the building. She wondered why, vaguely, but she couldn’t exactly go and ask...
So, instead she smiled and said: “Thanks for the help. Water stains are a bitch to get out of leather.”
“You’re welcome, but I really can’t believe you went out without an umbrella in this city of all places.”
She shrugged sheepishly. “I’m a little new here, to be honest.”
She watched him carefully out of the corner of his eyes. The man frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by her laughter.
“I’m kidding, I’m not stupid enough to genuinely tell someone that. I was just going for the Manic Pixie Dream Girl aesthetic.”
His shoulders relaxed in a way that would have been imperceptible if she hadn’t been trained to check body language. She let herself relax her grip on the gargoyle a little as well; he had been concerned about her right then, he was probably pretty safe. Safe enough to not strain her legs too much, at least.
“Well, I do like your aesthetic,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “The Manic Pixie Dream Girl stuff, my outfit, or what I’m drawing?”
“All of it. But mostly the outfit.”
She felt a faint blush rise to her face but she brushed him off with a: “Yeah, thanks, but I’m not about to start taking fashion advice from a guy in a trenchcoat.”
He gasped and brought his free hand to his chest in mock offense. “Excuse you, this is peak Gotham fashion!”
“It’s shady, that’s what it is.”
“That’s what Gotham fashion is!”
She couldn’t have rolled her eyes harder if she tried. And she did try.
Her gaze fell back to her work and she sighed as she pulled out her pens and started working on finishing up her sketch.
“So, what’re you up here for?” She asked because she didn’t want to risk him getting bored and leaving with the umbrella.
“Hm? Oh, I do photography in my spare time. Figured I’d scope out some new areas.”
“Know all the best places in Gotham?”
“You have no idea.” The man flashed her a grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone in person, though, so I figured I’d get some update shots.”
“Well, if we both need to go sightseeing around Gotham for our things, why not do it together?”
He raised an eyebrow at her but she could see the way his lips twitched downwards with concern. “Trust me that much already? We’ve just met.”
“Well, you seem like a nice guy...” She smirked. “And I could totally beat your ass.”
He scoffed and unbuttoned his trenchcoat to prove to her that he did, in fact, have muscles hidden beneath all those layers and she laughed before she noticed the shirt he was wearing.
Holy shit. She’d made that shirt. He was wearing one of her shirts. She could see the gold stitching partially hidden beneath his collar, and fuck maybe she was concerned about all the wrong things.
Her eyes narrowed in on him just slightly. He clearly wasn’t actively hiding the shirt and didn’t seem concerned that he had shown her, which meant he:
a) didn’t know she was MDC,
b) saw her as just another artist,
or c) was showing her on purpose so she could make an informed decision about being his friend.
So… he didn’t seem to be a threat to her.
Maybe she could do some checking up on him, though, just to be safe.
She smiled. “I realize I never got your name. Probably would be a problem if we’re going to be spending more time together from now on.”
He grinned. “Yeah, it’s kinda hard to be friends with someone if you don’t even know their name. I’m Tim Drake.”
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said, watching his expression carefully.
He remained impassive. She wasn’t sure what that meant -- or if it meant anything at all, for that matter.
She pulled out her phone and offered it to him, taking the umbrella so he could type his number in with both hands. That done, she stuck the phone back in her pocket and smiled up at him.
“I’m stealing your umbrella, by the way,” she informed him, grip tightening on the handle in case he tried to take it back from her.
He grinned and made no move to do so. “If you must. Can you at least walk me inside the building before you run off with it?”
She giggled. “I guess I can do that, yes.”
It had been a long time since Tim had fanboyed this hard.
If he was any younger, he would have fallen back on his bed and squealed like a person in those old movies. As it were, he still wore a dopey smile.
He had MDC’s number! And not her work number, because he’d already had that, this was her real number!
And, even cooler, she might just let him go with her to get inspiration! Who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to watch one of their favorite artists do their thing?!
… oh, yeah, also the protection thing, obviously. That was the whole reason he was doing this, after all.
It would be so much easier to protect her if he went out with her on these excursions. Just being around men tended to ward off potential assailants. It was perfect!
Which meant he wouldn’t have any reason to follow her for her own protection anymore…
Wait, what about when she needed to go out for chores like groceries? She’d still need to be safe for that! Gotham is a scary place! What if someone tried to follo -- what if someone tried to mug her or something dangerous like that? No, she still needed his help!
Yeah, no, he has to do this. It’s for her own safety.
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 14 days ago
A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 52
Nino had a reputation. He was the nice, approachable miraculous holder. He hadn’t gone into it trying to make that persona, but he definitely didn’t mind.
After all, when you’re ‘nice’ then you’re also assumed to be ‘stupid’ and underestimation was always helpful.
So, he kept it up. Ironically, keeping up a ‘friendly but a little slow’ persona takes a lot of calculation. No sharp points or rough edges in his costume. Sticking around after akumas to make sure everyone is dealing with it okay. Maintaining his approachableness by not having any official merch made (he only did it once, and that was only at a Make A Wish kid’s request). Practicing smiles in mirrors and hours poring over joke books for bad puns…
Yeah. It was a lot of work, but it came in handy sometimes to have people think he was stupid.
Like now.
He scrolled through his photo roll under the guise of looking for a specific video for TikTok, but really he was watching Adrien out of the corner of his eyes.
Adrien had been acting... off. He was more energetic, constantly preening by touching his hair or checking himself in every reflective surface. On top of that, he was being secretive and choosing his words more.
Normally, Nino would have just assumed it was due to him being around his father again. The energy was just the hypervigilance abused kids had, the preening was because he was going to get back into modeling soon, the secrecy was to make sure he didn’t anger his father. He could tell that’s what Alya and Chloe thought it was, they casted worried glances his way whenever they noticed, but...
One thing couldn’t be explained away: the pin on his shirt.
Nino sighed and closed his eyes, thinking. Adrien was clearly trying to hide it, it was barely visible under the folds of his hoodie, but why? Marinette had already texted everyone not to question it because it belonged to his mother back in the day. That was fine, but then why was he hiding it? Was he that hurt by Marinette’s joke the other day?
And why did he feel like he’d seen it before?
Nino shook his head slightly and opened his eyes again, looking down at his phone and uploading the video.
It was short, just a few seconds.
Alya, in costume, smiled over at Nino.
“I think that went well. We make a good team.”
The video zoomed in on a spot over her shoulder where Adrien, Marinette, and Chloe were all arguing animatedly.
TikTok account updated, he smiled and pocketed his phone. “Ready?”
“We’ve all been ready for ages, you’re the one who took forever,” said Chloe, but there was no real bite in her tone.
He sighed. “Whatever, what’s first?”
“Well, since tomorrow is Christmas we need a simpler topic… so: balancing trays,” said Adrien.
Nino and Alya shared confused looks.
“We… we can carry trays already.”
“Can you carry five at once? Because that’s the average for events like this,” Chloe said.
… shit.
Nino loved his friends. He really did.
But he loved them considerably less than he usually did at that moment.
He was learning to have a lot more respect for waiters, at least.
It didn’t help that Chloe told them they would have to pay for anything they dropped. He doubted that it was anything but motivation, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a little bit wary of letting anything fall.
At least he had some kind of experience due to helping out Marinette at her parent’s bakery that one time, though. Alya, it seemed, wasn’t so lucky.
Alya, it seemed, had been flattened, actually.
He trudged over, his arms aching under the strain of holding them out for so long, and nudged her with his foot. The tray on her head wobbled precariously as she lifted her gaze to meet his.
“I vote we kill the rich kids.”
“Agreed,” he said. “But we’ll have to be up to do that.”
She grumbled a little and slowly started getting to her feet, much to the two rich kids’ horror.
… they were lucky that the two of them were bogged down still and therefore were easy to get away from.
Nino didn’t celebrate Christmas. He was Muslim, there wasn’t really any reason for him to do so. That didn’t mean he didn’t accept Marinette’s cookies or wish his friends a Merry Christmas through text, he just didn’t join in on the festivities. It would have felt weird and wrong for him, so he was happy to curl up by the fire and to watch the video that his friends had uploaded to TikTok.
It was a snowball fight. Much to everyone’s dismay, every snowball they sent Marinette’s way dissolved before it could hit her… so they ganged up on her to push her in a snowbank. The video zoomed in on Marinette’s hand popping out of the snowbank to grab the person nearest her -- Chloe -- and drag them in as well. Fortunately and unfortunately, she managed to grab hold of Adrien and Alya on the way down. The four of them were a tangle of limbs and snow by the end of the video.
The next day was far less fun for everyone involved: how to deal with bitchy guests.
Adrien may as well have not been there, to be honest. He’d tried to help out but then he’d stuttered a lot while trying to call them anything worse than ‘annoying idiots’. He settled to sit on Marinette’s bed (they’d stolen her room for no reason other than because they could) and snuggle the giant cat plush she had.
Which left only Chloe to bully them.
Alya was, unsurprisingly, very good at lying and acting in general. Nino wasn’t, but that was also to be expected. HE didn’t get to be magically enhanced by a god.
Chloe turned to him. “My steak is clearly undercooked! Look at it, it’s pink!”
“It’s steak, ma’am. That’s how steak is.”
“How rude! Don’t you know who I am? I could have you fired!”
“PLEASE do.”
Chloe’s composure broke a little and she took a moment to school her face back into a scowl. “Where is your manager?”
“Somewhere. If you find him, tell me. I have no clue who he is.”
That got Chloe to break character completely. She laughed. “You suck.”
“Well, I AM gay.”
Adrien sat up in the bed. “YOU’RE GAY?!”
Alya raised her eyebrows. “Remember that one interview where the interviewer asked how they could all be better allies like him and he just laughed for a good minute?”
“I followed it up by saying ‘Yeah… I’m an ALLY’ and then laughing even harder. I literally couldn’t have been any more obvious without kissing a guy on screen.”
Adrien could only shrug sheepishly.
Alya snickered. “I don’t know why Master Fu ever thought putting a bunch of gay disasters together would go well.”
“Hey! I’m not a disaster!” Tried Chloe.
She got many skeptical looks.
“Chloe, you’ve lived with your crush for five months while knowing she liked you back and you still haven’t made a move. You’re the biggest disaster of all of us.”
Chloe didn’t have a retort for that so she cleared her throat and glared halfheartedly at Nino. “Alright, c’mon, you’re not going to learn to be a better waiter if we don’t get back on subject.”
On day four Marinette had done fittings for them both (Chloe manned the counter at the bakery, and when people asked she would tell them that she owed an old classmate).
Nino frowned as she worked at his sleeves. “Is it normal to stitch stuff while people are still wearing it?”
She moved the needles in her mouth to the side so she could tell him: “No, but I don’t have a lot of time before Chloe burns the bakery down.”
“She’s not doing any of the baking.”
“She’d find a way regardless.”
She turned away from him to deal with Alya and made an annoyed whining sound in the back of her throat. “Stop moving or I’m going to stab you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s a warning. If you keep moving while I’m stitching I’m going to end up stabbing you with a needle. So stop.”
“... oh. Okay.”
“Adrien come over here and hold Alya’s sleeve for me.”
He frowned a little but he walked over and, after hearing her list the same instructions five times, copied her hold so she could stitch something without risking stabbing her in the arm.
It was here that Alya saw the pin. Her eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “I know that from somewhere.”
“Oh?” Said Adrien. “That’s because --.” He stopped suddenly. Nino frowned at the brief annoyance passing over his friend’s face, but then it was gone and he managed little more than a shrug. “My mom was famous.”
Well THAT wasn’t suspicious at all.
“No, I don’t think --.”
Unfortunately, fate wasn’t smiling on them because Chloe chose that exact moment to come rushing up the stairs.
Marinette winced. “Yeah, that happens sometimes.”
“The fuck do you MEAN it ‘happens sometimes’?” Said Nino, more than a little concerned.
“I’m just glad it isn’t a race thing if it happened to Chloe, too,” she said absently. She walked to her desk and picked up a wet wipe, offering it to Chloe. “Here.”
Chloe frowned. “I worked really hard on my makeup, I don’t want to mess it up. It’ll be fine.”
… the next day Chloe was sick.
@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali-art @ultimatetornshipper @blissful-passing @not-a-pushover @that-one-scared-gay
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 16 days ago
A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 51
Alya was about ten seconds away from going insane.
She had gone through the files of every single person in the right height range in all of Paris. She’d found six of them. That was fine and to be expected.
What WASN’T fine was that none of them had any connections to the area that Hawkmoth’s akumas came from. And Hawkmoth HAD to have connections of some kind, because throwing them off wouldn’t be worth the amount of time it would take to get there every time he needed to create an akuma -- pretty much everyone would have gotten over what had made them sad or angry by the time he got there, not to mention the time it would take to send the akuma over.
So, yeah, he had to have some sort of connection. But where?
She started with houses and jobs and found nothing. Then she moved onto spouses, onto friends, onto their kids… nothing.
Okay, fine, acquaintances…
Nope. Not even acquaintances.
Before long she was sitting at her desk, a digital conspiracy board for each of them. Unfortunately, the only thing the conspiracy boards were doing was proving why each of the people couldn’t be Hawkmoth. Two of them were the wrong skin color. The other four had solid alibis for every time Hawkmoth appeared.
She rested her head in her hands, trying to think.
Alright, fine, maybe she missed one of the files. She started flipping through the papers again, searching for the ones within the right height range.
Aha! She’d missed one!
She ran back to her computer eagerly. She had the answer! This was finally it!
… they were the wrong gender. At least there was a little variety.
She threw the file down with the others and banged her head against her desk so hard she heard some of her knick knacks rattle. She was missing something. She knew it. The answer was right in front of her, she just couldn’t see it.
And then an idea came to her. A whisper in the back of her head that made her skin crawl.
Master Fu said Adrien knows Hawkmoth, if she followed him for long enough maybe she’ll be able to figure out who it is…
She scowled and looked down at the fox miraculous hanging from her neck. She clutched the pendant in her fingers and heavily considered throwing the damn thing out the window.
She was NOT going to stalk Adrien again. It hadn’t been right the first time, it would be just as bad the second time. Worse, even, because at the house he could at least have a reasonable expectation that people could barge into his room at any moment and therefore had a level of caution, but at his own home he was supposed to feel safe. Invading his privacy like THAT... no amount of turning away when he changed could make that okay.
As if he knew what she was thinking about and wanted to make her feel even guiltier for letting the thought cross her mind, her phone started blaring the Nyan Cat song.
She didn’t have the energy to pick her head up again. Instead, she reached her hand around the table blindly until she felt the familiar ridges of her phone case. She swiped her finger along the phone screen until it vibrated a little and brought the phone to her ear. “Yeah?”
“Hi hi!” Adrien’s voice filtered through her phone, far too cheery for how she was feeling.
She shook her head just slightly. “I already said I would do it, you don’t have to keep calling to make sure I’m going to help you.”
“Is it illegal to check up on my friends?”
Her heart warmed a little at that and she had to fight to keep the scowl on her face. “Don’t be such a ray of sunshine. I’m frustrated over here.”
“Oh, don’t be frustrated! I’ll cheer you up! Um…”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, it's not enough for Hawkmoth to get involved, you don’t need to bother.”
“What? No. I just don’t want you to be upset because I care about you!”
Alya knew it was probably a calculated response to try and cheer her up. Didn’t mean that it wasn’t working. She banged her free hand on the desk a few times to try and help herself keep her composure, but she ended up smiling anyway.
“Asshole,” she muttered, pushing herself up in her chair.
“Ten euros,” he chirped.
Her eyebrows knit in confusion. “Ten euros? Why?”
He giggled. “Oops, sorry, habit. Wrong person.”
“How is THAT a habit --?”
“We implemented a swear jar for Marinette. It’s not going very well.”
She grinned. “I can imagine.”
There was a beat where he hesitated and then he sighed. “Do you want to talk about what got you frustrated earlier or…?”
“Just struggling a little with the Hawkmoth stuff. He’s supposed to be within a certain height range but all of the people I found didn’t match up.”
He hesitated, just slightly, before he smiled and said: “Don’t worry about that. We’re going to the Gala so we can get more information anyways, you can measure people there. Maybe the papers you have are wrong or something.”
She rolled her eyes. “You just want me to work on the Master Fu stuff instead.”
“... was it that obvious?”
“I can hear you lying through the phone.”
… how could she hear him pouting through the phone, too? Was that possible?
“I have faith that we can all figure it out eventually, but for the Fu stuff… the public will believe us about Hawkmoth, the police won’t believe us about Fu without proof.”
“Fine. I’ll go spy on Master Fu for you.”
He laughed a little. “Thanks, Alya. I owe you one.”
“Don’t need to. Tell me what it's for and if the reason is good enough you won’t owe me.”
There was a beat as he thought about it and then he sighed. “Fine. I don’t like the idea of him getting the miraculi back after everything’s done, I don’t think he’d use it wisely. Look at what happened with Hawkmoth -- heck, look at what happened to US. I need blackmail, hopefully that will be enough to get him to leave us and the miraculi alone.”
She considered it for a few moments before she broke into a grin.
“Congrats, Adrikins, looks like you don’t owe me.”
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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 18 days ago
A Miraculous TikTok Account
Part 50
Marinette wanted many things. To have a healthy sleep schedule again. To defeat Hawkmoth already. To have less demanding customers...
What she did NOT want was her annoying rich friends dropping by her house at seven in the morning to teach her how to deal with rich people.
She felt a finger poke her face and jolt her out of her nap but damn it she was still tired and she was not intending on moving for another fifty years if she could help it.
Another poke. And then another.
Pleeeeease go away, she thought as she burrowed deeper into her blankets.
Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.
“I don’t think it’s working, Chloe,” said Adrien.
“It is. She’s awake, just ignoring us.”
Poke. Poke.
Po --.
Marinette grabbed the hand and opened a bleary eye to see two blonds standing over her. She opened her other eye in order to glare at them properly but, instead of running for safety like people with self-preservation instincts are prone to do, they just broke into grins.
“Good morning,” cooed Adrien.
“How the fuck did you get in my house,” said Marinette, finally releasing the hand and pushing herself up to sit.
“Your mom let us in.”
She grumbled a little in Mandarin. Chloe and Adrien understood what she was saying, if the amused smiles on their faces meant anything, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she rolled out of bed and trudged around getting changed.
An hour later she had been fed and clothed and given enough coffee to be able to wake up some.
Now that she was awake… she turned to glare at her friends. “I hate you guys.”
Adrien stretched lazily, unperturbed by her apparent hatred of them, and it was here that Marinette noticed the brooch on his shirt. Her head tipped to the side the slightest bit.
“Weird choice. Is bad fashion sense just a family trait?”
He gave her a confused frown until she nodded to the brooch and then he puffed out an awkward laugh. “Yeah. I was going through the house looking for places we could all transform in during the gala and I found this. It used to belong to my mom.”
Marinette pressed her lips together thinly. She would like to take back her joke.
She couldn’t so she flashed awkward finger guns and abruptly switched to the next topic:
“I really don’t need this. I deal with rich bitches for my job all the time. I’ll be fine.”
Chloe winced. “See, it’s you calling them ‘rich b-s’ that worries us.”
“You can’t swear in front of people,” said Adrien. “Which means… we’re implementing a swear jar.”
“Really?” Said Marinette, suddenly tired all over again. “I’m not a child.”
“We need to get you to stop swearing. If we have to use negative punishment to get you to stop then so be it.”
“Fuck out of here with your Skinner nonsense.”
“Not nonsense. Ten euros in the swear jar,” said Adrien.
“Ten,” confirmed Chloe, reaching into her bag and pulling out a jar. “Pay up.”
Marinette clicked her tongue and found her purse. However reluctantly, she dropped ten euros in the jar. She got the feeling that the jar would be very full by the end of the two weeks.
She gave the two a tentative smile. “Ready to start?”
The first day was dedicated to silverware. You’ve read that right. A whole day. Dedicated to fucking SILVERWARE.
Who needs this many spoons? This many forks? Why did they have so many names? WHY?
She glared at the diagram Adrien and Chloe had drawn for her.
“This is some white people shit.”
“Ten euros,” said Adrien absently.
Marinette scowled as she dropped another few euros into the jar. “It is! It’s so dumb!”
“It’s important to rich people. Now, what is this?”
“... a spoon.”
“It’s a salad spoon.”
“Rich people.”
Marinette was going to punch someone. Preferably the corpse of whoever had decided to make so many different types of silverware.
“Alright, now try this one.”
She looked up at the weird three pronged fork Chloe was pointing at. “Trident.”
“Are you even taking this seriously?” Asked Chloe exasperatedly.
“Yeah, but I’m not convinced that whoever thought of this was. What is it?”
“Lemon fork,” answered Adrien.
“FUCK,” she hissed.
Adrien grinned. “Ten euros.”
She scowled at him and threw some more money at the jar.
Day two was posture. It turns out hunching over a sewing machine does not do wonders for your back.
She added a lot of money to the swear jar that day. Her bank account was crying. Flies were practically flying out of her wallet. And yet she needed to swear. How else could she convey her frustration?
Adrien smirked. “This is the reason you can’t lift much.”
Marinette clicked her tongue. “I doubt there’s that much of a difference.”
“I can bench about 200 kilograms,” said Chloe.
Adrien opened his mouth to tell her she had to pay the swear jar. She threw the money at him before he could get a word out.
The third day they went over the different designers and what each one meant about a person’s social status. This went by pretty quickly because Marinette was already well versed in the fashion world. She was pretty sure that they were giving her a break because the previous two days had been so draining, and she was secretly grateful for it.
… the gratefulness didn’t last. The next day was learning the name of every rich person that was set to attend and their known partners. A hundred invitees and another fifty or so plus ones. Marinette thought she was dying.
Marinette rested her head in her hands as she stared at the newest name on the board.
“How do I even SAY that?”
“I’ll give it to you.”
Day five was backhanded compliments and other passive-aggressive jabs.
“An oldie but a goodie is: ‘I love how you’ll just wear anything’,” said Chloe.
Adrien nodded. “I like ‘I don’t care what others say about you, you’re alright in my book,’ personally.”
“Oh! And then there’s the most devastating thing you can say to someone you’ve already met: ‘Hi, nice to meet you!’”
“When I was a kid I got away with asking a really skinny person when their baby was due to mess with them.”
While these backhanded compliments were very useful in a place like Paris, Marinette didn’t really get why they needed so many or why rich people in particular were so fond of them. So, she dropped some money in the swear jar preemptively and asked: “Why not just call someone a bitch be done with it?”
“Lose opportunities,” said Adrien with a frown.
“That’s dumb. Who wants opportunities with people they don’t like?”
Chloe shrugged.
Marinette frowned. She was kind of regretting the fact that her type was rich kids with parental issues and poor social skills. If this is what being a rich person was like she kinda didn’t want it.
But then Chloe grinned and rested an arm around her shoulders. “I like to tell people ‘Your new haircut looks so much better than your old one.’ Especially if their new haircut is bad. No matter what they do they lose.”
Marinette giggled.
Maybe dating a rich kid wouldn’t be SO bad...
Day six discussed how much they were going to be able to eat while there.
To sum up the lesson: nothing.
“That’s fucked up,” mumbled Marinette with a frown.
“Ten euros,” said Adrien.
She threw her entire purse into the swear jar.
Is it possible to be excited for something while also seriously dreading it?
Because that was how Marinette felt about day seven: faking a relationship with Chloe.
She tried not to freeze up as Chloe rested an arm around her waist. They had always been affectionate, why was it suddenly so hard? It should have been the same, and yet… with the new context of them ‘dating’ Marinette’s heart couldn’t seem to stop spasming in her chest.
Marinette swallowed thickly before leaning up and pressing a kiss… to Chloe’s cheek. Her head tipped forward to rest against her shoulder and the two of them laughed awkwardly. The arm around her waist slipped up and the other wrapped around her and her laughter became a little more relaxed as she hugged back.
“We can probably get away with just kissing each other on the cheek,” said Marinette quietly.
Chloe nodded slightly. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to do anything you weren’t comfortable with, anyways.”
‘But are YOU uncomfortable?’ she screamed mentally.
She forced a smile and pulled back. “There are other ways of showing you’re dating.”
“Like…?” Said Adrien.
Marinette fought not to jump. She’d forgotten he was there. She pressed her lips together thinly as she tried to think, before grinning and flashing finger guns. “Pet names.”
“Gotta be super gross and embarrassing, obviously. I’ll call you…” Chloe trailed off, unsure.
“Honey?” Offered Adrien with a slight smirk.
“NO,” complained Marinette.
Chloe laughed a little. “No no no, he has a point. It’s perfect.”
She groaned. “Fine. I’ll call you something even stupider like… like… like SWEETIE.”
Adrien snickered. “I don’t think these are the wins you seem to think they are.”
“Oh, fuck off, Adrien,” said Chloe.
Marinette gasped and turned to look at her. “Oh, sweetie, you swore? For me?”
She pretended to swoon, hand to her forehead. Chloe caught her with ease.
“Of course, honey, anything for you,” she cooed, leaning forward to nuzzle her nose against hers jokingly.
The pair of them smiled at each other and Marinette realized with a start that their faces were still only a few centimeters apart. Heat rose to her cheeks slowly and Chloe smiled, taking the hand from her forehead and pressing a kiss to her palm.
She hesitated, face burning red, before twisting the hand in Chloe’s to intertwine their fingers and then pulling back.
Marinette turned to Adrien and gave him a smile. “How was that for two people in love?”
Adrien went from ecstatic to exhausted in about half a second.
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