The way I want Adrien to develop a crush on Marinette in canon, or at least realise that he has a mega crush on Marinette, is for him to find out about the future she had planned for the two of them.
Let’s say Marinette has a special sketchbook. This sketchbook is filled with drawings of their future house, of Adrien as an adult in multiple occupational settings, of Marinette and Adrien’s wedding, and most importantly, their future children.
Let’s say Marinette had accidentally brought this sketchbook to school instead of her regular one. Let’s say she accidentally dropped this sketchbook while rushing out of school to help go meet Mme. Chamack to go babysit Manon.
Let’s say Adrien was nearby and picked up the sketchbook.
He wasn’t able to call out to her before she ran off, so he kept it, deciding to give it back to her tomorrow. He gets into his car and is driven home.
Of course, though, he’s a cat, curious through and through. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, right? Besides, Marinette’s such an excellent designer, maybe he could put in a good word to his father.
He didn’t expect to see the wedding dress on the first page, a self-portrait of her in an intricate bun and gorgeous white lace. It’s mesmerizing. It makes him excited, already imagining her at her wedding, her giddy smile as she stands before her future groom.
He turns the page. His cheeks burn.
The future groom is apparently him.
There he is, in a sunny, shiny beige suit and a wide, toothy grin. His hair is messy and his tie’s a bit loose, and it surprises him how specific she was in those details. That she wasn’t expecting him to be perfect. That she didn’t want him to be perfect.
His heart thuds loudly in his chest, and he turns the page.
It’s him in a lab coat, standing beside some complex piece of machinery that Marinette had definitely searched references to. Beside him is the single word “Physicist.”
It’s him in a simple suit, wearing a tacky tie, standing in front of a chalk board and talking to a group. Beside this drawing, the word “Professor” is written.
Once again, he turns the page.
It’s him in his fencing uniform, standing on top of a podium. In one hand, he is holding a shiny medal that’s wrapped against his neck, grinning right beside it. In the other hand, he holds his foil, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Fencer.” He didn’t need to read the word to guess that one.
He turns at least fifteen pages, each one of him in a different occupation, something related to one of his hobbies or likes, even things he’s only ever had a casual interest in. He nearly laughed at the sight of him as an ice dancer. He won’t lie, he did like ice skating, but really?
It’s the last one that leaves him in near tears.
It’s him laying casually on a couch, two little boys tucked under each of his arms, and one little girl curled up against the center of his chest. All four of the people in the picture are fast asleep in front of a TV. “Stay-At-Home Dad” was written next to this drawing.
He chokes down his sob. The driver looks at him through the review mirror in concern, and sees the wide smile across the boy’s face. Happy tears, then.
The next page shows the three children together. He smiles wider at the sight of their last names.
Hugo Dupain-Cheng-Agreste
Louis Dupain-Cheng-Agreste
His eyes land on the girl’s name, and his heart stops.
Emilie “Emma” Dupain-Cheng-Agreste.
He stares, and stares, and stares. Then he closes the sketchbook, and brings it close to his chest, almost scared of the idea of letting it go. He looks out the window and sees the mansion. They’ve apparently been here for quite some time.
He scurries to his room, locks the door, and doesn’t come out until he’s memorized every single page of the sketchbook. Damn the consequences.
He eats dinner that night in a trance. Gabriel even comes down to eat with him, informed by a worried Nathalie of his son’s strange behaviour. Adrien barely acknowledges his presence, too occupied with his thoughts, smiling as though he were floating peacefully on a cloud. Nothing anyone says gets through to him.
He imagines his life with Marinette. Her in a pretty, professional bun and shy, loving smiles, dressed up as she’s about to go to her office as a head designer. Him in casual, comfy clothing as he makes breakfast for their family of five, kissing the cheeks of his three children and the lips of his wife. He’d help the kids get dressed, brush their teeth, and take them to school. Take care of their hamster at home, because they most certainly will have a hamster, he guarantees it. He’ll bring a home cooked lunch directly to his wife’s work, and she’d drop everything to take a lunch break with him because that’s the kind of person she is— attentive… loving…
Beautiful, his mind supplies. Her smile, her personality, her work. All of it absolutely gorgeous. He doesn’t even pretend to disagree. Marinette had planned this whole life around him. She knows what she wants. Her position as a fashion designer won’t change, nor will her future wedding dress. But she left his role in her life so open. Every option is catered around what he’d possibly want in the future. All the occupations he could choose from, their children’s names, where they’d live, who would take whose last name, etc, etc.
He buries his face into his pillow and giddily kicks his feet, his thoughts once again remembering Emilie “Emma” Dupain-Cheng-Agreste. She wants to name their future daughter after his mom.
He cries himself to sleep that night, but unlike every other time, it’s tears of happiness.
He wakes up the next day with a single mission on his mind.
‘I’m going to marry the HELL outta that girl!’
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