miraculous life || miraculous ladybug [slight au]

012

A/N: I don't like making these very much, but I'm going to bring up something important.

I have gotten some messages about this story, a majority demanding more than asking that I hurry into the canon story line. That I'm taking too long with getting there. I absolutely adore my Squishes (which is you guys btw), but I'm going to be frank.

If you want to rush a plot, then go make it yourself. All of these 'little pointless side stories' are to show character development and Marianne's adaption to her life as Marinette. 

So NO.

I will not hurry up, because this is my story, and I'm going to give you details instead of throwing in new talents out of no where without explanation. I'm going to take you through the first fourteen years of Marinette's life, and sure, some are just completely side stories, but there's always a development lowkey or highkey in there.

So please. Bare with me, I will get there eventually.

Thank you, enjoy this side story with LOWKEY CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. 

-Squishy Leyva

Weirdly enough, I spent my time in daycare more with Nathaniel because of his quietness. He didn't speak out much, normally just colored in the coloring books- and he was one of those few kids who could stay inside the lines.

That's a feat in itself at this age.

So, I stuck myself at his table most of the time when I was able to, reading quietly, listening to him color, the click of a crayon being set down, and the slide of one being moved on the table as he picks another up.

It's nice.

Sure, there are usually kids screaming and crying while we're at our table, but it doesn't matter. It's just us in our quiet bubble.

Until, finally, I felt a tap on my shoulder, making me turn away from my book and to the red head next to me.

"Yes?" I questioned, waiting patiently as he squirmed for a few seconds under my gaze. He took a sheet out from under the table, sliding it over to me.

"For you..." he mumbled, going back to his coloring. I stared at him for a but longer, then tore my gaze away and to the paper, blinking.

It was me.

Well, a child's rendition of what looked like me, of course. If I remember, Nathaniel becomes a great artist, cut he's obviously not going to be amazing right off the bat.

Although, it was better than most of the kids' in here.

So, it was a drawing of me, sitting in my chair, at the table, reading a book. But what I noticed was that he seemed to try really hard on my eyes. For what reason, I'm not sure.

I turned my head to him again, "Nathaniel," he looked up, nervous. I smiled, "Thank you."

He smiled back, nodded his head, then again went back to coloring.

Sliding the paper off the table, I placed it carefully in my 'take-home-folder' and inside my backpack.

Kids can be cute...sometimes.

-

I take my words back.

My eye twitched, watching as Miss Aime's kids ran around the room, screaming and dancing. Said teacher of the class had  to leave the room as another teacher needed help with something. She smiled at me, and said, "You can take care of them, right?"

She left shortly after because I told her to leave it to me.

Because I'm whipped.

Okay, I thought, climbing on to the desk, a notebook in hand. I'm not taking this shit anymore.

"HEY!" I yelled, making them stop to look at me, on top of their teacher's desk, eyes narrowed at them. "Listen here, you little shits," mouths dropped open, "I'm in charge here, whether you like it or not. And since I'm in charge, I'm telling you to sit your asses down before I stop playing nice."

It was silent before a girl laughed obnoxiously, "You're only five, we're seven. Just because you're using bad words doesn't mean you're the boss of us."

"Wrong." I grabbed the apple I had brought for Miss Aime from the desk and chucked it at the girl, who screamed as she barely dodged it. "You're teacher said I was the boss of you, and I'd like to stay as her favorite, thanks," I sneered.

"W'we're gonna t-tell on you!" A boy stammered, pointing his grubby finger at me.

"Okay," I shrugged, "but if you tattle on me, I'll tattle on you." I hold up my notebook, "In here I've written all the little secrets everyone thinks no one knows, but I do. Because I've sat in this chair," pointing to Miss Aime's chair, "and I've watched you idiots for months. So, if you don't sit down, and stay to yourselves, I will start reading off all of your secrets. One. By. One."

The girl from before, who I remember as Angelina, scoffed, "Whatever," before she turned to her friends. "I want that beanbag, so move."

Sitting down at the edge of the desk, I crossed my legs, and started flipping through my notebook. 

"Angelina," I said out loud, as if reading a story book, "stole Maggie's doll when she brought it to school and spread the rumor that Elena did it." I started, making Angelina's mouth drop, and Maggie stood, infuriated, screeching.

"WHAT?!"

"She also filled Max's shoes with sand because she was mad that he had stepped on her new shoes."

Max whirled around, "It was you?!"

"N-no! She's lying!"

"The only liars here in this room is you all," I held up my notebook. "and I have a majority of your lies in here, from all of you. All your little secrets, in the palm on my hand, and I can read them, but you can't, because they're in Chinese."

"That's not fair! You're cheating!" Felix stood  from his chair, pointing at me in an accusing matter.

"Boo-hoo," I drawled, "life isn't fair." If only they knew how true those words were for me. "I'm going to ask you again, to get your asses in your chairs, and actually do your work."

Thirty minutes later, Miss Aime rushes in, out of breath. "Sorry that took so long! Oh, everyone's behaving so well, I'm so happy you all listened to Marinette!" she smiled, looking at her students. Some glanced over at me, and I gave my best 'if you tell her, I'll kill you' look.

Needless to say, I'd make an awesome teacher.

Just maybe not for seven year old kids.