#mlcreators

[anakinh]

ML fandom week → Day 4: Character-centric

Chat Noir & Kitty Traits

[seaweedbraens]

Responsibility isn't something to be taken lightly. I should know.

[miyugaze]

[aangisdead]

“Thank goodness for best friends. For true friends, the ones who love you no matter what.” ― Laura McNeill (Stay Tuned)

hi @mambo-astrid​ i was your backup secret santa for @mlsecretsanta!! hope you like this alyanette friendship gifset and happy belated holidays!

[lvnce-mcclain]

Interior Design and Other Possibilities

Hey! I was the back up secret santa gifter for @simply--miraculous for the mlcreators’ secret santa! I hope you like it! 

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Ship: Adrienette

Word Count: 1560

Rating: G

Summary:   Moving is always better with good friends with good taste. 

AO3

“Adrien, you know I love you, but I can't let you do this to yourself.”

“Yeah, dude. This is kind of sad.”

“I hate to say it, but I agree. Very sad indeed.”

“Et tu, princess?” Adrien pouted, hands falling dejectedly from the god-awful curtains he had been eyeing. Marinette shrugged, unapologetic for the greyish-greenish-yellowish color of the fabric he had picked.

Alya sighed, hip cocked out and a look that said she was ready to fight if he didn't step away from the paisley. “Listen, I don't know how you could be in fashion for so long and not be able to pick out some decent curtains for your first apartment, but that's why we're here.”

“And why we’re being honest, bro. Good bros don't let bros get the wrong pop of color.” Nino gave him a cheeky grin, pulling Adrien towards the bold solids.

Adrien let himself be dragged, giving one last longing look toward the pretty swirls of the paisley. “I'm just not that good at interior design. Fashion is easy, there's only one me to decorate- not an entire room! Ugh. This is the worst.”

“You could always go with a minimalist style,” Marinette mused, flicking some sheer white curtains his way.

It didn't seem like a half bad idea, but Alya balked. “Our little ball of sunshine with a minimalist apartment? Psssh. It needs to shine has brightly as he does.”

“Aw, Alya, that's so-”

“Plus, you know we're going to be hanging out there all the time so I want some big comfy chairs and it clashes with the minimalist look.”

“Nevermind, moment ruined.”

“What? She's not wrong, dude. Minimalism doesn't exactly scream maximum comfort.”

“Fine, fine. No minimalism, be picky.” Marinette knocked shoulders with Nino with a small huff and playful smile.

“Then what should I be looking for?” Adrien asked, tossing a throw pillow at Alya from a nearby display of coordinating pillows and blankets. She caught it easily, tossing it back with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, what do you want? Besides those seriously ugly curtains.”  Alya joined Marinette on a lounge display, both girls watching as Adrien sighed dramatically clutching the throw pillow to his chest.

“I don't knooooow. I guess I just… Want it to look like a place people would want to be. I wanna walk through the door and feel warm. I want it to be a home for all the people I love.”

“Dude.” Nino sniffed, crushing Adrien into a hug as the girls turned it into a group hug and mumbled things about being too pure.

“But seriously, big comfy chairs, Adrien. Think of the possibilities.”

Adrien hefted a bag of groceries up higher in his arms as Marinette stole the keys from his pocket. “I didn't know Alya had such a passion for interior design,” he chuckled, following Marinette's laugh through the front door and to the kitchen of his new apartment.

“I'm not sure if it's design, or the fact you're the first of us to get your own place. Either way though, I think she has a pretty good future in it if she wanted.”

“Pssssssh. I don't think so. I for one thought the curtains you picked out were awesome, Adrien. The color reminded me of camembert.” Plagg interjected, flying out from Adrien’s collar. Tikki pushed herself out of Marinette’s purse, glaring over at her counterpart.

“Cheese isn't a good model for good taste, Plagg. I think Alya could definitely make a career with her eye for complementary furniture.”

“True. She could convert her journalism blog to a design blog pretty easy, probably. Who needs life long dreams? Overrated, I say.” Plagg teased, twirling around Tikki as she batted him away.

“Maybe it would take her attention off the Ladyblog too,” Marinette mused, helping Adrien sort through the groceries as their kwamis played tag throughout the bare apartment.

Adrien hummed, nabbing the bottle of wine from the bag and rummaging for two glasses out of the sparse cabinets. “I'm pretty sure Alya will follow us to the ends of the earth, my lady.” He triumphantly turned to her with two mismatched glasses and filled them up. “Or at least until the end of her phone battery life,” he teased with a grin.

Marinette rolled her eyes but didn't deny it, taking her glass and inspecting it. “You got more,” she accused without much heat, switching their glasses before taking a sip and taking in the space. It wasn't much, not yet at least, but it was coming along.

Adrien leaned against the counter next to her, clinking glasses. “Well, at least it's over. The big stuff is now ordered and should be delivered in a week, Nathalie is sending over some odds and ends she said she found while going through storage, and Father is well. Supporting my decision in his own way.”

“Still only sending you emails with links to articles about why it's better to stay at home as long as possible?”

“... It’s progressed to statistics on success rates based off people who live at home longer, but at least now I know he misses me. Too bad he didn't while I was actually there, but it's a start. I guess.”

“He'll start actually speaking to you on a regular basis within a year at this rate,” Marinette predicted dryly. “I guess all parents handle change differently. I don't know how my parents will take it whenever I eventually move out.”

“I'll miss your dad’s freshly baked cookies,” Tikki sighed, zipping away from Plagg and landing on Marinette’s shoulder for a nuzzle.

“You and me both, Tikki.” Adrien mimicked her sigh.

“Well, I'm sure it won't be for a while, so both of you can stop looking so heartbroken.” Marinette lightly shoved Adrien’s armed with a laugh, finishing off her glass before she crossed over to the living area.

Adrien’s eyes followed her, watching as she twirled slowly, seeming to enjoy the bare wood floors while in her socks. He idly thought he should get a rug, but then he'd miss out on views like the one before him. “You don't think you'll move out any time soon?”

“Oh, chaton, I don't know. I didn't think I would want to, but…”

“But…?” When she didn't seem to want to answer, he stepped over to her and caught her hand, twirling her himself. “Something change your mind?”

She didn't miss a beat, letting herself be spun out gently before being pulled back into a closed position. “Well yeah. I know actually managing to get your apartment was a hassle, but now look at you. This is nice, this whole actually having your own space thing. But also…isn’t it a little lonely?” Her nose wrinkled like that wasn't the word she was looking for, but continued anyway. “I mean, I know your father’s house wasn't the most welcoming, but at night at least you knew there were other people in the house as well.”

Adrien hummed to some music only he could hear, moving them through a few steps before answering. “I get what you mean. I guess the thought doesn't really bother me. Yeah, some nights might be a little quiet but I'll have Plagg.” There was some sort of vague shout of agreement that came from the fridge, where Plagg was already pigging out on all the cheese they had bought at the store.

“And I like to think I'll have you around too.” Adrien whispered, shyly meeting his partner’s eyes at the suggestion.

Marinette melted, falling in a little closer. “Oh, mon chaton, of course I'll be around.”

Adrien sighed, nuzzling the top of her head. He was so glad to have his own place, so he could be free to do things like this. He savored having her close for a few minutes more before pulling away, going to get something out of a kitchen drawer while her curious eyes followed him.

“I was actually hoping you wouldn't mind taking this.” He said carefully, not sure how to word the proposal. He walked back over to her, taking her fingers and wrapping them around the small key.

She was silent, lips a little parted as she examined it carefully. “Oh, Adrien, I-”

“It's not a big deal, I just figured since you know, my apartment is centrally located in the city it's a good place to detransform and I thought it would only be right for you to have it. And in case you ever need anything, you know this is your home too. If you want it to be that is! I mean, I'm not asking you to move in, I know we're not ready for that yet, but I thought it was only right that you have it.”

Marinette's heart thumped at how he said yet, the curves of the key pressing into her palm as she gripped it tight. “I do.”

“You do?”

“Want this to be my home too. I do want that.” She breathed out, watching as his eyes warmed and his smile grew.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She laughed, feeling light all over, hugging Adrien close as he picked her up around her waist to spin them in a circle.

In that moment, Marinette couldn't help but think, no, maybe moving out wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

[naiadqueen]

The Light We Make

I’m so excited to finally post my piece for  @a-little-light-zine, a Miraculous Ladybug digital charity zine benefiting the victims of Hurricane Matthew. Orders are still open until Feb 1!

Also on ao3

Marinette wakes to the crisp smell of gingerbread cookies, and a smile spreads across her face. Without having to check her phone (which is still grasped in her hand from the night before), she already knows the date. It’s the 17th of December. It’s also a Saturday, the first day of the Christmas Vacation, and a week before Christmas Eve. But most importantly, it was the Dupain-Cheng’s annual Christmas Decorating Day.

She flings the sheets off her body (disrupting a slumbering Tikki) and rushes down the stairs, wild-haired and barefoot.

“Maman, Papa,” she sing-songs, “Good morn—“ She stops dead as she notices her parents sitting on the couch, with definite not-smiles on their faces.

“Is something wrong?” Her forehead creases with concern.

Tom Dupain sighs and looks at his daughter, apology in his eyes. “Désolé, Marinette. We can’t decorate today.”

“Why?” she whines, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Her good mood immediately dissolves.

Sabine Cheng twists in her seat and lays a comforting hand on Marinette’s arm. “We couldn’t find the lights in the cupboard, ma chérie. They must’ve gotten moved around when we renovated downstairs this summer.” Her reassurance does little to soothe Marinette’s disappointment. “We can check tonight after lock up, okay?”

“I guess…” Marinette smiles weakly at her parents, even as her heart falls.

“Okay then. Now why don’t you call Alya and see if she’s free today?”

Marinette glumly nods once and trudges back upstairs as her parents descend back down to the bakery to start their day.

But, two days later, Marinette sits, sulking, in a café with Alya and Myléne as they jabber on about the movie they just saw. She sighs into her gloved palm for the umpteenth time. The lights are yet to be located, and the bakery looks dull and depressing without the lights gracing its front, especially since it had started lightly snowing that morning. Next to the other buildings on her street, it is basically naked. She glares at the inferior lights winking at her through the window.

“Marinette!” Tikki’s voice comes in an earnest whisper. “You have a text!” Marinette looks down to see the kwami pushing her phone out of her bag. She takes the phone from her and reads the notification.

Maman: Found the lights! They were under the old curtains!

Marinette practically beams at the phone in her lap. She taps a message out onto the screen.

Marinette: Don’t start without me! On my way home now!

The bell over the door tinkles jollily as Marinette bursts into the bakery, startling a customer who was taking out his wallet.

“I’m home!”

Sabine, behind the counter, laughs. “I see you, Marinette. Let me ring this one up and we’ll close up for the day, okay? Your father’s upstairs.”

Marinette runs past the counter and up the stairs, dumping her bag by the door. “Papa!”

“In here, chérie!” Tom stands by a large brown box on the kitchen table. He chuckles at her eager expression. “Want to open it?” he asks his daughter. She nods, moving towards it, and almost reverently, pries open the flaps.

The lights, coiled around themselves, are coated in dust. Relics from Tom’s childhood, they have vintage-styled and oversized bulbs in a multitude of colours. When lit up, they shine bright and proud, and wash both bakery and home in a wonderful spectacle of jewel tones. The lights, paired with the promise of decadent Christmas treats, never fail to bring cheerful customers and tourists to the bakery.

Without another moment’s hesitation, she plunges a hand into the box, ready to begin the long-delayed decorating.

Instead, sharp pain shoots up her arm. “Ouch!” she hisses, yanking her hand back and cradling it to her chest. She stares at the pad of her index finger, where a long cut swells with scarlet.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tom yelps, grabbing her wrist and inspecting her finger. She winces at the sharp movement, and a bead of blood drips down to one flap of the box. “Come, lets clean the cut.” He leads her to the sink and she washes the finger while he rummages around for a first aid kit. Finding one, he gently applies antiseptic cream and a large plaster to the wound.

“What cut you?” Tom asks between Marinette’s whimpers of pain.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe glass?”

As her words register, the two look at each other and turn back to the box on the table and peer in. Nestled between lines of wiring are shards of colourful glass from several shattered bulbs, hidden underneath the top layer of unbroken lights.

“Oh, no!” Marinette bemoans as Sabine enters the room. “They’re broken!”

Sabine gasps and goes over to them. “What the matter?”

Marinette explains the condition of the lights, before Sabine clutches Marinette to her chest. “How horrible!” cries Sabine as Tom pats her back comfortingly. “Oh, I am so sorry, Marinette.” Over Sabine’s shoulder, Marinette can see Tikki hovering by the doorway, concern in her eyes.

Marinette gives her a subtle shake of her head and buries her head into her mother’s shirt. “I guess we just have to buy new ones then, huh?” she sighs.

After an awkward dinner, Marinette sits at her desk, textbook open in front of her, and tries to think about her holiday homework instead of those damned lights. She fails.

“Am I just picking up Chat Noir’s bad luck?” she blurts, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Is that it?”

Tikki rolls her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Marinette. That’s not how it works.”

Marinette frowns. “Are you sure?”

Tikki sighs and flies around to face Marinette, placing her little hands on her cheeks and staring into her eyes. “Marinette,” she says, voice stern, “what’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t understand, you’re new here,” Marinette huffs as she turns away, spinning in her chair. “It’s just… Every year, no matter how stressed or lonely I’d be, I could look forward to the Christmas holiday, because it meant I could be with the people I love most. A time where I could just be surrounded by love and joy, and not worry about the year ahead. And Decorating Day would always be the kickoff of the holidays, for as long as I can remember. A day that I just spend with my parents, and we’d just bond and laugh and talk; a day just for the three of us.” Her shoulders slump. “And while I know that things are different now, I can’t help feel that because this year’s Decorating Day was ruined, the whole of next year might be too.”

“Oh, Marinette.” Tikki’s voice takes on a softer tone. “You have to keep positive! Just because one day didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean that every day after that will. Life is unpredictable, but you have your family, your friends, and now Chat Noir and I by your side to help you when things get rough.”

Marinette considers her kwami before laughing lightly. “You’re right,” she admits, “of course.” She turns back to her book “Besides, we’ll go buy new lights; they can’t be all gone — my luck isn’t that bad, right?”

The Dupain-Cheng family gape incredulously at the bored-looking sales assistant in front of them. It is evening on the day before Christmas Eve, and it is the only time that the entire family has free, with Sabine and Tom caught up in the pre-Christmas rush and Marinette juggling shifts, present shopping, and her secret duties as Ladybug.

“’No more lights’?” Marinette squeaks in alarm. “Are you sure?”

“Um, yeah.” The assistant gives a slight shrug. “It’s the day before Christmas Eve. Everyone’s already done their shopping and decorating.”

“But are you sure-sure?”

“What my daughter means to ask,” Sabine cuts in, voice sweet as sugar, “is if could you please check the stockroom for us?”

“Yeah, whatever.” The assistant walks away, his grumbling about how it was almost the end of his shift loud enough for the trio to hear. In his short absence, they stand silence and wish for a miracle.

At the sound of his reapproaching footsteps on the linoleum, all three perk up with hopeful smiles on their faces. Slung under one arm is a white box, the amiable visage of Santa Claus printed on its side.

Unceremoniously, he hands it to them. “These were the only lights I could find.”

Marinette’s good mood is quick to wither. “Is that… a shirtless Santa?”

Sabine reads the box label. “‘Sexy Shirtless Santa Lights for all your Naughty List needs.’” She looks at the sales assistant in horror. “Why would you even stock this?”

“I don’t know, madame.” He shrugs again, his voice devoid of emotions. “Will you be purchasing this item?”

Tom coughs abruptly into his hand. “I don’t think so, no.” Placing his hands on Marinette’s shoulder, he ushers her towards the exit and gestures for Sabine to follow.

“Have a merry Christmas,” the assistant drones, and the automatic doors shut behind the Dupain-Chengs.

Marinette looks at her parents. “What do we do now?” she asks, even though she knows they don’t have an answer either.

Marinette doesn’t feel the excitement she normally has on Christmas Eve. Instead, she goes through her shift at the bakery lifelessly, barely registering anything over the regular customers asking where the lights this year are. Tom and Sabine are equally listless. When her shift ends, she trudges back to her room and flops, belly-first, onto the chaise lounge.

“Marinette.” Tikki parks herself on the cushioning by Marinette’s face. “It’s Christmas Eve! Cheer up.”

“No.” The chaise muffles Marinette’s voice. “I’m sad.”

“Well,” Tikki says, “what’re you going to do about it?”

Marinette jerks up to scowl at her kwami. “What do you mean, what am I going to do about…” she trails off as notices her box of discarded fashion projects. A grin stretches across her lips as an idea pops into her head. She meets Tikki’s eyes.

“I know what I’m going to do.”

“Marinette!” Sabine calls up the stairs, hours later. “It’s time to get ready for church!”

“I know! Just… come here!” Sabine and Tom exchange a look, both noticing that their daughter sounds more cheerful than she was earlier. Suspicious, they climb the stairs together and enter the house.

The curtains are drawn and the room is dark, save for light from half a dozen flashlights scattered around the room and pointing towards the middle of it, which stands empty as all the furniture has been pushed to the sides. Marinette, who is wearing a remarkable sweater covered in hastily glued on glitter, rhinestones and sequins, stands in the dark by the stairs. By her feet are two gift bags.

“Chérie, what is this?” Tom asks, befuddled.

“Close your eyes; you’ll see,” she says, tone cryptic.

Warily, her parents do so, hearing Marinette shuffle around, and only open them when she calls, “Okay, you can look!”

They open their eyes. Marinette stands proudly in the middle of room, the light of the flashlights bouncing off her sweater, and causing millions of slivers and fragments of colourful light to dance around the room. She spins once, the brilliance following her in a dizzying lightshow, and then giggles at their speechlessness.

“I thought that if we couldn’t put our old lights up,” she explains, “then maybe we could be our own lights this year. Check inside the bags.”

Her parents’ faces split into smiles as they dig into the giftbags and find old sweaters upgraded with sparkles. At their daughter’s insistence, they pull the sweaters on and join her in the center of the room. The light that was previously reflected is now intensified threefold, and the family is left in awe at the miniature stars and supernovas covering their living room. They become the center of their own galaxy, and, surrounded by the lights they made, Marinette hugs the two most important people in her life.

[seaweedbraens]

one gifset per episode :: miraculous ladybug

pixelator

[seaweedbraens]

one gifset per episode :: miraculous ladybug 

rogercop