joonapeach

[joonapeach]

Our Tales are Endless (That's Why I Tell Them) [MLB]

summary: Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It's a life she thinks she has always fit in.

And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can't help but wonder if there's something else she's missing.

also reposted on ao3

The man is here again and, Marinette notes, he's holding a tulip to his chest today. She can only laugh when she sees him standing outside the glass door of the boutique, looking like a lost stray waiting for an invitation to come in. When he meets her amused gaze, he quickly feigns confidence and gives a charming smile.

She rolls her eyes.

"The boutique is so busy," is the first thing he says when he comes to her at the counter. "For you, my lady," is always the second, with the flower of the day in an extended offering.

Marinette narrows her eyes at the pink petals of the single tulip. She scoffs but takes it from him with no hesitation, of course - the attention she’s been getting from him every few days is both flattering and entertaining in her scheduled life. But to his face, she simply says, "this again?"

"Of course. I picked it out especially for today."

"Really? And why is that?" Marinette asks. There's a smile playing on her lips.

He gives a smile right back. "Tulips symbolize unconditional love. I thought it'd be perfect for you today."

Marinette almost cocks an eyebrow, impressed. He's finally gotten a bit smoother with his lines - usually, she'd have to watch him stumble over meanings and words before adorably offering the flower of the day.

"I'm not ready for you to tell me you love me so early in the morning, Adrien."

He grins boyishly as if expecting that very response. "Oh, but it has nothing to do with me. Isn’t it your maman’s birthday today? The flower symbolizes your unconditional love for her,” he pauses. “But of course, if your first thought is of me with an unconditional love, I can’t complain-”

“Using my maman’s birthday as an excuse to give a flower of unconditional love… don’t think I can’t see right through you, Agreste.”

 “Guilty. But I should remind you.”

“I think I can go a few days without forgetting your professions of love,” Marinette giggles as she carefully sorts through some clothes on a rack.

“There’s no telling with you. You forgot I was your classmate for four years,” he states, leaning over the counter. “Until Alya showed you the yearbooks, you were certain you’d never seen me in your life before.”

“I told you, I was sorry about that!” Marinette huffs. The incident of meeting Adrien for the first time at twenty-five still baffles her. When she laid her eyes on him at Alya’s house party, he’d quickly imprinted in her mind like the image of a beautiful angel and she was certain she’d never seen such a handsome sight before.

Only, apparently, she had. Though no matter how much she strained her mind, she could never recall a single thing about him from her school days.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” Adrien laughs. “I don’t think I’m memorable enough.”

Marinette narrows her eyes at the boy. At times, she didn’t know if he was being solely modest or oblivious.

“Don’t you have a class to teach today?” she decides to ask.

He nods, lazily watching her organize dresses with his head in his palm. “I did. But they canceled it because of some gas leak by the Chemistry students.”

“That’s hardly fair. Your poor Physics students have to suffer a canceled class all because of someone else’s inconvenience?”

“Yup. Well, that’s just the way Paris is. Someone else’s minor inconvenience ruining everyone’s day,” he laughs before giving a furtive glance. “Back when we were in school, our classes were canceled every other day too.”

Marinette sighs, trying to conjure a memory in her head. Flashes come, of a classroom, of sitting next to Alya, of shouting at Chloe, of hanging out with Alix and Rose and Nino… but that's where it stops. Sometimes, Marinette thinks she’s really going crazy. If she tries hard enough, she can remember those years of her life between fourteen and twenty four but it never comes easy. It’s almost like a watercolor blur that passes by her eyes too fast to focus on a still image.

“Because of those… akumas, right?” she mumbles. 

“Yup,” Adrien answers. His eyes don’t leave her face when she pauses to recall small details. He’s always patient with her, unlike even Alya who sometimes gets tired of waiting for Marinette to catch up when she talks about old stories.

“How did we get anything done?” Marinette laughs, shaking her head.

“I have no idea either,” Adrien chuckles. “Those were some crazy few years of our lives.”

“Our lives? What about those poor superheroes you talk about every day? I can’t bear to think about how exhausting it must’ve been for them.”

Adrien laughs. “They enjoyed it, I’m sure of it.” He glances at his watch. “Come on, it’s your lunch break soon.”

“Adrien, there are still customers!” Marinette protests, glancing around the shop. Young women roam the small space, eagerly eyeing Marinette’s designs with awe. Marinette’s part-timer, Noelle, rushes between them to make sure they’re all satisfied. While she has it under control, Marinette still gets a thrill from watching customers secretly dote over her clothes.

Her life’s work exists in this little boutique, after all. She knows little outside of fabric and fashion but this world of hers is big enough to sink into forever. Though she sleeps elsewhere, this shop is where she feels like home is. She gets to watch Paris from her counter and be a small piece of the city.

“Noelle’s handling it,” Adrien argues with a pout. “I’ll buy you something nice! I can still use my model status and get us in that restaurant we were talking about last week.”

“You just can’t let go of your teenage model career,” Marinette sighs, putting down a hanger. “I hope you don’t bring it up to your students.”

“They bring it up to me first, actually,” he retorts. “And you know, you were a big fan of my modeling career back in the day.”

“Now I just know you’re trying to plant memories in my head,” Marinette cocks her head back to laugh. She grabs her purse from the counter and gives a quick wave to Noelle. “It won’t work, Adrien.”

“I’m being serious!” he whines, following after her as she walks to the glass door of the shop. “You had my posters!”

“Adrien, my memory isn’t that bad. I did nothing of that sort,” she shakes her head with a laugh. The two step out into the streets of Paris and instantly, their voices become small in the big city’s noise. Marinette smiles.

“This is so unfair,” Adrien grumbles under his breath. His steps slow down to match her pace and he pouts like a child. Marinette fights back a smile at how adorably familiar it feels. She’s really only known him for only a few months though, at moments like these, it wasn’t hard to believe she grew up next to him.

“Don’t sulk, come on,” she pinches his elbow through his dress shirt. “You can tell me one of your superhero stories now.”

Instantly, he brightens. “Aha! I knew you liked hearing them.”

“You’re a good storyteller, I’ll give that to you,” she says. “I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir would appreciate a die-hard fan like you carrying on their legacy like this. Except for the parts when you try to tell me they were in love. Somehow, that seems a little off.”

“I’m not lying! I’m certain they were,” he declares.

“Yeah, yeah, get on with it now.”

Adrien clears his throat dramatically and starts a new story. He takes care every time he visits her to never tell repeats. He tells the tales with flair and energy, a big smile on his face at the parts where she laughs and rolls her eyes. Marinette should be used to it by now, the company of this handsome teacher who becomes reduced to a goofy boy when he talks about his love for a bunch of superheroes.

But alas, she still hasn’t gotten used to it. In her routine of a perfect life, Adrien brings something new and makes Marinette wonder about the Paris she loves so dearly. Her Paris is small, peaceful, and beloved but in Adrien’s words, Paris becomes infinite.

Such is the power of stories, she supposes.

*

“What happened here?!” is what Adrien exclaims first when he sees Marinette after a week. “And this is for you, my lady,” he adds, holding a single violet between his fingertips.

“All sold out,” Marinette laughs in disbelief before plucking the flower from his grasp. “And what’s this?’

“All sold out?! How on Earth?” he blinks before glancing at the flower. “Oh and, it symbolizes modesty. For the most modest, talented designer I know.”

Marinette rolls her eyes. Normally, she rejects such heavy praise. Her shop is tiny and she’s a sole designer working at her own pace with small goals that she doesn’t try to see bigger than. But today, she feels almost worthy to hear such words.

Her shop is empty. Not just of people but clothes too. Not a single piece remains on the rack.

“Some celebrity wore an item of mine and fans and press came flooding in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people in the shop.”

Adrien’s eyes are bright. “Marinette, that’s amazing!”

She chuckles. “I know. I sold what I usually sell in weeks all in a morning,” she grins. “But it was also a bit scary. I mean, I’ve never had so many eyes on me.”

“Well, you should,” he retorts instantly. “You’re a born star. I think all of Paris would be in love with you if they knew you.”

“You’re a good talker, Adrien,” Marinette laughs. “Today’s my treat, by the way. Since there’s nothing to do till I get new pieces from the manufacturers, the shop is going to have to be closed and I’m thinking of taking the weekend off to stay with my parents.”

“You’ll be gone?” he frowns.

“For a weekend at most, don’t worry!” Marinette rolls her eyes. “That’s why I’m giving you my day. We can go anywhere and you can talk my ear off about anything you like.”

The mischievous smile Adrien gives only slightly alarms her. “Are you really giving me full reign over your life?”

“Something about the way you look makes me hesitant to comply,” she says with narrowed eyes. “But since I’ll be unavailable for a few days, I have no choice.”

Adrien continues grinning, seemingly bursting with energy with how he jumps up and down. “Great. I’m thinking shopping, walk by Seine, dinner, ice cream from Andre’s and ending the night by the tower.”

Marinette finds herself amused by the enthusiasm. Despite being twenty six, the same as her, Adrien always holds onto some kind of youthful zest to himself. Marinette can’t find herself getting enough of it, even when she has to always be the rational one when his vigor takes too far.

How does someone with such a colorful life like spending hours out of his convenience with someone like her? Marinette feels as though she pales in comparison to the interesting things she could tell him. There is only so much someone can hear about fabrics and a bakery-life youth.

“Marinette?” Adrien waves his hand in front of her face with a boyish smile. “We’re already behind schedule by like three items. Let’s go.”

She can shelve her thoughts about her boring life for later. If Adrien hasn’t complained yet about the quality of her companionship, she needn't worry about a problem that wasn’t confirmed. She remembers spending much of her teenage years doing that – about what problems she wasn’t sure – but she didn’t need a repeat.

“I already went ahead and invited Alya and Nino by the way,” he adds as they push out the door. The bell chimes and Marinette locks up. “I think they’re with some people already but I said we’ll join.”

“Sounds good to me,” Marinette says with a smile as they walk out. Her arm finds itself linking around Adrien’s in a swift motion, though Marinette doesn’t remember consenting to her body wanting to do that. Adrien says nothing and Marinette remarks again how natural it feels for her to be so comfortable around him. At times, she thinks her instincts know something she doesn’t. 

*

Adrien’s loud laugh mixes with Alya’s as the two put down a card. The table erupts into a groan. Juleka, beside Marinette, is especially disappointed.

“What happened to the truce?” she says, crossing her arms in a sulk.

“There’s no truce in Uno when it comes to these two,” Marinette sighs though she can’t beat the smile tugging at her cheeks. The two winners fight no urge in showing off their victory, with roaring laughters and smug comments. The sight should really upset Marinette more, rubbing salt into her loss, but she finds herself enjoying how gleefully the two celebrate. 

“You two should be banned from pairing,” Max heaves a long sigh as he puts his and Rose’s cards down defeatedly.

“Adrien’s the only one who gets the game,” Alya retorts with a high five angled his way. Adrien’s movements are slow as he raises his arm to reciprocate her gesture, a sure sign that the alcohol of the night was hitting him. Marinette quite likes the way Adrien is when he’s had a little to drink or when he’s around others. He’s unlike the man who appears in her shop, far more lax and unfocused on his words.

It’s a strange sight that even Marinette finds hard to explain to herself. There’s always a noticeable difference between the gentle, patient Adrien Marinette finds herself with and the easy-going, laid-back Adrien around friends from school or anyone who isn’t Marinette. It’s not something she’s worked up the courage to ask him about, but at times like these, it’s something that makes her wonder.

“You were never this mischievous in school, Adrien!” Rose says chirpily. Adrien laughs, rubbing the nape of his neck. The tie around his collar’s been loosened up throughout the night and his shirt sleeves are pulled back to his elbows. Marinette hasn’t gotten in the habit of seeing him with his teacher uniform so relaxed. Even when he visits her store, he’s always in pristine condition. She assumed it was his model upbringing.

But he looks different now, and she can’t stop staring at him. His smile is lazy, his hair’s been brushed through so many times by his fingers that it’s sweeping all over his face. The sight gives Marinette’s stomach a sinking feeling she can’t quite place.

“He’s become a whole new person since then,” Max grins. “Shed the model past behind.”

Admittedly, Marinette has searched up said model's past. A strong shudder of shock passed through her as she familiarized herself with eighteen year old Adrien Agreste. At that moment, she finally understood what Alya had meant about Marinette, how could you forget Adrien? 

Because really, how could she forget Adrien? How can she not remember sharing a space with a boy like this for years on end in school? It’s hard matching the young model to the man she was friends with today and at the most inconvenient of moments, Marinette finds her brain reminding her of that. She finds his flirtatious smiles from magazine covers appearing in her mind, his humble interviews repeating in her ears, his beautiful photoshoots plastered to her brain. 

“Wouldn’t suit a school teacher to pursue modeling forever,” Adrien simply answers with a shrug. Marinette doesn’t remember Adrien well, but she knows him well to know a practiced nonchalance behind the answer. Because Adrien Agreste didn’t just stop modeling to spare the hearts of young girls in Paris - he stopped modeling because he didn’t have to anymore.

With the death of his father came the death of his brand. And as per Alya’s recounts, with the death of his father came the last time many of them saw Adrien again for many years.

Marinette coughs in an attempt to divert attention. “Let’s stick to topics I remember,” she says teasingly and the others instantly burst into loud conversation. 

“Marinette, you must be faking it,” one of them says. 

Another interrupts with, “you really remember everyone but Adrien?!”

“That’s not true. She doesn’t remember some other memories too,” Alya corrects. “Marinette, do you remember the time we went to the wax museum in school?” Marinette shakes her head. “See!”

“Forget Adrien!” Nino interjects with animated surprise. “Marinette, I can’t believe you just woke up one day and forgot all about Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

At the mention of them, Marinette finds herself glancing at Adrien. It’s a natural response, really, given that he can’t ever stop talking about them, so much so that Marinette associates the two latex-wearing superheroes with him. But when Marinette’s eyes meet Adrien’s, she sees a strange wistful smile. 

He’s looking at her, but not really. His eyes are glazing right over her, as if he’s looking through her. Marinette is tempted to turn around as if behind her, she’ll find what’s pulling Adrien’s gaze. 

“Alya’s life was Ladybug too,” Juleka points out. “Up until the defeat of Hawkmoth, of course.”

Hawkmoth. The name sounds almost childish to Marinette each time she hears it, but to the others, it delivers chills. There’s a lifetime of worry attached to the name, much of which Marinette can hardly recall. That’s the gift of forgetting… she’s forgotten not only memories, but nightmares. 

The table becomes suddenly tense and Marinette feels partly responsible for driving the conversation to it. “I can’t remember them. But they sound great,” she tries to offer. 

It does little for anyone. “Oh, they were great. I miss Ladybug,” Alya sighs and slumps over a glass. “And I miss being a kid. It was the best part of my life, running after her. I was so passionate about reporting then.”

“I know what you mean,” Rose mumbles. “Life was so exciting even when I was scared… it just felt different especially when Ladybug was around. Did I tell you guys about the time I got the Pig Miraculous?”

“Yes, Rose!” A simultaneous answer comes from the table. Marinette is the only one to remain silent.

“We grew up so fast. I never imagined we would one day,” says Juleka. “Everyday was just getting by and saving each other.”

“There were a few close calls,” Nino points out. 

“A few’s putting it lightly,” Alya laughs. “I didn’t think I was going to graduate school without a day of peace. That, and seeing Marinette show up to anything on time.”

“I didn’t think I was going to graduate without Max finally trying to give up on his robots,” Nino snorts. “I need some money for the therapy I’m taking because of your failed robots threatening my life, by the way.”

“Well now, how much do you need?” Max pretends to sift through his wallet.

“Rob him well, Nino. Mr. Software Engineer’s got all the money we need,” Adrien laughs before having his neck wrapped with Alya’s forearm.

“Oh, yeah? This coming from France's highest paid model back in school?!” she scoffs. “You couldn’t spare a note then!”

“Hey! I didn’t control my money then.”

“No, but I did see you buy Nino a whole PlayStation for his birthday!”

“Alya dude, he missed my birthday! It was a forgiveness present! Ask Max… right, Max?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“Max!”

“You didn’t defend me in front of Damocles when we broke the beaker in class!”

“You know perfectly well Alya got you on camera. There was no point in me or Adrien defending anyone!”

“Damn you Alya, and your reporter instinct.”

Marinette can’t describe the feeling that passes through her now, only that she hopes no one else ever has to feel it. All her best friends are here, and yet, they’re not. Or maybe, that’s not it. All her best friends are here, and she’s the one who’s not with them. 

There’s not a word she can bring herself to say that might make sense in their conversation. Everyone’s talking fast, exchanging anecdotes and inside jokes too quick for her to catch on and she can’t follow a single thing. This is her life and these are supposed to be her people.

But they aren’t at times like these. On occasions like this one, Marinette’s a floating body in Paris, belonging nowhere and everywhere all at once. Her mind’s left the cafe and it’s circling in the night sky, looking over pedestrians and cars, trying to find something hidden. Her eyes are peering into the streets and curves of the city. She’s listening to the sounds of what it means to jump in the sky at night, and she’s searching for something. 

Nowhere feels right in this city at all. No crevice of this place feels like home sometimes. Her shop is the safest haven, but even on the worst of nights, Marinette feels some itching urge inside her to burst through that door too and keep running.

What am I looking for? What’s out there for me?

“Marinette?” Her name arrives to her in a soft whisper and Marinette is jolted back to this moment. The cafe, the table, the smell of alcohol and the loud conversation.

She blinks. Adrien is peering at her with concern, a deep-set line decorating the space between his brows now. She hates to think of his worry being from her and quickly gives a smile.

“Are you alright?” he says.

She nods. “Just got stuffy there for a second.” 

His voice reduces to only being audible to her. “We can leave early, if you’d like.”

A rejection is already at the tip of Marinette’s tongue. Everyone was having so much fun, laughing and reminiscing, looking back on the youth they had. It isn’t fair for her to spoil that just because she couldn’t remember growing up as well as they did.

But a second glance at all her friends kills the rejection. The longer she stays here, the easier it’d be for her head to slip away somewhere else. She doesn’t want to be somewhere else right now. She wants to be here.

“Okay.”

That’s all it takes Adrien to give a comforting smile and get up from the table. Everyone protests, unwilling to part from him but he gives them a charming grin and promises to catch up again. Marinette doesn’t miss the way that everyone seems less enthusiastic about not wanting her to go, instead bidding her with a soft goodbye and pleas to take care. 

It makes her feel like no one understands what’s going on in her head at all. But when Adrien grabs her wrist and leaves for the door, Marinette feels slightly less alone.

*

“A daisy for you, my lady,” Adrien holds the plucked flower between his fingers. 

“Adrien! You just stole that from the flower shop!”

He grins with glee, sparing only a short look behind him to the closing shop. “They’ll hardly miss a single daisy!” he says before bursting into laughter. “Imagine if they do though. That’d be funny. A missing poster with this little guy!”

His steps are all over the place, his hair tangling itself by the second and Marinette fights a smile. “Hey Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you’re drunk, right?” she giggles. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize how drunk you were back at the cafe.”

Adrien’s arm wraps around a street lamp and he swings around it in a rather dramatic fashion. Marinette pauses and waits for him to finish, though she can’t deny she enjoys watching how smooth his movements are, despite being drunk. She thinks he’s going to fall each time from one messy step and yet, he always catches himself. 

How does a high school Physics teacher find himself with reflexes like that? 

“I’m not drunk. Only slightly tipsy, like every good Parisian out there,” he grins before tipping his head forward. “You’re not accepting my flower! Accept my flower, my lady.”

Everything Adrien does resembles something of a movie – one of the black and white ones, with rain and umbrellas and piano music. That’s what Marinette thinks when she looks at him now. It feels as though Marinette can take a few steps back and put him on a screen to watch him forever.

“How can I?” she smiles. “You didn’t tell me what it means.”

“Daisy… uh, daisy…” he stumbles. “I didn't prepare this one!”

Marinette laughs. “Are you sure that’s even a daisy?”

Adrien sighs. “I’m no good. I should return this to the shop. They’re probably looking for it.”

He lets go of the street lamp and swiftly jumps over a puddle on the ground. Marinette quickly reaches for his hand before he can maneuver himself any further. “Wait! I want it!”

“Really?”

“Of course,” she nods and reaches for his fingers. “I’m keeping it.”

Adrien blinks, staring at the missing flower in his hand. “What do you do with them?” he asks. “The flowers I give you.”

“I keep them safe. Don’t worry,” Marinette says. She intends to say more but a blinding light in the sky suddenly appears and trips her from composure. It peeks through the gaps of buildings and above their rooftops. 

“Oh. The Eiffel Tower lights,” Adrien mutters softly. Marinette glances up and sees the upper half of the triangle structure blink with fluttering white lights. They decorate the sky with a kind of magic Marinette isn’t used to seeing. After dusk, she’s usually back home or tucked away in her bed, not out prancing about in Paris.

Safe to say, the sight mesmerizes her. 

“So pretty,” she breathes out. Momentarily, she hears peace in her head. She feels her wandering mind of the night stop and pause here, to watch the lights. “Does this really happen every night?”

“Yes,” Adrien answers. “You don’t remember?”

She hates this question. She’s heard it so often now that she hates it so much. It taints every new wonder of her life for her. It taints the memory of gazing at Adrien for the first time and feeling bewitched. It taints her small, everyday thoughts about whether the top of Paris buildings really are that dirty or how it feels to fall from a height. For every wonder she voices aloud, she receives this as her answer.

“Remember what?” Marinette responds like clockwork.

Adrien shrugs. “Ah… I don’t know. Sorry. I don’t know what I expected you to remember,” he says. “You must hate this question.”

I do. “Did I see these lights a lot before when I was younger?”

Adrien’s expression seems to be caught between confusion and hesitation. “Yeah. Almost every night,” he says. “You loved them. You’d always try to get the best view.”

“Did I watch them with you?” Marinette frowns.

“Sometimes,” he nods with a smile. “I would be too busy looking at you when you did though.”

The words send a flush to Marinette’s cheeks. She tries to imagine her younger self with… Adrien’s younger self, and that makes matters worse. Model Adrien Agreste.

Her feelings towards Adrien don’t add up all the time but she understands this – both her, and her younger self, share a deep appreciation for the beauty that is this man. It makes Marinette shiver to her spine to think of how beautiful he must’ve looked when they stared at the Eiffel Tower together before. She wishes, more than anything, that she could remember how he did. 

“Why are you making that face?” Adrien says and cocks a brow.

“What face?”

“That- that one! Right there.”

Marinette quickly wipes any expression she can imagine off. She looks at him with a rehearsed coolness. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adrien’s lips slowly curl into a grin before breaking into laughter. “You would do things like that back in school, you know?” he continues laughing with a wispy look in his eyes. “The very same expressions. I can never figure out what they mean.”

Marinette smiles as if she holds a clandestine secret to herself. “Nevermind that,” she says before turning back to the tower. “Tell me about the times we watched the lights together.”

Adrien pauses, humming in deliberation. “I’ll tell you something more interesting. One time, Ladybug and Chat Noir were up against this akumatized villain who was this thief who wanted to steal the Eiffel Tower.”

“Isn't that from a movie?”

“That guy wanted to steal a moon, Marinette!” Adrien answers, exasperated as Marinette laughs. “Anyway, he just wanted more than anything to have the Eiffel Tower all to himself. I assume he had his heart broken or broke some action figure, or something or the other. Who knows with these akumatized villains?”

“Hey, be nice to them! It wasn’t their fault.”

“Yeah, yeah. So he had this bag as his super power and he could just… stuff things into them! Imagine. He’d put the pouch by a building and it’d be sucked in, like a little souvenir. He was making his way to the Eiffel Tower, bit by bit, while stopping at every landmark on the way to suck it into his pouch.”

“What did he get?”

“Well, he managed to get the Arc de Triomphe, half of the shops on Champs Elysee, and get this – he was about to suck up all the Seine!”

Marinette gasps. “How could he do that?”

“He was trying to get the water out! At the last second, Ladybug pulled him out of there but the water overflowed the sidewalks,” he sighs. “But because of that, she wasn’t able to hold onto him. She sank with these waves of the river that started streaming down the path ways.”

Marinette’s eyes are big now. “He got away?!”

“Yep. The man bounced back easily and ran. He was on his way to the tower now, since he knew he wouldn’t have her on his tail – pun intended.”

“Where was Chat Noir in all this?”

“Well, he was waiting at the Eiffel Tower! You see, Ladybug and him had a plan. Chat Noir was going to cataclysm the tower to distract our villain so Ladybug would be able to capture him. But, that didn’t quite work. So instead, Chat Noir improvised,” Adrien takes a dramatic pause. Marinette knows he quite enjoys her investment in his stories, but doesn’t hide her anticipation. “The villain came running towards the bottom of the tower. Chat Noir saw him at the last second, and that magic pouch was opening. The tower was already slowly starting to suck into it…”

Marinette blinks early. "What?! So what did he do next? Did Chat Noir cataclysm the tower onto the city?!"

Adrien grins, satisfied by her reaction. "Nope. Even better. Ladybug appeared at that very second and quickly decided that she’d wrap her yo-yo around the Eiffel Tower before climbing it-"

"She climbed it?!" Marinette's mouth gapes wide open. "But that's so dangerous!"

"Well, she was used to that kind of thing. Don't you think you'd climb a tower if it risked the lives of civilians?"

At this, Marinette bursts out laughing. "I'm sure there's hundreds of people in Paris who'll climb a building, Adrien, but not me. Don't you see how clumsy I am?" she shook her head in amusement. "I would never do that kind of thing."

Adrien doesn't respond for a few beats too long and when Marinette turns to look at him, she catches a glimpse of pain. She blinks, quickly to capture the sight, but when she looks again, he's looking at her normally. The flash of his expression still disturbs her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he smiles, almost too quickly for Marinette to be convinced. "I was just suddenly thinking about work."

“Sobering up now?” she laughs. “Come on, finish the story!”

He takes a breath and continues, “yeah. It turned out his pouch was already so full from water and everything else that when Ladybug tugged on the tower with her yo-yo, it bounced him back on the ground. He ended up being caught.”

“That’s an anti-climatic ending!” Marinette remarks, though she’ll admit, she loved the story from start to end. “You lost your energy there.”

“Sorry. I remembered something I had to do for the students next week,” he says, rubbing his eyes with two fingers. His shoulders slump down as if it’s hard to even hold himself up now and his voice is low.

Marinette nods in understanding. "Ah... work. You know, I still don't understand why you're a Physics teacher. Don't you think you'd be great as a storyteller? With how creative and passionate you are about these old superheroes."

Adrien shrugs. "I don't know. Sometimes people don't end up doing what they're supposed to. I once knew a girl who wanted to save the world forever. Now, I don't know if that's something she's even thought twice about."

Marinette hums. "Well, saving the world forever sounds like a big commitment," she says. "Is she at least happy now with what she changed to do?"

When Marinette meets Adrien's eyes, he's already looking at her. It's one of those looks, the ones he gives when he thinks she isn't looking, where he only stares and stares straight at her as if searching for something. She wonders what it is he's looking so intently for. She doesn't know if she has the answers to any of the questions for the universe he's carrying with him.

"Yeah," Adrien finally answers. The smallest of smiles tugs at his lips but Marinette knows the look hasn't dissipated from his eyes. He's still somewhere far away from her, in his thoughts and burdens. But still, he lets her know he's with her by squeezing her hand. "I think she is."

*

Marinette’s childhood bedroom has remained unchanged since the day she moved out – a blessing, now that she hardly remembers what it was like to live here.

It’s through her childhood bedroom that Marinette rediscovers herself. Her last few visits have told her that she went to a lot of places with her friends back in school – from New York, to Shanghai, to London – and that she had a lot of packaged men’s items in gift wrapping and also that she used to really like a spotted red and black pattern in fashion. 

Of course, none of these things make sense to Marinette now. She takes in each fact and story about her younger self as if someone would take in stories of a stranger. But it nevertheless is fascinating to discover who she was. 

There are things that remain the same, and those are what give Marinette the most solace. She can see designs her teenage self did for a clothing boutique, a dream she always had. She can see drawings of baked goods, and collectible little toys, and bits and bobs of fabric stuffed into drawers. She laughs when she finds more evidence of how always design-obsessed she was. These aren’t memories she can’t recall but it’s fun to remember either way.

“Marinette,” her mother’s voice comes from below the bedroom floor panel. “Is that you?!”

“Yes, maman!”

Her parents' beaming faces pop up through the ground. Marinette can easily picture the same sight, just ten years younger. It seems that not only has her room remained unchanged but her parents too. 

This place is frozen in time, unmoving from who she was as a child. That’s what Alya always says – that everyone’s lives have changed, and the world has spun around completely, and yet in a little bakery by the corner of their old school, a piece of the past remains.

“Surprise!” Marinette grins.

“Oh honey. We weren’t expecting you,” her father says, pushing himself up to the floor. When he envelopes her into a hug, she’s hit with the smell of dough. It smells like home. 

“Well… the shop’s sold out!” she bursts into excitement. “I gave Noelle the days off while I re-design and I can restock.”

Her parents squeal higher than her. They clap their hands like children and give the most delighted of smiles. “Marinette! That’s incredible!”

“This calls for some fresh biscuits, coming right to you,” her father winks. “Our sold out designer needs some sugar for her redesigning!”

“That’d be great, actually,” Marinette smiles. 

“I cleaned out some of your things from the storage by the way. They’re all on the desk,” her mom adds. “Go through it when you have the time.”

“Already started on it!” Marinette nods and pushes back to her desk in the wheely chair. Her main goal is to leave this room with fresh new designs but everything she’s come up with so far on this desk only appears to her like a rehashed version of all that she’s sold. Her parents wish her luck and pop down to the bakery, leaving her to work.

Marinette spends hours on that childhood desk, though she finds nothing reasonable in any of her drafting. Being a designer and small business owner is a lot less like she imagined it to be when she sat on this table as a teen, she’s sure. Back then, designing clothes was just one of Marinette’s many activities of the day and she would find inspiration as she lived her life.

Now that designing clothes is all that Marinette has to do in her day, she has nothing else she can escape to. A hobby turned into a full-time career is a dream, but it isn’t so easy. It isn’t small bursts of inspiration and a fun activity. It’s long hours and creative slumps and the biggest part of who she is.

She sighs. “I’m getting nowhere,” she scribbles all over the paper she spent the last half hour on. This isn’t Marinette’s first creative block, though it is her most frustrating one yet. There’s nothing she can find to pick apart in her mind to put to the page or seek a spark from. 

Sometimes, when she tries really hard, she feels like she catches a string of inspiration. But when she tugs on that, it breaks apart. Something stops it from ever reaching her, like a block of hard metal wood or the force of the Earth in her brain. 

It’s like something is stopping me from digging deeper.

She wishes she could just give up and take a break – but she can’t do that now, not when it’s her job to churn out designs. Whether or not she wants to, she will have something by the end of today. 

It takes a few more attempts of back and forth for her to give up entirely for the night. Her wrist is aching, her eyes blurry and her head aches. I can’t do this, she groans as her head hits the desk. Beside her, in careful piles are folders and files that her mother had dug out from the storage of the apartment.

Her finger traces each one carefully. Some she recognizes, others are like unfamiliar memorabilia. The sight of so many collected books and folders from the years reminds her to dig out her current notebook. Her hand fishes through her handbag in haste, searching for something, while her other hand opens up to a page.

“Found it,” she mumbles as she fetches the plastic bag out. Inside, carefully wrapped in tissue is the daisy from last night. She removes it with practiced precision and gently presses it to the page, where dozens of flowers have been flattened and glued. “A new one to the collection,” she mutters with a soft smile.

She closes the book, ready to put it with the rest of her items. A sketchbook towards the bottom of the pile catches her attention, one that she’s never seen before. 

“My old sketchbook?” she wonders as her fingers reach for it, sandwiched between other items. A sudden curiosity comes to her and she imagines a gold mine of designs from her younger self inside the book. She wouldn’t plagiarize from her teenage imagination, of course not… but it wouldn’t hurt to look there for inspiration, would it?

The sketchbook has a black rim and white spots decorate the pink cover. Marinette unclasps the lock on the cover and opens up to the first page – a drawing of her old school.

“Wow,” she mutters to herself. It feels strange to look back at something that had once upon a time been a daily view for her. Each day seems long and yet, when Marinette turns around to see how much life she’s lived, it’s as though the time has sped by in a blink.

Carefully, she flips through the pages. There’s drawings of baked goods and animals, sketches of her friends, more spotted black and red patterns and she even finds some dresses. She gawks at each design in awe. She can’t even remember putting her pencil to paper to come up with these.

There’s dresses with flowy skirts, ones with corset tops, a few experimental designs with all sorts of cuts and fitting. No one design is the same. Anything Marinette’s put to the page reveals a new idea, as if she was just brimming with them. I was so creative.

Her eyes pause on them as if she’s reading the design. How could she come up with this? Usually, creatives should find their past work mediocre and their most present creations as masterpieces. Marinette sees the opposite. Her past work shows a life lived, a masterpiece skilled in experimenting and innovation. She almost feels ashamed for what she’s selling now – bland designs that can hardly compare.

I should try something like this again, she thinks to herself at each design. She picks out the parts she likes most, thinking of how to bring them to her most current designs. Her fingers keep flipping through the book, desperate to find more and more of her old work. Her hands freeze as the designs stop appearing from a certain page.

“What is this?” she murmurs, scanning through the next few pages. There’s no more designs now. It’s all the same thing over and over again. She bursts out laughing.

There are doodles of a boy dressed in all black. He crouches on balconies and hangs from railings in backgrounds of a dark night’s sky. The only colors on the pages that he appears on are the green of his eyes, and the gold of the bell around his neck. 

Marinette frowns. This character is unfamiliar to her, and doesn’t appear in any of the earlier pages of her sketchbook. Though, from the moment he’s on one page, it seems as though every page is now about him.

“Who are you?” Marinette’s eyes narrow. On one page, she finally sees it.

Sitting atop messy blonde hair are two… ears? They poke out like horns and Marinette peers at the peculiar sight. A long belt wraps around the boy’s legs.

Oh. You’re a cat.

Her eyes can’t get enough of the drawings. Each one is carefully drawn and colored in, some with watercolor paint while other with color pencils. The settings of each are different too. She’s drawn him sitting with a sunset, laying atop the Eiffel Tower, posing on a bridge.

In some, Marinette’s drawn him with a smile, and in others, he’s focused and looks out away. It isn’t till she comes across a drawing of him fighting a monster that Marinette realizes who has been filling her childhood sketchbook.

“Chat Noir?” she calls out, as if this mysterious superhero would answer from the pages. Her voice shakes and her hand trembles as she flips the page. This time, air sharply leaves her lungs in a gasp.

Chat Noir is sitting on the balcony outside Marinette’s room, his legs comfortably sprawled on the ledge. His eyes glint with mischief and Marinette can tell the care with which this image was drawn. She rubs her finger and feels the page worn out, as if she’d drawn over and over and erased a hundred times to get this particular mouth correct. 

“So this is what you look like,” Marinette whispers to herself. She’s searched his photos up many times, though each time she looked away, his face would disappear from her mind instantly. Trying to hold onto him was like trying to hold onto a gust of wind. She would think she had it and it would be gone in an instant.

And so, each time she looks at Chat Noir, it’s like looking at him for the first time. Though, seeing Chat Noir in her notebooks feels oddly different to seeing photos of him on the Internet. The drawings imprint in her mind and Marinette wonders… why did she draw him so much?

Where did these images of him come from to her? Marinette knows herself and she knows she’s never enjoyed drawing people that much, always opting more for scenery and faceless figures wearing designs. There’s always something about trying to capture someone’s eyes, the curve of their lips, the shape of their nose, that Marinette finds too tedious. It takes too much love and attention to put someone to page.

But Chat Noir is on her pages, and not just a few times. He fills a book of pages.

Marinette gulps and her head spins as though she’s jumping up and down in her room. Did she imagine this boy on her balcony? Or was she drawing from memory?

No, it couldn’t be from memory. This is surely all Marinette’s imagination… Why would a superhero from her childhood be sitting on her balcony? 

“Ah,” she exhales in a breath. “My head is killing me.”

She pushes the notebook away and climbs to her bed. Each movement feels like it’s taking an eon, like her body is battling an invisible force against her. It takes only a few seconds for her to fall asleep after that and remember nothing from the rest of the night.

But when she wakes in the morning, she is certain that she remembers wishing that Chat Noir were still here, prancing around the city, so that she could see him again. 

*

“What’s got you so distracted today?” is the first thing Adrien says the next week, followed by “a sunflower, for how much I adore you.”

“I’m not distracted,” Marinette blinks through a haze. Her hand is lingering on a hanger and she’s incredibly slow this morning. It’s the worst morning for her to not be in top shape, considering she has boxes of items from the manufacturers to put on the shelves. 

Adrien glances around. “Where’s Noelle?”

“I told her to take a break and come back later. I didn’t feel well enough to unbox all this,” Marinette sighs. She reaches for the sunflower and holds the stem carefully. “Thank you.”

“Are you sick? Too much sugar with the Dupain-Chengs?”

She laughs. “I’m sure you’re jealous.”

“Oh, I am. You get to go home and visit a bakery,” Adrien scoffs. “Some of us have it too good in life.”

“Adrien, you were a teen model.”

“Irrelevant,” he rolls his eyes. “So, you’re sick?”

“No, silly,” Marinette laughs at Adrien feigning a dramatic covering of his mouth. “I’m perfectly fine. The weekend was great and my parents… well, you know they are.”

“Force-feeding the most delicious things ever?” Adrien drops his head. “Sorry to hear about that.”

Marinette hums with a smile, turning back to the hanger on the shelf. She’s not being entirely honest though, not with herself nor with Adrien. The weekend was great but it was not without some strange revelation that has shaken up Marinette’s life.

It shouldn’t matter now what Marinette was as a child – what things she drew, what things she had interest in. It’s been years since she was that young for it to really matter.

And yet, when Marinette finds herself losing herself in some task, she’s jolted back to thinking about it like a sharp zap to her body. She sees the drawing come to life in her mind, each time a little bit more real than the last. It’s becoming hard to tell how much of the image she’s seeing is from the drawings and how much of it is becoming a reality… a memory of sorts.

Even now, as she’s away from her purse at the shop counter, her fingers are itching to go back. She wants to rip open her purse, pull out the sketchbook and flip through the drawings again. Bewitched is the word she could use to describe herself right now.

Adrien begins talking about his day and how work went for him. Marinette can only half listen, coherently understanding snippets of the stories while nodding through whatever she couldn’t. She thinks she’s doing a pretty good job at fooling him till he finally says, “Marinette, you’re not listening, are you?”

“Hm? What? I am!”

Adrien smiles, almost pitifully. “Was your weekend really okay?”

Marinette presses her lips. “It was… fine. I don’t really have that many new designs and I feel like a failure because going back home made me realize that… my work was so much better before?” she says. “I was so creative, I had so much life and I was pulling ideas out of everywhere. Coming to terms with that is a bit hard. That and…” she pauses.

“And?”

She plasters a smile. “And realizing some strange things about my childhood self,” she says in a light tone. She wants to tell Adrien, but she needs him to make it easier for her.

“Oh really?” Adrien grins. “Like your obsessive crush on me?”

“Not quite… I think- I think I had a crush on Chat Noir when I was a teenager,” she says, quickly forcing a laugh to make the words feel easy. “I can’t remember anything about liking him but… yeah. Teenage me had a thing for black cats and leather jumpsuits. Who would’ve thought, right?”

Marinette says every word with an air of nonchalance, as if learning the very existence of this love she had for a boy she never remembered meeting was something of a joke. It’s not. It’s been tearing at her all night and all morning but she can’t bring herself to tell Adrien how serious it is.

When she looks at him, it doesn’t look like she has to.

Adrien’s pale and unmoving. She almost wonders if she’d said something completely different by his solemn expression.

“Adrien, what’s wrong?”

He swallows, glancing around the shop. “What… what made you think that? That you liked Chat Noir?”

She can see through the forced smile he’s giving and she wonders if he can see through her forced casualness. “Well… I found some old sketchbooks. I haven’t found any inspiration for designs lately so I thought I’d try to see what stuff I used to like and… he was all over the pages,” she laughs. “Every few pages, I used to sketch him. Sitting on rooftops, hanging off the Eiffel Tower, even on the balcony of my parents’ bakery.”

“You drew him?” his eyes narrow, almost accusingly. “You hate drawing people.”

Marinette can say nothing to say that. She gives a resigned shrug and exhales a chuckle. Speaking the words out loud has not made anything easier. If anything, they seem to make things worse… Adrien isn’t taking the news so well.

His hands tremble, his eyes alternate between a wide stare and rapid blinking. Marinette even notices his lip quiver, a strange reaction to what she considers to be a laughable story for others. If Alya had been the one Marinette told this to, she’s sure her friend would mock her for eternity. In fact, that’s how she expected anyone of her friends to take to the reveal.

Adrien is an outlier. His response heightens the caving feeling of Marinette’s lungs. 

“It’s not a big deal,” she lies. “He was a celebrity. I’m sure I’m not the only one who had an embarrassing celebrity crush on a boy I never spoke a word to.”

Those aren’t the correct words to say, Marinette instantly realizes. Adrien winces and his hands tighten into fists. Marinette isn’t sure if she’s imagining it, but Adrien seems further away now. He’s taking a few steps back. 

“I have to leave,” his words come out in a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Adrien-”

He doesn’t wait to hear it. When the bell above the door rings after he paces out, away from her, Marinette is left alone in the shop to wonder what just happened in a few moments alone. Now, with not another soul nor even a single dress in the empty shop, Marinette feels as though her being here is wrong. For the first time, she thinks this is not where she should be at all. 

*

The taste of the air on the ground is different to the taste of the air up in the sky.

Down on the ground, when you run, your lungs pant and desperately try to catch something to breathe. Up above, on building rooftops and floating through the sky, the air is neverending. You never have to fight for a moment to breathe.

This is why Adrien has always preferred being above to on the ground. For when he was Chat Noir, he never had this aching feeling tearing his body apart as he ran away from anything. No, being Chat Noir was freeing. Being Chat Noir was a dream.

As he runs now, pain throbs at his chest and Adrien can’t breathe. His greatest wish is to be Chat Noir again, just to stop how unpleasant it is to run from Marinette. But he can’t do that. It’s been years since he’s seen the world through the eyes of Chat Noir, and the world has seen Chat Noir.

His human body has limitations and he falls to the dirty ground of Paris, feeling his palms collide with the pavement. He cries out loudly, screeching in pain as he can’t find it in himself to run further away. Few onlookers on the street watch Adrien with great interest.

His existence has always felt like a jail. When he was younger, he was gawked at and probed, as his father’s prodigy. Adrien didn’t have a single ounce of himself just for himself. His one salvation came through a life as Chat Noir, but even that was not without its imprisonment. He was to remain under a mask, never revealing his true self, even when it could kill him to do so. Even when his father had to die at his own hands, he could take off the mask.

And when he finally could, he discovered that living without the mask was not the rescue he was hoping for. So much time had elapsed since Adrien had become Chat Noir, so much of his life’s experiences and self invested in Chat Noir, that he could not be one without the other. 

Of course, there was a way to make this easier, once. There was someone who could get him through understanding how to live.

But there’s no one now. Adrien is without family, without Plagg, without Ladybug.

“Adrien?” a worried voice cries out. “Oh my God, Adrien!”

Adrien sees a paper bag of items drop to the ground. His head is cradled by someone but Adrien sees a blurry image of the person holding him. The face blends together like watercolor but his eyes are drawn to the ears. Red and black spotted earrings.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Noelle.”

Her face comes to his vision. Noelle’s hair falls over his face and she quickly tucks it behind her ear. The earrings stand out on her like a bright color on a blank canvas. When Adrien saw Ladybug wear them, they never seemed to draw his attention but with Noelle, he supposes it’s her blonde hair that makes them pop out. Whenever he teases her about it, she protests and promises that she will be sure to dye her hair once her mother allows and she’s an adult.

“Adrien,” she frowns in concern. Her hand wraps around his shoulder and helps him rise from the ground. She looks at him with so much worry but all Adrien can focus on are the red earrings that remind him of his suffering. "Did you have a bad day again?"

There are no words, Adrien thinks, in any language that can come close to explaining the pain in his chest. The pain of falling so irrevocably in love with someone and having them snatched so fiercely out of your hands that it burns where you once touched them and it stings when you see them smile. There is no pain to compare to this. Losing his Ladybug isn't like losing a friend or a family member. It feels like a part of Adrien is no longer with him.

"Noelle," he cries. "Noelle."

He feels her hand press lightly against his neck. This scene is nothing new to her, and so she is able to listen to him sob and never judge him for it. While there’s no one who can understand Adrien’s pain, she is the only one who can listen to it.

"It'll never be the same again," he mumbles. “She will never remember me.”

“I know, Adrien. I know,” she says soothingly. “But that doesn’t mean your relationship now is any less special.”

Adrien shakes with his tears. She’s said this countless times but it never helps, despite her best efforts. She’s been kind enough to tell him to be patient and to make his best with the situation, but Adrien is feeling his resolve slip away day by day.

“Ladybugs get to live a life of luck and fortune,” he says. “And the black cats are doomed to misery wherever they go.”

Noelle shakes her head. “That’s not true.”

Adrien gives her a desolate look. “It is,” he says. “Marinette forgot me and one day, you will forget me too. Then, I’ll go to the guardian after you to console me, and she’ll forget me too. And once she forgets me, it’ll only be a matter of time till there’s someone new who too will toss me aside.”

Noelle says nothing. Her hand doesn’t cease to stop stroking Adrien’s hair, despite her lip quivering. She’s so young, only a few years older than him when he started this job, and she’s already been introduced to the pain that magic can cause. Adrien wishes he could take it all away. More times than not, he’s been tempted.

He’s been tempted to crush his ring into those earrings and wish for it to end. The world could continue, only without his suffering. He didn’t deserve to be the only one here fated to live an imprisoned life of misery.

But those thoughts are the reason he no longer wears his ring. Instead, his ring is kept safe away from him with Noelle, and Adrien is forced to continue this trivial existence.  

“Ladybugs get to live a life of luck and fortune,” he repeats quietly. “And the black cats are doomed to misery wherever they go.”

*

It’s a while until Marinette sees Adrien again.

On the days he’s not here, she gets close to crazy, calling all their friends to ask about him, leaving him messages, walking by flower shops to see him. 

The sinking feeling that started the moment he left her shop has not ended. It’s spiraling and Marinette is falling deeper and deeper into some kind of existential dread. The nights are impossible to find sleep in because Marinette’s body feels agitated by some kind of forgotten task.

Her shop hardly provides her the comfort she needs anymore. On her strangest moments, she feels the urge to burst and run out, climb a building, fly through the city. Delusions overtake her on her weakest moments.

Adrien arrives outside as Marinette is closing her shop. She sees him stand outside the door and he looks straight back at her, but never enters. Finally, she comes outside, hearing the bell of her door chime as she locks the door.

She speaks first today. “I was starting to think you’d never come again.”

Adrien doesn’t look… like Adrien. Sunken circles have set below his eyes, he’s missed a few days of shaving and his hair is messy. “I’m sorry I ran out that day,” he says and offers the flower of the day – a lily. “For you.”

She takes the flower, mumbling a thank you but she can’t draw her eyes away from him. “Adrien, what happened to you?”

“I… I got a bit overwhelmed. I’m sorry,” he mutters before signaling to the street. “I can walk you home?”

Marinette gives a weak smile. “I feel like I should be walking you home.”

At that, he laughs and Marinette feels like ease has returned to her in a simple second. Ever since he disappeared, so much of her had gone with him – even in the small exchanges they had everyday, Marinette thinks that Adrien has some hold on a part of her. 

It’s always been that way, she realizes. In the parts of her life that she can’t remember, she’s been told by every one of her friends that she’s always loved Adrien. That when he would have a new shoot, she would be the most excited. That when he lost his dad, she was the first to cry on his behalf. That when he was gone for some time, she hurt more than anything.

Those feelings are numb now, mostly because Marinette can’t even remember herself doing any of those things. But it doesn’t matter… because in this life she lives that she can remember, she still loves Adrien. 

“Is everything okay?” she asks as they begin walking. He doesn’t even ask before taking her bags from her hand to carry them.

The words he wants to say don’t come out instantly. He hesitates for a while, glancing at her back and forth. Eventually, he speaks. “I want to tell you a story.”

“Hm?” Marinette’s stomach sinks. She doesn’t really want to hear about Chat Noir, not right now. “Another Ladybug story?”

“No. It’s not,” he begins. “There was a boy once, and he lived in the most beautiful castle in the land. There were painted windows, big rooms, and all sorts of entertainment inside this castle. Anything you want could be found inside. But still, this boy wasn’t happy.”

Marinette listens, though it’s the last thing she wants to do right now. “Why?”

“Well, he could never get out! Because everything he needed or wanted was inside, his father never thought he needed to leave the castle. His school could come to this home, his playground could be there, friends – if he did make any – could come over. Why would he need to go outside?”

Marinette frowns. “To live?”

Adrien nods sharply. “Exactly. The boy, despite everything he had, still wanted to leave to live. Curiosity is such a cunning thing and it can change lives. So the boy, driven by this curiosity, kept searching for ways to leave. Nothing really worked, he was still under heavy control and surveillance but one day… he found a way to leave. It appeared like a miracle.”

“What was it?”

“Something he never expected. It was a ring. But not just any ring… this ring came with a powerful friend, one that could turn him into something else that could leap through windows and climb buildings. It was magic.”

Marinette blinks. The strange feeling in her worsens.

“And, as he had it, once he started to get out, so did something else. There were fire-breathing dragons and overgrown crocodiles and sorcerous magicians all about the land. Outside was nothing like the boy imagined and yet…” Adrien pauses. “He liked it. Outside was not safe, or clean, or even pretty to look at but it had a charm. He even met someone like him on the outside.”

“A girl?” Marinette gave a chuckle.

Adrien smiles. “The most beautiful and brave girl there was out there. She also had a powerful friend, you see, but she had earrings – not a ring. When she had those on, she could swing between tall buildings and conjure things out of thin air. When she had those red and black spot earrings on, there was nothing she couldn’t do.”

“Red and black spotted?” her words were barely above a whisper.

Adrien watches her carefully. “Yes. Together, the boy and girl decided they’d become a team. They would restore everything to peace, until there was nothing left to fix. When that day would come, they would rest but until then, they would keep fighting. Everyone loved them dearly.”

“And it was a happy ending,” Marinette mumbles. A discomfort is traveling through her body, swirling around in her stomach, pumping her veins, heating her neck. 

“Oh no. Not at all,” Adrien says. “A happy ending for everyone who got to enjoy the safety and peace the boy and girl brought, but for the boy and girl, it was a terrible ending. They spent years sacrificing their life, because someone had to do it and the world chose them, but the reward they reaped were punishments. For the boy… well, all the evil dragons and crocodiles and magicians that were being sent to the land were from his father.”

Marinette’s winces and her gaze pivots to Adrien. “What?” 

He stares at her, unmoving. “He had been fighting his father all these years. Even as a boy or even as something else, it was always his father. And so, while the world rejoiced that the terrible man was gone, the boy was left an orphan but he could never grieve. This was the punishment for the rest of his life.”

“Why does he need to be punished?” Marinette argues, heat flashing across her cheeks. “He was the good guy!”

“That’s just the way the story goes,” Adrien shrugs. “As for the girl… she became sick after a while. She had stopped being a girl and only became something else, all to keep fighting, and while she grew as the land’s savior, she never got to be that girl again. And so, she ended up forgetting that she was the savior, in hopes to live as a girl again.”

“She forgot she saved everyone?” Marinette says slowly.

“Yes. And that was her punishment… or maybe it was really a reward? It’s hard to tell,” Adrien says. “She lived as a girl again and forgot all that she did. A part of her life is gone.” Adrien looks at Marinette intently, with a question hidden behind a casual smile. “What do you think, Marinette? Is it a punishment, or a reward?” 

Marinette stumbles, unsure of how to answer. “I don’t… I don’t know. She didn’t get to live out the reward she really deserved so it’s a punishment but… maybe it isn’t. I don’t know,” she swallows, turning to walk again. “Is that the end of the story? If so, I hate it.”

Adrien laughs. “It isn’t the happiest one I’ve told, I know. The boy and girl, after everything, didn’t get the happiness they should’ve gotten… but the people loved them. They didn’t know a thing of this despairful ending the boy and girl got, but they loved their story. That out of a hopeless place emerged two of the most incredible miracles the land had seen,” he says. “So they told this story over and over again, to anyone who would listen. They promised to tell their kids and write it down in history books, pay homage through statues and remember the fights. Today, they call it the tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Marinette stops in her tracks. She looks at Adrien with contempt and laughs, “so it was another Ladybug and Chat Noir story. You lied.”

He shakes his head and his smile is caught somewhere between peace and sorrow. “No. It wasn’t. This story was about that boy and girl, the ones who had to become Ladybug and Chat Noir. But they were people too, and this was a story about them.”

She shrugs. “Is it not the same?”

“Do you really think so?” he asks. “You don’t think that the boy and girl from this story sound completely unalike the other stories I told you?”

Marinette hardly understands the message Adrien is trying to make, just that whenever she thinks too deeply about Chat Noir, her body begins to ache with an intensity she can’t bring herself to understand. “They do. I feel very sorry for them.”

Adrien only nods. “I’m sure they’re making do. With whatever life they have now.”

“After giving it all up to fighting,” Marinette mumbles. “Are they still living?”

“They are,” he confirms. “They’re humans after all. That’s what we’re all made to do. You live, no matter what you’re faced with, no matter if it feels wrong to. Even if a life feels incomplete, you live it, don’t you?”

His words spread an uncomfortable pounding across her mind. Did she mention that to Adrien? She doesn’t remember telling Adrien anything about feeling something amiss from time to time, feeling out of her environment, despite being in her own home. 

A painful tug is starting now, at the back of her neck. It’s as though Marinette’s body is failing on her, the more she stays on the ground now. What is she straining her body so deeply with that she feels this way?

“I’m sure they’ll find happiness. We’re all bound to,” Marinette makes herself say through the discomfort.

“I wonder about that too,” he answers. “A lot more than I can admit. I’m always thinking about it.”

“And? What have you deduced from that thinking?”

“Well, that if it’s something I care about so much that I can’t exist without thinking about it, then I need to know. For my sake.”

It’s starting to feel like there is something climbing up Marinette’s spine, on the back of her neck. She slips her fingers behind her shirt, feeling around but nothing is there. The crawling feeling changes to a sting. Her own body is malfunctioning on her.

“So?” she breathes out.

Adrien’s hand reaches out and wraps around Marinette’s. Thankful for the warmth of another person, Marinette clings on and squeezes as she rests her weight on him.

“Have you found happiness, Marinette?”

Marinette frowns and smiles in confusion. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Are you happy? Do you feel like everything is right now, with the way it is?”

Marinette blinks. “I… Adrien, you are still drunk, aren’t you?” she laughs. “You’re confusing me today. On another day, I would love this but I’m… not feeling well today,” she says before reaching up to gently brush the hair on his nape. The world spins for a second when she does and Marinette feels as though she’s becoming delirious by each passing second. When she looks at Adrien, it almost feels like she’s looking at something out of a page of her sketchbook. 

“Are you happy?” he mutters. 

Marinette holds tightly onto him. “I am happy you’re okay, Adrien. It was unbearable for me when you weren’t around and I really thought you didn’t want to see me anymore, because I was boring or… weird, or something. I don’t know. But thank you. For coming back to me. If I am happy, it’s because of you.”

This is the closest they’ve ever been, the most forward Marinette has ever been able to find herself while speaking to him. She doesn’t know what makes her do it, but she doesn’t need to know. 

They stand in silence for a long while and Adrien smiles. He repeats her name over again, barely a whisper and Marinette isn’t sure what to make of the moment – only that it feels like something she should remember. Or rather, it feels like there is something to remember for this moment.

“Marinette,” he says, suddenly serious. “The people in my stories. They're us."

In the busy street of Paris, Marinette feels her heart stop briefly, for a slow moment. It’s as though something heavy pulls her chest and she's worried she'll sink to the ground if she doesn't force herself to breathe.

She's ready to laugh, a snarky response prepared on her tongue for Adrien but when she looks at him, she stills. His eyes aren't bright and flirtatious, like the eyes of the boy who brings her a flower every morning or offers a love confession at every corner but... they look like the eyes of someone who's hurting.

Though he hides it, Marinette sees him hesitate, as if there's so much more he wants to say. But she's still stuck, thinking about his eyes. Was Adrien always in so much pain around her? She'd never even noticed.

She takes a step back, and the ache returns sharply. “What are you saying?”

Adrien pleads with his eyes and Marinette feels almost afraid at the desperation his gaze speaks. “I’m the boy who is still grieving, Marinette,” he whispers. “And you are the girl trying to live as a girl again.”

He buries his head in his hands and Marinette watches as the most confident and cool man she knows turns into something else entirely.

“Adrien, what are you–” a cry of pain fills the street. It takes Marinette a second to realize it came from her as her ears ring and a sharp stab feels like it’s delivered to her head.

“Marinette?” Adrien grabs her in concern. “You’re hurting… oh my God, you’re hurting,” he mutters in disbelief. “You’re trying to remember. Tikki told me it can be like this-”

“Adrien, you’re spewing nonsense,” Marinette barks out. She doesn’t mean to sound so harsh but her body feels as though it’s at war with herself. What kind of sickness is this?

He shakes his head. “No, I’m- I’m sorry,” he holds onto Marinette tightly to stop her from falling.

Marinette can’t explain what’s going through her. Immense pain works itself through her, in the form of sadness. An aching despair fills Marinette’s stomach and images drift through her mind, memories she doesn’t remember ever experiencing.

My mind is playing tricks on me.

She sees Adrien’s face under the rain, his hand holding out an umbrella. She tastes the wind of the sky hit her as she swings through a city. She hears a high pitched voice, begging for sweet treats from inside her purse. She smells the city burning, unlike any terror she’s ever seen in Paris. She speaks the words… spots on.

It’s all so scary and so… frightening. Marinette is paralyzing with shock in each moment that passes.

“Adrien,” Marinette cries out. “What is happening?”

Adrien looks petrified as he clings to Marinette. She’s never seen him so distressed. “Your mind is trying to fight,” his voice comes to Marinette like a sound hidden in loud background noise. “Marinette, please be careful-”

She isn’t sure what he says next. She remembers nothing of anything, only that her body spun as she lost control and collapsed.

*

“Hey kitty,” she starts off that night. “You think the city still needs us?”

His eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“Well… it’s been a few years that we’ve been out of school and stopped Hawkmoth,” she says, not missing the way Chat still winces at the mention of their old enemy. “Apart from regular day pickpocketing and the occasional crime, there’s not much for us to do anymore.”

Chat pauses. “Yeah but… aren’t Ladybug and Chat Noir meant to be forever?”

“I mean, of course. They can’t just cease to exist but it’s been a few years now without any real supernatural danger. Sometimes, it feels like being Ladybug is more decorative than it is useful now.”

Chat scoffs. “Ladybug decorative? The Ladybug?” he says. “The one who saved not just Paris as a whole, but millions of people?”

Ladybug laughs. He always has the tendency to dramatize. “That was back then. I’m talking about now,” she says. “We were always so caught up trying to survive that we never really had time to think about what a superhero should do after. When the danger existed, it seemed like it existed forever.”

Chat hums in understanding. Even now, while they have this conversation in the dead of the night, Paris is quiet – apart from drunk men on the street and unnecessary honking. Even the flickering lights of tonight’s Eiffel Tower feel different. In the past, they would have to keep a keen ear to the sound of danger, but now, the city is holding itself together. Everyone has become an everyday superhero for themselves.

“Never really had time to think about a superhero retirement,” he says, kicking his legs back and forth while sitting on the ledge. “There was a time when we were the most important people in the city. Feels like we’re washed up celebrities at times, like… a teen star, you know?”

Ladybug frowns with amusement at the comparison. “A teen star?”

He shrugs. “It was the first thing that came to my mind! You get my point.”

Ladybug nods. She gets it more than anything. Just like how Adrien Agreste was the fixation of the city at one point, so was she – as Ladybug. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the most in-demand people in the city, with how much danger was lurking. But just like how her dear Adrien bid goodbye to his celebrity status as an adult… Ladybug wonders.

“So where’s this coming from?” Chat says.

“My whole world has been half Ladybug’s. At times, I was living this life more than I was living my other one, just because that was what the situation needed,” she mumbles. A heavy weight sits on her chest, stirring with every word. “But it doesn’t need to be this way forever. Not for me, at least?”

Chat’s brows furrow. “What are you saying?”

Ladybug takes a deep breath. “I’m not just Ladybug. I’m the Guardian. Even when I’m not in this suit, I’m still in it… at least to all the kwamis back home. I’m always living for the miraculous. I thought I’d be living my own life by now, you know… earning money, working on other things. I can’t do that,” she pours her heart out and Chat understands now.

His expression is so distraught that Ladybug can’t bear to look at it. The weight of her words falls on him like a crash and his lips tighten into a thin line. It takes a while for him to speak again, but when he does, it feels like all of Paris stops just for his one question.

“You don’t want to be Ladybug anymore, do you?” 

Ladybug swallows. She’s been grieving for weeks now, as if she would be losing someone dear to her and not a part of herself. But delivering this news to Chat Noir, a boy who has known her since before she came to know herself… it’s been the hardest preparation.

“There is a life waiting for me outside the miraculouses,” she attempts to say bravely. “I want to give that life a chance.”

Fear dawns upon Chat like it’s the only thing he knows now. “Okay but… my lady, you renouncing your position doesn’t mean the same thing for me, as it does for you,” his voice quivers. “If you renounce your position, it means you would…”

Chat can’t bear to continue. Ladybug hates the way guilt eats her up now, after she’s spent a long time in turmoil with herself.

“I know.”

It sets Chat off the edge. Ladybug knew it would, and she can’t blame him for the tears that appear, for the frantic and loud pleading he begins, for the desperation.

“Don’t… don’t leave me,” he blinks. “No, no- you can’t-” he pauses and Ladybug feels her heart sink at the terror in his shaking fingers as he runs them through his hair. “You can’t just leave me, Ladybug, after ten fucking years. You can’t just make this decision and- and forget about me!”

“I’m sorry, chaton,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes well up with more tears each second that passes. “I’ll be alone. I’ll be alone without you. This… this means so much to me. Please, don’t forget me.”

Ladybug thinks her body is numb, but she sees her hands tremble. “Oh kitty,” she whispers. “This was an amazing time of my life. You were the best part of some of my worst days. Don’t…” she trails off. Chat Noir is an increasing mess and Ladybug can’t bring herself to say to not make this harder for her.

“You have to give me something,” his eyes soften pleadingly. “It’s been ten years and I don’t ask for your love or even your friendship anymore but… but these small moments we meet. It’s all I have.”

“That’s not true, Chat. You have a life outside of being Chat Noir, just like I have one outside of being Ladybug. You have so much.”

He stares and she feels the minute pass slowly. “It’s not enough. I don’t have anything in my life. But I do in this one,” he says. “You.”

“I’m sorry, Chat.”

“Please, I know it’s hard being the guardian but… please. Please, my lady,” his voice trembles. “Let me have one thing. Your company every few nights… just to talk. Please give that to me,” he takes her hand and presses it to his forehead. “Whatever you have trouble with, I’ll help you. I can take care of some of the Miraculouses and I can… I can help you financially! My civilian self, he has… more money than he could ever need. I can give you that and you can let me worry about these small things and… and I don’t even need to know your name for it! I can do it anonymously. You can just tell me when you need anything and-”

“Chat Noir. Please.”

The way she says his name is a threat. She needs him to understand, she’s made her decision and she’s made it for herself. This is the only thing she can give herself after ten long years of being behind a mask. I deserve some salvation.

He quiets immediately. He protests no more but his chest heaves loudly in the silent night. Though he tries to hold back sobs, Ladybug hears each one clear. Be strong, my kitty.

Neither trusts themselves to say anything more so for a long while, they sit in this irreparable stillness. Goodbye is only one word long but Ladybug thinks it feels like it takes all the time off her lips to say. How can one begin to say goodbye to ten years of their life?

Ladybug isn’t sure what’s waiting for her on the other side. She isn’t sure the extent to which she’ll find herself wiped, but she knows she won’t know herself – her Ladybug self. She won’t know that there was once a Chat Noir nor a Hawkmoth or that a brave girl began fighting at fifteen all for this. She won’t know, not till someone takes the time to tell her that Paris had superheroes once, and they were the most spectacular thing this city’s ever seen.

How will everyone take to the news, she wonders? Would it be Alya, who tells her about Ladybug – shocked, that her best friend of so long just woke up erased? Her parents? How would she learn again, of who she once was?

And who would she be, after all this? This is the question that’s kept Ladybug awake too many nights. Not even Tikki can answer her when she asks.

“I don’t know, Marinette,” her usual voice came with no energy. “It depends on how much of yourself you put into Ladybug.”

“What if it was all of it?” Marinette answered fearfully. “Who would I be then?”

“Then… a blank slate?”

A blank slate. Ladybug isn’t sure if that’s who she wants to be on the other side. She is still Marinette, after all and she needs to be Marinette. She needs to be Marinette, so that she can still make dresses with care and that she can love everyone in her life as usual – Papa, Maman, Alya, Nino, Juleka, Luka… Adrien.

She needs to love them, just as she does now. She can’t lose that, because that would be losing far too much. She needs to still love hearing Alya rant about the smallest thing of the day, needs to still love Nino’s nonchalant attitude to anything that comes his way, needs to still love Adrien’s kind heart.

Who knows? Maybe without all this Ladybug… maybe she can love Adrien again, the way she once wanted to. Yes, that sounds nice. On the other side, she will hold onto Adrien and love him again. 

Chat’s sob escapes his lips and the sound hurts like a knife to Ladybug’s chest. When she looks at him, she thinks about how there’s so many different kinds of first loves out there – unrequited first loves, mistaken first loves, painful first loves… but never what Chat Noir will become to her. Never forgotten first loves.

You were my first love, she wants to confess. It was always you.

But she can’t. Not now, not when it hardly matters. Not when tomorrow, she plans to hand over this life to a new girl, one she sees herself in, and move to being only Marinette. Marinette never loved Chat Noir, never thought once about saving the world, never experienced heartbreak on the top of a rooftop. Marinette has only ever liked Adrien Agreste and plans to confess to him in due time, has only ever wanted to save her own world and has only ever experienced heartbreak over celebrities.

“Have you chosen a new Guardian?” he asks finally, trying to keep from crying.

“Yes. I’m sure she will seek you out first,” Ladybug answers. “She’s young. Be gentle with her.”

“I hope you chose well,” he mumbles.

Ladybug nods. “I hope she is good to you.”

“Will that even matter to you?”

“It matters to me now,” Ladybug’s eyes fall. He says nothing and the silence returns.

This can’t be the end, even she thinks. Ten years of friendships, millions of moments of partnership, hundreds of seconds of something more… it can’t amount to only this. Ladybug wishes more than anything that there was a more seamless way to keep Chat Noir all to herself, without having to lose so much in the process.

But these are the cards she’s been dealt. There’s no way for a Ladybug like her to have a life for herself without having to burn her precious past. 

She turns to look at Chat Noir. Usually, on nights like these when he’s exceptionally handsome, she’s busy committing him to memory. She hates to think of how there’s no reason to do it anymore. Her hand reaches gently over to his arm and he looks up.

“I’ll give you something,” she smiles softly. “It’s not what you want but… I think you’ll like it.”

He’s frozen with hurt etched so deeply in his eyes that Ladybug is only grateful that she can forget this sight of him when she gives up being the guardian. It’s not a look she wants to ever remember, not if she wants to live without guilt.

“My name. I’m giving you my name,” Ladybug says when he doesn’t answer. Her words register slowly to him and suddenly, his eyes widen. “You can come find me in my civilian life, if you want. Don’t tell me that you’re Chat or that I was Ladybug but just… you can come find me and I can keep you company. Every few nights, just like you asked,” she finishes with a cheeky smile.

There’s still shock in his expression.

“Chat?”

He blinks. “I can… I can come to you?”

Ladybug swallows. “Yes. But you can’t tell me anything. You’re a stranger, okay?”

His face crumples and he takes a few seconds to answer. “Our memories together,” he croaks. “You won’t know a thing. You won’t know how special you are to me or how we…”

Ladybug has to glance away to hide the way his words tear a hole in her heart. “We can… we can start over. You can come find me and make your way into my life,” she smiles though it stings. “You can tell me stories. I probably won’t know a thing about Chat Noir and Ladybug, you can tell me all about them and we can be friends.”

“But you won’t remember that you were my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, Chat.”

They sit in silence for the rest of the night and she hears him cry this time. He tries to bargain again and when she consoles him, he only sobs more. Truth be told, Marinette wants to cry too. She wants to cry and scream at how unfair the world could be to a fourteen-year-old girl who didn’t know a thing about anything before she had to become a hero.

And now, she has to break her own heart.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she says.

He glances at her. “What about her?”

“The daughter of a baker, an aspiring designer with a little boutique and… for a little while, Paris’ superhero, alongside the world’s best partner. Marinette,” she says with a smile. “I’m giving you my name.”

His breath hitches and his eyes widen. “Marinette…” he whispers.

It’s a sin how beautiful it sounds from his lips, after ten years of secrecy and companionship. Marinette hopes the person she’ll become from tomorrow loves the way he says her name as much as she does in this moment.

“Oh my God, Marinette,” he buries his face in his hands. “Marinette… I love you. I love you. I’ve only ever loved you and now… Marinette,” his voice breaks in the end.

Marinette presses her nails into her palm to stop herself from becoming desperate at him calling for her. She wants to tell him that she loves him too, that she’s only ever loved him, and despite whatever fleeting admiration her teenage self felt for a classmate, that it’s only ever been him.

Instead, all she can do is offer a clenched fist in a childish gesture.

“Come and find me, kitty,”

*

Marinette wakes up crying. 

The sadness she wakes up with is one that hurts her to the core. For a while, she drifts in and out of sleep and unable to grasp reality. 

She doesn’t know how long this goes on for. Time doesn’t make sense in the state she finds herself in. Dreams come to her vividly, so vivid that she can mistake them for reality, but not vivid enough that she can forget that she’s living through something her mind created. 

And… she feels everything. Marinette didn’t know how many emotions a person could feel - how many she could once feel - until she goes through this ordeal. The last two years of her life have been simply like a tester of life. What Marinette feels in her dreams are extreme ends of euphoria and anguish. 

It becomes hard to tolerate and so, she understands why she can’t bring herself to move even a finger sometimes. Everything falls to her body. 

The worst parts of the dreams she lived through were that while she would watch one from start to end, the second it elapsed — she would already feel herself forgetting it. It was a fight with her own self, to hold onto something that her own strength was taking from her. 

In between some dreams, she hears voices interrupt her trance. She hears a crying man, she just collapsed, Noelle, she isn’t waking up; she hears a young girl, they will help us with this and I closed the shop for her; she hears a squeaky voice, similar to a child’s, and a much deeper one squabble between themselves; she hears her parents. 

But she can’t say a thing to anyone. In the moments of consciousness she does have, Marinette only finds herself wishing to do one thing – to reach over, pull out her sketchbook and look at those pictures of Chat Noir again.

It’s a repeated cycle of this, and her body batters with each time. Marinette sees a dream, she feels it like it were the first time, she wakes up forgetting and she plunges into a new dream again. Answers come to her in them on stolen memories from her days in school and missing gaps of life. Marinette doesn’t want to part from this. 

Most of all, she doesn’t want to part from feeling in love as she once did. She didn’t know she had it in herself to love so deeply and yet, in her memories, she’s that way.

I don’t want to forget.

After a particularly strong vision of herself with a black spotted little bug, Marinette gains her usual partial consciousness again. She only has a few minutes before she’ll drag herself back into trying to remember that thing… what did it call itself? Tikki?

“Marinette,” a deep voice speaks to her. “Marinette!”

The sensation of a tight grip on her hand comes suddenly. Marinette wills herself to try and respond, though the most she can endure is opening her eyes slowly.

“Marinette,” the boy cries. “Please wake up.”

Blond hair falls over his eyes in a tangled mess. He clings onto Marinette dearly, like she’s made of something that could slip away through his fingers. 

“Chat Noir,” Marinette tries to speak. She thinks she’s called out for him but when the boy barely budges, Marinette realizes she’s only spoken the name aloud to herself in her mind.

“Just give up, Marinette. I’m begging you,” he says. “Wake up.”

She doesn’t think she hears anything else from the conversation. The boy continues to cry, and can make out the shape of his body resigned over hers. The scene is almost familiar to her… the sound of these sobs is becoming clearer to her.

She’s remembering. She remembers these sobs on a rooftop, but she remembers them in other places too – in a tunnel, in school, in places she didn’t think she’s ever been. 

But as soon as the memories flood, so does the pain. Marinette is fighting her body again. 

Remembering you, she thinks to him, is killing me.

It’s killing her, she slowly realizes. It’s killing her to discover parts of herself that she hid but Marinette can’t let go. Why did I want to forget all this?

To uncover this, Marinette finds herself constantly going back to her dreams. She never wanted to forget, she understands this, so why did she make herself? 

The answer reveals itself in blurry visions at the end of dreams – her younger self crying in bed after a particularly hard day, where she missed Alya’s graduation while handling a crisis for Nooroo; her parents sitting alone at a dinner table with a full course meal prepared, only for her to arrive close to midnight from a villain fight that ruined the night; a job interview for her dream job missed by taking care of Tikki, for which Tikki apologized furiously but Marinette simply smiled and said, “it’s okay, Tikki! I always wanted to run my own boutique anyway.”

It’s not only one or two occurrences of things like these. It’s Marinette’s whole life, on a reel – from her fourteen year old self to her twenty four year old self. Her whole life passed by like this, in quiet moments of disappointment.

She understands now. She loved this life, but it was destroying her. She never wanted to forget this life, but she couldn’t give it up without erasing it. She never wanted to lose herself but she wanted some peace.

It’s the most unfair luck in the world, Marinette thinks, to give her such a beautiful life and make her hurt for living it. I didn’t deserve this.

This was not the life she should’ve been given. She should’ve been rewarded, for all she sacrificed. She should’ve been celebrated and granted every wish she wanted. She should’ve exchanged her old life for one that could honor it, not forget it.

I won’t forget, she screams to a void in her head. I won’t forget. I won’t give up my life anymore.

And so Marinette fights. She fights harder than she ever did, she fights for her life. She fights for all the missed occasions and birthdays she couldn’t celebrate as Marinette, she fights for all the battles she couldn’t win as Ladybug. She fights for the life she had to give up just to be able to choose. She fights because someone is waiting for her.

She does her hardest to overcome the ache that’s paralyzed her to a floating consciousness. I will wake up, she repeats to herself, and I will remember every dream of mine.

It’s a mantra she doesn’t quit saying. With each part of her body she conquers, the stinging feeling dissipates. From her fingers to her elbows, she regains control, though it isn’t easy. 

She’s tiring like nothing else. For a few moments, she even worries whether she’s destroying herself just to cling onto her memories. Trying to wake up with them is like pulling a weight by a net up a hill. She feels the scalding burn of the wires on her fingers and the weight tears on her muscles like paper, but she doesn’t give up.

She will be selfish this time. She will take this one thing for herself – a self-rewarded gift of sorts. No one thanked her enough for the years she gave for this city, but she doesn’t need that thank you. 

Just let me wake up, with all my memories. Please.

“Marinette?”

For a second, Marinette thinks she’s traveled back in time. The voice that calls her name is one she heard in her dreams, waking up every morning as a teenager. The same voice that pulled her out of her groggy state and dragged her to school.

“Tikki?”

Her voice shakes as she says the name. Though it’s only been two years since she’s said goodbye to her, it feels instead like a lifetime apart. 

Tikki screams in joy, flying over her head in haste. “You remember me?!” she cries out. “You remember me! Marinette, do you really-”

“Yes,” Marinette laughs hoarsely. Her hands go to push herself up the bed, but she’s considerably weaker than she remembers. She lands back on the bed with a painful thump.

“Be careful!” she frets before blinking widely. “How can this happen? You remember me and you’re not…”

“Dead?” Marinette offers. “I felt like I was getting there.”

“That’s the magic of our kwamis. It’s impossible to break the barrier,” Tikki frowns. “Marinette, how could you do it?”

Marinette swallows. How did she do it? Did she really even do it?

She’s holding her mind in tact, though she was close to losing it. If she tries, she thinks she can recall any memory to her head though it is blurrier than she thinks it was in her sleep. 

“I fought it,” she says with a disbelief. “I begged and I fought. I remember everything… not the way a normal person would but I remember,” she laughs in relief. “Oh, Tikki. I’m so happy to see you again.”

Tikki flies to her cheek and brushes herself against it. Tikki is unchanged from her memories, but Marinette feels a difference to the way things were from what she remembers. 

“Noelle was worried sick. We’ve been keeping watch this whole time,” she says. “It’s been two weeks without you, in case you were wondering. We’ve been keeping you alive.”

Marinette blinks. “How am I alive?”

“You said so yourself, you fought, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to remember and wake up.”

“It must’ve not been that much of a jump for you to remember. Maybe you always knew, deep down,” Tikki answers. “That, and you being like no other Ladybug I’ve ever seen, Marinette. Don’t let Noelle hear that.”

Marinette flushes. Did she always know, deep down?

She thinks back to the last two years. Staring out at Paris, through a shop, she never thought once about Ladybug… until she did. Until every day of her life, she learnt a little bit about Ladybug and her partner. 

She blinks. Her saving grace was in a story.

“Where’s Adrien?” she says suddenly.

Tikki glances at Marinette in surprise. “Adrien? He’s at home, he’s come by a few times but it got a bit hard for him to watch you like this-”

“I need to see him now,” Marinette gasps. Weakness brings her body back to the bed but she tries her hardest to move in haste.

“Marinette, it can wait! You need to get checked by-”

“I know, Tikki,” Marinette answers. She looks at Tikki with a sincere glance and nothing more needs to be said for her companion of ten years to understand. “I know.”

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki’s head falls. “I should’ve told you, I know I should’ve!”

Marinette strokes her head with a finger. “Don’t say that. I was so naive to never see it before,” she laughs. “It took me to forget him to even know him.”

Big teardrops fall from Tikki’s eyes. “You should see him. He’s been a mess since you’ve arrived here,” she says, looking around Marinette’s room. Marinette can see packets of medicine lying around, wet towels on the desk, and flowers fill her usually empty apartment. 

“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

When Marinette leaves, she runs. She feels the wind slap her cheeks and her muscles tire with each movement, but she doesn’t stop. She runs, like she once remembers, through the streets and the curves of the city. She stops for only a few moments, by stalls in the city, by familiar faces and it’s euphoric.

The city is alive and it’s never been this way for the years she was forgetting herself. Marinette speeds through it as if she were once again Ladybug.

All those stories of a brave girl on these streets were her. It was her who brought peace here and she deserves to celebrate that. 

With a beaming smile, and her chest heaving, she arrives at Adrien's apartment doorstep. She’s never come here before, always too fearful of overstepping a boundary for a man she couldn’t remember. But now, she knocks with an urgency of ten years.

Adrien’s voice comes muffled through the door, a coming! shouted out and it squeezes at Marinette’s heart. She forgot this voice once.

His steps become louder and louder, and then he opens the door. And Marinette finds herself face to face with the life she’s worked so hard to remember.

“Adrien,” she mumbles, already feeling the tears pricking at her eyes. 

“Ma-Marinette,” Adrien breathes. His hands tremble with shock and he blinks. His face has gone white. “You’re… you woke up?”

Marinette nods with a smile. “Hi, kitty.”

Here they are, years older since they first became two superheroes and yet, when Marinette looks at him… she still sees her childhood. She sees herself in Adrien. 

She watches as his face crumples into a sob and he mutters under his breath, my lady over and over again. It’s like resuming a conversation that last ended two years ago. No time has passed at all and yet, it has.  

“I’m sorry,” her voice breaks with the apology. “I didn’t want to forget.”

Adrien shakes with a sadness he has never shown the Marinette of the last two years. “How are you… how do you remember?”

“I fought. I took back my decision.”

“I thought I forced you to remember,” he says. “I was going crazy. I thought I killed you, Marinette. You chose to forget and I put those memories back in your mind with stories and… and just by existing.”

Marinette shook her head. “Don’t say that. Please.”

“You didn’t want to be Ladybug anymore,” he says quietly.

She nods. “I thought I didn’t but removing Ladybug from who I am… it numbed me to everything,” she says. “I can’t forget that part of myself… or you.”

Marinette feels her heart slice with every cry of Adrien’s. For this is not just Adrien, but her best friend of her childhood – this is Chat Noir. 

It doesn’t take either of them to be in their suits to see each other for who they are – Ladybug and Chat Noir. They might never wear the mask again but to Marinette, this will always be her Chat Noir.

And she would always be Ladybug. There would be no part of her that could give up Ladybug, even if she wanted to, even if she had to. Even if she wouldn’t be today’s Ladybug, she was still a Ladybug of some time. 

“We deserved so much better,” Marinette says in a hushed voice. “We deserved a better ending for our stories.”

“We did. We were only fourteen,” he laughs despondently. “I thought there would be something better for us down the line than having to live like this.”

“We should make that something better,” she gives a small smile. “I won’t let my memories be taken from me and you shouldn’t let your rightful pain be taken from you. Let’s live happily now, Chat Noir.”

Twenty six now, and Marinette’s life flashes in her mind. She’s been fighting and looking all this time for some escape from the fate she’s been given, the unique predicament that no one but one other soul in this world can understand. But she doesn’t need to fight anymore. There is a way for Ladybug and Chat Noir to live again, without despair at the end of their tale.

He nods and smiles. “Okay,” he says firmly. “So, what now, my lady?”

Adrien blinks, with so much innocence and quiet happiness, that Marinette finds herself transported to the first time she saw him outside her shop after forgetting him. The boy that day too looked like a lost kitten, arriving to her unsteadily. Only there’s no reason for him to seem lost now – there would be only happiness in the new path they would tread together from here.

“It’s a new day,” she says softly. “There’s so many stories you can still tell me.”

His smile softens, as if he can’t believe the words. “You already know all of them now.”

Marinette holds his hand carefully with hers. She’s standing in uncharted territory now, something unfamiliar. “I want to hear them anyway,” she says with a grin. “A story each time you see me, that was the deal, wasn’t it?”

He laughs and squeezes her hand tightly. There’s so much Marinette needs to understand about the pain that he went through, and the choices she made. Her world is bigger now than a dress shop and a calm life, but she sticks to what she knows, just so she can get through it, second by second.

And so, she does the only thing she knows what to do upon being with Adrien – she offers a flower. 

*

ending note: something i regularly think about in regards to the show set-up is how absolutely depressing marinette and adrien's futures are. we have adrien whose father is hawkmoth and marinette who has to lose her memory if she wants to give up being the guardian. their whole lives are sacrificed for the cause of the city, and i respect them so much for that. but my heart also hurts for them, and how happy they deserve to be. hope you guys enjoyed my little exploration on post hawkmoth life, and choosing happiness through making their own fate.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous adrien #miraculous marinette #mlb #adrien agreste #adrien x marinette #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette fanfic #adrienette #mlb fanfic #mlb fanfiction #mlb adrien #mlb marinette #ladybug x chat noir #chat noir x ladybug #ladybug and chat noir

[joonapeach]

on a night like this [MLB]

summary: 

“Hey,” Chat starts off. “Hypothetically… if you liked someone-” “I do like someone.” “Since you like someone,” Chat continues. “How do you act with them?” “Hm?” “What are you like when you like someone?” he said. “I’m curious. Since I’ll never get to see it, it’s only fair you at least share the information, don’t you think?” (Alternatively… Chat indulges in his curiosity to find out what the girl of his dreams is like when she likes someone, only to realize it sounds oddly familiar.)

author’s note:  fun fact this started as a drabble but ended up with me itching so bad to write and ensure that i haven’t lost all my skill in writing so it is now what it is... alternatively me feeling very self conscious about the quality of this compared to other things i’ve written on here but still wanting to write about two superhero teenagers and the weight of their lives and identities

also reposted on ao3

Quiet nights were Chat Noir’s favorites.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy the job of crime fighting, or of course, the moments after he’d done the work well enough to warrant applause and attention… but quiet nights had found themselves to be special to Chat Noir. In the still of the night, while still wrapped up in magical latex, there was a way to exist as both a boy and a superhero.

It was in these moments when he had nothing to do and nowhere to be at all, that he found himself thinking as Adrien and Chat Noir both at once. Did he finish tomorrow’s homework? Would Hawkmoth akumatize that crying woman on the street right now? Oh, was fencing in tomorrow’s schedule? Did he need to increase patrol nights after the last surge of villains?

It was a strange experience, to exist as two people, all the more strange to exist as them simultaneously. Adrien didn’t understand at times where he began and where Chat Noir ended. 

“How different do you think you are?” he began. “To Ladybug?”

Contrary to what anyone else might think, it was harder to start conversations for Chat Noir while not out of breath and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. When he was forced to think only as his superhero self, there were a plethora of things he could find himself wanting to say to Ladybug in the heated moments of battle. She would respond in a beat too.

Now, with the luxury of all the time in the world and the chance to be both who he had always been and recently become, he found himself stumbling over awkward starter questions and pretentious sounding attempts at heartfelt conversations. 

“You mean my not-Ladybug self to my Ladybug self?” her chirpy voice answered behind him. Chat Noir listened to the way her feet would land so delicately from rooftop to rooftop on quiet patrol nights, almost carefully as if she could fall from the wrong step. The way she moved when they fought, with all eyes on them, to now was starkly different.

“Yeah. Your everyday self.”

“That’s a little invasive, don’t you think?” Ladybug answered with a laugh. 

Chat Noir rolled his eyes. “Come on, I can at least ask this much about you! Or would you rather doom me to isolating thoughts about this very abnormal life I live, who only one other person in this world would understand?”

“Don’t put it that way. You have Plagg,” Ladybug offered with an amused glint in her eyes. 

“You think he can take his attention off whatever nasty smell is around him for more than ten minutes to console me on my identity crises?” Chat Noir laughed. It was not completely true that Plagg was so apathetic to Adrien’s confusion to his double-existence. Plagg had been more attentive of Adrien’s thoughts than any family in his house, though there was only so much a kwami could understand about a human’s mind.

There was a noticeable change to Ladybug’s demeanor when she spoke next. “Oh. Do you regularly experience an identity crisis?” she asked, her brows furrowing. “Has everything been okay?”

“You don’t need to worry, it’s not like that. Identity crisis is an overstatement.”

“Well, then?”

Adrien’s head looked down at the streets as the two stopped alongside the edge of a building. In the daytime, he too roamed around these alleys and paths, though as a completely different person. On nights like these, he found himself flying across skies.

“Living as two different people is something I’m still understanding,” he confessed. “One moment, I’m thinking about something so ordinary and human, like an assignment I have or cleaning my room. Next moment, the city’s under attack and I’m thinking about what I have to do in the next half hour to stop the deaths of hundreds of people,” he turned to Ladybug. “It feels like I’m living a human experience, then suddenly, it doesn’t… not that I’m saying Chat Noir is not a human or something! I don’t think I’m above anyone or anything, you know, I just- ah, where was I going with this?”

Ladybug smiled. Chat Noir loved that smile. “Don’t worry. I get it,” she said. “I'm probably the only other person in the world who gets it, right?”

He laughed sheepishly. “Something like that.”

She pointed to the next building in view after scanning the streets carefully. Chat Noir wondered if she, too, felt like two versions of herself existed on nights like this, while watching over the city with no imminent danger. Did she too feel like her mind was louder tonight, with the voices of two separate worlds?

Chat Noir swung from his metal stick from one rooftop to the next, with the ease of the movement feeling akin to walking. He landed on his feet perfectly. Something that looked so marvelous on television to others was just a simple repeated motion for him. As simple as catching a ball or jumping up.

Ladybug followed, landing behind him seconds later. “It’s not easy for me either. The way I have to think when I’m not in this suit is very different to the way I think when I’m fighting. No one in my life suspects I’m Ladybug either, despite some close calls, and honestly? Sometimes, that makes it worse. It makes it feel like I really am two different people, and I’m lying to my other self when I’m in the suit… I’ve wished for people to suspect me of being Ladybug sometimes, as awful as that sounds. Just so it would cure this.”

Chat Noir swallowed. “Oh. That different?”

“Maybe to the people who know me?” she shrugged and paused. After a moment, she hesitated to ask a question before finally indulging in it. “What about you? Would it be that much of a shock to the people who know you if they knew you were this whole other person?”

At first, Chat Noir’s immediate thought was no. He could see maybe his father being a little taken aback that his proper and polished model-citizen son was the same playful latex-wearing superhero. But Nathalie might see it as what it was – a perfect outlet for the parts of Adrien that never appeared elsewhere. His friends, Nino and the rest of the boys from school, too might not find it too surprising. The two halves of him bled into each other so seamlessly.

But then, Chat Noir thought of, strangely enough to him, a classmate who he had always worked hard to show his best self to - his kindest, most well-behaved, most perfect Adrien self he could be. Would Marinette find it believable that rowdy Chat Noir was really Adrien? She would probably lose a lot of admiration for him, he was sure.

He sighed. “I think my other self might be more preferable to some people,” he said, thinking too of the many fans Adrien Agreste had.

“Wow. You must really be all that,” Ladybug laughed. “I don’t think my civilian self could ever compare to Ladybug. She’s definitely the winner between the two versions of me.”

Chat Noir wasn’t sure what to say to that. Would it be worse to live like Ladybug, being preferred for his Chat Noir self or remain as himself? Questions like these came to his mind almost daily now. 

“I think tonight seems good. We can end it here,” Ladybug offered, halting to a stop.

The end of a quiet night so soon, his favorite type of night, made Chat Noir let out a sigh. He would have to return home and think only as Adrien now till the world called for him again. He bent, ready to perch.

“But you don’t have to leave… so soon,” a cough interrupted his departure. Chat Noir turned to see Ladybug sheepishly staring out and seated down on the edge.

He blinked. It was rare to witness Ladybug want to cling onto being Ladybug any minute longer than she had to. Chat Noir fought the blossoming feeling of hope that he was the reason for her delaying her return. It’s just a friendly gesture, nothing more. Don’t ruin it.

“More identity crises to discuss?” he grinned before jumping down next to her. 

“Oh, don’t start any more of that. You’ve given me a month’s worth of burden to unpack in my brain now,” she said. “If I was just Ladybug, like some of these superheroes in movies, who lived just to exist as a superhero, it would be so easy. Instead, I have a whole other life to think about at the same time, and then all this reflection on who I really am between these two people.”

Chat Noir nodded. “It helps me to think of what’s the same between them. Between Chat Noir and my civilian self, I mean. It kind of makes me understand how I can be both at once.”

That idea seemed to resonate with Ladybug. Chat felt pleased at how she blinked, deeply in thought, before turning to him.

“Can I trust you to very carefully share some similarities without compromising your identity and making me regret giving into my curiosity?”

He grinned. “Wow. So you do wonder about me too.”

“Don’t push it, kitty.”

“Well, for starters, since you asked so nicely, I have to share that my first similarity is I am so unbelievably handsome and charming in both selves.”

“I’m already regretting,” mumbled Ladybug, covering her face. “Forget it. I am no longer curious.”

Chat Noir laughed. Her exasperation, though he’d never let her know it, was just as delightful to watch as her moments of brilliance during fights. There were so many sides to Ladybug that captivated Chat Noir, ones that he discovered every day and night.

Quiet nights, especially. Quiet nights were his favorites, because she looked even more striking and beautiful when being accompanied by the scenery of a dark sky.

“Okay, okay. I think the easiest similarity is that I enjoy mischief just as much in my civilian self. But I can’t show that as much in that life as I can in this. It helps to be Chat Noir in that way.”

“Just as much of a delinquent in civilian life. Got it,” she said with a smile playing on her lips.

“And of course, there’s the similarity of admiring you. Both my civilian self and I, we like you very much,” he pouted. “You’re our idol.”

“Is your civilian self just as bad as hiding it?” she continued smiling, amused.

“Oh, he’s much worse than me. Can’t stop raving about her and defending her. They call me Ladybug’s number one fan.”

“Can’t be. That’s the Ladyblog.”

He grumbled. “Yeah, she’s my rival,” he complained while thinking of very real arguments Alya and him had in between classes. Alya’s justification for claiming the title was that she ran the biggest outlet for Ladybug’s news, while Adrien had nothing to offer – except of course, his countless days and nights spent in Ladybug’s company that could hardly be offered as evidence. In the end, Alya was unfortunately handed the title by the judges, Nino and a very bizarrely amused Marinette.

“Please do not terrorize her,” Ladybug suddenly blinked, eyes wide as if she really couldn’t be certain if Chat Noir wouldn’t. Then, with a laugh, she added, “she’s got a whole line of people debating her for being my biggest fan.” 

Chat Noir only rolled his eyes. Even as Chat Noir, it seemed that he couldn’t steal Alya’s title from her. “This is so unfair.”

“Sorry, kitty. You can try being someone else’s devoted fan?”

“Whose should I be?” he cocked a brow teasingly.

“No other Paris celebrity you like?”

“Well, there’s this person…”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know her name though. Or how she looks,” he paused. “But whenever a crisis happens, she goes and transforms into this superhero… I’m a huge fan of her,” he grinned.

“After me, Chat Noir!” she laughed. “After me, who do you idolize?”

He hummed in thought, taking the question seriously now. “That’s easy.”

“So quick.”

“Yup. It’s another girl.”

Ladybug’s eyebrows shot up. She watched Chat Noir attentively for his answer.

“It’s a girl in my class, actually,” he explained. “She’s really kind and she’s so smart at everything she does. I think she inspires me a lot. I feel bad about myself whenever I try to impose myself on her.”

“Why’s that?” Ladybug frowned.

“She doesn’t seem like she likes me very much. She avoids crossing paths with me and then when she does talk to me first, it’s usually something said in such a hurry so that she can quickly end the conversation,” Chat Noir sighed. “I get it though. She’s got a lot going on for her, it’s probably a waste of time to talk to me.”

“Don’t say that!” Ladybug huffed. Her frown was deeper now, embedded into the lines of her forehead. “She sounds awful. Why would you be inspired by such a terrible person?”

“Hey, don’t say that about her!” Chat Noir retorted. “She’s still one of my friends.”

“I think you can find better friends,” Ladybug grumbled before muttering, “it sounds like you have a crush on her, by the way.”

Chat Noir paused. Him liking Marinette? He doesn’t think he could ever subject Marinette to him liking her, not when she would struggle to reciprocate even a comfortable friendship with him.

“Are you jealous?” he grinned. Perhaps he was hallucinating or was the quiet night suddenly not so quiet anymore? Was that his heart pumping in his ears? Violins playing in his head?

“Don’t be silly.”

“I don’t like her, so don’t be worried,” he said. “She’s just someone I think very highly of. She’s a good person and she’s always trying to help anyone she can, with however much she has. I know it doesn’t sound that way to you, but trust me… if she had a Miraculous, I know she’d be out there doing what we do. Patrolling late at night, putting herself at risk, just so others would be fine. She’s that kind of person.”

A moment of silence passed. Chat Noir worried if he overdid it a little… that last part might’ve been a twinge too much to say. What if Ladybug took offense to it? He hoped she didn’t think he meant she wasn’t doing her job well, or that Marinette would be a better Ladybug to her.

“Are you sure you don’t have a crush?” said Ladybug. “It’s a little romantic to think of an ordinary girl as deeply as you have.”

Chat Noir blinked. “More romantic than my multiple confessions to you?!”

“I’m just saying,” she said in a sing-song voice. “You should reflect a little on that.”

“She’s just a friend!”

“It always starts off that way,” Ladybug mumbled. It was the last thing she said before the night returned to silence.

Chat Noir was left with a bizarre feeling in his chest at that. He looked over to Ladybug, only to see her looking at the sky and blinking wistfully. As selfish as it sounded, he didn’t like the idea of her being so lost in thought about someone else.

He swallowed. If Ladybug had talked about someone else the way Chat Noir spoke of Marinette, would he be able to accept it? What did that make him? Did it mean… that perhaps, his thoughts and feelings of Marinette transcended the norm of platonic respect?

No more of that. He shut down the thought as quickly as it came. Instead, Ladybug took over his attention and he watched her keep to herself. There was certainly a lot running through her mind, so much that she wouldn’t share for her own drawn lines of boundaries and safety. For once, he wished she could forego them. 

There was so much more he wanted to know of her, so much more he wanted to understand about her. He wanted to watch her in her mundane life the innocent way he found himself watching Marinette sometimes – observingly and charmed. There was a whole other world of Ladybug he wanted.

“Hey,” Chat started off. “Hypothetically… if you liked someone-”

“I do like someone,” she said. Her gaze remained unmoving from the sky.

“Since you like someone,” Chat continued, placing his chin into his palm. “How do you act with them?”

“Hm?”

“What are you like when you like someone?” he said. “I’m curious. Since I’ll never get to see it, it’s only fair you at least share the information, don’t you think?”

Ladybug turned to look in surprise and laughed. The wind of the night pressed lightly against the two of them, carrying their furtive words away as soon as they were spoken. Her pigtails fluttered back and forth so delicately that Chat Noir couldn’t draw his eyes away.

“Now what is this question?” she said in bemusement. “Need to fact check your fanfiction?”

“I’ve got a point to prove to the Ladyblog on who knows Ladybug better,” he retorted.

The smile on Ladybug’s face was unwavering. Chat Noir was relieved, for he was not too certain that she wouldn’t yell at him for asking a potentially too personal question. 

“What do you think I’m like?”

“Me?! You’re asking for my opinion?”

“Just out of curiosity. The whole identity crisis thing we have, remember?”

Chat grinned. What would Ladybug be like, if she liked him? That was the real question he asked himself to imagine. He’d been rejected so many times over the years that it was hard to imagine a response to his confessions being anything other than a scolding. 

But if, by some miracle, he found himself presented with a Ladybug who liked him… what would she look like? 

“I think you’d be upfront. Much like me, not beating around the bush, but a lot more cautious with wanting to confess at the perfect right time,” he said before reluctantly adding, “that’s probably why you haven’t asked out this guy, right?”

Ladybug sighed. “You’re right about the last part, but the reasons are all jumbled up. Oh, I’m not upfront at all. I mean, I try to be but the real me is a disaster at that.”

The real her… that’s what she called her self that wasn’t Ladybug. Chat tried not to think too deeply on what those words entailed, the possibility that the other part of her, the one he didn’t know, was far more real than Ladybug. 

“You can’t be upfront with him?” he said. “Sounds like a terrible guy.”

“Watch it, he’s my friend,” she answered teasingly. “It’s not him that’s the problem. It’s me. He definitely thinks I’m so odd. Or worse… he thinks I’m rude.”

“Why would he think that?”

She sighed, and buried her face between her knees. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. No one will find someone they think weird and rude to be likable.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure it’s possible.”

“And what evidence do you have?”

Chat chewed his lip carefully. At the sign of the dejected Ladybug, he rushed to say the first bright idea he thought in his head. “The girl from my class! The one I find really amazing. She can be a little weird, even a bit rude to me at times. I still think she’s great. You know, sometimes, it’s even charming. She keeps me on my toes and she’s funny.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. “So you do like her?”

“Not like that!”

She simply hummed disbelievingly in response. “How do you find that to be charming?” she said. “She sounds so different from me- well, Ladybug. Aren’t I your standard?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “I think she’s pretty cool too,” he smiled. “So tell me, what is it you’re like that you’re sure he finds weird?”

Ladybug raised herself from her desolate position on the ground before starting. “Well… I’m awfully shy. I mix up words and I can’t get a sentence out without combusting. I do stupid things like run away and freak out and oh , I even steal his things from the trash that he throws away just to see if I can know more about him. I’ll start the conversation, and then I’ll give up half-way. He’s just left there! How awful!”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s happened to me before. I’m sure he doesn’t take it to heart! I always assume she’s got something urgent to do,” he gave a reassuring, broad smile. “And the trash thing… It's sweet. Hard to imagine you doing that but sweet nonetheless. You must really like him,” he said with his smile unmoving. 

He hoped not to show it but his spirit shattered from hearing about Ladybug being so lovestruck by someone that she would forgo all her regular headstrong ideals and rules.

“It gets worse!” she groaned. “I’ve tripped so much in front of him. On air . Sometimes, into the grossest situations!”

“He doesn’t help you?” Chat cocked a critical brow. Whenever Marinette did similar things in front of him, he would always rush to her aid. But in his case, whenever he’d offer to help, it would only make things worse. Marinette must really dislike me.

“He does. But by then, I’m too embarrassed to accept the help,” she sighed. “He’s perfect and I’m mortified that I’m a mess like that.”

Chat Noir instantly reconsidered his previous statement. Too embarrassed to accept the help? Was that… what Marinette felt like? Was she feeling mortification to accept Adrien’s hand on the ground? It had to be, because there was no reason for her to hate him so much that she would reject him like that. 

“The worst part of all is that he likes Ladybug, and I know that. He’s obsessed with her. He thinks she’s cool and she’s so strong and she’s confident, and I’m not at all like that. Especially around him.”

“He could like you and Ladybug at the same time?” Chat offered hopefully, before instantly regretting his words. Stop trying to set them up, idiot!

Ladybug slumped further into glumness. “He has someone he thinks the world of. I can’t compare to Ladybug, even if I am Ladybug,” her voice wavered. “Identity crisis sucks, right?” she attempted humorously.

Chat couldn’t bear the sight. He hated to support whoever this awful person was, but he couldn’t allow Ladybug to feel like this because of him. “You can be that Ladybug and this other person at once. He can like you and her too.”

“I hope so. I haven’t stopped trying,” she murmured. “I’ve done a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah?” he said gently. “Like what?”

“Well, one time I gave him something that was pretty special to me. I thought it would show my sincerity better than my half-mumbled sentences to him,” she said. “He made me the same thing after a while as a gift. I thought it was a really nice moment.”

Chat thought back to the lucky charm stored in the desk drawer, away from the prying eyes of Nathalie. He could understand Ladybug’s story. Even in his own life, after Marinette had given that, he was certain she didn’t actually hate him as he sometimes believed.

“I’m sure he thought well of it.”

“I hope so. I hope he still kept what I gave him.”

“He must’ve,” Chat said with certainty. “I have a story similar to that and I kept what my classmate gave me.”

“Oh,” Ladybug said strangely. “Your classmate also gave you something?”

“Yeah. Actually, now that you started talking, there are some similarities between you guys. She stumbles on her words a lot too. I thought she hated me, but I think she might just be shy. Like you.”

Ladybug blinked, suddenly looking rattled. “Does she like you?!”

“What? No, of course not!” Chat laughed. “So back to your crush?”

“I think I’ve shared enough already,” retorted Ladybug. “And whatever I say, you can’t stop relating it back to your own classmate-crush!”

“She’s not my crush, my lady,” Chat countered immediately. “I just brought her up because I thought it’d make you feel better! About you know… your own thing.”

“How would she make me feel better?”

“Well, because you’re… similar?” Chat said confidently before trailing off into a question to himself. Marinette and Ladybug similar ? No, that didn’t seem right at all.

Oh, but then why did it sound so fitting in this situation?

“I am nothing like this girl!” Ladybug puffed her lip out in anger before then groaning. “I think I’m actually much worse. I broke into his private party one time! Where I wasn’t even invited.”

Chat Noir blinked, feeling a sudden strange chill creep over his body. “I’m sure he was happy that… his friend joined,” he said. A rather odd thought settled itself into Chat’s mind, and he attempted to respond as normally as he could to Ladybug while trying to shake it out.

“Gave him the wrong note one time for a prescription instead of a love letter. Ended with him giving me constipation medicine,” she groaned before slamming her head into her palms, as if the horrifying memory was fresh.

“I’m sure… he thought it was… amusing?” Chat Noir found himself answering robotically now. Coincidences happened, right? Surely they did. Surely they had to. 

Such an innocent conversation couldn’t be changing the trajectory of Chat Noir’s life as he knew it. Surely not.

“Didn’t want to be apart from him on a trip abroad one time, convinced his dad to let him come,” she continued before pausing. “In hindsight, this one’s a little bit more positive press for me. But it’s still so embarrassing! I barely knew the guy!”

Chat Noir felt every nerve, from his toes to neck, sting his body in a surreal sensation. Such an ordinary conversation, such a quiet night couldn’t be the one to change his life and yet, Chat knew this was how life was as a whole. Things could change so quickly, in a routine moment, and nothing would be the same again. That was how he’d become Chat Noir, how he’d fallen in love with Ladybug, how he’d met Marinette.

Now, it would be how he solved an identity crisis.

“What? No positive reinforcement for that one?” 

Chat couldn’t find it in himself to force out an answer this time. The great Ladybug, the one who leaped off buildings every day, put herself in harm’s way at any cost, protected the historic city of Paris… Chat had imagined being loved by a girl like this would be the bravest kind of love out there. 

When he was alone, and miserable, he would try to think about how Ladybug might love Chat Noir, and consequently Adrien. The image he would conjure would be of a soft, caring yet stern and attentive girl, one who wouldn’t hesitate to put him in his place but fight for every chance to keep the two of them together. 

How had he been so foolish to forget that if two parts of himself existed in Paris, two parts of Ladybug existed too? Ladybug could be shy too, she could be unconfident and unsure of herself, she could be pessimistic and clumsy. She could love naively, and not the perfect way he’d imagined she would love someone.

She could love like Marinette.

“Have I scared you?!” Ladybug’s shrill voice captured Chat’s attention again. Her expression was one of distress. “I’ve overshared, haven’t I? Now, you think I’m strange and a stalker and nothing like you imagined me to be-”

“No,” he interjected immediately. “I don’t think any of these things about you at all.”

She sighed. “You don’t have to lie, I can understand if you do. I know the guy I like probably does.”

Chat felt a new kind of a smile tugging at his cheeks. It was a miracle how he hadn’t fallen off the height they were sitting at from all the revelations he was having in his head. Instead, he just felt giddy, knowing everything he did now. “He thinks you’re charming and sweet… you go out of your way for him, even though he can’t imagine deserving that from you. Even the stumbling and tripping only shows how sincere you are. You’re a good person to be loved by Ladybug in every way… even in the way that isn’t what some might think Ladybug-like.”

Ladybug looked at him strangely. “I feel like we are suddenly having two very different conversations right now.”

That didn’t wipe the smile off Chat’s face. He couldn’t quite believe his luck. There were two parts of himself that existed out there, and two parts of her that existed out there, and all of them had still found each other. Ladybug had still found herself enamored by some part of who he was, and him some part of her.

He swallowed. Truth be told, he had found himself enamored by all parts of her. Before his feelings grew for Ladybug, the moments of tenderness he felt around Marinette seemed like a threat to his self-sworn loyalty. Now that he was here, he could finally admit it. This was a person that he loved completely.

There was no person in existence who Chat thought he would ever know completely, apart from himself. Not even Plagg, who he spent hours with, or his father, who he was in this world because of. But his belief was wrong, and there was someone in his world that crossed paths with him in every way. There was someone he found himself enchanted by in every way.

Ladybug feigned a cough. “Anyway,” she said, “we are going to pretend that I didn’t reveal all that.”

“Sure,” Chat nodded. Definitely not , he thought.

She narrowed her eyes at him. He’d been trying to disguise all that had been happening in his head at the last minute, hiding his excitement and joy at realizing what he did. But despite his best efforts, he was sure Ladybug knew him well enough to tell.

“What are you smiling about, kitty?” she said sharply.

“Nothing at all. Good weather, no crime, it’s great.”

She sighed. “You find it funny, don’t you? That what I’m describing sounds like a whole other person?”

“No. That’s just how our lives work, don’t they? Identity crisis and all, Ladybug and Chat Noir are only parts of who we are,” Chat smiled. “I still think you’re great though. That whole other person you’re describing.”

Ladybug looked at him incredulously before shaking the expression off. She cocked a brow. “So, what are you like?”

“What do you mean?”

“You asked me what I’m like when I like somebody. What are you like?”

“I tell you I love you everyday.”

She shook her head. “I mean, without the mask.”

He blinked. “It’s still you I like without the mask.”

There seemed to be a small smile playing on Ladybug’s lips at that. “What would Chat Noir be like around me if he wasn’t wearing the mask?” she said. “Just as confident?”

Chat thought about it for a while. He had a sense of confidence and freedom under the mask, all of which allowed him to be so direct to Ladybug. But as Adrien Agreste?

He barely thought himself to be good enough for her as Marinette. 

“No,” he answered honestly. “I’m daydreaming and thinking about how great you are all day. I’m telling all my friends how good of a person you are and trying to get closer, but never really being brave enough to take any step further. Nothing like you, going out of your way to confess.”

“Why would you do that?” she frowned.

“This is the best part of me,” he gestured. “Existing as Chat Noir is my best selling point. But you… you’re so special without Ladybug too.” His eyes softened as he looked at her, so beautiful in this sight. How could someone like her just… exist?

“That’s not true at all. I told you, I’m a mess on the other side. No one would think to compare me to the great Ladybug,” she said. “And I refuse to believe Chat Noir is the best part of you. I think all parts of you must be good, if you’re like this with a mask on.”

Chat blinked. “That crush of yours,” he said, feeling his hands suddenly clammy. “Do you think he’s that good?”

“What’s he got to do with this?” she laughed. “But just since you asked, yes. He is great.”

“What’s so good about him?”

She shrugged, suddenly confused. “He just is… he really tries to be. I’ve seen it so I’m sure,” she said, staring out with a determined look. “It’s just like you said about that girl you knew, how she’s so selfless that she’d be Ladybug if she had to. The boy I know, he worries and he cares so much that he’d be Chat Noir if he had to. He’d want to do better by this city, just as you do.”

Oh, Marinette . Chat felt like he could cry at her words. It was the biggest feat of his life, existing at these two vastly different people. It was a maze of adversity, navigating being his civilian self who was so loved and being Chat Noir, his purest, best self. 

Did Marinette really believe under her mask that he as Adrien matched up to Chat Noir? 

“If you think I’m all that great despite what I said about who I am when I’m not Ladybug, then you should believe the same about yourself,” Ladybug said. “You’re good, Chat Noir.”

His chest felt like it could burst with love. He had never felt more in love than he did now, existing as both Adrien and Chat Noir in the quiet.

He grinned. “Good enough for Ladybug to want to go through my trash?”

She groaned. “You ruined the moment. I absolutely regret sharing that with you, by the way and now, I want to leave,” she said, pushing herself off the ledge.

“I’ve done some pretty embarrassing things too,” he said instantly and reached for her wrist. “I stayed up a few nights to learn how to bead things together so I could make a gift for this girl I liked.”

Ladybug frowned, stilling her movement and turning slowly. “Is this that girl from your class?! You said you didn’t like her!”

“I would say I didn’t like her to every person who asked, and then try anything to talk to her,” he said. “I would spend classes arguing about how great Ladybug is, and talking about how she was my favorite person in Paris to anyone who would listen. And then, in front of everyone, I told this girl that she was just like her.”

The look of jealousy, as Chat so hopefully identified it to be, dissipated slowly from Ladybug’s face. He watched her expression transform into one of disbelief, as if she were hearing something that sounded like a familiar song from her past, though she wasn’t quite sure the melody was all the same. He imagined this is how he’d looked only a few minutes ago.

“Gave up my spot on a gaming contest because she wanted it. Told everyone it was because I didn’t really want to play anyway, but it was mostly because it was her who wanted it,” he continued, gleefully enjoying the display of shock on Ladybug’s face. “Called her specifically to fix a costume for me on a shoot, even though I had a team of designers ready. Changed plans to be inconvenient for everyone just to stop by a bakery for the off-chance to see her.”

Chat had given up being ambiguous now. He would admit, there was a kind of joy to be talking to Marinette about himself as Adrien, while they sat atop Paris as the two most important people in suits. The magic of a quiet night had brought all four people to exist as one here.

“What are you… oh my God,” Ladybug fell back to sit, her body resembling jelly as she lost control. Her eyes, wider than usual, blinked in a staggering pattern and she mumbled to herself.

“I’ve done a lot of stupid things too,” he ended. “So you’re not so alone.”

Ladybug gazed at Chat in bewilderment. Her fingers reached out ever so slightly to attempt to graze his arm. At the last second, it retreated and pinched her own skin instead.

“Adrien?” she said in a breath.

Chat grinned. He’d never liked the sound of his name more. 

“Funny meeting you here, Marinette,” he laughed. It was a new feeling to address Ladybug with that. 

Ladybug remained frozen. “This is not happening,” she mumbled to herself. “I’m asleep. I’m dreaming. This is an akumatized villain-”

“I am very much real, and not akumatized. Have some better faith in me, my lady-”

“Have you been stalking me?!” she shrieked suddenly, looking at Chat skeptically. “Did you follow me to my room, see me transform… see my Adrien posters…” she trailed off, as if another world-ending thought came to her. 

“You have posters of me?”

She gave a mean look. “Of Adrien. Not you!”

Chat chuckled uncomfortably, rubbing his nape. “That’s me… off-duty. Identity crisis, am I right?” he laughed. 

Ladybug looked unconvinced. “You are not Adrien!”

“I am!”

Ladybug’s hand frantically pointed to a sight in the distance. “That’s Adrien!” she cried out at a perfume billboard. It was so small from where he was looking that Chat had no choice but to accept that she had memorized where that billboard was from anywhere in the city. 

Chat wasn’t sure what to reply. He waited till Ladybug’s maniacal reaction had calmed down till he spoke again.

“I’m serious. I’m Adrien Agreste.”

A beat of silence passed between the two. Ladybug just stared at Chat.

Then she just burst out laughing. In a calmer tone, she said, “come on kitty, lying to get me to like you back is low for you.”

“No, I’m serious. I’m Adrien!” he crossed his arms defensively. He frowned at the amused smile on Ladybug’s face.

“If you really are Adrien, then all those stories should’ve rung a bell for you-”

“You talked to my father to let me go to New York with you, came to my house in disguise when that party happened, which, by the way, I had no part of organizing, and asked me to get you medicine from London. I didn’t know about the trash, and I still have the lucky charm. I am Adrien,” he said. “And you are Marinette.”

Ladybug blinked. “And we’re… Ladybug and Chat Noir?” 

“Looks like it,” he said with a smile.

“There were a million people you could’ve been and you’re… Adrien?” she said slowly. 

“You’re not disappointed… are you?” Chat’s lip trembled for a split-second. He worried he read the signs all wrong until he saw Ladybug look up, beaming with a warmth he’d never seen.

“Disappointed?” she laughed. “No. Not at all.”

Relief flooded him. “Good,” he said, smiling at her happiness. “Just so it wasn’t clear, you’re the classmate who Adrien can’t stop being enamored by.”

She shut her eyes tight, cringing. “Chat Noir’s the person Marinette’s made a fool of myself in front of. That’ll take me a while to understand.”

Chat Noir grinned before reaching for her hand. “I thought I was living as two different people, but I’ve gone ahead and fallen in love with the same person as both of them. Even in both lives, I found myself with you.”

Ladybug gave a small smile. “Solve any identity crisis for you?” 

Chat Noir laughed. “Definitely explains a lot,” he said. “But even if it didn’t, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“Why’s that?” Ladybug answered. Their fingertips were touching now, a small touch so shy that it was easy to pretend it wasn’t even happening. It wasn’t insignificant at all though. Right now, Chat Noir was touching not just Ladybug, but Marinette - his partner, his classmate, and the only person who understood what it meant to be so many people at once.

“Well, we have a whole lot of nights ahead of us to figure them out together,” he said with a smile. The rest of the night continued like this, with jokes and loud laughter about the strange coincidences of them, awkward moments of trying to hide identities from each other and everyone else, revealing embarrassing things they did for one another.

To any Parisian that night who would look up at the sky, they might be a lucky onlooker to the two celebrities of the city sitting atop a rooftop. But the truth would only be between the two figures up on the roof, who knew that on a quiet night like this existed something much more than Ladybug and Chat Noir.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous adrien #miraculous marinette #mlb #adrien agreste #adrien x marinette #chat noir #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fandom #ladybug x chat noir #chat noir x ladybug #ladynoir fanfic #ladynoir

[joonapeach]

and he's a goner [MLB]

summary: Adrien’s weak for girls who make him feel weak.

(Alternatively… a brief history of how strong girls turn Adrien into a simp and how Marinette ends up being one of them)

author’s note: this is more of a character-study/vibes-than-plot type of thing. but it was so fun to write and makes me smile because it’s a new style of adrien realizing his feelings for mari.

also reposted on ao3

[3k words of a fluff/humor and an alternate universe of canon divergence]

Adrien’s weak for girls who make him feel weak.

A little sadistic, he knows, but he promises it’s not as scandalous as it may sound. It’s simply the only common denominator he can find between every girl he’s ever felt pulled to.

The biggest case and point is, of course, a spotted girl in red but he’ll come back to that one in a bit. Let’s start off easy - elementary school.

Contrary to whatever his eight year old classmates might think, it was not Chloe who had him starstruck when she forced him to come up a tree in the playground that he was terrified beyond words to climb. He understands why it might’ve looked that way to the outside world when an eight year old Adrien Agreste was seen tumbling out of a tree after he heard her voice. But it was, in fact, a short cherub-cheeks dark-haired girl passing by who was the reason that Adrien to date was left with a nasty scar across his elbow.

“Hey!” the girl had yelled, peeking into the playground. “What are you making him do?!”

Chloe scoffed, turning her nose up at the intruder. This was, after all, a playground near their school and this girl - whoever she was - was a complete stranger. But that didn’t seem to scare in the slightest. She only put her hands on her hips, threw a look back at her busy parents and marched closer.

“Mind your own business,” Chloe mocked.

The girl didn’t back away. She looked more infuriated, if anything, and Adrien could only blink at her. Even he was intimidated by his childhood best friend, despite whatever weight his Agreste name carried but this girl wasn’t shaken up by Chloe, nor scared to come into a space of kids that she didn’t know.

“He’s clearly frightened to death! I saw you forcing him to climb the tree!”

“I’m not forcing him! He’s scared of heights and I’m helping him overcome his fear!”

“He doesn’t look like he wants to overcome his fear,” the girl stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Then she looked at him. “Hey, you. Did you want to climb this tree?”

No words came to his lips. Adrien could only manage to shake his head, clutching to the trunk of the high tree tighter. He was hanging for his dear life.

“See? And what about the rest of you?! Why couldn’t you stand up to her and stop her from making him climb?!” the girl went on, frowning at his classmates. They all kept their heads down, shooting apologetic glances. “What if he gets seriously hurt?! Someone should help him! He barely looks like he can come down!”

Boys in his class snickered at the last statement and Adrien knew he should’ve been retorting back to her about some false capabilities of how strong he definitely was. She was saving him but in turn embarrassing him.

Instead, he could barely manage a squeak. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so important that this girl saw him as the weakest loser on the playground getting picked on - only that she was seeing him.

Well, kind of. She was hardly looking his way, more focused on giving Chloe a scolding - probably the first scolding Chloe had ever gotten. Adrien only watched from his terrible spot in a tree at a stranger defend him, as if she’d known him forever.

No matter how bad a situation was for a stranger, no matter how much pity Adrien would feel for them, he couldn’t imagine doing what was being done for him. He was always on the receiving end of attention even at such a young age that he couldn’t picture the image of Adrien Agreste marching headfirst into trouble to save anyone.

And yet, this girl had done it.

In hindsight, Adrien thinks maybe this is where his obsession began. His obsession to be someone half as marvelous as the eight year old girl who tried to save him from a tree, his obsession to find someone as brilliant as the eight year old who put her hands on her hips and commanded a class full of kids to do better.

But back then, none of these revelations came as coherently. Instead, there were the stirrings of something warm and delicious in Adrien’s heart and - according to present-day re-tellers of this story - a dreamy smile on his face with wide eyes at his classmates being told off.

All seconds before his grip on the tree trunk loosened.

The girl noticed first. Of course she did. Her mouth gaped and he thought he heard her scream, “hey! Hold on!” but now he isn’t so sure because all he remembers is that when her eyes met his, he was falling before he knew it.

★

“Falling out of a tree because of a pretty girl,” Plagg sighs. “Just so you know, I will be omitting these parts of your life when I recount you as Chat Noir to future Chat Noirs.”

Adrien grins. “Hey, you’re the one who was curious about the first girl I had a crush on.”

“Tell me kid, why is it that you’re always the damsel in distress in these stories of your crushes?”

Adrien strikes a narcissistic pose, pressing his index finger to his nose. “Maybe because I look the part so well?”

Plagg looks unimpressed. “Yeah. I will definitely be omitting this when I talk about you.”

“I’m glad you’ll talk about me to future Chat Noirs to begin with,” Adrien only smiles. “I don’t think I’m that great a Chat Noir.”

“You’re a good one alright,” Plagg shrugs. “Plus, I have no choice but to bring you up when I talk about our current Ladybug to every new cycle of heroes,” he adds with a grin, and Adrien wonders if this expression on Plagg’s face mirrors his expression of being starstruck. “I hope every Ladybug after her can be half as good.”

Ah, yes. Girls who make him weak.

Where did Adrien stop in his story again?

After an unfortunate tumble to the ground at eight years old (and scraped elbows and a broken leg), so came an end to Adrien’s public school life. At least, till he was fourteen and met the next girl who swept him off his feet.

Except the timeline’s a little fuzzy for this one. You see, Adrien is certain that he falls for Ladybug after a wondrous speech she gives before she promises herself to Paris (and so goes his heart) but there’s a few bumps on this road. It isn’t so simple because his heart flutters sometimes and it isn’t always for her.

But even if it’s not always for her, it’s always because of her in some way. There’s a girl at school who surprises Adrien at times and occasionally, makes his head spin because her voice, her words, the way she argues with Chloe, reminds him too much of both an eight year old crush and his superhero first love.

Aside from her though, there are some other bumps on his road with Ladybug too. Ladybug isn’t like the eight year old girl on the playground, one that he sees once and feels his heart burst to never feel it again. Ladybug is a whole piece of his life.

Ladybug makes him feel weak but she also tells him he’s strong. She tells him she trusts him, no matter the awful mistakes he makes in trying to be someone who saves others and she tells him he’s a hero. Granted, she doesn’t know it’s Adrien Agreste she’s telling but… it still counts for something.

Because Adrien Agreste has never been a hero. He’s simply been the one with things given to him. He’s the one who takes and never does anything for anyone.

And here comes a girl, one who makes him feel weak and warm but believes he can save her too.

And you know what? Despite all his shortcomings and insecurities, Adrien will never tell Ladybug otherwise. Because though he’s used to being weak for her, there’s still nothing in this world he didn’t believe he couldn’t save her from.

★

Then comes the brief period Adrien has to take himself away from Ladybug - both for her sake and his.

Of course, he’s still madly in love. He follows her lead, grins when he’s wrapped in her yo-yo and she inevitably has to rescue him, works with her like a best friend. Only difference is, Adrien’s been so busy in love that he hasn’t recognized that there’s another very important part of chasing after someone. Them loving you back.

As much as Ladybug makes Adrien feel all weak and giddy, Adrien finally pulls away for a while and what do you know? He gets pulled to yet another girl who makes him feel weak.

This time, it’s a girl he knows from fencing and she even likes him back. It’s a first for Adrien, being liked back.

It goes really well for a while. Though Adrien’s heart secretly still resides in the yo-yo of a spotted superhero after being wrapped in it countless times - this is nice. Kagami is nice. He’s smitten sometimes, when he clumsily makes bad jokes and gives his hard-working brain a break from the extracurriculars to act silly. It’s his dream relationship - she’s rational and strong, and he’s just the boy who gets to chase after her. It’s what he’d always wanted with Ladybug.

But then… it turns out more hurtful than Adrien expects. When Kagami puts down his jokes or berates him for his childishness, Adrien doesn’t like feeling weak like he once did. When Kagami doesn’t hear out his sincerity or when she sees him beneath her because of how he worships her ground, Adrien suddenly feels like he’s done this all wrong.

Where did he go wrong? Did girls not like weak boys? Was showing how charmed he was going to make him a target?

His heart doesn’t flutter for her like it did for the other two girls before her and yet… it still hurts. Even when he cries, he hides none of it from Kagami and begs to stay together.

“It won’t work,” Kagami says to him softly, like it’s an apology. “I like you but… dating you isn’t like I expected. I don’t think I’m the girl you’re looking for either.”

“You are,” he says quickly. She has to be. There isn’t a plethora of girls like the eight year old girl on the playground who want to date him and… Adrien doesn’t feel for anyone else. If it isn’t Kagami, it can’t be anyone else.

“It gets tiring, Adrien,” Kagami sighs. “We’re too… different, you know? It gets tiring always having to rescue you and be the strong one.”

If it isn’t Kagami, it can’t even be Ladybug.

That’s what Adrien takes away from his first relationship and first breakup. If even Kagami couldn’t be around him, can’t put up with having to take care of Adrien in the way he wants… then Ladybug wouldn’t either.

She leaves and Adrien mopes for the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, he thinks he could take the pain of falling out of a tree just to relive an old day of his life than to be here right now.

★

While Adrien knows being Chat should technically be limited to superhero-duties, it doesn’t stop him from skipping off rooftops and helping every person in need he sees tonight.

An old lady crossing the street with trouble? Adrien jumps to bridal-carry her to her destination. A car stuck driving into a fire hydrant? Adrien uses his strength to push it away. A delivery needed to be done across the other side of the Arc de Triomphe? Adrien swiftly skips through multiple lanes without fear.

He’s no longer going to wait to be saved, no longer willing to be weak for girls who made him feel weak. The eight year old girl, Ladybug, Kagami… they’re all nothing special. Adrien is the one who made them something to marvel at in his mind.

“I’m going to be a new person from today, Plagg,” he says, standing atop a rooftop while waiting for his kwami to recharge. “You’ll have only good stories to tell about me. I’m not the damsel in distress. I’m the hero!”

“Easy there Hercules,” Plagg laughs, chewing his cheese. “One measly breakup spurring all this change?”

Adrien ignores him in favor of looking over Paris. A sight of young girls at the park catches his eye, all desperately crowding around a tree.

“Looks like there’s someone who needs help,” Adrien says. “Come on, Plagg!”

Plagg sighs. “All this and I just know you’re gonna fall in love with the next strong girl,” he grumbles before being sucked inside Adrien’s ring.

In a few moments, Adrien lands inside the park and sprints to the young girls. There’s a cat meowing in the branches and Adrien quickly understands the situation.

“How’d your cat get up there?” he asks, climbing carefully up.

“He got scared and ran up,” a girl answers. “Careful! He doesn’t like strangers.”

“Don’t worry about that. Cats are good to each other,” Adrien says with a wink before reaching for the small kitty stuck in the branches. He holds him for only a second before he slips out of his hands, back to the girls. Adrien sighs in relief, happy to help another citizen.

Until he recognizes the predicament he’s stuck in.

“Ah… haha,” he awkwardly chokes out a laugh, shooting a friendly smile to the girls. “I… I didn’t realize how high this tree was.”

The girls suddenly look mischievous. “I thought you were a cat?” says one. “Are you… scared?”

“No!” Adrien quickly rejects, though his pulse quickens when he looks at the ground. He’s used to heights by now but something about being caught so high in the branches still makes him uneasy. Please, he prays, please don’t let me fall.

“Just jump!” another girl says. “Cats always land on their feet, right?”

It takes Adrien a few seconds to realize they’re teasing him. He could beg for their help but something in their grin tells him they’re perfectly happy to watch him struggle so high. Adrien swallows.

Only such an awful thing could happen to him tonight.

“Hey,” a new voice joins the ground. In the night, Adrien has to strain his eyes to make out the new figure, an older girl towering over the young ones. “What are you doing?”

“Chat Noir’s stuck in a tree!” a young girl laughs teasingly. “He always talks so much about being a cat but look at him!”

The new girl strains her neck and that’s when Adrien’s stomach plummets. Staring up at him from the ground is no other than his classmate with her hands on her hips and a frown tugging between her brows.

“Why aren’t you helping?!” Marinette suddenly yells at the little girls. “Were you just laughing at him this whole time?”

Chat gulps. He’s heard that dominating tone from her before but it’s been a while. He’s so used to her shy, stammering self that it’s easy to forget that Marinette has this side to her. 

“We weren’t laughing! And he’s fine, he’s a superhero! Superheroes don’t need saving!”

Marinette crosses her arms with a stubborn glare. “Sometimes, they might,” she states before glancing up at him. “You okay there?”

Suddenly, Adrien’s at a loss for words. He can barely manage a squeak but it satisfies Marinette enough. She turns to the kids, now going off at them for being inconsiderate to him and Adrien’s surprised at the passion of her words. As far as he could recall, Marinette has never been such a die-hard fan of Chat and yet, here she was defending his honor as if it were her own.

He quickly fights the familiar feeling. He knows this all too well - him weak, a pretty girl strong and his heart gone. He instantly tries to block out her voice until he hears the young girls screaming back.

“We’re gonna call our moms! You can’t shout at us,” they bark at her, upset. “Wait right here!”

Marinette’s eyes widen as she watches the group of girls suddenly walk in another direction. She glances up and shoots an awkward smile, before climbing up with ease.

The world feels like a daydream till Marinette’s hands are around his torso and he’s no longer trapped in a tree but lying on the ground with her on him. In a flash of movements, she tugs him to his feet and runs out of the park with his hand in hers.

“What… what are we doing?!”

“Those girls were gonna call their moms!” Marinette says, turning her head back for only a brief second. Adrien feels the wind in his chest as the two are running on the streets of Paris, against all the people. “I’m not gonna let some rude girls get the best of us!”

After a few moments, the two halt on a bench and Marinette cranes her neck. She sighs in relief when she sees no one behind them and it’s the two of them alone now. Adrien can’t do much but stare at her. He remembers running with Marinette away from crazy fans but this situation feels far from that. For some reason, it feels like an even older memory.

He kicks his feet back and forth, sitting on the bench as Marinette stands in front of him and says, “good thing I came in time, right?”

Adrien can hear a smile in her voice and it reminds him of Ladybug. Now able to catch his breath, his bitter feelings bubble up to the surface. Marinette argued with a bunch of middle schoolers for me, he screams internally in humiliation. Why did these things always happen to him?

“I was doing fine.”

“I know that,” she says.

He looks up at her and grumbles, “I didn’t need saving.”

He intends it to be rude, to be harsh and snappy but Marinette only laughs. He feels her soft fingers ruffle his hair.

“Oh, I know that too kitty,” she grins, not at all peeved by his frustration. “You just like being saved,” she adds with a twinkle in her eye.

Adrien blinks. “That must be annoying, right?” he asks, the question coming off his lips without him intending to. The worries of the week are bottling up in him and being caught in this situation makes him feel vulnerable again. “To have to rescue someone who always likes being saved?”

Marinette smiles. Adrien worries his question is too strange and random but when he looks at her, he feels only reassurance.

“Hmm… maybe for some people,” she shrugs before bending down to his level and winking. “Lucky for you, I like saving.”

The nostalgic stirrings of something warm and delicious start in his heart. He’s sure he’s felt this before but something about this also feels new. More than anything, it feels right.

Oblivious to the chaos she’s caused his heart, Marinette stands up and brushes her trousers. All Adrien can do is stare. Stare and hope his heart calms down enough to help him find even a single coherent word to say.

He watches as she rearranges her bag and steps away. “Well, try not to get caught in any more trees,” she says, half-distracted. “I once saw a kid tumble straight out of a big one. Broke his leg too.”

Ah. Now Adrien knows why it feels right. If there were any future re-tellers of this story, he’s sure that he has the same dopey smile an eight year kid once did at falling out of a tree. He finally finds the semblance of some confidence to laugh and say to her, “m-must’ve been a stupid kid.”

Marinette laughs back, pausing in thought. “Maybe. I think he was kind of cute though,” she waves before running off. “See you around, kitty!”

Left alone, Adrien only grins like a madman on a sugar rush. He revisits his initial theory - it isn’t that he’s weak for girls who make him feel weak. It’s that there’s one girl in particular that he’s been weak for since falling out of a tree… and no matter what he does, he’s a goner every time she comes to him.

BONUS

“Is Adrien doing okay?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Marinette’s finger goes to the window of the classroom and everyone’s eyes follow. The sight is both entertaining and worrying for everyone - though for Marinette, it’s only puzzling.

“Hey Marinette!” Adrien waves excitedly with a big grin. His feet are kicking back and forth like a child on a swing, except he’s not on a swing. He’s on the highest branch of a tree, while the rest of the class looks at him in horror.

“Um… should we be doing something?” Alya cocks a brow.

Adrien suddenly points to the branch he’s sitting on energetically. “Marinette, I’m on a tree!”

“I can see that,” Marinette yells back through the window. “What are you doing there?!”

“Oh God,” Chloe mutters, peeking over Marinette’s shoulders. “The boy fell off once as a kid and now thinks he has to prove himself? Didn’t his broken leg teach him anything?” she says to herself.

Marinette’s eyes widen before turning back to Adrien. No doubt, the lovesick smile on his face is starting to look awfully familiar but it isn’t till he yells some more that she runs out. “Marinette, don’t you like saving?!” he says, still waving for her attention. “I need to be saved!”

Alya and Nino both turn to her. “What is he talking about?”

Marinette pales and she’s out the door before she has time to think of a reasonable explanation to give to her friends. Right now, there’s only one idiot on her mind to save.

“Chat Noir! Get down from that tree!” 

#miraculous #miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #miraculous adrien #mlb fanfic #mlb fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #adrien agreste #adrien x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette fanfic #adrienette #marinette #marichat #ladybug #chat noir #ml #ml fanfic #mlb #ladynoir #ladynoir fanfiction

[joonapeach]

ahh thank you for putting skylines in here :)

my favourite Kim Namjoon fics

🌱 - oneshots

🌿 - series

try again by @bangtanfancamp 🌱

the rich man's crochet club by @kpopfanfictrash 🌱

abc's of life by @dulcebangtan 🌿

silk series by @bangtanfancamp 🌿

skylines by @joonapeach 🌱

the bodyguard by @rmnamjoons 🌱

happy accidents by @sunshinerainbowsbts 🌿

forever rain by @bangtanfancamp 🌱

meeting mr. mistletoe by @kookdiaries 🌱

it's december (and i still want you) by @smoochkooks 🌱

slipping coffee by @bts-roses 🌿

ristretto by @shina913 🌿

11:44 p.m. by @stayforya 🌱

new haircut(e), who dis? by @alpacaparkaseok 🌱

unhappy holidays by @kissingnamjoon 🌱

the stick notes guy by @juwrites18 🌱

book of soulmates by @alpacaparkaseok 🌱

i believe by @namfinessed 🌱

joon and daisy by @taetaespeaches 🌿

you'll always know me by @jooniesrose 🌱

'tis the damn season by @delacyrose224 🌱

the confession by @blu-joons 🌱

bonsai by @leefics 🌱

who's counting? by @army-author 🌿

it's alright, it's love by @koorara 🌱

morning by @koorara 🌱

homework by @leefics 🌱

testing the limits by @blushedarmybunny 🌱

july kiss by @personasintro 🌱

americano by @army-author 🌱

sunday morning by @wwilloww 🌱

[joonapeach]

I Am Very Bothered by Simon Armitage

[joonapeach]

peace - taylor swift

spring day - bts

the song of achilles - madeline miller

betty - taylor swift

things that make me think of my first love

[joonapeach]

sometimes i wish i could go back and experience my first love again. even though i've loved people after them more than i ever loved them, there was still something so special about loving someone without knowing how painful parting can be

#2021 #words #thoughts

[joonapeach]

another fake netflix poster for the folk of the air series (2018-2020, holly black) from my drafts

the day there is news of a tv adaptation of tfota is the day all my problems will be solved

#tfota #tcp #twk #qon #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #jude duarte x cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar #cardan #holly black #ya fantasy #tcpedit #the wicked king #ya literature #prince cardan

[joonapeach]

a fake netflix poster for the folk of the air series (2018-2020, holly black)

(aka me manifesting that someone at netflix decides to bring judecardan to life after seeing that graphic design is my passion)

#netflix edit #fake netflix posters #tfota #the cruel prince #jude duarte #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar #cardan #jurdan #tcp #twk #qon #the folk of the air #ya books #booklr #tcpedit #tfota fanfic #jude duarte x cardan greenbriar #king of elfhame #queen of nothing #the wicked king #faerie #ya fantasy #holly black #prince cardan #yalitedit #tv series

[joonapeach]

omggg do u have more miraculous fics? Like on another blog ?

i do but i haven’t posted any of them yet! once i finish writing/editing, i’ll post them on my ao3 (here) 

#joonapeach #anons #asks

[joonapeach]

you, me & a little bit of the future [mlb]

summary: Marinette expects some disaster on her first outing alone with Adrien. She just doesn’t expect that disaster to be her future self passing off a baby for her to take care of with Adrien.

alternatively… two idiots obliviously in love cooing over their daughter while acting like they have no idea whose kid this is.

author’s note: i spent my birthday writing mlb fanfiction because that is my biggest source of serotonin. also, if you follow me for bts and have no idea wtf mlb is - first of all, sorry. second of all - give me your brain bc i really wish i could rewatch this dumb show for the first time.

also reposted on ao3

[11.2k words of a fluff/humor and time travel x accidental baby acquisition trope]

If Marinette was still breathing by the end of today… she decided that she would give her life to worshipping Alya.

The girl was a magician, maybe even an angel. There was no possible reason for Marinette to be standing here in an empty museum, waiting for Adrien to fetch a bottle of water for her and yet… here she was?

“Alya, first of all, how did you make this happen?” Marinette squeaked on the phone, looking around to make sure she was out of Adrien’s earshot. “And second of all - I don’t know if I can do this!”

Alya’s familiar laugh came through the call. “Relax, girl! Adrien wanted Nino to go inspect his new wax statue with him but of course, Nino just needed a nudge from your greatest friend in the world to give up his invitation to you.”

Scratch worshipping just Alya. If Marinette hadn’t combusted by the end of this museum outing, she would worship both Nino and Alya together.

“I love you.”

“Try to tell that to Adrien today.”

“I will,” Marinette nodded with so much excitement that it was a wonder her head didn’t spin off. “I promise. I’ll make the most of the opportunity you’ve given to me. You’re the best, Alya!”

Alya only laughed, clearly amused by her friend’s joy. “Well, good luck and tell me how it goes!” she said before cutting the call.

Marinette sighed dreamily. Alone in a museum of art with Adrien, the greatest work of art she’d ever seen… it all felt like a dream.

She paused, quickly pinching herself. The pain registered a second later and she laughed giddily. This was no dream. It really was happening.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Adrien walking towards her. A bottle of water was clutched in one hand as he waved with another. Was it possible to melt from someone’s smile? Marinette hadn’t thought it likely till she traced the curve of Adrien’s lips with her eyes just now.

“Here you go, Marinette,” he said cheerfully. He reached for her hand, putting the bottle on her palm. It was a relief that the water felt like ice to her skin because Adrien’s bare second of a touch made her scared of combusting.

“Th-thanks!”

“No problem! Thanks for coming today. I know it’s such a short notice since Nino cancelled in the morning, but I really wanted to see the wax statue with a friend,” he said softly. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Glad it’s you? How could anyone say such things to a person with that heartstopping grin and then be so oblivious to the world falling in love with them?

Marinette did her best to yelp out a semblance of a response, giving a toothy smile in the silences of the words she couldn’t find. It seemed to satisfy Adrien enough who only laughed and said, “come on!” as he dragged her through the empty museum.

Adrien’s hand. Touching mine. 

It really would be a miracle if she was still breathing by the end of today.

/

Things were going perfectly. Well, as perfectly as things could ever go in Marinette’s life.

In a total of ten minutes, their arms had brushed 13 times and he’d laughed 5 times at something she’d said. He’d given her his show-stopping, sincere smile 3 times and she’d come near to death from them 2.5 times - the 0.5 she subtracted was when she wasn’t looking and only caught sight of his grin at the very last second.

Despite the empty silence of the museum, Marinette was surprised at just how two people alone could fill the room. Of course, it helped that one of the two people was the equivalent to the worth of a country itself but still… something about the familiarity in Adrien surprised her. He’d left her speechless and lovesick but there was also a feeling in comfort in being with him.

There was only ever one other person she felt like that around.

“Hey Marinette, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick!” Adrien said, with another friendly smile she chose not to look at it too closely. When she nodded, he ran off and she stood in the empty room.

Finally, her heart could take a break from racing.

She exhaled, looking around until a sudden flash of light almost blinded her. She jumped back, ready to say the words spots on at the sight of danger till she frowned at what she heard.

“Do you ever not make this more difficult than it needs to be, kitty?!”

Marinette stilled. She recognized that voice. Yet, it was still not as familiar as the one she heard next.

“You know I can’t paws an opportunity to be entangled with you, my lady.”

The other voice scoffed. “That was terrible, even for you. Now, get off me.”

There was a certain threshold of weirdness Marinette had learned to tolerate in her time as Ladybug. Evil butterflies around the city, mini talking God-pets, monsters popping up during her Physics class… that was all fine.

Hearing her own voice repeated back to her was not. This was treading on a new kind of weird.

Marinette hesitantly stepped forward, following the voices. Behind a big column, she could hear the two bickering people. She checked on Tikki in her purse, who was fast asleep. She couldn’t wake her up for a threat she still hadn’t confirmed.

“Now… she’s bound to be here somewhere,” the voice like hers said. “Chat, can you go bring Emma through another portal?”

“That’s an awful lot of faith you have in a fifteen year old girl to say yes without even asking.”

Marinette heard the amusement in her doppelganger’s voice. “I think I’d know my fifteen year old self better than you.”

Another flash of light came and suddenly, the conversation stopped. Marinette’s heart was back to racing, this time from apprehension as she looked behind the column. 

She was certain. This was not in the threshold of weirdness she could learn to tolerate.

An older, fitter Ladybug was staring her in the face. Her raven hair was bunched in longer buns around her neck and she towered over Marinette in height. Everything about her exuded confidence and the presence of… a real superhero.

The only telltale sign Marinette could find of her being a person was the awkward, gaping smile she gave.

“Um… hi,” Ladybug said, giving a stiff wave.

Marinette blinked. Then she screamed.

Ladybug raced forward, clamping her hand over Marinette’s mouth. “Oh my God, was I always so easily frightened?” she mumbled to herself in distress. “Marinette, it’s me. I mean- it’s you. It’s you-me. Hi.”

Hesitantly, the hand over Marinette’s mouth slipped away. “What do you mean you-me?” she narrowed her eyes, an urgent distrust in her voice. “Who are you?”

Ladybug’s voice softened. “I’m you. From the future, ten years from now. I’m twenty six year old Marinette,” she grinned, fluffing her two buns. “Pretty cute, right?”

Marinette’s guard didn’t lower. She backed away slowly. “I don’t believe it. You must be an akumatized person… or a trick from Hawkmoth! What do you want with me?”

Ladybug stretched her limbs. “I can’t even blame you for being on edge. I know how tense things were when I was your age,” she mumbled.

“Hello? Who are you?” Marinette repeated. She put her hands on her hips, trying to make herself look more intimidating. “If you’re really me then you should-”

“How’s the Adrien-in-white poster project going?” Ladybug sighed, asking with a resigned shrug. “Right about now, the new spring shoots must’ve come out, right? That shot of him in the white polo by the trees is the prettiest. The green background makes his eyes pop and makes him look like an angel des-”

“Descended from heaven,” Marinette blinked, breathlessly. “Oh my God.”

“Still don’t believe me? Around last month, you broke your phone and asked for three months’ allowance to get it repaired instead of just buying a new one because you told everyone you had some design files that you forgot to back-up, when it was really just saved photos of Adrien from-”

“Okay, okay, I believe you!” Marinette cut her off, red creeping up her neck and turning her face into a bright tomato. 

Despite her embarrassment, Ladybug only smiled wistfully. She ruffled Marinette’s hair. “Sorry to crash your date, little me,” she said with a grin. “But I have a huge favor to ask.”

“A favor?”

Ladybug nodded. “Yup. Straight from the future. Your twenty six year old self kinda depends on you right now.”

Marinette squared her shoulders. “What is it?” she asked determinedly. “Is Hawkmoth still causing trouble? What do I need to do?”

Ladybug laughed, suddenly looking sheepish. “Um… it’s a little less complicated than that,” she admitted. “You see… you- I mean, me… we kind of are in the midst of a little fight against a villain in the future. It’s crazy. We’ve been fighting for two days and he still won’t let go.”

“Do you need my help?” Marinette asked with confidence. A fight in the future… she could do that. Paris was her priority in any case.

Ladybug giggled. “Well, yes. But not in fighting. You see, in between all the battles, I keep having to go home and detransform because of a little thing. A very cute, little thing. Everyone is so caught up in the chaos of the city that I’m having trouble being Ladybug and Marinette at the same time. That’s where I thought little me could come in handy?”

Marinette raised her eyebrows.

“Little Mari,” Ladybug said with an adoring smile. “How would you feel about babysitting?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. Her head turned left and right, scanning the empty museum before looking back at Ladybug. “Do I have to babysit Manon again on the only day I get to be with Adrien?”

Ladybug laughed. “Well, it’s not Manon this time. This kid’s a little younger. She’s almost one and she’s an angel. I think you’ll quite like her,” she grinned mischievously. “You see, it’s my daughter.”

Her daughter?

No words came to her mind except the phrase repeating. Her daughter.

Marinette was staring at a twenty six year old version of her, far more confident and chic than her and now, this woman had a daughter. Marinette would have a daughter in ten years. 

A wide smile broke out on her face. At sixteen, she only ever knew the kind of love she could see around her, for her parents, her friends, Adrien, for her partner… but now, one day, there’d be more to that. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“My… daughter?”

“Yup. Congrats future-mom. We’re quite a good mother if I do say so myself,” Ladybug smirked. “Though I’m pretty sure our husband is half the reason why we’re so good.”

Now, a blush spread across Marinette’s cheeks. A husband. Marinette couldn’t even imagine having a boyfriend, not with how tongue-tied she got around every boy she liked but somewhere in the future was a man she loved who loved her back. A man who was raising a child with her.

At her shell-shocked expression, Ladybug laughed affectionately. “I didn’t even tell you a thing about our daughter or husband but you look like you’re already on cloud nine. You really aren’t ready for the future yet. Good thing you have ten years to prepare.”

“Who… who is my husband?”

Now, a twinkle of amusement flashed in Ladybug’s eyes. “No cheating. All I’ll tell you is… he’s a lovely man. You love him very much. A bit embarrassingly much.” There was a hidden joke somewhere in Ladybug’s words but Marinette didn’t laugh, still too shaken by the prospect of being married with kids of her own.

“What’s… can I ask my daughter’s name?”

“I’m surprised you need to ask.”

Marinette couldn’t fight a smile. “Emma,” she laughed. “Well, I’m happy our future husband wasn’t against our suggestion.”

“Oh, he can’t refuse a single thing we say. You’ll see,” Ladybug smiled. “Well, hopefully at some point. If we manage to end the fight and keep Emma from crying all in a day’s work… so can I trust myself to take care of her?”

Marinette nodded excitedly. “Of course.”

“Thank you little Mari,” Ladybug sighed in relief. “You won’t believe how badly I needed this help.”

Was it possible to be starstruck by your own future self? Marinette felt she was hanging off every word Ladybug was saying, drawn in by the assurance and ease she spoke with. She wondered if this was how the rest of the world felt now when she spoke as Ladybug.

“Anything for you!” Marinette blinked with glittering eyes. “You must… you must be doing so well. Ten years and you’re… wow. That’s me.”

Ladybug giggled. “You’re doing well too, you know. For one, I’m glad you haven’t combusted on your date with Adrien yet.”

Marinette flushed, before blinking in shock. Adrien. “Wait! I have to tell Adrien I’ll have to cancel! So I can take Emma home while you-”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to do that. You can keep her around with him,” an entertained look passed in Ladybug’s eyes. “I think it’ll be good practice.”

“Practice for what?”

Ladybug cocked an innocent brow, suddenly distracted by her surroundings. Marinette was about to repeat the question till the familiar flash of light from earlier came again. Chat Noir came tumbling out of the portal, a baby strapped to his chest.

Marinette blinked. If she was looking at twenty six year old Ladybug then… this was twenty six year old Chat Noir.

She swallowed. The years had been- would be kind to her kitty… if she could still even call him that in the future. 

She was far too used to the flirty school boy under the name of Chat Noir but this was someone else entirely. For the first time in her life, Marinette found herself at a loss for words in his presence.

Chat’s eyes flickered from Ladybug, a glance filled with lasting adoration, to Marinette. A sudden amusement crossed his expression that Marinette had trouble deciphering. Somewhere between glee and satisfaction.

He inched closer, offering a hand to shake. “Well hello there,” he grinned before looking at Ladybug and saying, “you know, I almost forgot how adorable you were.”

Marinette squeaked. “You know who I am?”

“In the future, he does,” Ladybug reassured, poking Chat’s nose in an all-too-familiar way. “Don’t fret. He’s just playing.”

Chat looked almost offended by the statement. “I am not. I mean it sincerely. You were the cutest thing at sixteen.”

Ladybug cocked a teasing brow. “Is that really a thing to say about just a friend-”

Chat pressed a finger to Ladybug’s lips, throwing a smirk Marinette’s way. “You can’t be handing out spoilers like that for your mini-self. Look how innocent she is. We can’t deprive mini Chat Noir of the satisfaction when it all comes out in the open.”

Ladybug scoffed. “This is why I didn’t want you to accompany me. You’re just getting a kick out of seeing me like this, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me? It’s hard to keep a straight face when I now know what’s really going on in the sixteen year old pretty princess’ brain,” he said with a wink.

Marinette’s heart faltered at the display of adoration and comfort between the two future selves of her and her partner. She and Chat were always close but this… this was new. The doting expression in Chat’s eyes when he looked at Ladybug wasn’t new but the reciprocated devotion in her own future self’s eyes was.

He was still in love with her, ten years later - that was easy to tell. But she wondered how to interpret the feeling that made her feel like suddenly, she was too.

Ladybug reached for Chat’s chest, unwrapping a small sleeping baby from the blankets. Ladybug pressed a loving kiss on the baby’s forehead before looking at Marinette. The two shared a silent smile.

Gently, the baby was placed in Marinette’s arms. Her heart paced at the weight of a life cradling against her chest. 

A sudden anxiousness pooled her thoughts. “Can I… do you really think it’s the best idea to give your kid to me?”

Chat was the one to answer. “It’s your kid too, Marinette.”

Her name, her real name, off his lips made her shiver. There was a future in which he called her by that. It sounded so pleasant to her ears that she almost wished that that future could be now.

“But… you know what I mean! Not sixteen year old, clumsy me! It’s your kid. The me who’s put together and… you know, can actually handle walking with a child and not tripping over air and-”

Chat’s laugh broke her rant. “The fact that you think you’re any less clumsy ten years in the future is adorable. I don’t think you’ll ever recover from that.”

“Chat! I’m right here!” Ladybug poked the tall, towering kitten away before turning to Marinette. “You’ll be fine. I promise. You can trust your future self’s judgment, can’t you?”

Marinette swallowed, glancing down at the girl in her arms. For the first time, she looked carefully at the daughter she would one day hold for the rest of her life. She was a beautiful sight. Her cherub cheeks stuck out in her sleep and strands of dark, midnight hair just like Marinette’s covered her face. She wondered whether her eyes were blue too, just like hers.

Marinette smiled. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

Ladybug grinned, giving a squeeze to Marinette’s shoulder. “I owe you. Well, technically I don’t because future-you has a lot of good in store that current-you would never believe. But thanks,” she laughed. With ease, her hand slipped into Chat Noir’s as she walked away with a wave.

Marinette’s eyes zeroed in on the sight. At the last second, Chat Noir glanced back at her and a strange feeling leapt through her heart. He smiled. “Don’t worry Marinette. You’re a natural mother.”

The two disappeared in another flash too quick for Marinette to notice. She blinked, thinking of the words Chat had left her with and the intertwined hands… what ever was in store for her future with Chat? Surely… surely, what she was suspecting couldn’t be-

In her arms, the baby moved. Marinette stilled, glancing at her daughter as she woke from her nap. Her arms stretched and she showed a warm smile as soon as she looked up at Marinette. Emma.

“Maman,” Emma said happily. Marinette had never thought she’d find a word she loved the sound of more than Adrien. Now she had.

When she stared at her daughter, she memorized every small feature. This time, she got to see her eyes, wide and awake. While Emma had Marinette’s dark hair, her eyes were a deep shade of green.

/

Adrien had never considered himself a narcissist. But looking at the broad, tall body of his future self was making him reconsider his stance.

“Plagg. Are you seeing this? I’m so cool,” Adrien grinned excitedly, staring at the Chat Noir in front of him. “This is the best day ever.”

Chat grumbled, hiding his face with a few fingers. Even his fingers were big enough to cover his face. Adrien blinked at what ten years was going to do to him. Despite his title of a model, he hated to indulge in complimenting himself but at this second… he could only say that there was no way Ladybug could reject his twenty six year old self. Adrien grinned with the thought. He could wait ten years to woo his lady if this was the payoff.

“Can you listen, kid?” Chat sighed. “I don’t have much time to give you a pep talk before Ladybug starts panicking at why I’m not back yet,” he mumbled to himself.

Adrien could only laugh, still on a high. “You’re me! From the future!”

Plagg’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of diet plan is future-you on?”

“I don’t know, but isn’t it amazing?!” Adrien said with a grin. “Why are you here? Wait… you’re here to give me a message, aren’t you?”

Chat took a few seconds to stare his younger self in the face. Adrien wondered why it looked like he was on the verge of exasperation. “I wish I could give you ten messages. But even then, I don’t know if it’ll help your hopeless case,” Chat said with a snicker.

Adrien’s mouth dropped. “Plagg… is my future-self bullying me right now?”

Plagg shrugged. “I have no objections.”

“Listen,” a hand clamped down Adrien’s shoulder. Adrien squeaked an inhumane sound at the grip of his future self’s hand. “You know that girl you have a crush on?”

“Ladybug,” Adrien nodded with a lovesick smile.

Chat’s lips tightened into a thin line, unamused. “This is gonna be harder than I thought,” he sighed. “Was I really this oblivious?” he mumbled to Plagg, completely ignoring Adrien’s distraught confusion.

Plagg laughed. “Oh, this isn’t being oblivious. This is just denying the truth. You love acting like you have no idea. I hope you’re a bit better in the future, for my mental health’s sake.”

“Plagg, shouldn’t you be siding with the version of me that actually belongs in your time?!” Adrien whined. “What’s this about?”

Plagg and Chat shared a look. Chat fought a small smile before trying again. “Alright buddy. See, in a few minutes, I’m gonna head back to the future - we’re in the middle of an epic fight, you’d love it - and I’ve left my daughter to babysat by you. It won’t be too long… maybe three hours. Actually, make it four. I should take my wife out on a date after and thank her for putting up with me despite how stupid I was at sixteen. Can you manage four hours?”

Adrien gulped. In just one sentence alone, words like ‘wife’, ‘daughter’ and ‘future’ had left his mind in shock. He wasn’t sure which part to start with, when so much information had been thrown his way in a moment’s breath.

“I’m married?!”

Chat grinned proudly. “Happily.”

Adrien’s eyes brightened. “Am I married to Ladybug?”

Chat’s smile grew with delight. “Even better,” he sighed dreamily. “You’re married to the girl you have a crush on.”

“That’s Ladybug!” Adrien spluttered excitedly.

Chat sighed, part in amusement and part in resignation. “Even if I spelled it out for you, there really is no hope,” he mumbled. “But anyway. Just make sure Emma stays safe, okay? We’ll be back soon so there shouldn’t be any trouble. Not with Marinette taking care of her anyway.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Marinette? You’re giving her to Marinette?” he coughed out the question. “But she’s my daughter!”

Chat bit the inside of his cheek to fight a smile. “Well, that’s all the message I wanna give. Marinette’s going to be outside with a beautiful little girl and you just have to babysit for a short while. Whatever Marinette says, listen to her, okay? She knows best.”

Chat turned but Adrien quickly grabbed at the man’s hand. Was that rock he was gripping or really a human’s body under a suit?

“What?”

“Well… that can’t be all. There’s so much I have to know!” Adrien blinked innocently. “Like… does Ladybug end up being my first girlfriend? How long do I wait to propose to her, because honestly, I think I’d propose as soon as I’m eighteen, and am I a good dad? Do I quit modelling? And what the hell do I eat to become as buff as you?”

Chat hid the growing smile on his face. He gave a finger salute to Plagg before turning to open a portal. With one leg through the flashing light, Adrien yelled out in haste, “aren’t you gonna give your younger self any advice?!”

Chat laughed, looking back for only one last second. “How about you just try to figure out who’s the girl you have a crush on first, buddy?”

/

Maybe Marinette was a natural mother. It would explain why she was already ready to give her life for a girl she’d only known for minutes now.

At sixteen, Marinette was always sure she wanted kids but that dream always used to be a small piece of her bigger dream with Adrien. Her dream of kids and a hamster and a house in the South of France for them to retire together. Now with a glimpse into the future, her own plans didn’t look like they needed to be so small anymore.

Her future self hadn’t mentioned Adrien at all, apart from just casual teasing. What did that mean?

“What do you think, Emma?” Marinette cooed at the girl in her arms. “She didn’t seem to care much about Adrien but she was looking at Chat like he was her whole world… does that mean my future self isn’t in love with Adrien anymore?”

“Maman,” Emma said in response with a smile. Marinette’s heart softened.

She chewed on her lip in thought. She was holding a child she would eventually have with a man she’d call her husband… and unlike her sixteen year old self’s aspirations, her twenty six year old self hadn’t mentioned anything of Adrien being that man.

Was Marinette missing something? Was Adrien really not the boy for her?

But… her heart belonged to him, she was sure of it. There was no wedding, no kids, no house she could picture that didn’t have him in some way.

Marinette remembered how Ladybug’s touch lingered on Chat’s body, almost too fondly and affectionately to be considered the same as the relationship present-day Ladybug and Chat had. Like an ice-cold realization being dumped over her, Marinette froze.

“Oh my God Emma,” she said breathlessly. “I end up with Chat Noir.”

Emma giggled, mumbling something that Marinette chose to interpret as affirmation. Unable to stay stoic from Emma’s adorable smile, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“Oh my God,” she repeated. “That sneaky kitty… he must’ve done something. Did you see how future Maman was looking at him, Emma? She was saying his teasing was annoying but then she was touching him every chance she got… am I going to be like that? Me and… my Chat Noir? Is he going to be my…”

Marinette couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Fate truly had a twisted turn if she eventually gave into Chat’s wooing and was just as lovesick for him as he was for her. The thought made her giggle but her heart fluttered.

“He’s gonna have a field day with this one, little Emma. If he finds out I met our married versions, he might die of excitement before we get there,” Marinette laughed, brushing Emma’s hair from her face. “I wonder what it is about Chat that makes me finally fall in love.”

Marinette cradled the baby girl close to her, letting herself indulge in the guilty thoughts of love she would usually shut off for her loyalty to Adrien. “You know what the crazy part is, Emma? Little Maman doesn’t even have a problem with any of this. It would’ve been nice if it was Adrien but… I think I get it now. Adrien’s a crush but to really be with someone, I would want it to be my other half.”

Marinette sighed. Were her feelings so fickle? Suddenly, her heart was warm with the thought of a friend she never once considered before. It felt less like two years of feelings for Adrien had dissipated but two years of feelings for Chat Noir had come to the surface after seeing her daughter.

“What do you think, Emma? Is Chat a good papa?” Marinette giggled, joking with her daughter who only nuzzled into Marinette’s chest. She held her tighter, only turning around when she heard her name called.

“Marinette!”

The smile on Adrien’s face was so blinding that Marinette almost had to step back. The boy was definitely not this happy when he’d ran off to the bathroom.

Their eyes met and Marinette flushed from the sheer joy in his smile. He looked down, his gaze landing upon Emma.

“Oh! Adrien- um- this is… well, it’s a bit tough to explain. You see, I kind of just got asked by my… my aunt! My aunt came and dropped off my daughter- her daughter. My niece! She’s a bit busy so I just have to keep an eye out for her for a few hours and… you don’t mind, do you?”

Marinette watched Adrien’s eyes carefully for a flicker of annoyance at the sudden responsibility. She could only find warmth.

Surely, a boy couldn’t be this happy from having to babysit someone else’s kid?

He inched closer, giving a soft smile to Emma. For a second, Marinette forgot how to breathe. The sight of her first love and her first daughter meeting made her forget words.

“What’s her name?”

“Emma,” Marinette answered softly. Emma reached out for Adrien almost instantly, ready to be carried by him even at first glance. The familiarity she held for Adrien almost worried her when she remembered that there was a strong chance that Adrien and her remained friends in the future… Emma was likely recognizing her Uncle Adrien from another time.

“Can I hold her?” he asked hesitantly and Marinette nodded with a smile.

Adrien cradled the girl to his chest with a gentleness Marinette didn’t expect. It was hard enough seeing Adrien so out of reach every single day of her life but seeing him hold her daughter almost like… like she was his…

Marinette gulped painfully.

The future was beautiful and kind, but there wouldn’t be this. There wouldn’t be a beautiful, young man who got to be Marinette’s first love yet also hold the title of her daughter’s father. Still, she smiled. She had ten years to come to terms with it.

“Hello Emma,” Adrien laughed, a soft finger touching her cheeks. “You probably don’t know me yet but… I’m going to do everything I can to take care of you for as long as I can,” he grinned, almost too fatherly for Marinette’s comfort.

“Papa,” Emma said with a giggle.

Marinette’s heart squeezed. She didn’t blame little Emma for her confusion - Adrien did share the same hair and eyes as Chat that it might’ve thrown off the little girl. But she didn’t correct her daughter. She had a lifetime of parenting to do with her partner, so she’d let herself have today to pretend that it could’ve been her first love.

As she walked away in the museum, Adrien trailed behind with Emma in his arms. He said something to the little girl that Marinette didn’t quite catch fully. It sounded an awful lot like, “yes, Emma. It’s your papa,” but Marinette laughed. Her wishful thinking deluded her too much for her own good sometimes.

/

At sixteen, Adrien knew he was nowhere ready to be a father. He could hardly understand what it meant to be a good son, to be enough to earn the affections of his own father, to be able to start thinking about how to be a good father.

And yet… was it supposed to be this easy?

Adrien was scared his daughter would repulse at the first sight of him but she came willingly into his arms. She rested with ease, her eyes widened at everything around her - eyes he noticed looked an awful lot like his mother’s -  and she laughed at the lame jokes he whispered in her ear, despite not understanding a word.

The apprehension Adrien felt in his chest was gone. This was slowly becoming the best day he’d had in a while.

Just as Emma kept calling him Papa, she called out for Marinette as Maman. At first, Marinette’s face paled when she saw Adrien hear it.

“Oh… uh, my niece, she… well, I look a lot like my aunt, haha! So, you know… she gets us mixed up. That’s probably why she calls you Papa too. You look an awful lot like her father. He’s got the… the same blond hair. And eyes. Even the smile at times,” Marinette blinked, her words trailing off.

Adrien only smiled. His eyes flickered between his daughter and Marinette. Her hair was exactly like Ladybug’s, smooth and dark like the night but it was also just like Marinette’s. He could tell what spurred his daughter’s confusion.

Yet, he still wondered… Why was Marinette the one who his future self had entrusted Emma to? Was it a decision that future Ladybug - his wife! - and his future self made together? Adrien chewed on his lip, unable to answer the question.

What had Chat Noir said before bolting for the future? Marinette knows best?

Adrien glanced at Marinette, the softness in her eyes when she looked at Emma and thought Adrien wasn’t looking. With the gentleness with which she cared for Emma in just a few moments, Adrien couldn’t deny that he had no problem trusting his daughter to her either. Marinette was always kind and there wasn’t a person in the world he thought higher of. 

Except for Ladybug. But it really couldn’t get better than that.

“So what should we do now?” Adrien asked. “We checked out my wax statue so that’s done.”

“Well… I guess I should take Emma home. My aunt will be back after a few hours and I’m sure you have things to do so-”

When Marinette came to take Emma from Adrien’s arms, he backed away protectively. She blinked, frowning at his behavior.

“Adrien?”

“Uh… Sorry. I’m a little attached to her,” he forced a laugh. Glancing back at his daughter, he smiled. Chat Noir had said that she’d be his for four hours so why would Adrien have to give her up now?

His lips tightened. As trustworthy as Marinette was, was it fair to give babysitting privileges to her rather than Emma’s father? Did future Ladybug trust an old friend more than she trusted her own young husband?

At that second, Emma burst into sudden tears. Adrien blinked, taken aback by the shrieking sound but before he could do anything, Marinette swooped in and took Emma in her arms. She wrapped her arms around the girl softly, moving her as gently as the wind and whispering quiet words in her ears.

How was Marinette so… natural at this?

He could see just why Marinette was the right choice to babysit, with her soft heart and tender touch and yet… the thought still stung. Ladybug was his wife in the future but she thought more of a friend than she did of him, despite all his love?

How was the future Chat Noir so content with this? Adrien frowned, revisiting every word Chat had said in their short conversation to scrutinize it. His future self hadn’t had any problem with Marinette either - he’d told Adrien to willingly let Marinette handle it all. 

When he spoke of his wife, he wore a smile that made Adrien think the future was perfect but surely, this was not the perfect he settled for. His future self had said he was happily married but in what world did a father have less right to his child than a friend of his wife’s?

A bitter taste crawled up Adrien’s mouth. He looked at his daughter to find some peace but when he did, all he could see was Marinette grinning and spinning the girl around. Emma now smiled, looking at Marinette with so much love in her eyes that Adrien wasn’t sure what to think next.

His wife… Chat had never said it was Ladybug. Perhaps Ladybug had dropped off his daughter in the past but Chat had never said it was his daughter with Ladybug. All he’d said was that he was happily married, to a girl even better than Ladybug, and to follow Marinette.

Adrien swallowed. Marinette brushed Emma against her cheek and laughed with a sound worth the brightness of a thousand suns. There was no girl on Earth who held that much love in her heart for a stranger’s baby. Not even Marinette, for all her goodness, could conjure up so much affection for a child she didn’t know.

A stirring feeling shook Adrien’s heart. Pretty Marinette, kind Marinette, Marinette with the shyness of a school-girl but the heart of an everyday superhero, Marinette with the passion of a youthful girl but the love of a woman who’d lived a long life… Marinette, the girl he’d buried his feelings for, for the fear he’d never be good enough to earn her affections back.

That Marinette… She was his future wife.

The smile that spread on Adrien’s face made him look like a fool, but he knew now that he was the same lovesick fool as the future Chat. This right here, in the comfort of the space between Marinette and him, and the daughter they’d one day have, was his family. He would find a family in this girl.

He had already found a family in her. Future Chat knew well enough, telling him to open his eyes and figure out the girl he had a crush on. Of course, Ladybug was his first love, built on admiration and respect, but Marinette was his future. She was the girl he’d become worthy of and the girl who’d give him a home after all his searching.

He blinked back the stinging feeling of tears. When he walked closer to Marinette and Emma, he smiled and rested his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Hey Marinette,” he whispered gently, so not to distract her from their daughter. “Is it okay if I babysit Emma with you today?”

“Hm?” Marinette raised her eyebrows. Adrien fought the urge to brush down her forehead to smooth the crease. She smiled with a welcoming glance. “Of course you can Adrien.”

He grinned. “I guess we can go get ice cream. What do you think about that, little Emma?”

The girl only clapped, excited to see her two mini-parents together again. When she called Marinette Maman again, Adrien couldn’t hide his smile. 

/

Whatever it was Adrien was doing to both her heart, and Emma’s, Marinette wished he would stop.

It was hard enough in the simple moments of Adrien carrying Emma and Emma calling him Papa, but now Adrien was doing even more to seemingly fit in the gaps of her life that belonged to Chat Noir.

For one, his smiles were becoming far too frequent and brightening for her. She started the day off at the museum by counting every time he laughed and grinned at her but now, it was an endless supply that she lost track of. 

Not to mention… the hand holding.

Was Marinette truly counting the times their hands had brushed this morning? Because now, Adrien left no steps unturned to hold her hand in the streets of Paris. The three of them went around the city, stopping at little monuments and pretty spring sceneries, all together. It was too much like a family for Marinette to handle.

This was her future family and Adrien was creeping in. He was taking selfies of the three of them at every turn, spending money at random stalls for jewelry and snacks for Emma and he was even… blushing around Marinette?

“Here,” Adrien coughed, looking up at the distracting view of an empty sky. His hand was holding out a small box. “It’s for you.”

Marinette frowned, taking the box. Adrien was no stranger to giving gifts but Marinette was a stranger to the blushing, nervous delivery with which he handed her this gift. Inside was a small necklace with a flower charm on it.

“I just got it from the stall so it’s nothing spectacular, I know,” he laughed awkwardly. “But just to remember today. And I promise, I’ll get you a lot more great things in the future.”

“Oh Adrien, it’s lovely. You didn’t have to get me anything at all,” she blinked. For the sake of her racing heart, she chose to ignore the promise he attached at the end.

Adrien only gave a smile. When the three of them sat down at the bench near Andre’s ice cream stall, Marinette could only cry for relief from the relaxation.

“Wow. Carrying a baby across the city is more of a workout than I thought it’d be,” Marinette sighed. “Kids are a lot of work.”

Adrien nodded, taking Emma from Marinette’s arms. “Well, you don’t need to worry Marinette,” he smiled. “I think you’re a natural mother.”

Marinette’s breath hitched in her throat. The weight of Adrien’s words hung in the air and if she inhaled, she knew she would feel the effect of them crashing against her lungs.

Was today supposed to feel like a goodbye? Was it the reason that Emma appeared today, of all days? To guide her to Chat Noir… and to give her words from Adrien that she would carry forever?

Adrien thought she was a natural mother. It meant one thing to hear it from the man you’d marry but another thing to hear it from your first love. Marinette couldn’t help her heart from singing, from the thought that Adrien saw her so highly. 

“Marinette?”

“Huh?” Marinette blinked.

Adrien laughed, brushing his hair from his face. “Oh, I was just saying… aren’t you glad there’s a long time till we have kids?” he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Absolutely. I’m going to spend a good long while enjoying being sixteen,” Marinette smiled, biting the inside of her cheek. “But then… I think I’m also excited. To work towards getting married.”

Adrien blinked, suddenly flustered. “Do you… do you already have someone in mind?”

Marinette laughed. She was glad Chat could never hear the words she was about to confess to Adrien. Although maybe one day, when the two of them were married and in-between battles, she might confess that she realized she was in love with him on the first date with the guy she’d rejected him all this time for.

“Yup,” Marinette said with a smile, thinking of the kitty’s wide eyes and dramatic flair for romance. “I’m going to marry my best friend.”

Adrien coughed and Marinette noticed the tips of his ears turning red. “Wow… that’s… that’s really sweet, Marinette,” he said, fighting a smile off his lips.

“I know. We’ve gone through so much together that I think that the rest of our lives together will be a fun ride,” Marinette laughed. Before Adrien could reply, Emma suddenly began wailing, mumbling for an ice cream.

“Oh, I’ll take her,” Adrien said with a charming smile. “You should rest after carrying her all day.”

“No, Adrien, it’s fine-”

“We’re babysitting together. Let me handle it,” he said, pushing her gently down. Marinette didn’t protest any further, watching Adrien carry Emma down the bridge to Andre’s.

She was sure he’d make a great father one day. While it was a shame it couldn’t be to her kids, Marinette still smiled at the thought that somewhere in the future, Adrien would be there with her.

/

Adrien pinched his nose.

How the hell did future Chat battle villains with a daughter? Did he leave her alone with Marinette and run off? Did Marinette know about her husband’s crime-fighting identity? Adrien had a million thoughts running through his mind as he stared up at the blob of a monster, terrorizing the city.

He was certain there wasn’t much that could be done. If he were a little smarter, like his future self, he’d pass off the responsibility of his daughter to someone he could trust. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option today.

Adrien searched the racing crowds desperately for Marinette, looking for any sign of her. For the first time, fear struck him cold at the thought of her safety. She wasn’t far from where the monster had appeared from… would she be okay?

Adrien shook the thought. She was strong. He was sure she’d be fine, wherever she was but… if only she were in sight. He hadn’t quite crossed the bridge with his wife-to-be about his secret identity but now he desperately needed Emma’s mother to handle her while he transformed.

“Papa,” Emma said, blinking.

“I know, Emma. I don’t know where Maman is… do you think Marinette would eat me alive if she saw Chat Noir fighting an akuma while holding her baby daughter?”

“Adrien, you’re worrying about the wrong Marinette. Do you really want to be on the end of future-you’s punch if anything happened to his daughter?” Plagg piped up.

“Hey! She’s my daughter too.”

“She’s his daughter. You’ve been too oblivious and stupid to deserve such a cute kid,” Plagg grumbled, flying around Emma with a kind of affection that Adrien had never seen from his kwami before. “Wow, she really looks like you.”

“And Marinette. She looks like Marinette too.”

“A little less oblivious now, are we?”

“Plagg, please. Back to the problem. What do we do?”

Plagg sighed. “Well… what else is there to do? Ladybug’s already out there fighting the akuma, Marinette’s nowhere in sight and you’ve got a daughter you can’t leave in the middle of a Paris alley. I’ll let your suit wrap her around your chest… just don’t bring me in the wrath of future Ladybug and future Chat Noir when they ask why Emma is covered in akuma goo.”

Adrien buried his hands in his hair. There was no wonder his future self was far more blindly trusting of Marinette. Marinette would be taking care of their daughter, far from akumas and danger and Adrien… Adrien was here, taking her into battle with them.

“Well?”

“I don’t want to hurt Marinette. I love Emma but…” Adrien cast a glance to the akumatized victim. “I can’t let my lady down. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“For the record, I had nothing to say or do with this decision, I am a mere bystander-”

“Plagg, claws out!”

/

Trust Chat Noir to make the day Marinette was ready to give her heart to him as Ladybug the only day he arrived at an akuma fight ten minutes late.

“Took you long enough!” Marinette yelled as she bounced back on the ground from the akumatized victim’s shot of what seemed like jelly goo. “The akuma’s in his stick by the way!”

Chat nervously laughed, giving a hand to Marinette on the ground. “Um… my lady, I know we always fight as a duo but would you be opposed to an adorable sidekick today?”

“What are you talking ab- OH MY GOD! Chat, what the hell is she doing with you?!”

“Well, you see, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything-”

“Why is she with you?!” Marinette bellowed, trying to take her poor daughter from the strapped blankets around Chat’s chest. The grip of the straps was far too tight though. Marinette could almost cry. When she’d said she wanted to see her Chat look more like the Chat from the future, she’d meant his height or big build… not in the way they both appeared with her daughter strapped to their chest in danger.

“Look, my lady, listen, I couldn’t leave her in the streets! She has a better chance of being protected like this than if I’d leave her on a bench somewhere!”

“Why couldn’t you leave her with Adrien?!”

“Papa?”

“Not now, Emma!”

Chat blinked. “How do you know her name?” he said slowly. “And how do you know she was with Adrien? Oh my God, did future Chat Noir pay a visit to you too?!”

Marinette buried her face into her palms. Was he really the partner she was supposed to raise Emma with? She was glad that there were years to go before the two of them would reach that burden because right now, she was almost guiltily wishing fate had been kinder to her and put her in Adrien’s path instead.

“Chat, now is not the time! Please! We need to break the akuma and figure out how to keep Emma safe. Please just… just be safe with her, okay?”

Chat nodded, blinking. “Of course I will. She is my daughter after all,” he said with a smile down at Emma. His black-leather clad gloves gently caressed the girl’s cheek, careful of his sharp claws.

Marinette stilled. So wrapped up in the chaos, she forgot she was witnessing the sight of her daughter with the man she’d one day call her husband.

In her mind, Chat Noir had always been a little bit of a child himself, chasing after love and thrill like a lost boy. There were countless times she doubted his sincerity in his fluttering feelings for her.

And yet… Now, when she looked at him, none of that doubt was there. All she saw was a boy with radiating love in his eyes, a gentle heart, one that had been begging for her to be careful with him all this time because his affection was never insincere. It was just that he had so much to give.

Marinette blinked back the pooling tears in her eyes. He looked at Emma with so much love and when his eyes came to her, his gaze only softened.

“Are you crying?” he asked, puzzled. 

Marinette quickly wiped the tears away under her mask. Now was not the time. “You… you’re gonna be a great father one day, kitty,” she settled for saying, running away towards the akuma without a glance back. Though he was out of earshot, Marinette still let herself say to the world, “I’m so glad you’re going to be the one for my kids.”

/

Adrien was fighting an akuma, with his future daughter wrapped to his chest, and his future wife somewhere out there in Paris. And first love had just told him that he was going to be a great father out of the blue.

Were all of the world’s gifts being given to him today?

“Chat, the light pole! If you cataclysm it, we can trap him!”

Adrien blinked, looking up. “Um… my lady, I would never be opposed to anything you suggest except- I don’t wanna give Emma vertigo by climbing all the way up there!”

Ladybug sighed. “Well, it’s not ideal to bring a daughter along in an akuma fight. For now, I’ll hold onto her while you go!” she said before mumbling, “we better find a way around this when the time comes. I might kill you if you bring Emma along into a fight in the future.” 

In a quick swap, Adrien was now watching Ladybug cradle his daughter to her chest. His first love and his future daughter. He hated how his heart fluttered.

Before today, it was her he wanted to be a husband for. He dreamed of holding their children, of living together and growing old by each other’s side… Adrien hoped that the part of him that clung to that fantasy would go away soon.

He feigned a laugh. “Of course I won’t. I’ll leave her at home with my wife.”

Ladybug stilled, and amongst the chaos of Paris behind her, he could see her body freeze. Suddenly, she was glaring at him. “Like hell you will!” she pompously snapped. “You should be the one staying home taking care of her!”

Adrien blinked. “Then who will save Paris?!”

Adrien didn’t know what he was doing that only seemed to flame Ladybug’s temper. “I’m the one who purifies akumas anyway! You should be the one taking care of the kid!”

“I- I don’t understand!” Adrien threw his hands up in the air. The sudden argument between him and Ladybug made him feel like they were having a lover’s spat, but he tried not to dwell on that thought. “Why couldn’t my wife just take care of Emma while I’m out here?”

“Chat, if this is how you plan to be in the future, I swear I will make sure there is no Emma!” Ladybug argued. “I am not staying home to babysit Emma while you get to fight!”

“No one said anything about you having to babysit! You can fight!”

“You said you’ll leave Emma alone at home with your wife!”

“Yes! My wife!”

Ladybug blinked in confusion. “Well, your wife doesn’t want to stay home to babysit!”

Adrien buried his face in his hands. The city would burn to the ground at this rate, while he would still be stuck in a conversation he did not understand. He watched Emma’s eyes go from Ladybug to his as if she were lost on who to listen to.

“I don’t see why Marinette would have any problems taking care of Emma,” Adrien sighed exasperatedly. His body instantly froze after saying the words.

He’d just told the name of his future wife to a partner who had no idea about his identity… Adrien’s throat dried up. Had he just fucked up everything?

He swallowed, risking a glance at Ladybug. She mirrored his expression of shock and he mentally braced himself for the scolding of his life from her.

“You… you- did future Chat go and tell you my name?!” she groaned, shaking with a frightening temper. “I thought that was off limits! Future Ladybug didn’t even tell me anything about you! I had to figure it out all on my own that we were going to get married!”

Adrien stilled. Whatever confusion he was facing before, it only seemed to get worse now.

“M- married?” he sputtered out, suddenly coughing. His head echoed the chaos ensuing in the city around him. The logical part of his brain told him to get back to work, save Paris… every other part of him told him that he was stepping on unchartered territory right now with Ladybug and he shouldn’t dare move.

“This is a mess. Emma, did we mess everything up?” Ladybug mumbled, looking down at his daughter.

“Ladybug… wait, I think- I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Adrien cut in, awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck. “I’m… I’m going to marry Marinette.”

Ladybug blinked at him as if waiting for him to say something more. For a moment, only silence passed between the two. They both seemed to be waiting for the other to finish their unfinished words.

It was in this silence that Emma’s voice became the loudest. She looked up at Ladybug, laughing and reaching for her dark hair to grab. “Maman.”

Adrien glanced between his daughter’s familiar gaze at his first love and his first love’s hair that looked an awful lot like his future wife’s. Despite the tense atmosphere, Ladybug still smiled softly at his daughter as she continued to call out for Maman.

Adrien burst out laughing. Maybe he’d be a great father one day. But he sure as hell wouldn’t stop being an idiot.

/

Chat would make a very strange husband, Marinette decided. One second, he was yelling at her that she would have to stay home to take care of Emma and the next, after a very visible mental breakdown of laughter, he was back on his game.

Once the two of them had gotten past the weird argument, it took only a few minutes for Paris to return to normal and a little butterfly to fly away, harmless and pure. All in a day’s work… with a baby wrapped around her chest.

“Sorry little Emma,” Marinette sighed, rubbing her suit-covered fingers over her daughter’s cheek. “Maman took you into a fight. You must’ve been so scared.”

Emma only giggled. 

“Well, you don’t really need to be scared. We’re just kids right now, but I promise once you come, Maman will be an even better superhero. And Papa too… if he ever sorts his head out. We’ll be good parents,” Marinette blushed before adding, “we’ll be a good husband and wife too, don’t you think?”

Marinette couldn't get sick of the bright, green eyes of her daughter. They really were beautiful.

Behind her, she heard Chat Noir’s feet land on the ground. He mumbled pleasant greetings to the Parisians walking by before coming to her.

“So,” he began. A new kind of smile Marinette had never seen before was playing on his lips. “Crime-fighting husband and wife?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. There it was. The smugness she knew she’d have to handle from the second she realized that the man she ended up with was Chat Noir. “This just sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

His glee was painted across his face. He couldn’t stop grinning. “On the contrary, I think it’ll be quite the dream. You, me, our kwamis and our little kids. Aren’t you glad future-you finally decides to fall for me and have that life?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t sound like much is in it for me.”

Chat fought a cocky grin. “Well, you get a piece of twenty-six-year-old Chat Noir and I think you’d quite like him, my lady.”

Marinette had to hide her flushing cheeks by looking down at Emma. “I’m stuck with sixteen-year-old you right now. Let’s start one step at a time, okay?” Marinette mumbled. “We have a long way to go before we become good parents.”

Chat laughed. “Me maybe. But you’re a natural mother, bugaboo. You’ll be great.”

Marinette giggled. What was that her future self had said? That she’d be a good mother, but her husband was half the reason why. She wouldn’t tell Chat that now, but she was starting to think it might be true. He’d done something risky today but he had her back as always.

In unison, both of their Miraculouses beeped, reminding them of their time limits. 

“Oh! Gotta go,” Chat glanced at his ring before looking up at Emma. “Will you be able to handle her?”

Marinette smiled. “Papa’s done enough,” she teased, poking him away. “I’ll be fine.”

Chat laughed, pressing a kiss onto Emma’s forehead. “See you when I see you, little bug,” he whispered to the happy baby before looking at Marinette with a mischievous smile. Marinette almost jumped from the sneaky kiss he pressed onto her forehead too.

She still felt his lips on her skin, long after he’d leaped across rooftops away. Cradling Emma carefully against her, she sneaked into an alley quickly to de-transform.

“You did great Marinette! You took down the akuma and took perfect care of Emma,” Tikki smiled. “Chat Noir’s right! You really are a natural mother.”

Marinette laughed. “Thanks, Tikki. Adrien said that too- oh my god! Adrien!”

Tikki hid a knowing smile before going back inside her purse. Marinette instantly took off, running back to the bridge where she’d last seen Adrien leave with Emma. The poor boy… he probably was frightened to death, thinking he lost Emma and Marinette in the crowd.

Standing in the middle of the bridge, Marinette panted. “Oh Emma,” she chewed her lip. “You don’t think he’ll be too panicked, will he? Adrien?”

“Papa?” Emma only asked in response, blinking widely.

Marinette laughed. “Not Papa silly. You just saw Papa. Do you already miss him?”

Emma pouted, nuzzling her face into Marinette’s neck. “Papa.”

Marinette sighed. “Is this how it is in the future? Do you like Papa more than me?” she grumbled playfully. She didn’t think she’d even mind if little Emma gave all her devotion to Chat.

The two laughed together till Marinette heard her name called. As she turned, she hated the way her heart skipped at the sight. Adrien came rushing down the bridge, two ice creams clutched in his hands and a wide smile on his face. It was a scene she thought she’d recall in every dream from now on.

Ten years Marinette… you have ten years to get over that.

“Sorry! I went to get ice cream, then the akuma happened, then Emma-”

“It’s fine, Adrien!” Marinette forced a laugh. “You’ve been a great help today with Emma anyway!”

Adrien’s smile slipped into something softer. She almost wished she didn’t have to see it.

“Papa!”

“Hey Emma,” Adrien laughed, giving the ice creams to Marinette before taking Emma into her own hands. “You weren’t scared, were you?”

Emma shook her head happily. She nuzzled affectionately into his touch, still calling him Papa. 

“Sorry about her,” Marinette smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Looks like she likes her Papa more and you remind her of him.”

Adrien nodded, biting back a smile. “Well, that’s okay. I think her Maman already has someone who loves her far too much. It isn’t fair for her to get all of Emma’s love too.”

“Hm?”

Marinette blinked. That smile on Adrien… Why did it look both new and familiar at once? And why was he leaning in with a glint of amusement in his eyes, as if this were something ordinary between the two of them? And why, despite every better part of herself, was Marinette’s heart racing from being the focus of those eyes?

“Wouldn’t you agree, future wife?”

The ice creams dropped. Two cones sat planted in the ground and Marinette squeaked. The smugness she’d seen minutes ago on Chat’s face now appeared on… on Adrien’s. He laughed, sharing the joke with Emma in his playful stare. Her first love, the love of her life, and her future daughter… all in one sight.

“Adrien!”

“Uh oh Emma, your Maman is mad at me,” the boy laughed. Marinette chased him down the bridge but when she caught him, it was Adrien who pressed his lips to her forehead this time. 

/

“You took… our daughter into an akuma fight?!”

“Hey! She’s our daughter too. And don’t tell off Marinette,” Adrien pouted, jumping in front of Marinette from the towering Ladybug who had her hands on her hips. Hips he was having a hard time looking away from.

Adrien couldn’t tell Marinette - he wouldn’t dare - but while ten years would make him as Chat Noir just a bit more handsome, ten years would make her deadly.

He had to gulp a heavy breath when she appeared in Marinette’s bedroom, with her own Chat Noir on her tail. At first glance, he almost tripped from Marinette’s sofa. When he shared a look with his future self, his future self only feigned an innocent smile, fully aware of the inner workings of sixteen-year-old Adrien’s mind and how the stunning woman had short-wired it.

“I am allowed to tell myself off, Adrien,” Ladybug sighed. “Move away.”

“No way. It wasn’t her fault anyway!”

Ladybug shared a look with Chat. “Were you always this stubborn?”

Chat grinned. “Only when it comes to you,” he said with a wink and then with a glance at sixteen-year-old Marinette, “and her too, I guess.”

Adrien frowned. “Hey! Flirt with your own Marinette,” he grumbled, shooting daggers at his future self. For as hard as Adrien had worked to disguise his starstruck reaction to the future Ladybug, Marinette had put no effort into the same for the future Chat Noir. Her eyes were glued to him this whole time. Every time he moved or turned and the muscles strained against the suit, Marinette turned a little bit redder.

Adrien wasn’t sure whether to be jealous or flattered.

“Like I can’t see you ogling me,” Ladybug muttered before looking at Marinette. “Anyway. I’ll take Emma back now. While it wasn’t… ideal for you two to fight with her on hand, I know why you did it. Thank you for taking care of her.”

Marinette beamed. “Thank you for letting me have her today. I… I’m gonna work really hard,” she promised, her eyes bright and glittering. “To become a mother and superhero as good as you.”

Ladybug smiled, but before she could respond, the two boys answered in unison, “You’re already good.”

Marinette blinked, looking between Adrien and Chat. “Wow. This is trippy.”

“Tell me about it,” Ladybug sighed, before glancing at Adrien. “Thanks for taking care of her- well, me, Adrien. There’s gonna be a lot of tough times in the future but there’ll be a lot of good too.”

With a look at Marinette, the words came out of Adrien before he could stop them. “I think they’ll all be good.”

Chat sighed, picking up Emma. “I would make fun of you. But I’m exactly the same. Guess we’re even,” he grinned, offering a fist. When Adrien reciprocated, his fingers stung from the sheer force of a simple fist bump.

“Seriously man, what are you eating?”

“Nothing healthy. My wife’s family owns a bakery after all,” Chat said with a wink at Marinette. He turned to open a portal and Adrien squinted from the flash of light.

“Thanks for babysitting kiddos!” Ladybug smiled with a wave. Adrien could hardly wave back before the two of them were gone and the room was left with him and Marinette and their two sleeping kwamis.

And a hundred or so posters of Adrien.

“I really thought you’d be more into me,” Adrien mumbled in the empty room. “But you couldn’t stop gawking at Chat Noir!”

Marinette scoffed. “You weren’t slick about your staring at Ladybug either.”

Adrien rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was just… looking at how your suit would change. Very interesting, you know.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You have less spots in the future. It’s fascinating, right?”

“I guess. Your tail was longer too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

Adrien bit back a smile. “Well thank you for admitting you were checking out my future ass, Marinette.”

Instantly, he dodged the pillow thrown his way by her that he’d anticipated. Her face was flushed and he couldn’t get enough of how adorable it was. He’d have to soak it all up before she became all cool and confident like she was in the future.

With all the laughing and pillows being thrown around, Adrien didn’t hesitate in grabbing Marinette’s waist and pulling her closer to him. The two were wrapped together now on the couch and while the proximity was familiar, the racing heartbeat he felt at being so close to her was new.

“You really have Emma’s eyes,” she muttered, staring at him.

“You have Emma’s hair.”

“You have Emma’s nose,” she answered with a playful flick of it.

Adrien smiled, letting his eyes wander down her face. “You have her…” he trailed off, bashful of even saying the word.

Someday, he’d have a kid with this girl. But for now, he couldn’t even bring himself to get past the initial awkward shyness of two sixteen-year-olds around their first loves.

“What do you think?” Marinette asked hesitantly. “Of our… Our future together?”

Adrien grinned. “I love it.”

“Do you really think I’ll be a good mother one day?” she asked, suddenly leaning in closer. Adrien was sure she could hear the hitch in his heartbeat, pressed against him like this.

His partner, his best friend, his first love, the love of his life… how did he get so lucky? All in a day, he’d found all these people with just a little bit of the future.

Adrien brought his lips to Marinette’s cheek and pressed a kiss at the corner of her lips. “I think you’ll make a great mother,” he kissed the other corner. He leaned back for a second to share a smile before pulling her close enough that no distance remained. “But I think you’ll make an even better wife.”

#miraculous #joonapeach #miraculous ladybug #miraculous marinette #miraculous adrien #mlb #mlb fanfic #miraculous fanfic #adrienette #adrienette fanfic #ladynoir fanfic #ladybug x chat noir #adrien x marinette #miraculous fandom #ml #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #ladybug

[joonapeach]

skylines (nj)

college!au, where namjoon openly chases you and you love running from those advances. that is, until everyone in your architecture department finds out you’re the daughter of the man behind the biggest architecture firm in the country. 

alternatively… namjoon is a simp for you until he’s suddenly not 

author’s note: sometimes i just wanna write for the fun of it and not take life so seriously so this is what i churned out. 8.8k words of some minor pining and mini character development for our oc because tbh, being a student sucks and you get so caught up in your insecurity sometimes

also reposted on ao3

[this is fluff and light-hearted, with a bit of a rivalry trope, 8.8k words]

Keep reading

[joonapeach]

kinda wanna post my mlb fanfiction on this blog... but everyone follows me for bts... but mlb owns half my heart... i might just do it whatever

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous

[joonapeach]

when can we discuss the brilliance that is miraculous ladybug and how the show delivers on fifteen different character dynamics and tropes using only two characters

#mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous adrien #miraculous marinette

[joonapeach]

guys im crying i finished reading yumis cells today ugh what an experience im so jealous of everyone who hasn't read it yet

WEBTOONS THAT CHANGED ME

hi are u stuck at home in isolation and looking for things to binge read? look for no further because i decided to make a list of webtoons i love for no particular reason but that i’m running out of things to do 

(in case you don’t know what webtoons are - they’re online mini comics that you can read by downloading the webtoon app)

i. YUMI’S CELLS

yumi’s cells take us through the life of a 30-something woman, yumi, in a very creative way - through showing all her brain cells at work. the story is light-hearted but so gripping, that you don’t even realize how attached you’ve become to yumi after reading for so long. the style of storytelling is probably the most creative style i’ve ever seen, and the story itself is so entertaining. there’s been so many moments i laughed, cried, shut my phone off in anger… it’s the full deal of emotions with this one. there’s lots of life lessons packed in the story and i really feel like watching yumi go through different relationships + different struggles made me develop my own perspective on life and all that comes with it.

ii. GOURMET HOUND

there’s something special about reading a story where you can feel the love of the creator for their work throughout. gourmet hound is a story that delivers on every aspect of creativity, love, pain, character development and relationships. it’s a story i began reading sometime around mid 2019, a story i’ve lost sleep for, a story my heart has sung for, a story that’s become a part of me and a story i will probably cry saying goodbye to. it’s a story that revolves around lucy, a young women with strong olfactory sense, who is searching for a dish at a restaurant she grew up with. because of this, she ends up encountering all the previous chefs of that restaurant, slowly uncovering why all those chefs fell apart too. each character is paid so much detail and each arc is done beautifully. i’ve always been one for unique settings but reading a story like gourmet hound, all about cooking, was a first and a very unique experience for me. i’ve grown to appreciate the beauty of the work of chefs as well as all the small things that go into it. i’m so lucky this story has got to be a part of my life for around a year, and can only hope everybody else also experiences this webtoon!

iii. DR. FROST

i read this webtoon in a matter of days in early 2018, yet i think of it so often and so vividly, you could think i read it yesterday. dr frost deals with psychology and different cases of patients who deal with all kinds of problems. there is so much detail and interesting facts in each part that with each new case wrapped, i find myself knowing something i didn’t before. dr frost himself is also such an enigma that i loved learning about him as a character, his past and his abilities with solving psychological cases. this is really a must-read; i’ve searched high and low and not been able to find such a brilliant story, embedded with realism.

iv. AGE MATTERS

this story is quite popular on webtoon already but i have to put it on my list. i remember loving this story from its launch, back in 2018 and it’s something i’ve looked forward to every week for the past two years. age matters, although a love story on the surface level, is the story of rose, a 30 year old who (like most women are conditioned to be) is trapped in her mindset that her age is a weakness in a world where only the youth can prosper. this story speaks to me so much - we’re all fearful of reaching an ‘expiry date’. but this story tries to show rose’s journey breaking away from that idea, as she tackles her new life working under a young entrepreneur. i really appreciate the dynamic of the two leads and the focus on the idea of ‘age’, ‘youth’ and ‘success’.

p.s. hope u all are healthy and cautious during this time!! and please feel free to send me recs, your girl is deteriorating from not doing anything everyday

#joonapeach #webtoon recs #naver webtoon

[joonapeach]

don’t hate your body for how it’s changed during 2020, but thank it for supporting you through a difficult time

#reminder #take care of yourself everyone

[joonapeach]

skylines (nj)

college!au, where namjoon openly chases you and you love running from those advances. that is, until everyone in your architecture department finds out you’re the daughter of the man behind the biggest architecture firm in the country. 

alternatively... namjoon is a simp for you until he’s suddenly not 

author’s note: sometimes i just wanna write for the fun of it and not take life so seriously so this is what i churned out. 8.8k words of some minor pining and mini character development for our oc because tbh, being a student sucks and you get so caught up in your insecurity sometimes

also reposted on ao3

[this is fluff and light-hearted, with a bit of a rivalry trope, 8.8k words]

You love skylines.

From when you were six years old with short legs, you remember craning your neck up high to see each building that surrounded you. At that age, the world seemed big and you seemed small but you loved it. You loved seeing the world build and function around you. 

From then on outwards began your decades-long relationship with your first love - buildings. 

Well, you called it buildings and your father called it architecture. You were the daughter of his dreams, his proclaimed legacy. What luck I have, he would say, that I have a daughter who will grow up to work beside me.

Growing up, those comments were your food for the day. You would eat up his encouragements and cheers throughout high school, serving him back your high grades on a gold platter.

This is the way you’ve worked through your past nineteen years. It’s a little basic, maybe, but you’ve operated on your father’s ambition for you. 

But like all good things, even that seemed to come to an end. Since entering university and embarking on your path as an architecture major, the once comforting encouragement has slowly changed to a choking chain around you.

You’ve learnt a lot in two semesters at university. You’ve learnt how to finish assignments the night before, how to memorize historical names and dates minutes before an exam, you’ve learnt how fun it can be to be with your friends.

But most of all, you’ve learnt that… you’re not special. 

You’re surrounded by overachievers, all like you, all perhaps better than you in some way. You’re the daughter of the man behind HN Architects, but some of your classmates look like they’re on their way to the top of the chain.

You always thought you deserved your seat, your privilege, because you’d worked for it. These days, it doesn’t seem much like that. And you worry that your father is thinking the very same thing.

Let’s finish this assignment, you sigh, there’s not much left. Let’s do it, you give yourself a pep talk, fighting back a yawn at the practically empty library before dawn.

Books crash down on your table, right beside you. You shake, being pulled so abruptly out of your reverie. Although maybe you should be thankful, for the sleep that was threatening your productivity seems to have run away from the sound. 

“Excuse me,” you scoff loudly, making your presence known to the disturbance.

From above the tower of books on the desk, peeks out a familiar dimpled smile. His eyes glint with mischief and despite the early hours of the day, his face reads no exhaustion.

“You’re excused.” 

You groan. “There’s an entire empty library, you can only sit here?”

“Studying is more fun with company,” he retorts with a grin.

“It’s studying. It’s not meant to be fun,” you reply, hostile. “Didn’t I tell you to stop showing up in front of me with no purpose?’

He smiles again, confidently with his eyes unmoving from you. It’s almost unnerving, how much you see Namjoon smile in front of you. Architecture students are not meant to be this happy. They aren’t meant to carry a warm smile everywhere they go, looking at people with such attentive intensity.

“I haven’t shown up without a purpose though,” he says. “I came to ask for help with the assignment.” 

This time, you smile. But your smile is one of disbelief and amusement.

“Yes, that’s very believable, Namjoon,” you cock a brow. “You’re the one finishing assignments a week early and screwing up the curve for everyone but I’m sure I could help you with whatever you need.”

He grins, taking a seat next to you. “Hey, sometimes even I need help,” he replies but then pauses. “Ah, you’re right. I should’ve gone with coming to offer you help. That’s a lot more believable.”

“I don’t need your help,” you argue. “Stop showing up in front of me. And stop subtly flexing in front of me. It’s nauseating.”

He throws his head back and laughs. He looks so happy that it almost stirs a scary, fluttering feeling in your stomach. “You should be the last person to feel jealous of me, _____.”

You glare at him. “Yeah, because I’m the one who threatens your ranking?”

He shakes his head. “No, because I would help you with everything if you just asked.”

You still, for a moment. His words lull over in your head and they feel a bit weird. Your major is competitive and cut-throat, even if it doesn’t appear it. To you, Namjoon is your biggest rival, your biggest worry because you can never match up to him.

“Well, I’m not asking you for a thing. Is there really nothing you stress over?”

“No, there is. I just don’t cry over my textbook the nights before exams.”

“That was one time,” you mumble, infuriated. “And I had every right to be crying that night. It was the hardest exam that term and I have big shoes to fill. I can’t afford to be bothering people, like you,” you say with an intentional offense.

He takes none. “Big shoes? Who’s putting expectations on you?”

“Just some family. Stop being nosy,” you say swiftly. “And you didn’t even tell me. What do you stress over?”

He pauses, not giving a response for a moment. You wonder if it’s because there’s really nothing he stresses over. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. While you and your friends have all cracked under the pressure of your degree, you especially with the added burden of your father… Namjoon has not once shown signs of struggle. He walks through life with that smile every day.

“Finding work,” he says after a while.

“Huh?”

He meets your eyes. “You asked me what I worry about. I worry about finding work when I graduate,” he says sincerely.

You bite back a rude laugh. “Please, Namjoon. Get real,” you roll your eyes. “You really think you can worry about that? You were the top of our class all last year.”

You don’t do a good job of hiding your envy, but it’s beyond you to care at this point. You’ve become this person now. The one who seeks everything out of their number on the paper.

“But I don’t have any connections. I come from a village, practically, as you like to call it,” he says with a chuckle. It stings you a little, he’s referring to the time you and your friends had put him down out of jealousy with those words. But he doesn’t say it like it bothers him. He says it like it’s true. 

“So?” you say, looking away from him and back on your sheet. “You don’t always need connections.”

“Not always, but a lot of the time,” he shrugs.

“Any company who takes a look at your record and speaks to you for five minutes would want you, Namjoon,” you exhale, knowing your words are 100% true. You think about your father, about HN Architects. Namjoon’s the kind of guy who your father wouldn’t think twice about hiring. He’s the epitome of someone who could fill any shoes you gave him.

You scoff bitterly. “Wait a second. Why am I comforting you right now? You’re a success story in the making,” you snap and he laughs, even though you didn’t intend it to be a joke. “You should be comforting me, you idiot. I don’t even know if I’ll have Mr. Labadee’s assignment done in time for submission!”

He puts his hands up. “Okay, okay, don’t worry. Why do you think I’m here?” he looks away, still smiling as he takes the pencil from your hand and moves closer to the sheet.

“What?” you say, watching the way his eyebrows furrow and his eyes scan the paper. He’s losing himself in the sheet now, and it feels like watching a prodigy at work. You picture this is what it would feel like to watch Bill Gates code on a computer before he formally started his career or watching The Beatles pen a song before they made it big. 

“Hm?”

“Did you come here for me?” you ask and for a split second, you see his eyes shift. “Did Chae tell you I was here?”

He doesn’t respond, instead focusing on the assignment. “Your calculation is wrong here. Look,” he says, pointing at a section. As he explains your mistake, you smile satisfied. 

He doesn’t need to admit it. You two have gone through this very situation so many times now, that you both know it’s true. Namjoon always comes for you.

/

You have kept your background, your family, extremely private since joining university.

In high school, you made the mistake of letting people know that you were the daughter of HN Architects. It resulted in years of people smooching up to you, gossiping behind your back, mean assumptions, and just a general nightmare.

That nightmare would only multiply if your friends here found out about it. They were all architect majors, all in the same cut-throat degree, and you came from privilege. 

It scared you, knowing what could happen if they ever found out. You begged your family to make sure that nothing would tie you to them here, keeping your name different on the registrar, not publishing photos of you in the paper. You couldn’t risk all the friends and relationships you made. Even if they said things won’t change, you know they would. They always do.

“I need to sleep for 10 years,” you mumble, falling on your bed. 

“Fuck this, I wish I was you right now,” Chae cries from her side of the room. “I’ve got one more submission.”

“I woke up at 4 to finish it so you should be fine,” you laugh, looking at her. “And did you send Namjoon to me?”

Chae fights a smile on her face. You sigh, knowing you’ve opened Pandora's box.

“He came to me asking about you last night. I told him you were sleeping, but you’d be at the library at 5 working on the assignment,” she smirks cheekily. “Why, did he come?” she asks, not hiding the overly inquisitive edge to her question.

You say nothing, deciding to turn on your laptop.

“He did!” she screams and your eyes widen, telling her to be quiet. “Sorry! I just can’t help it. That’s so sweet,” she squeals.

“Stop sending him after me. You’re encouraging him.”

“You’re encouraging him!” she counters. “You let him help you with your assignment, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but-”

“And you showed up at his dorm last week for notes, didn’t you?”

“Okay, but-”

“And you told him off for helping Eun like four days ago, remember?”

“Chae,” you stop her, sternly. “Have you lost your mind? Don’t you realize what all those things have in common?”

“They all are evidence of the fact that you reciprocate his year-long courtship?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. All these things are work-related. I can’t afford to be falling behind, and I need his help.”

“Okay, but you were jealous of Eun-”

“I was annoyed that he was helping other people score higher! The last thing I need right now is the lazy kids of the class becoming my competition too,” you complain, grumbling.

Chae stares you down. “_____, not everything is about your degree,” she says light-heartedly, but you know your statement bothers her. 

Exhaling, you shut your eyes. You hate it when conversations come to this. Sometimes, you wish you could just tell people which family you came from. Maybe it would do them good, to make them realize that yes, for you, everything is about your degree. Everything in your life revolves around being successful in this path. 

You were cynical but at least you were real. You admitted things the way they were, when competition was competition, you said it, and when you needed something, you asked for it. That made it okay, you told yourself.

And when it comes to Namjoon… it’s especially okay. He’s both the only reason you’re hanging on okay in your degree, and the reason you feel insecure. You wonder how it can be that someone like him exists.

“Anyways, are you really gonna leave talking about Joon there?” Chae scoffs. “He’s liked you since we started. You really won’t do anything about it?”

“Namjoon is nothing but another classmate that stresses me out, Chae. I don’t see him that way. I just like his work ethic.”

Chae laughs. “You’re so skewed, honestly. Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Why, are you planning on ratting me out to him again?”

“No, silly,” she laughs, although you both know it’s likely she’d do it again. “Let’s go to the Autumn fair tomorrow. After I submit.”

“The fair? You mean those three stalls they set up and call it an event?”

She frowns. “Don’t be mean. Hobi and the others have really been working hard on it this year. It’ll be nicer than the last, I promise.”

“As long as there are at least 10 booths this year.”

“You’re too mean for your own good, _____,” she says, tsk-ing. “One day, you’ll see what it’s like to be on the other end.”

/

Your overactive imagination always paints a skyline for you, where there’s an empty space. You can always picture different styles of buildings, standing together, making a city. 

It’s at times like those you realize that even if you wanted to give up, even if you tried to pursue something else, your heart will always come back to this. There is nothing more that belonged to you than this.

Even if it’d become difficult now, it didn’t matter. It became a source of worry more than an outlet of passion, but it’s still your calling. You can’t give up on something you love this much.

“Your toffee apple is dripping,” you hear his voice before you see him.

You want to turn and snap at him but the sticky toffee syrup that falls onto your fingers stops you.

“Ugh,” you groan, trying to fix it. Namjoon’s hand comes out with a tissue, quickly wiping your fingers without a word. Even after he’s done, the sticky feeling remains. “I should just throw this away.”

He laughs. “Let’s get candy corn.”

“No, thanks, I have to go find Chae and Yuna.”

Even though you step away, you hear his footsteps almost immediately behind you. 

“What’s the rush?” he says, catching up beside you. When you two walk together like this, his tall figure towers over in a way that makes you feel small. “Shouldn’t you offer to buy me candy corn? Did you forget how I helped you at 5 in the morning two days ago for Professor Labadee’s class?”

“You chose to wake up at that time, not me,” you say, keeping your eyes trained ahead. You weren’t expecting much from this fair, but the students had done well. Bright fairy lights decorate the lamp posts around you and along the long path, dozens of stalls are set up. It all feels a little bit like a movie.

“As long as you got it done,” he says under his breath. You dare to take a glimpse of him and inhale sharply. He’s wearing his smile, he always is, but the fairy lights reflect on his face, illuminating him like an angel. Everything about him feels good.

You look away almost immediately. “Stop following me Namjoon,” you say, stopping at a trinkets stall and smiling at the girl behind the table.

“But I like seeing you outside of architecture things,” he grins confidently.

You opt to ignore him, asking the price of something that catches your eye.

He cranes his neck to see what it is. “Want me to get it for you?”

You quickly counter. “Absolutely not,” you say, handing over your money notes. 

“You’re really buying an ornament of buildings?” he cocks a brow. “Don’t you want something like this instead?” he picks up a small snow globe, shaking it so the snow moves. The globe is miniscule to begin with, but you notice how in his hands, it looks almost tiny.

“What can I say? I like buildings.”

He smiles. “More than people, maybe.”

You sigh, ignoring his statement. Once you get the paper bag with your purchase inside, you keep walking ahead. You count to three before you hear his footsteps mimic yours.

“I’ll buy you candy corn, then you leave me alone,” you turn to say to him. “It’s not good that you’re always showing up where I am.”

He nods like an obedient puppy. Then he frowns and asks, “why is it not good?”

When you don’t respond, focusing on walking to the candy booth, he adds, “is it not good for you? Getting attached to me now?”

You don’t have to see his face to know he’s doing his goofy smile again. “It’s not good for you to keep going through these many rejections in a lifetime.”

He laughs, your words not bothering him the slightest. Standing in front of the candy booth, Jungkook and Jae, two of your architect classmates greet you.

“Hey Joon! Aw, you two hanging out again?” Jae smiles widely as if he’s in some big secret. You roll your eyes, not saying a word but pointing to the candy corn.

“_____ is treating me to candy corn. Isn’t she sweet?”

“I’m not treating you out of kindness, I’m doing it so you feel compensated for your efforts with my assignment.” 

Jungkook and Jae share an amused look that you almost miss. Shuffling through your pocket, you start counting the money to give. As you hand over the money to Jae, Jungkook places a brown paper bag in Namjoon’s hands.

“You two enjoy yourselves,” Jungkook beams brightly.

You scoff. “Is there really such a thing as enjoyment when I have him on my tail?” 

Without bidding them a proper goodbye, you walk away from the stall, leaving the three standing. Like clockwork, Namjoon is beside you again.

“Here,” he says, and suddenly the bag of candy corn is in your hands.

You raise a brow. “What are you giving this to me for? You were the one who wanted it.”

“You were eating a sad, overpriced toffee apple. This should be for you too.”

“Namjoon.” You give him a look, but he pays no mind. 

Without saying anything more, you two walk together in silence. It didn’t intend to be this way, but it feels nice now. You feel good that you were dragged out of a cycle of the bedroom to the classroom to the library for once.

Of course, it’s weird that amidst all this, Namjoon is the one beside you. Usually, when you see him, your mind wanders to the place that curses him for being everything you wish you were. But tonight, you’re laying off those thoughts.

Staring at the crowd around the speakers, you two pause for a bit. You see Chae and Yuna, along with your other coursemates all together.

Still beside you, Namjoon speaks out of the blue. “Why don’t you call me Joon?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t realize I was required to,” you shrug at the random question. “I don’t know you like that.”

“Everyone in our class calls me Joon. Even your group member who I met that one time is calling me Joon,” he argues. “You know me better than all those people. If anything, you should be the only one.”

“What are you on about? I don’t know you at all,” you throw a blank look his way. “And don’t argue that we spend a lot of time together. You follow me around and show up where I am. That’s not spending time together.”

“We’re spending time together right now, aren’t we?” 

“It’s a first. Don’t get used to it.”

He laughs as if your cold remarks are something affectionate. “I don’t think I really could get used to seeing you outside the library, _____. You’re there more than me and I’m always studying too.”  

You scoff cynically. “Are you flexing your rank again on me?”

“_____, if I cared so much about my rank, I wouldn’t be helping you with work all the time,” he laughs, amused.

“I don’t know. Maybe helping me is all part of your plan to keep beating me,” you say. “Isn’t this just a power move? You always showing up to help me.”

He laughs again before his stare stills on you. His eyes are bright and sparkling… or is it just the effect of the stupid fairy lights? You can hardly tell.

Despite yourself, it all makes your stomach drop. You hate it when Namjoon shows up unannounced in your life, but more than that, you hate it when he gives you this kind of look. Like he can’t look anywhere else but at you.

“More than a power move, it’s just a gesture for you.”

The fluttering feeling worsens and you blink. You choose to say nothing, instead staring ahead at the view. “That is the ugliest building I’ve ever seen.”

For a second, he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Eventually, he humors you. “It’s not all that bad.”

“In my professional opinion as a future architect, that is the exact type of building I would want to bulldoze.”

“Well, in my professional opinion as another future architect, I’d say your standards are far too high.”

“I’m allowed to keep my standards high. It’s me,” you smile with a glint in your eye.

He laughs, staring at you softly. “That I can agree with.”

You taunt him playfully. “You’re so predictable. Does it not get tiring hanging off my every word?”

He shakes his head loyally. “Absolutely not. I think everything you say is valuable and worth hanging off.”

“How lame,” you joke although you two share a smile. It’s true, he is a little predictable. But it’s Namjoon’s predictability that at times, catches you off guard. It’s fun, knowing that he’s two steps behind you wherever you are.

A warm feeling stirs in your body and you wonder if it’s the autumn air. Glancing up at Namjoon, the same air ruffles his hair endearingly and you tear yourself away from staring at it.

“I’m only gonna say it once so if there’s any word of mine you wanna hang off, it’s this,” you say before shoving the bag of candy corn back into his hands. “Power move or not, thanks for helping me. I really need it sometimes and I appreciate it.”

The grin on his face widens. “One more time, I didn’t hang off it enough!”

“I told you, only one time.”

“But the music was so loud, I couldn’t hear you well.”

“Too bad.”

“Come on, _____, take pity on me.”

“Shut up and eat your candy corn.”

/

You find yourself quickly back in your routine after the Autumn fair, working on new assignments and projects till your worst nightmare comes to life unexpectedly.

“Please be on time, _____!” Chae repeats to you for the fifth time that morning.

“Chae, I’ll be there. I’ll literally run from the design building to the auditorium, okay?”

She clicks her tongue at you. “Stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by showing up. You should be excited.”

“I am. But… I mean, do we really need this kind of random assembly for our architecture department?” you groan, slipping your laptop into its case. “Can’t they just give us the extra time to work on our homework?”

“But there’ll be companies there!” she retorts, wide-eyed and excited. “Just imagine. This is like those movies, where they come and scout students and then bam, life is sorted.”

You nod, forcing a smile. You remember your privilege, knowing your worry has never once been finding work but living up to the work that was set out for you. But you could never explain that here. How could you cry about the burden that kept you so troubled when it was a burden any one of your friends would happily want?

“Okay. I’ll see you there,” you settle for a wave, walking out to leave. You rush with your bag on your back to your classroom, immersed in your lesson till the hour finishes up.

For the moments after class finishes, your mind is blank. You’re going over your homework in your head, packing your things and your eyes widen. The meeting. You almost forgot.

True to your words, you actually do end up running from the design building to the auditorium. Sprinting from your class to the auditorium proves to be a harder workout than you anticipated and your heart can’t stop racing.

Stepping inside the auditorium, you jump into the first empty seat you see at the entrance.

“Where is she?” you mumble under your breath. Your eyes shift around the room, looking for a familiar head of short black hair. Catching sight of Chae, you wave to her but she doesn’t notice you at all. Instead, she’s busy talking to a group of students all from your year.

Everyone’s sat together, cozy and comfortable in a conversation together. You can even see Namjoon in the row above Chae, chatting energetically. Your heart strangely pangs.

Sometimes, seeing everyone like this, everyone from your major and year together, made you feel more like an outsider than anything. At first, you’d chalked it up to be because of your obsession with studying and academics… but students better than you, students like Namjoon and Mina, all seemed to be doing fine. 

In the end, you realized it isn’t anything to do with that. You feel like an outsider because you are one. You’ve tried your hardest to blend in, but the fact remains that you feel alone in the problems you have. You’ve kept your identity as the daughter of HN Architects a secret, you’ve kept your family pressures a secret… Now you’re alone in the burden of your struggles.

Sometimes, you’ve thought about opening up. But the thought terrifies you even more.

If you felt so alone while keeping the truth of your ambitions a secret… there’d be no telling what kind of way your friends would treat you after finding out.

“We’re lucky enough to have… here’s a representative from Canvas Corp… looking for fresh talent… Yongchan Architecture…” you’re hardly paying attention to the speakers on stage till you finally hear, “and most fortunately, the chairman of HN Architects!”

Your head shoots up so fast that it almost flies off. No fucking way.

Your father is smiling on the stage, wearing a crisp suit and greeting the architecture department heads. Without realizing it, your body cowers back into your seat as you see his eyes scan the auditorium. He must be looking for you - his daughter.

His daughter that not a single soul in this room knew was you.

Your heart goes into panic mode before you try to calm yourself down. Relax, you mutter repeatedly to yourself although it’s less effective than you thought it’d be.

Your eyes dance between your father on stage and your group of friends with Chae sitting seats away from you. Neither of them have noticed you.

Instead, your classmates are all watching your father with starstruck eyes. They’re staring at your father like he’s their idol.

Well, objectively, maybe he could be. After all, you admire your father for the very same reason every architecture student does - your father is a legend. His company has one of the best reputations in the country, which feeds your pride, and he’s nothing short of a hard-working, inspiring man.

Namjoon, in particular, is staring at your father like he can’t believe his eyes. It’s a look you’ve never seen from him before. Like he’s both nervous and thinks he’s in a dream. It’s almost endearing.

“To celebrate having the chairman of HN Architects with us today, we’ll have him say a few words!” Mr. Lim, the head of the architecture department, announces enthusiastically into the mic. He turns to your father, “do you mind?”

“Not at all!” your father grins, taking the mic before starting. “It’s my pleasure to be here today! In fact, seeing all of you reminds me of my own days as an architecture student…”

He trails off into a long speech, excitedly. You’ve been witness to every single one of your father’s inspirational speeches since the day you were born so you fight back a yawn. On the contrary, your classmates look like they’re hanging onto every single word.

As your father paces across the stage, he inches towards your side. You blink in panic, bending down but before you know it, it’s too late. His eyes sparkle with joy.

You almost worry he’s gonna wave at you mid-speech. But he doesn’t, simply shooting an overly friendly smile your way. You sneak a glance at your classmates and they’re all giving you a strange look - one that most definitely reads what the heck is he smiling at you for?

Meeting Chae’s eyes in particular, you give an awkward smile and shrug. Soon enough, your father turns to the side and you finally think you can breathe.

“That’s why I’d like to encourage you all to live up to your potential! The world is changing around you as you know it and as future architects, you can be a part of that,” your father enthusiastically continues. His eyes are on you again. “And this is what I tell my beautiful daughter everyday! She loves skylines, my dear _____, and she’s going to be a wonderful architect too!”

My life is officially over.

A little dramatic but that exact thought crosses your mind as you duck into your seat. You think you hear the collective gasp around the auditorium or maybe your ears are playing tricks on you.

No, it’s probably as bad you think it is. Your father’s called you out by name and exposed your identity that you worked so hard to conceal. Your life is quite literally over.

Oblivious to your misery, your father grins happily on stage. He returns the mic to Mr. Lim before stepping to the side. The rest of the assembly goes by without you realizing. You’re still numb to the fact of what just happened.

You risk a glance at your classmates, and in cliche movie fashion, they’re all staring at you with mouths gaping wide open. Every single one of them.

Your neck heats up and you quickly turn around. But curiosity gets the best of you a few minutes later, and you risk looking again.

They’re still staring at you in shock. Like they can’t believe their eyes.

Chae especially is looking at you with hurt flashing across her face. It squeezes at your heart and you feel overcome with guilt for lying to your friend for a year. You don’t dare to imagine what she’s thinking now.

Without realizing, your eyes travel over to Namjoon. Much to your surprise, he’s not looking at you. He’s the only one with his eyes looking ahead blankly, deep in thought.

You frown, evading everyone’s stares to focus on him. An unrecognizable emotion is written all over his face… is it realization? Regret? Embarrassment?

You can hardly tell. But for the first time, an uncomfortable feeling plunges in your stomach at the fact that Namjoon’s not looking at you.

/

“Dad!” you cry. “How could you do that?”

Your father smiles happily at the sight of you, the two of you standing outside the auditorium in a secluded, private spot. The torture, that was the assembly, has finally come to an end.

“What do you mean?” he answers in confusion. “Do you mean showing up here? Because I was invited by that Mr. Lim fellow, he-”

“Not that!” you whine, groaning into your palms. “I’m talking about saying I’m your daughter in front of the whole architecture department!”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, that? What did I do wrong?”

Your jaw drops. “Dad, are you being serious?”

He nods, clear puzzlement on his face.

“Don’t you remember? I specifically asked for you and Mom to make sure that it never gets out!” you say. “Now, you’ve told everyone I go to college with that I’m the daughter of the man behind HN Architects!”

He blinks for a few seconds. “Is that so wrong?” he almost pouts like a child. “I didn’t know it was such a problem.”

“Of course, it is! Why do you think I asked you not to tell anyone?”

“...I thought you were being modest.”

“Modest?!” you exclaim, before sighing. There’s no use berating your father. It’s no one’s fault but your own for not preparing better for this situation.

“Did you really not want anyone to find out?”

You nod weakly.

“Why not?”

“I… I can’t explain it. They’ll freak out,” you look down. You can’t imagine how much worse your stress is gonna get from now on - it isn’t enough that your own title of the daughter of HN Architects is choking you to death… now you’ll have to deal with every single one of your classmates doing the same thing.

Things will never be the same again. For every grade you get, it’ll be discussed as the grade of the HN Architects’ daughter. For every drawing or idea you’ll submit, it’ll be scrutinized as the work of a girl from privilege. The pressure would multiply infinitely. 

“Oh dear, don’t be silly,” your father suddenly says, resting his hand on your head. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize it was so serious to you. But even if they know, it’s not an issue. You’re an excellent student and it’s only right they pay you the respect as the future CEO of HN Architects.”

You shoot your father a smile but your stomach drops. “I guess so, thanks,” you mumble, unable to explain to him that it’s exactly what he said that terrifies you. 

For the rest of the day, you hide out off-campus in hopes to avoid facing reality.

/

“_____, I think you need to pay for the emotional shock you gave us,” Hobi laughs at the lunch table as soon as you arrive.

Hesitantly, you sit beside Chae who doesn’t share a word with you. Since yesterday, you haven’t even made eye contact with her, despite being her roommate. 

“I think I almost spat out my water when I heard my daughter,” Mina jokes and the table echoes in laughter. You smile awkwardly.

“Yeah… it’s not really a big deal,” you shrug.

“Not a big deal?! Hello! We’re talking to the next HN Architects CEO right now!” another student pipes up.

“_____, forgive me for all I did wrong last semester,” Yuri playfully adds.

“I think we need to be cleaning the floor for her to walk on!”

These statements all fly around the table, exchanged with laughs and smiles. Part of you cowers in the attention, uncomfortable by such blatant recognition of your upbringing.

Another part of you wonders… will things be okay?

You take a careful look around the table of your classmates. Not a single one seems to wear a glare, all sharing in jokes and smiles. For the strangest reason… you feel at ease.

Chae suddenly stands up, with her tray. “I’m done eating. I’ll see you guys later.”

Instantly, you mimic her and chase behind her retreating figure. “Wait Chae-”

“I have class right now-”

Like a child, you jump in front of her to block her path. “Okay, please just hear me out,” you say, pouting. “I’m sorry.”

She sighs. “What are you sorry for? It’s not a big deal.”

“You must feel… annoyed, right?”

Chae blinks at you. “I’ll admit, I was irritated at first. You come from such privilege and I’ve unloaded so much crap on you sometimes about being scared about post-college life while you never had that… but, I’m not really mad about that. You can’t help who you are, right?”

You nod. “You’re still mad at me though, aren’t you? For hiding it?”

She takes a second before replying, “I just… you’re so unreachable sometimes, _____. After I found out, I kind of realized why you’re so stressed all the time and what you meant whenever you alluded to things about your pressures and all… I’m just annoyed you never shared that part of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

For the first time since yesterday, Chae cracks a smile. “Don’t be sorry. I just want you to be more open with me. You don’t need to feel like you need to hide your background… I would’ve tried to understand either way.”

Her words soothe you more than you can explain. Since entering your major, you haven’t once relied on the people around you for support that wasn’t academic. Now, you’re realizing your fatal flaw.

“I’ll try to be better,” you say with a nod. “Thank you for not being mad at me.”

She laughs. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry about me,” she says with a glance elsewhere. “You should check up on him. He’s been spooked since yesterday.”

You turn on your heel to see Namjoon, walking around with the same strange expression on his face from the assembly. For a brief second, your eyes meet but the second flashes, and he quickly looks away.

“Did you see that?!” you scoff. “He just ignored me!”

Chae smiles. “Wow, there really is a first for everything.”

“What’s with him?” you say, watching his awkward walk in your opposite direction. He keeps glancing in your direction, but once he sees you staring at him, he swiftly looks away. It’s a completely new side to him. 

“I don’t know,” Chae shrugs. “He’s being weird. I thought he’d be running after you like always, but he’s resorted to this.”

You scoff again, unfamiliar with this Namjoon who runs away from you, rather than to you. You wonder what’s running through his mind, before pushing the thought away. He’s bound to come after you again after a few days.

/

The confidence with which you assumed Namjoon would be all over you again is faltering.

It’s been a full week since the assembly, and while life has seemingly gone back to normal for you (as normal as things can be)... Namjoon certainly has not.

In classes, he picks the furthest seat away on purpose. You even started to tease him by trying to sit in his front row with him, but instead, you found him in the back row - where he can’t even see. 

His lunches seem to be perfectly timed to not clash with yours. All of a sudden, he’s no longer in the library either. All the places you’d easily find Namjoon hovering over you, he’s disappeared from.

“Does he think this is effective?!” you rant to Chae in your dorm room. “That by suddenly ignoring me, I’ll become obsessed with him?!”

Chae smiles at you knowingly. “I don’t know… if that was his plan to begin with, I’d say it’s pretty effective-”

“Shut up, Chae! I’m just saying this is all so stupid!” you scoff. “Once or twice is fine but he’s actively avoiding me! He saw me in the library yesterday and acted like he forgot a book to leave! We were in the library for god’s sake! What book did he forget that he couldn’t find there?!”

Chae giggles like the situation is laugh-worthy. “Maybe he’s just busy.”

“He made time during final exams last year to bother me. How much busier could he be than he was then?”

“Or maybe he doesn’t want to distract you.”

“It’s not that for sure. Whenever I’d tell him that he’s distracting me before, he wouldn’t care,” you mumble under your breath annoyedly. Chae continues to grin at your behavior, as if your reaction were amusing.

You don’t say it to her but you know very well why you’re annoyed beyond relief. It’s because you know it’s to do with finding out about HN Architects.

You groan. You expected your classmates to be weird around you, maybe even your professors… but Namjoon was the last person you thought would suddenly make a 180 after learning about your family.

That’s why it’s aggravating. Because it’s the one thing you didn’t think he’d care about.

A part of you fears he’s realized just how pathetic you are. After all, Namjoon probably knows how much more promising he is compared to you and now… he had to sit with the fact that you were the daughter of HN Architects.

“Why don’t you just approach him yourself?”

You’re momentarily stunned by Chae’s suggestion. You shoot her a dirty glare.

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna chase after Namjoon! He should approach me himself!”

Chae looks at you like you’re crazy. “You’re the one who wants him to talk to you!”

“Exactly! He should come to me like he always does.”

A laugh escapes Chae’s lips. “Oh, _____… you don’t even realize it, do you?”

You cock a brow before shaking your head. “I don’t have time for your indirect dialogue. I’m just saying that if Namjoon doesn’t come to me and talk this out soon, I’m gonna have to do something very crazy.”

Chae’s eyes flicker with amusement. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You grimace, as if even saying it brings you humiliation. “I’m gonna go talk to him first.”

Chae bursts out laughing, despite your solemn expression. You brush her off, spending the rest of the night on your design homework but secretly planning on wringing Namjoon’s throat if he doesn’t go back to normal soon.

/

By now, you’re sure Namjoon can feel the daggers you’re shooting into his back.

He’s even risked turning back a few times, to see who’s glaring at him. But as soon as your eyes meet, his head spins around as if it were all in your head. He focuses on the professor teaching ahead of him, taking notes diligently.

Beside you, Chae says with a nudge, “so are you gonna do that very crazy thing you were planning?”

You ignore her for the sake of gritting your teeth. Usually, you have no trouble focusing in classes. It’s all because of this wretched situation that you’re so off-game.

As soon as the professor wraps up his powerpoint, you’re faster than anyone else in the class at packing up your things and zooming out the door. You don’t even bid Chae goodbye.

You tap your foot impatiently, staring directly at your target. 

Namjoon… try and ignore me now.

Hooking his bag over his shoulder, Namjoon comes to the door of the classroom before stopping his tracks. Aha, you smile pleased.

“Ah, I just forgot… to talk about my assignment with Mr. Choi,” he mutters out loud to no one in particular. The acting is so terrible that you don’t even have to think about it to know he’s intending it for you to hear.

You march up to him. “No, you don’t,” you scoff and when he looks up at the ceiling, you jump like an infant calling for attention. “Namjoon, if you value your life, you’re gonna drop this act right now,” you say in a menacing voice. 

Immediately, he gulps and looks down at you. His height towers over yours but you smile, knowing you’ve gained the upper hand here. He’s looking at you just as he did before - completely enamoured.

You say nothing but give a deadly gesture to follow you. He obeys without complaint.

When you two are finally in a spot you deem private enough, you raise your chin and look at him happily. Under your gaze, he looks down uncomfortably.

“So you want me to say it or will you explain what the hell is going on?”

He blinks. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, _____.”

Your blood boils. Now, he wants to feign ignorance. “You’re joking,” you deadpan.

He looks at you innocently and shakes his head. You sigh, blinking in confusion.

This whole situation is a first. True to your words, you’ve never actually… had to do anything more than bat an eye to know Namjoon would come to you. You don’t know the words to even ask what’s wrong.

“_____,” he says in a low voice. You glance up at him, completely losing your train of thought. The sight of him has never registered you disorientated before. But now, you can’t help but trace your eyes over his dimples and sparkling eyes.

You scoff at yourself. You must’ve lost your mind temporarily. “You know what I’m talking about!”

He shakes his head so you continue, “you used to always come to the library at my timings and sit on my lunch table.”

“Oh,” he nods. “That’s because I wanted to sleep in more so I changed my schedule around a bit.”

You blink at his explanation. “You sat at the back of the class when I came to the front row-”

“I just wanted to see what it’s like to sit there. Turns out, it sucks,” he pauses when you don’t reply. “_____?”

You frown, part confused and part innocently. “I just mean… why aren’t you following me anymore?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can help it and your eyes widen in humiliation. That isn’t the way you wanted to ask the question.

Namjoon, instead, is amused. He smirks ever so slightly, before cocking his brow and asking, “Are you asking me why I don’t chase you around anymore?”

His newfound confidence almost makes you lose your footing. This is Namjoon - the nerdy guy who’d come to you. He can’t have this effect on you.

You scoff, faking an assured smile. “Are you denying that you chased me around?”

He blinks. “I mean-”

“Surely, you accept the fact that you did chase me around for a whole year,” you say with a smile playing on your lips. Of course, between the two of you, you both know very well of Namjoon’s infatuation with you. He’s danced around those feelings for both of your comedy’s sake… but this time, you won’t let that slide.

He looks at you, tongue poking in his cheek. “Fine. I do chase you around.”

You almost smile with victory but you stop yourself. Before you can speak, he continues.

“But I won’t anymore. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me,” he says sincerely, seemingly ready on his toes to walk away. Your fingers wrap around his wrist without realizing.

“Wait!” you frown displeased. He’s glancing down at where your touch meets his hand and you instantly let go. “This makes no sense.”

He blinks, confused. “What do you… isn’t this what you’ve wanted?”

“You can’t just change your mind like that!” you argue, a strange desperation cutting into your voice. “You can’t make people get used to you and do that!”

Much to your surprise, he wears a small smile. “I didn’t think it’d bother you so much.”

“I can’t stand you,” you groan. “You chase me around, then you find out one tiny fact about my family and now, you think you’re so much better than me to come after me!” you yell, your heart hammering against your chest. You sound like a child, you know as much but… suddenly around him, all logic’s been thrown out your brain.

“_____,” he says in a breath, a glint in his eye that reads surprise and amusement. His dimples are poking out and you wonder what it’d be like to affectionately poke into one. “Do you… did you like when I would come to you?”

There’s no self-preserving answer to this, one that can save both your dignity and pride. You know what you should say to his question, but nerves are prickling under your skin.

It isn’t the nerves you feel before submitting a drawing or entering an exam, but a whole new uncharted territory of nerves. Everything about this conversation is uncharted territory.

“_____, do you…” he starts a question, before nervously brushing the nape of his neck. He looks shy to even ask but after a moment, he looks at you like a child with candy and says, “do you like me?”

Your heart’s in your stomach. Immediately, you laugh, “no! No! Why would I?! Are you crazy?! Why would I ever like-”

“I don’t know,” he blinks innocently, but the stare he holds on you seems suddenly intimate. “That’s what I’m thinking. Why would you ever care about why I stopped chasing after you, if you don’t like me?”

His cocky grin annoys you. You shoot him a deathly look. “Don’t get too confident with me, Joon,” you say although you’re fumbling with words. “I still remember when you couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

He takes a step closer, holding your stare with no qualms. Your heart speeds up again, like you’ve been running.

“_____,” he says softly with a victorious smile. “You like me, don’t you?”

“I’m not answering your stupid question. First, you explain to me why the hell you think you can treat me the way you have the last week-”

“Because I thought you didn’t like me back,” he answers smoothly. “You’re the daughter of HN Architects and I’ve been wasting your time all year long. I’ve always felt intimidated by you… but now, I realized I really wasn’t worth your time.”

You blink with a frown. “Namjoon-”

“I feel really embarrassed, _____… If I ever wanted to work at HN Architects, I wouldn’t even be able to show my face knowing the way I’ve bothered you-”

“You’ve never bothered me.”

“Huh?”

Your cheeks flush and you suddenly become very aware of the words that escaped your lips. You cast a hesitant glance at Namjoon and you can’t help it. Suddenly, everything feels a lot clearer.

“You know, you’re the kind of architect my father dreams about,” you find yourself saying. “You’re the kind of student someone like me should be. It all comes natural to you. I love buildings but everything I do, it’s just part of who you are… that’s why I acted like you bothered me.”

He’s at a loss for words before muttering, “_____…”

“All I ever think about is trying to fit the ideal I know I have to be and it all comes easy for you. You feel embarrassed in front of me…” you laugh with a scoff. “How do you think I feel, needing your help?”

“I never wanted to compete with you,” he says. “I just wanted to be by your side. I really wasn’t helping you for anything apart from looking for an excuse to be near you.”

There it is… the fluttering feeling.

The truth is, you’ve known all this time too. You’ve known that there was never any ulterior motive, just your cynical mind trying to conjure excuses.

You almost hate yourself at this moment. Your insecurity over your work has warped your thoughts so much that you convinced yourself that… that you feel nothing but annoyance for Namjoon.

“_____,” he starts. His hand hesitantly reaches up, stopping multiple times on its way before finally brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“I think it goes without saying but in my eyes, you’re the smartest person in our major and every time I’m with you, I don’t even care if you reject me or look for an excuse to go away,” he says. “You don’t even realize the way I see you.”

Your eyes sting and you’re not sure if it’s because his words move you or you’ve just forgotten to blink for a long while. “You’re so corny.”

He laughs. “Well, someone needs to tell you you’re doing a good job because I can tell you’re not telling yourself,” he says before sheepishly adding, “and I thought we were exchanging what we like about each other.”

“Who said I like you?”

He grins, ruffling your hair despite the scowl you give him. You say nothing but then give a smile. You didn’t expect today to feel so good… but somehow, that insecurity that plagues your mind at all hours of the day disappears for a while. 

All you can think about is wanting this feeling to last with him. Without warning, you reach to grab Namjoon’s wrist to walk out into the open garden of the campus. In front of your sight, there’s a skyline of buildings decorating the city.

“Do you still stand by your statement that that building is the ugliest?”

You grin. “It’s literally hideous, Joon. I can’t believe you’re the top of our class but think those colors look nice together.”

He gives a warm laugh, unable to disguise his happiness at the way you call him endearingly. Your eyes go back and forth between the skyline and Namjoon beside you before deciding that while buildings are your first true love… there’s something even more beautiful about the boy next to you.

hehe so excited to write on this blog if u read till the end jus know u have all my love

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