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comics-and-fanworks · 1 year

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Idea for you class salt after the class is out of school and in the real world.

Marinette's phone gets broken so badly she needs a new number. She only tells a few her new number no one from her old class has it.

Some of her old class goes to bakery to ask why she hasn't called them back when they called her. They get told her phone got broken and all that.

The class member goes okay tell her to call me when it gets fixed or replaced it is important.

Only her parents forget and when said class member comes back later is told that but is also told Marinette has a new phone now. But not a new number.

Classmate rushes out to call her so she can fix their problems like always only it goes to voicemail as the person whom has her old number is like I don't know this person calling me. It goes on and on till it gets bad and the person with the new number goes to the police with worry over the threats they are getting.

Should I be worried for myself or the person they are trying to reach

It comes to a head when alya talks max into hacking the location of the phone and they go to have a talk with Marinette only it's not her

Thank you so much for the request! It's my first one so I went a bit overboard and wrote a lot! So sorry it took me so long to get to this! I'm taking organic chemistry over the winter so that has been kicking my ass. The first draft was deleted, so hopefully, this is a better version! Thank you for your patience with me!

TW: swearing, minor threats of violence

~~~~~~

"Well shit," Marinette's day was already bad, but this was just throwing salt into the wound. She had started her day with her phone blowing up with requests from her (former) classmates and friends. Ever since she returned from College they had gotten right back to their usual B.S. "Mari I need a new dress for a meeting with Prince Ali," "Marinette! I told my team you'd design some sick jackets for us and you'd have them done by our next swim meet!" "Girl! I need three new outfits! Adrien and Lila are taking me with them to a fashion show and this is my chance to interview some top designers! Oh sorry, you're not invited." She was up to her neck in demands and requests, to the point she was seriously considering closing her commissions, not like her former friends paid her anyways. THEN Hawkmoth decided that she hadn't suffered enough, she had to deal with Volpina, Frozer, AND Prime Queen and it was not even lunchtime. Volpina was easy enough to take down, why Lila was akumatized is anyone's guess. Frozer was a bit trickier, and since Chat had no plans of showing up she had to bring in Ryuko and Viperion. The trio ended up fighting Prime Queen, who was convinced that LadyNoir would still happen and the Cat Hero's absence was due to a lover's quarrel. Marinette was finally able to return to the alleyway she had transformed in... only to find her shattered phone. It must've fallen out of her suit's pocket (she had redesigned her costume since returning to Paris, she wanted a more mature, fashionable look) when she was rushing to get to the battle.

"Great! Just Perfect! This is just what I need now!" She sighed picking up the shattered phone. There was no way this was salvageable, the impact of hitting the ground had practically broken the thing in half. Tikki knew her chosen was stressed, between being Ladybug, being the Guardian of the Miraculous, building a blossoming fashion empire from scratch, and having to deal with her former friends' constant demands it was only a matter of time before she lost Marinette to Hawkmoth's akumatization. The goddess recognized that this was just the opportunity she needed to help her chosen, and she would start by helping Marinette cut off the people hurting her most. "Marinette! I have an idea! Why don't you get two phones? One can be your work phone, and the other can be your personal one. That way you won't have to worry about your work stuff getting lost in your personal stuff. You can get new numbers for both too!" Marinette looked at the Kwamii with some confusion, "Why would I need to change my number?" Tikki sighed, "Marinette, they haven't been very good friends to you, they haven't even been your friends for a while now. Think about it, your former classmates don't talk to you unless they want something, they expect you to use your connections to benefit them but won't return the favor, and they promise you and your time to other people without your consent. That isn't right babybug, friends don't treat friends like that. They don't even pay you for your time, effort, and the cost of materials!" Marinette knew that Tikki was right, but she was still hesitant, "But..." "Would Kagami text you expecting you to make her something and refuse to pay? Would Luka text you telling you that he promised another musician you'd make their wardrobe by their next concert? Would Kagami and Luka use your work to get ahead, and then refuse to extend the favor? No, they wouldn't! Those are healthy friends babybug, you can give them your new number, I know they'll understand!" Marinette thought about it for a moment and decided that Tikki was right. With a renewed conviction she made her way to the nearest tech store to begin to take control of her life again.

Adrien was frustrated, he had been texting and calling Marinette all afternoon but she wasn't answering! That wasn't like his princess, so something had to be going on, but there wasn't an Akuma on the news, Ladybug, Viperion, and Ryuko defeated the three earlier today. He did feel a little guilty that he didn't go to help, but he was busy! He had modeling shoots all morning and then joined Lila and Alya for lunch discussing their upcoming trip. The topic eventually turned to the Wayne Gala that was approaching as well, with both models confirming they had been invited. Well, Lila had only been invited because she was an official Gabriel representative, but she didn't need to know that. The brunette was currently making a big show of bringing Alya as her plus one, which brings Adrien back to his current predicament. When he arrived home, his father told him that he had to invite Marinette Dupain-cheng as his plus one no matter what. Both Agrestes had been shocked when she had rejected Gabriel's offer to join his company, but her answer had been reassuring, "I greatly appreciate your offer but cannot accept it in good conscious. Adrien has been my friend for years and I would hate to potentially harm his, the company's, and my reputation by accepting. I am worried it could be misconstrued as me gaining the position, not by my own talent, skill, or merit but because I had a connection to someone with considerable sway." His father didn't seem to pick up that the last bit was about Lila, but seemed content. In fact, Gabriel had complimented Marinette's business savvy and remarked how good it would be if she followed in his footsteps by building a fashion house from scratch. He had mused that it would be even better to have the two great fashion houses merging together instead of just taking Marinette in as a designer. Now that Miracle Design Clothing (MDC) has risen to compete with the likes of Gabriel and Style Queen, his father had decided now was the time to begin winning Marinette over.

Adrien would never admit it to his father, but he had his own motivations for being so on board with the plan to invite Marinette to the Wayne Gala. They were now in their mid-20s, and everyone in Paris wanted to know everything about the Agreste Heir's love life. Lila had hinted multiple times that Adrien was dating her, so much so that the media was beginning to spin her narrative. However, Adrien wasn't entirely out of the running yet. He knew that the Wayne Galas were always a media frenzy so if he, a fashion empire heir, showed up to the Gala with Marinette, a rising star in the fashion world, on his arm the media would quickly assume they were dating. It was a brilliant plan, Marinette was charming, beautiful, intelligent, and incredibly talented. His father held her in high regard, and he knew that if Gabriel approved of him dating anyone, it would be Marinette. Besides Adrien had a trick up his sleeve, he knew Marinette was in love with him, or at least that was what Alya had told him. She told him about Marinette's crush right before the ravenette left for college, hoping to embarrass her former best friend. Their old class still believed what Lila had said about Marinette being a bully. In their get-togethers they would often mock the designer's success, reassuring Lila that the only reason they talked to her was to get stuff from Marinette. While it upset him a little to know Marinette was being taken advantage of, a larger part of him felt like she deserved it since she didn't listen to his advice about Lila. Oh well, it was her own fault. Adrien was brought out of his thoughts by Alya's shriek.

"OH MY GOSH! The Waynes just announced the Designer they got their Gala outfits from, and it's Marinette!" Adrien choked down a laugh at the sour expression Lila wore, as Alya continued to read, "The article says that Marinette and Timothy Drake Wayne met while they were in college, and he thought her designs were so incredible that he referred her to Bruce Wayne himself! She's considered a family friend and received their order along with an invitation to the Gala! Why didn't she tell me any of this??" 'Maybe because you only talk to her when you want something' Adrien thought as their former classmates began to text. Alya was trying to call Marinette, most likely to scream at her for not letting Alya in on such a big story, but she couldn't get through. "Ugh! Marinette is ignoring me! Who does that stupid bitch think she is?" Lila's eyes sparkled as she saw a chance to jump in and control the narrative, "I know right? You'd think she'd be more grateful after I introduced her to Timmy- oh I've said too much," She batted her eyelashes and made a show of covering her mouth. "YOU introduced Marinette to the Waynes? Girl you've gotta give me the details!" "Well, Marinette was going to college in Milan, and I happened to be there for a modeling shoot," That part was actually true, Adrien was sick and couldn't make that shoot, "We happened to bump into each other at a cafè, and Marinette apologized to me for how awful she was to me in our youth. She told me that the only reason she did what she did was that she was jealous and felt threatened by me, you were right Alya." That was how Lila worked, she mixed a little bit of the truth with what someone wanted to hear, which caused the lies she told to pass by noticed. "Anyways we had lunch and caught up, she was showing me some of her amazing designs," as much as it pained Lila to admit it, Marinette was truly talented. In fact one thing she regretted was not working harder to deceive Marinette back when they were still in school, if she had known Marinette would be so successful she would've fought like hell to take the spot of Marinette's Best Friend away from Alya. She would've been MDC's top model, instead of having a stagnating career as just another practically nameless model for Gabriel. "I remembered my dear friend Timmy, we met when my mother was stationed in Gotham, he had told me that the Wayne family needed suits and dresses for their upcoming Gala and that Gabriel was too busy." Another partial truth, Lila didn't know any Wayne, but she knew Gabriel was too busy being Hawkmoth to make their outfits. "I gave him Marinette's number as an olive branch because I had thought she changed, but I guess she was lying. Oh and Alya? Adrien? Please don't mention my friendship with the Waynes, I don't want people thinking they can get to them through me." Lila smirked as both Adrien and Alya promised her they wouldn't say anything.

When Marinette told them she was cutting off her former friends for good, Tom and Sabine were over the moon. They knew about the Lila situation and all its complexities after the faux fox tried to infiltrate the bakery and convince them their daughter had stolen her necklace. They almost fell for it, until Tom remembered that Marinette had been helping him in the bakery during the time Lila said their daughter took the necklace. He had sternly told Lila that there was no way Marinette could have done it, and even offered to show her security footage that proved Marinette was not the thief. Instead, the brunette stormed out of the bakery, and Tom and Sabine knew they had to talk to their daughter. After a bit of gentle prodding, Marinette broke down and told them everything. She told them about Lila, her classmates, and Adrien, and she told them about everything they were putting her through. They were horrified, and that feeling was solidified after Lila got Marinette expelled. After their daughter's name was cleared, that useless principal was trying to dodge removing it from her record, until Sabine threatened to contact the school board about how their daughter was expelled without an investigation. They did everything they could, but it seemed Lila had everyone else in her pocket, and it seemed to stay that way once Marinette returned from college. She had swung by the bakery and explained that her phone had been shattered while she avoided the akumas, and she was taking this opportunity to change her number and cut those leeches off. Sabine and Tom promised that they would say nothing because it was only a matter of time before her former friends wound up at the bakery because of the radio silence from Marinette.

The chiming of the doorbell confirmed their fears. In stormed Marinette's old class, with her former friend Alya leading the pack. They could see Lila hiding in the back, and decided it would be better to say nothing. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng! We have a problem and thought you could help us. We've been trying to get in contact with Marinette all day, but we can't reach her and we wanted to make sure she was okay." Sabine smiled as she tried to hold in her rage. They weren't here because they were concerned, those brats wanted something. It would appear that Alya and co didn't know that Marinette's parents knew Lila was lying or what they did, so Tom decided to answer in a way Lila couldn't twist. "Oh, she came by earlier today and let us know that her phone was broken. She dropped it during one of the Akuma attacks, and it was pretty smashed up. She told us to let you know if you came by since she would be off the grid until it was fixed. It might be a while though, it was almost as bad as the time it got caught in the bread mixer!" His answer seemed to calm the group down, typical clumsy Marinette strikes again. "Ok, well can you please let her know to reach out to us once her phone's fixed?" The two nodded and promised they would, and watched as the group of adults left. Sabine turned to the freezer, "They're gone! You can come out now!" The two chuckled as their daughter slowly poked her head out of the walk-in freezer, ready to dash back in at a moment's notice. Yeah, they're glad Marinette was finally cutting those people off and the bright glow in their girl's eyes confirmed it.

The Gala was in a few weeks, and Marinette was STILL radio silent. Adrien was pacing back and forth in his room, trying to figure out what to do. Her social media was most likely controlled by an assistant like his was so he couldn't message her there, he couldn't get into her studio without an invitation or employee badge, and he realized he had no idea where she lived so he couldn't even pay her a visit or send a letter! "I don't know what to do! No one has heard from Marinette and her parents promised they'd talk to her about it!" "Maybe she finally got tired of your bullshit and decided to cut you and the rest of those users off," Plagg snapped from somewhere in his room. After The Paint Incident, Plagg's attitude towards him seemed to change. He snapped at Adrien more, called Adrien out on his behavior, and started giving Adrien harsh (and desperately needed) advice. Other than that, Plagg was getting on his case about slacking off on his duties as Chat Noir, claiming that his behavior was a disgrace to the legacy of the Cat Miraculous. Adrien was getting fed up with him, hadn't the stupid cat heard the saying 'if you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all?' "Marinette wouldn't do that! We're her friends!" "Some friends. And some friend YOU are. You knew Lila was lying and let her wreck Marinette's school life, get her expelled, and continue to lie to everyone. You told Marinette to shut up and take it, news flash kid, the high road does not mean stay quite and let people hurt you! YOU currently know that YOUR friends only care about what they can get from her and that Lila is planning to pull some bullshit at the Gala, but all you're concerned about is making sure karma doesn't bite you in the ass!" Plagg roared. It was hard to argue with the little god without sounding like a hypocrite, but Adrien was going to try. "Well... When Marinette agrees to go to the Gala with me I can fix everything! She likes me, so we can get together, and I can get Lila to apologize! Once everyone knows they're on good terms things will go back to how they should be!" Plagg was paying more attention to the cheese he was juggling, but he did glance back at Adrien, "One, IF she decides to go with you. Two, she may not even feel that way it's been years. Three, How are you going to get a narcissist to admit to wrongdoing? Four, How does Lila apologizing change how your ex-class treat Mari when that's how they treated her before Lila showed up?" Adrien chose to ignore Plagg and tried calling Marinette again.

Alya was STRESSED. The Gala was coming up and she needed a new dress that would wow everyone and make her stand out from other reporters. She had already secured her Press Pass, and because she was Lila's plus one she could actually get into the Gala. The only other reporters with that privilege were Clark Kent and Lois Lane, close friends of the Wayne Family. Lila offered to get her a Gabriel Original but she turned it down, both girls shared a sentiment that Gabriel's designs had really been declining. "I think it was the loss of his wife. She was his greatest inspiration, and especially with Hawkmoth on the loose, I can understand not wanting to leave your house. Maybe he's just out of touch," Lila had told her, and Alya agreed. What she needed was a Marinette Original, something to show she was in with both designers. She was thinking of something fox-inspired, to pay homage to her time as Rena Rouge. She'd talked to the other girls about why Marinette had never told her she would be designing for the Waynes, and they reassured her, "Well, maybe she thought you wouldn't be interested or were too busy?" Rose offered. "You didn't really report on fashion until Adrien and Lila took you to that fashion show. Maybe she thought you wouldn't be interested." Juleka suggested. "Als, you're overthinking it! Mari didn't tell you because she couldn't! A family like the Waynes has wicked good lawyers, they probably made her sign an NDA." Alix concluded. They were probably right, Marinette would have told her if she could have, and Alya needed that dress. So there she was at Tom and Sabine's bakery again, asking about Marinette. "Oh, she just called this morning! The damage was too severe, so she had to get a new phone." Sabine told the young reporter, who thanked her lucky stars. As she left the bakery, she sent a text 'Mari's back!'

Adrien nearly dropped his phone when he got the text from Alya, before excusing himself to run upstairs and call Marinette. The phone rang, and rang, and rang, before the call was answered, "Hello? Who is this?" A woman's voice answered, but certainly was not Marinette. Adrien was floored, he was sure he dialed the correct number. "Um hi. I'm looking for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I'm a friend of hers and was calling to speak to her." "Oh really? Well if you're her friend maybe you can explain to me why the second I had this number activated my phone was bombarded with calls and texts demanding things from dresses, to invitations to some Gala, and all kinds of other demands." Wait, had Marinette changed her number? No, she wouldn't have. "Listen, lady, I don't know if you find this funny but I KNOW Marinette wouldn't change her number. If you're her assistant you better give the phone to Marinette NOW or I'll see to it personally that you're fired!" Marinette should really have taken care to not hire such incompetent people. It was unfitting of an eventually-to-be Agreste. "I don't know who you think you are but I will make one thing clear: I DO NOT KNOW A MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG!" The line went dead. Adrien pressed the redial button, and felt his stomach drop as the call didn't go through, he had been blocked. From the way the group chat was blowing up, he could guess the others were getting the same response. Lila was going on and on about how Marinette was abandoning them in their time of need, and adding fuel to the fire. Adrien decided he was going to do damage control. He had thought a bit about what Plagg had said and realized that he needed to show Marinette that he was still on her side, besides it would be tougher to get everyone to make up if they were mad at her for something her crappy assistant did. He sent the chat a message, 'Guys relax. The woman on the phone wasn't Marinette but has her number, so she's probably a new assistant! Miracle Design Clothing has really exploded since the Waynes announced she made their outfits for the Gala so Marinette probably hired some help and the lady didn't know who we were. We can try again later.'

Lea Dubois was having the roughest week in all of her fourty-three years. She had gotten a new phone, since she her old one was stolen, and decided to get a new number with it. Not even a couple of minutes after activating her phone it began blowing up with calls and demands for a Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After a particularly snobby boy threatened to get her fired from a job she didn't even have, Lea decided to do some snooping and figure out who this Marinette Dupain-Cheng was. Googling the girl's name directed her to a Miracle Design Clothing website, and after scrolling through she found a tab labeled, "Founder." Clicking on it, she saw a picture of a smiling young woman with shiny black (almost blue) hair and sapphires for her eyes. She was a truly gorgeous woman, and from what Lea read very talented. That explained the demand for clothing. She decided to check social media next, and quickly found articles about how the rising star had been personally invited to the Wayne Charity Gala! That explained all the calls from people claiming to be Marinette's friends and demanding to be taken to the Gala, to that one girl who demanded an interview and a dress for the Gala. Lea went through the messages that quickly went from demanding to insulting and toxic, and thought to herself, 'I see why that girl changed her number, I hope she knows these people aren't her friends.' She decided to look up the people who had called her, and see what she could find out about them. A girl named Alix and a boy named Kim were both athletes, although both played for the minor leagues of their respective sports, but it did explain the requests for jersey designs. A boy named Ivan and two girls named Juleka and Rose had been calling about outfits for their next concert, apparently they were in a band called Kitty Section. Lea vaguely remembered that it was a popular group, before their lead guitarist was kicked out and went solo. Two girls named Sabrina and Mylene had asked her to create costumes for a production in the Théâtre du Châtelet, a boy named Max called asking for a suit for his new tech reveal, and another boy named Nino asked her to design a couple of album covers!

A few other people called, but they seemed to be genuine friends. One standout was a boy named Nathaniel who had called twice, once to congratulate Marinette on her work with the Waynes and invite her to an event for his comic. The second time was to apologize to Lea when he found out Marinette had changed her number. He had also apologized for the harassment his (and apparently Marinette's) former friends had been throwing at her. He explained that when they were younger, Marinette didn't know how to stand up for herself, and was pressured by her teacher to constantly put her needs on the back burner to help her classmates. Nathaniel told her it had gotten better when Marinette left for college, but now that she was back in Paris, things had gone back to the way they were. Instead of their teacher, the role of pressuring her had fallen to three people, Lila Rossi, Alya Césaire, and Adrien Agreste. That last name caught her attention, could that have been the bratty boy who threatened to fire her? "Sweetie I hate to do this to you, but if you have time could you meet me in person? We have a lot to discuss, and I'm beginning to worry for Marinette." Nathaniel had agreed and had said he was bringing a couple of Marinette's friends, her real friends. "They've been harassing us too, maybe we can look into getting a restraining order or something." And that was how she ended up in a cafe sitting at a table with some of the most impressive people she'd ever met. There were Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel, the power couple of comics. She hadn't read comics since she was a little girl, but her nephews talked nonstop about the Ladybug comic the two had started in collège. Olympian fencer Kagami Tsurugi, and hit rock artist Luka Couffaine. There was academy award winner Zoé Lee and fortune 500 company founder Chloé Bourgeois.

The group exchanged pleasantries and got right to business, "So we heard from Nathaniel that you got Marinette's old number and that your phone has been blowing up with all the shit she used to get," Luka said. Lea nodded, "Yes. They refused to believe that she'd changed her number and one man even threatened to get me fired! I don't know what job he thinks I have that he can influence, but I digress. " "Ugh. That sounds like Adrien alright. I swear it was like a switch flipped in his head during Collége, he's acting like I used to," Chloé had come to terms with the kind of person she was, and had taken the steps to apologize and change for the better. A part of that was she swore never to touch a Miraculous again, she had become aware enough to realize that when given that much power she would be tempted to fall back into her old ways. "It's telling that their first reaction to being cut off is to harass an innocent person instead of reflecting on their actions and what lead them to that point," Kagami said, "I think we owe you an explanation since you have unfortunately been dragged into this." Lea nodded, that sounded good. "They weren't always this bad, well they weren't always this blatant about it. For a long time, Marinette was happy and popular, hell even when I bullied her she didn't seem bothered. Then Lila Rossi transferred. That girl is the type to convince people that two plus two equals five, you know what I mean," Lea nodded, her ex had been like that. "Well anyways, Marinette saw through her bullshit and called her out for it, so Lila declared war. Before anyone could process what happened, Lila had convinced the class that Marinette was the Devil's spawn. She even managed to get Marinette falsely expelled, and while that was reversed, it was the moment Marinette realized she couldn't rely on her classmates. Alya was an up-and-coming journalist and her best friend, but if she couldn't bring herself to fact-check this girl's stories..." Chloé paused to take a sip of her drink, and Lea thought of something, "Maybe Alya did fact-check and knew Lila was lying. I did some research before I came here, and I know that Alya ran the Ladyblog. I also know that her videos featuring Lila are her most viewed videos, but when I looked at the comments I noticed that a ton had been deleted. Maybe she knew but saw how much attention her blog was getting, and chose to ignore Lila's lies, or maybe she believes them, I don't know." The group continued to chat about their situation and were snapped out of it when the door to the cafe was flung open.

Alya was gonna kill Marinette when she found her. How dare she hire someone and not tell them who she was?! How dare she do that to her friends?! Doesn't she realize they need her? It didn't take much to convince the others, specifically Max, to ping the location off of Marinette's number and track it down. If she was going to be bitchy and ignore their calls and messages and hire some dumb assistant to annoy them, they were gonna make her pay! They had tracked her location to a cafe in the fashion district and were waiting for the last of the group to arrive. "I don't understand why she's being so petty," Lila whimpered, fighting back tears, "You all have been nothing but kind to her even when she's been such a nasty person!" "I don't understand it either," Sabrina said, "It's like a switch flipped in collège or something." Well whatever it was, they weren't gonna let her get out of this! Once Kitty Section had arrived, the group stormed into the cafe ready to give Marinette a piece of their minds! To their surprise, Marinette wasn't there. Their old friends turned enemies were there and sitting with them was a middle-aged woman, was she the one who had been answering from Marinette's number. "Where's Marinette?" Alya demanded. Chloé and Kagami lept to their feet. "She isn't here, and unless someone is dying you are not getting in contact with her!" Chloé was a lot less polite about it, "Wow, I'm surprised none of you got the memo. You've been cut off!" The older woman turned to face them, and Adrien snapped at her, "You! Are you Marinette's assistant or something? Get her here now!" Oh, that was it, Lea walked right up to him, ready for war. "I will do no such thing because I am not her assistant! I did not even know who Marinette was until you people began blowing up my phone with demands! I have never met more selfish people! And you," she pointed at Lila, "I've heard all about you and what you've done to that poor girl!" Lila began to sob, wailing about how she didn't do anything, and that she had been trying to mend bridges with Marinette by introducing her to the Waynes.

"Woah, Woah, hold on! You did NOT introduce her to the Wayne Family," Luka stood up and walked over, Lea noticed how Kitty Section seemed to shrink under his gaze. "Marinette met the Waynes at a fashion show in Gotham that Jagged Stone took us to. She met Selina and the two hit it off like a house on fire," Luka pulled out his phone and showed off pictures of a much younger Marinette with a woman who could have passed for her mother. "Notice the date? She was in high school when she met them. Here she is at Selina and Bruce's wedding. Know why she's there? She designed Selina's dress." The dress was a stunning white with elegant black lace. The top resembled the head of a cat, and if you looked close enough you could see little cats and bats hidden within the lace. "Marinette's been the Wayne Family's go-to designer for YEARS. Hell, the Waynes were at her graduation party, and the opening of Miracle Design Clothes Studio, and have been to every major life event she's had since she met them." Luka showed them More photos of Marinette and the Wayne family. "I don't know how you could introduce her to people she's known for years," Luka said, "Not to mention Stephanie tells me they're desperate to either adopt her into the family or have her marry into it," Marc added. All eyes were on Lila now, she had told them all that she'd introduced Marinette to Timothy Drake Wayne and that was how Marinette got the job, but with all this evidence it was clear her lie was dead in the water. Lea turned back to the group, watching as the realization crossed their faces that Lila had lied, and had most likely lied about various other things. Turning back to the people she had met she said, "It was very nice meeting you all. Please pass on my concerns to Marinette, and let her know if she ever needs friendly advice, she knows what number to call,"

The Wayne Gala was very... Awkward for Adrien. After their failed attempt to confront Marinette, Lila got exposed, and in the excitement, it came out that he knew about what she had been doing. Simply put he was excommunicated from the group. They figured that if they cut him, Lila, and Alya (who had doubled down on Marinette being the problem until it came out she knew Lila lied and had said nothing to protect her views) out that they could apologize to Marinette and she'd take them back. Their pleas on social media brought attention to the situation, and Marinette's friends and parents were more than happy to tell the world what happened to their favorite designer. When he, Lila, and Alya walked into the Wayne Gala, they turned heads but not for the reasons any of them had hoped for. People were polite to their faces and when speaking to them, but Adrien could hear them whispering behind his back. He needed to talk to Marinette, if he could smooth things over with her then maybe, just maybe this could be salvaged. However, the Wayne Family seemed to personally take offense to his plan, because whenever he saw Marinette (and she stood out in an absolutely jaw-dropping sparkling red mermaid cut dress) she was whisked away before he could say anything. First, it was Selina, who lead her over to some of his father's former clients and proudly told them the story of how she met the young designer. Then it was Bruce Wayne himself who came to introduce her to the Kents, who much to Alya's dismay didn't even glance her way. Finally, it was the Wayne Kids who were determined to dance with Marinette all night, Adrien swears Jason was smirking at him. Eventually, she broke off from the main party with Tim and the two were chatting on the balcony. This was as close of a chance as he would get.

Marinette was having an amazing night! She met so many amazing people and made so many new contacts! She even set up an interview with Lois Lane! She could feel Alya fuming on the other side of the room, and tried her best not to think about it. She knew Adrien, Lila, and Alya were at the Gala, and she knew what had happened a few weeks before. While she was happy Lila was finally exposed, she had moved on. She got to dance with each of the Wayne siblings, but her favorite dance had to be with Tim. When Selina had introduced her to him, their reaction to each other was to freak out. Tim was over the moon to meet the designer he'd followed for years, and Marinette was ecstatic to meet the young Wayne CEO (whom she may have had a bit of a crush on). The two had exchanged numbers and talked constantly, building up a close friendship. As time went on her crush on him grew as well, but she was too nervous to risk their friendship and say anything. Eventually, when she thought her feet were going to fall off, Tim led her over to the balcony. There they talked quietly about anything and everything when a cough interrupted them. There was Adrien, with a charming smile, but Marinette had learned not to be fooled. "Hello, Adrien. Enjoying the Gala?" Marinette asked, she knew he was up to something, and from the way Tim looked at him, he could sense it too. Marinette decided to take control of the conversation, "I heard what happened. With Lea Dubois and the phone number and everything. To put it lightly that certainly wasn't your best moment." "Well, I... I never thought you would change your number, so it kinda threw me for a loop. Anyways, I wanted to apologize for the part I played in all of this. I really dropped the ball and it lead to you getting hurt I never intended for that to happen," "Yet you continued to let Marinette's former friends use her for free things?" Tim butted in, holding up his phone and showing various text messages between Adrien and his friends. Adrien's face darkened, "How the hell did you get those?!" Tim just threw his head back and laughed. "I'm a tech prodigy. Finding texts is a piece of cake. I started looking after Nathaniel told me about what happened in the cafe. I also found the texts between you and your father, and no I won't let you use my girlfriend as a publicity stunt. We were gonna announce our relationship tonight-" Adrien turned around and stomped off before Tim could finish his sentence. Marinette sighed, he really hadn't changed. Turning back to Tim she asked, "Since when are we in a relationship?" The raven-haired boy blushed a little, "Well Unofficially since your graduation party, but neither of us knew it at the time. Officially now... If you want. If not that's cool and we can just pretend this never happened. Damn Adrien! I had a plan for this but he had to show up and ruin it!" Marinette chuckled and brought Tim's hand up to her cheek, smiling up at him fondly, "Officially now is fine with me."

#vixin-unchiha #adrien salt #lila salt #maribat #marinette deserves better #marinette dupain cheng #class salt #timinette #tom and sabine sugar

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meduarts · 1 year

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Secretary!Marinette Part 9 (Idea Dump)

I don't know how many of these I'll do but I'm having so much fun coming up with ideas! Anyways this dump is going to explore Marinette's and Bruce's relationship! Let's start!! Bruce is kinda OOC but... I want a soft Dad-daughter relationship ok. SUE ME.

Bruce is confused most of the time when Mari showed him how much of an overly competent secretary she is.

She somehow knows when he was faking over meetings because he doesn't want to deal with investors and when he doesn't want to go to meetings because of a serious problem.

He's also kinda confused about how a small woman like her hides the strength of a million strong men. He often watches her pick up the largest boxes that probably weigh thrice her weight. She could manhandle him if the situation went awry from rogue, attacks, and lastly, he saw her punch through thick wooden doors before because one of his younger sons was kidnapped for ransom. That was scary, and he had never felt so safe before in his life.

He is also quite confused as to how she could give so much kindness to strangers and expect nothing from it. She often bakes him pastries and made sure that he has enough snacks during his working hour. She often made sure that his outfit is warm enough and he even got a knitted scarf as a gift from her that she knits herself.

He wanted to adopt her after learning about her past. So, he sometimes slips a paper adoption in the files that she was supposed to work on that day and it has become a game for them of some sort.

Bruce is awkward with his feelings and Marinette finds it hilarious. Marinette teaches him a secret handshake and at first, he did it awkwardly, and then it became a habit. Marinette likes to give him huge bear hugs and at first, Bruce did not know what to do. Like the secret handshake, it became a habit.

They both love to troll the Wayne Staff, at first, Bruce tries to stop her from creating chaos, but then he joins in and they made sure to team up to troll pesky business partners, reporters, and even investors alike.

Bruce doesn't know this but it was he who got adopted first by Marinette before he got the chance to adopt her.

The girl treats her like her father that needs help to manage his life. She worries about him when he gets no sleep. She constantly deals with difficult investors or potential business partners to make sure that her dad boss doesn't have to deal with headaches often. She even made sure that those pesky tabloid reporters left him and his family alone.

Like a cub trying to protect her parents, people often pegged her as a ferocious little kitten (because of her small posture) trying to claw away anyone that feels like a threat to her cat dad. Bruce found this amusing.

She knows that Bruce can handle himself but that doesn't mean he has to. If she can do it for him, then she would!

Once, she mistakenly called her dad out of office hours and Bruce had a permanent grin for the rest of the week.

Bruce invited her often for family dinners, which elates Dick because he would make sure to rope her to hang out with him as often as he could, sometimes Marinette would join him in his sitting area quietly gossiping or hearing each other's stories.

She became fast friends with Alfred and would often team up to bully Bruce to take care of himself more. They would inform one another when Bruce is skipping dinners and take turns scolding Bruce.

She ropes Bruce into taking yoga classes and even asked him to garden with her. It became a weekend father-daughter bonding time. Bruce is especially proud of his zucchini and tomato garden. She even helps Bruce with gift shopping for his kids and helps arrange a private family time for him as well. As usual, he would extend the invitation to Mari and sometimes she joins.

When Mari gets very sleepy during winter, he became full-on dad mode. Worrying his daughter secretary every time he noticed how sluggish she became during the cold weather. When Mari unexpectedly hibernates, he panics. ohnomydaughtersuddenlystopsrespondingandbecamereallycoldwhatshouldido???

When Bruce finally realizes that he had been unofficially adopted by Marinette Jason teases him nonstop. When Dick and Marinette start dating, he is elated. When they got engaged he is stoked. When Marinette asked for him to walk her down the aisle, he tears up. When they give him his first grandchild, he cries again.

#platonic brucinette #maribat #platonic maribat #dc x mlb #ml marinette #mlb x dc #mlb x batfam #mlb crossover #Managing Life AU #marinette dupain cheng #marinette as secretary #marinette x batfam #troll duo

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mariusroyale · 1 year

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what we deserved™

a few things actually:

- i hate chloe’s makeup. so much. like yeah honestly a 14yo would pick it but i hate it dkgfkdhd so yeah definitely switched that shit

- protective friend Chloe!! asked for NO pickles Chloe!!

- her hair also kinda bothers me?? instead of chopping it off i decided on letting the whole ‘growth’ thing come literally in her hair

- same with ‘letting loose’ like her hair being less uptight

- doesn’t mean she doesn’t uphold her own standards for herself tho

- this is if Chloe went to therapy haha (WHICH COULDVE BEEN ACHIEVED-)

- i love the idea of her giving pollen little accessories so they could match- like matching sunglasses and rings n stuff,

- “my queen, who did you commission to get these teeny glasses?” “i dont want to answer that right now, just put them on!” (she paid marinette lmao)

i also want to add, for a queen, there really isn’t much.. regality to her suit??? no fancy accents that suggest wealth or royalty so like. obviously i looked at cat walker’s design and went GIMME!! guys she wears designer shit, why wouldn’t it show up in her QUEEN bee form like?? shiny jewellery! queen shit idk!

this Chloe is redeemable, well written and is also a nice bitch :)

i write this with the thought of her being overtly giving to her friends, like

“DADDY!!” “it’s an invite-only party, darling, we can’t just-” “I WANT THEM INVITED! AND BRING THEM BETTER OUTFITS, trust me, daddy they need it,”

in front of her mother she does act like a spoiled brat but does apologise as soon as she’s gone,, definitely working on that. also whenever she witnesses marinette and her mom having nice moments shes definitely more likely to get akumatised BUT the charm and her mindfulness does get her out of it

…. we really were robbed of redemption arc Chloe huh. so much potential wasted

and fuck it if zoe suddenly exists they have a better relationship because i like sisterhood and chloe needs people to understand her (Zoe’s probably the first to and get closer anyway)

“if you so much as look at my sister in the eye i swear i will-” “CHLOE.”

#chloe bourgeois #queen bee #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb fanart #my art #SHE DESERVED BETTER :(#man fuck u astruc no wonder everyone in ur own fandom hates you lmao

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artzychic27 · 7 months

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While I do love the outfits, I really do…

… Why the fuck do goths/punks/emos have to be associated with evil? Can’t Adrien look like some teen cultist in all white clothing and slick back hair? He pretends to be this good guy to hide his cruel personality, but occasionally there are slip-ups. And, I don’t know, maybe a rockabilly theme for Marinette? (The jacket and ascot are giving me some serious rockabilly vibes right now) And if not that, then like a ‘mini evil CEO’

If goths are so evil, then why wasn’t Juleka made into a surprise villain? Nathaniel has emo bangs and I don’t see him being made into Hawkmoth’s lackey. And Marc’s obviously punk, so let’s just have him try to steal the Miraculous

Also, Shadybug and Claw Noir…Obviously punk-inspired, though Shadybug is giving me more emo vibes. But, would it kill the artists to put Claw Noir in a hooded trench coat, or something? Just… Not every person in a leather jacket is evil. There are just idiots who put on leather coats to look intimidating so they can get away with doing stupid stuff. And you know what? Fuck them

He can just stand on top of a building, his eyes and smile are the only things seen as the hood casts a shadow on his face, and the coat is just bowing in the wind all mysterious and shit. Now, Shadybug… I don’t know, I hear that the brightly-colored ladybugs are poison, so there’s that. No complaints about the hair, I love the hair. Maybe a crop jacket with tally marks on the back to show how many people she had Claw Noir cataclysm

And if she’s an evil badass, she’ll need steel-toed boots to kick peoples’ brains out

That’s my two cents… For now

#punk is not evil #and it’s not dead #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #Shadybug and claw noir #mlb rant #rant

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quickspinner · 2 months

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This is Crazy

Hey @haphira I'm your @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers secret admirer! I hope you enjoy this! The prompt I picked was "0 to married - blind date or one night stand turns into a three day date and married at the end." I also threw in a touch of Alya gets into Marinette's love life, just for fun.

Summary: Marinette's tired and frustrated. Work isn't going well, her social life is dead, and she doesn't believe in fairy tales anymore. When Alya insists there is someone who wants to meet her after the concert tonight, she figures at least it's a distraction from her boring life. She's not expecting the hottest rising rock star on the planet to walk through those doors--or anything that happens after that.

Rating: M for fade-to-black sexytimes and language

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3

She felt ridiculous, now that she was here. Alone in this fancy lounge with its dim lighting and collection of fancy backlit bottles, dressed like—well. Like herself, but a version of herself that was maybe trying a bit too hard. Marinette adjusted her bustier top, checked for the thousandth time that the zipper that ran up the front was still snugged up at the top and not about to fall down.

She wished she had worn a longer skirt. The knee length ones restricted her movement more than she liked, and full-length wouldn’t have been appropriate for this venue, but she was constantly checking to make sure her miniskirt hadn’t ridden up a little bit too much.

But these were the kinds of clothes one wore at a rock concert—and it had been a good concert, Marinette had to admit. She’d had a lot more fun than she expected, and if she could have been riding the metro home now with her girls, chatting about the music and the hot musicians, she would have considered the outfit a low price to pay.

She wasn’t, though. She was standing here alone in a private lounge, waiting for…someone. She didn’t know who. Alya had insisted it was a surprise, and that the person really wanted to see her, and had heavily implied that whoever this— male , Alya had made sure she knew—someone was very much interested in Marinette. You know, in that way. That all Marinette had to do was be hot and sweet and she was guaranteed that this mystery someone would… insert eyebrow waggle .

Well. Marinette hadn’t had any eyebrow waggling in long enough that she let herself be talked into it. Even if this mystery someone wasn’t someone she could see herself with long term, maybe she could get some much needed…stress relief. At least Alya’s insistence on setting her up could be good for something.

If the mystery man ever showed up. Marinette was feeling more and more stupid by the moment. Waiting always felt longer than it was, she reminded herself, but she was also starting to feel uncomfortably like she had been stood up.

She eyed the self-serve bar at the back of the lounge and went to investigate, unsure if she was looking for liquid courage or something to drown her disappointment in. There had sure been a lot of disappointments for her lately. Most recently, she’d had a hugely important order canceled at the last minute, which was the only reason she had time for this concert. She should have been at home being her workaholic self, and the gut-wrenching disappointment she’d felt when the client told her they had changed their mind and decided to go with someone else wasn’t easy to shake.

Marinette sighed and poured herself a drink.

She was leaning back against the bar, sipping a small glass of gin, when the door opened, and she started.

She recognized the man who entered immediately, and her mouth dropped open a little. Was that—it couldn’t be. Her whole body flushed hot with the thought no way, this can’t be happening .

He was imminently recognizable, though, and even if he hadn’t looked just like his posters, she had just spent two hours staring at him on stage.

“Oh, sorry,” he said reflexively as he came in, and Marinette smiled.

“It’s okay, I just needed a quick drink.” She set the gin glass down on the bar. “I’m, um. I’m Marinette.”

“Marinette,” he said, advancing into the room and glancing around like he was expecting someone else. Marinette swallowed and tried not to look down. God, this was embarrassing. Well, he was the one who supposedly wanted to meet her, right? Though, knowing who he was now—an internationally famous rock star, well…who knows what Alya told him. The real thing was guaranteed to be a disappointment.

He approached the bar, finally, with an air of resignation, but clearly determined to at least be polite. “Nice to meet you. I’m Luka.”

Marinette giggled nervously. “Well, obviously.”

He blinked at her like he was finally focusing on her, and smiled. “Right.” His eyes swept over her, and she didn’t miss the appreciation there. That perked her up a little. Luka had changed from his stage clothes into a faded ripped shirt and equally ratty but comfortable-looking pants. She might have been offended that he hadn’t put in more effort for her, but he had just been on stage for hours under those awful lights, so she didn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.

Besides, he was really, really, hot. Not necessarily conventionally handsome; some of his features took a little getting used to, but he was interesting, as well as being tall and very fit. One had to be, she supposed, being on display the way rock stars always were.

Oh shit he was talking to her. “Mind if I join you?” he was asking, gesturing across the bar between them. “I’m parched.”

“Oh, of course,” Marinette said, moving sideways instinctively even before he came behind the bar. Ugh, she sounded like an idiot. The space wasn’t very wide and she had basically backed into it instead of coming out, so she leaned back against the bar, trying to arrange herself in a way that was casually attractive instead of unbearably awkward or brazenly sex-starved.

Luka, meanwhile, examined the backlit bottles, and then with a slight shake of his head, turned towards Marinette again. She liked the way his eyes flicked over her and then away, like he was trying not to stare. She wasn’t doing such a good job keeping her eyes to herself either, so she decided to just brazen it out.

“Don’t see anything you like?” she dared to ask, with a slight quirk of her eyebrow.

Something in his stance shifted, like her attempt at flirtation had put him on firmer ground. “Actually, I think I see exactly what I need.” He advanced towards her and Marinette’s heart jumped into her throat. She hadn’t expected him to take the bait that quickly.

He stopped just short of her, and gestured at the glasses hanging above her. “May I?”

His voice was rough, which she supposed was to be expected after the performance he had given. God, he was even hotter up close. If conversation was going nowhere, at least she wanted to get something out of this. What difference did it make what he thought of her after tonight, anyway? “Of course,” she said, putting her hands on the bar and leaning back. She watched his eyes follow her, flicking down at the suddenly very low neckline of her bustier once before he looked up again. He took another step forward, so that he was brushing up against her as he reached over her to snag a glass and bring it down. He didn’t back away as he set it on the counter, and Marinette couldn’t help grinning at him. He leaned in a little more to reach behind her for the carafe of water sitting there.

“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked, still not backing off as he poured his glass of water.

“Very much,” Marinette said honestly. “To be honest, it was the first time I’ve heard your music. I’m definitely a fan now.”

“Are you?” he murmured, meeting her eyes for a moment, and she watched as he lifted the water glass to his lips and took a long drink.

“Definitely,” she said a little breathlessly, aware that she was ogling him shamelessly.

He made a thoughtful noise in his throat. “How many of those have you had?” He asked, before drinking again.

Marinette lifted her own glass. “Just this one.” Out of habit, she turned it so that the existing lip print on the glass matched where she sipped. It was Luka’s turn to swallow and stare, and then he set his water glass down decisively. He put his hands on the bar at either side of Marinette’s hips, and leaned down a little.

“Just to be clear,” he murmured, looking down at her with heavily lidded eyes. “Are you coming on to me? Because,” he continued, as a hot blush flooded up her face, “you are gorgeous and I’m horny as hell after that,” he tipped his head back to indicate the show he had just finished. “So assuming you are, I’d really like to continue this somewhere more private. As soon as possible.”

Marinette couldn’t help a grin, and she looked over her shoulder to eye the completely empty room. “It’s looking pretty private here,” she suggested, mostly just to buy time to figure out if she was really doing this.

“It won’t be for as long as I plan to need privacy,” he told her, leaning his hips harder into hers, and she bit her lip and made a sound in her throat that made him shiver. Fuck. Okay, she was definitely doing this.

“Well, if you insist,” she said breathlessly, and then his hands were on her waist, pulling her hard into him for a moment before he turned her to guide her out of the room.

***

Luka left Marinette in the bed, with a kiss and a whispered promise to be back, and went to shower. He sighed when he stepped into the warm spray, and smiled to himself. Despite the exhaustion now dragging at him, he felt good . The show had been amazing, and Marinette had given him exactly what he needed to top off the night. Shows always left him either feeling so drained and worn out that he wanted nothing more than to go to bed, or else put him on a high that made it impossible to sleep without some kind of release.

He’d actually thought tonight was going to be the low kind until he ducked into the closed lounge, too desperate for a drink to mind the ‘closed’ sign on the door. Then he saw Marinette leaning against the bar, illuminated by the backlighting like a work of art in a museum.

He hadn’t even had enough blood left in his brain to wonder why she was hanging out in the dimly lit, supposedly closed lounge. He was suddenly thirsty in an entirely different way.

It was an impulsive decision to invite her to come back to his room, but those were often his best, and he definitely had no reason to regret it now. His smile turned into a self-satisfied grin and he tilted his head back to wet his hair. Definitely no regrets there.

He shouldn’t take too long, though, or she might think he was trying to get rid of her. He cleaned himself up quickly. He almost wished he’d invited her to shower with him, but he needed this quiet moment after everything that had happened that night, and the hotel shower wasn’t really big enough for two. That was one thing he was looking forward to for the next leg of their tour; American hotel showers weren’t nearly so cramped.

Even as he thought it he found himself wishing then that they were staying in Paris a little longer. He wouldn’t have minded seeing Marinette again. She had this mix of sweetness and sexy that was very appealing to him and he could think of a few more things he’d enjoy doing with her. He felt a little shiver at the memory of her moans. He could listen to her sweet little whimpers for hours, and the beautiful crescendo had been satisfying in more ways than one. Her dazed smile afterward…he wanted to make her smile like that again.

The band was scheduled to leave tomorrow afternoon, though. They’d both known this was only a night.

Luka frowned. She had known that, right? Normally he made sure anyone who was with knew whether he was looking for temporary or long term, but he hadn’t really taken time for much more conversation than was related to the business at hand. He’d have to let her down gently if she’d been expecting more. Luka wasn’t exactly in a position to commit to anything else right now.

He sighed, turning off the water. He didn’t really want to have that conversation, but he didn’t want to string her along with a long-distance promise either…

Dumbass, he scolded himself as he dried off, and prepared to roll with whatever he found when he got out of the shower.

What he found was Marinette, sitting on the edge of the bed in a pool of soft lamplight, and biting her lip as she played with her fingers. She tried to smile at him, but she pulled the edges of the sheet wrapped around her a little tighter. Honestly, that just made her more appealing, with her shapely legs bare and just the important bits of her covered up, like one of those marble statues in the Louvre, only better, because she had color and breath, warmth and softness. He felt a song tickling at the back of his mind as he took in the line of her neck and shoulders, her mussed hair, and…her eyes. Her eyes turned up to him and his breath caught. He swallowed, and looked away, aware that his staring was making her uncomfortable. Her body language was closed and nervous, and he could imagine that she was feeling pretty vulnerable, in his room with no clothes on and clearly not sure what she should do next.

Luka picked up her unzipped top and miniskirt from the floor, and laid them over a chair with a small smile at the memories they conjured. “These are beautiful, on or off you,” he winked at her, and she blushed and ducked her head a little, which he found unreasonably charming, “but I can’t imagine they’ll be comfortable to sleep in. Hang on, I’ll grab you something.”

He found a clean shirt and sweatpants to pull on before he turned back to Marinette with another one of his t-shirts and a clean pair of boxers in his hands. He came to sit on the bed next to her and offered her the clothes, smiling at her whispered thanks.

“I should, um,” she paused to pull the shirt over her head, and Luka couldn’t make himself look away from the sheet that slipped down her body as he did so. That was definitely going in the song too, he decided. “I should probably go, though, right?”

“Do you have a room in the hotel?” he asked, and she blinked in surprise, and shook her head, sliding his shorts up over her legs.

“No, I live—I live in Paris. I can just take the metro home, or—”

Luka frowned. “At this time of night?” He reached out and stroked her hair back, and she relaxed a little at the tender touch, smiling at him. She definitely felt more confident now that she was covered, and she turned towards him a little as she answered.

“I’m a big girl,” she said. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“If you really want to go, I’ll call you a cab, but I’d be happy for you to stay the night here with me,” he offered. “This bed is plenty big enough for two.” He rested his hand on her back, resisting the urge to pull her against him.

It turned out he didn’t need to, because she scooted a little closer, and leaned into him, glancing up shyly. “I don’t—are you sure?”

Luka nodded, nuzzling her temple without thinking about it. She giggled.

“I wouldn’t have figured you for a cuddler,” she teased, and he grinned, glad to see her more comfortable, and put his arms around her.

“It’s a secret,” he teased back. “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my image.”

Marinette laughed, and impulsively he kissed her, and she leaned into it, humming softly.

“You’re shaking,” Luka observed, when they parted.

“Cold,” she admitted, squeezing closer to him. “And my whole body feels like jelly. In a good way,” she assured him, with a cheeky smile, and he couldn’t help grinning back.

Luka leaned back and snagged the comforter they had long ago kicked off the end of the bed, and wrapped Marinette in it. She giggled in the puffy cocoon. “What about you?” she asked.

“I sleep hot,” he told her. “I don’t use it anyway.” He stood up and scooped the Marinette cocoon into his arms, laying her down on the bed and climbing back in beside her. He pulled the sheet Marinette had dropped back up over himself, and wrapped his arms around Marinette in her blanket cocoon. She squirmed until she was tucked up under his chin. He found himself drifting off almost immediately. Somewhere in his fuzzy mind he realized he hadn’t talked to her about his intentions, but he was so tired and comfortable that it was barely a speed bump on his way to dreamland.

***

Marinette woke to gentle kisses along her neck and shoulder, and shivered before she was even fully awake. She felt warm breath along her ear and lips pressed into her cheek.

“Good morning, beautiful. Are you a tea or a coffee person?” She rolled onto her back, partially undoing the cocoon of blankets she’d been wound up in. A pleasantly rough hand slipped under the blankets and her shirt—his shirt—to caress her bare belly, and she shivered again, blinking fully awake.

“Hmm,” she sighed, finally processing the question. “Coffee?” She smiled shyly up into Luka’s blue eyes, suppressing another shiver at the look he was giving her. “At least this morning.”

“Cream? Sugar?” he asked, his voice even rougher than the night before, and Marinette bit her lip.

“Please,” she finally managed, and Luka leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth, a long, slow kiss like the ones he had given her as they wound down from their lovemaking. She really liked those. He might be a playboy rock star but he somehow had a way of making her feel like she was the center of the world.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, stroking a hand through her messy hair, and as he pulled back and stood Marinette realized he was already fully dressed, in black ripped jeans dangling with chains, topped with artfully ripped and layered shirts. She swallowed, both appreciating the look on him and suddenly afraid he was about to ditch her or throw her out. He looked ready to get on with his day. What time was it? He hadn’t struck her as an early riser.

Never mind, she told herself as he left the room. She didn’t want to know. Her blanket cocoon was warm and comfortable, and he was bringing her coffee instead of telling her to go home, so he must not be sick of her presence yet. She pulled the wiggled herself at least partially upright, tugging the blanket back up over her shoulders. Luka’s shirt was big enough on her that the collar left a lot of skin exposed to the cold. And his lips, as he’d proved. If he was already dressed, though, he probably wasn’t planning on an encore this morning. She hadn’t been either, but found herself disappointed anyway.

She tried not to pout. Reluctantly, she wiggled herself out of the comforter long enough to find her phone and purse, but the battery was dead. Marinette felt a pang of guilt; she probably should have at least let Alya know she had met up with her mystery man and was fine, but it was too late now. Some investigation proved that while Luka’s charger was on the nightstand, it wasn’t compatible with her phone.

Oh well. She tucked the phone back in her tiny clutch and set it on the table, then went to cocoon herself in the blankets again. She felt really good; more relaxed than she had been since that cancellation call. Even if Luka was done with her, she definitely got the stress relief she was looking for.

Then again, he had supposedly told Alya he wanted to meet her, so maybe…

That was just stupid though. No expectations, no disappointments, Marinette reminded herself. If all she had was a good night—a great night—that was plenty. She felt more relaxed than she had in weeks. Months. She tucked her legs up in the blankets and sighed, leaning back against the headboard. This was a really nice hotel room. Suite. It was a suite, they’d had to navigate past the sitting room to get to the bedroom last night. The rock star life, she thought, a smile quirking her lips.

Might as well enjoy it while she had it.

***

Luka sent his assistant for better coffee than the hotel could offer, and ducked into the gift shop. It took longer than he would have liked, just like everything did since he became famous, but he was able to get out with his purchases just as Emilio returned with the coffee. Luka refused help, hanging the gift shop bag on his wrist and taking both cups of coffee. He let Emilio push the elevator button, and smiled acknowledgement of his reminder about the flight that afternoon.

Marinette didn’t look anything like an art piece when he shouldered his way back into the room, and Luka laughed at her cute face peeking from the pile of coverlet she was once again wrapped in. “You look cozy,” he told her, setting the coffee on the uselessly small table in the room. He set the bag from the gift shop in front of her. “I got you some warmer things to wear if you can bear to come out of there.”

He looked away while she wriggled out and changed into the sweatshirt and yoga pants he’d managed to get for her.

“I’m done,” she said, and he looked back, breaking into a grin at the slightly oversized “I heart Paris” sweatshirt. The sleeves threatened to creep over her hands as she cradled her cup of coffee, inhaling the scent before she took a careful sip.

“Good?” he asked, once again completely charmed. He liked the way she took time to savor things. Her pretty eyes darted around the room, and he wondered what she was thinking. It seemed to him like her mind never stopped. He remembered the way she had looked over him when he came into the lounge last night, the slight tilt of her head and the sense of being…analyzed in some way, before she decided to make her move. It clashed a little with her sweet softness this morning, and he found himself chuckling. It wasn’t the first time he had hooked up with a groupie, and somehow he always seemed to pick the soft ones, no matter how brazen they seemed in the moment.

“You’re up early,” Marinette commented, and then frowned. “Actually, what time is it?”

“Coming up on eleven,” Luka said, glancing at his phone. “But yeah, I had a business meeting this morning.” He rolled his eyes. “Corporate sponsors have no respect for rock star hours. They were pitching to take over our merch sales.”

“What company?” Marinette asked curiously. “If you can tell me,” she added, and Luka smiled. He whispered the company name in her ear. It wasn’t really a secret, he hadn’t signed an NDA yet, but he felt like teasing her a bit.

She wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. Luka quirked an eyebrow, curious about her reaction. “What?”

Marinette shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “Nothing. It’s none of my business.”

“Tell me anyway.”

She sighed and gave a little pout, then put her coffee down. “Their quality is terrible. Which isn’t necessarily a negative for you , I guess. If the shirts fall apart faster then fans will just buy more.” Luka frowned at the cynicism in her voice. “If it were me, though, I’d rather pay more for something that will last a little longer. If I’m going to pay to put my logo on something I don’t want it to fade out after a few washes. Of course, you could always work out some kind of split production, so the younger fans can buy the cheaper stuff and the die-hards that have the will or the money can pony up for the quality stuff, but that—” she paused, seeing his gaze on her, and blushed. “Like I said, that’s not really my business,” she finished, picking up her coffee quickly again.

Luka wasn’t even sure what kind of face he was making, caught in a tangled net of feelings he couldn’t quite figure out. He was surprised, he was impressed, he was chagrined, and kind of embarrassed that he hadn’t given anywhere near as much thought to the issue, which had come up several times in the last few months, as Marinette had in five minutes.

Marinette set her coffee down and hopped off the bed, mumbling something about needing the bathroom, and Luka just watched her go, mouth open slightly.

***

Marinette felt better after a shower, and dressed once again in her tourist trap giftware with a sigh. She needed to apologize to Luka, she decided. She shouldn’t be butting into his business. It wasn’t like she was his girlfriend. She didn’t have any right to be grilling him on his business practices.

He was sitting in the suite’s little living room, sipping his own coffee while he scrolled through something on a tablet.

“Um,” she began, shifting nervously, and he looked up, setting down the tablet. “I’m sorry. If it seemed like I was criticizing you earlier. I wasn’t, it’s really none of my business, I know I said that already, but, um. I know you probably have a lot of decisions to make, or you have people that make those decisions for you, and you probably know a lot more about the s-situation than I do, so, I just. Sorry if I—” She trailed off, as if not actually sure what she was sorry for.

Luka beckoned her, and she walked slowly towards him. When she was close enough, he took her hand and pulled her close, wrapping her up in his arms. After a stiff moment, she relaxed into him and sat on his knee to lean her face into his neck.

“I wasn’t offended,” he told her quietly, “and I will definitely ask for samples before we go any further. It’s not something I thought about, and I should have. I’m not out to rip off my fans.” Her head shot up but he put a finger across her lips. “I know. I’m not offended. Actually I really appreciate you being straight with me. It’s hard to find these days.” He smiled, looking fondly up into her shocked face. “You’re—” He stopped, because he couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound trite or overused. Special. Different. Not like other girls. He’d sound like a pickup artist.

He suddenly found himself wishing he’d met her in a more casual way.

She was still blinking at him, and he realized she was still waiting for him to finish his sentence. Since he couldn’t, he leaned up and kissed her, softly, in a way he hoped conveyed reassurance and affection, and not just lust.

“You keep doing that,” she murmured, when their lips parted.

“Should I stop?” he smiled, a little crookedly.

“No, I—I like it,” she admitted, blushing faintly. “Just. Um.” Her gaze flicked to the bed behind them and then returned to his with something like guilt. “I didn’t expect it.”

“I didn’t expect you,” Luka replied, without thinking. Marinette blinked in surprise, and Luka bit his lip, feeling his own color rising. “I really like you, Marinette.”

She looked down. Her fingers at the nape of his neck twitched, and twined though a strand of his hair. “I like you too,” she whispered, and Luka grinned. “But you…” she trailed off, and met his eyes again, looking…sad.

Reality came crashing in on Luka and he sucked in a breath. Right. He was leaving. Soon, in fact, he realized, as he looked at the clock.

“Come with me,” he blurted, and was immediately convinced it was the best idea he’d ever had.

Marinette looked confused. “Where?”

“To New York. To start with, at least.” Luka slid her off his lap, and then moved to squat in front of her so they were facing each other. “I want—” he stalled, words again getting tangled up in his head. “I have a sense about people. I’ve learned to trust my instincts, and right now they’re telling me I shouldn’t let you just disappear. I want you to come on tour with me.” He swallowed and tried to grin. “I know it sounds crazy. ”

“It’s completely crazy,” Marinette cried, voice gone squeaky and breathless.

“I’ll make it work,” he insisted. “Worst case scenario, we have some fun, you can hang out at the hotel while I do my shows, we see the sights, and I buy you a plane ticket home when you get sick of me.” His tone softened. “I’m just not ready to tell you goodbye, Marinette.”

She gave him a smile that twitched, like she didn’t want to but she couldn’t help it. “That sounds like a song.”

“It absolutely does,” Luka agreed fervently. His whole body was thrumming with—something. Adrenaline or anticipation or fear or— “Please come with me, Marinette.”

Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Setting aside that the whole idea was fucking crazy —could she do it? She knew she could, even before she went down a mental list of commitments. Wasn’t that the whole reason she had been out on this stupid scheme to begin with? Because she was in a work slump with no immediate obligations to fulfill, no responsibilities at the bakery with her parents in Shanghai for the month. No one to hang out with, no one who needed her. And she hadn’t known what to do with herself.

So…why not do something crazy? Something no one would expect boring little Marinette to do?

And…the way he was looking at her, eyes intense and shining, practically vibrating with—she wasn’t sure what. Suspense? Excitement? Was this just a…thrill seeking type thing for him?

He saw her hesitation and fidgeted a bit on his heels, licking his lips. Preparing for rejection.

She unconsciously licked her own lips, and then offered a trembling smile. “Okay.”

Luka’s eyes lit up and he leaned in, placing a hand on hers and squeezing tightly enough to give his excitement away, even though all he said was, “Are you sure?”

And she was. “Yeah,” she grinned. “Let’s do it. I-if you really want to.”

Luka grabbed her face in both hands and kissed her hard. “I definitely want to. Let me make some calls. Do you have a passport?” He drew up short, as if just that moment realizing that that might be a dealbreaker. Even rock stars needed passports.

“Oh, mm-hmm.” Marinette turned towards her purse on the table and pulled out her wallet and passport to show him.”

Luka laughed. “You have it with you?”

“I like to be prepared,” Marinette defended, blushing. “Though this thing is so small I can’t carry half of what I usually do.” She couldn’t help smiling as Luka leaned forward and kissed her cheek again.

“No complaints here. That’ll make things easier. I’ll buy you anything else you need.”

“Luka, you can’t—” Marinette began, growing alarmed as the practicalities of the situation began to set in. Plane tickets, clothes—she didn’t even have anything comfortable to wear on the plane, she didn’t have her phone charger—the hotel could probably give her a toothbrush, but—

Luka’s finger on her lips interrupted both her protest and her spiraling thoughts. “Trust me, it’ll be the smartest thing I’ve spent money on since the band took off. I’m dragging you to a whole other country on no notice. Let me at least be a gentleman about it.” He flashed her an incongruously wicked grin, caressing her lips with his fingertip before he drew it away and turned to find his phone.

The bounce in his step made her smile despite her worries. Well, he was a good guy. Or at least she thought so, based on…nothing at all. This was insane. She was crazy.

Marinette took another breath, fighting down another wave of panic. No, it was fine. She had friends in the States that could help her out if she really needed it, humiliating as that would be, but it wouldn’t come to that anyway. She had her own money saved, after all, and if Luka turned out to be a complete douche and left her stranded somewhere once he lost interest, she’d be able to get herself home just fine.

He wouldn’t though. Something inside her was sure of it.

Marinette sighed, burying her face in the pillow to let out a quiet little scream.

At least no one would ever be able to call her boring again. Are you happy now, Alya?

***

Luka’s hands shook and he paced as he dialed Lucille’s number. He was reasonably confident that she could do what he was about to ask, but he wasn’t so sure about how she was going to take this. He had a fair number of one night stands, sure, but wasn’t that much of a playboy as rock stars go and he had certainly never asked to bring a hookup along on tour with him before.

Still, this was going to be hard to explain. He didn’t want to have to pull the “you work for me ” card. That wouldn’t be fair to her with all that she did for him.

When he explained the situation, though, all he really got was…silence.

“I know this sounds really crazy—” he began, but shut his mouth when Lucille cut him off.

“Your personal life isn’t my business,” she said briskly. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.

Luka winced at the implied disapproval, but decided it was best just to roll with it.

“Hey, can you—can you get her a room in the hotel in New York?” he asked. “I—” He paused, not sure how to put “I don’t want her to feel pressured to fuck me every night” in professional terms.

“Will do,” Lucille said, still in that clipped, matter-of-fact tone. “Do you want it near you or farther away?”

“Near is good.” Luka cleared his throat. “Next door would probably be fine.” He paused. “Can you find us a good place to eat one night while we’re there? Something fancy but not too touristy. Maybe some broadway tickets? She’d probably like that.” Not that he really knew anything about what she liked, but surely someone on the crew would take the tickets if Marinette didn’t want to go.

“Um…” That seemed to throw Lucille. “I can probably do that.”

“I know we’re on a really tight schedule in Chicago, but what about LA, is it whale season there? Can we book a whale-watching cruise?”

“I don’t really know, I’ll check. Whales might be farther north than LA proper.”

“Okay, well see if we can make time to get up there if so. See if we can schedule some beach time in between rehearsals, too.”

“O-okay. I can do that.”

Luka frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lucille said quickly. “You’re just not usually interested in that kind of stuff.”

“I don’t usually have time,” Luka replied, and then bit his lip. He didn’t really have time on this trip, either. “Just see if we can make it work. I don’t want to cause any problems for anyone.”

“It should be fine,” Lucille told him firmly. “I’ve told you before you work longer hours than you need to on tour. I’m…glad you’re thinking about taking some time.”

“Yeah,” Luka said lamely.

“Make sure your lady friend has all her documents in order. I can’t negotiate immigration and customs rules.”

“I will,” Luka promised. “What’s the absolute latest time I can get to the airport? Can we make a stop at her place before?”

“It’ll have to be a short stop or we’ll lose our departure slot,” Lucille sighed. “Your car’s already on the way to pick you up. Where does she live?”

“Uh—” Luka went back to the bedroom of his suite, and cracked open the door. “Marinette?”

***

They darted from the car to the back door of the bakery, neither keen on advertising Luka’s famous face following her inside. Marinette had asked if he wanted to wait in the car, but Luka found he really didn’t. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was afraid Marinette would panic if he let her out of his sight or because of the intense curiosity he had been feeling about her since she agreed to this mad adventure.

“Don’t say anything,” Marinette warned him as they went up the stairs. “I know it’s really childish looking, and I’ve been meaning to redecorate for years, but then I kept thinking I was moving out, and…none of it ever happened.” Marinette looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her messy bun was adorable, but it didn’t look very stable.

“Don’t apologize for liking what you like,” Luka told her sincerely, looking at the very girly pink room. Not what he would have expected from the girl he saw leaning on the bar last night, but now that he’d spent time with her, it fit. Another bit of that song he’d been thinking about clicked into place as he squeezed Marinette’s hand. “We’ve got ten minutes,” he told her. “Just grab the personal stuff you really need. We can pick up anything you forget Stateside.”

“Right. Okay.” Marinette hesitated for a moment, making abortive moves in several different directions before committing to one. Luka chuckled, but once she got moving, she moved like lightning. Before he could blink there was a pink polkadot hardshell suitcase open on the chaise, and Marinette’s distractingly perfect lips were silently moving as she pivoted and ducked and grabbed items to throw inside. Despite his offer to buy her clothes, she threw her closet door open and snatched things off hangers to stuff in the bag. She pulled something red and sparkly out of a drawer that absolutely piqued Luka’s interest, but it was in the bag before he could get more than a glimpse. He started to take a step forward but had to step right back when Marinette rushed by him, muttering under her breath. He could feel the manic energy spilling out of her and his hand twitched with the urge to grab hers, to pull her in and get her to breathe for a minute—but they really didn’t have much time, so he clamped down on the impulse and let her do what she needed to do.

He couldn’t help glancing around curiously, taking in the different types of sewing machines, the cones of thread, several poster boards of color swatches and pictures. Mood boards, he realized. “You’re a designer?” he asked, and Marinette paused, turning to look at him in surprise. He nodded towards the mood boards. “My sister’s a model,” he explained. “I’ve seen a designer’s studio before.”

“Oh—well—I mean, yes, but—it’s complicated,” she said, and Luka nodded.

“Sorry, don’t let me distract you,” he said, waving her on. They were on a schedule, after all. He shouldn’t have interrupted her flow, it was just…He let his eyes rove over the pictures and clippings on the walls and resisted the impulse to poke around on her desk.

She paused in the middle of the room, silently ticking off her fingers as if going through a mental list. Then she did one more quick spin, eyes roving over the room. She turned to her suitcase and shut it, leaning on the lid as she reached down to snap the clasps. She pulled it off the chair and set it on its wheels on the floor. She looked up at him with a delighted grin. Her eyes were bright and her hair had come loose from all her sharp turns, and her beautiful eyes were huge and bright with excitement.

I love this girl, Luka thought giddily, and then had to choke on a laugh. What? Where did that even come from? Spending the night with a girl and then standing in her apartment for less than ten minutes—who decides they’re in love after that ?

Me, apparently, he thought, feeling the grin growing on his face as he looked back at her. Don’t be stupid, Luka. You’ll get overinvested and end up breaking the girl’s heart, if you don’t scare her off before we even make it to the airport.

He was already reaching to offer his hand, though, and she took it, dragging her suitcase behind her as they headed for the staircase.

Marinette was still going through things in her mind as Luka carried her suitcase down the stairs, trying to make sure she had everything she needed and reassuring herself that they weren’t traveling into the wilderness, and she could probably buy anything she had missed as long as she had her important documents with her.

The driver was leaning against the car, frowning at his phone and obviously anxious to leave. Luka gave him Marinette’s suitcase to throw in the back, and then opened the door. Marinette almost tripped in her hurry to get in and keep them from being delayed any longer. She rubbed her ankle as Luka slid in beside her. Marinette lurched against him as the anxious driver pulled sharply into the traffic.

“Sorry,” she gasped as he helped her right herself. She groped for the seatbelt, and jerked it across herself, snapping it into the buckle as they made another sharp turn.

Luka let out a breath as he finished doing the same, and leaned back. “Gotta love Paris traffic,” he sighed, and added under his breath, “and Paris drivers. Not that New York is much better.”

Marinette smiled a little shakily, twisting her hands together in her lap.

Back in the car, Luka took her hand, gently curling his fingers around it. “How are you feeling? Still sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Marinette smiled, surprised to realize she meant it—the little voice screaming in her head that this was crazy seemed to have given up for now. She was absolutely doing this. Impulsively, she leaned in and curled her hand around the back of Luka’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. He made a pleased noise in the back of his throat and opened his mouth for her as his hand left hers to squeeze her thigh.

The kiss was hot, and it sent shivers down her body, but it was different from the desperate, hungry energy of the night before. Softer, longer, not so rushed or single-minded. This was kissing for the enjoyment of it, not as a rush to something else. Luka’s hand on her thigh came up to cup her cheek, and he managed to wiggle his other arm between her and the seat to wrap around her waist, his fingers kneading gently into her lower back.

She pulled away sooner than she wanted to, conscious of the driver in the front, though he was so busy swearing under his breath at the other cars that she hoped he hadn’t taken too much note of the spectacle she was making. Luka let her break from him, but kept kissing her cheek, her jaw, up near her ear, until she scolded him quietly and put a hand on his chest to stop him from leaning in again. He grinned at her and settled back against the seat with his arm around her shoulders. Marinette smiled and leaned on him, breathing in his clean scent and light cologne.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew was Luka quietly calling her name. She had just enough time to register that before the car door opening made her jump, and Luka helped her out of the car as she tried to bring herself fully awake.

“Sorr—” she began, but Luka hushed her.

“There will probably be reporters,” he told her, putting his arm around her waist. “Don’t say anything and don’t let anyone separate us. If the cameras bother you just hide your face on me. I’ll handle the rest.”

Marinette nodded, still feeling a little confused. “My bag—”

“My staff will handle it. Ready?”

She wasn’t, but she nodded anyway. Luka kept her hip pressed tight to his as they walked into the crowd of reporters. Figuring it was better to look shy than bewildered, Marinette turned her face into Luka’s arm. She peeked just enough to see where they were going and to see black-clad security making a path for them. Luka just walked straight forward, answering no questions and keeping a calm, disinterested expression. This must be normal for him, she figured. He was used to it.

She wasn’t exactly used to it, but Luka’s calm made it easy to keep her own, and she just concentrated on not tripping on her own feet or Luka’s.

“You all right?” he asked, once they were inside. “You handled that well.”

“Y-yeah,” she said, and tried to smile up at him.

“Sorry, I should have warned you about that. They’ll probably pop up a few more times until we get through security, but then we should be clear, at least for a while.”

“It’s all right.”

It wasn’t Marinette’s first introduction to the lifestyles of the rich and famous, but they’d never been up in her face before. She was, she admitted to herself, a little shaken, but not too much.

Everything went fast after that. Despite her cadre of famous friends, Marinette was still caught off-guard at how much easier everything could be when people knew your face. In some ways, at least.

Luka did stop in the airport for pictures with fans, and to sign a few autographs, but a short, stocky young man turned up before they were halfway to the security desk and began hustling them along.

“Oh good, you made it,” he puffed, a little out of breath and a little red in the face. “We need to get you through security and then you can schmooze if you want.”

“Marinette, this is Emilio,” Luka said dryly, giving her an apologetic grin as he lengthened his stride a bit. Emilio was only a little taller than Marinette but he set a brisk pace. “He’s my assistant. It’s his job to make sure I get where I’m supposed to be before I’m supposed to get there.”

Emilio rolled his eyes. “He’d never get anywhere on time if it weren’t for me.”

“That’s not my fault,” Luka protested.

“You’re just too nice to say no to fans without me to be the bad guy,” Emilio shot back.

“That is why I hired you,” Luka admitted.

Emilio rolled his eyes, and then offered Marinette a flustered grin. “Nice to meet you, miss.”

“Marinette,” she put in.

“Marinette. Sorry to rush you both along—”

“You know we’re just going to end up sitting in the lounge waiting on the crew to get the plane ready,” Luka complained.

“—but security doesn’t care how famous you are,” Emilio finished pointedly.

Luka rolled his eyes, but kept pace with Emilio, Marinette’s hand clutched in his own.

***

“I hate the hurry up and wait schtick,” Luka complained, reaching to open the door to the private rich-people lounge. “But it’s so much better than it was when we were flying commercial. At least it’ll be quiet in here.” He hesitated, and pulled his hand back, taking Marinette’s arm and moving her a few steps away.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked.

“I just figured we should get our story straight before we go in there,” Luka replied with an embarrassed smile that Marinette found rather sweet. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, blinking. “That makes sense.”

Luka seemed to hesitate for a moment, licking his lips as he tried to decide what he wanted to say. She had noticed that it sometimes took him a moment to think through his words, and she found she liked it—both that he was so careful and thoughtful about what he said, and the reminder that, famous or not, in some ways he was still just a regular guy.

“Would you be comfortable with me introducing you as my girlfriend?” he finally asked. “That would probably be simplest.”

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” she asked slowly. “Or if I’m okay with being called that?”

Luka shrugged, and she was amused to see the high points of his cheeks turning pink. “Either. Both. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He hesitated again, and then said quickly, “Yes, I’m asking you to be my girlfriend. For however long this lasts, at least.”

Marinette wasn’t sure if she was more thrown by the request or by the corollary.

Luka sighed, running his fingers through his hair, and let his bag slip off his shoulder to the floor. “This is why I hate labels,” he muttered, and then tried to grin at her. “We can talk about what all it means when we get to New York and have some privacy, I promise. Right now I just mean that I’m with you and only you, until you—or we, I guess—decide we want something to change. Does that work?”

Marinette considered that for a moment, and then nodded. It would make things easier to have a title that people understood, and it came with a set of assumptions that would benefit them both for now. He was right, and they could work out the real meaning of what they were to each other when they got to New York. Worst case scenario, we have some fun, you can hang out at the hotel while I do my shows, we see the sights, and I buy you a plane ticket home when you get sick of me. For the first time it occurred to her to wonder what he considered the best case scenario.

The quick flash of his smile, a real smile, and the excitement in his eyes as he picked up his bag and took her hand, made her smile too, and she let him lead her into the lounge.

There was a group of people lounging in and around chairs, most of them sporting earbuds amongst the glint of their piercings. Luka called out to them, and they all smiled, turning towards him.

“Guys, this is Marinette, my girlfriend.” He grinned at her like the word delighted him, despite his grumbling about labels. “She’s going to be hanging out with us for the next few stops.”

The reactions were all surprised to some degree, but then friendly as they nodded, smiled, or gave a small wave. Marinette made a self-conscious little wave of her own. “Nice to meet you all,” she said. “Sorry if I made Luka late.”

She got a few chuckles at that. One green-haired girl rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile, and said, “We’re always waiting on somebody or other, it feels like. I guess it’s Luka’s turn. We’re not on the plane yet so we probably have at least another hour before we can take off anyway.”

Marinette smiled back, and tried to pay attention while Luka gave names and roles. Then he tugged her away, pulling her towards a separate group of chairs.

“Don’t you want to sit with your friends?” Marinette asked.

“Later,” Luka told her, squeezing her hand. “I have some things I want to work on, and I need a little space.” He gave her hand another little tug before she could offer to leave him alone. “You can stay, I don’t mind. And I’m definitely not leaving you with those maniacs by yourself.”

Marinette laughed, and sat down in the seat he indicated.

“You want a drink?” Luka asked, and when she nodded, he went to the lounge’s little bar and brought back two bottles of water. Marinette was already digging in her capacious purse.

“I need to call Alya,” she sighed, pulling out the phone charger she had stuffed into it during her packing frenzy. She plugged her phone and charger into the port in the table next to her as Luka set her water down on it. “She’s probably frothing at the mouth by now. How do you know her, anyway?”

“Know who?” Luka asked, settling back with a notebook balanced on one knee and the other water bottle in his hand.

“Alya.” Marinette watched him throw his head back and drink, and had to look away.

“I don’t know anyone named Alya,” he said when he lowered the bottle.

Marinette frowned at him, twisting open her own water. “Alya Cesaire? She said you wanted to meet me last night. That’s why I was in the lounge. Security let me in and everything.”

Luka’s eyebrows raised slightly. “I didn’t know you were going to be in the lounge. It was supposed to be closed off to the public.”

“It was. I had to get Security to let me in.”

“They just let you in?”

“Well, I had to give them my name at the backstage door, and then they took me to the lounge and let me in. Because you asked to meet me.”

Luka shook his head slowly. “I don’t know who you were supposed to meet there, but it wasn’t me. I’m glad you were there, but I definitely didn’t ask to meet you.”

Marinette stared at him for a full three seconds, not even blinking, before she could get his words to make sense. “O-oh. Oh. Oh, um.” She put a hand over her mouth. “S-she didn’t tell me who I was supposed to be meeting, and when you came in I thought—oh my God. Oh my God. ”

Luka frowned, studying her face. “Does it have to change anything?”

“Yes! …No. No, I guess it doesn’t. Shouldn’t it though?” She moved her hand to her forehead, feeling almost dizzy from the sudden change in her perspective.

“I don’t really see why.” Luka picked up her other hand, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “We met. We had a good time. We liked each other and we want to see where things go.” He hesitated. “I mean, if you really wanted to meet this mystery person then—”

Marinette shook her head weakly. She hadn’t really cared that much, and had only gone to make

Alya happy, and because she was bored and depressed and any kind of escape from her daily life seemed appealing.

Well. She sure got that much, didn’t she? She was shaking, and could barely meet Luka’s gaze as he continued, “Then…it seems like we should be okay?”

“I guess we are, I just…” Marinette shrank a little, grabbing a handful of hair and tugging sharply. “I feel stupid. I thought—I mean I thought you wanted me, all that time, and—”

“I did,” Luka cut her off, squeezing her hand. “From the moment I saw you leaning against that bar.”

“Not like that ,” Marinette groaned, and then amended, “Well, not just like that. I mean—” She stopped, her thoughts hopelessly tangled, trying to figure out what she had been thinking last night—was it only last night? It seemed like so long ago.

“It’s not just like that,” Luka said, pulling her knuckles to her lips. “Not anymore. I promise, Marinette. So let’s just roll with it, okay?” He cupped her cheek to turn her face towards him, and she took in the worried look on his face. Her breath hitched a little, and then she put her hand over his.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” She smiled at him. He smiled back, and leaned forward to kiss her softly.

“Anytime you want out, you just tell me,” he whispered. “I’ll send you straight home, no hard feelings.”

“I don’t want out,” she blurted, almost before he was done talking. “I don’t, Luka. I’m sorry, it just…it startled me.” She studied him. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“A little,” Luka admitted. “I don’t really love the idea that you only—” he glanced towards the band, but no one was paying attention to them, “—did what you did because you were expecting—” he paused. “What were you expecting?”

Marinette groaned, putting her face in her hand. “I don’t even know. Honestly, Alya’s setups have never worked out before. I just thought—well, when I saw you, I thought…” She felt her face going redder and redder.

“You thought, you might as well hit that?”

“No!” Marinette said, horrified, but when she looked up she saw that Luka was grinning.

“Hey, I’m not going to pretend I was thinking anything different,” he teased. “But I think it worked out.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and Marinette burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it, he looked so silly.

“It did,” she giggled. “And now I’m running away with the hot rock star.”

“You’re the first groupie I’ve ever kidnapped,” Luka teased. Despite his light tone, she felt the way his grip on her hand softened. Not like he was letting go, more just a release of tension. She’d worried him, she realized.

“I’m glad things turned out the way they did,” she told him, making sure to meet his eyes and squeeze his hand back. His shoulders relaxed a little, and she smiled at him with genuine fondness. She was learning to read him, she realized. He kept a lot behind that laid back attitude, she was beginning to see.

Still.

“I really need to talk to Alya now,” she groaned.

“You need me to give you a minute?” Luka asked, and she shook her head, picking up her phone. It had enough battery now to power on and sure enough, there were a bunch of messages waiting for her. One was just a check in from her parents, and she sent them back a quick, mostly-true reply. She didn’t bother with the ones from Alya, just hit the button to call her. She held it away from her ear until she heard Alya’s voice screeching her name—her full name, of course, and then brought it back to her ear when Alya’s voice dropped to a more normal volume.

“Where have you been ?” Alya demanded. “I almost called the police and reported you missing. Adrien said you never showed up and—”

“ Adrien ?” Marinette demanded, and Luka glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “The mystery man you wanted me to meet was Adrien? ”

“Yes, and you blew it!”

“There was nothing to blow, Alya!” Marinette exclaimed, and then scowled at Luka when he choked on a laugh next to her. She flailed her hand in his direction, smacking his shoulder a couple of times, while he tried to smother his chortling. “Would you please just let that whole thing go? Why on earth would you think I wanted to meet him?” Dressed like that, she thought, slapping a hand on her face. What a disaster that would have been, she was sure.

“Oh, come on, he said he wanted to see you, and he’d been missing you a lot, and I just knew he’d finally gotten a clue and you were so hot last night I thought for sure—”

“She’s not wrong,” Luka muttered, and Marinette whipped her head around to glare at him. He shrugged. “Sorry, she’s loud.”

“Anyway,” Alya said, finally taking a breath, as Marinette turned her back to Luka. “Never mind all of that, where were you? You stood him up and—”

“I thought he stood me up!” Marinette broke in. “He was late ! I almost left, I decided to just have a quick drink first, and then L—and then someone came in, and I thought he was who you were setting me up with, and—and we went out. For a while.” She wouldn’t turn and look at Luka. She wouldn’t. She was sure he was laughing at her again. “My phone died. Alya, I can’t believe you tried to set me up with Adrien again. And you didn’t even warn me!”

“Adrien’s always late these days, it’s the cost of fame. He can’t walk to the bathroom without getting stopped for autographs and selfies, and he’s too nice to say no.”

“Well, you should have warned me about that too then.”

“I just thought you’d be less of a spazz if you didn’t have time to overthink it first!”

Marinette closed her eyes. “Alya, when has that ever worked.” Especially with Adrien.

“Okay, okay,” Alya groaned. “I just thought, it would be so romantic, one last chance after you both thought that it was over for good—it would have made such a story!”

“I’m not a story, Alya,” Marinette folded her free arm and pouted.

“Well there must be some story. Spill it, Marinette, who’s the guy you ran into? Please don’t tell me you blew off Adrien Agreste, Supermodel Actor, for some pathetic roadie who bought you a drink.”

Marinette’s eyebrows raised, and she glanced over her shoulder at Luka. “I definitely did not do that. I’ll tell you about it later, I’m—” about to get on a plane with a guy I just met “—busy.”

“And we’re back to the same old refrain,” Alya groaned. “You need to live a little, Marinette.”

“I’m hanging up now, Alya.”

“Marineeeeeeeeeette,” Alya whined, but Marinette rolled her eyes and ended the call.

She dropped the phone on the table and folded her arms, sinking into her chair as she pouted.

“You okay?” Luka asked, draping his arm behind her and letting his fingers play with her loose hair.

“Yeah.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “She’s just determined to make me the main character in one of her screenplays, I swear. You’d think a writer would know better how unrealistic that all is.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Marinette closed her eyes as Luka’s fingers moved to the back of her neck, massaging gently.

“Well, if you want,” he said slowly, and she looked at him. “We can absolutely give her a story. Maybe not the one she was hoping for, but…”

Marinette tilted her head curiously. “What do you mean?”

Luka leaned toward her, a wicked grin on his face that made her insides melt a little, and whispered a plan in her ear.

Marinette’s mouth twitched as she tried to keep in her smile. “I’ll think about it.”

***

The band’s private jet made her jaw drop in spite of herself.

“Wow,” she muttered under her breath.

“Yeah, it seems a little extravagant,” Luka confessed, running a self-conscious hand through his hair. “But commercial travel just got too difficult with all of our gear and the band and the staff. Not to mention the fans and the reporters. It’s just easier this way, and I have to admit, way more comfortable for an 8-hour flight. We use trains here on the continent but it’s hard to get around the US that way.”

“It’s really nice,” Marinette said, smiling at him. It was, too, with large, plush single seats on each side and a matching couch beyond. There was a sliding wood-panel pushed aside so that she could see the same type of single seats lining the cabin beyond.

“It keeps us from killing each other at least,” he said lightly. “Pick a seat. We’ll stay up here so you—so we can have some privacy.”

Marinette sat a little gingerly in one of the plush seats. There was a wooden rail at her elbow with drink holders in it

“Need anything else?” Luka asked, and Marinette smiled at him, and shook her head.

“I’m good.”

“Do you mind if I leave you for a bit?” he asked, tilting his head towards the couch behind the forward-facing seats. A slightly battered looking black-and-white guitar was strapped into a stand there. “I have some things I’d like to work on while we’re in the air.”

“Of course. I don’t want to get in the way of your work.”

He smiled at her. “Come and get me or call Emilio if you need anything.”

Marinette pulled her own notebook out of her bag. She curled up in the plane seat and looked out of the window, idly sketching random shapes as a warmup.

Luka also warmed up behind her, playing scales and other short ditties she didn’t know well enough to identify. Eventually he segued into another tune that she recognized from the concert, and then another.

Then he started playing something she hadn’t heard before. The melody inexplicably made her heart beat faster. It was new, but also…familiar. Not the tune, but the way it made her feel. It reminded her of…

Marinette peeked around the side of her seat and watched him for a moment. Luka was electric on stage, charged up and full of energy, but his face now was thoughtful, his brow slightly furrowed, his eyes closed even though his fingers were moving unerringly across the strings. Occasionally he would stop and go back, replaying a piece he’d just done but with some changes. It was a fascinating look at a process Marinette had never put much thought into.

Just then, someone—she thought it was the drummer, but she was still fuzzy on names—stuck their head in through the partition. “That a new one, Luka?” he asked, and Luka made an affirmative noise, but didn’t look up from his instrument. Apparently this was normal for him, because the person just grinned, and then grinned wider when he saw Marinette, and disappeared back behind the partition.

Marinette relaxed back in her seat, looking out of the window. The sun was setting, and she took out her colored pencils to capture the colors. It was weirdly refreshing, she found, to be drawing without a real goal, without a client or a concept in mind. Just…exploring, and recording, and letting her thoughts go where they wanted. She jotted notes on the margin or the next page any time something interesting occurred to her, but otherwise she just let her mind wander. She sketched the sunset, and then the pattern of the wood grain on the drink rail beside her, and anything else that caught her eye. Then she started sketching from memory; the backlit drink display from last night, one of Luka’s tattoos, the curve of his shoulder and neck emerging from the sheet—

Why couldn’t she stop thinking about that all of a sudden? She swallowed and turned the page.

“Hey.” She jumped as Luka’s voice came from behind her. “You still doing okay?” he asked, with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, unsuccessfully covering a yawn.

“I’m done for a little while,” he said. “If you want you can come lay on the couch back here and take a nap. It’s going to be late night Paris time by the time we land in New York.”

“Thanks. I might in a little while.”

“I’ve got to take a meeting with the guys in the back,” he said, stroking a gentle hand over her hair. “I��ll be back in a little bit. Call me if—”

“—I need anything.” She smiled. “I’m really fine.”

“Okay.” He leaned forward, and kissed her forehead before retreating to the back of the plane. She heard some catcalls and whistles and a good-natured, “Yeah, yeah, knock it off,” before he slid the partition shut.

It was funny, she thought, he really did treat her like she was his girlfriend, and not just a fuckbuddy or arm candy, either. The idea of that chat they were supposed to have, about what they really were to each other, suddenly made her stomach feel funny.

This whole scenario was so insane. She couldn’t believe she could possibly be so good at sex that the hottest rock star on the planet (in all possible meanings of the world) would be enthralled by her. He hadn’t even tried anything sexual since they went to sleep last night. Though there hadn’t been many private moments. A salacious thought or two crossed her mind about joining the mile high club when he came back, but she wasn’t sure she was bold enough to have sex with him with just that one little fake wood sliding wall separating them from his entire staff.

Marinette licked her lips and closed her sketchbook decisively. No more drawing in this mood. She got out her earphones and plugged them in, and turned some music on her phone. She didn’t have anything from Luka. She’d have to fix that soon. She really had had her head in the sand, Marinette thought, to have missed out on his music for this long. She put her chin on her fist and looked out at the night sky. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting out there now, the jet’s lights drowning at the stars and nothing but clouds or ocean below them, too dark to see clearly.

Before long, she felt her eyes dropping, and her head nodding, so she moved over to the couch and stretched out. It was surprisingly comfortable, though she would have liked a pillow. She folded her arms under her head, and dropped off quickly.

She woke with a start when someone touched her.

“It’s just me,” Luka said, kissing her cheek. “Can I join you?”

Marinette hummed agreement and scooted against the back of the couch. Luka somehow folded his lanky form onto the couch with her, tucking his bent legs between hers. He’d brought a pillow from somewhere that he propped under his own head, and his arms became Marinette’s pillow. Her neck was probably going to complain in the morning, but Luka was warm and smelled nice, and she was asleep again before she could overthink it.

Emilio woke them up in time to strap in for their landing in New York. Luka gave Marinette an adorable sleepy smile as they both buckled in, and he reached his hand across the aisle. Marinette put her hand in his and felt him squeeze it.

The airport wasn’t very full and all the shops were quiet and dark as they walked through. They mostly passed unremarked until they got to the door where their ride would be waiting.

“Pappos ahoy,” Luka said quietly, leaning over Marinette’s shoulder. She could see the people milling around outside of the airport doors and at least one of them had a camera. “Have you decided?”

Marinette looked up at him and nodded.

“Let’s do this then,” Luka grinned, and Marinette had to grin back. She reached up and smoothed her hair self-consciously, and felt Luka’s arm curl around her waist.

They walked out of the door that way, Marinette keeping her face up and smiling brightly. Neither of them spoke to any of the reporters that shouted at them, looking only at each other.

As the driver opened the car door to let them in, they turned to each other. Marinette put her arms around his neck, and pressed up on her toes. He met her halfway in a soft, long kiss, giving plenty of time for the cameras to catch the whole thing. The flurry of shutter clicks was still going when they parted. Luka helped Marinette in the car and then slid in after her, kissing her one more time before the door closed.

There’s your story, Alya, Marinette thought smugly, settling into the car seat.

Fiction Master Post

#lbscsecretadmirer2024 #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #pro lukamari #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug

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i-like-anything-water · 8 months

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chlonette secret admirer au where pollen leaves her gifts to Marinette because

1.) she can't run fast enough so she'd get caught since for some reason Marinette is both clumsy but athletic af

2.) Pollen can go undetected by technology and people in general

3.) She's trying to be better so she won't abuse her powers as Queen Bee and Pollen offered so technically...

Pollen looks at her holder who's pacing in a circle along the carpeted floor. A bouquet of flowers they handpicked this morning lay on the table along with a box of cupcakes Chloe had made (she lent the materials and ingredients needed because she can't bake to save her life) with Alya's mother and a scented card with her message. It was the common apology gift that humans have had since she was brought to this world yet she finds it cute everytime.

"She's going to think someone broke into her house and left some random objects! Oh god, what if she thinks she has a stalker and feels scared instead?!" Pollen couldn't help but buzz in amusement. She was pretty sure her holder's subject of affections wasn't easily deterred by a stalker. Plus, it wasn't stalking! It was just... mysteriously dropping gifts to a person's room. Huh, she really needs to read more regarding this generation's rules on courtship.

"I don't think that will be the case, My Queen," she's sure Tikki would see her anyway. And she's sure Tikki wouldn't snitch on them, yet. "I can safely deposit the gifts without drawing suspicion or ill-will! However, if you feel as if we are taking a step too far forward, I can leave it in her doorstep instead." While she wanted to help her chosen very much regarding her feelings for the ladybug holder, she valued her comfort and decisions above it.

It will take time, and she's frankly not sure if the feelings would be reciprocated. Granted, the previous ladybug and bee holders did end up eventually and happily but she didn't want to bet her holder's love on simply luck. Still, it was worth taking a risk and she's always excited whenever it's a ladybug holder that's gotten her holder's attention.

"I don't know..." Chloe still looked unsure, her eyes darting to the gifts on the table and back to the floating Kwami. "I'm Chloe Bourgeois and I'm panicking, which is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!"

Pollen simply looked at her.

Chloe sighed, her shoulders sagging, "but I'm also Chloe Bourgeois and Queen Bee. I'm changing and... Marinette is a good person. If she ever finds out, I at least know she won't make fun of me for it. But god I'd rather wear the same outfit twice than have her find out!"

Pollen smiled as she flew close to the blabbering blonde and laid a paw on her cheek, "We shall find out together, My Queen."

That seemed to ease the hero's nerves, her nervous expression replaced with a confident grin and determination. "Thanks, Pollen. We should get going now. I wouldn't want to miss seeing her!"

"Thank you, Pollen," she smiled warmly at the Kwami, the sun shining through her blonde locks and calm blue eyes. The crown sat snuggly on her head, the gem gleaming like the ocean on a sunny morning. Pollen smiled back, floating to rest atop the blonde's shoulder. "We should get going now. I wouldn't want to miss seeing her!"

Ah, fate. Bees did find ways to see Ladybugs. Pollen wonders how this would turn out this time.

"Pollen, Buzz On!"

The familiar burst of energy flew through the Kwami and she couldn't help the little jump before she was sucked in the comb.

#chlonette #chloenette #pollen #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain cheng #pollen has seen this more than once #she's still giddy every time #she's worried though #tis me making a small fic and adding in some minor deets from my other au #pollen ships it #this is also in the process of redemption chloe #pollen helped a lot #live laugh love pollen

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sweetgaleria · 9 months

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Just watched the ladybug movie with a friend and i want to share my thoughts

Things that i liked: -chat noir calling ladybug a watermelon -their miraculous glowing when they need each other (or when there's an akuma? idk, the movie didn't make it super clear) -ladynoir practicing fighting together!! It was so cute! I wish the show had more moments of them just being silly and hanging out outside of battles -Sabine, Gabriel and Nathalie's models looked great -the times careless whisper started playing made me laugh so hard -Marinette's dress was super pretty -I like it that their magical outfits weren't indestructible -them being literally stronger together was cool -The final scene when she takes his mask and puts it on her face to say she's ladybug

What I didn't like -the movie felt like a bunch of scenes glued together by spit and a half assed prayer -why was everything happening all the time with no explanation -the characters barely had time to connect to make their relationships feel genuine -that made all the important scenes have no emotional impact for me, I only cared about the characters because I already knew them from the show -this is just my personal taste but their designs/models were so... round? idk, I didn't like it that much, they looked kinda weird to me -"the power of love" being important out of nowhere?? -a lot of things just started happening without rhyme or reason, the movie didn't explain their powers at all and also -WHERE'S THE LUCKY CHARM -also the dialogs felt so out of place? Marinette asking her mom at the start how should she go after her dreams just felt like it was put there to make marinette sing -oh and this movie had the audacity of being a musical and having zero good songs -also I understood that she's insecure from the first song, didn't really need the other 3 -how Marinette went from "I'm too scared and I can't be a super hero" to "this guy sucks and I can beat his ass" in 0.5 seconds -why was plagg like that -also why was adrien chosen to be chat noir here? did plagg just fly inside the first house he deemed worthy of his presence? first place he could find cheese? where's his moment of selflessness? -Ladybug had no importance for the plot. at all basically. If all it took for Gabriel to quit being hawkmoth was realizing he was hurting his son.... what is left for her to do? -after god knows how many songs about believing in herself, her final battle she still felt too weak to fight and she still wasn't important for it - did i already say that the scenes had no emotional impact? -her speech to paris at the end just fell flat -again, ladybug had basically no importance in this movie

In the end the movie looked nice and it was fun to watch with a friend but I, personally, didn't think it was good. Had some nice things in there but that was it for me

#miraculous movie #miraculous awakening spoilers #miraculous movie spoilers #spoilers #honestly the best part of the movie was seeing ladynoir again #but i feel like i only care about them because i know them from the show

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coralcatsea · 6 months

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Thoughts about the new ML special:

-Gabriel narrating and singing. 🤣

-When I found out what the AU versions called themselves, I thought, "Really?" But I was not at all prepared for...BETTERFLY. AGHH.

-Of course they felt the need to assure us Chloe is Evil™ in every universe. Pffft.

-I can't help finding it amusing that "good Gabriel" is still a neglectful father. Wow.

-Shadybug looked decent. Claw Noir on the other hand...GAAAAAAHHH, HIS HAIR! It's horrendous! Also, funny how they gave both Shadybug AND Claw Noir black lipstick. 😆

-Chat and Claw's fight scene had me cracking up, both of them just taunting each other with the dumbest puns and being SO obnoxious, they barely even paused for breath. Do either of these two EVER shut up? 🤣 Imagine fighting yourself and you're both just going a mile a minute trying to sass each other to death-

-The parallel universe versions of Marinette and Adrien calling each other "fleabag" and "'cockroach" was pretty funny.

-Bad Marinette is way more interesting than regular Marinette, and bad Adrien is entertaining...can we please get a reboot about them?? And I mean BEFORE they decide to try being good. But when they do turn good, can they not change their costumes so much? I mean, what was wrong with those buns?? They looked good on Shadybug! And the outfit was more interesting, too. As for Claw Noir...keep him the same too, except for that hair. The hair should be changed regardless, just – ugh. 😆

-I know it's a low bar, but I find it funny how Good Gabriel has better fashion sense than his regular self.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #shadybug #claw noir #gabriel agreste #BETTERFLY #ml chloe #chat noir

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miraculous-pyxie · 1 year

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marinette headcanon time

marinette’s knees are filled with little scars and long-term bruises from how many time she falls over

she carries a very cute first aid kit in her backpack just in case her skin breaks or if she needs a quick ice pack (those lil crack and shake things that get really cold)

marinette became the go to person when somebody got hurt is phys ed when the teens were younger. she eventually got first aid certified.

marinette used to carry a bit more weight (you see her parents genetic make up) but from becoming ladybug she burns a lot of calories/fat from running around all day. to keep people/parents from getting suspicious, she starts running which keeps her even more in shape.

little marinette got into sewing because her mom always needed to repair her clothes from the rips and tears they would get from her falling over. she felt guilty about it so she said that she would do it. her mom taught her then she started teaching herself

I love the idea that Adrien and Marinette get stronger and more flexible from using the miraculous. Adrien has an excuse that this is how he needs to look for modeling (everyone believes that) but marinette has less of an excuse so she has to flub saying she started going to the gym and attempt to become less clumsy. not wanting it to be a lie, she starts going to a gym once a week for an hour (this is where she does her runs instead).

marinette meditates with her mom whenever she’s stressed and gets lightly told off when she starts fidgeting too much

along with Tikki’s cookies, marinette keeps a stash of protein shakes and protein bars in her room

marinette has ADHD so she is prone to zoning out and has accidentally zoned out in someone’s direction before then zones back in and profusely apologizes for ”staring” at them

marinette will hyperfocus on a project for hours and she has almost missed patrol several times because of it.

adding onto that, she will sometimes be working till 3 am so getting up at 7 am for school is really hard. (delayed sleep phase syndrome let’s goooo)

on top of that, coffee is her best friend. not because of the energy boost but it keeps her focused in school. (Alya doesn’t know about the ADHD at first and thinks her best friend has a severe coffee addiction)

from becoming ladybug, Marinette has actually gotten very coordinated. she was very clumsy as a kid, but now it only spikes when she feels emotionally vulnerable. (i.e. around Adrien, when she’s nervous)

Adrien is Marinette’s first big crush so for the first few weeks marinette actually was really uncomfortable. she was having an internal battle of never feeling something like a crush before and also beating herself up over the idea that this might be a celebrity crush and she’s just a crazy fan

i saw this somewhere else but marinette doesn’t like horror movies not because they scare her but because they are underwhelming to her. mari and the gang will be having a movie night and she’ll just sit their with her arms crossed and say “I’ve seen worse.” and alya nino and adrien will just looked at her absolutely baffled. (even though adrien is chat noir, he’s had less exposure to scary things growing up)

adding onto that, marinette 100% had unrestricted internet access as a kid but she does not let it show

Marinette doodles on her skin in pen and one time she was drawing on her arm in red pen in class and an akuma related explosion happened really close. The pen exploded all over her skin and it looked like she had just killed someone.

marinette wanted to join the costume department for theater but because of her crammed schedule she can’t do it. everyone is confused as to why she doesn’t bc she’s perfect for it.

marinette matches the color of her hair ties to her outfit

marinette is better at listening to people in chinese then speaking or writing it

marinette actually gets along with her grandma really well and that’s why her grandma knew exactly what bike to get her

even though Marinette’s focus is in high fashion, she loves learning about streetwear and street fashion in places like Japan and the US

she is an absolute force to be reckoned with when she’s being stubborn about something

she indulges in the confidence that being ladybug gives her from time to time so when chloe is back on her bs she claps back better than the last time

a personal retcon is she gets a hold of her boy crazy-ness after the first few weeks. (the show really did her dirty on this like stalking? stealing? they should not be promoting that behavior to kids tbh)

marinette wears her new designs to school. she also secretly has a commission style business (so she can keep on top of orders bc she is just 1 person)

all and all, she is a little frazzled gremlin and i wish we got more of that blunt ,frazzled, always-busy, gremlin side of her

that’s all i can think of for now :)

#miraculous fandom #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb fandom #mlb headcanon #marinette dupain cheng #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #mlb marinette #she needs better well rounding traits to bring out her true character #like she’s such a dorky lil thing i need everyone to see her the way i see her #i retcon a lot from the show #she deserves better tbh #just let her be a little gremlin that’s all i ask

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abyssal-ali · 4 months

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'tis the damn season

Pairing: Luka Couffaine x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: T | Ao3 | Masterlist

WC: 3.8k

A/N: For my wonderful Twinsie @wildbookcat 💜 Beta'd by @sneksnacc

Tiny flakes of powdery snow danced through the air, carried around by the whims of the wind. Luka envied their carelessness. Somehow, he had ended up at the Charles de Gaulle International Airport, waiting for his high school ex-girlfriend, who was also his little sister’s best friend, and thus someone he couldn’t avoid.

It wasn’t even that he was still heartbroken about the end of their ill-fated relationship (lie), or that they had ended on bad terms (was both parties being broken-hearted and depressed for the next several months ‘bad terms’?), the issue was that he didn’t know how Marinette was going to react.

They were now both adults, had a collective handful of ended relationships under their belts, and were mature enough to look past that summer, right?

Another gust of wind blew through the man-made wind tunnel–aka the main doors exiting the airport–and caused a shiver to go down Luka’s back. He was still affected by his reptilian Miraculous, though he’d returned it after Hawkmoth had been defeated seven years ago. He wondered how Marinette would deal with the snow and chill when she arrived, since she was even more attuned to her Miraculous than he had been, and she continued to wield the gems occasionally. Ladybugs didn’t like the cold either.

The doors slid open, another batch of travellers entering the snowy grey afternoon with a shiver.

A pink pom-pom caught his eye, and Luka stepped out of the car to wave at its owner.

“Marinette!”

Her head turned to him, surprise overtaking her features, before being replaced by a smile. “Luka!”

Her cheeks were already flushing pink, matching her coat and hat, Luka noticed when she stepped back from la bise. He picked up her suitcase, slung her bag over his arm, and motioned towards his blue VW Golf.

“Your parents were busy with the holiday rush, so they asked me to come get you when I was over there saying hi yesterday,” Luka explained, getting into the driver’s seat once he’d stored her things in the hatch.

“Couldn’t stay away from their pain au chocolat, huh?” Marinette teased him easily.

Luka exhaled soundlessly as he pulled away. Maybe this would go okay, after all.

“You know it. So, how long are you here for?”

Marinette settled back in her seat. “I’m not actually sure. I want something new, but old…no, familiar, at the same time.”

Luka hummed. “I hope you find it.”

“Thanks. So, why are you here? It’s been a while since either of us were in Paris,” she commented, blowing hot air on the window and doodling hearts and smiles with her fingertip.

“I thought it was time. Haven’t seen Ma and Juleka in a while, and I have friends here I wanted to catch up with. I’m currently on a break from producing, so I figured now was as good a time as any.”

“Right,” Marinette agreed. “It’s nice to see you again.”

And now the awkwardness was seeping through the car.

“You too; it’s been awhile,” he said softly. “I’m always happy to see you.”

Even if it hurts when I don’t.

Her gaze darted down to her mittenless hands, fidgeting with her short, buffed nails. Luka could see the calluses from being constantly pricked on the pads of her fingers; a thin red scrape on the side of her hand likely came from brushing against a pincushion the wrong way.

The snowflakes had gradually become larger and more frequent, so Luka turned on the wipers.

“So, I saw you snagged the honour of designing Clara’s outfit for the Grammys next year,” he commented to break the silence.

Usually, he was fine with silence, especially around Marinette, who often needed it, but right now he was acting very unlike himself. Coming back to Paris had stirred up all these old feelings and actions, and he cursed it in his mind.

“Yeah. I’m hoping coming back here will provide some inspiration. I want to pay homage to her roots,” Marinette explained. “We could go for a drive around all our old haunts, maybe. Oh, but you’ll probably be busy, sorry. I can drive around.”

“I’m not that busy.” He blurted the words before he thought. “You still don’t have a license, right? I don’t mind being your chauffeur.”

The snowflakes appeared to have come from Marinette’s sparkling eyes. “Thank you, Luka!” She watched him drive in silence for a while. “You haven’t really changed, even though you’re famous.”

He flicked a glance at her, slowing down for a red light. “You think so?”

She nodded. “You look older now, because you are, obviously, and your image-controlling people have changed your appearance somewhat, but at your core you’re still the same Luka I know from seven years ago.”

The light turned green, and Luka wondered if it was a sign for one delusional second before he pressed the gas again.

“Is that a compliment or not, Mari?” he asked, settling for a teasing inquisition instead.

‘It’s a good thing!” she insisted. “Okay, you’ve matured, but your essence is the same. You’re like…like a nice red wine! Aging improves a good thing!”

“Oh, so you’re calling me old now?”

Mari sputtered. “That’s not what I said at all! And men say women take things too seriously! Pfft!”

Luka couldn’t hold back his laugh as Marinette crossed her arms, her puffy jacket turning her into a cocoon of pink.

“I know what you meant, Mari; thank you for the compliment.”

She sniffed at the traces of humour in his penitent tone, but uncurled her arms.

“There’s the bakery. We should just have missed the closing rush,” Luka glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Have a good time, Marinette.”

“Thank you, you too! Oh, you can text me when you want to go for a drive. I still use the same number.”

“0-474-152-772?”

A wave of pink coated her cheeks. “You still remember it?”

I stare at it for a good half hour every week debating calling you or not. Of course I know it; it’s seared into my memory.

“Yep. I kept my old number too.” He popped the trunk and lifted her bags out.

“0-516-352-772?”

“Yep. Say hi to your parents for me!”

He placed her bags just inside the door, and then beat a hasty retreat. Why do you still remember my number?

~~~

How could she forget his number, when it spelled out her name?

Marinette sighed, waved goodbye at Luka’s car, then shut the door, ready to greet her parents.

“Maman! Papa! Guess who’s home!”

“Marinette! Sweetie, you made it!” Once the overwhelming hugs and bises had been exchanged, her parents looked curiously at the empty space behind her. “Luka got you here safely?” asked Sabine.

Mari nodded. “He was waiting for me at the airport; he asked me to say hi to you for him. He said you were busy with the holiday rush.”

Tom agreed. “We were sorry to miss picking you up, but our seasonal helper was sick, so we weren’t able to close and get you after all. Luka coming by and being free was fortunate.”

“It was nice to catch up with him,” Mari agreed. “I’ll just bring my bags up to my room and then we can catch up while we make dinner?”

“That sounds good,” agreed Sabine. Tom brought the luggage up, then left Mari to settle in after one more hug.

Looking around her room, Mari smiled at the remembrance of all the memories she had made in the pink space. Pictures clothespinned to her wall of fairy lights danced in the breeze as she twirled, releasing a deep breath and closing her eyes at the peace of being home again.

She could feel the ideas coming for Clara’s outfits.

It was a brilliant idea to come back to Paris.

~~~

It was a horrible idea to come back to Paris.

Why had he said yes to picking Marinette up?

Why had he said yes to driving Marinette around?

Why had he answered her text as soon as she sent it, at 2:08 am?

Why had he showed up at her door at 7:30 am, why had he let Tom drag him to the kitchen and feed him pastries (okay, that one was self-explanatory), why had he lingered and chatted, why why why.

The answer to all his questions was sitting in the passenger seat of the car he was borrowing from a friend, looking devastatingly beautiful and chattering away about how things had changed since she had left, a year before he had, and contrasting it to Los Angeles.

If he’d wanted to hear about her failed relationships after she defeated Hawkmoth, broke up with him, and moved away, he would have asked.

Luka was well aware that he was sulking, but he didn’t care at this moment. They were driving by College Francois Dupont, and the memories of that time weren’t the most pleasant.

“Ooh, I have an idea! Can you park here? I want to walk around for a bit.”

Luka dutifully pulled over, parking in an empty space between the school and the Methodist church down the block.

Marinette strolled around the quiet street, the fluffy flakes floating down muffling her footsteps and muttered monologue.

She returned to him eventually, scribbling away at her sketchbook.

Luka’s hand raised before he realised what he was doing.

“Luka? What are you doing?”

He blinked down at her, his hand frozen as she glanced up at him from under her bangs.

“You, um, snow-”

Why was he making this awkward? Biting the bullet, he gently brushed the accumulated snow off the top of Marinette’s ponytail.

She flashed him a smile and climbed back into her seat.

“Where to next, Mari?”

~~~

“So, any plans for your break?” Mari clutched a mug of cocoa in her hands, careful not to drop it over the edge of her balcony on the head of some unsuspecting passersby out admiring the lights.

Luka leaned his back against the balcony, blowing on his own mug. “I haven’t made anything firm yet, but I expect my schedule will fill up rather quickly.”

Mari hummed. “I guess I should book our hangouts while you’ve still got room for me then, Mr. Hot-Demand.”

“I’ll always have room for you, Mari.”

She smiled at him before turning back to the cityscape. “I’ve missed this view.”

The real view nudged her shoulder. “Old memories coming back, huh? I’m glad you’re able to miss it, Mar.”

“Did you miss it?” She turned on her back to be companionably side-to-side with him.

“The city? Not so much. The people in it? Yeah, I missed them a lot.”

She nodded in understanding. “Did you miss the people who weren’t in it, too?”

He sipped his cocoa. “Everyday.”

~~~

Marinette opened her eyes, breathing deeply. There was nothing like a full ten hours of sleep in your childhood room, warm and cozy under blankets as the snow drifted by the window hypnotizingly, your secret love snuggled up beside you-

Oh yeah, she’d made Luka stay the night, saying it was too cold to walk back home as her excuse to have him sleep here. Her fingers brushed a teal lock back from his forehead as she took in his peaceful features. Honestly, they weren’t much different from his usual everyday expressions. She envied his calm, never being able to stay still for long.

Luka shifted, blinking sleepily at her, a sleepy smile curving his lips. “Morning, Mari.”

His arm raised to trace a feather-light path down her cheek to cup her neck and pull her towards him.

She let him guide her closer, her breath catching in her throat.

“Mari, if you’re up, could you help out at the register for a bit?” called Sabine through the door.

Luka jerked away and Mari rolled out of bed with a thump. “Be there in a minute, Maman!”

“Are you okay?” he peeked over the edge of her mattress.

“Just fine,” she rubbed her behind. Luckily, the duvet had cushioned her fall.

“Er, sorry about that,” Luka ran his fingers through his messy locks.

“It’s fine,” she shrugged off the hurt, grabbing a pair of jeans and a flower-embroidered sweater off the back of her chaise. “Want me to save you anything for breakfast when I go down?”

“A quince pastry would be nice.”

“Got it. See you!” She fled down the stairs to the secondary powder room to change and twist her hair into a braid. Ready to suppress the feelings stoked by Luka’s earlier actions, she washed her hands and prepared to face the public.

Luka wandered downstairs a while later, looking neat and as if he hadn’t slept in her bed and almost greeted her with a kiss before they were interrupted and then ignored it.

She could feel Sabine and Tom pause in their work as they took in the situation and incorrectly interpreted it.

“Oh, I thought we missed you leaving last night, Luka,” smiled Sabine. “Are you-”

“Here’s your pastry,” interrupted Marinette, thrusting the napkin-wrapped goods into Luka’s hand. “You’re lucky I saved you the last one.”

“Er, lucky, yeah. About that. Can I talk to you? Later, I guess, when you’re not busy,” he cast a glance at the blatantly listening bakers.

“Sure. We can go for another drive in about an hour? Around one?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye, Tom, Sabine.” With a wave, he ducked out the door, leaving a bill in Marinette’s now-empty hands for the pastry.

She turned to her parents. “It’s not what it looks like. It was late and cold and I didn’t want him walking home in the snow-”

“Mhm,” Sabine raised a knowing brow. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Marinette shook her head. “Not yet.”

~~~

Luka shook his head, sending accumulated flurries flying off his hair. He’d had the most lovely dream, waking up to Marinette cosying up to him in his bed, smiling at him lovingly. Except it hadn’t been a dream, and he’d almost kissed her.

He was not going to go down the path they’d travelled in school, with the secrets and barriers between them. She still didn’t know he knew she was Ladybug and the Guardian, and she hadn’t told him. He wasn’t going to lie to himself; it hurt a little.

Realistically, he knew there were several reasons why she wouldn’t bring it up (not the least of which because she didn’t want to dredge up those traumas again) but emotionally, he was simply hurt by her still not trusting him with her identity even though she’d entrusted Sass and literal timelines to him.

Still, his therapist in the States had done him good.

He was going to tell Marinette he knew on their drive this afternoon, get everything off his chest, and then leave it in her hands while he returned to LA and broke his heart over her for the last time. Yep, sounded like a good plan.

~~~

Marinette climbed into the car. Luka closed her door, crossed the front, and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Where to?”

“I thought maybe we could just drive around this time, unless there’s somewhere you wanted to go?”

“No, that sounds fine.” He took a sip from the mocha she had supplied them with, humming appreciatively. “This is perfect; thanks, Mari.”

“You’re welcome.”

He started the car and pulled away.

They drove in silence for a while, occasionally pointing out some place they and their friends had adventures at.

Luka pointed at the tip of the Eiffel Tower. “That thing was destroyed more times than I can count.”

She made an agreeing noise, thinking back to some of the battles the Tower had seen.

“Marinette, I need to talk about something with you.”

She nodded, looking at the un-Luka-like tension in his body language. “Okay.”

“I was Viperion, on the Miraculous team. I reset so many timelines. It was impossible not to know who my allies were, with all the mishaps occurring. I’ve known you were Ladybug for years.”

She stilled, breathing stuttering as old trauma resurfaced. Someone knew she was Ladybug, something bad happened.

Reminding herself that Hawkmoth was gone, she wasn’t Ladybug anymore, and she was safe, she regulated her breathing and thoughts.

“I knew you were Ladybug when we were dating, and that your identity was why you were so hesitant to open up. I thought now would be a good time to tell you that you don’t have to keep that secret alone anymore.”

“Luka, I-”

“It’s okay, Mari. I didn’t hold it against you. After all, we were all kids. Just thought I could even the score before I leave, since we both know each other’s secret,” he muttered.

“I- you-” she stuttered, falling silent as her thoughts whirled.

“I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon,” he broke the silence after a few minutes. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told another soul and I never will. But, if you ever want to talk about it…you have my number.”

She nodded, still processing. “Thank you, Luka. For- well, everything. I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

He gave her a smile meant to be reassuring and forgiving, but she knew it was fake. “Have a happy new year, Marinette.”

Strangely feeling like she’d been broken up with, she closed the car door and walked into the bakery, where her parents met her.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

She shook her head. “I think I need to take you up on your offer to talk about it.”

~~~

Luka packed his suitcase methodically, thoughts with one person miles away.

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d told her he knew.

Maybe for her to ask him out again since they had no secrets between them anymore? Okay, that was his wildest dream, but he supposed she hadn’t changed that much, still taking her time to process things. Not that he blamed her–having a magical emotional terrorist attacking your city didn’t exactly inspire impulsive actions regarding your feelings.

His therapist had told him that there were seasons in one’s life, and sometimes people were only meant to be with you for a season, like a flower. Others were like trees, there no matter the weather. He wanted her to be a tree, but maybe she was only a flower. Whatever she was, he’d always remember the beauty of her blooms and the sweetness of her perfume.

“‘Tis the damn season,” he mumbled, slinging his guitar case over his back and picking up his suitcase.

He’d left her with a reminder of his phone number. Hoping she’d call him one day, he drove to the airport. He only realised he’d chosen the route that took him by the bakery as he passed it, peering in the window to catch a glimpse of Marinette working the register.

~~~

Marinette wasn’t having a good day. She’d taken forever to fall asleep, tossing and turning as she stewed over Luka and her parents’ advice.

They’d understandably been surprised by her explanation of the inner workings of her and Luka’s short-lived relationship, but provided some valuable outside-perspective commentary.

After a fitful sleep, she’d been working the register while her parents worked on a rush-order of pastries, her mind consumed by thoughts of Luka.

“Here’s your change, ma’am. Have a happy new year!” Handing the coins over, she wiped her hands on her apron and tidied up the counter space.

Clean up complete, she ran upstairs to change into jeans, boots with Ladybug pom-poms, a turtleneck, and her favourite Viperion hoodie she’d worn thin.

She tossed a quick goodbye over her shoulder to her parents and ran out the door, waving her hand at an approaching taxi.

“International airport, please,” she huffed, buckling her belt.

“Hope you’re not late for your flight, mademoiselle. The snow is slowing traffic,” said the driver.

Marinette clasped her hands to stop her nervous fidgeting, calling on all of Tikki’s luck that she’d arrive before Luka’s flight left.

~~~ Luka wasn’t having a good day. He’d slept off and on, was leaving his first love behind, and now he couldn’t even do that because of the sudden snowstorm. All flights were postponed or cancelled for the time being.

So far his flight was only cancelled, so he found a comfortable piece of carpet to claim and began strumming an imaginary guitar while he waited for updates.

Snippets of lyrics floated through his brain as he composed a piece containing his feelings in the moment.

“I won’t ask you to wait…if you don’t ask me to stay…” He hummed softly.

The sound of running feet made him look up, curious who thought they were late for a flight that wasn’t taking off.

“Marinette?” “Luka?”

She paused in front of him, catching her breath.

“Why are you here?” he asked cautiously, getting to his feet.

“To see you,” she panted. “Didn’t want you to go.”

His heart picked up pace as if he’d been the one running through the airport. “Really?” “Really. I want you. I have for years. Is there any way you can stay?” she asked softly.

“I’ll stay any way I can if you ask, Ma-ma-marinette,” he grinned. “I love you. I never stopped.”

She tiptoed to be face-to-face with him. “I love you too,” she whispered in his ear before greeting him with a soft kiss. It felt like home and the beginning of everything and the end of everything and the past and future all wrapped up into one amazing kiss in the present.

He cupped her face in his hands, resting his forehead on hers.

~~~

Luka drove them back to the bakery, keeping her hand entwined with his. They stepped into the entry, stomping snow off their boots. Sabine and Tom greeted them as if it was an everyday occurrence, though Marinette saw the happy spark in their eyes.

“Just in time for the party!” boomed Tom. “Dinner is ready; let’s sit!”

After a festive new year’s eve dinner and delicious buche, Luka and Marinette carried their flutes of champagne up to Marinette’s balcony to watch the firecrackers and revellers beneath them.

Chanting filled the air, little sparks in the distance showing where firecrackers had been set off.

“10! 9!” The countdown to the new year had begun.

“My new year’s resolution is to have the woman I love become my girlfriend. Will you be my girlfriend?” Luka asked.

“4!”

Marinette nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

“3! 2! 1!”

Horns sounded, firecrackers popped, and hollers filled the air, but Marinette and Luka heard none of it, too wrapped up in each other.

“Joyeuse annee, Luka.”

“Bonne annee, Marinette.”

#ali writes #Lukanette #Fic #Marinette dupain cheng x Luka Couffaine

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mikodrawnnarratives · 4 months

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I finished the pretty gorls ON TIME!

2022 Version

2021 Version

(I'm also going to reblog them right after this is posted)

I'm gonna ramble under the cut about the designs n stuff but you can scroll past that to get to the timelapse if u want.

@jotg-miraculousrewriteau is where you'll see any updates about this story/au/rewrite I have going on if you get interested. It'll take some time before I get around to writing it but I'll be trying to draw more. I'll list some reasons for why I haven't gotten much out recently under the cut. Not abandoning the au tho!

This one was a STRUGGLE and part of it was because I still liked last year's and because my interest in ml has taken a back burner with other interests BARGING IN this year.

Not to say that I don't want to work on my rewrite anymore, but I'm probably gonna do some more rewatching so I can get fully back into it again. I can't really plop down what I've come up with for the rewrite and be satisfied anyway, so I'm stuck until I get the thing written and drawn.

THAT ASIDE, I changed up their posing again and included updates to the character design. I don't know if what I've drawn Marinette in here will stick for her redesign as far as outfits are concerned, but I don't really like the previous outfit I gave her anymore so I needed to work with something new.

Overall I like how this turned out, even if I'm a bit unsure abt other areas.

Specifics: Once again, I liked coloring and drawing Marinette more which shouldn't be a surprise since I have more to work with in her design. I made the foolish mistake of not including her freckles in the past, so now I'm amending for that. She's sort of matching her bf now.

I included some lore bits abt Tikki and Marinette's complicated relationship here that I haven't talked abt before. Marinette is not doing anything to Tikki intentionally, but I have a plot line in the story I have planned that involves how the kwamis went from deities to kwamis. Got caged in the miraculous. And the consequences that follow.

INcluding Marinette and Tikki gaining a strained relationship for the majority of the story.

But that's all I'll say on that for now.

You might notice Marinette's skintone has changed a bit from other redesigns. What happened was, when I was first coming up with ideas for the rewrite, I was going off of critisysms I saw a lot and noting them down. One, was that Mari didn't look like she was biracial and her skin tone should reflect that. Now. I was young and figured "Oh okay! So. Lets look up what average chinese skintones are!" ...I found the racist color swatches that got pretty close to yellow and I ignorantly changed her skin tone to that.

So! Now her skin tone is closer to canon's and I've decided anything about her heritage isn't something I'll tackle in my rewrite/au since I'm not qualified. I still have some things I've changed so she looks similar to both parents, but no more of that skin tone.

Lol I didn't get the timelapse started until the basic sketches were completed

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toxinellebug · 2 months

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Shadybug’s Revenge- The Sweet & The Sour

(Hopefully an extra long post will make up for the wait. Please enjoy the strange French idioms and google their english counterparts.)

Just as there is no such thing as a free lunch, Magic ALWAYS comes with a price.

Especially when it is used for selfish or evil purposes.

Playing fast and loose with powers beyond your understanding was a recipe for disaster.

—————————————————————-

Marinette had so many ideas, none of which she intended to use more than once.

A pattern is trackable, it can be defended against, followed. Repeating the same tactics was a sure fire way to get caught.

So, as satisfying as it was to pilfer Sabrina’s locker, leaving Chloe without an acceptable excuse for not having a week’s worth of homework, it wasn’t a plan that could be used again.

Because Sabrina wasn’t stupid; she would realize she was being targeted and her locker wasn’t safe.

As an expert in breaking into lockers herself after years of doing so at Chloe’s command, the ginger-haired girl would have no problem hanging back to see who was lurking about the lockers when all other students should be elsewhere.

She could possibly even plant a booby-trap in hopes of identifying the culprit.

No, it was better that the homework thing was a single occurrence. Frequent theft would alert Chloe. This way, it was more likely to be believed as Sabrina’s incompetence rather than sabotage; leaving Chloe furious at her personal servant and none the wiser.

Marrinette DID have plans for Chloe’s own locker, but that would have to wait- multiple instances involving lockers so close together was too suspicious.

That was fine, it gave Marinette more time to experiment-

The biggest perk of her new powers was the “Lucky Charm”, which had limits;

She could only summon 1 Lucky Charm at a time. If she tried to summon a 2nd, 3rd, or 4th Lucky Charm, then the previous Lucky Charm would disappear.

BUT!

The Lucky Charm would remain, even if she de-transformed, until she willed it away.

Of course this meant that if she transformed again and tried summoning a new Lucky Charm, then the item she summoned from her last transformation would disappear, but this also meant she could keep a Lucky Charm for as long as she wanted, even if it was out of her sight.

This was by far the most useful function, since just as dough can take hours to rise, sometimes a plan needs a few days before it bears fruit.

——

The Le Grand Paris was a fortress of a Hotel.

Andre Bourgeois took great care in sparing no expense when it came to security; from the latest cameras and alarms to bribing Enforcers to do extra patrols around the Concorde.

Sneaking inside was going to be a challenge that would take a while to plan out.

Thankfully, there was something else M. Bourgeois took pride in.

Being married to the renowned “Queen of Style”, meant if he didn’t want to end up in

la niche du chie, he couldn’t let their “little princess” wear anything that was out of season.

As far as Chloe was concerned, any outfit that was a year old was considered a moldy antique, and she would sooner die than wear the same dress twice.

Which meant she got new clothes more often than the Boulangerie got flour deliveries.

But Chloe Bourgeois did not “go shopping”. That was for average, poor people.

Instead, she selected only the most expensive designs from fashion catalogs and had them wrapped and delivered straight to her room.

It’s been said that there is no parade more elaborate than the monthly draught of butlers and bellboys; their arms overloaded with carefully wrapped parcels that stacked above their heads, marching single file down the halls of the Le Grand Paris, marshaled in by security staff guiding them with orange batons like an aviation ground crew, all the way to Chloe’s personal suite.

Should a single shoebox be dropped, the fool responsible would be fired on the spot.

This was typically followed by “the purge”, where clothes, shoes, and accessories from the front of her closet that were deemed too old and “utterly useless”, were carried out to the incinerator with other burnable trash.

Items from the middle would be pushed to the front, and the items in the back moved to the middle, making the back of the closet free for all her new purchases.

It was her father’s idea of being “frugal”, only replacing part of his daughter’s wardrobe at a time to get the most use out of her “older” clothes, and her newer purchases having to wait to be shown off…

Unless something came up where she needed to demonstrate her superiority.

Chloe Bourgeois was waste incarnate; and her “wardrobe refresh” had a schedule you could set your clock by.

THIS was the Hotel’s weakness- the flaw in its top rate security.

The tricky part was deciding how to take advantage of it.

Marinette had an idea of what she wanted to do, but putting it into motion without anyone suspecting anything magical was the catch.

As much as she wanted Chloe to suffer, breaking the rules The Supreme had set would only lead to her own downfall.

Thankfully, her Lucky Charm was intuitive; it seemed to know exactly what she wanted to do and provided her with an object that was best suited to achieve her goals.

This was something she had to remind herself of, because the red and black polka-dotted hard cover of a thick book on flying insects was the last thing she was hoping for.

She hated bugs.

But so did Chloe.

The longevity of the Lucky Charm was tested, as it took four days for Marinette to find a page that inspired her.

Truly, using her Miraculous was far more educational than spending time in school;

Mme. Mendeleiev never went into specific details about certain species of bugs, like the Tineola bisselliella.

Prior to receiving her earrings, Marinette would have never guessed that breaking into the entomology lab of the Sorbonne University Pierre and Marie Curie Campus, only a few blocks away from the recently fully condemned ruins of The Notre Dame Cathedral, was far easier than trying to sneak into the Le Grand Paris Hotel.

Before her powers, she would have no way of knowing that while Enforcer Patrols on the 8th arrondissement are quite heavy along the store fronts along the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, the backsides of the stores where trucks and delivery vans load, were rather lacking in security. Only a single outer camera per building, and only 1 patrol sweep per hour based on her Lucky Charm radar.

There was definitely no way Collège would teach her how to fool a hard-wired camera that would sound an alarm if physically tampered with.

That trick she learned on her own-

Her yoyo’s ‘phone’ also conveniently had a camera function.

Positioning herself on the dove white cement block wall just above the security camera allowed her to get just the right angle to snap a pic of the loading doors.

Using the string of the yoyo and wire from a discarded clothing hanger in a nearby dumpster, she was able to affix the screen of the ‘bug-phone’ displaying the pic in front of the security camera lens far away enough to see the screen but close enough that the red and black edges of the yoyo were out of sight.

With this, she could take her time picking the lock with her Lucky Charm to get inside without anything showing up on camera footage.

(*POSSIBLE S5 SPOILERS*

Idk if you remember, but in the Paris Special it clearly showed that, just like Ladybug in the 5th season finale in her fight against Monarch, Shadybug has enough control over her powers that she doesn’t need to throw up her yoyo to summon a lucky charm.)

Dior… Chloe’s go-to shoe brand.

Unlocking the back door? C'est du gâteau!

The problem would be what awaited on the other side.

Summoning another Lucky Charm gets her a small red and black hand-held object even smaller than the patrol radar. Its shape reminds her of those ‘walkie-talkies’ she’s seen in old movies, but this has 3 antennas and a glowing LCD screen with a large central button.

The screen reads:

WIFI2.4G: 2400-2500MHz WIFI5.2G: 5125-5350MHz WIFI5.8G: 5725-5850MHz

Marinette has never seen a device like this, but she has a strong gut feeling that she knows what it does.

This was the moment of truth….

Pressing the central button makes all 3 lines of text blink before changing to:

{disabled}

Heart racing, she opens the door- it is pitch black save for 3 small red LED lights in the center back and sides of the room, indicating the presence of interior cameras- obviously placed to catch employees slacking off when they should be loading or unloading product, or as a back-up in case the hard wired camera outside was disabled.

The interior cameras would no doubt transmit video directly to a monitored, online data center rather than the closed system outside that was recorded and viewed later.

There was no telling how long the WIFI could be down before interruption of service alerts Enforcers to do an extra sweep of the area, so she pushes the button on the jammer again.

Based on a previous internet search, she now had roughly 5 minutes for the cameras to reboot, and even less time before the door alarms go off.

As luck would have it, similar to her parents’ store, the keypad for the alarm is on the wall right next to the back door.

Leaning in close and using the glow from the signal jammer’s LCD screen, she quickly glances at the 4 most worn out numbers on the key pad.

The number of guesses she has is irrelevant; she only has 30 seconds worth of ‘tries’ before the alarms blare and all nearby Enforcer cars surround the building.

‘No pressure.’

She gets it on her 5th try.

But that doesn’t mean she can relax…

The timer is still counting down on when the cameras will be up and running once more, and she needs to locate Chloe’s order before then.

The blinking of the red LED lights alerts her that her time is up and she dives behind a pallet full of boxes by a far corner in what she can only hope is a blind-spot, ducking out of sight just as the lights changed from blinking red to a solid green.

She takes a moment to catch her breath-assuming she hasn’t lost count, she now has about 36 minutes to find the shoes set aside for Chloe, make the switch, then re-set the alarm, lock the doors, and retrieve her yoyo before the next Enforcer Patrol comes by.

If she was caught, she had no doubt The Supreme would ensure she was never heard from again.

Yeah, she would be the world’s biggest liar if she tried to tell herself she wasn’t scared out of her mind right now… Who wouldn’t be?

Why did she think she could do this??

This back room storage area was way larger than she anticipated, (it was only the first floor, surely the bottom floor was only for incoming and outgoing products while the upper 4 floors had their own storage rooms for their respective merchandise, right??) and she had no flashlight- not that she could use it while the cameras were on.

She didn’t want to interrupt the WIFI signal again until she needed to leave; the WIFI going out for too long or going out then coming back on again right away too many times would probably be the same as announcing that somebody was here messing with the system.

If her plan was to go without a hitch, there couldn’t be ANY reason for anyone to suspect that Chloe’s order had been tampered with.

Comment diable was she supposed to find anything in the dark in under 30 minu-

…. Tu te fous de ma gueule?!

It had to be the magic earrings, there was no way Marinette Dupain Cheng could ever be THIS lucky;

There, on the pallet of boxes she had chosen to hide behind, illuminated by the faint glow of the LCD screen in her hand, was the letter “B”.

A slow sweep across the label revealed O…U…R…G…E….

‘Y a pas moyen...’

…O…I…S.

30 boxes worth of flats, heels, and boots.

For Chloe?

Yup. That seemed about right.

Marinette didn’t have enough materials for all of them, but she would make do.

Quickly picking out 8 boxes of flats, she opened the fanny pack she’d swiped from the back of her father’s closet and pulled out what looked like 16 desiccant packs.

Enough for 1 per shoe- only someone looking closely with a keen eye would be able to tell that the words “silica gel” had been hand stamped on each paper sachet, rather than professionally printed, and sealed with a glue-stick instead of a heat press.

Carefully swapping the real packs for her fakes, Marinette was careful to re-package the designer tissue paper in each shoe box and stack them up carefully on the pallet.

The morning crew would come and see to it that each box was professionally wrapped, and then loaded onto a delivery van headed to the Le Grand Paris so that Chloe could enjoy a Friday after school “parade”.

Pressing the jammer button on and off again gave Marinette 5 minutes to run back to the back door, press the “arm system” button, and lock the door behind her.

She only needed 2.

Leaping up the side of the building, she retrieved her yoyo and checked the watch function; still 8 minutes to spare before the next Enforcer patrol.

Ha! Hardly exciting (je touche du bois.)

She couldn’t believe it; she’d just successfully broken into DIOR.

At this rate, a heist at Le Grand Paris would be a snap!

Who would’ve ever believed that clumsy Marinette was such a pro at pulling off heists? Was this what success felt like?

It felt pretty good!

All that was left to do now was parkour her way back home, dump the desiccant packs, then wait until her parents went down to open the Bakery in the morning to return her father’s vintage bag to the forgotten depths of his bedroom closet.

He’d never know it’d been missing.

In 3 days, the tiny, pinhead sized eggs stolen from the University lab would hatch into voracious larva that would eat their way through the paper sachets before beginning to devour every designer blouse, skirt, and dress they could crawl to.

By the time Chloe reached the back of her closet and noticed the chew holes, the damage would be done… Thousands of euros worth of damage, and the larva would have already found hiding spots to form their cocoons.

De-transforming inside her room, Marinette giggled at the thought of Chloe opening her closet doors weeks later and screaming through a face full of fluttering moths.

The imagery alone made it worth how exhausted she felt.

Was this the fatigue you were supposed to feel once the surge of adrenaline wore off?

Well, nothing a few hours sleep wouldn’t cure.

———

…Or not.

The shrieking tone of the morning alarm was enough to make anyone curse, and Marinette was no exception… But she couldn’t recall the last time it was enough to make her wake up with a headache.

All of her muscles felt sore, which didn’t make sense since the suit did all the hard work and physical exertion.

Was this still that adrenaline burn out? Or did she manage to come down with something?

She wouldn’t be surprised; spending too much time outside and breathing in Parisian night air was guaranteed to make you sick.

But without an actual fever, her mom would never let her stay home from school.

She would have to suck it up and muscle her way through the day.

It would probably also be a good idea to avoid transforming for the next few days- she’d definitely had enough excitement to last her for a while and a break was overdue….

….That had been the plan anyway.

But some opportunities were just too good to pass up!

Gabriel Agreste, yes, The Gabriel Agreste, famous designer of the world renowned “GABRIEL” brand was holding a derby hat design contest at HER school!

The winning hat would even be featured in his next Fashion Show!

La cerise sur le gatea? M. Agreste himself was coming to select the winner. IN. PERSON.

This was HUGE.

There would even be live news coverage!

Though Marrinette was pretty sure this was mostly a publicity stunt thought up by the school to make angry parents forget about “The Boiler Room Incident,” she couldn’t deny that this was a rare chance.

Not for her, of course.

There was no way Chloe would leave her alone if Marinette tried to enter, and with her being so close to M. Agreste’s son, it would just take one word from the blonde and Marinette would not only be disqualified, but probably black-listed as well.

That was fine.

Okay, no, it wasn’t fine.

It was the exact opposite of fine! And totally unfair!!!

But…

Avoir d’autres chats à fouetter.

After all, years of being Chloe’s figurative punching bag meant Marinette knew Chloe’s ultimate weakness; Attention.

The only thing Chloe loved more than her hair was being in the spotlight.

A chance to appear on TV alongside Adrien Agreste was as good as a siren’s song.

But there was no way that Chloe had any hope of winning that contest, unless she cheated.

Cheating happened to be one of the few things Chloe was actually good at, and she did so every chance she got.

It was almost too predictable; Chloe would just have Sabrina steal someone else’s idea, then, without lifting a finger, pay a professional to make it for her, then present the hat at the contest as her own work.

It would be Chloe’s word versus her victim’s, and Marinette knew exactly how that would play out.

This was also in her favor; no matter what, that evil girl would INSIST the design was her own, even though she wouldn’t bother to take notice of whatever it was.

Chloe never cared about what she stole, only that she felt joy in making the people she stole from suffer.

It didn’t matter who got hurt.

There was no way to know who was entering the contest without taking a peek at the sign-up sheet, and there was no way Marinette could risk doing that without painting a target on her back.

It was so much easier to make yourself invisible when people weren’t actively seeking you out to make your life miserable.

Chloe had a new favorite patsy, (some opinionated girl with glasses), and Marinette had no intention of reminding her former bully that she still existed.

Besides, she didn’t need to know who Chloe decided to steal from.

All she needed was her earrings, a little something from home, and a quick online search of the schedule for today’s bus routes.

The judging would take place 2 hours after the end of the school day. Not much time for a teenager to put together a hat from scratch, but for a professional Milliner it was nothing.

Which is why when lunch time hit, it was no surprise that Sabrina left Chloe’s side to “eat lunch at home today”.

As if.

The 32 bus wouldn’t take Sabrina anywhere near her apartment.

But it would take her to Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, where some name dropping and the Bourgeois credit line would allow her to have any boutique or atelier drop everything to create whatever design she brought to them, no questions asked.

It would also ensure that afterwards, everyone would deny her ever coming there in the first place.

(The name ‘Audrey Bourgeois’ carried a lot of weight, and her daughter never hesitated to throw it around.)

Now, the thing about Sabrina Raincomprix was that she was a good lackey; obedient, dedicated, and cautious.

Having a strict, Enforcer father who believed in “Guilty until proven innocent.” meant that she was paranoid about getting caught doing Chloe’s dirty work, and would go to great lengths to keep her ‘master’ from falling under suspicion.

The ginger-haired girl wouldn’t be eating anything today; her lunch break would be spent traveling to deliver the stolen hat design, then taking the long way back to school to avoid being spotted.

This also meant that after school, she would have to take a bus back to pick up the finished derby, then take a 2nd bus that would drop her off near Place de la Concorde, then take a 3rd bus back to the school so it looked like she had only gone straight to the Grand Paris Hotel to pick up Chloe’s hat and bring it to the school for her, because heaven forbid that brat should carry anything herself.

The final trait that made Sabrina such a good servant?

She was punctual.

Due to Chloe’s short temper, Sabrina had an extreme case of what Max Kanté had once called “Allegrophobia.”

She was so afraid of being yelled at for not being on time that she had a consistent habit of not double checking things before rushing off to where she was ordered to be.

Even the tiniest of delays was enough to give her anxiety.

Marinette knew from experience just how easy it was for someone to take advantage of your anxiety.

It was high time those 2 got a taste of their own medicine.

However, this would require a sacrifice, and a risk bigger than any she had taken so far.

The Supreme had been clear; she could not be seen, no one was to know about the existence of her Miraculous or magic.

It was for this reason that she had carefully restricted use of her powers to inside her room, the rooftops at night, or in secluded places where she was absolutely sure no other living soul was around.

But if she was going to out-cheat the world’s nastiest cheater, Marinette would have to transform in broad daylight and intercept Sabrina en route.

If Sabrina- no, if anyone saw even a hint of her spots, it was all over!

She could see it now; The Bakery forced to shut down, her parents sent to a Penitentiary camp, her citizenship revoked- no, make that her very name erased from existence and she was forced to work underground in some coal mine with weighted balls and chains around her ankles, never again allowed to see the light of day!

… Okay, so nowhere had it specifically said any of that was going to happen, but The Supreme did say the penalty would be severe, and honestly? It was possible.

If she was really going to go through with this, she would have to be quick and more than a little clever.

She doubted her Lucky Charm could conjure up an item to erase people’s memories.

So far, all her Lucky Charms had been items that actually existed- hard as it was to believe that something like magic could have limitations.

Not that Marinette would ever leave her fate up to magic alone, not when she had technology on her side.

The internet was just as powerful as her earrings, only instead of ‘Lucky Charms’ it could conjure up things like detailed city maps with street views via satellite, as well as the pick-up times of the buses that stopped at those streets.

It was only a matter of deciding which one of those streets would be ideal for an ambush.

The hardest part?

Coming up with an excuse to get out of running the cash register at the Bakery after school.

Marinette reviewed the options in her head;

Lying about wanting to enter the design contest wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Faking an illness was just as pointless- her mom would stand watch to make sure the thermometer wasn’t tampered with while checking for a temperature.

Any studying for a major test could be done after the Bakery closed and before she went to bed.

Non, nope, and no bueno.

If she wanted to escape her after-school obligations, she not only had to be creative…

She had to be gross.

——

She was late coming home after school, she had to make a detour to find a Picard vending machine.

Luckily, her leather satchel made it easy to conceal her purchases.

She ran past the Bakery counter, ignoring her mother’s glare and answering demands of “Where have you been?!” with her own rushed “Can’tTalkMyStomachIsKillingMe!” as she raced up the stairs to the 2nd floor bathroom.

Locking the door behind her, she stared at the toilet with dread.

Her kwami floated out from her bulky jacket pocket to stare at her with what Marinette imagined was the creature’s own version of a cringe.

Well, nobody asked for its opinion.

Vending machine bread was cheap, but the taste was way off in her humble opinion. Too much yeast. Though she hadn’t purchased it with the intention of eating it…

A minute, maybe a minute and a half was all it took for the brioche to bloat up after hitting the water. A single flush was all that was needed to make the evidence vanish, as well as clog the drain.

She pulled out the plastic covered slice of chocolate cake and hesitated; no matter what she made it look like, ganache dissolved in water wouldn’t fool anyone.

“Vous ne pouvez pas utiliser un gâteau au chocolat pour raconter des salades.”

Not without miraculous intervention, at least.

Tikki visibly winced before being sucked into the earrings as Marinette transformed.

No idea why; it should be used to it by now…

She had no idea what Lucky Charm could possibly make her little act convincing, but here goes nothing-!

A small round object wrapped in red plastic with black polkadots landed in her hand.

What was she supposed to do with this??? What even was this?!

She slowly tore open the packaging and - Merde! Was this camembert??

Yup, that’ll do it.

Holding her breath and resisting the urge to gag, she smushed the cheese between her palms for a moment to let it “breathe”, before breaking off bits and plunking the pieces into the porcelain bowl.

Squashing the still wrapped slice of cake in a similar manner, she opened that up and dumped it in the water as well.

De-transforming, she stuffed both wrappers into the inner pockets of her jacket and waited.

According to the time on her phone, 11 minutes had passed before her mother came pounding on the door, inquiring just what she was doing in there?!

Well, she wasn’t folding pastries…

Saying that would’ve been counter-productive though, so instead Marinette gave her most pitiful groan before stammering about clogging the toilet.

The door handle shook and her mother ordered her to open up.

‘As you wish, mommy dear…’

Thankfully, her facial expression didn’t match her thoughts.

Sabine Cheng covered her nose and mouth with horror as Marinette sheepishly stepped out of the bathroom, hunched over and clutching her stomach.

Her pink streaked hair in was in disarray, and her heavy eyeliner was running from sink-water “tears” as she mumbled about how much her stomach had been bothering her since lunch.

Her mother doesn’t even bother to hide her agitation and disgust as she waves her away; ordering her to take some Imodium from the medicine cabinet in the 4th floor bathroom, then go up to her room.

She’ll bring her something light for supper later if she’s feeling hungry, but for now she has to find some gloves so she can sort out the toilet quickly and get back down to watch the register.

Marinette deserved a César Award for the way she trudged up the stairs, head down in shame, her dark pigtails a droopy, frazzled mess.

Once she made it to the 3rd floor, she bolted up to her room faster than galette sold out on La Fête des Rois.

The anticipation was starting to get to her, she actually felt her stomach turning for real, but there wasn’t a moment to spare.

She had 1 last thing to grab from her room before setting things in motion…

Her transformation (still didn’t have a name for it yet, not as if she really needed to since it was a secret), was only needed to get her from her balcony to the rooftop of the building next door.

De-transforming back, Marinette made her way down the fire-escape before making a beeline for the bus stop.

She needed to get to Sabrina’s return route before the ginger-haired girl made her way back to Place de la Concorde.

There was nothing suspicious about Marinette riding the bus- she was just a normal girl, with a normal, crappy life, wasting what was left of her precious pocket money on public transportation.

(For real though; what did it take to get a red and black wallet Luck Charm filled with cash??? For the record, she was perfectly ok with said cash vanishing from reality after it’d already been spent.)

Traveling by yoyo would be lot faster, but not even thick Parisian smog could hide that loud red and black suit.

You’d think if The Supreme wanted her to stay hidden so badly, she would be given a Miraculous that was more inconspicuous than black and red spots on hexagonal spandex.

Whatever.

Picking an alleyway with a dumpster to hide behind that would still give her a somewhat decent view of the sidewalk was simple enough after having studied the street views online.

What she was unprepared for was the absolute boredom of waiting for Sabrina’s bus to arrive-

Whoever came up with the saying “There is only late or on time.” clearly had never arrived an hour early with nothing else but the thoughts in their own head to keep them occupied.

Marinette had chosen a spot roughly 9 meters away from the next bus stop Sabrina would have to take to connect her route.

After getting off one bus, it should take her around 17 minutes to walk over from point A.

The goal was to intercept before she could make it to point B.

It was laughable how easy it was to crouch behind a dumpster in the middle of the day without drawing any attention.

Laughable, in a sad, nobody-cares-where-you-are-or-what-you’re-doing-and-never-will, kind of way…

The timer on her phone beeped, signaling Marinette to transform and summon her Lucky Charm…

A bag of Marbles?

Guess it was time to test how well super-powers affected aim.

Staying low with as much of her body behind the bin that she could manage and still peek out, she waited for the first hint of orange hair and an argyle sweater vest.

Her timing was nothing short of miraculous; her thumb flicking the tiny glass ball and shooting it out perfectly beneath the sole of a wedged sneaker, sending Sabrina tumbling backwards, her glasses flying free through the air, hat box dropping from her arms to roll into the nearby alley.

A snap of the fingers had the black and red marble vanish from existence. As far as anyone could tell, that silly girl had tripped over her own feet.

Flailing around to find her wayward glasses took priority, giving Marinette the time she needed to swap out the derby in the hat box, roll it closer to the alley entrance, then de-transform and make herself as small as possible behind the piles of garbage next to the metal bin.

The minutes were ticking away and Sabrina was absolutely frantic as she picked up the box and sprinted towards the stop just as her next bus screeched to a halt- loudly pleading for it not to take off immediately without her onboard.

Marinette would end up waiting a little longer, making sure the bus was long gone before she left that alley to head towards a different stop that would take a more direct route near her home so she could sneak back up to her room before Sabrina could make it back to school.

She came in the same way she’d gotten out, and there was no sign she’d been missed.

No surprise there…

De-transforming left her with a sharp, throbbing pain in her abdomen that had her bent over and hugging herself, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth.

Qu'est-ce que???

It wasn’t that time of the month yet, but this was the same level of cramping she would expect on ‘heavy flow’ days.

Was it from climbing up and down several flights of the fire escape? Or maybe she really was sick? She had been spending a lot of time outdoors, practicing with her yoyo and getting used to ducking behind billboards and scaling buildings.

Also, sitting next to literal garbage probably didn’t do her any favors.

Whatever it was, the solution was clear; She just needed to take a few nights off, maybe get more than 3-4 hours of sleep for a change.

But for right now, she needed to watch the news.

Turning on her laptop, Marinette opened the TVi News webpage and clicked on their livestream.

It would’ve been great to witness the event in person, but she couldn’t risk being seen by Chloe.

Besides, she wouldn’t have to worry about hiding her own reactions to what was about to go down when she was in the safety of her own room.

Clara Contard introduced herself reporting live from the Françoise Dupont cafeteria where students were about to introduce their original Derby Hat creations!

She was overly chipper as she told viewers how today’s winning design would not only be selected by Gabriel Agreste, but also modeled by his son, teen supermodel Adrien Agreste, in his next fashion show!

The camera panned for a wide view to show all of the students who were competing standing at different tables, some nervous, some excited, all waving to the camera.

Marinette recognized a few of the students either from having shared a classroom in previous years, or simply from them laughing at her in the hallway.

Honestly? She hated everyone who entered the contest, with the exception of 2 people, though she doubted they had any chance of winning.

There was a feverish murmer in the background before Mme. Contard announced that the “stars” of the show had arrived; the camera cut to the cafeteria doors opening for Gabriel and Adrien Agreste’s grand entrance.

M. Agreste was taller than Marinette thought he’d be; silver hair parted down the middle, round, white framed glasses, and dressed in a palette of soft blues and neutrals.

He was a far cry from the intimidating design mogul she’d envisioned. But if anything, that made more sense-

This looked exactly like the type of man who would spoil his son rotten; too weak-willed to say “no” to any outrageous demand.

As for Adrien,

Well, it’s not like they had any classes together, and she was always too busy keeping her head down and avoiding being noticed to ever pass him by in between periods, but he also looked different than what she’d expected based on the billboard ads and posters littered all over the city, or as she liked to call them, “visual pollution.”

His hair was cut asymmetrically, and the eye make-up was new…

But what was with that outfit?

Exactly what look was he going for; Sterile-punk in Asylum white?

Mon Dieu, that had better not be the next trend!

Marinette’s huff of annoyance at this point was habitual- she wasn’t interested in watching Chloe’s BFF strut and smile for the camera.

His every move, from the way he walked to his practiced wave was so overly rehearsed and unnaturally flawless, Marinette wouldn’t be surprised if someone told her he was an AI generated hologram rather than an actual human being.

What a stuck-up showoff…

Honestly, she wasn’t really interested in watching any of the contestants either, save for Chloe. But who knows? Maybe she could enjoying watching Fashion Icon Gabriel Agreste verbally rip into each of their designs and leave them in tears like that one cooking show with the angry British Chef?

At least that would be entertaining.

No such luck.

The man was the definition of positivity to the point it was sickening;

He stopped at each table-giving the cameraman a chance to focus on each separate hat and allowing the students their moment to shine.

He looked over each derby closely from multiple angles, giving specific praise over little details that he thought stood out, and at times, constructive criticism over some minor construction flaws, followed by encouragement before moving on to the next entry.

He was so nice, she felt nauseous.

Though, that could’ve also been a side effect from her previous running around.

She’d honestly thought he’d have at least some negative feedback over Rose and Nathaniel’s entry.

Not that Marinette was hoping for it; Rose and Nathaniel were among the few students at Françoise Dupont who weren’t complete trou du culs.

True, neither of them had ever tried to be friends with her, but they’d also never joined in with everybody laughing at her expense, either.

But that didn’t excuse the monstrosity sitting on the table in front of them.

If she had to take a guess, she would say that Rose dragged Nathaniel into the contest with her; probably babbled on about all her unicorn and kitten filled fantasies for him to sketch out, then used a hot glue gun to try and make it a reality.

A hot fuchsia bowler with rainbow yarn coming out of the back as… a mane?…a tail?… something.

There was what looked like a cardboard horn that had been assaulted with glitter, and electric cobalt blue cat ears cut from craft-store faux fur that were uneven in size.

Rather than a ribbon around the base of the rounded crown, there was a collage-like border made from what was probably every flower sticker Rose owned.

At least Nathaniel had the decency to be embarrassed, as evidenced by him pulling the drawstrings of his hoodie tight in an attempt to either hide himself from view, or self-asphyxiate.

Personally, Marinette would’ve gone with the latter.

Even Adrien averted his eyes- the glitter shedding uni-kitty derby too bright to look at directly.

Rose was naturally, blissfully unaware.

But M. Agreste didn’t so much as flinch!

He complimented their boldness and stated his admiration for their creativity. He gently pointed out some issues- such as the the hot-glue seam slowly coming apart, and suggested that a buckram fabric molded with starch would hold its shape better than cardboard and be easier to affix to the crown of the hat without weighing it down.

He gave them tips on cutting faux fur and how to trace a pattern to make the ears come out more even.

He even stated that he was intrigued by the floral collage, but was concerned that paper stickers would eventually lose their adhesion and fall off, before suggesting using fabric dye and multiple flower shaped rubber stamps on plain ribbon as an alternative to achieve the same effect.

He thanked them both and said he hoped to see them in future contests so he could witness their progress.

Marinette frowned and swallowed back the acid burning at the back of her throat.

She hated to admit it, but she was envious.

There was no way her mom would’ve let her enter, and even if she snuck out to compete anyway, Chloe would’ve found a way to ruin her work or used her connection with Adrien to get her kicked out.

She knew that, so sulking about it was pointless.

But still, how awesome would it have been to receive honest, non-judgey feedback from someone with so much experience in the fashion industry?

A chance to have her designs taken seriously and to discuss how she could improve with someone who actually knew what they were doing without being looked down on?

She didn’t care about winning some lame school contest. But some one-on-one time with a professional in the world of design?

She wanted that.

Badly.

Marinette hated how stupid she felt for resenting Rose Lavillant just because she was enjoying an opportunity that she herself wanted but had been unable to take.

It was so dumb to feel jealous over Rose when it wasn’t even her fault.

It was Chloe’s fault!

Chloe was the reason Marinette wasn’t allowed to stand out, why she didn’t have any friends, why now even her own mother was preventing her from following her dreams!

Stubbornly using her sleeve to wipe away moisture that had begun to form at the corners of her eyes, Marinette focused on her laptop screen.

The moment she’d been waiting for was nearly here…

Gabriel and Adrien Agreste approached Chloe’s table and stopped abruptly as the blonde girl rushed over to clutch onto the teen boy’s arm with her high-pitched squeal, bouncing on her heels in giddiness and not even bothering to acknowledge M. Agreste until the older man awkwardly cleared his throat and adjusted his light blue-violet ascot before offering his greetings.

Under normal circumstances, the smug look on that witch’s face as she gushed to M. Agreste about how she could not wait to see “Adrikins” (Ugh, was that his pet name? Gross…) wearing her hat at the next fashion show, would’ve been enough to make Marinette lose her lunch.

Today, however, knowing what was to come, left her avoir la banane.

M. Agreste chuckled and said he liked her enthusiasm, but he would need to see her entry first.

Chloe rolled her eyes playfully, saying something quaint about “getting formalities over with”, before snapping her fingers to order Sabrina to attention.

The bespectacled girl stepped forward dutifully, hat box in arms, and carefully removed the lid-

Marinette bit her lower lip, and Chloe announced to the room she was “now presenting the winning design!” as Sabrina lifted the derby hat out of the box for M. Agreste to see.

The camera zoomed in on the hat:

It was a classic derby bowler shaped in pale, dusty rose colored wool felt with a thin chiffon trim along the outer edge of the brim in a slightly darker shade. The the dark blues and greens of the patterned ribbon around the base was reminiscent of the scales of a butterfly’s wing, and had an iridescent sheen.

The focal point of course, was the glazed black, scalloped medallion in the center of the side bow, embossed with a white, flourished “G”.

The camera zoomed back out to capture both Chloe’s self-satisfied smirk and Gabriel Agreste’s reaction;

Blessed be for HD, otherwise Marinette would’ve missed the slight crease between M. Agreste’s brows as his smile began to falter.

There was a moment of hesitation, another awkward clearing of his throat, and a quick darting of his eyes indicating that he would rather the film crew direct their attention elsewhere….

Clara Contard would have none of that, so M. Agreste tried to gracefully step forward and angle his back towards the camera, a valiant effort to shield Mlle. Bourgeois from view that was in vain.

You had to admire his efforts; he attempted to handle the situation as delicately as possible-

“Young lady, I believe you may have misunderstood… The aim was not to submit your favorite hat that you would like to see again, but to come up with your own, original design for Adrien to model. I apologize if that was not made clear-“

Oh, the shift on Chloe’s face from cool confidence to furious indignation would’ve given a lesser man whiplash, but to M. Agreste’s credit, he only slightly stepped back in surprise at the blonde’s foot-stamping outburst.

“How DARE you?! This hat is MY original design! Are you calling me a liar???”

M. Agreste didn’t get angry, didn’t raise his voice… Merely pursed his lips into a tight line before inhaling a deep breath and letting it out gently-

“I’m sorry to say but, while it is an older design, it is in fact, one of my own.”

Lifting the derby and turning it upside-down revealed the “GABRIEL” label, expertly sewn unto the creamy white silk lining inside.

“This model hit store shelves well over a year ago, as part of my late spring collection.”

The camera was only able to zoom in on Chloe’s red face and quivering lip for about 3 seconds before she was once again blocked by M. Agreste’s torso and only the muffled sound of “Mme. Contard, please show some decorum.” was heard before they cut to commercial.

Chloe Bourgeois, publicly humiliated on live TV.

What a beautiful day~

Was there an option to give this livestream 5 stars? Because Clara deserved the highest ratings!

Marinette was kind of sorry that she’d had to sacrifice her own hat- even if it wasn’t her style anymore, even if it had been bought on clearance from a discount boutique that specialized in what was no longer in season.

She had saved up all of her allowance just for a chance to own anything from the “GABRIEL” brand, and had felt a small sense of pride in being able to buy it for herself.

But sentimentality was for the weak, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng was no longer that pathetic little girl that wore her heart on her sleeve like some air-head.

At first she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with Chloe’s counterfeit derby, (black and grey pinstripes with a square metal studded band… based on the panoramic view at the start of the livestream, Théo Barbot had been the unwitting victim this time,) but now she decided she was going to keep it.

Maybe she’d mount it on her wall as a trophy to remind her that she was no longer a vulnerable little pear for Chloe to squash beneath her heels.

(The pear thing is another French idiom. No, I’m not making this up!)

Relishing the spoils of victory would have to wait, though.

Marinette closed her laptop and stretched, wincing slightly. There was no point in watching the rest of the contest.

All she cared about now was taking a hot shower, some pain killers, and lying down with a heating pad to see if it would help with her cramp.

…That shower was cut short in order to rush back to her room to interrogate a certain red and black floating insect.

“Ce que l'enfer est-ce?!”

Above her navel was a black, spindly mark the size of a kumquat. It was tender to the touch and it certainly had NOT been there this morning!

As always, the kwami said nothing, not that it could with that, whatever-it-was, over its mouth… if what it had was considered a mouth.

Instead, those round, blue eyes widened-for a moment they even looked frightened-before glancing nervously over at the loft and Marinette’s bed.

The tablet from The Supreme was still tucked under her mattress.

She didn’t remember reading anything about black splotches suddenly appearing on her body, but the tablet was the only lead she had.

Hitting the power button and waiting through the identification scan, Marinette ignored the red screen and the intimidating symbol glaring at her- she was more interested in the icon at the bottom corner.

It was flashing again.

There was a new message.

Marinette felt a shiver run down her spine; she hadn’t received any new messages since the first 1 on the day she received her earrings.

She should be relieved The Supreme is contacting her again, right?

She was ‘the chosen one’ after all, so whatever The Supreme had to say must be important.

It might even help her.

The Supreme would take care of her.

There was no need to feel afraid.

….Right?

Her hand was definitely not shaking as she tapped the message icon to open to full screen:

“Mlle Marinette Dupain-Cheng,

At this time you might be aware of certain afflictions to your body.

Unfortunately, this is the result of prolonged Miraculous use, and will continue to spread.

It should please you to know that a remedy does exist. However, the means to alleviate your condition are not without stipulations;

Another Miraculous has been stolen.

If you are able to recover it, your malaise shall be remedied with haste.

Be warned- failure to do so will only allow the aliment to spread to the point of being fatal, regardless of further use of the Miraculous.

Please be advised; Only one can be spared.”

At the age of 13 going on 14, Marinette had a plethora of profanities at her disposal, yet none of them felt sufficient for this level of ABSOLUTE B.S.!

What kind of sick joke was this?!

After skimming through a detailed description of the Butterfly Brooch and the powers it granted its holder, she came to the conclusion that the only joke here was her.

She threw the tablet down in anger, the loud clatter sending the kwami flying away to hide in the waste bin under her desk.

Of course it had all been too good to be true!

She wasn’t lucky, she was cursed!

‘Only one can be spared.’

What was that supposed to mean? Did The Supreme think she would feel pity for the Butterfly thief and beg to save them too?

Fat chance.

You know what? Fine! Et merde!

Elle était prête à couper la poire en deux.

Her eyes narrowed with renewed resolve.

If playing the role of ‘Miraculous Repo man’ was what it took to to save her skin and be able to dish out long overdue karma, then that’s what she’d do.

They’ll see who’s laughing then….

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