thank you to @miraculousturtle for the beautiful fanfic <3<3<3 

Adrien Appreciation Week

A boy stumbles across a ring he wasn’t supposed to find.

And now he has his own agenda to fulfill as he wears his black suit in the middle of the night.

Freedom surges under his steps as he leaps from building to building, the seconds of freefall worth more than anything before starting over again.

Plagg is happy too, his little kwami. Adrien can feel it when they transform as Chat Noir that this is how things were supposed to be. A little bit of chaos, a little bit of good, but mostly doing everything without restraints.  

He extends his staff and catapults himself far into the air, arms out wide, and is as close to flying as he’ll ever be.

He hears the telltale sound of Ladybug’s yo-yo being pitch and grants himself as smile as she collides into him. Her strong arm wraps around his torso and she swings them to stop rooftop looking over the city.

“I didn’t realize we had reservations for a rooftop date, My Lady. I would have penciled you in,” Chat Noir says.

Paris glows with bright lights and feels odd still tonight like something could change if he blinks just right.

Ladybug comes to his side and the stand in silence for a few moments. “Thank you for rescuing me again, Chat,” she says. She presses her arm against him. “For someone who doesn’t want to be part of the good guys, you are always there when I need you.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but only if you really need me. You, Rena, and Carapace do a pretty good job. Besides if I’m a good guy I can’t do what I want.”

He feels like he’s on fire, the thin material between their suits the only thing keeping him from combusting. He loves it.

“Well, for one, I can’t break up weird underground gangs and also destroy things to bits, you know.”   

She laughs and it is magic. “You only like to obliterate things to get attention when you feel like the news isn’t talking about you. I know how you operate.”

Chat Noir gives himself this small moment and wraps his arm around Ladybug’s shoulder. Resting his head on hers, he feels her melt into his touch, automatically reaching up to hold him as closely too.

“In another lifetime, Bugaboo, I think we’d have made a great team.”

Her fingers curl into the leather near his shoulder blade. “We still can. Come join us and be with me.”

Warmth spreads through his chest and he chuckles. “Oh, you are really trying to be my undoing, aren’t you?”

“One of these days, Chat, you’ll be min--I mean, you’ll be part of the team. I just know it.”

Chat Noir rolls his eyes and by some force of the universe, somehow untangles him from Ladybug. She turns towards him, her fingers reaching out as if to keep this moment linger longer, and he doesn’t want to disappoint her.

Leaning down, he whispers in her ear. “I’m always yours. That you should know,” he says before dropping his mouth to press a quick peck on her cheek.

He bounds up onto the ledge and bows, not missing that her hand goes to the exact place he kissed moments ago. “Alas, dear Ladybug, this moment has to end. Freedom and fun wait for no one!”

With that, he leaps back into the Parisian night, smiling to himself as he hears Ladybug call his name.

Did anyone else notice that Chloe’s teddy bear has diamonds for eyes?

There are days like today when all the words I want to use aren’t meant for fiction, but for personal use. Each word building a sentence that creates an image centered around me rather than my characters. 

As it’s been said, we’re the main characters in our stories–in our lives and sometimes I want to live rather than describe living. 

There are moments when all I can think about the emotion that has long been buried under my breastbone, cracks my chest in two, finding freedom. With new breath, it snatches my day dreams, silly thoughts I have when I’m alone without pen, and gives them life. 

And as I walk on sidewalks, my fingers trailing over rough brick walls, I’m merging worlds of what is fictional and what is real. In such moments when I can taste sunshine on my skin and I can smell summer’s wind, my mind isn’t planning the next outline for my characters, but instead planning the next outline for my life. 

There are days like today when I wish all the words I have resting on my tongue can be used for fiction and for stories that I make up, but instead I find myself unable to detach from me to become them. 

Some days, I go on long walks to force realities to merge, but no matter how long I stand at the gate of imagination, it refuses to open up for me. And I can hear fiction dancing and laughing away, singing and teasing me from it’s side of line that I can’t cross that day.  

Some days, I don’t want to open the door when I hear my imagination knocking, pounding against the deadbolts. I can hear it begging and pleading for me to do something, anything to give it purpose. From my side of the door, I continue to ignore it, happy in my world, happy in reality where I can lose myself to something else. 

But on days like today, I’m stuck at a crossroad of wanting to write about characters and build worlds off a day dreams when I stared out windows, watching cars drive by and the wind tickle treetops and wanting to not write at all. All the words that I have aren’t interesting enough to capture people in my fantasy, not interesting enough to tell any story. 

On days like today, I feel lost and confused, unsure who I want to focus on, unsure what I want to focus on.

But at least I know that my story continues to be written as I don’t write anything at all. 

[Femslash February]: New Haircut

one day i won’t be a day behind on prompts. today is not that day. 

Day 6: New Haircut (Chlonette)

Words: 1888

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

[Previous: Stars]

“You promise you’re not going to fuck this up?”

Marinette held one of her combs in between her teeth while she stood behind Chloe and passed a leave-in through her damp hair. “Give me some credit, will you?”

“I’m just saying,” Chloe lectured as she stared at her reflection in her vanity mirror. “This isn’t like doing my nails or my makeup. You can’t undo this. And if you make me look like an idiot, I will skip breaking up with you and go straight to murdering you.”

“I cut Rose’s hair when she decided to go short. You do remember that, right? Plus I give Alix, Juleka, and Alya trims all the time.”

“Yeah but this is my hair. A higher degree of discretion and caution is automatically required.”

Marinette started to pull out any last tangles from Chloe’s hair and chuckled. “Do you want me to do this for you or not?”

Chloe puffed out her cheeks and groaned while Marinette chuckled at her expression. Chloe had been talking about cutting her hair short for months. Something about wanting to embrace the whole gay thing and get her stereotypical “lesbian pixie cut” so that she’d be able to stick out and not have to defend the fact that she was actually a lesbian. Apparently, her aesthetic seemed to throw people off and she told Marinette – and she was quoting here – “it was either the haircut or the flannels, and like fuck am I wearing flannels just so girls will talk to me.”

Marinette kept trying to tell her that the whole “lesbian aesthetic” thing was stereotypical crap and that she didn’t need to do anything to fit in or prove anything to anybody. Besides, she was dating Marinette already, and Marinette certainly had no complaints in regards to Chloe’s looks. Quite the opposite actually. Chloe seemed to have at least conceded that point to Marinette, but the appeal of a short cut still managed to stick. She kept talking about still wanting to do something different with her look before lycée started, and kept texting sample pictures to Marinette while insisting that she’d definitely be able to pull it off. 

So, when Marinette came over to Chloe’s house today for a sleepover, she impulsively proposed that they just cut her hair now and get it over with so that Chloe wouldn’t have time to talk herself out of it. 

Keep reading

oh no she’s gay

chloe hasn’t always known. she hasn’t always known that she likes girls as much as she likes boys. it starts when she’s saved by a superheroine in broad daylight. she’s held like the princess she’s meant to be and her heart pounds hard in her chest--

--and well, chloe hasn’t always known that she likes girls, but she finds out in one fatal swoop that she does. there’s no turning back. 

she learns that she likes pretty boys. boys that are soft, gentle, handsome. boys like adrien. it’s the same reason she doesn’t like kim. he’s too...rugged for her. attractive, yes--but. not what she’s looking for. 

her taste in women is completely different.

she likes them tough. loud. firey even. everything that marinette never used to be until like a switch she has a backbone and chloe is just...

wow

she realizes it in the way marinette smiles, the way her eyes and sky could be one and the same. she realizes it that she can get under her skin. which girl she’s referring to, she’s not sure. marinette unknowingly crawls under chloe’s skin with her charm and delightful laugh. chloe willing and purposefully claws to be underneath marinette’s. she likes to drive her crazy. 

she doesn’t know why.

well, she does. it’s because she likes girls and marinette is a girl and marinette is a girl that she happens to like.just second to ladybug because well--

chloe will always be in love with ladybug. 

and marinette and ladybug are sometimes so similar chloe feels like when she blinks she sees the same person, the same heroine that held her in her arms and refused to dropped her. the same wonderful person who saves her time and time again. 

and sometimes when she pretends, she says i love you to ladybug she actually means marinette and sometimes when she picks on marinette she wants ladybug to notice her and sometimes, sometimes, sometimes it’s hard to like girls as much as she likes boys because what if girls don’t like you back.

what if marinette/ladybug/girls don’t like her back.

sometimes...she thinks about it. but not now, because it doesn’t matter. 

marinette and chloe are stuck under an awning as the world pours outside and for once marinette/ladybug/this woman smiles at her

and well

chloe has always liked girls.

and she likes this one in particular. 

she might even love her.

(not that she’ll think on the matter.) 

Note to self: Draw more Nathanaël and Chloe

holy shiz. my weakness. please don’t mind me. 

paon learns that he and queen bee are not the sun and moon, creation and destruction or even yin and yang. they are made from the same element, from the same stuff and are instead, connected through their similarities rather than differences. 

they are...more like circulating currents in a battery, trees that take root in the earth, snow that melts into springs.

they are a vortex, that spins and spins and spins. a dance where they take every step in tandem, move from side to side and front to back.. 

she’s always on his right and he’s always on her left and they move at the same time to make the final strike. 

they grown from fury, charge forth in the world demanding justice and good things. there is peace in the silence they don’t have to break. 

there is no chase between them, both two figures built on taking. both built on obliterating. both walking the fine line between moral right and personal wrong. 

paon learns that he and queen bee are cut from the same cloth, something rough at the edges, something not perfectly clean. 

it’s enough for their beginning.