Yet Another Fanfic I Have Up On AO3 After Marinette Reveals Her Secret Identity To Cat Noir, Shell Soon

Yet another fanfic I have up on AO3 😁 After Marinette reveals her secret identity to Cat Noir, she’ll soon realize that hard choices come with irreversible consequences (this one covers a lot of darker themes)

[One-Shot of Adrienette up on AO3!] During a school project, Adrien accidentally records Marinette confessing her feelings about him.

The Love Square as lyrics from TTPD songs: Fortnight

Adrienette: For a fortnight there, we were forever

Marichat: I touched you for only a fortnight

Ladynoir: I love you, it’s ruining my life

Ladrien: I took the miracle move on drug, the effects were temporary

*i tried to be as accurate as possible*

adrien’s never been used to a lot of noise in the first place.

when he goes over to marinette’s place for the first time; its almost scary how differently they live. where he lacks, she always picks up. she fills in the silence when he doesn’t feel like talking and even more so when he cant. bouncing legs, pencils on paper, the rhythmic clicking of her sewing machine, background music because she can’t focus without it—adrien’s never been used to something other than silence. marinette makes music by just being alive. whenever they’re apart (which is never), they face time, and he listens to her hum while she sews him a jacket they worked on the design for together. full of spikes. she pricks her fingers constantly, and he’s always the one to bandage her up if he’s there (she’s too focused to stop). he walks around his empty house and feels less alone with her in his hand, even if its just on the phone. phones are made for talking, though, aren’t they? marinette never makes him feel like he has to. on bad days, neither of them have to. others, she sits him down and does his makeup. listens when he does talk. or offers to give him a piercing in which he inevitably agrees to because of course he’d let her stab him with a needle. he’d let her do anything, really. marinette’s just fine holding the eyeliner. or a needle. or his pinky finger while they walk. she hasn’t gotten used to the hand holding-thing yet.

“omg you’re so creative. how do you get your ideas” i hallucinate a single scene in the taco bell drive thru and then spend 13 months trying to write it