callmeakumatized replied to your post “Sigh. I mean yeah it seems like a great episode but when can I get...”
And, well, Adrien's ENTIRE WORLD is different and new and he really DOES have new stimuli to develop thoughts and feelings and other things than he had ever experienced before. It kinda makes sense.
callmeakumatized replied to your post “Sigh. I mean yeah it seems like a great episode but when can I get...”
Well...Marinette is a young teenage girl. If we follow her story, it IS going to be centered around stuff like that. She's not an adult who thinks existentially yet, or even an older teenager who does this. She is super young and is constantly surrounded by happiness from her parents and her super cute crush. She doesn't have a lot of stimulus to really motivate any significant character development, really.
That’s not a good excuse for me at all, sorry to say. She doesn’t have the right stimuli to encourage growth? She’s the main protagonist of a super hero series, so she should be GIVEN something to take her arc from point A to point B so she’s not the same character we started with.
And I don’t agree anyway with the idea that she’s not stimulated... she’s a super hero. She suddenly was thrusted with the fate of an entire city on her shoulders along with a lot of other responsibilities she has as a regular teenager, that’s plenty enough to make a character go through change and hardships. But they’re not even focusing much on that. She’s stagnated, and is entirely removed form the main drama of the show. As a main character at the center of all this miraculous nonsense she should have some stakes in her own story, it doesn’t matter how young she is. But instead all I’m getting so far is that she saves the day or has romantic moments with Adrien. Which is great. But if it just stays like this they’re not giving us a reason to give a shit about her actually being a hero.
I mean people can say ‘this makes sense for how it is’ but not if chat noir is continually treated like the main character, loved to pieces by the fandom while no one could really give two shits about marinette’s story. If it makes sense that marinette is forever just ‘there’ and no one cares about her as her own character then they’re doing something wrong.
Adrien stood on the doorstep of the unassuming but well-groomed house and tried – again – to not think about how he was literally on the threshold of seeing his "crush" for the first time in seven years. He blew out a hard breath, pointedly ignoring the racing of his heart by readjusting the thick black glasses struggling to stay up on his nose. Again. The hand not gripping the basket of patisseries reached up to knock on the door, only to pause in nervous indecision once more. This time, however, the indecision didn't come from having his fourth existential crisis on her doorstep; Adrien, to his horror, had discovered that Marinette had a doorbell. Now, plagued with yet another decision to make – doorbell or knocking – Adrien was all but ready to dash off the porch…when suddenly, a buzz sounded in his pocket.
Thankful for the delay, Adrien eagerly pulled his phone out of his pocket, then scowled at its contents, quickly turning and glaring around the neighborhood with a blush creeping up his cheeks.
From Alys:
WOULD YOU QUIT FREAKING OUT AND RING THE DOORBELL ALREADY GOOD GRACIOUS I'M NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER
He couldn't spot Alya anywhere, cursedly good journalist that she was, so Adrien settled for dramatically shoving his phone back into his pocket without answering her message.
That'll show her.
Now…the door.
"Ah, Tikki," he muttered quietly to the nothingness around him. "How I wish you were here now. I could use some positive encouragement."
Only pulling on his shirt hem to straighten out the wrinkles twice more and pushing his glasses further onto his nose once, Adrien finally reached up and rang the doorbell.
Then immediately wanted to run away.
She needs you! his inner thoughts yelled desperately at him. You were hired for this! DON'T run, AND DON'T SWEAT WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T SWE –
Adrien yelped and stumbled into the small banister that wrapped around the porch when the door suddenly swung open. He inwardly mourned the croissant that leapt out of the basket, but was more intrigued by the big, blue eye peeking out from under the chain lock keeping the door at a safe two inches open.
"Can I help you?" was what Adrien had expected.
"Are you it?" was what the blue-eyed girl gave him instead.
Adrien blinked, still hunched backward over the banister, unsure how to proceed.
"Uh…yes? That is…" He straightened himself up hurriedly, stilting his sigh at another lost pastry in the process, and looked at Blue Eye. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "This is Marinette DupaaaaHHH!"
Another super manly and heroically awesome yelp burst from him when Blue Eye slammed the door just to unlock and yank it open just as quickly, pulling Adrien inside by the arm. Now sprawled out on the floor, Dough Boy hurriedly made a sweep to see if there were any more baked casualties, scrambling up on all fours and crawling through the dimly-lit entryway. Too slowly, he realized how ridiculous he must look and hurried to his feet, fixing his glasses back on his face. Blue Eye was standing at the door still, but facing away from him. Adrien could finally make sure his assailant was the person he thought – hoped? – it was…and when he really looked at her, he felt all at once like he was in between passing out and, to put it frankly, barfing.
It was definitely her.
She was up on her tiptoes in bare feet, a thin silver anklet around one foot and a blue ring around one toe, and still barely tall enough to see through the peephole in her door. A loose black skirt made out of some type of stretchy t-shirt fabric hung whimsically on her hips, something simple that fit her quite nicely. An oversized t-shirt – a Jagged Stone concert tee from a few years prior, Adrien had one just like it – hung loose on her shoulders but was cinched at the bottom, the fabric pulled together to knot in a cute bow. Even from behind (or, well, maybe especially from behind, maybe, if Adrien had really "checked her out", which he definitely did not do, because that would be extremely unprofessional and ungentlemanly), she was still as small and pretty as he remembered. She switched from one eye to the other to stare through the tiny window to the outside, tippy-toes dancing to keep her balanced. The simple action struck Adrien hard enough he physically slapped his chest over his heart in an effort to keep it in there.
Sure, he had magazine cut-outs of her.
Maybe of every modeling gig she had ever done.
And maybe saved every teasing and friendly snapshot of the two of them from the brief time they were in school together.
But….
Marinette really was stunning.
She had grown out her hair, the long black strands ending in dreadlocks, curls, braids, or beads, and somehow working for her. Her bangs were wisped back into a French braid, drawing in some of the free tresses and wrapping around her left ear to show off her small undercut patch there, one Adrien knew used to have the Jagged Stone diamond shape, but seemed to have grown out since then. Those big blue eyes were barely make-upped – so different from her shoots – with just a touch of liner and mascara, and her lips, oh those lips…. The way they moved…and that fulness, and –
Oh crap! They're moving!
PAY ATTENTION, DUMMY!
"…about paparazzi!" Marinette hissed at him. She took one glance back at the door, then took a step toward Adrien, one hand grabbing onto her other arm and tapping furiously. Words Adrien couldn't hear tumbled out of her mouth, and he watched Marinette close her eyes and take a deep breath. Then, as if nothing happened between her last sentence and this moment, her hands snapped to her hips the same instant her eyes snapped to his. "What were you thinking?" Adrien almost held up his basket as a shield against any more conversational interrogation.
"I…wasn't?" he offered.
Honesty is always the best policy. Especially with an angry woman.
Marinette scoffed. She opened her mouth, and Adrien mentally prepared himself for a tongue-lashing…but she shut her mouth again and just stared at him instead. The head tilt that followed made Adrien's knees weak, and for the 142nd time since he agreed to this job, he reminded himself firmly that his thoughts needed to stay professional.
(But, DANG if she didn't look adorable.)
"You look familiar…" Marinette was up on her tiptoes again to get a better look at his face. Adrien flushed in response, the sheer proximity of her enough to blank out his mind again. She grabbed her arm again and muttered something; it looked like she might be counting. Whatever she was saying matched up with the rhythm she patted on her arm. Adrien narrowed his eyes at the gesture, but was caught off guard when her eyes flicked to his for just a moment.
And now she was circling him with those cat-like eyes.
And now she was pinching in the side of his shirt as if measuring the extra fabric there, and though Adrien already had figured out how not prepared for close quarters he was, he now found that physical interaction of any sort with Marinette put his brain into a near-catatonic state. His shoulders hunched when he raised his hands and basket away from the hem of the shirt Marinette was measuring, but it wasn't to be helpful to her; the motion was a pure reflex, as if his subconscious knew that, while this was a bad situation, any skin-to-skin contact – accidental or otherwise – would result in death. Or something like that.
"If you wear a shirt size smaller," Marinette said, seemingly to the shirt itself instead of Adrien, "it would fit your torso better…but being so tall, you should find a store with a tall size. A lot of them have those sizes online, even if it's not in the physical location. Now the pants…"
No, not the pants.
Not.
The.
Pants.
Normal bodily functions – like breathing – where becoming difficult, just with Marinette being who she is and touching him. Now, with little more than a verbal warning, Adrien felt rather than saw her small hands grab a hold of the fabric so close to his, uh, back pants pockets and then use the same "measuring" or whatever technique she had used on his shirt from that spot all the way down the side of his leg.
He was almost positive he could hear the slight fizzle as his brain short-circuited.
At least, because of this brain malfunction, he didn't jump or flail like he normally word have.
"You have nice assets here," Marinette was muttering on to him.
Did she just…?
Did she just…!?
"…But this cut is wrong for your height." Marinette took a small step back and looked up into the space above Adrien and down to his feet before looking him over again. "How tall are you?"
Guuhhh….Marin – WAIT. DIRECT QUESTION! ANSWER, ANSWER, ANSWER - !
"Uhh…6'1"?"
"Holey cheeseballs…" Again, Marinette held onto her arm and tapped on it, her lips moving in tandem. But before Adrien had a second to study the odd habit further, she circled him again. Only this time, when she came back to his front and pulled on his shirt, she stretched the fabric tight against his skin and started touching his abs.
Adrien died a little at the approving hum she gave him.
"Huh," she said plainly, a tone of surprise evident. "Not bad. Were you a model in a former life?" She smiled a little to herself, as if she had just made a joke.
It was something said in jest, surely.
…Right?
"Uh, excuse me," her voice sounded from farther away, and when Adrien shook himself out of his current daze, he realized she had started to move through the house. "I can give you tips to actually dress properly, but if I have to think for you too, you're fired."
"Th-That – " Adrien choked out, then cleared his throat, dropping his still-propped-up arms in the process. "That won't be necessary, Mlle."
"Hm." Marinette looked like she would say something more, but remained silent. She turned and started down the dark hallway again, skirt and long hair flowing in tandem. "Follow me, then, and I'll explain what I need you to do."
Adrien's steps were slow to respond, his mind sobering with every step. Marinette had grabbed onto her arm again, and started tapping her finger on the skin by her elbow once more. The action spoke louder to Adrien than anything Marinette had said or done so far. The girl Adrien had known in school had changed more than even he – or Alya – had anticipated. A sigh escaped from the breath he had been holding. While he watched Marinette move deftly through the hallways – and so silently Adrien's footsteps seemed abnormally loud – he could see the glimpse of the girl from before, the one who had come to rescue him on more than one occasion, even though she never realized who he really was to her. At this thought, a scene from the past came to mind, unbidden, as he watched her swaying steps ahead of him.
Adrien, the baker boy, as he was wont to do, leapt onto the small table on his rooftop terrace, facing Chat Noire as she lounged cross-legged in his chair. In one hand he brandished his broom like a sword, and in his other hand he held his watering can shield.
"And then the brave knight – that's me, Kitten, remember that – would slay the dragon and rescue the princess. 'Oh! Sir Knight!'" he'd say in a falsetto voice that always made Chat Noire burst out laughing, usually spilling milk through her nose. "'Just Adrien, my dear'," – he'd follow in as deep a voice as he could make – "'Oooohhh AAaaddrrieeeennn…' she'd say, as I sweep her off her feet and – "
"Promptly drop her right on her face, as per usual! The end!" Chat would laugh and laugh at this joke, holding her stomach as she did so.
"I was going to say, 'as we rode off into the sunset,'" Adrien responded in an unimpressed tone, dropping his arms to his sides. "But I suppose I'd have to admit that your way is more accurate." He'd laugh and roll his eyes, and just as he picked up another bun, Chat would snatch it from him, blinking her slitted eyes and winking.
Dunno whether it’s better to share this clip or Sia’s “I’m Alive” song, but either way, it gets the message across. For all the empty promises of chapters and stories and things the last few...ugh, MONTHS!? Seriously!? Alright, well, yeah, so, the last few months may have given the impression that I’d moved on (take that as you like it), but I’M STILL HERE.
Thank you to EVERYONE WHO STILL COMMENTS, FAVS, KUDOS, and MESSAGES ME for your support, and for showing more faith in me than I had for myself!!
MY GIRLFRIEND’S BOYFRIEND, CH. 22 (PREVIEW):
Ladybug froze when a small “umph!” sounded from what she supposed to be the stage area. A small collection of what she thought were footfalls were coming closer. They stopped suddenly, followed by the sounds of a scuffle.
“Chat!?” Ladybug said more urgently. “Chat Noir, is that you? Chat, where are you? I can’t see any-ack!”
Ah, right. There was a row of chairs there.
Ladybug’s feet found the back row of the seats easily.
Her face found the next one.
As she laid there for a moment, groaning and blinking the stars out of her vision, a sudden hand on her ankle pulled her into rapt attention. A second of reaction time was all she needed to leap to her feet and throw her yo-yo blindly in front of her. A hard thunk! not two feet in front of her had Ladybug stumbling back in surprise.
“Uh, ow!?”
“Chat?” Ladybug didn’t shoot her yo-yo out again, but she did shuffle back a few paces more, just in case. A softer, familiar grip on her wrist made her tense.
“It’s me, M’Lady,” Chat’s voice answered quietly in front of her. Ladybug let out the breath she had been holding in, eyes trying and failing to see her minou who was, apparently, right in front of her. “Sorry I couldn’t answer earlier. Akuma problems, you know.”
A slight pressure cupped her shoulder, five little pinpricks squeezed gently, furthering her ease. Ladybug smiled at the smirk she couldn’t see but knew was plastered on his face.
Chat removed his hand – paw? claws? – from her frame but continued to tug on her wrist. They started to move through the aisle and then down the walkway of what Ladybug supposed to be toward the stage, judging by the downward slope. Chat was walking ahead of her, Ladybug gripping his hand like a lifeline in the all-consuming darkness. To fight the uneasiness threatening to plague her again, Ladybug tried to return to the banter they normally fell into.
“Akuma problems?” She snorted in dramatic derision. “Non, Chaton. I don’t believe I have any idea what you’re talking about.” He hummed a laugh in reply, squeezing her hand at the same time.
Speaking of…
There was one thing she needed answered before she forgot.
Ladybug pulled on Chat’s hand and they stopped, the tug loosening enough that Ladybug knew Chat had turned to look at her.
“You…uh…” Ladybug shifted her weight uncomfortably. “You didn’t see me before, well, just now, did you?”
“What? I – no?” His answer sounded like a question. “Should I have? I was a little busy...?”
A sigh left her body, and Ladybug almost smiled in relief.
“Nope, you’re good! Now, what are we dealing with, Chat?”
“I don’t really…know? He’s like a phantom – moves through walls and stuff – we won’t be able to latch onto him.”
“Yeah...I kinda got the gist of that like, ten minutes ago.” Ladybug bit her lip, thinking about previous Akumas and if they had fought anything like this before. To her memory, they hadn’t. “Did you see the Akumatized item by chance?”
Chat had her by the hand again. He started to lead her up the small staircase – she only stumbled once and only banged her shin minorly, so she was going to tally that as a victory – to the stage while she asked her questions. Before he could answer the last one, however, Ladybug spit out another.
“Where are we going? Is he up here?”
“Yes, he is.”
Maybe it was the tone of these words. Maybe it was the way Chat’s grip on her wrist tightened to a degree it never had before.
But, most likely, it was how Chat yelled out “Cataclysm!” right in front of her face.
---
THANKS FOR READING!! The full chapter should be out (I’m hesitating saying this word) tomorrow. It’s written, just needs editing.
...And then the next one should be out before the weekend. ;)
callmeakumatized replied to your photo “Someone was out patrolling the streets and keeping them safe this...”
Soooo cute!!! And yeah, those ribbons are pretty awesome! :D
Thank you! :D Seriously, I’m so absurdly proud of them. I knew kiddo wouldn’t sit still for blue hair at this point, but kiddo also “helped” to make the ribbons for that.
