I absolutely completely loved these beautiful fanarts of Miraculous Ladybug from Caljean's ship of the characters Ms Caline Bustier and Butler Jean (Ardmand) together but above all because I really love absolutely completely that in the image of Caline and Jean we see how in they mention about that they would be great adoptive parents for Chloe although I think more about them as honorary uncles but I also love how in the second fanart we see Jean and Caline about to kiss but above all because for me it is absolutely beautiful the idea that Caline and Jean are a romantic couple even though I am aware that during the series they do not get together but nevertheless I will not lie when I can't imagine the 2 with Gisele being a beautiful couple polyous love during season 6 of Miraculous Ladybug in every possible way
By the way, these fanarts of them are not mine and the credits are not for me, but I let you know that right here I am going to leave you the link of the real creator in Miraculous Ladybug Fandom.
Summary: Gabriel and Nathalie are in love. Everyone can see it except the two of them. As Valentine’s Day approaches, Adrien rounds up some friends to try and get their ship sailing.
This fic is now officially part of a series on AO3. Don’t know if it will have a sequel yet (it’s a possibility), but this chapter mentioned a few things which I’d like to do as individual one-shots.
Other ships now mentioned in this fic are Rolling-Stone and Caljean. (Thinking of doing a companion one-shot for each of those ships.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Caline Bustier/Majordome Jean | Butler Jean
Characters: Caline Bustier, Majordome Jean | Butler Jean (Miraculous Ladybug)
Additional Tags: sweet and shippy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Series: Part 3 of Caljean Serial One-Shot Stories
Summary:
Caline wakes from a Zombizou dream and Jean comes over to help her feel better.
“What if it rains? We didn’t care
She said that someday soon
The sun is gonna shine
And she was right, this love of mine
My Valentine”
My Valentine - Paul McCartney
I have a new ship! Thanks to @baneismydragon, who brought up the idea on Discord and now I can’t stop thinking about it. They are so sweet and kind and the thought of them together brings me joy. Hope you like it!
I absolutely loved these beautiful images of this publication of Miraculous Ladybug of the Caljean ship of the characters Ms Caline Bustier and Butler Jean (Ardmand) together but also because I love that in the first image we see how in addition to the ship of Jean and Caline we also see how in it they also include Gabriel's ships with Nathalie, as well as Jagged with Penny, as well as Marinette Tom and Sabine Dupain-Chen's parents while at the same time I also absolutely love it completely as in the second image we see we have different images and in them we see how Gabriel and Nathalie's ships are also present along with Jagged and Penny's in addition to Tom and Sabine but I also love how now the couple of Nino and Alya are also present together but in addition to that I also absolutely love it completely that in the third image we see how Gabriel and Nathalie's ship appears again but now with Adrien included in it but also because I really would have loved to see Nathalie stay with Gabriel and that she would have been Adrien's stepmother but in addition to them I also love Jean and Caline's ship appears again but also because I love how in the images of them we see them with Chloe since Jean is giving her stuffed animal to comfort her because he really cares about her but also because I would have liked to see more of their relationship together but I also love how they show Caline lovingly hugging Chloe after she was saved by Ladybug and Chat Noir but above all because even if it seems ridiculous that she says it I still have hopes that we will see Chloe redeem herself during season 6 of Miraculous Ladybug and we see her become a better person in every possible way
By the way, these beautiful fanart of them are not mine and the credits are not for me, but I will let you know that right here I am going to leave you the link of the real creator on Tumblr
💬 1 🔁 2 ❤️ 48 · MLB: Favourites Lists · For months I’ve had a mental list of my four favourite characters, and two OTPs. But in recent day
This new story is inspired by Aurora Lynne’s sweet Caline Bustier/Butler Jean artwork! Don’t judge me for having a new ship, lol. This is the beginning of a new series involving many of the adults from the world of Miraculous.
Read it on Ao3.
A Beginning
Part 1 of Stories From Le Bar Des Vosges
Caline checked her watch, not even a little bit annoyed. She swirled the wine left in her glass and glanced over at the old, creaky door of Le Bar des Vosges.
Mendeleiev must have some grading to finish, Caline decided, draining her wine glass. Oh well. Sometimes Fridays were like that. She’d just have another glass while she waited. As grouchy as her compatriot seemed to the students, Caline knew how dedicated she was. Mendeleiev demanded much, but she gave as well. Admirable qualities in a teacher.
Caline lifted a finger to the pretty bartender, her gaze wandering over the other patrons. It was only five o’clock - the place wasn’t in full Friday night swing yet. She stopped when she saw her only neighbor at the bar - a tall man, slender, hair neatly trimmed, with a thin moustache. Caline frowned. What was the personal butler of Mayor Bourgeois doing here on a weekday?
Her glass refilled, Caline inched her way down to the man. His glass held liquor over ice, she noticed. Uh oh, she thought as she took in his bowed head and slumped shoulders. Had he been fired or something? Caline politely cleared her throat.
The man’s head snapped up, but he relaxed when he saw Caline’s gentle smile.
“Aren’t you Jean - uh, Jean-” she fumbled for his full name.
“Si, yes, Butler Jean Something-or-Other, that’s me,” he replied, droll.
“I’m so sorry. It’s just that we’ve never been introduced.”
Jean waved off her apology and lifted his glass, then stopped midway to his mouth and set it back down.
“Please excuse me; would you like to have a seat?” He gestured to the bar stool beside him.
Caline stretched up on tiptoe and seated herself, her long legs nearly touching the floor. Jean gave her a perfunctory half-smile, then raised his glass again.
“Your health, Mademoiselle,” he said, taking a small sip.
“I don’t mean to intrude, Monsieur, but is everything alright?” Caline asked.
She watched the man carefully. He had only recently been akumatized, after all. And with her own fresh experience of Hawkmoth’s control, she knew the raw emotions could linger.
Behind the glass, Jean’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “No need to be so formal. You can call me Jean. And yes, I’m alright. It’s been a trying day at Le Grande Paris, but nothing to be worried about. I won’t go running to Hawkmoth over it.”
Caline grimaced. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s a little bit what you meant, Mademoiselle,” Jean replied, but his eyes twinkled.
Caline laughed. “Well, if I’m to call you Jean, you must call me Caline. Only my students call me Mademoiselle. And believe me, you have only my sympathy - not my suspicion.”
“I believe you. Ah, yes, you teach at Collège Françoise Dupont? And you have the honor of teaching my employer’s daughter, correct?”
Caline laughed again. Jean’s tone made it all too clear the kind of honor he meant regarding Chloe Bourgeois. Jean was far from the humorless subordinate she assumed Mayor Bourgeois thought he employed. And she liked how his moustache twitched every time he made one of his ironic comments.
“She can be a real so-and-so at times, can’t she?” Caline admitted.
Jean laughed, a short, sardonic bark. He finished his glass and set it quietly back on the bar.
“I suppose that’s one way to put it. I might choose other words, if it didn’t put my job at risk.”
“She’s only fourteen. Give her time,” suggested Caline.
“Words to live by,” Jean replied. He eyed his empty glass.
“Let me,” Caline offered, putting a hand on his shoulder. She caught the bartender’s attention. “One more for my friend?”
The young woman nodded and went to ready the drink. Caline rested an elbow on the bar and set her chin in her palm. No students to see her looking so informal, anyway.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you at our little watering hole before, Jean. What brings you out?”
Jean restlessly slid his glass back and forth between two fingers, the ice clinking softly. “I am relieved by my second-in-command every third Friday for a night off. He let me sneak away a bit early this evening.”
“To drink alone?”
“Well… on short notice, yes.”
“But usually you would plan such an outing with friends?”
“Of course.”
“Alright, then,” Caline leaned back, satisfied.
“What about you, Caline? Are you not here on a Friday evening, drinking alone?”
“Ah, but I’m waiting for a friend, Jean. She just happens to be busy. And we meet here every Friday, short notice or not.”
“Mmm.”
Jean pretended to disbelieve her, but his dark eyes gave him away. Caline giggled. Was the wine going to her head? Surely not. It was only a leisurely glass and a half. Some little thrill wriggled in her stomach and she pressed on, feeling bold.
“I suppose now that we’ve met, we are each drinking with a friend, Jean.”
“Our mutual problem is solved,” he agreed.
The bartender brought Jean’s new glass and they toasted.
“Tell me about your day, Jean,” Caline asked.
“Oh, you mean what specifically drove me to a bar?” he replied.
Amazed, Caline stared. Jean didn’t employ any kind of small talk - he cut right to the heart of her meaning as though he read her mind. She nodded and he straightened up, taking on the air of a man asked to recite.
“Mr. Cuddly,” he announced solemnly, “went into the wash with the regular hotel laundry. He is specifically supposed to be laundered by hand using fragrance-free soap. His delicate seams will not hold up to machine washing, Caline. I am, apparently, too cruel for words. In addition, the floral scent is unseemly and will irritate Miss Bourgeois’ nasal membranes. My second-in-command, who will be canonized if my petition to the Pope is answered favorably, is currently completing the three hand washes required to bring Mr. Cuddly back to his normal non-scent. I, meanwhile, am in hiding lest a silver tray or some other implement of destruction is employed to remove my head from my shoulders.”
Caline’s eyes grew wider and wider as Jean spoke. When he stopped, she placed a hand over her mouth, but it was no use. Her laugh cut across the half-empty bar, filling its corners and echoing back to the two of them. Jean’s mustache twitched as he eyed her. Caline leaned over and laughed until tears were streaming from her eyes. She waved a hand at Jean apologetically, but he began to chuckle, too. He caught her free hand and then clapped her on the shoulder as he laughed.
“You- you and that damn bear! You should burn it!” she gasped, holding on to the bar.
“I can’t,” he wheezed, wiping his eyes. “She’d notice.”
“True, true. You’ll have to grin - and bear it!” Caline replied, cracking up again.
Jean looked pained as he laughed. “That was beneath you, Caline. Chat Noir’s level, even.”
“That man has a talent for word play, even if you’re incapable of appreciating it,” Caline retorted.
“Friends are allowed to respect each other’s differences,” he decided, musing. “But the jokes are not good, Caline. They are too easy.”
“Fine, fine, have it your way,” she assented. “It’s not my problem if you have poor ta-”
She was interrupted by a loud, irritating ring. Jean grimaced. From one pocket, he produced a slim phone in a black case.
“I am summoned. It appears my night off is canceled,” he said, looking at the screen.
“Oh, Jean, how disappointing. I’m sorry,” replied Caline. She frowned. “That’s not very fair at all.”
Jean shrugged. “It is what it is.”
He pocketed the phone, but stopped and pulled it back out. He tapped its screen lightly with his thumbs, then turned it around.
“Mademoiselle Bustier - Caline - would you be so kind as to - uh, that is - may I call you sometime?”
A somber, but not stern, demeanor had replaced his playful attitude. Caline looked at the man seated next to her. He wore a smooth non-expression on his face and not a single hair was astray. Then she noticed the bright pink tips of his ears and the way he held himself perfectly straight, not even breathing.
This is part 3 of Stories from le Bar des Vosges, an ongoing series about the adults of the Miraculous universe that I update from time to time. It’s more Caline Bustier and Majordome Jean, inspired by the art of @auroralynne, of course!
Many thanks to @livinglittlelie for her killer beta skills, which make all the difference.
Read, kudos, and comment on Ao3!
“...you should have seen the look on his face when I told him it was full of worms!” Mendeleiev chortled as she and Caline unwound over drinks after a long school day.
The summery evening had cooled to a pleasant temperature as the sun sank low in the sky. Friday nights at le Bar des Vosges tended to be more cheerful than raucous. The cozy atmosphere attracted locals in and around 21st arrondissement. Caline and Mendeleiev were Friday happy hour fixtures, rain or shine. They were seated prominently at their usual stools near the front door and the antique stained glass window.
Caline laughed into her wineglass and wiped a tear from her eye. “Mendeleiev, you never fail to surprise me. Surely it wasn’t, right?”
Mendeleiev nodded, satisfied with the reaction her tale had elicited. “You know me, Caline. I never lie to our students. Cajole, badger, harp, perhaps even wheedle, but not lie. It’s… well, it’s beneath my dignity, for one thing. For another, the truth is much more fun.”
Mendeleiev wiggled her eyebrows and tossed a devilish smile at the bartender. The woman’s hair was blonde this week. Caline could tell that Mendeleiev approved. Caline patted her own ginger locks and looked at her watch.
Mendeleiev observed Caline’s nervous motions. “So tell me more about this mystery man. You’re sure he exists…?”
“Mendeleiev, don’t tease,” Caline replied, rather sharply.
Mendeleiev sat back, eyes wide, and Caline sighed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m nervous, that’s all. Jean’s called to talk and we’ve texted a few times, but he’s so busy - at all hours! Honestly, I never knew the Bourgeois family was so demanding.”
“But you have seen him, haven’t you?” Mendeleiev asked, curious.
“Well… he took me out to coffee. Once. It was lovely.”
Mendeleiev opened her mouth at the radiant expression on Caline’s face, then closed it and just shook her head. No point in reiterating her doubts that this Jean could become anything more than a casual suitor; Caline clearly wasn’t in the mood to entertain discussion on the matter. Caline checked her watch again.
“It’s only six hours thirteen. He just got off of work; we’ll probably see him soon.” Smiling at the other patrons, Caline took a moment to wave at a few familiar faces before turning back to her friend.
“In that case, a refill for me, please,” Mendeleiev indicated her glass and the bartender came over with a broad smile.
The door of the bar slammed open and Caline looked up, her heart in her throat. She frowned when she recognized Nadja Chamack and her colleague Alec Cataldi. They were deep in conversation as they passed Caline and Mendeleiev; clearly shop talk held over from work at the TV station.
One half of Mendeleiev’s mouth drew up in a smirk. Caline returned the look with a rueful smile of her own.
“So, any other stories about your recalcitrant students?” she asked.
“I’d rather hear about your dream class,” Mendeleiev retorted. “Any akumatizations this week?”
Caline rolled her eyes. “No, I think just about all of them have been through it now. As have I. I wonder if you can only get akumatized once?”
Mendeleiev forcefully shook her head. “Not enough data. I wouldn’t make that assumption. Besides, Ivan Bruel’s experience would indicate otherwise.”
Caline tapped her chin.
“I suppose that’s true. I’d forgotten. He was a special case, though,” she added as an afterthought. “Ladybug didn’t get rid of all the stone people around town the first time.”
“Regardless, it’s a point of inquiry I have no desire to pursue,” Mendeleiev concluded with a flat wave of her hand.
“Same,” Caline agreed and took a sip of her wine.
A quiet bump rattled their glasses. Caline looked down in alarm, then up at a tiny stream of dust filtering down from the ceiling.
“Did you feel that?” she asked Mendeleiev, whose gaze followed hers upward.
Both women covered their wine glasses as a second vibrating jolt shook loose more dust. Akuma sirens started whining in the distance. The noise of the bar quieted, then picked back up with a few shrill questions bouncing over the bed of conversation.
Mendeleiev exhaled a muttered string of curses. “Hawkmoth would have the audacity to interrupt my Friday night wine time.”
“Well, they always tell us to stay off the streets, so I’m not leaving,” Caline replied, tossing back the last of her glass.
The door to the bar opened on a quiet creak, letting in a tall, flustered man in a plum colored button-down and tailored slacks. Jean shut the door quickly and pressed his back to it, catching his breath.
“Oh! Jean!” Caline’s voice sounded unnaturally high in her ears as her hand fluttered above her head in greeting.
Jean gulped, but managed a smile as he caught Caline’s eye. The smile warmed as he stepped away from the door and joined the two women at the bar. Jean took Caline’s hands in his own. She noticed that they trembled slightly as the pair traded kisses on either cheek.
“Caline, how are you?” he murmured, his voice a low tenor.
Caline stared up into his dark eyes, her response forgotten on her lips. Had it really only been two weeks since she’d seen him? It seemed much longer. His hair was shorter; he’d gotten it cut. Mendeleiev cleared her throat and Caline started.
“Ah, Jean, let me introduce you to my colleague, Ms. Mendeleiev,” she said, pulling a hand free and indicating her friend.
“Just Mendeleiev, if you please,” the woman said with an uncharacteristically sincere smile.
“Lovely to meet yo-”
A loud crack that shook the windows interrupted their introductions. Jean winced slightly, then chuckled.
“It’s a nasty akuma this time. Ladybug and Chat Noir are already on the scene. I had to run ‘round the corner to escape the crossfire,” he explained, placing his elbows on the bar and ordering a drink.
Caline covered her mouth with one hand, but Mendeleiev’s eyes sparkled.
“A close one, eh?” she queried as the bartender poured a glass of red wine for Jean.
“A bit. The akuma didn’t see me, though. I was nearly here and already under the arches. You look...very nice, Caline,” he finished, turning back to her.
Bewildered, Caline blushed all the way to her collarbone. “Thank you. You as well.”
To her credit, Mendeleiev did not roll her eyes as she looked away to give the lovebirds a moment. There were several ominous rumbles outside as Jean took Caline’s hands again.
“I meant to call yesterday and-”
“I know, I got your text.” Caline shook her head. “Did she really-”
The stained-glass window at the front of le Bar des Vosges crashed inward, spewing glass all over the floor. Mendeleiev yelled and threw one arm over her face. Shards skated toward the feet of shocked patrons.
For a moment, the bar was completely silent. Then a figure in garish shades of green and pink with motorcycles for legs revved up and through the broken bar window, screeching unintelligibly. Everyone who wasn’t seated backed up, leaving the narrow center of the old bar clear. Jean stepped laterally, in front of Caline, but stilled when the akuma’s eyes flicked over them.
The smell of exhaust and the turbulent roar of engines polluted the small space quickly. Caline covered her nose and mouth, but it didn’t help. She and her companions could hear a voice from outside, despite the cacophony.
“I’m getting wheelie, wheelie tired of chasing you, Vicious Cycle,” Chat Noir admonished, dropping in neatly through the window. Glass crunched under his steel-pawed boots as he brandished his baton.
Ladybug landed next to him. The bar hardly afforded her enough room to whirl her yo-yo. Caline was close enough to see the pink crackle of its magic.
“We’ve got to get out of here. Too many civilians,” she murmured to Chat Noir.
His ears flicked in acknowledgement. Fortunately, the akuma’s only aim was to avoid pursuit. Vicious Cycle took off at breakneck speed across the ancient floor beams toward the back exit, tires squealing offensively.
“Thank goodness,” Chat Noir sighed. “I think I may be too young to handlebars anyway.”
Ladybug made an exasperated noise and grabbed Chat Noir by the upper arm, dragging him after her. He waved awkwardly at at the bar as they passed.
“Hi, Ms. Mendeleiev, Ms. Bustier.”
The women stared at him, bug eyed. The whole bar waited in silence until they heard the slam of the back door. Immediately, everyone started chattering.
“I got it all!” Nadja Chamack crowed from a booth near the back. She triumphantly waved a cell phone above her head. “Take that, Ladyblog!”
The blonde bartender came around with a broom and dustpan, but Mendeleiev placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t bother. Just wait for the creepy magic ladybug swarm to swoop through. You deserve a few minutes’ break.”
The woman grinned and sat on a barstool next to Mendeleiev, leaning back on her elbows to survey the damage and converse. As her friend was otherwise occupied, Caline turned back to Jean. He tilted her chin up with a fingertip.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied, breathless. She couldn’t tell if it was the air pollution or Jean’s fingers at her chin. “Are you?”
“Right as rain,” he confirmed, staring deeply into Caline’s eyes.
On impulse, Caline straightened up just as Jean’s head dipped down. Their foreheads met with a blunt smack. Pain shot through Caline’s head; she scrunched her eyes closed as Jean drew back and rubbed a red spot between his brows.
“Ow,” they said, then Jean’s mustache twitched and they both laughed.
“May I?” asked Caline, standing.
Jean dropped his hand and Caline smoothed hesitant fingertips over his eyebrows. She could see the tight muscles of his face relax as she did so. Her knuckles curled and the backs of her fingers slid down to rest gently against Jean’s cheekbones. He reached up and pressed one palm to his cheek, closing his enchanting eyes.
A familiar flickering light flowed through the bar, warm and pink as sunset. Jean blinked, startled, but Caline pulled him down into a kiss under the cover of magic ladybugs. His breath mingled with hers, sweet, as he exhaled in surprise. When he brought his arms around her, Caline’s other hand went to the nape of his neck. She combed her fingers through the soft hair there. She tilted her head and pressed even closer. Her heart jackhammered against her ribs as Jean moved his lips shyly against hers.
As the warmth and light around them receded, Jean reluctantly released her. The window had reverted to its former splendor; there were no tire marks on the old, scratched floor. Jean leaned against the bar top as if dazed.
“Wha - why, Caline, I-”
She placed a finger on his soft lips and smiled. “Shhh, Jean. You’re safe with me.”
Jean recovered quickly; his eyebrow quirked and the corners of his mouth drew up in a tiny smile. “I’m not sure ‘safe’ is the word I would choose.”
I could’t get this idea out of my head, so here we are. #squadgoals
Work was stressful. Work sucked, even when it was mostly enjoyable. Not every day could be a winner after all. But the only thing that was worse than a sucky day at work was a sucky week. And the only thing worse than that? Depended on if you were Nathalie Sancoeur or not. But there was one silver lining to all of this. Nathalie had her girls.
Today, of course a Friday of all days, had been particularly trying. It seemed that as more time passed all Gabriel wanted to do was remain transformed, endlessly looking for that perfect champion who could finally bring him his heart’s desire. Nathalie liked to think she understood the man, though someone completely understanding Gabriel Agreste was as likely as pigs naturally sprouting wings. In any case, what Nathalie did understand was that this wasn’t healthy. Well, it hadn’t been healthy to begin with, but it was even worse now. At least when Emilie had been here things had at least seemed okay. But now she was gone and it was more than obvious Gabriel didn’t know how to function as a proper human being without her. Nathalie wished she could help, but she was paid incredibly well to remain in her place. That didn’t mean she couldn’t find ways to rebel from within the system. Unfortunately, those instances didn’t occur very often.
She sent a text out to her squad, good lord that Nino boy’s slang had really rubbed off on Adrien, and it was seriously starting to affect her now too. But fuck it, she needed a break. And she was almost certain they did too. Tonight was going to be a Girl’s Night Out, and they all knew just where they wanted to go.
One might have thought that Adrien was nuts when he said he’d go to Japan for a karaoke bar. Luckily for his father, one had opened up in Paris and was doing wonders for the owner. Everyone loved coming, and those with the money would rent out the backrooms for the entire night. Nathalie and her girlfriends loved getting ready, pregaming, and then taking the Agreste driver out to the establishment. One of the few perks of being the boss’ assistant was that she had as much access to a vehicle as they did, and it was always useful for nights like this.
The replies came in, yes the girls would love a night free to drink away their responsibilities. The only question now was that the theme of the outfits would be for tonight. Were they thinking short and sequined? Bejeweled? Or maybe even something a little more risque? The consensus ended up being jewel tones and party dresses; the time set for five-thirty at Nathalie’s spacious apartment. Nathalie set out a few bottles of wine and some overly large glasses as she let down her hair from it’s painfully tight bun. She was definitely going to need some aspirin, or alcohol. And right now, she was leaning towards the latter.
She was halfway done with her first glass, not even out of her work clothes, when the first knock came on the door. Standing on the other side was Penny Rolling, Jagged Stone’s assistant. Being that they were both the right hands of incredibly powerful, if not juvenile at times, men there was a sacred kinship between them. Hanging over her arm Penny had her dress, a garnet number without straps and lines for ruching down the center of the front and back, accentuating her curves and playing nicely with her tone and hair.
