#oh yeah and alain made the cupcakes

[lavenderyulu]

‘‘You’re unusually clingy today~’‘

The first birthday art i actually post of my blorbos :)

oh and these birthday dates are just headcanons.

[zebrabaker]

Allegra, Claude, and Alain’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng Appreciation Blog; Part 1

Here’s part one, for those who missed it!

Allegra Clark was a huge fan of Ladybug. She adored the LadyBlog, solely for the fact that it reported the unbiased truth, and was run by a girl at her school. So, when the log had become no more than some petty shipping site for LadyNoir, she had bailed. There were plenty of other news sources, and with how many there were, at least one had to have an exclusive with Ladybug, right?

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Wrong. After several hours, she had realized that no one else in all of Paris had an exclusive. So, she was stuck. How did Alya get the interview anyway? Maybe it was mentioned in the video…She scrolled through the blogs archives, until she found the video. It opened on a dark room, before Alya appeared on screen.

“Hey there peeps! Alya here, with the best gift anyone has ever given me! My best friend, Marinette, got me- “Huh. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was in Bustier’s class, too. Now that she thought about it, the girl had regressed over the last month or so. Last year, she had been a shy girl, with no friends and no backbone to speak of. At the start of this school year, she had made friends with most of her class, or so it had seemed. The girl had really come out of her shell, and even became class rep. Lately, she had slid back into said shell, speaking less, wearing plainer clothes, less makeup, spending more time on her phone or sketching. Allegra had been in Marinette’s class last year, and the girl had been sweeter than all the baked goodies she brought in. Be it on a random Friday, or someone’s birthday, Marinette brought in something from her family’s patisserie. Allegra had an idea. She was a girl guide, and helping people was part of the code…. She had work to do.

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It had taken a few hours, but she had put together a full blog. She had found recordings of Marinette being mentioned by Jagged Stone and her Uncle, who was apparently a world-famous chef. The blog held a link to Marinette’s commission site (Allegra had submitted her measurements for a new dress. The girl’s designs were fantastic.) The title of the blog was ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng is amazing ‘. The background was a cherry blossom pink, and the header was the same Cherry Blossoms that Marinette used on all her designs, taken from her site. Her first post was an introduction to the blog, and an explanation of why it was built.

Hey guys! I’m mod Allegra, (I’ll introduce the others later.) and you’re likely confused as to why I made another page for some random girl. It’s a little complicated, but I’ll give you the short version. There’s this AMAZING girl at my school, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and lately she’s been really down. I was in her class last year, and she’s such a nice person that I can’t just watch her wither. So, this blog is dedicated to all things Marinette. She’s done so much cool stuff that I can’t possibly begin to list it all here. As such, I’ll be making one post of a cool thing she’s done once a week, every Wednesday after school. If you know of anything cool Marinette has done, send me an ask! I’ll verify the story (we’re not the LadyBlog, lol) and post it on here! Until then, spread this blog around! recommend it to friends, mention it in posts, just try to spread the word. See you Wednesday!

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“Allegra, Allain and Claude are here!” Her mom called down the hall. Allegra set aside her laptop, open to Marinette’s Facebook, Twitter, and Insta. Some may call it creepy, but she was determined to help the girl.

“Send them in!” She yelled back, stretching her back. There were two sets of footsteps in the hall, one light and quick, where the other was slow and steady.

“Sup?” Allain asked, strolling into the room. He was her oldest friend, having met at five in her mother’s beginners’ piano class. Allain was an African-French boy, his mother’s family immigrants from Morocco. He was dressed in his usual, a hoodie, jeans, a hat and headphones.

“Working on a project.” She sighed, snagging her water from her desk.

“Oooh! Can we see?” Claude asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. She had meet Claude in third grade. He had found her, hiding in the coat closet, scared of Chloe, who had insulted her and almost made her cry. He had made a few dumb jokes, and the two had become fast friends. He was a giant, pushing five ten at age fifteen. He wore a shirt from his soccer team and a pair of jeans and converse. His brown hair flopped into his eyes, making him look like an excitable puppy.

“Sure. Remember Marinette Dupain-Cheng, that girl in our class last year?” Both boys nodded, Allain blushing. He had had a bit of a crush on Marinette. “Well, I noticed yesterday that she’s kinda regressed. Just a few weeks ago, she was vibrant and happy. Now she’s like she was last year, quiet and withdrawn. I figured that I may as well help her. I was actually gonna ask, did either of you want to help me run it? I plan to upload some cool thing she’s done once a week.” Allain nodded, busy jotting something down in the pocket notebook he carried everywhere. Probably a story idea. Allain was a prolific writer, and always had some new idea. As a kid, he rocked at make-believe games.

“Why not! I remember Marinette, she brought in blue-velvet cupcakes on my birthday, because she heard me say I love the taste but hate red.” Claude flopped onto her bed so that he was splayed across it sideways. “And she brought in Hummingbird cake for Monsieur Darcy’s birthday. That was cool.” Allain looked up from his notes.

“Oh, yeah. Whenever any of us came into the bakery, her mom would give us something for free. Madam Cheng was so cool.” He licked his lips, as if recalling a particularly tasty treat.

“So, it’s settled, then? We’ll use the blog to help Marinette?” Allegra glanced between her friends, giddy.

“Sure.” Allain shrugged.

“Why not.” Claude bounced on the bed a little.