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sinnabee · 2 years
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as often seems to be the case @gigiree and i have gotten into the same thing around the same time and been having some fun ideas :D oooh i also had fun trying out a different brush than my pencil texture one for this!
below the cut is two little blurbs we wrote (first one gigi, second one sinna) about an idea we had!! idk if it’ll ever be more than some cute little scenes but we wanted to share! there is definitely a doc of planning and shit in my folders but again we’ll see if anything ever really gets written
POV: You are just a dude. Just a regular little fella (gender neutral) who works from home, makes lots of zoom calls, and lives in a cozy little house on the outskirts of a small town. Recently you are sure that there is SOMETHING (some-things??? Mothman????) living in the woods off your back porch, and honestly you’re about ready to throw hands with it if it knocks over your FUCKING TRASH CANS AGAIN.
Excerpt by @gigiree
You squint up at the glaring red eyes cutting through the inky darkness between the trees, a good five feet or more above your very human head.
You blink once, rub your eyes and pinch your cheek. The red lights are still there, narrowed in what you would have called amusement if there’d been an actual face to put them into context.
You point a finger up at them, threateningly.
“Fuck this. Fuck you. I don’t have the energy tonight for this cryptid fuckery. Are you the one who knocked down my trash cans and didn’t put them back?”
There’s a distinct fuzzy sound then, like someone tuning into bad radio frequency. The hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end, and like you always do when you get scared, you rely on your pride. The little shards of pride you have left, rearranged to poke and prod your spine into formation until you actually resemble some sort of intelligent vertebrate.
You straighten your spine. And straighten your middle finger in The Thing’s general direction.
“Good night, Big Devil Mothfoot .” You say, in a mad bout of daring. Worst case, this thing tears you to shreds and you don’t have to show up to Zoom work tomorrow. Sounds like a sweet deal.
But wonder of shitty wonders, a long, spidery appendage slides past the tree cover, silvery bells catching the faint moonlight. And the red eyes are accompanied by a giant, clawed hand giving the one-finger salute too.
Seventh wonder of the world, this ain’t, but it’s nuts enough to get a witch’s cackle bursting past the knot of fear in your throat.
Excerpt by @sinnabee
You swallow down your laughter and continue to stare up at the lights swaying menacingly above your head. They're just...hanging out, you guess. The weird spider-y arm slunk it's way back into the shadows. The longer you stare at it the more you feel like your eyes were adjusting, and you could see the faint outline of...something there in the tree. Like, lots of long skinny appendages sticking out every which way in order to keep it suspended up there. It was becoming kind of ridiculous, the longer you looked at it.
"Listen," you say, voice coming back stronger now with the thought that whatever this thing was was desperately trying to hold itself in place in order to scare you, "I don't care if you dig through the trash cans. You can kick the shit out of them if you want.
As you watched, the lights narrowed even further and the whatever the hell was holding them rotated. Alright, that one creeped you out.
"Y-Yeah. Just - just put them back in the morning, and don't put any holes in the bottom. As long as the trash guys will still take them, I don't care."
You stare at the lights for a few more tense seconds. You blink, but by the time you’ve opened your eyes, they're gone.
You frown and glare harder at the trees, as though squinting angrily would make them come back.
"Fuckin rude. Whatever, Big Devil Mothfoot. Just put my cans back next time!" You shout the last words into the darkness and turn around to head back across the yard and into the comforting light of your home. There's a static-y laugh that echoes way too close behind you and causes you to sprint the last few steps.
You slam the screen door shut, but make sure to flip the back porch off for good measure.
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casadefreewill · 2 years
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Daily Fics
(Fics I read throughout the day yesterday and enjoyed)
Numbered by gigiree ( @gigiree ), KryallaOrchid ( @kryallaorchid ), and PrincessofHarte ( @princessofharte )
On May 10th, 2016, an anonymous user asked the Tumblr account imagine-miraculousladybug the following question: "imagine the miraculous users having their days numbered according to the animal/insect their miraculous represents. for example, marinette is expected to die 2-3 years after gaining her miraculous (i'M SORRY [or am i?])"
Mod Moon posted the ask, letting it roam free in the fandom wilds. This is what happened.
Hhhnnnngfsjjsj k, I put off reading this one for a LONG time (and I mean a L O N G time) because I’m scared of angst without a happy ending ;v;. And yeah, this is an angst fest but it’s also really well written. Basically a story about death, and grief, and choosing to make the most of the time you have left.
★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆
Nullius In Verba by Keyseeker ( @flightfoot )
“Who are you? Where am I? Why can’t I remember-”
A sharp pain cut through her brain. She cradled her head, groaning. “You are here, you are an akuma, and you will fight when I call upon you. That is all you need to know,” the voice growled.
She grit her teeth. She hated this guy already.
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Permanently Akumatized AU. Instead of being freed after an akuma battle, the akumas are transported to a warehouse to await Hawkmoth's call again. They have amnesia, not remembering who they were, or even that they WERE someone else before, often. They also can't leave the warehouse without the akuma in their heads, without Hawkmoth's compulsions forcing them back inside, or resist battling the heroes for long before, again, the compulsions force them into it.
Unfortunately for Hawkmoth, Lady Wifi isn't going to meekly accept orders.
Alya-centric story, basically what it says on the tin. Very cool and interesting idea (inspired by disconnected). I’ve seen a few takes on “permanently akumatized” AUs that have been really fun but I really like where this one is taking things with the amnesia and the warehouse, as well as with the Akuma’s families and Paris media response.
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zoe-oneesama · 5 years
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a problem with little in the way of resolution
A/n: HELP @zoe-oneesama IVE BEEN SUCKED INTO the Scarlet Lady au and here’s a small thing I wanted to give to you. Thank you for this wonderful idea —
Plagg gives a long, weary sigh, tucked away in the folds of Adrien’s shirt.
Adrien can’t help but echo the same sentiment, his steps equal parts careful and tired as he follows Plagg’s instructions.
“Why do I always have to be the responsible one?” Plagg whines, his tiny claws digging ineffectually into Adrien’s side.
“Really? You’re the responsible one? I can only imagine what Scarlet Lady’s kwami is like.”
“No. No. That’s exactly the problem! Her kwami is usually the one that deals with stuff like this. Tikki always was the responsible one.”
Adrien stops for a bit to glance at the petulant little god in his shirt. A sense of mourning horror crawls down his spine as he thinks of the implications.
“Is Scarlet Lady really that much of a…a…”
“Self-centered egomaniac?” Plagg offers.
“No…umm…”
“A deep, dark black hole that sucks up whatever attention is in the room?”
“No but that’s not wro-“
“An absolute nightmare of a jacka-“
“NO! I mean yes to all of those, but is she really so irresponsible?”
Plagg blinks up at Adrien, long and slow. Adrien squirms a bit, and looks away in embarrassment.
“Look, kid. I’m glad you’re trying to look for the best in people, but Scarlet Lady is testing the limits and you’re beginning to look like an idiot the longer you try with her.”
“I know…I get it…I’m just so tired Plagg. I can’t imagine having to take on more of this work if she doesn’t step up.”
“I know…but if you gave her that book, what do you think she’d do with it?”
Adrien pauses, his face paling in horror. “Probably sell it to buy a diamond encrusted yo-yo.” He says, patting his bag just to make sure the book is still there. “You’re right. We have to get this to that mysterious master you keep talking about.” ——
She looks at Pollen for all of one second before she screams and ducks behind the trash dump.
“HOLY SHIT! ITS A BUG MOUSE.”
“Hello, My Queen.”
“THE BUG MOUSE TALKS.” Marinette yells from behind the dumpster, crouching closer to the wall to avoid a puddle of mystery liquid pooling near her foot.
“I’m a kwami, your Majesty and I am at your service.” Pollen continues, bemusedly watching her new wielder from over the edge of the bin.
Marinette seems to take a moment, before standing up a little to peer up at the floating, glowing being.
“What…what do you want with me?”
“To give you power to accomplish your desires, My Queen.”
“But I’m not a…a queen.”
Pollen merely smiles beatifically, and that seems to be enough to coax Marinette from her hiding spot. She watches as the girl picks up the discarded hair comb.
“A Kwami…huh…are you lost?” Marinette asks kindly, getting over her initial fears quickly now that Pollen has kept a polite distance.
“I’m yours.”
Marinette doesn’t have quite enough time to understand the implications before the sounds of an Akuma attack ring in the distance.
Somehow, something in her bones calls to her. It’s the same something that makes her run to help her classmates when there’s not much she can do every time an Akuma attacks. It’s the same something that causes her to grab the nearest blunt object and use that to fend off anything from hypnotized people to pigeons.
Its the same something that makes her slip the haircomb on and the something pushes against her lips and spills out as-
“Pollen, Buzz on!” ———
She is the reprieve that Chat Noir has so long wished for. She is the yellow of sunshine and the gilded sweetness of honey, encouragements and cleverness wrapped up in one daring heroine.
Marigold is the answer to his exhaustion and he’s so blessed to have her in his life. (Just as blessed as when sweetheart Marinette brings him coffee and pastries.)
He finds that patrols have become less frustrating, more productive when Marigold buzzes by his side. They’re nearly two halves of a whole.
She fills in his blind spots that had long been left empty by Scarlet Lady. He can breathe easier when he knows there’s two stingers watching his back, and an equally sharp mind helping him come up with plans.
She’s been a blessing…but there’s trouble in paradise when she gathers up all her latent courage and tells him that she loves him.
She’s looking at him now with wide (pretty) blue eyes and small teeth biting her (pretty) lip.
And god, he would totally reciprocate if he hadn’t already been in love with Marinette.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…Marigold…you’re great. Wonderful and such an amazing partner…but I love someone else.”
She turns her head away too slow. He catches the tears welling up in her eyes, but by the time he gets close she’s plastered on the biggest, most awkward smile ever.
“It’s okay…I totally understand. I just wanted to let you know. No regrets right? I’m glad I got to tell you. You’re amazing too. Thank you…for being so kind, Chat.” She rattles, so afraid to give him a moment more.
And he wants to say more, but then she says she has to go before she destransforms.
His sharp ears hadn’t heard any beeping, but he won’t take away her reprieve. He cares about her too much to be cruel. —-
“…Marinette…I’m flattered, honestly, that you would trust me with something like this…but wouldn’t you prefer to talk to Alya?” Adrien squirms, uncomfortable and flustered on this bench. His shoulder is pressed right up against hers as they both partake in Andre’s love ice cream.
He watches her topmost scoop, lime green, melt down the side of her cone. She doesn’t seem to mind it, instead fixing her gaze on the shifting sunset colors in La Seine.
“Alya…I’ll tell her soon. I just thought…I wanted an objective point of view on this whole thing. And you seemed the best person to ask.”
“I see.”
“I’m sorry if this is making you…ah uncomfortable.”
“No!” Adrien turns to her, placing his free hand on her shoulder to let her know that she shouldn’t feel bad at all. “Don’t apologize. It’s totally fine.”
He’s…She’s one of his best friends…she’s the girl he likes…he’s glad to be her confidant. Even if it means talking to her about the guy she likes who isn’t him.
She’s moved her gaze to his face, (pretty) blue eyes wide and earnest as her (gorgeous) smile becomes gentle.
“Thank you…for being so kind, Adrien.” She tells him.
He feels the heat rush from her skin and up through his arm. It crawls up his spine pleasantly as it curls under his cheeks and he pulls away and scratches the back of his head.
“It’s uh…nothing. You’re my friend. Of course I’d be glad to listen to you.” He prattles on. “And I think any guy would be an idiot not to fall for you. So this guy…he’s missing out…but I can’t entirely place the blame on him. People like who they like, and sometimes it’s a matter of just being the wrong time.”
Marinette giggles, a bit haltingly, but it’s joyous nonetheless. “I think that’s partly what Alya would say.”
“But?” Adrien prods, sensing more words on the tip of her tongue.
“He likes someone else. You’re right. It’s not that I’m not enough. And i couldn’t change anything about myself. It’s just a matter of wrong person and wrong time.” She shrugs.
Her smile quirks up into something lovely. (She’s always lovely, but with golden hour cresting in her dark hair, she’s almost too much for him. She’s almost too much as she talks about a boy who seems too much to be real.)
The quiet stretches between them, dripping like her ice cream down into the concrete.
“Are you not gonna eat your uh…cone?” Adrien asks worriedly as the top scoop slides precariously to the side.
“Oh…” Marinette notices, and quickly licks a bit off the side. She flashes a grateful grin at him, and he laughs a bit as he unthinkingly grabs a tissue and wipes away some green ice cream still on the corner of her mouth.
He freezes. Marinette doesn’t seem to notice, instead thanking him sheepishly.
“Uh heh…no problem.” He tells her, and tries to hide his flushed face in the light of the orange sun.
But there is a problem. He’s so in love with Marinette and she’s pining for a guy so perfect, he can’t even begin to measure up in his own mind. It’s a case of wrong time…and it will always be the wrong time for him to woo Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Except…maybe…Chat Noir…maybe he might have a better chance. Adrien decides that his ice cream tastes sweeter at that possibility.
Edit: Submitted by gigiree
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podfic-chicklet · 5 years
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“Her sacrifice in black little dots, marking a path that will no longer exist once she fades away. Her decision to save the city she loved, balanced by her life cut short.”
-> A hauntingly beautiful fanfiction from the beginning of the fandom that no fan should miss out on!
36:46 minutes
Reader: Podfic-Chicklet
Beta: @rhythmelia (a wonderfully spontaneous human being with an eye… ehm… ear for details…)
Authors: @gigiree  @kryallaorchid , and @princessofharte 
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princessofharte · 6 years
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This is certainly a blast from the past.
@kryallaorchid @gigiree I’m adding each chapter once every day. I think the new fans deserve some angst since season 2′s out now.
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vietnyamese · 6 years
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You're not useless. You're here and it's hard, oh gosh I know it's hard. And sometimes it feels like you are useless, but know this. it's not true. You're you and I'm glad of it. And I'm sorry if this is intrusive, but thank you for existing.
hey this is like 4 years late? i don’t remember. i think i was 11 when i got this? (young time to start this site, i know) ive wanted to thank you for a while but for a while i never deleted this message or responded because when i was moving up into middle school i was feeling really, really stressed out, and i was in that weird transition period when i didn’t really have any friends anymore. i looked at this ask a few times to make myself feel better back then. i know we’re strangers but you helped me all that time ago and just, thank you for that. the kindness of a stranger can go along way.
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gigiree replied to your post “so you’re telling me this hoe got a baby daddy AND TWO SIDE PIECES...”
I’m CACKLING. This is like Theo having all kinds of jobs all over again
AND if I remember right, she’s getting off the bus in one sequence too - literally RIGHT AFTER SHE ALMOST GETS HIT WITH SAID BUS asdfhjkl
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kryallaorchid · 6 years
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this is a really silly question to ask lol but i was wondering, do you remember the short story that was written with the idea that the miraculous wielders only lived as long as their animals life span? so chat noir outlives 6 different ladybugs or something. do you remember who wrote that or what it was called? i've been searching for it but cant find it anywhere.
I have absolutely no idea what fic you’re talking about.
At all.
Isn’t that right, @gigiree ?
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miraculousturtle · 7 years
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30:) because I'm a basic bitch. Chlonette or Love square
from this list 
30.  Too quick, mumbled into your scarf; chlonette
Thick winter air blankets them with frosty chills and quick sunsets. They cuddle close to each other, hand in hand, as rays fade into deep indigo, stars only powered by electricity remain.  
Chloe has grown taller over the years, more slender, more sleek. But her heart has softened too, kinder than before as she walks Marinette home with their fingers interlinked. 
Theirs is a journey that began as blistering as dawn’s fire to cooling as night’s moonbeams. They began as opposition, but like a solar eclipse, they crossed paths and never stopped looking back.
It took just a little understanding. 
(Okay, a lot of understanding.)
Marinette’s house comes into view as they slow down, their footsteps soft echoes by her back door. 
“Well, as you can see, I’ve been a good girlfriend and walked you home,” Chloe declares with pride. 
She stands straighter, waiting for her expected praise. 
Marinette rolls her eyes. “Chlo, I walk you home nine times out of ten.” 
She huffs, pouting. “It’s not a contest, love.” 
Marinette shakes her head but throws her arms around her girlfriend with affection. Chloe’s laughter rings in her ears as her perfume lulls her into a moment of familiarity. It’s mundane, it’s perfect, it’s–
“–I love you,” Marinette mumbles into her scarf.
She says it so easily, as if it is breathing, but in some regards, it is. Loving Chloe comes as naturally as breathing, as accepting that sun rises and sets, that her days are defined by moments Chloe’s presence and absence. 
Marinette stills when realization catches up with meaning, her face turning bright red. She lets go awkwardly, her arms hanging at her side. 
Chloe doesn’t seem to have heard her. “Marinette?” 
She gulps, Chloe’s icy eyes freezing her where she stands. Her heart hammers in her chest, warm and loud against her ribs.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” she shouts.
She jumps up to her tiptoes and presses a quick kiss to Chloe’s mouth, not even leaving time for her to kiss her back. Just a quick kiss caught on words of concern before she swiftly turns away and slams the door. 
Marinette leans against the door and slides down, forehead to her knees as she crouches in her family’s foyer. One breath, then two. 
Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she sees that she has one new message from Chloe. 
I love you too 
Marinette is positive that she’s smiling brighter than the sun, her heart melting as she scrambles to open the door once again to chase after the girl who captured her heart.
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sinnabee · 30 days
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Last Line Challenge
Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like).
aaa thanks for the tag @crabsnpersimmons !!! i have NO idea what the last thing i wrote was, so instead heres the last line of something i plan to add to soon! (well, last 2 lines. they go together)
Soundwave ignored the mischievous pings from Laserbeak, and the curious prodding from Ravage's end of the bond that followed soon after. He had a match to win, after all.
and the last thing i was doodling on was this! (trying to, once again, get better at drawing transformers...)
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ive seen these games for writing, but not for drawing before, and not for both! it's cute!!! thanks again crabs!
no pressure tags ^^
@shirajellyfish @crazedauthor @merrydearest @storytellingbadger @ranchdiip @moonliched @gigiree @shandzii @wifiwulf04 @slamkattari-blog @scarredkitty @thedemonscrawler @suokumi @coolesth @cloudyvoid
+ anyone else i didn't tag in this round! ignore this if ur not feeling up to it, i only have the energy for tag games like, half the time ^^
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megamegaturtle · 7 years
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15!:) broppy
15. Loud, so everyone can hear
love makes people stupid, he thinks. branch thinks this exactly as he races across the troll tree, unable to stop moving forward to the welcoming party because it’s been-- 
it’s been a long summer. 
love makes people stupid in the way that when one troll falls for another, their hearts trip over themselves, caution is thrown to the wind and-- 
it’s been a long summer without annoying pink and bright colors and songs and someone banging on his door at five in the morning to catch the sunrise.
(well, like, other trolls have tried, but no one has succeeded in the least.) 
sure, he has his colors back, but even he can’t deny that he’s bluer today than yesterday, more bright, saturated with light instead of the gray because--because-- 
poppy is home.
he pushes past other trolls, not caring if he’s rude, regretting every second that he turned her down because he should have gone with her to visit the other villages, he should have, he should have, he should-- 
he hears her before he sees her, her laughter magic, her smile deeply embedded in her voice. 
“hi everyone! i’m home!”
and maybe it’s because he’s stupid and love can do that to you, but branch swears when he makes his way in front of the crowd and he sees her for the first time in months standing on stage, looking adorable and real and here, he can’t contain himself. 
and sure, he has only told her once, in a way that was half in love, half not, but he told her he loved her once when they were about to die, but there is nothing akin to death right now when the bursts of sunshine filter through the leaves of the troll tree and the world is perfect and-- 
love makes you stupid, branch knows. he knows it exactly when he’s yelling at the top of his lungs, cutting over the crowd. 
“poppy, i love you!” 
everyone stops cheering and the world rushes back to him in a single second and branch wishes he had enough time to collect his brain, but she’s found him. she’s looking at him, pink eyes wide. 
the moment feels longer than summer as she doesn’t say anything, the crowd waiting with bated breath, and branch just wishes that bergans still ate trolls to escape this situation. 
but it’s a quiet voice this time, that catches his attention. a mumble really, until it’s starts getting louder and louder and before he knows, poppy throws herself stage, a smile adorning her face. 
“i love you too,” she says, arms spread out like wings and
branch catches her effortlessly, heart so full, head so stupid, but everything is kinda perfect. 
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zoe-oneesama · 5 years
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Surreptitious
A/n: OMGG the more I see of your au, the more I love it. I know you have the sort of reverse love square set up, so I tried to follow that a bit, but ahhh I’m not sure if I got the right flavor of it at all. Regardless, this is supposed to be a continuation of the previous piece.
He finds himself pacing back and forth across the rooftop, his tail lashing at his legs as his indecision eats away at his composure.
He argues with himself as he shoots occasional glances at the delicately lit-up terrace across from his perch.
“I’m not stalking her. I’m just going there for some peace of mind. It smells nice because of the bakery. It’s a private place to take a nap. There’s a comfy lawn chair. She’s probably asleep by now anyway. It’ll only be for a few moments.”
He lists out all these reasons, and while it seems he’s grasping for straws, his legs seem to have decided for him because not thirty seconds later, he’s made the leap across the street. He lands on top of the Dupain-Cheng bakery with hardly a sound, his claws flexing as he braces his hands against the railing.
He’s done it. He’s come to her house like some obsessed creepy vampire or something. But the orange lawn chair looks so inviting and the roses seem to unfurl their petals in welcome.
His house was too quiet for some good rest. The muted sounds of the city below will serve as the best sort of lullaby for tonight.
He has many reasons for wanting to be here, but the fact that this chair smells like her and that he curls up closer to it when he realizes this tells him that none of those reasons come close to the real one.
She is a reprieve and the sweetness of a dream, and the thought of her helps him sleep at night.
Let sleeping kittens lie, Plagg thinks from within. —- She’s stayed awake until the moon had reached its zenith, bright and round and calling to the anxiety welling up in her chest.
She’s been working on hat designs and her floor is littered with discarded ideas. She wants to cry, but Pollen suggests going outside to smell the blooming roses and the fresh dew that crests them.
So she does, and she tucks her kwami in the neck of her soft pajamas to keep her warm.
She opens the trapdoor with a weary sigh, only for it to turn into a little yelp when she catches sight of Chat Noir curled up ever so sweetly on her lawn chair.
Pollen seems to be amused about the whole affair and merely suggest that he looks a bit cold. It’s enough to get Marinette quietly rushing back down into her room, wherein she gathers up a pink striped blanket. She hoists it up with her onto the terrace, and her steps are skillfully silent as she approaches him.
He’s so pretty, she thinks, crested under moonlight. So pretty and never to be hers. She remembers the ache of his rejection. But he’s still a good friend and he deserves nothing but the best when it comes to friendship.
He doesn’t stir, even as she drapes the blanket over him.
Pollen thinks it’s all a bit heartbreaking when Marinette bites her lip, and indulges herself by brushing back a few strands of hair falling over his eyes.
“Good night Chat. Sleep well.” ——
He wakes when the moon has sunk low on the horizon, hidden behind a few distant buildings. The stars wheel across the sky, marking his time as passed.
He blinks away the dew drops that had condensed on his eyelids. He yawns a bit, stretching out his the stiffness in his shoulders only to notice the blanket sliding off of him while he does it.
His horror at having found that he has overslept mingles bitterly with the fondness he feels for Marinette. This blanket keeps her scent woven well into its folds, and he’s so incandescently happy to have been cared for (again) by her.
Then he feels the sting of mortification.
“God. I’m such a creep.” He tells himself, all the while folding the blanket properly. He’s not sure how he’s going to repay her for this one. As it is, he owes her so much for the coffee and the pastries she brings him on the daily.
But she will never ask for repayment. Her kindness is as natural as the unfurling of those roses she keeps on this terrace.
He pats down the blanket, leaving it neatly on the chair. He indulges the feelings welling up in him, when he decides to cut off one of the red roses and lay it down on top of the blanket.
“…one day…i promise I’ll get you a whole bouquet.” He whispers to no one.
It’s a bit sad. ——
“You look surprisingly refreshed today, Adrien.” Marinette tells him. Her smile seems relieved, but still she places the coffee and pastries on his desk and invites him to share.
He can only find it in himself to nod at her, before hiding his awkward cough into the lip of his coffee cup.
“Did you find a good way to get some rest?”
“Y-yeah. Sort of.” He chokes, taking a sudden bite off the chocolate croissant.
She giggles at his zealousness, and he returns his smile.
She’s as oblivious as ever when she takes a napkin and wipes away the chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth.
“There. Can’t have that pretty, refreshed face of yours looking messy.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his coughs this time. Nino takes pity on him, and pulls Marinette into conversation to give him a break. —-
The next time she finds him asleep on her terrace, she decides to treat him a little more.
She places a plate of pastries on the table near his sleeping form, covers them up so they don’t get damp In the nightly weather. She also leaves a glass of milk, and covers that up too with a lid.
She tucks him under the same blanket, and still he doesn’t stir. She can’t blame him. Today’s Akuma had been challenging…more so because Scarlet Lady had thought it would ruin her reputation if got her hair wet trying to chase said Akuma…and doubly because Chat Noir seemed to be having a hard time touching her…touching Marigold.
It was as if her confession had pried open the space between them. As if her back was no longer completely covered, because Chat Noir was so distracted by what she’d told him.
Their usual banter had taken on a fragile sort of quality. Too careful and distant. As if he was scared going over a single line might give her the wrong idea.
She’s a little miffed. She’s not stupid. She understands rejection and how to deal with it. She’d been determined to put her feelings away, into a locked little corner of her mind that will always be fond of Chat.
She thought she’d been doing so well and yet…
She doesn’t mean to sit and watch him. He’s so unguarded like this. The planes of his face soften in his sleep, his mouth turns gentle. He’s no longer scowling and the bags under his eyes disappear for a bit.
He looks so young. Too young to bear this burden all on his own. Yet all she can do now is watch…and wait for him to return to their previous dynamic all on his own.
“Please don’t give up on us, Kitty. We’re a team. I need you…” She tells him quietly, pulling up the blanket to his chin once more.
She heads back down into her room with Pollen nuzzling her in sympathy. —-
She wakes to find the blanket folded again, and a rose left on top again.
The cookies have all been eaten and the glass of milk is half full. She’s glad.
There’s a note too.
“Thanks for the snacks! Next time, let’s eat breakfast together!” -C.N
She thinks her heart might beat out of her chest at the sight of it. But there’s a wry twist to her mouth, because it may just be a pleasantry after all.
She’s tired and she’s already tried. There isn’t much use in asking for more. She’s glad she can keep him in her life in some capacity.
Still she presses this rose in between the pages of her sketch book.
Edit: Submitted by @gigiree, so thank them for this SHOT TO THE HEART
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thelastpilot · 7 years
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IM SO SORRY! ARE YOU OKAY?! blink twice if Ana is holding you hostage!?
the only thing Ana is holding is my heart because she wont stop sending me nice ass messages and I’m in love with her!?!??!!!
this just in @miraculousturtle is a perfect human being
*distant murmuring*
What? Everyone already knows? oh
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suzie-guru · 6 years
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Happy Birthday to you!!! 🎉🎉
Aw, thank you so much, sweetheart! 
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princessofharte · 6 years
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Numbered, Chapter 2
I forgot that links don’t appear in any tag on Tumblr. Anyhow, here’s chapter 2, written by @kryallaorchid
Go read it here!
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@miraculousturtle and @gigiree are both amazing people and amazing writers and their stuff needs more recognition
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